#touches ground… smth happened here…

[toytle]

the most important thing abt being an artist is being an Enjoyer of art bc every few days i get the urge to delete my posts, but then i remember how much i hate when editors private their edits or when writers delete fics instead of orphaning them, and i come back to my senses. tortured artistry be damned, i can’t do that to my fellow art enjoyers

[muteddaydreams]

taeil fan acct I follow has a few horribly ratioed tweets and they’re priv

[dreamykira]

One Way or Another I IN-HO x reader

˗ˏˋREQUEST ´ˎ˗

╰┈➤ Hi I hope you're doing well! Can I please request In-ho x female reader where she's a player and he becomes obsessed with her during his time as Young-il? During the rebellion, when Dae-ho fails to bring the ammo, she takes on the role and arrives on time to see In-ho's moment of betrayal. And from there, he decides to just remove her from the game and keep her with himself. It would be all the better if it was angsty with a touch of manipulative In-ho. @androgynous-lady

˗ˏˋWARNINGS ´ˎ˗

╰┈➤ Betrayal, mentions of blood and killing, Dae-Ho has a panic attack. SPOILERS!!!! English is not my first language:)

˗ˏˋAUTHOR'S NOTE ´ˎ˗

╰┈➤ hello again:) im kind of in my writers era or smth cos i have no clue how i've managed to post three fics in three days. i hope i can keep the streak going for longer. ALSOOOO this came out longer than i expected and im kind of inspired to write a part two of what happens when in-ho and reader meet again soooooo..... that means that i might turn this into a multi-part series. thats ofc if you guys like it and are interested in it.

word count: 1465

Pt. 2

The tension in the dormitory was suffocating. The players sat in clusters, whispering among themselves, the weight of what was to come pressing down on them like a storm cloud. Soon, the plan would be set in motion.

But for now, there was still time.

And yet, it didn’t feel like enough.

“Are you sure you have to go?” you murmured, your fingers curling into the fabric of Young-il’s sleeve.

He paused, gun in hand, eyes flickering toward you. Then, with a quiet sigh, he reached out and cupped your face, his thumb tracing gently over your cheek. The softness of the gesture felt at odds with the world you were trapped in.

“You know I do,” he said, voice low, steady.

You swallowed. “Then let me come with you.”

A small smile ghosted over his lips, but there was something sad about it. “No,” he said simply.

Your grip tightened. “Why not?”

His hands slid down to your shoulders, his touch warm, grounding. “Because I need you here. I need to know you’re safe.”

Safe.

The word felt meaningless in this place.

You searched his eyes, hoping—praying—for something, anything, that would make this easier. But all you saw was quiet determination.

He was going. And there was nothing you could do to stop him.

Your breath hitched as a lump formed in your throat. “Promise me you’ll come back.”

He exhaled through his nose, almost like he was amused by your doubt. “I will.”

“You don’t know that.”

At that, his expression shifted—something unreadable passing through his eyes. Then, before you could react, he leaned in, pressing a quick, lingering kiss to your lips.

The world around you faded. Just for a second.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. “I will,” he murmured, “one way or another.”

Something about the way he said it sent a shiver down your spine. But before you could dwell on it, he was already stepping away. Already slipping through the door.

And you were left standing there, his words echoing in your mind.

One way or another.

✧˚ · .

Gunfire echoed through the maze-like corridors of the facility as the armed players made their move, pushing forward with relentless desperation. It was chaos.

Hyun-Ju ducked behind cover as bullets whizzed past, her pulse roaring in her ears. “We’re running low on ammo!” she shouted.

“We need more!” someone yelled back. “We can’t hold out like this!”

Dae-ho clenched his jaw, gripping his rifle. “I’ll go get some,” he said.

As he ran through the corridors, the gunfire fading behind him, something dark and suffocating wrapped around his chest.

Memories clawed their way to the surface.

Blood. Screaming. The bodies of people he had once called comrades.

His breath hitched.

✧˚ · .

You had been pacing, anxiety gnawing at your stomach, when Dae-ho stumbled inside.

Something was wrong.

Dae-ho stumbled back into the dormitory, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. His hands were shaking, but he forced himself to move.

He scanned the room—most of the players were huddled together, whispering anxiously, too afraid to do anything. The bodies of the dead guards still lay where they had fallen, untouched.

Swallowing hard, he forced himself forward.

His hands trembled as he knelt beside one of the guards, searching through his pockets. He grabbed everything he could find, moving quickly to the next body.

The smell of blood made his stomach churn.

He tried to ignore it. Tried to pretend he wasn’t kneeling among corpses, rummaging through their uniforms like a scavenger.

By the time he was done, he had stuffed as much ammo as he could into a spare jacket he’d found. His fingers tightened around the fabric.

He needed to go back.

He needed to bring this to the others.

But the moment he turned toward the door, something inside him snapped.

A memory. A flash of gunfire. Screams.

His breath hitched.

He couldn’t go back out there.

His grip on the jacket loosened as his feet carried him backward, away from the door, away from the fight.

By the time he reached his bed, he collapsed onto it, curling around the stolen ammo like a child clutching a security blanket. His body shook. His mind screamed.

That was how you found him.

Your heart clenched at the sight.

Slowly, carefully, you approached.

“Dae-ho?” you whispered.

He didn’t look up.

You crouched beside him, your voice softer now. “What happened?”

His breaths were uneven. “I—I can’t,” he rasped. “I can’t go back out there.”

Your chest ached.

You placed a gentle hand on his arm. “It’s okay,” you murmured. “You don’t have to.”

His eyes flickered toward you, glassy with fear.

You gave his arm a reassuring squeeze before shifting your attention to the jacket in his grasp.

“You did good,” you said. “You got the ammo.”

He swallowed hard, nodding weakly.

You hesitated. Then, carefully, you took the jacket from him. He didn’t resist.

“I’ll take it from here.”

And before he could stop you, you turned and ran.

✧˚ · . 

The colourful walls blurred around you as you moved as fast as you could, the weight of the ammo pressing down on you.

You found Player 120, Hyun-Ju, first. She was crouched behind cover, struggling to reload.

“Here!” you gasped, shoving the ammo toward her.

Her eyes widened in relief. “Thank you—”

But you were already moving.

You had to find Young-il.

✧˚ · .

Your pulse pounded in your ears as you turned the last corner. Then, you saw him.

Young-il stood just ahead, his back turned to you, shoulders rising and falling with heavy breaths. At his feet lay the bodies of two players—the same ones who had left with him.

Your heart lurched.

They were dead.

Your gaze snapped back to Young-il. He was gripping a gun.

“Young-il?” Your voice was shaky as you took a hesitant step forward.

He turned at the sound of your voice. His expression hardened for a fraction of a second, as if he was displeased to see you. Then, just as quickly, his face softened.

“Why are you here?” His voice was sharp, but beneath it, there was something else.

Relief.

Anger.

Panic.

You swallowed thickly. “We were running out of ammo… Dae-ho—he couldn’t do it. I took over.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. “You shouldn’t have come.”

You frowned. Something about his tone unsettled you. You glanced down at the bodies again, dread curling in your stomach. “What happened to them?”

“They didn’t make it,” he said simply.

You looked up at him again, and for the first time, you truly took him in.

There was something off about him.

The way he stood—too still.

The way he held the gun—too natural.

The way he looked at you—too calculating.

Then, his walkie-talkie crackled to life.

“Young-il?” It was Gi-hun’s voice. “What’s going on? I heard gunshots.”

Young-il lifted the device to his lips, his eyes still locked onto yours.

“It’s over,” he said. His voice was steady, but his grip on the gun tightened. “We’ve been caught.”

Your breath hitched.

Lies.

Your hands curled into fists.

Before you could speak, he changed the channel on the walkie-talkie.

“Start wrapping this up.” His voice was different now. Colder.

The words sent ice through your veins.

Your stomach twisted, dread creeping up your spine as the realisation began to sink in.

This wasn’t Young-il.

Not really.

Not the man you had trusted. Not the man you had cared for. Not the man who you fell in love with.

Your throat felt tight. “Who… who are you?”

There was a long pause. 

Then, something in him shifted. The careful mask of concern fell away, revealing something darker beneath.

Something possessive.

Something unyielding.

He took a step toward you, his eyes never leaving yours. “I told you I would come back to you,” he murmured.

Your breath came in shallow gasps.

Footsteps echoed down the hall. Guards.

You took a step back, shaking your head.

“No,” you whispered.

Young-il—it was clear that it wasn’t his real name—reached out, gently brushing his fingers against your cheek. It should have been comforting. It wasn’t.

“You have nothing to be afraid of,” he said softly. “I’m keeping you safe.”

You flinched. “This isn’t—this isn’t right.”

His gaze darkened, but he didn’t move away. “You’ll understand soon enough.”

The guards arrived.

In-ho didn’t even have to give the order out loud. One of them grabbed your arm, and panic surged through you.

“No—wait—” You struggled, and for some odd reason hoped that Young-il would save you.

You turned to him, searching for something—some trace of the man you had thought he was.

He only tilted his head.

“Take her upstairs,” he said.

And as the guards pulled you away, your heart shattered.

to the lovely reader who sent me the request: i hope this met you expectations 💗

[seancekitsch]

Hello! Here’s the fic idea I commented earlier, sorry if I sent it the wrong place the first time 😅.

This is my first time asking but what if you did a fic where Lucifer gets startled by the reader (if you do that sorta thing) while he’s working on a duck or smth and his wings pop out and the reader (again, idk if you do that, maybe another character?) teasingly touches his wings and he gets really flustered because ✨sensitive wing trope✨ and whatever happens after that is purely up to interpretation and yeahhhh, that’s my fic idea! :3

hey dont worry! i know im prone to losing track of things i just wanted to make sure i didnt lose it :)

Curiosity has been killing you all day. It started with the chipper mood Lucifer had walked into his work shop with, and only increased when you started to hear the noise of tinkering tools. He’d cheerfully told you not to let anyone disturb him today, which, was a welcome change from the gloomy way he used to drag himself to this same workshop. With the way you’d have to drag him out to eat, the way you’d have to pretend you couldn’t hear him mumbling to himself through the door. It was easier for Lucifer if you pretended that you didn’t know about what he was going through, so you did just that, and he rewarded you with his loyalty and generosity, and dare you say it: his companionship.  Being his assistant for the past few years, you’d seen a change in him the more time he spent with his daughter. It was nice. This is the happiest you’ve seen him in a long time, and the curiosity is killing you. 

The sounds of a drill, the sounds of hammering, the sounds of clinking metal drift out from the door to where you’re sat, a plush lounger where you get to turn away any uninvited guests (thought there never are any). This isn’t the typical soundscape you hear when Lucifer has a new duck idea. You stop scrolling Sinstagram, throwing your phone onto the cushion as the nagging thought to check on him finally consumes you. 

