#these panels just broke my heart a little

[thebatcreature]

Superman: Lost is making me so sad :(

[mangooes]

The Cat-tastrophe

part 2 here!

Sylus had seen many things in his life—wars, betrayals, the rise and fall of entire empires. But nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared him for the sight before him now.

A small, fluffy furred cat with strikingly familiar light eyes sat in the middle of their bed, staring up at him with an unmistakable expression of pure irritation.

“…(Name), sweetie?” Sylus finally managed, blinking in disbelief.

The cat huffed.

Oh, this was definitely his wife.

He slowly crouched down, observing the feline who—just a moment ago—had been his beautiful, sassy, human wife. The same wife who, not even an hour ago, had pushed him out of the way and taken the hit from a poisoned blade meant for him.

And now… she was this.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

(Name), in her tiny cat form, flicked her fluffy tail aggressively, ears flattened.

“I take that as a ‘no, I am very much not kidding you, husband’?” Sylus smirked, reaching out to poke her tiny forehead.

She bit him.

“Ouch, you wound me sweetheart.” Sylus snatched his hand back, shaking it in mild offense. “Sweetie, you just turned into a cat and you’re biting me?”

The furball huffed again, then turned her back to him dramatically, sitting primly as if saying: This is your fault, deal with it.

Sylus exhaled, raking a hand through his hair. "You just had to jump in front of me, didn't you?" He muttered, staring at her tiny, fluffy form. "And now I'm married to a cat."

(Name)—the cat—turned her head to squint at him.

Sylus dramatically placed a hand over his heart. "Oh, my beloved wife, what have they done to you?"

She swiped at his hand with her tiny claws.

He dodged, grinning. "Alright, alright, kitten, don’t get your tail in a twist." He picked her up effortlessly, despite her very vocal protests of angry meows. Holding her up to eye level, he inspected her closely. “You know, this is actually adorable. Maybe I should keep you like this forever.”

She smacked him in the face with her tail.

Sylus laughed. “Ohh, don’t look at me like that, sweetie. You’re so soft and tiny, how am I supposed to take you seriously?” He rubbed his cheek against her fur, nuzzling, smirking.

“I could just carry you everywhere~”

(Name) violently wiggled in his grip, clearly screaming in cat language.

“Fine, fine,” Sylus chuckled, setting her down gently onto his lap. He stroked her ears, watching as they twitched in irritation. “We’ll fix this, alright? I’ll get Luke and Kieran to find a cure. Until then…” His smirk widened.

“I guess I get to have a lap cat now.”

She flopped onto his lap in defeat, letting out the most dramatic sigh a cat could possibly make.

This was going to be a long night.

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

Sylus thought he had everything under control.

Key word: thought.

He had (Name)—his fluffy little cat wife—perched comfortably in his lap, purring only when bribed with chin scratches. He had locked all possible escape routes, because well he knew she would eventually try to sneak off without his notice. What a naughty kitten.

He had stationed Luke and Kieran outside, warning them that if they so much as let a furred cat slip past them, they'd be scrubbing bloodstains out of his office floors for the next month.

But this was well, (Name).

The same woman who once escaped from an enemy’s clutches while wearing stilettos.

The same woman who broke into his office once—just to steal his favorite snack out of pure spite.

The same woman who, even in cat form, had zero intention of staying put.

Escape Attempt #1: The Window Leap Sylus had been answering a call when he heard it—the distinct sound of tiny claws scratching against the window panel.

He turned around just in time to see a blur of fur launching itself at the glass.

With inhuman reflexes, he caught her mid-air, holding her up by the scruff as she dangled, wiggling furiously.

“Sweetie,” Sylus said slowly, narrowing his crimson eyes.

The cat blinked at him innocently. Who, me?

Sylus sighed. "You're so lucky you're cute."

Escape Attempt #2: The ‘Poor Helpless Kitten’ Act

She sprawled out limp, sighing the deepest sigh imaginable, rolling onto her back with her paws curled up.

A pitiful, mournful meow escaped her.

Luke, who had been standing guard, looked genuinely concerned. “Boss, maybe she’s hungry? Or sick?”

Sylus raised a brow.

Kieran chimed in. “Yeah, she looks like she’s in pain—”

While the others had their guard down, then she bolted.

One second, she was a poor helpless kitten, and the next, she had slipped through Kieran’s legs and dashed under the nearest cabinet.

“…She played us,” Kieran deadpanned.

Luke gasped. “Missus… I trusted you.”

(Name)’s tail twitched mischievously from under the cabinet.

Sylus groaned, rubbing his temples, he loved how sassy his wife is, but now? Hes tempted to lock her in his arms forever.

Escape Attempt #3: Acctually successing this time. After multiple failed escape missions, (Name) had disappeared.

Like, completely vanished.

Luke and Kieran had no idea where she went. Sylus had torn apart the room twice.

It wasn’t until he checked mephisto's cctv recordings that he knew exactly what had happened.

(Name) had escaped through an air vent, successfully made it out to the courtyard, and—

—was last seen dashing away from the backyard.

Sylus sighed, and a low chuckle errupts from him.

“Looks like i need to fetch my missing kitten,” he called out, loud and sharp enough for the twins to hear the lethal tone of his wording.

The twins gulped, able to sense their boss's rising frustration.

The said man walks pass the twins, his jacket on his arms as he fetch his expensive sport bike key.

Before glancing behind, crimson eyes locked, expression stern.

There was a long silence.

A command that must be fullfiled.

"I want her found, now."

There will be a part 2 btw!! And it involves xavier and his version of reader!! So everyone gets to be with a wife too LMAOO. Anyways I have finally FINISHEDD MY EXAMM AKJSD which means more writting for Sylus <3

[aventurineswife]

Gepard, Sampo, Ratio, Aventurine and Boothill react that reader has turned into a child by someone or something

From Giant to Child, You Are Still You

Tags: Gepard x Reader, Sampo x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Boothill x Reader, Protective Characters, Humor, Can be ready Romantically or Platonically, Lighthearted, Transformation Chaos, Caretaking, Humor, Character Bonds.

Gepard stood frozen, his eyes wide with shock as he took in the sight before him. You—his steadfast companion—had somehow been transformed into a small child. Clutching a plush toy you seemed to have conjured out of nowhere, you looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes, your tiny hand reaching out for his.

“What happened to you?” he murmured, crouching down to your level. He couldn’t hide the worry etched into his features. He was a soldier, trained to face terrifying monsters, but this? This was entirely out of his depth.

You tilted your head, giving him a toothy grin. “Gepard, you look funny! Your armor is so shiny!”

He couldn't help but chuckle despite the situation. “Well, at least your spirit hasn’t changed.” He reached out, gently patting your head, careful not to startle you. His mind raced, trying to think of a way to reverse this transformation. Until then, he swore to himself he’d protect you even more fiercely than before.

For now, though, he’d carry you on his shoulder and let you tug at his hair, your laughter bringing a rare lightness to his heart.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Sampo’s teasing voice broke through the silence as he crouched down to inspect the tiny version of you tugging at his coat. “My favorite customer has shrunk! How did this happen? Was it some experiment gone wrong, or did you just decide being an adult wasn’t worth the hassle?”

You pouted, crossing your arms. “It wasn’t my fault! Someone did this to me!”

Sampo smirked, ruffling your hair in an almost brotherly way. “Relax, kiddo, I’ll get you back to normal…eventually. But in the meantime, imagine the opportunities! You’re smaller, sneakier—this could work in my favor.”

You glared up at him, your tiny stature doing little to make it intimidating. “Sampo, this isn’t funny!”

“Aw, c’mon, it’s a little funny,” he chuckled, scooping you up into his arms. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe. Besides, you’re too adorable for anyone to resist now.” He winked.

Despite his lighthearted tone, Sampo kept a close watch on you. As much as he liked to joke, the thought of you being in danger in this vulnerable state didn’t sit right with him. Whoever caused this had better be ready for a reckoning—Sampo Koski style.

Ratio stared down at you, his arms crossed and an unimpressed look on his face. “This has to be some kind of joke,” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How, exactly, did you manage to turn into a child? Was it a poorly thought-out experiment? Some unstable phenomenon?”

You blinked up at him, hugging his leg for comfort. “I didn’t mean to! Fix it, Ratio!”

He sighed, kneeling to your level. “This complicates things. I can’t have you running around in this state. You’ll break something—or worse, touch my research.” His sharp tone made you shrink back, but his expression softened when he saw the tears welling in your eyes.

“Don’t cry,” he said quickly, awkwardly patting your head. “I’ll figure it out.” He picked you up, carefully cradling you as if you were made of glass.

While he worked to reverse the transformation, Ratio found himself unexpectedly entertained by your childlike curiosity. You tugged at the straps of his vest, asking endless questions about the glowing gadgets in his lab. To his surprise, he found himself answering, even if the explanations went over your head.

For all his protests, Ratio’s protective nature shone through. He kept you close, determined to return you to normal—but not without muttering under his breath about the trials of babysitting.

The opulent suite was alive with the faint hum of energy panels and the clinking of Aventurine’s rings as he flipped a coin lazily between his fingers. Seated at a velvet chaise, he seemed the epitome of nonchalance, but his sharp eyes flicked over the room with calculated precision. He never truly relaxed.

Until you came bursting in—or rather, toddled in.

The sound of small feet padding across the marbled floor drew his attention, and the coin stopped mid-air as he caught it deftly. His smirk faltered.

"Well, well," he said, sliding off the chaise and crouching to your level. His voice was syrupy, teasing, but there was a hint of genuine confusion behind it. "What do we have here? Did you get lost on your way to daycare, darling?"

You tilted your head up at him, your now tiny face scrunched in distress. "A-Aventurine, it’s me!"

His smile froze. For a moment, his flamboyant mask cracked, and genuine alarm flickered across his features. Then, in true Aventurine fashion, he burst out laughing, though it was an uneasy sound.

"Oh, you must be joking!" he exclaimed, standing abruptly and running a hand through his hair. "No, wait—this isn’t a joke, is it?" His eyes locked onto yours, scanning for some sign of trickery.

"I don’t know what happened!" you wailed, tugging at his pant leg. "One minute I was normal, and now I’m—this!"

Aventurine crouched again, resting his elbows on his knees and rubbing his chin. "Fascinating. You’re—what? Cursed? Experimented on? Fell into some eldritch goo, perhaps?" His words were light, but his tone betrayed his rising concern.

"I don’t know!" you replied, stomping your tiny foot.

"Alright, alright," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "No need to throw a tantrum. We’ll figure this out. But first—" He scooped you up with surprising ease, spinning you around as if assessing a new casino trinket. "Look at you! You’re adorable! Almost makes me wish I could shrink down and start over myself."

You scowled, your childlike pout only adding to the adorableness. "Aventurine!"

He sighed dramatically, setting you down on the chaise. "Fine, fine. I’ll help you fix this. But you owe me big time, darling. Babysitting isn’t in my job description."

