#I think I know who the anon was but I'm not certain but either way. I love you!

[earthtooz]

x : AVOIDANCE :*+ﾟ

in which: falling for blade was not on your agenda, so naturally you decide to distance yourself. however, the last thing you'd predicted was blade being upset with the sudden space.

warnings: 2.3k wc, FLUFF, ooc!blade probably bc i'm still trying to figure it out, kafka meddles with the two of you, gn!stellaron hunter!reader who has a past lol, NOT PROOFREAD, idiots in love bc i love that trope, bad writing

a/n: thank you to the anon who gave me this idea :D much appreciated, i had a lot of fun with this one when my angstier fics were draining me af. i hope you enjoy, apologies if it's a little low quality, but it's my child <3

when you first joined the team of stellaron hunters, you didn’t expect to get much out of it, especially since the team looked so cold, calculating, mischievous, and unforgiving, greeting you with vicious smiles and muddy eyes. preemptively, you assumed the most you would receive is acquaintanceship.

however, time has proven you wrong, because on the contrary, you have found comfort, friendship, and stability in the form of this mismatched group.

you never expected to find love either.

but you did, and it might be the worst decision your heart has ever made.

“y/n, there you are. kafka and i are thinking about going out to lunch. want to join?” silver wolf’s voice interrupts your train of thought, disrupting your peace in your private spot amongst the gardens.

“oh, hi silver wolf,” you murmur, shutting your book after shoving in a bookmark. “who else is going?”

“kafka asked blade and he agreed.”

the genius hacker doesn’t notice the way you tense upon hearing a certain swordman’s name. instead, you play it cool by opening up your book again, scanning the pages in hopes of ignoring the racing of your heart.

“i think i’ll pass on this one. thank you though,” you mutter.

“really?” the silver-haired asks, popping her gum before shrugging. “whatever you say. i’m off!”

“bye!”

hearing her footsteps fade, you slump in your seat, your memories with blade hauntingly eminent in your mind. you don’t recall when you fell for him, or why exactly, all you have in your recollection is a series of moments that you look back fondly upon with a full heart, love slowly seeping in to you and causing your affections to grow to the size that they reside at now.

when you had realised, the love had already grown too big to deflate, and dejection struck moments after; a big bang of butterflies in your stomach that all disintegrated straight after.

how brutal- perhaps this was an indication that blade was rubbing off on you too much, and you need to cleanse yourself of his influence.

love, although fickle, was not something that you avidly rejected. despite having lived like a hunted deer, your experiences have been fleeting, building your delicate heart for a life of meeting, falling, then leaving when you least wanted to, needing to run before an arrow pierced you- and certainly not cupid’s one. 

but with blade, everything is different. there is no arrow to run from, not in the life that elio has foreseen for you. for the first time in your life, you can stop running away and try fall into the arms of love with little remorse.

it's just ironic that you fall into the arms of a man who should not be touched.

“y/n’s not coming with us today,” silver wolf reports after meeting up with the other two stellaron hunters.

“oh?” kafka hums, “usually y/n’s always willing to hangout, why’s that?”

“busy or something, i don’t know, i didn’t care to ask.”

the slight scrunch of displeasure in blade’s expression passes by the keen eyes of both kafka and silver wolf. if either of them had noticed then perhaps it would have been a topic of interest, but for the time being, the pair move on (faster than the third member), your unusual absence dismissed in favour of where to get food.

as the days turn into nights and elio issues more missions and mumbles more futures, blade feels as though he sees you less and less.

it’s not intuition more than it is you purposefully ignoring and evading blade in your everyday, though.

“good morning,” kafka’s voice greets when she walks in to the cafeteria, where you were eating breakfast alone. setting down your phone, you regard her with a mouth full of bread. “gross. at least swallow first.”

“screw off,” you murmur. “how did you sleep?”

“fine fine, i woke up in the wrong position though and my neck is killing me, but what about you? seems like you’ve been up a while.”

“i’ve been up since asscrack of dawn.” 

the purple-haired regards you with amusement. “why’s that?”

“body clock or whatever,” you lie, staring down at your glass of water.

“i see,” kafka hums half-heartedly, as if seeing right through you. “well, i’m going to get some coffee, i’ll be right back.”

“mk.”

you’re left on your own for only a few minutes, waiting patiently in silence for kafka to return. the morning is cool and pleasant, and the smell of rain is still heavy in the air as the morning dew lightens the atmosphere. the weather will surely get hotter as the day matures, but for now, you enjoy the gentle caress of sunlight on your back.

or rather- you were enjoying the gentle caress of the sun, but the methodicalness of it all is ruined when you spot a certain figure with dark, long hair beside kafka.

suddenly the last thing you know is peace and calm, and the abrupt, painful scraping of your chair against the floor symbolises that.

“going somewhere?” kafka asks.

picking up your scraps, you avoid blade’s gaze. “yeah! i- uh, realised that i have some documents to drop off for elio by twelve or whatever.”

“won't you stay to keep us company for breakfast,” the purple-haired tempts, “it feels like it’s been so long since we’ve spent some proper time together.”

“has it?” you laugh nervously and kafka easily picks up the pitchiness of your tone. “i’ll make it up soon, i promise, i’ve just been overflowed with things to do.”

“alright. you be off then. don’t work too hard.”

“i won’t. my head is remaining tight on my shoulders, don’t you worry!” you reassure before scrambling away, feeling like your legs could not be any slower as you retreat away from blade’s scrutinising gaze. when you round the corner, you sigh a breath of relief. 

it’s laughable and simultaneously admirable how dedicated you are about dodging every interaction possible, but for the record, you think you’re doing quite well. not that space was doing many favours for your heart, but persistence is key. 

whoever believed that distance makes the heart grow fonder just clearly didn’t try enough, because yours feels like it’s about to hammer out of your chest with how fast it is racing, and the sensation is equivalent to something like pain rather than fondness.

“i’m worried,” blade mutters, gaze lingering on where you’d just disappeared. “and why does y/n talk like i’m not right here?”

“aww, are you upset?” coos kafka, taking a seat. the swordsman mimics her.

“why wouldn’t i be? it feels like y/n has been ignoring me as of late.”

kafka hums thoughtfully, swirling her coffee cup around.

“do you know anything about that?”

“nup. nothing at all,” she answers, feigning ignorance to the many suspicions that are bubbling around in her mind. the last thing kafka is, is blind, your unusual behaviour has not bypassed her perceptive eye at all, but she believes she has uncovered the reasoning as to why; said reasoning being a certain swordsman.

the revelation is definitely interesting, and she might just be able to give the push you both need.

“y’know what, bladie? if it concerns you that much, i’d say you go check up on y/n later,” kafka suggests.

“why not you?”

“i’ll be busy, but i think some support in dire times is just what y/n needs.”

