#I know it sounds like I’m complaining about my cake

[sketchyelvenasss]

I have some FEELINGS about Astarion’s updated kiss…

So when the really nice-Intimate— kiss was released I was playing in act 3 after killing Cazador and having our moment in the graveyard. So my brain was like oh yeah this makes sense he’s actually had time to process things and start to feel comfortable with Rexander. It was nice.

But god damn it Larian dropped the ball I think for how careful they were about crafting Astarion’s arch to be about his healing process.

I reloaded to run through the confession scene again bc I’m writing something and needed the dialogues. Immediately after admitting that intimacy brings up these terrible feelings for him and that he doesn’t know what continuing this relationship will look or feel like the updates kiss feels wrong here.

I wish that they had kept it so that before killing Cazador you still had that really short almost awkward kiss that he gives you. Because that feels more like… getting to understand what safe intimacy looks like if that phrase makes sense. It feels more appropriate after explaining to mc how he was feeling and what he’s struggling with.

I don’t get me wrong Larian have done some thing amazing and I know coding and the such is a difficult juggle process. But I believe I’ve said before I would LOVE to see progression instead of just overwritten things. Would make it feel much more realistic and immersive. Because this particular what is said and what is done by a character breaks that immersion a little in this instance.

[yuoimia]

I CAN’T SAY ANYTHING TO YOUR FACE!

summary: they think you’re too pretty for your own good, really.

characters: wriothesley & alhaitham

notes: gn! reader, lighthearted fluff n teasing, wc: 800.

wriothesley

Does he think he can trick you again?

It’s almost funny, you muse to yourself as he routinely leads you through the fortress’ weaving labyrinths, the delicate wafts of Fontaine’s finest decadents alongside the sweet, slightly floral mist of Earl Grey tea increasing in strength with every step, naturally forming a semblance of a smile before you quickly regained your composure with a disappointed slap to the forearm.

Focus, you reprimanded to yourself. Stop thinking about cakes.

“What’s got you scowling like that?” Wriothesley lifts a curious eyebrow, surveying your face as he lightly closes the door behind you. “Pick a seat; I bought some new cushions since you complained last time that they made your back sore.”

He enunciates the complained with an air as if dealing with a petulant toddler’s meaningless tantrum.

Wriothesley notices how you don’t take a seat.

“Thank you,” you answer, prodding the rounded corners of the flowing material. It’s your favorite color, your favorite fabric.

He gazes up expectantly from his seat, taking a small sip from his teacup, swallowing with analytical attentiveness. “You know, it’s considered impolite to just stand and stare.”

“Wriothesley,” you interpose, crossing your arms behind the chair in front of him, examining his presence with a contemplative look. “What are you getting at?”

You continue theatrically spurring points when met with only silence. “Private teatimes? Customised cushions? Sigewinne’s stickers of you on my clipboards?” You take a generous breath and step, zeroing in on him over the tiers of desserts and frothing drinks, arms encasing his frame over the table. “If I didn’t know better,” you slyly whispered into his unblinking eyes. “I’d assume that you like me.”

The tension was hazardously electrifying, eliciting a sense of exhilaration with the mere possibility of a confession concocting itself into reality.

Wriothesley lets out an animated mixture between a sigh and a chuckle, dropping his head into his hands, before raising his head once more.

“You’ll need to repeat a few points again,” he muttered, smiling to himself, sounding almost disappointed. “Preferably with your back turned to me.”

“Why?” You furrow your brows; each second spent with Duke brought you with an ever-growing list of concerning questions to answer.

“Seeing you that close was quite dangerous,” he replied breathlessly. “I’m surprised you’ve never been labeled guilty.”

alhaitham

Alhaitham was stubborn. Yes, he admits, he could be fairly hardheaded and temperamental, but in comparison to you? Well, he considers that a new territory entirely.

“Birds of a feather,” Kaveh had nonchalantly shrugged at Alhaitham’s situation, nearly trickling an onslaught of sarcastic enquiries about this and last month’s missing rental payments and his growing apprehension towards Kaveh’s financial management, but that, alas, would just prove his point further. Alhaitham would rather have three meals of soup a day than let his agitating roommate emerge victorious in a verbal debate.

Thoughts surrounding soups reminded him to check in if you really had gone to bed after dinner, as you had reluctantly agreed, though not spared a wry roll of your eyes when you thought he had turned away.

It was common knowledge that if a person was sick, they should take it easy, rest often, and avoid strenuous activity and demanding tasks. While you were eager to comply with doing practically nothing all day, when the pedestal of stars rose above the fallen west horizon, so did your desire to defy anything Alhaitham suggested. And this part he fully blames himself, although grudgingly, that it was arguably a hundred percent his fault ninety-nine percent of the time. The factors? This he’s comfortably justified to alleviate restless nights—decisions were almost always influenced by bias, no? It was human, and Alhaitham was nothing but a human with human cognition.

The deliberate turn of the door handle, languid and surprisingly unlocked (what sort of scheme could you be possibly planning now?) has Alhaitham nearly stumbling out suppressed laughter of incredulity.

“What are you doing? Didn’t you promise me you'd go to sleep?” he gapes, the expression bearing comparable similarity to a blown-up pufferfish, not that you’d tell him that.

“Watching a movie. Would you like to join?” you push over blankets and pat an empty spot next to you. “I’m about halfway done so far. I’ll warn you, the protagonist is absolutely insufferable sometimes.” You release a long, suffering sigh, rubbing your forehead as if the character’s choices were causing you great distress. “Honestly-“

Alhaitham sits himself on your bed, much closer than you anticipated, cocking his head at your rapidly stumbling words.

“You’re so stubborn,” Alhaitham scowls, gently wrapping your waist with the loosened blankets. His voice carries no trace of malice, rather weaved with soft fondness. “Come on, let me see this protagonist that is causing you so much grief.”

[mediumgayitalian]

Will wakes up sometime around two, stumbling over to Arts & Crafts. He looks so incredibly, adorably sleepy, face creased with pillow marks and hair sticking out everywhere even worse than usual, that Nico can’t help his smile.

“Morning,” he says quietly, shifting over in the bench to make room. “Or, well, afternoon.”

“Mmfh,” Will responds. He sways on his feet, eyes still closed, so Nico has reach back and take his hand, guiding him to the seat Nico cleared for him.

“Still sleepy?”

Instead of answering, Will slumps onto his shoulder. Nico tenses for a moment, but quickly relaxes — Will is out of it. He’s a heavy weight on Nico’s side, and his breath comes out in little puffs; he’s halfway to snoring. He sets aside the clay sculpture he was making, wiping off his hands, and shifts slightly to make his shoulder more comfortable, sliding his hands in Will’s hair. After a quick glance to double check that no one’s around, he cards through the matted curls, carefully untangling the birds nest that sits currently upon his head.

“Night shift was long?”

Will groans, nuzzling deeper into Nico’s neck. Nico huffs, allowing it, turning his half-limp body so he’s practically sitting on top of him. It’s kind of a nice weight, actually. And Will is warm, slumped and half-sprawled in his lap like a freckly blanket.

“Got thrown up on three times.”

It takes Nico a second to decipher the words, mumbled as they are. His finger gets caught in a strand of Will’s hair as he winces, tugging a touch too hard. Will shivers.

“Oof.”

“Mhm. Shouldn’t complain, though. Not Cecil’s fault.” He pauses. “Well, it’s a little his fault. I told him not to mess with Billie’s garden.”

Nico smiles. “You know, it’s not the first time a Hermes kid has been poisoned for their dumbassery. You could’ve left his cabin to handle him.”

“They would do a horrible job. They might actually make him worse.”

“Yep.”

“…I can’t leave him to suffer, Neeks.”

“Hero complex,” Nico teases. “Sounds like a natural consequence to me.”

“Shhhh. I’m sleeping.”

“It’s two thirty in the afternoon, Solace.”

“Pot, kettle, et cetera.”

Nico smiles. “Only dorky people say et cetera when they’re half asleep.” He shifts, accepting that he has a lapful of head medic, now, no refunds or exchanges. It’s still, somehow, very comfortable — he feels as if he’s laying in a sun patch, under a warm, heavy blanket. Plus, Will smells like strawberries and lavender and his sandalwood shampoo. Nico could get used to it.

He does, however, subtly raise a couple skeleton to stand guard outside the gazebo — no need to get anyone gossiping. As cute as a sleepy Solace is, Nico can and will shove him to the ground the second anyone gets too close. He has a Reputation.

(He is a liar.)

“Did I miss the strawberry coffee cake this morning?”

“Yes.”

“Aw.”

Nico hums, untangling the last of his hair. Without anything for his hands to do, he slides them under Will’s hoodie, resting them in his stomach, ignoring his whining and exaggerated shiver at Nico’s ice-cold hands.

If Nico is going to function as his personal bean-bag chair, Will is going to function as his space heater. Fair’s fair.

“Saved a piece for you, though.”

He feels Will’s grin more than sees it, twisted up as they are. He feels his happy little wiggle, too, arms flailing before wrapping around Nico’s waist, thighs shifting before re-bracketing his hips.

“You’re my actual favourite.”

“Hm. I think you say that to all the boys you save you strawberry cake and let you nap on them.”

“Nah.” Will’s breathing starts to slow, body stilling as he rests his head right about Nico’s heart. He can feel his puffs of breath in his collarbone, tickling the skin under his thin t-shirt. “Just you.”

Nico flushes, more pleased than he’s willing to admit, and rests his chin on his head, watching over the strawberry fields. He checks that Will is actually asleep, and when he is, he presses a quick, darting kiss to his still-creased cheek, and smiles.

“You’re my favourite, too.”

[verstappen-cult]

Hi, love your writing so much ❤️❤️

So I have a request could you maybe write something about Charles reacting to his girlfriend having an allergic reaction? Like she accidentally eats something (I'm allergic to apples) and he freaked out

“Honey, I’m home!” Charles says, making you giggle and jump off the couch. He’s carrying two bags from your favorite restaurant while his gym bag is in his other hand, but that doesn’t stop you from hugging him and peppering his face with kisses.

