#until i finally looked at it and was like '. . . wait. it's different!"

[aakeysmash]

maybes and sunscreen

college!sukuna masterlist

after almost a year of living together, you and college!sukuna are so accustomed to one another that you naturally slip up in the other’s conversations. maybe it's because you're both homebodies, or maybe it's because you've reached the silent agreement to keep the activities you do with yuuji hidden to preserve his innocent childhood (you learned that rumors run a long way inside your campus), or maybe it's because you started to ask sukuna less private questions, since he now seems to want to answer them even before you formulate them.

either way, the two of you always mention the other in conversations, and you don't even seem to notice, but your friends do.

"how about your house, man?" suguru asks sukuna from across the table, sipping his soda. they're sitting outside with satoru for lunch break, slouching on white plastic chairs, waiting for practice to start in less than ten minutes. days are getting longer the more summer break gets nearer, and the breeze flowing through the newly green leaves of the trees is a nice change from the humid stench of the locker rooms.

"dunno. the woman of the house is gonna bake cookies today," he shrugs, scrolling through his phone. he finds himself on a blurry zoomed in photo of a kitten covered in milk, and he smirks, hitting send after having selected your contact. you're going to love it.

"and?" geto asks, confused.

"and i don't know if she wants me to help her or not," sukuna continues, not bothering to look up from his screen, acting like he's not going to pester you until you let him help. and steal some of your cookie batter, too.

"it's the finale, bro, we've been talking about it since december. are you really not going to watch it for some cookies?" his raven haired friend exclaims, baffled. satoru only lowers his glasses on his nose, crossing his arms on his chest.

"oh, i'm going to watch it. got her hooked up on it too," the pink haired man says, a certain tilt to his voice matching the tilt of his head, as if he's saying are you crazy? i'm not missing it. "i don't know if she'd want you there, though."

geto rolls his eyes and satoru snickers, shaking his head. "we just want to watch the game on your tv. are you afraid she's going to feel uncomfortable with us there, my lord captain?" he mocks, sighing. lazily, sukuna glances his way.

"it's not her i'm worried about," he says, raising one of his eyebrows, maroon eyes squinting on a spot behind his friend's back.

"what does that even mean?" mutters geto, even more confused. it’s not like they’ve never seen you or have never been inside your house when you were there, so what’s different this time?

suddenly, sukuna grins like a madman, uncrossing his legs from on top of the table and standing up with his helmet under his arm.

“where are you goi-“ his dark haired friend starts, but satoru puts one of his hands on the other’s shoulder, effectively stopping him, whispering just wait.

sukuna takes a couple of steps, getting out of the gentle shadows of the trees above the table, still grinning.

“hi, baby. did you miss me so much you had to come to see me at practice?” he asks your nearing figure. you’re wearing a dress, the breeze soothingly flowing through your hair, and he takes a second to admire how graceful you look in the middle of the green garden. are the flowers you picked with yuuji the other day still fresh? maybe he should get more. maybe you’d like that. maybe you’d smile. maybe you'd thank him.

“i’m here because i knew you were never going to bring sunscreen with you, dickhead,” you huff, blowing your hair out of your vision, frowning. his grin only grows before he forces it away. typical.

“i don’t need that shit,” he rolls his eyes, turning on his heels and going towards the stadium. he knows you’re going to follow him. and you do.

“put it on! i’m not joking, sukuna,” you whine, trying to fall in step with him. “it’s going to be so good for your skin, come on.”

“it’s sticky and i don’t like feeling like a pussy,” he growls, going faster toward the benches inside the stadium and plopping down on them.

“you like pussy, though,” you shrug, forcing yourself between his parted legs, rummaging through your bag.

“i like you too, baby, but that doesn’t mean you’ll let me stick it in your pussy, does it,” he asks you smugly. you punch him on the shoulder, bewildered.

“you’re so disgusting,” you scoff, opening the little spf tube you brought in your purse just for him. "and don't tell me you like me when you never listen to me in the first place," you playfully add, caressing his face to smooth it out, and he lets you get his unruly hair off of his forehead. maybe he likes how you don't take the things he says to heart. maybe he just says them because he knows he's getting a snarky comment back.

“you didn’t say no, though,” he chuckles, closing his eyes and letting himself bask in your presence. your touch on his features is relaxing. he honestly thinks he could fall asleep if you were in any other setting.

“i’m letting you talk just because i’m in a male dominated field and even if i don’t agree i don’t want to die,” you deadpan. you smear the white cream on his nose, on top of the horizontal tattoo, and massage it into his skin. then you do the same thing with his other markings, making sure they’re protected enough to shimmer in the blazing hot sun.

“i wouldn’t let you die on me anyway,” he mutters. he gets both of his hands on your exposed thighs, keeping you closer, softly rubbing his thumbs in your muscles. "are you fucking finished? i hate this," he bites, frowning. you hum, lazily smiling down at him, rubbing his frown away with your fingertips.

"you're going to be the prettiest girl on the field," you coo. you can feel his mean glare from beneath his eyelids, and you almost shiver. "you're so going to thank me in a couple of years," you add, resting your palms on his cheeks and turning his head up. he opens his eyes slowly, staring into yours intently. his thumb catches on the fluttering hem of you dress while he draws little circles on your legs. he hears his coach screaming for his team to start running, but in this moment, he doesn't care that much. maybe the heat is getting to his head. maybe the soft smile you're looking at him with is making him a little bit weak in the knees.

"wanna make cookies today? we can watch the match together, perhaps ask the brat if he wants to join too," he says, rough voice kept low, almost as if this was a you and him kind of thing. maybe he already planned to ask you to do something with him when he was talking to his friends just a couple of minutes ago. maybe he lied, telling them you were the one who chose to do something, when it's not true. maybe the way satoru is patting suguru on the back with an "i told you so" look on his face isn't casual. maybe the one he was worried about all along was himself.

"wouldn't you prefer to watch it with your friends?" you ask him, tilting your head, positioning your thumbs on the fake tattoos on his cheekbones. almost as if you could cover their pupils and make him see less.

"wouldn't you prefer to watch it with me?" he genuinely responds, a somber look on his features. you think it's the first time he doesn't have a mocking grin on his lips. you ruffle the pink hair just above his left ear.

"maybe."

[sleepyangelkami]

INDISPOSED d.winchester

𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT - 2.1K

DEAN WINCHESTER X FEM!READER

𝜗𝜚 SUMMARY - you always seem to feel more than upset when you're sick. luckily for you, dean's always by your side when you fall ill, no matter the time.

𝜗𝜚 WARNINGS - sick!reader, illness symptoms, flu, dizziness, aches, reader's a little emotional, eating?, crying, mention of reader's lonely past, non-sexual nudity, kinda crybaby!reader, (1) use of y/n, slightly ooc dean, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

there's seemingly a tell tale sign of when you're feeling extra poorly, and that's the feeling of water beginning to pool in your waterline.

you couldn't help the dramatics that would take over your body, much less when you find dean sitting in your bedroom, assuring you that it was alright that he'd come home early from his hunt. "you shouldn't have to leave sam alone 'cause of me." you were a sniffling mess at your desk, for two reasons, one being that you were upset and the second being that your nose was so stuffed you could hardly breathe.

"sammy's fine to figure out the rest of this one, baby." dean was sitting on your bed, girly covers and throw pillows surrounding him. "and i don't have to do anything, i'm choosing to be here." dean's voice was all low and soft, the voice he used when you were upset which was seemingly more often than you'd thought.

you heard him shuffle across the room to where you sat on a brown, tattered chair.

he crouched down so he was eye level with you. "come on, sweetheart, you know you're just upset 'cause you feel all sick." his hand was gently tracing your thigh, soothing you from your sniffles. "think you just need to lay down, yeah?"

you mumbled something that he didn't quite catch with a nod.

he waited momentarily but you hadn't made any decision to move. "y/n." your eyes snapped up to meet his. "come lay down."

"okay." was your sheepish response.

dean didn't often call you by your name, he cast it away with all the lovely nicknames he'd picked out for you personally. nobody was baby but his car, until he'd met you. it came so easily, that soft way of loving.

when dean had you finally beneath the blankets, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, half-comforting and half-trying to gauge your temperature.

"where are you going?" your hand reached out for his lower arm.

dean turned down to look at you, a smile softly reaching his lips. "just getting your medication, baby, i'll be back, don't worry." and this time, the kiss pressed against your forehead was purely because he felt like it.

dean was well aware of your inability to take care of yourself. now, he was in no way calling you a nuisance, he just wished you cared for yourself as much as he did. with that being said, he did always love being able to care for you, it was a way that was so different than having to take care of sam his whole life. perhaps it was because this, he wasn't obliged to do, it wasn't expected of him.

he loved taking care of you but if anything were to happen to him... he'd like to know you could take care of yourself, too.

when dean returned to the bedroom, you were passed out asleep against the sheets. the man couldn't help but stop in his tracks.

you were a chatty person, awfully bubbly at times. and dean loved that about you, listening to you babble on about something and when he didn't catch a word he'd ask you to repeat what you said, it was always funny watching as the gears turned in your head, trying to remember.

sometimes you swore you talked so much that you tuned yourself out.

dean didn't though, he listened to every word that spilled from your lips.

but you were chatty with everyone you were close to. god forbid you ever went on a road trip with he and sam.

but with him you could be quiet at times, you still got shy and nervous around him which always made him coo, there was something sweet at the fact you could be so different behind closed doors, so yourself.

and seeing you like this, your lips drew into a pout and pink staining your ill cheeks, well it was rather nice, he thought.

he hated to be so evil as he was to wake you.

"sweetheart." the mere whisper of the name as his hands came down to soothe your arms was enough to have your eyelids peeling open. "sweetheart, c'mon, you gotta take your medicine."

a half-whine fell from your lips as he sat you up against the bed, sitting too so that you could lean yourself against him. dean was suddenly aware of how much hotter your body had gotten. he hadn't been gone long, just a trip to the kitchen to get you a glass of water and the medication he needed, though it'd taken him a while to find it. he had a bad habit of leaving things in strange places and forgetting about it.

he handed you off the capsules and then the glass of water.

"how're you feeling, honey?" the back of his palm pressed against your right cheek then slightly down your top, to your chest. he was like a concerned mother. "you're really hot."

"thanks." you quipped, leaning your hot forehead against his arm and sipping the water he'd given you.

he rolled his eyes at your remark, obviously taking your sickness more seriously than you were. "'m serious, you can't have blankets."

"dean!"

"no."

"dean, 'm cold." you nuzzled yourself further into dean's warm body, a dark grey hoodie coated his form along with black sweatpants, not his usual attire.

"you're not cold." he took your face between his two hands. "you're sick." pressing a kiss against the tip of your nose. you fought the words 'sap' to come from the back of your scratchy throat. "you can have the blankets but i have to take this off, then." you felt him gently pull at the shirt you'd stolen from him, clad on your body.

"deal." you mumbled, feeling a wave of dizziness hit you.

to make matters worse, you shook your head, thinking it would rid of the dizziness.

"hey, don't do that." he steadied your head before taking the glass out from your hands and placing it on the bedside dresser.

you felt his hands on your shirt, slowly pulling it from your frame. you helped by putting your arms in he air, allowing him to pull it off your body and toss it somewhere on the ground.

"want the tv on?" you nodded your head silently as the man rose from his place on the bed, reaching the tv stand where he picked up the remote and switched it on.

aimlessly, you uttered, "my legs hurt." while sliding back under the pretty covers.

he was busy fidgeting with the buttons on the remote. he never did know how to work your tv properly. "'s just cause your sick, it'll go away, baby."

you huffed at his response, laying your head on the pillows while you pulled the blanket close to you. you were cold but it was that sickly cold where you couldn't tell if it was really a chill or perhaps you were so warm that you felt cold, which didn't make a whole pile of sense.

when dean finally climbed back into the bed, your body practically collapsed on top of him.

he laid with an arm behind his neck and the other trailing shapes across your bare back, you lay with your head on his chest, listening to the low tv along with the thumping of his heart.

"are you okay?" you mumbled, voice slick with tiredness. the sickness was weird like that, hitting you suddenly, leaving just as immediately.

dean could have cooed at you. even while you were wrapped up in blankets, sick as a small hospital, you managed to ask him if he was okay.

It was another reason why he liked taking care of you. you took care of each other. "i'm okay."

another hushed mumble. "promise?"

"i promise." he answered honestly, fingers against your skin, moving up and down your back. "get some sleep, 'kay?"

a yawn passed your lips. "okay."

they said sleep was the best medicine, that it cured everything that was curable. well, you weren't sure anyone had said it to you but you just knew that it was said.

you had to beg to differ.

by dinnertime, your temperature was running hot.

earlier was the kind of sick that you could stomach, this was the kind of sick that had you flushed against the headboard of your bed, hands running down your face as you felt your head pound against the back of your eyes.

you could hear dean walk back into the room and you felt guilt soar through your veins.

you knew you were being... difficult to say the least. but you couldn't help it, hot tears gathering at your waterline all over again.

the mattress dipped as dean nudged your arm and you looked up at him with glossy eyes before looking down at the sandwich sitting on a plate in his hands.

"know you said you're not hungry but can you try eat some f'me? 's jam." his tone was all soft and his voice was all quiet. by now, he'd turned off the tv and closed the curtains, noticing how the light had been affecting your eyes. the only light on now was the little lamp sitting on your bedside table so you could actually see your surroundings.

you nodded hesitantly and took the sandwich from him.

dean noticed things about you like nobody else. he very early on found out that you loved jam sandwiches, you loved raspberry jam but you had an awful distaste for strawberry jam so from there on, he never bought strawberry jam on the offhand occurence that you may accidentally use it without looking at the label and get your jam sandwich ruined.

you were halfway through said sandwich when you placed it back on the plate, begging to tear up.

dean immediately took notice of it, taking the plate from you. "wh's wrong, baby? too much?"

you shook your head, sniffling. even the act of shaking your head had you clutching it soon after.

dean tutted, moving your hand away so he could soothe your forehead with a kiss and a gentle movement of his thumb. "poor girl." you heard him mutter under his breath, his brows strewn together in sympathy.

looking up at him, you had those glassy eyes that made his stomach feel almost as nauseous as yours. he didn't have to ask what was troubling you for you answered, anyway, to the silent question behind his eyes. "you're so nice to me."

his heart shattered a little.

it was no supirse that you didn't grow up with much comfort surrounding you and that only got worse as you began to get older. some days, you didn't think you'd ever get the comfort that your body ached for. and then dean winchester walked in, and his one and only goal was to take care of you, was to care for you, was to love you.

so you couldn't help tearing up a little from time to time when you think about the strawberry jam he gave up just for you.