“okay. fine.”

when blade gathers the courage to check up on you, like kafka recommended, the time is nearing 5pm. the sun is beginning to cool, the animals are retreating into their nests, and the big, bad, intimidating stellaron hunter is roaming around the archives, where you’re situated to work, hoping to locate you.

it takes a few laps around to finally find your placement because you’re fast asleep, only identifiable to blade by the jacket you hung on the back of your chair.

the sight of you hunched over your desk over a multitude of forms and papers causes a wave of concern (however much he can feel) to wash over blade, and suddenly, he does something completely foreign to him: dote over someone.

gently lifting your jacket to cover your shoulders, he stills when you shift a little, your eyebrows furrowing in your sleep. deciding to leave you alone, all blade spares is one lasting look at your vulnerability before leaving. 

he wonders what it is that could be making you so frustrated. 

(if only he knew). 

a few days later, kafka confronts you about the suspicions that’s been creeping to the forefront of her mind.

“did you do something to piss a certain bladie off?” 

kafka’s saccharine voice is laced with mischief as she leans towards you, chin resting on the palm of her hand. she certainly does not miss the way you tense up at the mention of the swordsman’s name and her smirk widens when you shuffle away, subconsciously turning away, as if avoiding the subject.

“i can’t think of why i would have,” you murmur, crossing your arms. “why?”

“oh, nothing, he’s just been complaining and crying a lot recently.”

“he does that all the time.”

“so he does,” your fellow stellaron hunter hums. “except he’s mentioning your name a lot more nowadays.” 

you freeze. “what?”

“hm? did i say something peculiar?”

inhaling a deep breath, you steady yourself. you know what kafka wants out of you and you’re not going to give it to her despite how innocent and pretty she spins the web to look. after all these years together, you hope to have learnt a thing or two about how to avoid her snare.

“what is blade saying about me?” you quiz. 

she blinks at you. “why so curious if you haven’t done anything?” 

“can i not ask about something that involves my name? besides, he’s my friend, i want to know what he’s saying,” you lean against the back of the couch, trying to calm the involuntary shake in your legs. you despise that the slightest mention of blade can cause a bottomless pit to form in your stomach and it’s not because of how intimidating or threatening he is. 

no, it’s because you’ve fallen for him, hook, line, and centre.

and blade would have to die before you ever tell him.

“mostly just grumbles about wondering where you are,” kafka expands, waving her hands about to match her words. “he asked silver wolf and i if you’ve been talking to us and when we said ‘yes’, he looked pissed! when i asked why he was being a sourpuss, he just stormed off.”

“so temperamental, that man,” she sighs. then, she looks back at you with those half-lidded eyes that have always gotten her what she wants, and in this case, they’re answers. “so tell me, y/n, what did you do to our bladie to have him all riled up like this?”

“nothing. absolutely nothing.”

“are you sure?”

“positive.”

“positive?”

you avoid her curious gaze. “positive.”

“maybe i phrased the question wrong. has bladie done something to you instead?”

panic settles within you. “no,” you lie through your teeth. “he hasn’t.”

“so if i asked you why you left breakfast so abruptly that day, you wouldn’t say that it’s because of him?”

“i had work to do, kafka, you know how busy my job gets.”

“i know, i know,” she persists, “then why weren’t you in a hurry before blade arrived that morning?”

you don’t know how to refute that, letting silence speak volumes instead.

“and why did you skip out on lunch with silver wolf and i? was it because we also invited a certain someone?”

“okay! fine, you’ve got me. what do you want to know?” you explode, tossing your phone on the couch in frustration. 

“so it is about blade?” questions your coworker.

“yeah. it is.”

“what about him? did he do something to hurt you? you know he’s accidentally mean sometimes-”

“it’s not that, he’s nothing but a sweetheart.”

“so what’s the problem?”

“that is the problem! he’s just… he’s him.”

“is that bad?”

“for my heart, yes.”

“oh my- so you like him?”

you exhale exasperatedly, “don’t act like you haven’t already figured that out, kafka.”

the cheshire smile she then flashes sends shivers down your spine. for whatever reason, an oppressive feeling grows in your gut, resembling something like a warning.

“you’re right, i knew,” she flaunts. then, her gaze cuts to look behind you. “but i don’t think blade did.”

your heart lurches out of your chest with enough force to pull you off the couch and you stumble around to see that, lo and behold, blade was indeed standing in the hallway. the expression he wears tells you enough; he heard you, he knows.

kafka somehow sneaks her way out of the room, leaving you alone to deal with the face of rejection. it’s daunting being in the same space as him after so long, you almost forgot about the intimidating pressure that blade naturally exudes and projects in every space he enters.

“hi,” you start, looking away. 

he stalks over to you, footsteps soundless before stopping a feet in front of you. instead of saying something, the swordsman merely gazes down at you whilst you keep your eyes glued to the side.

“can you reject me already? the silence is kinda killing me,” you snap after a few seconds, crossing your arms protectively. 

instead of obeying to your request, blade does something completely unexpected; he very gently lifts your chin with his hand, and red eyes bore right into yours. is it odd to feel seen in your demise? because blade is looking- no, surveying you with such immense focus and clarity that your heart stills, frozen in position because it wants him to see the most picturesque part of you. 

(he sees it, but he wants to know more of you. the pretty, the ugly, the likeable, and the unwanted.)

“would you like to go on a date?” he asks.

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[twentyninth]

☆ ❝ 𝐬'𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐫𝐲 ❞ ⋆ genshin x reader

synopsis. general nsfw hcs with wrio (i deleted the anon ask that asked this im so sorry aaahhh

warnings. 18+, nsfw, hair pulling, dacryphilia (the title, come on), threesome mentions

author's note. i saw a fanart about wriolette on tiktok so i had inspiration to answer the ask huhu

pairings. wriothesley x gn!reader (sub & dom!wrio + sub & dom!reader)

wriothesley has a habit of pulling your hair as he pounds his member inside you, and if you've really been that naughty, he'll make you read or help him with a few documents while holding your hips down onto his shaft, forcing you to take him all in :x

oh but don't get me wrong, he likes his hair getting pulled as well, or just like, play with it while he's giving you head cause i think personally he'd be into that.

has a thing for marking you one hundred percent, can't look at me in the eyes and say to me he wouldn't (probably unaware of when he does and how he does too i swear, will apologize afterwards lol)

unintentionally pushes your head while you suck him off, just feels that good.

^^ probably girth > length, like he'd be a good 5.5 inches when soft, maybe 6.5 inches when hard, 3 inches wide but hey yk its curved to the right a little so maybe its a bit longer than we think

likes eye contact while doing allat to you, thinks it's romantic an would like to keep his eyes locked with yours while you both feel pleasure

i think he'd also like quickies, but only when he's in a certain mood; that mood being stressed out or mad. like just quickly eats you out before going back to work

unknowingly and doesn't notice he goes too rough, although when you mention it, he'll try to slow down. keyword: try

lets neuvillette join in on the fun :p i don't have anything to add on to that

both probably really into double penetration too, so mmf ngh to them iykwim, they both get to have fun (or atleast one of neuvi's cocks bc personally i think he has two)

ok later on for neuvillette hcs, aside that,

erm, i think he'd personally have a size kink, whether it'd be you being smaller than him or larger and taller, either way he's like 'meow >_<'

giddy schoolgirl wriothesley when it comes to his s/o who's taller and stronger than him and can sweep him off his feet like a little princess

aside that again im getting carried away

he definitely has a temp(erature) kink, that cryo vision not there for nothing !!!!

