#sometimes you just have to post balance content again

[emiko-matsui]

Barry, looking at their fridge: aw i love angus' drawing of this funny looking dog

Kravitz: angus doesn't draw

Taako, clenching his teeth: it's a giraffe

[tbaluver]

Hi...I love your writing so much, Big Fan >_< ♡

Can I ask about what it's like to shower with LNDS men?

Thank U

Showering With Them- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre/ tags: MDNI, 18+, suggestive content. short NSFW is right below the SFW ! (p.s sorry if this format was confusing ! just wanted to add both in this one) a/n: hihi anonnie! thank you for supporting my work i always appreciate it so much ! ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ i hope this was okay and that you enjoy reading this and my other future works ! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ i dunno but i might make a shower smut after writing these LMAO anyways gonna post another headcanon in a few hours after this (∩˃o˂∩)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier: (SFW)

More of a shower person than a bath person because there were too many times to count on how many times you saw him asleep in the bathtub.

Almost falls asleep when you massage his scalp with soap as he wraps his hands on your waist to keep balanced. It just felt too relaxing and he couldn't help but flutter his eyes closed

Has a fair share of wash products but he ends up using yours because yours smell better and it smells like you.

He loves it when you clean him, it feels such a safe and intimate space between the two of you. You hum softly as you work gently against his scalp that you lathered. He felt so safe, so warm, in the space that you two created that he eases into the relaxation.

Loves the feeling of you every time he grazes his hands over your body. Obviously he’ll make sure to wash you as well. He’ll make sure that the soap doesn’t get in your eyes. Sometimes the two of you stand and hug, enjoying each other presence, while the water pours over the two of you-until the water gets cold.

Xavier: (NSFW)

He can't help it. You'll feel his hard-on when he's pressed up behind you. Ruts into you very slowly against your ass as he wraps around you while his hand is planted on your thigh to control the lazy pace. His moans would invade your ear as shaky breaths escape your lips.

Zayne: (SFW)

Another intimate time for the two of you.

When he’s coming home from work, he’s basically putty in your hands. You didn’t need to ask twice. He would barely have any energy to eat dinner or shower. He’s so touchy when you’re helping him wash him off while he lowly murmurs in your ear ‘thank you’s’

The type of man that would admire your body as he washes you with the body soap and shampoo. He has seen your body many times and has memorized every detail of you. But each time he sees you, it's like discovering you anew again. His eyes trail down as his hands lower, lower, and lower down your body as he washes you with the body soap.

Helps you wash your back and any hard places for you to reach and you do the same for him as well.

When you offer to help him wash his hair, he leans down, and you lather it with extra soap, laughing at how cute he looks. He doesn’t mind this at all, he finds your reaction to be adorable whenever you do this.

When he washes your hair, he is always so gentle. “Close your eyes for me, my love.” He’ll say softly as his hands carefully knead shampoo into your hair before washing it all away. He'll make sure none of it goes into your eyes.

Once you both finish washing, he turns off the shower and steps out to grab your towel. You both dry each other off, making sure every drop of moisture is gone and helps you put on your robe.

Zayne: (NSFW)

One finger would be rolling on your nipple while the other hand works through your folds. His mouth would be sucking and swirling on your breasts.

He'll use the shower bench to sit and to meet your height to suck on your breasts but will also use that opportunity to let you ride him.

Rafayel: (SFW)

Takes a long shower and I’m talking hours. He most definitely hogs the water and leaves you cold behind him. Has way too much showering products than you but he’ll definitely share them with you

Jokes aside, he would not stop caressing every inch and curve of your body when he sees you glistening with the water.

Loves to wrap his arms around you from behind. He’ll trail kisses on your shoulder to your ear while whispering how cute you look  before burying his face in the crook of your neck.

Lets you try all his expensive washes and you two would experiment every shower on which is the best

Would tell you to wash him and he loves it when you wash his hair. The way your fingers scrub the shampoo and your nails massaging his scalp, felt like heaven to him. He’ll rest his head on your shoulder as you wash the suds out and he’ll have a content smile resting on his lips.

When the two of you are finished drying up, he'll make sure to pick the best moisturizer for the two of you before you both get dressed

Rafayel: (NSFW)

Round two. After you both finish having sex in bed or wherever, you’ll find him against you again all naked and wet. His arousal is more heightened in the water. He just needs his pretty girl again after the mess you made on his cock

Loves how the water slides and glistens down between your bodies

Sylus: (SFW)

The type to say, “Why waste water when we can just shower together.” And I fear he does have a point so that’s why you both shower together often.

He likes to stand behind you most of the time because this allows him to place his chin on your head as the water falls onto the both of you.

He is most definitely going to get handsy using the soapy water. He’ll moves his hand further down to rub your butt and give it a light squeeze

He loves to put the lather of soap on your nose or place a bunch on your hair just to see your reaction. He also finds it amusing to see you try to do the same with him but you can’t because of your height difference. It usually ends up in a bubble war between the two of you.

He helps dries you off first before you help him dry him off. He'll lower his head so you can ruffle the towel on his head.

When it was his turn to wash his hair, he would lean down, a smile curling on his lips as he gazed at your face while you carefully shampoo into his hair

“Sy close your eyes”

“Why would I do that when I want to stare at my pretty girl?”

Sylus: (NSFW)

You turn him on easily so showering with him feels like he has a permanent hard on. Once you step in the shower, he’ll let you get warm and wet before he starts  rubbing up on you. He just loves the feeling of your bodies pressed against each other, especially since you both are wet.

Pins you against the glass door of the shower and takes you from behind. His right hand finds your breast, squeezing them and pinching your hardening buds in the warm water while his left hand is on the plush of your ass. Sometimes he'll press you up against the wall and have your legs wrapped around him so you don't slip, just let him do all the work as he ruts into you

[the-karma-cafe]

Oh, Arthur | Arthur Morgan

(also posted on ao3 under same username)

in which arthur is desperate for an excuse for you to touch him ;(

“Oh, Arthur,” a voice called exasperatedly from the campfire.

Arthur blinked blearily, still in the early stages of waking up. Already?  He grumbled a little under his breath, not expecting to be bothered the second he exited his tent. Usually he had at least a minute to himself; perhaps he had not quite earned that this week. He rubbed an eye and glanced around.

Approaching him from his left, one hand holding a steaming cup of coffee and the other on her hip, was (Y/N). She rolled her eyes, and once she reached him, thrust out the cup towards him, its piping contents jostling about dangerously. He made a noise of surprise and took it from her, immediately balancing it in his grip. He looked down into the cup, its rich scent wafting up to meet his nose. “’S this for me?” he mumbled, voice still roughened from sleep. He coughed, clearing his throat self-consciously. The coffee swayed in the cup. 

"No." came her clipped response, like it was obvious. He scrunched up his nose, his gaze moving from the cup to her face. What crawled up her-?

Her hands were reaching up towards him, and he felt himself hold his breath. They stopped just under his face, grabbing at his collar. "What..." he breathed, his eyes tracking her movement, tucking his chin into his chest to watch. Her fingers tugged at the wrinkled fabric, unfolding it from the poor state it was in, and pulling down at it to straighten it.

She moved closer, huffing something under her breath he couldn't make out. His eyes moved back up to her, catching on that strand of hair that always fell out of her updo. His hand twitched.

"There." And suddenly she was gone, along with the warmth from the cup in his hand. He dumbly looked down at his now-empty hand, feeling ten times slower than everything around him this morning. 

"...Thanks?" 

Her laugh rang out. "You're welcome, Mr. Morgan." He looked back up at her, watching her twist and walk away from him. "Can't have you out robbin' in such a sorry state—stains the Van der Linde name!" she called out from over her shoulder.

"I suppose." he responded, more to himself, and long after she had left.

He spent a beat longer in that spot, feeling rooted to the ground. A cuff on the shoulder broke him from his trance, and he sheepishly stalked off to his horse.

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

The next day, it happened again. Then again. Then again. There was always something off about how he looked, and she would tirelessly trot over to fix it. His collar was wrinkled, his suspenders uneven, his hair messed up, his clothes dirty... it wasn’t always first thing in the morning, sometimes it was after he had returned from town or from hunting. He had barely had time to dismount his horse before she was on him, smacking dirt off his front.

“Take a quick roll in the pig sty before you came back?” she prompted, sounding a bit irritated by his state of disarray. She seemed to get more and more annoyed with him the more this went on.

He shrugged, hiding a grin as she rounded his form to brush off his back. “Gotta get low to hunt, sweetheart.” he drawled, turning towards her before she could finish brushing him off.

She scowled. “So why is it Charles always manages to come back looking fine?”

Charles huffed a laugh from the other side of his horse. She sighed, her eyes zeroing in on another spot above his chest. She reached out and brushed it off. “You’re hopeless.”

Apparently deeming him clean enough, she wandered off to speak with Hosea.

“You’ve always been unkempt, Arthur." Charles prompted, rounding Taima. "What’s with her sudden interest?”

Arthur shrugged again, hearing his smile more than feeling it. “Must’ve got sick of me.”

Charles hummed, watching Arthur stare after her.

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

Oh, he was a fool.

Arthur's reflection stared back at him: collar rumpled, one suspender off his shoulder, hair mussed. He almost scooped up dirt from the ground, but the slightest twinge of shame stopped him before he could. He shook his head, looking away. It was midday, she'd likely be busy with something else and not even notice. He forced himself to leave his tent.

He didn’t make it two steps out before being pushed right back in.

“Arthur have y’lost yer mind??” her hands were on him in an instant, righting his suspender and checking the other for good measure, fixing his collar, running her hands through his hair... he felt giddy, unable to fight the guilty smile on his face. It felt nice, to be doted on like this. The messier he was, the longer she’d have her hands on him.

“What’ve you got to smile about?!” she huffed, turning him around to face the small mirror on his table. He easily let himself be manhandled, glimpsing her contorted expression in the mirror. “It’s there for a reason!”

She moved to leave, but he caught her wrist, lightly tugging her back. He kept his hold soft. Her brow furrowed, but she allowed herself to be stopped, making his heart skip hopefully in his chest.

“I..." he smiled nervously, "I think you missed a spot.” he teased, dragging his other hand through his hair to mess it up again.

Her eyes followed this movement before snapping to his. He widened his smile, attempting to tamp down the anxious energy thrumming beneath its surface. Her gaze softened. She gently removed her wrist from his hold, watching his shoulders sag the slightest amount. It was stupid, he knew. He knew he was making a fool of himself.

“Oh, Arthur,” she sighed, a smile twisting her lips. He felt her hands in his hair, and his eyelids fluttered closed, eager to feel the scrape of her nails against his scalp. “You could’ve just asked.”

[sativaonsaturn]

astro observations about my partner’s placements

from a virgo sun’s perspective

sagittarius sun

never runs out of energy - these people wake up on ready. endless banter and wit; one of the reasons i fell in love w/ him was his mind.. i think bc sag is ruled by the 9th house their minds know no bounds, they are continually expansive. on the same note, they love to experience everything there is and especially w/ those they love. i’ve always said the quickest way to point out a sag is if they say “i don’t give a fuck” but also remember sagittarians often have solid morals/ values. there are some things they believe in and will not bend on them for anyone or anything. also such adaptable people! they don’t like to be restricted so i think it helps that they are able to just do what they need to for the moment. can be a bit reckless or clumsy, they probably have to buy a new phone all the time 😭

libra moon

(maybe my favorite moon sign 🙈) such charismatic people!! doesn’t matter the sun sign, they could charm anyone. also very adaptable bc they read the room so well. love to make the room lighter but this can be good and bad. as i’ve said in previous posts, libra in any placement will create a need for balance. so libra moons often cannot handle tension especially from the ones they care about. if you’re feeling down a libra moon will do everything they can to make you smile but if they fail, you can almost feel them move on bc they can’t handle the static. (this isn’t bc they don’t care! air signs just prefer to keep things light) also great conversationalists and very funny, their humor is for everyone.

scorpio mercury

as i’ve said in previous posts, the only ones who understand a scorpio’s depth is scorpio. scorpio mercury’s depth is much like the depth of the ocean. you will never know what they’re thinking unless they want you to. this placement (much like scorpio moon) will always decide on the best time to say something; if you’re looking to pull something out of them they will make you work for it. also very stern, in the sense that you cannot make them waver on something they’re already sure about. bc of how deep they think/ understand, they are also great conversationalists (totally part of my dream blunt rotation cause you’ll never run out of things to talk about) you’ll also never have to explain the principle of a situation to them; if you give them background w/ enough details, they already get it. also sometimes prone to overthinking esp if it’s in 12th or 8th house!

libra mars

always does their best to make sure everyone is content (again balance), very diplomatic in relationships - including romantic. will often overlook their own feelings if they feel it will disrupt the flow of things. sometimes only speak up in moments of injustice or they just feel like something’s unfair in general. pretty reasonable ppl cause they look at both sides of everything. when they are ready to check someone it’s brutal 😭 their anger is palpable when released because they hold it in most of the time. in bed they are likely to favor the doggy position (as libra rules that part of the body) and will likely slap their partner’s ass a lot 💀

capricorn venus

a true romantic! they are strict on their boundaries and will never settle (especially the more developed they are). they might stay in a relationship (platonic, romantic or otherwise) if it doesn’t serve them, but not for long. even when they do this they will not be all in because they know there will be a moment when they need to fall back completely and when it does they do so immediately, w/out remorse. when they are in love however, they are devoted because (in true Saturn fashion) in their eyes they are investing into their future. such romantics when they find the one! i mean like true lovers. they want you to meet their families, plan your future (always realistically), plan out elaborate dates, may even buy stuff they want you to wear. these natives are definitely the types give you those “be ready at 8pm, wear this” notes. also likely to wear the pants 😭 and definitely dominant in bed (likely into bdsm as well, esp if masc).

sativaonsaturn 🪐🍃

[thatdeadaquarius]

GREETINGS! How are you doing? I've been practically gobbling up your posts (there very tasty)

Ok so hear me out- I've seen a couple posts like this but imagine-

The almighty all powerful wise creator isss

✨️A literal child✨️

Thanks for hearing me out! For you ->->❤️

Baby you taking on the world aw

DAMN SORRY FOR TAKING FOREVER!! i started fics before i answered my askbox :/

Aw i fucking love child reader stuff,

Lots of isekai animes/manhwa/manga do it and i eat that shit up everytime-

I also deeply appreciate when its not done creepily, like being turned 8 again, and having crushes on others who are... yknow, actually 8 yrs old or sm fucked up shit, like even if its 16 yr olds that doesnt make it any better, bc the protag will actually be like,, actually 20?!?!💀 the straights r wild man, i feel like it happens either way too, like its usually a male MC but thats just bc theyre more common tbh, like regardless of gender of protag 🥲

☆

Sun: Child God Reader (you/they/them)

Orbit: Short Headcanons

Stars: Mondstadt ppl bc i don't show them i love them enough

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: none known & Trigger Warnings: none known.

