#this better get some notes cuz this was torture

[shhuuga]

ik I just sent an ask but babe my mind is filthy.

christopher NOT BANG CHAN. I REPEAT: CHRISTOPHER NOT BANG CHAN (yes there is a difference) who loves when reader sucks on his balls. it’s his favorite part of getting head, watching his girlfriend with his balls draggin across her face, sucking on them while stroking his fat dick to the GODS. idk if this is doing tm… but imagine putting his balls in your pussy??? AM I DTM??? lemme know cause idek why that shit turns me on so damn bad. he’s just too sexy bruh

(woooo GIRL!!! have me sitting in my bed GIGGLING. BITING MY NAILS. BIIITCH YOUR SO DIRTAAAY!!! /POS)

don't stop (pop that cat)

warnings: cussin (do i even need to warn atp), head (male receiving), ft. 4am kiman bc it's my brand atp, cum play(?), cum eating, sweetheart reader cuz she just wants to make chris happy, blond chan in this bc WE NEED HIM BACK!!!

"oh that's- that's it, baby.. just keep sucking my fucking balls like that, princess." chris throws his head back as he groans— fuck, you get better every fucking time.

wherever it is, in the back of his car, in your bedroom or in the bathroom of some club.. you always remember his favorite part of head. it's really the only reason he asks you, so he can feel his heavy balls in your mouth, watching you switch between one and the other, or struggling to fit them both in.

"oh, baby..that's so fuckin'- shiiiiiit." chris' legs start shaking as your fingers curl tighter around his dick, the slick sounds of your spit and his pre sliding up and down his cock making your pussy clench.

"baby, wait.. lay back. let me- shit.. look at how wet you are." it never phases you because you know the reason, the only reason is him. but chris, he could cum just looking at your beautiful thighs all spread for him, with your slick dripping all over your lower body.

with a lil (pop!), chris slips his balls into you, the thickness of them making you whimper out. obviously, it's not enough for you to cum, but apparently it's just enough for chis to. well, that is after you tightened up around him because of his groans.

"'m sorry, im so sorry baby.. oh fuuck- your pussy 's just too- too perfect.. so fuckin warm.." the blond reaches down to circle his fingers on your clit as he pulls his balls out and slips his still hard dick into you.

(note to self, look into c+b torture videos)

[kalims]

ㅤamongst other things

premise. kisses w/ them, and random things?

featuring. dan heng, blade, jing yuan.

content. gender neutral.

cw. mentions of blood, murder for blade lol. he's just down bad for reader in a weird, blade way ig

note. this is ironic since my first genshin post was also about kisses (AKA me getting bored so I wondered why not get into star rail)

will add others soon ig.. I didn't compile all of them here cuz I honestly lack the characterization for them so woop

dan heng

short, abrupt kisses that rarely ever come by goes as quickly as it came. you'd assume that he's doing it on purpose, giving you the kiss that you've been waiting for all day. it shouldn't even be considered a kiss at all from how fleeting his apparent 'peck' is.

in short it's torture.

keyword: assume. cause as convinced as you are that this is just some form of twisted amusement dan heng gains, that's exactly the problem that it entails. as a person wholly, he's so serious to the point you doubt there's nothing that would entertain him besides books.

you learn he isn't much of a fan of those really long kisses, once you both bore witness to a couple eating each other's face in broad daylight and you spotted his weekly shift of expression, a quirk of few centimeters. in this case, a grimace and he looks away.

he, does not really give kisses a lot. as upset as you are, you do agree that when he does give you a kiss, albeit short. it makes it all the more.. amazing? such a mediocre word wouldn't be able to describe it.

basically when you're both left trying to fit in his small cushion (he could've atleast gotten a bed in all this space.) you also learn that he's a really private man.

you've only ever shared kisses in his room, embraces, everything else for that matter. when the door is locked he quite literally melts into you. if you happen to be sitting together he just leans on to you.

dan heng in public: 😶

dan heng in private: 😊

just doesn't show any affection in public, especially if march is around. that girl would make fun of him for hours end and even drag the trailblazer in on her antics of poking fun.

dan heng is indeed a private man.

march isn't the only factor as to why there hasn't been a lot of kisses out in public. if anything he probably wants to kiss you more than you would like.

he'd be lying if he said he wanted to just kiss you as long as those weird main characters of the romance shows march watches cause even though you might want that as well, dan heng won't ever do it.

cause it isn't him, what he is. is the type to get kisses done as soon as he can not because he doesn't enjoy them. it's because he can take a good look at you once he leans back, just like he does any other day.

to admire you.

and cause dan heng isn't the romantic type to kiss you senseless, but the one to give you looks you'd die for.

blade

if dan heng only gives you kisses a few times a day and you'd consider it torture, better get ready to lose your sanity cause you're lucky if blade even crumples at your hand to give you one.

it's not that he doesn't love you. he feels as though it's wrong to label whatever emotion in his chest as something as strong as love, he won't go that far. but he won't label you as something worthy of hatred either, you're.. tolerable?

if anything blade doesn't outright seek to give you his affection through the form of a kiss. his love language is in fact, not physical affection but destroying your enemies :). (if you have one, if not. then whoever bothers you will suffice.)

but if he does, when he does it's the most blade thing he can do. just grabbing your face with one hand as he gives you one of those rough, deep kisses. it's not really desperate or out of need, despite such a wordless action you could feel some emotion he's pouring into it.

better pray it's not hate cause.. 💀

funny thing cause as much as he hates being piled in the same sentence as dan heng, in a way they're rather similar. both just preferring to witness, given their life span.. maybe it's some type of response they're used to.

blade doesn't really do the 'oh I love you' or the random hugs. the fact that he'd even stand so close to you instead of isolating himself and looking all mysterious leaning on a pillar already spoke volumes of his fondness (if not admitted.)

he just.. watches you?

silver wolf comments about it when she's caught his eyes on you many times midst a conversation, behind your back, staring. "better watch out." she says, but even with her disturbed gaze never does he tear his eyes away.

well.

kafka does take it in more stride than her. as someone who's spent a hefty time with blade, even someone as analytical as her can't tell which things he likes, and hates. besides all the blood and pain (well usually for his opponents.)

she for one, tells you that he does indeed like you. cause she can control who blade murders 'for her own good'. but if there's even a single glimpse of drop from a wound he's going feral, and not even kafka or her spirit whisper can tame his rage.

AKA... just lots of murder?

'for your own good :)'.

blade wholly believes that he doesn't need to shower you in affection, or kisses at all. but if you're really so insistent on them he'll give into you, which is surprising cause he's a pretty stubborn man.

most affection you'd get in physical means is when he completely collapses into you, perhaps a sign of weakness. but also trust. one of the rare times he's exhausted himself in his mind to the point where he can't even do anything.

#icanfixhim.

jing yuan

a cheeky man, this one.

jing yuan could give you a load, barriage, arrows, whatever describes the endless assault of pecks he attacks your face with. emphasis on 'could', he has the ability, and the freedom but it doesn't mean he's going to :)

in short you have to work for it, he says.

you can't tell if he's trying to give you one of those motivational, slapping you back to reality lessons or messing with you. you're going to go for the latter since someone as bold as he is lazy.. even jing yuan would relate enough to not hit you with the lesson card.

in a way he's always dragging the time you've gone by without a kiss from him as long as he can just for the sole reason he can see your attempts to conceal your bothered face, even better when the expression of content is all but displayed to him once he gives in.

what? he can't resist you, you know?

you have a feeling he's teasing you again when he says that but it's better to not ponder upon it.

for someone who prefers to 'conserve' his energy. he's got a lot to spare when it comes to the repeated kisses pressed upon your lips, cheeks, eyelids, forehead.. whatever his own mouth can reach. (his favorite is the edges of your eyes..)

just for some reason, one he can't exactly name he ends up giving that particular area more love compared to the others. sometimes more lighter, feathery pecks when he's feeling playful. or the occasional longer, deep press of his lips when he's feeling rather sentimental about his feelings.

he doesn't deserve you.. but if not him, who else? ;)

gets mimi to help him into trapping you inside his office, jing yuan 'calls for your presence' but once you're inside rather than the pressing matters he apparently had to discuss with you (present in his message.) you're met with the man practically snuggling into you as he keeps you in his arms.

rather effortlessly if you might add!

and if you somehow managed to wriggle out his grip. you swore you saw him give the... big... cat a look and suddenly mimi is choosing to sleep right in front of the doors..

come back or you will not get kisses for two days (he's scamming u)

note. NOT PR... hi hsr fandom 🕳 posting in a new fandom makes me so nerviosity

[anitalenia]

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒔 ₊˚⊹♡

⋆˙⟡♡ SYNOPSIS ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑡𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑓, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙 𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑡𝑦. ℎ𝑒 𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛’𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑖𝑛… 𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑙 ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑒 𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑤 ℎ𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛’𝑡. 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒. ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

╰✦･ﾟ✵ 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆: how he acted 𓂃⊹ the beginning of how it started. a part detailing how Batman initially treated you and handled the relationship.

╰✦･ﾟ✵ 𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏: how it happened 𓂃⊹ how Batman fell in love with you and all the things that happened leading up to it. all the signs and actions that made him love you.

╰✦･ﾟ✵ 𝒄𝒍𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒙: how it was 𓂃⊹ how Batman handled the reality of being in love with you and all the things he did to try and hide from it. better yet, his confession.

╰✦･ﾟ✵ 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈: how it all fell together 𓂃⊹ yours and Bruce’s relationship and how he was with you. some relationship headcanons for fun.

⋆˙⟡♡ PAIRING ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ battinson x fem!reader

⋆˙⟡♡ CONTENT INCLUDES ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ mentions of sex, mentions of fighting and threatening, rough kissing, mentions of sad!Bruce / undertones of depression, mentions of alcohol & insomnia, bad words, sweet kisses, tears, hair pulling, love confessions, not really a whole lot of sexiness just headcanons mostly

⋆˙⟡♡ WARNINGS ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ mature content, emotionally tortured Bruce Wayne, maybe not my best story telling :(, mentions of blood and fighting cuz this is Batman, alcoholism

⋆˙⟡♡ AUTHORS NOTE ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ thanks to @diavolosbaby for requesting this!! Hope you enjoy and it lives up to your standards 🩷

OTHER LINKS ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝒃𝒂𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒎𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

𝓫𝓪𝓽𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓸𝓷 ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ He told you what this was before he even started it. Told you this was strictly business, no feelings involved; you knew who he was during a chance encounter and you were the only one he could really come to after that. It was simple, straight forward; you needed his dick and he needed your pussy.

╰✦･ﾟ✵ 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆: how he acted 𓂃⊹

⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce came to you a lot, which was a little odd compared to how you perceived him to be. You thought he was a very busy man, always fighting crime or hiding away in his mansion, always too busy to bother with someone as unimportant as you. But no, you couldn’t have been more wrong. He was there at least three times a week, standing by your window in that black suit of his with his cape blowing with the wind, waiting for you.

⋆˙⟡♡ He was always quiet, head filled with whatever torturous pain lingered in the shadows of his mind, brimming with the secrets he never told you and you never asked for. He never spoke, unless it was a command spoken in a gentle gruffness. He never smiled, tried not to grunt or make too much noise, but some nights he couldn’t contain himself and the sounds just escaped him. Those were the nights he was particularly frustrated.

⋆˙⟡♡ He never let you take off his mask at first, he’d leave it on and you were left grasping at leather and air. He didn’t like affection, having you touch his scars and his body, it was too vulnerable, too intimate, for his liking. So, naturally, he didn’t stay to cuddle afterwards. The business was over, your job was done, he’d slip out the window as you’d bask in the aftershocks.

⋆˙⟡♡ His heart was cold but his body was warm, always warm. He was like a furnace when he’d be flat against you, fucking into you with his head in your neck and his hands gripping your jaw, your waist, your thighs. You’d always get so hot, craving his warmth like a bug to a bonfire.

⋆˙⟡♡ He never bothered to ask you anything about yourself, but you had a suspicion he had to have done some research on you during those long lonely days in the darkness of his home. He was too cautious not to, too curious. And he did. He found out everything about you but didn’t share a single detail about himself. He was Bruce Wayne, rich son whose parents died by day, and then Batman, vengeance personified by night. That’s all you needed to know.

⋆˙⟡♡ Batman only came to you in the middle of the night, sometimes bloody and beaten, your fingers running over tender bruises that would make him grimace. A part of him liked the pain, figured he deserved it. Sometimes you worried for him on the nights he was particularly beaten up, but he didn’t give you time to ask questions before he was shoving you against your dresser and pressing himself against you.

⋆˙⟡♡ He didn’t like being in the light, being too seen. He liked it with all the lights off, your room glowing with the dim light of the moon and the streetlights, your face pressed into his neck or shoved into a pillow so you couldn’t look at him.

⋆˙⟡♡ In the beginning, he liked it when you just submitted to him; he mostly cared about his own pleasure at first as he told you what this was, why he was doing this. That didn’t stop him from making sure you came at least once though. He couldn’t help it, didn’t want you to feel completely used.

⋆˙⟡♡ You noticed he always had this way about him when he touched you, almost like he yearned to hold you closer but knew he shouldn’t. His hands were rough, long fingers and hot palms, lingering on your skin before he’d move them away, never touching one place too long before he’d move on. It was almost a tease.