Despite his usual carefree attitude, Aventurine’s actions were swift and decisive as he began making calls and weaving his web of connections to find out what—or who—had caused this. Every so often, he glanced your way, a faint smile playing at his lips.

"Guess it’s my turn to be the responsible adult..." he muttered under his breath.

The sound of spurs clinking against the metallic floor echoed through the dimly lit saloon-like cantina. Boothill leaned against the bar, his hat tilted low over his white hair, a toothy grin flashing as he polished one of his pistols.

Then the sound of soft, uneven footsteps reached his ears. They were far too light to belong to one of the Galaxy Rangers or any of the usual drunks who frequented the place. He straightened, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.

When you stumbled into view—half your usual size, your tiny hands gripping the edge of a table for balance—Boothill froze.

“...Sugar?” His voice was rough, skeptical. He crouched slightly, his red scarf brushing the floor. “The fudge happened to you?”

“It’s me!” you squeaked, tears welling up in your now much smaller eyes.

Boothill blinked. “No kiddin’.” He stood straight, one hand on his hip, the other scratching the back of his head. “Well, ain’t this somethin’. You look like a calf that wandered outta the pen.”

You glared at him, though the effect was more precious than intimidating. “Boothill, stop joking! This is serious!”

He let out a low whistle, crouching again so you could see his shark-like grin. “Alright, alright, don’t blow a gasket. Just...how’d this happen? Someone shrink ray ya? Drink somethin’ funky?”

“I don’t know!” you whined, stamping your little foot. “One minute I was fine, and the next—poof!”

Boothill’s grin faded, replaced by a contemplative look as he reached out, ruffling your hair gently with his mechanical fingers. “Alright, darlin’. Don’t you worry none. We’ll get ya fixed up.” He stood, drawing one of his pistols with a dramatic flourish. “But first, let’s figure out who’s behind this. You reckon it’s the IPC? Wouldn’t put it past those varmints to mess with folks like this.”

You shook your head, sniffling. “I don’t know…”

Boothill sighed, holstering his gun before scooping you up in one arm. “Guess you’ll just hafta stick with ol’ Boothill for a bit. Hope you ain’t too squirmy, kiddo.”

Despite his gruff demeanor, Boothill’s protective side shone through as he carried you out of the cantina, his eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of danger. “Don’t fret,” he said, his tone surprisingly gentle. “Ain’t nothin’ out there that can outdraw me. We’ll get ya back to normal in no time.”

You buried your face in his scarf, finding comfort in its warmth. Boothill’s grin returned, this time softer, as he adjusted his hat.

“Reckon you’re lucky to have me, huh?” he teased, spurs clinking as he strode confidently into the unknown.

[gold-onthe-inside]

gingerbread kisses

who? spencer reid (s4) x bau!reader

summary: your first christmas as a couple with spencer involves baking, construction, and lots and lots of kisses

word count: 1.9k

content warnings: oral (f receiving), spencer calls r 'sweet girl', minors dni

"Yours looks so much better than mine," you whined, looking over at Spencer's gingerbread house, perfectly cut panels holding together to form a house while yours sagged at an angle.

"It's not that bad," he replied, if only to make you feel better and shifted closer to see if he could fix the angle of it, and you peered over his shoulder, watching his nimble fingers carefully adjust the panels, reapplying icing like it was glue. "There," Spencer said, pulling his hands away... and then it sagged lower and he frowned at it, puzzled, and you stifled a giggle against his shoulder at his utter confusion. Your nose pressed into his soft woollen sweater, arms wrapping around him. "Maybe if I--"

"Just leave it," you told him, kissing his cheek, your lip balm sticky against his warm skin. Even now, 6 months into dating, his cheeks flushed at your kiss, and he looked down at you, chasing your lips, his hands finding your cheeks, fingers equally sticky with icing. It was always so earnest, filled with as much longing as the first time you'd kissed him. He doesn’t want to let go when he pulls away, but then there's a streak of icing on your cheek and he can't help a wince.

"Sorry," he said, oblivious to your dazed look, moving to wipe his hands and you let out another soft groan of protest at the loss of him, only for him to come back to gently wipe your cheeks clean. "Can I tell you something?" he asked, looking at you intently.

"Always," you replied with your sweet smile and adoring gaze.

"This is the best Christmas I've ever had," he said, putting the cloth away, and you wished you could express how much you loved him in this moment, but you've never been as articulate with your affection as him. So you do what you know best; you tugged him closer, kissing him. You could live in this moment forever, his lips on yours, sitting on the floor of your apartment. Spencer pressed you back against the couch, his hands seeking your jaw, his tongue darting to your lower lip. He's always careful with you, slow and thoughtful, his thumb gently angling your chin higher.

You parted your lips, his tongue languidly exploring your mouth. His hand carefully slid down your neck, his thumb finding your pulse and he broke for breath, placing warm gentle kisses along your soft jaw. "My sweet girl," he murmured, reaching your ear. "I could do this forever."

Your heart fluttered the way it always did. He’d called you his since the beginning, sweet girl. He’d say it often, a gentle declaration of his affection. His hand slid down, thumb tracing the collar of your sweater, his face buried in your neck as he left his own mark on you, teeth grazing gently against the soft skin and your breath hitched. “God, Spence…” He felt you shift underneath him, already overwhelmed by his touch. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging a little when he mouthed at your neck. One of his hands rests on your hip, his thumb brushing the skin under your sweater.

He couldn’t help himself. You felt so warm and soft, so lovely wrapped in his arms. He pushed your sweater up gently, baring more of your skin, his touch warm, and light. He could spend hours just tracing his fingers across your skin. You tasted sweet, like sugar and vanilla, and he shifted, adjusting to slide between your legs. You tilted your head back, looking up at him, your eyes slightly unfocused, lips parted with your heavy breaths. His head dipped, mouth leaving marks along your neck as he pushed your sweater up again, just over your ribs, your breath stuttering as his teeth grazed over the sensitive skin. Your hand fisted in his sweater, a needy whisper escaping you, "Spencer..."

"Let me take care of you," he murmured against your shoulder, pushing your sweater high enough for you to wordlessly lift your arms so he could toss it to one side, and he needed to catch his breath as he looked down at you. He’d seen you a hundred times before, all those soft smooth curves, your soft sighs and breathless gasps that he lived for. You were so trusting in his arms, the way your fingers threaded through his hair, your back arching when his mouth found your stomach, kissing reverently at your soft skin. “So perfect,” he murmured.

You don't have the brainpower to spare to respond with anything other than his name, said so many times that it should have lost its meaning by now, but it never does. The way it came out all breathless and needy, desperate and reverent, the way you’d call his name as he pressed you into the couch, body over yours, pinning you in place as his mouth found your skin, tracing a path along your hip. You pulled uselessly at his sweater, biting your lower lip. “So impatient, my sweet girl,” he murmured, and your whine sent a spark straight through him.

"Want to see you, angel," you pleaded and he couldn’t deny you, even if he wanted to, not when your hands already reached to push under his sweater, your hands warm on his skin and he pulled back, pulling the offending garment off completely. You smiled, looking at him fondly. "Much better," you murmured, shifting up to kiss him again, your warm lips meeting his.

He met you readily, pressing you down again, his body covering yours, a warm comfortable weight. He could never get enough of how you fit against him, the feel of your soft skin against his fingers, the way your mouth moved against him, sweet and willing. The way your legs moved to wrap around him. "Okay if I take this off?" he whispered, hands finding the waistband of your pyjama pants, beige with little cookies printed over them, hot breath fanning over your face, eyes watching you as you nod. He slid the soft material down your legs, leaving you bare before him. It was a view he loved, all your bare skin, all his to touch and explore.

Your breath hitched as his hands gently nudged your thighs further apart, and he slowly sank onto his knees between them. You let out a small groan involuntarily, just at the sight of him between your thighs. "Angel..."

He shushed you gently, fingers tracing circles on your thighs, so close to where you wanted him. His eyes roamed over you, taking in every detail, your breathing and the way your legs twitched. “Just relax, my sweet girl,” he murmured, his thumbs rubbing soothing strokes across your skin.

"You're not making it easy," you muttered back.

He couldn’t help the smile at your comment, his hands slowly shifting your legs, lifting them to pull off your panties, and he could feel the way your breath caught, your body shifting slightly to help. He was so close to you he could practically feel your heat against his face. He was still gently running his fingers over the skin of your thighs, trying to keep you calm. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, voice impossibly soft.

His warm breath against you made your head spin, and you were too lost in the feel of his hands and mouth to do anything but gasp his name and tilt your head back. You were so wet, so needy for him, and you couldn’t help the way your legs shifted, pleading for more. He gently nudged at them, spreading you open further for him. He looked up at you, eyes dark with desire, the sight of you underneath him, leaning back against the foot of the couch, your chest heaving and your body tense, just for him.

He leaned in, and he didn’t miss the way your body jolted when his tongue licked over you, and he hummed against your skin. You tasted so sweet, so perfect, and he was slowly getting addicted to the taste, his hands holding your thighs in place as he slowly explored you. He’d wanted to make you fall apart, the way you’d done so many times for him, bringing him to the knife’s edge before pulling him over. But he couldn’t wait long, and he pushed forward, his tongue circling before he suddenly thrust forward, tasting as much of you as he could.

The effect was instant, and he felt you jerk against him, your gasp turning into a long moan. The sound made his hands squeeze at your thighs, wanting you closer. You were always so responsive to him, so sensitive, and you were already on edge from his light teasing. He loved the sounds you made, all those soft noises that you seemed unable to help when he was like this. He loved the way your skin felt under his hands, the way you would pull and tug at his hair when he was teasing you. He loved the way you felt, warm and soft all around him. He loved you, and he wanted you to fall apart. He was almost relentless, tongue working over you, delving into you, wanting you to come completely undone.

He didn’t want to pull away, wanted to keep going, to take you as close as he could, but you were already teetering on the edge, so close to climax. He loved how responsive you were, how he could pull those sweet moans and gasps so easily from you with just a few caresses. He wanted to see you come, wanted to feel your body shaking against him. He pulled back for a second, breathless, his voice already wrecked from how sweet you sounded, “Come for me, my sweet girl."

Your fingers scrabbled for his hair, needing something to hold onto as he brought you through your climax, his tongue not leaving you until you were begging him to stop, your body sensitive and overwhelmed. He let his hands gently trail across your thighs as you fell back onto the couch, boneless and still quivering. He couldn’t help a little smile at how wrecked you looked, your hair falling over your eyes, your body trembling. And yet you still looked beautiful, your bare body on display for him, your skin flush and warm. He shifted forward, his lips gently kissing your stomach and travelling up your body, until he laid down on top of you, his weight carefully resting between your legs, his head buried in your neck.

"I love you," you whispered, holding him, your fingers trailing over his back.

He lifted his head at your words, still so touched by your sweetness. After all this time, you still managed to surprise him. He shifted, propping himself up on an elbow to look down at you, his gaze soft and adoring. “I love you more,” he murmured, reaching up to gently brush a strand of hair out of your eyes, fingers tracing the line of your jaw.