Please comment any I missed. /gen

Klee has recruited converted you to throwing bombs with her.

You are the only leash on that child too and the only thing standing between Jean and full head of gray hair. 💀

Kaeya doesn’t know whether he’s endlessly worried or endlessly amused that the most powerful god is currently a child

if Jean isnt freaking out over ur whereabouts, Diluc is instead, and worst case scenario, Noelle/Lisa/Albedo is in charge of you

and YES someone has to look out for you, bc ur ass will just start making a hot springs spot like ur in ur teapot or smth in dragonspine (Albedo was fascinated it stayed warm despite the weather so he let you make it/enjoy it before asking u to restore natural order lol)

(Albedo has definitely asked to study you and, unfortunately for Jean, asked u to demonstrate several powers u have)

You do work as a lucky charm for Bennett tho so he does babysit u sometimes

it mostly consists of Fischl, Benny, and Razor “adventuring” by trying to do smth like who can jump on the Anemo slimes and ride them around longest

(the answer is you btw, u managed to get a small fleet of them to bus you around, the teens were simultaneously terrified running around below u to catch you and also amazed)

Noelle is so happy making toddler you all the pancakes you can eat, Sucrose had to stop her from going overboard and not just listening completely to kids when it comes to food

She is now very concerned with making you a balanced diet, tho she will still make u an ungodly tall stack of pancakes every now and then <3

They kind of all equally provide for you, obv ur their god, and ur a literal cutie patootie child, they cant just leave you

(also u might like move a mountain or change the weather or smth if they don't watch you so most are a little paranoid of that too)

Lisa gets u all kinds of cute outfits, still stuff you'd like, but definitely snuck in some sumeru looking clothing lol

Fischl lends you all kinds of books to read, Bennett shows u all the cool views in the city and outside of it (when Jean lets him get away with taking u that far), and Razor…

Razor brings you to Andrius and the wolf pack for a wolf pack party and gives u all kinds of shiny trinkets he’d collected for you

Diluc/Jean/Noelle/Eula nearly had a heart attack when they found out

Amber lets you have all the piggyback rides you want lol

she even managed with her own crafting powers (and your probably editing the game code or smth) she somehow makes a reinforced glider with a small harness on the back for you to glide with her

(Venti has definitely helped for some fun flights by boosting the winds for you two)

SPEAKING OF BARBATOS

ur absolutely spoiled rotten by him (and Dvalin, and Andrius, and the wind sprites)

if this god had money he’d spend it on wine and you lol

takes u flying all the time, any time, would drop everything to go to Mondstadt wilds and use his archon form wings to take you wherever you wanna go

tries to bring u to Angel’s Share but Diluc nearly hits him on the head with a wine bottle and brings you back home after kicking Venti out and giving you grape juice (yes you get all you want, within a healthy amount)

anyway the most important part abt you being a god and child is that you can now fulfill your childhood dreams of riding a dragon whenever you want

(one way to quickly get Mondstadt citizens to trust Dvalin again was just constantly seeing him flying overhead, occasionally seeing a small child on his back also helped lol)

(neither you nor Venti tell Jean you ride Dvalin and keep it an active secret from her.)

☆

srry i took so long! i hope u liked my hot mess of writing (i think its even sloppier than usual bc of all the fic writing full sentences lately)

and if not, I'm sorrryyy 😭😭

I'm focusing on getting thru a haul of asks before getting around to posting that Eldritch AU Part 2 if anyone reads this :)

hope u guys are have a great weekend, thanks for all the birthday wishes!! :D

Safe Travels Anon,

💀♒

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily / @justinsomniachild / @nanithefuck / @questionotmystopit

@kiyomi-uchiha777

[wonderlandwalker]

Cherished Moments | Finnick Odair x Reader

THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: Finnick is trying to get you to relax and, well, it works maybe a bit too much.

Content Warnings/Tags: Mostly fluff, small injury, lovesick Finnick, grumpy!reader x sunshine!Finnick, insinuations of violence, no use of y/n

Word Count: 1.2k

Requested by Anon: I love your writing!!! What do you think a grumpy reader × sunshine finnick would be like? Love the back cat gf golden retriever bf trope haha and I feel like finnick would be obsessed with someone who was mean to everyone BUT him! Feel free to ignore if you don't feel inspired, I'll read everything you write anyway!!

A/N: Can someone pls let me know if they actually manage to find the request after I've posted them I have no clue if these are getting through. Ngl this one was a struggle for me but once I found the right idea it came pouring out. Do they even have darts in the Hunger Games universe? Well, they do now. Keep sending me requests I genuinely love doing them!!

“Come on, I know you can do it! I’ve seen you throw knives, this is pretty much the same thing, only smaller.” Finnick was trying to encourage you, but you weren’t easy to win over. 

“I’m telling you, I can’t. This is just different. The darts are so much smaller and lighter, it throws me off balance.” You were at a party in District 13, well, calling it a party would be generous. 

“Just try. I’ll help you come on. I promise it’ll be fun.” He couldn't hide his smile at your antics, but he also knew if anyone was able to convince you, it was him.

“Fine, but if something goes wrong it's on you.” You looked him in the eyes, and could see a spark of light inside them, and you wouldn't admit it, not with all the other people in the room, but it warmed your heart a little.

“It’ll be fine, what’s the worst that could happen” He asked you, and you almost scoffed at the question.

“I could hit someone, and then everyone will hate me even more than they already do”

“They don't hate you, they just don't know you the way I do.” Whenever someone would ask him what he saw in you, he would always be dumbfounded. Sure, you had a hard exterior, but when someone has gone through as much in their life as you did, were you really to blame? No, he didn't understand the question, because, to him, you were perfect. Whether you were sulking at breakfast for having to leave the bed or smiling at him because they were serving your favourite dish for dinner, he would take anything you gave him. 

“Are you telling me that you, the victor of the 70th Hunger Games, are afraid of hurting someone with a tiny dart?” He was challenging you, and it was working.

“I'm not afraid, I just don't want anything to go wrong.” The way your voice softened around him made his heart beat faster for you and sometimes, he swore you knew and were doing it on purpose.

“You won’t, just throw it straight into the board.”

Finnick is standing behind you, grinning like he’s just won some sort of lottery while he guides your arm up for you, you can feel his breath on your neck before he whispers “Come on love, do it for me.” You’ve never been able to deny him, to your own annoyance at times, so you do as he says.

The dart flies through the air, and it doesn't hit the board, but it comes relatively close. So you throw a second dart and it hits the board, but you don’t manage to score any points just yet. As you throw another one, it manages to hit the board, but only for a little while before it falls to the floor. You throw your hands up in defeat before saying “See, told you I couldn't do it.” But Finnick hasn't given up, in you, he would never give up.

“That’s nonsense, you just have to try again, be patient.” He walks over to collect your darts and hands them back to you. He steps behind you again, guiding you into the right position before speaking.

“Just close your eyes, imagine you’re throwing them at Snow.” It makes you laugh and he can feel your muscles relax. He would always feel so proud of himself when he made you laugh, he didn't mind that you don't do it often, it would only feel like so much more of an achievement.

You do as he says, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath right before you throw the dart, hitting it right in the bullseye. You throw another, hitting the bullseye again. But you miss the board with the next one when Finnick leaves a small kiss on your shoulder, and your breath hitches. You can feel his body moving from behind you, and focus to throw another dart. It’s only when you hear an exclamation of pain coming from right in front of you that you snap open your eyes, you would recognize it anywhere. In front of you was Finnick, standing right next to the board with one of his hands clutched in the other, and when you take a closer look, you can see the dart that is stuck in the back of Finnick's hand.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry are you okay.” He would never tell you this, but he doesn't even mind that it happened, seeing you being sweet on him so openly, it makes him forget anything even happened in the first place.

“I'm fine sweetheart.” there is a strain in his voice, and he knows you can hear it too from the way your brows furrow in regret. You knew he wasn't trying to be tough for you, no, you had moved past that years ago. he was trying to not make you worry, it was something he would always do no matter how much pain he was in. But you were worried, because in contrast to all those other times, this time it was your fault that he was hurt. It never phased you much when someone would get shot, it never phased you much as you heard the canons each night in the arena signalling another death, not in the way it phased other people, but this, this broke you.

“Finnick you are not fine, there is a fucking dart inside your hand and it's my fault.”

“Well, most people don’t throw a fourth dart sweetheart." He says, and he chuckles a little, but you don't hear it in your state of worry.

“I am so sorry I-” You were choking up over your guilt, and while he loved getting to see your raw emotions, this one he didn't enjoy.

“Hey, no, I'm sorry too, don't get yourself worked up over this. It's just a dart, I will be fine. Why don’t you go get me a first aid kit?” He really was fine, and he could have gotten it himself, but he knew how much you would get in your own head when you didn't have anything to do in these kinds of situations. 

Once you come back and help patch him up, he looks up at you and you catch his gaze. A smile crosses his face in a way he knows his cheeks are going to hurt.

“Why are you smiling” you ask, confused at his glee in a situation like this.

“Because I know you care about me. You don’t always show it, and you don’t have to, because moments like these I’ll cherish forever.” His eyes are sparkling as he looks into yours, he swears he could just stand here and look at you for the rest of his life. 

“Oh, would you shut up already” you tell him while swatting his hand away from your face and rolling your eyes.

“You can’t tell me to shut up, you threw a dart into my hand.” He’s still grinning like an idiot, and it's infecting you. One of the corners of your mouth lifts up, and it's subtle, but he catches it, how could he not with how intently he is watching you. You’re back to your old dynamic, but he loves it just as much.

[phantomwithbreakfast]

~ Scarred For Half A Life ~

Lets pretend it’s the 3rd of April.

FINALLY I had the courage to post chapter 12, Happy Crown.

You can read/follow the story, whatever hah. Here.

———————

Genre: Angst / Hurt And Comfort (and a little Horror)

AU — OOC (sometimes)

Trigger Warning: Emotional Distress — Violence — Graphic Content

Rating: M (due graphic content)

———————

Summary:

Danny had been captured by the GiW once again, or so he thinks. Leaving him feeling utterly helpless—vulnerable. There was nothing he could do. What will happen to him? And why again?

(Summary might change as the story goes on)

———————

The scene of the picture:

“Wait! Don’t move. I want to take a picture!” Jazz exclaimed, her voice brimming with excitement as she reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone.

Danny groaned, rolling his eyes. “Seriously? A picture? What are you, our dad?”

Jazz ignored his protest, already angling the camera toward him. “Come on, Danny, it’s your birthday. Let me have this.”

He sighed, slouching slightly. “Fine, but make it quick. And don’t expect me to smile like an idiot.”

Jazz smirked. “Oh, don’t worry. You’re already an idiot. The crown just completes the look.”

Danny couldn’t help the small grin tugging at his lips as she snapped the photo. He sat there, the gold paper crown slightly tilted on his head, the cupcake balanced carefully in both hands. His glowing green eyes betrayed a small mixture of amusement and irritation, the faintest hint of a reluctant chuckle escaping him.

“There,” Jazz said triumphantly, glancing at the picture on her phone. “Perfect. I’m definitely keeping this one.”

———————

Note to myself:

No, I didn’t draw two hands. I hate drawing hands. So I just drew one hand.

And it’s a colored sketch. I didn’t want to clean it up.

Another ‘problem’. I know what’s going to happen on this day—his birthday, in the next chapters. And now I feel guilty about what I wrote, after drawing this. Because Danny looks so innocent that I want to hug him. (He is innocent of course)

He deserves lots of love. And he doesn’t get it (from some people in my story).

I will try to post the next chapter as soon as I possibly can.

[dfortrafalgar]

Catch Up

Law x Fem Reader

You might have met your soulmate while intoxicated, making out with him in a dark broom closet. But the only thing you left with was his first name.

Warnings: MATURE CONTENT, MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED!!!, reader is meant to be over 21, bar crawl setting and responsible alcohol consumption

--

A/N- I'm still (still!) working on requests, and posting un-posted fics from my google drive in the meantime. I'm hoping to have my inbox open once again at the end of the month, or perhaps early June, now that my work/life balance is adjusting properly since starting my new job! I'm really sorry to those who have been hoping for consistent fics from me, i really wish i could write as much as i was recently but i'm still trying really hard!

[Also posted on AO3]

Chapter 1

[Next]

It was hard to convince yourself that you weren’t just the slightest bit tipsy as you kept your head lowered and channeled all of your focus into making sure your feet walked in a linear path.  How many bars had you gone to again?  Four?  Five, maybe?  Your body swayed slightly with your gait as your mind scrambled to catch up with the last drink that you had.  It was only a cocktail, as all your other drinks from your bar crawl were.  Was it mango-flavored?  What street were you even on now?  You blindly followed the two women in front of you whose voices were gleefully mocking the words you had said some hours before the sun had gone down.

“‘I’m not a lightweight, never have been!’” chided Ikkaku, eyes crinkled in a smile as she poked fun at your previous confident statement.  She tossed a glance over her shoulder where you walked only a few steps behind.

“I’m not a lightweight!  My voice isn’t even slurring yet!” you fought back, increasing your speed to keep pace with your best friends.

“And what was the last drink you had?” Nami asked, pulling her phone out of her bra to check her map.

“A mango margarita,” you confirmed.  “With a little lime wedge and a mint leaf for a garnish.  The place was called Elgia Lounge and it was on–”

“Okay, okay, you’re not drunk!  We surrender!” laughed Ikkaku.  “I’m glad you’re not, though, because this next place apparently has some of the best pineapple daiquiris in the entire city.”

