#you got rizzed

[northopalshore]

Hmm. , Something something going on here 👀

It must be the smell of me cooking

I'm sorry lmao 🤣

[witchofthemidlands]

daemon's tripping balls & rhaenyra's kissing women in his absence. absolutely unhinged behaviour. 10/10 episode. one simply does not care about the plot. rhaenyra's a confirmed girl kisser, that's all that matters here.

[heartscrypt]

we'll get em next time guys

[dapper-lil-arts]

Fanart of one of my fave moments of a fic i read and love, "Can you see what i see?" It's just comical to me that Sunset is out here being a chick magnet, utterly oblivious to it. Good for her good for her!!! Writer is @averydays ! Thanks for writing awesomeness =v=

[sweeteastart]

Ravioli day 5 four days later for raviolishipweek by @breannasfluff

I finished this 25 panel hell of a comic. It's resolution is a bit quick but i don't think I'm impartial after spending days on it

[biolumien]

Saw some of your Hoshina Fics and it was stellar! Absolutely fucking amazing. You don’t know how damn happy I am to see Kaiju No.8 on my page. Your writing is phenomenal.

With that in mind, would it be possible to get another Hoshina request in? Preferably a Hurt/Comfort scenario. Maybe they’d have argued or something and they’re forced to actually confront each other’s insecurities. Because we like flawed adults going through their issues ✨together✨

If you’d like a more solidified vibe, try listening to Unsweetened Lemonade by Amélie Farren. It might give you some ideas!

I hope you have a wonderful day ahead of you!! :DD

notes: thank you so much for ur kind words ;-;; wahh... i love angst,... and functional relationships.... which is why i always write relationships on the verge of collapse... also thank you for the song rec!

hemming and hawing

soshiro hoshina x gn!reader theres a bit of drinking, but nothing extreme. word count: 1834

hoshina isn’t really good at communicating. for being the vice captain of a squadron of elite soldiers, where communication was often the difference between life and death–he’s really fucking bad at communication–or at least, the kind that requires you to be personal with other people.

he’s been ignoring you for days.

you’re not even sure why, at this point. you’d thought whatever relationship you were kindling was going fine, right? you weren’t exactly sure where the two of you stood, but you liked each other plenty, right? right? 

right?

so why was hoshina ignoring you? why did he sit so far away, make constant excuses to get up and leave? what the fuck was wrong with him? every time you’d grabbed him to talk–oftentimes having to physically hold him by the arm, because he’d often keep trying to walk away from you–he’d respond with one-word answers, not quite looking at you. you’d sit at your desk, so restless that your leg would bang against the underside of the table just wondering what the fuck was wrong with him. 

were his feelings a fluke?

hell, were yours?

what the fuck had you done wrong?

had you done something wrong? had you overstepped a boundary somewhere? but then again, how could you have? how could you have overstepped a boundary if he never made clear what his boundaries were? were you insane? what the fuck were you doing? or maybe the better question to ask is was soshiro hoshina worth this amount of hemming and hawing? was it worth it to lose your mind over his stupid face, when you saw him laugh at something okonogi said, or exchange quips with ashiro? was it worth it, when you knew he used to make the same faces towards you, used to look at you with something like measured affection behind his eyes–

you slam your head so hard against your desk that you can feel it starting to bruise.

no. no matter what, you were losing your mind over soshiro hoshina, damn him! damn him!

it keeps going on like this for a couple days–you try to talk to hoshina, he shrugs you off faster than any competent sentence you could possibly string together can form, and he leaves. the rest of the third division seems to notice, too–you’ve noticed twice in a row okonogi giving you a worried look. it wasn’t a hidden secret or anything that you and hoshina got along quite well, so if even okonogi was giving you a weird look…

you’d shrug, simply, give her a smile, and ignore the raging tire fire burning under your skin.

the next time you get a moment with hoshina is during a celebration party following a successful mission. you pour yourself a healthy glass of the strongest alcohol you can manage, and chug down the entire thing in one gulp, wiping your mouth inelegantly with your sleeve. and then out of the corner of your eye–

hoshina’s watching you with a half-interested look–a look more interested and engaged with you than any other time in the past few weeks–and you think the sight of that makes you angrier–so unbelievably angry, paired with new fire from alcohol underneath. 

you turn to grab hoshina by the collar, glaring up at him–

“hey, now,” hoshina says with a light laugh. “had a little too much to drink, darling?”

darling.

oh, this fucking jackass–you think you almost see red, your teeth grinding together, and you can almost feel your lips peeling back in the facsimile of a snarl. 

