#sometimes i just think about how much i love them and i have to put it on a page

[lunebulous]

Playing with your body in non-sexual ways

A.N: This is my first time writing fanfiction. Any feedback is very much appreciated. I hope you enjoy! I have no idea what tags to put here so, just trust me bro. cw: thigh worshipping (zayne), plus-size reader (rafayel).

Xavier

There wouldn’t be a lot of occasions where his caresses would be in a non sexual way - that's why he's known to be a wolf in sheep's clothing. But don't get me wrong, being sexual does not equal condescending or rough. Not for him. - well, sometimes. - It's just that if he focuses too long on your face when you’re sleeping soundly, or when you're admiring the lantern lights at another festival, he gets this sensation that he should own you once more, just to be sure you're his. 

So when he kisses, it's only to leave you wanting more of him.  So when he caresses your body, it's only to let himself know he's the one making your skin get goosebumps.  So when he embraces all of you in a tight hug, it’s only to feel like you’re finally real this time.  And when all of these inevitably turn into that feeling of ownership again, he frowns internally. Initially, he wishes that he was different and that he wouldn’t feel like this everytime he stops to think about you; But it's just so much love that it overflows from his heart, dripping right into the lowest part of his torso. When he realizes, he’s slowly kissing you against the wall again. He can’t help it, he's naturally drawn to you like a magnet. And that feeling gives place to a necessity, a craving that hurts so deliciously he gives up on being different. So when you gasp for air and tug at his hair to breathe a little, he just can’t understand why. Or how can you do this to him. He wants more. And more. And more. He needs it so bad he can’t help but pin your hands to the wall so he can kiss you longer, raveling in the way you squirm under him. After all, just because he can't help it, doesn't mean he's not enjoying every second of the fruits of his own possessiveness.

So he caresses you all the time - the problem is that it often turns into a primal need to own and to explore each cute face - each little sound - you make for him. He feels like a victim to his own desires. Poooor Xavier… (irony included).

Rafayel

Rafayel is completely enamoured by your hands, making sure to always kiss them whenever he gets the chance. When he doesn’t, he’s more than expected to caress them while you wait for food in a nice restaurant, or when you’re walking on the shore with him. He is the king of intertwining your hands all the time - never letting go even if for brief moments. He says his bodyguard should be aware of where he is at all times, and when you replied that having one of your hands busy would actually get in the way if danger arrives, he puffed his chest, saying something along the lines of “i’m lucky I have the best bodyguard that can fight 10 men with only one hand then!”. You sighed, giggling because of him. “You’re not actually expecting me to fight with 10 men without letting go of your hand, right?” “Well, I'm pretty sure that was on your job description when I hired you.”  “No it wasn’t.” “Now it is.”  --- He also kisses and grabs your stomach and love handles all the time, especially when lying down, like now. There were some times when it made you feel a little bit insecure, but he always buried his face on it with a big smile, hugging your waist. When you voiced your insecurity to him for the first time, he simply said: “Well, I never saw a painting of any muse that didn’t have enough body for me to drown in it. - he stares up at you intently, before looking at your stomach again. - In fact, it is the only scenario where drowning would be possible for me. - Now he’s getting a hold of your love handles. - And actually, i'd love it. Thank you, my muse!” Right before nuzzling his face on your belly again, giggling. You blush furiously, caressing his purple locks, but he’s too busy to see it.

Zayne

Zayne would always need a bit of a push to touch you like he wants to - and you know that. He’s slowly coming out of his shell and being more confident when it comes to being intimate with you, getting over his irrational fear of hurting you again. The ‘push’ he got today was seeing you come home after brunch with your friends, wearing a dark and muted red lipstick, blended on your lips so perfectly it reminded him of a vintage doll. He made a note to himself to compliment you later when you had your attention on him - because you were busy taking off your shoes, your coat and yapping about some BIG gossip you just found out. He listens attentively, putting two and two together with you as you happily stride towards him. 

You sit beside him on the couch and hug his arm, leaning on his shoulder. He places his hand between your thighs, trying not to pay too much attention to it - a task quite hard for him, as you were wearing light brown stockings that made your oh-so-loved thighs look even more bite-deserving; But he tries to shake the thought away. 

It doesn’t take long before you’re well-invested in the documentary he is watching, but the position is getting quite uncomfortable now, so you crawl between his legs and rest your back against his chest, both of you laying down on the chaise part of the couch. First he stares at you, finding adorable how you don’t hesitate before making yourself comfortable with him. He lays a chaste kiss on the crown of your head, making you snuggle against him even more, getting it just right like two puzzle pieces. And he swears to himself he’s a good man. He is not going to turn this into something more just because your ass grinded against him innocently, no, no. Breathe, you touch-starved man! 

But the same man now is fighting for his life to NOT look at your thighs, the stockings making them look so shiny for him, he couldn't help himself but imagine the shadows his fingers pressing onto your skin would look like. He imagined you in not-so-innocent lightings more than he’d ever admit, and as his thoughts stray away, he doesn’t notice how he’s been caressing your chest and collarbones for some time now, lightly using his fingertips to circle around your skin, as if memorizing each part of it. Then he's slowly directing his way to your neck, with four fingers on one side and his thumb on the other, going up and down with featherly touches as his eyes are glued to your legs, completely blank, admiring each curve going from the arch of your feet to your calves, and then to your thighs, stopping at the start of your tight skirt. Now he’s gripping your neck - just lightly pressing on it, your airflow is completely free. (for now). You can’t help but wonder what’s going on inside his mind, lying to yourself that feeling his firm hand around your neck is not making you want to rub your legs together, but you're already doing it a bit, discreetly, not knowing you’re being very thoroughly watched. As he’s breathing deeper to try to not get excited, you feel his hand slowly letting go of your neck and you whine inwardly at it. But then his hands hesitantly go higher, his slender fingers sliding across your chin to play with your lips as he remembered to compliment you. He opens his mouth to do it, but being so lost in thought he just stops. Staring at your legs with an empty gaze, completely out of it. God, they’d look so good around his cock. Fuck.  You look up, a bit surprised with his actions, slowly tilting your head to the side, looking at him. - the movement makes him get out of his trance, suddenly confused as to how his fingers got to your lips - but as if reading his mind, you part them, waiting. And then he gets it. The key to making himself touch you like he wants to is just to - not think. It makes sense, it's a part of him he never let himself explore. He then lets himself do what he wants, sliding his middle and index finger on your tongue, experimenting. As you close your lips around them, looking at him so puppy-eyed, he can't help but smirk as realizing he could get used to this very quickly. You start feeling him growing against your ass now.

He presses down on your tongue, smiling. “You look so beautiful wearing this color, love.”

So, Zayne doesn’t play with any part of your body - because as soon as he does it, he gets a problem under his trousers. And now that he knows how to let go of control, - you got one too.

Sylus

Sylus wouldn’t be the type of man to touch you without being full-on intentional with it. The same amount of hate he has towards ‘quickies’, he has for the idea of touching your most sensitive parts without being completely devoted to them. So when playing with you, it is usually filled with admiration and love, silently appreciating your presence by his side. That’s why you often find him mindlessly braiding your hair as you lay your head on his lap to watch a movie, or how he gently runs his fingernails - once claws - on your calf under the table when he’s discussing his next moves with the twins. Yeah, sometimes his hands wander a little bit higher, a little bit firmer, but always looking at you to watch your reaction; as if to just - test the waters, tease you to see your ears turn red.. or warm you up for what’s coming next.

[technitaur]

It's all about control, and about making people dependent on their religious leaders for guidance and salvation. The more you can make people think that they're Bad for their natural thoughts and urges, the more desperate they become for reassurance and forgiveness - and the more likely they are to start dropping a bit more in the collection plate.

There is value in teaching a reasonable amount of temperance, like 'don't do this pleasurable thing so much that it interferes with your life - and if you can't stop yourself, then it'd be good to take a look at why that is and try to address it.'

But that kind of temperance isn't sensational enough. Organized religion loves their extremes. If people are simply content, they're less likely to throw their whole body and soul into their religion. Make them desperate from self-denial, get them frenzied with a sensational performance, convince them that they've been helped by the Lord in some way, and now you have a faithful follower who will give you their last breath.

Sometimes I think about how in the times of knights and crusades, it was considered your duty to your God to go off to battle for your King. If you're a peasant who genuinely believes that your King is on the throne because of a divine mandate, then what choice do you really have when you're recruited and told to march off to battle? You don't want to defy the will of God, do you?

Again, it comes back to control. We even see the 'King' effect today, in the USA, as people practically worship Trump to the point of thinking he's the second coming of Jesus. And nobody even had to threaten them at swordpoint to make them believe it. That's the scariest part, I think, is that many people seem to want to be religiously controlled. Probably because they believe that's the easiest way to ensure that they'll be saved.

You see it all the time with Prosperity Gospel preachers. People are willing to give up their entire life savings because they think some guy is capable of giving spring water (which is probably just tap water anyway) miraculous properties.

I consider myself a spiritual person, but I avoid organized religion like the plague. Prosperity Gospel makes me sick, as does the overly performative religious proselytizing that we're starting to see on TikTok and similar. If that shit isn't taking the Lord's name in vain, I don't know what is. And it's all in the name of control - gaining adoration, gaining money, gaining influence.

Spirituality is supposed to set you free, not put you in shackles. Especially not when the key is held by some mortal who isn't any better than you are. Spirituality should be for the individual's personal growth - not as a weapon to harm and exploit others with.

The most insidious part is that it's not even a weapon you have to wield for very long. When you can make a person feel shame just for being alive, all you have to do is give them the sword and convince them to fall on it. And most people have a very hard time getting back up. Many of them never do.

not to be anti-religious but i do wonder if teaching children that they are innately flawed and sinful is, perhaps, not a healthy worldvi

[gyaruhana]

Omg can we get some more player 120 (Cho Hyun-ju) sfw n nsfw headcanons where shes protective n dominant? Pls n thank uu I loved ur last work w her🩷

Cho Hyun-ju/Player 120 - Headcannons (sfw + nsfw)

Synopsis: more Hyun-ju headcannons !

A/N: ask and i shall serve !!

Warnings: smut content

SFW:

➠ i'm immediately jumping into the scene in the last episode where she was locked in bc holy moly she was so hot.. ➠ wouldn't let you go with her unless you were well-trained with a gun and able to handle it ➠ even then she's always keeping you close behind her ➠ When she's not shooting at the guards, she's looking at you to make sure you're doing okay ➠ if you run out of ammo, she doesn't hesitate to give you one of her magazines ➠ If you end up panicking she's immediately there to distract you from the gunshots and reassuring you that everything is fine and you'll both be okay ➠ and you both will be because she refuses to die or to let you die ➠ not when you both had already made plans for Thailand after you get out of here ➠ On a lighter note !! ➠ most doting girl ever ➠ does give you some of her food sometimes if you're feeling hungry ➠ If someone insults you, she's instantly at your side to defend you ➠ she HATES people thinking they can treat you badly ➠ do play with her hair she loves it sm ➠ expect her to hold your hand a lot because she's not afraid of PDA ➠ late night talks after lights out which sometimes just turns into staring into each others eyes ➠ so many quiet "I love you"'s whispered during those talks too ➠ likes when you cup her face in your hands honestly ➠ you guys are always talking about WHEN you make it out of this place and never if ➠ so so many plans for Thailand ➠ After the death of Young-mi, she definitely needed your comfort and got so much more protective of you ➠ if you go to the bathrooms, she's right there behind you ➠ you're basically never alone during the games ➠ Absolutely fights for you ➠ Overall, so protective of you and not afraid to put someone in their place if they disrespect you

"I have a few nice places to live in Thailand saved on my phone. I can show you them when we get out," you speak from your bed as you turn to face her. She smiles slightly at your words and nods her head. You both had been planning for Thailand since forever and now the dream seemed so much closer with the money you could take home. Even if some people died, neither of you would be next. Not as long as you were there to protect each other and survive this hellish place together. "I'd like that,"

NSFW:

➠ Again, she's gentle. ➠ not a big fan of having public sex so she often takes you to the bathroom with her if you guys are in the mood ➠ most skillfull pussy eater icl ➠ she knows exactly how to make you feel good ➠ gentle and meaningful kisses that convey so much love ➠ she's just a gentle cutie ➠ always whispering praises to you ➠ baby, my girl, sweetheart - literally every sweet pet name in the book ➠ refuses to be rough with you because she wants to help you relax and be calm from the stress of the games and the death ➠ always kisses you after making you cum on her fingers ➠ which happens quite quickly honestly.. ➠ she's just a little too good at fingering you.. ➠ she's practically memorized every part of you though that's why ➠ encourages volume and expressing how you feel ➠ she bases her pace on your facial expressions because she's ridiculously observant ➠ Overall, gentle girlfriend who knows how to please you<3

"You're close, yeah?" She says quietly as she looks up at you, her fingers continuing to thrust in and out of you quickly. The two of you didn't have a lot of time as the guard waiting just outside the bathroom likely wouldn't let you stay for long. That's why she was so quick with her fingers. The last thing she'd want is for you to be left without a release. "Go ahead. Cum on my fingers, my love,"

[takes1]

PLEASE I NEED MATSUKAWA OR KUNUMI OR EVEN MADDOG PLEASE IM BEGGING 🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🙏

thankz ::3 -🩻

clingy!kentarou x reader (taming maddog)

heyyyy :) finally getting to this hope it's aight

warnings. heavy nsfw, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / riding maddog / 69 / obsessive!maddog / clingy!needy!maddog / possessive!maddog / loneliness theme / 'i can fix him' trope / libero!reader / johsai girls' team reader / maddog being canonically mean / implied virginity / experienced!reader / emotionally intelligent reader / emotionally stunted maddog / 3.6k words

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3

"(Y/n), like, I know you've got a type and all..."

"Mhmm," You follow absentmindedly, tracking your latest obsession like a hawk.

Number 16 was different- not just attractive, but he had a threatening, intense, sharp presence about him. He was just about the only member of the guys' team who didn't subscribe to a cheerful, cooperative environment. His little outburst earlier caught your attention, and he was currently benched for pushing Oikawa.

He sure was aggressive. You bit your lip and watched him stretch from the bleachers.

"But I heard he's actually crazy."

The other girls on your team would never understand what possessed you to put yourself in danger, going after the most deviant of guys you could find. It was an endearing joke amongst the team, at this point, but they did worry for your safety.

"What's his name?" You looked to them for the first time, mind already made up.

Whispers of Kentarou, Kyoutani, Maddog, were shared as you settled back to watching him. Lots of horror stories of him getting in trouble, getting into fights, yelling at teachers, other students, getting suspended for a time all encouraged you. The nickname he earned made you significantly more fascinated.