Your mouth started watering immediately at the thought.  You were always a sucker for sweet cocktails, arguably some of the most dangerous drinks due to the way the tangy, sour mixers completely blocked the taste of any alcohol added.  Sometimes, it was impossible to tell if there even was alcohol in the glass, but with the way you walked, there was obviously more than enough from your previous locations.  You hadn’t quite passed the threshold into drunk territory yet, but the image of a sweet and tart pineapple daiquiri might just be the thing to completely inebriate you.

Nami stopped dead in her tracks and looked towards the congested buildings immediately to your right side, scanning the signposts in the dark and looking for a specific one.  Tucked in between two sports bars, with absolutely zero signage on the graffiti-covered door, the red-head nodded her head toward the unmarked entrance.  “This is it.”

“Nami, you’re going to get us killed,” Ikkaku murmured, eyes squinting at the door to spot any indication that this was indeed a speakeasy and not a hidden trap house.  

“Am not, I swear this is the place!”

The three of you approached the steel door, Nami confidently being the one to ring the doorbell that was attached to a small intercom system.  It took a few breathless moments of mild worry before a voice filled with static came through the speaker.

“Password?”

You and Ikkaku were both blindsided as Nami crossed her arms over her chest and loudly proclaimed, “Suck my big, fat cock.”

Another few seconds of silence followed before the lock on the door clicked open and the same voice from before spoke, “Come in.”

“What the fuck,” you muttered in shock.

“Told you it was legit!” Nami chided with a giggle.

“A place that makes you say, ‘Suck my big, fat cock,’ as a password doesn’t seem very legit to me, but I’ll take your word for it,” Ikkaku mused as she followed Nami through the door and down a flight of stairs only illuminated with blue and pink fluorescent lights.

Graffiti completely covered the entire interior of the stairwell, leaving no part of concrete untouched from colorful ink.  Even the ceiling above you was marked in elaborate, incomprehensible swirls and zags of paint of all different colors, made even more colorful in the odd lighting.  The stairwell seemed to last forever as you followed your two friends down into the underground, clutching the steel railing for dear life as your tipsy vertigo fought with your ability to walk down a flight of steps.  You finally reached the bottom to another door, this time lined with a soft, cushiony leather fabric.  Nami pulled open the door and greeted a black-clad man standing in the small room directly behind it.

“IDs,” he grumbled.  Straight to the point.

The three of you fumbled through your purses for your driver’s licenses before handing each of them over to the man for a review.  He clicked on a pocket flashlight, scanning each card, handing them back to you with a hum.  “Enjoy the night, ladies.”  His large hand pushed open another door that was hidden in the wall itself.

The room that was opened to you was unlike any of the other bars you had entered, both during your current crawl and in your entire adult life previous.  The room was cloaked in a sexy blue and pink lighting, decorative art of pin-up models framed on the walls along with retro-inspired neon signs and liquor branding.  Groups of people filled the tables nearby, laughing and drinking through the booming music that flowed freely through the space.  It was crowded, almost overwhelmingly so, but you squeezed close to Ikkaku’s back as you pushed your way through the other patrons to get to the bar.  Your hand accidentally grabbed Ikkaku’s ass as her shoulder bumped into your breast, both of you wheezing out surprised laughter.

You popped through the stream of people to the bar which was, unsurprisingly, completely filled with every seat taken.  Two men worked tirelessly behind the counter, filling shakers with liquor and mixers, bitters and juices.  A bin of assorted fruits sat open in front of patrons, allowing the bartenders to grab their garnishes quickly and decorate their glasses with expert precision before passing them off to elated, tipsy customers.  You, Nami, and Ikkaku squeezed yourselves into the far corner of the bar, between the counter and a booth of patrons.  

“At least we can stand here!  It’s a bit crowded but it’ll do for now,” the red-head yelled through the shaking stereo that sat nearby.  

One of the two bartenders waved his hand in the air to attract your attention.  Long, spikey auburn hair framed a sharp face and crooked nose.  You were confused at the angular sunglasses that covered his eyes, but paid no mind in the end.  His voice cut through the music, but was clearly worn after a long night of screaming at people because of the volume.  “What can I get for you, ladies?”

Nami handed the man her credit card, explaining that she was going to close out after one drink for each of them, which he gladly accepted and placed in a secure box by the register.  Your eyes frantically scanned the illuminated menu above the bar, the raunchy, debauched names of the signature cocktails revealing absolutely nothing about their ingredients.  

“What the hell is a ‘Fuck Me Sideways?’” you shouted towards your friends.  

The man behind the counter cackled.  “That’s a pineapple daiquiri!  It’s sour as fuck, hence the name!”

Your mind flashed back to your conversation from the street, mouth once again salivating at the thought of the tangy, delicious concoction.  “I’ll get that please!”

The man memorized your three orders and immediately got to work.  You watched idly as he nudged his coworker’s shoulder and alerted him of the order so he could help with making your drinks.  It was then that your eyes trailed to said coworker.

All sound in the room faded into a muffled nothingness as your eyes narrowed on the other bartender, pupils dilating.  Toned, tanned arms and hands were littered in elaborate, grungy tattoos, and you could tell with the way his worn t-shirt dipped below his collarbones that he had another large piece on his chest, defining his pectorals even from beneath his clothing.  His jawline was sharp, a small goatee defining his chin, black sideburns framing his perfect face as intense, golden eyes focused on his work.   His tongue poked out from his thick lips slightly, revealing a tiny glimpse of a stud pierced through the muscle, and giving his intimidating appearance a sudden adorable qualm as long, deft fingers poured shots of liquor into his metal shaker cup.

You barely noticed the fingers snapping in your face.

“Hey, Earth to Apollo!  Can you read me?” Ikkaku hollered directly in your ear, shaking you out of your trance.

You jumped in surprise, music fading back into your consciousness as the sound of Nami’s laughter brought you firmly back to reality.

“Looks like someone’s got the hots for the emo bartender over there!” sang the red-head, leaning against the wall and making a very lewd gesture with her hands.

You grumbled.  “Do not!”

“Whatever you say, princess,” Ikkaku chuckled in response.  “He is pretty cute… if you don’t make a move I might.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you growled, making your best friends roar in laughter.  A rush of blood filled your face with an embarrassed heat.  “He probably already has a partner, a guy as hot as him can’t possibly be single.”

“There’s only one way to find that out, and it’s to talk to him,” lectured Nami.  “Come on, you’re on a bar crawl, you’re drunk, you’re hot, your pants make your ass look fucking amazing.  I would look the other way if you dragged that hunk to the bathrooms.”

“Nami!  Shut up!” you screamed, thoroughly embarrassed now.  It’s not like anyone could hear your conversation amongst the intense volume of the room, but the subject matter still made you flush from your tailbone to the crown of your head.

The conversation dissipated into enthusiasm about the location, the three of you taking note of the sex-positive decor and how good the playlist was.  Every once in a while, your eyes would dart back to the raven-haired man with his eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration as he filtered a cocktail through the metal strainer and into a slim, iced glass.  He reached forward into his box of garnishes, procuring a thin lime wedge and expertly slicing it down the middle to perch it on the rim of the glass.  As you were staring at him, his eyes darted up directly meeting yours.  Your face flushed red hot with embarrassment, but before you could yank your gaze away, he flashed you a grin that had your legs quivering.  He held up the drink.  It was your’s.

You pulled away from Nami and Ikkaku who hardly noticed your movement as you approached the bar and reached between two peoples’ shoulders to grab your cocktail from the man who kept his deep, golden eyes on your form the entire time.  An elated, cold sweat ran up your spine and you flashed him as good of a smile as you could through your ceaseless embarrassment that he had caught you staring.

Once the drink was in your hands, he tossed you a wink.

You hobbled back toward Nami and Ikkaku who were already holding their own orders, sipping idly through their conversation.

“You look like you got spooked by a ghost or something!” giggled Ikkaku, squeezing your left cheek with her fingers.

“Ikka, that hot emo bartender gave her her daiquiri!” Nami replied for you, making the curly-haired girl gasp in excitement.

“Did he say anything?  Did you say anything?”  The questions rolled off of her tongue faster than your heart rate.

“He just winked at me, and smiled, I guess,” you stated through nervous breaths.  

Your best friends dragged you into the conversation that had developed in the short time you were away getting your drink, but when you tossed another glance over your shoulder, you once again locked with golden eyes that froze your feet to the ground.

—

You weren’t exactly sure how much time had passed over all, but it couldn’t have been more than an hour.  You and your friends finished your drinks, closed out your tab, and proceeded to the dance floor to burn off energy under the neon disco lights and pounding music.  You let your mind stray away from the bartender’s piercing glare while you moved your hips against Nami’s, the two of you poking fun at Ikkaku from afar as she found herself in an awkward dance with a random man who was far from her type (that is to say: not a woman).  The room was dipping slightly around you, the sweet pineapple daiquiri definitely making you tipsier than you wanted to be.  You didn’t have to pee at that moment, but you figured it would be worth a shot to sober you up even just slightly.  With a nudge against Nami’s shoulder, you pointed to the bathroom, mouthing your intentions, and waved to her as you walked toward the back of the room through the sea of happy, alcohol-fueled patrons.

The bathroom was situated behind the bar past a few rows of small booth tables, and the further you walked from the center of the lounge the more the music faded to a much more tolerable volume.  The walls remained lined with graffiti, which you trailed with your eyes as you walked, marveling at the tantalizing swirls of colors and personalized messages and names memorialized forever on the concrete.  You finally rounded the corner into the small corridor where the two single bathrooms were found, along with a single broom closet that was kept closed with a padlock.  Your feet blindly led you towards one of the bathroom doors that was cracked open.

“You know, those pants make your ass look phenomenal.”

A husky voice stopped you in your tracks.  A million thoughts rushed through your mind within an instant.  Who was talking to you?  Did you get followed to the bathroom?  Were you being watched?  Were you in danger?  Should you have brought your purse with you instead of leaving it with Nami?  Were you going to make a run for it?

Fighting against your flight, you turned around to face the voice that cut through the muffled music.

Intense, golden eyes, raven-black hair, and a sly, toothy smirk.

“Sorry if I scared you, I promise I didn’t follow you back here,” he added, his face morphing from a flirtatious, mischievous expression into a more apologetic one.  “I had to take a piss, too.”

“Oh, it’s no problem, really!” you replied, inwardly wincing at how your voice involuntarily quivered with excited anxiety.  The Hot Emo Bartender was standing in front of you.  Had he just complimented your ass?  “And, uhm, thank you!  For my ass.  I mean, for saying I look good.  Or, phenomenal, I think?”  You pinched your lips shut forcing yourself to cease your drunken rambling, but your reaction only made the man’s mouth curl into a grin as a laugh bubbled out of his throat.

“Go sober up in there, princess, then we’ll talk.  I’ll wait for you out here.”  The man ended his sentence by entering the second unoccupied bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him.

You quickly did the same.  The bathroom had the exact same aesthetic and lighting as the rest of the establishment, the mirror completely covered in graffiti and leaving little room to view your current appearance after you finished your business.  You gazed through the dried ink, fixing your hair with your fingers and pushing your boobs into place under your top, blowing an encouraging huff out of your mouth before washing your hands, drying them, and exiting the bathroom into the corridor once more.

The man had indeed waited for you, leaning nonchalantly against the wall with one leg up checking his phone.  He was tall, much taller than you, and his legs were long and skinny, complemented beautifully by his tight, bespeckled jeans.  The spots were definitely an odd aesthetic choice in your mind, but you couldn’t complain.  Somehow, they suited his vibe perfectly.  He picked his head up and looked you up and down, that charming, mischievous grin once again returning to his lips.

“Feel better?”

“Absolutely, I didn’t think you’d actually wait out here,” you confirmed.  Somehow, your voice had evened out from the anxious drunken stupor you sported before.  Maybe pissing out the alcohol did have its merits.

“Good, I wanted to talk to you but needed to see if you were too drunk first.  Those pineapple daiquiris are really something,” he explained.

You were very quickly gaining more comfort in his presence, isolated from the club beyond the corridor in the dim lighting that accentuated his cheekbones and gave him the sexiest aura you had ever seen.  You swallowed your pounding heart and returned his grin.

“Talk to me?  Out of everyone here?” you questioned, putting on your charm.

“I don’t just talk to any random bar patron,” he responded.  “In fact, I barely talk to anyone here at all.  But how could I pass up such an alluring face?”  He stepped across the corridor to you, reaching out a hand that smelled like the generic brand soap in the bathroom.  His callouses tickled the fine hairs of your cheek and chin.

“And ass?” you asked innocently, clearly enjoying the little game you two had initiated.

“And ass,” he repeated.  “Though…” his eyes trailed up and down your body from his closer angle, eating you up through your clothes.  “You’re definitely the most stunning girl I’ve ever seen, all around.”  His golden eyes met yours once more.  “You have beautiful eyes.”

He had done it now.  You were beyond flustered, convinced that your entire body was glowing red and steaming like a geyser from your anticipation and embarrassment at his tender compliments.  A part of you still wasn’t convinced that he wasn’t the type to talk up every woman at the bar, but Nami’s words from prior bounced through your skull.  You were drunk, you were hot, and damn it, your pants did make your ass look good!  You only live once, right?

With alcohol and adrenaline fueled courage you never experienced before, you closed the narrow gap between your bodies and pressed your lips against his, standing on your toes and grasping his shoulders to steady yourself.  The anxious voice in your head told you he was going to push you away, call you some horrible slur and leave you in the dust to regret every choice you made leading up to that moment.

You were very pleasantly surprised when his lanky arms looped around your waist, clutching you close to his sturdy form as he moved his lips against yours.  You weren’t an expert kisser by any means, but something about the way his mouth moved told you that he wasn’t actually used to doing this, more of a smooth-talker than a do-er.  He was reluctant to open his mouth to allocate for your tongue, instead simply pursing and unpursing his lips against yours.  The feeling made you pull away, failing to suppress the giggle that followed.

Before you had the chance to make any snide, lighthearted comment, however, a tattooed hand traveled down your arm and gripped your hand, dragging you toward the broom closet.  He fiddled with the padlock on the door without letting you go, shoving open the entrance with his shoulder and pulling you inside.  The door slammed behind you, now almost completely muffling the music blaring from within the club.  The two of you were now free from prying eyes that might wander into the corridor to use the bathroom, completely unaware of the actions taking place just one door away.