“you don’t get to call me that,” you whisper, voice shaking with anger, “not after you’ve fucking blown me off for weeks, soshiro.”

hoshina’s crimson eyes open a little more, staring down at you, right where your hand tightens against his shirt. you’re lucky that the hubbub of the party is keeping everyone from staring at you, which you’re furtively grateful for. you think, that maybe you see hurt reflected in his eyes, but that’s fucking ridiculous. why does he deserve to hurt? he’s the one who fucking blew you off, who didn’t talk to you for weeks despite the two of you clearly reciprocating feelings. what did he have to hurt over? 

“i’m sorry,” hoshina mutters, and he leans forward–

“don’t fucking TOUCH me!”

your voice is louder than you’d like, and that gets a couple eyes on you.

your face feels red, and you drop hoshina’s shirt. hoshina’s eyes are still watching you, his gaze unreadable for a moment before he turns to the eyes watching you, a warm smile–a clear facade, loud and clear to you, but imperceptible to most others. you know hoshina, now–you’d watched him, studied him with intensity. he couldn’t hide from you, even if he wanted to. which made the fact he’d spent weeks ignoring you more infuriating–which made this current facade, a pretending thing–so much more infuriating.

“sorry, everyone,” hoshina says. “seems like our lovely engineer here might’ve had a little too much to drink. come on, i’ll walk you back.” he looks back down at you.

his eyes have that same strange hurt still reflected in his eyes.

something about it tears your heart across unevenly. 

“okay,” you say stupidly, and you let hoshina handle your body, swing your arm over his shoulder as he pulls you up. 

the walk back sobers you up just enough–enough to realize that you’re absolutely fucking mortified–did you seriously grab him? but the better question was why didn’t he stop you? why had he just let you yell at him? why had he looked at you like that, with hurt and something like pity in his eyes? and you couldn’t even figure out what you were more mad at–

could he have done it because he thought he deserved it? 

hoshina opens up the door to your dormitory, letting you make your way to your bed. you slumped down, pressing your back against where your bed met the wall. 

“i’ll leave you alone,” hoshina murmurs. “get some rest.”

you’re angry again, upon hearing him say that. how could a guy like him push your buttons so easily? 

“so you’re just going to leave again?” you snap. “how the fuck is that fair? that’s all you’ve been fucking doing, leaving me even though all i want is to talk.  i thought you liked me!”

you hate how your voice cracks at the end, and you raise up your legs to hug them to your chest. “i thought you fucking liked me,” you whisper. “and you won’t let me talk to you, won’t let me get close–what the fuck was the point of saying you loved me if this is what you’re going to do? it’d be so much less cruel to break my heat, just say no…”

hoshina’s silent.

way too silent.

“i’m sorry,” hoshina says, and he leans down, drops on the bed next to you–the bed sags beneath his weight, and he raises a hand to touch where your hand hugs your knees to your chest–but you move away. you hate the way you almost relish in the way he seems hurt, but he places his hand between the two of you, a mediating bridge. “you can hit me, if you want.”

“what?”

you stare at him, your gaze incredulous. 

hoshina’s gaze is painfully soft, mixed with that strange pity. as if he deserves this.

“i’d deserve it,” hoshina murmurs. “i’m sorry.”

“i’m not going to hit you!” you say. “what would the point of that be? to prove yourself that you don’t deserve love? to prove to yourself you weren’t good enough? even though this is all your fault–”

hoshina’s gaze flickers at your words.

“that’s it, isn’t it? all part of your weird complex where you deny yourself things that you want!” you lean forward, reaching out to grasp him by the shirt. “so i was just fucking collateral damage to you?” you tumble for a moment, pushing him flat onto his back. he looks up at you, his lips parted for a moment. you feel your grip shaking for a moment, and your vision grows blurry– your eyes burn with tears as you shake. “i told you i knew what i wanted, you fucking idiot! i wanted you! i still want you!”

through blurred vision, you can see your tears dripping onto hoshina’s face–and hoshina just watches.

