#I feel like i lost my train of thought halfway through this one

[tweeksandturns]

And my second written essay of the day (randomized to be posted first): Tango and Skizz.

Out of Five full seasons, these two have been teamed together for 3 and a half of them. (the half is from 3rd Life.)

And I mean, to be fair, Once upon a time there was a “team ZITS” for a reason. Yes, I’m a Zedaph main, no I won't write an essay about him yet. Point is, these two have also known each other for a while, along with Impulse, but Impulse hasn’t been together nearly as much as these two. Impulse was on the same team as them one time and a half, (once again the half is from 3rd life, the Crastle-Renchanting alliance) so we won’t be talking about them just yet. 

That being said, Tango pointed it out in Secret Life episode two, where he mentioned that he and Skizz somehow always ended up together, and TIES, BEST, and now the heart foundation prove that. They always have something, and while Impulse told Skizz irl that he was going to betray him, because they knew each other too well, I don’t think this is the same. They just have fun with each other, mocking each other especially, and I think Tango finds it easy to work with him, in comparison to some of the others he plays the series with. He needs someone that he knows in order to feel like he can actually survive. Jimmy worked well with him, most definitely proved his worth with bringing those cows, but Tango has known Skizz for longer. If he can’t find someone new and comfortable to team with, then he’ll team with Skizz.

Now on Skizz’s half, it’s almost the same, Except he doesn’t mind working with someone new. The only difference is trust. Trusting someone new is something that Skizz can do, but isn’t something he might want to do. Especially after the start of last season, blind trust isn’t something he can start with. So he started on his own, probably thinking of asking for a teammate, but Tango got there first. 

And then there's Cleo this season, but as Tango and Skizz put it, She’s a “traitor” or “heartbreaker.” Which reminds me, these two also probably get together for the drama- 

They sip the tea together, that’s a fact.

[peachsayshi]

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ being wrapped in your arms feels like coming home ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

wc: 1,820

minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.

notes: here is a little drabble in honor of toji's birthday! this piece was originally titled as "adoration" but I changed it to this instead. I'm taking a small posting break, but I'll be back to my regular schedule within a week! I'm sorry if I haven't been responding to tags or messages, but I will do so soon <3 I hope you're all having a wonderful time and I'm sending all my well wishes out to you! xo

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags: widow toji; age gap (reader is 30 while toji is in his early 40s); a little angsty; toji attempting to break up with you but failing because he's oh so in love

toji overstayed his welcome which was only supposed to last the scorching heat of summer, but he found himself lingering through the quiet stillness of fall. winter came in with a brisk chill and gloomy skies, and that's when toji knew it was time for him to end things with you.

he’s lost interest far quicker in previous relationships. they served their purpose of healing over the wound in his heart, of soothing away the ache of loneliness. he oftens forgets that he was once a loyal, loving husband whenever he abandons yet another fling.

the difference, however, is he at least had the guts to verbally cut things off before.

fucking pathetic, he thinks as he scolds himself. he's been a coward, reducing his actions to disappearing before the sunlight peeks through the horizon, and avoiding any chance of waking you up. he ensures that he is never there to see the way your brows furrow with concern when your hand meets the cold pillow, because otherwise he would falter in his attempt to escape.

this has been going on for over two weeks now but last night was the first time you've actually snapped at his cold, detached behavior. he approached the argument with nonchalance to wither you down, shrugging off the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach and then walking out halfway through the fight.

he stayed at a motel thinking that maybe you have finally taken the hint that he's done.

he arrives back to his apartment only to be met with unfamiliar silence. the entrance of his home is dark and lifeless, and it's so quiet he can even hear a pin drop. there's a tightness in his chest, followed by a wave of disappointment that runs over him like a feverish shiver.

despite his hard headed decision, he's still anticipating on hearing your lovely voice to greet him as he walks through the door.

he knows it's selfish.

toji expected many things to happen after last night's fight. he figured the reaction to him leaving you (again) would be far bigger. a screaming phone call or a string of cursing text messages to call him out on his shitty behavior.

after all he deserves it for acting like an insufferable asshole.

he tries to swallow his guilt but it remains lodged in his throat when he acknowledges that this might actually be the end. 

the expression on his features falls.

it’s better this way, he consoles, dragging his feet across the floor to approach his kitchenette. he shrugs off his beaten up, oversized coat and tosses it over one of the chairs. he opens one of the cupboards, and grabs a mug to prepare himself a cup of tea.

she’s too young to settle for a guy like me, he continues. widowed with two kids who he barely sees anymore, working paycheck to paycheck just to make ends meet…

a deadbeat.

he exhales, swirling his brew in his ceramic cup. the aroma of sweet leaves dances up the spiral of steam to kiss his nose.

she deserves more than me.

he places the kettle down but stares at the cup mindlessly, losing all train of thought as his hands grip onto the edge of the counter. 

he can acknowledge that his insecurities are clouding his judgement on something truly special, even though this was only ever meant to be purely physical.

except, the sex was growing more intimate. the experience wasn't about pleasure for him anymore. he would find himself losing all focus to the depth of your pretty eyes, stealing kiss after kiss like your mouth was the source of where all his happiness belongs.

belonged.

belonged.

it’s over now, he thinks again. it has to be.

a faint patter of footsteps distracts him, prompting him to ease his hold on the counter as the muscles on his face relax. his heart steadies itself, and he draws in a breath when he feels two arms delicately twine around his waist.

“you’re...still here...” he points out in shock. 

he feels you press your forehead into his back. “of course, where else would I be?” 

he clears his throat to release the guilt then spins on his heel to face you.

"I thought you might have taken off," he bluntly states as he rests his lower back against the counter.

his heart swells, emanates flurries of golden sparks when he meets your gorgeous irises. the will to carry on with his decision crumbles when he catches the corner of your mouth tick into a slight grin.

"I thought about it," you reply casually, loosening your grip to place your palms flat on the side of his stomach. "but the truth is I'm worried about you and I just…want to talk things out…make sure you're okay...”

“I’m the one acting like a jerk and you’re worried about me?” he blurts.

you quirk your brow at the slip of his question. “so, you know you’re acting like a jerk?”

toji’s eyes widen slightly, a hint of pink tainting his cheek. “I asked the question first.”

you purse your lips playfully, aware of the crack that's been revealed and ready to swing once again with another blow.

“it’s because you’re acting like a jerk that I’m worried about you,” you explain, “you’re not yourself when you’re unsettled about something…”

his face warms, the hue of pink deepening into a stronger blush. the familiarity of pointing out his personal traits feels all too homely. seven months shouldn’t feel like a forever but in this bubble with you time ceases to exist.

you trail the pads of your finger tips up his torso, your hands clasping around the back of his neck as you press all your soft and sweet parts right up against the frame of his body.

the brush of your lips on his scar prompts him to flutter his eyes close. he fails to stop himself from holding you then, his firm hands reaching for the outline of your waist

“so,” you murmur with a tempting kiss as you return to your question, “you know you’re acting like a jerk then?”

please don’t make me say it, he thinks, please don’t make me unravel right in front of your eyes.

he squeezes your side, whispering a defeated “listen…”

“did I do something wrong?” you question, a hint of pain laced through every vowel which only makes his heart ache further. “did something happen?”

toji shakes his head.

“it’s not you,” he grumbles. “look, you asked me a couple of weeks ago if this thing between us was serious and…it shouldn’t be.”

you narrow your gaze, tilting your head with adorable confusion that makes toji want to kiss you right there on the spot.

he can feel you pluck at the fabric of his sweater nervously, “why not?”

toji drops his head and sighs.

“c’mon, doll, let’s be real. I’ve got nothing to give you other than a good fuck in this shitty apartment. you're better off finding someone else and I don't want to waste your time”

you press your mouth into a firm line. “your behavior…” you reply, nipping your bottom lip slightly as you gather your thoughts. “are you acting like this because you…want to end things with me?”

toji has never felt smaller. you’ve reduced him into a shriveled pea rolling around his scuffed up boot. “look, it’s better this way, alright?” he admits with a raise of his head, still refusing to outwardly say what you easily deduced. “it's better to move on before things get too complicated…”

the silence hangs heavy in the air, the tension so thick toji feels like he can’t breathe properly. his heart rattles with no restraint, and he finds himself suddenly lightheaded. an apology rests on the tip of his tongue, ready to take back everything he just bombarded you with but his throat simply tightens once more when your hands cradle his strong jaw.

“I like your apartment,” you quietly speak, “your bed sheets always smell so good, and you fixed the water pressure after I complained that it sucked…”

toji blinks back his surprise.

“I also notice that you burn the candle that I got you and that you switched laundry detergents when your old one gave me that weird rash,” you giggle and toji couldn’t help but huff out an embarrassed laugh himself. “the windows let in the best kind of sunlight, and it’s always so cozy in here…”

you press your lips against his mouth to leave a chaste kiss, “as for the company…” you add on, nuzzling the tip of your nose over his, “I consider you more than just a good fuck.”

toji can physically feel himself wilting underneath the heat of your gaze. “I’m just looking out for you, doll.”

"you can look out for me by making me breakfast instead of running away from me..."

he looks serious but his eyes are sincere, holding a level of tenderness that he only reserves for you. his palm moves to seek out your lower back, a hint of pressure pulling you back into his warmth.

your lover has stayed tight lipped about his past, but over his period with you he's found himself spilling out a few secrets here and there.

"I haven't done this in a long time," he vulnerably admits.

"I know," you reassure him, "but...the real question is, do you want this?"

he parts his lips ready to seal the last nail in the coffin, ready to give you the chance to walk out of his life for good. but you're gazing up at him from underneath your eyelashes, your determined stare an opening of your own mercy. your plush, supple lips summoning his cowardice into oblivion.

"toji?"

his breath hitches, his apprehension silenced by the urgency of his desire.

you're so lovely, he thinks. you feel like home.

"I want you," he reveals, his deep voice smoky and untethered, releasing enough sentiment in those three words that he can feel you tremble in his arms. "I just don't deserve you. I don't want you getting caught up in my bullshit..."

""you're a lot sweeter than you look, you know?" you run your fingers through the streaks of his black hair, combing it back to reveal his forehead. "you deserve to be happy, toji, and...and I think I can make you happy..."

your aura beams with delight when he flashes you a wolfish grin in return. a smile you've grown to adore so deeply. his apology comes in the form of a kiss, one that's gentle and slow. a stroke of fire burns up the back of your neck, making you quiver in places when he glides his tongue across yours. you hum softly into his lips while he releases a content sigh, the barrier he's been keeping up turns to ashes beneath your feet.

[jesterwriting]

pairings: trafalgar law x reader

contents: smut, fluff, soft!law, sleepy sex, use of “good girl”

word count: 1.2k words

note: HI THIS IS MY SECRET SANTA GIFT TO MANDIE!! i hope you enjoy it, i wanted to give you soft law moments so here you go. [dribbles this like a basketball and tosses it at you] merry late christmas @mandiemegatron ily and i hope youre doing well >:3

You were warm. From your head to the tips of your toes, you were warm. Law mumbled in his sleep, one hand on the back of your head drawing you closer to his chest where you could feel the rhythm of his heart. You hummed softly, and brushed a lock of dark hair from his forehead. For once, he looked at peace, his expression slack and no longer hard or drawn in concentration.

Like a cat, he snuggled his face closer to your palm. You chuckled, allowing yourself to cup the side of his face and brush your thumb against his stubble. With a small sigh, his eyelids fluttered open.

“Did I wake you?” You asked.

Law hummed, the corners of his lips twitching into a teasing smirk. “You may have.” He placed a gentle kiss on your wrist, right over your pulse. “What do you plan on doing to make it up to me?”

With a giggle, you pulled his face, and his smirk, closer. “What do you have in mind?”

He thought for a moment, exaggerating the gesture with an upward roll of his eyes. You watched the show with your own smile growing by the second. It was the moments like these that you loved, when Law could be playful and loving. It was a stark difference from his usually reserved demeanor, a Law that was only for your eyes to see.

“I can think of a few ways.”

You didn’t let him continue that train of thought. Unable to help it, with those gold, half-lidded eyes and teasing smirk, you pulled him into a kiss. Law’s lips melted against yours, moving in slow, languid motions betraying his sleepiness from earlier. He cupped your cheek and pulled you closer to him, legs tangled together under the covers. Law’s fingers traveled from your cheek to get lost in your hair, and with a light tug, he stole a moan from you. Swallowing the sound, you felt his lips twitch upward. He was proud of himself. It made your heart thunder in anticipation, knowing full well the direction the night was about to take. What had started as innocent would soon turn into a delectable passion you could never deny.

As if on cue, Law flipped you into your back, his body hovering over yours. With great effort, he pried himself from your lips to gaze into your eyes, his own full of affection. “Ready?”