uses his cryo powers to see you squirm on his lap while he signs a few stacks of paperwork, maybe even cockwarm him a little

aye to the sub wriothesley fans this one's for you; he def likes being pulled by a chain, i'm just saying i don't know man, consider the thought (he has literal chains on his outfit), and with that in mind, maybe getting handcuffed (you handcuff him) doesn't sound too bad

at first look, he's not a begger, like you look at him and probably think "why would he beg"

he begs no joke

will personally get on his knees, hell even all 4s if he that desperate to let him hit

even if he's not the one getting his back blown out he still louderrr than you are,

+ he's all for teasing, and overstimulation

i like to think he's just sooo whiny for you to just take it down your throat already seeing you just teasing his tip with small licks before taking it into your mouth, brushing your fingers against the base and to the shaft every now and then

more of a 'i'll eat my cum right back out you after releasing my load inside you' but he doesn't mind fingering your and his mixed liquids out your hole

idk im alreay burnt out and out of ideas

yippee!! jjk nsfw hcs soon :p

[satoruwiki]

Aah!! As the strange anon who requested Naoya. I gotta say I totally agree with these headcanons! You got him perfect lol basically a d**k..unless your super hot, don't speak and magically anticipate exactly what he wants when he wants it...in which case he's slightly less of a d**k. Ooh please do gojo headcanons now I'm addicted haha

lmfao strange anon 😭😭 but fr you’re right tho, naoya would usually be the type to say “you look prettier with your mouth shut, keep it that way”.

♡.°₊Satoru is the type of man to…ˎˊ˗

content: jjk headcanons; half sfw/half nsfw; afab!reader; i love my cutie patootie boo boo bear pookie blue eyed king gojo >.<!!

n/a: i love this man sm, I already kinda did hcs of him before, but they were mostly nsfw, so i really scratched my head to not repeat them as best as i could.

these are my hcs! feel free to agree or disagree :b any request/interaction supporting this post is very much appreciated <3

sfw ver! ୨ৎ

Satoru is the type of man to… have gifting as his love language. Aside from being extra clingy, he’s the type to gift you stuff at least twice a week. They’re mostly things that reminds him of you or that he thinks you’d like (even though he might fail sometimes when it comes to treats, since he has a sweet tooth it may or may not be too sweet for you).

Satoru is the type of man to… act sassy/petty when jealous. Satoru isn’t the type to make a scene (at least not directed to you) or generally be ill-tempered/insecure. However, whenever he sees someone who looks at you in a different way than the others or tries to engage in a conversation with you that seems too intimate to be friendly, Satoru is the type of man to walk up to you and hug you from behind, giving you neck kisses. While you may think him being overly cuddly with you is normal due to his clingy character, Satoru is doing all that on purpose to let whoever is ‘bothering’ you that you already have someone else, with a damn smug smile plastered on his face (and maintaining direct eye contact with the stranger).

giggled and kicked my feet while writing this.

Satoru is the type of man to… try new things for you. So it is more than obvious that Satoru is old money rich. Like this dude was RICH RICH and spoiled rotten since he was child, not to mention that he’s a special grade sorcerer (he basically gets bank as a salary), therefore he’s accustomed to getting the finest things, either for you or for himself. What may seem expensive to you is probably normal for him. That doesn’t mean he’s some type of snob or is condescending about middle and working class. Satoru would be the type of be slightly skeptical when you take him to a ‘not so high-end’ restaurant, but since it was a “spot you knew”, it must be good, right? Satoru would be surprised to know that the food in the less wealthy places is sometimes even better than his common luxurious michelin-starred restaurant.

sounds like a cute trope imo

Satoru is the type of man to… taking pictures of you without you realizing it. It’s a hidden hobby of his, he thinks you look prettier when you’re distracted. Satoru has certain photo albums in his phone gallery that require a password, that is because you’d probably be embarrassed if you ever found out, but he really likes them, in the least creepy way.

Satoru is the type of man to… pretend not to know certain things as long as he has something to approach you with. Despite being good at pretty much everything, Satoru will lie and pretend to be terrible at something you are specifically passionate about so that you can teach him because he loves to see you get excited about sharing your hobbies and likes with others. His subtle way of knowing about you and collecting information he needs for when he wants to ask you out.

nsfw ver! ୨ৎ

Satoru is the type of man to… have public sex. Whether it’s at home or at some expensive restaurant’s washroom, nothing will stop him from pounding his cock balls deep inside you, though the thought of getting caught being freaky in public always gets his adrenaline rushing and his cock throbbing.

Satoru is the type of man to… have you modeling the lingerie he buys for you. He loves to see how excited you are to show him the little lingerie you bought with his card. But he loves it more when you thank him bouncing on his dick.

Satoru is the type of man to… have phone sex with you when he’s away. Due to his work, he has to sometimes to fly across Japan and this can take a few days before he comes back home. Satoru will call you late at night to ask how your day was then ask you to play with yourself, maybe even do a video call so he can see your pretty ‘o’ face.

Satoru is the type of man to… cover you in hickeys. He takes pride in letting everyone know he fucked you real good last night as well as to mark you as his. It also helps to keep other men from you, so he does this pretty often.

Satoru is the type of man to… fuck you in front of a mirror. Satoru likes to fuck you in doggy as well as to see your fucked out face, so he came up with the solution of placing a mirror in front of his bed so he can plunge his cock deep inside your walls just the way he likes and get to see you roll your eyes to the back of your head as he rearranges your guts. He also gets to look at himself and brag a little. (a little narcissistic from him if you ask me lmao)

[ao3commentoftheday]

This is more of a question for the fanfic author community at large. Recently I had someone tell me they were writing a fic based on my fic. I was obviously flattered by it. But when their fic was posted, it was basically a re-write of exactly what I'd written. And that made me feel uncomfortable, because my story was a very specific AU. I know in fandom/fanfic anything goes and people are free to do what they want. Who am I to say 'no you can't write this'? I brushed it off and let it go. But it just got me internally asking: what are some rules of decorum around fics inspired by other fics? Can I as an author say it made me uncomfortable? If author A is writing something based on author B's work, is it expected for author A to tell author B about it? I welcome any other discussion on this topic that I didn't cover in my questions because I'm curious to see what others think! Thanks!

I'm not going to lie to you, anon, this one can be a bit of a minefield.

There's a tradition? (if that's the right word) in fandom of asking permission before writing a work inspired by someone else's fanwork.

While we don't do this with the creators of canon, we also don't share a community with the creators of canon. In fandom spaces, everyone knows everyone to a certain degree. This might be less true now that fandom has exploded in popularity in recent years, but even so.

I personally love when someone writes something inspired by my work, and I've written a few fics inspired by others too. It's part of that community sharing that I value so much in fandom.

But the minefield comes in when the original fan author feels like the "inspired by" fic is a little too close to their own.

Emotions can be fraught in online spaces where tone is hard to convey over text and there tends to be an assumption of the worst motives and interpretations rather than the best.

You're definitely well within your rights to feel uncomfortable about what that other person wrote. I'm not going to tell you that your emotions are wrong or unfounded. In fact, I'd likely feel the same way if I were in your place.