"oh, baby. you're my sweet girl." he pulled you closer to him, putting your forehead against his chest so you could lean your weight on him. "'course 'm nice to you."

he helped you sit on his lap, fully discarding the place wherever his hands could push it to.

then his hands found your body, roaming it with this gentleness yet assertion. you'd put his shirt back on a while ago and discarded the blankets, which he was thankful for. he needed to break your temperature.

you weren't due medication for another two hours and you'd taken all the painkillers you could.

right now, all he could offer was himself.

and that was enough for you.

your arms tightened around his shoulders as you sniffled, tears breaking down your cheeks with a defeated sigh. "hate bein' sick." you uttered, sadness evident in your voice.

"i know, angel, i know." he gently rocked you in his lap, not enough to make your head dizzy but enough to bring you back to the moment, to remind you he was there.

and you stayed like that for seemingly a long time, melting into one another's embrace as if it were the most entertaining thing in the world.

you pressed your flush cheek against the hoodie covering his bare shoulder. the tears eventually dried up and all that was left was your frustrated sighs and mumbles.

"'s okay, sweetheart." he pressed a final kiss to your flushed face. "it'll pass."

and he was by your side as soon as it did.

main masterlist/dean's masterlist

[bonefall]

bones. bones they made moonpaw a schizophrenia and plurality stereotype. bones. bones help us

OH NO IS THAT WHY THERE'S 16 MESSAGES

I TURNED MY BACK FOR 5 MINUTES GREAT GOOGLY FUCKELING MOOGELY

I still have to finish reading Star (you have to forgive me for being a capital G Gamer who's been uber distracted) to gather together my final fair assessment, so I can start putting down the fragments for BB!ASC. But I WILL tell you this;

The whole Moonpaw Discourse from a couple of months ago really opened my eyes to just how pervasive intersexism and plurality stereotyping is, even in this space.

Not all of it is malice-- like many other cultural biases, people often just pick up negative stereotypes passively and don't realize they reflect poorly on real people. "Scary evil head voice" is one of them. Yes, intrusive thoughts exist (they are something I deal with), but it's about the snap, subconscious association between "voice in head" and "mental torment."

As the case and point; Look at how FAST the fandom conversation changed when the team first teased it. What was a fantastical, equal parts sincere love and horror exploration of shipping a cat with a magic pool morphed. Overnight, The Voice was an abusive thing, an expression of a dead baby who wanted to live, or a reincarnated monster, or another evil Ashfur-esque posession spirit.

Something bad, malicious, unwanted. By contrast, the voice of the moonpool was mostly portrayed as a supernatural yet good thing. Genuinely asking her for help.

(Part of me also ponders the religious angle of it. "Voices in my head" that come from God are generally much more socially acceptable than "Voices in my head" that come from the self. Regardless,)

So, as always, I Don't Rewrite Arcs Until They Are Done (I DRAU TAD, if you will), BUT... I know for certain that I will want to subvert this.

If Canon!Moonpaw must be a system, and we're all ready to buckle up and bunker down through how the Erins handle this one, then for BB!Moonpaw I'll try to do the same. But for my portrayal, I want to write her relationship with her headmate to be generally positive. Or at least more complicated and multifaceted.

One idea in particular I like is the thought that she absorbed a twin... but writing it as a chance the twin GETS to live, NOT a life denied. Death would have claimed them if they didn't become part of her. So, they love her-- of course they do. They're two souls with one heart.

The specifics will have to come with time. I need to see how her plurality impacts the plot, the overall story being told, plus wait to assess the criticisms that real systems and fusion chimeras in our fandom will have. But I can say with certainty that I would like to attempt my redux with the sad truth in mind that headmates in media are almost never approached as non-malicious. I'd like to do what I can to make a difference.

[cuppajj]

yknow while I don’t subscribe to golden cheese x burning spice, I think Spice having an unrequited, toxic crush on cheese is a fun and scary angle

(yap below, tw for possessive/obsessive themes)

Spice wouldn’t have taken her seriously before and during BY 5 and 6, seeing her as little more than a thief with squandered potential that he just wants to see changed. She’s not supposed to be weak, he’s supposed to be a legitimate adversary. He’s bored, and she’s supposed to excite him! It’s why he’s mad when she gets her ass handed to him, and why he’s elated when he learns she escaped her birdcage. That burning anticipation for a reunion continues throughout the story, with Spice hunting her down for their (what he assumes) final fight, not wanting to waste any more moments without her in his sight. Sure, he believes he’ll kill her then and there, and go on to destroy everything she holds dear. It’s par for the course for all the heroes he’s seen and slain. She’s more special, a little different, but the same. It’s even looking like that when he finally tracks down and battles her, seeing the lost queen desperate and hanging on by a thread.

But then she puts up a fight. She defies his expectations. She turns into something more powerful than he could ever fathom and Spice isn’t even mad, he’s not horrified, he’s ecstatic. The most ecstatic he’s likely ever been in centuries to millennia. Finally, finally, Spice has something new. After a long and tired quest to make his life more interesting, he has it. And then the temple collapses on him, and his new light disappears. It’s not the end of the road for him, though, no. He laughs under the rubble. It’s clear he’s not given up, and he wants to see her again. He will see her again. He must see her again.

Spice never stops thinking of the day Cheese came back from the edge of death and teased him with power that he’s desperate to get a taste of. He wanted her to be entertaining, and he almost doubted her, but she proved to be it and more. She surprised him. She amused him. She, just like his addiction to destruction, provided an avenue to cure his boredom. His imagination runs wild with ideas of what she could do and how she could entertain him, his bird, just like she did back then. He wants to lock her up again and watch her plow through his underlings again. He could play other dangerous games just to see how she’d do. And he wants another fight, he wants to see her on the edge, but then what? What other surprise could she give him? She could find a way for him, or else he’ll just force her to find a way for him. Maybe her new wings could be torn off too, and she’ll once again crawl and struggle until she rises up stronger than ever. Because she’s full of those surprises, isn’t she? They can do this forever. As immortals, they have all the time in the world for each other.

I like to think that Spice isn’t fully aware of his feelings for her, but he’s aware of how she makes him feel. The thought of her and her power makes his jam boil and chest flare with tingling heat. Remembering her limp in his clutch makes his dough tingle with fervor. Maybe he notices that his breath hitches in the smallest way when he thinks of how she’s somewhere out there, waiting for him. It’s something not even destruction could make him feel, no, the little bird is above that. She makes him feel this way and he likes it. He wants more. Spice wants to keep her, plain and simple. He had her in his grasp once, and she ran away with the promise of more. He wants more. He wants it. He wants her. And maybe, if he takes away everyone she’s ever known and loved, she’ll have no one but him. His little bird, his to entertain him forever.

Cheese is absolutely none the wiser to this, and she’ll be in for a hell of a ride when their paths cross once more.

[zepskies]

Just saw a TikTok where a woman says that her husband uses the dyson air wrap he brought for his wife more than her, why can I see Ben also acting like that 🤣

Lmfao oh, anon. That's really funny to imagine. 😂

I feel like Soldier Boy (Ben)'s been surrounded by hair stylists for most of his life, so might not be as well versed in managing his own hair. But he absolutely would be one to shave for himself, since that's more of a right of passage for men, especially one of his time.

However, when his S.O./girlfriend/wife comes into the picture, he'd probably start to get used to at least figuring out how to style his own hair at home... That's where the Dyson hairdryer comes in. 🤣

Imagine Soldier Boy (Ben) Using Your Hairdryer:

At first, Ben's intrigued and bewildered looking at this "stupid fucking thing," trying to figure out how it works with all these weird attachments.

Muttering to himself, "Looks like one of her dildos, for Christ's sake."

That thought might make him hesitate on actually trying it out, but when he finally manages to switch it on, it's like a lightbulb goes off above his head. Something inside him has just gotta try this thing.

He doesn't dare experiment while you're at home though. He's going to wait until you're out of the house, for at least a few hours.

He's going to try and fail a few times to actually do what he wants to do with his hair (a simple blow-dry). But eventually, "Ha!" He's done it.

You notice something different about him when you get home. You squint your eyes at him, looking at the gentle, downright shiny swoop of his hair to match his well-trimmed beard.

"Did you..." you trail off.

He raises his brows, feigning ignorance. "What?"

"...Never mind," you say, but you do tell him he looks handsome today.

Of course, his vain ass smirks in a way that says, I look handsome every damn day. (You roll your eyes in amusement.)

You do eventually catch him using your hairdryer. He's humming while he grooms himself in the bathroom, expertly maneuvering the various attachments as he sees fit.

It's the biggest struggle of your life to contain your shock (and laughter). You're torn between leaving him be to practice some healthy self-care...and your instinct to sneak a pic or two. Maybe even a quick video that you might just send to Annie and the rest of the boys later.

That's when Ben catches sight of you in the mirror. His look of concentration melts into a surly, frowning mixture of surprise and embarrassment. He switches off the hairdryer and lays it down on the counter. For a moment, he just stands there, knowing he's caught, bracing himself for your teasing.

Biting your lip, you go over to him and raise up on your toes, leaning one hand on his shoulder so you can sift your fingers through the soft brown strands of his hair.

You smile. "Looks good, babe. Good job."

Slowly, his lips form a familiar cocky smile.

"Damn right, it does."

AN: LOL I didn't intend for this to be a full-on headcanon/imagine, but that's basically what happened. 😂

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[jazeswhbhaven]

Successful Hunt in Heaven | React | Spoilers | Full Summary

Alright ya'll here I am.

And it's bad news from me.

I...did not particularly enjoy the story whatsoever.

TLDR if you don't wanna read my entire react: Don't waste your seals, just wait the three months

Now, some of ya'll may like it cause you're that big of a Satan stan, but he has a ship with my OC and a fankid and I'm STILL shaking my head at this. Like why ya'll do him like this, PB?

What I will do different for this react is, basically bullet summary as most of this card is what it is and then give ya'll some highlight screenshots that I found mildly amusing.

What goes down from the prologue(part 1):

MC is feeling cocky about being in Gabriel's body and almost fucks it up but saves themselves. Because of that cockiness though, they are literally just brain mush the entire story.

Things to note, that Satan was in restraints, those restraints were tight but not tight enough to where he could still speak and move enough. He was cussin' MC out ya'll like how he should cause he hates Gabriel.

I would want to say that this is a good revenge potential but it wasn't. Essentially MC didn't disclose that it was them who was disguised. The entire time Satan believed it was Gabriel who was touching him, jacking him off, and allowing lower angels to touch his dick. Even if it's just the tip.

MC even went as far as to punch him in the stomach? Punched him good until he was close to coming.

MC wanted to take off the chastity belt, which to me? Nah. You wouldn't even know how to use Gabriel's dick, let's not. Couldn't even properly cum or jack off.

Turns out though that Gabriel is not conscious this entire time. He has no idea what's happening.

Long story short, Satan is getting molested, punched, and traumatized in front of an audience thinking he had feelings for Gabriel and that's why he was aroused and reacting. I don't even feel like the specifics here because it was just that rushed and bland of writing for this. What happens in the end, mind you this is very last part of the story. Satan finally realizes it's MC. The spell breaks, they go home on his motorcycle, and he only went there because there was an angel with MC's hair color.

Ya'll. Satan is not that fucking dumb. Sorry not sorry, but like he can be a goof ball, but he'd never mistake an angel for MC in his entire life time. That wasn't Satan, that was his lost twin Sam or something.

What I expected:

I honestly thought this was going to be similar to Levi's story. Satan got captured due to being weakened by something, perhaps a new trap the angels set up, the restraints being so good he couldn't escape, and he and MC roleplaying in front of the angels and they get so lost in it that's what breaks the spell.

I wanted Satan to be like "MC looks like Gabriel, which pisses me the fuck off but I know it's them so I'm fucking horny as hell and I just want to feel good. This is how it would feel being teased and licked by an angel..."

But nope. Got MC being badly written, pretty much going in on Satan and playing into their own weird kink of pretending to be a high rank angel while punching, and jacking off Satan. There wasn't really any point to it half the time, if Satan hadn't of clocked them in the end, he would have never known it was them at all even though MC was being very sloppy on acting like how Gabriel would torture someone.

Good Parts:

Satan's expressions, and Satan cussing MC out thinking that they are Gabriel.

Satan questioning his attraction, he just can't place why "Gabriel's" touch is arousing him and he can't understand why this angel he hates so much looks so turned on by this moment.

Satan pretty much saying at the end that he's going to go in on MC's ass when they get home. Like I'm pretty sure all holes will be s o r e because MC insulted him, punched him, slapped him, choked him, made him cum forcefully like three times from both dick and horns.

Satan's dick looked pretty in the position he was in and I liked his little red underwear. Click here for the goodies~

The okay?? why?? parts:

MC allowing the angels to touch him. Gabriel for one if he was in character would never allow them to touch his "prey". Like? What and who was this for?

Satan not being able to tell who it was for the majority of the story. He's a King tbh, so he should have seen through the spell.

Satan being a dummy dum and getting himself kidnapped because he thought MC was captured by mistaking an ANGEL that looks nothing like them....

Being robbed of the Satan's potential in the roleplay scenario. Imagine if you will-

Satan knowing that it's MC, and he's trying so hard to make it believable that he doesn't like any of what's going on. At the same time, MC is doing an impersonation of Gabriel so well he can't help but get upset. Why is MC so good at this? Do they actually like Gabriel enough to mimic him? Fuck that. And fuck being kidnapped and in these restraints. He wants MC so badly. To pull off that charade and to get fucked so deep there's nothing but rage flowing from the both of them. And did he really find some attraction to the angel? FUCK THAT. What a stupid thought, so stupid it pisses him off too. Only MC can make him feel a series of rage and jealously swirled so deliciously he wants nothing but that in his veins.

MC's personality being even more unsavory than usual. If ya'll compared to how they act in Levi's torture card you'd swear they were just suddenly taking on some odd sadistic personality that has nothing to do with them nor Gabriel. Er'body was confused.

The audience, the angels, Satan, just...lol

Overall Rating:

4.5/10

Like...idk ya'll the fourth Satan card was just a let down. The other three he has were so much better. Even the adore mode was ass. I wanted to see him moving, cussin' and spitting. The VA put his entire foot in this and it doesn't match Satan's energy in secret club at all. Might as well just play it on SFW mode if you wanna hear his VA moan some fierce in your ear.

Nice homage to Hellraiser, could have used a cooler name imo but OH WELL. Pinhead would be shaking his head rn.

NOW don't get me wrong, some of ya'll may like this. And if you do, please don't @ me or come for me as it's not that serious. I was frankly bored ya'll. IMO It's not worth wasting your seals just wait for it to be available in the regular banner. My expectations for how Satan would react in this moment was downplayed. Even if I felt like shipping the angels with the kings, this just didn't hit.

Live photo of one of Ronove's cats disapproving.

