#we all want to squeeze animals because they’re so cute

[art-in-distress]

It’s funny how some experiences, regardless of what time, country or society you’re from, are universal. Like, everyone in history has probably had their stomach make ungodly noises during a time of silence (in class, on the subway, at a funeral) which made you immediately want to sink into the ground and disappear, and honestly I think that’s beautiful. We’re all human, no matter what time or place we’re in. We all have embarrassing moments that we’d rather not think of, but it’s all part of the wolf roller coaster we call life

[innerfare]

Smutty Captain Kid Headcanons - Part 2 

Summary: A collection of NSFW headcanons for Captain Kid

Genre: Smut

CW: oral sex, dirty talk, mean dom Kid, spanking, biting, spitting, rough sex, unsafe sex, Kid might be a bit toxic, threesomes

———

Gets a little too turned on if you flip him off during sex. The first time you did it, he was fucking you from behind and goading you like he usually does; unable to talk you flipped him the bird, and he came almost instantly. Is there a such thing as a middle finger kink? Because if so, he has it.

Super into sexy costumes. French maid, innocent bunny, cute sailor girl, the Gol D. Roger costume you customized to be comically inappropriate. Aside from costumes, leopard print lingerie is his favorite. 

Sounds like a feral animal when he goes down on you. Prefers to do it from behind because it seems to make you even more vulnerable. Has eaten you out on the deck of the Victoria Punk, you clinging to the wheel and keeping a lookout for any crew members, Kid shoving a finger up your ass. Eats ass, too. His favorite is the way you gasp and whine when he spits on you to lube you up. Definitely spanks you while he goes down on you, both ass and tits, and squeezes your thighs like he’s trying to rip the skin open. 

Most nights the two of you are together, it sounds like there’s a rabid dog loose in his cabin. The crew has come to accept this. 

Never leaves your nipples alone. Pinches them, squeezes them, flicks them, bites them. You had to set boundaries re: your nipples because they were raw all the time. 

Wants to hurt you, but also wants you to hurt him. Will grab your face in his massive hand and squeeze until you slap him, will spit in your mouth and swallow when you spit back, will bite the ever-loving crap out of your neck (like actually chomp down on you, no such thing as sweet little love bites), laughs like a mad man if you rake your nails down his chest and draw blood (bonus points for hurting his nipples), never smacks your ass less than ten times, will cum immediately if you try to bite his ear off. 

If you show even a hint of dissatisfaction after the deed is done, he’s back on top of you in an instant pounding away. 

Is the absolute worst about birth control. Complains incessantly if you make him wear condoms, usually because they’re ‘too small’ and cramp his style, claims he has a latex allergy and condoms give him a rash (literally not true). Annoyed by his whining, you try the pull out method, only to find he’s even worse about that. “But it feels so good.” “I don’t want to pull out.” “Why should I even bother? We both want me to cum inside of you, anyway.” “Stop complaining.” “I didn’t become a pirate to follow rules, y/n.” He does genuinely try to pull out, but he’s so bad at it. You have no choice but to get on some form of pill before you have a little red-haired menace running around. 

Once you do get on that pill, you never don’t have his cum inside you. He cums a cartoonish amount, too, and by the time you’re cleaned out, he’s mounting you again. 

Believes in kissing and telling. In particular, he wants you telling. He wants you getting drunk and telling the bar that his balls are the size of a bull’s. He wants you telling the crew you’re taking it easy because you got dicked down the night before and you’re sore as a motherfucker. He wants you tearing apart the infirmary for bruise cream, loudly announcing it’s because Kid can’t just make love sweetly but has to ride you like an animal every night. 

Loves fucking you out in the open. Usually it's on the deck of the Victoria Punk. Has also fucked you in an alleyway outside a tavern before.

Really loves the idea of a threesome but is far too jealous of a lover to make it work. If you like girls, he’s obsessed with the idea of you being dominated by one. Also enjoys letting other people watch, especially men (strict no touching rule); he wants to show off his prowess. 

That being said, Killer is the exception. Kid is more than happy to switch off with Killer, the two of them tag teaming you until you just can’t take anymore. Killer can even fuck you when Kid’s not there to oversee.

Is secretly a sweet little boy, and it shows in after care. Calls you all sorts of sweet nicknames when you’re in his big arms afterward, but says them quietly in your ear. Tells you that if you disappeared, he would tear the world apart looking for you, and if you died, he would set the world on fire. And he’s just crazy enough to mean it.

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[kithtaehyung]

ryen is this canon 3tan yoongi talent?

https://www.instagram.com/reel/Cvrshx3smOq/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

now i need a hundred plushies from him 😭 he's not going anywhere 😭

“What the fuck?”

He’s laughing. You just witnessed him effortlessly grab a third plushie from a clearly rigged claw machine and he’s laughing!

“No, seriously, this is some wizard shit,” you accuse, unblinking as he bends to grab his prize before wiggling it in triumph. “How are you so good at this?”

“I’m good at everything.”

Your scoff mixes with his mirth as you spin on your heel, arms now chock full of stuffed cats and one cute little frog.

But despite not wanting to further inflate the hot air balloon that’s his ego, you’re so in awe that you can’t help but comment,

“I’ve never seen someone do that before.”

“Yeah?” Beside you, Yoongi fetches something in his pocket. “Not even your brother? I think he got something from that one once.”

“Really?”

“Oh, wait. No, that was me again.”

And the gloater of the century secures his spot.

“I’m so tired of you.”

“Wait, wait,” he huffs out. “Look real quick.”

“Huh?”

As you turn his way, you only get a split second to recognize the phone in his long fingers.

Aimed right at you.

Did he just—

Your reaction should be words, like telling him to stop, or reminding him that he shouldn’t be doing anything much less taking a picture.

But what comes out instead is a blubbering, fumbling mess, and you lunge for the phone right before he backs up, grin stretching his face in the most devilish way.

“Yoongi—!”

“Hmm?”

“What are you—”

“So cute.”

He’s still holding the phone oh god it’s a video?

“Are you recording?”

His burst of laughter gives him away, and the butterfly wings tickling your stomach make you join him, even though you’re hyper hyper hyperaware of your surroundings now.

You don’t even know where the two of you stumble to, but you’re determined to not let him get away, bright colors and lights filling the night on all sides.

Finally, you clutch his hand as you squeeze all the plushies under an arm. “Give it!”

“No!”

“Yes!” You plead through a smile as you yank it from his hand.

But when you look at the screen, you discover that the video wasn’t even being recorded. Because the red button is still sitting there untouched.

…Why are you a tad disappointed?

Yoongi’s voice comes out soft,

“I know we can’t, doll.”

And he sounds a tad disappointed, too.

Still staring at the phone, you make a decision. A quick one. A small one.

But one you make purely for him.

Switching to Photo Mode, you raise the phone up high, scrunching your face against the mini bunch of stuffed animals before capturing this moment.

And it’s not until you hand his device back to him that you realize.

Holy shit.

You really just took a selfie with Yoongi’s phone.

“Keep it,” you whisper. “Or don’t, whatever.”

He’s just staring at you, device almost limp in his hand as he stands there.

“You.. You okay?”

“Come here.”

You’re pulled in before you can question further, a chaste but full kiss planted on your lips before you’re left to your own two feet again.

“Let’s go find them,” he leads, voice low. “I think they’re almost done with the ride.”

“K,” you oblige, shyly following his sure strides and straightened back.

Smiling against a fluffy stuffed cat when you see that he’s still looking at his phone.

—

—

3tanslices: mini-scenarios!

series: three tangerines

[lavendertom]

My Favorite Prize

Mike Schmidt x f!Reader

wc: 1.7k

warnings: none! just fluff and fun 🤗

so this is my first time ever writing a fic and posting it, so apologies if it isn’t great and has mistakes, i just felt so drawn to this idea i had to attempt to write it! i hope y’all enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it :)

this is kind of an au where nothing bad ever happened to the pizzeria (i’m an optimist if u can’t tell), mike still has the security job there, but it’s all good vibes bc he deserves happiness :’) basically just mike, abby, and reader having a fun day out at freddy’s ☺️

also was written w a female reader in mind, but i don’t think there’s any explicit use of she/her pronouns so do what you will with that

keeping this intro short as possible, but i’ll include another a/n at the end!

——————————————————————————

You would’ve never thought that taking a babysitting job for a neighbor down your street would lead to some of the best memories you’ve ever had. Not to mention it also led to you and Mike, your boyfriend, meeting each other.

Naturally, you spend a lot of time with Mike and especially his sister, Abby, who you’ve been babysitting for about 6 months now. Your bond with her feels like so much more than just being her babysitter, even more so after starting to date Mike. You are always more than happy to do all kinds of activities with her, even if you’re “off the job.” After all, you’re at the house almost everyday now.

“Can we please go to Freddy’s today? I’ve been collecting quarters for months now, I want to use them!” Abby begged as you, her, and Mike finished your breakfast.

“I���m sure your brother doesn’t want to go to work over the weekend, but I can take you if you really want to go.” you said with a smile as you got up to wash off your plate.

“What makes you think I wouldn’t want to join in on this?” Mike asked looking back at you.

“You need a break, Mike.” you answered. “You stay home and rest, Abby and I will go. Plus it’s your job, you don’t want to be thinking about work over the weekend. I don’t mind taking her, trust me.” You often needed to remind him it was okay to stay home and rest. He works his ass off, mostly to provide for Abby, but also because he can’t help but spoil you as well. Even if you didn’t need anything, he still cared too much.

“Please y/n!” Abby shouted from her seat. “Let Mike come too. It will be extra fun then!”

“Yeah, y/n.” Mike said, giving you that look you couldn’t say no to. You looked into those brown eyes, shaking your head smiling.

“Okay, okay,” you responded laughing at the siblings, “let’s go then.”

The three of you piled into Mike’s sedan. On the way there, you and Abby sang some of her favorite Disney tunes, occasionally getting Mike to sing a line or two.

When you arrived, Abby immediately ran up to the stage of three animatronic animals who were singing and dancing. You and Mike followed behind, hand in hand. The pizzeria was full of children playing games, eating pizza, and running around doing whatever kids do.

“I don’t know why she loves those damn robots so much.” Mike said as the two of you walked in. “They’re creepy.”

“I think it’s cute.” you replied. “I think it’d be fun to hang out with them sometime, you know? Like, play arcade games with them, eat some pizza. I mean, you practically have a sleepover with them every night, Mike.”

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you had to be their guardian every night.” he said sarcastically.

“I don’t buy it, you love them.” you responded, squeezing his hand. He gave you a dramatic eye roll and you couldn’t help but giggle at him. You finally caught up to Abby, finding the girl still in awe of the animatronic show. “Alright Abby, what are we doing first?”

The girl thought for a moment, until her eyes lit up and that mischievous little smirk she makes was on her face. “Skee ball competition.”

“What does the winner get?” Mike asked.

“If I win, you have to get me ice cream for dessert.” She replied confidently. She always knew what she wanted, and she was gonna get it no matter what.

“And what if I win?” you asked.

“Then Mike has to get you a prize.” She replied grinning at the two of you.

“Why’s it always me who has to pay the price?” he asked. Abby already began skipping towards the arcade games.

“You’re the one who asked.” you replied giving him a shrug. “And by the way, I’m so winning this.”

“Yeah?” he asked smirking as the two of you followed Abby. “What if I win? What do I get?”

“I guess something can be arranged if you win.”

“Well you better start thinking of something because there won’t be an ‘if I win’, just a when I win.”

The three of you found the skee ball games, each picking a lane to play on. You all agreed whoever had the most points after three rounds of playing was the winner. Abby decided she would count down before shouting “go!” and the game was on. Surprisingly, Abby did very well, and the game ended with a win for Abby, and a draw between you and Mike for second place.

“I win!” Abby shouted jumping up and down before giving Mike a hug. “Now you have to get me ice cream for dessert!” You couldn’t help but smile at the two, their bond was unlike any other.

“Okay, okay, Abby!” he said with a laugh as Abby pulled away from him. “But before that, it looks like y/n and I have a tie to break.”

“Oh, we’re doing this now huh?” you said, crossing your arms. “You can’t stand a draw?”

“I was told there would be prizes and I am not letting my efforts go to waste.”

“Okay, fine, best of three wins.” You grabbed a handful of quarters out of the cup sitting on edge of the game.