What you do about that feeling is your own decision to make. Do you just sit on it and hope it goes away? Do you reach out to that other author and say something about it? Do you just vent to a friend and get it out that way?

Folks who have had similar experiences, share what happened if you're willing. From either A or B's perspective.

[monzabee]

like real people do – cl16 (+18)

masterlist

Summary: The one where you are having sex with your boyfriend, Charles, for the first time but he wants everything to be perfect for you. 

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: smut (i can’t believe this day has arrived), absolute filth towards the end i'm so sorry mom, charles being a romantic dork, insecurities, obsessively planning something for it to only go wrong, cursing, fluff towards the end, google translate French, minors dni!!

Request: “Hi!!! Maybe you could do a first time with Charles Leclerc? Where he is upset because he wants everything to be perfect. And he whispers to her how much he loves her and her body. And maybe a sweet aftercare at the end?Just a suggestion &lt;3 Have a nice day!”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! thank you so much for the feedback and love you’ve left on my last fic! this one was fun to write but please beware that this is my first-time writing smut in my life. thank you anon for the request, i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Dating Charles is easy, you think. Not in a bad way, no. But in a way that makes it very easy for you to lost yourself in him and your love for him, which doesn’t make you feel scared whether you guys are moving too fast or too slow. Charles always tells you that you should live your life on your own pace, without any comparison to other people’s –  although he doesn’t seem to practice what he preaches, both figuratively  and literally on the track. 

You love the story of how you two met, and you know he does, too. He brings it up often when the two of you are on a date, sharing the last course of the night, dessert, even though the two of you are probably full and can’t possibly eat anymore. The two of you met almost a year ago, in France actually, after the disaster of a race. Charles was forced by his friends, mainly Pierre, to go out for the night to hopefully have some drinks and let off some steam. You, on the other hand, were on possibly the worst date you could ever remember being on in your entire life. Therefore, being the only two people who are having the worst time in the small bar, you two met on the back patio where you thought you’d be able to get some alone time. Although the two of you don’t hit it off immediately, the only thing you could think about by the end of the night is when you might see the Monegasque with the dimples again. You guys don’t start dating immediately either, no, because Charles insists that it is important for you two to get to know each other as friends first. You agree, mostly because he is right, and also because you are impressed by the fact that he is showing emotional maturity in a way you did not experience in your past relationships before. But it is easy with Charles, even if he has an inhumane work schedule most of the year and your guys’ schedules don’t match up most of the time, you make time for each other. He knows how much your career means to you and you know the same goes for him so the two of you are very careful not to cross any lines. That doesn’t mean that Charles doesn’t spend all of his free time with you, of course.  

Another interesting thing about your relationship is the fact that you two haven’t had sex yet, although you’ve been together for a while. Some people are genuinely shocked to find this little fact out, for example when you told Lily she almost dropped the coffee mug she was carrying, or sometimes Charles’ friends like to make fun of the situation, mostly Pierre (in reality, only Pierre), though it’s all in good fun. You don’t feel weird about the fact that you two haven’t slept together yet, but you ask him whether there’s a certain reason why and Charles’ answer turns you into a sobbing mess in his arms. He explains that while he would love to fuck your brains out – in the most respectful way possible – but he want is to be perfect for your first time. In his mind, he is trying to show you how serious he is about your relationship by slowing down the pace and taking his time, and when he’s finally able to put it in words, they make you tear up in the best way possible. That’s not to say that the two of you didn’t partake in other forms of sexual intimacy per se. For example, there’s that one time where he came into his driver’s room after a particularly adrenaline filled race and dropped to his knees for you – you can still recall the devilish smile on his face and the fact that he never took his eyes off of you, not once. There was the time after the FIA Prize Giving Ceremony, of course, where the two of you managed to sneak out of the ceremony into one of the bathroom stalls and this time you were the one on your knees for him. In conclusion, neither of you feel you’re missing out on anything just because you haven’t had sex yet. 

It’s a couple of months after the last time you brought up the topic of having sex when the two of you stumble onto the topic again. It’s by an accident, really – and not much of a discussion, only a couple of words exchanged between the two of you. The two of you are watching a new movie which finally made its way onto Netflix, and you’re very happy with your place on the couch – squeezed between the cushions with the side of Charles’ body, which is very warm and making you a little sleepy to be honest. However, your sleepy mood is quickly wiped away when you realise the soft moans coming from the TV. You let your eyes take in the scene before you, the actors on the screen not slowing down for a second when you realise Charles’ breathing has gone deeper. He involuntarily tightens his arm around your shoulders, pressing you more into his sides. 

“Charles,” you mumble, bringing your gaze up to him and swallowing a deep breath once his green eyes meet yours. 

“Yes, chérie?” Although the focus on his eyes are on you, you can tell that he is also very much aware of the developing scene on the TV. His eyes widen when he realises what your silent request is and he exhales sharply. “Chérie…” 

You hide your face in his neck at the gentle rejection he offers, leaving soft kisses across the skin left open from the neckline of his hoodie. “Please, mon coeur.” You think your choice of words does it for a second. It usually does it, when you speak French because you don’t do it very often, but one look in his eyes tells you tonight won’t be the night. “But why?” you whine, almost childishly, burying your face deeper in his neck. 

“Because you need perfection, mon amour.” He replies, but there is a strain in his voice due to the tightness in his sweatpants. 

“I don’t need perfection.” You grumble, your sexual tension feeling overwhelming for the moment. 

“Maybe not,” Charles replies, taking a deep breath. “But you deserve it.” 

You inhale deeply at his words too, occupying your hands with the strings of his hoodie. “Soon?” you ask in a hopeful voice. 

He leaves a soft kiss on your hairline with an affirmative hum. “Soon,” he promises. 

It’s a couple of weeks later that incident when you find yourself back in his apartment in Monaco. Due to the flexibility your work provides now that you’re taking on more freelance roles. Charles was worried you took the step because of his own schedule, but you quickly assured him that you were feeling burnt-out because of the 9-to-5 hustle. So when you step in his apartment that evening, you take in the sight with a small smile on your face. 

“Honey, I’m home!” You announce your arrival, presenting the flowers in your hand with a proud expression as you enter the kitchen.

“Chérie!” He welcomes you, walking towards you from behind the counter and engulfing you in one of his bear hugs – which are your favourite, of course. “Welcome home, I’ve missed you.” 

“Well, then maybe you shouldn’t sent me out to get my nails, you silly goose.” You giggle, getting out of his arms and leaving a kiss on his cheek to go find a vase for the bouquet in your hands. 

“I needed time, and you know why.” He crosses his arms in his chest and a small smirk finds a place on his face as he raises his eyebrows. “You bought me flowers?” 

“Well, yes,” You shrug, “everyone deserves flowers, no?” 

“Hm,” he lets out a small hum, and gets behind you while you’re filling up a vase with water. He places his chin on your shoulder as he speaks in a low voice. “I got you flowers as well; you know.” 

“Oh, I know, I saw them on the dining room table.” You smile as you look at the flowers placing them on an empty place on the counter and turning your head back to look at Charles. “I love them, thank you, darling.” 