You smiled and gave him a quick peck. “Always, Law.”

A chuckle rumbled in his chest. He was so close, you could feel the vibrations echo through your bones. Those long tattooed fingers that you couldn’t help but admire prodded at your mouth.

“Open.”

You obeyed happily. That earned you another pleased chuckle, a sound you would never grow tired of. Law slipped his digits past your lips into the warm cavern of your mouth. His skin tasted salty as you swirled your tongue around them, eliciting a low groan from your boyfriend.

“That’s it. That’s my good girl.”

You would respond if you weren’t currently preoccupied. With a ‘pop,’ Law removed his fingers from your mouth and trailed them down your exposed stomach, past your navel, and to your waistband. He toyed with the fabric before slipping them into your pants and between your folds, already wet from your earlier makeout session.

“Is kissing you really all it takes,” He asked rhetorically.

You were halfway through a fond roll of your eyes when his fingers slipped inside of you. Biting back a moan, your breath caught in your throat, and he laughed to himself as he drank in your expression. Law curled his fingers. He slowly pumped in and out of your pussy with a wet squelching nose. Fire ignited in your veins, scorching you from the inside out as he found that sweet spot deep inside of you. You let out a moan and pressed your lips to his. Tongue met tongue, Law’s grinding down on yours while he fingered you, hungry for more. When his thumb pressed against your clit, you couldn’t help but cry out.

Before you could fall over the edge, he pulled away. You whined and shifted your hips upwards, only to be met with a laugh. “Someone’s desperate. You can take it, can’t you?”

Desperate your ass. You could see Law’s need straining against his briefs, a wet stain of precum evident on the front of them. He was the one whose will was breaking here, not you. If there was one thing you knew, it was that Law could make you fall apart on his fingers more times than you could count. Not this time though, he needed to feel you around him, tight and wet, pulling him deeper inside of you.

“You’re the one who's desperate,” You countered.

Law only huffed in response. You watched his thumbs hook around the waistband of his briefs. Normally, he would make a show out of shimmying out of them, make you watch the motion of his hips, fabric caught at the base of his dick, begging to spring free. Not this time, though. His underwear was around his ankles before you had time to blink, your own pants not far behind. You fought a pleased grin. Law was acting like a man starved. It made you feel warm that only you could get him in this state.

The head of his cock teased your entrance for only a moment before he was sliding inside of you with a moan. Feeling full, you grinned up at his expression, his eyes squeezed shut in concentration, lips parted ever so slightly as he bottomed out. You reached for him, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull his lips to yours. Law kissed you. Not a long drawn out one, but several small ones across every inch of your face. Love made your heart swell, and your stomach tightened with pleasure when Law began to thrust deeper into you.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” He muttered against the shell of your ear. “I can’t take much of this.”

His admission made your cunt pulse, drawing another moan from Law. His forehead met yours, golden eyes gazing into yours with so much love, it made you lightheaded. You moaned as Law’s hips snapped to meet yours, again and again, the rhythm growing more eager with each second that passed. You knew he was close when he got sloppy, and sloppy he became.

He gasped, stealing a kiss from you. “Are you close?”

You nodded and brought his hands up to your breasts. His thumb circled your hardened nipples as your spine tingled against his ministrations.

“Fuck, I can’t-” He slammed into you one final time, his cum painting your insides white. Through the haze of his pleasure, he rubbed your clit until your own irgasm hit you like a truck. You arched your back off the bed and dug your fingers into his back. Law crooned, “That’s it. Just like that.”

It was hard to catch your breath for a moment. You panted heavily, only stopping your heavy breathing to allow Law to pepper your face with kisses. First your jaw, then your cheeks, then the corners or your lips, before he cupped your face and pressed his lips to yours. You fondly smoothed back his hair.

“I love you.”

Law’s eyes softened as he smiled down at you. “I love you too.”

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-down AU Part 20

Part 1 Part 19

Steve’s shirt is wet where Eddie’s face is pushed into it, and Will’s hand is clutching his arm tight enough to hurt. Steve wants to sink into it. But the door's still open, and Wayne’s shotgun is lost in the woods somewhere. He hopes the man won't be too mad.

"Okay, okay," Steve says, taking two shuffling steps forward. "Let go of me."

The arms encircling his waist drop him instantly. His own weight settles back into his heels at the same instant the vertigo hits. A small hand clutches his elbow, keeping him upright with a grunt of strain.

"Shit, Harrington, sorry," Eddie says, voice warbling. "What do you need? What do I do?"

"Just–" he closes his eyes, listing sideways. He's so tired. "The door, Eddie."

The door closes with a quiet creak, lock sliding home with a metallic snick!

It's a tissue paper door, Steve knows it's a tissue paper door, but his legs go out anyway, finally safe enough to drop. Eddie catches him, hands clutching hips as he practically drags him to the couch.

"You're okay," Eddie says. "You're okay, right?"

Steve nods. His forehead lances with pain every time he grimaces, and his cheek throbs. The wound on his shoulder has definitely reopened, and something unpleasant had happened to his ribs when he'd fallen in the woods. But he’s fine.

Will interrupts the conversation by dumping the remains of the Munson's medicine cabinet on the coffee table.

"You're bleeding," he says.

"Shit, right," Eddie replies, rifling through the contents. It's slim pickings, but Eddie plucks up a few bandages and gets to work.

His mouth is a moue of concentration as he combs Steve's hair off his forehead and puts bandages across the entirety of the laceration before blessedly leaving it alone once he reaches the hairline.

Eddie's prodding the bruise on Steve's cheek hard enough to feel the bone, when Will asks, "My Mom?"

"She's fine, Byers." He tries to smile, but loses the will halfway through, closing his eyes.

Will bursts into tears. "Thank you," he says.

Steve flops his hand forward. Will takes it. Steve doesn’t realize how cold his fingers are until Will’s warmth starts leeching into him.

"Your Mom's a badass, baby Byers," Eddie says. "She was always going to be fine."

Steve hums his agreement, too tired to vocalize. There, sitting up on Eddie's ratty couch, covered in dirt and blood, Steve falls asleep with Eddie's palm cupping his cheek and Will’s hand in his.

He's not sure how long he sleeps, but when he awakens, Eddie's sitting with his back to the couch. His hair's plastered to his head with grease and grime, and he's starting to smell a little. Steve wants to cry at the sight of him.

"Eddie?" he asks.

Eddie turns to him, a finger to his lips as he gestures his head toward where Will's sleeping in the recliner across the room.

"Back with me, big boy?" Eddie whispers.

Steve nods. "Did you guys make it out okay?"

Eddie scoffs. "We were fine, man." His eyes well, a few tears running down his cheeks. He swipes them away impatiently. "We thought you were dead."

Steve feels small, his voice comes out even smaller. "I'm sorry."

Eddie turns back around, back pressing into the couch, eyes trained on the door. Steve reaches his fingers out, rubbing back and forth slowly, consolingly. "Thanks for coming back."

Steve's breath hitches. It wasn't a sure thing. The line between Steve coming back and Eddie finding Steve's body decomposing in the Byers' driveway was razor thin. He should know - it's painted along his forehead in claw marks, painted in the way his vision is still a little red with the blood that had dripped into his eyes.

"Anytime," Steve says. Does it count as a lie when he really wants to mean it?

"Good, because we're like, out of water, dude," Eddie laughs. "The kid's the only one smart enough not to forget his backpack.”

"Fuck!" Steve says, a little too loudly. Will stirs, then settles. "Not the quarry again."

Eddie laughs, but not like he thinks it’s funny. “Yeah, man. I’m with ya, but there’s the kid to think about now.”

They both look over at Will. His face is smushed into the back of the chair, knees curled up to his chest beneath the blanket Eddie must’ve given him, like even in sleep, he’s doing everything he can to make himself a smaller target. Something unfamiliar in Steve’s gut wrenches.

He doesn’t want to go back there, maybe ever, but especially not right now. Right now, the thought of crossing the threshold out into the wider world makes ants crawl under his skin.

The Demogorgon’s claws are still parting his skin like butter every time he moves wrong. They’d moved through him as easily as Steve’s Father’s knife had while he’d skinned the deer, Steve standing beside him as he tries his best not to cry.

Steve doesn’t want to be the deer. But the shotgun is gone, and so the hunter must become the hunted.

“I lost the gun,” Steve says.

Eddie’s shoulder slump, Steve’s hand falls, settling in the crack between the couch and the middle of his back, stuck there when Eddie leans back into it. “I figured,” he sighs, sounding disappointed, like maybe there’d still been a glimmer of hope that Steve had just snuffed out.

Silence descends. It feels like the force of gravity kicked up a notch, the way the quiet fogs over him and pushes him down down down. The silence drowns, let’s the Demogorgon prowl through his mind. Eddie Munson throws him a brick disguised as a life preserver.

“I saw your shoulder,” he says, barely audible.

“Oh.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Eddie asks, turning around completely, back to the door. His eyes are wide. Steve can’t read his face at all.

“What’s there to do?”

Eddie sighs. “Nothing, maybe,” he says, spinning his rings on his fingers nervously. “I cleaned it up as best I could, but that’s bad, man. We’ve gotta get you out of here.”

Steve’s eyes flit over to where Will’s still sleeping, but Eddie’s eyes stay planted firmly on his face. He doesn’t answer, what’s there to say? There’s no way out of here.

“Let’s just get water so we can stay alive, just a little bit longer,” Eddie says when it becomes clear that Steve has nothing left to say.

Steve nods, asking, “should we bring the kid?”

Eddie opens his mouth to respond, but Will beats him to it. “I’m not a kid,” he says, clearly still half a sleep with the way his words are slurring together. “I’m coming.”

“He’s right,” Eddie says. “I mean, not about the kid thing, he’s definitely an infant, but we can’t leave him unprotected.”

“Hey,” Will mumbles, burrowing into the chair further and falling back asleep, clearly reassured that he won’t be left behind.

“We can’t keep him safe,” Steve whispers.

Eddie reaches out, pats his knee. Steve misses the warmth when he pulls it back.

“We’ll do what we can.”

Steve doesn’t want to go back out there. They’re safe in here, hidden away. But he will. Because Eddie asked, and Will needs him. That’s more than he’s had in a while.

He hopes it’s enough.

Part 21

[ov105]

Express Moon

Never have I written anything where I switched leads so many times. It’s depicted as a quickie, but it’s writing process was anything but. I just had too many ladies that fit what happens when you read more. That being said, I’m probably taking a bit of a break, I still have ideas, but I need some time to flesh them out to begin writing.

Hopefully, this would do good despite the hectic changes that I did.

2,938 words of Jo Yuri. 

Enjoy!

Rubbing my forehead, I slammed my laptop down. The audible thud left me thinking I couldn't take this shit any longer. Grumbling, I decided to plop down on the couch and sleep it off. Hopefully, I'll return feeling like doing my tasks instead of giving my monitor a fistful. I also hoped, for about the second I looked outside, that it was just the storm making me moody.

Lying on the couch, I didn't want to turn on the TV. Reading anything but social media to not further my stress, I was already beginning to entertain the thought of eating the ramyeon or just going to sleep. It was neither of those.

Hearing the four beeps of the keypad lock shook me awake. It was Yuri, and she had only a slightly better disposition than I.

"Bad day?" I asked her.

"Yeah," she lightly nodded.

Sitting on the couch, Yuri put her backpack beside mine and snuggled beside me. She was getting lost in her world—through her phone—beside me. All I knew was she was reading another book on it.

Having moved to dorms just a train ride closer to campus, the only thing that separated us was an elevator ride. It was an open secret between our friend groups, which despite their best efforts, couldn't bust us. And I thought they were better than Dispatch. However, we agreed that we were in too deep at this rate. Yuri crashed into my place more often than she should, often only leaving to sleep in her bed. But besides that, she wasn't a menace either, if only that meant having to eat somewhat less.

But then, she gave me an idea of what she was thinking.

Yuri's left hand snuck down my shirt, dropping subtlety as she slipped in under my shorts and grabbed onto my shaft. Slowly massaging it, I could just imagine the silent giggle on her face.

"Yuri."

I called out, and she just turned to me. Grin on her face. Trying to beat her to it, I knew refusing a hot-blooded 21-year-old was a bad idea. I also needed something to take me off of things.

"On the floor," I pointed.

Yuri stood up, turned around, and pulled her shirt off herself. Wearing a black bra, I knew she matched it with her panties, proving myself right when she unbuttoned her pants—knowing that it was my favorite color of her underwear, one that made her blush when I had complimented her wearing it.

"Couldn't you wait until after dinner?" I asked.

"Dinner can wait."