In the stark darkness of the closet, the man’s hands found the collar of your shirt and pulled it down as best as he could, encouraging you to slip your arms out and pull it over your head.  His lips pecked at your jaw, your chin, your neck, and the dip of your breast as you unhooked your bra and let it flop to the floor.  Your own hands grasped his ratty t-shirt and yanked it over his head, its loose fit making undressing his torso much easier.  Your fingers now had access to his bare skin, your breath hitching in your throat as you blindly felt around firm abdominal muscles that met a lean yet supple chest and broad shoulders.  Even through the lack of light you could tell just how attractive this man was.  A smattering of coarse hairs covered his chest and stomach, but for the most part he was well trimmed, save for the patch of hair that you felt at his naval.  You heard his breath catch in his throat as your fingers followed the dip of his pelvic bone and trailed along the belt of his jeans.

“Wait,” his airy voice muttered.  “I need to know your name.”

You laughed, divulging your information.  You felt his lips smile against the skin of your neck.

“I’m Law,” he added.

“Law…” you exhaled his name on your soft, aroused breath.  “Can you fuck me, Law?”

A low groan rumbled through Law’s throat as his hands now played at your own waistband.  “Anything for you, princess.”

[gutterfuuck]

i’m a literal whoreeee for your somno bff! mark shit. i would love some more of that if you ever get the chance!

-🎀

this is my chance, and i have gotten it!! side note: i have not thought for long on this, but i think that bff!mark would probably have braces… i don’t know, i was sitting and thinking. i do not include this headcanon here!! maybe i will incorporate that idea in future works! let me know!

cw: mdni, somno, this is just smut wow shocker, bff!mark (see other posts), this is a dark content blog! block if you are feeling uncomfortable!! i love lowk creepy highkey obsessed bff!mark…

snow white.

that’s all he could think as the moonlight illuminated your body, sleeping figure laying so peacefully on top of the covers like you were laying in a glass sarcophagus. he listened to the steady sound of your breathing, occasionally interrupted by little murmrs and gasps, shifting your thigh over your other leg in your sleep. he did this often, stayed awake longer than you when you came over to stay at his house. most times he’d just watch you as you slept, sometimes he’d slowly pull your pajama pants down to your knees and ever so carefully lift your shirt over your chest so he could fully take you in. you looked so beautiful like this, there was just something about how serene and peaceful you were when you slept.

he wanted to violate you.

you were tempting him, your soft breaths turned into low mewls as you shifted again before giving a heavy sigh, falling back into motionlessness. mark held himself above you, slowly placing his hands next to either side of your head, his knees separated as if to cage you in. he was. mark could hear his heart pulsing in his ears, could feel how his face went hot, how his dick started to throb in his boxers. he wondered what you’d do if you woke up, if you’d be scared, if you’d try to push him away… he hated how his cock twitched at the thought, he’d never want to hurt you. ever. mark’s fingers fiddled with the hem of your pants, tugging them down, down… just so he could see your bare cunt glistening, wet with your arousal. he had to bite back a moan. you’d been dreaming about something inappropriate. your wetness stuck to your pajamas, almost driving your best friend off the edge.

he’d done this before, more times than he could count on one hand but this was different. it was like you were expecting him to do this, like you wanted him to. you’d gotten wet for him before when he had slid his hand into your panties after you’d shared a night out together, holding you in his arms as he played with your clit, watching your body twitch when he circled it for too long. mark came in his pants that night, sucking your slick off of his fingers… this night was different, he hadn’t even touched you yet and you were already like this. just for him, he thought. all for him.

“you’ve been waiting, huh?” he asked softly, voice barely a whisper. he pressed his thumb between your folds, mind hazy as he searched for that little nub, flicking it with his digit when he felt it. “dreaming about me..?” he felt so selfish, so shameful. he pushed his thoughts away, they’d only make him feel worse. the constant echoing of his conscious telling him no, that this was wrong made him want to defile you even more. he straddled your legs, sitting up on his knees so he could move his hands more freely without having to lean on his other hand for balance above you. “i hope you’re dreaming of me..” he palmed himself through his clothes, he wanted to fuck you. he lifted up your shirt, pushing it up to your chin so he could grope your breasts, nipples poking at his palms. you made a sound and mark flinched, ready to roll over and pretend that he was asleep. he calmed himself when you took in a deep breath, still sleeping. still his.

mark’s cock bounced free, hard and leaking all for you. a part of him felt upset that you weren’t awake to see him, to see how much he needed you and wanted you, how badly he wanted to be yours. “m’sorry, you got me all worked up..” he sighed, leaning down to kiss you on your nose, your collar bone, your stomach… all the way down until he was face to face with your pussy, being careful not to tickle your inner thighs with his hair. he couldn’t have you waking up now. not yet, he hadn’t even started yet. he spread you open with his thumbs, eyes catching the way your clit twitched at him. his dick rested on the cool bedsheet, his hips grinding softly as to not make the bed creak, lips attacking your slick slit messily, hungrily. “don’t know how much i need this…” he hummed, tongue sliding up from your opening back to your clit, retreating into his mouth to savour you. this was fucked up, he knew it. you’d never think of doing this to him, never in a million years.

“mm, taste so good… smell so good..” he spoke as he licked you up, your thighs tensing. he sucked on your clit greedily before moving his mouth again, making out with your cunt while you slept soundly, safely. his hand wrapped around his cock, working it up and down, “n-nhg.. y/n..-“ your name felt like a prayer, golden. it rolled off his tongue perfectly, like your name belonged in his mouth. he couldn’t get enough, sucking and lapping at your juices as soon as they dribbled out, hand fondling one of your boobs. he could cum just like this, he was pretty sure he’d be able to cum from your scent alone. mark had to stop himself, unenthusiastically parting from your pretty pussy lips, licking the sides of his mouth like he had finished a meal.

mark pressed his lips against yours, tongue slivering into your mouth to meet yours. he liked kissing you, it was like you tried kissing back. your tongue would move timidly, his desperate and with purpose, hips stuttering when his tip rubbed against your tummy. you hadn’t woken up yet, hadn’t rolled in a certain way to let him know that it was time to stop before you woke up and caught him. “we’re gonna… we’re gonna do this together one day…” he huffed, trying to keep his voice low and hushed. he moved forward, crawling up the bed until your face was flush with his shaft. he rubbed the tip against your cheek, leaving a shiny line of pre on your skin. “so pretty, so, so pretty…” he trailed off, mumbling nonsense to himself about how he couldn’t help it, you were just so… tempting. in your sleep, your mouth opened with a deep sigh. you temptress. that was it, his breaking point.

all resolve flew out of the window, his thumb pulling your bottom lip down until he could see your teeth. mark had to pause, had to stop. he needed to stop, he couldn’t just lose it. but you were begging him to feel your mouth, why else would you open your mouth like that just as he was rubbing his cockhead on your cheek? obviously, you had no control over what you did in your sleep but mark thought otherwise, believed otherwise. “you’re so good to me..” he praised, leaky head resting right on your open lips. “j-just half, know you can take half…” his cock started to push past, hissing when he felt the tip of your tongue on his frenulum, involuntarily bucking his hips. he had to be careful, couldn’t risk waking you up out of your slumber. he was too far gone now, couldn’t explain this away if you did open your eyes.

“wan’ so bad… y/n, please…” and just like that, your mouth opened more, like you had heard him. you hadn’t, those were your reflexes. mark’s head tilted back, dick holding your sleepy jaw open as he started moving, slow and steady. “throat.. mh, i wanna fuck it…” he babbled, pulling his hips back and watching as his cock slid out of your wet mouth, slapping it against your forehead a few times. he really should stop, you were starting to move around. with the moment still raw in his mind, mark placed a hand on your rib, settling to jerk off onto your stomach. he cursed himself for not acting earlier, he could’ve been able to paint your face if he had. he pumped his cock urgently, small “ah-ah-ah”’s increasing in volume as he approached his orgasm, red hot pleasure coursing up his spine and making him almost choke on his moan, biting his lip hard so he didn’t make a sound, white ropes shooting out onto your stomach, pooling at your belly button. the sight of you, the way you just scrunched up your nose and relaxed again, it was enough to keep him hard and straining, even if he had just squirted pearly white all over your body.

post nut clarity hit him hard, disgust crawled into him, pinching his nose bridge in between his fingers with a shaky sigh, giving himself a second to regroup his thoughts. mark grabbed one of his shirts from the neat pile on his desk, using it to clean up the mess he had made on you. he’d cum so much that a droplet had found its way to your chin, quickly swiping it away with the cotton of his shirt. he pulled your pants up tidily before working to wipe away his cum from your skin, not noticing how your head craned to look over at him.

“…mark..?” he stopped dead in his tracks, turning his head to look at you slowly in the dark. suddenly he felt like a scumbag, dirty, like he needed to take a shower to clean himself from himself. your shirt was still pulled up, you were still exposed. “wh-what’re you doing…?” you questioned, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you waited for a response. your eyes hadn’t adjusted to the dark yet, you couldn’t see mark’s guilty expression. he had to think, fast.

“you- you were moving around.. looked like you were having a nightmare.” good. now he just needed to explain away your shirt and the fact that he was wiping you clean of something. “i went.. i got you a glass of water— uh, milk, thought it’d help if you woke up… i’m sorry, i spilled it, i-i know what this looks like..- i swear i-“ you cut him off, shaking your head at him. “you’ve always been so clumsy, marks.” you yawned, sitting up in his bed, letting your shirt fall over your naked chest as if nothing had happened. we was your best friend after all, there was nothing to hide from him. close call. very, very close call. “i believe you, i don’t know why you get so worked up.” you placed a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it comfortingly for a second. he gave a nervous laugh, he was terrible. you were so nice, so sweet… how could you accuse your best friend of something like that anyway?

he felt awful. he wanted to apologise, wanted to get on his knees and beg you to forgive him for defiling your body like that, tainting you without your knowledge or suspicion. he didn’t know why he felt so horrible, this happened all the time. rinse and repeat, he’d be back to it eventually. “sorry.” he offered, scratching the back of his neck idly to which you smiled, playfully landing a punch on his bicep, “it’s fine, dude. it’s not like you’re a creep or anything.” oh, that burned him in his chest. it swelled up, eating away at him… until he bubbled with pride. he could really get away with anything when he was with you.

“i wanted it, though.”

you spoke, making mark’s blood run cold. had you been awake? he was going to defend himself, going to apologise for lying and not telling you the truth- “my drink, you said you bought me up a drink. my throat’s dry.” saved again. he was so lucky. mark stood up from his bed, legs shaky and hands trembling. he had gotten away with it again. close call, again. you watched as he left the room, turning on the desk light before he walked downstairs, giving you a little bit of light.

as mark stepped around in the kitchen with your drink, he thought to himself, “how many close calls until she realises?” it echoed in his brain, he knew the day would come.

you placed your hand on your stomach, sly smile plastered on your face as you felt something drip down from your sternum. next time, he should really turn on the light before leaving you alone to observe his remaining mess. you swiped it up with your thumb, licking it off of the pad of your digit.

mark grayson tasted really good.

[itsaship-literally]

It’s A Ship - Literally Revisited

As many of my long-time followers and friends know…

THIS BLOG supports the POTENTIAL FUTURE of Beetlejuice and Lydia.

In the past, I have written posts about WHY we ship Beej and Lyds, specifically here on this blog, when there are so many controversies. It needed to be cleared up many times because, with every new piece of media, there comes opposition, which is totally understandable if you are not used to supernatural or horror-themed romance tropes.

I am here to help break it down for all the new fans sitting back and trying to figure out the ship's where, what, why and whens.

Here we go!

Movie verse:

Many of us were young when we met Beetlejuice and Lydia for the first time. Some latched on to and related to a young Winona Ryder. It was a vibe, and while we are well aware that in real-life terms, a teen is not ready to be involved with a 600+ ghost (cuz that’s an option 🤣), we couldn't help but find the allure in the Living Meets Death dichotomy. As you will undoubtedly see, this is a running theme in the fandom.

We had countless reunion fics featuring an older Lydia (sometimes by years, sometimes by months) reconnecting with her villain/antagonist. Many were dark fic, some light and fluffy and some off the wall chaotic, while some crossed over into the MoToon verse (yes that is a thing)

So here we are, more than 30 years later, and our pair reunited legitimately on the big screen. It was beautiful and, without giving away any spoilers since this new piece of media is still fresh, it gives us more to play with because, let’s face it, he is not done haunting her.

With this movie universe, there is still potential for this ship to thrive. (And that’s not just because Winona and Michael are down. I still am in shock over their revelations)

Toon Verse:

Yet another oldie that many grew up on. This one is a hotbed for both friend-shipping and Relation-shipping.

Here, we have a long-term bond that can be wholesome, platonic, romantic, complicated, or, on occasion, dark and twisted.

Stories have ranged from childhood crushes to outright possessiveness. The fanart from cute fluff to… well… rule 34.

Lydia is young in this cartoon. We are aware of that and in any cartoon fandom, aging up is par for the course. It is expected (and preferred by many) that any stories of romance happen in circumstances outside of the toon cannon.

Age issues aside, we cannot deny that BJ adores her. The man has an entire shrine in his head, idolizing this twisted, weird girl that, once again, many older fans related to. He would do anything for her and has proved it many times. The chaotic dead man with no shits to give will give up freedom and wealth and go against his nature to make her happy.

How can we not find the potential for a future of these two goofballs?

Musical Verse:

This universe combined the goofiness of Toon with the antagonism of the movie—a nice combo that I and those we call MusicalBabes enjoy.

Regardless of what the cast believes or feels about the shipping subject, they are working with a pair of unseen, attention-starved, chaotic nut jobs—a compliment, not disparagement.

Beetlejuice and Lydia need each other. They were miserable before they met and would have continued to be so had they not entangled themselves in the other’s existence.

Living and the dead, once again, need each other to balance their lonliness.

Does musical verse have ship potential? Hell, yes, it does. (Also, this is the only piece of media where the wedding actually went through)

Just a few Common Tropes In This Ship: (there are so many more than this)

Mayfly/December Romance (also see: May/December and Age Gap)

Reincarnation Romance

Death and the Maiden (also see: Monster and the Maiden)

Beast and Beauty

Ugly Guy, Hot Wife

Boy meets Ghoul

Why the name Beetlebabes?