“i don’t care if you don’t think you’re not good enough,” you say through a choked sob. “you’ve always been more than good enough to me. do you get that? no, actually. you didn’t–because if you did you would have just talked to me like a normal fucking person!” you laugh desperately, crazily, almost–you feel fucking crazed. “and i’ve been driving myself mad! because of you!”

hoshina raises a hand to touch your cheek.

“take some fucking responsibility,” you rasp, tugging at his shirt. “take some responsibility for this! for what you’ve done to me!”

what a horrible thing love was.

your heart feels like it’s on fire, burned and scorched earth.

“i’m sorry,” hoshina repeats, simply. “you’re right.”

he leans up to press his forehead against yours, and you tremble.

“i was scared,” hoshina whispers. “that the things i’d said to kafka and the others–that you’d never know when you’d lose the people you love–that it’d come true. i was determined to shut myself out–make myself unknown again. i couldn’t–cross the boundary. to let myself have love. or anything like it. not from you.”

he sighs, gently nudging you to let him up. he leans close to you, presses his head against the wall to watch you. his gaze–this exact gaze, you’ve missed it. missed the way he watched you, with brimming fondness–and yet here you can see so clearly that there’s desperate pain in his eyes–bubbling and brimming just underneath the surface.

“i was struck by how much i wanted it. love. you. all of this. and i was scared because it could all just disappear so quickly,” hoshina continues. his hand touches your face, and you let that calloused touch, the familiar touch against your cheekbone, the bridge of your nose, your upper lip. “i didn’t–want to lose it. so i figured i could’ve just been happy with a little.”

“you fucking idiot,” you whisper in venomous response.

“yeah.” hoshina doesn’t deny it.

“i’ll give it to you,” you respond. “love. no matter how much you think you don’t deserve it. you don’t even have to ask.”

when hoshina looks at you again, he seems almost fractured at the possibility of it.

“i know,” he murmurs. 

“i love you,” you say, and your voice trembles for a moment. “you fucking awful piece of shit.”

hoshina laughs weakly.

“i deserve that,” he murmurs. “but i love you. i promise i do.”

you shake your head. 

“i know that,” you say. you reach out a hand to touch his face, and you can feel the smile forming on his face.

“okay,” he murmurs. “okay.”

[verawhisk]

if you see a bad btch in the water, go. the other. way.

[bibellebibuck]

Eddie “It’s in my will, if I die, you become my souls legal guardian” Diaz

Eddie “there’s nobody in this world I trust with my soul more than you” Diaz

[mctwinkdom]

New motivation to learn Spanish just dropped

[winterpantsu]

Lamb loves their spouses so much!💖 Absolutely no jealousy to be found amongst them!

[bixels]

I think getting into MLP, which reignited my shipping brain, made me realize my favorite romantic dynamic trope is the unexpected bottom. Like, Flutterdash doesn't make sense unless Rainbow Dash is a loser bottom bitch.

[just-null]

Fr bro I love your energy! Noritoshi is so pretty and so criminally underrated. Keep up the good work in making more of us lusting publicly for him. You've done amazing job! That boy well-deserved it :)

tysm!! I try to open the eyes of the public to his qualities. join my cult yall, Noritoshi is so good listen to me.

but on the topic of energy, whether you're high or low energy, Noritoshi loves it. the only difference is how he reacts to it.

Let's say you're low energy or prefer subtlety in your affection..

Noritoshi will initiate first! ..after a while... in his own way.... He needs to gather enough courage and collect his thoughts properly, then hes good to go! He prefers more subtle displays of affection too, but if needed he'll be blunt about it. He'll learn to adapt to slightly teasing remarks, going as far as to banter and tease back, moreover he's just very loving. So loving it can be embarrassing from time to time because of how intense the atmosphere can get.. the best way he can be described here is princely.