⋆˙⟡♡ He spied on you, a lot actually, would watch you from his spot on a roof top, stare at you through your big office window. He didn’t know why, just bored and curious, he always told himself. He’d see you stress yourself out, fill out paper after paper while your boss did nothing but throw more at you. You took it anyway and Bruce was confused by why. But he never asked, didn’t want to make a connection with you and risk losing you.

⋆˙⟡♡ He remembered sneaking into your house, waiting for you, but you were late coming home from work and he wasn’t sure if he should leave or not. He felt wrong about it, but he looked through your photos and your notebooks, saw a glimpse into your real life outside of him and work and he quickly put everything back the way it was and left. He didn’t want to see, he didn’t want to see you as anything different than what he already did.

⋆˙⟡♡ He would lie to Alfred about where he was going at night, why he would be so late coming home. But Alfred knew he was lying, he wasn’t sure about what exactly, but Alfred knew Bruce would come to him in time.

⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce tried hard to keep his and yours personal lives outside of your mutual situation, he really did. He didn’t want to know you, hear you talk about your problems and your dreams and fears and learn what made you you, from your own words. He was alone and knew he was meant to be alone, planned on being alone forever. Being with him would only put you in danger, a bigger target on his back he didn’t need. It was for your own protection, for the sake of both your lives and both your hearts.

⋆˙⟡♡ He vowed to himself to keep it that way, strictly professional, a hobby almost. He really didn’t plan to fall in love, he really really didn’t…

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ Your living room was dark when you came home from work, later than usual because of your infuriating boss; he was lazy, relied on his employees to do his work while he sat in his office and ate his donuts. You hated him, loathed him, absolutely couldn’t stand him, but you understood he was just another obstacle, a milestone you needed to get through before you reached where you needed to be. So, you didn’t make a fuss, you didn’t complain, didn’t speak up. You did what you were supposed to as you were supposed to do it, just another hamster circling the wheel of business over and over until you finally got the balls to break the cycle.

Unfortunately, your ambition was almost too much for you sometimes, tonight was evidence enough.

You set your keys in the ceramic bowl by the door with a tired sigh, soft rain pattering on your windows, furniture lit up with a dim orange glow from the street lamps outside. All twisting shadows and rain drops. Your nose tickled with the scent of vanilla bean and raspberry, remembering the candle you had forgotten to blow out before you left. Oops.

Your hair was damp, gray suit littered in dark spots from the rain outside. Your limbs were sore and heavy, eyes burning and fluttering for a semblance of rest. Your heels were sore from the heels you’ve been prancing around in all day, your whole body exhausted in general. This was normal for you though, you always came home lagged and tired. You regretted being such a hard worker, but knew it would ultimately pay off in the future.

You walked to your bedroom, your heels clacking on the floor unevenly, dragging on the wooden boards as you navigated your way through the darkness. You held your purse loosely in your left hand, a shiver crawling up your spine as an unexpected gust of coolness swept up your legs and down your neck.

Your foot stuttered, lingering by the doorway in your bedroom as the rain seemed louder, less dull, wind whistling your black bed sheets. You furrowed your eyebrows at that, knowing you left your window closed before you left. Your eyes strained to see anything in the darkness as panic blared in your chest like a fire alarm, trying to make out any figure in the shadows of your room. You slowly crept forward, preparing for the worst, your exhaustion melting into hot fear that made your bones go stiff.

You swallowed, eyes immediately going to the open window to see the empty street below, the sound of a car alarm in the distance overpowering the rain that seemed to just pound harder. Your window was wide open, sheer purple curtains flapping from the breeze like a set of violet wings. Your eyes narrowed at that, hearing nothing but buzzing silence ringing in your ears. Then, it just hit you.

You couldn’t describe it exactly, but you felt a sensation of calmness wash over you as you let out a hefty breath, fear gradually melting away as your body relaxed and hands unclenched. It was like your body knew it wasn’t in any real danger, that there was nothing lurking in the shadows besides what was supposed to be. This was all too familiar to you; a setting you’ve come home to many times before. The open window, the darkness, the buzzing calm.

You felt excitement spark through you in recognition as you felt your neck tingle, a barely there whisper of a breath wash over your neck and tickle your hair.

You felt a smile quirk on your lips, turning around slowly, sucking in a sharp breath when you were met with the large bulking figure of the man in black standing just an inch away from you, a shadow hiding in shadow as he stared down at you with those black soulless eyes. He was big, a thing you liked about him, dirt encrusted on his suit and so out of place in the cozy warmth of your home. He was big and bulky, comically large for your small bedroom.

You looked back up at him, your purse dropping to the floor as instinctual arousal flooded your belly at just the mere sight of him. You couldn’t help it, your body knew what he was capable of and yearned for it. Your throat became dry, you swallowed once more as his eyes, those dark blue gems of his, looked over your face with a certain pained look in them, calculating and tortured, covered in black face paint that hid the beauty of his raw skin.

His pink lips were set in a firm frown, a faint scratch on his chin, breaths slow and even, calm. That damned mask of his covered his face, the fluffiness of his brown hair you seldom ever felt run through your finger tips. He always wore this expression, always so serious and somber like he was going through a dreadful ordeal every second he continued to live. You were always curious as to why, but knew he’d never answer, nor appreciate your nosiness.

You let your thoughts drift off, looking back up at him with a false confidence.

“I didn’t know you were coming tonight…” You mumbled quietly, losing any conviction in your voice as he took a small step forward, closer to you, his heavy boot thudding on your floor. You took a small step back, crumbling under him way too easily, as always. He always loved to completely invade your space, but never let you do the same to him.

You looked up at him, he looked down at you, breaths mingling together as a dark look washed over his oceanic eyes, his strong jaw clenching as he ran his eyes over your face like this was the first time he’d ever seen you. You felt your thighs tighten at the look in them, at the way he looked at you.

You were being honest though, you didn’t expect him tonight. You had seen him two nights ago, expecting not to see him for another few weeks at least.

“Shhh…” He shushed you gently, voice gravelly but gentle, tired but awake, undertones of desire.

He leaned down towards you and you found yourself holding your own arms back from wrapping around him and taking him already, just as he always took you. His gloved hands reached for the edge of the dresser behind you, trapping you between his strong arms and chest, completely invading your senses as your eyes looked into his, almost begging. His cape flowed down his shoulders and shrouded around you both until all you could see was black, the heady smell of smoke and rain tickling your nose, captivating.

He pressed himself against you, a brick wall, the mahogany’s edge digging into your lower back as your breath stuttered. You found yourself looking at his lips, his nose, his eyes, his closeness overwhelming you as you couldn’t figure out where to look, your skin feeling hot and stuffy, the confidence you had previously now a pile on the floor as your stomach twisted.

You could see the rain on his black suit, dripping down all his gear and heavy armor he wore and down to his waist, some falling to the floor in soft drips. You licked your lips, minding the mess, feeling lightheaded and fluttery as you looked back up at him with sparkling eyes.

He cocked his head at you, dark eyes running over your lips before looking back into your own, “Take your hair down.”

He always used such a gentle, tired voice, like he didn’t want to scare you and he could never find enough sleep, but the demand was obvious in his tone, eyes dark and predatory as they stared down at you intently. He didn’t need anymore command, knowing you’d do as he said just like you always did.

You didn’t dare disobey, sensing his need sizzling in the air just as strong as your shared want. You managed eye contact as you brought a hand up to the back of your head, taking out the black hair clip holding your hair together, the rain pattering on your roof almost too loud in your ears. He stared as your hair fell down your shoulders, cascading down your back in silky waves and framing your face. You swallowed, feeling the need to clear your throat as you put a hand through your hair and brushed it over your shoulder.

You saw his eyes run over your hair, the way it fell around your cheeks, his jaw clenching once more. He brought a hand up, big and heavy, running your locks through his fingers, imagining the softness of it as the sweet smell of apricot and citrus filled his nose, the signature flavor of your favorite shampoo.

You sighed at the pleasurable sensation on your scalp, head titling back as your eyes drooped, your hair clip falling to the ground noisily as you brought your hands up and grabbed his forearms. You might’ve been a little dramatic at just a few touches, but you were so needy, needy for this dangerous man you knew absolutely nothing about besides the obvious. He was a stranger in a suit, a stranger to you, but he somehow knew how to touch you better than any man you’ve ever been with.

He took note of your reaction, his own body twitching to touch you as he noticed the look in your eyes. He felt an intense need spark through him, his hand grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling your head back. He remained calm looking, but his eyes gave it all away.

Your head was yanked back, a pleasurable gasp leaving your lips as you squeezed his arms, looking up at him with your lips parted and breaths heavy. Your head stung, hair being pulled on in just the right way that had a familiar wetness pooling between your thighs, your body buzzing alive with feeling.

Bruce looked down at you, pressing the broadness of himself against you even harder, your breasts smushed against his suit, completely at his mercy. He looked down at you with an unraveled look in his eyes as he tilted your head up towards him.

He kissed you then, rough and hot, groaning into your mouth as his tongue played with yours, teeth clashing and breaths hot against each other. You couldn’t help but moan against him as he finally granted you what you’ve been wanting for so long now, scalp burning from his hold on your hair as your hands flew up and gripped at the leather of his mask, arms wrapped around his neck.

He was forceful and rough, his other hand crawling around your waist and lifting you off the ground with such ease it almost caught you off guard. You gasped into his mouth, his hand tightening on the hold in your hair as you grimaced at the pain.

You didn’t break the kiss, stuck on him as your heels fell off your feet and hit the floor. In two big strides you were suddenly lied flat on your bouncy mattress with Batman himself between your thighs, still holding your waist and head against him as he kissed you fervently.

Your skirt slid down around your thighs as you wrapped your legs around him, pressing him harder into you as all you wanted was him, him everywhere and him all over you. You moaned against him, helpless and desperate, as the ridges in his suit dug into your stomach, his lips movingly hotly against yours as he grunted against you. His cape flowed around you, thick and smooth, trapping you underneath until all you could see was blackness, unable to discern the space between his body and yours.

You knew this was going to be quick; he was too rough, too impatient and needy. It must’ve been a bad night for him, but you didn’t pry no matter how much you wanted to, no matter how much the questions bubbled in your throat and ached in your chest you knew you were in no place to ask. A part of you liked it that way, liked that this was strictly this. You liked that you didn’t have to answer to him, that you weren’t bound to him and he wasn’t to you. It was just simple, secrecy for a night of shameless lust-filled sex in return.

You both got what you wanted and that was enough. You appreciated that he didn’t go beyond that just as you didn’t. Outside of this room he was Batman, a dangerous vigilante some trusted and some hated, he was Bruce Wayne, an orphan child with more money and pain than he needed. But in the shadow of your bedroom, under the covers with you, there was no identity, no obligation, just two strangers seeking each other out in search of the one thing they both wanted, blessed with none of the other drama that followed a relationship.

With Bruce on top of you in this very moment, his hands gripping your body for no reason other than pleasure, you knew he would be gone before the night was over, and you’d be alone in your bed with bite marks and handprints on your skin to serve as a reminder of the man who gave them to you. You knew he would silently leave, slip away when he thought you were sleeping, you knew he wouldn’t talk or tell you any of his problems. He’d give you what you wanted and then slip into the shadows… you had to admit, It was the most perfect arrangement.

╰✦･ﾟ✵ 𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏: how it happened 𓂃⊹

⋆˙⟡♡ Batman didn’t plan on ever falling in love with you, but when he did, it had happened after a couple of months of doing what he did with you. But before he did, things had been going so well. You never intervened in his life and he never intervened in yours. Just as he expected, just as he preferred. It had been perfect, but somewhere along the way he had gotten too involved, started to trust you without even realizing it.

⋆˙⟡♡ At first, it started with him staying in your bed longer than he used to. You didn’t argue, comfortable with the heat his body gave you in the coldness of the night. He found himself dozing off after you would, your fluffy blanket soft on his skin and the mattress like a cloud for his broken body. He’d always be gone before you woke up though. You didn’t want to say anything about his little sleepovers, scared you’ll frighten him and he’ll stop. So you let him do as he pleased, enjoying his company albeit his silence.

⋆˙⟡♡ He never cuddled with you though, ever (don’t worry, he lets that slip too). Always stiff like a board on his side of the bed, expression crumbled with pain and peace. Sometimes he’d flinch, nightmares you never questioned him about but always noticed. Still, he’d wake up after about an hour, slip out your window, but not before giving you one last look, seeing how the moon shined down on your soft skin…

⋆˙⟡♡ Then, it was following you home after work, making sure you got home safe on those dark nights where it seemed like every shadow was following you. He’d be on the rooftops, claiming he was just curious and bored, cape flapping in the wind, when in reality he just needed to make sure you got home safely.

⋆˙⟡♡ You didn’t know, but he was watching you much more than you’d ever suspect. He watched your home on the nights Gotham was quiet, his body knowing you were so close but oh so far. He thought about you when he wasn’t thinking about you, thought about the routine he had found in you, the unfamiliar closeness, the comfort he had found between your body and your bed sheets.

⋆˙⟡♡ He started kissing you more, flinching less when your fingers would graze his back. He let you look at him, look deep into his eyes when he was inside you, have your hands touching his face and his back without the security of his suit to hide him. You loved when he did that, feeling him under your hands, skin to skin as it should be.

