#this was...weirdly fun and satisfying to do

[rubys-domain]

so i watched this team building guide that had the premise of "make 'bad' characters good." and this is kind of a weird flex, but i'm pleased to report that i already employ literally every tip in the video pretty much on a daily basis

[dreamingkelz]

I did it!  Fooligetta animatic will be up on youtube later today!  Now I can rest

hopefully it turned out alright

have a sleepy Leo

[rinsoap]

➣ includes : brother's best friend! suna rintaro. oh and also small age gap between him and the reader, only two ish years though. LOWKEY SUGGESTIVE? one mention of the reader not wearing a bra if that is something u deem suggestive.

note : i'm so in love with romantic and sexual tension between u n suna it's so fun to write! also lmk if u want a pt2 or something not sure what i'd do for a pt2 but y'all can send in some ideas lol

suna rintaro who is your brother’s best friend… he likes seeing you around the house, ready for bed looking so cute in your comfy shorts and a little top n no bra. he likes that he gets to see what you look like everyday instead of only seeing you dolled up. he likes when you’re glammed, of course, you always look stunning. he just likes stealing glances of you do everyday tasks.

like tonight, in the kitchen far too late in the night, he’ll lean against the doorframe as he watches you make a snack. he notices the curves of your shoulders, and how the small of your back peeks out from your top riding up a little. you’re still humming the song you’ve had stuck in your head all day. you turn around and surprised to see him, you gasp, causing him to widen his lazy half smile. you roll your eyes, party because he scared you, but also because he looks way too good. hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants loose around his hips, hair messy, and a white tank top on that fits him perfectly. he looks like a slut.

“what could you possibly want,” you sigh, and he shrugs in response. “just wanna see what you’re up to”

“where’s my brother? shouldn’t you be hanging with him?” you question, pointing a strawberry pop tart at him accusingly.

“he’s asleep” he closes the distance between you to take the pop tart out of your hand, taking a rather generous bite.

“rin stop, oh my god you just ate like half of it,” you exclaim, snatching it back, “you’ve already cleaned out half the fridge, when will your greedy ass be satisfied?”

“rin?” he cocks his head, his sleepy smile settling into a smug one, “you haven’t called me that since, like, elementary school” the eye contact he so casually maintains is difficult for you to keep, and your face gets furiously hot, looking away. “yeah well, i kind of thought you were embarrassed by it, so i got embarrassed and i stopped” you try to exit the conversation and walk past him to the doorway he was just standing in, trying to signal that you were going to leave to your bedroom. he follows you, much to your dismay. he leans against the doorway, his back to it, and you mimick his action. you're both looking directly at each other, and it feels weirdly intimate. seeing each other face on meant he could see every expression on your face.

“why would you think that? i wasn’t embarrassed.” he says, his eyes scan you from your painted toenails to the top of your head, but inevitably looking into your eyes. after a beat of hesitation, he continues talking. “...you know, i had a crush on you then. i was really sad when you stopped calling me it.”

the heat in your face returns as he laughs. how can he sit there and laugh after dropping this insane piece of information??

“you’re kidding. i totally liked you back, why didn’t you tell me sooner?” you look at him incredulously, mouth agape and growing annoyed as you realize he was not as shocked finding out your feelings as you were in learning his.

“yeah, i figured. but your brother, you know? and just in case i wasn’t right, i didn’t want you to reject me and then show up at your house the next day to watch movies with your brother” he had a point. you remember those movie nights. you always wanted to watch with them, but your brother would always say no and kick you out of the room. suna always let you watch anyways, offering a seat on the couch beside him despite his best friend’s wishes.

the movie nights were not the only thing your mind was pondering on. if he knew about your crush then, did he know now? your feelings were much too complicated for you to call it a crush, and you'd like to think you've learned how to be at least a little subtle, so maybe he didn't know.

"that’s crazy. we just barely missed each other i guess” you finally say with a chuckle that turns into a thoughtful hum, glancing anywhere but his eyes.

"what? so, you don't have a crush on me anymore?" oh, so he did know. he easily closes the gap between you two, and for once, it doesn't seem like he's teasing you. "rin..." you say, mouth slightly open like you're going to add something else, but you don't. "i don't think we missed anything... am i wrong?" he leans towards, and you swear he's going to kiss you but he stops before your lips touch, "you can tell me if i'm wrong."

you grab his shirt and pull him in to press your lips against his, bringing him into a surprising, but long kiss. his hands thread through your hair, lingering in the moment. when you break away, they slide from your hair to the sides of your neck, and he has the dumbest smile on his face. "definitely not wrong."

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

vaggette toxic one-sided idea purge

how carmilla inducts vaggie into the overlords only partly for fun and velvette is so pissed off about it she plots to fake romance vaggie in revenge

and Velvette maybe might have been slightly more into her and Vaggie's rap battle then she realizes oh whoops, oh no

@barblaz-arts this is your fault not mine. Point the blame inward.

the set up

Carmilla satisfied with her investment in the hotel and Vaggie, gets her to come along to the next overlord meeting purely just to increase her new ally’s power and her own, completely with no ulterior or petty motives

Alastor horrified static twitching smile, politely raises the point that he considers the hotel to already be HIS turf

Zestial amused, tickled, and delighted Carmilla has made a friend and is finally having some fun, politely pulls out a chair for Vaggie at the table

Other overlords scared of Zestial, respectful of Carmilla, fresh from rewatching footage of Vaggie gleefully impaling exorcists with the spear she brought along to the meeting. Say nothing

Velvette arrives late on purpose bc she doesn't give a shit WHY THE FUCK IS /SHE/ HERE??

Carmilla maybe smiling just a little

The battle over letting Vaggie sit in as an honorary overlord, as rapped very intensely at each other by Velvette and Vaggie:

Velvette: Hear ye, hear ye! Look what the Carmine dragged in~

(cue music number)

Here’s a chirpy little birdy, the harpy of hell’s daughter, come demanding things left and right like her words hold any water. No souls no turf, sorry girl, nope, no seat at the table, and with one eye gone she sure doesn’t even look so able. Appearances are everything- if that’s something you can see, your optics next to ours would get hashtag embarrassment from me.

Overlords, over all you know hells a hard-ass place. Charity and mercy? Ha! Weakness and disgrace! Carmilla says she’s worthy, Carmilla made a deal, the more fights they pick with heaven the more sales for Carmine’s steel.

Don’t buy the crap they’re pushing, say fuck that and resist! We’re the power of earthly Sinners, and she’s a-

(Velvette just barely remembers her plan to keep the Exorcist intel she's dug up as a secret from everyone, fellow hothead Vees included, until exactly the right moment shows up- and being sat in the same room as Carmilla, Alastor, and Vaggie, within easy spear range, is /not/ that moment)

-she’s just some lacky with a list! We’ve got our own cred to keep up, to keep hells Sinners all in check. She’d be the collar on the leash of a royal rope tied round our neck.

Vaggie: Are you done?

Velvette: Sure thing, sweetness.

Vaggie: Great.

My name’s Vaggie and I’m busy, I’ve got bigger fucks to fry, so sorry if I’m blunt but I’ve got no time to lie- Your cred’s a bunch of bullshit. You think this is where I wanna sit? I’ve got our hotel to go home to, with heaven hellbent to destroy it.

We all saw you sit back, cowards, and watch the Radio Demon run, so whose turf really is it? Who faced Extermination and won? Who’s been there for Sinners while you’ve used them like a knife? Charlie’s the real Sinner’s power, she protects them with her life.

She’s got better stuff to do than listen to you whine, someone’s gotta hear it though, and if it’s me then fine. You’re not the worst assholes I’ve seen play with others souls, and you’re all Sinners scared of dying, so we even share some goals.

Unlike all of you though, me and Charlie we don’t have to pay and trade. Instead of buying a Sinner’s soul and time we can trust the friends we’ve made. I didn’t make them stay and fight, they gave their all for free. Who looks weaker in that light? You overlords, or me?

Vaggie: Also, you really think poking fun at the half blind woman is a win for you? Ask the corpses of the Exorcists who thought they could get the drop on me. My girlfriend says the eyepatch looks hot and hers is the only opinion I care about. So fuck off.

.....

Velvette can't think of a good clap back, weirdly having trouble thinking at all while Vaggie's glaring at her, but also kinda doesn't want the battle to end just yet

Velvette Warns her to sit quietly during the meeting and let the REAL overlords talk, then gets up close and personal with Vaggie and excuses it by whisper-threatening that it’d just take one text to make her friend Angel Dust’s work hours a living hell

Vaggie, irritably pushing her back at spearpoint, clearly resisting the urge to Stab reminds Velvette that Angel’s work hours with Velvette’s pathetic manchild of a friend are already a living hell for him, and he STILL talks back to Val anyway, and that’s WHY Vaggie is taking a seat at the overlord’s table, to try helping the other sinners that people like Velvette have left behind because they're too scared and spineless to help anything except themselves

(Ding! Bullseye)

Velvette looks actually pissed and not at all smirky anymore, leans in while ignoring the spear-

Carmilla smoothly starts the meeting right then before anyone other than Vaggie ends up losing an one eye

Velvette ends up being the one who spends the whole meeting unusually quiet, staring thoughtfully at Vaggie between making furious vent texts. She's somehow less upset about Charlie's pet murder angel sitting with the overlords than she is over losing her cool and almost skewering herself on Vaggie's spear like an idiot

That's a Vox and Val thing to do, that's why they need her, the only one of the Vees to NOT screw herself over some random looser who doesn't even like her

... but what if she could MAKE Vaggie like her?

If she could steal Carmilla's new tamed Exorcist- Charlie's right hand woman, part of why Val's toy still had a bolt hole in hell to hide in, and the only reason Alastor had met a hell princess with enough hope for her dreams she'd throw in with an overlord to finally get the ball rolling on them-

And Vaggie's switched sides before, miss ex Exorcist living in hell and picking fights with heaven. Why not help her do it again?

Poor overworked glorified secretary. Velvette knows for a FACT that her and the princess haven't been seen out on a single date since the hotel opened. With nothing else in hell for her but her girlfriend, that has to be getting to Vaggie, right? She could do with some appreciation.

If nothing else, the hell princess will probably be very sensitive to anyone else openly and personally appreciating her girlfriend. She might even do something rash, something to show the overlords and all of hell just how far they could trust in hellborn royalty.

Vaggie or no Vaggie, Velvette could work with that too.

She might even be able to blackmail Vaggie into working for the Vees, in exchange for NOT letting all of hell know that the hotel of supposed love and hope had a Exorcist stalking it's halls.

The beauty of that is Velvette wouldn't even have to sic any of her own souls on them. Just tell the Sinners the truth and watch the angry, vengeful, terrified mob tear Vaggie and everything she'd ever touched to shreds. All win, no loss. Vox would have already done it if he knew. She wouldn't mind sitting back with some popcorn and liveblogging the carnage with him and Val, if it came to it.

Ohhh but the satisfaction if she COULD take the Exorcist right out from under all of them...

And having an angel on their side would give the Vees one hell of leg up in whatever shit heaven thinks up next. They could really use a manager too, at this point in their business expansion- Velvette's got too much of her own shit these days to deal with Vox and Val's on top of it. A fourth Vee, in a coordination role, not interested in farming any souls or turf of her own, would be perfect- especially one that can cut through both bodies and bullshit.

Her name even fits with their theming. Velvette and Vaggie, the flipside to Valentino and Vox...

Hmm.

Velvette: Realizes she's been staring at Vaggie again, and Vaggie's noticed, and spares her exactly one second to give her a quick Glower before going back to arguing with someone.

Velvette: smiles and snaps a picture

The princess of hell is right about one thing. The eyepatch really is quite a Look.

-

Velvette some unspecified time later: It’s just for the bit okay

Vox: You seem to be wearing one of her feathers as a necklace

Velvette: Duh I'm wearing it- almost got hellfire crisped by the princess while snagging it off her

Vox: And the uh, stroking of it?