She knelt without removing the rest, stripping me down until she was right before what she wanted. Barely able to count to ten from throwing my clothes away, opening my legs, and now licking my cock, already halfway erect, in its length before wrapping her lips around it. Her fingers came around like a ring on the base, cradling my balls as her mouth propped them up. Having confessed to liking the feeling of my cock becoming hard as her tongue worked around it. Closing her eyes, pulling her pace a bit, sucking with her lips and relishing it as her tongue cradled it, letting the soft tissues flood with blood, hardening into solid flesh that began striking her palate at every stroke.

As she held her hair up in a ball, I felt her throat starting to constrict a bit as it struck the back of her mouth, making it seem Yuri was wavering. However, she wasn't one to ruin her surprises too early. Spontaneity was more of my thing. Deciding to double down or pull her mouth back could only tell me if we were having sex. She did the latter, leaving my shaft hard and wet as her lips drew circles around the tip. On some days, she decided to play me longer, and this was one of those days.

Giving herself a better grip, she then pulled away. Only using her tongue, licking my cock, stroking it when she wanted to, and sometimes letting the saliva drip down her lips. Her eyes gave me that stare, far from blank or mindless, but told me all I needed to know; she just wanted to give me a blowjob that bad.

Having small, perfectly shaped lips for a blowjob, The way she had me, quite literally, on a tight grip that only her vagina could match. Grazing her lips along one side and her tongue down the other end before keeping it at the tip.

"You like it sloppy, right?" Yuri asked.

I meant to answer, but instead, an approving smirk formed on my lips.

"Alright."

Just then, she caged the tip, played around with it, and then dove down halfway. A loud slurp followed her mouth as she looped, then back down again, a messy slurping following as she rose back up. Opening her mouth at times just to see my cock appear and disappear back into it, again and again. The saliva she was carelessly putting everywhere now gave her all the leverage she needed over me. My cock, now frozen solid in her hands, the tip having glossed over from how much she licked it, the wick, her lusting mouth being the matchstick that had lit it just minutes ago.

A bobbing motion came over her as she closed her eyes and gently craned her neck, not too fast, not too slow. Just fitting enough to fit the crosshairs of what defined a perfectly sloppy blowjob. Maybe not, just biting my lip every time a shock came up from below and a twitch from watching her.

And even when she was at her sluttiest, she was still gentle enough not to play dirty, and when she had control—we were in each other's grip—it was odd to think of thrusting my hips now.

One, two, three; gawk, gawk, gawk.  

That was the sequence Yuri took. Seeing her small face bouncing so dirtily on my cock left me with few words nor synonyms to describe it.

Feeling her throat tightening up as it struck it, now that she was more daring, she didn't seem to mind. It was, however, not unusual to see her trying to fight her gagging on my cock, stopping for a bit before continuing. When she pulled back, I saw her lips trailing from saliva on my shaft or a string of spit from my head when she pulled away. And when she was sucking away, the feeling of her warm saliva trickling down my balls, onto her fingers, and then the couch.

Being her idea of a quickie, she skipped the corkscrewing and teasing to make sure I kept my load to myself. What she didn't know, whatever, was that I liked it more when she wasn't rushing. One thing she did, particularly when she was enjoying herself, was slip a finger inside her panties.

She was only using her mouth, her right hand resting on my thigh, with her left hand's fingers on my groin, still where she had them earlier. By this point, my cock was wet enough, with Yuri slobbering away. Taking a natural rhythm as her fingers slid between her folds, her head began to tilt left and right as she slowed down further. It was almost as if this was just one of her dreams when she was alone with herself.

A minute later, Yuri gagged. Pull back. She got carried away again. Just as she was about to wipe her lips with her hand, she caught my gaze, then, thinking for a second, licked her lips, then the side of her palm under it, wiping her drool off before she dove down on my tip again, carrying on like it was nothing to her.

It was about sending a message—malice—after all.

I didn't talk too much when she gave it to me. That was her department. Unless it was one of us getting closer, the way my expressions seemed, in her words, told her all she needed. I was an open book, for that matter, and apparently, I had let my guard down.

I just watched as she made good work of me, that for a moment, I forget I was a ticking bomb myself. Switching from using her lips and tongue, owning my cock as I presented it to her. Tightly wrapping and sucking hard, slowly but loudly, knowing we had all the time in the world, alone. Though for all her attitude, both of us only shared the kink of seeing one another trapped in pleasure, unable to run away unless we want to ruin our orgasms. 

Suddenly, she picked up her pace. A rapid guzzle replaced the slow slurping, my toes curled, and I moaned. It was an ambush from Yuri. Who looked up at me with a needy look in her eyes that told me she meant business. The same ones almost always stared at me in conversation from across the table, now expected me to blow my load down her throat. I knew better, she thought this would make me cum at that moment, as it had before, but I kept myself at bay, though just by a thin margin.

Finally, she let go, a loud pop, then a lick before she spoke again.

"You didn't cum?" she asked. I shook my head.

"Alright then, I'll help you out."

Yuri stood up with a wry smile before she unhooked her bra, then bent down, and when she rose, she was completely naked. Turning around to show her ass, she squatted down with her hand trying to find my cock. Not needing my help, she caught and stroked it a few times before sliding it between her ass and placing it right under herself. Feeling the warmth of her pussy as she poked it between her folds.

"This is what you meant by helping me out?" I teased.

Yuri didn't answer, instead flashing me a look as she let go of her hand and pushed downward. Sliding easily into her as I felt my tip poke inward, and without stopping, her moans only grew louder as the entirety of my shaft disappeared inside her. I felt myself shuddering as the squeezing of her slick walls threatened to make me cum so quickly. It never helps that we were doing this raw.

All that simply meant yes.

She placed her hands on my thighs as I did on her waist and began to ride me. Taking short hops that made sure she got used to taking me in again after a month. Throwing her head back, moaning and growling when she made her bounces longer, getting tighter by the second as we both eased into the act.

"Fuckkkk..," were the only words I could make out from Yuri as she hastened her pace. I was losing sight of her as she put her eyes off me, though what use were my eyes when she put all of me inside her. The long, slow bouncing she had grown to love in our time together was the only pace she assumed.

With another slap, Yuri then looked back at me, lip bitten. Slapping her ass as I put my hands around her hip, she asked.

"You like it fast or slow?"

"Just fast enough."

Yuri scoffed, turning away, closing her legs, and put her hands on mine. A beautiful display that, unfortunately, I was unable to see as I felt her pick up the pace. Every thrust seemed like the last as her thighs clashed with mine, taking me at full length as I began to twitch again. I felt my breathing getting heavy as I felt the familiar stiffening coming onto my hips, rendering me frozen.

Then, Yuri's orgasm came creeping in. I felt the shudder in her fingers, the shaky breaths, the shifting hips as she straightened her back. We began to lose it as we came close to cresting the edge. Being the bystander as she became more erratic, a sporadic pace replacing the controlled one I thought she could hold for longer. Trying to consider whether I should just let her loose and make either one of us cum first or tell her to turn around.

I made up my mind, and just as my lips opened to call her, nothing came out at first. By this point, she was also building up her release, like a string being pulled back by herself. I thought that, well, this was it. If she goes, so do I.

"Fuck!" Yuri cried out as she stopped, visibly shaking as she hung her head.

"Why? What's wrong?"

"I-it's too good," replying as she turned around. Her face was flushed. She was probably just that close. I heard her take deep breaths before she slipped off and stood up. My cock, hard and glistening, was now uncaged, twitching, and alone, but not for long. Turning around to kneel, Yuri parted her lips, pointed it with two fingers, kissed the tip, and then took it back in. In such sensitive conditions, I balled my fist as my breath left me to shut my eyes and just hang on.

Yuri then tried to talk with my cock in her mouth. It was gibberish. She was filling her mouth with it, after all. But I could make a question out of it.

"Are you going to cum now?"

I just nodded.

I thought she was going to finish me then and there. However, I was let go. This time, Yuri straddled me. Giving her tits a suckle before I staring up at her as she eased in, catching my gaze, then giving me one deep kiss as she captured my cock and slid back down on it. Letting go only to moan as she began to ride.

Figuring that I wouldn't last much longer, she was in a squat, the position that always struck—by prior reactions—the deepest, and with how hard she was riding me, our groins already slapping. I didn't need to wonder why she was so loud.

Putting her hands on my neck, she saw me glancing out the balcony window, feeling her hand push me to face her. Giving me another peck on the lips as her fingers dug in as rebounded to the same barely controlled pace she had earlier. Pushing her stamina to the limits as I felt her pussy begin to tighten up. It was worth the expense. Having already been at the cusp of it earlier, this was just a single sprint to her climax.

I might've even heard a growl somewhere. I hissed through my teeth, not even hearing myself as Yuri became tighter, no more than a powder keg waiting to blow. Anytime now, anytime now. Her eyes were darting about, looking down at her hips, bouncing and recoiling with every stroke, throwing her head up, groaning as she shut her eyes. And when she looked at me, I felt like a bystander.

I didn't even know where she got this much endurance every time she was so close to cumming. Still, I was slipping, and my legs were shaking like hers. We exchanged cusses and fluids as our bodies began to stiffen, with her placing her hands on my thighs as she arched her back to me while I held onto her ass. I told her I was cumming, but I don't think she heard me.

I went first. I felt my shaft turn into a rod as I burst. The first few shots took my breath with them, pushed down with my arms and toes curled along as I hit the couch and swung my head back. And then, Yuri followed, letting out one final scream as she abruptly cut her pace to a halt, letting out an exhale that rose in volume into a shrill moan, her arms shaking as she bawled her fists, her hips grinding as her expression bounced between a satisfying orgasm face into a scowl as she forced herself to move and get herself over with. As both of us shot past ourselves, her choking my cock to get every last drop of it, being the way she wanted it inside her.

I then felt her hand pushing my head straight, one tired breath from her as I opened my eyes, Yuri closing in, and we put our lips together. She was putting her legs down as we were both expended, sweaty messes as our foreheads were on one another and in an embrace as we caught our breaths.

Getting off of me, she was surprised at how much cum leaked out of her. Though having done this a few times, she knew what to grab, not to make a leaking mess of herself, save for a few drops. A stain was still on her legs, of course.

"Wanna go for a second round?" Yuri asked as she wiped and crumpled the tissue.

She was just as spent, and I always seemed to fall for that ruse.

"Where?"

"In the bedroom."

"I'm hungry now," I replied. Well, who wouldn't?

"Fine, after we shower, dinner," Yuri agreed, "Though you're eating me later."

Snarky, corny, but sassy, I just rolled my eyes and nodded, though that didn't mean we weren't showering together. I just gave up hope of dinner on time with a glance at the clock on my phone. It was still relatively early, after all. Looking at her as she opened the door, she turned around, waiting on me from the door, a last chance, if you will.

I just scoffed and stood up.

[socksandbuttons]

Swap AU Stuff

Alright let's jsut try getting down basics maybe

Also this maybe long actually.