“I missed you so much,” You say with a last kiss to his lips. “and I’m starving.”

Charles gives you the bags while he takes off his shoes. “I bought two pieces of that carrot cake you like so much.”

Before you even look at what else is in the bags, you take the dessert out, grabbing a fork in the process. Charles joins you in the kitchen, stealing the first bite of the cake from you.

“I don’t know why you like it so much, it’s gross.” He complains at which you roll your eyes, finally tasting the delicious and sweet cake.

After the second bite you can taste something different, something that’s not been there all the other times you’ve had it. However, you don't think too much about it and keep eating.

“Did you ask them to add something?” You ask after half of the cake has disappeared.

“No?” He answers, mouth full of pasta. “Oh! They said they’re trying a new recipe and has—”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, Charles just snatches the plate out of your hands, causing it to fall onto the floor, making a mess.

“Charles, that’s very rude!”

“I’m so sorry, baby. We need to go to the hospital.” He grabs your hand, rushing to the front door as you look confused at him, not understanding why he’s acting like that all of a sudden.

“Char, what’s happening!”

“You need to lie on your back, I’m gonna call the—”

It takes you a moment to finally understand.

That strange taste in your mouth, why the cake wasn’t like any of the other ones you’ve had before.

Sighing, you squeeze your boyfriend’s hand, forcing him to turn around and stop for a second.

“Baby, I’ll be fine.” But Charles looks like he’s about to throw up, probably feeling so guilty. “I just need my EpiPen, can you get it for me?”

“No! We need to—”

You cup his face, looking straight into his green eyes. “Charlie, you need to calm down or I’m seriously gonna slap you in the face. Now, can you get my EpiPen? It is on my nightst—”

You haven’t finished talking but he’s already sprinting up the stairs, tripping over his own feet. There’s a big commotion upstairs, things falling and Charles cursing as he searches for the medicine you need right now.

You slowly make your way to the couch, breathing in and out, when you hear Charles footsteps approaching.

He hands you the EpiPen and you smile up at him before taking it in your hands, taking your sweatpants off enough to push it against your thigh.

Charles looks away, making a strange sound. “I’m so sorry.” He whispers, looking like a kicked puppy in the middle of the road.

“It’s okay, Char.”

“No, it’s not! I’m gonna sue them,” He starts pacing around the living room, pulling on his hair. “how dare they do this! You could die.”

“I’m not going to die.” You laugh, rubbing the area around the injection for a few seconds. “You need to calm down because this isn’t helping me.”

His expression relaxes, and he sits next to you, grabbing your free hand. “I’m sorry. I should’ve asked.”

“It’s not your fault, Charles. These things happen and they’ve been happening to me all my life.” You rub his palm, leaning to rest your head on his shoulder. “I don’t know how many times this has happened since we’ve been dating, but you still freak out.” He laughs, closing his eyes and finally, finally, relaxing against you. “It’s cute.”

“I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

“I’m allergic to three different things, baby. You need to get used to it.”

[lovewithmary]

(not) moving on — a max verstappen x stark!oc x charles leclerc series

★ fc: madison beer ☆ summary: evangeline "evie" stark is in love with her best friend, max verstappen, but he tries his best to keep her at arm's length. but what happens when she starts to get close to his fellow drivers in the paddock? ★ notes: early chapter bc I am too impatient so I’m taking the poll results as is and assuming charles is the winner. anyways, drama is happening!!!

previous next series masterlist

"Evie's baking,"

"We know,"

"My daughter is baking for two tiny villages or two super soldiers, and none of you thought to ask if there was something wrong?" Tony asked, watching as his fellow Avengers, his wife, and his youngest daughter were all eating the pastries that Evie had been baking since she got off the phone.

"Parker tried grabbing the spatula from her hand, but she threw a bowl at his head. But luckily his Peter Tingle saved him and he dodged," Bucky explained, mouthful with a slice of one of the cakes Evie made.

"I told you not to call it the Peter Tingle!" Peter complained.

"I think she had a fight with Max," Morgan's tiny voice piped up, oblivious to the heads that turned to her.

"Morg, why didn't you say that earlier?" Pepper asked.

Morgan blinked innocently and shrugged, then said, "You didn't ask,"

"Okay, who wants to be the one to ask her about Max?"

A tense air fell between some of the most powerful people in the world, only for them to touch their noses and say, "Not it!"

Unfortunately for him, Tony himself was the last one to do it, which made him curse. "I should've just stayed in my lab," he muttered but went to the kitchen to see that Evie was already starting another batch of cupcakes as if the pile of used cupcake liners between Steve and Bucky wasn't enough.

"Hello, tesoro," Tony greeted, concerned at the fact that Evie barely reacted at the sound of his voice.

"The dining room isn't that far from the kitchen, papa. I don't need to have powers or be a Super Soldier to hear you guys," Evie commented.

"So, will it be easier to ask what happened between you and Max that's made you spiral into a hurricane of frosting— is that macrons? When did you learn how to make macrons?" Tony asked, caught off-guard.

"Max and I had a little misunderstanding. And I didn't know how to make macrons until earlier," Evie responded.

"A little misunderstanding? You're taking over my kitchen with baked goods for a little misunderstanding?"

"I will find a way to bake you if you don't stop!" She threateningly responded, the aforementioned spatula Peter tried taking was in her hand menacingly pointed at Tony.

Tony raised his arms up in surrender, "I won't ask then. I will just be here, in the corner of the kitchen, giving you moral support," he said, taking a step away from his daughter and near the door just in case.

Silence fell between the father and daughter, Evie angrily making a bowl of frosting while Tony was thinking about whether or not he had to bring in Pepper for his own moral support.

That was until, "Do I insert myself into people's business too much? Is it something I do regularly?" Evie blurted out.

"I think you insert yourself into people's business when you think you need to. I don't think it's a lot, but then again, you help me with my business, so I can't say it's too much," Tony shrugged.

She groaned, not getting a clear answer. She should've known that her dad wasn't going to outright tell her when she was being too invasive. "I'm serious, dad," she told him.

"Did Max say something? Whatever he said, ignore it. He drives for a living, he's wrong no matter what,"

"I thought you liked Max. You've known him since he was a kid,"

"I don't like him if he makes my daughter upset,"

"Dad..."

"What did he say?" Tony asked once more.

Evie sighed before washing her hands and grabbing her phone from the pocket of her apron and then giving it to her dad, unlocked and the texts already on the screen. She watched as her dad's face turned angry.

"I'll shoot him out of the sky with one of my repulsors—"

"Dad, no,"

"He didn't have to talk to you like that! That little shit—"

"What do I do?" Evie interrupted him, knowing that if she let him rant, he'd end up wearing one of the Iron Man suits, already on the way to wherever the next race was.

"Do what Starks do best,"

"Which is?"

"To get under people's skin,"

[eiraeths]

more scrubs quotes as 141 members because im binging the show

———

Ghost: Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to present, Man Not Caring. [Points at self]

———

Price: Do you want me to order you a clown?

Ghost: A drunk clown hurt me once

———

Soap: It sounds like you’re asking me out on a man date.

Ghost: Johnny, why are you so afraid of loving me?

———

Ghost: I don’t understand it. This wedding is supposed to be about us - how come I can’t be comfortable?

Soap: And I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that you are not wearing sweats!

———

Ghost: I don’t dislike you. I nothing you.

Soap: That’s special

———

Ghost: Hey idiot

Soap: [Turns around]

Ghost: Heh. I said idiot and you turned around.

———

Soap: [after kissing Ghost] Is that a roll of quarters in your pocket or are you having a good time?

Ghost: Actually, it's a roll of quarters. [takes out roll of quarters] Laundry day.

———

Graves: Ghost!

Ghost: And there you are.

Graves: Huh?

Ghost: I was just wondering if there was anything that could really push my headache into a full blown migraine… and there you are.

———

[Standing next to Soap and Graves]

Ghost: Goodness gracious, suddenly I'm getting the most intense headache. Let me see if this relieves the pain.

[grabs Soap and shoves him in between him and Graves]

Ghost: Better! [pushes Soap away]

Ghost: Worse! [Pulls him back]

Ghost: Better! [and away again]

Ghost: Worse! Oh, I could do this all day.

———

Ghost: Mactavish!

Soap: Mactavish? You only call me Mactavish when you're mad or when we're having sex... Baby, are you mad when we're having sex?

Ghost: Sometimes.

———

Gaz: I am not addicted to Journey

Soap: [singing] She's just a small-town girl…

Gaz: [singing] Livin' in a lonely wor-rld, she took the midnight train, going a-n-y-whe-ere.

———

Ghost: [thinking] Wait, is he into me? Quick, make a bad joke and see if he laughs.

Ghost: You hear about the skeleton who couldn't go to the party? He had noBODY to go with.

Soap: A ha ha ha! That's really funny!

Ghost: [thinking] Oh that's not a fair test, that joke's hilarious.

———

Price: Since you’re not that intelligent, I’m going to speak like a caveman from now on. You bad soldier. Me good soldier. You follow.

———

Price: I’m tired of rookies complaining about being called dummos, tubbos, smokers, and whatever the hell jamokers means.

Soap: I was actually saying jokers, but i had coffee cake in my mouth.

———

Gaz: Hey, Soap, wanna get a beer after work?

Soap: Do chickens wish they can fly?

Gaz: ...I have no idea.

Soap: I like to think they do.

———

Soap: [looks up to the ceiling] Now, I know you say you love us all equally. But you don’t, do ya? I’m onto you, big man.

———

okay that’s it

[6okuto]

LIAR!

gn!reader | established relationship, reader teasing hajime, just some fluff in bed :-)

iwaizumi wishes the effect you had on him wasn’t so maddeningly obvious.

it would have been one thing if only he knew, or if everyone but you knew—he could deal with the knowing looks and playful nudges from his friends every time he mentioned your name in passing. but unfortunately for him, you were just as aware as the rest of the world that iwaizumi hajime had a soft spot for you and only you.

this was true from the moment you met and he stuttered while introducing himself, to the first date where he let the door slam his fingers at the sound of your laugh, to right now as he forced himself not to look at your pleading face. he knew—the both of you knew if he did, there was only one possible outcome.