You could fix him. It would at least be fun to try.

You couldn't help but ponder where his true fault lied, how it twisted into so much unwarranted aggression.

Was he not held as a baby? Did he have a bad home life? Had it manifested into some kind of sexual dysfunction? You wondered if he was this big of a presence in the bedroom. You smiled at the strong possibility that he wasn't.

Maybe that was a bit Freudian of you to assume, but your previous diagnoses hadn't steered you wrong yet. The guys you slept with were all weirdos- losers- psychos- and yet, they were all a step closer to normal after a little love.

They couldn't stop you from approaching, especially when nobody had the guts to go anywhere near him.

"Hi," You tapped his shoulder after a bout of hesitation.

He looked to the side, then behind, and realized you were referring to him.

His brow fell from its subtle version of surprise, making all his features look heavier, meaner-- you shuddered.

"Yo." Was all he said.

Though dismissive and already uncomfortable, it was enough to work with.

You smoothed out your uniform with a nervous sigh, "Um- I'm sorry if this is forward, but,"

"I think you're really cute. I'd like to go on a date, sometime."

Kentarou looked angry even when he was shocked. The dark around his eyes made it impossible to look soft, and it seemed he didn't have the capacity to smile yet.

The only way you could deduce that he was embarrassed was the way his hands balled into fists at his sides, how he looked around your face over, over, and over again for an ounce of insincerity.

It was adorable. You giggled at his long silence.

Laughing shut him down. His mouth curled in a sneer, positive you were laughing at him.

The gaggle of girls, filling the entrance to the gym, all clad in your uniform, wasn't great for optics. It looked like you were playing a prank on him.

"Are you kiddin' me?" He rolled his eyes before you could even try to explain, "Go fuck yourself."

It wasn't the first time something like this had happened. Though you loved your team, visible swarms of women never put the guys you went after at ease.

That rejection was still tame for what you had seen before from him.

He put his back to you and crossed his arms, watching the game, instead. Getting benched and made fun of couldn't have been a great feeling.

Determined now, you shook out your nerves and tapped his shoulder again.

"Tch-! I said fuck off!" He scowled down at you, but you knew it was misguided. So it didn't hurt as bad.

You purposefully didn't mirror his body language- you didn't want him to cut him off even more. You stood facing him at an angle, trying to catch his eye and take his attention again.

Voice quiet, sweeter, genuine, "I'm serious."

Even if this was a joke, you were the most persistent he had ever seen. Nobody usually got this far. If he told somebody to leave, they did. Especially after the second time, and a girl, at that.

"I mean- I get it if you're not into short girls, that's totally fine," You fixed your hair, glancing away from his overwhelmed, slow expression, "But, please, just... think about it. Here's my number."

For a moment, you were unsure if he would take the paper in your hand. He gave you zero indication that he believed your story, but after just enough time to make you doubt, he took it.

Kentarou held it tight, confused, as you joined your team to leave the gym. He watched them look over and preen you like birds to make sure you weren't hurt.

It could've been a real confession. The gravity of it didn't truly land until he was back home, looking up the girls' team Instagram to find your personal handle. You were following the page and even had a few features in their posts.

Doubts began to grow that it was your real number. He decided he didn't want to use it.

Instead, he lay on his bed, palming himself to the poses of your greatest receives- you were such a pretty girl, with a nice body, cute face--reminded of those things now, it only made him more skeptical at your choice to speak to him.

Luck was on his side once again, because your own profile was public. You even had a few beach posts. Lots of likes, lots of followers. You wouldn't notice if he liked a few of them, unless you were being honest about your interest.

You were all over his signals in a flash.

A follow, a bit of page-stalking that got you nowhere (because he had 0 online presence, other than a couple blank accounts), and a long string of messages that went deep into the night, all earned you a date.

Now that the game had officially begun, you needed to curate each move carefully. If you waited too long to take advantage of any clear signs of interest, he wouldn't find you worth the trouble. You needed some dick.

Kentarou was lonely, too.

It was as you suspected, monitoring him during that practice match. People who had a good support system didn't act that way he did.

He wasn't wistful, or desperate, and didn't invite friendship. Shit, he barely let you court him, and the only way you could convince him to meet you for coffee was if you sent a few pictures 'to prove it was just you.' And yet, after the one misunderstanding, he didn't deny you any opportunity to get close.

His experiences shaped him to be incredibly firm, mistrusting, and overly cautious, yes; It all fell short though, when it came to the very simple, universal longing for companionship.

The cafe wasn't too quiet, thankfully.

You were most worried about the possibility of him causing some sort of commotion and being asked to leave, but other patrons were lively enough to drown him out, if he did raise his voice.

To your surprise, that also wasn't much of an issue.

He ordered for the two of you, even -begrudgingly- accepting that you wanted a more intricate drink, too. He didn't let you do much for yourself. When he told you to go find a seat while he waited at the counter, you stayed with him so you could be close. He still didn't argue.

Though he wasn't polite, he wasn't a monster. He was just brimming with attitude, and that rubbed people the wrong way. When unprovoked, he was mean-looking, sure, but docile.

A predatory gaze watched the skirt of your casual dress flutter up- just a little, not quite enough- as you sat down next to him with your elaborate drink in hand. He set his cup down and you felt his leg flex as you closed the distance to snuggle up to him.

"You're taking this joke pretty far."

Insecurity filled the quiet between his words, and it took a sensitive ear to detect under all the venom. Was he testing you? Probably. Was he still trying to protect himself? Absolutely.

"Mm," You considered how to respond while sipping on your coffee, staring forward, not really minding his intensity, "I don't have the kind of time to go on fake dates, you know."

It was an argument less emotional in nature, but due to its legitimacy, it left him stumped enough to drop the subject.

In its wake remained discomfort. Mostly at your thigh, busy rubbing against him as you pretended to be more invested in the ambience of the cafe, or the flavor of the drink in your hands.

"What're you doing it for?" He pressed, different, but still carried with a grumbly, shitty attitude he always spoke in.

That took some getting used to, but once you understood he just talked that way, you were able to take his words at face value and waste less time miscommunicating.

A warm hand, palming the squish of your bare thigh encouraged your desire to be honest.

You waited for him to stop scanning the cafe, for the right moment to tell him.

His eyes dipped first to your pretty thighs, all soft and warm and new in his hand. Then he was taken by the all the sweetness in the way you looked at him.

"I wanna sleep with you."

You expected him to not believe you, like the first time, but his surprise was now pretty conventional.

His mouth hung open, just a little, and you noticed a tongue piercing. How did you miss it before? Did he not wear it at school? Your thighs tightened and he met it with a firm squeeze as he took a sobering drink of his coffee.

It was obvious he wanted to know why. But he was looking for something better to say, instead.

"The fuck are we doing here?"

That was a good question. Such a good question, in fact, that after a bit of conversation about where to go to fuck, you landed on going back to your place.

He made himself comfortable on your bed as you shut the door and locked it, just in case. Your room didn't have a whole lot of conversation starters, so he took a while to really examine it.

He wasn't witty, or spontaneous, or chatty.

There was no value in sitting around, acting like you wanted to delve into a discussion about each other's families, or grades, or volleyball.

His brow softened as you dropped the straps of your dress down.

There was a small attempt to look you in the eye, which you appreciated in a very limited context, but once you kept going, he might as well have been wearing a collar.

A half-sigh, half-laugh pushed out of his open mouth, brow furrowed again, as he tried to speak a few times while you posed for him, drunk on such a cute, endearing reaction.

There were a lot of things for him to think about. You could almost smell the smoke of grinding gears when you stood in front him and rubbed your hands against his shoulders.

He kept getting his fill, eyes unable to stay in one place too long, practically trying to back up so he could keep looking at all of you.

You giggled, "Kentarou?"

His breath stopped. You couldn't feel it, tingling across your skin, anymore.

You took some fingers to his curly hair, playing with it, "Aren't you gonna touch me?"

"I-," He didn't know what to do with himself for a moment, "Where?"

Your charmed, bitten back smile made his ears bright, bright red. Instead of telling him, you settled onto his lap and felt for his hands, gently guiding them towards your hips.

It was slow, natural, and gentle how you decided to kiss him.

You could feel how heated he was, with one hand on the back of his neck, the other cooling off the side of his face. One second to part for some breath, which he needed, badly- you waited for him to say something.

But he was forcing his mouth back onto yours quicker than you thought he would- his fingers dug into your flesh, and he brought you down onto his hard-on with a sudden loss of reservation.

It didn't take long to start catching that little tongue piercing against your lip- you groaned against his mouth, "Fuck, I really like that."

He was a fast, eager, and very rough learner. Kentarou was also laughably easy to please, because it was obvious he had no preferences built up yet. Everything you did left him stunned and hungry.

You reveled in your private victory and helped him undress. He wasn't shy about his own body, but you made it clear that he had a nice figure by taking the time to kiss along his muscular arm, then shoulder, and up to his neck.

His quickness to mirror you, kissing the same places on your body, was cute. He never once smiled, but he showed his investment in other ways.

When you offered to 69, he immediately fell onto his back from his upright position, rubbing his warm face.

A weak, "Yes," from under his palms was all you got, but it was so sweet from a guy like him. He sounded broken in, in a way.

You pressed a deserving kiss to his jaw and turned around.

His cock looked just as angry as he was, normally. Twitchy, leaking a bit of precum on his toned tummy, tinged dark with the all the time it had been waiting.

"You're- so fuckin' wet," He sounded stunned to say that aloud, understand what it actually meant, and that he was obsessed with it.

You smiled and pressed a kiss to the base of his cock as you settled into a good position.

How long had it been since you got laid? Apparently too long, because you were dripping with anticipation at the salty taste of his tip sliding past your teeth.

That was the downside of having such a specific type. Not many options.

He was still figuring out how to use his own mouth when you took the breath out of him- a strangled gasp at the sound, the sensation of your lips and tongue sucking off the slickness there. You held him by the base, briefly.

"You should let me know if you like it," You teased, just before bobbing your head back down.

"Mm-mmnh-! Fuck! Do I-ahh, have to?"

With that whiny tone?

You slowly came back up, careful to leave no spit behind. He was flexing in your jaw, his stomach twitching against your chest. Poor thing wouldn't last very long, he was so sensitive.

"Uhh, yes," You grinned, tongue darting out to lick him all the way down his shaft.

"Fuuuck- whatever- augh, just keep doin' that," His groan broke into a murmur of sorts, against your pussy.

From there, he was starting to find what worked with you. It was curious, and not great, but you didn't need it to be; something about the clingy way he held you, the shift in his attitude, was making you feel like you could take him already.

It made your nails dig, deep into his thighs, your already sparse breath grow a bit shorter.

Though his desperate tone and slow, gentle tongue made some parts of you tighten, it helped your throat relax and take more of him.

He started to come apart long before you wanted to be done.

Breathy, incomplete "Stopstop-sta-aah," every twenty seconds flattered you, letting you take more frequent breaks to ride his face and break in that little metal ball.

You thought about his nickname during one of these breaks. It was one of those instances where it seemed fitting, but for more than just surface-level aggression.

Nothing about him scared you. Not after you showed him that you had no ill-intention. He was like a dog. He wasn't vicious because it was in his nature; he just had a thorn in his paw.

He 'bit' people because they didn't give him a chance.

All of these chances you were giving him proved that he was worth all the effort to get close. It wasn't even much work, in hindsight.

You showed him the mechanics of the condom you brought for the occasion, and managed to talk him through some important sex-centered courtesies.

"So, y'know, you'll want to yield to whatever she's ready for--,"

Kentarou kept you from sitting on his cock, for just a second-- his eyes grew narrow, darting around your face.

"You mean: 'you.'" He corrected.

He looked like he was about to bite through your face.

"Right!" You smiled, growing a bit warm at your inconsiderate slip in language, "Yeah, of course."

Your apologetic kisses, smattered all along his sensitive face and neck, calmed him. His grip softened, slowly, as he became convinced that this was sacred again.

As you started to take him, he forgot all about it.

"Aughh- my go-d," He couldn't stop watching where you came together with a knotted brow, at how slick, and tight, and hot you were.

Your confidence read in the form of slow, rolling motions of your hips, the cloudy look in your eyes as you were finally getting filled up again after such a dry spell of no dick. You put your hands over his, already on your hips, and encouraged him to squeeze harder.

"Mmn-ah-h," You placed your hands on his chest, to keep yourself upright.

It hurt, how much he reciprocated that squeeze, but you quickly learned to like the sting.

Like most everything else, he replicated what you showed him. He started fucking you back, his hips able to take you faster, harder--

The pretty little pout on your lips was enough to make him screw his eyes shut, just to try to settle down.

He was getting so worked up at your tight little cunt that he was forced to let you keep your slower pace, contribute a little less, for fear he'd finish too soon.

His breath was like a stutter- so shallow and huffy that you rubbed your hand across his cheek, to check if he was okay. As you did this, the look in his eyes burned into the back of your skull.

You had seen that somewhere before. Not in someone you knew personally.

"Mm-mnh-!"

You were careful not to look away from it, and you only closed your eyes when it was too intense, too good to see straight.

The way he gripped you was like a lifeline, clawing, leaving rough and raised lines across you-- It wasn't intended to hurt, but more or less to make sure he left you with some lasting impression. He didn't understand that he didn't need to do it.

He couldn't take the concern on your face. Not as you fucked him so close, not with that perfect body taking his cock so well. Nobody ever looked at him with so much warmth.

"Ah! Just- just like that," You gasped, shaky all of a sudden.

"Fuck-," He sighed, suddenly having to remember what exactly he was doing.

He grimaced, face twisted in the pain of trying not to cum, head thrown back so he didn't have to look at you.

But your hand left his chest to grasp him by the jaw- it wasn't hard, but it was enough to move him. You begged him to look at you. You wanted him to watch you, and it looked like he was just short of a confessing something sinful.

Worship.

That's what you saw. In those narrowed eyes were praise, an exaltation of the love you had spared for him.

It filled you with a dizzying, raw confidence- you took in a breath through your nose, getting railed so hard, so close that your eyes started watering.

"Fuck- I'm-Ah--!" You couldn't quite finish your sentence before you crashed over, your body seized up, firm, grabbing and gripping him like you needed, wanted him so bad.

It left him a groveling, panting mess underneath you. He was watching in awe just like you told him to, only allowed to cum after you were done.

He fucked it all out of you, thanks to the timing. Your slow wave-riding kept you pleasant and buzzed as he fucked you hard for his own orgasm.