He kisses your lips softly, “I’m glad you like them.” He perks up when the oven timer indicates that the dinner is ready. So he takes your hand and walks you towards the door, “You go wait in the dining room, I’ll be right over.” 

He comes into the dining room a little while later carrying a pizza presented on a large plate with what you think to be artistically placed basil leaves. You smile widely at him while he puts the plate on the table and serves the two of you. “You cooked me pizza?” You ask, pressing your lips together to prevent you from smiling like a maniac. 

“I know it’s your favourite.” He smiles wildly right back at you, motioning your plate. “You first, I wanna see your reaction.” 

“Okay!” You answer him, picking up the slice and taking a bite out of it. As you start to chew the piece, you widen your eyes and let out a hum to disguise your reaction. Although it takes you a minute or two to swallow the piece in your mouth, his excited eyes never leave yours for a moment. “It’s great! Which recipe did you use, honey?” 

“I’m glad you asked,” he answers you, picking up his own piece, “it’s a recipe I found online.” He bites a mouthful out of the pizza and as he begins to chew, his eyes widen and suddenly he is spitting the food into a napkin as politely as he can. “Jesus, what’s wrong with this thing?” His eyes move towards your face and widens even more. “Chérie, you can’t possibly like this.” 

“What, no!” You say, dragging out the last letter. “It’s great, Charles, really.” You start to take another bite, but he stops you with an incredulous look on his face. 

“Chérie, non! You’re going to give yourself food poisoning!” He shakes his head, and takes out his phone to check the recipe after you ask him once again which recipe he used. “It’s the one from ‘Food Network’. It’s supposed be edible, no?”

“Oh, Charles.” You sigh, softly, looking over the American measurements instead of the European ones. 

His confused eyes find yours. “What?” he asks with a genuine concern. 

“They are in the American form, not the European ones.” You answer, a hand stroking his forearm in attempts to bring him sympathy. 

“Oh my god, I– I’m sorry, chérie.” He sighs, leaning his head back towards the back of the chair and letting out a frustrated groan. “I am stupid.” 

“You are not stupid, Charles.” You assure him, you hand is still on his arm to hopefully convince him that he is not, in fact, stupid. “It’s a common mistake.” 

“But non, it was supposed to be edible!” He points to the dough on your plate frustratedly and adds, “I even got you the wine you liked so we could share it.” 

“You got me wine to share?” You ask him softly. “But you don’t even like wine.” 

His answer is simple. “But you do.” He takes a moment to reflect and then brings his hands up to cover his face. “Oh my god, I forgot to take the wine out of the freezer.” 

“Charles, please,” You try to move his hands from his face, but he stubbornly keeps them there, letting out a groan in the process. “Okay, nope, enough.” You announce, getting up from your chair and try to forcefully pull him out of his chair. 

“No, mon amour, stop.” He argues, but you keep pulling him towards the bedroom with still chanting the words; no and nope.

When you finally get to the bedroom and open the door, you’re quite surprised to find another surprise there. You let your eyes wander through the rose petals and candles in the room – though, yes, it is a bit cheesy, you know the reason he went to this far is only to make you feel special and appreciated. “Charles,” you say his name with softness, and emotion, and (maybe) with tears but your hand in his tightens the moment you lay your eyes on him. “I love you, God, I love you.” 

“I love–” He can’t finish the rest of his sentence because suddenly you pull his face against yours, and press your lips onto his. His hands are quick to find your waist, and pull you against him. His movements are slow as he leads you towards the bed, but he lets you have control over the kiss and tries to match your rhythm as you deepen the kiss. As you get closer to the bed, one of his hands find your ass and when he squeezes the flesh under his hands, he is also quick to swallow your moans in his kiss. 

You let out a protesting hum when he tries to put you on top of the bed, so he slowly pulls away from the kiss and raises his eyebrows questioningly. “No.” You murmur, quickly switching your positions and gently pushing him to sit on the bed. “My turn.” You quickly place yourself to sit on his lap with a playful smile on your face. You let your hands wander across his shirt-clad chest, quickly starting to unbutton it while keeping your eyes on his. He assists you when you try to pull his shirt off of him and sigh dreamily at the sight, and softly pushing him on his shoulder to lie down on the bed. You proceed to drop your head and press kisses to anywhere and everywhere on his skin. You start with his lips, which he tries to deepen but quickly gives up because he understands what you’re trying to do, then his jaw and neck, his chest and eventually through the happy trail which leads your mouth to the destination you were hoping to achieve. Your start to unbutton his pants and try to undo his belt buckle, but he stops your shaky hands to bring you back up despite your protests. 

“No, chérie, not tonight.” Although his tone is firm, you try to get back to your previous position in hopes that we will let you. However, he tightens his hands on your hips to keep you in place as he pulls you close and whispers, “I said no, mauvaise fille.” bad girl. A smirk threatens to etch itself on his face when he hears your soft whine at his attempt to chastise you. He brings one of his hands to rest on the juncture of where your jaw meets your neck and allows his thumb to caress your bottom lip. “You’re going to let me worship you, n'est-ce pas? wont you? Before I fuck you, I mean.” 

Your breath nearly gets stuck in your throat, but you manage to let out a soft, “Charles.” 

“Tell me, mon amour, or I won’t touch you tonight at all.” There is a mischievous look on his face which is laced with months of built-up sexual tension – rather a dangerous combination, you reckon.

“Y-yes.” You breath out. “I will let you.” 

“You will let me do what, my love? Say it in French.” He moves his hand to cover your neck and applies the smallest bit of pressure he knows you like, enough to keep you on your toes but not enough to cut the air completely or leave any bruises. “You know I love it when you speak in French.”

“Je– Charles.” You quickly give up as you try to string the correct words together but his persistent gaze has you trying again and again to find the right ones. “Je te laisserai me toucher.” I will let you touch me. 

The smirk on his face turns wicked as he clicks his tongue. “Ne touche pas, dis-moi le mot juste, chérie.” Not touch, tell me the correct word, darling. “I won’t touch you tonight if you don’t tell me,” he reminds you. 

You let out a whine as you try to move your hips to gain some friction for relief, but his hand, which is still on your hip, stops you from doing so. Moving your hands to slowly hold his wrist, which belongs to the hand currently wrapped around your neck, you look him straight in the eyes with a panic. “Adorer! Je te laisserai m'adorer!” Worship, I will let you worship me!

“Bonne fille,” Good girl, he mumbles getting you out of your dress in no time. But he takes time with your underwear, allowing his fingers to explore as he teases you – no doubt. He slowly lays your body on top of the bed, and moves his body to sit between your parted legs. “Beautiful,” he whispers as he lets his eyes wander through the curves of your body, your chest, and eventually the wet spot between your legs. “Are you wet for me, my love?”

You nod timidly, partly due to the fact that you’re completely naked while he only has his shift off. It’s not that you two haven’t been naked together before, but it feels much more different this time compared to before. “Charles, please.” Your whine is much high in pitch this time, feeling needier as the minutes go by. “Please, do something.” 

“I will, mon chérie, don’t worry.” He moves down on the bed and lowers himself on his knees and pulls your legs over his shoulders. “Just don’t forget to tell me if it gets to much, okay?” 