“hajime.” your voice calls from the other side of the bed.

hajime tenses slightly before replying with as level a voice as he can muster, “babe.”

“just once? please?”

he lets out a breath. “this won’t work on me.”

“are you sure?”

“yes.” liar.

“liar,” you echo his thought, amusement clear in your voice.

hajime almost laughs.

the mattress dips behind him, and the blanket is loud in your otherwise quiet bedroom as you shift closer. “are you sure?”

this time you’re only met with silence.

your boyfriend was a terrible liar around you, and no response was the easy way out.

“come on, haji,” you drawl, moving even closer. hajime can feel the warmth of your breath against his neck, and watches as your hands come to hold him from behind. they smooth the folds of his shirt and one runs up and down his side, pulling him even closer into your chest. his breath hitches when you squeeze his waist.

it’s when you press your lips to the nape of his neck and plant a soft kiss that he involuntarily groans, smushing his face into the pillow.

“pretty please?” you teasingly smile, and he can feel it—imagine it and the look in your eyes as if you were facing him instead. “i promise i won’t ask again.”

“now who’s the liar?” he scoffs and finally turns to look at you.

you snicker and press your lips together, fighting back a smile. getting him to turn around was 3/4 of the battle. “i don’t know what you’re talking about?”

"yes you do—babe, your hands are cold—" he laughs despite himself when you sneak your hands under his shirt. "god, okay, okay, okay."

your hands freeze where they are, and there’s an accomplished gleam in your eyes that he’s come to know well. “yeah, yeah, just this one time. now get your hands off and stop looking at me like that already—”

“‘m not looking at you any differently—”

“yes you are.”

“i’m looking at you with the same amount of innocence as always.”

“shush.” he huffs before pulling your head under his chin. he can feel your laughter against his skin, and when your hands come back to wrap around him again—over his shirt—he melts into your touch. 

“you’re so annoying,” hajime tells you, not an ounce of annoyance in his voice, but with an almost embarrassing amount of softness.

“i won’t ask again.”

“mhm.”

“promise.”

he squeezes your hip. “liar.” you might as well have put two crossed fingers in front of his face. but you kiss his collarbone, and he can't be bothered to complain again when you reply, “i know.”

! gonna b so fr w u guys i never had a question in mind for what u asked. i did try coming up w smth but i see hajime saying yes to doing basically anything so. think whatever ud like my friends 🫶

@devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @semifilms @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @kuroaka @sunaslay @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @spooky1magazine1bread @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @tooruchiiscribs @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐒𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲 | Part 15

He's not (just) your boyfriend.

Tags/Warnings: Game Designer!Jungkook, Brat Tamer!Jungkook, kinda himbo!Jungkook, Non Idol AU, established relationship, smut, slightly Dom!Jungkook vibes, an IUD mention, slow fast slow sex, he left the window open oops, he cums on her tits, those piercings really got him devastated

Length: 1.1k Words

Callob with @euphoricfilter ! 💜

-> Masterlist

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

“I still can’t believe you took them out.” He complains while kissing down your neck, hand warm on your skin. “Can’t believe I made you change them.” He huffs, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Kook it’s just piercings.” You try and pacify him, but he’s clearly not having any of it. “It’s cute that you still wear yours, though.” You admit to him, and he beams at that, proudly leaning back as if to show them off.

“Of course.” Your boyfriend responds. “After all we got them together for a reason.” He tells you, as if it should be obvious. You remember how you randomly brought up the topic over some fancy cake you both had gotten at the café- and how his brows had raised across from you, as he’d suggested getting them together then, if you were scared of going alone to the appointment.

You thought he’d been joking. But that day, you learned the important lesson of always expecting Jungkook to mean what he says, no matter how ridiculous it might sound like.

“What’s your fixation on my tits today?” You laugh as he keeps kissing and touching them, and he whines at that, looking at you with a face full of frustration.

“I haven’t seen them in forever!” He argues. “Feels like I have to introduce myself to them again, they probably forgot me already.!” Jungkook complains, and you can’t help but throw your head back into the pillows laughing.

“Jungkook they’re boobs!” You giggle, but he just raises his brows.

“Wrong, they’re your boobs, and I love everything about you.” He corrects you, before you tuck some of his hair behind his pierced ear.

“Well, can’t argue with that.” You shrug with a smile on your lips. “Wanna fuck them?” You wonder, and his eyes sparkle.

“Can I?” He asks in disbelief, and you nod, moving to sit up- but he pushes your shoulder back down into the bed. “No, I wanna fuck you first. Can I cum on them instead?” He wonders, and you nod.

“Just aim. You know I don’t like it when you get it on my face.” You pout, making him nod.

“I’ll keep it in mind.” he tells you, before he moves to push himself in- though he stops, freezes after not much more than the head of his length has been making its way inside you. “You still have your IDU right?” He asks you in shock, and you roll your eyes.

“First of all it’s IUD you nerd-” You whine, “-second of all that fight was not worth taking that thing out.” You explain to him, and he sighs, before he basically shoves himself into you, causing you to curse. “Fuck-” your legs wrap around his waist, his body built too perfect for them not to settle there, while your hands cling to his shoulders.

“Not much to say now huh?” He chuckles, keeping his pace slow but deep, bedframe protesting in quiet sounds as he rocks your body back and forth beneath him.

“Fuck you-” You laugh out of breath, and he can’t help but grin as well as he leans down to kiss your neck.

“Too bad, right now I’m busy fucking you.” He jokes, before he speeds up, wet sounds echoing off the walls of the bedroom you’re in, but only partially so- since the balcony window is still wide open, sounds of seagulls in the background creating an almost serene feeling for him.

This is exactly what he’d pictured. An expensive house, good food, extraordinary view, and your body connected to his in the most intimate of ways.

Your words are no longer making sense as he slows down, moves to kiss you instead, all open mouthed as if his goal is to devour your soul with every breath shared. His hands move to grab at the flesh of your thighs, one of his palms unable to be controlled as it smacks down harshly, earning a whimper from you as you clench around his cock pressed inside you. He’s no longer talking either, mind completely taken over by his own lust as he begins the chase again, hips snapping into you almost frantically as his end crawls near.

He doesn’t want it to be over yet- but then again, he also has more than half a week left to make up for all the intimacy you both didn’t manage to involve yourselves in like you normally do. And he’s already got ideas how to get himself back on top of the leaderboard of his app.

It used to be just for the two of you. But a few months ago, he uploaded and published it instead- making good money with it now, adding some even while you’re both clearly not thinking about it.

Your name falls slurred from your lips, and he knows you’re definitely close. Years of being together has given him the opportunity to learn about your body inside and out, your boyfriend now almost an expert at every little quirk you have. From what foods you like to the approximate dates your period might start-

He's got it all written down inside his head.

Because that’s also a way he loves you- it's not just mind-blowing sex like right now, where he makes your head empty out to replace all your thoughts with nothing but softness and the thought of him, it’s also the things he does for you, the way he cares about you. He’s much more than just your partner, someone you love, and he himself doesn’t even consider himself just your boyfriend.

He’s your soulmate. One and only. And he’ll make that very clear in the next few days to come.

But what has to come first is you- as he leans back to move his hand between your bodies, thumb pressing and circling over your clit to have you call out his name high pitched as your back arches, hands gripping the sheets as he continues to thrust into you for a good moment, before he pulls himself out with much struggle, own hand not having much issue to have him shoot his release onto your body-

Aimed well, just like you said he should, as the thick white ropes of his cum find their way onto your chest, groan escaping him as he makes sure to draw his orgasm out just as much as you clearly do yours, own hands between your legs chasing after any remnants of pleasure before you’re both left to catch your breaths.

It’s quiet for a moment, except some sounds outside, when your eyes suddenly open, face turning towards the opened balcony door.

“Wait, that was open the entire time?!” You ask dramatically- but all Jungkook really has for a reaction is the way he leans down to kiss your cheek.

“Yep.” He chirps, all soft in the head from the high he’s still coming down from. “And I sure hope they heard the way you yelled my name just now.”

[d0youc0py]

Hi 👋🏻 May I request a piece for Simon reacting to reader's scars which are pretty bad ? (could be from abuse,or from torture from being captured or self inflicted) scars he never saw before cause reader always hit them, and maybe Simon opens up about his as well as a way to comfort them?

Sorry if you are not comfortable with this... Have a great day!

“Ow…ow….ow…ow.”

“Toughen up.” Ghost growled.

“My arm doesn’t bend that way Lieu.” You yelped.

“That’s the point.” He snipped. “Showin’ you how to break someone’s arm.” For emphasis he bent your arm back a little more a loud pop ringing through the training room. It didn’t hurt but you instinctively said ‘ow’ causing another annoyed sigh to leave the bulky man. “Now you try on me.” He demanded flopping down on his stomach. You went to grab his arm and he quickly snatched it away. You tried again. He pulled away from you.

“What are you doing?”

“You didn’t think I was gonna make it easy, did ya?”

“I had my hopes up.” You groaned out. You tried again- this time putting in twice the effort. He grabbed you by the front of your shirt and flipped you down on the mat. The little action causing your shirt to ride up- revealing the one thing you tried your hardest to hide. You had scars almost everywhere, but the really nasty ones were on your stomach. His balaclava did nothing to hide his widened eyes. You pulled away and he quickly let go. “I’m sorry.” You whispered.

“For what?” Ghost asked quickly.

“You had to see those.” Your cheeks were bright red. You had a feeling this was something that was going to make you cry whenever you woke up at two in the morning and thought about.

“I didn’t see anything.” He lied. He could tell you were uncomfortable and didn’t want to add on to it.

He thought less of you. You just knew it. He didn’t even need to know how you got them- he thought you were weak.

“I didn’t take you for the lying type Lieu.” You mumbled. You scooted your knees close to your chest.