A small smile forms on Noritoshi's lips when he feels you're around. He turns to you, already memorizing each and every quirk you have so that he doesn't waste any time setting his sights on you again. His hands reach out to tug on your sleeve as he looks at you with a gaze so needy you can practically tell what he's about to ask. "May i hold your hand?" His voice comes so smooth that if you didn't know him, you would've missed the twinge of desperation it carried. You couldn't help yourself, you shook your head, a mischievous grin slowly creeping onto your lips at the sight of Noritoshi's pouted lip. Of course he'd do as you say even if it was clearly unfair, but not without some complaints. He clicks his tongue, a quiet mutter of "cheeky.." escapes under his breath. He knows you do this on purpose to mess with him, he was tempted to beg a little, but decided against it. it was an embarrassing thought to begin with. Seriously, how mean can someone be to make a guy think like this? ..Extremely, if the guy's pouting is cute enough! Noritoshi lifts his hand to his chin, thinking of the many ways he can try to get around this obstacle you cruelly placed in front of him. He leans in close, hovering next to you as he usually does when he thinks. He faces you as who knows what goes on in his head, his closed eyes not even giving you a hint as to what he could be thinking. "Ah, pardon me, I got lost in thought. I suppose i can keep my distance, so long as you keep looking at me with that charming gaze of yours." Ah, so he was just winding up for a pick up line. How lame, but.. get used to it. He's going to shadow behind you the entire day with more one liners like that unless you shut him up yourself. Wait.. was that his plan? The faint sly smirk tugging on the corner of Noritoshi's lips and the warm hue on the apple his of cheeks are all you need to figure out the rest.

If you're high energy or prefer more blunt methods of affection..

Noritoshi gets overwhelmed and flustered from such raw approaches from you that he comes off as a bit rude. It's only because you make his heart so full that he needs to shut you down or else he'll do something embarrassing!! He wants to impress you, of course he enjoys your advances very much, but it's not very slightly to see someone like him act like a crushing school girl!! or so he thinks.

Noritoshi yelps in surprise as you snake your hands around his waist from behind. He doesn't push you away or even move for that matter, he's frozen stiff. Is he still alive? Like any good lover would, you benevolently press your ear against his back to listen for a heart beat. ..You didn't hear anything until the sound of Noritoshi sharp inhale came through. That was unexpected, but it works. He squirmed a little, seemingly trying to shrug you off but quickly giving up, accepting the fact that you've got him trapped. "You imbecile, e-enough of this!" he scolded, though he made no actual effort to stop you. Noritoshi remains stiff for the most part, but looking at the back of his increasingly flushing neck reassures you that he is, indeed, alive. He's just being stubborn! Not turning or even a greeting, just rude name calling again! You raise one hand and place it over his heart to hold him tighter in your embrace. As expected, its practically pounding against his chest. He swats your hand away and finally turns back to you with those cute furrowed brows and rosy cheeks. "You're such a bully, you know that?" he huffs out, any semblance of sternness failing to take effect as his jutted bottom lip quivers. Mercifully, you finally let go and spare him by not pointing out the quiet whine he let out. He stumbles forward and turns around to face you fully, trying to keep an eye out for any more of your stunts while he catches his breath. He felt so dizzy from being in your arms, if he were held for a moment longer, he surely would've melted right then and there. Noritoshi's hands trembled as he smoothed out his clothes, his mouth opening and closing as any and all words died in his throat. He wanted to yell at you for being so forward, for giving him no chance to prepare, for letting go of him, for a lot of things..! Yet he just pouted as he tried to calm the flush on his face. His hands instantly whipped up in front of him when he noticed you took a step towards him. He can't handle another display of affection right now, he'll go weak at the knees! But how can you hold back when he's just so damn cute?

The most likely outcome is a mixture of both with a heavy leaning towards one. Either way, you're very right!! He's extremely pretty.

[azol-otl]

Just a silly little jaytim involving never died! Jason's big fat crush on his new friend.