“Ready to lose, sweetheart?”

What he didn’t realize was Abby slowly making her way towards your skee ball lane, silently noting she was on your side.

“Don’t get so ahead of yourself, babe.” you said with a playful scoff. What ensued after was the best mix of chaos and fun.

You and Abby were both trying to throw as many balls as you could in the somewhat small skee ball lane. The two of you were laughing at how terribly it ended up working out. Mike finally realized the team you two had formed to which he kept playfully shoving the balls out of your hands, while somehow still maintaining control of his own with his other hand. By the end, you were so out of breath from not only playing the competitive game, but laughing at the madness that occurred.

“I can’t believe you let Mike win, y/n!” Abby said, sounding more upset than she should’ve been.

“I would never let your brother purposely beat me at a game of skee ball.” you said, still out of breath. “He sabotaged the game!” you shouted, giving him a knowing look while pointing an accusing finger at him.

“I believe I deserve some sort of prize for my victory.” he responded smirking as he stood looking at you with his arms crossed.

You finally caught your breath as you looked into his brown eyes, then down to his lips which still held the small smirk. You walked closer to him, putting your hands on his shoulders as you stood on your tip toes to place a soft, small kiss on his lips. He put his hands around your waist, pulling you in just a bit. You could feel him smile, and you did too, letting out a small laugh.

“I’m still here you know.” Abby said, making you both turn to face her, still standing by the skee ball lane. She wasn’t the biggest fan of the two of you showing affection, but you knew deep down it made her happy. After all, she was the one who got you guys to realize your feelings for each other. “So am I getting my ice cream or not?”

“How could I forget.” Mike said sarcastically to his sister, giving her a small smile. He wrapped an arm around your waist as you stood next to him. “Does pizza sound good for dinner?”

“Of course, but don’t you dare forget her ice cream. She’s scary when she gets mad.” you said that last part in a whisper just loud enough for Abby to hear.

“Hey!” she shouted, knowing you guys were messing with her.

“Believe me, I know.” Mike said, ruffling his sister’s hair as they all made their way to the dining room.

The three of you enjoyed a delicious pizza dinner at Freddy Fazbear’s, making sure not to forget Abby’s ice cream she so rightfully earned. Before you left for home, Abby traded in some of her tickets for prizes at the prize counter. She ended up choosing a Bonnie plushie and a little Freddy keychain. She had been working towards collecting all of the Fazbear plushies, having just a few more left to complete the collection.

“Today was so fun!” Abby squealed as the three of you left, her Bonnie plush in hand.

“It was pretty fun.” you said smiling, taking in the final sights, sounds, and smells of the pizzeria as you walked out the doors. The three of you somehow ended up spending most of the day there, continuing to play games and eat tons of pizza.

“You know what, I think we should do this more often.” Mike chimed in.

“Really?” you said, genuinely surprised.

“Yeah. I know it’s technically work, but this was really fun. Thanks for letting me tag along, y/n.” he held onto your hand again.

“Don’t just thank me, Abby was the one who really convinced me to let you join us.”

“I find that extremely hard to believe.” he said while bumping his shoulder into yours.

“Fine, you’re kinda fun too I guess.”

“Just kinda?” he asked raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe a little more than kinda.” you admitted. He placed a kiss on the top of your head as you reached his car.

“Y/n?” Abby asked.

“Yes Abby?” you replied.

She took the Freddy keychain out of her pocket, handing it to you. “This is for you, since you never got a prize for winning skee ball. And because you’re my favorite.”

You nearly teared up at the gesture. A huge smile had come across your face.

“Abby, you are too sweet. Thank you.” you said as you held the small keychain in your hand, giving her a hug.

At the last second you decided to pull Mike into your hug, savoring every moment of having your two favorite people right by your side. “You guys are my favorite prize.”

——————————————————————————

A/N

i hope y’all enjoyed :) depending how well this is received i may consider writing more for mike and whatnot. hopefully it didn’t feel too long, once i start writing i can’t really stop myself. don’t be afraid to lmk ur thoughts in the comments!

i thought we needed more of these kinds of fics for those of us who had our inner child healed from the fnaf movie. these r my fav kind of fics and there just isn’t enough of them 🫶

if ur one to listen to music while reading, i recommend the first 4 songs off of Mylo Xyloto by coldplay. that’s exactly what went thru my mind while writing. 🤗

[meatonfork]

Can I request the team maybe finding out grim hordes cute stuff?. Maybe something like plushies or even Sanrio stuff. They might be kinda embarrassed by it since their technically a young adult in the military who’s killed countless people but still collects cute stuff and guards it like a dragon.

Hoarder

————————————————————————————————————————

pairings: platonic 141 x grim

warnings: none, grim being shy

summary: the team finds out grim hoards

————————————————————————————————————————

you knew you shouldn’t be embarrassed by this. it was nothing compared to your job. but, you just couldn’t help it. it truly caused you to cave in on yourself.

you had been on a solo mission. just some quick intel gathering. it went fairly smoothly, and you were back at base in no time.

you were awfully tired, though. ready to crash in your bed, and sleep the next day away.

all you wanted to do was cuddle up with your stuffed animals, and get some well deserved sleep.

but, there was a change in plans. you had stopped by the commons to say goodnight to your team, but the sight you saw made you pause in your steps.

your duffel bag slipped from your hands as they came to cover your mouth in shock.

a bright red dusted your features, ears a stark pink.

“oh- hey guys, haha” your voice was sheepish, a small, uneasy smile on your face.

“what’s going on..?”

“grim. why the hell do you have all these stuffed animals? they cover the whole couch!” gaz’s voice was higher pitched, an effort not to laugh straight in your face.

the guys, save from ghost, had amusement dancing on their features.

“no, because this is really embarrassing. you weren’t supposed to know. how did you even find them?” you shrieked. you rushed forward to try to scoop them all up, but there were just too many. some fell to the floor, right out of your arms.

the bun your hair was in started to come lose from your frantic efforts.

“grim, you’re an adult. why do you have them?” price almost sounded disappointed, but he was too busy laughing to actually play the part of disappointed dad.

“look, this is embarrassing. i’m killer. but i can’t help it! they’re so cute! i get them when we go on missions. just- stuff ‘em in my pack.” you made a stuffing motion with your hand.

“now, will you please help me take these back to my room?”

ghost stepped forward, grabbing a small black cat plushie, and squeezed it lightly, “i like this one..”

“oh! yeah, keep it!” you beamed up at him.

“aye, i wan’ one!” soap rushed forward, gaz right behind him.

they helped you put them back, soap and gaz grabbing their favorite ones.

you finally relaxed, laid out on all your stupid little stuffed animals. you reached over and grabbed a little otter. his face was so fluffy.

you purses your lips. you gave a small hum.

“price never got one…”

you jumped out of bed, otter in hand, and made your way to price’s office.

price was sat at his desk, head in hand, filling out paperwork. a soft knock rang out.

“yeah, come in!”

the door opened softly, your face peaking through the slight opening.

“hey, cap. can i come sit?” your voice was soft. the faint smell of a cherry vanilla cigar danced around the room.

“‘course.”

“i brought you this! you never got one. didn’t want you to feel left out or anything… he kinda looks like ya. the eyes, man. it’s definitely the eyes.” you let out a huff of laughter.

you stuck your hand out, the otter looking back up at price.

his soft eyes looked from the small plush otter, and back up to you.

his hand went out and grabbed the stuffed animal.

“huh. i guess it kinda does look like me. thanks kid.” his head turned back up to you, a kind smile on his face.

“yeah. of course! no problem, cap. i’ll see you tomorrow.” you make your way to the door.

“hey, kid.”

your hand paused on the door, half way out of the room already, “yeah?”

“sleep well, yeah?”

you nod, “yeah.”

you give a smile, and made your way to bed.

————————————————————————————————————————

a/n: thank you for reading, stinks <3

[chvoswxtch]

Hi Court!! I saw your requests were open and I SPRINTED here :) I love your Frank fics and I wanted to switch to angst, because I’m a mean woman sometimes. I watched that movie called southpaw with the death scene and I thought that it’d be amazing with frank. Like he is in love with a very cute woman but in secret, she’s a friend and doesn’t know that frank is pining for her, but one of his enemies find him while they’re hanging out together and they start a fight and a stray bullet hits her. This is the scene (maybe it inspires you and also the acting is brilliant): https://youtu.be/bPL13UXFGr8 (minute 3:30)

nonnie...

nonnie nonnie nonnie nonnie. I am also a mean woman sometimes (so thank you for making me feel seen) and when I tell you this movie was an emotional trainwreck for me...like there wasn't a single second of it that didn't hurt. I switched it up just a little in a way that made more sense for me (I hope that's okay) and absolutely wrecked myself in the process. 🙃 I don't even know if I should tell you to enjoy or not...but...happy crying??

psa: this one is rough. if y'all thought violets was bad...this one might not be for you. this is all angst. all pain. no comfort whatsoever. if you are on the more sensitive side & need to skip this one, you will not hurt my feelings! my inbox is open if you wanna yell at me, or if you need tissues or hugs. I am profusely apologizing in advance (pls don't hate me for this one).

warning: swearing, mentions of blood & violence, death, mentions of gun violence word count: 1.7k

let that go.

He should’ve walked away. He should’ve just fucking walked away. You’d asked him to, begged him to, but he hadn’t listened. Instead he was reckless, and let that violent storm of chaos that always lingered in his bones take over, clouding his vision and dulling his vigilance with blinding shades of rage. They were just words, they didn’t mean anything. They certainly weren’t worth losing you over. But how could he just stand by while that asshole talked about you like that? 

C’mon, baby. You ain’t been with a real man before. He can’t take care of you like I can. 

You can’t handle a woman like that, bro. She’s way too damn fine for you. How about we play for her?

He was just another drunk shithead talking out of his ass, looking for a fight. You had grabbed onto Frank’s arm the second he had started mouthing off, giving him a soft smile as you shook your head slowly and squeezed his wrist.

He’s just trying to get a rise out of you, Frankie. Don’t listen to him. 

C’mon, Castle. You promised me a night with no fighting.

You had told him to leave it alone. To focus on you, and continue telling the story about how he and Curtis had snuck into Billy’s bunk one night and shaved off his eyebrows. Why didn’t he finish the fucking story? Why didn’t he leave when you asked him to?

You know what, let’s just go. I’ve got drinks at my place, we can order a pizza or something. Come on, let’s just go.

Let’s just go.

Let’s just go.

He was so close. Your hand was so soft as you held his, guiding him towards the exit of the dive bar you two hung out in all the time. The door was right there. Less than ten feet away, just a few more steps, and you two would’ve been out of there. Frank would be on your couch, right now, cold beer in hand, admiring you as you spoke like he always did. Laughing along with whatever joke you were telling. Smiling as he enjoyed how animated your hands were as you painted him a picture of whatever story you were telling. Maybe tonight would’ve been the night he finally worked up the courage to tell you he loved you. Maybe he would’ve kissed you. Maybe you would’ve kissed him.

What’s up man, I gotta fuck your bitch to get your attention?

The butterflies that had filled his stomach from the way your hand fit perfectly in his were immediately incinerated with rage as those words hit his ears. He abruptly stopped, dropping his hand from yours as he turned around swiftly to face the man, jaw setting in a hard line at the way he and his buddies were laughing.

Oh shit, there he is. That got his attention. What’s up, man?

Frank barely registered the feeling of your palms futilely pushing at his chest, trying to force him closer to the door as you pleaded with him. He only tore his eyes down to yours when you grabbed onto the back of his neck, cradling his face in your other palm as you stared up at him with an expression of pure concern.

Frankie, please. Let that go. Please, keep walking. Come on, come home with me. Don’t listen to him. Just let that go.

Let that go.

Let that go.

He should’ve listened to you. He should’ve just done what you asked. He should’ve fucking listened.

Don’t worry, bro. I’ll film it for you. That way you have a little tutorial on how to treat a piece of pussy like th-

Your voice sounded miles away in the back of Frank’s head as he charged forward like a vengeful bull, seeing nothing but red as his fist cracked across the man’s jaw, sending a rain cloud of blood from his mouth onto the floor. It all happened so fast. Frank’s fury completely took over, and anyone that dared to deter his merciless path of revenge was treated with the same unrelenting violence that surged through his fists. He could barely hear you screaming in the background, begging him to stop, pleading cries of his name leaving your lips.