“I’m not.” He sighed. He sat down across from you, stretching his legs out so you were between them. He knows he doesn’t show it well but he’s always had a soft spot for you. He couldn’t help it. Something about you made him feel nice. Seeing your scars were just icing on the cake. He could relate to wanting to cover up the ‘bad’ bits of yourself. Although to him your only bad bits were your constant complaining during sparring- and during missions- and when it’s hot out- and when it’s too cold- and when you’re hungry- and when you didn’t sleep good- and- well you get the idea. All of this led up to what he was about to do now.

He took a deep breath causing you to look up at him. He gripped the edges of his balaclava slowly pulling it away from his face.

Of course he was gorgeous.

He wasn’t perfect.

But my god is he gorgeous.

You suddenly realized why he had done it. A deep scar starting at his cheekbone going all the way down to his jaw. Another one going over his eye. You had noticed one of his eyes seemed to open more than the other, but you didn’t see the scar till now. You reached your hand out and he didn’t pull away. Your pointer finger traced gently over his cheek. You waited for him to smack your hand away, but instead he closed his eyes letting you take your time.

You wondered how many people had the honor of doing this. The way his face heated up made you think very few- if any. Once you were done you rested your hand back in your lap. He opened his eyes.

“You saw my scars?” He asked.

You nodded your head.

“Do you think I’m ugly?” He questioned. Cocky bastard. He knew you wouldn’t say no.

“If this is your way of asking me if I like you Lieu, you’re going about it all wrong.”

He laughed. A rare, but genuinely lovely sound to hear.

“No, I don’t think you’re ugly.” You affirmed. He nodded his head, almost like he was agreeing with you.

“Scars don’t make you ugly, kid. A shit personality does.”

“Are you saying I have a bad personality?” You gasped.

“Fucking Hell, we’re gonna be here all night.” Simon groaned, wiping a hand across his forehead. “I think you know what I mean.” He pressed. You smiled at him.

“You’re not the only one who digs for complements Lieu.” You snickered. He smiled and you had to stop yourself from poking the dimple in his right cheek.

“Lieu?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Thank you for your request! I decide to leave the story behind the scars out to make it more applicable. Hope that’s okay!

[helloheyhihowdyheya]

Pity Party | p. 2

Carmy Berzatto x gn!reader

Masterlist Part One

Summary: Carmy takes you home, but you find yourself not ready to go yet

Word Count: ~3k

Warnings: Swearing, kissing, some mushiness, fluff, possibly incorrect info about cars

A/n: hi. I’m sorry for taking a million years on this. and I’m sorry it’s not longer. Thank you to anyone that read the first part and shared their interest <3 and thank you for reading this one. You all are the best

“Holy shit,” you said, food still in your mouth and hand wrapped around the taco. Your wide eyes glanced up to Carmy’s.

“Right?” He swallowed down his bite before grinning, his head bobbing up and down in an approving nod.

You’d replaced the claustrophobic party with a small taqueria that, despite the occasional yelling between the front person and cooks, was much more peaceful. It had too few people in it for how good the food tasted, but you wouldn’t complain about the lack of noise or drunken singing.

“All the dishes were created by Rosa. She owned this food truck back when I was a kid — way before she could open up this place. If you come back–”

“When I come back,” you corrected.

“When you come back,” he said with a grin, “Their shredded beef is top shit. She spends hours getting it just right. Or the nachos. Even their fucking nachos are insane.”

You laughed, suddenly wishing you’d ordered nachos — maybe if you had more time here. As you ate, you listened to Carmy continue telling you about the restaurant and Rosa and how the tastes come together just right. You didn’t think you’d ever thought that hard about food before, but you just listened to him explain.

Well, mostly. Sometimes you watched his eyes light up as he spoke. Or you focused on the smooth way his mouth formed around the words.

“Sorry, this can get annoying,” he said after a minute of explaining the flavor profile of the tres leches cake a past restaurant he’d worked at had, and how it was a twist on Rosa’s tres leches cake he’d had as a kid.

But you shook your head, your expression dropping into a frown at his sudden cynicism. “No, no. Keep going,” you offered, hoping your tone sounded as sincere as you felt. “It’s fascinating stuff. Does Rosa know that she inspired you?”

You kept asking him questions. Most of it was to feed your interest, but part of it was to hear him keep talking.

Taking a sip of water, you washed down the different flavors of the taco. “Thank you again for taking me here. You’re a two-time lifesaver now,” you said with a tired but grateful laugh. Your eyes glanced down to your phone, seeing that Richie gave a thumbs up to your message saying you got a ride home from Carmy.

“Course. And thanks again for paying,” he said with an almost incredulous laugh. “Though I still can’t believe you paid the guy before I could see what you were doing.”

You nodded, happily chewing. It was the least you could do since he saved your night from complete disaster. “You can grab food the next time you drive me home from a party while I’m covered in beer.”

“Christ, I hope that doesn’t happen again for your sake.” He wiped his hands on a napkin, balling it up onto his plate. He gestured a finger toward you, saying, “The guy that spilled on you sounded like a total douche.”

A smile broke out across your face as you swallowed down a bite. “He was. He had the ugliest polo and cargo short combo I’ve ever seen doing the grossest hip thrusts I’ve ever seen with a full cup. And that wasn’t even the worst part!” You couldn’t contain the giggles popping up through your words now. “I looked back at him while walking away — from the most half-assed apology I’d ever heard — and saw his toe shoes… The fucker was wearing toe shoes!”

Carmy almost spit out his water, choking on it as you spoke. When he finally recovered, he shook his head, saying, “Nah, you’re fucking with me. There’s no way.” His grin went wide as he laughed harder.

“No, I’m 100% serious. I nearly ran into someone cause I couldn’t take my eyes off of them — like a goddamn trainwreck or something.”

You relished in the sound of his laughter, letting it replace the image of that guy’s horrible footwear.

“Christ, that’s horrible.”

“You’re telling me,” you muttered, finishing up your food. Standing, you held out a hand for his plate. You threw away the trash, stacking the plates in a dish bin with the remnants of laughter stuck to you. By the time you came back to the table, Carmy was standing and putting his jacket back on.

He stared at you for a second, and you couldn’t read the look in his eyes. You smiled nonetheless. He just said, “Ready?”

“Yes,” you breathed out. It didn’t feel as cold walking to the van this time with a full stomach and being next to Carmy. The tender fuzziness wrapped throughout your body didn’t wane until after a few miles of driving. On a side road meant to take you to the freeway back into the city, the car began to lurch. Your gaze slid over to Carmy as the van gradually slowed.

You found his expression sinking into a frown as he pulled off onto the shoulder. The skin of his knuckle stretched taut, his hands gripping the wheel tight. Parked, he shut the car off and tried turning it back on. Your stomach sank when a click-click-click sound hit your ears.

His fingers firmly wrapped around the car keys stuck into the ignition. He tried turning them again, which only produced that clicking sound once more. One final try, a hail mary as you held your breath, as he tried again. But you let out a half sigh when the engine kept turning over.

He slumped back into his seat, his hand dropping from the keys to lie beside his leg. “Fuck…” he breathed out, wiping the other hand across his forehead and along his hairline.

You opened your mouth, hoping to say something helpful, but nothing worked its way past the worry lining your throat. So you pressed your lips back together. You just nodded when he told you, “Let me see if I can look under the hood,” and made his way to the front of the van. Your eyes flitted between looking at the way his face wrinkled as he felt for the hood release and your fingers picking at your nails.

Flickers of the flashlight from Carmy’s phone passed from either side of the popped hood. A few minutes later, your eyebrows rose expectantly at him as soon as he came back. “What’s the prognosis?” you asked.

He sighed while closing the door, glancing to you. “It’s been a while since I’ve worked on cars, but there’s definitely a leak. With how hot it felt under there, I’d guess it’s the coolant.”

You breathed out, your eyebrows sinking into a disappointed frown. “So a tow truck it is.”

“Yeah…” he said, “I’m sorry, let me- I’ll order you a ride.” His words sounded defeated as he fished out his phone from his jean pocket.

“Oh, you don’t…” The words slipped past your lips before you could register what you were saying — before you could recognize the sharp feelings in your chest that sparked the words. Carmy turned to look at you, his attention fixed on the end of your sentence. Beneath his stare, you found it hard to think much beyond how much you weren’t ready for the night to end.

Clearing your throat, you slowly said, “You don’t have to do that. I could, um, wait with you.” With your heart beating against your ribs, you added, “I mean, if you wouldn’t mind me sticking around.”

His finger paused, hovering over his phone screen. After a beat, the corner of his mouth lifted into a hesitant smile. “Uh, no. ‘f course not,” he said. “But it could be awhile before a truck gets here.”

Smiling, you shrugged. “Okay.”

And you watched him nod as a bigger smile spread across his face, like sunshine sneaking through the crack of a door. Your gaze flitted around the van’s interior and the dark side of the road while he called the towing company. But your attention was back on him when he hung up.

A small sigh accompanied his words. “They said it could be an hour. Maybe more.”

“Okay, well,” you started but paused, feeling warm all over. You hadn’t quite thought this far ahead. And now, in the soft silence of the van, his attention sat entirely on you. Quickly, you glanced into the back of the van, eyeing all of the boxes that sat there. With a slight grin, you continued, “Well now that we have some time to kill, I have to ask what’s all back here.”

Carmy shifted, looking to the back as well. “God, sorry about the mess. Most of it’s just supplies for The Beef… And Richie’s stupid fucking shirts for the restaurant.”

Your eyebrows raised. “Well shirts aren’t so bad. They can be good advertising for–”

“They say ‘The Original Berf.’”

“Oh.” You let out a small laugh, which grew with each breath because of course they said that. The way Carmy shook his head only furthered your giggling. Eventually, once your laughter died down, you eyed the back again. “How many shirts are in there?”

He looked back again, reaching a hand back to flip up the top of a box behind your seat. “Uh, maybe 20? Why?”

Pursing your lips, you asked, “Do you think there’s a shirt my size in there?” And at Carmy’s laugh, your mouth pulled into a smile.