Read: Beetlebabes: A History

To find more ship related content use: Beetlejuice x Lydia, Betelyds (alt. Beetlyds), Beej and Lyds, Beetle and Babes, Beetz and Deetz (or more simply Beetz) are the original ship names. BeetleBabes, MovieBabes, ToonBabes and MusicalBabes are all relatively new.

This blog often uses Beetlebabes but it’s not a hard fast rule that it will be on every post.

The goal of Its A Ship - Literally...

I created this blog many years ago (around 2016) to collect all the goodness in the fandom. Memes, art, fics, fan theories. I picked up the ship names and used them as tags. Gathered as much as I could from Tumblr posts, in all universes, and tried so hard to stay neutral amidst the internal fandom drama. (give or take a few misteps, iykyk)

The only goal I have here is to collect and share and boost all universes. Movie, Toon and Musical, including the mini verses of MoToon and Graveyard Revue if I can find it.

I do this for fun, to destress and play internet magpie with shiny beetle stuff while I stuff everything into the queue.

Lots of love to you guys. And as always, please show love to your fan creators. Credit them and boost the signals. These creators do so much hard work.

- 🪲 - 🪲 - 🪲 - 🪲 - 🪲 -

Previous Posts Like This: Because It Needs to Be Said Yet Again (2017) | One More Time (2019)

[j3110-cup]

Matthew Patel general headcanons! ^_^

(some of these are ideas from other peoples headcanons as well! I'm not claiming any of these as completely original,, I just think they're AWESOME and i wanna write them down. I'm very sorry if my headcanons seem like they're stealing from anyone, that is not my intention and if wanted I can remove anything that seems too simliar to an idea that anyones already posted.) - Matt has a hobby of painting his nails sometimes, the only colors he's been seen with are black, gray, and red. But black is the most common color he chooses, its easy and he likes black in general. - though Matthew ALSO has a hobby of chewing his nails (mostly just for stimulation purposes, he likes doing things with his hands a lot when hes bored.) so this ends up in clipped nail polish a lot of the time. - smell wise, I think he has an odd smoky scent, not like cigarette smoke or anything but just smoke in general, like burning wood. With a light hint of vanilla. - I feel like hes skilled with his fire powers yet also notttt...? like he KNOWS how to control them in a battle and hes good at it. -But also he accidently sets them off sometimes without realizing, mostly when hes feeling intense emotions or nerves. - OKAY. HEAR ME OUT ON THIS ONE. I feel like in the late 2000s, Matthew would REALLY enjoy making Youtube sketches online, you gotta understand. HE WOULD LOVE BEING A CONTENT CREATOR!! I think he would have a lot of fun with having a small 'fanbase' and being able to post his ideas online. - continuing onto that, I also think he'd have a blog. Its a half and half of him talking about his favorite productions/movies and also him complaining about random stuff. He probably would think roleplaying is fun but this might be me projecting at this point. - I think he has a hard time balancing his confidence and insecurity, like its a very MIXED bag of how he feels about himself. Sadly hes pretty easy to shut down when hes confident as well I think, since his confidence is mainly just 'fake it till you make it' except he isnt fully there yet. - Matthew likes playing around with his style sometimes, especially if someone around him gives him clothes or asks him to put something on. I think he wouldnt be too into bright colors, but he'd play around with some things on himself. Like different kinds of makeup, jewelry, etc. - I feel like he has dyslexia. I dont have anything else to add I just stole this one from my friend, but its canon in my mind. - I think he has a mix of an Indian and American accent. (this headcanon exists in my mind mainly due to the fact that in Satya's audition for Matthew in the movie he used a mix of an Indian and American accent as well and i thought it was a very nice touch.) - speaking of America, I feel like Matthew grew up in the South-West of USA, I dont have a reason for this I think its just projection again. - he's actually very close with his demon hipster chicks (I also might actually post about the demon girls soon as I also have my own hcs on them) Since I like to think he summoned them in highschool and they've kinda just stuck around since. - I think hes a decent singer, though singing is something he enjoys just both as a pastime and as a career goal, so he'd practice often. - I feel like the same thing can be said with acting in general, he enjoys practicing a lot on his acting skills, he'd probably think improv is really fun. - probably a people pleaser due to how he just acts sometimes, I dont know I just feel it in my bones. okay I'm done :P also I feel like I might need to add; my idea of Matthew in my head is mainly a mix of all four medias of him, so this isnt supposed to be about any Matthew in particular. sorry for any grammar mistakes I dont have any excuse I'm just stupid!!

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

Datura Pt 3

Summary: Trapped Under the Mountain you have to decide if it's worth keeping your enemies close.

Content Warnings: Under the Mountain is like a walking trigger warning, but mentions of torture, unnamed character death via the torture; Rhys is an ass but he's a protective ass so we'll allow it.

Author's Note: This part is loooong, needed to set up Part 4 and it made sense in my head to have these bits in one piece before we get to the *cough cough* personal training. Hope you guys enjoy! :)

(Part 1, Part 2)

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

There’s no way out.

You bash the only heavy item you can find--a paperweight, tucked into the back of a dust filled drawer--against the air duct, over and over, large chunks of stone flying in every direction, even as the reality of the situation sets in. There are no back doors, no windows, just this slim chance that maybe, maybe you can bash your way out of the rock on sheer force of will.

The paperweights thuds against the stone make your ears ache. Every blow has your shoulder feeling like it might wrench from it’s socket any second, the pain a sharp thrum with every blow, but you can’t stop, if you stop you will think about it and if you start thinking about it, you won’t make it.

The blows land over and over, sometimes you switch arms to try and give yourself a break. You haven’t slept, exhaustion making this tedious, even more so when this escape attempt requires you to balance atop a bedside table that’s seen better days. Chunks of rock fly away from the wall, dust a heavy coat over your skin, your tongue. It’s like swallowing sand.

“Come on!” You beg the wall. The paperweight shutters, bits of metal cracking, denting. You’ve broken your fingernails, torn apart your knuckles trying to get the hunk of engraved metal to push through the rock. This is your only shot, the door’s bolted from the outside, a guard posted beyond. Rhysand, that bastard, had tossed you into this empty, dust ridden room hours ago. You aren’t entirely sure where you are, the journey over here a blur, glimpsed only in flashes as you’d hung over the male’s shoulder, but that’s irrelevant. The only thing that matters now is getting out, getting free. The air duct is more of a slit, carved into the rock wall that makes up your room, barely enough room for to slide your arm into, but you have to hope it gets wider somewhere. You can’t allow yourself to think about what happens if you can’t climb your way out of the room.

The paperweight lands again and again and again, the rhythm steady, the beat not unlike the drums that had gotten you into this mess in the first place. If you lived through this, you’d never go to another Calanmai celebration again. You take all that anger you feel, the helplessness and confusion of the last twenty four hours and channel it into your arm. The wall shudders, but your elusive powers do not flare behind a few wisps of darkness over your bloody knuckles.

“Break!” You snarl like it can hear you, bend to your desperation.

A few more blows and the only thing that breaks is the paperweight, the hunk of metal cracking into three, small pieces. You stare at it as it slips from your hand, scatters across the rock floor.

You know it can’t see you, but you flash your middle fingers at it. “Useless fucking thing,” you hiss as you climb off the bedside table. The room is larger than you anticipated, a bed in the center, the table next to it with a little lamp; there’s a small bathing room with a copper tub, sink and toilet. It’s not really a cell, it’s technically bigger than your room in the farmhouse, but the locked door reminds you it’s not better by any means. The whole place is dark, carved out of rock in the heart of a mountain, as far as you could tell when they brought you in. It might have made more sense if you were upright, but there’s no use dwelling on that now. Dust covers everything, the sheets, the walls, the floor, disturbed by your footprints, and also the bed that you managed to wiggle behind and push in front of the door. The wood was heavy, it had taken all your strength to push it away from the back wall and across the room. It might not do much, but it will be enough to give anyone pause, at least you hope. It’s better than sitting around waiting for them to come back, at the very least.

You go back to the bathroom, pausing briefly to wash the blood from your hands, then slowly study the place, looking for something you missed the first time around. One door, not even a door to the bathing room to lock yourself in if necessary. No more vents. No windows. No cupboards. Very little places to hide unless you feel like hiding under the bed. You go over the space inch by inch, looking for anything else to use to help dig yourself out, but there’s nothing. Not unless a cheap bar or soap of the moth bitten sheets can be used somehow. The base of the lamp looks heavy, but then you’d be working in the dark and that’s not an option.

You’re about to break down and cry when the door opens. Unhindered, because it doesn’t swing in, it swings out, your idea to block the door absolutely useless. From the darkness of the hallway, Rhys stares at you, then the bed, the wooden frame barely up to his chest.

You flash your middle fingers at him too, teeth pulled back in a snarl. If he tries to come in here you really will rip out his throat. He’d deserve it. Bastard. How could he do this to you?

With a smirk, and the flick of Rhys’s wrist, the bed re-centers itself against the far wall. Not even an inconvenience, he’d moved it like it was no effort at all.

Shit.

“Was that supposed to be a barricade?” The door swings shut behind him, the lock clicking ominously into place in the cavernous space. He’s found a new shirt, the one he’d given you earlier stuffed in the corner where you can’t smell the scent of him any longer.

He seats himself on the edge of your bed, making himself comfortable, eyes darting briefly to the new hole in the wall. “Dare I ask?”

You cross your arms over your chest, still barring your teeth. Perhaps Calanmai had turned you into more animal than girl. “It was like that when I got here.”

“Of course,” he says with a shrug, like he knows it’s useless, that you’ll simply tire yourself out, become easier prey.

“What do you want?” You hiss. He doesn’t seem to notice the venom in your tone, the way you make sure there’s distance between the two of you.

“Can’t I be here to make sure you’re comfortable?” He counters.

“What an excellent host you make,” you snarl. “Will you bathe and tuck me in next?”

His violet gaze rakes slowly over you, assessing the bare expanse of your legs, the tattered, mud stained hem of your shift, barely covering you, the barely there straps clinging for dear life to your dirt stained shoulders. It’s intense, you know many fae would melt under it; you might have too, if things had been different, if the sight of him didn’t make you want to hurl something at his head.

“Darling, I’d lick you clean if you asked,” he says lowly.

“Does that shit usually work for you?” You snap back. He’s infuriating. How could you have kissed him?

He grins as he pushes away from the bed, eyes locked on your lips like he’s thinking about that kiss too. “I don’t usually have to resort to it, my good looks and natural charm do most of the work for me.”

“You have the charm of a viper.”

He huffs a laugh, “Cruel, wicked thing.”

His advances have you backing up, until you stumble right into the wall. The rock bites into your shoulder blades as he halts inches from you, close enough that you can feel his warm breath on your face; smell that citrus and jasmine scent of him. You should push him away, give yourself breathing room, but when he’s this close rational thought eddies from your head.

“What do you want?” You repeat, voice shakier than you intend, trying to remind yourself that you’re angry at him, that you don’t want him anywhere near you. It’s his fault you’re in here.

“Her highness wants you trained,” he says like that’s supposed to mean something to you.

All you can do is stare at him.

“She sent word to your father,” he amends. “He’ll be here in three months time.”

You’re suddenly aware of how loud your own heartbeat is.

“Is that supposed to mean something to me? He never bothered to contact me before.” You’re loosing your edge, mind spinning with all the things you could do to try and put some distance between the two of you.

“It seems your Uncle stole you away in the middle of the night,” Rhys explains. “Hybern has been looking for you since.”

“He’s done a shitty job.”

Rhys shrugs as he reaches out a hand to play with a tendril of your hair, curling it around his slender fingers. A cat playing with it’s food; he has no intention of letting you move away from the wall, trapped between the rock and his chest. “He’s eager to see you again, and Her Highness is eager to prove that you’re useful.”

“Why?” Why does Hybern suddenly care about you? Why does the red head care what you do with your powers? Why is this male touching you still and why are you letting him?

“Hybern’s an opportunist,” he says as he brushes the strand behind your ear. “His plans for Prythian might be closer to reality with the right power behind it.”

None of it makes any sense to you.

Rhys must see that on your face because he says, “Hybern made Amarantha. That might not make sense to you yet, but she is what she is because of him. She knows the best way to solidify her position within the world Hybern intends to create is to hand him a weapon already sharp enough to use.”

“So I’m to be a pawn then?”

He shrugs, the hand still against your temple drifting to brush over your cheek, like he can’t help but touch you. “Or you could also be an opportunist.”

You quirk a brow.

“Hybern might just be your only way out of here, Darling.”

“First off, don’t call me that. Second, what if I don’t?”

“You will.”

You shiver.

 “Training isn’t the choice here. The choice is whether you want to see anyone get hurt to make sure it happens.”

“What are you gonna do, torture me?” You hiss.

He brushes a thumb over your lip, violet eyes trained there like he’s thinking about how they felt against his own earlier. “You have people you care about.”

Your heart drops into your stomach.

“She’s already given me the order to find your uncle.” His fingers drift lower, until he’s holding your chin between his forefinger and chin. “Where is he?”

“I’ve been with you,” you growl; his words snap you back to reality. He’s the enemy. You do not want to be this close to the enemy. “How would I know?”

“My spies tell me he packed a bag and left after finding you gone? Did you have a meeting place for emergencies?”

“Eat shit,” you snarl.

 Something brushes against you, like a shadow, but it’s not against your skin, it’s against your mind. The sensation cold, foreign. You blink, pull your head out of his grip to shake your head, shake the feeling off, but it lingers, holding on.

“You don’t even have any fucking shields,” he snarls.

The brush against your mind makes you see things, the farmhouse, your own hands kneading bread, it takes longer than it should for you to realize you’re seeing your own memories play out before you.

“What-” a tavern spins into view, the worn sign clear enough in your eyes that you say the name out loud. It’s a little place, not too far from Spring’s borders, close enough to Autumn that you can get there by foot in half a day. Your uncle had shown you the place as a kid, said that if you’d ever gotten separated from him than you were to go there and wait. If he’d returned home and found the house empty, the first place he’d go was there.

The memory fizzles; the shadow recedes.

Reality slams into you, tears falling from your eyes. What did you just do?

Like he can’t help himself, Rhys brushes a tear off your cheek with his knuckle. “We’ll work on shields first.”