Velvette: Alllll part of the plan

Vox: You've made a whole private website of her

Velvette: You think faking being in love is some bullshit commercial you can just half-ass your way through with a pretty face and the right outfit? Especially when she used to be an Exorcist? I need intel! Research! The woman dresses as sharp as she is, Vox, and her fav accessory is a soul killing spear

Vox: You and your fixation on women with weapons...

Velvette: Ew. Shut up. This blog is about going down on h- getting my roleplay down right, damn it! This is WORK!

Vox: It looks like a fanpage-

Velvette: BLOCKED

[demonic0angel]

DPxDC Pokémon Teams (click for clarity)

I looked at the poll, and while most people wanted spoilers, a lot of people also wanted only a little spoilers, so instead of the original 8 I was going to reveal, I revealed 4 Pokémon teams :D this will be the team’s final evolved forms, not the form they’re introduced in btw (Example: Chansey eventually evolves into a Blissey but in a future installment)

I also have a challenge for you guys! You’re not required to participate, but those who do can get a drawing from me of their fav Pokémon and DP/DC character (I will make it DPxDC if it’s only a DC character, but y’know.)

So the challenge is to answer 3 questions correctly. You can find the form to answer the questions here. Hints are in the cut below in this post :3 Have fun and good luck!

I got way too excited and just drew everything with my fingers…. The pain…. Especially bc I got my pen back today…

EXTREMELY LONG NOTES ON POKÉMON TEAMS I’M BEING FR:

+ Danny’s team consists of (Hisuian) Zorua, Dartrix, Gengar, and Froslass. Zorua and Gengar were caught by himself, while Dartrix was given to him as a Rowlet by a friend and Froslass was given to him by Frostbite :3

+ Jazz’s team consists of Sylveon, Blissey, and Aegislash. She got an Eevee from the Pokémon center as a starter and harassed the people there until they gave her an egg too. It opened into a Happiny, which she then evolved herself. She also caught a Honedge herself and it later evolved twice. The Marshadow occasionally follows her, but is never officially caught by her (and never will, prob. It's a reference to Shadow that I will explain later). She technically only has 3 Pokémon.

+ Dani's team consists of Mimikyu, Arcanine, and Gyarados. She found each of them while homeless and traveling. Mimikyu and Magikarp were picked up by her bc she pitied them, while Arcanine came as is, since it was a failed police dog and then abandoned. Magikarp eventually evolved.

+ Jason's team consists of Absol, Ceruledge, Volcarona, Drakloak (and a Dreepy), and Annihilape. All Pokémon but Absol were found during his training at the League of Assassins, or afterwards when he came to Gotham. Absol is the only Pokémon he has left from his childhood.

+ Danny's team was basically left unchanged for a while lmaooo. The only thing I did was add Rowlet, which is a reference to Spooky the owl.

+ Jazz is the same, I only added Honedge after a little more planning. At first, she was also supposed to have a Steelix (which would make her Pokémon team have 4) but I disliked how it looked in the drawing and it lowkey didn’t fit the vibes. In the end, I changed my mind again after using a choice picking wheel 💀 Honedge stayed due to storyline reasons.

+ Dani's did not change at all XD I was very satisfied with my choices for her.

+ Jason's team changed a LOT. Some stayed the entire time (like Ceruledge and Absol), but others were switched around a lot. At some point, he even had a Goodra, but I changed my mind several times. I've mentioned this before, but the DC teams were the hardest for me to make. The DP teams were relatively easy in comparison.

+ Danny's team is all ghost Pokémon, or will become ghost Pokémon. The reason why I chose Gengar and not any other Pokémon is bc Gengar is the first and only ghost Pokémon to be introduced in Gen I. The other three are there for thematic and story based reasons.

+ Jazz's team was originally all normal types until Sylveon evolved and she got a Honedge. She's weirdly and somewhat unintentionally powerful when you compare her to everyone else bc of the amount of dark and dragon type Pokémon I gave everyone. (Pseudo-legendaries, I both love you and curse you!) I do love how cutesy her team is. It's fun when you realize that she's also pretty well-balanced (that's on purpose :))

+ Dani's team was chosen solely on vibes and storylines. Also, I love the idea of a small girl having a cute Pokémon, a cool Pokémon, and a fucking behemoth of a sea serpent as a Pokémon.

+ The DC teams are all chosen with a specific pattern and as such, Jason's team reflects that. I switched it up several times but I'm satisfied now. I think the combination of both powerful but also thematically suitable Pokémon is really nice. He's got a pseudo-legendary and a semi-pseudo-legendary and I enjoy how his team is made of fire, ghost, and dark types. Quite spooky.

+ I want to write about Jason and Absol sooooo bad, but I'm trying my best to go in order slowly and work with what I got until I get bored again.

+ The Pokémon listed in each box are ordered from most used/seen to least used/let out of their Pokeball. Example: Jason lets Absol out or uses him the most, but Annihilape is usually kept inside of his Pokeball.

+ The Misdreavus pin that Jazz, Danny, and Dani all share is a logo for them being part of Team Phantom lmao. Misdreavus is the first fully ghost Pokémon to be introduced, hence why I chose it :3

+ Honedge was added to Jazz’s team to replace the usage of Marshadow (I planned her team for a while but never got to changing it until this year tbh), as well as to make up for weaknesses. What’s interesting about her team is that she counteracts a lot of her family’s and friends’ Pokémon teams due to her being a mix of fairy, normal, and ghost types with a bit of dark.

+ When I first discovered Marshadow, I was jumping for joy bc I was hoping to find a Pokémon that could replicate Shadow, an OC that I created to be Jazz's friend and helper. Marshadow was literally perfect for this! Associated with shadows, cute, and most importantly, able to copy others! But then my entire world came crashing down when I found out it was a Mythical Pokémon (which is accurate tbh but.... ☹️) I lowkey dislike it when characters are OP without explanations and I LOVE Jazz, which is why I glaze her so much, but a Mythical Pokémon would've just pissed me off bc no one else has one. So that's why it's there, but I don't consider it an official part of her team. It will help her on the occasion tho!

+ Within these teams, only 4 Pokémon will be evolving within the story: Rowlet -> Dartrix, Chansey -> Blissey, Honedge -> Doublade -> Aegislash, and Magikarp -> Gyarados. Jason's team came as is.

+ If you've seen how I color the characters a lot, you may be wondering why both Dani and Danny are blue instead of the usual green. That's bc I was imagining that when they went ghost, the blue would switch to green and black to white and vice versa. So in reality, the colors are actually the “opposite”.

+ You might not know this, but Dani is the only one with a water type Pokémon on her team in the DP world and it's freaking hilarious when you realize that almost everyone else is weak to fire in varying degrees. Cue shenanigans as everyone in the DP world chases her down for her Magikarp.

+ These Pokémon teams are still subject to a bit of change. As long as I don’t write it down in an AO3 fic, it’s free real estate for me to continue editing 💀

Hint for the questions! 1) It’s a single digit number, so less than 10, 2) It’s a specific girl group of 4-5 members, but very unconventional. Another hint bc it’s a little difficult, think of video games combined with music. 3) Look at Danny’s pants, specifically the shape lmaooo. Another hint, they performed at a very big event recently…. >:)

[thesiltverses]

Oh great writer of cruel worlds & brilliant narratives, I, a beginner, have questions of existential dread to ask you —

I feel like I want to be someone who writes great stories, much more than I want to write great stories. What do I do? Perhaps the internet has eaten my whole attention span. But it is so hard to write. I used to be able to, easily, but it's so hard to start.

Do you have advice that doesn't involve blood sacrifice?

Hi! My advice would be...

Experiment to find a healthy routine that gets you kicking off the work in the most focused possible conditions, and then stick to that routine as much as possible (is it easier to concentrate early in the morning? Does it help to work out first or go for a walk?)

Figure out what's distracting you in the low moments and destroy it - if it is the internet, work offline and shut down all your tabs. If it's your phone, then move it to the next room. Set yourself an alarm for 30 minutes of entirely focused writing time, then gradually increase the length.

Don't agonise over the Big Project until the blank page becomes your tombstone. Instead, muck about with constrained writing techniques to get your engines running again. Use a random-word generator or stab a finger in a dictionary and then force yourself to write a short story centred around those words. Try writing a lipogram or a rhopalism or some haiku. Experiment with a medium that means nothing to you and that you can approach purely as a novelty and a lark - write a Choice of Games CYOA or a Chuck Tingle absurd erotica.

Don't let the bad habits eat you; you're bigger than they are. It's very easy and weirdly satisfying to shake your head and conclude, "damn, the internet has ruined my attention span, I really can't write any more" and then go back to mindlessly clicking between tabs or playing Minesweeper at 8.30am because it's like you've solved the problem, you've found the root of your woes. (speaking from personal experience). But that's wrong. You are not a ruined mind permanently poisoned by digital distraction, you're just someone who could do with forming better habits to get the best result. We all are.

You've got this! Good luck. No blood sacrifices required (they're just for fun).

[bingbongsupremacy]

Blind Date

Pairing: Bodyguard AU!Bucky Barnes x Event Planner!Reader

Warning: Slight insecurity about appearance (No specific features mentioned), Drinking Wine Mentioned, Event Planning job mentioned briefly, nothing else I can think of.

Summary: Natasha set you up on a blind date with a friend of hers. When you first see him, Bucky doesn't seem all too happy to see you. Will things change throughout the night?

*Not Proofread*

No Specific Body Type (Plus size Friendly)/Race mentioned

I knew this blind date was a trap the second I walked in and saw the guy looked like he could bench-press my car and hadn’t smiled in his life. 

Natasha forgot to mention that not only would I be going out with one of the hottest men I’ve ever seen, but also that the man would rather be anywhere else at the moment.

I feel the mans eyes on me as I walk closer to the table. Is it too late to run? Avoid the disaster that’s possibly about to take place. Am I not what he was expecting? Was he hoping for someone else?  Am I too much? 

It’d be rude if I just left as soon as I saw him. All I can do is try to make the night enjoyable. If it doesn’t work out, that’s okay. I’ll be okay. 

I offer the man a small smile the closer I get. "Hi. Are you Bucky?" I ask. 

The man offers a tight lipped smile, standing up as I approach. He extends his hand. "Yes, and you’re Y/N?"

I nod, grateful he’s polite. "I am." I take his right hand, it’s firm and warm. His handshake is confident, like he knows who he is. Out of the corner of my eye, a small light flashes. When he sits down, I notice the metal hand in place of where his left hand should be. Not wanting to make him uncomfortable, I pull my eyes away from his hand. 

The table is beautifully set, candlelight flickering soft across polished silver. I press my hands together in my lap, hiding my fidgeting fingers under the white cloth. The silence stretches, not uncomfortable exactly, just... expectant. I decide to break it. "So, Natasha tells me you work as a bodyguard?"

Bucky nods slightly. "Yeah, I work for Citidel Security."

A waiter glides in and places a glass of water in front of me. I thank him quietly and take a sip, grateful for something to do. "That’s exciting," I try again. "You must see a lot of action with that."

Bucky flips open his menu, his dark blue eyes scanning over the wines. His voice is low and calm. "Enough to keep me busy."

He glances up, one brow slightly raised. "You work in events, right?"

"I can barely keep up with emails at my job," I ramble, hoping to fill the silence. "Half the time I’m one coffee away from a breakdown and the other half I’m gluing rhinestones to props and bribing printers to work. It’s chaos. But fun chaos."

"Yeah, kind of." I nod. "I coordinate staging for performances. A lot of behind-the-scenes stuff. Stressful, but weirdly satisfying." I smile, self-deprecating. "Basically I herd adult-sized toddlers who think glitter is a personality."

There’s a beat of silence. He just looks at me, unreadable. Then he quietly responds. "That actually sounds really cool."