You even egged him on, breathless, a little smirk only interrupted by a pleasurable wince a couple of times.

"You wanna cum for me?"

"Yeah? Yeah?"

After finishing so loud and performative, nothing could have prepared you for how cuddly and silent he got.

You shouldn't have given into the desire to hug him, because he wouldn't let you move to pull him out.

"Mm-mm," Was pressed in a sloppy kiss against your neck.

Those muscular arms were shaking a little, just barely, around your waist.

"I'm- not going anywhere," You laughed, returning a few light kisses against his temple, "But we need to clean up."

He made it difficult, almost impossible, to separate and throw the condom away. You opted to just tie in a knot and throw it closer to the trash can so you didn't have to get up.

The way he watched you was careful, intense, looking for any opening to get closer to you again.

You finally sighed, smiling, "Okay."

Kentarou pulled you back down to lay next to him at the soonest opportunity. He kept an arm heavy over your chest, his leg kicked between yours, his eyes never leaving the side of your face.

His intensity was what you signed up for, but now, warm under his persistent and acute attention, you realized: maybe you hadn't thought this through the whole way.

☆VIP☆

@integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco

my masterlist. more haikyuu

[awrkive]

For the milestone bash

No. 23 from the smut list with any of your jks please and thankyou ☺️

23. "I saw on your Amazon wishlist you wanted a dildo. You know I got a dick, right?"

note: last drabble im posting for awhile and also the reqs are closed!! thank u sm for participating in the follower milestone game and im sorry if i wasnt able to write the req that you sent in 😔! dw im still going to go over them once in a while, one of these days.

wc: 1.3k

warning/s: p in v s*x, himbo!jk (hes so stupid i have a crush on him)

Jungkook can be infuriating sometimes. Your friends assume that the reason you dislike him is because he’s a big himbo who can’t even say the word misogyny right and has a GPA lower than a minor earthquake magnitude, but you find that’s the least of your concern when the man has a problem with privacy. 

He doesn’t know it. He absolutely has no concept of it and you thought – upon the first month of being roommates with him – that he’s just the typical fratboy who likes flaunting his body to any audience because he knows he looks good, but he genuinely just doesn’t like hanging around with clothes on and would always forget that you exist and he can’t just parade around with nothing but his tight boxers on during the weekends. 

Jungkook’s the type to not lock his bedroom. He’s the type to not knock when entering the bathroom, the type to not shy away when he sees your underwear in the laundry room. He doesn’t have shame – and it’s exactly why he sticks his nose into your phone charging at the outlet by the island counter with the Amazon app opened while you go and take out the trash real quick. 

In his defense, he didn’t mean to. He just walked past it when he was making his toast – but a very neon picture on your lit up screen caught his attention and when he squinted his eyes, he almost couldn’t believe it. 

A dildo. There’s a pink dildo in your Amazon wishlist, sandwiched by a list of otherwise beige-colored stationery items that included a lot of… notebooks.

And you definitely could not miss it. Not when it’s neon! And not when… what? Eight inches? 

Jungkook scoffs.

That's exactly his size! 

He couldn’t believe his eyes. You… a dildo in your Amazon wishlist? Hah. Jungkook didn’t expect that. He’s always seen you as this… prude, somewhat innocent librarian. And you are actually a part-time librarian at school. And you kind of act sort of prude-ish, and there’s nothing wrong with it – not really, Jungkook thinks. You’re still hot and sexy to him – although, he tries to not think of you that way because you’re really nice to him even though he knows he can be a bit too much sometimes and he knows he isn’t exactly the type of person you keep in your circle.

He kept a rowdy set of friends (except Yoongi) while you go out with your intellectual friend group who are all members of an intelligent club at uni. You know, debate club, the school paper, maths and sciences… Jungkook’s just shocked you even entertain him because boy, do your friends kind of hate him. 

Anyway. The dildo. Oh wow. This definitely changes things – but Jungkook doesn’t know what exactly. He never thought about whether you’re still a virgin or not, but finding out about the dildo in your Amazon wishlist is definitely making him think things.

Can you even handle the eight inches anyway? You’re kind of small. The girls he’s been with had always commented on how big he is but he’s very efficient with it and he knows well enough to make the girl cum twice before putting it in so the stretch doesn’t hurt. Would you use lube if you used that plastic dick? You must, you should… but like, Jungkook is also really good at cunnilingus because no one loves pussy as much as him so maybe, you’d need someone’s help to prep you and—

“Jungkook?” 

Jungkook feels every hair on his body standing up when he hears your voice behind him. In quick succession, he manages to make it seem like he’s checking out the chip on the edge of the counter instead of your phone. 

“Hey!” he greets you with a smile. 

His heart skips a beat when your eyebrows furrow, eyes landing from his face to your phone. None of you say anything until you walk further into the kitchen. Then, you grab your phone and turn it off. 

“I’ll head out in fifteen minutes. I’m sleeping over at Yena’s for a group study. Can you lock the door later?” You ask him. 

It’s weird because it isn’t the first time you went around in a tank top and a pair of short shorts inside the apartment, but right now all Jungkook can think of is how tight your shorts are. And also how smooth your skin is – and how nice your chest looks.

“Jungkook?” You call again, and Jungkook snaps out of his trance. 

“Uh… yeah, sure.” 

“Okay. Thank you.” 

It’s the last thing you said before you take out your charger and go straight to your bedroom. 

Jungkook stands there in the kitchen wide-eyed, a bit stunned at the turn of events. 

———

You knew Jungkook saw that. And you ranted about it to Yena – how embarrassed you were for having him see the damn dildo in your wishlist. You weren’t embarrassed about wishlisting a dildo – you’re just embarrassed that Jungkook has seen it out of all people. 

Ever since that day, you’ve been trying to avoid him. Not that it’s hard because your schedules don’t align most of the time but Sundays are always free and you have no choice but to face him over dinners. 

What you’ve noticed, though, is that… Jungkook is being a little different, too. He usually has that suave, easy-going vibe to him, and it’s fine if his approach to other people has changed as well but you realized it’s only you he’s being weird to. 

So you decide to confront him. 

And it ends up this way. 

“Oh my god–” You gasp audibly when Jungkook inserts the first inch of his cock in your pussy, mouth agape as you stare into his eyes while he continues to get in deeper. 

“Jesus fuck.” Jungkook moans, tightening his hold around your waist. “Tightest pussy I’ve– ah, shit, stop clenching, pretty.” 

You look absolutely delicious with your mouth hanging open, pleasure written all over your face. Jungkook would lie if he says that he hasn’t thought about how you’d look like during sex – especially over the past few weeks but for some reason, the universe has pull its strings for you two to end up this way and the Academy really ought to give him an award for not nutting just right after putting his dick in you because phew, you’re more than what he imagined. 

“Oh, that– that feels good,” you pant, hands reaching out for his biceps. “Harder, Jungkook.” 

And he does go harder, pulling out for a moment and slamming right back into your tight pussy which welcomes and grips him like a vice he swears he’s popping veins over how much he has to constraint himself from going crazy. 

But maybe he’s giving himself too much credit because one second you’re moaning and it sounds like music to his ears but then the next he’s saying something stupid like, “I–shiiit– I saw on your Amazon wishlist you wanted a dildo. You know I got a dick, right?” 

Jungkook’s got to stop running his mouth. Namjoon tells him he’s way too chattery sometimes and he’s right but he can’t help that he has a lot of thoughts in his head! So what if he thinks that he can outdo a dildo in any way? From the looks of your face right now, it seems like he can!

But you have a deadpan look on your face, a contrast to how you looked just seconds ago.

He’s prepared himself for something that would ruin this moment, but you only stare at him and say, “Yeah. So put it to good use and shut up.” 

Jungkook thinks he’d cum in the next ten seconds. 

“Yes, ma’am.” He grunts as he slides in and out, picking up his pace, sweat forming in his temples. He greedily lets his hand wander over your breasts and squeeze one, making you moan.

“Good.” 

You don’t know where you began and ended, all you know now is that as much as Jungkook can be infuriating sometimes, at least he can make you cum. 

And oh, he was definitely way better than the dildo Amazon had just dropped into your door three days ago. 

[totalswag]

Hey girl so I was wanting more dad drew and I was wondering if you could do something like where Tatum is like a teenager and her personality is a lot like her moms which causes them to buttheads sometimes, and in one argument Tatum says some hurtful thing to her mom making her mom cry so drew had to have a talk with her. You can add Leo to idk I was just kinda thinking but besides the point I love your work and I think your amazing keep up the great work girl love ya

teen tension ⎯ DREW STARKEY

authors note stop i miss writing dad!drew, one of my favorites. tatum as a teenager is a mixture of both parents. thank you so much for the kind words it really means a lot. happy new year everyone, i hope you all had a fun and safe night <3

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masterlist

summary tatum, your oldest, says a few hurtful words to you that make you cry. drew has a conversation with tatum about what she did to you.

warning(s) arguments, crying, child + parent arguing.

Tatum is very much like you when you were a teenager. Moments during the week where you two buttheads about certain things that are typical for a mom and daughters to "argue" about.

However, tonight took a turn for the worse. Everyone was sitting at the dinner table finishing up dinner. It had been a long day at work for Drew and you been home cleaning the house.

Leo was talking about how his day went—recently, Leo, has gotten into basketball and wanted to try out for the school. Drew and you were excited to hear the news and encouraged Leo to try out.

"Tatum, could you kindly get off your phone? "Your brother is talking," you say aloud, attracting her attention as you point to Leo, who has stopped talking.

Tatum rolls her eyes and sets her phone on the table beside her dish. "You can put it on the counter please."

"Why can't I leave it next to me?" She gives you an attitude, "We are sitting at the dinner table eating, and none of us have our phones next to us," your tone remains casual but firm.

"Leo can still talk and I won't be on my phone" crossing her arms over her chest, not bothering to move her phone from the table.

Before Tatum can finish speaking, Drew cuts her off with a clear and serious voice and says, "Tatum, watch your tone and listen to your mom." 

Tatum groans loudly, pushes her chair out, picks up her phone, walks to the kitchen, and puts it down after rolling her eyes in frustration.

"There look you happy mom?" Tatum mumbles "so dumb" under her breath as she emphasizes with her palms raised.

You hear her say, "It's not stupid, Tatum." We've had this regulation in place for a very long time, so I don't see why everyone is acting this way—" Tatum slams her hand on the table and interrupts you in the middle of your statement. 

"Please, Mom, just shut up already. I'm tired of you being irritating these past few days—" "Tatum Ann Starkey you will not speak to your mom like that, ever!" Drew abruptly interrupts her, throwing his fist on the table, causing everyone to jump. He gestures for her to "go up to your room now," and Tatum gives him a terrified face.

The corners of your eyes well up with tears. Leo comes running to you and gives you utter comfort. You are wondering why Tatum has suddenly started acting this way.

Leo hugs you close to him and says in your ear, "You are the best mom ever, mom. You did nothing wrong."

"Thank you baby."

"Leo, while I comfort your mother, could you please return the little condiments to their proper places? "Thank you, buddy," Drew says to Leo, who nods and follows instructions.

"Are you okay baby?" Drew asks, crouching down and placing both hands on your knees, looking at you with concern. 

"I'm fine, just confused as to why she's acting this way towards me," you say gently, sniffling.

Drew and you begin discussing what has just occurred. Drew was not pleased with Tatum's actions toward you, her mother. You do so lot for this family, and Tatum does not need to vent her frustration on you.

Drew soothed you in every manner conceivable, making you feel more at peace about yourself—he's the best thing that has ever happened to you. The sound of his words made you relax, and tears streamed down your cheeks.

"I'm gonna have a talk with her upstairs," he pauses, "I love you."

You give him a soft smile, pulling the front strained away from your face—leaning forward in your chair, thinking what just happened. So many thoughts running through your head.

Drew knocked on Tatum's bedroom door, and you knew he was going to give her a big lecture on how to communicate with your parents. You've discussed this with both of your children numerous times.

Leo walks into the living room with a bowl of ice cream for himself and you—he's always been a momma's boy. Leo brings you the bowl and takes a seat next to you on the couch. "Thank you, Leo," you say, throwing your free arm around him and drawing him into a side embrace. 

"Of course mom, I love you."

After five minutes, Tatum and Drew come downstairs. Drew muttered something to Tatum before elbowing her toward you. Leo moves from the couch to wherever Drew is in the home.

As she settles on the couch beside you, Tatum sighs—crisscross apple sauce. "Mom I'm sorry for the way I spoke to you at the dinner table," she says after a little pause. "I shouldn't spoken to you like that."

You take in Tatum's words, "I forgive you, Tatum. What you said to me really hurt," Tatum lets a tear fall from her cheek, "be cautious with your words, darling, I love you," taking her in for a loving, lengthy hug.

You and Tatum unwind in each other's arms while letting the tears flow. Tatum reiterated the same words to you: "I love you, mom, and I apologize." Regardless of how you argue, you will always adore your children.

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[cherrysolo]

loooove the way you wrote pissed lu, i remember reading something from his old roommate (?) where he said he never saw him anything but calm so i couldn’t picture it until i saw your reply to the request!! would love to see more of him trying to keep himself calm or how he would react to pissed reader <3

thank you sm!! I remember seeing his old roommate say that! it was very difficult for me to write because I don’t picture him as an angry person, so it was a good challenge! I’m so glad you loved it <3

this little piece is inspired by your request to see how the reader acts when she’s pissed and how lu deals with it. it’s also inspired by Taylor Swift’s song “all too well”. (if u guys get the references hehe). plus I deal with anxiety so this is soooo me lmao.

you and Luigi had flown from Hawaii to Pennsylvania to have a reunion dinner with his fraternity brothers. all of his closest college friends would be there with their significant others. you were so excited to finally meet some of his best college friends, you knew how much they meant to him.

as excited as you were, you were just as nervous. you struggled with social anxiety and meeting new people in large groups, something that luigi didn’t have trouble with at all. sometimes it felt isolating to have a partner who was very social and flourished in large groups. but anyway you did it for him, you just needed to relax and put on a happy face for him.

the dinner was going well as the boys reminisced, and the girlfriends made small talk. explaining their new job titles, talking about post-collegiate bliss, and looking back on their lives at penn.

quickly coming to the realization that you were the only one who didn’t go to an Ivy League school. you just studied English literature in Montreal, nothing special. all of these successful twenty somethings, long history of accomplishments, and you’re just… you. your eyes dotting back and forth at everyone at the table, just realizing how beautiful and blonde all these women are. did lu go to school with them too? my god, you felt so small and insecure with these anxiety-ridden thoughts flying through your mind. the smell of food began to be too much, your hair was sticking sweaty to your neckline, and your leg started bouncing to help calm yourself. you knew that these thoughts were untrue and were created in your mind, but your heart couldn’t stop racing. you didn’t feel good enough, to be by his side.