OKAY Screenshot time~

He is legitimately so pissed off ya'll I was like OH

Yeah because you were just goin' off the rails....it's a good thing you at least had the angels hang in the back otherwise they would have clocked you MC.

I just like his face here. Mhm mhm.

Apparently ya'll that is the face of a sinner. Satan is a filthy filthy sweat covered sinner (laugh with me because lmao)

I'm crying. So it's just shrinking, growing, shrinking, growing, just being confused as fuck the poor wang noodle.

Oh Satan....he's so angry the poor bby. This would be hotter if he was irritated by something I truly did. Lol

At the same time, I feel these lines would be good for that roleplay...

I'm crying because Gabriel doesn't talk like this and yet Satan still hasn't caught on yet.

Now Satan, don't discredit virgins...some of them be knowin' a lot more than you think. (right now tho "MC/Gabe" is kissing him through the gag)

again. gimmie dis face. he does the eye roll orgasm so well.

here we go again with that fishy smell thing

Gabriel in his sub conscious rn

He can get away with calling us a bitch. I'm a bad bitch. A baddie. I'll insult you any day Satan just because. He'd call it foreplay.

LMAOOOOOOO

So that ends with the screenshots ya'll. You see how there wasn't really much to show because it's basically just what I said in the summary? But anyways, I did get a peek at a couple things that bumps the rating up for me to a 4.5....(note the changes)

Date Story/Chat Summary:

This time around Satan sustained more damage and the marks left behind are staying longer than usual. Sitri thinks this is a problem, Satan don't give a shit because MC gave them to him.

Satan getting jealous of MC requesting him to get healed because he thinks they learned it from another healing devil is cute.

He's very cuddly, we knew this but it's just nice to see this again.

MC and Satan have a talk about what happened up in Heaven and well it's also nice to see him be serious about his feelings and how MC should feel, etc. Mature Satan is mature.

He can smell when MC is horny btw. Idk this is so hot of him. But I also always had a HC that all devils could smell just about anything. When your cycle is coming, ovulation, other bodily things.

He likes the fact that MC was confident enough to insult him so boldly even though he pointed out they were in Gabriel's body.

He can't stand it that Paimon sews his decapitated teddy bear heads, the cotton is supposed to leak. At the same time he likes that Paimon adds sparkly beads for the eyes so it looks like they "glow"

His hand are so pretty with those sharp nails.

He has so many photos of his motorcycle he has two phones. He loves his bike that much to where he refers to it as his lover.

He doodles when he's bored at meetings.

That does it folks!!!! As per usual, if you've made it to the end thank you thank you to my dear moot/friends who help fuel my delusions and ramblings. Without ya'll my blog would just be...whelp a bunch of Astra in your face lmao (honestly tho she should be she's great)

Stay lovely, love up on your bois, -your lovely admin💖💕

[imaginaryf1shots]

School Vigilante Pt.2 | Oscar Piastri

WC: 4062

Oscar x Childhood!friend!reader

Summery:(REQUESTED) You and Oscar finally reconnect after years of not seeing each other, also School reunion

Warning: Fighting, cursing?

Part 1

Masterlist

Oscar Masterlist

Oscar hesitates, taking a small step your way. You smile and walk his way; your arms open for him, and he then doesn’t hesitate after that. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in. You laugh almost not believing it.

“Oh, my fucking god Oscar, it’s been so long.” You say and he just holds you tighter.

“Too long.” Oscar says, and he reluctantly let’s go of you. Your smile makes him smile. He remembers how hard it was to get you to genuinely smile in school, but here you are now all smiley. You both just stare at the other for a moment, taking in all the changes, and everything that stayed the same. Lando coughs on the side and the moment is broke, Oscar looks at his teammate and raises an eyebrow. “You know you brought a Red Bull athlete into our motorhome, right?”

Lando groans and throws his head back. “Don’t remind me.”

It was only after the Free Practices that you and Oscar are able to meet up. You had to spend the time in the Red Bull garage, you agreed to meet by the McLaren motorhome. And when Oscar comes out he sees you waiting for him there.

“You know it’s unbelievable that we haven’t share our phone numbers yet.” Oscar says coming up to you, he kept thinking about how he wouldn’t find you, how that was it, the logical part said that he now knows you’re friends with Lilly and could get your number from her. All that didn’t matter though because here you are, waiting for him.

“Is that your way of asking me for my number?” You tease him and a slight flush covers his cheeks, before he sheepishly nods. “Give me your phone then.”

You both exchange your phones and put in your numbers.

Oscar goes back to his hotel to change, and you meet him there later in one of the dinning rooms. You share a quick hug when you meet again before settling down and ordering.

“You know I told you, you’d make it to Formula 1.” You say with a grin, Oscar can’t help but smile.

“Yeah, was a bit rocky start but I still can’t believe it sometimes.” He tells you.

“I’m sure with the whole Alpine thing.” Oscar looks surprised that you knew about it. “Didn’t think I’d keep up with what you’re up to?”

“Not really.”

“Best rookie in F1 history after Lewis Hamilton?” You say feeling proud of him.

“Okay, okay. I get it.” Oscar then turns the conversation towards you. “What about you? signed by Red Bull, in TWO sports and being a world champion in one and coming up second in the other.”

You shrug and play with the napkin, feeling embarrassed yourself that the conversation turned to you. “Not as big of a deal as driving for Formula 1.”

“I beg to differ, not many cared about Formula 1 until a few years ago, didn’t make it any less amazing, same with you.” Oscar wouldn’t have you doubting how amazing you are.

The food comes and you talk about everything and anything all while eating. The conversations and the laughs flowed easily. As if time didn’t pass from the moment, you stopped talking all those years ago.

Sadly, the night had to come to an end, Oscar had FP3 and Quali the next day and he had to rest as much as possible.

“I have a week off, after Japan.” Oscar throws out there, he’s going to take the chance and just ask you out, like he should’ve all those years ago. “Are you free?”

“I am, what country are you going to be in?”

“The UK.”

“Hmm, I can make it.”

“So, you’ll go on a date with me.”

“Of course.” You’re both a smiling mess, happy to have finally taken another step in your relationship.

It wasn’t just one date; it was multiple dates. It was tricky to juggle both your schedules, two athletes in the middle of their seasons. But you best face time was on whenever you could. You were there in Hungary when Oscar got his first win, the relationship was still fresh so you both decided to keep it on the low. You got to celebrate with him after. There were lots of hugs and kisses involved, because no matter what anyone says, he deserved that win and no one could take it away from him.

You did meet his family in Singapore, they were all so welcoming and nice. His mum scolded you for putting yourself in danger all those years ago, even if you’re trained and it was to save her son. His sisters thought you’re so cool for it.

They looked you up online and saw videos of what you do.

“You know I tried DM-ed you when you got signed by McLaren.” You told him one day, you were at your house, chilling.

“Really?” Oscar frowned and took out his phone, opening his Instagram, he clicked on your name and then opened the messages and saw that you did in fact text him. “I didn’t see that at all.”

“It’s understandable.” You tell him, not feeling offended, you’ve seen how his DMs could look like. “But I was so proud of you, and I still am.”

“Thank you, you always believed I’d make it to Formula 1.” Oscar looked at you, his hand resting on your knee. You were siting on the small sofa, tilted to face each other, your leg was tucked under your butt, resting on his thigh, while the other was placed on the ground. Now Oscar was rubbing your knee, and you were close together, a whisper would be heard clearly between the two of you.

“That means, I’m always right.” You tease him and smile; Oscar returns the smile.

“I don’t mind you always being right.” Oscar said and you giggled. “You know, I had the biggest crush on you when we were in school.”

“Well, I also had the biggest crush on you.” You admit both of you blushing.

“I flet like you had no interest in me, whatsoever.” Oscar says frowning.

“You did have the biggest fan club in school, I didn’t want you thinking I was one of them.” You tell him the truth, now that you’re together, there was no shame in saying that. “But now, I’m your biggest fan.”

“I guess you are.” You don’t know when he got this close, but his face is so close to you, you could feel his breath on your skin. Oscar doesn’t hesitate to lean in and place his lips on yours. It’s not your first kiss, but he always leaves you breathless.

Red Bull invited you back to the paddock to film more content, since people loved you with Max in the first one. This time it would be a bigger production. They had you come in and get dressed in Assassin’s Creed-esk outfit. They sat up everything for the filming. You walked through the plan with the director of the video and what they had in mind.

“Can you do that?” Checo who was standing next to you with a Red bull in his hand asked.

You gave him a fake offended look. “I’ll manage.”

“No wires, right?” The director double checked, and you nodded with a confident smile.

“No wires.”

It was really simple, the scene began with you on top of the Red Bull Pit wall, they filmed you as if you’re looking around for something. Before you saw it, you flipped off the building and landed on your feet crouched down, before you ran to the fence climbed it easily. While holding the top of the fence you flipped yourself over it and climbed down, there were the two Red Bull cars waiting for you. They had  a few obstacles waiting for you, that you jumped over or under, the last one was a tall almost a wall, you were on top before you flipped twice in the air and landed in a super hero pose, right in between the cars. And looked up to the camera, the cape they had clipped to your face, threw enough shadow to show the bottom half of face, and you were smirking. The add ended with you in the car drinking Red Bull, with your cape off, and driving away in the car.

You off course didn’t drive the car, but that’s the power of editing.

It took a few takes for the director to take the shots that he wanted. It had to all be done fast, before the paddock got super busy. It was early on media day, but some teams were already present, and fans were filling up.

Oscar made it so he could come early and watch you. A camera crew from F1TV was present to film some behind the scenes footage. And Oscar was caught staring at you with a smile. He was even seen taking a video of you from his spot behind the barrier they made so no one would walk into the filming space.

Later on when he was doing his media duties, he was asked about it.

“You seemed interested in the parkour ad Red Bull was filming, we got a few shots of you filming it.” The interviewer stated. Now you and Oscar started your relationship with wanting it to be private, but as the time went on, you both wanted to be there to cheer each other on, and it’s been 9 months already since you started dating. You’ve had talks about going public with it, so Oscar just took it in his hands.

“Yeah, it’s always amazing to see y/n, doing her things in real life.” Oscar knew he’d be asked more about it. He said your name so casually that it was obvious that he knew you.

“Oh, you know her?” The interviewer asked.

“I would like to think so, we’re dating.” That got the attention of everyone.

“Then if you don’t mind me asking, how did you meet, it seems a bit random. Was it when she came to Red Bull a few months ago?”

“No, we met in school.” Oscar laughed remembering how you met. “She saved me from a beating.”

“A beating? Could you elaborate?”

“Yeah, I was walking back to school late one day and I was jumped by 2 drunk guys, suddenly this person comes out of nowhere, dressed in all black, had a black hoodie, hat and face mask even. She kicked them around, a few times, threw a few punches and had them down on the ground long enough for us to escape. I didn’t know who it was, only that it was a girl, since I saw her hair, but that was it. It was later by accident that I knew it was her.”

“And is that when you started dating?” The interviewer was so intrigued by this point.

“No, we stayed friends, and the next year she moved schools, and we lost contact.” Oscar says, this is probably the most they had him talking in an interview ever. “We got back in contact when she came to the Japan Grand Prix.”

“That’s a lovely story Oscar, we’re happy for you.”

“Thank you, I’m happy too.”

“Any reason as to why, my social media is blowing up with F1 followers?” You asked Oscar when you met him for lunch that day. “And I’m being called the coolest WAG ever?”

“I may have spilled that we are dating.” Oscar said apologetically.

“Thought so.” You wait for a moment, to make him feel a little pressure, before you smile. “Now, everyone knows you’re taken.”

“Me? Didn’t you see all those men watching you today?” Oscar tried to sound nonchalant, but it was clear he was feeling a bit jealous.

“Good thing I only like you then.” Oscar took your hand in his and smiled, happy, content.

Oscar won, he won fare and square, and no one could even say anything this time. He won and you were here to see it. Better yet, you were in Parc Ferma with his team. Oscar came running to his team and they hugged and pulled him. Oscar then took off his helmet and walked towards you. You threw your hands out waiting for him to walk in. Oscar didn’t wait, he pulled you as close as he could with the barrier between you, he pulled back just enough to plant a kiss to your lips. You help his cheek and smile though it.

“I’m so proud of you, baby.” You tell him not being able to stop smiling.

“Thank you.” With another kiss he was pulled way for weighing and interviews.

You’re on the bed in Oscar’s hotel room. When you get an email from your old school, you frown and open it. reading it you smile to yourself in amusement. Oscar is in the bathroom showering.

“You won’t believe what email, I just got.” You tell him and don’t wait for him to respond. “Our school just sent me an email for a reunion, I didn’t even graduate from there, and they sent me an email.”

“Yeah, but you were at the school for years.” Oscar says and you only then notice how he has the towel wrapped low on his waist. Your phone is placed beside you, and Oscar notices your eyes, he remembers the talk you had earlier to day and smirks. He turns around acting as if he’s looking for his clothes, giving you full view of his back and shoulders.

“Oscaaar.” You whine, knowing what he’s doing.

“What?” He asks nonchalant.

“You know what.” You get off the bed and wrap your arms around him, your front flushed to his back, hands on his abdomen, you’re not even sorry when you untuck his towel and it falls to the ground. Oscar sucks in a breath and turns around.

“So are we going?” You ask, still a little breathless, your head was on his shoulder, while his arms wrapped around your waist, skin on skin.

“What?” Oscar asks confused.

“To the reunion.”

“Oh, yeah, why not.”

There was an option for people to go early a couple days and have dinner together before the big thing. Since you and Oscar had that time off you decided to go, Oscar wanted to meet his friend from school anyways.

You shared the same hotel and everything. Since you and Oscar arrived and sat together, you had no idea how no one clocked that you’re together. You both weren’t big on PDA but a person can read the room. It didn’t bother you much anyways.

A long table was sat up from all of you to sit, Oscar saved the seat next to him for his friend, but in front of him sat Saddie. You both didn’t pay her any mind, since you didn’t have friends, Oscar included you in the conversation with his friend, before a girl sat next to you. She asked you your name and that got you both talking. You weren’t friends in school, but people change, and you found that if she was like that back in school you would’ve been friends, not that she was a bad person or anything, just some people don’t mesh well together.

“So Oscar how are you?” Saddie suddenly asks, she was obnoxiously loud, gaining the attention of everyone around her, she patted her mascara caked lashes a few times.

“I’m good.” He said not knowing why she’s talking to him.

“You’re not going to ask about how I’m doing?” She pouted and rested her chin on her hand. “I did save you.”

That got a few people talking, Oscar glanced at you, and you shook your head. You don’t mind that everyone still believes she saved Oscar.

“Uh, that was so long ago.” Oscar stated not really wanting to engage with her.

“Come on Oscar, she still saved you.” One guy a few seats down said, other chimed in.