But he couldn’t stop.

That bloodthirsty thing inside of him he thought was gone had only been lying dormant all this time, waiting for that first taste of crimson to reignite its craving, and now it wanted its pound of flesh. Everything passed by in a blur, and Frank had lost track of who exactly he was fighting at this point, but it didn’t even matter. His inner demons weren’t prejudiced about where their offerings came from.

Bang.

The entire bar went silent the second a gunshot rang through the small space, and everyone immediately dropped to the floor. An ear splitting scream cut through the eerie stillness, and the sound seemed to snap Frank out of the haze of wrath he had been stuck in.

Frank?

Frank had never heard your voice sound so small. He instantly whipped his head in your direction, seeming to sober up as he took in the twisted up look of pain and confusion on your face. 

Hey. Hey, sweetheart? What is it? What’s wrong?

I…I don’t…I don’t know…

Frank was over to you in two short strides, cradling your face in his large bloodied hands as he searched your face with furrowed brows. 

What happened?

Something…something happened…

As he glanced down to scan your body, he noticed the way your hand clutched at your side. Fear suddenly sent an icy chill down his spine seeing the hints of deep red that started to seep through your fingers. Tugging your wrist away gently, Frank’s entire body went rigid seeing the maroon stain on your shirt that was beginning to spread like a wine stain on white carpet. 

Am I…am I okay? Am I okay?

Fuck…fuck you’re alright, sweetheart. You’re alright. I got you, yeah? I got you, just hang on. 

A loud cry of pain pierced through your chest when Frank pressed his palm firmly against your side to apply pressure, wrapping you up in his arms as he glanced around frantically for help.

I know…I know, baby, I’m sorry. I gotta stop the bleedin’, okay? I know it hurts, just stay with me, alright? Fuck…someone call a fuckin’ ambulance now!

You gripped onto the collar of Frank’s shirt like a lifeline, staring up at him with wide panicked eyes as you started to hyperventilate. 

Here, let me lay you back-

No…no no no no, I don’t wanna lay down. I don’t wanna lay down!

Okay…okay, you don’t have to. You don’t have to, baby. I got you…I got you sweetheart, it’s alright. It’s gonna be alright.

Tears formed in the corners of Frank’s eyes hearing the fear in your voice. He held you as tightly to his chest as he could, keeping pressure on the wound. The bartender knelt beside him and handed him a rag for the blood, informing him an ambulance was on the way. 

Frank…Frank…

Yeah? Yeah, what is it baby? 

I wanna go home, Frank. I wanna go home-

Okay, okay baby. We’ll go home. We’ll go home, I promise. Yeah? 

I wanna go home. I wanna go home, Frank. Please…I wanna go home. I wanna-

Frank hugged you tightly to his chest when you started to cry, nodding quickly as his frantic eyes quickly scanned over your body. His bottom lip trembled as he leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead, reaching a shaky hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

Just stay with me, sweetheart. It’s not that bad, yeah? 

Lot…lot of blood…it’s a lot of blood-

It’s not that bad, sweetheart. Just stay with me. Hey…hey c’mon, look at me. Look at me in my eyes, baby. C’mon, look at me honey.

Frank felt panic start to rise even higher in his chest as you coughed, blood spluttering out of your mouth and staining your lips and teeth a bright cherry red. Shaking his head quickly, Frank cradled your face and distraughtly tried to wipe it off of your lips.

Oh baby…fuck, baby baby baby-no, no no no, c’mon. Here-

It’s okay…it’s okay, Frankie…it’s…it’s okay-

It’s just a little blood, sweetheart. S’alright, it’s not that bad.

Frank leaned into your touch as your shaky hand cradled his face, staring down at you with glassy eyes as his lips trembled with regret. He shook his head slowly, mumbling endless apologies as your mouth pulled into the faintest of smiles, tears turning the lingering traces of blood on your face into transparent shades of pink.

I love you, Frank.

Pressing his forehead against yours, Frank let out a choked sob as he cradled the back of your head, tasting the familiar metallic tang of blood as he gently captured your lips in a soft kiss.

I love you, baby. I’m sorry. I’m so fuckin’ sorry, sweetheart. I’m sorry, baby. I love you. I love you. I love you.

I can…I can go home…we can go home…

We’re gonna go home, I promise. We’re gonna go home real soon. It’s just a little blood, that’s all. Just a little, yeah?

Full blown panic set in when your hand slowly dropped from Frank’s face, and your grip on his collar loosened into nothing. There wasn’t anymore fear in your eyes as your lids became heavy, and your chest didn’t shake as it struggled to take in oxygen. Frank pulled you fully into his lap, holding your head against his chest as he kept a light grip on your face, searching your face fervently with denial.

No no no…no no no wait wait wait wait. Baby…c’mon, look at me. Look at me in my eyes. C’mon sweetheart, let me see those pretty eyes. No no no no, please…please baby…stay…stay stay stay…c’mon baby stay…baby wait please…no no no…

Frank squeezed his eyes shut as he buried his face into your neck, hugging onto your lifeless body as tightly as he could. A howl of pain ripped through his chest as he sobbed, rocking you back and forth in his arms, repeatedly pouring apologies into your ear.

He should’ve listened. 

He could’ve been holding you in his arms, saying hello to a new life with you.

But instead he was holding you in his arms, saying goodbye as you took your last breath.

tags: @day-dreaming-goddess @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042

[chainmailchalamet]

sugar high 🍒

synopsis: sugar daddy hs, always black n non-binary reader, established dynamic w/ some power play, possessive language, lil degradation, spit kink, mean dom(ish) hs, yktfv

Harry is…complex, by nature. He is a well curated structure of contradictions. He is a rockstar, an animal, a glossy beastly thing on stage. He glows under the spotlight, basking in all that concentrated attention with the air of a man who deserves every last drop. He is a hip roller, a tongue wagger, a dark eyed pretty boy dream. He’s sharp cut hips, tatted all over and wrapped up in glitter.

He is also a cream puff — that’s the version of him you met first, assisting a stylist on a Gucci suiting campaign. You’d steamed his double breasted coat, matched the ties to his green-glass eyes, buttoned him up all snug in his dress-shirt. And he’d blushed and dimpled his way through all of it. Told you that you didn’t have to do all that (“I kind of do, darling, it’s my job”), said please and thank you and stood where he was supposed to stand and made everyone laugh and look at him all fond because he was a professional sweetheart, an actual dream to work with. With the way he acted, you couldn’t tell he found you attractive until after the shoot wrapped and he walked up to you all bashful to ask for your number. It was the way he stated his intentions that got you, the way he said, soft and steady “anything you want, we can do anything you want as long as I can keep you company”.

He took you for squid ink pasta for the first date, because you’d never had it. He showed you how he liked his oysters (“a little lemon, just a squeeze..”) and how to tip them back into your mouth to taste them, and he watched the way your lips wrapped round the shell with a low heat gaze, kept his desire on the simmer like he didn’t want to scare him away. You let your inhibitions sink away into a glass of champagne, flirted with him in the same breath you talked his ear off about your job, about the books you were reading, about your vision for the future. He was so like you — the same raw ambition, the same comfort in the way you wore your skin that you’d both fought tooth and nail for, the same wicked tongue. You liked to make him blush, to tease him until he was giggling in faux offense (“it is not a whore house, it’s a family show, that’s the whole point!” “sir, at last show you sang the words “if you’re getting yourself wet for me”, and then rubbed your fingers together to demonstrate said wetness, those are the actions of a whore!”), until he let some of that babygirl cupcake act drop long enough to thumb some passion fruit sorbet from the corner of your lip and take it into his mouth, closing his eyes and groaning a little under his breath like you just tasted that good.

The second date was a flea market in the south of France. He prepared you with a simple instruction to pack light, and in response to your question about the cost of the train and accommodation and time off work he responded the same — kissed you on the temple and said “I’ll take care of all of it, you don’t have to worry about a thing, you can have anything you want, sweetheart”.

And then he did, took care of every detail — told your boss he was borrowing you for a shoot (“bring them back in one piece, styles, they’re one of our best” “mm, no promises”), got the both of you a private carriage so you could watch the grey London skyline fade away into lush fields of lavender, held your hand all the way, looked at you like you were the best view in sight, whisked you away to a cute little hostel where no one but the owners recognized him (the lady of the house absolutely fawned over him, called him strawberry boy, chided him for being gone for so long).

You used maybe two braincells that weekend — he made sure of that. Every whim, he tended to. If you wanted coffee, he went to the market and fetched you something freshly ground with notes of toffee and dark chocolate. If your stomach rumbled, he sat you down on the kitchen counter and fixed you lemon pasta, fed you dates by hand while the sauce settled, stole kisses in-between bites — cupped your face in his hands and licked into your mouth and said “feel so lucky, can’t believe your here, are you happy, what do you need, whatever you want, wanna give you everything…”.

You let him fuck you during that trip. After a dreamy morning picnicking with a jar of strawberry preserves and fresh bread and heavenly salted butter, and a whole day at the markets where he bought you a whole new wardrobe, gently insisting that he wanted to do this for you. “Harry, this is vintage alaïa, I don’t need that” you’d said. “You’re a stylist, sweetheart, might come in handy — and you’ve been eyeing it up since you saw it, at least try it on, yeah? See how you feel after”.

You’d tried it on, and it fit so perfect your mouth went a little dry — and his eyes on you, the way he smoothed his hands over your hips and told you that “you look so pretty, angel, prettiest fucking thing I ever saw” made you light-headed, running your thighs together in the dressing room. He liked doing that to you, putting you in pretty things, seeing you admire yourself. He bought you the alaïa, the cavalli handbag, a silk Gucci scarf — he was still polite, still your sweet thoughtful boy, but you could see through the cracks to what lay beneath that. The power he held over you, the obvious pleasure he took in being able to take care of you, showering you in nice things, the way he made you feel you didn’t have to think about anything when you were with him because he could do the thinking for you.

That’s the man that took you to bed. The one that told you to put your pretty new things away and wait for him in the bedroom while he tucked the groceries away. The one who met you with hungry eyes when he found you stripped down to your new chocolate brown agent provocateur set and kneeling on the bed and just clicked his tongue and asked you if he told you to do that. Tutted when you looked at him all confused and tried to explain yourself, shushed you and said (with the same quiet intensity as the first day he met you), “not your fault baby, didn’t have to think at all today, you’re just my pretty little doll, huh?”

that’s the Harry that felt every bit of your mouth with his fingers, pressed down on your tongue until you drooled a little and then made fun of you for it. The one that wouldn’t let you touch his dick until he worked you up so good that you thought you would cry, ran his tongue over the lace on your body, teased over every single sensitive inch of you until you were shaking and begging (“please, Harry please, just touch me, anything, anything” “look at you — pretty fucking mess for me, huh? wanna see you cry, baby, can’t give you my dick unless you ask real nice for me”).

He fucked you slow and deep with a hand wrapped around your neck, told you that one day he’d buy you something shiny to lay where his hand had been, but until then you’d just have to wear his fingers around your throat — told you that it was his favorite thing you’d tried on all day, called you his doll, his baby, his perfect little slut. “M’gonna give you everything you fucking want,” he said, licking the salt off your skin as it trailed down your cheek, pulling your head back to spit in your mouth and rub it into your tongue (“filthy thing, you like that? nuh-uh? you got real tight on me, baby, you must really like that”), rolling his hips and driving in hard until your eyes rolled back and you couldn’t even find your voice to beg him for more. “And you’re gonna let me, aren’t you? Not gonna fight me, are you baby? Just gonna let me take care of everything, I know what you need, daddy’s gonna give you fucking everything — that’s it, angel, just shut the fuck up and take it, you’re so good at that”.

He made you come like that, and then flipped you over, lifted your hips up and licked you out from the back, slapped you across the clit if you tried to run away from it, told you to “take it, don’t fucking run, gonna make a big mess aren’t you, show me, fuckin’ show me, that’s so good, you’re so good”, and then fucked you like that — pushed your face into the mattress and laid into you until you did make a mess, till you were drooling with it.