Luigi has always been a practical person, but he understood you struggled with anxiety and being in unfamiliar situations. He has never truly been in your shoes, but he tries his best to help out in anxiety-ridden situations, by grounding you or repeating your mantras.

Since he was used to comforting you in these situations, you quietly tried to grab his hand while he was talking to his ex-roommate to his left. you grab his hand, placing it on the table and intertwining your fingers. this is typically what you guys do to ground yourself in public, it’s a simple and sweet gesture.

as quickly as you grab his hand, it’s gone. he gives you a side eye, drops your hand, and continues his conversation like nothing happened. he dismisses you, in a way he hasn’t before. the act is cold and shocks you to no end. you then excuse yourself to the bathroom to calm down. while pacing back and forth in the ladies' room, you begin to have even more thoughts about what just occurred. why can’t he be affectionate in front of his friends? do I embarrass him? do you think they’re noticing how long I’ve been gone? taking some deep breaths, you walk back to the table.

…

“why have you been ignoring me the whole way back to the hotel?” luigi confronted you as soon as the door unlocked.

you scoffed, your anxiety and upset eyes had turned into anger. you felt embarrassed and angry that you even felt anxious and that you couldn’t be as socially acceptable as your partner.

“it’s nothing, I just want to go to bed, I’m tired,” you whispered. but luigi was having none of that,

“baby, you’re the one who said we should communicate better. what’s wrong? everyone was so happy to meet you tonight.” he pleaded with you.

“you dropped my hand.” you plainly stated, as luigi looked at you dumbfounded and confused.

his mouth agape, truly questioning what you meant by that.

“you dropped my fucking hand, what am I supposed to do with that?” you raised your voice, noticing the anger take over.

“I didn’t even fucking notice, what are you even talking about?” luigi matched your tone.

“I don’t even know any of these people. They’re all strangers, they’re all older than me, I feel so out of place! you know how bad my anxiety gets!” rushing to explain your anger but it just makes you feel worse.

luigi rolls his eyes, “I was catching up with my friends! you’re literally saying I dropped your hand. like what does that even mean? I don’t even remember the moment. god forbid I don’t pay attention to you for two seconds!” his tone and aggression shocked you. the last sentence is what made you go quiet. your face dropped, and you silently walk into the bathroom to take your makeup off.

lu regrets what it said as soon as it left his mouth. this is why he doesn’t like to be angry in front of you, regrettable things are said. he genuinely wants to help you during times of stress, but he doesn’t fully understand what goes on in your brain. he couldn’t tell that you were so upset over a small gesture.

as you leave the bathroom, getting ready for bed, you sigh, feeling a bit silly about overreacting. your feelings were valid, but the aftermath of a sudden argument makes you feel dizzy. you know that deep down he cares for you, but occasionally he doesn’t fully understand the extent of your anxieties. luigi was already falling asleep, so you lightly got into bed, not wanting to wake him.

the bed shifts as luigi turns over to face you, putting his hand on your waist. “this okay baby?”. you sighed and nodded yes.

rubbing his hands across your waist and your stomach, he begins to apologize, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or scared. I try to pick up on signals, but I can’t always read you that well. I’ll always be there to hold your hand,”

you hummed and placed your arm on his bicep, moments like these remind you why you love him so much. even during overwhelming situations, or not entirely understanding your reasoning, he still comes around, eventually.

“I love you, lu. I just get so overwhelmed and sometimes frazzled, sometimes my mind is like a car alarm that goes off for no reason, if that makes sense,” you explain, giggling. your laughs due to how silly it sounds out loud, but it’s true.

he smiles softly, trying to make sense of your analogy. “I see what you’re saying. sometimes I feel like a car that has no engine, I just shut off completely.” says jokingly, trying to make you smile.

you giggle, nudging your head into his chest, with his warmth enveloping you. “I think we both need to communicate more, amore,” he says softly, you know he’s joking, but there’s the truth behind it.

you felt him pull you closer, “I love you forever, my love. now get some rest” he softly says and presses a kiss on your forehead.

as you fall into a deep slumber, you feel so loved and appreciated by lu.

[puckinghischier]

What do you think Quinn would do for a grand gesture when he was missing his girl?

seeing as he’s a sentimental sort, considering the gift he gave luke, i know he’d do something so over the top in the best way.

he’d already have bought you every long distance gadget in existence. the bracelets that vibrate when you touch them to let the other person know you’re thinking of them. the smart fridge he can leave notes from his phone on for you to wake up to in the morning. the lamp that glows a certain color when the other person misses you. the iphone widget he can draw pictures of flowers on before the real thing is delivered to your door.

he’d make sure he had every opportunity to make sure you knew he was thinking about you, even when he’s busy and on the road. sometimes a message or a vibration from a bracelet is all he had time for, but it was enough for you.

for him? nothing could ever replace being in your presence. he needed to see you, touch you, hear your voice. this past season had been rough. being away from you for so long, he was miserable. he found himself being distracted by thoughts of when he could get back home to you during practice or while warming up for a game. he was rushing post game media so he could call you before you fell asleep. he was skipping team bonding to facetime you and catch up on your day.

so, he started putting a plan into motion. he hoped it wouldn’t scare you off or freak you out, but he was too deep into it now to back out.

you had noticed he’d been spending a lot of time on the phone with his agent lately, assuming it was some negotiation for a brand or sponsorship. you knew it couldn’t have anything to do with his spot on the canucks, both the team and quinn loving the other too much to part ways.

but he started acting weird. he started being jumpy when you’d ask him about his conversations with his agent, curious as to what’s taking up so much of his time lately.

“just contract stuff. you know, i have to renew it soon and there’s all kinds of stuff that goes into that. brad’s just trying to get me the best bang for my buck,” he’d nervously chuckle, changing the subject quickly.

you were cleaning up the kitchen one day after making lunch, quinn having had to go to the rink for some kind of business meeting, he told you. you hear the door open and his keys fall into the bowl on the dining room table, a soft call of your name ringing through the space.

he walks into the kitchen to find you finishing up the last few dishes, making small talk until you’re finished and join him over at the end of the long island.

“whatcha got there, q?” you question curiously, noticing how he hasn’t let go of the paper once since walking through the door.

“oh, this? well, we need to talk about it, actually.” his nervous tone makes you nervous, worried about what’s on the piece of official looking paper.

“okay…” you trail off, not enjoying the nervous energy engulfing the room.

he clears his throat, running his fingers along the edges of the paper repeatedly, forcing himself to keep looking you in the eyes.

“so, you know how i bought you all those things to let you know i’m thinking of you when i’m not on the road? the bracelet, the lamp, the new fridge, the flowers and notes?” he lists off all the heartfelt things he’s given you over the course of your relationship, a smile taking over your face as you nod at him.

the smile on your face gives him a bit more confidence, more sure of his decision than he was just a few moments ago.

“okay, well, i can’t do that anymore. those bracelets? the lamp? the messages on the fridge? they’re not enough. they’re not cutting it anymore.”

your heart sinks. what does he mean it’s not enough? if it’s enough for you, why isn’t it enough for him? he’s the one that’s gone all the time. you’re the one who has to stay here and wait for him to come back. is this paper a new lease? is he kicking you out? breaking up with you?

you take a step back from him, your head filling with all kinds of negative thoughts as to what’s on that paper in his hand.

“quinn, i-i don’t understand. what do you mean-“

“please, just let me finish. i need to get this out and then you can ask me all the questions you want. and yell at me, if you feel the need,” he interrupts you, putting a hand up in between the two of you.

your mouth snaps shut, tears threatening to spill any second.

“like i said, the superficial stuff just isn’t enough anymore. if i can’t have you with me all the time, i don’t know if i can keep doing this. all of this. it’s killing me. i know it’s my fault i’m gone, but my god i miss you so much it hurts me,” he continues his speech, not picking up on the shake in your hands.

“quinn, you don’t have to do this. we can…figure something else out. i miss you too when you’re gone. so much,” your shaky voice tries to reason with him, not wanting to hear him say the words out loud.

he holds a hand up to silence you, effectively stopping your words.

“my mind’s already made up. already signed my name and everything, even if brad did think i was crazy,” quinn keeps going, confusing you even more.

what did his agent have to do with him breaking up with you and kicking you off of the lease you just signed together?

you don’t have time to ask him, because he lays the paper in front of you, sliding it towards you. “here, just read it for yourself.”

you pick up the thick paper, noting the canucks emblem stamped into the top of the document, your eyes falling to the long paragraphs taking up the majority of the page.

there’s one section that’s highlighted, marked to stand out specifically for your eyes.

“the canucks organization, in agreement with quintin j. hughes, hereby provides transportation, accommodations, and admission to 10 (ten) away games of his choice during regular season hockey, and every meeting of post-season playoffs if necessary, to one person of his choice, contingent of his reporting to canucks sponsored activities such as: games, practice, training camps….”

it takes your brain a few moments to catch up to what you’re reading.

he…rewrote his contract for you. he, somehow, convinced an entire organization to write into his contract a clause to be able to take you with him to games during the season. you look up at him, his nervous stare meeting your eyes.

you start laughing.

quinn was nervous for a lot of things. he was worried you’d freak out and say he was crazy for this. he was worried you’d be mad at him and tell him you didn’t want to go on road trips with him. he didn’t know if you’d cry or jump with joy or walk out on him.

but he never expected you to laugh at him.

you can’t control your laughter. you try, but it just keeps coming, every attempt at containing it only making you laugh harder.

“i don’t understand. what’s so funny here?” quinn manages the courage to ask, voice shaky and embarrassed.

you manage to calm your fit enough to gain a fraction of decorum back, taking a few deep breaths before responding.

“quinn, i thought you were breaking up with me.”

quinn’s eyes widen, not expecting the words out of your mouth at all.

“no, i- why would you think that?” he rushes out, walking towards you.

you wipe the tears from your eyes, trying to calm yourself even further.

“well, i don’t know. the way you worded it had me convinced you were bringing me a new lease you’d signed without my name on it or something. thought you were kicking me out,” you chuckle only slightly at the end of your explanation.

quinn grabs your face in his calloused hands, gently forcing you to look at him.

“i hope you know, i would never break up with you. not by kicking you out of the apartment, much less. if anything you’d be the one kicking me out.”

“well i sure hope not. according to your contract, we have eight more years of roadies in our future. think those accommodations would be real awkward if you kicked me out. wonder if petey would let me bunk with him?”

[vigilantesyth]

Think about if talia decided since Bruce adopted children they were her children now too. Ra loans everytime he has to update the family registry from Bruce's side.

So talia and dick hate each other. But when dick was in school and got sick, Bruce couldn't come, and alfred couldn't come at this point. talia was pregnant, like 6 months in ans in America, for some random craving. Dick had them call her. He wasn't sure the number he had for her was still working but it was.

Nurses:good after noon is this Richard Grayson Wayne's mother

Talia: ...yes...

Nurse: he is sick,we are asking you to pick him up since there are no other person available.

Talia: okay...

Talia shows up in her car and shocks Dick with her very pregnant belly and the two go to the hospital and them back to the manor were she took care of him until alfred came. Who convinced her to stay, until Bruce came and found out she was pregnant and tried to hide it from him. Before they started yelling at each other. Talia heard a cry and ran up to thr boys room and Dick looked he'd in the eyes and started sobbing. Bruce followed and the two cared for dick for a week.

.

With Barbara, talia used to spar alot, so when she lost her ability to use her legs talia, almost killed joker. She would have too but decided against it upon the girls wishes.

It was hard at first with she not wanting to do anything for days or not eating or sleeping. Burce didn't know what to do, the commissioner was in the same ball part. All they could do was support her and try to get her to do basic things. Even when she screamed at them for her having to use a wheel chair.

Talia came and sat down with her in a room and nobody knows what happened. They just know Barbara was crying in her arms when they went back in clinging to her clothes. Sometimes talia would walk with her and they didn't stop sparing no. After Barbara discovered she liked computers, they had spars by hacking each other nobody was going to give in even now thier are codes and viruses they are trying to de code every time they do they put a mark on a score board. Rules are

1. Not alowed to ask for outside help.

2. You must do the work with your own hands

3. Talk when it's too hard

4. Think about what would joker not do.

5.have fun.

.

Jason had always known he had Bruce and a mother he also knows his elder brother hates thier mother, loves her aswell but hates her. He knows he has another sibling because he's seen the baby that gets dropped off with gifts.

One day when alone at home with the baby, talia comes buy and sees him in the kitchen trying to make something to eat and fail.

Talia teaches him how to cook something simple and now the make meals together when ever she visits. Making dick come by more. One day he asked her

J:mom.

T:yes

J:dad and dick are fighting and I think it's because of me

T: ....why would you think that

J: I think it's because I'm robin

T:no dear, your dad is just bad at talking to people and your brother got it from him, he just hides it by being happy most of the time. When I first met him he was an angry boy and he still is.

Talia made and stayed for dinner forcing much to Alfred's joy Bruce and Dick to talk or so help her she would have them sleep in the dog house. While Bruce tried to argue she can't do that in his house. Dick knew better than to fight her because well she wad his mother. Talia slept in Bruce's room and he slept in a guest room and in the morning he got burnt food dick and Jason and alfred found this to be peak entertainment and if baby dami laughed nobody was upset this continues for 2 months then Bruce apologised. Bruce learned his wife could be more stubborn than him.

.

Cas shows up one day? Yea but talia immediately noticed when she walked in that there was a girl in the house. She went into the kitchen and looked at the ceiling.

T:girl get down and greet your little brother then call down the rest of who is here

Cass is shocked and did as told the boys rushed down the stairs when talia makes a mark on the black board to day she un did 4 viruses. Dick picked up baby damian and cas just watched like a cat how the daughter of ra blended so well within the world of the Wayne's. But didn't even try to go into the bat

When she and cass really bonded was when she had a nightmare, of her dad. She loves her dad. She understood why he did what he did but he also hurt her by doing it. She understood he loves her but it hurt so much in the end. She found herself sitting beside talia as she fed Damain.

T: I understand

C:[you wrong] she was still learning to sign

T:I do , my father isn't just like yours but they are similar.

C: [how?]

T:he does things that hurt me and damian I leave when it hurts my baby. He knows I leave because it will hurt my baby. I understand why he feels like he needs to do this, for the most part but it still hurts me. But it's hard to hate him when I love him too.

C:[...]