You push open the door carefully, the sounds of tinkering growing louder. 

“Hello?” you ask, “Luce?”

No answer. Then you spot him, his coat haphazardly thrown to the side, working on the table near the window hunched over and in full focus.

“Hey?” you call again, your voice just loud enough to carry across the workshop space. 

Lucifer jerks up from the desk he’s hunched over, clearly having not heard your knocking before entering. He knocks his hip into the edge of it, jostling all of his tools, clanking together. Your calling out to him seems to start a chain reaction, one that ends with a carving tool hitting the ground and three sets of wings suddenly sprouting from already designated holes from your boss’ burgundy velvet waistcoat. 

Holy shit. You haven’t seen him like this since… well, extermination day. And sure, other demons have wings, but his are magnificent, in a way that even made you give pause to admire them amongst the bloodshed of that day. You shoulder slump, awestruck at the demon in front of you. Your feet seem to move of their own accord, crossing the space between you and your boss. 

“Oh! I’m sorry,” Lucifer’s shoulders sag, relaxing as he realizes its just you, “I didn’t hear you come in.”

You shake your head, a smile spreading across your lips. 

“I should have been louder,” you offer, and step closer, admiring his wings still not retracted. Lucifer relaxes too, smiling at the welcome intrusion. 

“So what brings you into workshop today, huh?” He asks, and then falters, “Not that uh— not that I’m not happy you’re in here it’s just uh— you know, you don’t usually…”

“I got curious,” you answer, cutting off any rambling he’s going to do. Lucifer has been rambling a lot more often lately. So unsure of himself, it’s sweet. 

You reach out, fingertips brushing against the tips of crimson red feathers.

“Haven’t seen these in a while,” you muse, rubbing your thumb across the top of one wing. They’re softer than you expected them to be, rich luxe down that you’d expect of the worlds most expensive pillow. Your eyes follow them to where they lead back into his waistcoat, connecting to his back. What would his bare back look like? 

A groan interrupts your thoughts, and glancing to Lucifer’s face, his teeth are bared. Oh shit. What a fucking mistake. 

“I’m sorry, Sir! I hope I didn’t hurt you I didn’t-” you yank your hand back as if its been burned, fear spreading like ice in your veins that you’d irreconcilably fucked this up and maybe now you’re out of a job and you’d never be able to see him again, stuck finding work with the Vees or even worse. 

Lucifer inhales sharply, and then sighs. 

“No, no please don’t be sorry,” he reaches out for you, as if he’s scared too. His gloved hands cradle your hand, the one that dared to touch his wing. 

“You didn’t hurt me,” he assures you, a sheepish smile spreading across his features, just alabaster cheeks growing red as he keeps talking, “My wings are, well, they’re… sensitive?”

His voice rises as if he’s questioning himself in his own explanation. It takes you a moment, searching the King of Hell’s face for an answer before it hits you, almost taking the wind out of your chest. Oh, you realize. That was not a groan of pain. Fuck, this is awkward. 

“Oh I’m,” you pause, are you sorry? “I’m sorry.”

Lucifer searches your face, his mouth falling into a frown. 

“No! Please, don’t be. Stop apologizing,” Luficer’s hands start pulling yours, beckoning you closer to him again. You comply, stepping back into his personal space. Lucifer places your hand back onto his wing, smiling again. 

“I liked it,” he tells you, smile starting to melt into a smirk. Your hand travels along the top of the wing, smoothing out any feathers out of their spot. Lucifer shudders as your hand moves, a sigh leaving his lips. 

Emboldened, you keep going, running your nails along them, down between feathers. 

Lucifer reacts… exquisitely. His hands shoot out to grip your hips, fingers digging into you. He starts panting, the blush growing across his skin. 

“Been a while since you’ve been touched like this, huh, Sir?” you ask, pushing your luck. Lucifer nods as he lets his forehead fall against your shoulder. He moans into the side of your neck as he wraps himself further around you. 

“What were you making?” you ask him, finally remembering what you even came in here for. Though, this seems better than the original reason; With you quickly feeling yourself go weak at the sound of the noices falling from Lucifer’s lips and the feeling of his hot breath fanning out along your neck. 

“Fuck,” he pants, “Gift for you.”

His hands start wandering, moving from your hips to your waist and back down, just short of coming around to cup your ass. You would let him if he did. 

“For little old me?” you tease him, though internally, you could scream. It touches deep inside of you that he’d think of you like that enough to make you something. 

“Mmm, of course,” he hums, nuzzling his face closer into your neck. His arms wrap around you, pulling you flush against him as your nails rake through his wing, the two of you pressed together in desperate intimacy. 

Your breath hitches when his knee knocks between your own. 

“Th- thank you, Sir,” you whisper, your voice airy and far away. 

Lucifer chuckles against your skin, his grasp on you tightening. 

“Don’t thank me just yet,” he says, “I’ve got another gift for you if you want it.”

You don’t need to be a genius to read between the lines of what he means. Hell, now you see it. What a charmer. 

“Oh yeah?” you challenge him, your free hand coming up to touch the buttons of his waistcoat. Lucifer pulls back, his pupils blown wide as he looks at you like a prize to be won.

"Get on the table and I'll show you," he says.

And then it's like you can't move fast enough.

[101maverick]

hey i saw your requests are open and i was wondering if maybe you could write smth hurt/comfort with jason please? like they had a big fight and then they make up after something happens🙌🏻

A/n: okok srry if it took me a few days but school and other projects are kicking my butt, hope you enjoy!! I decided to use your request to study Jason from a more ak! Point of view if that makes sense? I haven’t consumed the media but i’ve read some really beautiful works with him and hope it makes him justice :)

Word count: 1206 words

Execution At Sundown

Jason was at your place, sitting on the side of the couch with your tv remote by his side, cup of soda in his hand.

He still hadn’t shown you his face even after months of dating, and even though it stung you understood that it was a huge show of trust on his part, so if he was content sipping his soda from a straw that went under his mask you wouldn’t say anything about it and keep your feelings to yourself.

Everything had been going fine, you had just been hanging out while watching a movie.

It all hit the fan when you decided to go get another soda, rising up from the couch and padding down the hallway to the kitchen to fetch the drink.

After retrieving your drink you made your way back, and as the couch came into view you saw that Jason was now engrossed with something on his phone.

You didn’t think too much about it, just eyed the now empty soda resting in his left hand. On a whim, you walked up to his side of the couch and leaned over, going to grab his empty cup to replenish it.

Before you could do much more than make contact with the clothed skin of Jason’s shoulder though you found yourself being slammed back, loosing your balance and falling on your behind.

——————————

Jason reacted out of instinct.

One second he was relatively relaxed on his girlfriend’s couch, looking at a map of his territory for anything suspicious that might be going on, and the next there was a pressure on his shoulder, somebody leaning in and- “Why don’t you scream a bit for me, Todd?” and then there was pain-

He grabbed the body pressing in on him and pushed, slamming his attacker back and watching, half-standing and with his torso turned in a way that pulled at the knotted skin marring every inch of him, and even if the assailant was on the ground they still hurt him, that damned clown still dug his claws in and he always screamed but nobody heard him and-

Oh. It’s you.

It’s you, who had wormed his way into his heart in a matter of months.

It’s you, who had caressed the mangled skin of his hands and said “That’s okay” in response to the proof of him having been broken and put together crooked and wrong. As if it really was.

It’s you, legs sprawled on the floor with a bewildered expression on your face, wide eyes staring up at him in shock.

Jason stares back at you, his own features turned to stone under the mask as he feels his throat close up.

He had hurt you. He had thrown you to the ground. Guess the apple never falls far from the tree then, uh? Guess he was just like Willis after all, smacking around anyone without the ability to control his feelings. A rabid animal.

An animal. A pet. That’s what the Joker used to call him. What the Joker still calls him every day, in his wretched mind. A mindless thing, twisted and contorted to be ready to bend at his master’s will, and the fact he didn’t have one here anymore didn’t mean he was suddenly upgraded to ‘human’, did it? He was still incapable of controlling himself, succumbing to the rage just like Willis had to the bottle. Not even capable of recognising his girlfriend the only person who had accepted his crooked form and chipped edges, throwing her around simply because even gentle and casual touches were ruined for him by that forsaken clown-

“Jace?”

The world comes back into focus, his eyes zero in on the spot of the wall he had been staring at in his haze and then shift down to you, now seated more comfortably on the ground. You haven’t moved, you haven’t come closer to him.

You’re scared of him.

Jason feels his throat constrict, and he punches the words out around the lump forming in his throat. “I- I didn’t- you were- sorry- I-”

Gosh he’s such a mess, can’t even explain to you how pathetic he is, how he still lets a fucking clown torture him with his mere shadow, and now you will realise the honeyed touches are not made for him, not anymore, maybe they never were, or else someone would’ve come-

Now you will realise that all those jagged edges are places you could cut yourself on. Now you will realise a rabid dog like him just needs to be put down for good.

He stutters out a last sentence for you, spits it out on your clean parquet, and even that feels too much like dirtying your sanctuary for his liking. “I- sorry, I’ll- I’ll go-” and he’s not even finishing his sentence before he’s stalking towards your apartment’s door, steps as sure as he can make them as he walks away from the only hands who had held him oh so gently, only like Catherine ever had, his mom, and he wills his legs to keep moving or else he won’t make it out of here for good-

“Don’t leave, please.”

Your voice is quiet, quiet as it breaks his heart and his resolve.

Because Jason has never been strong, and the little crack he can hear coming from his heart hurts but so does the knowledge he’s too weak to keep going the last few steps to your door, the few steps that’ll lead him back to how it was before and you back to a life of safety, free of the burden that is Jason Todd.

He turns around. You’re leaning in the doorway to the living room, staring at him on the other side of the hallway.

Your stance is relaxed. You aren’t holding yourself like you’re hurt. Your eyes are wide, and sad, but they’re not wary.

With his attention on you, you speak again. Your voice is soft, and now also kinda trembly. “I know I don’t know even the start of the story, but I know you have one and it’s the reason things like this sometimes happen.” Your eyes stare into the white lenses of the mask, desperately searching for his gaze under it. “I’m not gonna say it’s okay, because it isn’t.”

There it is. The proof he fucked it up, like is his design.

“It’s not okay,” you continue, startling him. He was getting lost again. He waits for the axe. “because something or someone hurt you, and you still suffer from it.”

He looks at you. Jason looks in your eyes, and gets the feeling you know he’s returning your gaze.

“I want to help you, Jace. Any way I can. Any way you let me. Because I know that when things aren’t okay, sometimes all you need is someone there with you to help you make it so.”

Your voice was sure through it all, but now it falters a bit. “So, so if you want, I could be by your side. If that’s how you’ll let me help. So, so don’t leave.”

His eyes don’t wander away from you.

And as he gazes into your eyes, glinting with the light from the tv bathing your side in neons, he knows that he never could.