“Let me see…”

He stretched toward the back, his hand gripping the side of your seat. With his body just a few inches away, waves of warmth rolled off of him. Your eyes couldn’t help trailing the curls of his hair or the dips and wrinkles of his sweater around his body.

When the rustling stopped, and your gaze elsewhere, he finally pulled back with a dark navy shirt in his hands. “Here you go.”

Giving a quiet, “Thank you,” you unfolded the shirt and held it up. It looked to be about your size, so you began unbuckling your seatbelt. “Um, could you– I mean, do you mind?” you asked, holding the shirt close to you, unsure of how to ask him to give you privacy in the car.

Thankfully, he got the message and turned the other way. “Yeah, yeah. Just, uh, let me know if it doesn’t fit.”

Hesitantly, your fingers wrapped around the hem of your shirt. You briefly relished in the feeling of finally taking off your beer-stained shirt, enjoying the air from the car’s vents against your skin. You pulled down the new shirt and said, “Okay, you’re good to look.”

You shifted it this way and that until it felt right. As you looked down and read that it did indeed read “The Original Berf,” another laugh slipped from your mouth.

You looked at Carmy as he said, “Richie calls it a collector’s item.”

“Of course he does,” you muttered with a grin. The feeling of a dry, smell-free shirt had you thanking him again. “This might bring you up to saving me three times tonight.” You turned to look at him, the left side of your body resting against the back of your seat. Your head tilted, leaning into the headrest.

“Well, you’re spending tonight waiting for a tow truck with me, so I’d say we’re about even.”

You let out a quiet hum, pursing your lips. “If we’re even… then could I ask you a favor?”

He was now turned toward you, his head tilted the same way. His hands sat in his lap, his fingers fidgeting every couple of seconds. Yet his expression looked almost calm as he said, “Yeah, anything.”

–

So there you both were, lying on the hood of his van looking up at the stars. With a sturdy enough box to use as a step and a thermal blanket beneath your bodies, you and Carmy set up a place to stargaze side by side. The night air and moonlight kissed your skin as you raised a hand, pointing out another constellation.

The occasional car passed by. A soft siren echoed in the distance. But sitting far enough away from the city, you could hear as the frogs and crickets sang their songs in the grasses nearby. You couldn’t help but think they sounded nice beneath the rumble of Carmy’s voice as he spoke.

“My family didn’t take road trips or anything like that, but uh, my brother took me west one night — when we were young. Honestly, I think he was just pissed at our family and wanted to get out,” he explained with his hands clasped together over his stomach. His chest rose and fell while his gaze stayed fixed on the Hercules constellation above. “But he drove the two of us out of the city and woke me up after. And it was just some field. I was so mad that he dragged me all the way out to a cornfield in the middle of the night.” He shook his head and let out a soft laugh, one filled with a sort of fondness, as if the memory played before his eyes.

“He told me to shut the fuck up and look at the stars. So we sat there on the hood of our mom’s piece of shit car, and he told me about the constellations.” He paused, a soft smile playing on his lips. “But he didn’t know shit about constellations. He made it all up. I started to catch on when he pointed out the little dipper for the third time.”

A smile of your own spread across your face. You turned your head to look at him better, to watch the creases wrinkle around his eyes. “That sounds really nice,” you whispered. “To get out and escape once and awhile.”

“Yeah. It is…” Like now. The words seemed to dance between the two of you.

“Can you point out the little dipper to me?” you asked. “We wouldn’t want all his hard work teaching to go to waste.”

With a laugh, Carmy nodded and looked back to the sky. His hand raised, pointing to stars off to the right. “You see those four stars there that make a rectangle? That’s the cup. And those three,” he said, tracing his finger up in a curve, “make the handle.”

You nodded along. “I’m surprised you didn’t do much stargazing in your fabulous Copenhagen days,” you teased.

A groan left his mouth. “Cooking in Copenhagen leaves you no time for stargazing.”

“Sounds like cooking in Chicago leaves you without any time, either,” you whispered, watching as his hand dropped back down, his eyes locking onto yours.

He didn’t say anything at first, and an icy uncertainty began to creep up your spine. He turned his body onto his side to face it. “It leaves time for some things,” he said, melting away the worry and replacing it with burning hope. You turned toward him, too.

“Like what?” you breathed out, letting your fingers inch closer to his in the space between you. With him so close, you became acutely aware of everything around you. The bumps of the hood beneath you, the crinkle of the blanket with each movement, the intensity in the way he listened to your every word.

His gaze skipped around your face as he said, “Like a first date.”

You raised your eyebrows, turning your nose at him. “We just had our first date. Doesn’t a private dinner and stargazing sound romantic to you?” you asked. But you could only tease for so long, could only keep the sincerity at arm’s length until you were weak to it.

“Let me take you out for real,” he answered, grinning at you. His eyes continued to glance down to your lips. You felt your heartbeat in your ears. You barely ignore the uneasy excitement building in your chest. “Let me kiss you.”

Brief moments passed like hours before you nodded, before his hand brushed along your jaw and cupped your face. In an instant, your eyes shut as his mouth pressed to yours — like they were made to fit together. Your body molded to his, your muscles melting at his touch. Your fingers gripped his shirt, then his hair when it wasn’t enough. An almost desperate groan came from the back of his throat when you broke away to breathe.

He kept kissing you, only letting you get small gasps of air here and there. And the comforting feel of him nearly felt more important than breathing anyway. It left you in a dizzying addiction to his touch.

His nose nudged against yours with each kiss, his hold on you solid and unmoving. You didn’t know how much time had passed there in his embrace before lights hit your eyelids. Slowly, the sound of a car approaching reached your ears, making you pull away from Carmy.

A truck came closer as you sat up, your body already missing the warmth of Carmy. The lights on top of the truck told you it was here to tow the van. Looking back at Carmy, you watched as he adjusted his shirt and hair before hopping off the hood. You took his hand to get down yourself, smiling as he squeezed your hand.

He left your side to speak with the tow truck driver, but his eyes never left you for long. The butterflies in your stomach never left either, not with the soft way he looked at you.

The journey home passed in a blur, the tired goodbye and quick kiss as you parted ways. Not even Richie, who arrived home next door at the same time as you and immediately noticed your changed shirt, could dull the smile on your face. Though when he asked how your night with Carmy was and obnoxiously wiggled his eyebrows, he came close.

You merely muttered, “Shut up,” before closing your door on him. And finally back in your apartment, you could shower and change — relishing in the clean and dry feeling. Even the sharpness of the vinegar you poured into a bowl was a relief. Diluting it with water per Carmy’s instructions, you mixed it together before dipping your shirt in.

And you thought of him the entire time, unable to keep a smile off your face as you washed off your shirt to find it stain-free

[fir3ylolol]

we want you! pt. 4

pairing: Johnny Cage x Reader

tw: oral sex, public, almost caught, mostly fluffy tbh, gn pronouns

a/n: finally, a pt 4! i've been busy with school this week, so im glad i got this out lol. enjoy the fluffy old man hehe

word count: 1.74 k

other parts

Ao3

It’s been about 3 days since you last saw Johnny. You’ve got class, and he’s got work. That doesn’t stop him from texting you. Constantly. He’s sending you texts about what he ate, pictures of cute things he saw, and whining about not hanging out. It’s a lot of whining to be fair. But it’s cute. Especially when he sends selfies where he’s making big sad puppy dog eyes.

But finally, you reach another free day. He’s been counting down the days, complaining more that he can’t come over at 6 A.M. sharp. But you need more time than that, and he understands. That doesn’t mean he’s not constantly asking you if you’re ready. Like, every 5 minutes. How does he have this much energy? When you let him know you’re ready, you swear it’s only been a couple of minutes before the knock on your door comes. You open the door, but Johnny nearly bursts in, capturing you in a bear hug as he lifts you slightly. There you hang, as he squeezes you tight and lets out a deep breath. Face buried in your chest, you hear him mumble out, “Man, I missed you.” As he sets you down, you giggle slightly. “You know it’s only been a couple of days right?” He sighs and droops forward comedically. “I know, I know, but! You’re so much more fun than sitting around all day.”

You hold his hand and smile at him, which causes him to stand up straighter, as you speak quietly, “That’s very sweet of you.” He wraps his arms around your waist, gently touching his forehead to yours, smiling out, “Well, I am well known for how sweet I am.” You giggle at him, which makes him smile even more. “God, I don’t think I’ve ever been funnier than when I’m with you,” he laughs with you. You slip from his grasp and grab your bag, walking out the door. “Come on, I don’t have all day.” Johnny quickly walks out after you, watching as you lock the door. But the second you do, he grabs your hand and pulls you along. His steps are fast, and he’s half-dragging you along. As you practically get dragged along the sidewalk, you can’t help but admire his excitement. It’s quite sweet.

He screeches to a halt and you bump into his back. He turns around to grin at you wide, asking excitedly, “What do you think?” It’s a hole-in-the-wall restaurant, an old shader over the worn door. He walks in the door, still holding your hand tight. It’s quite cute inside, like a warm, comfortable library, with large sofas and thrifted coffee tables. He speaks to an employee as you look around before he gets your attention to follow him again. You start up a thin staircase, with creaky wooden floors under your feet. It suddenly opens up to a rooftop area, flowering plants pouring out over the trellis in the center, with comfortable-looking chairs underneath. You sit down, amazed at how picture-esque it is. Johnny whispers to the employee who brought you up, who nods as he leaves again. Johnny sits down with you, smiling at you, which you reciprocate. “What do you think? You like it?” He says softly as he traces shapes on your hand. “Do I like it? It’s gorgeous! How did you know about this place?” You express with adoration. He pretends to be flustered, “Oh you know, I’ve got connections. And I like seeing how happy you get when I take you somewhere nice.”