He was back in full sweetheart mode when he was done with you — ran you a bath and toweled you dry and held you in his arms till you fell asleep, kissed your head and said “thank you, baby, did so good for me, gave me everything I’ll ever need”. He was complex like that — a menace, an angel, a demon, a fucking fairytale prince. And you were lucky enough that you got to see every inch of it, bask in the flow of it.

[captainnameless]

How's your day been? If you are up to it, could you do something cute with Daniel, little oscar, and little lando? Maybe with wintery themes? Maybe cuddled up under a blanket watching a film, and one or both (lando and/or oscar) of them falls asleep?

it’s been alright, thanks for asking <3

It comes together easy enough. Lando’s getting better with asking for things, wants to have a day with Daniel before he flies off to a 10 hour difference timezone for a big chunk of the winter break.

Oscar’s added with no fuss, that way they can fly home to Australia together.

“Share, please. Lando.” Daniel says when the bag of animal crackers is snatched up immediately. It’s the ones with the chocolate bottom so Daniel can’t really blame him, but still.

“I am.” Lando huffs, sticking his hand in the bag and hold out exactly two. Oscar, bless him, takes them and even says thank you and Lando’s about to settle down with the rest of the bag but Daniel snatches it from him.

“Mine!” Lando screeches, much like those birds from Finding Nemo. “Danny, nooo!”

“If you can’t share fair, then I’ll share for you.” Daniel says simply and sticks his hand in the bag to scoop some more out for Oscar.

“That’s ok-” Oscar starts to say, already pressing himself further into the couch but Daniel holds his hand out.

“Nu uh, take them Bud. You only take two? Lando only gets two.”

“Take more!” Lando screeches again, and Daniel has to bite back his smirk.

Obediently, Oscar cups both of his hands together and lets Daniel dump the snacks into them.

The rest of their afternoon goes surprisingly smooth, Lando’s bribed into taking a nap and Oscar, the angel, agrees to lay down too to appease his teammate. He does come back down 15 minutes later, cheeks flushed and socked feet scuffing into the carpet with a “Lando’s asleep, I’m not tired.”

Daniel doesn’t push it, he’s not entirely sure Oscar regresses, sometimes he just floats somewhere in between, otherwise it’s clear he does. It’s okay for Oscar to still be figuring that out.

When Lando wakes up they decide to make Christmas cards, they’re all dipping their hands in paint to make little Santa hats and trees that Daniel takes a sharpie to after they’ve dried to write names and add a string of lights.

Daniel orders take out for dinner, and because they’ve been very good they get to eat it on the couch with a movie.

Oscar’s still in the “somewhere in between” when they sit down, Daniel can tell from the way he looks a little bit like an awkward teenager, trying very hard to not let their legs touch. Lando’s oblivious to it, leaning over Daniel to get to Oscar and actually get his opinion on what to watch. That gets Oscar to relax a little, and slowly their legs touch.

Daniel’s still surprised when, when they’ve added a blanket and Lando’s pressed himself up into Daniel’s side that Oscar’s head starts slowly falling to his shoulder, until it rests there.

Daniel peeks over and sees Oscar’s fallen asleep, his hair falling into his face, almost covering his eyes. There’s soft little breaths that leave him and when Daniel moves his free hand to brush the hair out of his face it scrunches together adorable, lips pressed together in a pout.

Daniel cannot help the coo that leaves him, getting Lando’s attention who’s now also looking over.

“He’s asleep?” He states, more than asks.

“Yea, so we gotta be quiet.” Daniel says, voice hushed, the arm that’s around Lando squeezing his shoulder.

“That’s what you get when you don’t nap.” Lando says matter of factly, face serious, shoulders shrugging.

Daniel snorts. “Please, says you.”

“I napped!” Lando says, eyebrows furrowing together and Daniel quickly soothes him with a chuckle.

“Shh. You did, you did buddy. I’m very proud of you.”

It settles Lando back into Daniel’s chest for a moment before he moves again, leaning over to press a kiss to Oscar’s forehead.

“Na night.” He whispers, then turns to Daniel again. “Do you think he wants my Yoda?”

Daniel’s face fills with a smile. “No, I think he’s got all the cuddles he needs.”

[happi-tree]

i hate accidents (except when we went from friends to this)

“Oh, god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, I don’t know what came over me, you’re just so hurt and I was so scared and I didn’t know what to do and -”

Link cuts himself off as he glances up from Taylor’s still-glazed expression to his forehead. Before his eyes, the gash stitches itself closed, the open wound fading to a pink scar that pales to white before disappearing entirely.

Lincoln remembers hearing the words “kiss it better” throughout his entire childhood. He remembers the way his dads would patch up his scraped knees with ointment and a bandage and top it all off with a tiny kiss before treating him to a hard candy from their first aid kit for being such a good boy.

Never once had Link thought that the phrase could be literal. Or that his newfound powers could make it literal.

Or: Link discovers a rather unorthodox way of using Lay On Hands thanks to one Taylor Swift, and for some reason, he can’t seem to stop finding excuses to perfect his new skills. Fortunately, Taylor is more than happy to help.

once / twice / thrice, pt. 1 / thrice, pt. 2

twice (‘cause it’s gonna be alright)

The second time it happens, it’s not an accident. 

Taylor invited Link to his house on the pretense of doing homework together (who knew saving the world meant having so many late assignments?) and maybe watching some anime later. 

It had taken Link some convincing at first, but Taylor thinks he’s finally got him hooked on Blue Lock: Keyed Up!!! (which is good, considering it’s the only soccer anime that Taylor’s watched). 

Unfortunately, though, homework comes first. Which sucks, because there are about a million and one better things that a protagonist like him could be doing, but he doesn’t want to worry his mom about his grades slipping any further.

Plus, Taylor missed an additional afternoon’s worth of classes yesterday for a long-overdue orthodontist appointment (his jaw aches at the reminder), so he has extra extra make-up work. Ugh. 

At least Link’s passable at science. Normally, Scary could make up some pretty good answers for all of them for their English work, but she’s out recording some stuff for Erica’s podcast. Normal has cheer practice, so Taylor doesn’t really have much hope for his pile of Spanish worksheets, but at the very least, he and Link are making progress. 

Very slow progress. 

Taylor accidentally clenches his jaw a little too hard, and the ache in his teeth intensifies from there-but-tolerable to fucking-hell-it-feels-like-someone-is-wrenching-my-upper-jaw-in-two-holy-shit.

He makes a quiet, whimpering sort of noise, and Link looks up from his work immediately, eyebrows all scrunched together and lips downturned in concern. It would be cute if Taylor could focus on anything other than the agony plaguing his mouth.

“You okay, dude?” he asks, shifting closer on Taylor’s king-size mattress.

“Nnnnnnn,” Taylor moans, shaking his head ever so slightly and flopping back against the pillows dramatically (but carefully, so as not to accidentally make the pain worse somehow). “Teeth hurt.”

“Oh, right, you got your braces adjusted yesterday,” Link gently moves their notebooks and laptops to the side, where they won’t get crushed. 

Taylor’s eyes squeeze shut as he tries to do anything but focus on the ache. “Mmm,” he confirms. “And I think maybe my fangs might be growing in? Hard to tell, but I keep accidentally cutting my tongue on my canines, so I think they’re getting sharper.”

“That’s pretty cool,” Link says, and the sincerity in his voice brings a smile to Taylor’s face, which he cuts off with a wince because fuck, ow, that hurt.

“Would be cooler if my entire mouth didn’t hurt like hell, though,” Taylor grumbles. 

He opens his eyes to find Link hovering over him, looking worried and… hesitant?

“Jeez, Link, I’m not dying or anything. The torment is endless and the agony neverending, but I will persevere! Ah, fuck,” Taylor mutters, pressing a hand to his cheek, which only seems to make matters worse.

Link’s still looking at him like that, though, so he makes grabby hands to beckon him closer.

“Cuddles would maybe help, though, if you’re just gonna sit there,” he offers.

“I can work with that,” Link says, laughing a little under his breath and leaning back on the pillows beside him. 

He opens up his arms and Taylor wedges himself between them, tucking his head under Link’s chin and burying the top portion of his face into his chest, right below his collarbones. He inhales, trying to focus on the smell of laundry detergent and fresh-cut grass and sports deodorant and sweat and something uniquely Link rather than the pain in his jaw, and it works a little.

Link’s arms come around to encircle him, and while Taylor can feel stifled by skin-to-skin contact (he already has enough trouble regulating his own body heat without throwing someone else’s into the mix), the way Link holds him feels… nice. Protective. Link begins to trace tiny, meaningless circles into his back with his thumbs through the fabric of Taylor’s shirt, and the sensation grounds him. 

Taylor quietly realizes that he hasn’t felt this safe in a long time. 

His mouth still hurts like a bitch, though.

As if on cue, another pulse of pain floods his mouth, and Taylor instinctively clenches his jaw against the feeling, which in hindsight was pretty stupid because it makes the ache intensify tenfold. Taylor lets out a whine into Link’s chest, clutching helplessly at his best friend’s shirt. 

He fantasizes somewhat deliriously about taking his teeth and chucking them out of his face where they can’t hurt him.

“That seems like it must be pretty painful,” Link says sadly.

“Nnnnnnnngh,” Taylor replies because yeah, no shit, Sherlock-kun.

“You know,” Link starts out, tone still soft but much more considering, more nervous. Taylor can feel the vibration of Link’s voice against the top of his head, right where it’s pressed against his taller friend’s throat. “I think I can fix that, if you want.”

Taylor pulls away a bit, and Link loosens his hold to allow for some space.

“Well, why didn’t you say so earlier?” Taylor asks. “I know I look totally awesome and composed on the outside, but I am fucking perishing inside. Yes, please, whatever your idea is, I will literally do anything. What were you thinking of, though?”

“Well,” Link says, voice pitching high, “I was thinking, I could, uh. Kiss it better? Like I did last week, if you remember that?” He looks briefly down at Taylor, as he says this, scanning his face for… something. “Oh my god, it would be so embarrassing if you didn’t remember that. Never mind, this is so stupid, sorry, forget I said anything.”

Except Taylor doesn’t really hear that last part because he’s too busy reliving the feeling of Link’s chapped lips pressed against his temple, callused hands cradling the back of his head, big brown eyes that look like black holes in the darkness of sun-off threatening to swallow Taylor completely. 

Does Taylor remember last week? That’s like asking someone if they remember that the sky is red. Taylor remembers last week annoyingly well, and he keeps remembering it, and the scene plays and replays as the hellfire within his ribcage flares and the heat rises and he looks up at Link who’s still working himself into some anxiety-ridden ramble and -

Cool it, cool it, part of his mind whispers to him. 

Link offered to kiss me, an irritatingly large amount of his brain shrieks back at him, uncool and uncharacteristically nervous and taking up more mental real estate by the second. Boy hugging me boy touching me boy kissing me?

You just need to calm down, the more rational part of his brain assuages. You’re Taylor Swift, you’ve got this.

I’m Taylor Swift, I’ve got this. Taylor mentally chants, strongarming the fire in his chest and turning the flame down to something a bit more bearable. I’ve got this. I’m popular, I’m icy cool, and anyone would be lucky to kiss me. I’ve got this.

Brain successfully rebooted, Taylor nudges at Link’s shoulder, stopping his friend’s mutterings in their tracks.

“As long as you haven’t talked yourself out of it, I’m, like, totally down if you’re still offering. You severely underestimate how desperate I am for pain relief.”

“Oh,” Link says, eyebrows drawn up in surprise. Then, “Really?”

“Yeah, oh,” Taylor echoes back. “Really. The only thing is… don’t you usually have to touch whatever’s hurt for it to work? And like, it’s my teeth, so…”

“Yeah, and?” Link prompts, like he isn’t quite seeing any problem with that and.

Oh.

Oh, Link means kissing kissing. Like, on the mouth. And to get at Taylor’s teeth… that’s like making-out-kissing. Oh, god. Oh my god, okay. This is fine. Sure! Great.

“Oh,” Taylor says aloud. Then, “Okay!”

“Are you sure? About this?” Link questions, searching Taylor’s expression even as he places a slightly-clammy hand to Taylor’s cheek, even as Taylor’s face feels like it lights on fire in response. The clear concern in the upturn of his brows and the gleam in his dark eyes has Taylor humming in assent before he realizes what he’s doing and placing his hand atop Link’s larger one, holding him there as Taylor’s gaze is drawn to his slightly parted lips.