He moves to leave, but you grab him by the front of the shirt. “Wait, please… please don’t do this! I’ll do whatever you want, ok? Just, just leave my uncle out of this.”

It is not cruelty on his face, or judgment, it’s a flash of pain before he straightens, face a mask of perfect indifference as he slides his hand over yours. “As I said, Darling, I would consider your options here carefully.” He pulls your hand away, the lock sliding out of the door on a phantom wind, and then he’s gone.

Only when the lock clicks into place again do you allow yourself to crumple to the floor and cry.

There’s a flower on the bedside table when you finally manage to get up off the floor. It’s the same glowing, violet bud that you had seen in your dreams, the one that had led you right into Rhys’s waiting arms. You pick it up gently, starring at the soft petals, so thin you can almost see through it. It’s beautiful and strange all at once.

Then you take it to the bathroom and flush it down the toilet.

No more stupid flowers, or those damn visions, no more chasing flowers through the woods and trusting stupidly handsome males to protect you. Fuck him and these stupid flowers! They’re to blame for all this mess. A mess you were now dragging your uncle into.

You might have started to spiral again if there wasn't another flower in the first’s place by the time you step back into the main room. As if the one you’d moved had never been there. You stare at it for a long while, then back at the bathroom, the water still running as the toilet flushes, just to make sure you hadn’t imagined removing the first one.

Groaning, you snatch the second one and toss it down the toilet with the first.

There’s a third as quickly and as soundlessly as the other two had arrived.

“You’ve got to be shitting me!” You snatch it off the bedside table and crush it into your hand, the scent of it overwhelming, too strong for any flower not sprouting from the ground to be.

You wipe the remains on the dirty sheets as you sit on the bed, watching the table now, daring a fourth to appear. No one has used the door, the vents aren’t an option, it’s got to be some sort of magic. Unless tables can sprout gardens in this strange mountain dungeon.

As if it knows it’s being watched, no fourth flower appears.

You cross your arms, waiting, challenging it. Minutes tick by. Nothing. Only then do you breath a sigh of relief.

But in the stillness of the room, the lack of entertainment soon becomes suffocating. You try to distract yourself by stripping the sheets off the bed and shaking the dust off of them. You’re obviously going to be sleeping here, might as well make yourself comfortable. But that doesn’t take long.

You push the bed back in front of the door again, it’s failure be damned. At least, if anyone tries to enter while you sleep you'll have a second to get up and move before they get inside.

The bedside table looks lonely without the bed next to it, with a shrug, you decide to move that as well. You’re half way across the room when one of the legs hits a pit in the floor and tips, the lamp bouncing off the floor with a clang that echoes like a death toll in the cavernous space. The movement knocks the slim drawer on the table wide open, a worn book tumbling out across the floor. It definitely hadn't been there earlier when you'd opened it and found the paperweight. The fading title reads Death Gods and Goddesses Through the Ages, in a scrolling font, the author’s name long since legible in the battered leather. There’s less dust on the pages than the rest of the room, like it hasn’t been here quite as long. After collecting the fallen lamp, blissfully not broken, as if is spelled to avoid such things from clumsy creatures like you, and pushing the table against it’s new home on the wall, you sit yourself atop the bed and prop the book open.

The pages are worn, stained, most of the margins filled with hand written notes. A couple of the pages are even book marked.

Long before the first ages of the world, when light was first introduced, the Gods walked the land, unburdened with the weight or mortality. They were before Time. Until the Darkness came and merged with them. Next to the opening paragraph, someone had added the annotation: These are not the same as the Princes from Hel that opened the Portals in the Dark Ages, these are other. Their powers are other.

You shiver and close the book. Who would keep this here?

You draw your fingers over the edges as you process, lip worried between your teeth. It feels like a bad omen, a warning… from the flowers? Your head hurts from all the questions. Are these supposed to be connected? The flowers had led you to the cave, were they leading you to this strange book now too?

You climb under the covers, cold, and then crack the book open again.  

The Darkness took hold, hid Its children in the shadows of the world, rearing its beloved offspring in secret. We did not know to fear them until it was too late. Monsters, they are such terrible monsters. The next note in the margins was a page number that you flipped to, marked with an old slip of paper with swirling marks doodled across it. The High Lords of old consulted with witches and necromancers, priestesses and seers, biding their time, accumulating their knowledge until they were finally able to form a weapon against the Death Gods. At least, that was what they told them. There were those among them who didn’t want the gods removed, they wanted their power to wield, to rule. There’s lists of names, linked in genealogical order of ancient High Lords and bloodlines that had merged with the Death Gods and Goddesses of old. All carefully mapped out. Whoever had owned this book before had done their research, some of the trees branched over onto other pages, the names growing smaller and smaller the longer they went. You don’t have time to read through all of them before the lock on the door groans as it’s moved out of place.

You scramble to hide the book under the mattress before the door opens, though maybe it would have served you just as well as a weapon, because it’s not Rhysand at the door this time.

The soulless black eyes that leer down at you can only belong to the Attor.

It takes seconds for the hulking creature to kick the bed out of the way, the wooden legs screeching as they slash through the rock floor. You don’t even have time to scream, run, as the monster bursts into the room and grabs you by the back of your shift.

“The Queen demands an audience,” it sneers in a voice that sounds like shifting sand.

You flail as it lifts you off the floor like you weigh nothing, begging whatever gods can hear you for help. In a rare flare of power, your claws tear through your fingertips, dark, misty power budding in your palms. You claw at the leather hands holding you, slashing over and over again, splattering blood over the walls.

The Attor snarls, tosses you hard into the wall just outside your door. The impact is jarring, black spots swimming across your eyes, all the air leaving your lungs in a rush. You scramble to get onto your feet, legs unsteady, the room spinning. The cavern like tunnel ahead of you flips and doubles.

“Stupid girl!” It snarls as it reaches for the back of your shift again.

You scramble out of reach, legs wobbly, talons scraping across the walls. You make it all of three steps before the Attor grabs you again. If it’s arms aren’t it’s weak spot you need to hit it somewhere else, but it holds you up out of reach, lesson learned. You reach for the walls instead, punching your talons through the rocks, trying to wrench yourself out of it’s grip by finding something to hold on to.

The terrible shrieking sound your claws make against the rock makes the Attor give you a shake that has your brain rattling around in your skull. “Stop that you little pest!”

More spots swim across your vision, hands slipping off the walls. These last twenty-four hours have made you feel more powerless than you have ever felt in your life. What good are these supposed powers beneath your skin if they don’t even work?

The Attor, on lumbering legs, carries you through dark, twisting tunnels. It’s like walking through a maze, the dark stone walls only lit with torches in sparse intervals. There’s no decorations. Little light. And cold, so damn cold.

The Attors claws scrape against the ground as it walks; you recognize the scrapping sound from the cave in Spring. It had been out hunting you too.

“Where are you taking me?” You dare to ask.

It takes a couple more sharp turns, it’s breathing a heavy hiss behind you as it finally brings you to a set of double, stone doors. They’re taller than even the High Lord’s manor, something you imagined you’d see a cave troll bursting out of in one of your books at home. There is something ancient, sacred about the space as the doors swing open on their own. The chamber ahead of you is cavernous, held up by too many carved pillars to count, all depicting different battles across Prythian’s extensive history. It’s the art work you’ve seen replicated in temples and paintings across the Courts, all supposed to be symbolic, holy, but this…

The floors are made of red marble, like a blood stain; fitting because pinned to the walls are bodies, some human, some fae, some other, all disfigured and mutilated. The contents of your stomach rises into your throat.

The cavern is full of fae, some dancing to the low rumble of music coming from the corner, like no one notices the horrors around them.

At the far end of the space sits a dais, the red headed Queen seated atop it. A glittering dress the shade of her hair hugs her form, a single shard of bone dangling from a string around her neck the centerpiece of the plunging neckline. She sips from a golden chalice, a smudge of red lipstick along the glass, her eyes bored as she surveys the party happening around her. There’s a half dressed male sitting at her feet, head in her lap, her clawed nails drifting absently through his pale hair. A cloud of mirthroot smoke circles him, golden eyes glassy like he has no idea where he is. Rhysand leans against the back of the throne, the only one watching the Attor approach at all. Maybe it is normal to see the gangly creature drag people into the throne room, the party goers certainly don’t notice you.

Amarantha, Rhys had called her, only notices you when the Attor all but hurls you at the base of the dais, your body crumbling against the stairs.

“Her Highness,” the Attor sneers.

The Queen’s grin is cruel as she passes her cup to Rhys, who all but tosses it over his shoulder when she’s not looking. “Quiet!” She barks at the musicians, half hidden in an alcove between pillars. Her voice carries through the room like she had screamed it, the echo in the chamber making the floor shake.

All eyes are suddenly on you as you manage to get back on your feet.

“Rhysand tells me you’re willing to cooperate,” Amarantha says.

You’re very aware of the leering eyes of the crowd as they take you in, still wearing nothing but a shift. The crowd doesn’t get too close, but they’re near enough that you hear the whispers, the laughter. It’s an effort just to swallow. “Yes, I did,” you choke out, intentionally not looking at the male.

Amarantha frowns, “What was that, mouse? I can’t hear you.”

Your cheeks heat; your hands clenching into fists at your sides. “Yes, I will cooperate,” you bite out.

“Hybern will be glad to hear it,” she strokes a hand over the male’s temple, leaving faint pink scratches across his pale skin. He’s too high to notice. “It will be a great victory for the Court to have you back and ready to take your rightful place.”

Rightful place your ass. None of this feels real, right. Your rightful place is with your uncle, trying dozens of new jobs every time his trading business slows, learning new things to make the money stretch. The farmhouse was a new project, a new chance at settling down and not having to live on the road like you had for most of your life. That life was the only thing you had ever known. To be here now, hearing all this talk about war and conquest, with this queen and her court, it was like you’d stepped into a strange dream you couldn’t escape. You’d been trying not to think about it, but faced with it now you didn’t know what to do, say. She was starring at you like she was waiting for you to thank her for ripping the ground out from under you.

Amarantha frowns when you don’t say anything, her hand across the male’s forehead stilling, the eye in the ring on her finger swiveling to look right at you as if it’s a living thing.

“Rhysand,” she snaps, “you had a gift for our guest, didn’t you?”

Rhys looks up from his very important business picking lint off his shoulder. “Right, of course, the gift.”  

The crowd quiets as he descends from the dais and snaps his fingers. At your feet a male appears, bound and gagged with the dark tendrils of Rhys’ magic. The male looks at you pleadingly and though your heart goes out to his plight, you glance up at the other male in confusion. Are you supposed to know who this is?

“Your uncle’s farm hand,” he says with a grand sweep of his hand, all courtly business.

“Since you couldn’t find the kidnapper,” Amarantha hisses.

Rhys slides his hands in his pockets casually, the picture of bored indifference. But his violet eyes are only on you as he says, “This was the only male waiting for her at the Temple she told me about.”

Temple? Your head spins. You hadn’t shown him a temple.

Amarantha pushes the male in her lap away from her as she climbs down the stairs in heels sharp enough to cut. “A little demonstration is in order, don’t you think?”

Rhys steps a little closer to the bound male, but you can’t help but note that he has now positioned himself between you and where Amarantha is poised at the base of the dais.

The male makes a gasping sound before his eyes glaze over, sweat quickly dotting his forehead. Rhys remains with his hands in his pockets, Amarantha giddy at the sight unfurling before her, and even though neither of them move, it’s clear the male is fighting the invisible grip they have on him. You can’t help but think about what the two of them have already done to you.

“Wait,” you protest. Even if you don’t know this male, you don’t want him to suffer. “I already said I would cooperate, this isn’t necessary!”

The male begins to scream, thrash, and the bands of darkness around his wrists and legs dip into the marble floor, pinning him.

The crowd presses in closer to watch; you hear someone start making bets about how long he’ll last.

“This is a little reminder,” Amarantha coos at you, soft enough that the crowd won’t be able to hear it over the screaming. “Of what will happen if you decide you suddenly don’t want to cooperate with my training regime.”

Blood starts to pool in the corner of the male’s eyes.

You can’t stop yourself from stepping forward and grabbing Rhys’s arm. “Please, stop, I get it ok! Let him go. I will do what you ask.”

But louder than your pleading, Amarantha orders, “If he has nothing to give us, kill him.”

The gag slips from the male’s mouth as he turns to look at you with what looks like his last little bit of strength. “Forgive me, Your Highness.”

The sound of bones snapping fills the chamber; the male gurgles on his own blood, and then he slumps lifelessly to the floor.

Tears stream down your cheeks and you yank your hand away from Rhys’s arm, disgusted.

Amarantha waves the Attor over to clean up the mess, even as she says, “You may resume your dancing now.”

As if it never happened, the music starts back up. People start laughing and drinking, the dances not unlike the writhing shapes you had seen in your vision of Calanmai.

She waits until the noise is too loud to be overheard by the crowd to ask, “Did he tell you where her uncle is?”

There’s no chance this stranger knows anything about your uncle. Rhys had lied, but you still find yourself holding your breath, waiting for this to be a trap too. The male certainly acted like he’d known you.

But Rhys says, “I saw a tavern in Winter, I’ll head there-”

“My men will take it from here,” Amarantha interrupts, “I want you here, working on her.”

Rhys bows. “As you wish, My Queen.”

“Escort her back to her room,” Amarantha orders, “I don’t want her back here until we’re sure she can be controlled.”

“Of course,” Rhys moves to take your arm and you duck out of reach.

“I can walk,” you hiss.

He lets his hand fall, slides it back into his pockets.

Amarantha is half way up the dais when she calls back, “I expect quick results.”

He nods in understanding.

“And don’t forget, Rhysand, about the deal you made for this opportunity.”

His eyes darken. “I haven’t.”

As far away from him as you want to be, it’s a relief when he motions for you to move towards the door. The crowd parts for you, some of them outright ignoring you, others leering.

A redheaded male watches the two of you closely, catching Rhys’s eye as you pass.

Rhys snarls something you can’t make out at him.

“Whore,” the other male spits back.

Rhys laughs mirthlessly in response as the doors shut in the other male’s face.

You have questions of course, but the exhaustion of the last twenty-four hours weighs so heavily on you, you almost wish it was the Attor carrying you out. Every footstep is heavy.