The employee returns, placing a tray with a coffee pot, 2 mugs, and 2 small cakes on the table before leaving again. Johnny grabs the pot, pouring cups for the two of you. “I’m not allowed to have caffeine so, does hot chocolate sound good?” You nod, before laughing, “Why can’t you have caffeine?” He falters slightly but continues pouring. He coughs before talking, “Well…my daughter worries about me, so she asked me to watch my intake.” Your eyes widen slightly, surprised that it took him this long to mention it. “You have a daughter? Wow…what does she do?” He looks in your eyes, happy that you’re not weirded out. “Well, she works with the Special Forces, she’s a commander. You would like her, she’s funny.” You take a sip from your mug, almost burning your tongue, but quickly end up giggling. “Funny like you, or actually funny?” He snorts, leaning back in his chair, “Those are the same thing, you know.”

You’re glad you’ve lightened the mood, but you worry a little. What if this relationship continues, and she thinks you’re weird? But you forget them the second Johnny meets your eyes again, warm and full of compassion. Everything is good right now. No need for stress. Johnny picks up a fork and grabs a piece of the cake in front of you. He leans closer to you and leads it to your mouth. You take the bite, melting at the taste. You mumble out around the food, “Holy shit. That’s so good.” He lights up even more, taking a bite for himself. He does the exact same, covering his mouth as he speaks through it, “That’s really fucking good.” You both laugh, happy just to be here and experiencing it. You both end up taking your time, enjoying the company, and eating more delicious cake. When you finally leave, walking out onto the sidewalk, you half-brace yourself for another dragging. But he walks slower this time, admiring the shops you pass and staring at you. Until he suddenly stops, leading you down a park path, large trees shading your path.

“It’s nice here,” he finally breaks the silence between you two. You pause for a deep breath before speaking, “Yeah, it is nice. I’m glad I’m here with you.” He squeezes your hand quickly, admiring you with genuine eyes. “You’re so nice, you know that? I’m always so happy with you. I like spending all this time with you.” You wrap your arm around him, leaning into him. He stops walking, looks at you, and gently kisses you. As the wind blows behind you, you lean into him, his warmth and stability and kindness draw you in further. He leans back, looking at you again as you speak, “You’ve been looking at me a lot today. Do I look especially good?” He leans back in, resting his head against yours, “You always look good.” Shivers travel up your spine as his fingers dance along your back. You feel him back up, steering you back along the pathway. “You wanna see a movie? I heard they were showing classics at the local theater.” You nod, walking along with him, trying to shake off how flustered he made you.

You reach the theater, which is across the street from the end of the park, and Johnny orders two tickets to a movie called “Ninja Mime” which sounds familiar. You walk inside and see the poster for it directly inside the door. You smack his arm lightly, whispering to him, “You bought us tickets to see your movie??” He grins, “I’m sorry, I thought you wanted to see a classic.” You both make your way into the screening room, completely empty as the final trailer rolls. You sit next to him, lifting the arm rest between you so you can get closer. He pulls you in close, whispering again, “You better behave. I don’t take kindly to talking during the movie.” You nod, but he’s put an idea in your head. The lights dim, and the movie starts, watching as a younger Johnny leaps around the screen silently in mime makeup. He’s fully invested in his own performance, serious face on display. You do a final check of the theater, fully empty besides you two.

You slide out of your chair slowly, avoiding his eyeline. You crawl slowly between his legs, finally getting his attention. He looks slightly confused like he really didn’t notice that you moved. Your hand gently rubs along his inner thigh, which causes him to jump slightly. He looks more eager now, no longer confused. He slightly shifts his hips so you have a better angle, and you unzip his pants slowly. He’s not quite hard yet, gently removing him and starting to stroke him slowly. He moves back and forth, already feeling the effect of your touch. Maybe since you were in public, but you’ve forgotten to care, leaning forward to slowly lick from base to tip, intense eye contact before sinking down. He jumps again, hand clutching the arm tight. You slowly bob your head, trying to keep eye contact and swirling your tongue against the sensitive underside. He bites his hand, a whine lightly slipping out. It only eggs you on more, speeding up slightly to watch him squirm more.

Suddenly, he grabbed your head and held you down against him. You hear a door creak and a few footsteps before they suddenly stop. You breathe through your nose as quietly as you can, looking up to see Johnny, face completely blank. It was impressive honestly. Suddenly, the steps return, getting quieter as you hear the door creak again. Johnny lets go, breathing out a sigh of relief. You sit up slightly, sputtering and coughing. He leans down, grabbing your chin lightly. “God, you’re so hot.” He sits back up, leading your head back down. You eagerly accept, going back down again, moving a lot faster than before. His whimpers could be heard lightly echoing throughout the theater as his grasp on you tightened. You can tell he’s close, the situation has made him more sensitive. You were right, as he holds you back down again, this time hunching over you with a heady moan as he cums right there. You swallow it down, continuing to move your tongue. He starts twitching, still too sensitive. You finally pull away, as he leans back with a tired look on his face. You sit back down next to him and lean into his side. After a few seconds, you whisper out, “So what did I miss?” He snort-laughs as he sits back up, looking at you, “All the best parts.” You kiss him lightly, which he gladly accepts. As you pull away, you whisper a final time. “So, are you gonna leave your dick out the whole movie, or?”

[tgmsunmontue]

Season to Taste - 13/? WIP

Explicit Hangster - Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another. Heading into this little world.

PROLOGUE/ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE

TEN ELEVEN TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

                “Hey Ice.”

                “Hi Bradley. Happy birthday.”

                “Thanks.”

                “How are you?”

                “Good. How are you?”

                “Can’t complain. Alive and kicking.”

                Bradley feels a little awkward talking to him now, his one remaining link to his old life. He wonders if it would be different if he was talking with Mav, or if they had something more in common than his dead father from over twenty years ago. All that though and he still makes the calls, Leandro and Silvia both giving him the stink-eye if he doesn’t and he knows at least that he doesn’t want to disappoint them. Short weekly calls when he’s at home in Italy mean they don’t expect him to spend a long time on the phone. He hasn’t called in a couple of months, not a fact he will be sharing with either Leandro or Silvia.

                “What have you been up to?”

                “Ah. Went to Spain for a couple of months. Worked in a kitchen there. Helped harvest grapes and make wine. Just… the usual.”

                “Usual for you maybe. Sounds quite idyllic.”

                “Well, butchering and curing meat isn’t idyllic at all, quite bloody and messy. So… the scenery was nice though. And I went to Barcelona for a couple of days, that was pretty cool.”

…            …            …

                He hadn’t intended to just blurt out an invitation to somehow define what they’re doing. Not to jump from casual sex to… Dating? To trying out a long-distance relationship? After only knowing each other for five days? It’s crazy. But sometimes crazy just works and god he hopes this is one of those times. So many things simply feel right about Jake and crazy has worked for him several times before.

                “I think you’re a little drunk.”

                “I’m not. Trust me, it takes more than a bottle of wine for me to get drunk.”

                “Yeah? You know that do you?”

                “Yes. Unfortunately.”

                Jake laughs and pulls into the grocery store parking lot, and Bradley’s hand is already on the seatbelt clasp, ready to go in. He’s shifted from thinking about convincing Jake to making a mental list of things he needs to get if he’s going to make the flourless chocolate cake for Maria, and some more food for breakfasts, lunches and dinners. Then he notices that Jake is also putting food in the cart and he purses his lips.

                “What are you doing?”

                “Well, I might not have a fancy cookbook to my name, but I can feed us. Just burgers, but we won’t starve. Come on. You’ve been cooking non-stop, you deserve a break.”

                Bradley doesn’t even bother trying to hold back, simply moves around the cart and brackets his arms on either side of Jake and kisses him, starting soft but it quickly turns harder before he hears someone cough and he pulls away, knows his cheeks will be flaming red and Jake is looking smug, one eyebrow arched.

                “I ain’t even cooked you anything yet…”

                Bradley just shakes his head, looks away and then studies the flecks in the linoleum floor. It’s not the food, it’s the thought behind the gesture and Jake doesn’t even seem to be trying to be charming, is just naturally thoughtful and sweet as well as being a bit of a spoiled brat and cocky asshole. All things he’s finding more and more endearing and attractive the better he gets to know him.

                Crazy indeed. God he wants.

…            …            …

                Everything to gain.

                The words turn around in his head every few minutes, like they’re going past of a merry-go-round. The fact Leo had meant it seriously means Jake is taking it seriously, wonders how he’d make it work exactly when his leave is so limited, the fact that he wants to see his family when he’s on leave. He might like Leo, a lot, but he loves his family. And it’s not like any of them can just pop up to New York and visit. If that’s what Leo is even suggesting. Leo did say he travels a lot, and if he’s willing to travel to where Jake is, then maybe it could work? Hell, he hasn’t mentioned certain things, not really wanting to bring it up with just a guy he was going to have a two-week long fling with.

                Except it’s potentially not a fling anymore. He studies Leo, who is reading and frowning at the backs of several different packets of chocolate. Jake wonders what he’s planning on making, considering just how much food he’s put into the cart already. He pulls out his phone and finally lets himself check the messages that Maria no doubt sent while he was walking to his truck. As he expected, a couple of messages from Maria;

>I like him and I think you two could be really good together. Don’t be an idiot.

>If you do decide to be an idiot I’m going to be his friend anyway.

                Okay then. Pretty clear exactly what Maria thinks of Leo, and to be honest she’s one of the harder nuts to crack when it comes to his sisters. Not that he was intending to introduce a potential… anything, but maybe that had been a little naïve. God, she’s never going to let him live this down if he and Leo somehow… end up something. Lord, was this ever just sex? Leo decisively dumps three blocks of one particular brand into the cart and gives Jake a grin and Jake has to bring it up.

                “So, I gotta ask. How do you envision us having a relationship exactly?”

                “Well… long distance mostly,” Leo says and Jake rolls his eyes, hip checks him and Leo just laughs, hip checks him back.

                “Yeah, no shit. And if it doesn’t work out?”

                “Then it doesn’t work out. As I said, got to at least try right? But we both have to at least want to try.”

                Jake wants to try.

                “Grocery store is a pretty odd place for such a serious conversation…”

                Leo shrugs.

                “Well, it’s neutral and it’s bit of a… transitionary space. Like having conversations in the car when you don’t have to look at the person.”