I blink.

 "Oh," I laugh softly, caught off guard. "Thanks. I mean, it pays the bills and makes for great stories. It’s stressful, but I have fun."

He nods once, then shifts slightly in his seat. "Do you like red or white?" he asks, gesturing to the wine list with his finger. "Figured I’d order a bottle."

I blink again, surprised by the thoughtful gesture.  "Oh, um… red. Unless you’re more of a white wine guy?"

"I’m good with red," he says, flagging the waiter with a short glance.

When he orders, it’s with quiet confidence. 

He doesn’t ask many questions-but he listens. I can tell. He lets me ramble on about work or my life. And even though I can’t quite read him, and his answers are short, there’s something steady about the way he looks at me. Like maybe-just maybe-this won’t be a disaster after all.

Over the course of dinner I can slowly see his stoic exterior begin to crack. It shows when he huffs out a quiet laugh or when a small smile tugs at his lips when I tell a funny story. Eventually he begins to offer a little more information. 

He tells me about his younger sister, who I can tell he absolutely adores by the way he describes her. He tells me about his best friend Steve, who got him into the bodyguard industry after his time in the military. And then he tells me about his little white cat, Alpine. 

"She’s adorable." I smile at the picture on Bucky’s phone. In the image, a white cat is curled up against the muscular chest of who I can only presume is Bucky. The cat is sleeping, obviously very comfortable around the man. "I love cats. I’ve never been able to have one, but I hope to someday." I return the phone to Bucky. 

"You’ve never had one before?" He takes a sip from his water. 

I shake my head. "My parents were allergic to cats growing up, so we never got one. My apartment now doesn’t allow pets. Although, that doesn’t really stop people from having them. I just don’t want to risk it and I feel like animals deserve security. I would hate to have a cat and then my landlord finds out and I’m forced to pick either moving or getting rid of it." 

Bucky hums in agreement. "I understand."

Dinner finishes faster than I had hoped. I’m starting to really enjoy Bucky’s company.

"One check or two?" The waiter asks, his eyes flickering between Bucky and I.

We both respond at the same time. 

"One."

"Ican pay for my dinner, if you’d like." I offer. "I can imagine this place is probably very expensive."

"It’s no problem, Doll." 

My stomach flutters at the sound of the pet name.

Bucky pulls his black leather wallet out of his pocket. "I picked the place. I knew the prices. I’ve got this." He takes the bill from the waiter’s extended hand, signing his name at the bottom.

I pull out some cash. "At least let me cover the tip." I go to hand the money to the waiter. 

Bucky hands the bill back to the waiter. "Already covered. Don’t worry about it. Save it for the supplies you’re future pet cat will need." His eyes glimmer in amusement. 

I sigh, shoving the cash back into my purse. "Thank you." I give him a small smile. 

"Of course," he says, leaning back slightly. "Wouldn’t be much of a gentleman if I let you pay, would I?"

We gather our things and make our way to the restaurant entrance. Without a second thought, Bucky holds the door open for me. I can immediately feel the difference of the warm inside and the cold outdoors. 

"Do you want to walk around for a bit? There’s a park nearby." Bucky asks while shoving his hands into his pockets, catching me by surprise. He tilts his head slightly in the direction he wants us to go in.

 Maybe he liked spending time with me too.

"You’re not going to murder me, are you, Bucky? Because I have work tomorrow and so far it’s a shitshow." I tease slightly.

Bucky smirks, a small chuckle spilling from his lips. "Wasn’t planning on it. Not really my ideal first date activity."

"That’s a relief." I glance over at the man. The butterflies in my stomach reactivate when I notice he’s already looking at me-steady and quiet, like he’s been waiting for me to turn his way. "I’d love to walk around with you."

True to his word, we end up strolling along a winding path lit by dim lanterns and scattered stars. The air smells like damp earth and roses. 

"You know, you could’ve gotten a different drink tonight." I sneak a glance at him "I wouldn’t have been offended or anything." I think back to the still nearly full wine glass Bucky left at the table. 

Bucky shrugs. "Not much of a drinker anyways. Besides, you liked it and that’s what matters." Then, after a pause: "But maybe next time, I’ll show you my favorite drink."

My heart stumbles a little. I try not to smile too obviously. "Next time, huh?"

He looks over at me, the corner of his mouth lifting just enough to count. "If you’re up for it."

"I’m definitely up for a second date."

For the first time tonight, Bucky fully smiles. "Great, uh, we’ll have to plan that then. You can pick the place this time."

"I have a few places in mind." I hum. I look up at the sky admiring the beautiful stars sprinkled around. "I’m really glad I came tonight. Truth be told, I was a bit nervous. I wasn’t sure if you’d like me…or how I look. I know sometimes I can talk a bit too much." I sigh honestly.

"I’m sorry if I gave you that impression. I just…" Bucky bites his lip slightly before looking at me. He’s nervous. "I’ve never really been good at first dates. I don’t know what to say and so I just fall into this habit of being quiet the entire time. I started dating my previous girlfriend five years ago. When we broke up, I guess that awkwardness with first dates came back and so I’ve been hesitant to put myself out there. This is the first date I’ve been on in months."

I can see a subtle red tint cover his cheeks. It’s adorable. 

"Hey, it’s okay. I understand first dates are just awkward in general. And it’s got to be hard coming out of a long relationship like that. I appreciate your honesty." I catch his eye. 

Relief fills his expression. "Thanks."

"Of course." I smile warmly at the man. 

"And, just so you know," Bucky’s eyes scan my face, a small smile on his lips. "I love how you look. You’re beautiful. Natasha’s description doesn’t do you justice."

My breath catches in my throat. I try to shake off my flusteredness. "You’re not too bad yourself."

I’m so glad I listened to Natasha and came tonight.

----

A/N: I actually am going on a blind date in a few days (That's where I got the idea from), and I'm very nervous bc it's my first ever blind date. Hopefully it goes well!

[bunni-v1]

hii, congratulations on 500 followers 🎊

May I request a full nsfw alphabet for azul ashengrotto please?

🍓Huzzah, Azul is done. I think I only have three more of these, and then I'm done with them. I'm planning on writing more for Lighter though, so... lord knows when I'll refocus lol. I just... I love he.

Azul NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare: This can go one of two ways: Azul pampers you or you pamper Azul. He wants nothing more in the whole world than to ensure that you are comfortable, happy, and satisfied. He will wipe you down, draw you a bath, wash your hair, and give you a whole spa treatment if you let him. He wraps you up in fluffy towels and gives you his softest set of pajamas, that is when he has the energy to do that. Usually, Azul is so worn out that he can’t pamper you like the queen you are, and you’re the one doing all that for him. The only exception is when he’s in his mer form… he uses considerably less energy to satisfy both of your needs like that, let's just say.

B = Body Part: He’s a thigh guy, you can just tell from that stupid little smirk. Legs are so annoying, they’re clunky and they move oddly; he hates them. That is until he saw yours. Suddenly he gets the appeal. They’re truly captivating, you know? They can be so graceful on the right person. As for himself, I think he’d probably say something like his hands or his face. He uses his hands a lot, to write contracts, make food, use magic, etc.. They’re useful, and you seem to enjoy them a lot when he uses them on you. With his face, he knows he’s handsome and charming, it’s one of his biggest weapons so of course he’s a fan of it.

C = Cum: Azul is very conservative, I feel. It’s either inside or nothing. He just thinks it’s kind of gross, I mean, seriously he doesn’t want to stain his nice satin sheets. Also, uhm, why would he waste his seed when it could be put to proper use? Before you ask, yes, he scoops up any that manages to slip out and pushes it back in. As for color, I imagine it’s much darker in color than humans, more of a grey/blue color and it’s rather sweet tasting. If you ask him nicely, he might let you eat it up.

D = Dirty Secret: Maybe not a secret, but he wants to knock you up sooooo bad. He’s fully aware it’s irresponsible, you’re both college students with lives ahead of you, but imagining you with his kids makes him a little more than irrational. He’d NEVER let it happen though, always ensuring you’ve taken the morning-after pill or your birth control if you have it. He’s not ready to be a father until he’s got his business ventures settled. (In a few years after you graduate though? Lol, good luck with this guy.)

E = Experience: NONE! Azul has zero experience and it shows. He’s super clumsy the first time, and everything makes him blush. He cums putting it in and he cries about it too. You can’t blame him though, he’s kind of a super loner. It’s not like he’d ever let anyone close enough to sleep with him in the first place, so be gentle with him. He definitely gets way better as he learns what you like. You come across him studying human sexual anatomy a few times, and even though he’s embarrassed, thinking about it like classwork helps calm his nerves. 

F = Favorite Position: If he’s topping, probably missionary – unless you’re fucking his mer form, then he pretty much pulls you around however he likes. Weirdly, he likes holding you upside down while he pumps his tentacles inside you. He thinks you won’t be able to hurt him that way (you weren’t gonna hurt him period, but instinct wins ig).  When you’re topping, cowgirl all the way, please. Loves watching you bounce, it’s so satisfying.

G = Goofy: I don’t see him as goofy during, not intentionally, at least. He’s playful sure, enjoying teasing you for your reactions, but he’s not really jokey. He doesn’t think sex is the time to mess around and poke fun at each other. It’s intimate and vulnerable, so he’d rather not crack jokes if he can.

H = Hair: Rest assured that Azul is wonderfully groomed. Sometimes he shaves it clean down there, other times he keeps a little white tuft of hair, but it’s always nice and presentable.

I = Intimacy: Oh Azul is so sweet. He holds you close and whispers in your ear about how happy he is, how lucky he is to have you, how much he loves you. It’s a very vulnerable time, and when Azul is so flooded with pleasure, he tends to lose himself to it. He wants the same reassurance from you, of course, especially when you’re the one in charge. Be sure to whisper sweet nothings to make him feel good.

J = Jack Off: He doesn’t like masturbating, like, at all. It’s such an annoying task and it’s so messy, so he avoids it at all costs. The only time he’ll try it is if you ask to watch him, and he expects a nice reward afterward too. Other than that? Why would he do anything like that when he has you to help?

K = Kink: So other than the established breeding kink, I think Azul is pretty vanilla. He’s not into restraints usually. Other than in his mer form, where he can easily twist and bend and hold you where he likes. He’s not all that into marking, finds it more embarrassing than anything. One thing he is into is size difference – specifically when he’s in his mer form you are dwarfed by him. You’re so small and malleable and cute, especially when you whine that you can’t handle it anymore.

L = Location: His bedroom is a fan favorite. It’s quiet and private, and no one can bother either of you. He’d rather no one be able to see either of you in such an intimate position, especially not Floyd or Jade. You can, however, convince him to let you have sex in his office. The door is lockable and there are no widows, and the room is soundproof. The only issue is Jade has a key (NOT Floyd), and you could still get caught, but the risk is… kind of thrilling. (Jade would 100% do it on purpose too).

M = Motivation: Seeing your legs is a big one for him. He could stare at them all day if allowed, the way they move, and sevens if he could touch them it would be way better. Wearing stockings or particularly short shorts and skirts also kills him. Alternatively, arguing with him (in a playful way) is a surefire way to get him riled up. He doesn’t know why he likes it so much, he just gets a thrill when you’re both poking each other's buttons.

N = No: Absolutely nothing public, he hates the idea of being watched. On top of that, no filming or pictures of either of you. He doesn’t want them to accidentally get out and be used as blackmail against him. Also no degradation, please. He’s sensitive, he will cry and it will ruin the mood, so don’t hurt him like that. Oh, no sharing either. He’s not a big fan of sharing his loved one’s attention, especially not in this context.

O = Oral: Listen Azul might be bad in bed to start, but he’s amazing at eating you out. It’s the one thing that he just got immediately, and that isn’t a commentary on him liking food or anything, he’s just fucking talented with his tongue. Like, mind-blowingly good at manipulating it in ways that will have your eyes rolling.