“Doesn’t matter how long ago it was.”

“Who knows where you’d be if it weren’t for her.”

It was clear that Oscar wasn’t going to say anything. He isn’t one to fall victim to peer-pressure.

“Come on guys, leave him be, he’s got so much on his mind, now that he’s a formula 1 driver and all that.” Saddie lets out a fake giggle and BLINKED again.

When everyone ate and moved a bit around, you went to the restroom. Saddie walks up to Oscar swinging her hips left and right, not that Oscar noticed. She walks in on the conversation he was having and giggles. Oscar and two guys he was talking to all looked at her a little weirded out.

“So Oscar have you been thinking about me at all?” Saddie asked and placed her hand on his bicep. “Wow, you must really work out.”

“Uh.” Oscar was clearly uncomfortable, he took a step back, making her hand fall to her side.

“You don’t have to act all shy with me, after all we have history.” Saddie said and Oscar’s eyes went wide.

“H-history? We don’t!” Oscar hoped you didn’t hear what she said and believed her, but he couldn’t see you.

“I mean about me saving you.” She laughs a very fake and ‘seductive’ laugh. “You have a dirty mind, but I don’t care, means you’re thinking about me.”

Oscar looked at the two guys wanting them to save him, they all just laughed at his predicament. Just then his phone went off and he knew instantly who it was. He picked up the phone and answered walking away from the group.

“Hello.”

“Let’s go.”

“I’m heading out.” You stayed on the line but said nothing. Oscar found you by the car, he went straight to you and pulled you in for a hug. “God, you saved me again.”

“Looked like you needed it, and I’m tired of Saddie, she’s pissing me off.” You said and Oscar kissed your cheek before opening the door for you. “What did she want now anyways?” You asked once you were both in the car and settled.

“Just bullshit, said we had history and if I think about her.” Oscar didn’t really want to tell you, but he’s honest he doesn’t like the idea of you two hiding things from each other.

“I suddenly don’t like the idea of us coming.” You tell Oscar honestly, you’re irritated and you’re protective, you saw and can still see how uncomfortable this all made Oscar.

“We don’t have to go tomorrow.” Oscar tells you and puts his hand on your knee. You think it over for a second.

“No, we should go and show them we’re together and maybe finally say the truth.” You take his hand in yours and he takes it to his lips and places a kiss on the back on your hand.

“I already told the media, it’s about time they all know it too.”

The next day you and Oscar dress to impress, not anyone really but you love dressing up, and Oscar does what you want.

“You look beautiful.” Oscar said hugging you from behind, you leaned back into him. He kisses the side of your head. You’re looking at each other in the mirror.

“And you look handsome… wait! Let’s take a picture.” You get out of his arms long enough to get your phone, you’re back in his arms and you snap a few photos before you head out for the night.

Walking into the venue you’re holding hands, there’s no mistaking your relationship now. A few people turn their heads and talk, and you know they haven’t matured at all since they left school. You and Oscar smile at each other.

You walk up to one of the tables sat aside both placing the name tags for the other. You start mingling and some ask you about your relationship and you confirm that you are dating.

Saddie came “fashionably” late, strutting in as if she’s walking on a runway. She was pulled aside by one of her friends and was told about the ‘new’ development between you and Oscar. Her face turned red; she felt betrayed.

She walked towards you two, while you were laughing at a story Oscar told you.

“Oscar and y-y/n is it?” she clearly knew your name but acted as if she’s trying to remember it, and it was on your name tag as well.

“Yes, hi, we never talked before.” You replied with a sickly-sweet tone and a smile. “But I believe you’ve been very talkative with my boyfriend.”

“So, it’s true then, you’re dating.” She glares at you, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“Yes.” Oscar said and wrapped a hand around your waist, giving you a smile that you returned. You heard her scoff, making you both look at her.

“B-but how? And since when?” It seemed like Saddie couldn’t take a hint; her face got red with agitation.

“Hm, well we started talking in school after she saved me-“

“Saved you?! I saved you! why are you always denying it?” Saddie cuts Oscar off her voice rising, more heads turned to face your group, the talk began.

“Not true.” You told her, your gaze cold and unforgiving. “I helped him, not you.”

“YOU? You, goody two shoes? You were out of campus after hours?”

“Yes, me, and you’re a liar.” Your tone didn’t waver or fill with any emotions.

“You bitch!” Your hand on Oscar is what stopped him from moving or saying anything. “I know what happened that night, how would I know that. Huh?”

“We asked ourselves the same thing.” Oscar said. “Only explanation is you knew the guys who tried to attack me.”

“No!” She answered to fast, and her eyes went to the people around, it was clear she was lying. “I-I didn’t, I don’t. Stop lying.”

As a way of distraction, she tried to lunge for you, but you just side stepped her last second, and with her very high heels she tripped and fell.

“Unless you lost the ‘training’ you had all those years ago, you’re not the one that helped Oscar.” You say and crouch down beside her, she’s slowly getting up, there’s blood coming from her mouth, looks like she cut her lip and broke a tooth. “Also don’t you date touch or talk to my boyfriend again, if you know what’s good for you.”

She tried to lunge for you, but you were already up and walking away, once she stood up and tried to walk towards you, she crumbled again clutching her ankle. No one moved to help her, all her ‘friends’ are now ashamed of her for her involvement with the group responsible for attacking Oscar.

“Let’s go.” Oscar said and took your hand in his, you left the party, not sparing anyone another glance. Oscar didn’t let go of you, you walked around the campus, went to where you used to train, before Oscar took you outside. You weren’t really paying attention, just enjoying having Oscar with you, your hand in his, and the night breeze.

Oscar then stopped you looked up at him, only to find him already staring at you.

“This is it.”

“What?” You asked confused, you had no idea what he was talking about.

“This is where we first met.” Oscar says and you look around.

“It is.” Your eyes go back to Oscar, and you smile.

“You know, I believe out lives changed that day.” Oscar admits taking both of your hands in his. “You didn’t just save me, you changed me life, I’m thankful every day that I came late, and that everything went the way it did, because then I met you, I got to know you, and now I love you.”

“Oscar.” You felt emotional. “I love you too, and I’m also very thankful and grateful that I was out that day, meeting you has been the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

You couldn’t take it anymore and just hugged him, your arms around his neck and his around your waist. Your bodies flushed together, you only lean your heads back to share a kiss, right where you first met, and where everything began.

Main Taglist: @gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03 . @schniti-is-in-the-house . @lottalove4evelyn . @eywas-heir . @glow-ish . @lilypat . @directioner5life . @a-beaverhausen

[keeira2]

I’LL ALWAYS LOVE YOU

stalkerexbf!rafe x fem!reader

masterlist

summary: life takes a weird turn when your introduced with an anonymous stalker. but everything changes when he breaks into your house and your met with him face to face..

warnings: crazy!rafe, pantie stealing?, creepy!rafe, rafe threatens you with a gun, sort of cnc, heavy on the smut, CNC, spit kink, degrading kink, tied up reader, soft!rafe at the end? MDNI 18+!! if i miss any pls lmk

a/n: this is kinda long whoops, not rlly proof read so ignore any mistakes pls. it’s also rlly kinky js giving everyone a heads up. hope you guys like it :3

after another long shift at the pelican yacht club, you’re finally home. throwing your keys onto the kitchen bench nd undress for ur shower. which was what you desperately needed after serving snobby kooks for the past six hours. you let the hot water fall down your body. scrubbing ur scalp and body clean of any grime from the day.

wrapped in ur towel, you walk to ur bedroom to get dressed. grabbing a baggy tee nd a lacy thong. as ur going thru ur lingerie drawer, you notice ur favourite pair of black panties missing? which was weird because you remember folding them nd placing them in there the night before.

you brush past it, getting dressed nd collapsing onto the bed to watch murder documentaries. after less than half the episode, you find urself drifting into a deep sleep.

days, even weeks go by, your daily routine unphased. another closing shift at work, you grab ur belongings nd start to walk home. usually you’d catch the bus, but when you close it’s already 10pm nd there aren’t any buses running this late to the cut. so you walk home, wrapped in ur fur hoodie trying to ignore the cold air.

it’s only a 10 minute walk to get home, which has never been a problem especially bc you know most ppl in the cut. but this time you feel a burning gaze shooting right thru you.

you shiver, partly because it’s cold but mostly bc you have an overbearing feeling that ur being watched. you hear a rustling in the bushes behind you, which could’ve been the wind but you were NOT taking any chances. so you start to run, not looking back. you don’t stop until you get home, quickly unlocking the door nd slamming it closed behind you.

you make sure to lock all the doors and windows before hopping in the shower, which helped you shake the creepy feeling off of you. you heat up some popcorn nd snuggle under your covers.

ur trying to pick a movie to watch, occasionally leaning over to grab a handful of popcorn you hear your phone ‘ding!’. lazily reaching over to grab and check it, you freeze when ur gaze lands on the message.

unknown number: you don’t need to run away from me, doll. was js making sure you got home safe ;)

someone was following you. oh my god. you sat still for a moment, still in shock. how did they get your number? how long have they been following you? you basically led them to your home, do they know where you live now?

millions of thoughts racing through ur head, you couldn’t help but text back, your hands shaking over the letters.

you: who are you???? please leave me alone.

before you can even shut ur phone off, another ‘ding!’ catches your attention like he was waiting for your response.

unknown number: you’ll find out who i am soon enough. i’m just looking after you, don’t be scared, doll.

what does he mean i’ll found out soon enough? is he gonna come after me? did he follow me home? you’re literally shaking in fear now, ur mind racing with different possibilities.

you: please. leave me alone.

you see he’s typing, but stops. he doesn’t text you for the rest of the night, maybe he listened and he’s actually gonna leave you alone. you were just hoping that maybe it was a prank from ur friends. anything except the fact that you might actually have a stalker.

you struggle to fall asleep that night. tossing and turning in your bed, desperately trying to calm yourself. ‘the doors are locked, nobody can get in. ur okay’ you reassure yourself.

a few days go by and you start to notice more panties going missing. what the fuck? you’re left with only a few pairs now, and there’s no way you’ve just misplaced them. the realisation dawns on you. what if he’s been here. has he been in ur house??

you try calming yourself down. ensuring every window nd door is locked. sitting back down ur cozy bed, u slip under the covers and bring ur knees up to your chest in a fetal position. your breathing is heavy while u hold ur head in ur hands. you quietly sob. ur so scared. you’ve only been living by yourself for 6 months and you were scared then. why me??

you didn’t even realise how much time had gone by or when you’d gotten tired. but you rub your closed eyes, letting out a big yawn and stretching your arms out. but when you finally open them, you freeze.

a man is standing in ur room, looking right at you. you can’t muster up the courage to say anything so you just stare back completely still, unable to see his face.

“hey doll, you miss me?” a familiar voice asks, stepping closer.

your mouth falls agape. no. no. no. no. no. this cannot be happening. you’d ended things with him MONTHS ago after he started acting out, getting angry all the time, threatening to hurt you and being literally insane. you blink ur tears away, one managing to roll down ur cheek.

“r-rafe..?” you whisper, if the house wasn’t completely silent he wouldn’t have been able to hear you.

“you’re so pretty when ur sleeping, baby.” taking a step closer to you now. you try to move backwards but ur back already pressed against the bed frame. u see him reach behind him, pulling what looks like a gun out of his back pocket.

“n-no, no please.. what are you doing?” you ask shakily, trying to back away further away from him to the other side of the bed.

he sighs, “i don’t wanna have to use this, doll,” shaking the gun in his hand to refer to it,” just listen to what i say and don’t give me a reason to hurt you, alright?”

you tremble with fear, “please, rafe, please leave.. i wont tell anyone. just please” you plead with him. praying that he’ll just go and never come back, even tho you know deep down that’s not gonna happen.

“m’sorry, no can do,” taking another step foward until he’s standing over you, ”missed you so much, can’t leave now.”

his words made your heart flutter, you couldn’t help it. you couldn’t deny the way ur thighs clenched together at the thought of him putting in all this effort just to see you. why are you like this oh my god?? no. u want him to leave. you need him to leave.

after a second of hesitation you finally ask “..what do you want, rafe?” wiping a tear from ur face.

he sits down across from you on the bed, holding the gun up to face you. ‘he’s only doing this to scare you.. he would never actually hurt you’ you try convincing yourself.

“aw come on, don’t be like that, angel” his hand grazing ur knee, before placing his large hand inbetween them to gently pull ur legs apart, “i bet ur so wet right now, so desperate f’me.” he groans nd u notice the massive buldge in his jeans.

u shake ur head, “no, rafe,” you sob again, “please go.” he brings the hand that’s holding the gun to your face, pushing the hair out of ur face with it, “sh sh, it’s okay.. ur okay. save the tears for when i’m done with you, alright?”

you don’t know if that’s reassurance or a threat but either way you feel your pussy getting wetter, his hand travelling lower until its resting on ur plush thigh.

“i need you to stay still, baby, or ur gonna get hurt.” he warns sternly before standing up and reaching for his back pocket again, pulling out a thick rope. u already know how this is gonna go.

he snatches both ur hands nd goes to tie them to the headboard. u squirm nd use ur trembling body to try and push him off, he doesn’t budge until u slap his face. his face turning back to you slowly, a hand against his jaw with a smirk.

“what did i just say? hm? ur gonna regret that, doll, makin me do things i rlly didn’t wanna do.” with a harsh grip he snatches ur wrists again, ur body squirming trying to release your arms but to no avail. when ur wrists are tied down, you whince, the pressure making you sore.

he reaches down to grip ur face and pulls you in to a desperate, hungry kiss. he hovers over you, pulling ur legs apart with his body. his tongue invading your mouth. as much as you hated this, you couldn’t help but kiss him back.

when he finally pulls away he wastes no time in ripping off ur shirt, “no bra, hm? knew you wanted this.” he groans and attaches his lips to ur tits, licking and sucking at ur nipples causing you to let out a series of faint moans.

rafe pulls away, snatching ur knees to spread your legs apart wide. eyeing you down, admiring the wet patch he’s created through ur panties. he lays on his stomach infront of you, giving ur thighs open mouth kisses.

“r-rafe, please..hmmpf” u whine. u don’t know if ur asking him to stop or if u want him to do more. ur so ashamed.

“please what, doll? use ur words cmon.” he teases ur swollen clit with his thumb, over the fabric of ur soaked panties.

when u don’t respond, his big hand slaps your pussy, causing you to let out a scream. “i said use ur fucking words” he raises his voice at you.