                “So you mean like we did on the drive here?”

                “Yeah, exactly.”

                “Okay.”

                “Okay?”

                “Yeah. Okay. I guess we’re… trying this whole dating for an intense two-week period and then going long distance. Give it a shot right?”

                Leo looks lit up from inside and Jake has to remind himself that they’re in the grocery store, but he can get them back to Leo’s place in about fifteen if they hustle.

                “Yeah?”

                “Yes,” Jake says, pushing the cart toward the checkouts. “Although, can I just say, if I’d had any idea that this was on the cards I wouldn’t have introduced you to Maria so early. For the record, I wouldn’t ask any guy I was dating to meet my sisters this early. Wouldn’t want to scare him off.”

                “Well, that horse has bolted don’t you think? Also, I don’t scare easy.”

                “Lucky for me…”

                “Plus, you’ve met Vi, she is by far the scariest member of my… oh. Shit.”

                “What?”

                “Nothing. Just… remembered something I should probably do. Sorry.”

                “Okay…?” Jake asks, because Leo is looking a little frustrated.

                “I’ll tell you later maybe. If it becomes a thing.”

                “Okay. Come on. I want to take the guy I’m apparently now dating to bed…”

                “Wow. Romance is gone already…”

                “Was there ever romance?” Jake asks jokingly, but also a little worried because he’s not romantic. His sisters tell him so constantly and he hasn’t tried with Leo because… it was just sex. Oh god. He’s failing at this before he even starts.

                “Enough for me…” Leo says, and he’s biting his lip and looking fucking adorable and something inside him untwists and he wishes the checkout operator would go a little faster. Then Leo insists on paying for the food and Jake scowls, tells him he’s getting the next shop and Leo just grins, eyes mischievous and he says we’ll see, gives him a quick kiss before taking off at a run with the cart, leaving Jake to run after him.

…            …            …

                Jake’s hands don’t seem to leave his body, which makes putting the groceries away that much more challenging, but he’s also not complaining, turning in the circle of his arms and raising an eyebrow expectantly.

                “Thought you were going to cook me dinner?”

                “I am. I will… just… dinner can wait…” Jake says against his neck and Bradley lets his head fall back, breathes in the scent of Jake, his sweat and the dust from working outside, savors the warmth of his skin. He rolls his hips, has been low-level aroused since their kiss in the grocery store, and Jake responds obligingly by grinding right back, slotting a thigh between Bradley’s legs.

                “Won’t take long.”

                “Yeah? Good. We can take our time again later,” Jake mutters, his teeth nipping and he lets out a groan. Maybe it’s a good thing they’ll have time apart, give Bradley time to recover, although he wonders if they’ll always be like this when they’re together, because it will always be a novelty, time together snatched and fiercely held onto, where they both make the most of it. He lets Jake shift him, bodily moving him towards the bedroom and it quickly become a bit more frantic, hands scrambling to touch bare skin beneath clothes and he just lets himself fall.

…            …            …

                He has never wanted to order takeout more, but he also said he’d cook Leo dinner and he’s a man of his word. But lying there, roughly wiped clean, catching their breath, Leo’s fingers lazily trailing up and down his back, soft smile on his face, Jake can’t help but feel pleased with himself. He likes that look on his face. Likes the feeling of everything from the last few days and fuck it’s going to suck saying goodbye. But the idea he might get to have this again? That’s something that will keep him going. Leo’s stomach rumbles then, and Jake shifts and blows a raspberry, making Leo squirm and shift away.

                “What are you doing?”

                “Communing with your stomach. Speaking its language.”

                Leo laughs again and Jake shifts away to standing, hunting around for underwear and jeans, pulls a clean t-shirt from his bag before deciding he might as well have a quick shower. He tugs Leo out of bed, ignores his grumbles about the promise of food and turns the water on, busies himself with kissing Leo while they wait for the water to warm up. It’s a nice way to pass the time before they’re both stepping into the shower and actually rinsing themselves off and it feels alarmingly and wonderfully domestic.

                “So… I’ve been thinking.”

                Jake turns and raises an eyebrow; he’s almost finished but apparently Leo has decided to wash his hair. So much for a quick shower.

                “Yeah? When? Hopefully not while I was trying my best to make you come…”

                “No,” Leo says. “Just before, lying in bed… and I haven’t looked into it, haven’t had time obviously, but depending on where and when you have shore leave, I could potentially meet you there.”

                Jake’s hands still with the quick rub-down wash he was giving himself.

                “You’d travel to see me for thirty-six hours?”

                “You might get forty-eight.”

                “You’d travel though?”

                “Well, as I said. I haven’t looked into it, but if I could get a work gig either side of your leave, then… yeah. I would.”

                “Holy shit.”

                “I mean, no promises. But I’ve got pretty good incentive huh?”

                “My dick’s that good huh?”

                “You’re a dick…” Leo mutters, but his half-hidden smile makes the insult completely pointless.

                “Your dick,” Jake replies with a grin, and the smile Leo gives him is beautiful.

FORTEEN

[vampziry]

void state: tips, affirmations, my experience and motivation.

⚠️ i don’t want to sound “rude”, but i will be very straightforward with all that i’m adding to this post, i want to be a help, not only for you, but for me too. i have encountered my fails and mistakes while practicing the void, i want to address them all below to help people analyze and wake them up.

number one: the victim mentality.

you have probably wondered in any point of your journey: why aren’t my desires here? i am doing everything that i can and they still aren’t here.

you probably don’t notice the problem while you’re thinking like this, your mind got tricked into thinking IT IS like that, you have assumed this for so long that your mind only knows that fact and it won’t change unless you decide to flip the thoughts.

you are wondering.

you are NOT accepting.

the moment you notice that you’re looking for a result to say it’s been working, you will see that you’re doing everything wrong. you are NOT SEARCHING. your desire IS HERE. you just need to switch that mentality and accept it is yours. as soon as your thoughts align with your new mentality and beliefs, your life will go better and you will manifest faster.

number two: the limiting beliefs.

no. you didn’t have any limiting beliefs in the first place until someone started to point them out. you think that because something worked in the way it did to another person, it would be the same for you.

N O.

you can be literally sitting, doing nothing, just thinking OF SOMETHING, and it can easily manifest if you assume it will. you do not need to do what x person did, you do not need to have a strict mental diet, you do not have to saturate your mind to the point you’re drained. you do not need to impress anyone, you do not even have to impress yourself.

why not? because a god knows their power and if a god knows the power they hold, they know that everything is easy and they can do anything cause they are a creator. they want a chair to appear in front of their eyes? sure, they can make it appear. they want to be a leader in everything they do? sure, they are a leader. they want to materialize whatever thing they are thinking in that exact moment? a piece of cake.

the moment you embody the god mindset and you start acting as if, you will mock yourself for wasting all that time doing nothing but complaining and running here and there asking bloggers for advice when you don’t even need that, all you need is: believing in yourself and know your true power.

number three: procrastinating, doubts and wavering.

you don’t have to worry about the why, where and how. it’s obvious that is because you deserve that, if you are wanting something is because you know by fact that you deserve it. the time, the date, it doesn’t matter. it is yours. you are that person you are wishing to become. you have that dream body. you have that dream house. you have all that money.

instead of scrolling down through success stories and feel happy about other success, you should be applying all that you have learned from them and their posts. you are the only one who is capable to change their fate and reality, if you decided to sit down and do nothing, how are you gonna make progress? how are you gonna see changes? it’s contradictory when we say that you can manifest while doing nothing, but it’s not the same nothing KNOWING and ASSUMING it’s yours than nothing NOT APPLYING and POSTPONING your desired life.

i want you to ask yourself: what am i doing? what is stopping me? why haven’t i done progress? and answer those questions with total sincerity. if you think you can’t achieve it, you are stopping yourself and your mind and it won’t manifest. if you flip the thought: i can achieve everything as soon as i set the intention for it, i deserve every one of my desires.

stay loyal to your assumptions, don’t doubt them, what you assume is what you’re gonna get.

number three: the void state.

we really love the idea of getting anything in an instant, it makes us feel untouchable. wrong. it doesn’t make us feel untouchable, WE ARE untouchable.

if you are complaining and saying things like: i don’t know why i am not entering the void, i do everything, i meditate, i affirm but i can’t even feel symptoms.

N O.

stop right there. you are assuming it, every void experience is different even though people describe it as the same, of course IT IS the same feeling but every experience is seen in another point of view. there are some times where you won’t even notice that you’re in.

you need to assume you always get in easily, you need to believe that it is easy. BECAUSE IT IS. people overcomplicating something so simple as breathing and relaxing.

don’t let negative thoughts take over your assumptions, remember, all you have to do is stay still, relax yourself and affirm for it. you need to persist, it doesn’t matter if you aren’t feeling anything at all, you are getting in.

i also had my doubts with it, i would try every day but i noticed how obsessed i was with it that i had to take a break from it and returned again with new assumptions and i have got in twice, the problem is that i fall asleep.

a tip from me if you’re struggling with this deep sleep at night just right after you start meditating: drink coffee throughout the day, start earlier (1 hour before the hour that you usually nap) or have a little nap in the afternoon. it will sure help you a ton. my concept is alright but what’s stopping me from focusing is that damn sleepy feeling.

if some day you’re feeling guilty, remember: that is what you want, why do you want it? cause you deserve it. nobody or nothing can change that fact. it’s yours.

if you still struggle with the void after all, i have some personal affirmations that now won’t be that personal cause i’ll be sharing them with you:

i am the void.

i enter the void whenever i want.

the void is so easy for me to enter.

as soon as i think of the void, i get in.

no matter what, i’m always in the void.

i enter the void easy and effortlessly.

i deserve everything that i desire.

i can’t be behind it if i am the void.

every night i enter the void.

i always wake up in the void.

i love how easy it is for me to enter the void.

i don’t need to worship the state because i am the void and the creator.

i know the void is within me and i can dominate it.

i am a master at the void state.

they could never dominate the void like i do.

i get into the void instantly.

remember that nothing is impossible.

the only thing that is impossible is what you make your mind believe is impossible. you’re a creator, you’re deserving of everything and you have your desires.