P = Pace: Azul always tries to take his time with things, so he’s very slow and sensual. He prefers deep and precise thrusts over aggressive and fast ones because he likes to feel everything. Sometimes he closes his eyes just to get lost in that sensation. However, as he gets closer and closer to cumming he gets a little sloppy. He misses his rhythm more and more until he stutters his hips and pushes aaaalllllllllll the way in.

Q = Quickie: Not a big fan of them, honestly. Like I said, he prefers to take his time and really feel everything, so quickies are just not his forte. Not to say he’s against them, he absolutely has indulged you in his office really quick between clients, but he just doesn’t prefer them.

R = Risk: He does not like risk, which makes him way too anxious and he performs way worse than he normally does. He doesn’t want to be seen in an intimate position with you like that, and he’s not all that up to experiment out of his comfort zone either. He knows what he likes, and it’s highly unlikely you surprise him.

S = Stamina: He doesn’t have a lot of stamina for himself, which is why he takes a nice long time with foreplay. He enjoys seeing you cum a few times before the main event, mostly because he can only cum once before he’s done. Though, in his mer form this isn’t the case. He can go for multiple rounds non-stop if you want, he just usually doesn’t because that’s not exactly healthy for a human to go through.

T = Toys: I don’t think he has many toys for you, because why would you need them when you have him? He can do more than any of them even could. He takes extra offense to tentacle-shaped toys, do you think he’s a joke? Besides, he knows how much more you like his tentacles so why would you waste time with silicone when you have a much nicer alternative?

U = Unfair: Believe it or not, Azul isn’t unfair at all. He’s not that big of a tease, though sometimes he comes off that way, and he certainly won’t make you beg for your own pleasure. It’s his job to make you feel good, withholding that is a failure to uphold his side of the bargain. He can’t have that. Now if you tease him a little he wouldn’t be opposed, just… when he tells you to stop, please stop. 

V = Volume: Azul is very whiny. He tries his best to bite back his noises, but he always makes them, and he makes a lot of them. Usually, it’s little squeaks and sighs of pleasure, but sometimes when he’s really far gone, he makes these delicious drawn-out moans that would make a porn star blush. He would like it if you were vocal as well, mostly to drown out his shame a little lol.

W = Wild Card: Azul would absolutely love to eat a full meal off you one day. Like, appetizers, main course, and you for dessert type shit. As much as he tries to hide it, he loves food so much, and I know he would love to combine it with you. So, eating food off of you is a bigggggg thing he wants to do someday. (He would never voice this, and would take it to his grave.)

X = X-Ray: Azul’s member is the strongest out of the Octinivelle trio, purely because it’s just not human looking even in human form. Jade and Floyd at least have human-like penises, but Azul… not so much. It’s wide, on the shorter side about 4 inches, and black in color. It resembles a tentacle but retains the human penile structure. It’s the same in his mer-form, so its easy to assume his penis just isn’t affected in the transformation.

Y = Yearning: Azul’s sex drive is about average, but he doesn’t usually act upon it. He likes to have sex maybe once a week, but with his schedule, even that can be difficult. He’s very good at ignoring his needs when he needs to, so a lot of the time you’ll have to be the one to initiate and tell him to do something about his yearning problem. Z = Zzz: He falls asleep pretty quickly depending on how long everything took. He likes to stay up and care for you and himself a bit, but he’s still quick to fall asleep when everything is in order. He just doesn’t have that much energy, poor thing.

[bradshawshawaiianshirt]

the bodyguard | part 9

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Famous!reader AU

After joining Maverick's security team once he left the navy, Rooster had become the best bodyguard around. He never thought too hard about it, he'd go in, protect whoever he was assigned, and leave. The threat against his client never really went anywhere if he was on the job, and he always put it first. All until your assignment came along. Suddenly his biggest threat might not be the stalker watching your every move, but rather trying not to fall for the world's biggest pop star.

warnings: stalker, threats, toxic parent, anything else let me know

length: 3k

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Over the next few days, Rooster felt more and more tormented.  

Every move you made, every smile, every laugh, every damn bit of skin that was exposed drove him mad. He tried to keep his distance, to ignore it, but it was a battle he was losing. It didn’t help that yoga had now become a regular activity for you and each morning, as he fought to keep his composure, he felt his resolve crumble more and more. 

It also didn’t help that he could have sworn you were doing it purposely, teasing him like it was fun for you.

And it was. You’d gotten a real kick out of watching Rooster struggle, giggling to yourself every time he’d leave the room while you did your morning stretches, his cheeks red and his eyes avoiding you. It was satisfying to know that you could make the big serious bodyguard lose his composure, but of course, you’d never take it any further. 

Even if you thought about it. A lot. 

Every night, Rooster led on the couch and listened to you get ready for bed in the next room, his mind filled with visions of you. He couldn’t give in, not while he was on this assignment, even though he could feel the need to remain professional rapidly declining. 

-- 

He stepped into the cabin one night after his evening patrol. A swirl of cold air chased him inside and he shut the door firmly behind him, brushing flakes from his shoulders as he peeled off his gloves.  

His eyes immediately found you, curled up on the couch with your knees tucked under you and a blanket thrown over your legs, book in hand. He stood and watched you for a moment, like he couldn't help it, the slight shift of your body as you turned a page, the way your hair fell across your face, the gentle rise and fall of your chest. He couldn’t help but wonder how the hell he got himself in this position. One minute you’re the most irritating person in the world, and now...

Well now, you were irritating for a much different reason. 

You glanced up from your book and noticed him standing by the door. “How was your perimeter check?” you smiled tiredly. 

He nodded. "Fine. Same as the last few days.” He tried to keep his voice steady, but his body was itching to close the distance, to pull you into his lap and lose himself in you for a few moments. He shook his head, “How’s your book?” 

You shrugged and closed it, placing it onto the coffee table beside you as you sat up to face him, “Good. I never usually have time to read in LA, so this has been nice.”  

As you properly looked at him, you couldn’t help but start to giggle quietly to yourself. Snowflakes were stuck to his mustache, and for some reason, on such a serious man like Rooster, it made him look almost goofy.  

Maybe the isolation of the cabin was really getting to you. 

Your giggles only increased when his brows furrowed and his head tilted, making him look adorably confused.

He raised an eyebrow, “What’s so funny?” 

You shook your head a little and tried to stifle your giggles, “You’ve got something... on your face.”  

Rooster frowned. “What?” 

You rolled your eyes playfully, “Hold still.” you stood, padding over to him in your thick fluffy socks. 

Before he could move, your fingers were at his face, brushing gently at the melting snow caught in his mustache, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Weirdly, it did feel natural for you, being with Rooster felt easy. At first, you’d tried to blame it on the isolation of the cabin, but that was getting harder to do.  

Rooster’s breath hitched and his eyes roamed over your face. Your touch was soft and tender, and it sent his mind spiraling right back to the gutter. He swallowed hard and his gaze dropped to your lips for a moment, almost on instinct. 

The moment lingered – just a few seconds too long. The fire cracked in silence. You didn’t step away. 

Neither did he. 

Up close, you could see the faint line between his brows, always there when he was thinking too hard – or feeling something he didn’t want to. Your hand slowly came to a stop by his mouth, and you suddenly realised how close you were to him, how intimate this felt. He stood there with you, completely still, his gaze locked with yours, unable to think of anything other than what it would be like to kiss you. 

Your hand dropped slowly to your side, but your gaze stayed fixed on his. “You’d make a terrible snowman.” you whispered, smiling a little. 

That should have broken the moment.

It didn't. 

Bradley didn’t smile. He just looked at you like you were a problem he didn’t know how to solve. One he wasn’t sure he should even try solving. 

His voice was quiet, almost pleading. “Princess...” 

You swallowed. “Yeah?” 

He didn’t answer. Instead, his hand lifted – just slightly, like he might tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. But it hovered, half-raised, caught between impulse and restraint. The distance between you was barely there now. Your breath mixed with his. Your heartbeat thudded too loud in your ears. 

He leaned in- 

Then stopped. Just shy of your lips. He was so close you could feel the warmth of him, the tension radiating off his skin. His jaw was tight, eyes dark with something that felt a lot like want – and something else too. Fear, maybe. Or guilt. 

He stepped back. Hard. “You should get some rest.” 

You blinked. The spell shattered. All you could do was nod. 

He quickly turned away, reaching for the fireplace. “I’ll put more wood on.”  

You stood there for a long moment, not moving, not speaking. The silence between you now wasn’t empty – it was full of everything you hadn’t said. It struck you in that moment just how much you’d wanted him to close the gap between you. 

Outside the snow kept falling. Inside, the room was warm.  

Rooster had never felt the chill more. 

-- 

The fire had burned down to embers.  

Rooster lay on the couch, one arm behind his head, staring at the ceiling. He’d tossed and turned for a while, trying in vain to shut his mind off, before eventually giving up on sleep altogether. The blanket draped over him was warm enough, but his thoughts weren’t quiet, then again, his thoughts had been hard to control since the moment he first saw you.  

There was no way he could sleep now. Not after the way you’d looked at him earlier. The way he hadn’t stopped you. The way he’d almost -  

The floor creaked. 

He didn’t move, just listened. Soft footsteps. The sound of the fridge opening, then the clink of a mug against the counter. You were awake too. Were you unable to sleep for the same reasons as him? He wanted more than anything to find out. 

He debated for a moment whether he should go to you. His mind told him to stay on the couch and maintain the distance between you, that would be the smart thing to do after all. Maybe before this assignment, he could have done that easily, but now his every instinct pulled him to you.  

He sat up slowly. 

In the dim kitchen light, you stood in an oversized shirt and thick socks, hair loose around your shoulders. You moved quietly, stirring the pot on the stove like you were trying not to think too hard.

He could relate. 

He leaned against the doorframe and watched you for a moment, before he spoke softly, “Can’t sleep?” 

You turned to face him in surprise, even though a part of you had hoped he might have been awake enough to follow you. You told yourself it was all a part of the little teasing game you’d been playing.

“Something like that.” you replied sheepishly, your eyes roaming over his tight-fitting shirt and lose sweatpants. Your imagination ran wild. 

He studied you, taking in your sleep-tousled hair and the way your oversized shirt hung loosely over one shoulder. His gaze dropped to your legs briefly, the sight of your bare thighs sending a wave of desire through him. “Me neither.”  

“Didn’t mean to wake you.” 

“You didn’t.” He padded over and leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “You’re making warm milk?” 

You chuckled a little, feeling silly, “Its... what my mom would make me as a kid whenever I couldn’t sleep.” You reached up to grab two mugs without looking at him. “I was gonna ask if you wanted some.” 

The undid him a little – just the quietness of it. The offering. Not a command, not a tease. Just... kindness. 

“Warm milk sounds nice.” he said, “Thanks.” 

You poured slowly, then handed him the mug. Your fingers brushed, and neither of you moved for a second too long. This tension was going to drive you mad, but you were too stubborn to break it. 

He cleared his throat, “So, why can’t you sleep?” 

You looked up at him, wondering how honest you should be. Of course, the real reason was all because of him, because you couldn’t stop replaying the moment between you earlier, couldn’t stop wondering if he had been thinking the same things you had, or if the isolation of the cabin was getting to you both.

You settled on something vague. “Too many thoughts, I guess. You?” 

“Yeah,” he admitted, thinking back to his own inner turmoil that had been keeping him awake, “Just can’t seem to shut my mind off.” 

“Sometimes it helps to share.” You shrugged and leaned a little closer on the counter, “What were you thinking about?” 

He hesitated, his mind whirling with thoughts of you. He was half tempted to just admit it, get the weight off his chest. “Just thinking about...” he began, trailing off as his gaze roamed your face. There was that crease in his brow again. A part of you was beginning to like it, being the one thing he couldn't work out.