“p-please, eat me out,” u whimper when he rubs circles over ur clit, “need you.” that was enough to please him. so he tugs ur panties off, sliding them off ur legs and his tongue was licking a long stripe thru ur folds. “u taste so good, baby” he mumbles into you. without any warning, he inserts two fingers and thrusts mercilessly, now sucking ur puffy clit.

you let out a scream, or a moan, you didn’t know what it was but he makes you feel so so good. almost made you forget how he’s been breaking into your house and stalking you.

u tug to wrap your hands in his hair but remember ur wrists are tightly bound. he’s holding u down with one hand and fucking you with the other.

you feel yourself getting close, clenching around his fingers. u start to squirm, lifting your hips so he can get deeper but he detaches his mouth from ur clit and pulls out his drenched fingers.

“..why’d you stop?” you whimper, desperate for your release.

“youll cum when i say you can.” your eyes pleading with him but he shakes his head. “now your gonna take my cock like the filthy slut you are.” reaching for his belt nd yanking his jeans nd boxers off.

he starts teasing your folds with his cock, making you squirm even more. you know this is wrong. he’s insane. but you can’t help but enjoy his torment.

suddenly he roughly thrusts into you, without letting you adjust, pounding into you ruthlessly. the sounds of your skins clapping, his heavy grunts and your screams echo the room.

your legs unconsciously wrap around his waist. his hands grip onto your hips tightly, surely leaving bruises for you in the morning. “r-rafe, fuck, please sto-“ you screech when he goes in deeper. “fucking take it, quit complaining.” he yells before taking your tit in one hand, teasing your nipple inbetween his fingers.

he knew your body so well. you hated it. if this was anybody else you wouldn’t have been enjoying it like you are now. but it’s rafe. even when he was acting crazy in your relationship, he always made sure you knew how much he loved and cared for you. how he would do anything for you.

you can feel your release finally coming. you clench around his cock, silently begging he’ll let you cum. but to no avail, he pulls out. he unwraps your legs and sits over your chest. “open.” when you don’t comply he grabs your jaw and sticks his thumb into your mouth, “i said fucking open.” the second your lips start to part, he pushes his dick into your mouth, thrusting relentlessly making you gag around him. tears start to well in your eyes and when you try to pull your head away he latches his hand in your hair to stop you from moving. finally releasing you when you feel his cock twitch, followed by a hot flow of cum invading your throat.

he grabs onto your jaw again, giving you three light slaps to you cheek and spits in your mouth. “fucking swallow it,” hesitantly you do, opening your mouth back up and sticking out your tounge to show him.

he smirks, content with the sight in front of him. your hair disheveled, hot tears covering your cheeks and that look in your eyes, which you always had when you were around him. his sweet angel. he loved ruining you.

“rafey.. can i cum now, please? i’ve been a good girl.” you beg. the nickname making him flustered, which fortunately for him you don’t notice in the dark room.

“d’you think you deserve it?” he asks teasing to which you nod eagerly.

“please.” all your self respect and pride out the window now because you were so cockdrunk on ur psycho ex boyfriend you couldn’t think properly.

he shuffles back, spreading your legs apart again and moves his hand towards where you need him most. he begins toying with ur swollen clit before thrusting back into you. this time slower but just as deep.

you don’t hold back your moans, he makes you feel so good. but your cockdrunk haze interrupted when he started to speak again. “tell me you love me.” he groans, his eyes locking on yours. his thrusts hitting deeper, picking up the pace.

you were immediately taken aback. ofcourse you loved him, it’s rafe. but he’s crazy, god, he broke into your house and threatened you with a gun. he noticed your hesitation and starting rubbing your clit, almost sending you over the edge.

“y-yes, fuck, rafe i love you! hmmpf” you scream, your pussy clenching around him once again, his hand tightly gripping your throat. his thrusts brutal, pounding into you. you tug at the ropes bouncing your wrists when you feel pure bliss, your mind hazed and your pussy aching. his thrusts not stopping to ride out your high. you let out a loud, shaky moan/scream. the neighbours probably thought you were getting murdered. your orgasm leaves you limp, only ur legs shaking when he pulls out, yanking his boxers and pants back up.

what you’ve just done dawns over you. you’re so ashamed. you actually begged him to keep going. your tears reappear, trying to be as quiet as possible so rafe doesn’t notice and yell at you again. you wanted to kick him out, call the police and never see him again. the other part of you wanted him to hold you in his arms while you cry, and beg him never to leave your side. but right now, rafe decides for you.

he leans over to give you a sweet peck on the lips and reaches for your bound wrists. “are you gonna be good?” he whispers, eyes scanning your face for any lies. “i’ll be good, rafe. promise.” and you meant it, even tho you were choking back sobs of humiliation, you still meant it.

he untied the rope, your wrists aching and bruises already appearing. he leaves pecks all over the markings, which is his way of saying he’s sorry for hurting you. “i love you so much, y/n” he confesses, straightening back up to face you again. without even thinking, you lean forward, taking his jaw in your hands and you kiss him.

the kiss is beautiful, it wasn’t rushed or heated. it was slow and meaningful. when you finally pull away, you avoid his gaze. “i love you, rafey,” his eyes widen, he didn’t think you’d actually say it back. he knew you said it before, not because you meant it but because he basically forced you. but you did mean it. you never had stopped loving him, you were just tired of his lack of sanity.

he stands up and walks out of your room, leaving you on the bed alone without saying a word. a minute goes by, you felt so dirty and disgusting now. but before any worse thoughts could swarm your head, you hear footsteps heading towards your room. rafe is back, and hes holding a towel. oh, how you missed him.

he taps your thigh, signalling you to spread your legs and cleans up the mess you’d both made. discarding the towel, he crawls onto your bed and slides under the covers with you. “i’m really sorry, baby. i wasn’t trying to scare you. i just- i didn’t know what else to do.” his excuse was sloppy (and insane) but you still forgave him. you knew he was messed up, but so were you. in his head, he was just trying to show you how much he loved you, even tho to any normal person it’s a really creepy way to get someone back, you understood enough to let him hold you.

his arms wrapped around your waist, ur head snuggled in the warmth of his neck. “i know, rafe.. i’ll always love you.” you whispered before drifting to a heavy sleep in the comfort of his arms.

[maddiedott]

It Will Come Back

Pairing: Logan Howlett x GN! Reader

Warnings: Very rushed ending, Logan through various different movies/timelines, gn! reader, fluff and tad bit of angst, sexual implications but not explicit, alcohol consumption (let me know if i missed anything)

Hi! Hope everyone is having a great day! I've been struggling with some Wolverine hyperfixation and Deadpool Wolverine being released on Disney+ like 2 days ago didn't help much. So, I decided I would finally post this fic thats been in my drafts for like a month now? It's heavily inspired by Hozier's 'It Will Come Back', so please enjoy!

Time was always a fickle thing for someone who could never age, who had lived centuries and watch as it affected everyone you loved and yet hasn’t graced you with the same courtesy, a long stretch that dipped into the horizon and melted against the inevitable void. There were times when you yearned for the ice cold grip of death, the blissful eternal sleep that most try to run away from, to prevent. But that was before you had met him, before he whispered life back into your hollow bones.

It was a fleeting encounter, words exchanged in a fraction of a second. You couldn’t recall how long this cat and mouse game played out, but you eagerly waited for the next moment you would see him, even if just for a glimpse. It started out slow, the long pull and stretch of time that came with his absence.

The first time you had met was in 1932, a time where many longed for the cold, dark Earth to envelop them so they wouldn’t have to suffer much longer. The interaction was brief, a swift knock to the shoulder as you passed down the street. He grumbled an apology, his voice rough and with an accent that didn’t quite stick in your head enough to name. There was a hesitation in his step as his gaze met yours, more of intrigue than anything else. He stopped completely as you called out, brows furrowed in annoyance. He turned towards you, apology leaving his lips. He introduced himself as James Howlett. An odd last name. You gave your name in kind with a smile.

He looked exhausted, although there wasn’t anyone in This Depression that wasn’t. So, despite your better judgment, you offered him a place to stay and some lukewarm meals to hold him over until he could find work. You never were much of a cook, even now you struggle to prepare much of anything, but it’s not without lack of trying.The rundown country home had been your home for a little before the dust bowl and the drought begun since you had moved into it, trying to busy your lonely mind with farm work. You had set the loft in the barn on your sparse and dusty property for him, giving him plenty of blankets and cloth that would make for a functional and maybe comfortable bed. He mentioned a brother who you had seen only briefly every now and again entering the barn before leaving a few minutes later, always snarling. And even though your instinct was shouting at you to question it, you never did.

There was always an objection to the kindness you showed him when you would bring meals, to leave him to the land as that’s all he knew- how he sleeps, to not be kind. But each time he only came back. It was routine until you found a small note etched in charcoal with the words ‘I come back’. And just like that he had vanished as if he had never existed, disappearing and leaving a strange ache in your chest.

You couldn’t tell when the next time we met was as the years turned to decades. People like you had gained a name; ‘mutants’ and they were becoming more and more common around the world. As narcissistic as it sounded, you thought you had been the only one, cursed to roam the Earth for eternity while watching everyone grow old and die around you. You hadn’t expected to run into him, not after 3 decades, and you surely did not expect for him to look just as the day that you last saw him, nor to recognize you.

You sat beside him on the barstool, not speaking until a whisper of your name fell from his lips as if he had figured out the answer to all of the prayers he’d whispered in the dead of the night to an unseen God.. A smile graced your face before you could stop it, turning in the seat to give him your undivided attention.

“You shouldn’t smile at me like that, you know better.” He gruffly spoke.

You didn’t realize how easy it would be to miss someone’s voice until you heard his. It was as if his words were a melody and you had been searching for the right tune all your life. Just the sound of his voice had been enough to cure you of any ailments for the day. You continued to show him the kindness he so desperately wanted to refuse. To offer him a hand and a soul, one that he feels less deserving of. This time was shorter than the last.

A few drinks, some chatting, walking, and a stumbling mess of feverish, open-mouthed kisses as we reached your apartment and found your way to the couch, the floor, and then the bed. He had ruined you, that much you knew from the very first press of his lips against yours, from the whisper of your name in the bar just a few blocks away, or perhaps it was the very first time his shoulder hit yours.

Towards the end of your euphoric highs, you had noticed the extension of bones from between his knuckles as they dug into your mattress and utterly destroying it. It led to a pensive conversation that eased as you revealed your own curse, your lack of morality. He showed off his claws, explaining his own hyper senses and regenerative properties. You admired the bone that extended from the divots between his knuckles, fingers ghosting over the claws. The night morphed into day as you both recounted stories, although you could tell his were vague and lacking details, keeping them for the darker parts of his mind away from the light.

You hadn’t realized him to be an army man before that night, but sure enough he was being shipped out that next day. So the reunion was cut painfully short and you had to wish him farewell from the comfort of your apartment’s sheets, tangled and damp with cold sweat from the previous night.

It was the middle of winter the next time. You moved from place to place as to not raise suspicion on why one of the neighbors never aged, stuck in a younger body than that hasn’t changed in the last few years of where you stayed. You could never forget James, he was always a lingering thought, a distant wish to run into him once again. As the seasons transitioned from to another, that wish slowly fizzled out.

It burned brighter one particular night, when there was a strange howling outside your door. There had been wolves hanging around, but they sounded nothing like this. So, with little fear to your well being, you opened the door.

He looked different, scruffier and wild. There was a metal contraption on his head that wired down to two boxes on either side of hips. The machinery and mechanism was complex as if he were some part of someone’s cruel experiment. There was a snarl sound emanating from his throat, sitting on his haunches. But his state of undress in the dead of winter was not what caught your eye but the sharp metallic ‘shik’ as metal drew from the divots where bone once did. A sharp gasp left your lips as he slowly stood to his full height, eyes locked and unwavering. He sniffed the air like an animal before taking a step forward, his instincts fueling his muddled mind, the movement subconscious.

He had found his way back, but at what cost? What had this poor man endured to become this way? This feral?

As he took a step forward you mirrored in a step backwards, crossing the threshold of your home and he simply followed. His wild eyes darted from corner to corner, sniffing once more and then taking a deep inhale. He visibly eased up, although still had the behavior of a cornered animal. You let him into the warmth of your home, let him wander and orient himself with his surroundings despite your conscious telling you not to.

It took multiple hours of gentle coaxing and many more attempts of snapping from him until you managed to get him to sit and settle down enough to remove the headpiece and electroids from his body, having them fall to the floor with a thud onto the carpeted floor. He just stared, even a whisper of his name had his head cocked to the side like an animal in a state of confusion.

There was dried blood under his nails, hair greasy and filled with mud and- you didn’t think you wanted to know what else it contained. Bathing and feeding him was no easy feat, metal meeting flesh and red decorating the floor; but, you eventually got it done and even had him dressed in sweatpants that were a bit too tight and the cuffs raised to his mid calf. It would have been comical if he wasn’t so out of his wits.

The next few weeks were awkward, each time you tried to leave he would grab your arm and tighten his hold in an attempt to get you to stay, but you needed food and he needed clothes that actually fit him. He still didn’t speak, just low huffs and grunts. When he finally did speak, it was low and broken as if he had forgotten how.

“Lo… gan…”

The words confused you. Why was he saying a stranger’s name?

“Is he the one that did this to you?” You ask softly, swiftly sitting beside him on the couch. You received a shake of his head in return and another mutter of the man’s name.

“I don’t understand.”

He ruffled into his pocket until a small clink of metal emerged and he withdrew dog tags with the name ‘Logan Howlett’ engraved. It was his last name, but the first one made no sense. On the opposite side it read ‘The Wolverine’. Was that his army name? You had heard of getting nicknames when in service but had no real idea about it.

“You’re Logan?” You clarify, eyes moving from the metal within his palm to his own eyes, still wild but tamed for now.

You received a nod from that, signifying you were correct in your assumption. That would make sense why he had never acknowledged me when you had called him James. So, from then on you referred to him as Logan.

You try not to think about the time during which you helped bring him back to a state of humanity, finding out his memories were scattered and he held no recognition in his eyes other than finding the smell of your home, of you, familiar. You cared for him, allowed him a place to stay and took him with you until he suggested a RV bed for an old truck. With the stash of cash you had dwindling, not expecting to care for another person, you hastily agreed. From there you traveled. City to city, province to province, finding cage fighting bars for cash while trying to bring peace to Logan’s mind and retrieve the memories lost or stolen from him.

Finding Rogue was a blessing, even more so when Scott and Ororo had rescued you both. You had been given a home and a lead on Logan’s missing memory and a chance for him to be a part of a team. So, when he was given information on a location that might jog his memory and insisted he would go alone, giving you his dog tags as a promise, you held some worry of course, but knew that he will come back.

[johnnylandslide]

WoL Magic Cards Tutorial!

I'd made a custom Magic: the Gathering card of Johnny recently, and shared it in the Seafloor discord, and since there was a lot of interest in the concept I figured a tutorial might be nice so we have something to do while we wait for plugins to come back. Here goes!