"Not possible," you murmured.

He smiled, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Agree to disagree,” he teased, his hand gently caressing your hair, fingers carding through the messy strands. He liked you like this; soft and pliable in his arms, your body still trembling from your orgasm. His fingers traced down the side of your face, before his knuckles grazed gently over your collarbone, tracing the line of your shoulder.

"You were right," you murmured, looking at him. "Best Christmas ever. Even if I can't build a gingerbread house for the life of me."

He looked at the wreckage of the house, then back to you, hiding a smile. “You’re good at a lot of things, sweetheart, but decorating is just not your strong suit,” he teased and you huffed and shoved at his shoulder in mock offence. He just pulled you on top of him, kissing you deeply all over again.

[clandestineloki]

miguel o'hara x shy crybaby housewife!reader (p3)

[based off of a request where a kind anon asked me 2 write one where he snapped at her, tweaked it a little bit so he's actually not mad at her but more concerned, it just came off in the wrong way]

tw: mentions of blood and wounds from shards, suggestive bit at the end

miguel whos just gotten out of the nice warm bath you made for him

having put on a tight white shirt and sweatpants, drying his hair when he hears a something breaking in the kitchen followed by a scream

he rushes to the kitchen where his dimensional jump watch is on the ground in pieces, debris all over

and you're kneeling over it, trying to pick up the bigger pieces

"shit!" he yells, kneeling down and surveying the damage. "get away from that!"

"i'm sorry!" you cry, clearly shaken. "i-it was on the table and i hit it with my elbow-"

"i know- please don't- just let me-" miguel tries to gently usher you away, but you shake your head.

"it's my fault," you cut him off. "i'll clean it up-"

"I SAID GET AWAY! THIS COULD EXPLODE SO LET ME FUCKING HANDLE IT, ALRIGHT?!"

it stuns you into complete silence, making you flinch away and lean against the kitchen counter.

miguel sighs, running a hand through his hair.

"sorry." miguel says bluntly without looking up. "just- fuck- the last time this happened it broke my nose so don't touch anything-"

he pieces the parts of the watch together, brows furrowing when he sees the tiny projector panel is missing. "what? where's the-"

shaky hands place two broken pieces of the projector panel in his hands

his brows furrow when he sees there are specks of blood on your palms

and he realizes you were trying to fix it on your own :((

he looks up and you're staring up at him with tears in your eyes, your bottom lip wobbling as your breathing quickens and the tears stream down your cheeks.

"i-i'm sorry," you whisper, and his heart shatters

"amor-"

before he can react you stand up and flee to the bathroom

"oh no," miguel leaves the watch pieces right there on the floor and follows you

he finds you at the sink

running your hands through warm water as you cry quietly

miguel feels immense guilt for yelling at you

he wraps his arms around you from behind as he looks at you in the mirror

"bebita," he whispers. "let me help you..."

you're still looking down, avoiding his gaze, and he sighs, pressing a kiss to your neck.

"bebita, i'm sorry," he mumbled. "i was scared you'd get hurt, i didn't mean to yell at you..."

you sniffle, turning off the tap. "i messed up."

"we all do," he whispers. "i messed up too, you didn't deserve that, you were just trying to help."

you shake your head, turning to face him and showing him your palms filled with cuts. "yeah, n' look what happened."

"you think too lowly of yourself, cariño," he lifts you up on the counter, taking the first aid kit from the drawer and fishing out the tweezers, some cotton and some rubbing alcohol.

he presses a kiss to your lips. "i'm not mad at you for this. i want you to know that. i had no right acting like a jackass."

you laugh softly through tears, and he smiles sadly, taking your left hand and looking for your injuries

the next few minutes are completely silent as miguel picks out the tiny shards from your palms

he kisses each palm when he's done, then pours some alcohol on a cotton ball.

"bebita, this might sting a bit. take a deep breath for me."

you start sobbing, and he looks up at you.

"bebita, i haven't even put the alcohol-"

"i'm sorry," you whimper, crying harder, and his heart breaks again.

"amor," he leans in, brushing stray hair away from your face and thumbing at your tears.

"you're very pretty even when you cry, but please don't be sad..."

miguel pulls you into a hug and you let it all out while he shushes you softly, kissing your hair and whispering words of love

patiently waiting for you to come back to him, wiping away your tears and sniffling, looking up at him with a tentative expression.

miguel smiles. "there she is," he mumbles, kissing you sweetly. "nobody's mad anymore, i know you meant well, you always do."

he kisses your nose. "i love you."

"love you too," you whisper, and he smiles.

"do you want to watch a movie with me while i clean you up?"

"mhm."

"your pick, amor. anything you want, anything-"

"can we watch top gun?"

"no."

"but you said it was my choice!"

"anything but that! you know i hate top gun!"

"we watch top gun or im not cooking paella for a month"

"BEBITA POR DIOS!"

you giggle and he sighs.

"fine. you're lucky you're the love of my life... and that i dont know how to cook my own paella."

"how about this?" miguel lifts you up in a princess carry.

"i'll watch top gun with you WITHOUT complaining if you promise to never let me yell at you like that again."

you look at him in confusion. "but-"

"promise me." he whispers.

"okay," you nuzzle into his neck. "i promise."

"good. and remind me to eat you out more often im forgetting how good you taste ;)"

"MIGUEL!!"

[tardisblueten]

Just Like Heaven

NSFW 18+ ONLY!!!

Warnings/tags: Pantie sniffing, fingering, cunninglingus, fem!reader, male untouched orgasm in pants, ten loves eating pussy, very slight dom!reader moments.

Summary: You confront the Doctor about a strange stain on your laundry.

This is part 2 to Missing You. Enjoy and pls leave your thoughts!! <3

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The Doctor was lazily sprawled out on the bench near his Tardis control panel reading a book. His hearts felt warm with content to finally have you back after the longest week of his life. He could hear you humming a song in your Tardis bedroom that was down the hall. He grinned as he swiped his finger on his tongue and flipped the page. He felt safe and truly at home with the return of your presence. You had somehow successfully domesticated the feral stray that was the Doctor.

You unpacked your bags from your trip. You took your time to place your items back where they belonged. It felt good to be back with the Doctor. You missed him. You loved spending much needed time with your family, but you couldn't shake the overwhelming feeling that your heart belonged to the Doctor. Nothing could compare to the wonderful adventures and laughs you two shared together.

You happily strutted out of your bedroom to grab a laundry basket that was in another room. The Doctor caught your silhouette walking across in the corner of his vision. His eyes darted up from his book but you were suddenly gone. He continued reading for a few moments and you came back around. This time he looked up just in time. He smiled as he watched you—a little too hard—stroll back to your room with a clothing hamper full of freshly washed clothes in your hands. You looked as beautiful as ever to him. Even in your comfy sweatpants and all. Oh, how he missed having you around. His eyes once again returned to his page until the realization of what he just saw struck him like lightning. Both of his hearts dropped.

The regretful memories of what had occurred to your very personal laundry item a few nights ago flooded his mind. Shame and disgust made his cheeks blaze pink. His brown eyes were wide with worry. Worry that you may somehow find out about his horrible, dirty secret. The Doctor had made sure to toss your underwear into the washing machine after the incident--to discard of any of his evidence before you returned. But now his anxious brain couldn't stop fearing the worse.

You tossed the hamper onto your bed and started to fold and put away your clean clothing that was in it. Doing the laundry in the Tardis felt oddly domestic. Compared to the usual busy, hustling adventures the Doctor took you on, being still and just doing house chores with the Doctor lounging and reading just in the other room felt a bit strange. A comforting strange. A strange that made your belly do flips and your cheeks feel warm. It felt as if you were the Doctor's housewife. The silly idea made you grin coyly. As if the Doctor would ever have a housewife... Your mind continued to wander further; remembering those tense moments where you felt like just biting the bullet and leaning in to kiss his lips. You thought about how soft they must be. How blissful it would feel. It made your heart flutter. You wished he felt the same way towards you. You wished there was a way he could truly make you his wife.

You were so lost in your daydreaming while mindlessly folding your  freshly washed clothes that you almost didn't notice it. Laying in the laundry bin was a pair of your underwear. What broke your fantasizing was the unusually placed white stain on the burgundy fabric. You thought about it for a moment, considering it could have been from you. But the placement of the stain--on the gusset but also on the top near the hemline. There was just no way that was humanly possible. You remembered when you got back, the Doctor mentioned he generously did a load of your shared laundry while you were away. You tried to come up with any rational explanation to what this mysterious substance was- Maybe the Doctor spilled a drink on the clothes while he was doing the laundry? You pondered it for a moment while examining the white stain further. That had to be it.

You thought about asking the Doctor about it- But showing the man your weirdly stained underwear felt horribly inappropriate and embarrassing. What if the stain had come from you? But there was just no way. What if he really did spill something and maybe some of your other clothing now had stains on it as well. You wanted to clean it all as soon as you could. You wouldn't rest until you got an answer. You trotted into the control room where the Doctor was now sitting up, visibly on edge. His stare immediately jolted to the red underwear in your hands. His face fell cold with shock.

"Hey, Doctor," you apprehensively called to him. His eyes were wide. Something was off. Maybe you were right about this being completely inappropriate. But it was already too late now. He saw the panties--you at least had to explain yourself now. "I was folding my laundry and noticed a strange um, stain... on my underwear..." Your voice faded out with embarrassment. "I was just wondering-" You quickly added. "Did you spill anything on the clothes by accident when you were washing them?"

"Oh-" He barked. The awkwardness was overwhelming and you almost retreated. "Well, I-" He broke the silence. "Yes. Yes, I actually did spill a- something... while doing the laundry, actually. I'm very sorry about that. I can clean that up for you." He rambled nervously.

Something was definitely off. You knew he wasn't telling the truth. But why? What could he possibly be hiding? You towered over him as he cowered on the bench. You cocked your eyebrow suspiciously. The Doctor knew you knew. His brown eyes darted everywhere but yours. You tilted your head in silence, waiting for him to fess up.

The Doctor wanted to flee immediately. He hated lying to you more than anything, but he couldn't decide if confessing to his horrible invasion of your privacy would be any better. His guilty conscious was devouring him alive from the inside out. He just wanted to be free of all of this shame. He let out a deep sigh, "Fine."

You raised your eyebrows at him. He cowardly looked down at his hands in his lap. "It was me." He admitted. "I'm sorry."

"What do you mean?" You asked after a beat. You were utterly confused. What was he confessing to? The Doctor let out another sigh and an uncomfortable chuckle. "Well, I just missed you... a lot--when you were away and I-" He let out another scoff of embarrassment. Was he really admitting this to you? "I went into your room- just for a moment!- Just to... feel like you were with me again- and as I was leaving, well..." His cheeks were burning and his hearts were racing. Why was he still talking?