The obvious Swaps Lunar and Eclipse: Basically how we meet them in episode. I legit went along with thinking this Eclipse wasn't memory wiped the whole time so thats kinda- in the air a bit. But Lunar being the original body (I have a post showing how Eclipse looked then), Eclipse with the one he made (to be taller. He can't stand being small... Well shorter than anyone really. A shame he has Bloodmoon towering over him.) The Glamrocks: They are as Swapped so Chica is Freddy, Freddy is Roxy, Roxy is Monty and Monty is Chica (I love them immediately after giving them luscious hair im sorry). Rox and Sun are friends and he's quite protective of Sun, also a cowboy cause swap au/Foxy etc. Digi in the discord came up with this and i died cause it was so good actually. Eclipse and Lunar still go thru the whole October Arc with Moon and Sun. Moon being far more quiet but aggressive. Made Sun to hinder Eclipse. Let me paste my lil paragraph i had in discord

"Sun likely has more denial about moons treatment of him, however like lunar he does start questioning if its good for moon to get the star (like sort of getting the Moon Wont Stop so i need to do something he might hurt himself etc) plus lunar and eclipses treatment of sun would be a huge factor too, eclipse obviously is terrible at communcating and while he's a bit of a jerk, realizing sun might be in danger or hurt is something he might catch on faster. maybe. im thinking anyway sun catches attachment to both that outweighs his denial of moon being terrible actually. he's still grasping at things even well after. doesnt realize he gets awful panic attacks until someone points it out actually. and then i lost my train of thought but moon still loved sun just…. very clearly was not the forefront of his goals tho. feels very betrayed by sun after and likely wont fogrive sun. vs sun whos too willing to forgive despite his anxiety screaming at him NOT TO. i just wanna show a different thing to this cause lunar recognized halfway into october and let moon handle the rest and recognizes that eclipse was hurting him much sooner than sun wouldve (see the… current sun. og sun recognizes now but it truly took him a WHILE, communication Real now.)" Anyway, Sun does end up getting adopted by both Eclipse and Lunar. He's never gonna be taller than Eclipse. But as mentioned he's got a lot of things to work through about Moon (Roxy will kick so much ass for him.) Generally trying to grasp that yeah no it was pretty fucked up of Moon to do anything to Sun. Now the timeline gets a lil weird beyond this because like KC would've also been in this plot. KC unlike our Bloodmoon, is actually far smarter (Im sorry to bm fans), he DOES work with Sun but generally more for his benefit of getting rid of Moon. He doesn't really need to be bribed for this actually. Imagine KC being so pissed about Moon showing up in his systems and hes LIKE WTF MAN. Zappity Zap Zap Double Dee Moon Anyway Cue Bloodmoon arriving. And like bloodmoon does- He does technically hold Eclipse hostage but gets bored. So there is mild agreement. Bloodmoon does what KC did and FORCED themself out (like our OG boy!). They're uh... theyre not very keen on sticking around a daycare as fun as itd be to tear it up. They like lightly bully Sun but Roxy to the rescueee. Anyway, 'Does KC die in this au?' No he doesnt. He gets CLOSE to it but Bloodmoon just goes 'Hmn. nah son you're coming with me'. Lunar still feels incredibly bad about it though. Space arriving sooner actually more or less helps like avoid some certain issues here and there. Unlike Earth where she arrives much later (due to be literally distracted.) Space goes directly to the daycare. Thus kinda- changing some bits. He does meet Bloodmoon, hates him though. 'Why aren't you thinking this through' 'We wanna see how much they scream' 'You'll be electrocuting yourself before you get the chance' '...That means Eclipse gets electrocuted?' 'Put down. the fork.' KC handles Bloodmoon with much exasperation. Bloodmoon picked up this sucker and went 'our Spawn'. Baffles KC. Space ends up meeting Crater, Moon got annoyed with Space's presence being literally really hard to work around. Sends Crater, Crater and Space get along well enough that it wasn't Moon intention but this works too. Space (theres irony here) gets concerned with Crater and her not viewing herself with autonomy. She is still just a 'basic AI' as she puts it. Does what she's told. Bloodmoon doesn't really use her just kinda shoo's her off to Space or Eclipse. 'No you're no fun-' 'I have told to monitor you' 'WE DIDNT ASK MOON FOR A BABYSITTER' 'I am programmed to defend' 'We dont need defending either' 'You are still vunerable' '...Go away' 'Affirmative. Destination please?' 'DAYCARE'

Anyway How do i sum this up. Roxy and Sun are besties Lunar and Sun vibe. Eclipse is soft with Sun.

Bloodmoon has claimed ONE child. Doesn't really claim Moon but thats a later thing. Moon and KC despise one another.

KC didn't really want this fatherly figure but he begrudgingly accept them. Funny things happen with these three. Bloodmoon doesn't become pacifist, just more or less moves away dragging KC with them. A little bitter at Lunar's murder attempt but its fine. No one died there but heavily maimed.

Eclipse and Moon still ultimately hate one another. There is a Swap version of Solar thats Moon and- we'll get confused so just know its out there. Space and Crater are good friends and partly why both end up questioning their existence but both support pillars to one another that it just kinda isn't as devastating. Unless someone dies. Crater does end up having her own personhood, Moon does get attached to her even if he doesnt admit it. Space doesn't question creator enough but Crater does and vice versa. Bloodmoon(s) does have a name but ill reveal that later??? idk

[galaxythreads]

unhinged, unconnected thoughts about the Hunger Games 1-3:

Katniss is one of The best female characters I have ever read in my life

Peeta is the definition of sad, wet paper man

I AM SO GRATEFUL THERE WERE CONSQUENCES From the games!! Like Katniss has permanent hearing damage. PEETA lost his LEG

Katniss' severe PTSD was so harsh and brutal and so so so good

Haymitch was such a little guy and I adored him for that. What I really liked about his character was that like -- he survived the Hunger Games. This was not a good thing. He was devastated by the fact that his family was killed and the only way he coped with that was by drinking. There was no getting better. There was no magic fix. It didn't just go away. Then he had to train and prepare 20 kids to go fight in the Games just like he did, knowing that he was sending them all out to die or survive like he did, and I have to imagine that toward the end, Haymitch probably hoped they died. It was easier than living

The Capitol was absolutely horrifying

The PTSD from the Games was vivid and it was so nice to see that this horrible bad thing that happened to the characters didn't just go away because they were in another book. Like it impacted their choices forever

Katniss and Peeta about to take the berries reminded me of Romeo and Juliet and I think that was probably on purpose. Neither can live without the other.

KATNISS IS FREAKING SIXTEEN AND ACTS LIKE SHE'S SIXTEEN

Katniss runs off and screams and cries and breaks down and fails and makes selfish decisions and selfless decisions and like she is SUCH A GOOD CHARACTER. Like I Honestly didn't think there would be a female character that competed with Joan Watson for #1 female for me, but Katniss is like. She's up there.

Gale was overall meh to me. He was There, but the emotional impact he had on Katniss was overall... yeah. just dots.

I'm really glad that Katniss was able to heal enough after 15 years from the Games to have kids. She wanted kids, and the mothering instinct is there, but she didn't want to bring them into a world where they wouldn't be safe. But Katniss having kids means that she does feel safe.

"you love me. Fake or real?" "real"

"sweetheart"

I literally did not realize the Hunger Games was science fiction until I got like halfway through the second one and was like oh yeah, yeah this is science fiction.

I CANNOT BELIEVE THAT THEY SENT THEM BACK TO THE GAMES IN BOOK 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH

like all I'd heard about the Hunger Games was book 1, so everything after that to me was just ?????? and I was SO MAD but it made so much sense from the Capitol's perspective and I so wanted to strangle Snow.

District 13 overall annoyed me tbh, but I did get where they were coming from.

Everything in this series is so heavy. Like you feel the weight of the entire world just seeping down on you and it's actually kind of nice. I feel like the Hunger Games decided yeah, this is a dark, gloomy kinda world and then kept that tone. Books that keep the tone are SO RARE and i adore them.

PEETA PEETA PEETA

BREAD BOY

AMNEISA

PRIM DYING LIKE ???????????????????????? so good. So good. Like the whole reason Katniss went into the Games was to save her and like. She died anyway. Tragedy my beloved.

Katniss being so bad at speeches was absolutely hilarious. She is very much a speak from the heart kinda person and I'm glad that was never "fixed"

I love how a running theme in the series was that they have to document everything. There are video cameras everywhere, recording, always recording, and if they aren't it didn't happen. But Katniss is screaming IT HAPPENED IT HAPPENED anyway. Like with Rue's death.

I love that Peeta is so protective of Katniss, but would wholey hold her bow while she punched someone in the face. Like he's protective of her while respecting her strengths.

this series is dark, but I am going to reread this 4000000 times.

[antiquarianfics]

Taken pt. 7

If Bucky Barnes could time travel, he would go back to that morning. He would hold you a little tighter in his arms, and he would kiss you a little deeper. He would pull your daughter in between the two of you, letting her giggle as loudly as she wants whilst her parents kiss her cheeks and tickle her belly. If Bucky Barnes could time travel, he would have told you not to go to the park—to go anywhere else. But Bucky Barnes can’t time travel, and his wife and daughter are gone.

a/n: we’re halfway through!! I’m sorry this part is shorter, but things are about to pick up!

warnings: swearing, blackmail, mention of murder, themes of conspiracy, canon typical violence.

note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters. Any and all characters are a work of fiction and any likeness to real persons is wholly unintentional.

You do not have permission to copy, translate, or repost my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and reblog.

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previous part | series masterlist | next part

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“What do you want me to do”

Morozov grins, pulls a paper out of a manila folder next to his laptop, and slides it across the table to you.

“This list contains the names of people who are keeping HYDRA from its full potential.

“Eliminate them.”

You cautiously pick up the paper Morozov slides to you, letting your eyes wander meticulously over the list of names presented. Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise as you read.

John Atkins, President of the United States of America

Elizabeth Fitzgerald, U.S. Secretary of Defense

Antonio Smith, U.S. Director of Homeland Security

Nick Fury, Director of SHIELD

Phil Coulson, SHIELD

Steve Rogers a.k.a. Captain America, Avenger

Your head begins to ache as you try to comprehend the names in front of you—the targets you’ve been given.

“You’re insane if you think I’m going to kill these people for you,” you say, bringing your attention back to the monster sat in front of you.

Morozov sighs dramatically.

“Again, Mrs. Barnes, I remind you HYDRA has eyes on your family. Each of our undercover operatives are trained snipers and combatants. Do you really think I’m bluffing when I say I’ll have your daughter killed? Your husband? Your friends?”

You purse your lips tightly.

“The names on that list belong to the people who consistently prevent HYDRA from realizing its mission. If I am to accomplish what our forefathers couldn’t, I need to eliminate any potential threats.”

“And what are you trying to accomplish?” You ask petulantly.

Morozov stands, letting his hands rest clasped together behind his back.

“I thought you’d never ask!” He sings out. “You see, eons ago, the ancient inhumans banished the all powerful inhuman HIVE to the planet Maveth. HYDRA has lost its way over the years, but our purpose is to bring HIVE back to Earth so that he may purify it.”

You scoff and Morozov glares at you.

“Steve Rogers, SHIELD, and the American government have foiled HYDRA’s attempts to bring HIVE back to Earth too many times. The HYDRA leaders who’ve come before me didn’t have the gall to eliminate such prominent leaders. That’s why I will be the one to bring HIVE home!”

“I reiterate, you’re insane,” you spit. You can hear the venom in your own voice.

“I reiterate,” Morozov mocks, “I will have everyone you love killed.”

Morozov presses a key on the laptop and a camera switches to whom you assume is one of the undercover HYDRA agents at the Compound. Morozov hits another button and speaks.

“Agent 0412, go to standby.”

You watch as the agent nods subtly before pulling out a gun, turning off the safety, and walking towards the Avengers living quarters. You suck in a breath. While you’ve been acutely aware that Morozov isn’t joking around, you hadn’t quite felt the weight of your own choices until this moment. You note that every choice you make will directly impact the next choice Morozov makes.

“Fine,” you concede. “Call him off and I’ll do it.”

Morozov grins before calling off the guard.

—

You’re sitting on a jet heading back towards the states. You wish you were headed home, but you choose to take some comfort in the fact that you’re at least leaving Siberia.

You check your gear, taking inventory of each gun and knife you have hidden in your suit and strapped to your body. Then, when you’re comfortable enough with your gear, you pull out a crumpled piece of paper that has the names of Morozov’s targets. You’ve chosen to move down the list so that you’ll start with President Atkins and end with Steve. You only hope you manage to break free from HYDRA before you actually have to kill anyone.

“Agent Barnes,” a gruff voice states, and you look up to meet the burly man speaking.

Ever since you formerly agreed to Morozov’s conditions of your family’s safety, you’d been treated more fairly and addressed more respectfully.

“Hmm?” You hum, having taken to speaking as little as possible.

“Hold out your arm, please,” the man says as he comes to kneel beside you where you’re sat. It’s then that you notice the metal case he holds.

Cautiously, you hold out your arm, and you watch as he pulls a large syringe out of the case. The man picks up a small device and loads it into the syringe. He then rolls up your tac suit sleeve and injects the device into your arm. You grimace. It hurts going in, and you can see a bulge in your arm.

“The fuck was that?” You ask incredulously.

“Your tracker,” the man responds dryly. “Dr. Frost asked me to remind you that you’ve nowhere to run. One move in the wrong direction and he orders the kill shot on your family.”

With that, the man leaves and you sit in silence for the rest of your flight towards DC.

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ko-fi

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Tags: @just-henny @jasminocano @browneyedgirl22-blog @barnesboo1967 @matchat3a @unkasworld @qwertyb2577 @raajali3 @yoruse @iilsenewman @alysianc @fairytalegirlofurdreams @marvelxlevram @casa-boiardi @buckybraneslover111 @hhiggs @smolracoon25 @questionableratatouille00 @heytheredemonsitsyourgirl @thearieunhinged @sebastianstansqueen @middaystarlight @talesofadragon @killerwendigo @ozwriterchick

[da-proti-toku-grem]

17 Jance mayhaps (if you already did it I'm sorry, I love ur style and reading your prompts!!)

Thank you so much 🥰. I think I've officially lost the battle with my “I'm keeping these short” thoughts because this is almost 1.8k oops 😅.

As always, ao3 link at the bottom if you prefer to read it there <3

(Rating: Mature)

Send me a Ship and a Number and I will Write a Kiss

17. … to distract.