Download CardConjurer This is the tool I use to make custom cards. It's just a web app developed by a college student; he got DMCA'd by WOTC so it's not hosted on the internet anymore, but you can still run it locally.

Just unzip the contents somewhere, and then run launcher.exe when you're ready. It should open up the app in a browser tab.

2. Navigate to the Card Creator

3. Pick out a Frame

Enter this search box on the right. We're going to be using the Nickname ("Godzilla") frames. These give us a small subtitle box below the card name that indicates what the Magic card's actual name is.

If you want to create a custom card instead, use the Borderless frames.

In the menu below, you should see the different colors of the borderless frames. You'll have to add three of these elements to the card: the text box, the card name, and the power/toughness box. Do them in that order, by clicking each element and then Add Frame to Card. If your card is legendary (or if you feel like it), use the Crown option rather than just Title.

You'll have to choose the correct color. If your chosen card is monocolor or >=3 colors, this is very easy since you can just choose that color or gold, but for two-color cards the process is slightly more involved. First, add the color that goes on the left using the Add Frame to Card button, and then add the right color using the Add Frame to Card (Right Half) button. Use the gold power/toughness box.

If any of the card elements get out of order, you can reorder them using the layers controls at the bottom of the page.

4. Import the card text

Navigate to the Import/Save tab, and type in the name of the real card you're putting your OC over. Select the specific version of it using the dropdown afterwards.

(For some reason, Firefox suggests completing this field with my credit card information. I think it knows more about Magic than it's letting on.)

After the card is imported, navigate back to the Frame tab, and click Load Frame Version. This will force the text on the card to fit into the frame set that's currently selected in the bar on the right, which should still be the Nickname ("Godzilla") from earlier.

We should have something closely resembling the real card in the editor, now.

5. Make it yours!

First off, go to the Art tab, and upload your image. Once it shows up, you can adjust it by clicking the actual card in the editor. Clicking and dragging pans it around, shift+clicking scales, and ctrl+click rotates.

Next, pop over to the Set Symbol tab and remove it, since this is your own card and isn't from a Magic set.

And now, go over to the Text tab to finish this off! Start by entering your card name into the Nickname tab.

If your chosen card name is too long and ends up clipping the mana cost, you can reduce the width of the text box with the Edit Bounds menu until it fits.

Next, go to Rules Text to update the name if the card refers to itself. I changed all instances of "Vadrik" to "Johnny". Since this card is really just to look at and not to play with, I also renamed the Day/Night mechanic to fit the Black Mage flavor even better. Feel free to get creative!

You can use {flavor} to add flavor text as well. I added the {lns} commands after some words to add line breaks to make the text blocks look better.

You can also edit the typeline in the Type tab, if the creature type doesn't match your WoL. Johnny is already a Human Wizard though, so I didn't have to do that. Technically this would be a mechanical change of the card, but since these aren't real cards anyway I think it's a valid concession to make. Just don't go abusing it if you actually end up printing these out LOL

6. Download the card image

Finally, head back over to Import/Save, scroll all the way to the bottom, and hit Download you card.

And you're done! There's obviously a lot more that's possible with CardConjurer, and tons of avenues for creativity. If you end up following this tutorial, or creating any other FFXIV-related MTG cards, I would really love to see them!

[squiddy-god]

Lmao last time I asked for Avenpaz but this is x reader so what about Aventurine x reader? Hehe thank you :3 (Desperate for some Aventurine stuff 🥰)

Yes you may, i'm going to do general hcs for this because thats what im feeling right now teehee- on a side note, aventurine but its the scene with hua cheng and xie lian with the dice rolling- there was just,,,so much tension in that scene please  

♡requests open♡

Cw : gn!reader, mentions of trauma and spoilers for his story and a bit of penacony, fluff. Both established and un established relationship hcs, a little bit of angst 

Ok so pre relationship i think that aventurine is actually quick to catch feelings but slow to realize them

Like off the bat he can tell how he feels in about someone, like or dislike, trust or not trust 

What is slow to build is how deep that runs, both his romantic feelings and his trust are gained slowly but eventually snowball and that is when he finally either realizes or admits it.

Something i never got in general is when people talk about like how {character} wouldn't trust you until xxx into relationship etc

But the thing is like, are y'all dating people you dont trust? Because especially as someone who is depressed/traumatized, I fully would have to trust someone to get into a relationship, and that trust does not reset to 0 because we got together like??- i promise i will tie this in trust me 

The other slight problem with aventurine pre relationship is that after he realizes/admits his feelings to himself he is taking that to his grave. He will casually flirt or maybe drop little hints, but he is content to never speak these feelings out loud to you, 

Half of this is a fear of forming intimate connections that he knows he's ultimately powerless to protect, he fears rejection and loss when it truly matters and this prevents him from ever really bringing himself to pursue you. The other half is a subconscious self sabotaging hatred. Despite his fronting he is an insecure and traumatized man who's become jaded by the cosmos. While he at this point would trust you implicitly he cant help the feeling that you won't, dont, and couldn't possibly like him and return his feelings. 

Reasonably he knows that he is an attractive man, a man with both wealth,power, and status, and yet he feels that you won't possibly want him. His self loathing even in his subconscious holds him back, giving a false sense of apathy towards your relationship status that outweighs the jealousy he feels. In truth the jealousy only serves to prove his point on how you don't return his feelings

There are scenarios that I think he would confess first if you don't beat him to the punch. 

The first is said jokingly, and yet there is not that sharp witted teasing edge or bite to his words, unexpectedly raw and genuine when he poses a simple “what if” question 

The second involves many different factors, maybe you catch him on a good day, maybe he sees the way you seem to look at him and in your eyes is the reflection of his own affections. Maybe you catch him on a bad day, and in his pit of despair he decides that it is at least worth the risk to gamble.

These are the moments he confesses to you, bated breath waiting for the other shoe to drop and for you to lash out with laughter or anger but he is delighted when you return his feelings

Ok ok enough angst-

This man is a shameless flirt, he is romantic long before you every begin a relationship- you just take it as a joke, a bit that's silly between close friends 

After you manage to pry that confession out of him or you make the first move, he is shockingly quick to put a label on it, you are his romantic partner! His love, hes your lucky charm

Ok ok like i said before i really don't thing that aventurine is the type to be in an actual relationship with someone he A)doesn’t trust, or B) doesn’t love

So by the time you get in a relationship there is already a strong foundation of real trust, but he has already realized he is hopelessly in love. 

I will die on the hill that aventurine is a stage 100 clinger 

This is a clingy man to his core, he is sending you 50 messages a day

Good morning, good night, have you eaten? I love you, miss you, literally anything because he truly dose miss you 

Have you eaten? Yes? Good have a little treat +500 credits 

No? Wait there he's taking you to lunch- or +5000 credits 

I know everyone says it but he really does spoil you. Now the way he sees it genuinely isn't as like a bribe but both something that genuinely makes him happy and also he likes to make your life easier 

Seeing you happy, being able to spoil you with gifts and treats and money brings him genuine joy, and knowing that he is able to provide some relief from the harsh reality of life makes his a very merry man

As I said, clingy- he loves your time, being able to spend time with you and relax in your presence is truly heaven. 

Most of his missions aren't dangerous, just business so he enjoys taking you with him so that he can spend more time with you

He is touch starved for positive physical contact and affection 

Sit in his lap, let him sit in yours- honestly he isn't very picky as long as he gets to touch you 

If you thought his playful bestie flirting was bad you are gonna die, because he gets so much worse, now that he knows exactly what to say so that he can fluster you he grows ever bolder in his pursuit

No matter what he says his actions always follow his words, he shows he loves you with the way he sees you and treats you, in the way he seems to crave you like a thirsty man craves water or how a plant craves the warm sun, to breathe you in like air and love you tenderly 

Even if he is clumsy at love and intimacy he still puts in a profound sense of effort. 

The definition of if he wanted to he would. And he definitely wants to

[sexcnanami]

minors dni, 18+ content

inexperienced!choso who's never felt the touch of a woman until the day he became your boyfriend. you weren't bothered by this fact and were always patient with him, often resorting to your toys whenever he would come over, leaving you hot and bothered after your make-out sessions. taking things slow was usually how you liked your relationships, but it felt different with choso. whenever you were together, your mind would always wander, thoughts ranging from how his smooth lips would feel as they trailed down your neck to how far his dick would reach if he slipped it in. as weeks turned to months, your patience begins to wear thing, causing you both to frequently get into arguments over dumb shit due to the pent up sexual frustration. but little did you know, he was experiencing the same thing. so after you were both exchanging meaningless and petty insults in your bedroom, not even remembering the small thing that made this entire thing happen, you finally say...

"If we fucked as much as we argued, I swear I'd never complain again." choso's nearly cut off guard, his realization causing for his argumentative attitude to soften.

"I-Is that what this is about?" he asks, his tone gentle. the moment you nod, he keeps himself from pulling you towards him, not wanting to instantly overstep with how upset you were. the silence in the air is unsettling, neither of you wanting to say anything after the elephant in the room has finally been addressed.

"I was worried I wouldn't be good at it, at touching you," he softly admits.

"That shouldn't mean you don't touch me at all," you retort, your voice subtly laced with sadness. without a second thought, he holds you in his arms and to his surprise, you allow it. "we can wait longer...if that's what you want." choso's eyes widened at this, looking down at you with almost anxious eyes.

"Not if it's making us fight like this," he shakes his head. the moment you look up to meet his gaze, looking into his tired, desperate eyes. you ponder your next move only for a moment before suddenly leaning up and smashing your lips against his, feeling fueled by pure frustration and the constant ache between your thighs. this catches him off guard but it doesn't take him long to start pulling at your clothes, implying that this wouldn't end in a simple make out. he was not planning on leaving you unsatisfied tonight, let alone ever again.

you help him with taking off your top, his eyes captivated by your pretty tits on display for him as you unclasp your bra, letting it drop effortlessly on the floor. that's when his breathing began to stagger, his hesitant, shy hands moving to cup your breasts, toying with them before a sharp gasp escaped him at the feeling of you palming his hardened cock through his pants. without a second thought, his lips secure themselves around one of your nipples, losing himself to the feeling of something so soft in his mouth, having you in his mouth. you can't fight the blush forming on your cheeks at the sound of his moans and how submissive he looked while sucking your tits.

he breaks away for a moment, making you feel almost shy under his gaze as he admired the hickies left behind on your skin, feeling prideful at the marks he left. once he leans toward you, his lips attack your collarbone, making you moan in pleasure. you're hesitant to truly touch him, your touch on his crotch beginning to falter before he suddenly grabs your face, capturing your lips in a heated kiss as his hands shakily pull down his pants, his dick immediately slapping against his toned abs. you don't even notice until he grabs hold of your hand, gently guiding you to wrap your soft fingers around the base of his cock. the feeling of you finally touching him alone was almost enough for him to cum instantly, but he knew he at least needed to wait, especially if there was a chance to fill you completely to brim. with his hand still wrapped around yours, his strokes are slow and steady, his breath heavy in your ear before letting go, allowing you to have your control. you study his face to gauge how he wants to be touched, watching his eyebrows knit together when your pace quickens. you lean against him, causing him to use the wall behind him for support as you jerk him off, feeling confident with the whimpers that started to pass his lips.

"Fuck, your hand feels better than I imagined," he breaths out, his tip reddening in anticipation. your ears perk up at the revelation, a subtle smirk making its way on your lips.

"You've thought about this before?" you repeat, which is met with his nod. you catch yourself chuckling at his reaction, swiftly dropping to your knees as you continued jerking him off. you watch as his eyes widen at your new position, his dick throbbing in excitement as your eyes stay on his.

"Can I taste you?" you softly ask, almost innocently as your breath fans over his tip. his breath is shaky as he vigorously nods, making a slight frown appear on your face.

"Use your words, sweetie," you boldly ask, more as a demand.

"P-Please wrap those lips around me, please," he desperately breathes out, immediately choking back a moan the moment you lean in and smoothly take him down your throat. you can't help but clench your thighs at the sounds he made, especially knowing just how close he was on the brink of cumming in your mouth from the way your tongue sloppily swirls around his tip. when you look up to meet his gaze, you're met with the pretty sight of his head thrown back against the wall, hands balled tightly by his sides as if he's about to explode at any moment. he allows you to reach the base of his dick right before he pulls himself out of your mouth, an act that both startles and confuses you.

"I want, need to be inside you," he says breathlessly, his cock twitching as he notices the line of saliva connecting your lips to the tip of him. you almost giggle at his expression, letting him help you up off your knees only to gently push you onto the bed. you prop yourself up on your elbows to look up at him with eager eyes, watching as he slides your pants down past your thighs, pulling your panties down with it to reveal your greedily sloppy pussy to his needy gaze. you feel almost shy as he hungrily looks at your heat, mindlessly pulling off the rest of your clothes while his lips part, anticipating the taste of your arousal on his lips. before you could say or do anything, his face dives into your pussy, shamelessly lapping away at your pooling arousal. his tongue works sloppily as he drives it against your cunt, your hand reaching to tug on his hair as the moans shamelessly leave your mouth. months of pent up frustration were wiping away the moment you feel yourself slipping closer to the edge, but you needed more.

"Use your fingers, baby" you groan, making his head instantly pop up from between your thighs. the sight of him alone made your legs weak, his mouth and jawline deliciously coated in your sweet arousal as he languidly meets your gaze. he's hesitant with your request, the anxiety already starting to brew and you can see it on the background of his lustful gaze. without a second thought, you grab a hold of his hand, taking his two fingers into your mouth before tracing your tongue around his digits. his eyes widen at the sight alone, watching from between your thighs as his mouth fell agape in awe at how pretty you looked. he didn't even realize that he was grinding against the mattress beneath him until he felt the wetness of his pre-cum spill onto the sheets. as you took his fingers out of your mouth, he doesn't waste a moment with plunging his soaked fingers into you, your back arching against the bed as his long digits drilled into you. his mouth latches back onto your soaked heat, devouring greedily at your cunt and you start to feel the knot in the pit of your stomach tighten, threatening to snap at any moment. your hands fisted the sheets, your release nearing closely as you can hear his soft moans, bringing more sensation to your throbbing clit. the second his fingers curl inside your pussy, you feel your orgasm slam against you and stain his face as your arousal spills out, your moans mixing with his own. his eyes widen at the result, slowly slipping his fingers out of your gummy walls as he curiously spreads your folds and making you squirm.

"This is what happens when I touch you," he says, more in acknowledgement. you weakly nod, watching as he lifts himself from between your thighs, coming to place his soaked lips onto yours and capturing you in a kiss. you could taste the sweetness lingering off of him, your sweetness.

he leans back, showcasing the wet patch on the sheets before sheepishly meeting your surprised gaze.

"You can only imagine what happens after I see you," he admits.