"Well I noticed you left something on your floor. So I went to pick it up and, um, realized it was your panties. And-" He let out a loud shaky breath as he ran his fingers through his tussled hair in attempt to calm himself. He might as well just spill it all now. "God- I was just so fucking horny." You were taken aback at the man's sudden boldness. "I was so fucking horny, Y/N, and I missed you so much. I-I wasn't in my right mind at all and for that I'm so fucking sorry. I did something really stupid that I shouldn't have." The Doctor looked like he was about to cry.

You stood there in shock, trying to take it all in. What?? You just stared at his red face with utter perplexity. Your heart thumped loudly in your chest. You also felt a response to his wild confession between your thighs too. This entire situation had to be a strange wet dream of yours. "What did you do, Doctor?" You whispered, a bit amused at the situation now. He laughed and threw his head into his hands. He came up, "Let's just forget about all of this, okay?" He shot to his feet. "I can clean those for you and-" he attempted to grab the panties from your grasp but you swatted him away before he could. "No." You swung the panties behind your back where he couldn't reach. "Tell me what you did to these." You teased him, now enjoying this. The Doctor froze. "No! No, lets just forget about this, okay?" He tried to stride past you but you stopped him with your free arm. You had this new found power over him and you both clearly liked it a little too much. "Tell me what you did." You repeated sternly now mere inches from his face. Your breath fell hot onto him and his pants shamefully grew tight. He could smell all of you once again from the new intimate proximity. Well--almost all of you.

He looked at you with furrowed brows before hastily averting his gaze. "Did you jerk off with my panties, Doctor?" You crassly hounded him. Part of you wanted to just laugh at this absurd situation you couldn't believe was really happening-- but you suppressed her and gladly let this new confidence take over you. He closed his eyes and sighed in defeat. "...Yes," He whispered. "I'm sorry I-I just missed you so fucking bad and you smelled so good and- I really did wash them for you but I guess the st-stain didn't wash out and-" he rambled on again. "Its okay, you know." You interrupted him and grinned mischievously. His eyes shot open and he looked at you with surprise. "I missed you too." The Doctor almost melted at your words. "Oh, I missed you so so bad, Y/N." He whimpered. You leaned in to slyly whisper in his ear playfully, "Well, you have me now." The Doctor gulped, "W-what do you mean?" He chuckled nervously. You giggled at his sudden feigned innocence.

"You have me now," you pushed him down onto the bench and confidently straddled his lap. "Why don't you show me what you did to my panties while I was away?" You loved this new power you held over him—what you did to him. It made you wet. The man let out a shaky moan and bit his lip. His hands were awkwardly in the air beside him, too scared to touch you. He didn’t know what to do now that his filthy wish was finally coming true. You threw his trembling palms down onto either side of your hips. "Show me," You handed him your burgundy panties that were still in your hands. He hesitantly took them from you, trying to shove away his embarrassment. He slowly pushed them to his nose. Watching the invasively erotic sight made your pussy twinge. He breathed in deep, ready to be hit with your intoxicating ambrosia, but of course, he only smelled the clean faintness of your detergent. He quietly groaned with disappointment. "What's wrong?" You asked. "It... It doesn't smell like you anymore." He whispered glumly, then chuckled at the crude absurdity of all of this. "What do I smell like?" You asked, familiar insecurity was starting to creep inside your new dominant persona. "Heaven," he replied.

You feverishly pressed your lips against his, wasting no time to finally feel his lips against yours. The Doctor gasped into your mouth. The kiss felt better than anything you could have ever fantasized. You felt sparks of electricity shoot all throughout your body. You couldn't believe this was actually happening and not just another dirty daydream of yours. If it was, you didn't ever want to wake up. Your fingers began to tangle themselves in his brunet hair as if the Doctor was about to fade away from reality. The passionate kiss quickly turned messy as you started to rock your hips onto his erection beneath you. You both jolted and moaned into the kiss as his hard cock would push against your clit just right. "I bet you taste even better," he groaned onto your lips. He tossed your stained panties on the bench. His now free hand snaked down to the waistline of your pants and his fingers immediately darted to your warm pussy. He was getting impatient. He slipped two fingers onto your clit. "Fuck, you're soaking." He whined desperately onto the delicate skin of your neck. You moaned loudly as he rubbed small circles and eventually slid two long digits into your slick entrance. He sluggishly pulled them out and hovered his fingers in front of his face as he admired the sight made of dreams. They were absolutely drenched in your arousal. The Doctor was nearly drooling. He put them in his mouth and began to suck on his fingers. "God, I was right," He moaned in ecstasy as he licked his lips for more. "You taste like fucking heaven, sweetheart."

You smiled drunkenly at the man as the fire between your thighs blazed heavier. The Doctor calling you 'sweetheart' wasn't a rare occurrence, but even in the midst of all of this, it didn't fail to make your heart soar out of your chest. "I think I need to get a better taste," he whispered darkly. Your cheeks burned pink. You could agree on that. You hurriedly stood up off of him and perched a leg on top of the bench he sat on. The Doctor watched mesmerized as you hastily rid yourself of your sweatpants and panties. His jaw fell slightly and his tongue poked out as he looked up at you with big, brown, pleading eyes. He needed this so, so bad. He would die a very happy man between your soft thighs. His hands eagerly gripped the outside of them as you used your hand to gently guide the back of his head to your pussy. You shuddered at the feeling of his hot breath on the place you needed him the most. You both let out a loud moan of relief at the feeling of his warm mouth finally finding you. His tongue darted to your sensitive clit and you both almost saw stars.

You tugged at his messy brown hair as his warm tongue slowly slid up and down your dripping cunt. He couldn't dare to waste a drop. He moaned into you which sent pleasurable vibrations everywhere—causing your body to shudder. You threw your head back as he happily lapped up all you had to graciously give him. His dick was painfully hard and straining against his striped trousers. The Doctor faintly rocked his hips in his seat just to feel more friction with his pants against his cock that was now pathetically dribbling precum. It didn't take long for you to notice his actions through your mind numbing rapture.

The man's moans were starting to match yours. You peered down at him with a sultry grin—he looked back up at you with his entreating eyes. His heavy moans were muffled by your pussy. Just seeing him getting off on eating you out made you get dangerously closer to the edge. The Doctor picked up his pace with his tongue, gently sucking on your clit, before matching the pace with his hips too. His chin was now completely drenched in your juice yet he never once stopped to wipe it off.

You felt a coil in your core growing tighter as you yanked him by the hair and shoved his face deeper into your cunt and began shamelessly riding his face. Through your intense pleasure you almost didn't notice the Doctor's weak yelps and whines into your pussy, or his erratic hip thrusts unevenly halting to a stop. The obscenity of it all immediately threw you over the edge. Your body convulsed as you surrendered to the intense waves of euphoria that took over you completely. "Do-Doctor," You cried out while grabbing onto his hair as his licking continued. Your powerful orgasm started to cool down yet the Doctor's tongue was in no rush to stop. Your trembling legs threatened to give out as you pushed him off your pussy.

He finally stopped and slowly pulled away. Clear strings of your arousal kept him connected to you as he looked up. His cheeks were rosy and his face was completely stained by you. He drunkenly smiled up at you as you both took a moment to catch your breaths. It was a sight that was almost enough to make you cum again right there.

You glanced down at the new wet stain on the crotch of his striped trousers. You loudly chuckled and threw your head back--trying to regain coherent thoughts. "Did-Did you just?-" You teasingly laughed at him. The Doctor was too intoxicated to care to be embarrassed at the fact that he came in his pants just from eating you out. You just grinned madly at him and took his sweaty face in your hands as you straddled his lap. You both shared a warm grin before you collapsed onto him, wrapping your weak arms around his damp body. You could die here--you thought to yourself.

This was heaven.

GUYS I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED THE ENTIRE DRAFT BUT BY SOME ABSOLUTE MIRACLE WAS ABLE TO RECOVER IT OMG HAHAA...

[lyssasdrafts]

the alchemy — azriel x reader

description: your friend just broke up with her boyfriend, asher. when you visit his house to ask for her things back, and to give him a piece of your mind, you run into his much better younger brother, azriel.

includes: modern au, azriel’s older brother (oc), mentions of cheating (not with azriel or y/n)

notes: i wrote this for @starsand 🤭🤭 go get your man girl 💕

(i also made up a male character for azriel’s brother since i didn’t wanna make cassian or rhysand a cheater 💔)

you stared at the house in front of you. you were definitely in one of the richer neighborhoods judging by your commute there. the house was larger than your friend had even described, with a gate and fountain blocking your full view. as beautiful as it was to look at, you still dreaded going in.

your friend had recently broken up with her first boyfriend, asher. unfortunately, you were currently standing in front of his house, waiting to talk to him. your friend had forced you to go back for her to ask asher to return her things she’d left behind. you already anticipated the awkward conversation that would arise, and how asher probably was not going to agree with you easily.

you slowly walked up to the gates of the house, noticing the security camera they had flashing its red light at you, before ringing the doorbell. you tap your foot impatiently, waiting for someone to answer. you realized the possibility that nobody was home, and while it would be great to not see asher today, you really didn’t want to return.

you could hear the sound of another car parking next to the house, turning around to see a small black car next to yours. in the distance, you watch someone step out of the car and walk up to you.

you prepare yourself to face your friends ex-boyfriend, but instead find yourself being approached by a taller man. he had the same eyes as asher, but he was different, he was handsomer. the first thing you noticed about him was his broad shoulders, with a book bag slung across his chest. he had dark hair that nearly brushed against his eyes, his hazel eyes stared at you while he looked down to reach your height.

“can i help you?” he raised an eyebrow, and you began wondering if you had been to the wrong house. this was definetly not asher.

“is asher shadowsinger here?” you ask, trying not to embarrass yourself. the man in front of you lets out a deep laugh, one that you didn’t even know he was capable of with such a cold demeanor.

“don’t tell me you’re here to see that asshole,” the man chuckles, “he’s my older brother.”

“oh,” you say. your friend had mentioned her boyfriend had a younger brother, but you’d never expected him to look like he came out of one of your romance books.

“he’s not home right now, but i can let you inside and you can wait,” asher’s brother steps closer to you, and for a moment you can feel your heart beating faster. he quirks an eyebrow at you, as he reaches for the wall behind you. he uncovers the security panel, pressing in the numbers to the passcode.

“i just unlocked the door,” he steps away from you as the gates automatically moved apart for you. “and you can call me azriel.”

you nod your head, thanking him as you walk past their front entrance. he follows a little behind you, leading you to their living room with a sleek couch with a large tv screen. you can���t help but notice the line of trophies on the shelf above that say “azriel shadowsinger” instead of his brother’s name. you wonder what they could’ve been for. the room is an open space connected to a large family room with a large dining table set. quite frankly, you were grateful that azriel had led you in since you likely would’ve gotten lost in this house that was more of a mansion. you sit down on the couch after he offers, and a look of concern flashed across azriel’s face.

“what are you really here for? and how long were you standing out there alone?” azriel asks while he takes off his bag, and you can’t help but notice how his shirt accidentally lifts a bit.