⋆˙⟡♡ He let you see his scars in the light, didn’t care when he took off his suit and your bathroom light was on, shining down on his body and the sculpted muscle of it. He had learned you wouldn’t judge him, but he was still hesitant, suffering inside when he looked down at the floor as you gazed at him in awe… you thought he was so beautiful.

⋆˙⟡♡ He would watch you when you worked, watch as your boss would storm in and demand more from you. Bruce didn’t like that, would clench his fist and grind his teeth when you’d get scolded like a child, told to work harder when all you did was work. He’d have to control himself when your boss would walk past him on his way home every night.

⋆˙⟡♡ He started conversing with you more, holding you against his chest when you two were done. He’d ask you profound questions as you two stared up at the ceiling, you’d tell him your answer. He didn’t talk a lot, just liked to listen. It would be intimate, almost romantic. He’d listen to what you’d have to say and he’d learn, learn more about who you were, where you came from, and he’d find himself not wanting to leave, a dull ache in his chest every time you’d fall asleep and he’d have to slip out your fire escape.

⋆˙⟡♡ He never admitted it to himself, but he started to look forward to seeing you, found comfort in your small bedroom and the absence of life’s problems that came with it. He started to enjoy the smell of vanilla bean and raspberry from those candles you always forgot to blow out before work. He started to pick up on your little quirks.

⋆˙⟡♡ While gradually falling in love with you, Bruce would deny, deny, deny. He acknowledged that he was starting to feel things he didn’t want to, and he’d be incredibly disturbed and moody, more than usual. Alfred would even be a little peeved with him.

⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce would find himself asking you how work was. He would be concerned about the bags under your eyes and the wrinkles in your clothes, not outright concerned but he couldn’t stop himself from asking. He wanted to hear your voice.

⋆˙⟡♡ He would be very hesitant around you, scared he was doing too much when he’d touch you now. It wasn’t like before, when he would just grab and control. Now he was really touching you, trying to feel you, every dip and curve of your skin under his fingertips.

⋆˙⟡♡ He had gotten way too comfortable with you now, even he knew that. He relied on you and the comfort you gave, a feeling he’d been without for so long. He was like a cold soul lost in the woods, searching for something, anything, hollow, a warm body to bring him back. He found that with you, and he didn’t even realize it until he started to feel pain when he wasn’t around you, a pain in his chest like a knife was stabbing into his heart. He missed you but he didn’t want to…

⋆˙⟡♡ He stared at your face a lot, too intensely for your liking, thoughts behind those dark eyes of his he’d never tell you about if you confronted him about it. He just liked to look at you, watch you giggle and smile. He’d do it without realizing how intimidated it made you feel, how you’d have to blush and look away, pretend you didn’t notice. He just liked to look at you, soak in your expressions before he’d leave again.

⋆˙⟡♡ The signs were all there when you thought about it. The lingering touches, the admiring stares, the countless nights he’d watch over you. He felt like a creep, following you around so much, but he couldn’t help it. You were a pleasant distraction and he was a fool, easily succumbing to those feelings he had for you without even knowing it. They had been growing inside of him like a blooming vine… they started out small but grew into so much more, and he ignored it, until he just couldn’t take it anymore…

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ It was a quiet night in September, it had been raining for days and the coolness of autumn had just started to blow into the city. The trees danced with orange and red leaves, strewn all over the road and sidewalks, getting stuck under peoples rain boots and car tires. Your window was cracked, letting a cool breeze into your room that made you shiver, the savory smell of someone’s cooking wafting into your noses from the apartments across the way. You looked at your tv, black screen shut off but reflecting the blurred forms of your mingled bodies on your bed, arm outstretched on Bruce’s stomach, head lying on his chest. You could hear his heart, slow and calm just as he always was, pumping in your ear and lulling you to sleep.

You wanted to stay awake though, listening to the sounds of cars driving in rain puddles and horns honking, the occasional laughter of a passerby. A candle was lit on your dresser across the room, with the faint scent of vanilla bean and raspberry in the air just as Bruce liked. Your legs were a little sore, thighs tender from where Bruce had gripped them so hard, lips puffy from where Bruce had kissed them so much. You felt satisfied, pleasant even, comforted by his presence, the knowledge of his identity absent in your mind as you didn’t register him as a millionaire, or as a crime fighting vigilante, you never really did.

He was neither of those things to you. He was… he was Bruce, just Bruce, your Bruce. Not Bruce Wayne or Batman, and that was enough for you. You took him as he is not as he was, never questioned him about his parents or how Batman was even created. He appreciated that, didn’t like answering questions about himself he wasn’t comfortable with. He was comfortable with silence, but he didn’t mind hearing you.

He was awake too, didn’t want to fall asleep before you, something in his mind telling him he should leave already, not sink into the mattress any further and let himself relish in your warmth. He had responsibilities, duties, people he needed to save and crime he needed to stop. It was Gotham, something was always wrong and someone always needed help. But he couldn’t think about any of that stuff around you, his thoughts always either empty or crowded with your smile.

His suit was a mess on the floor, scrambled just like his mind, bat mask clear as day in his vision, lit up in a red glimmer from the light outside. It stared at him with its blank eyes, watching, the buzzing of a neon light loud in his ears. It’s like it was mocking him, patronizing him. He frowned at it, turning his head slightly away from it, like it was a reminder of what his true purpose was, where he should really be this late other than here in your arms. He knew he should go, felt his arm twitch like he was about to get up and unwind from you.

“Don’t you have somewhere you should be? Or are you gonna stay?” You mumbled sleepily, voice so quiet and sweet he almost didn’t hear it.

His eyes drifted to you, rubbing his fingertips on your rib cage and savoring the feeling of your smooth skin underneath him, against him. You were so unblemished, unlike him. A few scratches and scars here and there that held stories and memories, none like his. His were ridged and pale, covered his skin, they held memories but none of them good. Memories that served as reminders of why this was so wrong, of who he really was and who he needed to get back to once he left these four walls.

He thought about it for a minute, frowning at the ceiling fan.

Did he have somewhere to be? Yes, yes he did. He always had somewhere to be, that was the problem. He couldn’t be everywhere at once, he could be somewhere else, but he was here instead. He was here with you, here with you. He had somewhere to be, could be anywhere else, but he was here. Everyone always expected him to be where they were, expected him to save everyone. But he couldn’t, he couldn’t save everyone and he couldn’t be everywhere they wanted him to be. He was with you but he shouldn’t be. Guilt settled in his gut as he swallowed, hands itching like it was wrong to touch you.

His eyes, dark and somber like storm clouds, especially just as captivating, looked over your frazzled hair like he could see your face, knowing how exhausted you must’ve been from work and sex, how it was so late already and how you’d have to leave so early. Your breathing was slow and even, warm breath brushing over his chest from your parted pink lips, all cues of how you’ve already fallen asleep. He thought about your question, yes, yes he had somewhere he needed to be, he always did.

He didn’t bother speaking, just turned his head back and looked at the ceiling as his arm held you just a little tighter against him, hearing the splash of a car racing through water from somewhere outside.

He’ll stay for a little while.

╰✦･ﾟ✵ 𝒄𝒍𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒙: how it was 𓂃⊹

⋆˙⟡♡ When he realized he was in love with you he left, he left for a long time. He refused to let those feelings blossom into anything more, grow into something more… dangerous. Love was dangerous, he was dangerous. He isolated himself from you, in a worse mood than usual. Alfred had picked up on it, knowing there was more going on than Bruce wanted to say. You couldn’t help the disappointment as the days turned into weeks, weeks of hope being crushed on with every night he wasn’t there.

⋆˙⟡♡ He told himself it was for the best, heartbreak was something you could heal from, death was something you’d never come back from. With his life, you would die. He couldn’t lose anyone else, he couldn’t. He couldn’t subject you to that same fate his parents had.

⋆˙⟡♡ Still, he couldn’t stop himself from watching you when you’d walk home, still sitting outside your job, your home, watching you from a distance to make sure you’d be alright. He couldn’t sleep if he didn’t.

⋆˙⟡♡ He couldn’t sleep anyway. Eyes a dark purple and the ache in his chest getting so much worse. It was because of you he couldn’t sleep, bed empty and cold without you, mattress hard and firm unlike yours. His nightmares consisted of your death and his inability to save you. He was better off seeing nothing with his eyes open than your blood with his eyes closed.

⋆˙⟡♡ Alfred was concerned. Confronted his Master Bruce during breakfast when Bruce was silent and gloomy. Yes, Alfred knew he would confess eventually, just needed a little shove. “I can’t stop thinking about her, Alfred.”

⋆˙⟡♡ You couldn’t stop thinking about him either… work was slow and long, your thoughts muddled together as you couldn’t stop racking your brain for a reason, any reason, as to why, why he left. Did you do something wrong?

⋆˙⟡♡ You didn’t want to say you missed him, you didn’t want to admit that to yourself. You felt almost stupid, like he had used you and discarded you, but wasn’t that the whole point? You were a mess, confused and feeling a different kind of lonely only a sad heart could bring you. You felt abandoned.

⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce would hide up in his room and think, read books but not pay attention to the words. Alfred would bring him his tea and advice whenever he could, but it seemed nothing could cheer him up. Bruce felt a different kind of loneliness now than he had his whole life. When his parents died they were taken away from him, he didn’t choose to give them up like he did you. He felt like he had lost yet another person.

⋆˙⟡♡ He really thought about moving on from you, a part of him arguing thats what was best for you. But the thought of fully giving you up to anybody else angered him. You weren’t his but you’d always been in some way, his. He yearned to be near you again, an itch in the back of his mind only you could scratch.

⋆˙⟡♡ He drunk, a lot. Spent his free time as Bruce Wayne drowning in whiskey and scotch, heavy liquor bottles empty and discarded on the floor. He almost felt like crying, but he’d just pass out on his bed, too drunk to crawl under the covers. Sometimes he’d pass out in the common room, leg hanging off the couch and hair unraveled, Alfred cleaning up the mess and putting a blanket over him.

⋆˙⟡♡ He drowned himself in his work to distract from you. He was frustrated, angry, weeks having gone by without you having set him on edge. He was beating petty criminals to a bloody pulp, sending them to Gordon barely conscious. He needed to take his anger out on something, anything. Alfred would just sigh when a bloody Bruce would storm past him, ensuring his suit was cleaned before the next day.

⋆˙⟡♡ It was a late Friday night when Bruce let his anger take control of him. It was some petty thief thinking he’d run off with the bags of cash he’d stolen. Bruce didn’t let him speak, anger taking over him like thick ropes of lava in his blood, anger that had festered in his black heart for weeks, simmering under his skin waiting for the moment it could boil over.

⋆˙⟡♡ He was bloody and dirty when he came to you in a blur of anger and love, adrenaline running through him with a determination boiling in his bones.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ It was a dark cloudy night when you saw Bruce standing outside your window; you lay in bed, cozy and under the covers, bathed in the dim golden light of your lamp. You were pretending to read a book you’ve meant to finish with a frown on your face, mind full of memories and the fruitless desire to have it all back. It was a melancholic pain that throbbed under your skin, sharp and persistent like a plant rash, the memory of forgotten things plaguing your mind and wishing it could just all go back to the way it was.

You almost didn’t see him if it wasn’t for the thud on your fire escape; you jumped and the book flew to the floor with a thud. Your eyes widened and you felt a wave of excitement and relief flourish through your veins as you scrambled off your bed. You couldn’t believe it, heart pounding as you rushed over to your window and swung it open like an eager baker opening an oven door. It was a big window, one with a giant view of the street below and the park across the ways, big enough to fit a grown man in a heavy suit.

Your hands were almost frantic, eyes wide in disbelief to just see him standing there in all his glory, back to you like he used to be all those weeks ago before he left, left you, left you behind. The memory of his loss and betrayal flashed back like a pull to reality, all those sad feelings you pushed away coming full frontal in your head like a tidal wave in your fragile brain.

Bruce’s heavy stare burned through you and it was like you could feel it on your skin, like a million microscopic bugs crawling all over you, your body buzzing with electricity and your hands almost shaking. You felt a flurry of difficult emotions coursing through you that all muddled together in one big mess in your head; anger and happiness, relief and irritation. You couldn’t pinpoint on one, feeling everything all at once when you opened your window and Batman was stood on the other side of you in all his threatening grandness.

You hated that he looked so good despite the grime.

You were left stunned as all you could do was stare at him. This was a moment you’ve only dreamt about, wished for for days and countless weeks, fantasized about for hours on end. How you would react, what you would say, how it would all go… and especially how he’d apologize on hand and knee for you, atone for his sins and plead for your pardon. It was all meticulously planned and carefully thought out, and now here it was, the moment you’ve been waiting for for so long; it was finally here, staring at you in the face. And it was so funny how all those ideas and all that confidence you had just seemed to vanish now that it was time to confront them; you were frozen as you stared back at him, unsure of what to do next and too tongue tied to formulate a thought. All that planning, pointless in the face of its precipitant.