The axe doesn’t fall.

[moonrisecoeur]

Ur the best sub Leon writer soooo… idk if you seen these but ppl treat las plagas parasite as sex pollen 😭 and I’m so here for it. Concept : re4 leon infected by the parasite OK but he starts out very agressive but ofc he’s a sub so he does whatever reader wants in order to yk… achieve the goal of the parasite (breeding 😔 who said that? Not me) And pls make the reader mean, I love mean femdoms sm, they are chefs kiss. If you need more clarification post it I’ll send another one idk but I’m just seeing what YOU come up with. LOVE UR WRITING btw I love how it’s pretty in character tbh cuz I read ur bully Leon one and I was like “yeah fr like he’s too caring to be a bully 💀”

OMG WAIT MY DUMBASS FORGOT TO ADD: you said smth so mean to him that he came too early. He was so sorry for coming early and the mess he made in you But then he continued to keep going trying to pump more- OK SORRY

the BEST?? idk about that but i shall take ur compliment and deliver to you only my best work so thank u bestie i appreciate it sm !! ^-^

las plagas is crazy cuz like the black veins, the loss of control with your physical body, the pain it causes… that’s literally so hot. leon was so fuckable all of re4 but especially in the scenes where his body is being controlled that man is SCRUMPTIOUS

also just so you know. the veins on his dick are black as well ♡

no pronouns mentioned, afab parts mentioned, plaga leon has to be a top im sorry (technically in straight relationships men are always topping unless u count pegging BUT in this context i mean he’s a top more like ‘he’s a sub but he’ll fuck u stupid’ like that’s the vibe)

you spot his blonde hair from across the hall, running over to him excitedly. thank god you found him.

“leon!” you call out, grabbing the attention of the man in question, as you catch up to him. finally finding him in this nightmarish place after getting separated was the best thing possible, “holy crap, i’m so- i’m so glad you’re okay— woah, what… what happened to you?”

he takes a cautious step back, still seemingly holding a little bit of control over his body, “they said it was a gift in my…. my blood… don’t know what the fuck that was about..”

you take a step forward, reaching out your hand to touch his face, fingers tracing the black lines that were once veins invisible to the naked eye. but he stops you, his hand roughly grabbing your wrist, “don’t.”

“don’t… what?” you ask nervously, shoulders slumped.

“you need to… stay away from me,” he groans from pain, and you’re too worried to listen to his words, “stop, get away from me, you— i could hurt you! i don’t want to hurt you…”

but you don’t listen to him, betraying his wishes by shaking off his grip and reaching your hand out again. he can’t try to stop you this time. he moans, actually moans, when your fingertips touch his face, caressing him softly.

“really? it’s that good?” you ask with a small smirk on your face. leon thinks he could die.

“f-fuck…” he mumbles, finally coming closer to you. his hands wrap around your waist as he leans in for a kiss that you’re not ready for, and you both stumble backwards while you try to ground yourself.

he’s getting rough, aggressive, and you need to push back a little or else he’ll consume you entirely. not that you’d mind.

“leon, ease up,” you whisper, pushing him back slightly, and when a growl escapes his throat, you know he’s clearly not in any state to listen, “leon.”

he annoyedly makes eye contact with you, trying his best to listen to what you’re about to say. he is trying, and that’s the worst part. this is him at his most gentle, most restrained.

“you need to listen to me, okay? can you do that?” you ask softly, hand against his chest to keep him from diving too deep into you, and pressing a kiss to his lips. it’s softer. he moans into your mouth needily, but you don’t let him get rough. instead you sweetly get the taste of him. sure, it’s not a delicious taste, but he’s a delicious experience.

you enjoy the way he’s trying so intensely to control and contain himself, for your sake. he knows what you want from him is not his full fledged desires out in the open, completely unchecked.

when you pull away, he looks wrecked already, “please, you can’t do this to me, not if you’re just going to walk away and leave me desperate.”

part of you wants to reassure him. i’m not going to leave you. i would never abandon you when you need me most. but the other part just wants to ravage him, take all of him for yourself, leave nothing of him left but the perfection you’ve created. perfection in your eyes. maybe he’s not the only one infected with some kind of tainted desire.

instead, to accomplish both, you kiss him again, letting your own intensity and desire take over, potentially overpowering his. he whimpers, his shaky hands holding your hips for stability. he’s not being grossly possessive and rough like before. he’s softer now, pliable.

when you pull away, you whisper, “we need to get somewhere safe.”

“wha… what?”

“i need to take my time with you, and we’re not safe out in the open like this…” you say, leaning in to press a kiss to that sweet spot right below his ear. it’s so cute how truly weak leon is right now. sure, that’s always been his weakness, but it’s elevated multiple times over by this parasite in his blood. you have half the mind to thank that weird cult.

when you find a safe room, you’re immediately back on him, pushing him against the wall, enjoying the way he whimpers as you kiss him, his need for you multiplying by the minute.

“please, please, i need you, i need you so fucking bad, please, i need to take you, need to make you mine, need to—”

“shut up,” you groan, fingers roughly grabbing his jaw, pushing his head back and away from you, “you’re going to be good, or you won’t get what you want. i don’t care how badly you fucking need me, you’re going to be patient. you’re going to be nice and obedient or you’ll get nothing from me. and that little parasite inside of you is horrified at the idea that you won’t get to fuck my pretty pussy, hm?”

he looks pathetic, moaning like a whore at just some words, but it’s the way you say them, the way you say them, that kills him. he eventually calms himself down enough to nod with his eyes shut tightly, “i’ll do whatever you say. you know that.”

“lay down on the floor,” you command, almost growling back at him, and he opens his eyes in surprise.

“what?”

“you heard me. on the ground, beneath me, right now, leon,” your eyes narrow at him, enjoying the way he weakly sinks to his knees before sitting down completely and laying back.

“like this..?” he asks, confused. he doesn’t know what’s about to happen, and that excites him immensely.

you take off your belt with all your utility tools and your jeans along with it. then finally, your underwear. he looks up at you with wide, delicious eyes.

he asks so sweetly, even though he knows the answer, “are you… are you gonna make me..?”

“yeah, you are. i’m going to sit down on your pretty, pretty face and you’re going to enjoy every second of being beneath me, where you belong, servicing me, and making me cum.”

his heart skips a beat at the thought of belonging beneath you, “yeah, fuck, okay—”

“—and you’re not going to fucking talk until i cum, got it?”

he nods, and once you sit down upon your throne, he gets right to work. he laps up the fluids of your cunt like a dog, working tirelessly, sucking on your clit and tongue fucking you. this is his place. he deserves nothing more than to be here with you, caving to your every desire even if all of his thoughts include breeding you and getting you pregnant with his babies. he’d do anything you asked if he could just have that.

he’d be at your service, at your mercy, until you chose to give him what he wanted.

but he makes you cum so fucking hard that it’s impossible to not give him what he wants, especially when rough hands grab onto your thighs as you’re cumming and he’s still giving you the head of your life through your orgasm. he grabs you just to stabilize you, but also to be possessive.

he can’t help how bad he’s gotten about jealousy and possessiveness with this parasite. he’s never been the jealous boyfriend, knowing you could hold your own and you’re loyal and stuff, but something about the way he looks at you now is different. it’s deep and primal. he looks at you like he needs to have you, and no one else can.

it’s insanely hot, but it’s also inconceivable how uncontrollable those urges are. leon has good self control, and you notice it in how he’s acting. again, this is him at his most restrained. he’s trying to keep himself from pouncing on you, taking everything he wants from you because he knows you don’t want that.

somewhere deep inside of him, he’s still himself, still that awkward and dorky guy that just wants to love you and give you everything you want. you wouldn’t want that.

when you roll off of him, laying down next to him to give yourself a moment to recover, you press a kiss to his shoulder, a sign that it’s an act, your harshness isn’t real. he returns the gesture by kissing the top of your head. a sign that he acknowledges your motives.

“please,” he whimpers suddenly, startling you out of your daze as his hand caresses your back softly, “i’ll let you control everything, you can do whatever you want with me, but fucking please, i’m so desperate to put my cock inside of your pussy, baby. i can’t think straight, and i’m trying so damn hard to control myself but i won’t be able to much longer…”

“yeah? you wanna put your cock inside of me? feel it throb inside the wetness and warmth of my cunt, fill me up with—”

he cuts you off with a loud moan, his hands grasping onto you and his eyes shutting tightly at the thought of such pleasure. he looks wrecked at the mere mention of cumming inside of you. you obviously have to capitalize on this fact.

“oh? so it’s the filling me up part, isn’t it? the ‘gift’ you have makes you really want to cum inside me, hm?” you say, smirking cruelly at him, watching his resolve crumble as he moans shamelessly, “do you want… breed me, leon?”

he gasps, breathing heavily. he’s incredibly wound up, and now you know the real reason he’s insatiable and uncontrollable, “f-fuck, i— it’s not that i want to, it’s that i need to… i need to fuck you and breed you so damn bad, i—”

you cover his mouth with the palm of your hand, enjoying the way he groan in pleasure when you straddle him. god, he’s not even inside of you, but he looks fucked out. he looks he’s about to burst already.

“god, you’re so fucking desperate,” you mumble to him, leaning in closer to whisper to him despite having him muzzled with your hand. not that he’d ever hurt you, he would never even imagine it, “you’re going to fuck me stupid, okay? you’re going to fuck me until my legs go numb and i can’t feel anything but you… and only when i tell you you can, you’ll breed me, fuck your cum even deeper into me and not let any of it escape. understood?”

he breathes shakily, not responding. obviously you forgot you have your hand over his mouth. when you take it off, he nervously says, “got it. i’ll… i’ll be good. i’ll make you feel so good.”

your voice is dark, cruel, full of malicious intent, “you fucking better, or i won’t let you cum. you’ll get to fuck me, sure, but i won’t ever give you the satisfying orgasm your body is desperately aching for. you won’t get to fill me up, and all you’ll have left to fuck for your little orgasm is your hand.”

his heart aches. the idea of disappointing you makes him feel a physical pit of nervousness in his stomach, the same ones he felt when he was more like himself. he just wants to feel like himself again.

“g-got it,” he whimpers. you get off of him, and he’s got you pinned immediately, gently resting you against the ground he was previously laying on. the image of you beneath him has him breathless. he feels like he’s worshipping a god with every move he makes.

he slides his cock into you, groaning at how easy it is, how wet you are. he bottoms out almost immediately, enjoying the way your body wraps around him in almost every sense. he silently adores you. he loves that you want him, crave him just like he craves you. that underneath all of your dominance, you’re his lover too.

fuck, he’s starting to feel possessive again. he beings to thrust into you, his body moving faster than either of you can handle, but you keep your cool better than he does.