“For the love of god, Link, just kiss me already.”

“Okay,” Lincoln says, quiet and slightly unsteady. And he closes the gap.

It’s clear that this is Link’s first kiss, and Taylor’s pretty sure Link can tell that it’s the first time he’s kissed someone, too (well, someone that isn’t his body pillows).

Link’s lips feel softer against Taylor’s than they had against his forehead. He’s tentative and shy and exceedingly gentle, and Taylor’s unsure if that’s out of the fear of causing him undue pain or if it’s just who Link is, but he appreciates it either way.

 Link’s thumb strokes delicately across Taylor’s cheek, almost reverently, like he’s afraid that Taylor will break apart in his arms if he doesn’t treat him with care. Link’s other hand comes to rest at the side of his neck, threading through the hair that’s escaped Taylor’s topknot, and the feeling of it paired with the light press of Link’s lips against his own draws another humming sound from his throat.

Taylor tries his best to reciprocate, mouth pliant against Link’s, free hand fisting in the soft, slippery fabric of his best friend’s shirt and tugging gently as if to bring him in even closer. His other hand moves from atop Link’s to cradle the back of his head and run his fingers through his close-cropped hair.

Link makes a low, soft sort of noise that will no doubt be replaying for weeks on end in Taylor’s head. God, he needs to hear that sound again.

Sadly, though, they’ve run out of air, and Lincoln pulls away only to lean back in and carefully rest his forehead against Taylor’s.

Taylor’s eyelids blink open (oh, he had closed them, when had that happened?) and he comes face-to-face with Link, brown eyes deep and dark, half-lidded and half-dazed, staring directly at him with open affection. His hand still rests on Taylor’s cheek, and Taylor can feel the stark temperature difference there, anxiety-chilled and demonically-overheated, as something flutters hard in his chest.

“Uh, wow,” Link says, quiet and very breathless, and God, who gave him the right to be so beautiful and so adorable at the same time?

Taylor draws his lip in between his teeth and is greeted with a sharp stab of pain.

“Ow, fuck, shit,” Taylor hisses, scooching back to put more distance between the two of them. “Guess that didn’t work, but thanks for trying, Link. You out of spell slots or something?”

With Link’s complexion, it can be difficult to tell when his friend is flushed or flustered, but his wide eyes and cringing expression definitely come across as embarrassed.

“No,” he replies, voice a few octaves higher than normal. “I, uh, forgot? To do the spell.”

At Taylor’s quirked eyebrow, Link elaborates, “I just wanted to make sure I didn’t accidentally hurt you more, and then I got so wrapped up in that that I guess I forgot, and then you did that thing with your hand in my hair, and -” he cuts himself off with a whine, covering his eyes with a hand and dramatically rolling over, the picture of mortification. “Kill me now.”

Taylor laughs, loud and sudden and sharp despite the pain, and Lincoln curls a little further into himself. 

“I can just, uh - I made it weird, I can just go, I guess?” Link says in that reedy, nervous way of his, voice cracking toward the end as he sits up, moves to stand -

“Dude,” Taylor clambers across the mattress after him, grabs his wrist. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“I-“ Link gestures with his thumb toward the door. “Home? I mean, I screwed up, and you laughed, and now you probably think I’m so stupid and-“

“Hold up, handsome,” where did that pet name come from - “I wasn’t laughing at you- I mean! I was,” Taylor watches as Link’s expression droops further “- but not to make fun of you! It’s just…” Come on, just say it, you’ve never had trouble speaking your mind before - “endearing.”

Link looks more confused and anxious than anything, but that’s better than sad and anxious, so Taylor takes that as a win. 

“Plus, you’re not getting away from me that easy, Li-Wilson,” He adds, tugging his friend a little closer. Link doesn’t resist it.

Taylor allows a smile to pull at his lips, only flinching a little bit at the pain he now expects. “You can try again, you know,” he offers, looking up at Link through his lashes. 

“I can?” His friend asks, skin flushed darker across his cheeks. “I didn’t make it too awkward?”

“Nope!” Taylor responds, popping the “p.” 

“Nothing awkward about a good old-fashioned makeout session with your best friend!”

“Best friend,” Link echoes, “Right…”

“C’mon,” Taylor goads, crooking a finger toward him as he smirks. “I don’t bite.”

Taylor’s gaze lowers from Link’s face and rests at the side of his friend’s neck, taking note of the sparse freckles there. His teeth feel a little heavier in his mouth.

“Not unless you want me to,” he murmurs. 

“What?” Link asks, sounding strangled. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Taylor evades.

“If you’re really sure -“

“I am,” Taylor confirms, moving to sit half-gracelessly in his friend’s lap, hands steadying his weight on Link’s strong shoulders. “Now, less tally-talky, more smoochy-smoochy!”

“So demanding,” Link teases, even as he threads his fingers through his hair again. Taylor can hear the smile in his voice without having to look - which is good, because if he did, he’s pretty sure he’d give into the impulse to kiss the curve of his lips without preamble.

“You bet.” Taylor’s voice comes out much breathier than he expects as he meets Link’s eyes. “Don’t forget the spell this time!”

“I won’t! Probably.” 

Just like before, Link leans in again, and a slight smile pulls at Taylor’s lips as he meets him halfway. 

The sensation of Link’s lips against his own is a little less foreign now, a little less startling. Taylor lets himself melt into it, and just before he closes his eyes he can see the adorable little furrow of concentration between Link’s brows that he gets whenever he’s casting something. 

Kissing his best friend tastes like vanilla chapstick and Taylor’s favorite soda. Link had snagged a bottle of lychee Ramune out of his hands earlier, saying something about how carbonation was bad for braces and offering his homemade sports drink instead (which hadn’t tasted too great but wasn’t quite as bad as Taylor had expected). Taylor finds that he doesn’t really mind, now - not when the flavor is even more addictive this way.

Link’s hands come up to cradle the sides of Taylor’s face like some sort of fairytale prince, firm and gentle and insistent all at once. The soft pressure of his friend’s fingertips ghosts along the jut of his jawline, and it’s almost worshipful, like Link sees Taylor as someone to be adored. 

The tenderness of it all sends a thrill down Taylor’s spine, and then the chill spreads, unfurling itself through every nerve. 

Taylor has been on the receiving end of Link’s magic before, but he’s rarely lucid enough to appreciate it, to bask in the comforting coolness his friend’s Lay On Hands brings. It’s less like running an open cut under cold water and more like a fresh breeze in the middle of a stagnant summer afternoon, he thinks, something blissful and relieving that reminds him of safety, just like the boy he’s kissing. He falls forward into the embrace - both the spell and Link’s affection - as his hands tangle themselves in the back of Link’s athletic shirt, chasing the feeling. Link’s magic is a deeply soothing sensation, a balm to Taylor’s flushed cheeks and fire-bright nerves and burning heart, and he can feel himself melt in Link’s hold, his thoughts reducing to little more than a warm haze against his lips.

Link pulls away after what probably amounted to only a few moments, and Taylor leans after him on instinct. His eyes flutter open just in time to see Link gazing down at him fondly through his lashes, the last dregs of his magic sparking across his irises in anvil-sharp flashes of bronze before fizzling out entirely. His lips are slightly kiss-bruised, and it sends a jolt of satisfaction through Taylor’s stomach as he realizes that he did that.

“Did it work this time?” Link asks him, still cradling Taylor’s face in his hands, thumbs still grazing lightly across his cheeks.

It takes a few seconds for Taylor to register the question, then a few more as he prods at the back of his teeth with his tongue, clenches his jaw experimentally.

“Looks like it!” He confirms happily, though his joy sours a bit as Link’s hands leave his face to lean back on his arms, mourning the loss of contact.

“You’re a genius, Link,” Taylor praises, smiling and then smiling wider when he realizes that he feels no pain whatsoever. “Think you could do that again whenever my joints are acting up?”

He doesn’t really mean it - of course, a bigger part of him than he’d like to admit does, but his tone was supposed to come off as teasing - but Link’s eyes go wide and his cheeks darken further, and maybe Taylor wouldn’t mind at all if his friend takes that one hundred percent seriously.

“I- I mean, if you want t- If it’d help?” He fumbles, face flushing further as he stutters. It’s pretty commonplace to see Link a bit flustered, but it’s different when Taylor knows that he’s the reason for it. It’s pretty cute, in his opinion. 

“It’d do more than help. Chronic pain sucks ass, but you’d be, like, my personal angel,” Taylor says, looking up at Link. 

You already are, his mind adds for him. 

“Sure, then. Anytime. Uh, that’s what friends are for, right?” Link asks, those big brown eyes of his searching Taylor’s face for something.

He said “anytime”, is Taylor’s only coherent thought, one that runs giddy circles in his brain. I kissed Lincoln Li-Wilson. Twice. I just kissed my best friend twice. He said he’d kiss me again. God, I want to kiss him again. 

“Mm,” Taylor half-responds, still reeling from the way Link’s hands carded through his hair and smoothed over his cheeks and the way their lips slotted together. 

“Oh,” Taylor hears Link say distantly. “Okay, that’s, um. Okay.”

“Mm,” Taylor hums again, still in the process of rebooting what’s left of his brain.

A hand waves in front of Taylor’s face. “Taylor? You okay there, buddy? Did I do the spell wrong somehow? Please tell me I didn’t break you.”

You can break me anytime, Taylor thinks, mind conjuring images he definitely should not be having this close to the subject of his fantasies.

Taylor shakes his head in attempt to clear them. “All good, my man! Just, uh, thinking.” He desperately hopes his face isn’t as red as it feels.

“Wanna get back to homework, then?” Link says, gesturing to the pile of notebooks. “I think one of our make-up quizzes is due tonight.”

“Oh, shit, I forgot about that. We should probably get back to studying, huh.” He scoots away from Link to grab a notebook and his laptop, and for once in his life he misses the body heat of having a person next to him.

“Okay,” Link says, patting the empty space next to him and propping himself up against Taylor’s headboard.Taylor complies, settling himself into place at his side and handing him a pen (ballpoint, blue ink, Link’s favorite kind). He finds his own (a click pen, black gel ink) after a few moments of feeling around on the comforter.

“We’re still on chapter seven, right?” He asks, chewing on the end of his pen as he attempts to decipher the chicken scratch that is his own handwriting. 

“Unfortunately,” Link sighs, slinging his left arm around Taylor’s shoulders. 

As Taylor leans into Link’s side, he thinks that even though make-up work is bound to be hell, there are much less fortunate things than this. He smiles to himself, and it doesn’t hurt one bit.

[klausysworld]

hello !! i was wondering if you could do a friends to lovers angst with a happy ending fic with klaus and gender neutral reader??

Always and Forever.

Being Klaus Mikaelson’s best friend has its issues lets say. You know with the permanent target on my back and his siblings always needing me to sort him out. It gets a little ridiculous. But i kinda signed up for it so eh what you gonna do?

Im a werewolf, Klaus and i met through Hayley when she wanted me to help look after Hope. Once Hope was born the Mikaelsons began taking out their enemies one by one so that when Hope grows up she can be safe. I’m an emotional support animal for them most of the time and i got used to that role. They all tell interesting stories anyway as they’re like a million. Klaus has just always been my favourite though, like have you seen him?? yea he’s fucking hot. Accent? to die for. He paints his feelings and is a great dad, if i didn’t know he was a psychotic serial killing original hybrid id be screaming husband material…sooo

So i have like a teensy crush on him. It’s not like im gonna get with him though, its just a you’re cute and i see you all the time and you make me blush and make me feel butterflies in my stomach and i think about you all the time kind of thing you know?

doesn’t matter. Anyway… right now im sat with hope in the play room. We’re both sat on a big beanbag reading kids books, she’s learning how to read and spell so it’s fairly amusing listening to her pronounce it.