“Please, Nacko,” Jan begged from his place on the couch.

Knowing that they had an interview the next morning, Nace had offered Jan to stay at his house. After all, it was no secret that the guitarist was by no means a morning person and, being the one who lived closest to where the interview would take place, it seemed only reasonable to offer him a place to sleep without the need to drive from Vrhnika to Ljubljana in the early morning.

And maybe – and just maybe – something inside his chest was also tickling under the pretext of seeing Jan's gorgeous face when Nace inevitably woke up before him, his features relaxed and his hair tousled. No one needed to know that, though. He was more than willing to take the secret to his grave. It wasn't like someone like Jan would ever look at him that way, anyways.

Once they arrived at the apartment, Nace offered Jan a glass of wine. The bassist himself didn't drink anymore, but he liked to always have something to offer to his guests – in this case, a bottle of red wine.

And that's how they had gotten to this situation, Jan sitting cross-legged on the couch, an empty glass on the small table in front of him and looking up in the direction of Nace, who was standing on the other side of the table, with his pajamas already on and holding the bottle in his hand.

“I've already told you, Jan,” he said, a hint of tiredness in his voice. “You know that on any other occasion I wouldn't mind you drinking more, but we have an interview tomorrow and we can't risk you having a raging hangover because you drank the whole bottle of wine by yourself.”

“...Please?” Jan asked again, pouting and looking up at him with those beautiful dark puppy eyes that had no right to be so adorable. That, combined with the fact that his improvised pajamas were his boxer shorts and one of Nace's old t-shirts that was definitely too big on him – the length reaching almost halfway down his thighs and the collar being so wide that it left one of his shoulders exposed, as well as a bit of his chest hair – was definitely not helping Nace keep his thoughts pure.

He thought about how his hands would feel exploring the skin under the t-shirt or pulling on those gorgeous black locks, how he'd look up at him with his big brown eyes just like that while Nace fucked his mouth, taking it all like the good boy he knew he could be; how he’d love to kiss and bite and mark that exposed skin on his shoulder and neck until everyone knew who he belonged to, how he'd beg even prettier for Nace to touch him, to make him feel good; how he'd look all sweaty and ruined with his head thrown back, moaning Nace's name at the peak of his pleasure as he pounded into that sweet spot inside him over and over and-

Nace really needed to stop his train of thoughts right there before this ended in a terribly embarrassing situation.

“I'm sorry, okay?” He smiled at him apologetically, setting the bottle down on the table as he took a seat on the other side of the couch, hoping the other didn't notice the slight blush he felt creeping up his cheeks. “I know you probably don't want to go to sleep yet so… anything else you want to-”

The question died on the bassist's lips as he suddenly felt Jan straddle his thighs, resting his hands gently on his chest.

Nace simply remained still, his body a bit tense and his eyes wide open in surprise. He still didn't look at the guitarist's face, a million questions running through his mind when all of a sudden the weight of the younger man in his lap and the burning touch of his hands on his chest clouded his senses.

Eventually, he dared to look up, finding Jan's eyes, those eyes that made Nace's knees go weak and that accompanied him in his most sinful fantasies, looking back at him with that smirk he always had plastered on his face when he had an idea. He knew exactly what he was doing and Nace had fallen right into his trap.

“Hello there, Mr. Jordan,” Jan said, his deep voice reverberating in Nace's brain, as his hands went up to cup his cheeks.

He didn't respond, his own hands moving to Jan's thighs, over his t-shirt, while his eyes were flicking from the other's eyes to his lips and then up again and oh how much he'd like to send it all to hell and close the distance between them and-

Before he knew it, Jan's lips were on his.

Nace didn't move his hands, the uncertainty of not knowing how far Jan was willing to take this surpassing the urge to touch every single part of the other's body; but he started to reciprocate the kiss, taking everything Jan had to give him and trying to burn it into his memory, almost as if he was afraid that it was all a dream product of his treacherous imagination and he might wake up at any moment.

Their lips moved slowly against each other, his mouth opening in a silent invitation that Jan didn't hesitate to take, tongues dancing together in a rhythm known only to them.

Everything was so sultry, so sensual, so… Jan. It was intoxicating. And Nace didn't think he would ever get enough of this.

All too soon, the guitarist broke the kiss, pulling away completely and taking his place back on the couch. Nace immediately missed the warmth of his body pressing against his own.

“W-what was that for?” he asked after a few seconds, trying to sound nonchalant despite the deep blush he felt covering his face.

“Nothing,” Jan shrugged. “Can't I just kiss my really hot friend?”

At that, Nace looked up, meeting that mischievous grin before his gaze finally fell on the bottle that had somehow ended up in Jan's hands. Little shit.

“Oh hell no, come here,” he tugged at his arm and in one swift motion took the bottle from him, setting it safely on the table, and took him back into his lap, making him let out a surprised gasp.

“Well, I guess this will do too,” Jan smirked, moving his arms up to wrap them around Nace's neck, tangling his hands in the soft curls at the nape of his neck and drawing him into another kiss.

Nace didn't hold back this time, all the blood he had been trying to suppress from traveling south now rushed to his cock as his hands began to caress the body of the man on top of him.

The touch of his cold hands against the warm skin of his thighs sent a shiver down Jan's spine. Nace's hands traveled up his thighs, slowly slipping under his shirt until they reached his waist, grabbing it and moving his body so they could start grinding against each other.

Deep groans escaped their mouths the moment both of their already half-hard dicks brushed against each other, making them break the kiss, their foreheads pressed against one another as they breathed heavily into each other's mouths.

Without halting his movements, Nace leaned close to his ear and whispered: “Did you just want to distract me so you could get another glass or are you just a horny little slut, baby?”, catching the lobe between his teeth to emphasize his words before starting a trail of open-mouthed kisses and little nibbles along his jaw and neck.

The sound the younger man let out and the way Jan's hips jerked forward of their own accord, beginning to grind down more desperately, told Nace everything he needed to know.

It was still fun to tease him, though.

“I need words, honey. Or do you want me to stop?” he said teasingly. As if you'd be able to stop now that you finally have what you've been dreaming about for so long, the rational part of his brain told him.

“Please don’t stop.” Jan whined. “F-fuck, God knows how long I've been waiting for this.”

That sound, that plea, the meaning those words entailed all sent an electric jolt straight to Nace's cock. He sounded so beautifully desperate and– God. Jan Peteh was going to be the death of him.

“Oh yeah? Do I make you hard, baby?” he punctuated his words with a particularly hard thrust of his hips.

“So damn much, you have no idea. Fuck, have you seen yourself?”

Jan buried his face in Nace's neck, exploring his skin with his lips and teeth, careful not to leave marks in a place that would be visible during the interview and paying special attention to discover the bassist's most sensitive spots. Nace tilted his head to the side to grant him more access.

Neither of them could stop the soft little noises escaping their mouths, getting increasingly louder as Nace's hands started to roam all over the younger's back. They came to a stop at his ass, cupping Jan's cheeks over his boxers and pulling him even closer.

The increased pressure on his crotch caused the guitarist to pull away from Nace's neck, throwing his head back and exposing his throat as a sinful moan escaped his lips. It was probably the most erotic thing Nace had ever seen in his entire life.

However, as heavenly as the dry humping felt, Nace wanted – needed – more. He needed to feel skin on skin with the man that had been occupying his every thought ever since he officially joined the band.

He slowly licked a strip up his deliciously exposed throat, a smug smile spreading across his face at the shudder that ran through Jan's body.

“Shall we take this to the bedroom, kitten?” he asked, his deep voice accompanied with a little squeeze on his ass making Jan blush furiously.

Instead of answering, Jan smashed their lips together in a hungry, passionate kiss.

Nace took that as a yes, placing his hands under Jan's thighs and lifting them both off the couch to start the short walk to his room, grinning into the kiss when he felt Jan's dick twitch at the casual demonstration of strength as he wrapped his legs around his waist.

As he closed the bedroom door and threw a very flushed and now fully hard Jan unceremoniously on his bed, Nace made a mental note to treat him to all the red wine he wished for the days to come.

masterlist | ao3

[cicimunson]

How Steve Got His Groove Back

Summary: Season 3 Steve has lost his mojo, but with a little help from you, he might get it back.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Plus Size Female Reader

Other Characters: Robin Buckley, random girls at the mall

Warnings: Reader is insecure, Steve is insecure, a whole lotta dirty smut in this one, reader is kinda bullied.

Word Count: 3k+

Part 2

“Ahoy ladies, didn’t see you there!”

You almost jump back, startled by the loud voice of the man behind the counter.

The girls in front of you exchange amused glances.

He continues. “Would you guys like to set sail on this ocean of my flavor with me? I’ll be your captain, I’m Steve Harrington.”

You feel second-hand embarrassment for the guy. Sure, he’s cute, but cute doesn’t make up for that ridiculous outfit he’s wearing or how awkward he is.

The girls walk away laughing and you step up to the counter. “Is Robin here?”

He nods and jerks his thumb to the back.

You can’t help but notice that he doesn’t try any of his cheesy lines on you.

Probably not his type, those girls were thin and gorgeous.

You duck into the backroom.

“Robin, who’s the hot dingus working up front?”

She snorts. “Steve Harrington, former king of Hawkins High.”

“Wow, how the mighty have fallen.”

The windows to the front pop open and Steve sticks his head in.

“I can hear you, you know.”

You and Robin laugh. “Oh, we know.”

“Thanks for calling me hot, by the way.” He offers you his hand.

“Hey, I just call it like I see it. If you look past the sailor suit and the general awkwardness surrounding you, you’re pretty good-looking.” You shake his hand. “Y/N.”

“Steve.”

“So I’ve heard.” You turn back to Robin. “We still hanging out after your shift?”

She nods. “Definitely. I need pizza and horror movies, stat.”

You glance over at Steve. “You can come too, dreamboat, if you don’t have a hot date or anything.”

Robin snorts.

Steve tries to look casual and fails miserably, propping on his elbow and almost hitting his head on the counter when it slips.

“Um, yeah, sure, I can move around my plans.”

“Don’t do us any favors.” Robin mumbles under her breath.

You wait until Steve is out of earshot to give her a scolding look. “Robin, be nice. I feel bad for him. He’s obviously lost his mojo.”

You gesture to her erase board. “That him striking out?”

She nods and giggles. “He’s flopped every time.”

You turn and watch him trying to flirt with yet another customer, dropping her change and almost spilling her sundae.

“What’s wrong with him?” You ask under your breath.

“His girlfriend dumped him and he’s having a breakdown.” Robin replies.

“That explains it.”

“I’ll meet you out front in a bit, okay?”

You nod and gesture toward Steve. “Don’t forget to bring dingus.”

__________

A few hours later you’re all sprawled in your living room, the Exorcist playing while you eat junk food and gossip. Robin is piled up on blankets and pillows on the floor, you’re laying on the couch, and Steve is sitting by your feet.

Robin starts to nod off halfway through the movie.

You take the opportunity to talk to Steve a little more.

You find out that you have similar taste in music and movies. To your surprise, the two of you talk for almost three hours straight, never running out of things to say.

“So, today was interesting, watching you crash and burn repeatedly. Like a train wreck, you just can’t look away.” You tease. 

He scowls. “I’m a little off my game lately is all. I’ll make a comeback.”

“Not in that sailor outfit you won’t.” You giggle.

“It’s definitely not doing me any favors. Neither is the fact that I stink of loser.”

“Hmm?”

He sighs. “I didn’t get into college. My dad forced me to take this job. On top of that my girlfriend broke up with me for this dude I thought was a loser but turns out he’s actually okay, which makes me the jackass, I guess.”

“Sounds like it might.” You admit.

“Yeah, well, it’s been a tough year.” He rubs his face with both hands.

“You know what your problem is?” You ask.

“My life is a disaster?”

“Well yeah, but besides that. Your problem is that you actually believe what you’re saying. And you’re projecting it.”

He cocks his head to the side, looking confused. “Speak English.”

“You think you’re a loser, so you’re acting like a loser, and that’s all people can see.”

“Well how am I supposed to fix that?”

“Long-term? Therapy. Talk to you dad. Improve your thinking process.”

He grimaces. “Short-term?”

“Get laid. It’ll boost your confidence and you’ll feel better. People can tell when you haven’t had sex in awhile. It’s like a pheromone or something.”

He seems to be mulling over what you said.

You turn your attention back to the TV.

After a minute or so, you feel his hand on your leg.

You glance over at him.

“Do you wanna fuck me maybe?” He asks so casually, like he’s asking to borrow a pen.

“Oh, you’re funny. That sense of humor could work in your favor.”

“I’m being serious.”

You sit up to stare at him.