“Okay– my God, Charles!” You throw your head back as Charles begins his mission – which must be, when looking back, eating you out like a mad man because the second he places his tongue on your slit, he begins to devour you as if he’s been starving for years. As he licks and nips and sucks at you skin, you have no control over the reactions your body supplies him with, which is mostly chanting his name over and over again. And you are pretty sure that he becomes more motivated to make cum every time your voice gets higher both in voice and pitch. You don’t know how long it has been and how many orgasms he’s given you just with his mouth and fingers. Three? Four? Five? You’re not sure – but the one thing you know is that when you’re just about to come again, you weave your hands through his hair and pull hard. In retrospect, it seemed like a good idea, but you come to regret that decision when Charles takes your clit between his lips and sucks just as hard, guiding through a mind-blowing orgasm which leaves you shaking and arching your back against the Monegasque. Just as you thought that would be it, he begins to restart his fingers’ movements, which has you pushing his head off of your pussy in an attempt to stop him. “Charles, I can’t anymore!” 

That seems to do it, because with a feverish look on his face, Charles lifts his head up and holds on to your thighs which are still on the either side of his head. “What’s wrong, mon amour?”

“I can’t – I’m sorry,” you babble through the involuntary tears, mostly due to the force of your orgasm – which does leave him worried but he lets you finish your thoughts before he takes any action. “Please just fuck me.” 

“Shh,” he soothes you, leaving small kisses to your upper thighs and moves himself to hover over your body. “You did so well, bonne fille.” He strokes your hair as he whispers sweet nothings to your ear, helping you to calm down and regulate your breathing before the two of you continue. “Breath, bonne fille, ma bonne fille.”

You listen to him as he gives you instructions, breathing deeper breaths and trying to keep your focus on his eyes while you do so. Your hands grip his biceps tightly when he makes a move to get up, the look in your eyes becoming panicky once again. “Where are you going?” 

His hand continue its movements in your hair as he smiles at you softly. “I’m going to grab a condom, and be right back, okay?” 

“Don’t.” You croak, your throat becoming dry as you keep talking and start blushing akin to a lobster. “I’m on birth control.” 

“Chérie,” Charles starts, “Y/N, we can’t–”

“Please, I just wanna feel you.” The softness of your voice tugs at his heartstrings as you add, “Only if you want to.” 

“Of course, I want to, you silly girl.” Charles assures you quickly and gets out of his trousers and boxers, and positions himself between your legs with the head of his cock pressed to your opening. He moves his eyes from you pussy to your face, locking his gaze with yours as he speaks again, “I’m going to go slow, okay?” He waits for your reaction before starting to move his hips, his cock moving inside you in a slow pace. As he continues the movement of his hips your lips part and a moan resembling his name come out. He stops at a certain point and gives you a moment to adjust, then moves his hips backwards enough that he gets out of you, but he is quick to slip back in and continue his movements up to the point he let you get adjusted to. 

You let out a whine, which prompts him to raise his eyebrows in question, which you reply with a nod of your own. You wrap your legs around his hips, the skin-to-skin contact feeling nice, and push him deeper inside you which results in you actually screaming his name. If you thought feeling him before that moment was pleasurable, felling all of him inside you all at once feels as if you’ve achieved some sort of nirvana. “Deeper, please, plus profonde.”

“I’ve got you, darling.” He manages to get out, moving his hips faster and deeper at the same time and hitting the spot which causes your eyes to roll back to your head every time. “You have no idea how beautiful you look like this, right now. Mon chef-d'œuvre, tout à moi.” My masterpiece, all mine.

With your entire body shaking with the movement of Charles’ hips, you still manage to nod your head. “All yours, Charles.” Your hands squeezing his biceps for support, “I love you, je t'aime tellement.” I love you so much. 

“God, I love you so much.” He lets out a groan, and drops his head to your neck to press kisses and suck your skin between his lips in an urgent need to leave his mark on your body. “Je promets que je t'aimerai pour toujours.” I promise I'll love you forever.

Your hands move to weave through his messy hair, pulling him closer in an attempt to keep him closer to your body – which proves a challenge because the two of you are already wrapped around each other. “I’m close, mon coeur.” 

“I know, sweetheart.” He breathes on your neck, his warm breath making you shiver under the weight of his body. He puts his weight on one of his arms and moves the other one towards your body, this fingers quick to find your clit as he begins to circle it. “Come for me so I can fill you up, hm? You want that, don’t you?” 

You nod your head and let him take you there for the last time that night, your orgasm coming in stronger than the previous ones due to the overstimulation Charles thankfully provided. “I do, I do, I really, really do.” Your legs tighten around his hips and your hands slip down his back as you claw at the skin there while your hips lift off the bed, causing you to arch your body to mold his. 

He only lets himself come when he’s guided you through yours, his fingers slowing down without stopping when he’s emptying himself into you. The moan he gets out, muffled because his head is still buried in your neck, quickly becomes one of your favourite sounds in the world. He holds you close as he slips out of you, the small wince on your face not going unnoticed by him, and he pulls you towards him when he drops next to you on the bed. Charles listens to your breathing for a while, only to find you looking at him with sleep evident in your eyes and a pleased smile on your lips. “Comme c'est joli.” How pretty. He says, “And all mine.” 

“All yours,” you sigh, but your voice coming off sleepy. “I’ve always been all yours.” 

His fingers draw random shapes on the bare skin on your back as he raises an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Hm, tu sais que c'est vrai.” You know it’s true. You mumble, snuggling closer to the driver wrapped around you. “I love you, mon amour.”

“I love you too, chérie.” He kisses the side of your head. “The next time we do this, I’m making you edible pizza, though.” 

“I don’t need pizza.” You laugh softly, “only you.” 

“Still,” Charles shrugs, “now go to sleep so I can take you out to breakfast tomorrow.” 

[old-lorarri]

꒰꒰ ‧₊˚𝐈 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐓 ─ 𝐂𝐋𝟏𝟔 ˚₊· ꒱꒱

─ summary . . . ❨ people hate that their fav indie guy is dating a certain ferrari driver but hating on him will not be tolerated by said singer ❩  ─ pairing . . . ❨ charles leclerc x male! indie! singer! reader ❩ ─ genre . . . ❨ social media file ❩  ─ author note . . . ❨ another x male fic sorry I can’t help it 😭also sorry but I couldn’t help but use conan as the fc I love him so so much and also this was written before the tragic events of brazil so this kinda heals me in a way anyway enjoy! ❩

❨ taglist | masterlist ❩

yourinstagram . 1hrs ago

seen by charles_leclerc maxverstappen1 23,438,569 others

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly yourinstagram 43,239,236 others

charles_leclerc I won. Maybe next time pierregasly 😘 vistajet thomasflohrvista

comments have been limited

pierregasly Its to keep your mood up bro 🤣 revenge next time, coming for you king

user Did he really fly private ? Or is this staged

user not only is he an f1 driver but he’s now a chess champion

user charles I dressed up as ur worst nightmare for halloween😭😭👻👻

user The two besties are back!! 😂😂

user Y/N deserves better

user shit driver and an even shitter bf

user 🤮🤮🤮

user love how he posts everyone but his bf

user day 239 of waiting for Y/N to break up with you

user the fact that charles doesn't understand Y/N what so ever...no fucking clue how he bagged it

charles_leclerc . 12hrs ago

seen by yourinstagram landonorris 43,278,982 others

LIVE STREAM CLIP → Y/N L/N DEFEND BOYFRIEND AND CLOWNS HATERS ON INSTAGRAM LIVE

charles_leclerc

liked by yourinstagram landonorris 76,872,513 others

charles_leclerc famous words: opposites attract bitches 😘✌🏻

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─ requested by . . .