“i’m here because my friend walked in on her boyfriend, asher, kissing another girl.” you fold your arms, clenching your teeth unknowingly when you began to think about it. “and don’t worry, i just got here when you found me.”

azriel’s gaze shifts back to you, making your heart race once again. you look up at him, waiting for a response. would he take his brothers side? was he just as bad?

“asher told me his girlfriend broke up with him but he never talked about why,” azriel looked down. “he’s fucking dead when i get him.”

you chuckle, putting your arms up, “i don’t like him either. my friend sent me here to get her stuff back.”

“i can find it for you, it’s probably in his room,” azriel explains. “just stay here, okay? i’ll get whatever you need.”

you can’t help but give azriel a soft smile. he was nothing like his brother from what you could tell. asher had treated your friend like an asshole, and when she caught him cheating on her, that was the final straw. you hadn’t expected azriel to go against his brother’s actions. and honestly, you would’ve never even expected someone related to asher to be this attractive and caring.

azriel comes back, your friend’s hoodie and necklace in his hands. “i assume this is isn’t asher’s.”

you nod, taking it from azriel’s hands. he seems flustered at the contact, his eyes looking away when you brush hands. he sits next to you on the couch, keeping a pillow’s distance between the both of you.

“can i ask you something?” azriel says. you nod your head with a “yes”. he turns to face you, his hazel eyes staring down at your lips. you blink at him as he reaches for your hand again.

“if you’re not here for asher, does that mean i can have you?”

[uzurakis]

DEALING WITH A BROKEN HEART!

featuring: gojo satoru. itadori yuuji. megumi fushiguro. nanami kento.

how they would comfort you after you’re rejected by your crush! (requested)

n. didn’t proofread n i wrote this at midnight cz i still hafta catch up on my reqs. i’m only a hooman guys!! so pls sorry for any typos or mistakes ajhauns and i specifically chose this manga panel 4 OBVIOUS reasons . .

GOJO SATORU. “wanna know what i’m thinking?” he started, glancing at you from the corner of his eye, “it’s their loss! obviously, they don’t have great taste.”

you managed a weak smile, shaking your head. “thanks, satoru. but it still . . hurts.”

gojo leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and giving you a serious look that was rare for him. “look, i get it. rejection sucks. but honestly, you’re way out of their league.”

then you raised an eyebrow, unable to hold back a small laugh. “really? you think so?”

he nodded emphatically, his usual smirk returning. “duh, absolutely. i mean, who wouldn’t want to be with someone as amazing as you? they’re probably just too intimidated by your awesomeness.”

you rolled your eyes, but the humor in his words did frankly lift your spirits a bit. “you’re just saying that.”

“nope, i’m dead serious.” gojo straightened up, putting a hand over his heart. “in fact, i’m starting to think i should be worried. you’re gonna have a line of people trying to win you over, and i’ll have to fend them all off.”

ITADORI YUUJI. “hey,” he said softly, nudging your shoulder with his. “c’mere, i feel you need a hug.”

you looked up at him, your eyes misty, and saw the genuine care in all over, very clear midst his expression. without a word, you leaned into him, and he wrapped his strong arms around you, holding you close. the warmth of his embrace began to melt the icy sadness in your heart.

“i’m really sorry,” he whispered, voice gentle. then he pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. “but you don’t have to go through this alone. let’s do something together to take your mind off things. how about a movie night?”

a small smile tugged at your lips despite the tears. “a movie night?”

“yeah!” he said, his pupils lighting up. “we can watch whatever you want. comedy, action, even those cheesy romance movies you love.”

you laughed a little at that, appreciating his attempt to lift your spirits. “hmm okay, that sounds good.”

“great!” he stood up, offering you his hand. “and don’t worry, i’ll bring all the snacks. we’ll have a proper movie marathon!”

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. “um, do you want to talk about what happened?” megumi asked softly, his voice steady and inviting. “it might help to get it off your chest.”

you sighed as you felt the sting of tears threatening to fall. “i don’t even know where to start,” mumbling the words above a murmur.

“that’s okay. just take your time. i’m here to listen.”

for a moment, the two of you sat in silence. it wasn’t uncomfortable, though. it was the kind of silence that felt like a warm embrace, giving you space to collect your thoughts. you glanced up at the sky, searching for the right words.

“they just . . didn’t feel the same way,” you finally said, voice cracking. “i thought there was something there, but i guess i was wrong.”

his gaze softened. “rejection is hard,” he then said quietly. “but it doesn’t define you. it doesn’t change who you are or your worth.”

finding comfort in his steady presence, you looked at him. “i just feel so stupid for thinking there was a chance.”

“you’re not stupid,” the guy replied firmly. “you took a chance, and that takes courage. it’s okay to feel hurt, but don’t let this make you doubt yourself.”

NANAMI KENTO. after a moment, nanami broke the silence. “you deserve someone who sees how incredible you are. this just wasn’t the right person.”

you glanced up at him, but your eyes filled with tears. “but it felt like they were the right person,” you said, voice trembling. “how could i have been so wrong?”

in a moment, his face softened, nanami’s usual stoic demeanor giving way to concern. “it’s not about being wrong. sometimes, people just aren’t capable of seeing what’s right in front of them. you have so much to offer. one day, someone will see that and appreciate you for who you are.”

“it just hurts so much right now.”

he nodded, understanding. “it’s completely normal to feel this way. anyone would be upset. it’s a natural reaction to a difficult situation.”

you took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. “i just don’t know what to do next.”

nanami leaned forward, his eyes earnest. “then take your time to heal. focus on yourself and what makes you happy. you’re strong, and you’ll get through this.”

@uzurakis

[wing-ed-thing]

Late Night Study Session (Trafalgar Law x Reader)

Synopsis: You've been studying day and night all week. You can't help but goof off a little.

Word Count: 1.7k

Tags/Warnings: No Reader Pronouns, College AU, Suggestive Language

Notes: I didn't think it'd be here but it's here

“Are you an appendix? Because I have a gut feeling I should take you out.”

”Jesus Christ.”

You thought you just about broke him, your hysterical laugh turning into a wheeze as Law buried his face in his hands. You sat in the study room together. Just about the size of a large closet, the walls of the room were covered in whiteboards. A table, now littered with your laptops and hand-written papers, sat in the center with a large, fancy power strip. 

Law’s coffee sat amongst the empty take-out containers. The caffeinated drinks you had imbibed only contributed to the chaotic table. A warm light glowed overhead, glaring at Law’s scribbles on the whiteboard walls. It glowed a bit brighter than the light panels on the ceiling outside, the motion-activated sensors having dimmed when the new, expensive science building vacated long ago. 

You and Law had your last final together, which unfortunately fell on the last day of finals before move-out. A more advanced anatomy class, your test would encompass all the material you had covered since week one. Of course, this didn’t include the online modules that weren’t covered in class but would also be on the test. Even more, unfortunately, your final exam would make up forty percent of your overall grade. 

Quizzes, notes, and study guides from previous tests sat in a haphazard order across the table, over your empty seats, and pinned to the whiteboards like a detective’s evidence board. Pen ink smudged across the crinkled pages, and a patch of eraser dust lived on the table no matter how many times you tried to brush it away.

You were sure you were the only ones occupying a study room at the hour it was. You had practically been living out of it for the past week in preparation for finals. 

“Are you a heart surgeon? Because I get tachycardia whenever I see you.”

”It’s probably that abomination you’ve been sipping on all night.” Law gestured to one in your small army of drinks. You conjured up a concoction that contained just too much caffeine and sugar. “That stuff will kill you someday.” 

“If it gets me a passing grade, I’ll take ten,” you sighed, perusing a stapled packet of printed questions. You stopped at a page in the middle of the thick collection, taking a moment to think. “You can fill my… caudate nucleus with dopamine anytime.” 

You grinned, looking up at Law, whose already hooded gaze appeared even more narrow. His hand ran across his face, massaging the skin around his eyes. 

“You’ve officially lost it.”

”I lost it a few hours ago; let’s be real.” 

Law paid you little mind, shuffling around his notes before rearranging them in reverse order. For as rapidly as his eyes glanced over them, you knew Law was at his limit. There were only so many times you could look at the same collection of letters scrambled together before your brain fried, and frankly, you and Law had likely overstayed your time in the study room trying to push yourselves. 

You just weren’t afraid to know when it was time to give up.

”Are you a femur? Because you’re… you’re the largest bone in the human body.”

”That one doesn’t even make sense,” Law mumbled, still not entirely focusing on his notes despite his unmoving gaze. “The brachial plexus is formed by the anterior rami of the spinal nerves C5 to T1,” Law recited, a bit of forced certainty laced in his voice. 

“Yeah,” you hummed, playing with a pen and an empty coffee cup. 

“And the median nerve innervates the flexor muscles and the thenar muscles in the hand,” Law spoke definitively, crossing off a point of your massive study guide.

”And?”

Law glanced up at you.

”What do you mean ‘and’?” 

“Forearm. It’s mostly the median nerve you’re gonna lose points if you don’t also mention—”

“Ulnar. Fuck.”

Law threw his packet on the table. He hadn’t been this sloppy when you started that afternoon. But since you took a break to eat dinner— you were sure dinners with you in the study room were the only full meals Law had since the finals crunch began— studying had been futile. 

You had about eighty percent of the material sort of under your belt, but even that was shaky, considering the doomed format of your exams. No one in your class (or any of the other sections) received a passing grade during the midterm, and you were more than sure that even the study guide was a rough basis for what would actually be on the exam. 

“Maybe it’s about time we’ve turned in for the night,” you said quietly. 

Law had thrown his head back as he slumped over the table. A hand covered his eyes. His chest heaved a deep breath. 

The final was a lot of material, almost an impossible amount. You were on your own when it came to studying— the study guide (if you could even call it that)— was a miracle in and of itself. 

You knew that no matter how much you studied, you were bound to come across some curveball question about some obscure minutia you read about once. But Law, on the other hand, Mr. 52/100 on the midterm himself, was as stressed as ever. It didn’t matter that 52 was the highest score across all three sections; he was absolutely beside himself.

“Maybe,” he affirmed. Law would never tell you outright if you were right, even as he began to gather his things. 

You also began gathering your things, discarding your trash in the can, and sweeping your written notes unceremoniously back into plopped binders in your backpack. You finished moments before Law and waited by the door.

The bags under his eyes were more severe than usual, and he carried himself like his body was heavy. Law slouched a bit under the weight of his backpack but ultimately joined you at the door, grabbing it from your grasp to head out together.

You weren’t entirely sure why Law insisted on your study sessions to begin with. As serious and studious as he was, you were sure he had some rigorous study strategy he’d want to do alone. But ultimately, Law insisted that you study together and hardly gave you a choice in the matter. Given how much he talked to himself, you assumed he just wanted a warm body to bounce things off of. 

“Are you an ulnar nerve? Because you’ve got me feeling all the right sensations in my hands and my heart.” You placed your hands over the left side of your chest as you made your way out of the building. 