Halfway through the book there was a loud slamming and a mix of all the siblings yelling, Klaus’s being the most heard as usual

“hope honey? you keep reading okay? im gonna be right back yea?” i told her and hiss her temple

“bye bye y/n, don’t get mad at dada he gets sad when your mad” i smiled at her and waved as i closed the door so she couldn’t hear the argument

i made my way down the stairs and to the main room where Klaus was pointing a dagger at Rebekah while Elijah was cautiously making his way closer to Niklaus

“ah shit” i whispered but they all heard me and heads turned to me. Klaus visibly gulped and hesitated when on his grip of the dagger, he didn’t like me to see his violent side knowing that i was someone who actually liked him it scared him that i would leave too

“love, you need to go back with Hope for a bit please.” i kept my eyes trained on his as i neared the situation, Elijah took a step towards Rebekah so they could make a run for it when Nik was in a less aggressive position

“can we talk about what you want to do before you do it? Hopes waiting for you, she wants to read you a story, she’s getting really good at her big words now” i could see his face softening, he glanced at the floor for a second before nodded stiffly, i put my hand out and he dropped the dagger into it, the other siblings sped out of the room immediately.

i took his hand and lead him up the stairs i stopped outside the play room and looked at him for a moment

“you can’t go in mad you know that…” he kept his eyes down as he nodded, it was then that he sniffed and i noticed the tears in his eyes

“hey, it’s okay, come on, come here” i brought to his room instead and sat him down on his bed, i put the dagger somewhere on his shelf and moved to lay down on his bed, i tugged his arm making him lay with his head on my shoulder and his arm across my body while he curled into my side. i pet his hair and rubbed his back

“don’t be sad honey, you’re too pretty to pout” i felt his tears hit my skin and held him tighter

“i can’t keep either of you safe, not…you and not Hope, i c..i can’t” i kissed his head softly and squeezed his arm

“you are doing such a great job nik, Hope and i both know how hard you’re working, everyone is gonna keep her safe, you are doing so well, i promise you that” he made a little noise, somewhat like a whimper that i don’t think he meant to let out

“but you’re not safe, you’re never safe anymore. It’s because of me and we both know that” i shook my head and sat us both up, i cupped his face between my hands and stroked his stubble

“im here by my choice, i want to be here. You don’t need to worry about me okay?” tears seemed to never stop falling from his pastel blue eyes

“i can’t lose you” he whispered making my heart break, i brought his face closer to mine and kissed his forehead

“you won’t, im staying”

“you promise?”

“you want me to give you my word all Elijah style?”

he laughed at that and nodded resting his head against mine

“i, as an honorary Mikaelson, give you, Niklaus Mikaelson, my very special, ultra powerful word that i will never, ever leave you. I love you.” he was smiling wide and laughing

“mmm that was very ultra specially powerful i must say, and i love you too” i laughed with him and wrapped my armed around his neck

“mm yes Mr Mikaelson only the uttermost best for you, my lord” i spoke in a mocking accent and threw my head back dramatically

“you are amazing you know that?” he spoke in a hushed tone and i nodded with a warm smile

“I love you.” his face was serious as he said it making me giggle

“uhuh i love you too we say it all the time” he shook his head and pulled me closer

“you don’t understand, i love you, not like you’re my friend and i love you like, i want to be with you and marry you love you!” he didn’t give me a chance to respond before his lips were on mine, i kissed back as fast as possible as we melted against each other

“i love love you too Nik, remember if you marry me its gotta be always and forever though and i expect a ring” he chuckled to that and nodded hastily

“ the best ring, the best dress, the best everything for you my love, always and forever”

i was smiling ear to ear as i nodded

“We need to go see Hope”

“I think she’s listening at the door..”

little giggles sounded through the room as she launched herself at us both

“i wanna be a flower girl!!”

we all stayed up late reading stories with hope and looking at engagement rings, supernatural war or not, we would stay together. Always and forever.

[inkwolvesandcoffee]

TH Characters & WoW (World of Warcraft)

TH Masterlist

Eddie Brock

There is no end to their bickering. Each play session is filled with what others may think are progressively more aggressive monologues, but you know are essentially Eddie and Venom being like an old married couple.

It all started when you booted up the MMO to play together for the first time. Eddie was immediately drawn to the Pandaren race and Druid class. Unfortunately, the symbiote had other preferences, namely playing as a Draenei Rogue.

“But they’re pandas! Look at how cute they are!” A moment of silence. “They are *not* prey! They’re vicious killers, if need be, but they’re also endangered.” Another moment of silence. “Druids are cool because they can change into all sorts of animals.” Venom evidently wasn’t convinced. “I know pandas are animals, but these are Pandaren. That’s different.”

“Uhm, are we still gonna play or sit here all night? If so, I’m just gonna play on my own,” you cut in, growing impatient.

Before you knew it, you had a Pandaren Druid by your side. However, the session thereafter, you had a Draenei at your side.

“He thinks they’re cool because they’re similar to aliens,” Eddie explained with a light grumble.

Race & Class: Pandaren Druid & Dranei rogue

Alfie Solomons

Is it any surprise Papa Solomons is against night time gaming? Alfie will not so subtly close your laptop, regardless of whether you’re doing or a dungeon or not, when you don’t heed his warning of “ten minutes, no more, because you know blue light’s bloody bad for your eyes and sleep.”

If you have a PC, he’ll perform a hard shut off. Say what you will, but he’s handy enough to know how to do one.

Despite his strict gaming rules, Alfie will make sure that whoever you’re playing with can hear him in the background, especially if it’s a guy. That being said, if it’s a dude you were playing with, Alfie won’t tell you to never do so again. He’d never even get it in his noggin to shut you out from other people.

Though he does like to remind you of who you’re with in the bedroom.

Still, Papa Solomons love his ‘little nerdy dove’ to bits and pieces. But not enough to pay for micro transactions. Sorry, you’re on your own when it comes to that.

If he played, he’d be a Night Elf Warrior. Or so he claims, but you think he fits the grumpy Tauren Hunter character better.

Race & Class: Night Elf Warrior or Tauren Hunter

Tommy Conlon

Tommy is the last person to comment on your sleeping schedule and to not come across as hypocritical, he lets you have your WoW night sessions. There’s one condition, though. Keep it down or the PC/laptop will be turned off and forfeited for three days.

He made a promise to himself as a young kid to never become like his father, to never be as devoid of love and responsibility as Paddy. To love his girl right. Henceforth, Tommy makes sure you know he holds nothing but affection and adoration despite his occasionally gruff demeanour.

Many a night he drapes a blanket over your shoulders to prevent you getting cold, more often than not followed by a kiss to back of head. In answer, you lightly squeeze his hand, reassuring him of your love and appreciation in return. It’s through small acts like these you have built and continue to build your relationship.

He likes to watch you play, but is still a bit hesitant to try it himself. Currently, he’s thinking about trying to play as a Worgen Death Knight.

Class & Race: Worgen Death Knight

Forrest Bondurant

Forrest has gained a reputation as your mysteriously silent and stoic boyfriend among your fan base. Everyone fawns over because he brings you snacks, water, tea, or coffee. However, if you want the latter, you’d have to ask really nicely because caffeine on top of blue light is something Forrest tries to protect you from as much as possible. Occasionally, especially if you’re streaming at night, he’ll pop by to drape a blanket (he crocheted) over your shoulders.

Nevertheless, the chat had never exploded to the degree it did last night. They went positively wild when Forrest brought you tea with a slice of homemade apple pie and sat down next to you.

“What’re you doing?” Frowning, you tried to read him and discover the reason for this sudden change in behaviour. Normally, he’d pop by and leave in an instant without so much as a word. A pat on the head at most.

Forrest remained quiet, but below the desk you felt him gripping your thigh.

“Jealous someone will try to be my player number two?” you whispered.

Forrest vaguely nodded then settled against you, shoulder to shoulder. “Eat your pie before it gets cold. Don’t want no ruining food.”

And thus he sat there like a stoic bear for the rest of the stream, though he did only leave once to clear the dishes from your desk and return with a bottle of moonshine and two glasses.

During your rare private sessions, Forrest plays either as a Human Hunter or, surprisingly, Dwarf Hunter. He likes the fact you get to keep an animal companion and shoot with a crossbow. Indeed, he’s not one for guns, though he will use one when it’s better than his current bow or crossbow.

Race & Class: Human Hunter & Dwarf Hunter

Tag list: @hecatemoon87 @buttercupsandboys @liliac-dreamer @potter-solomons @vir-tual @babaohhhriley @hoodeddreams13 @mollybegger-blog @rose-like-the-phoenix @dreamlandcreations @zablife

[nokonomi]

Wild Kratts OC: Clara Nightingale (created by Nokonomi, Wild Kratts fandom, assemble!) <3

Ah yes, Clara Nightingale. A very fragile and angelic young girl with pure voice and good talent; such a good and well-behaved young 9 year old girl. But is she REALLY the Angel we all see and love and trust?

Clara Nightingale is a famous 9 year old actress in Hollywood, known for her “love of animals” and how she treats them right. She first encounters the Kratt brothers in an episode where she was interested in them helping her with filming and bringing her some animals for the show. They agree firmly and say no harm. Later she is seen with Spots Swat and Little Howler, with makeup plastered all over their face, doing little tiny tricks for her while she drinks a cup of tea.

Now the Kratt brothers found that this footage was released in public, and they found out she wants to keep Spot Swat and Little Howler as pets for the rest of her life. Now the Wild Kratts are on a mission to find those two and stop her from taking them away from their natural habitats.

In a later episode, she is seen filming something, but is disturbed when Chris enters her while she is filming a scene, and says to simply “stop using animals for production films and let them go” and she says she wasn’t even planning to. She gets angry when things get ruined by Chris and she blames Zach, who is there as well, and she manages to scare him off. Wow! Pretty scary and angry at the same time. Don’t piss off this child!

Anyways all the villains were at the production scene helping her film, and she films a scene where some other baby animals are forced to do tricks under her command, using Zach’s machinery to control their minds.

Up in the clouds, in the Tortuga, Aviva is watching this scene unfold. She warns Chris and Martin not to try and mess with her too much, or she might call upon her “bodyguard” to help fight back the Kratt Brothers.

Chris and Martin activate falcon powers to save the animals, and are too late unfortunately, but they managed to save some of the baby animals except for Spots Swat and Little Howler, who are crying, which Clara silenced them angrily. Chris and Martin explain that this is animal cruelty and she shouldn’t be using them for film productions at a very young age, and she should change her way.

Martin:

“We understand, you want them as pets, but you could’ve just bought a cute dog, cat or maybe even a hamster at your local pet store! Easy as cake. They belong free and-“ (imagine getting cut off by a 9 year old)

“—-IN THE WILD BLAH BLAH BLAH NO NO NO NO!!! I WANT MY BABY ANIMALS AND I INSIST KEEPING THEM AS PETS! I WILL NEVER LISTEN TO YOU, CRAP BROTHERS! BLEHHHHH!”

Of course, it’s not going to be easy, because when she snaps her fingers, multiple of her strong, tall and muscular bodyguards come, some of them easily manage to take down Martin, but Chris fights back and ends up destroying them with Rhino powers. She gets angry and starts storming off into her dressing room, and she calls the big guns.

(yes this is a reference to that one Max Butler scene in Cats don’t Dance)

Clara calls upon her biggest and baddest and toughest bodyguard, who measures about 10ft tall, not very normal. I know this isn’t normal heights for humans, but please, bear with me at least! Very lean and bad, he comes forward and manages to break through the wall of the giant set, and the bodyguards all stand aside for the one bodyguard she trusts in the entire world! Yes I know it’s cringe but bear with me she is Darla-Dimple based.

“Yes Ms. Nightingale.” “Rudy, get rid of those pesky wild kratts for me while you can, they’re a nuisance to this production of mines and I would like you to take care of them!” “Of course, Ms. Nightingale.”

So of course, Rudy walks very slowly and aggressively toward Chris and Martin, grabs them and squeezes them to a pulp, and manages to make them speak.

“Speak when spoken to.” “Hey, Rudy! I uh—-don’t mean to interrupt but uh—ehe- if you could just let us go we could maybe try and find a discussion! We just want you to let us take the baby animals to their natural habitat because Clara is being a real meanie to them right now.”

“SILENCE.” “What does the kitty cat say?” “Uh….gulp? Martin?” “Uh……Meow?” “VERY GOOD.”