“About?” you murmured, almost pleading him to give the answer you hoped for. 

He watched you carefully as the distance between you got smaller. His mind was still racing, but one thought dominated them all. He took a deep breath, “You. I can’t stop thinking about you, actually.” 

His eyes locked with yours, and in that moment, he found himself torn between vulnerability and caution. His eyes briefly glanced at your lips, and he knew he was treading on dangerous ground, but the pull towards you was impossible to resist. 

You could feel the weight of his stare in his words as you looked back down at your mug. “Stop looking at me like that.” you said, barely above a whisper. 

He didn’t move. “Like what?” 

“Like that. Like you’re thinking about something you shouldn’t.” 

His voice came low, heavy. “I am.” 

Your eyes met his and the air between you seemed to tighten. His gaze was intense, the room felt heavy, but you wouldn’t be the one to make the first move, not after last time.  

You swallowed and straightened up. “It doesn’t feel professional.” 

Rooster took a step forward, slow and deliberate. His gaze didn’t leave yours. “It’s not.” 

Your breath caught, but you didn’t move away. You held your ground, even as he came close enough that your knees almost brushed his. 

“You’re looking at me like you’re about to do something stupid,” you said, quieter now. 

He stepped closer. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I think I am.” 

Your fingers tightened around the mug, but you didn’t back away, didn’t look away. He took it gently from your hands and set it beside his on the counter. 

Then his palms gently found your hips, his touch light at first, grounding him – grounding you – and his forehead dipped to rest against yours. 

“What are we doing, princess?” he whispered, almost like a plea, “This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. I’m supposed to protect you, that’s it.” 

You took a shaky breath, your throat going dry as you whispered, “You can walk away. You can leave this kitchen, and... we can pretend this conversation never happened, even go back to hating each other... If that’s what you want.”  

The sensible part of him – the part that had held onto duty and professionalism for so long – screamed at him to turn away, to do exactly what you’d said, protect himself from the potential heartbreak and complications. You were a celebrity after all, a guy like him could never make it with someone like you. He was sure you'd find someone better, someone that suited your lifestyle. He was just the guy in the shadows, the guy protecting you.

Right?

But the other part – the part that couldn’t deny the connection that had formed between you both, that was willing to risk it all – couldn't bring himself to move. He craved something more, something real. 

With you. 

Maybe in reality, that was impossible, but in the cabin, it felt inevitable.

The weight of the decision was heavy on his shoulders and for a moment, and his feet shifted as if preparing to turn and leave, to follow the sensible path, to push aside the feelings that threatened to consume him. Then, he shook his head slowly, “I can’t.” 

“You can’t?” 

“No, I can’t.” he whispered roughly, his eyes roaming over your face and his chest rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths. He gripped your waist tighter, almost like he couldn’t help it. “I can’t walk away from you. It’s not just about protecting you, not anymore.” 

Then his mouth was on yours. 

There was nothing tentative about it – no hesitation left between you. The kiss was deep, immediate, full of all the things you hadn’t said. His hands gripped you like he couldn’t get close enough, like this was the only moment that existed. You responded just as fiercely, fingers gripping onto his shirt, pulling him harder against you. 

Your back hit the counter, but you didn’t care. 

It turned messy – heated – like you’d both run out of patience at the exact same time. You gasped when his hand slid up your spine, and he caught the sound with his mouth, groaning low in his throat as if holding back had actually hurt. 

He kissed you like he’d been starving for you. And you kissed him back like you felt it too. 

When you finally pulled apart, his forehead resting on yours, both breathless, neither of you spoke. Your hand was still on his chest, while his thumb traced gently along your waist. 

Outside, the wind howled low against the cabin walls. 

Inside, Rooster looked at you like there was nothing else in the world he needed to figure out. 

You didn’t look away; you didn’t need to. 

Slowly, you reached for his hand, and he let you take it. 

You backed away slowly, step by step, leading him down the short hall without a word. He followed. 

The bedroom door clicked softly shut behind you. 

And the fire kept burning long into the night. 

-- 

As the soft light of the early morning seeped through the window, Rooster’s eyes fluttered open. For a moment, he didn’t move, and his mind slowly pieced together the memories of the night before. A part of him finally felt calm, like he’d gotten everything off his chest, his thoughts finally quiet and at ease. 

He turned his head to see you next to him, your body hidden under the tangled sheets, your features peaceful in sleep. He couldn’t resist the urge to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch light and tender. He took some time to observe you, and his gaze traced over your features, trying to commit every detail to memory. The sunlight filtered through the room and casted a gentle glow on your face, making you look even more beautiful. If that was even possible. 

God, he was in trouble, but in that moment, he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

The intensity of his emotions from the previous night still lingered, but there was also a strong sense of protectiveness mixed with admiration for you. He was reluctant to move, not wanting to disturb the tranquility of the moment, so instead he gently pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, a silent gesture of affection. 

“Good morning.” you smiled sleepily, and your eyes fluttered open to see Rooster leaning above you. It was a sight you didn’t want to forget. He had a warm, tired smile on his face and his hair was ruffled from sleep (among other things). You felt almost giddy at how good he looked. 

He propped himself up on his elbow beside you, “Morning, princess.” He reached out and his fingertips gently traced the line of your cheek, almost in awe. 

You placed your hand over his, thumb stroking his knuckles gently. “You’re not gonna freak out again, right? Tell me I’m... what was it? Just a client?”

You were teasing, but there was a vulnerability to your voice that made Rooster’s heart ache. He should have never said that to you. 

He gently cupped your face, his fingers gently caressing your cheek, “No.” he said, his voice firm and sincere, “No more pretending you're just a client. That ship’s long sailed, princess.” 

You felt your cheeks grow warm under his touch. “Good.” you replied softly, “My whole life is about pretending. I like not pretending with you.” 

The honesty in your voice, that admission that you felt comfortable being genuine with him, touched him deeply, and he leaned forward, placing another tender kiss on your forehead. “No masks, no pretending. In this cabin, it’s just us.” he murmured against your skin. 

“Just us.” 

That was the moment, you were sure. 

You had fallen for your bodyguard, and it was looking like he’d fallen for you too. 

---

A/N: Rooster finally gave in I've been waiting to upload this part for ages!! Next part will be a lot of fluff :)

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[whorediaries-09]

Hi babes💓

May I ask for a French!Slytherin!fem X Sirius???

Could be angsty and slowburnish or whatever you'd like really [I'm a sucker for your smut]

I love you xxx

thank you for sending in the request, luv!!

i'm gonna make you my wife;

pairing- sirius black x frenchslytherin!reader warning(s)- banter, fluff, silly teenagers in love, kinda shy reader, alcohol, 18+ content. a/n- also sorry for poorly translated french, i used whatever google gave me hehe.

ps- i didn't write the day old cliche about slytherin reader and sirius in this one because i think i have read it so much, it doesn't inspire me anymore.

little train.

it was the most annoying noise. the way sirius black was sucking on the lollipop vibrated in your eardrums. in the quiet silence of the library, the constant swishing, flicking and sucking was deafeningly annoying.

more over, you didn't understand why he was here, of all places. and why he couldn't understand the meaning of personal boundaries. so you decided to voice your thought.

'black, move your ass away, will you?' sirius looked at you as if he'd noticed you were standing near him, struggling to get the book out which was kept on one of the higher shelves. while he could've easily gotten it out, it was fun to see you struggle, as the shirt that you had carefully tucked into your skirt loosened with every movement. it didn't really help with the fact that your skirt also rid up slightly as you stood on your tiptoes, exposing the skin of your thighs.

'why good morning, love, i see you're thinking about my ass today.'

'trust me, i've got better things to do, black. and don't call me love.' you warned. sirius seemed greatly amused. he moved closer to you, his breathe falling upon your hair. he could easily tower over you.

'then what would you like me to call you? sweetheart? honey? or maybe you'd prefer princess?' he didn't miss the way your lips quirked but you preferred to stay silent. he smiled, apparently satisfied with your reaction. he leaned closer, his finger tucking your hair behind your back. his lips almost brushed with your ear as he whispered, handing you the book you'd been reaching for,

'ou peut-être préféreriez-vous que je vous appelle mon amour.' ('or maybe you'd prefer me to call you my love.')

he didn't miss the way your eyes flicked to his lips. or the way your cheeks reddened at his words. or the way your pupils dilated, if only slightly. grinning, he held a two finger salute, walking away,

'see you at the game tomorrow! can't wait to beat the slytherins!'

'va te faire foutre, black,' ('fuck you, black,') you whispered as he walked away.

*-

it was cold. the air was harsh, biting your skin with every bellow. but as the enthusiastic quidditch fan you were, you had to go. well you'd be lying if you said you were the enthusiastic quidditch fan, you couldn't give more than two shits about it, you solemnly went to support your team.

at least that is what you told yourself.

it was again, a lie.

you wrapped the scarf around your neck closer, hiding yourself further into the soft and knitted wool. through the wind, you watched sirius throw a particularly nasty throw at evan. and try as hard as you might, you couldn't bring yourself to tear your eyes off from his form.

it was quite the show, every time he shouted at somebody else, every time his fingers wrapped around the ball, pulling it closer to his body and throwing it about with the club. you'd be lying too much if you said you didn't find that weirdly attractive.

but what would a few lies do?

you were pulled out your thoughts as you saw sirius approach closer, closer than he was supposed to during a game. he was grinning full ear to ear. you quickly diverted your eyes to the score board.

'enjoying the view, mon amour?' he shouted. you rolled your eyes,

'you wish, black,' he chuckled,

'you know i don't,'

*-

sirius knew what he wanted. and he knew how to get it. so, as he watched you sit down for a game of spin the bottle at the party, he sat strategically directly opposite to you. the rest of his group cheered as he was handed a shot of tequila. you rolled your eyes, as he cheered the air.

'not so cheerful today are we, mon amour?' (my love)

'it's never cheerful with you around, black,'

'you wound me, chérie,' (darling)

'i sure hope i do,' he chuckled, running his fingers through his hair. he took the bottle, placing it on the carpet. with a wide grin, he said, overly cheerful,

'lets get this game going shall we?' he spun the bottle. everybody stayed silent, watching as it turned in circles, before slowing down every passing minute and halting to a stop.

it pointed at evan and barty. barty smirked, evan groaned. the rest cheered barty on. he got on all fours, reaching towards evan,

'pick your choice, rosier,' he said. the other boy grumbled something incomprehensible before pulling him close and kissing him. the way he kissed him didn't seem very rivals of them.

'oi! get a fucking room!' james shouted, throwing a chip at them. barty pulled himself off evan's lips.

'i will potter, just not within the spectrums of your knowledge,' the boy blew a raspberry before grabbing the bottle and spinning it. it spun again. you hoped it wouldn't stop at you. you didn't want to have to kiss sirius. and neither did you want to have to drink the tequila.

you didn't have a very good experience with alcohol.

it stopped at james and lily. it was no rumor lily had finally said yes to the boy after years of unnerved dedication to pester her. but james had to change into a matured and good youth of course, before he'd finally gotten lily to fall in love with him. lily leaned over, but james being the over excited fellow he was, pulled her into a frenzy, smacking a hard kiss on her lips.

'james, we don't want to become uncles at this young age, bless us!' remus said, dryly. he seemed thoroughly bored. on second thought, he always appeared bored. it was just him, you supposed, not finding the thrill into these games. he much rather preferred rotting in bed with a book.

'i agree with remus,' peter piped in, taking the bottle. sirius' eyes lingered upon you. he could see the feign worry etched on your face. he thought it was adorable how oblivious you were at hiding your feelings.

he saw the whispers in your eyes.

'spin the fucking bottle.' you said.

and so peter did. when it stopped, so did your heart. well almost. sirius looked at you with the biggest grin you'd ever seen on his face. you huffed.

'pick your poison, babe,' he said. he didn't lean over. it was all part of his strategy.