As you anticipated, the halls were quiet, and your voice bounced off the tiles. The motion-activated lights took a moment to flicker as the two of you passed. The sky outside the windows you walked by was pitch black, and the paths were illuminated only by the campus street lights. 

Law shook his head as the most subtle snort of amusement left his nose. His mouth scrunched together to contain his subtle laugh, but the motion was just enough to brighten his demeanor. The energy around you rose like a breath of fresh air had just wafted through. 

“You’re terrible at those,” Law said, holding the door for you as you stepped outside. 

The night air was cool when you left the building, being just chilly enough to prickle your skin. The streetlights lit up a fair amount of campus, illuminating your path back to the dorms. The door to the science building shut behind you, officially locking you out of the building. 

“Like you could do any better!” you laughed, clutching your backpack straps as you stepped out in front of Law. You pivoted on your heel, only to notice he hadn’t moved. You met his dark eyes with a crinkle of your forehead. 

Your face fell in confusion, which only mounted as Law took two wide strides to close the gap between you. Without warning, his hand found the underside of your face, cupping it firmly to tilt toward his. His other hand was shoved in the pocket of his coat. Your breath hitched as he leaned in.

“Wanna exchange genetic material?”

“Law!” you gasped, nearly shrieking his name in surprise, as your first instinct was to roughly shove him away as heat rose under your skin. You stumbled a few steps down the path, trying desperately to hide the embarrassing expression that graced your face. And when you did turn back to look at him— in sheer astonishment— Law was proudly wearing a pursed-lipped smirk.

“You’re the one who challenged me,” Law hummed with an amused bounce of his brows. He followed as you began in the direction of the dorms. 

“I’d hardly call that an anatomy-themed pickup line!” you exclaimed, your voice a pitch higher than usual. Law reached for your sleeve, a shine in his eyes as he slowed your pace. You kept backing up down the path, playfully tugging him along. Law rolled his eyes.

“Is too. You’re just embarrassed that I made you all flustered—”

“You’re just embarrassed that I trounce you at anatomy-themed pickup lines!”

You hardly finished your sentence before Law used the grip on your hand to his advantage, twirling you around into his arms, backpack and all. The movement felt bulky and heavy to you, but Law kept control over your movements, once again trapping you in proximity.

You lost your voice in your throat as you stared into his dark irises. They appeared even darker in the dim lighting, like the glinting gaze of a leopard as nocturnal bugs chirped around you. He raised a brow, his face swiveling cockily as he delivered his line.

“You wanna learn some real anatomy?” 

“Get outta here!” 

You pressed your palm to his forehead, playfully shoving his head back as Law relinquished you as you covered your hand with your face. Law grabbed your sleeve again, moving in front of you to tug you back to the dorms. 

Maybe he won that round after all, but you’d never tell him that. 

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

"I was pretty sure you'd sleep in and forget to meet me this morning" “Wouldn't have forgotten if I was sleeping with you" “But look at this.. Jesus.. look at this outfit" vibes

[kissandtellus]

Flight Plan: Bad Ending

Synopsis: Part 2, to my previous Fic. Caleb can’t always keep his promises. The Spring banner for Caleb broke me and I couldn’t help but think of ‘what if’ worse scenario.

Warnings: Major character loss, grieving, bittersweet fluff.

"Vixen, come on baby... don't fail me now," he muttered, his hands flying over the damaged controls as the jet sputtered and groaned. The Deepspace had taken a heavy toll on her systems. "Y/n would kill me if I crashed you..."

Suddenly, a loud alarm blared through the comms system. "Colonel, this is Captain Harris. Your jet is severely damaged and cannot maintain flight. You need to eject immediately. Do you copy?" The captain's voice was stern, leaving no room for argument. "Caleb, answer me."

Caleb couldn’t leave all of the photos and notes of Y/n. He pressed the small projector on the portable USB, photos of him and Y/n popping up as the fighter jet slowly lost control under his fingertips.

If he was going to die, he wanted her to be his last memory.

"Negative, Captain," he replied, his voice barely audible over the whining of Vixen's engines. His fingers traced over the console where hundreds of your messages and photos were stored. "Can't abandon her. Not like this..." He knew he was being irrational, but seeing your face everywhere in this cockpit...

God, Y/n... if I'm going down, at least I'll die looking at your face," he whispered to himself, the projector casting soft images of you two laughing, kissing, arguing... every memory they shared playing out like a movie in front of him as Vixen spiraled towards the ground.

The fighter jet hit the ground with a deafening crash, sending debris flying in all directions. Caleb was thrown forward, his head striking the control panel with a sickening thud. As darkness claimed him, the last thing he saw was your smiling face on the broken projection, a memory from the damaged screen.

"...Pip...squeak..." his voice trailed off softly as blood trickled down his forehead. The fire from the crash started to spread, consuming what was left of Vixen. Through the crackle of flames, she seemed to hum a faint melody - your favorite song that he'd programmed into her sound system.

~

Y/n scrunched her nose up as Caleb saw the playlist he had programmed into Vixen’s board. It sounded so light and airy coming from just a dangerous fighter jet. “Is that not corny?”

He chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Shut up," He teases, pulling her into a hug. "It's not corny if it reminds me of my favorite person." He sets the playlist as the default for takeoff and landing.

Besides, it's kinda perfect for takeoff. Gentle... then something that makes your heart rise." His fingers trace her jawline softly. "Just like you." He starts humming the melody from her favorite song, making her laugh. "See? Not corny at all."

He smiles, his eyes softening. "I remember everything about you, even the little things. Like how this song used to make you smile, even on the worst days. And how you'd always hum it when you thought I wasn't listening." He leans in, kissing her forehead gently.

Y/n can’t help the smile that rises to her face. “Alright fine…weirdo.” She mumbles, patting the side of Vixen’s wing. “So what happens if she ever goes down. Do you have any safety measures installed?”

"Of course. Vixen is equipped with the best emergency systems. Ejection seat for immediate escape if needed, Parachutes hidden throughout, Emergency locator beacon. And most importantly," He taps his chest, where the ever present dog tags lay.

“Me. I'm the most important safety measure. I know this bird inside out. If something goes wrong, I'll get us out of it." He winks at her, trying to lighten the mood. "Don't worry about Vixen. She's tough, just like you."

But Y/n isn’t entirely convinced.

“If something were to ever happen to you. How would I know? Is there a sign you can give me, even beyond the grave…” she whispers it out like it’s hearsay to even consider Caleb never coming back again.

His expression turns serious, almost solemn as he looks at her with intense eyes. Reaching out, he gently grabs both of her hands in his own calloused ones. "If something ever happens where I can't come back... there'll be two things."

“First, you'll feel it. You'll know in your heart that something's wrong. That's the connection we have, Y/n. It's unbreakable." He pauses, squeezing your hands gently. "Second, if I can't come back to you physically...”

His thumb tilts her chin up to gaze into those purple orbs she fell in love with again every single day.

“I'll leave you a sign. Something only you'll understand. It'll be a message from me, from beyond, to let you know, to let you know that I'm still with you, in a way." His thumb brushes over her engagement ring, his voice dropping to a whisper.

“Remember when we went camping as kids? Under that old sycamore tree? I carved our initials there. If something happens look for them. Look for the carved initials. That'll be me, reminding you I'm still there. Still loving you.”

~

Y/n stood at the gravesite, a place she’d been avoiding ever since Caleb died the first time around. Her heart ached, no, no it was shattered, there was nothing left to break.

She laid fresh flowers on Caleb’s headstone, slowly standing to brush off a leaf that had landed on top.

“You idiot…you fool…” she quietly cursed. “This was supposed to be our second chance….” The leaf brushed away on the wind. Y/n’s eyes followed it, until it collided with an old tree trunk.

Her eyes widened at the rough carvings. Their initials.

Her’s and Caleb’s, fresh on the tree. She felt her knees buckle, there was no way.

If she strained her ears enough in the quiet graveyard, she could almost hear him.

“I’ve got ya Pipsqueak…”

Previous Part <-

[aquaholicsanonymousworld]

Bad habit part 2 when?

NOW EEEP!

Worse Habit

Pairing: Warren Kole x Actress!Reader

Author's Note: Thank you for liking Bad Habit and wanting a pt2. I'm so obsessed with Warren rn LMAO.

You weren’t supposed to sit next to him.

The seating chart at the Yellowjackets fan panel had been finalized weeks ago. You were meant to be sandwiched between Sophie and Courtney, safe in the bubble of your younger co-stars who knew exactly how to keep your not-so-secret crush on Warren Kole in check with teasing and winks.

But of course, the event coordinator shuffled the lineup last minute, and now you were sitting directly beside him, the heat of his body radiating through the inch of space between your chairs like it was by design.

He looked good, as always. Crisp dark button-up, sleeves rolled halfway, hair a little tousled in a way that looked accidental but probably wasn’t. He smelled like cedar and clean soap, and it was doing bad things to your resolve.

You hadn’t seen him since the afterparty. The cigarette. The kiss. The way you had both agreed, breathless and shaky, that it was a one-time thing.

You hadn’t believed it then. You definitely didn’t believe it now.

“You okay?” he leaned over to murmur as the moderator adjusted their mic. His voice was soft, low enough for only you to hear.

You kept your eyes trained on the crowd. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Warren gave a half-shrug, that knowing little smirk tugging at his mouth. “You’ve been looking at anything but me.”

“That’s because I’m trying not to be obvious,” you muttered, just as the moderator welcomed everyone and the audience broke into applause.

He laughed under his breath.

—

Halfway through the panel, someone in the crowd asked a question that made your blood run cold.

“If you could date one of your castmates in real life, who would it be?”

The usual laughter broke out. The younger girls started yelling fake names and teasing each other.

Then Liv, sweet, evil Liv, leaned into her mic with a grin.

“Well, I would say Warren, but he’s already taken—by her.” She tilted her chin toward you with theatrical flair.

The crowd whooped. Your jaw clenched.

Warren let out a quiet “Jesus,” shaking his head with a hand over his mouth. You gave Liv the finger behind your water bottle, which only made her snicker louder.

The moderator laughed nervously. “You two don’t even have scenes together, right?”

“Nope,” Liv chimed. “And yet the tension is Oscar-worthy.”

You wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

Warren, to his credit, looked only mildly amused and not at all fazed. “She’s a lot younger than me,” he said into the mic with a dry smile.

“Exactly,” Sophie quipped, “which is why it’s so funny watching her short-circuit when he walks in a room.”

The audience roared.

You rolled your eyes, crossing your legs and leaning back with an unimpressed glare that didn’t quite mask your blush.

—

Later that night, back at the hotel bar, you nursed your second gin and tonic with one leg slung over the edge of the booth, scrolling half-heartedly through your phone.

“Is this seat taken?”

You didn’t even need to look up. That voice was already burned into your bones.

“I’m not sharing my fries,” you said coolly.

Warren slid into the booth across from you anyway. “Didn’t ask for fries.”

He looked more relaxed now—jacket gone, top buttons undone. His eyes lingered on you a little too long, and it did something reckless to your chest.