And so with that; he crushed them and squashed them until their a ball and roll into the floor, they don’t get any injuries luckily. Just get jumped into the floor and fall through it. Rudy checks to see if there is anything else Clara needs, and Clara says in an angelic, sweet and innocent voice…

“That’ll be all for today, Rudy!” *pat pat*

Meanwhile, the Kratt Bros get rescued, and end up returning some of the other baby animals to their natural habitat, but Spot Swat and Little Howler are still with Clara, not in their natural habitat. The Kratt Crew makes a plan to try and stop her from using animals for her shows, so they devise a plan. Aviva does her usual invention stuff and makes special creature power suits that could save the cheetah cub and the wolf cub.

Tune in to Part 2 to see what they are planning next, meanwhile, have some little known information about Clara Nightingale.

INFORMATION ABOUT HER:

Name: Clara Nightingale Wilson

Age: 9 years old

Gender: Female

Zodiac: Capricorn

DOB: November 15th, 2013

Born in: Hollywood, Los Angeles, California

Role: Rolemodel, Fashionista, Actress

Other occupation: Villain/Villain Industry

Personality: A very sweet, fragile and young girl who is desperate for attention and fame, unlike the adult villains who search for money. She already is rich and just needs the fame.

A very energetic and annoying little girl, but in public she is usually seen putting on an angelic and rather innocent persona she claims as ‘The Little Angel from Heaven’ which she has a movie she acted in which was called that, and she is famous for being the youngest actor in the Hollywood Industry.

Outside though, she is not that demure and cutesy, and she is often portrayed as a monster to the people who are assigned to her, they just don’t show it to people because they know there will be consequences. Her bodyguards are the only people close to family, including Rudy, her one and only #1 bodyguard.

Angst: At a young age, her parents had often fought a lot because of their arranged marriages they had with each other. They didn’t even love each other and she thought they did love each other, but they didn’t. And they didn’t even love her either, never accepted her. In real life, in person, she was desperate for someone to care. Someone to love and finally appreciate her true self. She wanted people to film the real her. When she discovered animal, she knew they could make her happy, and she hired multiple exotic animals from around the world to help her.

Which resulted in the Wild Kratt’s having issues with her all the time, exceptions are Zach as half of the issue all the time. But she never really learned what family really meant. In her heart, laid a cold and heavy brick stone, which crushed her heart and turned her into what she is today. She doesn’t live with her parents anymore and constantly has to remember the traumatizing memories. At a young age, she secretly got therapy, and hid it from the rest of Hollywood, Los Angeles. Because she didn’t wanna ruin her reputation, so they kept it secret. She paid THEM to keep it a secret.

Exposing the therapy sessions would result in her having to retire because she would not be in the right state of mind to carry on all her films, and it stressed her out all the time. But in the public. She hid it all with just one innocent and cute smile, deep down inside the little girl was waiting for a bright light to shine.

When she saw how happy the Wild Kratt’s were with each other, how they all bonded, she was desperate, HUNGRY even for that bond…..She wanted to take the happiness away from them and give it to her own selfish desires so she could finally be herself. Finally not chase this undying wish of having family. So she knew stealing animals would probably make them pay more attention to her.

“I wanted to have what you had. That familial bond you had with your friends. I wanted to take it all away from you and watch you pitifully exhaust yourselves with anger and desire, and give me attention! I wanted the family bonds you had with them! The Wild Kratts! I wanted what YOU had, Chris Kratt!”

-Clara Nightingale. A break down she had while she was talking to Chris Kratt and how jealous she was of him and his friends for having such happy lives.

Now that will be all for today, and I appreciate you all reading this! It was fun to sort this character together, the angst and the villainy inside of Clara. Hopefully she gets some fanart as well. I might describe what she looks like later so right now just imagine! :)

Have a good day! Bye!

(Spoiler: Some Voice Claims I might give her)

VA #1: Darla Dimple (Cats Don’t Dance)

VA #2: Enid Sinclair (Wednesday Addams)

VA #3: Sally Williams (CreepyPasta)

[nickloonie]

Back at it again hi hello

I was at Justin’s stream a couple days ago and somebody asked a question about Knife and it led to a discussion about hugs

Knife is apparently not a hugger lol, however he will hug someone if he is close to that person and if he thinks it’s the right time — which is really interesting to me because I’m reading it as “Knife values physical affection a lot but reserves it so it’s more meaningful”

It could also be just “Knife doesn’t like touching people” 😭 maybe it’s both

With Suitcase, tbh I think she’s absolutely touch starved yet loves physical affection, but also doesn’t like people touching her most of the time either. (something something trust issues something something) but when she does want somebody - she will try to be direct

*Both of them have trust issues actually

Knife is arguably bashful when it comes to expressing affections, so I like to think after these two get close the only time Knife will hug Suitcase is if she asks 😭

And Knife knows he’s bashful too and is frustrated at himself for it — this should NOT be this hard — but it is, y’all know the trope of “one fell first but the other fell harder” that’s knifecase imo :3

Both of them want to take it further (further as in one small hug… to cuddling 😱😱😱) but they lowkey kind of stupid with love

Comedic knifecase where Suitcase was going to ask Knife if they could hug, she gets caught up in her own thoughts and forgets so now she’s just staring a Knife like “😐” without realizing

Knife on the other hand will just pop by, pat Suitcase on the head for a couple seconds and then scurry off like a wild animal

Idk if this is out of character for these two but in my defense — love makes people act stupid idk

Eventually they both get there after many shenanigans ensue — so hooray movie night ‘n cuddles on the couch :3

Should also clarify this is all happening in private - neither Knife or Suitcase are big on PDA (public displays of affection) but the one thing they’re both okay with doing in public is holding hands (in this case, handles)

Anytime one of them notices the other getting upset they’ll go over and either squeeze their handle (Knife) or give them a nudge (Suitcase) as a silent way to say “I’m here”

(Also it’s really funny to imagine Knife being a drama queen™️ and have Suitcase drag him along while he’s still holding onto her handle)

We need more of Knifecase being idiots idk

But yah uhmmm here is your dose of autism byebye :3

— 🐚🦈

YAYYY YOURE BACK HOORAY THIS IS SO GOOD

oh my gosh i agree. also thi shas motivated me to make a stupid with love animatic i love meangirls i love knifecase..... alas i do not have motivation for something that long BUT I MIGHT! they are so cute and corny yes i agree with everythign...

NO PDA!!!! but they are very cute in private. the farthest they will go in public is sitting next to each other on the hotel OJ couch

tehyre..s...... so cute....

[revoleotion]

december 24th

this is my gift for @cnr-golden! Merry christmas and thanks to @animes-trash for once again hosting the secret santa!

This was a lot of fun to write and honestly, I could've gone on for ages but I decided to end it there so I can still post it on Christmas. I hope you enjoy! <3

~ rev

.

To Hyde, Servamp of Greed, Christmas is no longer just Christmas anymore. It’s Licht’s birthday. And because it’s Licht’s birthday, it gives Hyde a free pass to make the day about him. 

Licht doesn’t seem to agree with him here - but then again, when does he ever? 

They’ve had arguments about it before. Both very loud verbal ones and the much more scary kind, where they would say nothing to each other for days. It might be an inherent part of their contrasting personalities, the sin and the virtue. Perhaps it is selfless of Licht to not want to celebrate his birthday, perhaps it is selfish of Hyde to insist anyway. 

It’s funny because during one of their fights, Hyde told Licht, “Isn’t it kind of selfish that you refuse a party?”

Licht only raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t it kind of selfless for you to care that much?”

Point taken. 

It didn’t feel like this was an argument they were going to solve anytime soon. But it also wasn’t a deal-breaker. It’s just one day in the year after all. Just like the Christmasses before, it will end in a compromise. Licht will accept birthday wishes and gifts, all while celebrating the bigger holiday that stubbornly lingers in the air. 

They’re both stubborn. They’ve always been. Not only that, they also get even more stubborn around each other. It’s how they show their love, Hyde thinks. 

“Why did you put the angel down,” Licht asks him on the afternoon of the 24th of December. He has his legs pulled up to his chest and a blanket draped across his lap. He looks so cute that Hyde wants nothing more than to affectionately bite him, but he can just pull himself together. 

Christmas - Licht’s birthday - ended in a compromise. That’s what they are, right? A compromise in the making. They had some cookies and hot chocolate earlier, and because it’s a tradition in Licht’s family, they will have fondue later. 

“Can’t you guess?” Hyde asks. 

Licht turns to him, making eye contact for a full, frightening five seconds, before turning back to their Christmas tree. It’s a small tree in comparison, which came in handy when Hyde stole the angel placed on top when they decorated it. 

“No,” Licht answers. “I don’t think I want to guess.”

“Well it’s because…”

“Don’t.”

“You’re an angel!”

Licht turns away and lets out a very long exhale. 

“You have to admit that this was funny,” Hyde says. “At least a little bit.”

“Mh.” Licht pulls out one hand from the blanket and reaches for him. Hyde gives his fingers a little squeeze; they’re warm and soft and, according to Licht, it is an honor to even touch them. 

“Do you want me to prove it to you?” Hyde asks. 

Licht blinks at him in confusion. He still looks confused when Hyde gets up and lets go of his hand. The understanding only settles in when Hyde picks him up and starts marching towards the tree. 

“Drecksigel, what are you doing.”

“I think you know what I am doing.”

“You are going to break it.”

“It’s going to be fine.”

Licht makes a little noise that might be a chuckle, and it fills Hyde with enough enthusiasm to follow through with his plan. 

.

For the record, Licht does look very angelic and majestic for the whole one-and-a-half seconds he clings to the treetop. 

And that’s all that counts. 

.

Licht is the first one to start laughing, a sound Hyde doesn’t hear all too often and is immensely thankful for. His Eve sitting inmidst of what used to be their Christmas tree and the presents they put underneath. Hyde’s first thought is not devoted to the damage he caused, though. They do this all the time. It’s part of them, in a way. It’s how they show their love. 

All Hyde thinks is, “I won this time, Engelchen. This is your day.”

.

“Where are we going to get a tree at this hour on Christmas Eve?” Hyde quotes the Christmas movie Licht made him watch because it’s a family tradition. (Hyde did not think about the fact that this somehow means he is family to Licht. He didn’t.)

Sadly (or thankfully), no Christmas tree bursts through their window, so Hyde shrugs and turns to the door. “Wanna look for one?”

Licht frowns. Rolls his eyes. Nods. 

They don’t really look for a Christmas tree. At least Hyde is not actively looking. They celebrated in Vienna last year but this year they are staying closer to Licht’s hometown. Both of Licht’s parents are busy with concerts but Licht, in typical Licht fashion, refused to give one on Christmas Eve. He will have some around New Year’s though, and perhaps it’s selfish of Hyde but he wants to have him for himself for as long as he can. 

There’s no clear goal to their walk, except maybe the walk itself.  Licht offered him his hand about ten minutes in, and Hyde can tell that only spite is stopping him from putting it back into the pocket of his coat. 

They stop at a bench in the town square. Licht sits down, and Hyde takes advantage of his hedgehog-form to curl up in his lap. 

“Sorry for breaking the tree,” he says. “For the record, I still think it’s funny.”

“It wasn’t.” A pause. “But it doesn’t matter. Christmas is more about the spirit anyway.”

“The Christmas spirit?” Hyde asks. 

“Yes.”

“And you think I have that?”

Licht gingerly touches him with his hand. “Of course not, you’re a demon.”

“Your demon.”

Licht’s fingers start scratching his belly the way he likes it. He doesn’t say anything, but sometimes that tells Hyde more than if he forces himself to talk. 

Still, “Hey, Engelchen?”

Licht looks at him. 

Hyde clears his throat, at least as well as that works as a hedgehog. “Thank you for spending Christmas with me.”

===

And now, an artistic rendering of the whole event: (@pinkestlittlebutterfly made me a Licht plushie and I love him and will cuddle him every night and also put him up on the tree to annoy my family)

[the1975attheirverybest]

Concept idea. The boys, basically everyone that is part of the 1975 family ,goes to the zoo. The reader is friends with them and is dating Matty as well. How do you think this trip would go?

It would ABSOLUTE CHAOS!!! Hann starts out looking after his baby boy but ends up having to supervise Matty. Cuz Matty wants snacks. The bathroom. A slushie. Throws human food to the monkeys. Wants to give the lion some beef jerky. He ends up eventually, picking up Adam’s kid and letting him do all the things that Adam and Carly are too afraid to let him do. Like stick his fingers into the animals cages. Bang on the glass so the sleeping animals would wake up and he can see them properly. Letting him feed the giraffe and scream and giggle when he sees it’s mouth open.