Bruce stared back at you longingly and painfully, breaths hard and heavy and knuckles bruised and sore. His eyes were smeared in that black paint he always used, thick with an unspoken emotional torture, like he was being tormented in his own mind at the mere sight of you. He was in a way; you were his reminder of why he left, the catalyst of his destruction but at the same time his anecdote. It was all very confusing and contradictory; all he could understand was that it pained him to look at you, but he couldn’t find it in himself to look away.

Blood was splattered over his cheeks and suit, his heart pumping in his ears as he looked you over, putting all the pieces of you back in his mind; from your face, to your pink pajamas, to the black socks on your feet, then back to your cautious eyes. You were all right, you were okay and he was so relieved. He felt a weight drop from his chest, knowing you were in no certain danger but he always worried for you if he couldn’t see you, a consequence of everyone he cared for always getting hurt some way or another. Bruce felt what he could only describe as happiness, a feeling he only got with you, hit him full on like a train, smacking into his heart as his throat closed up.

He had missed you.

He had missed you a lot, more than he ever wanted to admit, but he would gladly do so for you. He had missed your pretty eyes and sweet voice, soft hands and smooth skin, and your voice, calming and rich like honeyed pastries. You were beautiful to him, so beautiful, and he couldn’t believe he had shown up here once more, that he would risk ever putting it in danger. But he had to come, he couldn’t take it anymore… and if his love for you was that perilous then his soul be damned.

He noticed the subtle way your face crumbled as your initial excitement died down, settled into pain and sadness and concern; your eyes running over the blood on him, wondering if it was his, really looking at him and realizing that he was really here, back on your fire escape. He couldn’t believe it himself, but here he was and he didn’t plan on leaving, not unless you ordered him to. You were nervous, eager to touch him, feel the suit under your palms like you used to, but you were also too stubborn to welcome him back into your home so easily, hurt once and not wanting to be hurt again. He understood that notion all too well.

Bruce felt an unfamiliar form of courage jolting through him, a type of courage so different from the one he used to fight criminals every night. This was a type of boldness that made him just want to grab your face and kiss you, hard, make up for all the lost time between you and spill all his confessions in the space between his lips and yours, make you taste the apology on his tongue. All he wanted was to be here again, here in your room; his nose was already filling up with the smell of vanilla bean and raspberry, his muscles relaxing instinctively at the sweet smell of it, knowing he was safe here. He wanted so badly to be here again, but now that he was he didn’t know what to do.

Bruce admitted that he was a little disappointed at your reaction to him, that you didn’t welcome him back in with open arms and gleeful smiles, kiss him and hug him and show him how much you missed him. But he knew that was too optimistic. He knew your antipathy was to be expected; he could only imagine the amount of hurt he’d put you through if it was anything compared to his own. He could only imagine how many nights you came home hoping he was there, waiting for you like he always did, how many days you kept looking at the clock, wishing it would hurry up and you could just go home already, how many days you hoped it would be different from the one before, how much hope he must’ve killed.

He felt horrible, regret and guilt spinning in his stomach as his muscles twitched, itching to touch you again; you were a drug coursing through his veins, and after two months of withdrawal he could say he was positively hooked once more. But, he knew he couldn’t just grab whatever part of you he liked like a greedy child in a toy store. He needed patience, he needed to wait for you to warm up to him on your own terms, no matter how long that took.

So, Bruce just stood on your fire escape with his hands holding the frame of the wall, blood and vanilla heavy on his nose as he stared at you, breathing hard but calm, waiting for you to make a move, any move or semblance of invitation.

Your eyes ran over the blood on him, the awkward silence deafening with all the unspoken words and yearning you both wanted so badly to address. Your eyes narrowed at the red spots and stripes on his suit and face, dripping off his gloves, worry shooting through your buzzing veins. You took a step back away from him in discontent, curious as to why he has suddenly appeared after so long away, eyes looking him over like the situation has really dawned on you. It had been weeks, two months even, since you’ve seen him, seen his black eyes and pointed ears, seen the vague Batman symbol on the chest piece of his suit.

Memories were coming back wave after wave at the sight of him, ones that wanted you to embrace him, ones that were gradually persuading you to give up this act and just be thankful he was here again, back to you. But you knew better than that, knew better than to just simply overlook a mistake as monumental as the one he made. You needed to have some damn pride.

Despite that…

Were you happy to see him? Yes, yes you really really were. You wanted him to just take off his mask and kiss you already, hell, you didn’t care if he left it on because you just wanted him to kiss you again. You wanted to feel his big arms around you once more and feel his warm palms on the dip in your back. Have him lift you up and smile into his kiss and say those magical words you yearned to hear. You could try to act tough all you wanted but at the end of the day you were still just a girl, a sad girl who wanted to be held by the man she missed so much… but your anger was still so present, lingering cold in your veins and greatly overpowering any positive emotions you had.

You wanted a damn good reason for why he did what he did.

“What are you doing here, Bruce? I thought you had moved on.” You licked your dry lips, crossing your arms and glaring at him with distaste and a false sense of confidence, a faux act of strength and apathy to cover up the real pain you felt. Your tone was anything but friendly, standoffish and disinterested, conveying the anger you felt almost perfectly; if it wasn’t for the waver in your voice and the glimmer in your eye you would even believe yourself.

You frowned at him, a cruel part of you hoping he was feeling any kind of hurt, any kind of hurt like the hurt you’ve felt. But at the same time, you just wanted so badly to hear that he came back for one reason and one reason alone. You. You wanted to hear him say that he missed you dearly, that he was so sorry for what he did and that he’d never do it again. If you heard that, then maybe, just maybe, you’d forgive him. No, you definitely would.

Bruce almost flinched at your tone, but knew it was well deserved. He looked at you with guilty eyes, like he’d committed the most heinous crime (which in his mind, he did), frown deep on his lips where a cut was on his skin, swallowing down the nerves in his throat at the look in your eyes.

A string of fear curled in his chest and made him nervous, made Batman nervous, a fear of being rejected, of him telling you how he really felt and you not reciprocating it. He couldn’t bear it, the uncertainty. But he was also afraid of hurting you any more than he already has, arguing with himself that he shouldn’t have come. But he was already here and he couldn’t leave now, couldn’t disappoint you any more than he already has. He looked up at you, his chest fluttering when he looked into your eyes.

“‘Could never move on from you…” Bruce grumbled in that deep voice of his, sounding pained and earnest and genuine, pulling at your heart like a trained harpist and making your eyes burn with brimming tears. He meant it, meant it more than you knew, staring at you with so much emotion in his eyes it almost scared you to see it; it was so unlike him to be so emotional, a part of you grateful that he trusted you enough to show it.

You felt a tingle on your skin when you looked back at him, a spark of joy peeking through the dark clouds around you. I could never move on from you…

Bruce’s dark eyes flickered between yours, gauging your reactions, intense and brooding as they always were. They bore into you like he was laying your soul bare in front of him, seeing deeper inside of you than you thought was possible. It made you feel flustered and agitated at being examined so fiercely. His voice, my god his voice, so soft but so gravelly, made you flustered, especially hearing it again after so many weeks of going without it. It washed over your skin like a warm blanket and made goosebumps pop up on your arms, a chill going through your spine that made your heart spike. You were trying so hard to fight it, fight that feeling inside of you that wanted him so badly.

You almost scoffed at his proclamation, looking at him offended, almost too theatrically, too rehearsed.

“Well it seems like you did, so.” You shrugged stubbornly, not knowing what else to say, really, not wanting to speak too much or else you’re afraid he’d hear the longing stutter in your voice. You shook your head incredulously and looked at the wall besides the window, where he stood outside in the cold air still. Secretly, you wanted to bring him inside already, bring him between your arms and hold him against your chest until he was one with you, unable to leave and bound to you forever, souls entwined and breaths shared. That may be a tad dramatic, but that’s what you felt; you knew he needed to cross that barrier on his own… you also knew that the moment he stepped back into your sacred space, the moment his heavy black boot stepped onto your wooden floor, you wouldn’t be able to keep your composure anymore, and you’d collapse in his arms like a dying bride.

Obviously, that couldn’t happen. You needed resistance, strength, a reason.

You couldn’t look at him, didn’t want him to see the tears welling in your eyes and the vulnerability staining your face. It was too embarrassing and too real; you didn’t want Bruce to see how easily you got worked up because of him. You didn’t want him to see all of you just yet, wanted him to feel guilty for what he did to you. He hadn’t even said much, just a single sentence, and you were already a desperate mess hiding under a false security. It was always so easy for him to get to you and you wished you were stronger for it.

Bruce knit his eyebrows at that, subtly shaking his head with a frown as his eyes still searched for yours. He wanted you to look at him, to see the honesty in his words and the sincerity in his blue eyes. He wanted you to see that he was hurting too, just as much as you.

“I didn’t… I just needed some time away… I needed to think.” He confessed vaguely, his voice gentle like he didn’t want to spook you, quiet but just loud enough for you to hear. Bruce always treated you like you were so fragile, a slippery glass vase between his clumsy hands. He never wanted to drop you, hurt you and watch you crumble into a million pieces… but he already did, and now he was trying to glue them all back together, put you back together, but only if you’d let him.

That was something you had come to appreciate about him; his gentleness, so opposite of the image he represented, what everyone believed him to be. He wasn’t just Batman, vengeful and harsh and dangerous. He wasn’t just bloody fists and sharp edges. He was incredibly genuine and tender, complex and multilayered; he was more than the bat, the symbol, the orphan, the millionaire. He was intricately sewn together with all different threads, and over the course of the year you and Bruce shared together you’ve managed to pluck and pull them all, see the warm center inside his cold shell.

Those were sides of him only you got to see, only you got to witness, only you got the privilege to marvel at and cherish. It might have been foolish to think, and you certainly think so now, but you had thought that made you special, that you were the only one he trusted enough, cared for enough, to show that side to… that there was more affection sizzling between you than you both wanted to say… but that just made it hurt so much more when he left, it just convinced you that you were too gullible for love, too naive to tell the difference between love and infatuation. When he left, he made you feel stupid.

You furrowed your eyebrows at his response, your face twisting into an anger Bruce didn’t want to see. Your eyes flashed to him immediately, burning and piercing and blazing, his words bouncing around in your head like a twisted game of racquetball. To think? He left, for months, because he needed to think? It sounded so phony, a simple excuse to disguise the truth, a simple excuse that only angered your unspoken pain.

“To think? To think about what? You’ve been gone for weeks, Bruce! You just left, didn’t tell me anything, didn’t tell me why, but now you’re telling me it’s because you had to think? That sounds ridiculous. I think I deserve a better explanation than, you had to think.” You mocked him, scoffing in his face. You were frustrated and lonely, wanting, deserving, a better reason to justify the pain you went through when he left. You couldn’t believe he couldn’t at least grant you that, a credible reason why.

Bruce grimaced, eyes closing like the sting of your words had just stung him. He slouched, frustrated that he couldn’t seem to get the words out that he wanted to. They were stuck in his throat, itching his tongue and wanting so badly to get out, but he was mute, could only try to explain himself. Besides, there were no words to express just how sorry he was, but he knew how right you were. You were always right. You did deserve more than that, you deserved a better explanation.

Bruce swallowed down his dry throat, clenching his jaw as he looked back up at you, aching to step through the threshold of the window and grab your face between his broken hands and kiss your tears away. He felt hot coils of guilt and regret wrap around his heart and squeeze, his chest collapsing in on itself.

“I-I know how it sounds, but it’s the truth. I needed to think… and to do that I had to leave. I just needed to understand why.” He spoke raspy, voice gritted with anguish and sincerity, looking at you with such desperation it made your foot itch to step towards him, made your heart yearn to comfort him. He was downright pitiful, fingers holding onto the brick so hard it could crumble under his strength. He was slouched down, looking up at you with sunken eyes, begging and pleading without an ounce of shame.

You stared back at him, clenching your jaw so hard your teeth hurt. God, you really did just want to hold him again, kiss him again… the need was too much, burning inside you and crawling under your skin. You had your hands crossed over your chest like you were physically trying to hold yourself back, like you were trying to protect yourself against his woeful whims of persuasion.

You frowned at his statement, the rational part of your brain that was still logical and loyal to you making you want to question him more, learn more, find out more. Your shoulders slumped as you looked back at him confused, lips pulled in a frown.

“Why what? Think about what? Can you stop being so vague!” You said exasperated, wishing he would just say what he meant and stop being so damn secretive all the time. Especially now, especially here. He was the one who showed up here after all this time and now he was trying to just sneak by with it. You refused to let him, forced him to confront his own dilemma. You couldn’t see it any other way, blinded by your own rose colored rage that needed an explanation.

Bruce grit his teeth, working up the nerve to answer you as he looked down at your feet, looking physically pained. He wanted to tell you why, he wanted to tell you why so badly, but just as soon as he wanted to say it he was found at a loss for words, struck with that same fear again that made his words stutter. That same fear of being rejected, ridiculed, that fear of putting his heart on his sleeve and having you pierce it with a silver dagger. He was Batman, the shadow of shadows who dealt with worse pain than you could ever imagine. He’s been shot, stabbed, cut up, pushed out of a window, and any other horror you could ever imagine but somehow… none of that hurt would ever compare to the pain caused by your rejection.