'you're poison either way.' you said, taking the shot burning down your throat. he grinned, shrugging his shoulders.

je vais faire de toi ma femme. he thought. (i'm gonna make you my wife.)

je vais casser ton vélo. you thought. (i'm gonna smash up your bike.)

*-

you were high. and god forbid you didn't care about sirius' hands around your body. you allowed yourself to relish the feeling. the warmth your heart sunk as his breath fanned over your neck. his hands felt so familiar on your skin, as you'd felt them before.

the music crawled under your skin. he swirled you around, his hand placed on your waist, pressing your chest to his.

'i'm gonna get you one day, miel,' (honey) he said. you chuckled, dancing with unrhythmic steps.

'je vais te dire une chose, miel. je pourrais retourner ce putain de scénario et prendre le dessus, et te laisser comme cette stupide fête. ou je pourrais juste t'aimer jusqu'à la fin.' (i'll tell you one thing, honey. i might flip the fucking script and take the upper hand, and leave you like this dumb party. or i might just love you till the end.)

sirius laughed. it vibrated into your ears. it was a melody, a sweet vibratos of rasps from the depth of his throat. and god forbid it got you feeling things you'd never thought you'd feel.

'et je vais te dire une chose, bébé. je vais faire de toi ma putain de femme.' (and i'll tell you one thing, babe. i'm gonna make you my fucking wife)

you chuckled.

'et je briserai ton putain de vélo.' (and i'm gonna smash your fucking bike)

he dipped you, before swirling you for the last time and leaving you.

'i'll wait, sweetheart.'

*-

you didn't know whether you wanted to flip him off or pull him into the closet. but the whispers in his eyes were so loud, so lewd, it was as if you could hear them echo into your head. why was he sitting with the group to play truth and dare anyway?

worser still, it was a rapid fire if you chose truth.

'lace, satin or leather,' peter asked.

'that's the most most stupid question to ask the fucking sirius black leather! the guy's wearing a leather jacket in front of your eyes!'

'lace,' he said.

'we were not talking about lingerie.' lily commented, bored.

'i am,' he shrugged.

fuck. it was your turn. he grinned. without thinking, you chose truth. and god by the look on his face you knew he'd make it hard.

'tell us about any three kinks you have.' you almost choked on your pumpkin juice. your brain short circuited. kinks? you'd only had sex one time.

'fast, chérie, time is money,'

'uhm, may-maybe mirrors, oral and biting,'

he clearly saw through your lie, but made no further comment.

*-

'i see you can't stand us having a jolly time, black,' your friend commented as sirius sat down with your group. sirius grinned at her.

'if you want to, take away your girlfriend,' she grumbled. you hit her with your book. exactly why sirius black to sit amongst your group of friends, was extremely questionable. if you knew better, sirius black would've rather died than having been spotted at the slytherin table.

'she's not my girlfriend, yet,' he replied.

'and i'm never gonna be your girlfriend!' you snapped. he grinned,

'so we're going straight for husband and wife, mon amour?' you stuttered upon your words. he enjoyed the effect he had on you. he smiled, leaning closer, resting his face on his palm. you rolled your eyes.

'marry, kiss or kill me, ladies?' he asked. your friends groaned, each on of them mumbling a quiet 'kill'. sirius seemed thoroughly amused when you didn't say anything.

'it's just a game but really,' he said, urging you to answer. you smiled, a sly curve of your lips, so unlike you,

'i'm betting on all three, for us.'

this time, sirius black was left speechless.

*-

you were late. running towards slughorn's class wasn't the best option, considering it was down in the dungeon, where the floor tended to be slippery, but it was the second best option considering apparition was not possible within the grounds of hogwarts. not to say, you'd been used to the slippery floors after spending 6 and a half years in the castle.

but just as you were turning on your heel, a few steps away into his class, you were pulled by somebody who's touch seemed eerily familiar. their hand clasped upon your mouth, as they pressed your back towards their front, pulling you into a broom closet-which you didn't even know was there.

inky locks licked your forehead. the warmth of his body pressed upon yours and the ink of the fresh tattoos on his hand instantly gave away who it was.

'i hope you don't mind that i kidnapped you,' he rasped, letting you go once he was sure you wouldn't scream and let the whole school know where you were.

'i in fact do mind, black,' you said, reaching for the handle of the closet. he held your free hand, pulling you back,

'there's slime all over the floor. it's for snivellus. i hope you don't want to get stuck on it.' he said, warning you. you didn't answer, letting go the handle.

'it's too small in here,' you commented. he quirked an eyebrow, smiling wickedly,

'i think its cozy in here,' you rolled your eyes.

'push the reset button, babe, let's become something new,'

'no offence but god how do you talk so much. i think i die a little inside every time you open your stupid mouth. sometimes i just want to wrap my hand around your throat and choke you till you can't speak anymore,'

'that sounds kinky,' his reply took you off guard. 'are we discussing kinks in this closet? i don't think i'll be able to handle myself once i get to know about-'

his voice was muffled when you crashed your lips against his, pulling him down my his red tie. for a minute millisecond, he didn't kiss you back, and you thought you'd fucked it up. but when he smiled and pushed you back on the wall, his hands cradling your cheeks, you knew you lost it. your knees suddenly became very weak and your heart started thumping against your throat.

you could only hope you'd crawl out of this closet even alive. because the way he kissed you, so deep, so passionate, yet so rough had you losing your breathe.

'f-fuck black, i can't breathe,' you gasped, getting away from him. he smiled, slyly.

'had no idea you'd got so much in you, mon amour,' he said, his hands travelling between your thighs. he crawled his fingers upon the skin of your inner thigh, enjoying the way you crumbled bit by bit with every movement. his finger grazed over your underwear, feeling the little wet spot.

'may i?' he asked, his pupils dilated. you sighed, pulling him closer by the collar.

'god all you do is fucking talk, please,' he laughed, deep from the base of the throat.

'and all you do is hate me,' he slipped his fingers into your underwear, rubbing circles on your clit.

'you're so fucking wet,' you hummed, letting him scissor his fingers into your cunt. your walls pulsated at the cold contact of his rings into the warmth of your folds. you shuddered, his free hand undoing the buttons of your shirt.

'i'll mark you in places only i can see,' he whispered, his lips trailing over the expanse of your warm skin of your breasts. with a swish and click of his fingers, gone was your bra. he kissed your breasts gently, enjoying as you heaved hotly within his contact. you didn't think he had the right to be so outrageously good at this.

the last and the only time you'd had sex was not like this. it couldn't have been like this, you had not even orgasmed.

the rumors weren't wrong after all. sirius black knew shit. the way he toyed with you, leaving you shaking and desperate for him, just on his fingers drove you to fucking hell.

'god, you're so hot,' he whispered, pulling out his fingers, leaving you stranded, without the pleasure of climax. you whined. he grinnned.

'come on, tell me what you want,'

'you know what i want,'

'i happen to be a twat. i actually have no idea what you want,' he said, his wrapping his lips around the fingers that had been inside you not even a minute ago. you groaned, tugging at his collar, brushing his lips against yours,

'i need you to fuck me, black.' he grinned, crashing his lips with yours, picking you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. your fingers nimbly undid his zip, pulling out his cock. you pumped him in your hand before he lifted up your skirt, pushing himself inside of you.

he nudges his forehead with you, as you try to stifle your moans when he thrusts.

'mon Dieu, tu vas me ruiner, black,' (god, you're gonna ruin me, black,') he laughs silently, throwing his head back when your walls pulsate around him.

'je n'ai pas l'intention de le faire, chérie.' (i don't plan to, darling.')

your thighs shake around him, as you pull him closer, as if you want to crawl under his skin. his hand crawls on your torso, as he kisses, bites and licks every bit of bare skin he can find.

'attagirl, taking me so well,'

you groan.

'f-fuck, i'm gonna cum,' you say. he fastens his pace erratically, the tip of his cock hitting spots that made you see stars.

'Ouais? Dis mon nom. crie-le.' (yeah? say my name. scream it.') you groan, rolling your eyes and curling your toes as you feel yourself topple on the edge of insanity.

'f-fuck, black please,' he wraps his hand around your throat, forcing you to look at him,

'Non? regarde-moi, crie mon nom.' (no? look at me, scream my name.') and so you do. you crumble completely as the words spill from his mouth, heaving and clashing when you feel your orgasm hit.

'sirius- sirius- fuck!' he grinned, thrusting into you erratically, chasing his own high. you squeezed around him, as he toppled over the edge, rushing thick white hot ropes of cum into you, before pulling out. the sticky mixture flowed down your thighs. he rubbed his fingers onto the skin of your thighs. with his thumb, he parted your lips, placing his wet fingers on your tongue.

'taste,' he demanded. you wrapped your lips around his fingers, licking tasting the both of you on his fingers. and you saw the lust fade from his eyes, as he pecked you sweetly on your lips. and god forbid it drove you crazy.

how could have just leave you shaking and treat you like fragile glass within a few seconds?

'so would you want to go on a date with me sometime?' you smiled, devilishly,

'i'd rather smash up your bike, sirius black,' he grinned back, showing his pearly white teeth.

'and i'll make you my wife.'

**************************

taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510

(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox.)

FOLKS THE LAST DIALOGUE IS SARCASTIC BETWEEN THE READER AND SIRIUS!!

****************************************

[hips-dont-lieculosis]

I’ve decided to try compile my top ten, post hiatus videos, don’t hate me these are just my options, some of them even I don’t understand, this will not include ongoing series so no Tik Tok vids or Phan twitter or poppys playtime because those would take up too much space, so without further ado, for your viewing pleasure, my top ten post hiatus Dan and Phil videos as of today:

#10, the power washing video, not only is it so calming and satisfying to watch but I love how real they are and the fact that Phil leaves to have a bath, he’s so me, I do love when they play a slower game and just have chats in-between game play.

#9 the don’t scream video, this one is so weirdly soothing for me, I think because I’ve seen it so many times that I know when the jump scares are so I just get to enjoy 17 minutes of dan and Phil whispering and holding each others hands, very nice very good

#8 need I say more, it’s fantastic, love seeing that in the absolutely wildest fantasy medieval scenarios they can think of they both include them being happy together and basically dying in each others arms, very cute, it would be higher if it wasn’t sponsored by that weird game but hey, the boys have to pay that phortgage

#7 DATE NIGHT??? Honestly the fact that they call each other their “partner” the entire time and dan calling out Phil for being like “no homo” it feels like they’re edging us with the hard launch, like we KNOW NOW KISS ALREADY, also the murder on the dance floor little jam sesh, yeah… love it

#6 I love them making observations about each other, the roasting is so clever and playful that it’s not super like “are they actually mad at each other? They’re so cute and it’s really feels like a married couple being like “love you but also I’m going to roast your ass”

#5 this one is a bit similar to #7 but I think it’s slightly higher because I think they both look absolutely GORGEOUS, the silk is doing something, and the content is just banging, it’s the origin of “lamp gate” plus dan just getting crunk on amaretto, good for him, I may have slight recency bias though because I just watched this video again

#4 again probs recency bias but this video is so good, lore bombs AND competition AND it’s a dan vs phil, plus they are so funny in this, dans… outburst, hardest I’ve laughed at a dan and phil video in a little bit

#3 the camera angle, hi dads, Dan helping Phil sort out his drink, chivalry, the background is gorg, they are gorg, honestly any of the dragon city sponsored videos are so good, they seem like they’re having fun, very very good video

#2 I LOVE this video, they compliment each other throughout, they’re reminiscing, they’re cringing, dan looks like a grippy sock, and even more lore bombs it’s probably my most watched video from after the hiatus

#1 the light of my life, she is so beautiful, so horny, so funny, the bits in this like the oven being kinky, love they’re so playful and the baking is successful??????? Honestly probably my all time favourite baking video

And that’s that, I know I’ve definitely forgotten a banger video and I’m going to want to change this instantly but for now, here she is, lmk if you agree, what are your top 10?