Charli and George are busy being hot and wayyy too into each other. They’re in their own lil bubble talking about ranking the animals from most likely to survive an asteroid or whatever, and occasionally watching Adam’s kid squeal with joy when Matty lets him do something cheeky, snd thinking that they’d like one of their own one day. Ross is somehow the one with the map like “okay the peacock is up next if we go this way. But guys, the lady at the help desk said the panda sleeps early so we should probably move fast if we wanna see it.”

Everyone’s trying to listen to Ross but Matty and Adam’s kid are holding everyone up. Matty’s always looking for his gf like “babe, come see this!” And it’s just a gorilla taking a shit. He does his little boyish giggle at every small thing. Especially when Adam’s kid is laughing. Matty finds the things that amuse kids very amusing. So he’s mostly laughing at the kid’s laughter but it’s the most adorable thing ever and makes her think that if they had kids, he’d be the best dad ever.

Jamie is peak photographer. You know the friend who’s always taking pics “for the memories.” That they’re too busy filming and photographing everything to actually have the experience? And he’s constantly making everyone squeeze together so he can take group pictures.

Carly and Adam keep handing their kid things to eat. Like little zip lock bags of animal crackers or kid’s breakfast bars or cheese puffs. but of course Matty eats half of everything because “well he didn’t want it so he handed it to me.” And it’s like, no Matty with kids, you have to keep encouraging them to eat! Especially in a new and stimulating environment. But he’s just like “okay but what brand are the cheese puffs cuz they’re actually quite good.” When Carly isn’t listening, Adam is like “yeah, I eat them sometimes when I’m looking for a late night snack.” And then start betting on which animals would try them if they threw some into the cage.

Every time they come across a food stand or some merch or whatever, Matty wants to buy his gf something. “Baby, look, you’d look cute in this alligator hat,” or “you wanna get this giraffe mug?” She ends up caving and getting a corny t shirt with a dad-joke or pun about animals on it. She and Matty get the same matching shirt. She also ends up helping Matty get Adam’s kid to sit still and get a butterfly painted on his face. Matty gets one on his hand cuz the kid wanted them to have matching butterflies. Jamie, of course, has filmed the entire painting experience. Adam and Carly and giving their kid the sweetest encouragements and compliments. “You look so beautiful. You wanna see the real butterflies? They might think you’re one of them. Baby hold still let me take a picture. No it’s fine. You can drink water it won’t ruin your butterfly face.”

By the time they get to the other side of the zoo, it’s 45 minutes from closing time and they get burgers and fries and huddle over a teeny tiny table and eat. Everyone has their food in their laps and everything is a mess and they’re all sweaty and exhausted but just happy to all be together and still do stuff as a group even as each of their lives has grown and the group has double in size cuz everyone has their partner or kid or something with them.

[charlenasaxen]

The Black Key Favorite Quotes

“I step forward. It’s time to show these girls who they really are.”

“so they thought. But the Paladin survived. We surrogates are their descendants.”

“understood myself and the world in a way I never had before”

“She holds her hands up to catch the raindrops, and I smile because she is ours now. She sees who she was meant to be.”

“this connection with one another and the world around us, it gives me hope”

“He slips his hand into mine and we walk back toward the house”

“As if saffron is something I need to be worried about right now.”

“he rubs a black-and-white-spotted goat behind the ears”

“Who cares if they are bright, talented young men being abused? They’re pretty little things who are only good for screwing, right?”

“I like animals. I’d like a life of growing my own food, making my own things. Having a real home.”

“I fall asleep with the taste of Ash’s lips on mine, and fantasies of a better future”

“Raven raises one hand in farewell. Ash stays on the porch, watching the cart until we pass”

“I’m proud of you,” I say shyly. “For whatever that’s worth.”

Garnet’s face turns an even darker shade of red.

Cora brushes at something on her cheek. “I always wondered what her voice might sound like.”

“For the love you bore her and the debt you owe me.”

Her eyes are black stones, dark and cold. “I want you to cut. Her. Throat.”

“how fragile the connection to my friends is”

“Be safe,” I whisper. Then I settle down into the pillows, sleep taking me.

“Coral’s whole face lights up when she sees me.”

“Hazel?” My voice comes out like a croak. Then I’m running.

“Even her hands are strapped down at the wrists”

“what I see makes my stomach turn.

Her eyes. Her beautiful, hazel eyes.

They’re violet.”

And my sweet, strong little sister bursts into tears.

“You’re here,” she sobs. “You’re real.”

“they started cutting into my face and they won’t let me outside and I’m always so cold . . .”

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper.

“I want to go home.”

She throws her arms around me, her whole body trembling.

“I’ve got you.”

“Mother was—” She squeezes her eyes shut. “Mother was screaming.”

“Did you come back to take my place?”

She looks so eager a guilt I wasn’t prepared for rears up.

“So . . . you would have died here?”

“Yes,”

“Am I going to die here?” Her voice is so small and frightened.

“Really. And now I can say it to you in person. Good night, Hazel.”

Hazel’s answering smile is brittle. “Good night, Violet.”

“I run as fast as I can out of the room before I lose my nerve and stay with her forever”

“He’s in the Farm. He’s happy there.”

Hazel smiles. “Good.”

“Do you expect me to magically appear in the Smoke? I do have one or two things going on at the moment.”

“a fountain of chocolate with piles of plump red strawberries beside it, trays of canapés”

“The string quartet plays softly. The open back wall lets in a warm April breeze, scented with jasmine and honeysuckle.”

“the sun begins to set, decorating the sky with streaks of pink and orange”

“crawl on the ground toward it, and find a pair of little feet”

“Cora!” the Duchess cries, seeing her cradled in my arms.

“sinks to her knees, her dress billowing out in sparkling waves”

“Oh, Cora, Cora, what did they do to you . . .” Tears spill down her cheeks as she rocks her lady-in-waiting.

blood dripping through her fingers. “Help me!” she screams.

Garnet looks confused. “Will you help me carry him?”

“Oh,” he says, quickly rubbing the tears from his cheeks.

“A vein in his neck throbs. Then he crumples, the sobs heaving.”

“I kiss him on the forehead. He gives me a watery smile.”

“the image of my sister’s tearstained face, her last words still echoing”

“Garnet’s expression softens and I feel my heart soften, too. Coral’s a sweet girl, really.”

“all around us is water. Crystal-clear water filled with lotus blossoms”

“Please, Violet. Do not let them take this last piece of me.”

“Ash sends his regards. To both of us.” He winks. “Meet me tonight and we’ll talk.”

“cute little hat with a yellow ribbon”

“tiny flowers made of diamonds and rubies”

“navy-blue silk layered over baby-blue lace”

“a deafening burst of heat and plaster and dust”

“A broken lamp. And fire. Fire everywhere.”

“Coral is pinned. Blood seeps out in a dark puddle from underneath her.”

“Is she . . . is she . . .” Carnelian stares past me.

“Dead?” Rye gasps.

“Coral,” I croak. There are more gasps.

“I don’t think they intended to hurt . . . I don’t think . . .”

I don’t know what I think.

“Poor Garnet,” Maude says. “First his father, now his wife . . .”

“I find him taking Coral’s miniature tea sets out of their glass display case, wrapping them”

“wasn’t really sure what to do with all these. But she loved them so much.”

“Coral would appreciate it, I’m sure.”

“She didn’t . . . I mean . . .” He clears his throat. “Did she suffer?”

“The moonlight sparkles off the surface of the lake”

“someone who wishes to be with us, not someone who pays for the pleasure of our bodies”

“But you didn’t love her.”

“That doesn’t mean I wanted her to die.”

“The Exetor smiles. It’s a surprisingly nice smile.”

“I remember everything about us,” she says. I’ve never heard her sound so vulnerable. “Every single second.”

The Duchess’s laugh is gentle, and full of memory

“We’ve been waiting twenty-eight years,” the Duchess says. “I think we can wait one or two more.”

“the Exetor and the Duchess back together. At the cost of my sister’s life.”

“she looks back at me one more time. Then she’s gone.”

“I wanted to make sure you could find it. If . . . if the time comes.”

“I grew a lemon for Hazel, to remember me by”

“blue and silver silk stitched with pearls and sapphires”

“Garnet’s hand moves to his pistol, but there’s nothing either of us can do”

“His beautiful chestnut topknot gone. He looks so much younger without it.”

“It should be me up there, not him. The city needs him. I need him.”

A tiny smile lights on his lips. “I am not afraid.”

“Blood stains the white stone red, dripping over rubies and golden swirls”

“can’t seem to understand the rules of a world without Lucien in it”

“I feel a soft pressure on my arm and blink up at Garnet. His eyes are filled with tears.”

fixes me with a fervent look. “For him.”

“grateful that Larimar does not seem to be invited to his own engagement party”

“I slam into it, turning the handle and pushing it open”

“Lucien’s dead,” I say, and it hits me then, like a punch.

“This is it, I think. Maybe I’ll get to see Lucien again. And my father.”

“the chandelier sways precariously over the main force of Regimentals”

“a loud crack and it falls, delicately at first, a beautiful swirl of light and metal”

“Lucien, wherever you are, I hope you’re seeing this”

“still blissfully unaware of the danger that is about to befall them”

“in a burst of dazzling light, it explodes”

“Do you think they didn’t—”

Suddenly, there is a deafening boom, and a fireball blossoms.

“Glass sparkles like fireworks in the sun”

“These stones are old and they’ve been standing for a long time”

“We are the Paladin. We are more powerful than rock and stone.

We are the protectors of this island.”

“Paladin . . . I see little Rosie Kelting’s body, her eyes vacant”

“A few other companions are fighting with him, also dressed in tuxes, looking beautiful and terrifying”

“as she falls I feel the loss of her, her bright light snuffed out”

“watch numbly as a squad of handsome young men comes through the ruins”

“Olive’s face still has the remnant of a smile, her joy at seeing her mistress one last time forever etched”

We charge inside. The frail man I saw briefly at that last royal dinner cowers.

“P-please,” he stammers, “d-don’t hurt me.”

“The home the Duchess always wanted but was just out of reach”

“What happens next is a blur. Shouts and thuds, Ash’s sword sings through the air, guns go off.”

“Snake heads with rubies for eyes. Enormous golden wings spread out from either side”

“We made something beautiful together and they took it, they ripped it from me.”

“Her eyes are bright with tears. A thick drop of blood oozes.”

“Onyx,” the Duchess says with relief. “I was wondering where you were.”

“THE EXETOR SAUNTERS OVER TO KISS THE DUCHESS ON the cheek”

“I send the bullet shooting away from me, not caring where it lands, as Hazel plummets into my arms”

Blood trickles from his mouth. “Pearl,” he says, reaching up to touch her cheek. Then his hand falls, limp.

Ash rushes over. He holds her wrist gently. Carnelian is shaking.

“It’s all right,” he murmurs.

“Carnelian sits on the edge of the dais beside Ash, still looking shell-shocked”

“Exit out into a garden filled with butterflies and rosebushes. The sun is molten gold in a perfect blue sky.”

“Raven grips my hand as I take Hazel’s.

The cliff is perfect when we arrive.”

“Hazel’s face is the one I remember, the one I grew up with”

“WE FIND THAT Hazel’s flowers are white, like mine were”

“my friends and the people I love, will last forever”

“The clocks on the wall tick casually, unaware that their owner is never returning”

“The one I thought was of Azalea. It’s me.”

“I’m glad that’s one promise you don’t have to keep.”

“I say with a wide grin, wrapping my arms around both their shoulders”

“myriad of flowers grow up over their graves, each girl’s flowers sprouting from the earth one last time”

“Yeah,” Ochre agrees. “Besides, the Society needs me.”

“I have always loved sunrises. There is something hopeful about them.”

“The wind blows sharply across the empty plain. The Wall looms higher and higher”

“everything below has turned miniature—minuscule houses, baby trees”

“There it is. The ocean. Exactly as we saw it on the cliff.”

“Garnet says in awe. Ash has collapsed on the ground, staring out at the ocean with greedy eyes.”

“But we survived.

We sit on the Great Wall and watch the sun sink lower”

“Ash’s hand is warm around mine. I feel complete here.”

“How far we have come.

I am Violet Lasting again.

I am home.”