You had the power to destroy him and you didn’t even know it. You didn’t know how much of him you carried with you, how easily you could make him fall. Against Gotham he was the Dark Knight, relentless, strong and menacing, capable of things you didn’t want to think about. Against you… he was nothing, powerless, a twig in your hand you could crush without a thought. He was weak against your beauteous thrall and he just wished he could’ve admitted that to himself so much sooner.

Bruce felt his heart constrict, his palms suddenly clammy and his throat suddenly dry; he swallowed roughly. His own heart pounded in his ears, beating under his hot skin, the reality of what he was about to say hitting him full force and he felt like he could pass out, right here on your fire escape, light headed and heavy chested.

He let out a big breath through his nose, gripping the wall between his bloody gloved hands, mustering up the confidence he needed and pushing his fear down, down and deep so it couldn’t be acknowledged anymore. He smothered his insecurities and doubts like a candle wick, clenched his jaw and cleared the smoke from his mind. Bruce looked up at you, eyes glimmering like fire light as they looked over your form once more. He looked up from your socks and your feet, up to your smooth legs and pink nightgown, up to your face, where he focused intently on your lips and nose and eyes.

You looked back at him, where he was staring at you with a type of ferocity and intensity it had your breath stuck in your throat, chills going down your spine.

“…Why I was in love with you.”

You swore your heart stopped.

╰✦･ﾟ✵ 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈: how it all fell together 𓂃⊹

⋆˙⟡♡ Of course, you loved him back, and Bruce couldn’t have been happier about it. But, during the actual relationship he was very much still the same, but you could see that he was trying to be closer to you, it was just hard for him. You helped him, made him feel not so scared.

⋆˙⟡♡ You were patient with him, never judged or pushed him to do things you knew he had a hard time doing. He always wanted to talk to you about his parents but he would stop himself before he went in depth about it. That was something he needed time with, and you understood it.

⋆˙⟡♡ He was always doing small things for you that you probably wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t so focused on him. He would always smooth out your pillows for you, make you breakfast and be shy that he made something you didn’t like, he would even blow out your candle for you if you ever left it lit. He would give you small gifts, sometimes expensive, a bracelet or a necklace, a set of earrings his mother adored. You loved them all.

⋆˙⟡♡ You had to buy him those vanilla bean and raspberry candles you had. He set them up around his home because the smell reminded him of you and your house, his safe space.

⋆˙⟡♡ He still didn’t like to talk, but he loved to listen. He’d ask questions that were deeply intimate and personal because he wanted to know everything about you. He’d apologize for prodding but he really had no shame about it. He wanted to know you more, learn everything.

⋆˙⟡♡ He loved holding you in his sleep, you made his nightmares go away and made him feel less lonely. He would still flinch sometimes, keep his hands at appropriate distances away from your precious parts. He was a gentleman, that was for sure.

⋆˙⟡♡ He didn’t sleep a lot still, so he’d always stare at you when you slept, brush his hand on your cheek when he’d leave in his Batman suit for the night. He hated leaving you, but knew he had responsibilities to his city he couldn’t abandon.

⋆˙⟡♡ He introduced you to Alfred, rather, Alfred went to clean up Bruce’s room early in the morning and found you two in a rather compromising position. He just chuckled and walked out while Bruce awkwardly scrambled to compose himself. You were mortified.

⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce liked to draw you a lot, most of the time from memory when he was bored on a late night, sitting on a rooftop with charcoal scratching on ripped paper. He didn’t show them to you, but you found them anyway.

⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce was soft, gentle with you, but sex was a different story, just depended on his day. Most of the time he was sweet, making up for leaving you and hurting you. He always carried so much guilt about it, even when you told him you were over it and understood why he did it.

⋆˙⟡♡ He didn’t come out with you as a couple to the press, as Bruce Wayne. He didn’t want them to badger you and question you, make you feel uncomfortable. He came to you a lot, his house was always under constant scrutiny from the public.

⋆˙⟡♡ He threatened your boss when you refused to quit your job. It was late, he was Batman, and your boss just so happened to walk past him. Bruce threw him against the wall with promises of pain if he didn’t treat you right. You had a sneaky suspicion your boyfriend had something to do with your now positive work atmosphere and sudden raise, but decided not to question him.

⋆˙⟡♡ He was always touching you, or kissing you, hesitant to show outright affection so he was subtle when he did it. A hand on your lower back, hovering over your jacket or gently pressing into it. A hand on your arm, a peck on your forehead, a kiss to your cheek when you’d fall asleep.

⋆˙⟡♡ He told you he loved you every night, rarely ever during the day. It was in his bed or yours, when it was silent and cozy, he’d whisper it in your hair or against your skin, and you’d smile and tell him the same.

⋆˙⟡♡ You never expected anything from him besides his love, but he always felt like he owed you something, grateful that you gave him this chance to be with you despite what he did.

⋆˙⟡♡ He was constantly worried about you, on edge when you would be out by yourself or come home later than usual on the nights he couldn’t see you. He would always think the worst, think you were dead and he was too late, someone found him out and was using you to blackmail him. All the worst scenarios to prepare himself for the worst outcomes.

⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce is constantly having negative intrusive thoughts. You’ll leave him, he doesn’t deserve you, he should’ve stayed gone. He’ll go quiet and try to isolate himself when that happens, so you always try and support him and reassure him in any way you can.

⋆˙⟡♡ He still has such a hard time being vulnerable and talking about his past, but he tries with you. He’ll get tongue tied sometimes or a sentence will drift off before he can finish it, but he’ll try.

⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce is always so busy he forgets to eat. You’ll constantly remind him food is good for you. So, some days he’ll go eating nothing at all, despite you and Alfred’s insistence. But when he does, it’s a big feast Alfred prepares for him.

⋆˙⟡♡ He is very sweet, a complete gentleman. He has the best manners. He always says his pleases and his thank yous. He’ll follow a question with, when you have a chance, if you can. With Alfred though he’ll be so distracted he’ll just walk away. He doesn’t mean to, just makes sure he’s extra gentle with you.

⋆˙⟡♡ He likes black and white films to play in the background when he’s not doing anything. Or slow, almost gothic music to really set the tone. He’s emo like that and I just know it.

⋆˙⟡♡ He goes to Alfred a lot for relationship advice, scared he’ll mess up and you’ll leave him. He wants to avoid making mistakes with you, so he’ll ask for help or reassurance on what to do.

⋆˙⟡♡ Bruce has a tendency to ignore any problem until it goes away, especially to avoid a fight with you. He’s confrontational when it comes to you, so he’ll let you have your way a lot of the time. He doesn’t like to fight with you.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ Bruce was sweet and shy, always making sure you were comfortable and had everything you needed. He never judged you when you’d tell him your stories or your past, he never accused you of things, and he never raised his voice at you when things would get frustrating. He loved you too much, appreciated you too much. You had no idea how happy you made him even if his face didn’t show it.

He was still wary, scared you’ll leave him, scared one of his enemies will find you out and take you away from him. But he was always there, watching and protecting, hiding in the shadows, being the shadow, on the nights you didn’t know. He may have been Gotham’s protector, but he was also yours.

He loved you and was grateful for you, so grateful he met you when he did and that you trusted him enough to let him see every lovely part of you. He vowed to protect you, to cherish you, and he made good on that promise. Even going as far as to blow out your candle every day before you’d leave for work. Couldn’t have you burning your house down, now could he?

Honestly, I could go on and on about this man so I think I have to end this here. But thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed, especially @diavolosbaby who requested this. I really hope you like it, and if you’re not satisfied or I didn’t answer your ask correctly then don’t be afraid to tell me 💕💕 constructive criticism isn’t bad mmkay ☺️💕

[k9punkout]

sharing my thoughts on this image cuz it's eating away at me

so this is what (im pretty sure) the text above them says and implies

luka: breathing test- makes sense due to the respirator he has. acing a test on breathing is really funny to me, but as much as i'd like to leave it at that i think luka canonically has asthma. the aliens were probably tweaking with that/torturing him via his respiratory problems. he clearly gave them the response they wanted, considering he earned such a high grade. sobbing.

hyuna: superiority test- im still so interested about this one. while idk exactly what happened, it should be noted that hyuna's guardian, phan, is considered to be one of the highest class/most superior intergalactic lifeforms. maybe they only accept pet humans of the utmost best quality? also, we never see hyun-woo's scores/tests. it might be because he isn't a main character like hyuna is, but what if it implies that he fell short of phan's expectations? maybe that's why they didn't care enough to revive him after he died. that might've been a driving factor for why hyuna hates the segyein so much. hmmmm (im reaching)

ivan: smile test- considering the equipment, it's pretty obvious what went down here. i think this further confirms my theory on ivan being forced into masking his emotions with a smile, rather than just doing it to fit in. help him :((

sua: hearing ability(?)- i don't think we've been told anything about sua having TROUBLE hearing, but the aliens could've tweaked with her ears so she can hear her own music better and therefore perfect it? idk.

mizi: vision- i remember there was this old livestream where vivimeng said that there's technology in the alnst universe to fix mizi's vision problems, so this must be it. judging by the bandages, it seems to be some sort of surgery. it explains why she doesn't need her glasses anymore.

till: it just says "be obedient"-bandages are covering his ENTIRE face. whatever skin that's showing seems to be covered in bruises. it's very vague about what happened to him but i just know it's terrible. someone get him OUT OF THERE

im also wondering whether or not this is like. directly after these tests

it would make sense with luka, hyuna, and ivan, but sua doesn't seem to have anything attached to her ears, mizi's not only completely blindfolded here, but she's also being made to dance while her grade in the previous image is labeled "vision", and till looks much more docile than usual here (plus he's widely regarded as a musical genius so i doubt he'd get a low grade on instrument practice)

then again sua's hearing operation could've been performed after this (maybe a test on how hearing affects a human's voice?)

and mizi's dance test could've been right after her eye operation while the image of her grade could've been taken after one of her eyes healed.

as for till, he could've gotten that C simply because he played an entirely different song than what was assigned to him (which is in character, but i dont think it warrants that extreme of a beating or whatever it was they did to his face).

alternatively, he seems to have a tendency to act more tame before pulling a wild stunt (he was uncharacteristically obedient before killing freddie in r2, and his aggression at the karaoke scene was after a long period with little to no resistance), so he might've tried something violent halfway through the test.

moral of the story, no one's happy

[touchstoneaf]

I'm reading summaries and transcripts, and once in a while forcing myself to watch episodes of anything after season 3 of Smallville (solely so that I can rewrite them in a way that's much more coherent (and CLexy, but that goes w/o saying))... and my GOD, they are so dumb sometimes. Poor Michael. having to convincingly say shit like "your girlfriend was possessed by the ghost of a witch" with a straight face! (Side note what the actual fuck is the plot in this season? Season 4 is insane and I don't even want to talk about it.) Yes the show has always been a little goofy and has some storylines that are questionable... but they are really pushing it now.

Also one of the main strengths of the show is the chemistry between Michael and Tom, and yet they have full episodes where they don't even interact, and it's just like, *what* are you doing?! And then to top it off, each summary just gets more and more ridiculous and complicated as the seasons goes on, and I'm just like oh thank god I have simplified it in fanfiction! They are no damn witches (because let me not even get started on how witches are portrayed in most TV shows!), there are no spirits floating around trying to possess people (just because you have Kryptonite around does not mean you get to hand-wave literally anything at all. Why in the hell would a Kryptonite nodule or some dust cause ghosts to exist? It affects *living cells* with *radiation*. I don't even understand why they would make a decision like that. They really must have been desperate for stories already, and we're not even halfway through the show yet).

I'm not going to even get started on my main gripes with the show that have existed from the beginning, like turning Superman into a self-serving, abusive, selfish liar who lies, or the fact that their main "villain" was created out of victim-blaming and abuse and then everybody's just gleefully happy for Lex be treated like shit for no fucking reason whatsoever, while his Literally Evil father is turned into some kind of pseudo "good" guy. Cuz yeah, abusers should be redeemable. but their victims should end up alone and tortured and treated like shit by everybody around them. That totally makes sense. I won't get started, I really won't, because I will be here all day. Or the fact that nobody seems to have figured out that Clark is a meta at the very least, when he does all kinds of weird shit all the time. These people are smart. Chloe and Lex especially are not fucking stupid by any stretch. It just simply would not have taken them four or more years to realize that he could easily one of the mutants in town. Nobody would be shocked in the slightest; but they play it like they're just too stupid to figure it out, and it's terrible because Clark is the worst liar in the universe.

Also, somebody who's not yet Superman is not going to be fighting beings like Doomsday when they're still like 20. It's just not going to happen. I'm not even getting started on creepy stuff like how they're totally sexualizing someone who's playing a minor because she is their eye candy on the show. Lana and Kristin deserved better! The female lead who basically existed to further the two guys' storylines for like three seasons finally gets her own story... but it's about being possessed by an ancient witch or some shit? They are actually sexualizing her near death experience, like some kind of creepy PG snuff film (who actually made the decision of trying to make Lana being slowly suffocated a weird sexy vibe?! So fucking problematic I don't even know where to start). And then the male lead's other love interest is summarily killed by their cardboard cutout villain of the week with his lack of character development, simply so that she can't get in the way of Supes' future storyline, because she was literally created only to be a roadblock to his future goals, masquerading as something to keep him from actually being lonely to death. All she did wrong was to wish she could free of stigma about Mental Health... then shortly afterward, when she was essentially killed about it, he turns around and is fine again because he gets a football scholarship. What the fuck?! (Yes, I'm looking at you, Pariah).