He shrugs. “I’m just saying. We could fuck.”

“I’m not really your type, Steve. Not sure how I would help your confidence. And I barely know you.”

He looks confused. “Not my type? Hot is my type. And who says we have to know each other to have sex?”

“My point still stands.”

“You don’t think you’re hot?”

“Not particularly.”

“Why not?”

You gesture to your body. “Not exactly the type of the girl you were flirting with at the mall.”

“I don’t have a specific type. I think lots of girls are hot.”

“Could have fooled me.”

He takes your hand and tugs you close, placing your fingers over his crotch.

“I’m hard as a rock just thinking about fucking you. You say I need to be more confident, right? Sounds like you need to take your own advice.”

You bite your lip and glance over at Robin, who’s snoring peacefully.

Am I really thinking about fucking him?

Steve squeezes your hand, making you grip his length. He moans slightly and flexes his hips. It’s so fucking sexy your breath catches.

Yeah, I’m gonna fuck him.

“Upstairs.” You take his hand and lead him to your room.

Steve wastes no time getting naked, clearly confident about his body. His lips crash into yours and he unbuttons your shirt, pushing it off your shoulders.

You both maneuver toward the bed and he reaches behind you, unhooking your bra with one hand effortlessly.

“Fuck, your tits look incredible.” He latches on to your nipple greedily.

You moan softly and tangle a hand in his hair.

He unbutton your pants and shoves them down, wasting no time sliding a hand into your panties and easing a finger inside you.

“You on birth control?”

“Mhm, pill.”

His lips fasten on the side of your neck. “Can I mark you?”

“Robin will see in the morning.”

“You embarrassed for people to know about this?”

“I just mean she might get upset that we snuck off to have sex.”

“Guess that’s a good point.” He looks disappointed.

Ugh, tugging on my damn heartstrings with that pouty face.

“Fuck it, mark me up.”

He grins happily and you giggle.

Your giggle turns into a low moan as he nips your skin and then starts sucking a red splotch.

“Mmm, feels good.”

He starts pumping his finger inside you. He twists his wrist slightly and uses his thumb to press on your clit.

“Ohhh, fuck.” You whimper.

“Wanna taste you.”

He starts kissing down your chest.

You pull his head back up. “No, it’s cool.”

“I want to.”

“Let me taste you instead.” You offer

You roll him on his back before he can protest. You don’t know how to explain that you don’t want him kissing down your belly because it’s not flat and has stretch marks. You don’t know how to say that you worry because you’re a bigger girl, you sweat down there more than other girls and he won’t like the way you taste.

He fists your hair as you take him into your mouth. “Fuck, Y/N, you look gorgeous with your lips around my cock.”

You lick up and down his shaft. Steve pushes your head down a little further.

“Suck on my balls, please.” His voice is almost a whimper.

You take one in your mouth and suck. His fingers tighten in your hair, pulling almost to the point of pain. You raise your head and take him back in your mouth.

Steve has to fight the urge not to hold you still and fuck your face. He’s never been so horny in his life. Your fucking curves, your thick thighs, how soft and pliant you are, it’s driving him fucking wild.

He pulls you off his dick and up the bed to give you a sloppy kiss, squeezing your thighs. “Wanna ride me?”

“Um, I don’t think so.”

He cock his head to the side and studies your face. “Do you want to stop?”

“No, I’m good to keep going. Did you want to stop?”

“Hell no. I’m about to bust.” He admits. He tugs your panties off and pulls you so that you’re straddling him.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” You murmur, a weak protest as you feel his cock rub against your pussy lips.

“Oh, you wanna be rough?”

This dingus.

“I mean, it’s not my usual style, but if you want to like spank me or something-”

“Jesus, Steve, I meant that I don’t want to crush you!” You squeak, blushing.

“Oh, my bad. I thought you were like, into something kinky. Wait, crush me?”

He grabs your waist and rolls his hips into you. “I can handle anything you wanna throw at me, babygirl.”

“I just meant-”

He rolls you on to your back.

“Enough. Let me tell you what’s gonna happen. I’m gonna eat your pussy like it’s my last meal on earth. And when I’m satisfied with my meal, you’re gonna ride my dick like a good girl.”

You feel yourself getting wetter from his words.

“Enough putting yourself down. When I offered to fuck you, I knew exactly what I was getting into. I want you, got it?”

You nod.

“Say yes if you want this.”

“Yes, yes, I want this.”

“Now, wrap those thighs around my head and let me eat.”

He dives between your legs and starts lapping at your cunt greedily. You gasp.

His hands slide under your legs, urging them over his shoulders. 

“Fuck, baby, so wet. All this, for me?”

He mumbles between your thighs, his tongue flicking over your clit. He sucks it hard, making you buck your hips and groan. His mouth moves further down, and he shoves his tongue into your pussy, fucking your hole.

“Oh God, Steve, that’s so good. Fuck, so good!”

He rubs your clit with his fingers, his tongue swirling inside you.

Oh Jesus this man is a sex wizard. Those girls don’t know what they’re missing.

He takes his other hand and presses down on your lower belly. A jolt flashes through your body and you arch your back off the bed, fisting the sheets beneath you as you fight the urge to scream out in pleasure.

He uses the hand on your stomach to hold you still as you become a writhing panting mess beneath his skilled mouth.

You blink away tears as the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had racks your body, leaving you breathless and whimpering.

Steve is falling apart between your legs. Your little moans, the way you taste, how responsive you are, it’s enough to make him insane. He’s whimpering himself, and rubbing his cock against your mattress, desperate for any friction as his precum leaks out on your sheets.

He wants you to cum again. He wants to taste you a little longer. His face being buried in your cunt is his favorite place in the world now, he decides, and he wants to make the most of it while he’s here.

He sucks your clit again, sliding two fingers inside you easily.

You gasp and roll your hips. “Steve, oh fuck, you’re still going?”

He mumbles against your clit and it sends pleasure shooting through you. His fingers pump inside you expertly, knowing exactly how to bend and where to press to send you flying over the edge again. It’s more intense this time, and you have to clap your hand over your mouth to keep from yelling as you cum for the second time. It feels like an out-of-body experience.

You start to come down from you high and realize that Steve is still eating your pussy. You whimper from how sensitive your clit is and gently push his head away.

He looks up at you with lust-blown pupils, his lips and chin wet. He looks fucking feral.

There he is. He’s got it now.

He grabs your waist and flips you on top of him effortlessly, slapping your ass.

You barely have time to get your balance before he’s pushing himself inside you. You slap your hands on his chest and groan as he wastes no time bottoming out in you.

“Fucking ride me, baby. Ride my cock.” He hisses through clenched teeth. “Let me see those tits bounce.”

You start at a slow pace but Steve isn’t having it. He sits up slightly, locks an arm around you, and drives his hips up into you.

“Harder.” He grunts in your ear. “Make it hurt a little.”

You rake your nails down his back and clench your pussy muscles around him.

He sinks his teeth into your tit, groaning your name against your skin.

“Fuck, Steve, don’t stop.”

He looks up at you, pouty pink lips begging to be kissed. You press your lips to his, locking into a heated kiss that leaves you breathless.

“Need this.” He mumbles against your mouth. “Need you.”

You moan. Something shifts between you. You aren’t sure when or how it happens, but you’re suddenly kissing him softly, his thrusts slowing down, becoming lazy and gentle.

His lips mold against yours. “Mmm, baby, just like that. Riding me like such a good girl.”

“Such a good girl for you.” You whimper.

“Come on baby, cum for me.” He pleads. “Wanna see you fall apart for me.”

His hand slips between the two of you and he rubs your clit.

You feel your body start to tighten again. You clench around him, burying your face in his shoulder. He grasps your chin and pulls your face up.

“No, baby. Wanna see it. Wanna watch you cum.”

“Please….Steve…so close.” Your thighs burn from riding him. You wanna stop but you speed up instead, chasing that third orgasm. Steve speeds up too, falling back into the bed and digging his heels into the mattress to push deeper into you.

You can’t help it. You cry out loudly, almost screaming his name as you cum again. He pulls you down for a kiss to quieten you, capturing your cries with his mouth.

His hips stutter, and he slams into you once more with a hoarse cry of his own, shooting his load deep inside you.

He rolls and tucks you into his side, kissing you once more.

“I may never let you out of this bed.” He murmurs into your hair.

You giggle. “As much fun as that sounds, I think Robin would have an aneurysm if she woke up and found us like this.”

“Yeah, I guess I should probably go. Just tell her I left after the movie.”

You feel a twinge of disappointment but ignore it as you both get dressed and you walk him out.

This was just to help him get his mojo back. It was a one time thing. Don’t read into it, don’t dwell on it.

He kisses your cheek. “I’ll see you.”

“See ya.” You echo. He’s out the door. You curl up on the couch and fall asleep almost instantly.

__________

You’re back at the mall a few days later, feeling nervous as you head into Scoops. You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Steve. You were a little worried about seeing him today.

He’s standing by the counter, talking to some gorgeous blonde girl who looks like she’s never eaten ice cream a day in her life. You glance around for Robin. Assuming she’s in the back, you duck behind the counter.

Steve notices you out of the corner of his eye and stops mid-sentence.

“Y/N, hey!” He calls out, waving to you.

You wave back, plastering a friendly smile on your face.

He pats the blonde on the shoulder and hurries over to you.

“Haven’t seen you in a few days.”

“Mhm.”

“It is weird if I say I missed you?” He blushes.

You ignore his question and gesture to the girl. “Looks like you got your mojo back.”

“Yeah, all thanks to you. You’re the best.” He kisses your cheek.

No, I’m a fucking idiot.

Robin sticks her head out the window to the back. She takes one glance at your expression and instantly knows what’s going on. You hadn’t said anything, but she’d seen the hickeys on your neck and the stains on your sheets and instantly put two-and-two together.

“Well I won’t keep you from your blonde friend, will you let Robin know I’m waiting outside?”

He nods. “Do you want some ice cream before you go?”

You start to shake your head.

“Of course she does.” The blonde mutters.

Oh, what a bitch.

To your surprise, Steve levels a stare at her and cocks an eyebrow.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She looks flustered. “I mean, who doesn’t want ice cream? It’s so good.”

You cross your arms and glare at her. “I’m sure that’s what you meant.”

She rolls her eyes and turns back to Steve, smiling coyly. “So did you want my number?”

Steve shakes his head. “I’ll pass, thanks.”

Her mouth drops open. “Really?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, really.”

She stalks off.

Steve turns back to you. “So, movie night tonight?”

“You didn’t have to do that, Steve. I wouldn’t have cared if you got her number.”

“Rude isn’t my type.”

“I’m rude.”

“I made an exception for you.” He winks.

You can’t help but giggle.

“So, tonight?” He asks hopefully.

“Movie night sounds great, actually. Robin, you in?”

She shakes her head. “No thanks, I have plans. But you two have fun.”

Steve turns out of Robin’s line of sight and wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Oh, we will.”

[crooked-jes]

wip wednesday :)

thanks for tagging me, @urmomsonfire!!!! <3<3<3

here's a little snippet from my fake relationship fic. it's long as hell (sorry) but it's my beloved excerpt and i'm sticking a big "made with love" sign onto it. enjoy!