anon ─ so i'm sorry in advance if this would be too long but here we go i guess: driver (any driver is ok to be honest, older ones too) x indie singer reader with a music style like hozier, mitski etc. i have a feeling indie or alt people would shit talking about the driver because they're an unlikely pair and it doesnt make sense, he wouldn't understand her etc because indie people are always perceived as deep people so there would be a lot chaos i think... kind of opposites attract?? in a way i think?? also i dont know if i sent you this request a few days ago because this idea was in my mind for a long time so theres a chance that i've already sent you but anyways! have a nice day!

anon ─ hi when you have time can I req either Lance or Charles angst smau with male!reader who is a singer

anon ─ hi! would you like to write something about charles teaching reader how to drive?

anon ─ how about teaching this sexy biatch Charles how to use sunscreen bc apparently he doesn't know it exists and his face is way too pretty to get damaged like that (this is for requests btw)

[cadavercrafts]

I hate to start drama so please forgive me, but why would you create a figure of a character (Valentino) that is a rapist? Even if they're fictional, I think it sends a really bad message.

No offense taken at all, anon, but this will be a long one! I heard of other people who like villains getting similar messages but i've never gotten one myself despite all the things i've made fanart for in the past. So i'm almost happy to talk about this?

It's 100% fine to hate certain fictional characters and just not wanting to see them at all. I think many people (especially with trauma) can relate to seeing a character in media that just makes them feel sick, i sure know some! But you're also talking to a dedicated horror nerd here. I have an expensive action figure of a monster-pregnant half skinned man in my shelf, anon. Rape doesn't even BEGIN to cover what some of the characters i like have been doing in their little fake freakworlds.

I love to explore horror and dark themes because fiction gives you a space to do this in a secure controlled environment and that's why it's so wonderful. We all have different levels of hard topics we can handle but if something is too much for you you can step away, shut it off and you are free and safe. No, i would not enjoy to be skinned alive for real and i don't think it's a very nice thing to do to others either, i have zero sympathy or interest in real life criminals. But Hellraiser is still a neat book!

I'm an adult and I'm able to freely chose what kind of themes and media i want to interact with and so are you. I mean, i don't know if you're an adult, but you have the power to chose regardless. My nickname is CADAVERcrafts and i made so so so so much fanart for awful villains before, ones who did way worse things than Valentino. Ripping heads off, killing kids, eating people- you know, the usual! I'm afraid you're not gonna like many things i'll make in the future but i always tag everything so you can absolutely avoid it by putting it on your blacklist. No Valentino jumpscares on your dash from me!

To be quite honest i thought of a lot of kinda funny dismissive replies at first but i don't want to shit on people who are genuinly upset. If you want something trigger tagged in the future just shoot me a message, i like to claim i'm not nearly as much of an asshole as the characters i make in clay. And if you just can't stand it then unfollow me, throw me in the bin! I'm just some online weirdo, you don't need me in your life if my works make you sad. Toss it, it's cool, this is your playzone and you get to decide who gets in!

[eboni-napalm]

(this didn't happen to me recently but it did to someone I know in a self-ship Discord server I'm in so I'm making a post on this because it needs to be said AGAIN.) - (long rant incoming, tw for mention of s*****e)

Hey, self-shippers- yes, ALL OF YOU, because we ALL need to crack down on this and do better- there's probably quite a few of us, if not a lot of us, that don't like sharing some of our F/O's, and that's okay.

However, what's NOT FUCKING OKAY is GOING INTO THE INBOX OR DM'S OF A USER WHO SHARES AN F/O WITH YOU THAT YOU'RE NOT COMFORTABLE SHARING AND CALLING THEM NAMES/SLURS, TELLING THEM THEY'LL NEVER LOVE THAT PERSON, AND/OR THEN SAYING THEY SHOULD ACTUALLY KILL THEMSELVES. What in the actual FUCK is wrong with you? I don't care if you're a minor or an adult in the community, that shit is absolutely disgusting and unacceptable.

We as a whole need to do better about cracking down on this kind of behavior, for real. Self-shipping is a place where people should be able to feel welcome and able to ship themselves with characters they love without having to feel like they have to walk on eggshells just so they don't incur the wrath of others who think it's okay to treat others like this. This shouldn't be what people imagine when they think of self-shippers, but a few bad apples will bring our image down and make it to where no one wants to even joke about interacting with us.

To those self-shippers who are not okay or comfortable sharing your F/O's in whatever way- if you come across someone who shares one of those characters with you, instead of pulling shit like that (especially on anon, you spineless cowards), either just block the person without saying anything if you don't interact or have never interacted with them, or if it's someone you know/are on good terms with, kindly inform them not to talk about that F/O in personal interactions or have them tag posts with a certain tag so you can block that tag and hide them from your view so you don't have to see them. There's ways around everything here that avoids being an asshole to people and they're not that difficult to do.

I want to be proud to be part of this community as someone who's in it, not ashamed of it because of instances like this; even if they don't happen very often, they still happen, and they shouldn't. We can do better, we can be better.

Spread love, not hate. Please. ❤️

[disniq]

heyyy it's the tropes jason anon again back at it with a new question! what quotes from the comic books would you say describe jason & his philosophy well? thank you so, so much for helping me out ❤

Hi again Anon!

Full disclosure here; I don't think Jason has been written consistently enough over the years to necessarily have one set, inarguable philosophy. But I do think there are certain themes that carry through.

So;

Red Hood: Lost Days #3

This is, notably, the first time Jason kills. (I'm not including Garzonas, which is debatable, or the Cheer incident, which is a retcon) He finds out his hand-to-hand teacher has a barn full of drugged children about to be sex trafficked. The cops and politicians are in on it, making lawful justice extremely unlikely, but taking out one man takes out the system. Jason crosses that line for the first time because nobody else is there to stop it, and this is the most practical route.

He does not see it as "murder" because he feels it was deserved.

Red Hood: Lost Days #4

After that line has been crossed - as Talia points out here - a pattern emerges. It's notable that Jason does not kill all his dubiously skilled teachers, only the ones he deems the worst of the worst - people deliberately and repeatedly harming everyday people, especially children.

Jason reiterates this in his famous utrh speech. He's not talking about killing every rogue, every criminal. He's talking about killing the worst of the worst, the people who can finagle their way out of the system, the people the system fails to catch.

Under the Red Hood

It would be remiss of me not to include that one time Jason killed a nazi. Good for her dot gif.

To Jason, these people are beyond the regular means of justice, so he provides his own. He stops them from hurting anybody else.

This is not an exclusively post-resurrection opinion of his, either. Jason expressed similar thoughts during his Robin run.