I can't even with this show sometimes. I'm so glad I quit when I did. I tend to forget how insane and Incredibly questionable a lot of it is until I have to watch something of it in order to rewrite it. But I guess that's why there's fanfic in the first place!

[neteyamb]

ashes to ashes: chapter four

pairing: loak x f!omatikaya reader

summary: as a healer, y/n had taken an oath to treat every patient with their best interests in mind. this hadn’t been a problem, until loak’s petty injuries become a routine. she has to swallow her pride and feign concern, feign kindness, and face the ugly hate that has been brewing between them for years. 

tags: enemies to lovers, slight angst, mentions of blood/injury

word count: 1.3k

notes: a little rushed cuz im leaving for the airport in literally twenty minutes but they kiss you guys

⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧ ‧͙⁺˚*･

billie bossa nova

love when it makes you lose your bearings / it might be more of an obsession / you better lock your phone / and look at me when you're alone / won't take a lot to get you goin' / i'm sorry if it's torture though / that heavy breathin' on the floor / i’m yours, i'm yours 

nova – a star that suddenly increases its light output tremendously and then fades away to its former obscurity

it was debilitating, how loak had seen you for the first time. he so often had found comfort in your agitated manner and bitter tone, the two of you endlessly spitting hate at eachother in a vicious cycle; but just now, he had walked in on you talking to a man he didn’t recognize with relaxed features and soothing hands. it almost felt like he was invading, unwelcome and undeserving of the sight. and suddenly your hands were on him, foreign in their tranquility. fatigue clawed at his body as he stumbled away, but he was preoccupied; your delicate cheekbones and eased expression gripped at his chest. it was unbearable, agonizing, and loak felt antsy to get away. he all but ran from your hut, throat stinging with remorse. 

loak felt the urge to scrub the ghost of your touch off of him; rid himself of your clouding scent. he lowered himself into a stream despite the newly applied medicine coating his skin. he wasn’t ignorant to the way it washed off and left him in searing pain, but it was your fingers that put it there. loak scrubbed frantically with uneven breath, labelling the emotion that clung to him as disgust. 

✶✶✶✶

there was a large string of visitors pouring into the hut, fresh from the raid. uncertainty swam in your brain tauntingly, but there was no time to entertain it. it was hours before you and maiya sent the last of them off, both weary. as you collapsed into the seat beside her, your drained muscles screamed with exhaustion. after reveling in the stillness for some time, she slowly got up and brought an herbal tea to your hands. you glanced up at her and accepted it with gratitude.

“we did good work today, y/n. what you need now is rest.” looking down at the mug in your hands, you smile. you were relieved that your earlier argument hadn’t affected her attitude towards you, but your mind was elsewhere. why had loak left like that, disoriented and stand-offish? it made you suspicious, and slightly annoyed; his behaviour had been all over the place with you lately, and you didn’t have time to analyze the reason behind it. but still, the image of his shaking hands gnawed at your brain. finishing your tea with a final chug, you left maiya with an inattentive goodbye and went home.

✶✶✶✶

you had recently taken up weaving on kiri’s suggestion, but after a few sessions with her, your uncoordinated fingers still only left behind a knot in the material. you were perched on the ledge of a branch, not far from your usual gathering area. you groaned, toes curling in frustration after another failed attempt at making a simple pattern. how is it that you could stitch up a wound so easily but not command a single string of yarn to do your bidding? tossing it to the side, you mutter a few choice words before noticing movement on the ground below. you assumed it was kiri, watching as blue flashed through the leaves. she was the only other person you knew to walk this area. you hurriedly climb down the treetrunk, hoping to ask her for a little more help in the craft. 

as you approached the navi, you see that is definitely not kiri. loak’s muscles rippled under the skin of his back as he took long strides, not stopping as he spoke. “walk louder, will you?” an annoyed frown passed over your lips. while your ears weren’t as refined as his, you really weren’t making a lot of noise. you nudge his shoulderblade with force, sneering. why did he go out of his way to be play nice if he was just going to be a dick afterwards? “what’s your problem, loak? whatever game you’re playing at, i’m not interested.” he abruptly turned to you, gritting his teeth. “for fuck’s sake! just leave me alone, y/n.” you laugh at the irony of his statement. “excuse me? you’re the one who won’t get off my back. walking into my hut all the time, following me, looking through my journal–what the fuck is wrong with you?” frustration was quickly seeping its way into your bones; this whole situation was way too out of depth for your usual petty fights. it was becoming too personal, too close. the words you threw at eachother now carried weight.

loak squinted his eyes, feeling defensive. “let me make it clear. you have nothing i want. you’re just waiting on the sidelines all day to put bandaids on the people who actually fight. don’t get mad at me because you’re incapable of doing any other job. even if you do, you’re stuck with it,” he snarled, tail whipping behind him as he loomed over you. your hands began to shake with rage. “seriously, what would your grandmother say? or are you already such a disappointment that she wouldn’t even be surprised?” loak’s fiery eyes flamed down at you, hand reaching to grip your bicep hard in warning. “that would make two of us,” he spit.

you aimed a punch up at his face. loak was able to dodge it, but not before your fist grazed his chin. he growled, shoving you aggressively into the ground and throwing a leg over your torso. the way his teeth were barred so close to your face should have had you scared, but you were high off the adrenaline; basking in the familiarity of the argument after so much recent unease. your skin practically glowed. you yank hard at his queue in a fruitless attempt to pull him off of you, but he was quick to make a grab at your hands, crushing them harshly above your head with his own as he seethed. your lips curled into your teeth as you hissed at him, his eyes dropping to trace the action. your breaths mingled for a fraction of a second, heavy with unspoken words, before he dipped his face down to yours. he was adamant about avoiding your eyes while his mouth moved against yours drunkenly, as if to say: this doesn't mean anything.

his heavy, clouded eyes analyzed you in a trance; suddenly wanting more, yet very aware of your stillness against him. he had to play it right. he nudged his leg between your own. when you began to kiss him back with equal force, he felt feverish. loak’s lips pressed into yours harshly, prodding your mouth open eagerly with his tongue. your teeth clashed together and you stuttered under the weight of his mouth. you raised your head from the grass and shoved back against him, biting at his lips. the sound of irregular, shuddering breaths passed back and forth between the two of you, as if it was a conversation in itself. it all felt like too much. you rip yourself away from the kiss abruptly as if you were burned, and his tongue instead travels down your neck. your breath comes out in hot puffs, brows knitting together.

he was everywhere, and your head was spinning. this wasn't supposed to be happening. you were supposed to confront him, push him around, make him feel sorry. that was always how it went, how it should be going now. you began to feel restless under his touch as his large hands detached from your wrists in favour of roaming your body. they glide down your waist, grip at your hips, caress your thighs. your eyes began to swell with frustration as you clawed at his back; you felt like you were jumping out of your skin each time you reacted to him. wordless conversations weren't enough. you take advantage of your free hands, roughly pushing him off of you before you could reveal too much. "get the fuck out of here, loak."

⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧ ‧͙⁺˚*･

notes: i left for the airport and i forgot my laptop charger im going to kill ymself

taglist: @weasleytwinwheezes @mrslandryy

[nerves-nebula]

In exchange for my first born, could you please drop like a list of the original works youre currently invested in. With brief summaries/explanations. And maybe which OCs you’ve dropped, are from what story. Actually that’s a big ask… I raise the offer to do this for my first born and also a burger, please.

Well I am American so I suppose if there’s a burger on the line…

notes:

you can find every post i've ever made about any oc under the tag #nnoc

writing this made me realize i have a shit ton of OC's so i'm not going to write summaries of every character but i might put little blurbs next to the important ones.

im not gonna tag this with all the characters cuz thats too much rn. i'll just link it in my pinned or something.

Loose stitches / loose stitches related (comic):

My ongoing webcomic about feeling out of place in society & trying to go home

Dotty, Atchkie, Quinton (<- main characters of the comic) reg, willow, eden, Osard, Leilah, king eland, Bella-Bonnie, Cub strong, Pep strong, Clark, Beaumont, Leal Liggett, (related: Quinn, Clement, Hondo, Thatcher (they are also found under the tag Hanheppi)) + a bunch of characters I haven’t posted about yet

Etik/Maureno/Groe (no official name)

two immortals who hate/love each other co-parent an autistic girl with aspirations to save the rest of her siblings from their evil mom

Etik Allwile, Maureno Badger, Groe Caluna, Bee Caluna, Zaire, etiks 10 siblings, Benbeck, Margo

Lavonne & Ink Trap

some fairly new characters (ink trap & Lavonne) they’re a lesbian couple, one of them is rich and pays the other to write a popular critically acclaimed book series so that she can take the credit for it. Not much else to say so far ive been focusing on other stories

SA priest game (takes place in same setting as Quinn, Hondo, Thatcher & Clement)

an idea for a game that was originally gonna be about a priest getting sexually assaulted in their temple but has kind of spiraled and turned into something else entirely. very much under active construction and prone to change drastically at any point in time.

Characters: Soot, Benison, Brawn, Ife, Quinn (they are also found under the tag Hanheppi)

Mule story

mule, Hascroth, Asadenya, Helenjack, Nicodemus

Chosen one shit (ck2)

Queenie(fake chosen one), Monday Archell (real chosen one)

Object head apocalypse

an apocalypse setting where the apocalypse monsters eat all humans except for object head people

Characters: Toasty (toaster object head), Marcus nightmare, Apple nightmare, Ezra and pet (2 characters who are also 1 character)

OCs made for my tmnt iteration:

Tmnt pasiflora (Donnie’s kid), Abe (guy who sexually abused children), Adelaide (Donnie’s shitty college gf),

Other miscellaneous characters:

Misha Mistaka & Kiln (torture OCs from high school math class)

Fella (main character of a video game idea I had as a teen)

Avin & wells (part of a comic I tried to make as a kid about a shapeshifter society, some of my first gay characters to get to exist in a wider story)

Pasiflora (existed before the tmnt version as a super villain who turned a hero to their side by treating him better than his hero coworkers did)

[nekotime]

Eeeeeeek!! 🥰 I love them to much, still same person 😗

Maybe a second one isn’t to bad but can I ask for moaning prank on Mean Dom Jean, then running away but seems like you got caught 👀

There’s never anything about our acting grandmaster she deserves more 🥰

╭₊˚ ๑ ᘓ︵ꪒ⑅ꪒ ⌣ ✦ ꒱ లㅤ scream it.

┊ Pairing : Jean

┊ Genre : Smut

┊ Cw : Mean!dom!Jean, Afab!Reader, Kinda of predator dinamic, Reader being chased, Degradation, Strap-On, Use of pet names ( Doll &' Darling ), Exhibitionism, Choking.

┊ Notes : Thanks for the idea again, anon!! I'm still learning to write mean dom's...I hope the way I write is good enough 4 u ～ ๑´ ³`)ﾉ Enjoy !!! ♥︎

╰・୨ ❏︶ ⊹ ˚ ₊

⠀꛱|꛱ ꛱͜ |꛱|꛱ ꛱͜ |꛱꛱|꛱ ꛱͜ |꛱|꛱ ꛱͜ |꛱| ꛱͜ |꛱| ꛱͜ |⠀୨୧⠀꛱|꛱ ꛱͜ |꛱| ꛱͜ |꛱| ꛱͜ |꛱|꛱ ꛱͜ |꛱|꛱ ꛱͜ |꛱|꛱ ꛱͜ |

Jean was used to your playfull nature, after all, you are her happy virus! Always making a smile prop up on her stressed face, even with a joke who isn't at all funny. Some people saw it just as an assistant trying to help their boss, but both of you knew it was the purest kind of love.

Recently, you started being into pranks. Throwing some water on an annoying favonious knight, startling people with fake spiders...Jean was okay with it, if you didn't get too addicted to it. After all, whatever makes you smile is good for her, right?

That is, until she was the main victim of your pranks.

‿︵‿ㅤㅤYou enter her office, Jean still too focused on her work to even say hello. You always understood her side, but it was still a small bruise...What could better lighten up your mood than playing with your girlfriend a bit, right? A blushed expression on your face, shirt not buttoned up completely and breathing uneasy. Jean looked at you with a troubled expression, random possibilities of what happened to you going trough her mind. ― What brings you here, doll? Your work time is over and... ― You interrupt her with a hand feeling her heart, hot breath against the shell of her ear as a sweet moan escapes your lips. Running away in a giggle. That was enough.

Uh Oh. You just now noticed that you did something stupid. Really fucking stupid. Hiding underneath a table as both of your hands are keeping your mouth shut. Jean laughs in an annoyed tone, making your body trembling in fear...So why was it so good? ♥︎

― Got'cha. ― Jean teases as her hands pull at your hair. ― W-WAIT! Jean, it was just a prank..! ― You respond to her actions, your ass rubbing against the strap-on in her pants. ― Oh, I know, Darling...I'm just helping you to proceed it. ― She laughs in a lovely tone, as her pretty cock finds itself at the deepest walls of yours, pinching at your bud.