Jason twirls in front of Babs again in case her Oracle eyes see something that he's missed. He worked hard on this, and he'd die of mortification if he there was a mistake he hadn't seen. He won't lie, he's kind of nervous about tonight. It's been...awhile since he's gone to do something social beyond school (and boy doesn't that make him sound like a loser) and he thinks he might have gotten a little too overenthusiastic about it. Well, Dick said it was fine but even after the coma Dick's only here every once in a blue moon and Jason isn't sure if he should take Dick's advice to heart when the man's been running around in tights since the day he was born. Plus Jason still remembers that Dick is a lying liar who lies when he thinks something would be funny or was trying to cover his ass. (Yes, he still holds that mask acne incident against him! Barbie laughed at him, Dick! Sure he now has photo evidence of Pizza Face Grayson, but still!) Everything fits him perfectly despite that last second growth spurt that finally started showing up. A tiny thing, barely an inch but it was enough to finally push him past 5ft so he's happy. His tunic fits perfectly and the stitching has an Alfred seal of approval. His armor is light, the leather looks good despite being made from old scraps of Bruce and Dick's outgrown clothes that have too much wear and tear to pass down. The cape swishes just the way he remembers, though a deep red instead of canary yellow. He decided against only tights by wearing some sturdy shorts over them, like an adventurer would, everything color matched for the time period. He looks up at Babs who's giving him a bemused look and he puffs out his chest indigently. "What?" he says tersely. "Nothing nothing," comes the amused sing song, the kind she gets when she's teasing Dick. "I just didn't expect this to be the result of introducing you to online gaming." Jason's cheeks warm but he has nothing to be ashamed of. Sure he's become...a geek after the accident. But he has friends, like actual friends close to his age that go to his school and not just co-workers six years older than him or a penpal from across the country. Plus Jason can admit he was a nerd before becoming a combo nerd/geek so it's not like his reputation took a hit. "Nothing wrong with immersion," he says. Babs gives him a wry grin. "Nothing wrong with impressing Tim you mean?"

And Jason couldn't even be mad at Barbie about that because she's absolutely right. Tabletop was Tim's thing, and Jason was excited to try it out, but it was absolutely a new thing for him. All of this was new to Jason. After being stuck with nothing but a computer for months on end any social skills Jason might have had have atrophied and what little that remains has made Jason the picture perfect geek. And he really didn't want to screw up this friendship when it was the lifeline that Jason used to actually talk to people in real life and not in front of a screen. Well, people that aren't maladjusted larpers punching criminals. "Seriously Barbie, does it look good? I don't wanna embarrass myself," Jason mumbles. This time Barbara does laugh and its just as embarrassing as the last time. "Ah, what's the world come to. Robin, the boy wonder himself, worried that he's going to embarrass his best friend in front of his Wizards and Warlocks group," she says wiping an imaginary tear from her eye. "It's Trailblazer," Jason says automatically, already having corrected Bruce, Dick, and Alfred about this for weeks. Barbara starts laughing again and Jason resists the urge to stomp out like a child. It wouldn't be dramatic anyhow, he isn't wearing shoes and he refuses to stomp in his fantasy footwear that's basically just a metal band around his arch for support. Once she stops laughing she finally takes pity on Jason. "You look fine Little Bird. I don't see anything sticking out, and the outfit looks amazing. Your little fey prince character is gonna knock it out of the park," she says and Jason feels warm enough that he doesn't even correct her that he's a halfling-changeling and not a fey anything, much less a prince.

 That warmth stays with him until he's in front of Tim's door. It's then that he thinks that maybe going all out was a terrible idea. He knows that some people dress up, but it isn't like a mandatory thing. And Tim didn't say anything about needing to dress up for Jason's first tabletop night. But Jason had been so excited. Tim didn't even finish his invitation before Jason already had a dozen designs scrambling in his head and started creating a character piece by piece. He was dragging out knowledge he hasn't touched since he was Robin. Fashion design, historical trends, and how to use them to create something tangible with the sewing lessons he had begged Alfred for back when he wanted to learn every practical skill he could. In case he got dropped like a sack of steaming shit. Crap what if they think Jason's a nerd? He had read that Traiblazer book cover to cover and made notes like it was a reading assignment! To be authentic to the setting! In case Tim's friend Ives wanted to "Um actually" Jason's meticulously created backstory and full lineage and npcs he built and sent to Tim weeks ago. Shit, maybe Jason's more of a loser than he thought if he thinks a wizards and warlocks group is too cool for him.