"I don't want to," you smirk, making him chuckle. it was safe to say that after today...you won't have to imagine anything again.

[mc-lukanette]

Marinette paced aimlessly around the room, only stopping occasionally to cast a glance at the container of cinnamon rolls on her table.

"It'd be weird to just show up, right?" she mumbled to herself. "It's not like I'd need an invite or anything - I wouldn't even know how to ask for one - but he might be busy, or maybe he wouldn't want to see me if it's not for hero work, or—"

"If you'd like to see him, you only have to ask."

She froze, spinning around to face Sass, who was lounging on top of the container with his tail swaying slowly back and forth. Frowning, she pointed out, "But you introduced us so we could support each other."

"Yes. And?" He grinned.

"W-well... I shouldn't just visit without a reason, and it's probably not a good idea to jump universes whenever I want to..." Her lips pressed together as she fidgeted with her fingers, struggling to hold onto her own overthinking. "Right?"

Sass slowly came off of the container, flying to the center of the room at a height slightly above the top of her head. "He's fighting an akuma according to my other self, but he should finish soon. You can wait for him."

Marinette was always impressed when Sass did this. As a kwami of possibilities, he naturally had the power to show her other places - other universes - but it continued to feel unreal actually seeing it. The symbols going along his back and tail would glow as he flew around in a tall, oval-esque shape, and the Sass on the "other side" would apparently do the same in the opposite direction. The portal would form starting at the edges, then inwards until the light would fill up the entire space there.

It was difficult for her to look directly at it at times due to how otherworldly it was, so she looked away and focused on picking up the little container. She heard the portal completing behind her, confirmed when Sass flew over to peek at the clear, cute little thing in her hands.

"It would have been a shame for your work to go to waste," he said, a lightheartedness in his tone.

Marinette winced in embarrassment, realizing that he'd seen the blatant bribery inside. Popping open the container from the side, she reached in and pulled out a hard-boiled egg, which Sass happily took.

Walking past him and towards the portal, she stopped halfway, looking back at him to start asking, "Oh, if there's an akuma...?"

He wrapped his tail around the egg in delight, waving a paw dismissively at the question without meeting her eyes. "All Sass are connected. If I know, Coccaerus's Sass will know, and we will bring you back."

The reassurance gave her confidence. She nodded at him, then finally stepped through the portal.

—————

When Marinette took her first step into the alternate universe, it sounded oddly familiar. She blinked rapidly, trying to make her vision adjust after the brief bout of dizziness that was common from crossing from one world to another.

The first thing she could observe was that she was in Coccaerus's - Luka's - room, made obvious by the guitar she had seen him with resting against the wall, She took in the sights, eyes moving from one wall to the other, seeing things that she knew she hadn't before, but in a space that was distinctly known to her.

"...Am I on the Liberty?" she wondered aloud.

The current universe's Sass hovered nearby, replying, "Yes. This is our master's home."

She was tempted to ask further, but noticed Sass's eyes directed down towards the container. With a fond roll of her eyes, she pulled out the other hard-boiled egg inside and handed it off to him.

Marinette had known already that there were differences between the two universes, the biggest she knew of being that she didn't exist in Luka's nor he in hers, but she hadn't thought that there could be people in place of others. She was so used to the semi-gothic aesthetic of Juleka's room that seeing Luka's own in its place was jarring, yet incredibly fascinating at the same time. Anarka must've still had a child, just Luka rather than Juleka, and she wondered what might've happened had they been born twins, or simply siblings.

The opening of a window caught her attention, and she turned to see Coccaerus swooping in. He landed quietly on the floor, but froze when he saw her.

"Marinette?"

She smiled sheepishly, wiggling the container at him. "I-I made cinnamon rolls for us?"

He stared, eyes flicking back and forth between her and the sweets, then grinned and strolled up to her. He waited for her to pop the container open so he could reach inside and pull one of the cinnamon rolls out, immediately taking a bite.

She brightened at how eager he seemed, but couldn't help asking, "You're not going to detransform?"

He leaned towards her, swallowing his bite before replying, "I can't let Tikki know you brought these."

She blushed and used grabbing her own cinnamon roll as an excuse not to meet his gaze. She bit into it, pretending not to hear his cute little giggle, and searched her mind for another topic.

"Ah, I'm glad you're here," she said, then stiffened and clarified, "I mean, because you're not where I'm from—there's someone else. A friend of mine, Juleka. She's here instead of you."

As both of her hands were occupied, she shoved the cinnamon roll into her mouth temporarily so she could gesture around the room with her icing-covered fingers. Coccaerus followed the gesture, though oddly more at her fingertips than the room itself.

He straightened, humming in thought at the information she'd dropped. "Really?"

She nodded due to being unable to talk, pulling the cinnamon roll out and taking in what had already been in her mouth.

Coccaerus's lips parted to speak, but he stopped as he looked her over. Pointing over towards his bed, he said, "I'll grab some napkins from the kitchen. Do you want to sit down?"

Wide-eyed as he took the container to put it away and moved past her, she almost choked, trying to swallow her bite quickly enough so she could speak before he'd left. "You don't have to do that! I came to give you these, but I don't want to be a bother."

"You're not," he insisted, already disappearing into the other room.

Helpless, Marinette turned to Sass in the corner, barely catching the little smirk he had on before he continued nibbling at the large egg in his paws. She'd been at the Liberty so many times, but it was so different knowing that it wasn't Juleka's room she was in, but a boy's room.

She tried not to acknowledge that it wasn't even about it being a boy's, but being Luka's. It would've been nice to have the extra support from any ladybug holder, but she'd been glad it was him. He provided something beyond advice, comfort, or helping out in big akuma battles when needed.

Staring at the bed, she finally willed herself to move and walked over to it. Putting her clean hand on the bed for support, she sat up onto it and got comfortable, idly licking her lips at the thought that she might look embarrassing with icing all over them.

When Coccaerus returned, she noticed him practically shoveling the rest of the cinnamon roll into his mouth. She was alarmed and almost asked why, but then his earrings beeped rapidly. She had never seen a boy so efficiently lick icing from his fingers before, so quick that he was done before the detransformation was complete and Tikki flew out to give them privacy.

It was quite mesmerizing, actually.

Luka joined her on the bed, passing her a small stack of napkins and only taking one for himself to clean the saliva off his fingers. "I'm torn."

"Huh?" She stared cluelessly at him, having still been stuck on the icing thing. "Torn on what?"

"I'm glad you have a friend back at home, but I wish I could've met you earlier," he clarified. "We only got to meet because we both happened to become guardians."

"Oh. Yeah, I..." She stared down at her lap, twisting a corner of one of the napkins between her thumb and index finger. "Yeah. We could've spent so much more time together if we didn't have to deal with going between universes."

"The casual universe jumping," he added playfully with the tone of someone who, like her, didn't deal with anything remotely magical before receiving a miraculous.

They both chuckled, and Marinette noted to herself that they were doing it again. Their jobs took so much focus and their role for each other was to be support, but when all the chaos died down, they got into something surprisingly friendly, almost bordering on flirtatious if she was honest with herself. It was crazy, because they were both busy ladybug guardians with sporadic schedules from totally different worlds, but they had still found each other through their respective Sass and everything had gone well for them so far.

"Going well" was also about as perfect as she could ever ask for from her life, making it even more surreal. She giggled, more to herself than anything else, and leaned against Luka affectionately.

"If it's so casual, that makes it sound like I can come whenever I want," she dared to point out.

He didn't pull away from her. Rather, he leaned towards her, wrapping an arm around her waist and bringing her closer to him. The slight distance that had made her lean a little awkward before was quickly closed, a squeak escaping her as she felt his head against the top of hers.

His voice a soothing whisper, he told her, "That's exactly what I mean."

Her head jerked up to look at his face, him moving accordingly so she didn't accidentally bash their heads together. She'd been joking just a bit, not wanting to get her hopes up, but he looked entirely serious. The only thing distinctly not serious about him was the icing right next to his lips, taunting her.

It somehow didn't look embarrassing on him as she feared it would on her.

Reigning in the temptation, she reached up with her free hand, then realized it was free and brought it back down to grab a napkin. She wiped the icing, as well as a few crumbs, from his lips, which he welcomed and kept entirely still throughout the entire needlessly slow process.

"...Um, Luka—" she began.

Before she could say anything else, the sound of hands slapping against the nearby doorframe made her jump. She pressed herself against Luka for security, eyes darting on alert to the source of the noise: Anarka, looking just as bold and chaotic as she knew in her own world.

"Hey, Luka! I'm—" She ceased talking as she took in the sight of the two of them, brows raising in curiosity.

Marinette reminded herself that she was the fearless hero Ladybug to fight the urge to hide her face in Luka's chest. She could only imagine how this looked: Anarka's son, arm around who was a complete stranger to her, and said stranger was not only leaning against him but also had been in the process of wiping his lips for him as if he didn't have an entire hand he could've used to do it himself. The reality that she couldn't tell her was that she was a superhero partner to him from the multiverse, so she needed another excuse.

And the best excuse, in her mind, was an interpretable one with plausible deniability.

Thinking fast, she shoved nearly half of the remaining cinnamon roll into her mouth, chewing and bunching it up just enough to speak but not so much that it would be anything intelligible. She babbled complete muffled nonsense, making casual hand gestures like waving, pointing, and others that definitely meant nothing but could've been anything with the right mindset.

Without looking at him, she held the rest of the cinnamon roll up towards Luka's face, silently encouraging him to do the same if he felt it appropriate. She pushed aside all thoughts of an indirect kiss to consider later, focusing on the task at hand.

She felt an indication that Luka had bit in and slowly opened her fingers so he could inhale the rest of it. The feeling of his lips brushing her hand was also a thing she filed away for later, though she didn't doubt it showed on her face.

Having a reputation already for going along with all of her crazy ideas, Luka waved as well and spoke with words that might as well have been classified as sounds, just as she had. Anarka simply stared the whole time, watching the two of them pretend to make conversation with her that served as an adequate explanation for everything she'd just seen.

When they ran out of fake gestures and words to not actually say, they could only wait for the reaction and deal with what was to come. Beyond her Ladybug persona, no one had ever seen Marinette in Luka's world before, so it was uncharted territory.

Not missing a beat, Anarka grinned. Throwing her hands up, she admitted, "Well, I was heading out and thought I'd ask if y'needed anything, but I see you've got everything right here." She turned, but kept her eyes on them for a moment to add, "Introduce me properly sometime, hm~?"

With that, she left as if she'd never appeared in the first place. Marinette's heart raced, and she was stuck in place for a solid minute before exchanging equally red-faced expressions with Luka.

Uh oh?

[sequinsmile-x]

Retreat

“He has Tommy,” she says, swallowing thickly, her throat stuffed full of everything she couldn’t and wouldn’t say, “He’s not alone.” 

-x-

Hi besties <3

This is for the lovely @dontemilyyyyme, who inspired this fic with her love of the episode Haunted and that Hotchniss scene we all know and love.

It's been a hot minute since I did an episode fic, and this was fun to write.

Please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: None. Might make your heart hurt.

Words: 3.4k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

The drive back to his apartment is silent. 

Emily had spent weeks driving him around. At first, it had been for follow-up appointments with his doctor and his physical therapist. She’d sit in the waiting room, a case file open in her lap that she was barely able to pay attention to, wishing more than anything that she could sit by his side, that she had the right to be there with him. The first time she drove him anywhere was when she picked him up from the hospital, her smile kind and her chest aching as he finally gave up on insisting he didn’t need a wheelchair to make it to the car. Emily could still remember the look on his face, something she knew was shame painted across his features as a nurse pushed him towards where she was parked by the front entrance, a bag of his things that she’d brought in for him slung over her shoulder. They hadn’t really spoken about it, and he hadn’t fought her help since his initial attempt to insist he could get home from the hospital by himself, so when it came to him coming back to work it seemed like the natural next step that she’d drive him there too. 

Even during that first journey, they’d spoken. Conversations that got easier over time, everything that was unsaid and hanging in the air around them lighter each time he got in her car, their ability to ignore all the almosts and maybes improving each time. 

This was different. 

She was angry at him for putting himself in danger in a way she wasn’t sure she had a right to be, her hands tight on the steering wheel, her knuckles paperwhite as skin stretched over bone, whilst she desperately tried not to yell at him. All the feelings she’d had for weeks threatening to break free from where she’d buried them. Emotions she refused to name simmering beneath her skin again just like they had when she realised he was missing and found his blood on his living room floor - a vivid bloom she could still see whenever she closed her eyes. 

They’d been dancing on the edge of something more than friends for a while now. They took it in turns leading, pulling the other along until they almost made it to the climax of the dance they’d fallen into, cursed to stop just before by circumstance and interruptions each time. 

It started when he found her after the case with Matthew. She’d been wandering the streets, coldness seeping into her bones, when she heard Aaron’s voice. She was half convinced she was imagining him at first, sure she was in the first stages of hypothermia and her brain was playing tricks on her, and then he was next to her. His hand on her arm, the warmth of his touch through her coat almost as burning as the concern in his eyes. He’d shrugged his coat off, ignoring her instance that he was fine, his kindness falling over her like the snow around them landed on his shoulders. He’d taken her home, put the heater in his car on max, and kept his silence. He’d followed her into her apartment and made her a cup of hot chocolate and something to eat whilst she changed. 

When he tried to leave, his smile kind and as soft as she’d ever seen it, she found herself stopping him before she could think about it, not sure why she wanted him to stay but entirely sure she didn’t want to be alone. She hadn’t told him everything that night, but she’d told him that Matthew had helped her when no one else had, and that she wished she’d been able to do the same for him. He told her that she had helped him, that she’d got him the justice he deserved, and when she looked up from the soup he’d warmed up for her, soup she wasn’t even aware she had in her fridge, the way he was smiling at her made her stomach flip. 

It didn’t take long for her to return the favour. Foyet had appeared in their lives when she was still recovering from Matthew’s loss, and she’d been able to focus on Aaron instead. She watched as he struggled with how everything with Foyet happened, and when she showed up at his door, takeout and alcohol in hand, he told her about the deal he refused to take. How he immediately worried he’d made the wrong decision. She told him in no uncertain terms that he’d made the right call, that he wouldn’t be him if he had taken the deal, and she knew it had comforted him. 

They’d become each other’s confidants. A friendship that was quickly turning into more, a mutual attraction right there between them - a third partner in their friendship that was getting harder to ignore. 

After the case with the anthrax, she kissed him. Her blood still thrumming with all the what could have beens and a recognition that it could have all been over before she even knew what it was like to kiss him. The moment her lips touched his she worried she’d misread everything, his stillness against her heavy and heart shattering. It took him a second to react, the longest second of her life, and then he wrapped his arm around her waist, his other hand on her cheek as he held her in place. 