Jean fucking you in a rhythm so slow it's torturous, tears dropping from your eyes as you spill so many apologies. ― Stop being such a coward. You asked for this, so no backing up now.. ― You could see the grin on her, even with your face squeezed against the window, so many teens paralysed and laughing at you. Just knowing that people were watching you being so fucked out was enough to make you cum. ― So quickly..? It was not for me, hm? ― Your eyes open wide, breath uneasy as her hands choke you against the window, the loud echo of your wetness being stuffed over and over. ― M SORRY! SO SORRY..! J-jeeann ～ ― You scream with a tint of hope that she was going to be a bit more kind, but you knew it was your fault.

⠀ׅ ✹⠀࣪ ꒰ 当て ꒱ ، ♱

໒꒰ ♡◞ ˕ ก ꒱১ I'm soo sorry that it's short :[ I'm taking long to write cuz I got terribly sick, awk. .

But I'm gonna be strong soon and post a bunch of super duper ultra mega pure smuts /j ᰨ ᵔ࣪ ࣪ᵔ ೀ )

[circuitspeeder]

RED VS BLUE RESTORATION SPOILERS

This is stuff I liked :D

Can I just say how fucking good caboose was in this? I genuinely adored competent caboose, and he still felt very in character, to me at least.

The way all the AI’s were still so in character even after all these years had me happy. Sigma also got to drop his ‘manipulator’ persona and got to just be cruel which feels in character but I can see how some might not like it.

Sigma snapping a bit at Theta then Delta telling Sigma to fuck off and leave him alone then telling Theta to come by him was fucking adorable. Delta and Theta fans stay winning. 💪

The felix part still confuses the fuck out of me but the way I’ve chosen to interpret it is Sigma basically just taking felix’s voice to specifically fuck with tucker. (Aka they couldn’t get big actor no more so miles is now sigma)

Sigma could have potentially also taken some of Felix’s personality cuz no way bro was like ‘i’m gonna sit in a glass box and pretend I’m a statue then jump out at them when they come looking! This shit is gonna be so funny!’ Like 😭😭

The way The Meta also just kinda throws shit around like a toddler is funny to me, but also sort of helps show that he isn’t exactly 100% there.

The Caboose and Tucker scene fucked me up. 10/10 no notes for that. Caboose’s VA also fucking killed that scene.

479er and Shelia was fucking amazing. Along with the small gag with Lopez at the beginning. I hate how they later just disappear but I’m happy we got them at all.

Kai is literally my favorite character behind Grif. At the very least I’m happy we got ANYTHING from her.

Seeing Tucker being tortured the way they tortured the Alpha, and possibly Maine was so cool, but also fuck you for that.

Idk if I’m 100% correct on this, but it seems like the machinima parts on charon’s ship were green screened. I could be wrong but it looked a bit wonky sometimes.

First time Grif salutes Sarge is when he’s fucking dead. Fuck me.

The memories around the fire, and Grif finally being given the option to leave was all stuff I liked. Grif choosing to stay to at least fight the Meta was cute.

Tex coming back instead of church was actually fucking gold. This version being made from positive memories was also perfect.

Hearing Round 1/Bullfight, like I said before, got me hard instantly.

Tex and Carolina fighting together, loved it, but they did feel far weaker than we have previously seen them.

Small nit pick, the figh animation was great, but they still have the camera issue where it just sorta floats around a bit when it could help to better enhance what was happening, but I still loved the fight.

God the lighting on the animated bits was so fucking pretty.

Tex and Church (or Allison and Leonard) finally getting to fucking rest was 🙏 That part genuinely had me in tears.

Then after that it’s sorta down hill for me, but I will say how I can understand how some might think Grif leaving was a good thing.

Again rvb0 cameo made me throw up in my mouth-

I did love how Dr.Gray mentioned that Donut was an admiral. Good for him.

Grif telling Simmons to come with him had me kicking my feet like a little girl.

Grif and Simmons honestly felt so much closer this season. They felt like genuine friends, and while I kinda knew we weren’t gonna get it canonized they still carried, along with Caboose.

I do over all prefer the season 15-17 time line, along with the OG scrapped season 18 we could have gotten, but this was a fine ending. At the very least I hope they enjoyed making it.

[cozymochi]

on a semi sillier note i kinda been holding back on ever talking more in detail about that “watching every mainline disney animated film” challenge (which was actually re-completed a while ago after a completionism compulsion took over. But im not even playin’ when i say it’s a challenge, i mean that deadass— this junk is not easy) CUZ THERE’s SOOO much to say. Im sure going chronologically would’ve gave a better through-line but tbh this junk went on for years on/off for life reasons so its not like anyone was binging (binging probably would have been a bad choice with this lol)

Funny I never showed my tier list for that lol but, honestly in retrospect i dont even think a tier list fully encapsulates how that all felt ON WHAT I THink was an actually really interesting thing to analyze and go through 😩 …mostly on a personal note I found it really fascinating in retrospect. Cuz telling anybody outside of the person i was doing this with always was met with polarizing responses. Either it’s mild interest or feeling bad for me like i was putting myself through torture or something (tho trust, there are some agonizing ones in there)

Or as per anytime I talk to people- I get cut off and the topic changes to something else before I can finish a sentence. 💀 classic Cozy W. I JUST!! I DUNNO!!! Sometimes i really just wanna go full red string and pin board with it.

[winterslibrary]

"...oh, doctor Lucianna! I have to admit, for as long as I've been working here and trust me, I've spent majority of my life here, I never saw anyone else as talented and dedicated as Lucien. Despite their own issues with health, they continue helping other patients and fighting tirelessly for those letting out their last breaths... I still fail to understand why do you think they are related to those disappearances. Our Lucien is a good soul, they wouldn't hurt a fly. Wasn't that man a criminal either way? I get that it's your responsibility take care of this, but isn't it better that that man is gone?"

━ ISABEL, head surgeon, about LUCIANNA

NAME: LUCIANNA, also known as LUCIEN or LUCIE. RARITY: 5 STAR COMBAT TYPE: QUANTUM PATH: ABUNDANCE USUALLY RESIDES IN: PENACONY

IMPORTANT: lucianna is non-binary and uses they/them! i personally call them by lucie but lucien and lucianna are also a-okay. they usually introduce themselves as lucien though. also both fem and masc terms are okay !! everything's written in more general language than trying to pull out my writing braincells cuz i have none for now </3 but... for sure i will write write something with them at one point.

GENERAL NOTES: Although Lucie usually resides in Penacony, the hospital they work at is on completely different planet. They tend to travel a lot because of that, one day chilling among luxuries of the Penacony's Golden Hour, the next day rushing to a hospital for a sudden emergency! It can be tiring sometimes, truly. But Penacony gives them enough time to rest before another week spent working on sick or dying patients. There's something else they do between their job, though...

(tws for: human experimentation, medical malpractice, cults and (mass) murder in lucie's backstory. feel free to skip that part !!)

BACKSTORY: There's thing thing, you see. Lucie from always was a rather sick child, struggling with their health and at one point things got so bad, that Lucie truly believed the end was near. With no money to afford proper medicine, only thing left was pray for a miracle, and yet what Lucie got was a curse under the guise of one.

Because they were young and desperate to live, when a mysterious doctor offered them medicine that could save them they instantly agreed, unaware how big the pay would be for their life.

That doctor turned out to be a part of a group of abundance followers, that in the name of Yaoshi would perform... rather questionable medical experiments, be it on medicine, be it on other human livings and Lucie, not wanting to lose their only source of medicine, forced themselves to join the group and assist them in whatever experiments they were doing, even if it included hurting other people.

Luckily, with time Lucie managed to learn how to brew their own medicine– alongside with more general knowledge regarding medicine, which allowed them to run away from that terrible group of people, self-called followers of Yaoshi yet filthy liars in reality. But not without a revenge, no.

To this day people wonder who– or what killed that group one by one, everyone dropping dead like some flies... Lucie wouldn't know. They are happy to be the only survivor and to be finally free.

After that, Lucie started expanding their medical knowledge– turns out that when you don't have to literally torture people with poisons and dangerous surgeries, medicine is quite interesting! And that was how Lucie ended up working in a hospital, slowly climbing their way up, soon becoming one of the best doctors out there. They genuinely care about their patients, always willing to stay up nights and weeks to ensure that someone survives.

That doesn't mean Lucie completely let their past away, no. They spent years in that... weird group, among these people using an aeon to commit atrocities on often innocent people. And Lucie, as much as they wouldn't want to admit to that, a big chunk of their knowledge learned from all these experiments and dangerous researches they were forced to either witness or lead. It was unethical and terrible, but...

That dangerous side of medicine, it was an interesting one– and if researched in proper surroundings, the results could benefit everyone! From finding out new poison antidotes, to learning about toxins, how human's body functions and so, so many others...

Please, if you ever hear screaming coming from the lower levels of the hospital, don't mind it. You didn't hear it and doctor Lucianna is busy, so it's best you wait here and don't go bothering them. You wanted to talk about that criminal who just... suddenly disappeared, right? A nice chat won't hurt anyone.

MISCELLANEOUS:

━ Lucie is a cane user. They use a cane majority of the time, even in Penacony, but they don't need it always. Some days are better, some days are worse. Nonetheless, they keep it around all the time because their cane, in reality, is also a concealed blade. Great to defense!

━ Despite what one might think, they genuinely are a nice, sweet person, always willing to help, sometimes they even appear quite naive and stupid but don't believe it, Lucie is far away from being a little, naive sweetheart. Although, that attitude stays even when they are experimenting on someone... it's unsettling, sometimes.

━Their work schedule is chiller than a normal doctor's though. They are allowed to have more free time and they don't have to be at the hospital all the time. It's because their health is already quite poor and they tend to overwork themselves, so they more time to rest, to be able to perform their duties.

━ Close with Aventurine, their relationship is... interesting to say the least. For sure Lucie is his little lucky charm (meaning, more of a bodyguard and someone to bother while gambling all his money away) but they also are his sound of reason, always complaining at him to stop gambling so much, you're going to do something stupid and finally lose a game and, please, stop spending so much on me, I have no ways of paying you back anymore...

━ They enjoy researching on medicine, toxins, antidotes and poisons a lot. Genuinely they do. It's an interesting topic and they are quite good at that! Lucie did, in fact, made their own medicine after all...

━ Their post attack animation is literally them spinning their cane on the back of their hand. It's a little extra. A little fancy.

A/N NOTES: ueue. it is a little rough YES but im currently going through a writer block so dont mind the roughness HAHAHA im gonna... add more stuff one day. lucie's still kind of a wip so that too. anywyahashagsh introductions done!! voicelines next. also, have a lucie picrew as i struggle with their outfit and full design </3 have a great day everyone my back HURTS also i decided to not describe their personality just yet... because i dont like doing that. yeah im really gonna give u guys more lucie lore WHEN IM DONE WORKING ON THEM ok bye fr

[catnykit]

🄸🄽🅃🅁🄾🄿🄾🅂🅃

♖☯ 𓃠 𓃬𓃠 𓃬𓃠 𓃬𓃠 𓃬𓃠 𓃬𓃠 𓃬𓃠🥀🕳

Hi!!! Cat here :3 I spawned here and im figuring stuff out. Like i dont know what im doing this might be in constant change.

Info about me is in the desc!! I didnt think I would need a intropost but well,Here we are!

some things you might want to know about the blog are:

I constantly join ask games and then completly forget so if youre gonna ask based on an ask game aslo link the ask game pls ♡

I dont exacly have a dni,Just interact with me and we'll see!

I LOVE being tagged or getting asks so if you think anything is from my interest,Or anything that reminded you of me or my ocs,Dont hesitate (Or do hesitate to check for the things i avoid below this first I guess)

(IMPORTANT NOTE: I AM LITERALLY SCARED OF ANY KIND OF IRL HOSTILITY,OR DRAMA. LIKE. EVEN WHEN ITS NOT DIRECTED TOWARDS ME,IT WILL TRIGGER ME AND UPSET ME. I AM AN EXTREMELY SKITTISH CREATURE. TAKE THIS IN MIND.)(maybe releted to whats below 👇)

This blog is a safe place to ignore reality for a bit or atleast I try to make it as fictional as possible,I'll always tag "#Reality tw" whenever I consider something is on thin ice but I feel the need to reblog it. aslo. #rageposting is common here so i I recommend you block that tag

So,Welcome to this strange realm! Here we have cat biology and Angsty whump writing!

(Aka:Beware because there is a lot of fictional yet fucked up untagged work)(aslo just ask me about cat biology i can't find thigs to reblog ᴖ̈)

Thats basically it,In fact,This blog was supposed to be a whump blog is just that I repost all kinds of stuff,Even my hyperfixiations and fandoms sometimes!!! And more! You can even find my random thoughts under #Cat says stuff

Im a writter for fun but I aslo like my tiny witty piece of recognition,So if you like one of my stories,

I BEG YOU,COMMENT ABOUT IT I normally dont have the energy to actually write down my stories,So if you want to see more make sure of atleast leave a keyboard smash for support♡

And finally,Here's my own fucked up whumpy writing! :D (Slow,random updates♡)

🫀▁ ▂ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ █ 🐈‍⬛█ ▇ ▆ ▅ ▄ ▂ ▁ 🫁

Writing (mostly whump)ideas:

Whump idea#0 whumpee's by control (old)

whump idea #1【woods+maggots+insanity? Not a good deal.】

Whump idea#2 【THE TORTURE JAR+NONHUMAN GIANT WHUMPER & CARETAKER】

The Original Stories

(Fun Fact about my masterlist: i put the tag of stuff on the tittle)

🅃🄷🄴 🄲🅄🅁🅂🄴 🄾🄵 🄽🄾🅆🄷🄴🅁🄴: MAIN TW: IMPLIED MURDER,PSYCHOLOGICAL WHUMP Deidamia rotari,Better known as The Nowhere Killer,Passes throught all sorts of horrors in this one-shot collection series that the author will upload randomly and if it makes sense or not is independent. This is just the author having fun with an OC and it will NOT be chronological . (It will be numbered anyway to avoid confusion)

(More ocs may spawn)

....