In the end Cassandra cried in talias side and talia ran her hand through her hair. Now w

Cassandra has a baba[Bruce] , a daddy, and a mama.

.

Tim was a surprise... talia had taken Damain into hiding in the aftermath of jasons death.not being able to let her son go she takes his body with an angry split with Bruce. It takes a few years until she came back there was a spoiler and a Robin.

Tim was injured at titans tower by Jason when talia showed up with a spoon in her hand and smcked the taller boy in the back of his head before scolding him in Arab for hurting his little brother.

She turned to Tim and sighed. "I'll see you at dinner. You will be at dinner."

She left no room for argument and Jason was pouting. Dick ws in the plane because she picked him up to watch his tolder brother while she wrongled her zombie son from hurting her Sleep deprived son.

T:"y-"

Talia :"I'm not asking I'm telling get your stuff and get in the plan before I hit you next"

Tim had never moved faster. He went into the plane and saw a baby in dicks lap and he looked at Tim and laughed

D:dami that's your older brother Tim say hi tim

Dami: hi Tim.

D:*squeals*

Tim flabbergasted sits down, Jason gets red in by his hair and the plan takes off. To Gotham.

D:"mom~¡!~¡! JASON HIT TIM AGAIN"

J:" you rat! Mom he's lying!!!!!!@!"

Tim:*confused boy blinking* "he...hit me"

J:"they are!!! Lying"

Talia:"If I hear anyone hitting anyone so help me god I'll turn this whole plane around!"

J:leans over to time with a glare and whispers "snitches get stitches"

Tim: I understand it now. "MAMA!"

Jason is yelled at for thr rest of the ride much to Tim's pleasure he grinned. Dick looked proud.

.

Her bonding with steph happened naturally, it didn't have an event it kinda just happened. They liked to watch t.v together and talia likes waffles surprising and steph didn't mind sharing.but now they have waffle day when ever talia gets to visit. (I'm lazy I've been wring this for 2 days I think I relapsing on bad eating habits)

.

Duke just needed a mom when he needed a mom. Someone to cry and talk to someone to hug him and tell him he's enough after all these years talia got pretty good at it too.

[signanothername]

As someone with little to no empathy because of autism, I can vouch that it does it hurt when you upset someone you love because of the lack of empathy.

The thing about a lack of empathy is that you cannot relate to or understand or connect to *other* people's emotions but you do have your own emotions to go off of. It's like a bubble where nothing can go in or out emotion wise and you are stuck with your own tilted view that you distinctly know doesn't encompass everything but it's the best you have.

The closest you can get is an approximation of someone's pain when you hold it up to your own, comparing the physical reactions and trying to think of when you did those things and the feelings attached to them.

It doesn't always work because you don't know when you are *missing* an emotion, something that wasn't present in you to start with or it's an atypical expression of an emotion that the general populace doesn't experience. So with no internal knowledge and faulty data you turn to research about it so maybe you can at least know what not to do to hurt someone even if you don't know why.

You do all of this because you love this person and care about them enough to try and parse through an emotional language you don't even know the alphabet for.

So it hurts and it's frustrating when you mess up and upset them anyway even when you are trying desperately not too. Sometimes you don't even know what happened immediately and that's the worst part.

You don't know how to fix it and comforting doesn't come naturally because you can't connect emotionally like that. So you do your best, you do things that help you and you do the things that you read about that helps while doubting it's effectiveness without the correct emotional display behind it.

But you try and that's the important part.

I know how it feels to watch your loved one go to others for comfort, not out of malice for you, but simply because you can't give them what they need at that moment. No matter how much you want too. (It seemed like killer tried to maybe fix his mistake but it wasn't helping color calm down so he had to let the others take over)

With an added layer of turbo dissociation and not in tune with his own emotional displays or behaviors. I'm sure killer has to get really analytical about it and given his penchant for research and high intelligence, I'm sure it's even more frustrating for him to hurt color when he has gone through all of the things not to do and he should have been watching colors body language and all that but he slipped up because he got too comfortable around color and wasn't paying attention (a product of being around someone you love) mistakes happen and situations pop up that you weren't even beginning to prepare for yet (you can't prepare for everything).

But yeah sorry for the ramble and these are my own personal experiences and I wanted to say something because I have been in killers exact situation and he has become even more baby to me.

(I like to think that when color isn't as upset anymore killer wanders in and puts a cat in his lap without saying anything and curls up next to his feet on the ground and does his weird purr equivalent bone rattle thing because he knows cats help him and he knows purrs help calm down skeletons so he does his best)

Fun fact about me: I have little to no empathy as well

I simply don't mention it

The problem with the stigma around empathy is the false view that you have to have empathy to be even remotely capable of doing good things, which is absolute bullshit, empathy is morally neutral, someone who has empathy can be an absolute asshole and someone with zero empathy can be kind

It's actions that matter not thoughts or what you feel or lack thereof

Killer lacks the understanding of what Color truly needs emotionally, but it doesn't mean that Killer enjoys hurting Color, it just means that he ends up lost on what to do to make it better, and when he tries to do what he knows best (acting on what his mind says than heart) it doesn't work at times cause it's not what Color is in need of at that critical moment

That's where love comes in

Color fully understands this, but he has some social needs that Killer can't provide at the moment, he needs to be held close and to have someone reassure him, and Killer simply can't provide that, and Color does not hold it against Killer in any way, and that's how deep their love for each other is

Killer of course, does try to fix it the best he can, the only way he knows how is by what he observes of Color, what Color likes and what might put a smile on his face

And most of the time it works, others it doesn't, but Color still sees and appreciates Killer's efforts when he knows full well that being connected doesn't come naturally to Killer at all

(Also that image is honestly so adorable gbsdcbsud)

[nagaytoe]

Tres Ictus

(Latin) [noun] Three strikes

Solivan Brugmansia X Reader

Word count: 3.3k

Requests: Open

TWs/Tags: Violence, drugging, abduction, established relationship, betrayal

Note: This was inspired by some of fantasias answers from her askbox!

(Next post will probably be some Crowe angst teehee)

Solivan Brugmansia was the picture-perfect boyfriend.

He was loving, protective, and reassuring, you could always bask in the warmth of him and his words.

“I love you, Pumpkin. More than words could ever describe.” He smiled down at you, his big, strong arms wrapped securely around your waist. You couldn’t help but smile back as he gazed at you so lovingly. “I love you too, Sol.”

The two of you laid on your bed, limbs entangled, and it seemed as though you couldn’t be pried away from one another by any force on this earthly plane. He radiated a comfortable warmth on many levels; physically, emotionally, and in his gaze as well. Whenever Sol looked at you, you suddenly felt like you were the only person in existence alongside him, like you were the most precious being he ever had the fortune of laying eyes upon. You loved cuddling sessions like these, sometimes they felt far more intimate than anything else, sex included.

Sol tilted his head downwards a little, pressing a kiss to your forehead and tightening his grip on you further. “I don’t think you understand how much you mean to me… I’d do anything to ensure your happiness, Pumpkin. If I could, I would spend all my days by your side, though in my mind you never leave anyways.” His smile was radiant and made him seem like the happiest person to have ever walked earth. You could feel the love he radiated, almost as if he was transferring his very heart from his chest to yours by the simple gesture of lying this close.

“I can’t seem to stop thinking about you, your smile that never fails to brighten up my day, your contagious laugh, your gorgeous eyes…You’re the most perfect person I ever met, no other living being can compare…”

Your heart swelled at your boyfriend's words. Just how did you get so lucky? You knew some people who would kill for a boyfriend like Sol. Someone compassionate, who never leaves your side no matter how hard times may get. Someone invested in you, who surprises you with little gifts all the time. Someone who does little day-to-day things for you, even though you are perfectly capable of doing them yourself. Someone whose words always affirm you. Someone who protects you from harm, no matter what. Someone who doesn’t just love your outer shell but everything underneath as well. Someone who knows you in a way like no one else knew you before. Someone who still views you as perfect, despite all your flaws, because you are the most perfect partner for them nevertheless. All these traits made up your lovely boyfriend, Solivan Brugmansia. There was no way he was actually this perfect, was there? Usually, there was always a catch to everything seemingly perfect, though perhaps you were lucky enough to get the jackpot.

“Sol…” , you whispered, your cheeks flushing red as you hid your face in his chest. No matter how many times he told you all these sweet nothings, you would never get used to it. Probably because it didn’t feel like nothings, it felt like he carved those words out from the depths of his heart, for your ears to hear only, “You are far too sweet to me… I am so very lucky to have you with me, I can’t even begin to put it into words.”

“There is no need for that, Pumpkin, I can feel how much you love me.” Sol bowed his head down once more and pressed a sweet kiss to the crown of your hair, which conveyed everything words failed to. A warm feeling flooded your chest, and your heart felt as though it might break out of your chest, past your ribs, any moment now.

“Please do promise me this however,” you could feel Sol’s chest vibrate a little as he spoke, his grip tightening once more, as if afraid you might slip away any second were he not careful enough.

“Never leave me. Please, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if you ever left me.”

You glanced up at him, a sorrowful gleam in your eyes, being well aware of his fear of abandonment. Craning your head further up and pressing a soft kiss to his jaw, you assure him, “I won’t leave you, Sol. Not ever. How could I? I love you far too much.”

Sol was an amazing partner – most of the time.

He tended to lovebomb and was a bit overprotective, but that’s alright, he just cared a lot about you, right?

Crowe awkwardly excused himself, uncharacteristically for him, before walking back into the building of Olympeius University. Your gaze flicked up to Sol, who wrapped his arm around your waist a little too tightly the second Crowe approached the two of you in the school garden. The two of you had been standing in the garden under the shade of a tree and studying the flowers present, when Crowe had interrupted your fleeting moment of peace. You didn’t mind, having not talked to him for quite some time, though Sol felt different about this predicament. If looks could kill, your dear friend would probably already be six feet under with the way Sol was glaring daggers into his back. Nudging his side, he quickly averted his attention back to you, gaze immediately softening. “Is everything alright?”

Sol hesitated before answering, glancing back into the direction of the doors that led back into the building and were just falling shut again. “Why would it not be, Pumpkin?”

You studied his face for any sign of anger, but you could hardly read any emotions off of the stone-cold mask he put on whenever he was asked such question. “You were staring at Crowe like he had the plague.”

Your boyfriend’s gaze immediately darkened, and he muttered something under his breath which you failed to catch as he averted his gaze once more. “He is the plague…”

“I didn’t quite catch that-”

“Don’t worry about it, Pumpkin.”

You couldn’t help but frown at his words and decided not to back down for once; you needed to find out what his problem with Crowe was, “Sol, why do you dislike Crowe this much? I’ve noticed before but never thought much of it, but I would like to know, especially since he is one of my closest friends.”

Sol sighed, closing his eyes for a brief moment while gathering his thoughts.

“I just… I can’t shake the feeling that he likes you more than a friend should…”, His voice was dripping in venom as he admitted his feelings through gritted teeth.

Taken aback slightly, you had to take a moment to process your boyfriend's words.

“Are you implying that Crowe has a crush on me?” Sol nodded in response, the action almost seeming a bit too forceful as he averted his gaze.

“So what if he does, Sol?” His gaze snapped back to you the moment those words left your mouth, shock and anger brewing in his piercing red gaze.

“I’m with you, Sol. For a reason as well, might I add. If Crowe truly has a crush on me like you think, then I feel sorry for him; I really do, because I only love one guy, and that is not him. It’s you.” His stare softened in an instant.

“I’m sorry, Pumpkin, I just can’t help it… I love you way too much, and the thought of someone else stealing you from me feels like a dagger to my heart. I’m worried that you might find someone more worthy of your time…”

You shook your head at his words, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I can’t think of anyone who could ever be more worthy of my time than you, Sol. There’s no need for you to worry, alright?” Wrapping your arms around his form, you pulled him into a hug. He quickly returned the gesture, burying his face in your neck and muttering that he loves you, asking you to never abandon him. He was really overbearing at times, but there was no reason to further worry about it, was there?

Perhaps Sol wasn't that good of a boyfriend after all.

He was obsessive, jealous and possessive, so much so that sometimes it scared you.

“What the fuck was that about, Sol?”

You were enraged. Just about half an hour ago, Sol and you had been about to head back to his apartment after date night, the initial plan being that you’d sleep over at his place. You had dropped off your things at his place before going out since you didn’t want to have to carry them with you while going out.

In light of Sol having to use the restroom, you had waited outside of the building, wanting to get some fresh air and stargaze a bit. You had leaned against the cold brick wall of the building, looking up at the sky, which had been blanketed in pitch-black with specks of white scattered all over in seemingly random patterns. As you had studied the constellations in the sky, a middle-aged man had come up to you, asking for directions, and naturally, you helped him out. Unfortunately for both the man and you however, Sol had mistaken the scene for the stranger making a move on you. The moment Sol had stepped outside, he strutted up to the two of you, slithering his arm around your waist and forcefully pulling you closer to him as he snapped at the man about what his deal was.

You didn’t bother to hang up your jacket and take off your boots as Sol closed the apartment door. Unbeknownst to you, he locked the door and pocketed the key.

“That man was clearly trying to hit on you, did you not see his smug smirk?”

You walked towards his bedroom where your backpack was located, snapping back at him, “He asked me for directions!”

“Don’t you know how often that is used as an excuse to ask someone for their number?”

You scoffed, unable to believe how he was acting right now, “You’re overthinking this.”

“I am simply worried! That guy could’ve started molesting you, just like those guys back at the arcade a few months ago!”

As you were re-entering the hallway, you stilled in your movements to look at him in disbelief, your backpack slung over your shoulder. “Not every person out there is a criminal.”

“How do you know whether or not they are? One can never be too sure, you are simply way too trusting!” Sol argued and he wasn’t completely wrong. You were a trusting person, sometimes a bit too much for your own good, however, he was being unreasonable right in this moment.

“I’m not too trusting, you’re just too overbearing!”

“Overbearing?”, he repeated far too calmly, “How am I too overbearing if I end up being the one to get you out of trouble every time? It’s not that I am complaining, I would never not help you, but I would prefer if you stopped getting into those types of situations in the first place.”

The two of you barely ever argued. Sol was the perfect partner, at least he used to be. Just what was going on lately? The other day he grew irritated because you wanted to spend some time with your friends, something you hadn’t done in a long time, a while before that he punched a guy in the face for hitting on you.

This was your third strike, you can't keep on letting him get away with this type of stuff, he had to learn to accept your boundaries.