Rhys doesn’t speak as he leads you through the maze of tunnels. You should be attempting to learn the path, so if you ever do get out you know where you’re going, but it feels like so much effort. What does it matter in the end? You’re stuck here, at the whim of an evil queen and whatever the hell Rhys is, at least until your supposed father gets here and decides to do Mother knows what with you. Any attempts at escaping, at fighting are useless, not when Rhys knows where to look for him. It’s the reminder that he lied that finally makes you look up from where you’ve been following the cracks in the floor.

“Why’d you do it?” You ask softly.

“Do what?” He counters. He sounds as exhausted as you feel.

You watch the way the shadows of the torchlight bath him in half darkness, the glow of his eyes dimmed here. Everything about him feels dim in these halls, like the mountain has stolen something from him.

“That male-”

He halts at a door that must now belong to you and a bit of magic pulls the door open. “She wants you to know what she will do if she even suspects you’re trying to outsmart her.”

“No,” you shudder thinking about what he had done. How could anybody wield powers like that? “No that’s not what I mean.”

Rhys leans against the doorframe and motions you inside. “I’m afraid you’ve lost me then, Darling.”

You stare at him. He seems to be playing a game unto himself. Whatever his motives are, whatever it has to do with you, he’d not about to admit it here in the hall.

You step into the room, head pounding from all the unanswered questions you have.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he says as the door begins to close.

You don’t want to see him in the morning. He’s a monster who can rip people’s minds apart with a thought, a monster who somehow lured you out of your home and brought you here to his evil queen, but he’s also the monster keeping your secrets, and in places like this, you might need a monster like that on your side. You won’t trust him, not after what he’d done in the cave, but maybe it’s not trust you need in a place like this. Amarantha demands you learn to use your powers, she never said anything about you using them on her.

“I’m counting down the seconds,” you say dryly.

“Dream of me,” he says sweetly.

The door closes before you can snarl that you’ve dreamed of him enough.

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

Tag List: @mariahoedt, @llovelydove, @twsssmlmaa

If anyone else wants to be added to the taglist feel free to let me know :)

[lacesoflove]

hamzah once tweeted that he didnt care about fics being written about him idk if his viewpoint changed but honestly i dont think so cause hes chronically online still so he knows how it is (also i lowkey think that the tiktok community is the worst of all slushy communities they just make up fake stories about hamzah having a secret gf like every other week and most people commenting on there are really something else)

oh don’t get me started on the tik tok community…i just talked about the reddit community because it’s relevant and topical rn, but the tik tok community is actually something else.

i think, and maybe I’m overanalysing this way too deep, because im high as fuck, but i feel like typing a wall of text rn, so i will do just that. (everything said is my opinion and based on my experience from fandom culture, also i forget to say “not all but some” sometimes so i just want ro let you guys know im generalising) also i mention sa very very briefly!!

i think a lot of the tik tok fans are trying to mold hamzah and martin into the traditional social media personalities archetype, similar to tara yummy and jake and the rest of those “emo” guys (idgaf about them ngl 😭 apologies ig if you enjoy their content) - and i’m not saying slushynoobz’s is somehow more highbrow - which i want to quickly add (i swear im not beefing with like the entirety of this fandom i actually love slushies), i feel like there’s also another facet of slushies (to be totally honest i can have my downfalls and act like them sometimes) who like to treat hamzah and martin (i think i said this in my previous post) as above social media influencer culture or are highbrow because they make controversial jokes and shit, but like - they’re literally not? they’re close, or at least familiar with, people like tara yummy and them. they are very much content creators, they are just more self aware about it and have more “humble” (?) origins and have less controversies lmfao and are less brand friendly - i.e hamzah just doing social media because i think he didn’t want to go to college and martin just being an IT worker for canadians gov who made comedy videos. i think the reddit fans (not all tho!!) want to turn slushynoobz and slushies into like sturniolo brothers and tara yummy’s. i notice this especially when they talk about hamzah’s love life. and it’s like yeah, i’m curious too sometimes but i think sometimes they push it. esp with the hamzah and claire shit (which mind you shes still a teenager and hes like 22 - and yes, three years is not bad but like she was 15 and he was 18 when they met, the maturity difference hello???) or even, and i made a post about this already too lmfao, the whole mandy hating martin jokes (which ik are jokes 😭 im not that autistic) which tbh, in my personal opinion, are just overused and in poor taste.

im just worried that the fandom is gonna become a mess, especially with their growing popularity, and i feel like once hamzah can go to the states again, it’s gonna attract a bunch of new people! which is great for them and the community but unfortunately ive been through the dsmp and i hate to sound like that one gatekeeping ass hoe who calls new fans newgen (especially considering i only began watching slushynoobz this year and would only watch 4freakshow when a clip here and there would pop up), but like the fandom is going to get worse 😭

i just wish there was balance in this community like idk man and that people weren’t so extreme (which might be contradictory because i feel like i sound extreme in this post but then again, it might be the ganja), like yes? is it okay to be curious to want to know whay happened between hamzah and haley? yeah, maybe, sure - they’re public figures and had a falling ouf, naturally people are going to be curious? is it right to leave her comments about it or make weird rumours about them dating? no. is it weird to write really weird hamzah fics (and im talking weird with really grotesque topics like sa)? yes. it is, but my issue with reddit fans - the slushies arent even writing fics like that anyways, it’s tame.

im running out of what i wanna say coherently but yeah i just want us all to get along (which tbh, us tumblr girlies do with each other ngl) 🤒

[dg-outlaw]

Why No Love for Red Hood: The Hill?

I think it's all in the marketing and about what's being delivered versus what readers expected.

So I almost made this post on a reblog, but I didn't want to overwhelm that thread. Plus, I'm not sure if people get mad when someone does a long reblog on their short OG post? Anyway, the point of that post was that Issue 3 of 'Red Hood: The Hill' came out and no one's really talking about it, especially Jason/Red Hood fans.

I think the biggest problem (IMO) with this series is that someone wanted to write a story about The Hill and some new characters (which is fine), but like the 'Batman: The Hill' comic (which I think this series is sort of a sequel to), it's banking off a known character, Red Hood, to be it's selling point. "Come for the Red Hood, but stay for these other characters and their story." All fine and good, but a little deceptive when the marketing leans more toward it being a Red Hood (and new 'Outlaw' friends) story rather than one where Jason is a random guest star.

Series description:

In Gotham City’s early days, The Hill was one of Gotham City’s most dangerous neighborhoods, one that required the residents to band together to keep themselves safe when the police – and sometimes even Batman – wouldn’t. Now, as the Hill finds itself gentrifying, old habits die hard as the vigilante known only as Strike works with her team to keep the town safe—but she’s not alone. Jason Todd, one of the Hill’s newest residents, is more than happy to don the visage of Red Hood to help Strike keep his new home safe. But a new villain is emerging from the shadows. Will Red Hood, Strike and the Hill’s small militia of vigilantes be able to keep their home safe?

And this brings me back to the marketing and advertising of this series, especially versus the Batman: The Hill comic.

Obviously we can see the artistic parallels between these two covers (above). Overall, good job and nice throwback, but... there's a major difference. These two are not similar.

The first cover has "THE HILL" in bold, prominent text and Batman is in the background. This says that Batman is part of the story, but he seems secondary to whatever's going on in the foreground, which is mostly true to the story.

The second cover has "RED HOOD" prominent in the title with "The Hill" as secondary and smaller. Jason is also front and center with Batman looming behind him (who only just showed up at the end of issue 3. There's only two more issues left). The character of Strike, our new protagonist and The Hill's main hero, is down at the bottom and barely in-frame, further suggesting it's more about Jason (and maybe Batman) than The Hill or other characters. Again, clever marketing and nice design nod to the original cover, but deceptive when it comes to the series content. I don't necessarily blame the cover artist here as they might've been given a different brief on what the story was about and I get the fun throwback to the old Hill cover, but these covers are almost reversed in terms of Bat-character prominence.

In the original, Batman was more intertwined in that comic's story than Jason is in his series, which further adds to the audience letdown. If anything, this series needed to go with the coffee shop musician strategy: play a bunch of cover songs to win over the crowd and then slip in your original music (OCs) here and there. Once you have your audience hooked, go all out with your original stuff and then throw in 'Wonderwall' just for kicks and to keep them invested.

Ultimately, I think the biggest problem of this series is pacing and balance. The series needs more Jason to allow readers time to invest in the new characters, but as those new characters develop through their interactions with him THEN Jason can fade back as a partner character or just random character who comes in to help out. As it is, he's a guest star in series called, 'RED HOOD: the hill' with most of Jason's actions being 'day-in-the-life' stuff or a random action panel or two.

If anything, I think Red Hood #51 and #52 did a better job of establishing Jason as a main player, but also working alongside a new hero (Strike) and citizens of The Hill in solving a case. The covers above also display a more balanced composition and preview of what you're getting. Yes, you're reading a Red Hood comic, but there will be some other significant characters playing in this sandbox that you should care about and watch out for.

Sadly, I think the untrue message DC will take away from this series if it doesn't do well is that: (1) Jason is NOT an instant seller so let's shelf him because he couldn't carry this series (that he's barely in), and (2) readers don't like these new characters (most of which are BIPOC and/or LGBTQ), so let's ditch them and do more Batman stuff. 🤦‍♂️

And that's unfortunate because I think there's potential here had this series been executed in a better way. I see where the writer wanted to go with these new characters and they actually seem like an interesting and cozy bunch, but I feel like I'm stepping into an already established found family/friend group, but I don't really know them and I'm the outsider. So eventually I'll find a random distracted moment to quietly say bye to my friend Jason and slip out before anyone notices... like the socially awkward introvert that I am.

[shxtodxroki]

𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜: 𝙺𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚘 𝙱𝚘𝚢𝚜 𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝙿𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝙱𝚢 𝙳𝚘𝚍𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝙺𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜

Summary: How do the Karasuno boys react when their s/o decides to prank them by purposefully dodging their kisses?

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of food

Characters: Shoyo Hinata, Tobio Kageyama, Yu Nishinoya, Asahi Azumane, Koshi Sugawara, Daichi Sawamura

Word Count: 3.1k

You can find a My Hero Academia version of these headcanons here if you're interested! Also, this is my first Haikyuu post and I only have 1 other Haikyuu request sitting in my inbox, so feel free to send in Haikyuu requests if you have any! :)

♡ Shoyo Hinata ♡

- Shoyo’s very relaxed whenever you’re around, he’s just so content and happy whenever it comes to you that the thought of you pulling something like this would never even cross his mind, so it’s really easy to prank him and get a funny reaction from your adorably hyper boyfriend

- Oooooh Shoyo is not happy when you pull a prank like this, he loves his kisses, especially after a long day and he won’t appreciate you hiding away from them >:(

- It’s a habit in your relationship for you and Shoyo to meet up after your last class of the day, allowing you to walk him to practice after school and sometimes even stay to watch if you have nothing else going on that day, so you knew this would be the best time for you to try out this little prank >:)

- Of course you greet your boyfriend just like you typically would, wrapping him up in a warm hug before interlacing your fingers with his as he starts chatting with you about his day and the two of you make your way to the practice area so as not to arise any suspicion from him

- And of course Shoyo in none the wiser, excitedly swinging your connected hands back and forth between the two of you as he tells you about the awesome grade he got on his biology test and looks at you expectantly for your response

- “That’s great, Shoyo! I’m so proud of you, I told you that all the studying you did would pay off. I know it was exhausting trying to balance studying and practice, but I knew you could do it.” You smile as you praise your boyfriend, heart melting at the way he beams in response to your words

- But when he leans in for a kiss to celebrate his good grade, you know it’s time to put the prank into action, so you step to the side and watch in horror as your boyfriend faceplants directly onto the sidewalk in front of you, kissing the pavement as he scrambles to pull himself up

- “...What was that for?” Shoyo exclaims after a minute, frowning at you and pointing to where he had just fallen face-first for emphasis. His grumpy, pouty face was positively adorable, and it caused you to immediately lose your resolve as you started laughing and moved to hug your boyfriend in apology

- “I’m so sorry babe, I was just messing with you. Come here, let me make it up to you.” You laugh as you apologize to him, leaning in to kiss the pout off of his face as Shoyo wraps his arms around you tightly

- “I expect at least 10 more kisses from you as an apology for making me fall on my face and embarrass myself, you know.” He responds, and the wide grin on his face when you award him his promised kisses and then some causes your heart to bubble in admiration for the boy, smiling at him and promising to never pull a prank like this again as you finally resume walking him to practice

♡ Tobio Kageyama ♡

- This kind of prank honestly just confuses poor Tobio, he doesn’t really get that it’s a prank at it just leaves him confused, grumpy and needy for your affection :/

- He’s very easy to prank, but also so oblivious that you’d literally have to spell out that it was a prank in order for him to understand. So you know that you’re probably going to regret doing this to him, but you just have to satisfy your curiosity and see for certain how he’ll react

- So you decide to put your plan into action one day after practice, giggling in anticipation as your boyfriend swiftly makes his way from the court over to your side as he reaches out to grab his water bottle from your hand

- “Thank you, Y/n.” he says, gulping down the water before handing the bottle back to you, moving to grab your hand and squeeze it as his silent show of appreciation and affection for you

- “Of course, babe. You’re doing amazing today, always make me so proud.” You praise your boyfriend, watching his cheeks get dusted with a light pink hue as he smiles shyly at you. Usually Tobio wasn’t very big on PDA, but complimenting him after a game or practice was always the best way to get a kiss out of him, and you took advantage of that knowledge in order to put your prank into place

- “Why did you do that?” He asks simply, putting his hand up to smell his breath as he asks. “I think my breath smells fine… is it because I’m too sweaty? That’s never seemed to bother you before though…” Tobio searches for a reason to your sudden odd behavior, pouting as he waits for you to answer him

- And your adorable boyfriend fell right into your trap, leaning in and closing his eyes in hopes of pressing a quick peck to your cheek, only for his lips to meet nothing but air

- Confused, Tobio quickly pulled back to look at you questioningly, debating why you had avoided his kiss in his mind as he gazed intently at you

- “What do you mean, babe? I didn’t do anything!” You respond just to mess with him, biting back a smirk as his pout turns into a small scowl and he grows even more confused and frustrated

- As he continues to ask you why you’re doing this to him you decide to finally give in, giggling and leaning in to give your boyfriend his long-awaited peck as you fluster him with the sudden contact and leave him more confused than ever at your sudden switch-up

- “Yes you did, I tried to kiss you and you moved away!” He responds, wrapping his arms around you as he stares into your eyes, searching for an explanation. “...Did I make you mad or something? I don’t think I did anything to upset you, but if I did, I’m sorry and I didn’t mean it.”