[murderofsomeone]

it's probably decently obvious that my main lemon demon design was created BEFORE seeing any fandom depictions (or even really that much official art past the logo) because of how violently he stands out in comparison to other designs. it's a little obvious that my inspiration was self-contained and it granted me a bit of creative freedom along with a completely different train of thought while designing him. his three eyes however is very much a relic of 2022 because I was designing a lot of demons with asymmetrical faces at the time and well, why not make another

anyway here's a comparison of him to my most recent lemon demon original design (where it's a bit more obvious I was influenced by somewhat of a fandom culture)

extra bonus rambling under the cut

my general design process has actually stayed relatively contained with a few exceptions like soft fuzzy man's color and weirdly neil himself. yeah sorry chat neil is the first guy that was highly influenced by someone else's design you can shoot me too if you'd like. but I legitimately believe he's the only real example because every other character that has a design remotely similar to someone else is likely due to us both following a similar source material (like my cabinet design being based off polybius) or there being only so many ways to interpret the design (gef the mongoose would've fallen into this category if it wasn't for the fact I made him Joker colors)

in general I tend to follow a mindset of how "weird" I can make a design or how much I can push a lyric/implement it into a design. I also like to twist around the convention and try new things. a good example of both of these apply to my doctor amnesia design.

really the main things going through my head were "well he didn't state HOW many eyes", chosing an eye color that often is overlooked in conventional beauty standards to elevate them and cause you to think, while leaning into the somewhat otherworldly nature she's depicted in by giving her blue skin, a color I associate with the song.

another fun thing I'll do is create a "design pipeline" where I'll take an attribute and run it through a list of connections before we end up in a place long past where we started or just combining a bunch of traits that could be interpreted that way, resulting in designs like this.

though wolfgang isn't my weirdest design, he definitely did not start where we ended off. I believe before the wizard of oz theming for clown circus was set in stone (a choice that has EVERYTHING to do with oz explodes and an element I'll explain later), he was some kinda mirror object head that had absolutely nothing to do with his current namesake. since I wasn't satisfied with that design, I kept a relative aspect of the personality and shapes and thus ended up creating a really interesting take on a character who is largely depicted as... well there's no really good way to say this, but Bad.

since I was working with a new fresh aspect I started by making him a wolf... and then connecting him to "there's a robot in my head". this kind of connected the dots to ultimately make him associated to the tin man, since no one was connected to that character for the wizard of oz element and it was up for grabs (this is also how he somehow got associated with toasters via connecting the previously mentioned song to "what's in the toaster", etc etc). these pipelines of connecting songs that aren't normally related, but making them Work in a believable way makes designs more interesting for me and gives them a bit more purpose and personality. I think this is what ultimately makes people get a bit lost on my interpretations considering they aren't super simple by just being about One Song, but by being about multiple that aren't originally related in the source material. just like how I connected dr amnesia to when he died, explaining a bit of her more mildly supernatural or off-putting elements by making the man in that song her father.

the final real design element that I focus on is the strange rule I follow in terms of how these characters are shaped. there's a massive sort of "alice in wonderland" theming going on in terms of how human/humanoid designs look in contrast to designs that look less and less human. their proportions become more cartoon and shaped, their sizes are affected etc etc all while the human/humanoid characters stay relatively normal next to each other with more believable design elements.

here's the horrid long strip of nearly 100 different character renders next to each other to get a general idea on what I'm talking about

the silhouettes of the human characters "pop" less because they're supposed to contrast to their nonhuman counterparts. which isn't something I normally do, but given the source idea of a sort of "wonderland", I think it works in this specific context.

in conclusion: I'm design autistic and like to use designing to try new things, which is why I fucked that lemon up. sorry about that chat

[cricketnationrise]

I love when you do these ficlet fests!!! 😍

May I please request 10:46 in the Brownstone kitchen, ACD pov (and Angel Baby by Troye Sivan for vibes, but only if you wanna)

Can't wait to read what you come up with and see what everyone else asked for :)))

!!!! oh boy here we go, another ficlet fest begins!

fun facts: i've never listened to troye sivan on purpose before this prompt 😅🤣 i took some vague inspo from the lyrics and let the spirit move me or whatever. thanks for your prompt and i hope you like your ficlet! :) 💜🦗

see how to get your own ficlet here

❤️🤍💙❤️🤍💙

10:46pm, brownstone kitchen

“What’s all this then?”

Alex almost misses Henry’s softly amused question over the music and the whirring of the mixer. “H!” he says, looking over at the kitchen doorway with a bright smile. “Welcome home, baby.”

“Thanks, love.”

Henry sheds his cardigan and dumps his armful of shelter stuff on the corner of the island and then drifts close enough to kiss Alex hello. Henry tries to keep it quick, but Alex pulls him back in for a longer kiss. Henry’s been gone all day, Alex’s classes were exhausting, and sue him or whatever, but he’s always happy to see Henry. Alex can’t possibly make do with just a peck. Stars, can’t do it, not today, etc, etc.

Gratifyingly, Henry looks a little dazed when Alex finally releases him and goes back to his dough.

“Mmmm, delightful. What are you making?”

“Sometimes a boy just needs cookies, y’know?”

“If you mean biscuits, then yes,” Henry says, but he’s just arguing for tradition’s sake and is more focused on wrapping himself around Alex, tucking his chin over Alex’s shoulder. Alex settles himself to take his boyfriend’s weight and revels in the warmth and closeness as the dough continues to come together in the bowl.

“Glad you’re home, finally.”

“Me too,” Henry mumbles. “I love all the kids, of course, but today was a mite exhausting.”

“I’ll bet.” He slows the beater and scrapes down the sides of the bowl. Perfection. “Moving,” he warns before shuffling down the counter to the waiting cookie sheet—Henry clings the whole way. He’s sure they look like a particularly good-looking and sentient hermit crab, not that Alex is complaining.

Alex could live in this moment forever, actually.

The smells of chocolate and cinnamon and vanilla hang in the air, somehow not clashing with Henry’s inexplicable linen and fresh grass scent coming from behind him. He’s got Nora’s nostalgia bitches playlist on—it has everything from stuff his parents had on in the car growing up to songs he hasn’t heard since middle school dances—harmonizing perfectly with Henry’s contented hums against his ear. The view of a neat-ish grid of dough balls slowly filling the baking sheet is satisfying, but the sight of Henry’s arms wrapped firmly around Alex’s waist is a fucking delight. The squishy-ness of the dough against his palms as he rolls them is weirdly soothing, but the feeling of Henry draped across his back like a cape is pulling most of Alex’s focus. The taste of the dough is a guilty pleasure as he finishes filling the cookie sheet, but even the whole cookie he shoves in his mouth can’t compete with the lingering taste of Henry’s lips on his tongue.

It's a perfect moment: like having exactly enough page protectors for his binder, like a curl falling just right over his forehead, like the sunlight reflecting off the lake with nowhere to go. Alex never thought he’d get something like this. He’d secretly hoped for it, but the reality is so much more than he could have ever dreamed up.

“Sorry, baby, gotta let go for a sec.”

“Don’ wanna,” Henry protests into Alex’s neck, making Alex shiver with the sensation.

“I need to put the cookies in the oven, H.”

There’s a pause, then the heaviest, most put-upon sigh in the whole world—even David would be put to shame by Henry’s dramatics—and Henry finally lets his arms drop and takes a step back. Alex slides the tray in and sets a timer.

“Okay, ten minutes until I have to take them out again. Want to get into comfy clothes or anything, sweetheart?”

Henry’s shaking his head before Alex even finishes speaking. “Just want to hold you.”

Alex couldn’t stop the besotted look on his face if he tried; somewhere June is feeling nauseous and doesn’t know why. He leans against the counter and opens his arms.

“I’ll allow it. C’mere.”

Henry doesn’t need telling twice.

[blueishspace]

Hero, Villain God 67

(Prev) (Next) (First)

*Pearl's pov*

The sky has been cloudy for days now, you hope that It's not because of Joel being mad at someone, probably Grian, but you are also a realist and can only imagine what Grian might have done to annoy Joel that much...

You can't help but sigh, you'll have to force yourself to think of something else if you don't want to ruin your day out... or, well, night out to be more accurate.

You have decided to go out as Scarlet tonight, nothing better to distract yourself then some light villainy after all. And really, a bit of action helps keeping the scarlet curse at bay... Thinking about it you naming your villain persona the same as your curse might have been in part because of that fact.

You have a plan set up already, It's only a relatively simple case of breaking and entering and theft and possibly murder depending on how it goes. The target is pretty small to, an 'ordinary' pet shop and It's owner. But the truth is you don't really care about the shop, you care about what's going on underneath the facade.

The truth is that the owner is head of a not massive but still pretty big dog fighting ring which is using the small buisness as a front. You can't help but think you are doing the rest of the city a public good by getting rid of the trash for free. You also can't help but know that few will see it like that and thaf even less will state so openly.

The Scarlet Curse is just vibrating as she readies to take over, as much as a curse can vibrate in excitement at least, you have to cool yourself. Not the right time for that yet, you wouldn't want to lose a chance like this to impatience.

It's really simple to get into the shop you find: You just put a hood over your eyes, change your voice slightly and nobody notices anything, they let you in into the 'club' without even checking with their boss. They do ask for the password, sure, but that is pretty easy for you to get.

You can't help but cringe at the lack of security, It's shocking the heroes haven't dismantled this whole operation months ago. And It's, weirdly enough, also quite disappointing.

The kind part of you says it isn't fair to expect that what is easy for a goddess would be easy for a group of mortals, the bitter part of you says that they just don't care, that they never did, that there's is no value in it for them...You shake those thoughts away as you make your way in, you have everything ready, all you need is for the perfect time to strike.

And then the time comes, you see the owner as he leaves the basement to do...something and you silently follow behind. From there It's even easier, you corner him and place a knife to his neck. Such a simple threat Is enough for him to spill everything about the operation. Names, places, times, his mother's maiden name for some reason...It's so satisfying to finally get what you came here to find... Then as soon as he's done with his begging a vine shoots from the ground straight trough his heart, now you got everything you needed-

"Robbing a pet store? Really? I tought you were better then this Scarlet"

You turn towards the voice...of course It's Tay, what a fun coincidence.

"Did you, mate?"

She actually seems to he considering this, you are almost offended.

"Eh, not really, you do tend to be a bit pathetic at times Scarlet"

... Excuse she? You are not pathetic! You are just... wilfully incapable at times.

"Still not an answer, why a pet shop? Even for you this is very weird".

You ignore that even for you and move on.

"What can I say? I always wanted to get a pet."

"I doubt that's why you just murdered that guy, you might be a villain but you aren't crazy-".

Well, that's true.

"-Not usually at least."

Nevermind, you take it back.

"Your point being Tay?"

"So why did you really do it? I'll try not to judge".

Huh, not a question you hear often, not genuinely at least...

"I doubt it will change anything, reasons have never stopped you heroes from calling me a villain".

She just hums in aknowledgement.

"Hm. Maybe. Maybe not but I'm curious".

Well, you did make her drop that fish tank a few days ago evennif she was out of costume... so you guess you can spare her an answer this once.

"Dog fighting ring, this guy was the ringleader, if there's one thing that makes me angry is dogs getting hurt".

Tay hums again though her face is conflicted. You stop yourself for looking in her mind.

"I see, well don't let me stop you then"

Huh? And then she just turns around and leaves???...uh??? You can say for certain that this has never happened to you before. Huh.

Well, you'll take it...and you'll take the dogs too, you aren't leaving them alone here... Well you can't leave all these other animals here either.

You wonder if Grian would be less of a nuisance if he had an animal. Maybe a cat?