“don’t let yourself start to think you’re in control,” you murmur, leaning up to press your lips to his shoulder, baring your teeth but not hard enough to draw blood. just enough to remind him of his place, “you belong to me. not the other way around, got it?” you growl into his ear.

he can’t even respond, too enraptured by your body and the feeling of your control over him leaving him a shuddering mess.

and you can’t even deny it. he’s putting in the work, thumb playing your with your clit just like how he knows you like, and clearly he’s getting the results he’s looking for. his body comes closer to the edge sooner than he’d like, but he tries to stave it off, for your sake.

still leaning into him, you whisper in your darkest voice, “maybe i should leave you like this, so you can stay this desperate… for me. i would try and cure you, but… not sure if i really care anymore.”

he shudders, voice giving out on him as he tries to plead with you. he cums without warning, obviously his body did it without the consent and go-ahead of his conscious mind. he already looks embarrassed at cumming without your permission. you don’t really have the mind to care right now, but you remember it for.. later.

“i’m gonna cum, fuck, leon, give it to me, give in to your cravings, your desires, your needs,” you moan in his ear, desperate for him, only him, and he’s yours, he’s all yours, it’s all he’s ever been and all he’ll ever be. he keep fucking you even after cumming, keeping you filled up, pushing it deeper, “make me yours.”

and he has no choice but to comply.

[frillydolle]

Hiii!! Do ye think you could do smth where arthur reacts to us getting hurt? it can be us in a gang or wutever :3c lv ur stuff!!

tags ͡˚̣̣̣𓎟𓎟　 ur so bad at stealing　 karen defends you　 arthur is disappointed　 a.m ౨ৎ ⋆ ｡ ˚

you were with mary-beth, tilly and karen out in rhodes. the three of you decided to scout about and see if any of you could find anything or— most likely, rob folks of their goods for the good of thr gang. the camp was in a small struggling tim ever since the... interesting situation back in valentine. yes it was the three girl out in town, what could go wrong? a lot, apparently.

you and the girls were grouping up together, done your activities of whatever. you were a little behind, never really robbed people blind before since you often would rather stick in camp grounds since you knew what you were doing. yes, you were good at shooting, chores amd defending yourself but thieving? never been good at that..

“didya just rob me, miss?!” “n-no, i—”

“she didn't do nothin' wrong! shes been with us the whole time.” karen interrupted as mary-beth and tilly waited for the two of you to continue walking. soon, your neves Bevin to heighten as you could easily tell that the man didn't believe any of it. “nah, i saw her! she took my goddamn money!” before you could even defend yourself, the man took out a knife and he slashed your face!

your eyes fluttered quickly, adjusting to just seeing a sharp, clean knife come close to your face. your hand reaches to touch your cheek, feeling the red coating your fingers like an embrace which made your breath hitch just slightly. this hasn't ever happened before. you've never gotten hurt since you've never left camp without arthur. anyway, you're too focused on your injury to pay attention to karen causing a small scene with the man that hurt you.

before the situation escalated even worse, the three of you were able to escape with mary-beth's sweet talking a carriage who was kind enough to drop the three of you just close enough to camp. maybe suspicious to the man in charge but hey paid no mind.

so now, here you are. you're sitting on ur cot while mary-beth is cleaning the gnash on your face, even though you were really just preparing yourself for the slight lecture from arthur. only because you never left camp without him and hed often insist, he'd hate for something to happen to uou if he couldn't help — it wasn't your fault! you thought you did well even if you did receive a cut as a form of punishment, moments like these often have you question if the universe really did try to punish you, trying to change your outlaw ways. it never worked.

“there she is... my silly girl.” arthur says, his tone laced with kindness and a sort of condescending tone, too. hes making his way over to you, and you immediately looked away as you couldn't look at him, knowing the lecture you're about to receive. “what have i told ya 'bout leavin' without me?” and you looked away with a pout, not wanting to have thus conversation since you knew you were silly for it.

“darlin'...” he warned just slightly, he wasn't mad, he was disappointed and he wanted to know your reasoning for leaving without him for such an easy move. “not to without ya, but—” “'nd look what happened t'ya.” and u may have rolled your eyes, not at him but more at yourself for the stupid act. he just wanted to make sure nothing so horrible happened to you.

he'd hate himself if he thought he lost you. especially after what happened with him and mary, even him and eliza. “didn't mean to! thought i'd be easy.. since i wasn't alone. you ain't mad at me, right?” you say as your looking uo at him, totally not pouting at him. you didn't mean to get the cut on your face, you've just never been good at robbing people blind. “'course i ain't sweetheart. jus' had me worried when tilly told me what happened.” he says before hiding big hands cups your cheek, carefully not adding weight to the wound on ur face.

“'m comin' with ya everytime yer gonna do somethin' like that, ye hear?”

“'course, love.”

[pumpkinstrawbrew]

​🇮​’​🇲​ ​🇮​​🇳​ ​🇾​​🇴​​🇺​​🇷​ ​🇦​​🇷​​🇲​​🇸​, ​🇮​’​🇲​ ​🇮​​🇳​ ​🇾​​🇴​​🇺​​🇷​ ​🇨​​🇦​​🇷​​🇪​

...

(you can care for or about smth, an’ i suppose, while i tend to see bruce being softer in that regard than crane could ever be, he also might be quite meanie too. at least, when jon isn’t affected by fear toxin to the point, where he can barely function. so that’s when things can get a bit experimental! bruce historically likes asserting his ‘dominance��� over jonathan. an’ he also likes to daunt him. 

i did a few pieces of the bat babysitting spooked jon in the past, but i was thinking about times, when crane isn’t fight-y nor under the influence of ft, but he’d still be shaking / paranoid, bc it’s his natural instinct at that point to expect to be hit or smacked, even when he’s ‘behaving’. an’ it’s always a fright to not know what the bat is thinking. but then again, in some scenarios, he kinda almost wants to be roughed up. it’s the only constant contact he has with batman. an’ he savors *an’ fetishes* what he can. it might be a little smth, but it’s smth still. so he’d be waiting for it with a certain level of anticipation. when he was younger, just looking like an easy target was enough to get ‘that’ kind of attention. surely, it might work here too. if he looks pathetic enough. but i think, bruce can instantly tell when jonathan is actually scared, an’ when he’s scared, but also seemingly thrilled bc of it. an’ when it’s the second one, that’s a perfect opportunity to tease him. or as jon would call it, bully him. yet, this is the kind of bullying, he can get off on it. being teased by a handsome bat jock, who also doesn’t actually hurt him. or calls him any hurtful names. it’s almost a roleplay. safer grounds, with the only person, jon semi trusts. at least, when it comes to specific things. batman also the only person, who can actually tease jonathan about being scared, as no one else has the same amount *sort* of power over him. i imagine, that jonathan whimpers in the first art, while bruce softly tells him what a lil shaking coward he is, an’ it’s borderline a dirty talk, without any actual vulgarity in the mix. a fear play of sorts. 

*this set up is most likely to take place somewhere in the comicverse vs anywhere else, as comicverse jon is kinda ... well, he's a lil perv, who just gags for things, when it comes to batman. akrhamverse an' BTAS ones are a tad too proud to be openly asking for things. it would take way much coaxing with them.*

now, in comparison, johnny-boy is the real lean an’ mean. he’s less ‘nice’ about those moments of weakness. at least, usually. with time, he might find himself enjoying the privilege of being the one who is somewhat comforting for bruce’s psyche. so it's not only about getting inside his head, it's also about celebrating of already having a place there. even if not the one, he might have expected to. that's not smth that happens all the time, but it's smth that occurs regardless. be it by accident or bc his whole form is lanky an’ fairly easy to hold. but whatever it is, possess the bat’s fear in whatever form is always precious to jon. also bruce’s hair are kinda soft to touch, he would like this too, when he learns who is under the mask. it also a boost to his ego as well. just thinkin' that someone like batman might confinde in someone like him.

*the second art is also based more so on BTAS set up vs comicverse like the first one. i imagine, BTAS crane to be kinda more crass than comicverse one. an' he also plays dirty an' his possessive stick toward bruce is a tad more invasive so to speak. not to mention, that he's the only crane who low-key views batman as a brat of some sort. having an emotional leverage over him is his wet dream, basically. which is funny, bc it's mutual thing, even if crane refuses to accept it. but when he is quite in a pickle, he'd always cling to bruce as well.*)

[elsa-fogen]

At first i was going to reblog this from @justashadowlooker

but then it got too long and off-topic, i started retelling and quoting my own 10 years old fanfic, so i'm making it it's own post jjdsfjkdfgh

Too long don't read, was a Bloom fan, killed her hundreds of times, than became Icy fan, killed her few times as well, still a huge fan, wanna revive some of my old ideas

When i had just started watching winx, Bloom was my fav AAHAHHAH (it was 2008-2009 year i think). Buuut... being my fav means that you gonna SUFFER. It was always the case, even when i was little. But young me didn't know better than to just kill of a character. And Bloom died SO many times in my early fanfics and arts. I still remember one fic, it was also the first ever fic i posted on the internet, and it was horrible. I typed really slow at that time and i was looking at like 10 A4 pages of handwritten fanfic and was like... weeeell i don't need this part with description of the boat... i don't need this part about wind flowing in her hair or smth... i don't need spaces after dots and commas either. These were real thoughts of 9 year old me lmao.

the fic was about Bloom and Sky going for a boat trip date, but there was also some bitch that fell for Sky and her best decision was to throw Bloom away from the boat. As a result she was sucked into the screw of the motor or whatever this thing called. Sky dived after her and brought her back on the boat, but she died due to the blood loss.

In my handwritten version it was really long and tears queezing scene, but i was too lazy to type it all, so it basically was shortened to 1 (one) sentence: Bloom didn't make it to the port.

i also had a picture attached, it was i think a cover of some of the comics where Sky holds Bloom on his arms and they're stepping out of the water, but i photishoped it and added many wounds and BLOOD BLOOD EVERYWHERE!!!

I also remember photoshopping screenshots from the first winx movie, adding bloody wounds on Bloom and tears and trying to make her face sad lol. And also i remember, i didn't have access to the computer all the time in my childhood, and there was a weird time... when i'd got a chance to be on the computer, i would made a specific search in google, to find that one art with Bloom, being fucking stabbed, lying on the ground and crying, and touching the golden heart-shaped locket with the name Sky on it, and you could see that it was Sky's sword that stabbed her, and he was walking away in the distance. I could stare at that art for hours, imagining how it happened. I also remeber how the art suddenly stopped showing up at the search and i had only tiny squeezed jpg version of it, and i thought that google banned this art for being so violent lmao

Btw i found that art, it's by Chibiusa-Moon, here it is, and i remember it diffferently, i thought Bloom had enchantix on her lmao

BUT THEN SOMETHING CHANGED. I DON'T KNOW WHEN. I DON'T KNOW WHY. BUT ICY CAME AND DESTROYED MY LOVE FOR BLOOM, AND TOOK HER PLACE.