“You survived the panel without murdering Liv,” he said.

“Barely.”

“She’s not wrong, you know.”

You blinked. “About what?”

His voice dropped. “The tension.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest, but you kept your face neutral. “You said it yourself—I’m too young for you.”

Warren leaned in slightly, his fingers wrapping around his glass. “I said that to the crowd. Not to you.”

You exhaled slowly. “Then say something to me now.”

He stared at you like he was trying to memorize you, and something in your gut told you he already had.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about that night,” he said softly.

You didn’t answer. You just slid out of the booth.

Warren followed without hesitation.

—

The elevator ride was quiet, both of you standing on opposite sides like two magnets fighting the urge to snap together. You could feel the tension humming in the air—sharp, hot, inevitable.

When the doors opened, you walked to your room without speaking. You reached for your key card with trembling fingers.

He stopped you with a hand on your wrist.

“Are you sure?”

You turned to face him, lips parted. “You already know the answer.”

Then his mouth was on yours.

It wasn’t like the alley outside the premiere. This was slower, deeper. A kiss that tasted like a secret and felt like a promise. His hands cradled your face like you were something precious. Yours curled into the fabric of his shirt like you were terrified he’d change his mind.

You stumbled into your room together, kissing between steps, and when he pressed you against the door with a soft groan, you let yourself forget the headlines, the age gap, the judgment. Just for tonight.

—

Morning crept in too soon.

You woke before he did, the golden light casting soft shadows over his bare shoulder as he slept beside you. You should’ve felt guilty. Ashamed. But all you felt was stillness. And something warm blooming in your chest you refused to name.

You slipped out of bed, dressed quietly, and grabbed your phone off the nightstand.

There were already texts from Liv and Sophie—blatant emojis, thinly-veiled jokes, and a blurry photo of you and Warren talking at the bar with “that’s not nothing” captioned underneath.

Your fingers hovered over your phone for a long moment before you typed:

You said it was one time. I don’t think we can lie to ourselves like that again.

You paused.

Then deleted it.

Instead, you typed:

We need to stop.

Warren replied five minutes later.

I don’t think I can.

And just like that, you knew this wasn’t going to be something you could bury.

[youngbounty]

Okay, out of all the things people are complaining about this story (and I am planning to review this so believe me when I say there are problems), Damian’s line right here is what you guys have a problem with?

For those complaining about Jason having one night stands, have you never read any issue of Red Hood and the Outlaws. This is referencing Jason’s lovers being short lived and YES Jason has canonly had one night stands. Literally the first time he met Starfire was on an island naked as a jaybird (no pun intended) and she offered him sex, because it is how she got to know people at the time.

The comic was during the New 52 era and yeah they were being weird with Starfire in the first couple of issues with her being in bed with Roy and sorta Jason, BUT he has had one night stands in that comic. Two of them at least. One of the girls he had a one night stand with got dragged into a spaceship with him when he and the Outlaws were fighting an intergalactic war before she kicked the bucket.

Now, do I like it? Eh… they really did place Starfire OOC in the New 52, but she was dealing with a broken heart in her own way. As for Jason, he was still Jason just as he is in this comic. He just happens to enjoy one night stands when he’s lonely. Also, he never had one night stands in the Rebirth Outlaws since he was in a relationship with Artemis. He also got into a relationship with Rose in Zdarsky’s Batman I guess? Personally, I still consider his relationship with Artemis to be canon.

Point is, complaining about Damian claiming Jason has only one night stands is the most nothing burger to complain about rofl. What? You think Jason would never have one night stands? You think he never had? You think Zatanna never wiped out Batman’s memories so the rest of the Justice League can play Operation with Dr. Light? You think Billy’s Captain Marvel was never accused of pedophilia by the Justice League because he was in a relationship with Stargirl? ROFL you sweet summer child.

In all seriousness, Damian claiming Jason only goes for one night stands isn’t OOC for him and it’s so normalized in DC that the only character over 18 I’d be surprised has ever had a one night stand is Superman. Personally, I thought Damian’s line was funny, because HE’S NOT WRONG. You might as well complain about Tim being a cheating bastard too.

Here’s a tear jar for you 🫙 I don’t know what to tell you.

As for the other complaints, no Damian saying Stephanie is “too female” isn’t misogynist. Most girls go to other girls for dating advice and not guys for the same reason (too male in this case). Damian is only looking for advice from a guy’s perspective, because yes guys vs girls dating have different expectations. Blame it on our cultural society or whatever, but it is what it is. Both genders are guilty of this, because it’s expected from homosexual relationships too.

No, there is nothing wrong with Damian going to Tim for dating advice. It makes the most sense actually. Damian even broke it down in this one.

Damian’s a little shit and will say things in the most mean way possible. I thought that scene was funny, because as I’ve said DAMIAN IS NOT WRONG rofl. I laughed my ass off reading that.

Co’mon guys, let Tim and Damian have their story. We hardly ever see them working together, helping the other or hell getting along. If you’re going to complain or cry about something, at least find something that actually is placing a character OOC. For all we know, Damian could just be saying that just to be a little shit and it’s not like Jason and Stephanie never showed up or got to be a shit back at Damian.

Lolz god this comic is funny. Red Hood’s outfit made my day and Steph kicking Damian’s ass was 😘

I will be reviewing the comic as I’ve said. You can find its entirety in my profile if you scroll down a bit. I’m hoping that those complaining about that one panel in the comic didn’t read it. If so, the entire comic is available on here and I’ve reposted. Read it before nitpicking on nothing burgers.

[hyperfixationcenter]

My full review on the Eltingville Club comics

After a long month of work I've decided to treat myself to read ALL of Eltingville Club, overall this was one of the funniest and saddest comics I've seen AND BEFORE I START!! If your new to the fandom or haven't found a place to read it: https://batcave.biz/27970-the-eltingville-club-2016.html have fun!!

Alright, this is a long one so if you love extensive overviews your in luck!

My favorite moments ੈ✩‧₊˚ Jerry being geeked out is really funny to me

THE WAY THEY LOCK IN 😭

Josh being a bisexual for a panel

I actually love jerry in a hoodie he looks so cutie

Good to know that Pete knows how to read

Me listing off my hyperfixiations to make me feel better

Idk why but Pete's reaction is so funny to me 😭

For some reason Joe looks way better in the comics, still a dick head tho

A moment of clarity for the boys

Common Josh L 😭

fuck'n 😮

Top 10 moments before disaster

THE ZONEEE

Josh being an absolute hater

The slow decline of man

Greedo318 gotta be my favorite character

Bill being a classic manipulative little shit

The one time Josh and Bill actually team up 😭

PREACH PETE!

You wont like me when I'm angry ahh Bill 😭

This Fan, This Monster ੈ✩‧₊˚

One of the most saddest chapters and the one that absolutely broke my heart as much as anyone who's read this comic.

Now we know what happened to Iron Jaw

It was kinda sad seeing Bill in shock that Joe isn't really that cool

I feel SO BAD for the geek girl

Its nice to see Pete stand up for the others

THE INFAMOUS FIGHT SCENE!!

PETEEEE MY KINGGG 😭😭😭

The most HEARTWRENCHING PANEL OF MY LIFE

My Overview ੈ✩‧₊˚

They just wanted to enjoy friends who liked the same things they did but power and greed can corrupt anyone and so manipulative minds that were raised from broken families learn that if your not at the top your nothing in this life. I understand that people have hyperfixiations and obsessions but what happens when someone loves something so much they lose what they have in their real life.

Many times mentioned in the comic people who were ex fans tell Bill to repent and stray away from his fandom that has corrupted him and twisted him into a man with no soul for anything else than a lust and hunger for things that aren't even real.

It does show a real harsh lesson of obsession and how far people will go to achieve such heights. The eltingville club was a very funny comic but the end made me think for a minute about how people like to go so far for things they can't achieve, in doing so destroying their own lives. I feel we could learn a lesson from this comic, weather it be about obsession, relationships, and oppressing sexuality to keep a quota. I loved this comic, and now to read the epilogue.

STAY TUNED FOR THE NEXT POST!

ELTINGVILLE CLUB FAN OUT!!! 📕

[aventurineswife]

Hello! Can I request Jing Yuan and Himeko (if you take requests for her) with a teen!reader that slipped up and accidentally called them mom/dad? You can add some other characters if you want to but those were the 2 I thought of

Between Mentorship and Family

Tags: Jing Yuan x Reader, Himeko x Reader, Teen!Reader, Mentorship, Found Family, Slip of the Tongue, Parental Figures, Light Humor, Emotional Comfort, Platonic Relationships, Apologies.

A/N: HIMEEEEKOOOO!!! 🏃‍♀️🗣️🔥🤭🥰❤️

[Aventurine ver] | Part 3

The quiet hum of the Luofu’s command center was a comforting backdrop as you worked diligently, reviewing reports Jing Yuan had assigned you. His eyes observed from his chair, where he sat with his typical relaxed posture, his fingers idly petting the tassel of the scroll at his side.

Jing Yuan had always been a figure of strength and wisdom in your life. His calm demeanor, strategic mind, and rare flashes of humor made him feel more like a guiding figure than just a leader. It was only natural you looked up to him, even more so when he took you under his wing as an apprentice among the Cloud Knights.

"How are the reports coming along?" Jing Yuan’s voice broke through your thoughts, deep and soothing, as he leaned forward with a smile.

"I-I'm almost done, sir," you stammered, nerves getting the better of you under his gaze.

“Good, good,” he said with a chuckle. “No need to rush. Take your time; careful analysis is better than speed.”

His words felt like a fatherly reassurance, and without thinking, you blurted out, “Thanks, Dad—I mean, General! Sir!” You froze, the slip sending your cheeks ablaze.

Jing Yuan paused, his sharp eyes widening in surprise before a deep laugh rumbled from his chest. “Dad, you say? I must admit, that’s a first.” He leaned back in his chair, clearly amused.

“I-I didn’t mean it! It just slipped out!” You waved your hands, flustered beyond belief.

He raised a hand to calm you. “Relax, little one. I find it endearing. I suppose after all the lessons and guidance, I’ve earned a bit of that sentiment, haven’t I?”

You nodded hesitantly, still embarrassed. Jing Yuan stood and approached, placing a steady hand on your shoulder. “I don’t mind being seen that way by someone as promising as you. But remember, as much as I’ll guide you, I also expect you to grow into your own. The Cloud Knights need more than just my shadow.”

His words settled your nerves, and you managed a small smile. “Thank you, sir. I mean… Dad?”

Jing Yuan chuckled again, his golden eyes warm. “Just don’t let the others hear you call me that. They might get ideas.”

[Header credits]

The Astral Express hummed softly as it hurtled through the cosmos, the stars outside the window painting a canvas of endless wonder. Himeko stood at the control panel, her usual calm poise radiating warmth and reassurance. You were seated nearby, pretending to work on a maintenance task but mostly stealing glances at her.