 He thinks about calling Alfred to pick him up and make a lie about the campaign being cancelled. Maybe he can persuade Bruce to send him back to public school instead of Gotham Academy. Then he can forget all about Tim and his goofy smile and how he puts his foot in his mouth and how cute he looked when he asked Jason to join in this game because he wanted to share something about himself with— Jason's thoughts are cut off when the door opens. He looks up, eyes wide with anxiety in his stupid changeling halfling outfit without any shoes because he wanted to be authentic. The guy across the doorway was tall, taller than Jason (but who isn't) and taller than Tim (also not an accomplishment), blonde with glasses. "Are you sure this guy's a senior, Tim," he says and Jason has to stop himself from punching out Tim's other friend.

Tim's head then pokes out of the door, funny wizard hat and all and just stares at Jason. For a full minute. It gets awkward fast but neither Jason or the other guy know what to say before Jason takes the plunge. "Hey, I'm Jason, you must be Ives?" he says forcing all his nerves as deep down as he can. Ives nods, "Sebastian Ives, don't call me by my first name." It isn't until introductions are done that Tim comes back online. "Hey! Jason! Wow! Your costume is really good! A changeling right?!" he says loudly, cheeks and ears a bright pink.

[overleftdown]

i finally got around to watching archie madekwe's interview with in creative company and it was astounding, for one. i geeked the fuck out. there's so much to talk about.

his and emerald's understanding of farleigh's character on such a deep level, not just what was on screen, but in his past and in his thoughts... gagged! i was very interested in his interpretation of farleigh's family; archie considers farleigh's mother as a kind of enigmatic fallen star who behaved more as a friend than a parent. archie describes farleigh's childhood as overly mature and neglectful, with the character having to experience more mature and adult situations than he might've in a different family.

another important thing archie touched on was the power dynamics between oliver and farleigh, and how threatening they appeared to each other. archie believes that farleigh didn't truly understand the genius of oliver and how intricate a game he was playing; that never stopped farleigh from observing oliver at any opportune moment. eventually, farleigh had a deeper understanding of oliver's sinister obsession with felix, as well as the way he manipulated the family. this is why, in the karaoke scene, farleigh doesn't bite the bait that oliver offers him. he's not grateful for oliver's sympathy or companionship; he's appalled that oliver would even have a personal conversation with him in the first place.

the dynamic archie describes between felix and farleigh is also really interesting to me. he discusses the transactional nature of their relationship, but also how deeply farleigh loved felix. there was also the need to learn exactly how to behave amongst the cattons; when to pull away, when to fade into the background, where to assert or insert yourself in a situation. farleigh is, above most other things, an observer. the nature in which oliver behaves in the early summer, how clumsily he navigates conversation, incited a lot of judgement from farleigh. part of it was the knowledge that oliver didn't quite fit, didn't make sense among the cattons.

archie talks about how self-serving the majority of farleigh's socialization is, at oxbridge. his opening line is entirely intended to cater towards the people he is walking with. there has always been a need for farleigh to adapt, observe, overthink. in this environment, love is neither unconditional nor reliable.

the biggest difference i've clocked between farleigh and oliver is the way they play the game. farleigh plays his own cards, he analyzes what he's seen, and acts accordingly. whereas oliver integrates, injects, and manipulates. farleigh is playing poker while oliver is playing chess.

i'm an actual blabbermouth.

[sophiethewitch1]

we've read about dick and tim being pathetic, but I wanna know the strange, stoic way Damian would be pathetic for reader if you're up for it :) I love your writing!!!

Points at camera like I'm on a gameshow! You, dear reader are lucky you came to the right blog!!!

So, we all know what cats are like when they like someone, right?? Just, following them around constantly. They don't want pets, they don't want to get picked up, they just want to watch you from a distance of five to twenty feet. Anyway, that's Damian!

He's in love with you, he needs you, he wants to keep you, but he has his pride!! Well, for a while at least. He's clingy, of course but he just... pretends he isn't?? It doesn't really work after the first few times. Pressing kisses to your forehead and holding your hand. And he'll do it while he's glaring at you.

Now, if you break up with him or reject him, you are going to see true brattiness. Monstrously bratty. How dare you? How dare you think you can leave him, reject him? He's the heir to the Al Ghul and Wayne dynasties. He gives you everything. And you don't accept it?