(....or despawn.)

🅵🅾🅻🅻🅾🆆🅸🅽🅶 🅵🅻🅾🅰🆃🅸🅽🅶 🆂🆃🅴🅿🆂(PSEUDO CANCELLED) : MAIN TW: IMPLIED MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH

The idea is to see the world in the eyes of a ghost. I dont know if I can put this idea on paper properly,Time will say weird ass hiatus cuz im planning to MAYBE remake this. who knows (not me).

FRAGMENT 1: A POOR DEVIL (MAIN TW: SUICIDAL THEMES,OLD AND IN NEED OF REMAKE)

🫀▁ ▂ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ █ 🐈‍⬛█ ▇ ▆ ▅ ▄ ▂ ▁ 🫁

My favorite writing tropes are (In order): EMOTIONAL/PSYCHOLOGICAL WHUMP. WHUMPER(S) BEING HURT,AKA DYNAMIC/REVERSING ROLES. SELF HARM WHUMP/SUICIDE. CHEERFULL/SADISTIC WHUMPER. LAB WHUMP/MEDICAL WHUMP. STOIC/NONLACHANT WHUMPEE. PET WHUMP/CONDITIONED WHUMPEE. COSMIC WHUMP. WHUMPER TURNED CARETAKER(again,dynamic roles.) SPECIFIC WHUMP THINGS I LIKE: suffocation n variarions Fainting Human whumpee × Nonhuman caretaker DETAILED GORE/VIVISECTION N STUFF(ironic cuz my love is between extreme gore and extreme trauma in a constant tug-of-war ♡) My squicks are: editing this,Anything that's frustrating. now,here's a list; bad endings. Recapture. ...and that's it! im still findind out.

My Triggers are: I am starting to belive im D*ck repulsed. or suggestive intimacy repulsed? idk

♖☯ 𓃠 𓃬𓃠 𓃬𓃠 𓃬𓃠 𓃬𓃠 𓃬𓃠 𓃬𓃠 🥀🕳

[dannylovesstuff]

She was once a powerful witch, she was alone and envious to others witches with better magic as her, she was frustrated and alone no pet no nothing except she can make cookies. She decided to make the cookies out the witches that she envy and make them alive and after it she eat them all alive with no remorse. She tortured and play with them until at the end she eat them, she felt satisfied and want to do more until a cookie that escape from her decided to fight back, the cookie found a wand that belongs to the witch and wen she look towards the cookie it was to late to see. She was struck by her own magic

She thought she was dead, later she woken up she was confused what was happening until she saw herself, she became a cookie. She tried to scream but she couldn’t make a sound she had no mouth after a laughing was come from above, it was a pumpkin beard head that was muse over her stressful situation. It was the cookie who stuck her with her own magic she try to escape but it grab her. The man decided to play her around for a bit just like what she did to the cookie as a form of torture, it was gruesome and hard nearly dying few many times. Until then the last part has arrived the eating part they were about to eat her until some mist appeared and soon she knew was taken. The man was furious try to get her but fail after a bit she finally clearly saw the two cookies they were yeast flavour cookies the large calm yeast was call silence yeast and the little and insane one name wild yeast. She couldn’t talk trying to communicate but couldn’t find how, wild yeast was muse but decided to call her Candy corn caramel apple cuz she look like one ( in his opinion) silent yeast felt pity and want to help her. So she decided to stick with them to find away to at least get her back to be a witch or what ever way possible before he finds her again. It be karma she had

Note: both yeast cookie are from the concept art I just gave them nicknames

[moondal514]

Ok I’m going to rant about something aftg fandom-related that’s honestly not a big deal but it bothers me

TW: eating disorders

So quick note for transparency: i don’t read fics dealing with eating disorders/diet and weight angst that much cuz it’s one of the few tropes out there that I really can’t handle all of the time. Of course, there are exceptions, especially in the aftg fandom where I’ll read nearly anything if you slap an Andreil label on it. I wanna rant about some of those exceptions I’ve read, specifically something about them that I’m very bothered by. Namely, if there is a character with an eating disorder in an aftg fic…why is it usually Neil?

Like what about Neil as a character screams give this man an eating disorder? Is it just cuz he’s the main character? Is it a bad handover from the side of the fandom that likes to feminize him? Is it a fanon!Neil thing? Like truly I’m genuinely baffled by this because canonically the man eats basically anything put in front of him. I genuinely can’t recall if there’s a single moment in canon where Neil refuses to eat something (not counting his refusal to eat sweet things cuz he’s not a fan of them), so to have this whole side of the fandom that’s randomly decided to give him issues with food…why?? Does the man not have enough neuroses already?? Is all the canonical torture he gets not good enough for you?? (obligatory disclaimer: I personally hate adding trauma to Neil when he already goes through so much in canon) Like why??? Seriously. Why???

But more than that, I genuinely don’t understand why a writer would choose to explore eating disorders through Neil when there are like…so many better options of characters to do that with. Like if I were to write an eating disorder fic, Neil would probably be at the bottom of my list for characters I would center the fic around. There are just so many other characters that would to me make more canonical sense to write about having an eating disorder.

Like Allison! Hello??? It’s literally a canonical part of her backstory! Why tf would you fuck around with Neil having an eating disorder when there’s a whole ass Allison who literally had to be put in a clinic to recover right there??? You could write about her entire backstory or, if you really wanted to be angsty, write about her relapsing. That could be dramatic

Or maybe a writer wants to explore men having eating disorders, cuz it’s true the social dynamics/pressures are different for male eating disorders compared to female eating disorders. Ok then, Kevin is right there!!! Like this man is so obsessed with exy that it seeps into his eating practices. He’s so canonically super strictly diet oriented that it really wouldn’t be that much of a stretch for it to turn into disordered eating. Maybe it’s a part of his Nest trauma or something, idk

And of course, who is the character with canonically conspicuously weird eating habits? That’s right, Andrew! That habit he has of tearing up his food into tiny bits? That’s a classic eating disorder tell. When he’s on his meds, we know his diet is fucked up by them, as demonstrated by the scenes where everyone’s eating at Abby’s and Neil notices Andrew hasn’t touched his food. Andrew is a character that is both self-destructive and has control issues, a combination that would lend itself unfortunately well to an eating disorder. Simultaneously quiet self-destruction and a way to exert control over his own body, very Andrew yeah?

Maybe a writer doesn’t wanna write about the Foxes though. Maybe a writer wants to write about the Ravens. Ok. Jean motherfucking Moreau is Right. There. The guy goes through so much fucked up shit in the Nest that isn’t really greatly detailed in canon, so why not add an eating disorder to the mix?

TL;DR: I’m bothered that all the fics in this fandom that center around eating disorders seem to always be about Neil and it makes no sense cuz there are imo much better characters in aftg that are better options for writers to explore these concepts with

Disclaimer: obviously no hate to anyone who has written or does write fics where Neil has an eating disorder. I’ve read many excellent fics with that concept. I’m just trying to understand why they are so overrepresented

[thiccowlladylife]

Eyy, the Asmodeus/Fizzarolli episode is here!

Time to review Oops!

The Good:

-Ozzie and Fizz are wholesome, horny couple goals; Moxxie and Millie have been usurped after the disaster of last episode... (and holy shit, Asmodeus is CAKED)

-Some of the background designs of the incubi, succubi, and fish demons are really cool (I think I saw what looked like a triceratops demon Lady during Blitzø and Fizz's fight, and I love her)

-Fizz and Blitzø's interactions throughout the whole episode are fantastic; Fizz is such a mood, and I stan his pettiness towards Blitzø

-I... don't mind Blitzø's apology to Fizz? It's far from perfect and still full of 'pity me' bullshit, but Brandon Rogers' voice acting was phenomenal during the scene, and the whole self-pity even in an apology does seem in character for Blitzø. But he recognizes and owns that, accident or not, he still hurt Fizz and ruined countless lives, and that Fizz has every right to not forgive him. But that Fizz does, also doesn't bother me? It feels less like total forgiveness and more like the path to forgiveness, which seems realistic (and has plenty of chances for Blitzø to fuck up along the way)

-Fizz is phenomenal disability rep. It impacts him, but like he says, he's not broken because of it

-Some of the comedic stuff in this episode actually got a laugh from me; the whole busting out of the cage sequence was hilarious to me

The Bad:

-Stolas felt completely unnecessary in this episode. His appearance is clearly just to push the 'Asmodean crystal' plot point between him and Blitzø further along, but he doesn't really do anything. He says nothing during the ransom message (even though he clearly sees Striker, the guy that nearly killed him a week ago, as working with the guy who kidnapped Fizz; also, it's only been a week since then? And he's already better? And Asmodeus says nothing about that, but still mentions the club?), he doesn't contribute anything to the negotiation that Asmodeus couldn't have done on his own, and just... Leaves at the end. Completely useless this episode

-Oh Striker... Honey, they're butchering your character so much. Once you were a legitimate threat, now you've been reduced to a "we should somewhat improve society -- yet you participate in it, strange, I am very smart!" skit... And you're portrayed as the bad guy for wanting the change

-Asmodeus... you let yourself get insulted by some random Imp from Greed (one of the supposedly lowest races in Hell)... And go along with his ransom? You're the Ruler of Lust; who gives a shit if Fizz is also an Imp? You said the word and every demon in Hell would've been up Crimson's ass to rescue the partner of a Sin; what would Crimson do? Kill him? That would only assure he'd suffer tortures unimaginable before he was killed. You held all the cards, and you still folded so easily, it's unrealistic and pathetic.

-Also, why pair up Striker and Crimson? It's two totally clashing villain styles that don't mesh well and are totally random (also, does Crimson die at the end? That would be a shitty, anticlimactic way to go, but we only see that Striker survived)

-The song was shit. And it's such a shame, because Alex Brightman is just as great an actor as Brandon Rogers, and a fantastic singer

-Asmodeus' protective possessiveness at the end was... Too much, just on the bad side of toxic. But hey, I guess even the healthiest relationships in Hell are always a little toxic

Despite the bad, I was still entertained by this episode? It felt like a season 1 quality episode, where I could enjoy the good in spite of the bad... But this is 6 episodes into the second season, and I don't think we'll be lucky to have another of decent quality.

But at least Asmodeus/Fizzarolli did not disappoint! Keeping my fingers crossed that the Mammon episode will be even half as good as this, so I can finally abandon this series on a high note. Cuz guys, I don't think I can do it anymore...

[yujipg]

NOW or NEVER! ; main cast

☆ gg enthusiasts!

“when im dead and ssera gives a new hit release you guys better pull that ouija board and keep a bitch updated”

JANG CHIAKI ; (NAME)’s best friend and hikaru’s s/o. uses any pronouns. nonbinary. one of those kpop life update accounts on twt. mostly posts about hikaru and their bestfriend, (NAME)! aside from his bf, chiaki also rlly loves pastries...

HWANG HIKARU ; chiaki’s boyfriend and (NAME)’s other best friend. uses he/him/they pronouns. incredibly dense and stupid (considering the fact he doesnt know how his best friend feels about him for like 5 years um...)

YOU ; chiaki & hikaru’s bff. they/them. undeniably in love with hikaru for over 5 years now, tried confessing once but realized hikaru got with their bestfriend which is chiaki. currently gaslighting theirselves and looking for another person to crush on... also, is online friends with sunoo who they met on fearnottwt.

☆ hoon’s babygirls!

“call us NPCs cuz we ain’t playin!”

PARK SUNGHOON ; kim sunoo’s roommate and jungwon’s main source of torture. loves to annoy people out of spite. surprisingly bitchless due to his concerning humor and unhinged personality, but he’s actually pretty funny sometimes!... sometimes.

KIM SUNOO ; (NAME)’s favorite mutual and the “love therapist / cupid” — literally just gets on twitter to post some kpop updates from time to time or to hate on sunghoon. usually, jungwon goes to him for advice.

YANG JUNGWON ; a choi beomgyu and park sunghoon hate account. actually hates social media but got forced to make an account by sunoo because he “needs to know real entertainment instead of nerding on his math book all day”

— masterlist. ☆

note: yooo it’s finally started 😭🙁. i’m gonna update the masterlist tmmr i swear y’all 😭

TAGLIST: @luvhyun3 @bibisbestgirl @dazeds-oleil @bookishcalls @chaewon-slays @faeryhee

🌟 taglist is open ! just send me an ask! ☆

© yujipg 2023. do not plagiarize my works! reblogs & feedback are always appreciated. ♡