I suspect that it happened after i saw ep1 of season 3, because HAVE YOU SEEN THIS WOMAN IN THAT EPISODE?! SHE WAS ✨✨S L A Y I G✨✨ DAMN!!! She freed herself looking fab as fuck (i've only seen her battle uniform at that point, and her casual outfit shocked me, i was like HOLY SHIT?? DIFFERENT COLTHES?) (and it's if you forgen the HOLY SHIT, TRIX IN THE FIRST EPISODE OF THE SEASON?!!!), sayed the edgiest thing in the world, then freed her sisters, skated away from the giant snake ON HER DAMN HEELS AS A QUEEN!!!!! I think this was the moment when i fell for her. Maybe i'm wrong and it happened earlier, but this is all i can remeber.

Well, i also remember when my mom got me my first winx magazine and i was really disappointed that there were no Trix in the comic AHHASJGDAJS it was comic about bloom and diaspro going to the land of the dragons.

And, funny enough, i think i didn't kill Icy in my fics (mostly)

wait fuck. i remembered one (that was actually properly published and finished), let me just refresh my memory real quick- (gonna cringe soo hard ahaha)

oh shit i also remembered some stuff. In my later fanfics i was tending to make Bloom real psychopath, who decided to straight up destroy all the witches and all the dark magic. Hey. Hey. I bet 13 year old me wouldn't mind if i borrowed this idea fom her...

EHM ANYWAY, BACK TO THAT ONE FINISHED FIC!

It's so cringy written, but it's got the spirit HASHDHA. The trix summon some another army of darkness that was created to destroy fairies (hey), but at some point they lose control of it and the army turns against them. They have no ther choice but to seek help from the winx. winx of course don't want to help since their army attacked alfea... but the trix didn't give this order.

by the way tehre's one dialogue that i think is actually good and i think is in character

"But how do we know that it isn't one of your tricks?" - asked Tecna. - "Probability of this equals 85,9%!" Everyone froze. Nobody had this idea before. Then Icy shook her head. "No, it's not." "How do we know?" Stella said suspiciously. "If we wanted to trick you, we'd choose less humiliating way" Icy replied coldly.

in the end witches and fairies teeaming up, and going on an adventure to stop this army with some artifacts. Significant part of the way they had to make on their own without magic, and during that winx and trix are actualy growing to like each other. OH THERES ALSO A FUNNY THING LOL

But as a night roommate she [Icy] turned out to be very restless. She was moving all the time and mumbling something. And then at some point she screamed: "Damn fairies, i wish you all dead!" Bloom jumped on her place and still half sleeping replied: "Shut up, witch, or you're done for!" and fell back asleep. All in all, it was hell of a night.

i still think this is funny af-- damn these dialogues are only getting better. Next day they getting closer to their destination.

Suddenly they heard Stormy's voice: "Wait! there's some sign! Icy, can you read this?" "Why her?" Stella asked offended. "We all here can read!" "Except for you," Darcy noted gloomily and everyone laughed. "Ha, well, if you're so smart, come here and read!" Icy said with the sweetest voice. "And next time we'll ask you." Stella understood that she was cornered. To save the rest of her dignity, she came closer and started staring at the sign. "I-I cant for some reason, this handwriting is awful!" with dispair sloar fairy realised that she doesn't understand these letters. "And this cold is driving me nuts! Give me cup of hot coffee and warm blanket!"

then Icy teaches Bloom how to skate. And then Aisha (Leyla) dies by falling into some bottomless pit- After that they make it to their destination, but the army was waiting for them there

another dialogue

"Let's go!" Icy said decisively. "No, wait! I'll go alone. If they catch me, you all get out of here as fast as you can" [...] "No!" Bloom said. "I'll go with you!" "Fine. But they'll kill you immediately" "And you?" "And I will be tortured" Icy smiled.

I can't with this lol, Icy smiling at the thought of torture as a true psycho she is.

Icy touched the wall, making sure it's quite hard. "Well? What's next?" "You're the brain of the operation, you tell me!" redhead replied, crushing piece of the rock in her hand

i just like this interaction here.

"Winx Believix!" Winx screamed. And Trix didn't scream anything, Icy just snapped her fingers and all three were already in their witch uniforms.

yeah classic.

the fight begins, Icy is trying to understand what to do with the artifacts, Musa dies, then they teleport to some other planet where they can perform the ritual to destroy the whole army at once. They're reading the spell, but something is missing, and the army attacks them here too. This time Bloom is left to figure out what were they missing, and some drops of her blood fell on the artifact and that was the last piece of the spell. The army is destroyed, but Icy was seriously injuried when covering Bloom from attack from behind. Now they're flying back to Magix

FUCK-- guys i'm sorry. More dialogues on the way.

"Why are you here?" she [Icy] asked, opening her eyes. "Doesn't want to miss your death!" Stella screamed, she overheard the talk. "Shut up!" I [Darcy] replied. "Or I'll hit you!" "Oh-oh, I'm so scared!" "Discussed my funeral already?" Icy asked, surprisingly, without sarcasm. "Come on, don't listen to that fairy! She has only fashion and straw in her head." Icy smiled weakly. "Magix!" Bloom screamed looking out the window. Fairies came closer to the glass. "Where?!" Icy got worried. Golden-green disc of the planet surrounded by thick ring of asteroids was hanging in the center of the window. Icy could see it without moving. "And here my dream came true. I got Magix!" she lifted her arm and closed her fingers around the planet. "Didn't think that the view from the space is so beautiful..."

DSHGJADFKAJHSFDJG what have i done. This line about her dream coming true HITS HARD. Fuck, 13 y.o. me knew which buttons she should push.

Icy dies. Darcy and Stormy were forgiven because they helped to stop the army and for Icy's "sacrifice" and everyone very conveniently forget that they started the recent war. The end.

Damn that was a ride.

um, so where were we?... right i was saying that Icy became my new hyperfixation instead of Bloom...

And i had the whole trilogy planned, in the first one she'd escape from some prison and attempt another plan to counquer Magix, but fail, in the next book she'd be KILLED by Bloom but came back to life by making a deal with someafterlife owner (HA) and the last one where she actually succeeds... this one i din't think through at ALL.

I kinda wanna revive that plot fron the second "book" tbh, i still remeber it really well.

In a comic.

(i'd make it a crossover with Hazbin but it won't work unfortunately)

okay i don't know where and how to end this post so i'm ending it here, have a nice day thanks for reading i hope that at least someone made it to the end.

[wh01s-isabela]

I hardly see headcanons about the EW characters as dads so...

Here's a little thing

(This was not proofread and english it's not my first language!)

For me, Edd is a certified dad person in any way possible. He actually is responsible and chill in a good balance. Oh.. And the dad jokes.. Don't even get me started.

He's the super supportive but kinda embarrassing type of dad. He's gonna make you embarrassed on public. On purpose. And gonna be so fucking smug about it. (He's not too mean tho! My boy doesn't want his baby sad or uncomfortable!)

This man is all cutie patootie with his kid, tries to make the best relationship humanly possible. If he's noticing signs that something's off than he will sit and talk about whatever is going on. Talking about.. Well, TALKING, I think he likes to chat with his kid, maybe create jokes and be inventive in general. He has to stimulate his child's imagination!

You guys are wearing silly daughter/son and dad t-shirts. No questions asked

Secretly trying to induce his child to appreciate cola like him since the womb...

If his child likes pepsi or diet cola he's FLABBERGASTED. BETRAYED. HOW COULD YOU? AFTER ALL THE SACRIFICES HE'D DONE FOR YOU!??

Basically will playfully rival you a little, always scoffing if you're drinking or buying those drinks

Probably if he had to go to his kid's school on Profession Day, and all that bullshit, he would be bullied for being an artist and making commissions/graphic design. Picture one little girl that has a police officer dad or some cool shit, saying to his kid like "my mom said that only slobs turn hobby's into work"

Punch this kid.

Because when he shows his work the other children are like :0

He wouldn't be the type of dad to scream or beat his kid. More like the "go sit in the corner and think about what you did" type of dad. Grounding is also an option

But oh Don't get this guy here mad because oh god is genuinely frightening. Serious mode is on and all.

If his child give him a drawing of him, a crooked flower, A cat that looks like a rock or whatever, THAT SHIT IS GOING TO THE FRIDGE. He so proud that this grow ass man is sobbing like a baby

If his kid asked the one million dollar question: "how babies are made" he'll sigh deeply and say "when two people love each other very very much..." Or "the stork" or basically any crazy thing that makes you satisfied.

If his kid is being bullied be prepared cuz he's going to fight a 6 years old and lose

If his child starts dating he's mostly chill. But still keeping an eye on the person they're dating to see if they're not bad company

He makes his child go out and touch some grass but his healthy attempts stop there. Because he's a little irresponsible on the food and drink aspect so the reader will have to take care of that, to prevent your kid from getting diabetes or smth

He's always trying to come up with something exciting on the weekends, be it a trip or a gourmet dinner of sorts

Now, I if I had to choose if Edd would be a girl dad or a boy dad, I'd say... Both

Honestly he fits so lovely with both genders of baby, and I don't think he would particularly have a preference

As for number, I think his limit would be three. And the child would most likely not be planned, but I'm not so sure on that hc I'll have to think about it a little more sry

In the end of the day, he just wants to be the coolest and most amazing dad possible or die trying

(Please don't-)

Now speaking of Tom... It's difficult

He's not OPPOSED to the idea but.. You sure you want to have a real baby with HIM?

He might want to sit down and talk, after all, raising a child is not like just buying a shoe or something. He might need a little time to think about it

Tho, he also can't help but feel a little intrigued. He has never been the dad type but.. The idea kinda of makes he feels fuzzy inside. If he's 100℅ sure then he will be chill about it

Ok let's get into the child part

He's the type to think he will be awful as a dad, but end up being really good. Not perfect. But good enough.

He has quite the troubled childhood so he wants his child to rely on him, to know he's there to protect them and will never go away.

He normally takes most things seriously but when he's a father? My man does not play

He's actually pretty good at handling kids. Ofc he's got a temper but he's so used to his friends shenanigans and all the stressing stuff that he has built a tolerance to not snap all the time.

It takes a lot to get him on blind rage, but if his child manage to do that. Well, he'll scream.. Sorry it might startle the poor kid but he'll apologize afterwards. I also don't think he would NOT beat his child. He never got this treatment as a kid and he doesn't think it's necessary. The last thing he wants for his kid is a childhood with pain

His punishments are like doing chores, grounding and that stuff

In the baby phase, oh he will take SO MANY PHOTOS. Nothing convinces me otherwise. He naturally loves photography, so taking pictures of his little bundle of joy? Sign him up

Imagining him putting checkered stuff on his kid. A little checked hat, some cute checkered glasses for the beach, checkered tiny shoes...