Bradley takes the initiative of cleaning after breakfast while Hangman is scrolling through his phone, still at the dining table. He washes all the dishes and wipes the counter clean, and then the still unpacked tote bag catches his attention, so he steals a quick glance inside. There are some basic ingredients in the bag and Bradley can’t help his curiosity, so he asks,  “What are you gonna cook?” “Pasta,” Hangman answers, and when Bradley turns around, he’s still looking at his phone. “There’s no pasta in the bag, though. Aaand,” he prolongs the vowel and hesitates for a second, “I might’ve forgotten to restock,” Bradley finishes, a little embarrassed, and scratches the back of his head. Hangman’s eyes shoot up in his direction. “I’m not serving my Italian family store-bought pasta.” Bradley blinks.  “So what, you’re gonna make it from scratch?” “Yes?” Hangman says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. They both stare at each other like the other one has lost his mind before Bradley finally raises a brow and cracks a smile. “Nat is never gonna believe it,” he says before grabbing his phone from where it's lying next to the coffee machine and opening the message box. That seems to spur Hangman into action because he suddenly stands up, the chair legs scratching on the wooden floor, and he’s at Bradley’s side in the blink of an eye. “You’re not texting Phoenix about this, you dick,” he grumbles and tries to take the phone out of Bradley’s hands, but Bradley puts it out of Hangman’s reach. “Oh, I’m totally texting Phoenix about it,” Bradley says and extends his arms even farther, trying to type while also holding his phone up. He’s halfway through the message when he feels a punch right to his gut, fairly light but strong enough to make him wince and bend in half, and soon the phone is out of his hands and Bradley pouts, though he’s not really upset about the loss. “You’re a buzzkill, Hangman.” “Jake.” “What?” Bradley furrows his brows, confused. “Jake. You weren’t gonna call me by my callsign in front of my mother, were you, Bradley?” He quirks a brow. There's a ghost of an amused smile on his lips, and Bradley blinks. “No? Of course I wasn’t.” He tries to sound convincing, but Hangman—Jake doesn’t seem to buy it, his eyes all-knowing. It’s not like Bradley has never thought of Jake as Jake. There was a time in the past when he’d let himself do that, back when Jake wasn’t Hangman yet and Bradley wasn’t Rooster, back when their egos hadn’t yet led them to rivalry so big that any kind of truce or friendship was out of the question. It all changed after the mission, but… it was just easier this way—calling him Hangman. It put some distance between them, allowed Bradley to breathe. Helped him not to feel like he was so close to the flame that he could get burnt at any second if he let his focus slip. So “Hangman” it was. Until now, apparently. Jake clears his throat. His voice is confident and steady when he speaks, but his gaze is fixed on the counter before him, not meeting Bradley’s. Instead, they are trained on the bag handles he's fiddling with. “Want me to teach you?” It’s an olive branch, one of the many they have offered each other in recent months. Bradley takes it without hesitation. “Sure.”

i'm tagging @whistler-king, @acetonitril, @cottagecori, @jaggedstartalk, @karlmschwartz, @hangmanbradshaw, @indybob, @icezansky and everyone who wants to join <3 go wild with it

[lovemaiyo]

CANT GET ENOUGH OF YOUR LOVE, 나의 천사 ! dan heng. ★ honkai star rail modern au. ⊹ note . idk

yet again, your mom had forgotten to pick you up. it was 5pm, and none of your friends were willing to give you a ride. "walk home." one of your friends had said ("fuck off," you'd said back.) the only option left was to ride the public train with the kids from the private school across from yours. that was all nice and cute, but there was one problem. you hadn't known that the kids (or kid, in this case) from that private school would be this... attractive? especially the one you were sitting across from. he was sitting on the seat, slightly manspreading. he had a lean and fairly muscular body from what you could see. his black hair was dissheleved and fell across his face, a sharp contrast to his viridescent eyes. he was half-heartedly listening to whatever his friend, a girl with short pink hair, was saying. she was talking animatedly about something, while he sat there, listening, looking totally uninterested. your first thought was - look cool ! - so you wore your school jacket and slightly unzipped it, and took out your phone and started aimlessly scrolling through your settings app and typing stuff on the search bar. the ride was a long one - you didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. some time passed. you stole glances at the cute guy in front of you. once, his friend caught you. she didn't say anything but you could feel her smirking. you almost died of embarrassment then and there. the pink girl started making hand motions and excitedly talking to the guy. suddenly he said - "march, do you have a pen and a few scraps of paper?" "hm? yeah, dan heng, but why?" he just hummed. march rummaged through her bag and proudly presented a messily torn half of a page, and a bright pink pen. the guy - whos name was dan heng - took the paper, tore it in half again, and quickly scribbled something. he stuck it on march's head. it said.. it said "free kicks?!" you almost snorted and quickly hid your face. dan heng tucked the other paper in his hoodie pocket. about halfway, you fell asleep. unbeknowst to you, march was wiggling her eyebrows and making kissy faces towards you and dan heng. dan heng groaned. he had to admit, you were pretty cute. he noticed you taking quick peeks at him earlier. he knew he was attractive, he just didn't have any interest in dating. until now, when he met this cute little stranger on the train. "their uniform looks like the same one from the school across the street, no?" march whispered. ".." dan heng answered. he was too busy looking at your sleeping face. "ew, danny boy, are you staring at them sleep? creep!!" march exclaimed. "... march, stop making it weird.." dan heng groaned. the train suddenly hit some bumpy tracks and you jolted awake. you rubbed your eyes and sighed before realizing you were still on the train... with the cute guy... HOLY SHIT, YOU WERE ON A TRAIN WITH A HOT DUDE!! you quickly fixed your messy hair from the short nap (unless ur bald 😓🙏🏻). the train intercom announced the next stop, which was about 5 minutes before the stop you got off on. those 5 minutes passed rather quickly. march was on her phone, taking pictures while dan heng was resting, eyes closed and arms crossed. " ding ding !! the train is now approaching xxxxxx stop ! please gather all belongings, as the train staff are not responsible for any lost objects . " that was it, that was your stop ! in your haste, you forgot your phone on your seat. you were halfway off the station when you felt your right pocket and said - "fuck, i forgot my phone !" you rushed back into the train. thankfully, the doors were still open and your phone was still there. march and dan heng were gone, though. you quickly grabbed your phone when you saw something fall out from the bottom. it was a piece of paper ?

" you're cute . +123 45678910"

scribbled in pink ink.

[skelly-words]

Sukuna/gn!Reader

Summary- this is a little fic I wrote in one sitting kinda based off my headcanons. There’s a whole outline for their relationship that I have going on in my head, but this is when they meet in college. I think they’re both juniors or seniors.

this isn't even a meet-cute or anything because Sukuna is such a douche. He doesn't even tell the MC his name bruh.

It’s a quiet morning. School is busy; study, lecture, homework, exams, repeat. It’s gotten better as the year progresses and you settle into a quiet routine. These mornings are nice; when you’re forced to get up with the sun and walk to the bus you take to campus.

Your professor is boring. He’s an older man who probably had amazing ideas in his youth. But now, he often loses his train of thought halfway through equations. It made the class difficult to take notes in and the final would suck, but as long as you passed, it didn’t matter. As an act of mercy, lecture ends early. You slide your hefty laptop into your bag and sling it over your shoulder. The next class you have is still a few hours away. You walk to the West end of campus, where a cluster of cafes supplies students with caffeine and a warm place to study when the weather gets icy. It’s too busy for you to hang around, so you just get a coffee and look for somewhere quieter to be. 

The library always has people in it, but the stacks go so deep and two stories tall, so it’s always easy to get lost in them and avoid people completely. It smells like old books and you nestle on the floor in the science fiction section with your jackets and coffee. What starts as studying quickly devolves as you find a familiar-looking title staring at you from between the shelves and you start to read. 

People filter in and out of the library as classes end and begin, finding a place to camp out through the awkward gaps in their day. You just watch them pass down the hall between the shelves.

“Are you stalking people from back here?”

The sound of someone else’s voice made your heart jump. You first feel ashamed of being caught until you realize that you’ve done nothing wrong. You gather yourself up from the floor, novel, jacket, coffee and bag, before turning around.

“Excuse me?” You mumble, attempting indifference while trying to keep your jacket pinned against your side. He’s too tall, where you feel a little uneasy at the difference, so you stay focused on the off-white linoleum instead.

“I’m just messing with you. Can I get to Asimov, though?” He seems as good with manners as you are, awkwardly gesturing that you move to the side. You stare dumbly at the tattoo marks that wrap around his wrists as he tries to sweep you out of the way.

“Excuse me?” you repeat.

“I like Isaac Asimov. His shelf’s behind you.”

“Shit, sorry.” You step to the side and watch him bend over and examine the titles. His jaw flexes from side to side with his shifting weight as he reads. More tattoos are visible on his face, dramatically following his features, but those are all you can see. It’s like the lines on his face and bands on his wrists are placed just to subtly imply more, a teasing notion that’s satisfied when the sleeve of his t-shirt lifts enough to show the band on his bicep.

“I was reading, not watching people back here.”

He hums noncommittally and continues his search for whatever novel he’s looking for. “You're watching me, creep.” He turns his head quickly to catch you in the act.

“I’m waiting for you to get out of my spot. I was reading there,” you say indignantly. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he trails off. His finger runs down the spine of a paperback and he tugs it free from the tight shelf. “You stole my corner though.”

You scrunch up your nose like your one-hour stake on the science-fiction section means something. “Why do you read back here?” 

“Like you can talk. I found you back here,” he says like you are a specimen or discovery. “Why’re you reading back here?”

“I meant to study, but I shouldn’t have surrounded myself with interesting books. Plus, like you said, I’m a creep. I like it back here.”

You glance up at him to see the same studying look he’d given the books being used on you. He’s thinking about what to say next for longer than he should have to.

“What’s your name, huh?” he matches the question with a soft tilt of his head. His brows furrow when you don’t answer after a beat. “C’mon, I wanna know you.”

“Yeah.” You’re not sure when your skepticism becomes rude, probably whenever he decides to become offended by the shrewd up-and-down glance you give him. “What’s yours?” You know him, not personally. But he’s an athlete and you recognize his tattoos and bright eyes from your University’s social media posts. His widening grin meant that he could tell you were bullshitting around.

“Who gives a fuck about me,” he dismisses, in a heavy breath like he’s just as exasperated with himself as you are. He steps closer, and you can see the dark metal of his piercings glimmer in the low light, one in each ear, and a band around the center of his bottom lip. “What’s your name?”

You can smell his cologne and it makes your name slip from the tip of your tongue. You didn’t mean for it to come out, tightening your lips into a fine line as if that could take it back. He laughs and repeats it twice to you. His tongue runs over the syllables slowly the first time, and the second time to tease as your face begins to warm.

“You’re real fucking funny.”

“I’ll be even funnier over text.” He grins and takes his phone out of his back pocket.

“I’m not dati- I don’t date.” You wish it sounded firmer, arms crossed over your chest in defense.

“Me neither.” He hands you his open Instagram. Apparently, you don’t make the cut for new contact.

“I’m not ‘not dating’ either. That’s not my thing.” But you take his phone anyway and look yourself up.

“Oh, so like-” he seems to think for a moment while you take out your phone to approve his follow request. “You wanna be friends?” It’s a stale and disappointed question that you can tell he knows the answer to.

“If that’s not cool with you then don't worry about it.” You shrug and readjust the strap of your bag on your shoulder. “As long as I get to keep my new follower, I don’t see a difference.”

a/n- radiohead starts playing. Anyway, probably won’t make this a legit series, but if y’all like it I’ll write more of this au. It’s friends to lovers but not super slow (in my imagination because let me reiterate: none of this is actually written).

Are the banners and breaks working? bc I'm so sick of my blog being busted as fuck. I regret being a tomboy my whole life bc now idk how to be cute and aesthetic and I'm filled with rage asdijfaoiwjdvcois

[kararisa]

marigold promises

— 16. hell week [☕︎ = 0.4k words]

cw: disorientation caused by illness

There’s no other way to describe it: you feel like absolute shit. If you were just a bit more coherent, you’d curse yourself for not sleeping in today. But alas, here you are in this damned clinic when you could have been acing that recitation in Communications.

You don’t know how long it’s been since you tried to fall asleep — the persistent hum of the AC combined with the fact that it feels like you stepped into Snezhnaya without proper winter clothing makes it hard for you to get some rest, and the towel on your forehead, while helping in the reduction of your temperature, certainly doesn’t make the chill more bearable.

You’re unsure of whether you’re awake or asleep when the opening of a door breaks the silence. You strain your ears to listen to the sound of footsteps, barely able to hear a familiar voice.

“Is it alright if I watch over my friend?” he, Albedo, asks. The nurse says yes and tells him you’re currently resting.

The footsteps get louder until they’re right next to your cot, then you hear the creaking of a chair as you presume he’s taken the seat to your right. You don’t bother to ask why in the world he’s chosen to be here, your piercing headache and lightheadedness discouraging you from moving.

The hum of the AC lulls you into a half-awake half-asleep state and you barely notice when Albedo starts to gently caress your head. You won’t deny that it helps ease your headache, even just a little bit.

A part of you wishes he’d do this more often. That he’d do this while you weren’t delirious from a cold and barely able to focus.

“You need to take care of yourself more, Cupcake,” he mumbles, “How am I supposed to do my best when you’re not there to compete against me?”

At this point, you’re sure the meds are kicking in or you’re in the middle of some fever dream. Because you definitely mishear what he says next.

“I miss you; sometimes I wonder if you miss me too.”

A pause. A breath.

“But I hope you don’t. It’s easier for us that way.”

Is it really, though? Or is that just an excuse — something we tell ourselves to justify keeping our distance from each other?

A buzzing sound interrupts his train of thought. You hear the chair creak, his footsteps moving away from you.

“Hello? Yes, I’m okay,” a pause.

“I’m… not in class right now, why? Do you need me to pick her up?” another pause.

Albedo hums, “Alright. Take care.”

He doesn’t even make it halfway out the door when the bittersweet embrace of slumber finally overtakes you.