[faketrex]

The cakegate bodyswap ficlet I posted a few days ago stands alone as a one-shot... and also, if you were wondering what happens next... here's the next bit of that story.

This a work in progress, y'all, be forewarned! To be continued.

...

SHARING A SLICE... part 2

RWRB, rated T, 600 words (this part).

(click here for part 1)

...

For all Alex had complained about it – being forced to waste his weekend celebrating the marriage of someone he didn't know and a monarchy he wished didn't exist – the plan had been simple.

Fly to England. Sleep, hopefully. Get ready in the morning. Attend Prince Philip's wedding. Drink as much expensive booze and eat as many canapés as possible before getting scolded by June, then compare numbers with Nora. Think dark thoughts about the American Revolution and how, if you asked Alex, it should have been more comprehensive. Stay away from Henry. Leave.

Now, he's standing in a stupid fancy, ugly fancy, break-something-and-get-tossed-in-a-dungeon fancy room with Henry, covered in cake. And he's in the wrong fucking body.

Shit got complicated.

“You can’t leave,” Henry insists, hands on hips in a way that would look silly even if it didn't leave frosting handprints on his pants. (It does.)

“I'm sure as shit not staying.”

“Alex–”

“Do you seriously think I'd stick around after you – I don't even know what to call it. Bodysnatch? Bodyswap?”

“How the bloody hell should I know? You're the one to blame.”

“Me,” Alex scoffs, weirded out by how snooty it sounds in his – Henry's – voice but not letting that temper his anger, “you think I did this? Are you fucking joking?”

“It's quite clear that you dislike me.” Henry shakes his head, making crumbs shower down out of his – Alex's – curls. “I suspect you would take any opportunity to embarrass me.”

“Whatever, it’s still your fault. You know what? I bet it's a curse. Hundreds of years of racist, imperialist, monarchical bullshit and someone finally got fed up and cursed your family's asses.”

Henry stares at him. “Are you mad?”

“It makes sense! Your brother's in line for the throne. Curse the cake, so when he eats the first bite, bam, you've cursed the future king.”

“You are mad, and you've stolen my body, too–”

“Would you like to share your theory, Prince Perfect?”

Henry rolls his eyes. “My point stands. You need to stay.”

“Do you know the expression, ‘get the hell out of Dodge?’ You should, it's–”

“We need to fix–”

The door opens, admitting a tall man with an impressively neutral expression. Alex would be laughing his ass off at the sight of Henry covered in cake. Unfortunately, he's a little preoccupied right now.

“Your royal highness.” The man nods. “Mr. Claremont-Diaz, I’m afraid it's taking longer than anticipated to prepare your transportation, due to your current state of dress.”

Alex can translate: nobody wants frosting all over their town car.

Henry-as-Alex nods politely, then he and the man both look at Alex, waiting. It must be a ridiculous royal protocol thing. Alex needs to pretend he's Henry.

“Thank you,” Alex says haltingly. “That's... fine.”

“Yes, thank you,” Henry echoes, suspiciously fast, “but actually, his royal highness just suggested we reconvene at Kensington Palace.”

Alex did not fucking say that.

“Oh?”

Henry continues before Alex can get a word in. “Since we'll need clean-up for this… event… in more ways than one, he kindly offered the use of Kensington for... strategic planning.”

Alex would not fucking say that.

Both of them are looking expectantly at Alex-as-Henry again.

Alex fumes. Henry's right. They have to figure this out somehow, probably together. It's bad enough pretending to be Henry in front of just one person.

“Yeah. Let's all... go. To Kensington. Please.”

“Very well, your royal highness. I'll inform Mr. Claremont-Diaz’s entourage.”

What Alex wouldn't give to have the simple plan back.

…

(Part 3)

[schrijverr]

You Don’t Know Me, But I Know You 5

Chapter 5 out of 6

5 times Tim showed he stalked Robin + 1 time Jason did

Inspired by this post of thecrazyleader.

On AO3.

Ships none

Warnings: none

~~~~

5. A Familiar Blackmail Moment

It’s during a chase through Gotham that it happens. Most of them are focused on locating the robber of multiple dangerous weapons when there are suddenly two yells over the coms, before a storm of cursing starts up.

“Nightwing, Red Hood, report,” Bruce demands anxiously.

“We’re fine, Dickface just fucking entangled us on the grapplers, like a fucking Dickhead idiot, stupid asshole,” Jason curses.

Dick immediately defends himself: “This was so not my fault, Little Wing. You’re rusty with yours and being mean about it.”

“Don’t you fucking dare put this on me. You bumped into me,” Jason hisses.

“You didn’t check your six properly,” Dick protests.

“I swear you need to shut the fuck up, right now. I have knives and I’m near all your sensitive parts,” Jason threatens.

“Oh my god, are you two tied to each other with your own grapplers?” Steph asks, sounding delighted at the idea. “O, please say you have a visual on that.”

Barbara chuckles: “Oh, I definitely have a visual on that. They’re properly tangled and stuck. I’m getting a video of them dangling there to use later.”

“You have to show me that,” Steph says.

“Of course.”

“It’s not fucking funny,” Jason complains. “I don’t wanna get blackmailed for shit Dickface did. I refuse.”

“For the last time, it’s your fault we’re in this mess,” Dick shoots back. “I’ve been grappling all over non-stop, you haven’t. It’s okay to be rusty, but don’t start pushing this on me.”

Before Jason can give what would have probably been a scathing reply to that, they’re interrupted by a snort. Tim says: “I find it hard to believe Hood caused that when you got B tangled even in your later Robin years.”

It’s quiet for a second, then there’s chaos on the coms.

“Oh, yeah, I remember that,” Barbara comments, as Steph says: “Wait, you’re saying that Bats and Nightwing as Robin did a fish on a hook impersonation? Please tell me you captured that, stalker boy.”

Dick is whining: “Shut up,” as Damian says: “Yes, I refuse to believe this sort of slander.”

“Slander. Slander?” Jason shrieks. “Golden boy here is pinning his shit on me, that’s fucking slander. I can’t believe you, you know. How fucking dare you.”

“No chatter on the coms,” Bruce tiredly reminds them, something he often forgoes, because they have never listened once in their lives. He has already decided to make a strategic withdrawal when they turn against him, happy to have at least diverted the conversation again.

“Oh, now you’re picking his side, huh? When it’s your dignity on the line as well, I see how it is,” Jason bitches. “Creepy McCreeperson, make sure you find those stalker pics you took so I can defend my honor when this asshole tries pinning it on me again.”

“Not really inclined to help you when you’re calling me a creeper,” Tim deadpans.

“I’ll make you a coffee cake next time they put you on a caffeine ban,” Jason offers, obviously trying to sound enticing.

Dick admonishes: “Don’t bribe Red Robin with coffee. You know it’s for his own good and you know that we’re all above bri-”

“Deal,” Tim cuts him off.

“Hell yeah, you’re my favorite paparazzi stalker,” Jason cheers. “Now shut up, Dickface, and tell me how to get loose without plummeting, since you’ve obviously done this before.”

“I hate you both,” Dick complains, before he starts to explain.

[yuurei20]

Ace Info Compilation part 9: Ace, Malleus and Trey

Malleus says that he is glad he came to NRC because he was able to meet an interesting person who is not afraid of him. When Ace asks if he is means the Prefect, Malleus responds that he also means Ace himself.

This is possibly a reference to Spectral Soiree when Ace tells Malleus that the act of kidnapping 600 students and pretending to be possessed by a ghost as a form of entertainment was “not cool.”

Ace tells him outright that he needs to “PLEASE try to show some awareness of how overwhelmingly powerful you are. You’re THE Malleus Draconia.”

Lilia says he is surprised by Ace voicing a complaint to Malleus directly and Malleus observes, “Most students at school keep their distance. And rather a few of them flee at the sight of me. But not you. You spoke your mind openly and honestly, and without the aid of others.”

One of Ace’s earlier interactions with Trey involves Trey convincing him to add oyster sauce to a strawberry tart, and then mocking him for believing it. We learn in a voice line that—much like how Cater invited Deuce to join the Pop Music Club—Trey has invited Ace to the Science Club, but Ace turned him down because it sounded boring.

In a vignette Ace lies to Trey’s face in an attempt to learn answers to an upcoming exam saying that he he didn’t want to ask directly as all Trey would tell him to do is study. Trey offers to tutor him and Ace agrees, saying, “At least you’ll be a lot nicer of a tutor than Riddle.”

Ace causes trouble for Trey in another vignette where he asks Trey to bake a cherry pie for an upcoming Unbirthday Party instead of his usual cakes, inspiring other Heartslabyul students to start submitting requests as well.

Ace insists, “But you’re a pro, Trey. You could improvise!…I know I’d love to have a different type of cake every time.”

Trey decides to let the first-years make their own cake. Deuce calls Ace out for complaining about Ace’s cakes but Ace assures him, “Trey’s a chill guy. It’d take more than that to get him mad. If he got made over that, he’d never be able to manage our short-fused housewarden.”

The first-years’ cake is a disaster, they blame Ace for the mess they make and Riddle threatens everyone with collars.

Trey interrupts just in time with a proper cake for the party and says, “That’s why things are done in a certain, ‘samey’ way. Maintaining the peace is no easy task’ and Ace asks, “Uh, just to be clear, you ARE talking about baking, right? ‘Cause it sounds like you’re talking about the housewarden.”

Trey refuses to let any of the first-year students share his cake until they have eaten all of their own culinary disaster and Ace responds, “So much for Trey being ‘kindhearted and mature’.”

In a different vignette Ace tries to get away with brushing his teeth only once in the evening, contrary to a Queen’s of Heart’s rule, and Trey appears behind him to force him to follow through.

Trey lectures them on the importance of dental hygiene and Ace says, “My preschool teacher babied me less than you…you’re just some kind of weird dentistry nerd! I’m honestly freaked out by how into this you are.”