“Sol, I believe it might be better if we take a little break, at least until you learn to respect my boundaries.” It hurt to say it, but you couldn’t keep doing this, it was taking a toll on your mental health by now; Always worrying about whether your boyfriend might snap if you talk to the wrong person, then again, everyone who wasn’t Hyugo or him was the wrong person.

He stared at you in disbelief, his mouth slightly agape but no sound coming out until a few beats later, “What?”

“I can’t do this, it’s just… too much. I’m sorry, but I don’t want to have to keep stressing about who I can talk to and who I can’t talk to without you getting mad.”

“Pumpkin, Darling, I’m not mad when you talk to others,” Sol was clearly stressed out, almost a bit panicked, dread reflected in his eyes as they were locked on your every movement. “I just care about your well-being, is that so wrong?”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose with one hand, resting the other upon your hip. “There’s a difference between caring about someone and being controlling.”

“I’m not controlling, [__]. If I were controlling, I wouldn’t allow you to talk to anyone, go through your phone, tell you what to wear, but do I do any of those things? No, I don’t and why is that?” He stepped a bit closer with every instance he listed, looking at you expectantly, before answering his own question, “Because I am not controlling.”

“Sol, please don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”

He swallowed, his left eye twitching ever so slightly, as he took a deep breath. “You’re really going to break up with me over that?”

“I’m not breaking up with you, I said I need a break, some distance, not that I want to end things between us.”

“If you need distance, then I can sleep on the couch. You need a break? Take a warm bath, I’ll get it ready for you, but you won’t be breaking up with me, Pumpkin.”

You could feel yourself growing more and more agitated, why did he fail to understand the problem?

“You don’t get to decide over that.” Walking towards the door, which he was still standing in front of, you were about to make your way outside.

“A relationship consists of two people, I get as much of a say in this as you do.”

You stared at him, biting the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from lashing out at him.

“If you learn to respect my boundaries then I have no problem in continuing things as they were, but right now I simply can’t.”

Sol turned to face you, placing his right hand on the front door, effectively blocking it.

“I can work on myself, I can start memorizing all your boundaries right now, you don’t need to break up with me for that.”

You sighed deeply, closing your eyes as you did before meeting Sol’s stare again. “Please get away from the door, I want to get home while the street lanterns are still on.”

“Just stay here for the night, it’s far too dangerous to walk around outside all on your own anyways. I’ll sleep on the couch if that’s what you prefer.”

That’s it, you couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Sol, if you don’t let me leave right now, this will turn into an actual breakup.”

He froze for a moment, eyes wide as they scanned your agitated expression. Sighing, he finally stepped away from the door, walking off into another room. You reached for the doorknob, however much to your dismay, it wouldn’t budge.

“Did you lock the door?” You called out to Sol, while still trying to open the door. In your desperation, you failed to notice Sol walking up behind you, a small pill in his hand. “This isn’t funny, Sol. Open the doo-”

You were cut off by his fingers entering your mouth, causing you to gag a little. Reaching up to grab his wrist, you tried to pry away his arm, but he was far stronger than you. Panic spread throughout your body as Sol wrapped his arm around you from behind, a gesture which was once a source of comfort was now reason for terror. His right hand was still in your mouth, the other securing you in place and grabbing your jaw. Sol dropped something small on your tongue, quickly shutting your jaw with his left hand as soon as his fingers left your mouth and squeezing your nose. He wrapped his now unoccupied right hand around your shoulder as he shut off any oxygen source with his left. You struggled against him, refusing to swallow whatever he just put in your mouth.

“Please stop struggling and swallow it, [__].” His voice was ice cold, causing a shiver to run down your spine. Tears pricked in the corners of your eyes as you swallowed reluctantly.

His grip loosened a little, becoming less bruising as you greedily inhaled as much air as your lungs let you, before coughing violently.

“What the fuck was that?”

“Something to help you calm down.” He was still eerily calm. Then again, no, he wasn’t really. He only put on a calm facade; you could feel anger boiling up deep down inside of him and gushing out of every pore.

Sol led you towards the bedroom, but not without you putting up a fight. However, no matter how much you thrashed in his grasp, it was no use, he overpowered you in every way. A trait of his which you once found attractive was now the thing you dreaded most about him.

It didn’t take long for the drug to enter your system, as you could feel yourself growing dizzy and your vision fogging up.

Your boyfriend sat you down on the bed, and you could barely fight back anymore. Your limbs were growing weaker by the minute, your vision slowly fading to black.

Sol gently pushed you down and brushed your hair out of your face, the gesture way too loving, considering the situation. You muttered words incoherent to his ears as he gazed upon your nearly unconscious figure.

This couldn’t be happening, this couldn’t be your boyfriend, could it be? Was everything he told you, everything he showed you nothing but lies? Did he really manage to trick you like this, trick you into believing he was a good person, a loving partner?

He laid down next to you, pulling you into his arms and entangling his limbs with yours. You wished you could pry yourself free from his grasp, run as far away from him as humanly possible but alas, such luxury will not be granted to you.

“Don’t worry, Pumpkin, I’ll take care of you. Rest well…”

Sol bent his head down to press a soft kiss to your forehead, like he did everytime when the two of you cuddled or before you went to sleep. It made you sick to your stomach, it hurt you and tugged at your heart, ripping it out of your chest. All these loving gestures, you didn’t want them, you wanted to be at home, you wanted your old Sol back, just like how he was at the beginning of your relationship. You briefly wished you wouldn’t have gotten with him, hadn’t told him you loved him, hadn’t met him in the first place.

Perhaps you were just as much at fault as he was, you should have noticed the warning signs earlier, for in hindsight they were so very obvious, or maybe you shouldn’t have pushed him like that. This was his third strike and he wouldn't let you leave him, especially not after you promised not to.

After all, it’s what you agreed upon the moment you told him you loved him, didn’t you?

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Hello Aubrie! Goood, I love your writing so much, and I couldn't wait to send in another request!

Could I ask for Eyeless Jack and his s/o going on a date day? How it would look like and all that? (can be sfw/nsfw)

I decided to keep it just SFW this time as I was just in a fluffy vontent mood today, but you can feel free to request date night specific spicy stuff with EJ next time if you'd like :) I hope you enjoy, I'm extra tired today so my writing may be different but I had a need for EJ fluff

Your date day actually ends up being a date night with this one, as your boyfriend is nocturnal, however, he gets up a bit earlier than normal if the two of you want to spend a "day" together. Normally waking at about 6:00 pm, Jack will get up around 4:00 on a day the two of you wish to spend together. He'll spend a little while waking up, curled up in bed with you, discussing things you want to do, getting ready to go out with you, just waiting for the sun to go down more so Jack can handle being around the light (as he can't handle visibly bright light very well, hence the nocturnal part :p).

He'll make sure you get something yummy to eat for dinner, and that's usually your first spot on your date nights. The Underworld is full of restaurants that operate 24/7, so he'll take you out to eat at whichever place you'd prefer to go to, and you'll both sit and talk for a while over food. Even with the nocturnal citizens out and about, the Underworld is a lot more quiet at night, so Jack enjoys walking through it with you, enjoying the peace of it. The two of you might window shop a bit, going into any stores that catch your eye. I think if it's warm enough you two have a tradition of getting ice cream together, because there are places that serve a mix of demon and human appropriate flavors, so you can get whichever flavor you'd prefer, and EJ can get his go-to blood ice cream so he can enjoy it as well. Following that, Jack always loves taking you for another walk, this time through the forests of the Underworld. The air is nice and fresh, and the creatures running about are usually attracted to Jack, so he always gets excited by the chance to tell you what the different animals are, and because they trust him so much you can even pet them while they sit contentedly beside him.

It's not until either the sun starts coming back up or you start to get too tired that the two of you finally begin to make your way back to the mansion together. Once you get back, Jack normally prefers to enter relaxation mode with you again. You'll take a relaxing shower together, and then put on some perfectly fluffy, soft pajamas (Jack is a connoisseur of comfortable fabrics), and curl up in bed once more. Some nights you guys might put on a show in the background, or some music, or anything you're in the mood to watch and just sit, and cuddle to the background noise. However, there are also nights like tonight, when you snuggle up and read together. It always starts with both of you reading your own preferred books in silence, but then usually one of you grows more tired faster than the other (usually you, as it's generally 5:00 am by this point), and the other person will read their own book aloud for both of you. Days like these generally end with you fast asleep in Jack's arms due to your need for sleep overcoming you, and Jack will always chuckle and set his book aside, before pulling you into his chest, and finally falling asleep himself. You usually always wake before him, unless you sleep the whole day away (sometimes Jack also just refuses to let you out of his arms on purpose but shhhh it's fine, it doesn't matter), but post date day snuggles are also mandatory in this relationship, so really, date days are like two days in one because you've gotta recoup your energy from staying up so late. Even if the two of you just spend a date day curled up inside playing board games or reading, or even just silently snuggling up, Jack doesn't mind, so long as he gets to spend as much time with you as possible, anything is fine in his opinion. He's just thankful to have you there with him.

[possibilistfanfiction]

ive been in complete brainrot mode about your arcane prompts and the way you write the dynamics between cait vi and jinx. like ive just been thinking about potential scenes in this au so if its okay im just going to list down some suggestions for prompts if that’s okay?

- vi gets brought into the hospital because she spent too long in a burning building trying to rescue as many people as she could (because that’s just the kind of person she is). cait and her argue over how sometimes vi needs to put her own safety first while she treats her wounds.

(I’d actually love to read any prompts where cait just simply cares for vi emotionally/physically cause vi’s backstory too makes me froth…) i just want to put her in my pocket and keep her safe :(

- jinx/vander/vi go to the kiramman’s for that dinner party and jinx/cassandra get along super well cause they collaborate on their embarrassing childhood stories about vi and cait. a joint slay

- a cassandra pov chapter as she notices how serious cait is about vi and the little moments between them and what she thinks about vi.

- maybe a cait focused chapter about how much of an empath she is and how exhausting it is to feel so deeply and try so hard to make everything better for everyone.

Thank you so much for writing this au!

You understand these characters so well and i feel for them so much when i read your work. Your writing carries so much heart and bleeds love practically :’)

it’s been all I’ve been thinking about lately and it brightens up my day immensely when i get a notification that you’ve updated! :)

[is there anything so undoing as a daughter! anyway i tried to work most of these in in some way; cassandra pov for u :) ao3 if u want. (also cait is trans bc since this is my au there's no transphobia & i love her)]

//

caitlyn informs you that she's a girl three days before her tenth birthday. she cries, but she's calm, and tobias is first to take her into his arms and tell her that it's good, that it's lovely, that you'll both do everything you can to see her, to make sure she's seen the way she wants to be, the way she is. you hug her too, so tight, because it's one thing to have a son, to instruct, always, how to be thoughtful, and kind, and use all the privilege your last name carries to do good in the world.

your child is thoughtful, and kind, and determined — in spades — with the set of your brow and the blue of your eyes. you do love your child, without reservation.

caitlyn's lip trembles and you brush back her hair that you'll teach her how to take care of when it starts to grow long; she sniffles and you kiss her forehead. she will grow tall and elegant; you and tobias help her choose her great-grandmother's name and then change all of her records accordingly; you take her shopping for new clothes she picks excitedly, and a few years later she beams when she tries on a pretty, simple lace bra; you ask tobias to explain the medications she needs and help her, when she's small, to keep track of them, until she can do it herself; you hold her hand in recovery after each surgery, where she cries in relief and you wipe her tears with a gentle smile. each new stage of belonging brings with it an ease in her breath that you cherish. she grows to be fierce and funny and brave, and still always gentle.

you love her, and you see her — always, she has been yours; she had grown inside your body and you had held her first, the greatest pride and joy of your life.

but it's something you had never been able to prepare yourself for, in any circumstance: a daughter. she undoes you every day.

//

you first hear the name vi — a nickname, of all things, used formally — one sunny, cold afternoon during a late lunch after caitlyn had come over to shoot skeet, a rare day she'd finished work early.

she tells you about her weekend, how she'd climbed and it was sunny and brilliant and she felt strong.

'with jayce?' you ask.

she nods. 'we met some people we ended up climbing with, too,' she says, which is new. 'they were both really good, and very safe. vi,' she tells you, and her voice goes a little reverent, soft around the edges. 'and her sister,' she tacks on, almost an afterthought but not unkind, just not her focus. she clears her throat, a blush spreading across her cheeks, different from the flush that you're accustomed to when you shoot in the cold together. 'anyway,' she says, and you fight a smile behind a sip of tea, 'what did you and dad think of the opera?'

you laugh, but you're relieved too: no one will ever be good enough for her — not only because of the name she carries, one you had carried all your life too, but because she's a force no one can harm, as long as you have any say.

you don't ask more questions after this vi; you tell her about the opera, and then you shoot some more, one more round. she doesn't miss.

//

when caitlyn was born, you held her tight. all day long, people had been in and out to meet her, and she had been so calm. it's not what you or tobias had wanted, but she was the heir to the kiramman name and so her fortune was already set, far before you had cried in joy at the positive pregnancy test on the bathroom counter, tobias laughing delightedly, and far before she came into this world, with grey eyes that will turn electric blue and strong, tiny hands, clenched perpetually. she was so small and so new, and you handed her off to the nurse in the waning hours of the evening so you could sleep through the night.

not even two hours later, though, as the pain was really started to set in and tobias was dosing off in the chair next to you, the nurse had apologetically brought her back, bundled and screaming, her face splotched with red from crying.

'she won't stop,' the nurse said. 'we've tried everything, but she's keeping the other babies up. i'm sorry.'

you shook your head and took her back into your arms while she wailed as much as her little lungs would allow. you wondered about her, everything, because she was a person and there was so much to learn. you unbuttoned your gown and held her to your bare skin; she stopped crying, just like that. she latched onto your breast, easily, and ate a little, and then fell asleep, little sighs filling the room. tobias looks on in a very exhausted awe; you brought your lips to the crown of her head, the soft tuft of dark hair there that smelled so good, beyond anything you could have ever imaged: yours. she didn't fuss when he placed her in the bassinet a few minutes later; she slept all night, wanting just to be near you.

//

you're in your car, your driver regrettably apologizing as you get stuck in a typical rush hour traffic jam on the freeway, when caitlyn calls, a few weeks later.

'are you stuck in this traffic too?' you guess after she asks what you're doing, if you're free.

she groans. 'i was hoping to get home early, have time to decompress and shower before...'

she trails off, a pause you decide to let rest. she's always needed to tell you things in her own time.

'i have a date tonight,' she confesses, and you can hear the giddiness, the nervousness, through the phone.

you hum. 'oh?'

'yeah,' she says, and you stop yourself from chiding her about the informal word. 'i — she's amazing, mom. i just want it to go well.'