- “I was just messing with you, Tobio. You looked so cute, all confused and pouty.” You respond as you press another kiss to your boyfriend’s nose, giggling again as he grumbles about how he’s not “cute” but still allows you to fawn over him because secretly, he really likes it <3

♡ Yu Nishinoya ♡

- Oh I just know that he would hate this prank the most out of all the boys, Noya thrives off of your kisses and it is downright cruel in his eyes to deprive him of them :’(

- His feelings are hurt, his day is ruined, it's the whole 9 yards of dramatics with this man when you pull a prank like this on him lol so make sure you know what you’re getting into when you decide to do this

- You decide to pull this prank in the privacy of your own home after school while helping Noya study, since you know that if you did this in front of anyone else, he’d only get more upset. At least when it’s just the two of you, you’re the only one who will have to witness his whining, so you opt for privacy when pulling this prank on your incredibly needy boyfriend

- It works and it gets your boyfriend motivated enough to actually try when studying, though, so you’ll take it!

- You see, the two of you have developed a system when it comes to studying, because it can be… difficult to get Noya motivated to actually sit down and study

- So when you both have time, you review questions with him, and reward each correct answer with a kiss like the cheesy couple you are

- Unfortunately, though, you have to momentarily throw a wrench into this system in order to follow through with this prank

- So when you nod approvingly at your boyfriend’s correct answer to the last question you asked him and you see the bright grin spread across his face as his arms immediately reach out for you, you steel yourself and force your head to turn away from his eager kiss

- And of course, Noya immediately freezes when his lips meet your cheek rather than your lips like he was expecting, taking a moment to process before pulling back, frowning and giving you the most wounded look you’ve ever seen from your typically bright, energetic boyfriend

- “Baaaabe, why would you do that to me?!” He immediately starts whining, arms wrapping around you as he buries his face in your chest with his lips still stuck in a pout

- “Oh my god you big baby, you’re so dramatic.” You tease him for just a moment longer before you’re willing to give in, a mischievous smirk across your face as you playfully try to push him away, only for his grip to tighten and cause giggles to erupt out of your throat

- “Why don’t you love me anymore? Why are you ignoring my affection when I studied so hard for you? I earned that kiss, baby!” He whines even louder now, arms digging into your sides to tickle you and forcing allowing you to finally cave

- “Noya, stop! Fine, I’ll give you what you want so badly.” You manage to break free of his tickles long enough to press a chaste kiss to your boyfriend’s lips, smile growing wider when he leans in once more to reclaim your lips with his own as his way of making up for your earlier lack of kisses >:)

♡ Asahi Azumane ♡

- Genuinely why would you ever do this to him :( Asahi’s such a sweet boy and he loves your kisses so much, this is so cruel!

- Okay in all honesty, it would probably be incredibly easy to do a prank like this on Asahi, he’s very unguarded when it comes to you, so he’ll never see it coming and his constant kisses leave you with a plethora of opportunities to pull a prank like this

- And because he’s so sweet and sensitive and would never suspect this from you, you know his reaction will be golden, and it’s an innocent enough prank that you’re willing to go through with it just to see his reaction

- You decided to pull this on him right after a long day of practice, since you know that’s the time where he’s the most needy for your kisses, praise and affection

- You, being the wonderful s/o that you are, meet your boyfriend for the last 30 minutes or so of his practice, proudly cheering him on from the sidelines and bragging to the few people not playing at the moment about how proud you are of your amazing boyfriend

- And once practice ends, you can see a red tint on his face as he smiles gratefully at you, hastily making his way to you with his arms wide open in a hug that you know will be accompanied by a chaste peck, just a small kiss so that he wouldn’t get teased too badly over showing PDA in front of his team mates

- But poor, poor Asahi was left incredibly confused when you turned your face away from his kiss, instead opting to turn so his lips landed right on the side of your head

- You hear Suga and Daichi immediately burst into laughter upon seeing your denial of your boyfriend’s affections, already feeling guilty over the teasing he would inevitably endure over this but forcing yourself to follow through with the prank for a little longer despite the pouty look worn across your adorable boyfriend’s face

- “...You’re kinda sweaty babe, sorry.” You tried to force a grimace to add to the prank, but the way Daichi and Suga absolutely fell apart at your comment convinced you that it was already time to give this up and put your poor boyfriend’s mind at ease as he looked down in shame at your words

- Poor Asahi's face was absolutely flushed with red upon hearing what you had said and the laughs of his team mates, though, mouth falling open as he floundered to find any words to apologize in that moment

- Before he could let out the embarrassed apology that was on the tip of his lips/ hiwever/ you reached out to cradle his large frame in your arms, reassuring him that you were just pranking him loud enough that his teammates would hear as you pressed kisses across his face to apologize for your actions

- Your PDA only made him blush more, and his teammates would never let him forget this moment, but his pout immediately disappeared and was replaced with a shy smile as he muttered an “It’s okay, angel” and hugged you back tightly, just happy to be able to kiss you again <3

♡ Koshi Sugawara ♡

- I can definitely see Suga being just a bit of a little shit to you when you pull stuff like this, in all honesty

- 99% of the time, Koshi's your adorable, incredibly sweet and loving boyfriend who would never dream of messing with you or being upset with you

- But that 1% of the time, when he’s in a particular mood and you try to pull a prank like this on him?

- Oh, he’d definitely mess with you just a bit in return to get you back >:)

- You and Koshi decided to have a cute little date night at his house, as you both have the weekend to relax and spend time together :)

- And whenever you two have date nights, one of your favorite activities to do together is cooking dinner with each other, taste testing each part of your chosen dish and working together to create a meal you’ll both enjoy

- Tonight the two of you are cooking your favorite meal, as Suga wanted to celebrate the high score you got on your recent math test and reward you for all your hard work like the wonderful, caring boyfriend he is :>

- And of course you, the sneaky little menace you are, have to repay your boyfriend’s kindness with a prank, just to mess with him a little

- So when Suga gently prods at your lips with a spoon, silently asking you to taste test a part of the dish, you immediately know what he’s up to, putting the spoon in your mouth and nodding encouragingly at him to show him that it tasted good as you wait for him to follow his predictable pattern he always fell into in moments like these

- And he does, smiling back at you before immediately leaning in to replace the spoon with his lips and capture your mouth in a sweet kiss

- Except this time you lean away from his kiss, giggling as his kiss lands on your chin and he pulls back, frowning at you

- And, while Suga immediately knew this was a prank, he was also quite the actor when he wanted to be, so he decided to get you back a little bit after he kindly made your favorite meal with you and you chose to rekay him with a prank and withholding your affections

- “Sweetie, it was just a prank, I’m so sorry.” You apologize immediately, holding your boyfriend tighter out of guilt. “Of course I still love you, I didn’t mean it. It was just a dumb prank.” You promise, only to be caught off guard when you suddenly hear your boyfriend giggling with his head tucked into your chest, giving you a shit-eating grin and making it clear that he had actually gotten you

- Suga gave you the most genuine pout you had ever seen, eyes welling up with crocodile tears and causing the smile to immediately fall off of your face as he backed away from you, feigning hurt and heartbreak

' “Babe… do you… do you not love me any more? Why would you… why would you avoid my kiss?” He asks, so quietly that it seems like his heart is breaking and you immediately scoop your boyfriend up in your arms to reassure him with a gentle hug and kisses pressed all over his face

- So yeah, it’s probably best not to mess with your endearing, doting boyfriend, because he can and will switch up entirely and find a way to get you back for trying to mess with him like this >:)

♡ Daichi Sawamura ♡

- Honestly, I feel like Daichi will be able to tell that you’re up to something before you even pull this prank, and while he’s not gonna be as dramatic about it as some of the others, he’s still not gonna be happy about it and he’s gonna make sure you know that lol

- I can see him approaching this kinda similarly to Suga, but he wants to give you a taste of your own medicine so he’ll be a bit more direct with his actions

- Daichi was always kind enough to walk you home whenever you stayed after school to watch him practice and support him, he insisted that he had to make sure his wonderful partner always made it home safe and he always kept your hand tightly clasped in his as you walked home together and chatted about whatever came to mind

- Today, though, your typically peaceful, relaxing walk with your boyfriend was going to take a mischievous turn, a sneaky grin plastered across your face as you began your prank

- Daichi, ever the observant and attentive boyfriend, had unfortunately already noticed something was up with you, though. He saw the way you were nervously fidgeting with your hands as you walked, and the way you sported the grin he only ever saw when you were up to something, but he decided to feign ignorance for now just to see what you would do

- “Honestly, I’m feeling really good about tomorrow’s game. We’ve been working really hard recently, and I think we have it in the bag.” Daichi wrapped up what he had been saying, looking over and smiling at you as he wrapped an arm swiftly around your shoulders and waited to hear your thoughts on their chances in tomorrow’s game

- “Of course you guys do, babe. I can’t wait to watch you absolutely crush them tomorrow, I don’t doubt you guys at all.” You reassured him, squeezing your boyfriend’s hand and giggling as he leaned in to kiss you in response to your encouragement, immediately moving your head so his lips met nothing but air

- When Daichi realized what you had done, he paused for a moment, eyes opening slowly and glancing at you before giving you a sneaky smirk of his own and turning to walk away from you “Fine, be like that. I see my own girlfriend doesn’t love me anymore.”

- Your jaw immediately fell open at his words, frowning at how quickly he had turned your own prank back around on you and chasing after your boyfriend, attempting to press an apology kiss to his cheek and pouting when he moved his head away

- “Babe, don’t be like that!” You whined, wrapping your arms around him and forcing him to stop walking as you held his face in your hands. “It was a dumb prank, I’m sorry, now please let me kiss you to make up for it.”

- Daichi contemplated making you squirm for a bit longer, but eventually decided to give in this time, leaning in and letting you press a sweet kiss to his lips as he smiled contently

- His arms wrapped around your waist to kiss you back, smirking at how he always won in moment like these even when you tried to mess with him

A/N: Hi everyone, I’m super excited to make my first post for Haikyuu! I’ll admit that I’m not super far into the show yet, I’ve only just made it through season 1 so I apologize if the characters don’t feel as accurately represented, but I tried my hardest to make their depictions as accurate as possible! :) I chose the team members who I’m personally more drawn to to start off with, but as of now, you’re free to request for any characters in the anime, so feel free to send in a request if you have one and it’ll be added to my Haikyuu request list asap! :D

If you’d like to be added to any of my taglists, you can fill out this form here! Thank you for your support <3

[jxwl4k]

Harmony in Contrast

PLOT: Ushijima Wakatoshi, known for his calm demeanor, finds himself captivated by the energetic and lively Y/N L/N. Despite their differences, they discover a harmonious balance in their relationship, where Ushijima's stability complements Y/N's energy, creating a love filled with understanding and joy.

A/N: I decided to just post it today, since majority of the vote is yes, and I also wanted to publish it today. So yeah enjoy reading!

Also, if you guys want more ushijima fanfic, just tell me and don’t be shy to tell me if you have any scenarios!

Ushijima Wakatoshi was known as the calm and collected boyfriend among his friends and teammates. He had a serious demeanor and a focused attitude towards his volleyball career. His girlfriend, Y/N L/N, on the other hand, was the complete opposite – energetic, lively, and always bursting with enthusiasm.

One sunny afternoon, Ushijima and Y/N decided to spend the day at the beach. As they arrived, Y/N immediately ran towards the water, eager to splash around and build sandcastles. Ushijima followed behind, his pace steady and composed.

"Come on, Wakatoshi! Let's play beach volleyball!" Y/N exclaimed, grabbing a ball and bouncing on her toes.

Ushijima nodded calmly, accepting the challenge. Despite his reserved nature, he couldn't help but smile as Y/N's vibrant energy rubbed off on him. They started playing, with Y/N diving for every ball and cheering loudly with each point they scored. Ushijima's precise spikes and steady serves complemented Y/N's agile moves perfectly.

After a fun game, they settled down on the sand. Y/N chatted animatedly about her day while Ushijima listened attentively, occasionally interjecting with thoughtful comments. As the sun began to set, they walked along the shoreline, hand in hand.

"Wakatoshi, look at this one! It's so pretty," Y/N exclaimed, holding up a particularly intricate shell.

Ushijima nodded, his gaze thoughtful as he replied, "It's impressive how nature creates such intricate patterns."

"Yeah! Nature is amazing, isn't it?" Y/N grinned, slipping the shell into her pocket before skipping ahead again.

Later, at dinner, they sat across from each other in a cozy seaside restaurant. Y/N eagerly scanned the menu, her eyes lighting up at the descriptions of various dishes.

"I think I'll try the seafood pasta," Y/N decided, closing the menu with a satisfied nod.

Ushijima placed his menu down and calmly said, "I'll have the grilled fish."

Y/N leaned forward, her excitement palpable. "Oh, that sounds delicious! I can't wait to try everything here."

Ushijima smiled softly. "You always find joy in the simplest things."

Y/N grinned back. "And you always know how to appreciate the finer details."

Throughout the evening, their conversation flowed effortlessly. Y/N shared stories from her day, recounting funny anecdotes and amusing observations. Ushijima listened intently, occasionally adding a quiet comment or asking a thoughtful question.

As they walked home under the moonlit sky, Y/N linked arms with Ushijima, feeling a sense of warmth and contentment. She glanced up at him, her voice soft with affection. "Thank you for today, Wakatoshi. I had so much fun."

Ushijima nodded, his expression gentle. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself, Y/N."

"And thank you for being so patient with me," Y/N added with a playful grin. "I know I can be a handful sometimes."

Ushijima chuckled softly. "It's part of what makes you who you are."

They walked in comfortable silence for a while, the sound of the ocean providing a soothing backdrop to their thoughts. As they approached their apartment building, Y/N couldn't help but feel grateful for the balance they brought to each other's lives – her boundless energy and his calm presence creating a harmonious rhythm that felt just right.