I think he would gift his child the Tommee bear. I thinks this little bear has kind of the pass to generation thing. If he has another kid he would tell the older one to give the younger one the plush.

If his kid wants to learn how to play the bass, he's hyped. His kid will have a strong liking to music naturally. He'll be impressively patient with the child, repeating the chords how many times is necessary for them to get it

If his kid got into a fight, he will act all worried and checking them up but then will throw "did you win?" Then proceed to give them a long ass scolding lecture

He'll teach his kid self defense. Physically and verbally. Not how to curse but how to win or be aloof in a argument. It end up with his kid throwing sarcastic shit at their teachers

Just picture the scene: his child entering in his car after he received the news that his child got a Warning. When questioning them, they explain:

Kid: don't get mad okay..?

Tom: I won't. Now tell me, why did you got a warning?

Kid: okay so.. I was in class and we were having math lessons. The teacher asked what's 8 x 5, and I answered 40

Tom: that's right. But why did you got a warning then?

Kid: it wasn't because of that. After that she asked me what's 5 x 8.

Tom: it's the same shit.

Kid: that's what I said!

Tom: huh?

Kid: the teacher asked what's 5 x 8 and I said it's the same shit. That's why I got a warning!

Tom: .... *proceeds to laugh his ass off*

Ahem, ahem anyways

He would probably try making his child hate Christmas too

Like, saying santa claus eats children and transforms them in presents and shit

He's a menace and it's giving his kid nightmares

In the morning of the Christmas eve, reader will find their little kid soaking the three with gasoline while holding matches

They probably damaged those animatronic santas who play trumpet at the store's doors. And cried or attacked the shopping center santa while sitting on his lap. If they even have the courage to

Santa: what's your Christmas wish little girl/boy?

Kid: that you die! *proceeds to run crying for Tom and reader*

He probably tries to get his child's language on line but, they got this sailor inside them sometimes. Genetics I guess.

Like:

Kid: oh shit-

Tom: hey, watch your fucking language.

Reader: *burying their face in their hands groaning*

Tom is the "I support the current thing" dad. He will support whatever his child is liking (if is legal ofc) even if is a little weird.

When his kid started dating this would go to ways. If is a boy, he's chill but warning them to not fuck anything up and treat their partner well. If it's a girl, oh boy, protective dad mode. Only in the beginning tho. If he sees the person it's nice and safe, and his kid it's happy than he will be more chill about it. But don't even try sneak up or make out on his watch. No one touches his little girl like that. But again, after a while he's pretty casual about it like.. Really.

*person the kid's dating bringing a drink to them*

Kid: no chocolate? No plushies? No blanket?

*person proceeds to bring everything they want*

Kid: thanks

Person: no head?

Kid: *glare at them looking at Tom, that's literally sitting on the couch reading next to them*

Tom: they got a point tho...

Again with the million dollar question: "how babies are made", I think Tom would say something like "babygun" (tomska reference-) or he would shrug and left the kid frustrated without answers OR the classic "go ask your mom/dad". Not because he's nervous or out of answer ideas, no, it's because he wants to see how you'll explain it. He'll have fun.

I think after meeting and marrying reader after a while, He would quit drinking so much. I mean, he doesn't have a reason to do it so often now isn't it. And don't come at me with drunk aggressive dad Tom headcanons I don't wanna hear 😭

I have the feeling his child would have a little bit of his monster genetics. Maybe lots of it, maybe less. But they would. And when he finds out GOD calling him worried is a statement. You had never seen the man so out of his element. He feels a little guilty too

Which leans to more angst because I have the feeling he knew before the child was born because of the appointments and check ups. Something was off. And the labor was quite difficult.

He basically tries to be present and helpful to his child in a whole

Now about gender, I think he would be a girl dad. No questions asked. But he doesn't have a preference, whatever comes it's k.

And the number, in the start he just want one. Principally after your difficult labor. But with some coaching he might reluctantly accept another one. But that's enough, no more. He wouldn't forgive himself if something happened with you or the fetus.

The baby would be planned

He's a good dad, believe it or not. He just need some learning to. In the end of the day, he just wants to protect his kid and make their life happy and healthy

Matt... Oh Matt..

He's the certified perfect dad material

He would spoil his child SO FRICKING much

In his defense, his kid needs to look pretty all the time!

Will buy tons of cute baby clothes, making people stop in the streets to say "omg your kid's so adorable!" And he will be so smug and proud about it

In his home, praising is a rule. So expect this child to have an amazing self-esteem (I'm jealous). He will always make sure his kid feels amazing and bonita! Because they are! ❤

His kid may grow a little entiled and bratty, and he has to count on reader to put them in line because my boy does not know how to scold a child properly

Again, he wouldn't beat his kid. He would have to rely on reader on the grounding part because in his childhood, he was never actually grounded or punished, his mother always patted his head.

He encourages his kid to express themselves with hair, clothes, makeup, whatever gender they are. His child is a mini diva

He's the type of dad that when his child gains a low score at a final, he just pats their head and say "oh that's not good sweetheart. You must be sad, let's go get ice cream!"

When his child come back to school, he immediately wants to hear any gossip going on. School gossip is the juiciest!

When his baby had its first loud as cry (aside from the ones in the hospital) he would genuinely start crying loudly too without knowing what do to and his child would stop mid tantrum to look at him like "🤨 bro"

If his child started dating HE'S SO EXCITED. So proud his kid is catch like him. But about the person they're dating.. He would be suspicious, asking lots of questions and even making a quiz for them to prove they're worthy of dating his beautiful baby child!

A funny thing is that if the kid's friend or classmates had saw a photo or Matt himself, a couple of them would be simpin on the ginger. Lol and this might stand even on high school. They friends will go like "hey step son/daughter" "bestie would it be crazy if I said your dad's kinda-"

Friend: hey (kids name), how's your dad?~

Kid*frowning*: incredibly married.

Friend: aw, still? God dang it-

Matt it's a good dad tho that's for sure. He just needs to be more firm

Maybe the child might be a half-vampire too!

In that case, at night they would go flying together as bats in a son/daughter and father bonding <3

He's those dads that styles their kids hair for school like they are a princess/prince

Cutest kid on kindergarten, I swear

MILLION DOLLAR QUESTION AGAIN 🗣️🗣️

He would probably answer with things like "*pats head* you'll learn when you're older sweetie" or "i put a little seed on your mothers belly, that seed grow and then unbuttoned on a beautiful flower. You!" (I put mother but it can be gender neutral somehow)

When Matt pleads for something, he does puppy eyes since he was little. His child has the same habit. Reader is fed up in the supermarket while their kid and their grown-ass husband are giving them a puppy look to make them buy more candy/cereal/or literally anything

Not everyone might have this bless, but Matt can be a good listener. Especially to his precious one. Not the most gracious with coherent words but very good at physical comforting

If his child got excluded, bullied or picked on, he will call the kid and their parents and literally GO FOR THEIR NECKS (vampire joke not intended but oh well-). ROAST. COOK. THEM

If his child got into a fight he will be running at them on lightspeed and jump on them, grabbing their face and looking around it saying "is your face okay!?"

His kid would have like, a pile- no. A mountain- nah. A TSUNAMI of toys, stuffed animals, dolls, you name it. He love giving his child lots of things they probably won't need

His kid is popular. If not, don't worry you'll get there someday! Your #1 cheerdad is rooting for you!!

Even with all the spoiling, his kid would eat impressively healthy. Despite Matt being spoiled himself, I think he doesn't got a childish appetite. Not now at least, since he calculated that eating healthily would make him more youthful and pretty.

But oh beware with that baby on his clumsy hands... He had lost your child more than four times by simply looking away for a second.

This baby would be gladly planned

Now, about the gender, I think Matt would prefer a girl. Shoo you stinky boyz. Jk

But he's more in sync with his feminine side. Which isn't a surprise because he masters girl talk, and it's the best boy friend to rely on when your besties are unavailable

Tho he's not opposed to a boy. Ofc not!

But nothing, NOTHING can convince me otherwise. Matt would be a twin girl dad. Hear me out

He and his two little princesses

My heart is melting aa-

Ahem, about number, I think he's limit would be three or four. I feel like he would like a big family.

Matt is such a pookie dad in the end of the day. He gots its flaws but he's learning! And your kid might be a little spoiled but they're surely happy and healthy as you. Ah what a silly loving family indubitably.

So uhhh... Now I was supposed to make Tord's part but it's late and I'm running out of ideas so... Maybe keep it for a next time or part 2? Probably won't happen because like, literally two to four people see what I post so.. That's it, thanks for reading! 💞💞

[pepi1989]

Please write more Ben Shelton fluff? Smth like you being a pro tennis player, maybe even ranked a bit higher in women’s tennis and teaming up for a mixed doubles and it’s super cute and flirty and accidental physical touches like hand holding or brushing hands etc or after winning sets he hugs you tight or pecks your cheek etc stuff like that??? Thank youu

omg first request?? loved writing this

Courtside Chemistry - Ben Shelton

The stadium lights shone bright as the mixed doubles match was about to begin. You glanced over at Ben Shelton, already grinning as he bounced on the balls of his feet, adjusting his racket. Ranked 13th in the world, he had that natural confidence that made everything look effortless, but it was the unspoken chemistry between you two that made this match interesting.

“Ready to carry me?” Ben asked, flashing you a playful smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

You raised an eyebrow, laughing softly. “Carry you? Pretty sure I’m ranked higher, remember?”

His grin widened. “Touché.”

The banter eased the tension, but as the match kicked off, it was game on. The two of you moved in perfect sync, rallying back and forth with your opponents, but every now and then, there’d be a soft brush of skin, an accidental touch that left you hyperaware of his presence.

At one point, you both lunged for the same ball, and your fingers tangled. His hand wrapped briefly around yours, sending a spark up your arm.

“Didn’t mean to steal your shot,” he teased, though his fingers lingered just a little too long.

You rolled your eyes, though a small smile tugged at your lips. “You can leave the shots to me, Shelton.”

The match was neck-and-neck, but you both held your ground, with Ben hyping you up between points. “You’re unreal out here,” he murmured after a particularly tough volley.

His voice was soft, and for a second, you almost forgot you were in the middle of a match. “Focus, Shelton,” you reminded him, though your own heart was racing faster than usual.

When the two of you won the first set, Ben turned to you immediately, arms wide open. Before you could react, he pulled you into a tight hug, the warmth of his body catching you off guard. “We’re on fire!” he whispered in your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine. And just like that, he pressed a quick peck to your cheek, so fast you weren’t sure it even happened. But judging by the smug look on his face, it definitely did.

“Was that necessary?” you asked, trying to keep your cool, though the blush creeping up your neck betrayed you.

“Absolutely,” he winked.