Himeko had always been a source of inspiration for you—her elegance, intelligence, and unyielding kindness made her feel like more than just a mentor. She was the heart of the Express, and sometimes, she felt like the heart of your small, scattered family aboard.

“Need help with that?” she asked, catching your distracted state.

“N-no, I’ve got it!” you replied quickly, fumbling with the tools in your hands. You felt her presence as she approached, her hair catching the light as she leaned closer to inspect your work.

“You’re doing great,” she said, her voice gentle. “Just be patient with yourself. Growth takes time.”

“Thanks, Mom,” you said instinctively before freezing, your eyes going wide. “Wait, I didn’t mean—oh no, I—”

Himeko blinked in surprise, then let out a soft laugh that echoed like a melody. “Mom, hmm? That’s a first for me,” she teased, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—it just slipped out!” you stammered, utterly mortified.

She knelt down beside you, resting a hand on your shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. If anything, I’m flattered. It’s not every day I get to be called that.”

You glanced at her, hesitant. “Really?”

“Really,” she said warmly. “If thinking of me as a mother figure helps you feel more at home here, then I don’t mind at all. The Astral Express is more than just a ship—it’s a family. And families look out for each other.”

Her words soothed your embarrassment, and you managed a small smile. “Thanks, Himeko… Mom?”

She grinned. “I could get used to that. Just don’t let March or the others hear that; they might get jealous.”

You both laughed, the moment easing into a newfound sense of comfort and belonging aboard the Express.

[stone-stars]

[ID: A five page comic, centered on Aryox as he has a dream of Melora's future as a goddess. ID in alt text, and full description under the cut.]

@operationslipperypuppet hi alli.

higher than you'd think, apparently! um.... happy hoglidays, merry crickmas, i don't think i've laughed harder than when i saw the little message pop up that said my giftee was you, and i'm sorry for lying to you for a month.

this gift is in two parts. this comic, and the accompanying fic, which i've posted here! i hope you enjoy both, i'm really glad i got to make something about our guys. thank you for being a wonderful friend <3

for the @naddpodgifting exchange!

[ID: A five page comic, centered on Aryox as he has a dream of Melora's future as a goddess. Everything is drawn in bright colored outlines against a black background.

First page. Aryox (in light blue) opens his eyes slowly. Mist cuts across the top of the page behind the panels. The bottom half of the page is frameless, and shows Aryox standing at the base of steps leading up to a large temple, with mist swirling around it. Green vines wrap around the temple, with everything else being drawn in Aryox's blue.

Next page. Aryox walks up the steps of the temple, his hand briefly resting on one of its columns next to a green vine, then snaps his fingers and summons a light which he raises above his head, parting the mist. He stares into the distance, where within the mist a pale green light shines back. Grinning, he remarks "towards the light, then. Morbid." The next sequence shows Aryox walking through the temple, the edges of each panel just the columns of the temple itself. By the second, faint speech bubbles appear in the background. One is unreadable and yellow, and then in the third, as Aryox steps off-panel behind the column, a green text box faintly says "i'm sorry". Aryox stops and turns, saying "hello." Then a yellow (for Telaine) speech bubble appears isolated, reading "So THAT'S how little WE mean to YOU?" Aryox looks shocked, then looks away as his light extinguishes, looking hurt and guilty, and turns away. He marches forward as a green speech bubble (for Melora) echoes behind him: "how could you…"

The entire next page shows Aryox walking, then running through the mist, with speech bubbles and words echoing all around him. They start more spaced out, but by the end of the page crowd and overwhelm him. First, he walks with purpose. A text box in his blue shows that he's thinking "It's alright." The words he hears as he walks forward are: "(Melora) Aryox, don't do this, PLEASE." "(Telaine) I have nothing to say to you" "(Melora) I can't let you--" A closeup of his face is shown, just the bottom half, with his mouth set in a frown. His own voice, in the style of the other echoes, reads "I'm sorry Mel." Then, he starts walking quicker. Behind him is Telaine's speech bubble yelling "If you want my heart, you can do what [scribbled out] did and break it yourself". He walks through Lumi saying "She seems to have inherited Aryox's penchant for cold, calculating actions. They don't make for the best parents. At times, they don't make for the best friends." Melora says "Aryox". Next there are more of Aryox's thoughts: "if I betray them…", followed by a drawing of Telaine (in yellow) and Melora (in green) laughing together, "I have a reason." A speech bubble in gray offsets this, reading "[illegible], I pray to your indifference." Telaine says "Aryox al-- broke our-- pact and--" Finally, Aryox runs through a mass of speech bubbles. One panel overlayed on top of them is a closeup of his eye, staring forward. His thought cuts through them too-- "It's for their sake. For the future. Because I saw--" The speech bubbles are overlapping, and cutting each other off. They are: "(Aryox) --ell Telaine --'m sorry" "(Telaine) That is why I think [illegible]'s indifference is WRONG" "(gray/Mira) Saved --ed, but at the cost of betraying" "(Telaine) Aryo--" "(Callie, teal) I don't think even he was on his own side." "(Aryox) I know. I had to. If there had been any other way, I would've…" "(Melora) --about the world, I needy you, Aryox." "(Melora) I am not neutral. I protect the--" "(gray) May [illegible]'s indifference protect me." The last speech bubble is just behind Aryox as he runs-- Melora's voice begging "please."

The first half of the next page is entirely taken up by a drawing of a statue of Melora, in slightly faded green. She stands in a column of light, stepping forward, smiling softly with one hand extended towards the viewer. She's looking down, towards whoever is looking at her. Green vines wrap around her, and she carries a green branch in her other hand with yellow, blue, and green flowers on it. Below the statue, a tiny Aryox stands across from it, on top of the border of the next panel, as he says "Mel?" Aryox stares up at her in shock.

The last page shows Aryox staring up at Melora from the front, his ears drooping and text bubbles echoing behind him. They are mostly illegible but some words can be made out: "(Aryox) Mel" "(Telaine) Goddess" "(Melora) I need you, Aryox" "(gray) Melora's indifference" Melora is shown laughing, with the panel fracturing into ice below her and cracks running through the vision of her as Aryox things "no." He is then shown stepping forward raising a hand towards Melora, ice crumbling away from the border of the frame, with Melora's statue still standing across from him. Text echoes behind him: "(Aryox) I know. I'm sorry. If there had been any other--" "(Telaine) Melora's indifference is WRONG" "(gray) Melora, I pray ---ence" "(Telaine) THAT'S how-----tle WE--- YOU" "(Melora) Please." "(Aryox) If I betray them, I have a reason." The ice is cracking below them, too, as Aryox thinks "not you." Mist begins to swirl into the page, and very faintly in the background Aryox's name in light green begins to appear. Aryox reaches up towards Melora, then stares up at her with a frown, putting his hand on her cheek. It is small against her face, and mist cuts across the corner of the panel. It is cut off in the corner by Melora yelling "Aryox!", the tail of this speech bubble parting the mist on the page. The speech bubble leads to Melora in the only colored panel of the comic-- Melora and Telaine leaning over Aryox from his Pov, with his hand on Melora's cheek, bigger against it than the statue's. Melora frowns as she speaks, and Telaine smiles softly, her eyebrows furrowed.

The discord DMs after read: discord dms between me (stonestars) and alli from november. I say "I'm hoping. What are the chances one of us gets the other since we both put the eladrin." Alli responds "possibly high"]

[mychlapci]

So glad to hear that my pretty wife Prowl ask nearly broke you lol. He’d probably figure out what was happening fairly early on, but it’s a bit of a moot point. The Constructicons walking around constantly hard and horny over his wide hips and leaky tits keeps him horny and wet by proxy. The gestalt bond is absolutely not working in his favor, especially not when every time he goes to sleep he trips into yet another dream where someone is absolutely worshipping his pussy with their tongue, big hands stroking his curves as someone calls him ‘pretty mama’. It’s purely pavlovian, he’d tell himself, and not much point fighting it when all it does is make him feel incredible. Horny feelings make him feel wifey and sweet which makes him needy and wet. And then Prowl wakes up with his panel open, node blinking lazily in the dark…

He’d buy the first skirt, but he’d never have to buy himself another one. The Constructicons would be all about spoiling ‘their girl’, I know this in my heart. He’d have an entire wardrobe’s worth of skirts and maybe even dresses in a variety of (disproportionately purple and green) colors, certainly more than enough that Prowl won’t miss his panel when someone manages to detach it completely. Panties, too, I bet. Just so he can soak them through with his arousal, whining at the feeling of them on his bare valve. At least one of those mechs has to have a fetish for it. At least one. Prowl’s been seeing his own needy pussy outlined perfectly in a too-tight pair under a too-short skirt in ‘his’ dreams every night for a week now.

By the time he’s actively trying to get pregnant most of the tough-guy attitude is gone. Prowl’s pretty panties and skirts get him plenty of overloads, and that keeps him delightfully mellow and pliant. He’s the Constructicon’s sweet little wife, blushy and wanting all day. He’s never been praised and worshipped for his fussing and micromanaging before… maybe this is what he was meant for? He’d spend a while wooing them in return, orchestrating ways to fulfill whichever of their dreams Prowl likes best, in an attempt to get what he not-so-secretly wants. The orgy that ensues when he breaks down and /begs/ them to get him pregnant is probably one for the history books. He’d come out looking ready to give birth just from the sheer amount of transfluid they’d fill him with.

And he would not spend one second of that carriage empty. There’s five of them, after all. No more chairs for Prowl, only a fat spike dedicated to keeping him full and giving him overloads. Hand feeding him all of his fuel and treats as that dripping pussy clenches around them. Stroking his node under one of his little skirts until he squirts around whichever spike he’s warming at the time. Thighs and aft widening over time. Face softening until one day they realize that Prowl has honest to god dimples. He sleeps full of spike, too, dreams feverish and horny. The only time he’s not full is when someone is eating him out, pudgy thighs held apart (or held up) by massive hands. Fingers sinking into the mesh or his protoform just a little. By the time he gives emergence some of his shorter skirts are looking more like frilly belts with the way his fat, bouncy aft keeps lifting them up.

This revelation makes them all collectively so horny they can’t help fucking their gorgeous little wifey full of baby number two. And Prowl can’t stop cumming his silly little brain out.

hgrhh... every time i re-read this ask i get so dizzy...

Prowl filled with spike 24/7, frilly skirt decorating his chubby thighs, getting his belly rubbed as he’s sat on one of the constructicons’ laps, pussy throbbing uncontrollably around the fat spike... Once he’s filled with translfuid, they just pull him off of the limp spike and he’s immediately shoved onto another spike, valve barely given enough time to realize that it’s empty before it’s full again. He’ll sleep full of spike and eat full of spike, and if not, he’ll always have a mouth or two down there, lapping at his pussy until his legs are up in the air and twitching.

At the end of his pregnancy, most of Prowl’s skirts don’t fit him anymore <3 And of course, Prowl should be feeding his big, chunky sparkling with his saggy titties while rubbing his full belly, soothing his second baby whenever it kicks <3333