...Okay, you thought he'd stomp off after that. He's not leaving?? He's just... sitting outside your house...?? Why the hell is he glaring at you through your window???? It's not your fault????? Damian, however, is absolutely certain it is your fault. He will sit there through rain and snow, deliver you gifts and takeout, and wait sadly and grumpily till you take him back. And I thought he was impatient!

Unfortunately, while you saw him as a cat, he thought the same with you. While you see him as tame, he thinks of you as some wild alley cat that needs to be caught for it's own good. He just needs to slowly acclimate you to him and you guys will be right as rain. Maybe some treats will make you like him more? He'll figure it out, that he's confident of. Don't tell him he's being silly, you will just make things worse.

[llamagoddessofficial]

Still got that Horror Mafiafell Sans brainrot

---

It wasn’t the first time Sans had pulled you into his lap, by any stretch of the imagination. The wads of cash he so often put in your pocket to ‘make up’ for the time you spent trapped had been difficult to explain to the bank at first- by now, it had happened so often that the tellers just got a look on their faces when they saw you walk in

They called you by name without looking at any paperwork. They probably thought YOU were in the mafia.

It was common bar knowledge how fond he was of holding you through his meals. Nowadays, Lisa would jokingly 'warn' you when he came through the doors and his mood was visibly stormy... the deeper his glower, the more likely he was to pull you in without warning when you passed his table, those giant claws sealing tight around a body that immediately became tiny in his presence.

So you should've been used to it.

...

... Something was very new about this time. And it wasn't just the lit cigar between his phalanges, different to his usual brand of choice.

Up against his huge chest. Your cheeks were hot, your heart was thumping. His touch was... different. Sat sideways across his lap, he kept you tucked against him with a hand on your thigh. Though on your thigh was a little bit of an understatement- his hand was so huge, he had nearly all of your thigh in his hold. 

The other hand, resting on the table, had the cigar held between the index and middle finger. It felt like an impenetrable barrier between you and the outside world... his gold rings gleaming in the low light.

... Perhaps it was the position of his hand. Holding your thigh gently, but with a possessive hint in the curl of his claws that slightly pressed into your flesh. Big, warm bones, the cold metal of the rings... he was holding you like he owned you.

Either way, you were just staring at his jacket lapel. Finding it very hard to cool down. The smell of smoke and gold was overpowering.

(You’d grown pretty adept at just tuning all table conversations out, for fear of overhearing something dangerous. But today, you couldn’t have concentrated on what was being said to Sans by the other two men at the table, even if you tried to.)

You didn’t know what the meeting he was having was about, and whatever it was, he didn’t seem happy about it. But he wasn't furious in a way that would usually frighten you. His energy was much more... reserved. There was a low scowl written across his face, he looked serious, dark. The crack and his scars cast deep and expressive shadows across his face. You were protected from the entire world, like this.

... Usually, you just felt like a tiny plushie in the arms of a big child who needed comforting. Not this time. And as he brushed his thumb slowly, back and forth across your leg... the prickles ran up your spine.

What's wrong with me? You swallowed. Your heart hadn't slowed down, not one bit, hands balled in your apron. What's going on?

... You heard Sans move, above you. You couldn't help but look up at him- and his big eye moved down to you. He seemed to register your altered state, for the first time, emerging a little from his obvious frustration at the other members of the table.

...

... His expression changed. Something about him shifted, ever-so-slightly.

His grin lifted, sharpened... his sockets fractionally lidded. 

He was smirking at you.

You’d grown accustomed to gleaning as much as possible from Sans’ expressions. It was how you judged his mood, how you saw his grabs coming, how you guessed what he was trying to say with the few words he had available. 

Perhaps you were too good, now. Because when he leered down at you like that, gently squeezing your thigh... you could practically hear his words purring through your mind.

“aren’t you cute~?”

You immediately broke eye contact, staring at your own knees. But it to was too late- you felt heat completely flood your face.

... Sans returned his attention to the other people at the table. But not before he gave your thigh another little stroke with his thumb. As if making sure you absolutely knew he saw that.

...

You faintly recalled hearing that Sans, before his famous injury, was something of a... playboy. If you were completely honest, it had been very hard to picture the Sans you knew successfully wooing someone.

...

You could imagine it, now. Very, very well.