'well, you're a kiramman,' you remind her, the reminder thinly veiled under a tinge of encouragement in your tone. 'i'm sure you'll be quite impressive.'

she sighs; you know it's not the reassurance she wanted, but your family doesn't always have that luxury. she doesn't tell you anything else — instead you talk about the upcoming council vote on your latest bill, and how her meeting at work about funding cancer treatments went — and, of course, you don't ask.

//

tobias, always softer than you, especially with your daughter, asks after this vi on sunday. you meet caitlyn for brunch at your usual monthly spot, your mimosas already poured and cortados prepared as you sit down at your table.

'next month, just bring vi,' tobias says when he notices caitlyn's fire department sweatshirt underneath her peacoat. it's not too nice a restaurant for her jeans, boots, and a crew neck, but you are not normal patrons. he laughs when he says it, not disapproving in the slightest, a smirk on his face when you understand the implication: caitlyn had come from vi's home this morning, rather than her own apartment.

'it's serious, then?' you ask, and you try not to feel slighted that tobias seems to know far more about caitlyn's feelings, and vi's existence, than you: it's your own doing.

caitlyn fiddles with the corner of her napkin. 'yes,' she decides on, her smile small and tender, her shoulders soft. 'i'd like if you met her. i... well, i hope she'll be around for a long time.'

you suppose it was bound to happen: caitlyn is beautiful and smart and driven, talented and successful and, most importantly, good.

'we should meet her, then,' you decide.

//

caitlyn was in her first year of college the first time she brought home a girlfriend. you're sure she'd had girlfriends over before, a few of her friends throughout the years of secondary school giggling too much to just be interested in hanging out, as they say, but you hadn't prodded and she hadn't said. you'd always left that up to tobias, who still called her sprout and spent afternoons on long walks with her and the dogs, a daughter somehow easier to handle for him.

during winter holiday, even though university is just an hour away from your home, she brought home a girlfriend for winter holiday. this girl's family lived far away, and, for most, it's expensive to travel that distance, and so, ever generous, caitlyn invited her. you had agreed, if only because it was proper and you didn't want a fight before she even arrived.

the girl, for the most part, was uninteresting, if polite. caitlyn was enamored, but you trusted it would fade. she had been distinctly sad when she arrived home for summer break, informing you — tobias already knew, although he didn't have much of a clue about caitlyn's grades or extracurricular involvement — one day hunting that she and this girlfriend had broken things off. she'd not given you any real reason, just that it didn't work out, but you'd seen her frowning at the kiramman coat of arms engraved into a bullet. she'd loaded her gun, though, her favorite hunting rifle, when she spotted a hare, and shot perfectly without pause.

//

'and what is vi short for?' you ask, doing your best to not stare at the face tattoo caitlyn's very serious girlfriend has of her own nickname.

'oh, uh,' she responds, looks at cait and then rubs the back of her neck.

her hair is messy and asymmetrical, and the t-shirt she's wearing is quite nice, tucked into similarly nice slacks, and her belt matches the loafers you're absolutely sure are caitlyn's because you yourself had bought them for her for her last birthday — but there are more tattoos over the backs of her arms, disappearing under her shirt and emerging again on her neck. you do your best not to judge — and you don't judge people, especially your constituents — but vi is not just a person in your life. caitlyn, allegedly according to tobias, is in love with her, only a few months in.

'violet,' caitlyn says, squeezing her hand not-very-discreetly under the table, a degree of reverence in her voice that has tobias looking your way with his brows raised. 'but she prefers vi.'

you might think that vi is certainly not good enough in any way for your daughter, but you also won't force a name down someone's throat: you didn't do it with your own child, and you would never do it now. 'vi, then.'

she nods, thankful, and looks to caitlyn's hands to figure out which fork to use when your salads are delivered. unfortunately, for just a moment, it's endearing, and when caitlyn smiles, proudly, later on while vi talks about her work as a firefighter, detailing one of her latest calls where she was able to carry two children out of a burning apartment as it collapsed, nonchalant and humble about the whole thing, you see a sliver of what caitlyn does: someone brave, heroic, steadfast in her selflessness — a partner. vi eats four of the small desserts when they get placed on an elegant tray in the middle of the table; caitlyn just laughs.

//

when caitlyn turned twelve, she tried to run away. tobias, as you both frantically looked for her, hours before her party, had insisted it wasn't about her everyday life: her peers at school had been accepting and kind this year, even if she wasn't always good at making friends, and her teachers spoke highly of her performance and participation in classes; her puberty blockers had, so far, worked wonderfully, without any averse side effects.

it wasn't hard to find her, mostly because there are few places caitlyn loved more than the stables on your property; she was less interested in the horses than she was spending time with your hunting dogs. they had loved her for years, because she was always sneaking them bits of chicken from the kitchens, and also because she loved them: dogs can tell those sorts of things, you're sure.

you had found her, curled up in the hay loft, her eyes red rimmed from crying, snuggled up between the dogs, sniffling a little in her sleep. her party, an annual affair, was slated to begin in a few hours. but still, tobias had turned to you and led you out of the stables by the hand. caitlyn's presents, all kinds of gadgets she'd been interested in, and new books and toys, as well as a beautiful gown for the event, were abandoned in her room. 'just let her have a few more minutes,' he'd said, glancing back at her. you are in charge of so much, responsible for so many: caitlyn's childhood, while full of the pressures of her name and status, has been, in all the ways you deem most important, full — there are those who, certainly, have it much worse.

but still, you'd agreed, if only because she'd cried herself asleep.

//

vi is, among other things, a gifted rock climber and boxer, a very devoted older sister, a terrible shot — when caitlyn tries to teach her skeet, they end up laughing more than hitting any targets, which no amount of eye rolling on your part seems to dampen — and, you will admit, a loving girlfriend who seems, genuinely, to understand some part of your daughter that you never quite have.

it's caitlyn's birthday, and she will always have your last name, which means there is a party, all chandeliers and champagne, every year in the great room at your home in celebration of her birth. vi shows up on time, with jayce and viktor and mel, looking almost comfortable in a space like this, laughing at a joke mel says and elbowing jayce in the arm, holding viktor's drink while he situates his cane. she's handsome, in a suit you're sure caitlyn had helped her pick and get tailored: her broad shoulders fill out the jacket and her shirt underneath is unbuttoned just enough to look fashionable and not sloppy.

caitlyn is, every year, beautiful, and competent, and kisses vi quickly — still soft, still heavy with promises — before she says hello to her friends and then greets you and tobias with kisses to the cheek and then, less formally, hugs. the gown she wears this year is the same dark as her hair, hugs her hips, and is just on this side of elegant, and you know she'd worn it for one person, and one person only: vi's eyes never seem, truly, to stray from her, no matter how many rounds of boring conversation caitlyn has to wade through.

eventually, when the party is in full swing, you head back to the kitchens to check on the dessert course. you turn the corner and see caitlyn and vi sitting on the counter, in the corner of the kitchen, your head chef ignoring them fully other than a small smile directed in caitlyn's direction when she moans around a bite of grilled cheese, her favorite since she was small. vi takes a bite of her own sandwich, and then says, 'holy shit, cait, you weren't lying,' and caitlyn laughs, relaxed from the champagne she's had, sure, but also different from every other year you've celebrated her coming into the world.

caitlyn ducks her head when vi moves closer, so they're touching all along one side, hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder. the chef delivers a cupcake with a smile, one single candle in it, and then winks.

'happy birthday, baby,' vi says, takes out a lighter from her suit jacket, and lights the candle. caitlyn blows it out, looking younger than you remember in a long time.

//

vi's father immediately reminds you of her: his muscles fill out his dress shirt, and he's brash, laughing heartily with tobias, but a little shy at the same time, when he doesn't know whether or not it's appropriate to eat with his hands.

'it's a burger and fries,' vi's little sister says, rolling her eyes and digging into her own lunch — at a normal cafe near the water and their climbing gym, which caitlyn had insisted upon for this meeting — with no hesitation. she's... interesting, with a messy blue buzzcut and a denim jacket with neon spray paint all over it, shaky hands and big, bright eyes — she looks like vi but younger, softer, a different kind of weary: her own entity entirely. you've heard of her from caitlyn, sure, how she's fun and funny and requires a level of care that vi will always hold sacred, and also from jayce, from has spoken so highly of her studies, how creative and smart she is, how she has, in his words, the genuine potential to change the world. tobias asks after her arm; a few weeks ago she had needed some stitches, and she proudly pulls back the cuff of her jacket and shows him the neat scar. 'excellent work, dr. kiramman the original.'

it gets a laugh out of you, which both caitlyn and vi look a little surprised by, but jinx only grins.

'wanna hear about the time vi was trying to do a flip and her sweatpants ripped right off? she was ten.'

vi groans while vander lets out a hearty chuckle. 'do tell,' you encourage.

it's, perhaps, one of the easiest meals you've shared with caitlyn and vi, if only because they're so mutually mortified at the trading of embarrassing childhood stories between their families like the most precious currency.

'i have to say,' you decide as you're picking up the bill, and then point your last fry at jinx, 'i like her.'

she gives a triumphant ha! to both caitlyn and vi, and then shoots a finger gun in your direction, grinning.

//

caitlyn calls tobias, crying, in the middle of the night. he puts the phone on speaker, because you'd woken too, and because your heart had skipped a beat the moment he answered and you heard caitlyn's sniffle. she tells you that vi was in a building when it collapsed, that they were able to get her out but it took too long, and she's hurt, and unconscious, and just getting to the ER now. she tells you that she's picking up vi's younger sister on her way there, and she asks tobias to come in and she asks you to bring clothes and food tomorrow morning, once they know more of what's happening and how vi is doing.

you don't go back to sleep that night; you wait for any updates from tobias and schedule send emails for the morning, just to have something to do. vi might not be your favorite pick for your daughter, but she's been wholly devoted to caitlyn for two years now, and you know they're planning to put an offer in on a house soon — not subtle in her commitment, despite her best efforts.

eventually, tobias calls to tell you that vi has made it through surgery and, although they'd had to remove her spleen and stop some difficult bleeding in her liver, and despite some broken ribs and a sprained shoulder, she should be just fine. you won't admit it to anyone, but you cry a few tears of relief when you hang up; more than anything, vi makes caitlyn safe and happy, and caitlyn takes great joy in being able to offer the same in return, and you would never want that to be taken from either of them.

//

they have a fight, not soon after, only about a month. caitlyn calls you, furious, even though you're in the middle of preparing one of the most important referendums of the year; she's your daughter, so you answer.

'she's being ridiculous,' she grits into the phone. you give her a moment to gather herself, and then she continues, less aggravated, 'i know it's because she isn't good at letting people help her, and she's worked on it in therapy, i know because we've gone together too.'

you hum gently.

'she's still hurt; her ribs haven't fully healed and she just got her stitches out two weeks ago, and she still gets headaches all the time, and yet today i got home to her building shelves. with a drill and everything! and normally, like, that would be hot —' caitlyn pauses, seemingly carried away for a moment; you don't laugh, just to spare her, but you have to fight it. 'we don't need more shelves right now. i just need her to...'

when she doesn't say anything, seemingly stuck, you suggest, 'let you take care of her?'

she sighs, on the verge of tears. 'then we had an argument. but, yes, all i want to do is take care of her. she had — she had so many unkind, awful things done to her; i saw her films and scans, and — mom.'

'oh, sweetheart,' you say, accepting, understanding, for the first time, the depth of their love: the grief, the pain, the boredom and difficulty and miracle of it all. 'she's stubborn only because it can be scary, to let someone love you so completely. i know how it feels, with your father.'

she sniffles. 'i do, love her like that.'

'you'll show her. she'll let you. just talk to her.'

'do you promise?'

she sounds so young, so small; you've wrapped her up in your arms and promised things much more difficult than reconciliation between the two of them. 'yes, my dear. i promise.'

//

time moves: they have a housewarming and, although you think their brownstone is smaller than necessary, it is beautiful. jinx shows you her basement proudly, and introduces you to her boyfriend? best friend? partner? — you're not quite sure, and her rambling and his adoring laughter at it, hadn't provided any real clarification. you help set out the small finger foods they'd ordered from their favorite lebanese restaurant, and you meet so many of their collective friends. it's a happy day, with a lot of wine, and everyone is in socked feet, and caitlyn wraps her arm around vi's waist and kisses the side of her head during a quiet moment in the hall, just the two of them in their home.

they adopt a dog, a big black and white boy who they're both immediately in love with and who falls asleep with his blocky, soft head on your lap when you sit down one evening with them over the holidays to watch a movie. caitlyn adores him, sends you and tobias pictures of him on their trail runs often; they take him on climbing trips and he enjoys sleeping in the sun.

//

when caitlyn is fourteen, you sat down with her and pressed your grandfather's wedding band into her palm. 'this was, when you were small, supposed to be yours, one day.' it was thick and gold and decidedly more masculine than she'd ever want, but it was gorgeous all the same, with your family's coat of arms inscribed on the inside.

she looked a little troubled by it, sorting out her feelings: what things belong, and what things are just off. you and tobias had never asked for her to explain, only if she wanted to; she told you, years ago, who she was, and you had always believed her.

'i can hold onto it for you,' you told her, 'just in case there's ever anything you end up wanting to do with it. there's no pressure, sweetheart. just know that it's yours.'

she had let out a big breath, relaxed her shoulders from her ears. 'okay,' she told you. 'thanks, mom.'

//

vi and jinx are out of town, on some kind of trip with jinx's partner, and caitlyn hadn't been able to take enough time off of work to go with them. she's over at the house now, moping about, clearly missing the people who have now become her family too, but it's dramatic enough that it's funny.

you're not sure, it's a gamble, but you call her up to your closet. she slumps down on the bench, in running shorts and one of vi's fire department captain — a recent promotion that you think caitlyn had been more excited about than vi herself — sweatshirts; she props one knee up and rests her chin on it, then looks at you expectantly, confused but interested.

'i'm not sure if you remember,' you say, and find it easily in the back of one of your jewelry cases, 'but i thought now might be a good time to give this to you.'

her eyes get big, the same blue as yours, when you put the ring in her hand. you're certain they've both been thinking of it: marriage, everything at the heart of such a union. their love, certainly, is big enough.

'i'm not sure what size violet's ring finger is, but it should be easy to resize, if we need.'

'oh.'