In the second set, things heated up even more. You could feel the eyes of the crowd, but all your attention was on Ben. His constant encouragement, his little laughs when you made a great shot, and the way he’d nudge your shoulder every time you passed each other.

And then, during one particularly intense point, you both dashed towards the net at the same time. You barely managed to return the ball when you collided with him, chest-to-chest. The ball went out of bounds, but neither of you moved, standing frozen in place, faces inches apart.

“Guess we make a good team, huh?” Ben said, voice low, his eyes locked on yours.

You swallowed, feeling the heat of his body so close to yours. “Yeah,” you breathed out, barely able to focus.

When you won the second set and the match, Ben wasted no time. Before the crowd even started cheering, he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close again. “Guess I’m lucky to have the world’s best partner,” he said softly, his voice a little more serious now, as he pressed another kiss to your cheek, this one lingering longer than the first.

The crowd roared, but all you could think about was the way Ben’s hand felt on your waist and how he seemed a little reluctant to let go.

[nickeverdeen]

can you write a violet/xaden/reader fic on any theme you feel comfortable with ?

Shaken | Violet Sorrengail x gn!reader x Xaden Riorson

PS: More context into the request next time please

Pairing: Violet x Xaden x reader (romantic)

Type of fic: Hurt/comfort, light angst, emotional intimacy

Warnings: Mentions of battle aftermath, blood, emotional exhaustion

Summary: After surviving another brutal fight, you find yourself unraveling outside the safety of the outpost—until Violet and Xaden find you and remind you that survival doesn’t mean you have to carry it alone.

❗️IMPORTANT❗️: So basically Tumblr ain’t letting me write on my own anymore so I’m only avaible to answer asks so if someone would be so kind and like once a week write smth so I could write a fanfic on my own, I’d appriciate it. Maybe just smth like “free ask” or smth like that, it doesn’t have to be anything big, but pls help me out with this. Thank you, cariños

———————————

Smoke still clung to the horizon, a ghost of the battle that had ended hours ago. The sky was ash-colored, and the air was too quiet—the kind of quiet that came only after something violent had happened.

You sat with your knees pulled up to your chest, perched on a flat rock just outside the small abandoned outpost your squad had taken shelter in. Your dragon was asleep nearby, wings twitching in some dream you couldn’t imagine. Every inch of you ached, but it wasn’t pain that kept you out here.

It was everything else.

Footsteps behind you didn’t startle you—not because you expected them, but because you were too tired to flinch.

“Mind if I sit?” Violet’s voice was soft. The kind of soft she rarely used with anyone but you and Xaden.

You glanced over your shoulder and nodded. She sat beside you, pulling her cloak tighter against the wind, though you could tell her mind was still on the fight. Probably still counting how close it came to losing someone.

“I didn’t think you’d come out here,” you said eventually, voice rough from smoke and silence.

“I saw you didn’t come in,” she answered, glancing sideways. “And I figured if anyone earned a few minutes to fall apart, it’s you.”

You huffed a humorless laugh. “Not really my style.”

She didn’t argue. Just sat with you in the cold, the silence stretching comfortably until more steps approached.

This time, even Violet turned, instinct pulling her half into a defensive mind-set before she realized who it was.

Xaden.

He looked rough. Blood—some his, most not—stained his jacket. He’d clearly only just stopped patrolling the perimeter.

His eyes met yours first.

“You’re still out here.” Not quite a question. Not quite judgment.

“I’m fine,” you said automatically.

Violet raised a brow. “They’re lying.”

You shot her a look. She shrugged. “Just saying.”

Xaden walked over, crouching in front of both of you, eyes narrowing slightly as if he could read your bones. “You almost died today.”

“So did everyone,” you replied, voice thin.

“But they didn’t have to watch someone use you as a shield.”

That hit harder than expected. You flinched and hated that he noticed.

Violet did too. “Hey,” she said quietly, reaching out to touch your hand. “You didn’t fail. You didn’t break.”

“No,” you whispered, voice barely there. “I just froze.”

“You froze once,” Xaden said, his tone steel but not unkind. “And then you moved. You got your squad out. You held your ground.”

“People still died.”

“So did theirs,” he countered.

You felt Violet’s fingers tighten around yours, warm despite the cold air. “You’re allowed to be shaken, you know. That doesn’t make you weak.”

For a while, the three of you just sat like that, shadows in the dusk, grief and exhaustion thick between you but not sharp enough to push you apart.

And when you finally leaned your head against Violet’s shoulder, and she leaned back, and Xaden stayed crouched close enough to be a quiet, grounding presence—no one said a word.

Because sometimes comfort wasn’t in speaking.

It was in not being alone in the quiet that followed the storm.

[madridfangirl]

wrote smth bc i was bored

Jude’s phone buzzed the second he stepped into the team bus. He didn’t have to check to know who it was.

Dove: Call me when you can, okay?

He sighed, running a hand through his curls before pressing the call button. It rang once before her voice, soft and familiar, filled his ears

"Jude…"

He exhaled heavily, leaning his head back against the seat. “I know.”

"It wasn’t your fault," she said immediately, firm but gentle. "That ref was ridiculous. The second yellow was—"

"Doesn’t matter," he muttered, voice tight. "It happened. I let the team down."

Ananya was quiet for a second, and then—"You know, if I was there, I’d be hugging you right now."

Jude let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head. "I’d probably bury my face in your shoulder and refuse to move."

"You would," she teased softly. "Big, tough footballer, but the second something goes wrong, he just wants cuddles."

"Shut up," he murmured, but there was a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

There was a rustling sound on her end, like she was shifting under her blankets. "I know today sucked," she said, voice softer now, "but one bad night doesn’t erase everything you’ve done. You’re still Jude. My Jude."

His chest tightened. "You always know exactly what to say, don’t you?"

"That’s because I know you," she whispered.

Jude closed his eyes, letting the warmth of her words sink in. "Wish you were here."

"Me too," she admitted. "But since I’m not, just do me a favor?"

"Anything."

"Sleep, okay?" she said, voice laced with quiet affection. "And when you wake up, remember that no stupid red card could ever change how much I love you."

Jude swallowed the lump in his throat, nodding even though she couldn’t see him. "I love you too."

And for the first time that night, something in him felt lighter.

Jude didn’t even think twice. The second the plane touched down in Madrid, he ignored the usual routine—no waiting around, no unnecessary stops. He just needed her.

By the time he was knocking on Ananya’s door, it was past midnight. His duffel bag was slung over his shoulder, his hoodie pulled up to hide the exhaustion written all over his face. The red card, the frustration, the noise—none of it mattered now. He just wanted to be home.

And Ananya? She was home.

The door swung open, and there she was—hair messy from sleep, drowning in one of his hoodies.

"Jude," she breathed, eyes scanning his face like she already knew exactly why he was here.

He didn’t say a word. Just stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in the crook of her neck.

Her hands slid up his back, holding him just as tightly. "Hey, love," she whispered, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. "Rough night?"

Jude exhaled shakily, his grip on her tightening. "Horrible," he mumbled against her skin. "I just needed to see you."

"You’re here now," she murmured, threading her fingers through his curls, grounding him. "You’re okay."

For a moment, neither of them moved. He just held her, breathing her in, letting her warmth melt away the frustration still lingering in his bones.

Ananya pulled back slightly, just enough to cup his face. "You look exhausted."

"I feel exhausted," he admitted.

"Come inside," she urged, pulling him in gently before shutting the door behind him. "You need to rest."

Jude kicked off his shoes, dropping his bag without care. The moment they reached the couch, he collapsed onto it, dragging her down with him until she was tucked under his arm.

"Didn’t even change out of your hoodie," she teased, fingers playing with the hem.

"It smells like you," he murmured, his voice lower now, sleep creeping in. "Didn’t want to let go of you, even for a second."

Ananya softened, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "You’re ridiculous."

"I’m yours," he corrected, eyes already fluttering shut.

She smiled, tracing slow circles on his chest. "Yeah, you are."

And as he drifted off, his arms still locked around her, Jude realized—no matter what happened on the pitch, no matter how brutal the game got, as long as he had her to come home to, he’d be okay

was listening to Pretty Boy by The Neighbourhood while writing this

This has been a very tough week and you just put a massive smile on my face. Thank you dear anon, I look forward to a lot more titbits from you.

[the-speyeral]

fiddauthor drabble or smth

tw for implied homophobia and a panic attack from it (happy ending though)

Ford’s heart was racing. He couldn’t breathe and his vision was tunnelling. Where was he again? What was going on? He touched his hands to his face and felt that it was wet. Was he crying?

He slid town to the floor, keeping his head facing down, fingers gripping it.

Why had he thought attending a party would be a good idea? He was out of his element and he had known that before accepting Fiddleford’s invitation. 

Distantly, he heard a knock at the door and what sounded like someone talking, but he couldn’t make out the words.

He needed to breathe; ground himself. What was that exercise again? Five… five what? He couldn’t remember. He couldn’t calm down. His head was spinning more now.

Breathe.

Just breathe, Ford.

Suddenly there was something on his hand and he jumped in surprise, eyes wide. There was someone in front of him.

“Ford? You okay hon? It’s Fiddleford. You’re okay,” he placed his hand back on Ford’s and gently removed them from his friend’s hair.

“I- I- I don-”

“Shh, hey, it’s okay,” Fiddleford embraced Ford, gently rubbing his back, “It’s okay. We’ll get you out of here. Don’ really want to be hanging with this crowd after that anyways.”

They sat like that until Ford’s tears stopped and his breathing properly steadied.

Ford was able to look around now. They were in a washroom, and he noted that Fiddleford had locked the door. He was grateful.

He remembered why he ran here in the first place. His heart sank.

He had kissed someone. He had kissed a man. He was still drunk, and the room had been dark, so the details were all fuzzy. Who would he have-

“Fordsy? Are you back with us?”

“I… Yeah. Just… I don’t want to go back out there, Fidds. I- I can’t.”

Fiddleford nodded in understanding, “Me neither,” he scanned the room quickly before his eyes landed on-, “That window’s pretty big. You reckon you can fit?”