If it was up to her, she would have pushed him back onto her couch there and then. Let herself get lost in him and let him do the same with her. But he’d stopped her, his hands on her shoulders, his touch gentle but reverent, as he said he wanted to take her on a date first. To talk about where they stood, to know that they were both on the same page. Despite herself, despite the desire for him making her practically vibrate, she’d agreed. Kissed him again, softer this time, as she grumbled he’d better not make her wait too long. 

They’d had to rearrange their date twice. He’d smiled apologetically the second time, his eyes gentle as he pulled her aside, his hand tight around hers as he promised they’d go for dinner when they got back from Canada, a soft kiss pressed against the corner of her mouth, the taste of the promise he’d had to break through no fault of his own still lingering on her lips. 

They hadn’t spoken about it since. Whatever they were about to be, whatever she worried they no longer could be, wasn’t important anymore. Not when he’d been so viciously attacked in his own home. Not when he’d been separated from his son. 

She was grateful that he let her drive him to work and to his appointments. That he let her look after him in the only way she could, her palms always itching to reach out for him, to kiss him in a way she’d only been able to do a handful of times. 

She didn’t want to call it love, even though that’s what she was sure it was, because it felt too soon. Too much.

It felt like it might be the very reason she’d end up with a broken heart. 

When she turns off the engine of her car and opens her door, he tries to argue that she doesn’t have to walk him up, something she shuts down with nothing but a look and a raised eyebrow. She follows him into his apartment and closes the door behind them as he unsets the alarm she’d helped him replace. She presses her lips together when he switches the light on, her attention immediately drawn to the piles of boxes full of what she knows are Foyet’s case files. Everything she can’t feel for him, everything she wants to say but won’t, pools inside her hollow chest, the weight of it almost pulling her under until she hears him speak. 

“You didn’t have to walk me up here you know.” 

She looks over at him and sighs, “I know,” she says, her smile sad and fleeting as their eyes meet. She doesn’t want to leave. Doesn’t want to be alone or for him to be either, so she thinks of something else to say, something that was safe and that wouldn’t bring up everything they’d silently agreed not to talk about. “So do you think Cal’s going to be okay?” 

Aaron sighs and clenches his jaw, his hands in fists at his side to stop himself from reaching out for her at her obvious attempt to keep a conversation going. He wanted her so much, wanted to bask in her comfort, that it felt selfish. Everything had changed when Foyet attacked him except how he felt about her, but he couldn’t drag her into this. Couldn’t pull her into the mess that his life had become and put her in danger. 

He’d never forgive himself if she got hurt because of him. Her blood something he would never be able to wash from his hands. 

“I don’t know,” he says simply, not sure what else he can say, his gaze drifting to the floor between them. 

“He got his answers. Killed the man who haunted him.”

His head snaps up as he looks at her, any pretence that they were talking about anything other than him, than about the two of them, gone as quickly as she’d started it. “Then what else is there?” 

She knows he sees through her, he was one of the few who could, but she doesn’t care. This is the closest they’d come to talking about any of it since he’d been hurt, and she couldn’t bring herself to stop, “The years of torture.” 

The look in her eyes makes him ache, and he turns around for a moment, looks around the apartment he doesn’t feel safe in but feels like he can’t leave, and looks back at her when he gathers himself. “Do you think he’ll get over that?” 

“How could he?” She shrugs, her hands clasped in front of her so she doesn’t reach out for him,    “But at least he doesn’t have to feel like he’s alone anymore.”

“He doesn’t have anyone.” 

Not for the first time, she finds herself considering getting in touch with Clyde. Thinks about breaking years of silence and a promise she’d made herself to put it all behind her in the vague hope that her old boss and friend would be able to help. That his contacts would be able to do more than the FBI could. More than once in the middle of the night when she couldn’t sleep, the other side of her bed achingly empty even though Aaron had never slept there, she’d almost called Clyde. Her thumb lingering over the call button, her focus flicking between the number she didn’t have saved in her phone but knew by heart and her torn-up cuticles. 

“He has Tommy,” she says, swallowing thickly, her throat stuffed full of everything she couldn’t and wouldn’t say, “He’s not alone.” 

They fall into silence, the double meaning of everything they’d said so thick in the air around them his nod is barely discernible. As if he didn’t have the strength to push through it all to simply lift his head. She waits for him to say something, anything, but he doesn’t. She nods and turns to the door, ready to leave, and then he speaks, stopping her in place. 

“Get some sleep.” 

“You too,” she says, reaching for the door, but she stops herself. Unable to carry on. Everything that had been convincing her to give him space ever since he’d been in the hospital no longer making any sense to her. The weight of everything that had and that hadn’t happened between them heavy on her chest as she turns back to look at him, her hand still wrapped around the handle on his front door, “I’ll stay. If you ask me to.” 

The silence that follows her offer is somehow heavier than the last, but she wouldn’t want to take it back even if she could. It’s the most honest she thinks she’s been in a long time, the desire to be near him, even if it wasn’t in the way she wanted to be, stronger than anything else. 

He sucks in a breath and it catches on his ribs, sticks to still fresh scar tissue that would ache if he moved in just the wrong way. He couldn’t deny he wanted her to stay, and he was sure she could read that in his expression, but he couldn’t want it. He’d already lost Jack to his decision, his safety more important than his own desire to have his son near, and he wouldn’t lose her to it too, “Em-”

“I know things have changed, but the way I feel about you hasn’t,” she cuts him off, not sure she wants to hear all the reasons this wasn’t a good idea, not from him. She steps forward, tucking her car keys into her pocket and stops just short of touching him, “And I don’t think the way you feel about me has either.” 

He chokes on a laugh, the thought of how he felt about her changing negatively, as if his feelings could do anything other than grow, almost ridiculous,” “Of course it hasn’t. You’re…of course it hasn’t,” he sobers, his shoulders slumping slightly as he steps towards her, the space between them now non-existent. His hand twitches as his side, and it takes everything in his power to not tuck her hair behind her ear, “I can’t put you in danger.” 

Their embargo on not touching each other comes to a quiet end as she reaches out for him and links their fingers together, her palm pressed against his, his skin just as warm as she remembered. “I’m a big girl. I can handle myself,” she tilts her head, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as her eyes meet his. “I want to be here for you. I want you.” 

“I want you too.”

His admission escapes before he means it to, something he can’t hold back anymore. Weeks of having her within arms length, her not subtle but gentle care a comforting blanket he wasn’t sure he could have lived without. She smiles at him and leans in, stamping her lips against his cheek, his breath caught between them as she pulls back, her smile soft with a teasing edge to it. 

“You have to ask me,” she says softly, needing to hear from him that he wanted her to stay, not sure she could cope if she felt like she’d inserted herself into his life when he didn’t want her there. 

He closes his eyes and rests his forehead against hers, taking a moment to breathe her in, “Will you stay?” 

She considers joking. Considers flashing a wry smile as she pretends she can’t, but she knows now isn’t the time. That he needs sincerity and all the care he’ll allow her to give him, “Of course I can,” she kisses his cheek again, “I’ll get my bag from my car.” 

“I’ll come with you.”

She smiles as she pulls back and she nods. She doesn’t tell him that she can do it herself, because she knows this is more about him than her. His silent uncertainty about being alone after a case that had hit a little too close to home. They walk out to her car hand in hand to get her bag, and when they walk back over the threshold of his apartment it feels like everything and nothing has changed since they did the very same thing just a few minutes ago. 

“Are you hungry?” He asks, hesitant to let go of her hand as he locks the door behind them, the first step towards something new between them finalised when the lock clicks into place. 

She shakes her head, “I’m not. I think I just need to sleep.” 

“Me too,” he says, squeezing her hand, “You can get changed in the bathroom.” 

Emily nods and steps towards the bathroom, smiling when he doesn’t let go of her hand, and she closes the gap between them again. She kisses him properly this time, her lips briefly pressed against his before she pulls back. 

“You can let go of my hand,” she cups his cheek with her spare hand, “I’m not going to change my mind.” The look in his eyes, a kind of vulnerability she’d only seen once before when he first woke up in the hospital, hollows out her chest. It makes words she knows it would too soon for in normal circumstances try and climb up her throat. She swallows them down and strokes his jaw, “I’ll be here for you as long as you need me to be.” 

He nods and squeezes her hand before he lets go, “I’ll see you in a few minutes.” 

She makes quick work of getting changed into her pjyamas - an old Yale t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants - and she takes her make-up off, only thinking about the fact this would be the first time he saw her without it once the deed was done. She seeks him out the moment she steps out of the bathroom, finds him in his bedroom dressed in an old Harvard t-shirt and grey sweatpants that make her cheeks feel warm. 

She’d always found him attractive, even when she didn’t like him all that much. Before they started the slow walk to whatever this was, she always wondered if they’d eventually sleep together. She pictured it differently. She thought they’d yell at each other over something and fuck on his desk or in a hotel room somewhere. She never pictured this. The two of them standing a few feet apart in his bedroom, dressed in almost matching pjyamas, ready to sleep next to each other in the literal sense, another small step towards what she thinks might be their forever. 

“You can sleep in Jack’s room if you like,” he offers, his hands stuffed into his pockets, “If you don’t mind Captain America sheets.” 

She shakes her head and steps towards him, linking their fingers together again as she smiles softly, “As much as I’m sure his bed is comfortable,” she says, a smile flickering across her face, “I’m sure yours is comfier.” 

It makes him smile despite everything. The gap in his heart his son had left behind. The worry he had that he’d never get him back. The feeling he couldn’t shift that he was putting Emily in a situation he shouldn’t be. He finds himself wishing he’d let her talk him into going further than just kissing that first night, that he had given himself the chance to know her, to let her know him, before his body was changed beyond his own recognition. 

At least he’d have known then what it was like to love her like he did without the guilt that forever chased it now.

“Left or right?” He asks, and she smiles, her hand squeezing his. 

“Right.” 

They climb into bed, each laying on their respective sides before he makes the first move this time, shifting towards her until their sides touch. She shifts onto her side and moves towards him, his arm hooking around her as she rests her head on his shoulder. There was so much both of them wanted to say and so much that they couldn’t. So they lay there, slowly but surely tangling themselves around each other like vines. Wordlessly wrapping themselves together, a kind of connection rooted in their understanding of each other and what they both wanted next.  

“God, you’re like a furnace,” she says eventually, smiling when he chuckles, the vibration of it passing from his chest to hers as he pulls the covers over them both, “I could get used to this.”  

He kisses the top of her head, and hopes that she understands everything he presses into it. That she feels the love he cannot put into words yet passing from his skin into hers. 

“I could get used to it too.” 

[frozenjokes]

THE TIME LOOP AU IS ALL WRITTEN!!!!!!!!!! MY GUYS!!!! I can not wait to share the rest of the story TY FOR THE SUPPORT!!!!! ao3 link

below, some snippets from the final chapters. the next will be up tomorrow :3

Cleo smirked, “Keep talking kitty kitty, your days are numbered,” Cleo started to twirl the lasso, and Scar scoffed.

“Keep dreaming.”

Predictably, the first three times Cleo attempted to throw the lasso she missed terribly; Scar had mostly been teaching her the tricks and this required a completely different technique! To emphasize his confidence, Scar tucked all of his limbs under his body, commencing his groom. The sad fwap of the lasso hitting nothing along with Cleo’s continued threats were music to his ears. He frowned as he nosed through his chest fur, coming across a small shard that had wedged itself into his skin. Gingerly, he plucked it away, spitting it back at Cleo before continuing to ignore her. Stubborn, silly creature. He licked away the remaining beads of blood without concern, eyed contentedly shut.

///

“I don’t think you understand how your violence affects other people. I’m still looking for snares every time I walk through a hall. I still feel it around my neck. Sometimes when I think about you it feels like choking.”

“That.” Cub paused, not quite faltering, but not exactly facing Scar with the same confidence. “That was a long time ago.”

“May as well have been yesterday.”

///

“If you want a story so damn bad, tell one yourself. That, or leave it,” Cleo huffed, and Scar mumbled a quiet agreement, moving to cuddle in with her as she finished settling down. Cub stayed where he was, sitting on the edge of the bed. Scar thought the conversation was over then, and the silence had lasted so long that he’d started to doze off when Cub spoke.

“Used to feed the crows in my backyard.” Cub paused for a moment before amending, “Birds. Small animals with wings. Anyway, before my cats died we still had a bit of food left, and my family never really threw anything away. I always took little baggies into the woods when I’d go. It was great. Whole flocks would follow me around, thirty to fifty birds.. I got in trouble for feeding them too close to the house since they figured out where I lived. Cawed all sorts of noise very early in the morning.” Cub nodded to himself, closing his eyes where he sat.

Scar waited for him to continue. The waiting grew increasingly more awkward until Scar couldn’t help but prompt him, “And what happened next?”

Cub yawned, moving to settle in under the sheets beside Cleo. “I stopped feeding them.”

Scar waited. Cub did not elaborate.

…

Maybe this is why Cub had never contributed a story before. He wasn’t particularly talented at telling them.

///

“True soldiers, born in blood,” Grian mumbled, turning away, “Battle forth ‘til his pads are raw, face grave. But never stop. Whether he is good leaves no relevance; however, he certainly is true. As for I.. I can not take his sword. But his family?” Grian sighed, “As long as he chooses to keep it, I will not interfere.” He left them without another word. Scar couldn’t stop staring.

[prentisslvr]

prentisslvr 100 followers celebration!! prompt list

authors note: i saw someone do a prompt list celebration a while back and i absolutely loved the idea of doing one myself and have had this in my drafts waiting until i hit 100 & now im finally there!!

some rules: if you want reader or (character) to say these prompts please let me know!! i would hate to get it wrong!! that’s all <3

these are my favourite prompts i found on pinterest and some i came up with myself, not all of these are credited to me!! i cannot find the original posters but i am not taking credit <3

“we are not just friends and you know it!”

“but you’re my bestfriend.”

“if we get caught i’m blaming you.”

“is that my shirt?”

“i wouldn’t kiss you if my life depended on it!”

“do that again please.”

“did i ever tell you how beautiful your eyes are?”

“stop looking at me like that!”

“i couldn’t go through with it, the whole time i was thinking about you.”

“i want our kids to have your eyes.”

“i won’t let anything happen to you, i swear.”

“is now a bad time to tell you that i am extremely afraid of heights?”

“oh come on, you and i both knew what he was doing.”

“you’ve got a mouth on you, huh? you know someone should really teach you what to do with it.”

“if i was able to just hold your hand in public, i don’t think id ever let go.”

“do you ever think about what life would be like for us if things were different?”

“wait— what if someone sees us?”

“please stop pushing me away and let me take care of you, you’re sick.”

“so.. uh.. how’d your date go?”

“no.. no, keep your eyes open okay, focus on me, you’re gonna be alright.”