'but —' you rush to say — 'if you had a ring already picked out for her, one she might like better, we can just put this away again.'

she looks away from the ring and up at you, and then she's standing, years of grace and strength, the surest, best shot you know, and hugging you. she's taller, and the crook of her sweatshirt smells very distinctly like vi's cologne and caitlyn's perfume, all at once. 'thank you,' she whispers, teary.

you have so much you could say to deflect, about the horrors of wedding planning or whether or not vi is going to take the kiramman name, but caitlyn is your daughter, and you hold her to you like she's still small, still yours.

//

you straightened the straps of the dress caitlyn had picked out, the first she's ever tried on. she took a deep breath and then raised her eyes to look in the mirror. her hair was still short, although it was growing fast, much to her relief, and her features were delicate already on their own.

caitlyn turned to hug you tight around your waist, bursting into tears. you fought them yourself, instead rubbing gentle circles along her back while she got it all out. eventually, you dried her tears and turned her around to look in the mirror again. 'you are so beautiful, my girl,' you told her, and shushed when she started crying again. 'stand with your back straight,' you instructed, 'and your chest proud. the kiramman women have always been a force, and you will be too.'

she nodded, seriously, and straightened her thin shoulders. even though her lip trembled, a smile made its way through.

//

it's an ordinary day, another lunch, sunny and bright, when they tell you.

'a girl?' you ask, just to make sure you've heard them correctly.

'well, for now, at least,' vi says, sending a wink caitlyn's way, who rolls her eyes and then laughs.

they tell you more details of the adoption that's happening sooner than you can fully wrap your head around; you and tobias the second in the family to know, just after jinx, who had only found out this morning. she was, apparently, immediately thrilled, and tobias echoes the sentiment.

'to the kiramman women who have come before,' you say, after you've hugged both of them tight and ordered a bottle of champagne, 'and to those who will lead us forward, even further.'

caitlyn rolls her eyes and the seriousness, but they're suspiciously wet, and vi wholeheartedly clinks her glass with yours.

later, vi goes to get the car and tobias is settling the bill while you and caitlyn wait outside in the sun. 'prepare for her to be your undoing,' you tell her, serious but with a mirth you can't contain.

caitlyn raises a brow. 'i haven't been that bad.'

you shrug.

'mom.'

you laugh, pat her cheek.

she smiles, so bright. you weren't sure, when she was young, if this would ever be in the cards for her, but her life is beautiful and big, a world any child would be lucky to be loved in.

you hug her again, because you can. 'you are going to be a wonderful mother.'

she's taller than you, much stronger, but she'll always be small; you hold her still. she'll always be yours.

[aphnatasha]

im putting this under a read more cuz i have so many thoughts about this in particular and i love thinking about it so so so much, its so chaotic but theres a lot of love here

ok so val befriends just about everyone. it might take her a bit if the other fo in question is a grump or distant, but she tries her best. shes basically a golden retriever, shes super sweet and friendly, and will do just about anything to make you smile. she also gets super duper excited whenever someone gets curious about something shes working on, or if theyre curious about how or why something does the thing it does. shes the most welcoming towards new fo's, and tries to include them in everything

mallie's pretty grumpy and cold towards the other fo's. its not cuz she doesnt like them, she does to an extent, its just that shes not entirely sure if she can actually trust any of them. shes a lil more trusting with val and nora, with val cuz shes one of the few humans thats even tried to get along with her and nora cuz shes the only other fae here.

winnie acts like she doesnt get along with anyone here, but she kinda does! shes actually kinda intimidated by val but shes never stated why (i personally think its cuz of how protective val is of her kids and also cuz she seems to have no fear of anything shdbbd). outside of that? shes actually a lil jealous of the magic that both mallie and val use. her own magic is already incredibly powerful, but being able to create huge thorny brambles? to seamlessly mix magic and technology? she cant help but feel kinda weak in comparison (val and mallie have been teaching her what they know and shes doing the same. they bicker a lot, but its clear to me that they enjoy being able to teach each other like this)

nora's the calm one of the group. shes friendly, gets along pretty well with everyone (especially val (with whom i high key ship with too sgjsggs)). shes a lil intimidating to new fo's but shes a total dork. shes been alive for centuries, so she knows a surprising amount of info from so many different things, and she'd be so happy to get to tell someone about whatever they want to know. shes a lil old fashioned in terms of mannerisms and slang and her accent can sometimes ve a lil strong (esecially if shes more stressed than usual or like. actually legitimately angry about something) so new fo's might have a bit of a hard time figuring out what shes going on about but she's usually more happy to explain.

as for how they all interact with me or my s/i's when everyones here? it depends shshsj. val and nora both flirt with me but also with each other a lot (i shipped them together long before i started shipping with the two of them so now thw three of us are together)

Maybe I’m just weird and crazy but does anybody else have like. A f/overse. 😭

Idk I like to imagine how they’d all interact with eachother n stuff. Like who’s jealous of who, who gets along, how they talk about me when I’m not around (with the understanding that everyone in the room is also. In love with me yk) who’s starting a brawl etc etc

Little vip room for my mains you know how it is

[nashdoesstuff]

crest RAMBLES because i’m so normal about him <- i am regular

okay so. first and foremost crest is my take on nicemare. because i don’t really like a lot of interpretations of nicemare,, that’s just my opinion, though— i don’t like them much really but i do think they have potential!! so i gave it a shot and crescent is the result of that.

here he is!! my goober ever <3

second. he and his sister [celeste] were born in around the late 1550s. no specific birthdate [yet] but they were born in that decade. crest stood by the tree as per usual, defending nim’s new form as best he could, even if it didn’t go to plan sometimes.

during the apple incident, he only ate around half of the apples on the tree before the villagers started attacking him, so a lot of them were left to roam the universe after crest fled. celeste was put into stone with a spell after crest finished killing every villager, mostly because he was scared of hurting her with the new magic that had overcome him and that was beyond his control at the time.

he was. very sick. throughout the first year of his corruption. in this multiverse the apples make their consumer feel sick and nauseous, alongside other side affects. these can last or worsen, depending on how many apples are consumed. in crest’s case, since they were around 500, he was sick for several months, staying in one universe and mourning what he presumed was the loss of his sister, and the actual loss of his mother, whom he killed accidentally. due to the fact he never consumed every apple, “passive’s” soul was not lost, and crescent still controls his own body. his corruption only controls his body when crescent is angrier or influenced by surrounding negative energy. this can be best shown through crest’s eyelight— which typically is blue and purple [this is also known as crest’s ‘neutral’ state.] when it is entirely violet, crescent is usually showing genuine, strong positive emotions, or experiencing sadness, fear, or likewise. when his eyelight is entirely blue/cyan, his corruption has the majority of the control, and crest has a lack of sympathy. fortunately, entire corruption rarely ever occurs, only in situations of anger or extreme negativity.

he travelled the multiverse young, and stood in one universe for the rest of his childhood until he decided to travel again. he stood in another universe after falling in love with someone for some 20+ years, leaving a month after said lover’s death. after that occurred, he began to live loosely, only staying in a universe for at most a week or two before departing once again. this changed in the 1800s when he found an abandoned castle and called it his home.

his sister awoke from stone in the year 2065, in which you may remember from this comic where crest recalls celeste disowning him. after this happened and celeste befriended ink, crest met killer, horror, and dust, alongside cross who joined them two years later. crest treats his boys like family, and is a father figure of sorts to them. [sound familiar?]

after celeste’s corruption, he made a truce with ink to help both of them fight her off. as time passed, however, the two became closer and closer and eventually fell in love. they married around a year into their relationship.

now, my main issue with nicemare universes is they never really put reason to nightmare’s kindness. why is it that nightmare is seen as heartless to everyone but kind only to those who know him closely?

my explanation for this is crest’s requirement for other’s suffering. his corruption requires him to feed on the suffering of other people, even if he doesn’t want it. so, he goes to universes and harms them, only because he must. due to this, people find it more difficult to trust him. however, since his boys know and trust him, they deem him as the kind-hearted guardian he is ^^

additionally, as to why he’s nice, i think he used to Not Be. like he wasn’t too kind in his childhood. he used to get into fights and didn’t socialize, blah blah. these events occurred most frequently before the age of 13 because he was just on edge due to everything that had occurred in the village and had a very difficult time seeing that others weren’t going to hurt him. but as his magic developed and he was able to better feel the intentions of others, he grew to understand other people much easier than he was able in the years prior. he managed to grow out of that “guilty until proven innocent” mindset, and made some acquaintances and even developed some feelings for boys he grew up around. 

so! some fun facts about crest:

he is an avid tea and coffee drinker. he has coffee once in the mornings, and jasmine tea twice or more a day. he drinks coffee for energy since he doesn’t sleep ^^

he is gay! he would rather watch paint dry than kiss a woman

originally, he had a lot of internalized homophobia. he was told being queer was wrong growing up, so when he found out he was he Hated Himself for it. it wasn’t until he met his first boyfriend when he realized it was okay to be gay, and even after he passed he thought his partner’s death was caused by a higher deity being angry with them for loving each other. he only stopped believing this in the mid-1900s. 

crest is autistic and has some difficulty with social cues. he runs the castle on a strict schedule, only barely changing it. he rotates between 3-4 outfits and refuses to wear anything else unless it is an occasion. he also hates velvety textures, and cannot wear any sort of fabrics/textiles on his hands without freaking out about it. this includes bandages, gloves, and fabric on his hands for a prolonged period of time. this also extends to touch— long-term hand holding or unauthorized touching makes him extremely anxious. basically, if anything is on his hands that he doesn’t want on there, he will Not like it. his special interest could be considered the multiverse.

he does like rings though! he wears five in total.

he isn’t very fond of corrupt dream/positivity guardian variants. he just. doesn’t like them. his sister scares him enough.

he has a type when it comes to love interests: artists. he loves artists of any kind— his first boyfriend was a musician, and ink’s… ink. any other crushes he had were either painters, musicians, writers, or actors.

crest does doodle on occasion, mostly in journals he uses to take notes around the multiverse. he’s been keeping journals since adulthood, and has kept all of them since. he keeps all of his journals on a bookshelf in his office, and he has a total of 200+ journals, some specialized in certain universes and others moreso as travel diaries.

he primarily listens to classical and acoustic music. he has a record player and refuses to use anything else to listen to music in his free time.

he is 5’0”.

crest is insecure about his body, particularly his goop/negativity coating. he sees it as a reminder of the worst day of his life.

yeagh i’m normal about him. anyways feel free to ask me questions about him. thumbs up emoji

[angelmichelangelo]

Any thoughts/opinions on TMNT 2007, either in comparison to other iterations or about the characters/relationships in general?

oh boy have i got some thoughts on TMNT 2007 !

straight off the bat i’d say it feels so set apart from all of the other ninja turtles movies we had/have at that point. they’re a little older (i can’t remember the canon ages but wasn’t it pretty much fanon for a long time that they were at least early 20s?) and starts their story off kinda at their end.

2007 was also supposedly a continuation of the 1990s movies. whether you want that to be solid canon or not (personally i don’t) but either way, they’re kind of in “retirement” stage of their lives with everything with shredder already happened and this is kind of just the aftermath of that.

the relationships in this movie !!!!! oh my GOD it’s just near to absolute perfection. i usually don’t always super love the classic raph/leo tension just because sometimes it feels a little overdone and can really take away the shine from other aspects of the movie, but i really do like how different it feels here.

raph is so obviously not coping with having so much of his family dynamics changed. and i think that’s why the whole aspect of the movie being set after all of their biggest most heroic adventures works well, because in a way, this movie just highlights how much their lifestyle has impacted them. imo raph struggles with having leo so far from home. he’s going through a little bit of separation anxiety, can’t regulate his emotions properly and lashes out bad.

leo obviously takes this all the wrong ways. he’s going through something too so he’s blind-sighted to the fact that raph isn’t intentionally trying to piss him off. they’re back butting heads maybe because it feels most familiar in a way that hasn’t been since leo left.

b-team in this movie is just. chefs kiss. so much to unpack here, too.

donnie who is finally being highlighted for how much he does for his family behind the scenes, normally quietly bumbling along, now here he is, trying to keep a sense of normality and feeling under appreciated!! which rightly so!! he kind of just gets this shit load of responsibility thrusted onto him when leo leaves and raph distances himself. he’s treading water in the deep end, barely afloat but rarely does he really lash out because he wants to do good, and keep peace (mostly for mikey’s sake, I would argue)

and mikey. oh mikey. easily one of my favourite interpretations of mikey in this movie. he’s kind of mellowing out and maturing in a way that i think hits leo with full force when he comes home from south america. all because he’s had to grow up and pick up the pieces left behind in the wake of their family kind of slowly crumbling apart.

they’re all hurting in this movie but mikey’s hurt is so painfully obvious and so masked when he’s putting up with a job he really hates, barely seeing much of either brother he has left because of their schedules and feels cooped up. he trips over himself with just pure glee when he sees that leo is finally home. he’s still that kid at heart, despite everything, that truly believes that his big brother can mend this. it’s a really bittersweet thing to think of him just hoping his life would fall back into place again after it being so out of sorts for so long.

TMNT 2007 isn’t a perfect movie by any means. whilst i adore the way the turtles have been written, is still falls into the trap of making don + mike background characters towards the last half, giving leo + raph the limelight once again, and sometimes leo does act a little out of sorts but i could just pin that down to him having some sort of PTSD, so it remains high in my ranks regardless.

it’s not perfect but it’s still really really good. the animation holds up pretty well. it paved the way for 2012 in regards to CGI turtles. the voice acting is something i don’t see hyped up enough. nolan north as raphael?!!! i feel like as a fandom we definitely sleep on that fact way too hard

the plot is original and fresh and it’s clear that this wasn’t just a cash grab, but a real love letter to the franchise and to the fans:) the people that made this cared for these characters and this world and it shows :)

the fight scenes are really fun and easy to follow. the leo raph rooftop scene is just incredibly done. whoever wrote that.. please always be involved in tmnt wherever you are.. honestly pure fire some of those lines

nobody feels like a caricature of themselves here, which often happens with tmnt when a new universe is introduced, just to establish their character roles. i really love the thought of them in the wake of the fight and after the dust settles and they’re trying to cope with their feelings and problems separately because they don’t know what else to do. they need a million hugs, please, i would love to see more of this that isn’t just the last ronin. show me the turtles in their 30s trying to adjust to their lives changing drastically as they’re getting older and recognising their trauma, finally. i would eat that up!

in anyone hasn’t seen TMNT 2007 (which, i’d assume most of my followers probably has) then i would absolutely recommend it !!

forever mourning the mikey centric sequel we were supposed to get before the studio shut down and forever sending wishes up that there’s someone out there with enough money and a dream to bring it to life in some way shape or form (i’ll take a comic. a mini series. anything lmao)

TMNT 2007 will always have a special place in my heart :)