Ford smiled, still sniffling when the pair pulled apart, “Definitely.”

~~~

They ended up in a field, sitting in the back of Fiddleford’s truck and staring up at the stars. This was one of Ford’s favourite places. It was peaceful and secluded, even if they were technically trespassing.

“So… you wanna talk about what happened?” Fiddleford asked carefully.

“It was just- it was a stupid heat-of-the-moment thing, Fidds. I was too drunk to… I didn’t think about where I was; who was around. I’m… I’m sorry for ruining your night.”

A moment of silence passed before Fiddleford responded, “Oh, Ford… You didn’t ruin anything, and hey, I’m also to blame, you know. If I had known they were-”

“Fidds, stop. You didn’t even know I like- you didn’t even know I was gay. You didn’t know they would respond like that. None of this was your fault.”

“I did… I did kiss you back, though.”

Ford’s heart sped up, “What?”

“Look, I- I know- the both of us were wasted – still kinda’ are – but I know we- I know- sorry. I just… am I readin’ too much into it? Ford do you- Does this… does this change anything? Ae we still… us?”

It was then that Ford smiled, rubbing a hand down his face before placing it in Fiddleford’s.

“Yeah, Fidds. We’re still us."

[nyc3]

Hey I have a question. I never saw the movie nor I want to see it +Nine sounds cool as fuck but....bk is in the movie) my question here is......why shig killed Nine?

When that scene was reblogged on Twitter I had the impression it was smth like "nine was using his name and shig wasn't pleased" ...can't be that bc this makes sense. Too much sense.

So did shig just kill the guy bc yes?

Maybe afo or the Dr evil asked shig to do so... which is plausible but damn...what waste. And it cements once again shig as a npc.

I'll try to explain this the best I can, because tbh nothing about this situation makes sense to me even today. And some context of the movie as well.

The movie starts with a scene of the LOV transporting Nine while he was still on a medical capsule inside a truck. There's a reference to this situation in the manga when the doctor request Shigaraki to deliver "something" for him.

But here's a thing: neither the movie or the prequel chapter Horikoshi made explain where Nine was being delivered or what the doctor intended to do with him in case he arrived to destiny. It feel that missing context is important.

In any case, the heroes attack the truck trying to arrest the league. The truck is destroyed in the battle and this allows Nine to escape and go back with his team.

Then we got a couple of scenes were Shigaraki seem to be tracking Nine activities, also using Hawks to do the research job for them (it's worth mentioning the events of the movie are supposed to happen at some point after MVA).

And after all this... nothing really, the movie drops this subplot and Shigaraki only appears again in the end when he comes out of literally nowhere to kill Nine. Allow me to ask how they even know his exact location? The black goo teleportation quirk doesn't even work like that btw.

Just like you my first assumption was Garaki ordered him to do so, maybe because after the spectacle Nine did in the island the doctor decided to eliminate him for security reasons. But we never got any indication of this being the case, in fact there's a scene when Garaki explicitly tells Shigaraki to not touch "it" (Nine).

Things became more confusing because in MVA when Shigaraki gives Garaki one of his edgy speeches about destroying everything he hates, there's a small cameo of Nine among the things crusty boy hates.

On a side note: this is technically Nine's first ever appearance, even before the movie itself was released. A sort of foreshadow for what it coming.

But going back to the point: why Shigaraki hates Nine so much in the first place? We never got a clear reason for any of this, isn't like they ever interacted, the only time before the movie they have some kind of contact was the prequel chapter focused on Nine, and that was only Shigaraki looking at Nine through a window.

Also the final scene when crusty boy kills Nine for some reason makes it sounds the situation is very personal? Like if Shigaraki hold some grudge against Nine for some reason.

And the line "I agree, there only can be one king" doesn't make any sense because isn't like Shigaraki knew about Nine's ideology and his desire of rule the world. The writers makes it seem to be like they both interacted and had a long term rivalry for some reason, but that never happened.

Oh and it's extra hilarious how Shigaraki killing Nine for no reason directly contradicts this other little scene:

If crusty a**hole always intended to be "a hero for villains" (as the story seem to pretend) what about Nine then? Idk but for me killing a defendless man while he was crawling on the ground doesn't seem too heroic.

Let's not forget Nine was a real hero for villains without presume about it. He saved the life of Chimera, Slice and Mummy in a way Shigaraki wish to be able to do with the lov.

Honestly is funny to think all this one directional hate Shigaraki feels for Nine could be just crusty boy being jaleous, which won't be surprise considering Nine is superior to him in everyway possible.

But well, thinking about this on a perspective outside the story itself an explanation of why Nine was killed maybe is because Horikoshi just needed a reason to get rid of him, as his presence might be problematic for the course of the main story. I mean it would be a bit suspicious to have another AFO possible vessel who happens to be better than Shigaraki, and Nine is the only movie main villain to be permanently killed on screen, while all the others like Wolfram and Flect survived.

Anyway, all this festival of bs let a bitter taste in my mouth.

Needless to say, such a good villain like Nine surely deserved way better than he got.

[miumura]

( 🎞️ ) LOVE EASILY CRUMBLES — TAEHYUN SHORT FIC

[ DAY FIVE ] of the advent calendar !

( 🎞️ ) SYNOPSIS . . how easy it is to lose love for a season.

( .𖥔 ݁ ) PAIRING . . classmate!taehyun x classmate!gn-reader

( 🎞️ ) GENRE . . fluff, angst | FT. K + NICHOLAS ( &TEAM )

( .𖥔 ݁ ) WARNINGS . . profanity, miscommunications, someone kinda being a douchebag, taehyun is kinda frustrating ngl bc he holds GRUDGESSS 😪 — WORD COUNT : 1.1K+ ( 1139 )

( 🎞️ ) NOTE . . omg is this the start of soph FINALLY working on smth for txt 😱?? LMAO trust i have been trying for the past months but the ideas never got finished so </3 so im def proud of myself for getting this out n finished for u guys 🤍

"Come on! Ask him out!" K whispered, nudging you in Kang Taehyun's direction.

"I can't do this right now! I'm nervous—seriously, calm down!" You attempted to hold your ground, even pushing back, but the inevitable draw towards your crush seemed unstoppable.

"Stop playing matchmaker at the moment!"

"You need to make a move! You both complement each other so well! You, the energetic one, and him, the quiet one—it's a perfect match, if you ask me!" After a final nudge from K, you found yourself right next to Taehyun, who was seated at his desk, engrossed in a book with earbuds in. Well, fuck.

Sensing your presence, your crush, Kang Taehyun, glanced up, his eyebrow arching in mild surprise. Cursing your nerves, you hastily fished out a folded piece of paper from your pocket. Placing it on his desk, you offered a fleeting smile before dashing away.

You locked eyes with K, shooting him a fierce glare. "K, you're in trouble."

"Hey! I helped you—" K's protest was cut short as you chased him out of the classroom, eliciting a yelp. "I'm sorry!"

Meanwhile, Taehyun observed the scene, a small smile gracing his lips at the commotion. Returning his focus to the piece of paper, he carefully unfolded it.

"Here’s my number: XXX-XXX-XXXX.

Let’s go out?"

Despite his typically reserved and aloof nature, Taehyun found himself smiling, a faint pink tint gracing his cheeks—an unfamiliar but welcome sensation for him.

"And then—holy shit!" You exclaimed, eyes widened as you stared at your phone screen. Your heart raced far faster than usual, but who wouldn't get excited over something like this? "He actually texted me!"

"Who?" Nicholas barely showed any reaction but was still curious about the source of your unexpected excitement. “The quiet loser?”

You playfully hit his arm, causing him to wince and rub the spot. “No need to diss my future boyfriend now.”

“Okay, now you're delusional—and your taste in men is terrible too?”

“Oh fuck off, Nicholas,” you retorted, your eyes fixed on your phone, a smile spreading across your face as you read Taehyun's messages.

Hey YN, it’s Taehyun.

So, where do you wanna go?

You quickly typed up a response, “There’s a lovely spot not too far from here. Beautiful trees and a bench made for two. Oh, and there's a chance of snow today! It could be the perfect moment…unless you're not a fan of snow?”

He read your messages, and at this point, you were practically biting your fingernails, hoping he shared your affection for winter. It was your favorite season, with its enchanting snow and the opportunity to wear layers of cozy clothing.

That sounds wonderful. I love the snow :)

When?

With a sense of relief, you quickly arranged for the date to happen today, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement when Taehyun agreed. "I can't believe I just set up a date."

“I still don’t know what you see in him.”

“Stop being a mood killer, Nicho.”

You were spot on—tonight, snowfall was abundant, and Taehyun faced biting winds that blew the snowflakes into his face. Extending his hand, the snowflakes delicately settled in his palm, melting at his touch. At least the snow was pretty today.

Glancing at the time on his phone—6 PM, precisely on schedule—he approached the location. It was indeed a charming sight. The lights cast a soft glow above the bench, creating an atmosphere purposefully crafted for a romantic encounter for two. A smile graced his face; everything seemed just perfect, tailored to his ideal kind of date.

Sitting down on the bench, he looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of you at any moment. He waited.

And waited.

An hour had passed, and you hadn’t arrived. Taehyun was puzzled; where could you be? He was confident about the time—6 PM and the location you had chosen. His phone suddenly chimed, a notification he hoped was from you, but instead, it was a text from an unknown number.

You really think YN would go on a date with someone like you?

The text hit him like a ton of bricks.

She's popular, you're not. Why would she waste her time on a loser like you?

Doubt crept in, making his heart sink.

He felt a wave of nausea rising, his grip on the phone tightening, his fingers nearly turning numb. Did he raise his hopes for nothing? Did he really think that you were going to be different from the rest? The biting cold made it increasingly hard for him to catch his breath—how he despised the sensations coursing through him.

Nervously, his fingers hovered over your contact, finally pressing the call button. He didn’t know what he was doing, but it just felt like the right thing. Anxiously, he chewed on his lip while waiting on the line, and soon, he heard shuffling in the background. His eyes widened at how quickly you picked up the phone.

"Hey Taehyun?" Your voice sounded surprisingly calm on your end.

"Where are you?" he asked, trying to maintain composure, but the cold and wind were beginning to make him sound shaken up.

“I’m here with Nicholas—why do you ask?”

Taehyun should’ve known.

“So I’ve been waiting out here in the cold for no reason?”

“Huh?”

“The date you wanted to go on, YN. God, can you stop acting oblivious and tell me how you actually feel about me?” Taehyun feels the anger getting to him, his voice already rising.

“But the date is set to 8 PM? Wait, did I not tell you that?”

“That’s just a fucking excuse, isn’t it?”

“No, I thought I told you 8 PM? Oh my god—Taehyun, I’m so sorry. It’s a mistake, I swear!” You felt panicked, re-reading the text message you sent, realizing your mistake.

“Yeah right.” he just couldn’t help but chuckle at his situation.

“Taehyun, you have to believe me—” But he cut you off, “I already know how you feel. Thanks for playing with me—oh, and most important, thanks for ruining winter for me.”

“Wait—” But Taehyun hung up before you could continue. He had too many thoughts swirling in his head to deal with everything at that moment.

Taehyun sat alone on the snow-covered bench, the bitter cold seeping into him as he felt the disappointment and frustration swirl within. His emotions were a chaotic mess, a blend of anger, hurt, and the numbing chill of the winter night. The twinkling lights above seemed to mock his shattered hopes.

As he walked away, his shoulders weighed heavy with a mix of resentment and sorrow. Winter, once his beloved season, was now tarnished by this painful memory.

With a heavy heart, Taehyun knew this winter would forever hold a bitter taste, a season stained by a shattered promise and unfulfilled expectations.

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