— previous || masterlist || next

summary: it was evident that you and albedo have changed in the five years you’ve spent apart, but you know better than to view him through the lens of nostalgia. with one goal on your mind – graduate valedictorian – who better to stand in your way than the studious, intelligent, ice-cold albedo? one thing’s for sure: he’s going down.

author's notes:

the bitter irony here is that i'm posting this while battling a headache

i had a bit of trouble writing this scene since yn's keeping their eyes closed in an attempt to quell their headache and ignore albedo but i think it turned out pretty well

taglist (i): @fvkkyu @mintreen @edreee @khyllynnn @xxmirrorballxx @aiikalvr @yaefics @unsterblich-prinz @aequha @alch3myy @lovely-althxa @nei-rinn @cridtiins @zestrya @skylions-den @moriiartt @theother-victoria @sunsethw4 @dazaisfavgf @serossidechick @koiir @lazy-sanns @sweetbunnybunbun @dee-zbignuts @redactedhimbo @yurstepm0m @fanfictwarrior @fuyaa @saoiirsee @ireallylikehamsters @elfxiao @whos-angelx @kitsuvil @orionicchaos @blurr3db3rry @semi-orangeapple @kunikuzushiit @atlatcaheart @wrrapedroundmyfingerlikearing @jewelscara @lost-wicked-artist @kairxse @elysiasbae @eurekatanya @empathum @tatiratty @zannivrs @mikismusings @sunoo-bby @astolary

— the taglist is currently open! if you’d like to be added feel free to reply or send in an ask! – if your blog isn't highlighted it means i can't tag you.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

What are your favorite royal wedding looks and flowers

I answered a lot of these in the other ask so I'm going to use yours to do a deeper dive into most of the Millennial royal weddings. You want opinions, you're getting opinions today!

Quick aside: I mainly follow only the British royals. I pay some attention to the other European royal families and a little bit of attention to the Jordanian Royal Family. So that’s what this commentary will focus on. Because I don’t follow the Middle Eastern, Asian, or African royals (and subsequently don’t know much about them), I don't feel it's appropriate for me to give commentary on their wedding looks/styles when I don't know who they are. Obviously, as you'll see, my favorites are the BRF so the commentary does skew heavily towards them.

Adding this halfway through: This is a really text-heavy post so I'm going to break up the rambling with my favorite photo from each wedding.

Crown Princess Victoria, June 2010

The Cameo Tiara is my favorite. It paired very nicely with the heirloom veil. Loved that she went for off-the-shoulder short sleeves. Not really a fan of how the train attached at her waist (vs being all one dress), but it really worked for her.

Kate, April 2011

I loved how timeless her whole look was. If you take everything out of the picture and just look at her and the dress, it's magnificent. It works in black and white 1950s vintage. It works in the modern fashion era. It works for her as the individual girl she was at that time. It works for the future she's growing into.

Not a fan of the hairstyle and the tiara. It was a complete miss for me. She should've gone full updo or full Chelsea blowout instead of the halfway compromise. The tiara, meh. Didn't really add anything to me. After seeing the floral headpiece she commissioned for the coronation, I would have loved to see what she'd have done for the wedding since a floral headpiece is what she originally wanted to wear. I also thought her hair was a smidge too dark, but maybe that's the contrast with all of the ivory around her. I much prefer the golden/bronzey highlights she has now and I think it would've helped the contrast better.

Thought the flower girl dresses were a tad too long and that her bouquet was out of place. It needed to be more substantial for such a formal occasion. Either more flowers/bigger shape or bigger blooms.

Something about Hugo Burnand's work always throws me off. I think it's the scale and the perspective he uses; the subjects are too far away from the camera that their backgrounds seem to swallow them up. Didn't like most of their wedding portraits because of that. They kinda ended up looking like cardboard cutout versions of themselves.

Overall, a perfect day. It was nostalgic without being maudlin. Modern without being trendy. Celebratory without being excessive. Traditional without being stodgy.

Charlene, July 2011

I like her dress. Reminds me a lot of Crown Princess Victoria's, but with a lovely embroidery detailing.

I don't really have a lot to say about the Monaco wedding. It looked like a lovely occasion. The dress is fine. The veil is fine. The photos are fine, but Charlene looks like she'd rather be anywhere but there marrying Albert (and the rumors that have come out since about the wedding makes me side-eye a whole lot).

Stephanie, October 2012

Very pretty dress, very pretty veil, very pretty look. Not really very memorable for me. A lot of the gorgeous detailing in her dress gets lost in most of the photos; the close-up photos of her dress are gorgeous and I wish there were more.

I do really like her bridal bouquet; that's what I expected from Kate.

Her tiara got lost in the look and her veil not being closer to the tiara makes sense (since the tiara really would have gotten lost) but I think we've come to expect royal brides wearing their veils and tiaras together so this is something different. I do, however, really like how the veil flows in this picture.

Princess Madeleine, June 2013

I don't mind that it's a lace dress. I cannot with the dust ruffle hem. This photo just killed the whole look for me, but this one (above) and this one redeem it to where I can pretend the dust ruffle doesn't exist.

The neckline also had its issues. It went rogue at one point during the wedding and ended up giving her a 1980s-one shoulder style look.

Her hair was very Swedish (they do like their big buns). Her veil was gorgeous too, tying with Beatrice for second. I prefer the way Madeleine styled her veil over how Victoria styled hers.

Madeleine has my favorite makeup look; dramatic eye with a nice pink lip.

Sofia, June 2015

My feeling is that this isn't the dress Sofia would have chosen for herself. I think she went more demure and modest because of her controversial background but she's had a lot of fantastic style choices otherwise. Something about the cut of her dress reads maternity to me - the skirt seems like it starts too high in the bodice.

She has the traditional big Swedish bun, but it's quite a slicked back/severe look for her. I think with the wide open neck in her dress, a softer, looser hairstyle would have made it work better. I do feel like her earrings needed to be bigger with the open neckline, or at least should have had emeralds to match the tiara. (This may be my least favorite tiara styling -- a little too "on top" of her head, not very integrated into the hairstyle so it looks kinda like an afterthought.)

Loved the colorful flowers she chose. Her wedding colors were my favorite before Eugenie came along.

Pippa, May 2017

I know, I know. Pippa's not royal and it wasn't a royal wedding, but it had a big royal turnout so it counts!

THIS is how you do a lace wedding gown without it looking like Granny's tablecloth or Miss Haversham (yeah, I'm looking at you, Kitty Spencer). THIS is how you do a classic English country garden wedding. The way she decorated the exterior of the church was a dream.

Her headpiece was invisible and added nothing. I get why she chose the piece she did, but come on. Hugely missed opportunity to get a major piece from her new husband or to pay homage to Carole in something like this (which I realize is Kate's coronation headpiece) or like this.

The matron of honor/children's minder was perfection. The flower girls were perfection.

Meghan, May 2018

I'm glad Prince Philip was able to attend. I feel like he attended more to support The Queen than out of joy for the couple. I kinda wished Zara would have gone into labor during the service.

Everything was just so darkly lit, even the bridal portraits too.

(Edit: Let me know if you're curious about why I like this picture for their wedding.)

Princess Eugenie, October 2018

Her floral design and colors were my absolute favorite. She wins, hands down, bar none. I loved the moody dark florals and loved how she embraced the autumnal vibes by making the chapel feel warm and inviting.

I thought the sleeves of her bridal gown were too long and too big, and felt oversized. They needed to have been more tailored, like Kate's were.

Eugenie's wedding portraits are my favorite. The scale and perspective was pleasing and the simpler white background of the Windsor room made the people pop.

Overall, it was a very princessy wedding. Very well done.

Lady Gabriella, May 2019

Her veil is my favorite. I like the fuller veil style, but it almost seemed too full because the details of her tiara was lost in all the tulle.

I love the story that she had originally planned for a pink/blush gown but changed it to white when she learned The Queen wanted to attend; that says a lot about her character and respect for tradition.

Bridesmaid dresses were a tad long. For some reason, her Hugo Burnand portraits don't bother me as much as Kate's do. LOVE that she got to do some portraits outdoors, and her outdoors portraits are so quintessentially England. I kinda wish Kate had had that opportunity given how meaningful the outdoors are for her.

So sad about her husband. Sending her all the strength, especially with their anniversary coming up.

Princess Beatrice, July 2020

I loved that she went for sentimentality above all else. She really made the best out of a terrible situation. Their wedding photos make it seem like she (and Edo) are the sort of people who prioritize the marriage over the wedding so I sense they don't mind all the changes too much.

Loved her simple make-up and her grandmother's dress. Loved the veil too. The hair felt undone; this hairstyle would have polished the look nicely.

Princess Iman, March 2023

Iman squeaks into this review by 3 months. She is the youngest millennial royal bride.

I love how soft and golden her portraits are. She ties with Gabriella's outside portraits for the #2 spot for me.

Her look was simple, and I feel this is romantic minimalism done correctly. The drape of her skirt reminds me a lot of Sarah Chatto's, a soft delicate look that's unusual for most royal brides (who tend to go with stiffer, heavier fabric for the formality). It works really well.

The tendrils are a little much and too loose for me; I'd rank her use of tendrils #2 between Eugenie (#1) and Meghan (#3).

Rajwa, June 2023

I appreciate that she went for a look befitting her own individual personality but it was a choice. Her bridal look is a case of "too much pageant fashion, not enough wedding" for me. The draping was strange, the fit of the skirt versus the train seemed like she was wearing pants with a huge overskirt behind her. But the dress "sits" very nicely and I suspect since the Jordanians do most of their weddings sitting (like above), the overskirt style may have been an intentional choice for the photos.

Veil was nice. Bouquet was too small. Not a fa of the earrings. I do think her tiara is a little too far back on her head.

Many congratulations to them for the new baby.

[misfitclassismyfreetherapy]

Clara Appreciation Post

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I'm making this as contribution to Mairuma Manga's chapter 304

I'm surprised no one said shit on how Clara saved the day with her optimistic and fun personality. Honestly it was unexpected but also unsurprising and comforting that Clara was the one who stopped them. I genuinely thought Ameri was the one who would interrupt but you know, nevermind.

Also it makes sense in a way, Nishi didn't want to make Clara feel left out in the situation so she dropped the bomb (cliffhanger) on us so we would want to remember and look forward to what happened next and that's when Clara came in. The love trio does have to stick together afterall.

So without further a do here are 5 things I love about Clara Valac! Our adorable little charming playful demon!

Clara's amazing nicknames

These three being the dorks that I wouldn't trade for the world.

Like literally Azz-azz and Irumachi sounds so cute wtf- and like other nicknames Eggy-sensei. It reflects her personality well and actually makes her unique. ( I want to say quirky but it sounds weird so no. )

Her voice actor is also delivering her lines incredibly accurate also her voice actor is also known to voice Valac's entire family. Now that's what I called fucking talent. Since we're getting off-topic, let's move on to the next one.

2. Clara's overlooked selflessness.

I hate seeing Clara cry but I have to like put an image to showcase her selfishness.

You know how the netherworld always say that there are rarely other demons who would care for other people than themselves? If Clara was selfish, she wouldn't care for the other demons consent and she could easily force them to play with her.

But no, she wanted people to play with her with consent. She wants the other demon have fun as much as she has. There are many things that she could do but didn't because she cares for other demons feelings. She is a rare demon that wants to play and both side to have fun.

3. Clara has no doubt that Azz-kun and Iruma loves her.

Her eyes shine with utter confidence.

I don't need to explain much just-

Read this amazing post.

Totally not because I'm lazy. Also credits to @somayants for this masterpiece  🛐 .

4. Clara's unique family.

Shit I forgot the fucking twins-and the fucking brother-

Adorable as fuck. Wholesome as fuck. Cute as fuck.

Also her mum is such a MILF /j

Basically Clara's emotional support team besides the misfit class.

That's all I have to say.

Now I saved my best for last...

5. Clara's patience and endurance.

This is just adorable-

Clara's patience and endurance is honestly so admirable. I kinda lost count on the times, she endured being left out. We know well that Clara loves Iruma and Azz-kun so much that she doesn't want to ever get separated from them.

So the fact that she endured the clinginess of hers and have patience is so amazing of her. She truly does act like the role of the big sister sometimes. Honestly this is probably one of the few things that Clara does better than Azz-kun because let's be honest, he wouldn't last two weeks of separation from Iruma ( without training that is.).

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ENDING

You can tell I lost motivation halfway through that but I really want to finish this so people could appreciate Clara more for who she is, and we wouldn't want to change her for anything.

Also if through chapter 304 I made this as a #ClaraValacAppreciation post. I just made that hashtag myself cause I'm an antisocial idiot.

But if you want to join in on the appreciation of Clara you can! By using this hashtag.

(This is probably gonna flop but I honestly don't care.)

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~Claire has logged off~