[twoidiotwriters1]

Chapter 23. Pear Trees

Summary: Benedict wasn't a passing fancy. Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter Words: 2,005 Listen to: 'Losing My Mind' -by Betcha A/N: I promise it's the last dramatic chapter besties, we're moving to Genovia and Genovia's plot is FUN -Danny

Dear Diary,

The pear trees are starting to bloom. I'm spending most of my late afternoons promenading in our garden to revel in their scent, pondering what I can do to make my training more adequate to our present times.

Mum has a few ideas, but I would like to bring something of my own. If only my mind could cooperate and let me have useful thoughts instead of reveries concerning something long over...

Benedict divides his attention between the nonsense his fellow artists are doing in their intoxicated state and the sketchbook in hand, an abstract draft he's been working on for days and still can't satisfy him.

"What are you doing, curled up in that chair like a sulking crow?" Calls one of his friends. "Come have a taste," the man offers him a small bag.

Benedict huffs dismissively at the offer, though not in a way that could be seen as rude—only glutted. "I'll pass, gentlemen. I need a clear head if I want to make any sense of this blasted commission," he sighs, glaring at the paper.

One man, a jolly, bug-eyed fellow named Gustave, waves at his sketch drunkenly. "You're new to being favoured, that's what. Rich folk don't care if you do a good painting, they'll say it is merely because of how much it cost, and everyone will agree because it's art, and they don't get it."

"Is that supposed to motivate me?" Benedict raises a brow.

"Go to Hyde Park and sketch a horse; the lords go mental over manly beasts."

"Just like you, Marcus," Gustave teases, earning a burst of laughter from the group. "You could always paint the Queen's residence. If it's Royal-related, they never dare to show disappointment, even if they want to."

Benedict chuckles. "Well, aren't you all connoisseurs of shortcuts and fine print? All those are clever ideas, but here is the issue: I want to do my best."

They groan and roll their eyes, flopping back on the chairs and rugs with fatigue. Gustave insists. "Do your best for men who can't tell the difference between shading and texture? Commissions are money, Bridgerton, and it's perfectly alright to not put all your care into it."

"If I were desperate for money, I would finish as fast as possible and take the next offer, but I have enough in life to do this for fun—and what is the point of a painting if I won't do what I like to hone my skills?"

"Professor Bridgerton, reasoning his art," a younger student called Louis teases him.

"I value my efforts, that's all. If you think it's okay to stunt your growth as an artist, do as you please. I made a promise to be good."

"To your princess?" Gustave questions slyly.

Benedict is an expert at hiding when the princess gets mentioned, though it took some practice. "My mother, actually. She's decided to let me be until the weariness of my siblings' weddings goes away. Hopefully, it'll last a year or two, and in the meantime, I won't behave in any way that makes her think I need a spouse."

"Oh, how would she know if you're slacking?"

"Isn't it enough that it would weigh in my mind?" Benedict grins.

Gustave eyes him weirdly. "Hefty thoughts in you, Bridgerton? I never thought I'd see the day. This whole renowned artist thing... I'm not sure it's meant for you."

The sound of ripped paper cuts the conversation short. Benedict crumples up the page and tosses it into the fire, glancing at the man with a colder demeanour. "Eat your mushrooms, Gus."

The group leaves him to brood in a silence he hasn't been able to escape since the season ended. Anthony and Colin are enjoying their wives, and Daphne wouldn't be a relief to have around even if she visited—she's so much like their mother, sticking her nose in everyone's business and trying to convert everyone into her married lifestyle...

Francesca and Eloise can't send letters fast enough to keep him distracted. Gregory is away at Eton, no doubt putting on the airs of an aristocrat amongst his mates. Hyacinth, who could be a comfort, is only willing to discuss with whoever ends up trapped in the same room as her for longer than five minutes dresses, possible ball invitations, and all those baby-faced suitors who will be out at the same time as she.

In short, all his family has transitioned into a new age, yet his Academy friendships feel as if they've been dropped in amber, unchanging and frustratingly comfortable in this idle state, and Benedict, after years of longing to live how he yearned for ever since he was old enough to understand himself, knows that this boredom and impatience are symptoms of a single ailing: Y/N's absence.

The idea of taking the throne had constantly been looming over you like a villain that one day would smother you with a pillow in the middle of the night, but now that you're here, you realize this is rather... lackluster.

You love the audiences with the subjects discussing petitions and problems, you meet new faces and feel a little closer to the real Genovia... but the hours spent at the Parliament drag on like snails, not because they're confusing to you, but because your mind tends to wander, and it always takes you to the same person, the same few interactions that made your body tingle just to have no real relief when you come back to the present.

Every day after your lessons, you walk around the castle's grounds, sometimes ride your horse, a sturdy Spanish mustang called Reaper, and don't return until the sun is setting. Your days are so full of activity you can hardly draw, but every day the itch gets stronger—the rush it gave you whenever you'd manage to create something beautiful was like nothing else, and yes, if you had to admit it, it's the only thing that makes you feel as if Benedict were still around.

"There you are," your father's voice startles you.

You smile, the heaviness in your heart forgotten for a moment. "Father. What is it? Did the twins cause trouble again?"

"If they had your mother and I would handle it. They're our sons, after all," he reaches out for you invitingly. "Walk with me."

You accept, happy to have company. Your dad walks you with a tender smile, but he keeps his eyes forward, a sign that something's in his mind and he'll make it known. He takes you to the archway where the pear trees end and pretends to examine the leaves in one while talking.

"You've been coming here often. Is something troubling you? If your lessons are wearing you down—"

"I'm keeping the pace far better than I thought," you soothe his worries, happy to not be lying. "I'm spending so many hours indoors that I have grown quite fond of my walks, that's all."

"Your drawing lessons used to take place outdoors," he remembers, "perhaps you grew accustomed. When your mother was a princess, I would call on her, and we would take long walks until dinner time..." King Nicholas glances at you, threading carefully. "Friendship is difficult to renounce, especially when the company is akin to ourselves."

"I miss drawing," you nod, thinking it will nudge your father away from his suspicions. "It was liberating, being able to put whatever I wanted on paper, whatever I felt like doing with my time..."

"What of that diary of yours? Do you still write?"

"It's not the same," you look down in embarrassment. "I can't write everything... I know that once I'm dead, people will find it—and there are some things I do not wish to share."

"But you can, in art?"

"You can do anything in art," your gaze brightens. "You can paint something and hide a whole meaning in it—like speaking a secret language."

King Nicholas regards you a moment, and then, very gently, he asks, "That painting Mr Bridgerton sent you... Is that an example of it?"

You gulp, then get very serious. "Father..."

He speaks bluntly. "Your mother might've been distracted, but most times, I can get away with standing next to her and not having to pay attention to the conversation so I can keep an eye on you four. I saw you during that first ball when you met him. I saw the way he looked at you, and that was not how a stranger acts in front of a princess."

"How was he acting?"

"Like he knew you not in the way subjects do, but as we know you, Y/N."

"We became friends swiftly, yes," you say, starting to feel cornered. You realize this is probably how Ben felt when you began poking into his private life. "He did tell me once that he admired me, and the painting was his way of showing it."

"You'd seen that painting before." It's not a question, but it still demands you to respond.

"Yes." 

"When?"

"Halfway through the season. I can't recall the exact time." You look down again, a telltale. You can lie and keep appearances with subjects and parliament members alike, but you'll never grow out of giving yourself away when fibbing to your parents.

"You grew fond of him," King Nicholas states. "You don't walk the gardens looking for ripe pears—you're trying to make something bloom in barren ground, Y/N, you can't find here what he gave you in London."

There is so much sympathy in his words and expression that your eyes get misty, and for the first time in months, you allow yourself a minuscule thought: Benedict wasn't a passing fancy. "Are you upset?" You ask in a small voice.

"Depends," he caresses your cheek. "Were you reckless?"

You shake your head, blinking back the tears. "I kept things under control with such precision that now I won't ever see him again... and I think I broke my own heart as a result."

"My girl," your father says, pulling you into a tender hug. "If you decided it was the right thing to do, then so it was. Your heart will heal."

You sob quietly. "I think I might've loved him if I could've." You cling to your dad. "But I know I can't."

He rubs your back in gentle circles. "Walk your grief for as long as you have to, my sweet. Until it tires out."

"Until it dies," you sniff, stepping back and wiping your tears.

Eloise comes back after six whole months away. She's eager to see her family and hand out parcels, but half an hour has barely passed when Benedict shows up disheveled and grumpy.

"About time," he greets her. "You know how long it takes to plan a journey with no specific date of return? It's going to take us a week at best, and by then, the season invitations will have started, and you'll be lucky if our mother says yes to even a week away from London society—"

"Hello to you too," Eloise replies with a grin. "Eager, are we? Are Hyacinth and Gregory no longer fun—I suppose not, now that they're in such a tiresome age..."

"Eloise, can you please focus?" Benedict presses sourly. "You're the one who wanted to run off to Genovia, and yet you're in no rush to secure this trip!"

"Oh, Mother will say yes. It hasn't been a year since Colin and Francesca married, and now Pen is withchild, and Kate is bringing home the future viscount. She'll be happy to be left alone to dote on Hyacinth—been a while since she had a child this eager to enter society."

"That... might be true," Benedict slows down for a moment but quickly returns to his anxious state, pointing at her in accusation. "But the weather acts up during this time of the year and—"

"Good heavens, would you listen to yourself?" Eloise laughs. "You're sounding like Anthony, talking about weather and whatnot. Be honest, brother, you're eager to see the princess again, even if it's just in passing."

"I will throttle you—"

"Eloise!" Their mother and Hyacinth have returned from their calls and rush to greet the girl with open arms, interrupting their conversation.

They take Eloise away in a whirlwind of excitement, leaving Benedict with a buzzing in his head that sounds eerily similar to your voice.

Next Chapter –>

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[the-real-rain-world-confessions]

rotund world makes me so happy. i personally kinda? have a related kink? but i’m also asexual and it’s mostly a platonic fixation slash special interest even, but yeah it just looks so objectively cozy and nice and it is just so beautiful 2 think about being a little creature full of popcorns. beautiful world you have shown me. i love how squishable they look and the rw animation/artstyle is very well suited to it with their matte colors. you can watch them get fatter in very gradual steps instead of a bunch of discretely drawn stages which is very satisfying. and it must feel so nice to be a mostlyboneless scug squeezing through a pipe. it makes me think of the temple grandin autism body squisher. I just like to go into a sandbox arena with a bunch of extra foods around and eat them one by one and it makes me inordinately happyyy and then when i get big enough that the foods aren’t making a significant difference anymore i switch to the popcorn and slowly become an orb. but i also can’t play normal runs optimally anymore because i am tempted to eat 100 pips if i ever see a popcorn and then my parkour abilities go down the drain. but I don’t care, if rotund world has 100 fans I am one, if rotund world has 1 fan it’s me, if rotund world has 0 fans I am dead. I am cringe but I’m so free. I listen to a ton of audiobooks while passively feeding my slugcat in the background cause it is a nice background thing to do and fills me with joy for the universe. so my belly is huge but my brain is too. my favorite rotund slugcats are saint and spearmaster, because saint looks so cute with the fluffy head ruffles and spearmaster gets an extra fat tail, and also they are the rarest rotunds because food can be so scarce in their campaigns so I feel they are a sign of triumph… the worst rotund visually might be rivulet because the gills clip weirdly, but also playing rotund rivulet in their campaign is so fun cause you keep so much of your mobility and crazy jumps even when you’re pretty big. also rotund gourmand is wonderful but slightly unusually shaped because they have a different belly shape than the others already attached and so they overlap a little oddly. (and also it turns out gourmand has the fastest metabolism of them all because they use 7 pips to hibernate every time and so they don’t stay fat as fast.) but yea I don’t think I can properly convey to anyone how happy this mod makes my soul like it honestly gives me an emotion in a shrimp color.

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