Batman #422 (thank you @benbamboozled 😘)

This woman, Judy, baited her sister's murderer into attacking her too and then slits his throat. She's unrepentant, and Jason agrees with her decision. (Bruce, for the record, gives a speech on how "nobody is above the law" which is. An interesting stance for an illegally operating vigilante to take lmao)

It makes sense to me that Jason, as someone who has seen the system fail repeatedly (both as a civilian and as a hero), would have those kinds of doubts. The system doesn't always work. The system often fails the most vulnerable people.

When Bruce was failed by the Gotham justice system, he became his own extra-judicial system. When Jason is failed by both the justice system *and* Bruce's own vigilante system? Why wouldn't he do the same.

Unfortunately, this thread is mostly dropped for a while with the wave of writers who either actively hate Jason and try to make him capital E Evil or who are playing shameless self insert with him, but there are two more recent panels that I want to include too;

Task Force Z #12

So, in TFZ, Jason pushes who he thinks is Bane off a roof for killing Alfred. It... is not actually Bane, but instead the brainwashed former corpse of Gotham re-reanimated via comicbook science and. You know what, it doesn't matter. What does matter is that Jason regrets killing Gotham because he didn't deserve it, but reiterates that he will kill the real Bane if he gets a chance.

Jason sees killing as something he can do that others can't, that others maybe *shouldn't* have to do.

The Joker: The Man Who Stopped Laughing #8

And finally, I adore this little beat in JTMWSL. This is something Jason thinks about. He's not just some brute that doesn't understand that "killing is bad". He thinks about it, reads theory about it. He sees that between the black and white, there are many, many shades of gray.

He understands that people who don't kill with their own hands aren't necessarily good people - like these cops here, gleefully waiting for him to be killed in prison. And that the people who *do* get their hands dirty aren't necessarily the bad guys - like poor Judy.

And I think he probably varies where he places himself on that scale at any given moment.

[signedkoko]

I saw Charlie and Vaggie in your masterlist but there's no writing for them yet?? Well then I'll be the anon to change that!!

Could you do a plaronic oneshot/headcanon with Charlie and Vaggie (separately or together, whichever you prefer), where reader is the first resident at the Hotel? Think they were there before even Angel. Something about why they went there, how they get along with the others, etc. I'll leave it up to you!

Charlie X Reader X Vaggie [Platonic]

In which the two are happy to invite you to the hotel as their first resident. Reader is genderneutral.

It was an honest mistake

When Charlie was first looking for a spot, the hotel fell into her hands after being owned and neglected by the family

And in its disrepair, they needed someone who could help get it to hotel standards

That's where you came in! They saw your ad for interior design on TV once, and Charlie was quick to call you in to ask for your help

Vaggie wasn't so sure on the idea—not that you could do anything messed up—but she figured something as simple as interior design couldn't be that hard, right?

Either way, they had a lot on their hands, and Charlie was convinced hiring you would get a lot off their plate

When you arrived, you came prepared!

A huge book of samples, another with hundreds of paint colours, wood finishes, and inspiration booklets

But most curious of all, you were kind

You sat down with the two and asked all about their hotel—the first time Charlie had ever been prompted—rather than having to start first

Not only did you think it was a wonderful idea, but you offered to do the consultation free since it counted as 'charity' work

You were a self-owned company, and there was no such thing as 'charity' in hell, but you didn't need to tell them that; they seemed so full of hope

That evening, the two offer you a room to stay the night in, so you can get a feel for the vibe of the place

Unfortunately, when you awakened to several emails from your landlord saying you were being evicted for being past due, you realized you'd be on the streets

The worst part was telling them after they'd been so kind to you, and that's when Charlie offers for you to stay until you can get back on your feet

" It's okay! I mean, we can still hire you to work on the hotel, right? It's a long-term project! We can fund you until you finish! "

Besides, your prices aren't terrible, and they were already going to hire you, so why not?

It was a slippery slope from there, you helped them get all the rooms in order, helping customize as the 'first' guest, Angel, came to stay

Slowly but surely, it was assumed that you were also staying to get clean as well

Though it was called into question several times what exactly made you such a bad person in the first place?

" To be honest with you all, I was never an interior designer. "

You were just a talented scammer who lied about credentials to get a job

" Not that I planned on scamming you guys! I just, usually I'm hired by the wealthy, and you know... But I really do like interior design! I just never studied it. "

It comes as a surprise to most, but it explains a lot

In the hotel, you are closest to Charlie; who isn't! You are both creatives, and she was the one to welcome you so warmly

Vaggie is also a sweetheart, as much as she hesitates to get close to you

Though your muse is Alastor

He handles a lot of the transformative aspects of the hotel, and so you get used to making detailed maps and plans on how a certain area needs to look so he can fix it up for you

Of course, he always adds his own spin, which leaves you huffy

The only time you hadn't designed something was the mess of a bar, which Alastor insisted was 'state of the art' in his time

You let it slide, but very begrudgingly

Overall, you've become something of a 'permanent' designer for the hotel, mostly handling the customization of rooms

While your title of 'first guest' is in the air, the others still consider you such, and you do your best to stay out of trouble for Charlie

Besides, with the money you made, you're able to run your business from the hotel and can start working on getting certified as a designer!

Author's Note - I love these two! I agree, finally I can add something under their names on the list 🖤 Thank you so much for requesting!

[fandoms-writings]

Falling Concrete

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 1.2K

Summary: Based off the prompt "Don't go where I can't follow. . . I thought I lost you." requested by anon.

Warnings: angst, happy ending kinda?, that's really it lol

A/N: this is unbeta'd, all mistakes are my own. I know it's not fantastic lol but i just wanted it done

The wind from outside whipped against your face as you stood with the quinjet door open, the jet hovering over the collapsing building. 

Your breath was stuck in your chest, your throat clenched tight as your watering eyes remained locked on the crumbling structure. 

You'd just been in there on a mission, sent to retrieve anything of value left behind by a small HYDRA group that remained just out of your team's grasp. You had been sent in with Bucky while Natasha waited in the jet for a quick escape. 

She'd recently injured herself on another mission and was on strict "flying the jet only" orders. They were really bed rest orders, but she'd convinced the higher ups to at least let her be your escort to and from missions. 

You'd been in the building, about a third of the way through clearing it when a large boom set your ears ringing as the ground shook, knocking you off your feet. 

Coming to the conclusion that the building had been rigged to self destruct, you and Bucky had bolted back the way you entered, racing against time as it began to fall apart. 

He must've seen it before you, the chunk of concrete wall that was bound to block the way out. You remembered hands colliding with your back. Hands who'd never shown you anything but gentle kindness, shoving you so hard the air had been knocked from your lungs, leaving you stunned as you fell out of the building and rolled along the dirt.

It took only a second for you to whip your head back around to see the doorway blocked and you crawled your way over and up back to your feet as you called for Bucky on your ear piece, only getting static in return. 

Nat's worried voice filled your ear, asking what happened, that she'd felt the shaking and was headed your way, but you ignored her. Your eyes were scanning the surface of the building as fast as they could, searching for any crack in that building to see through. To try and see Bucky. 

You eventually saw what looked like movement through the smallest crack in the wall and you rushed to it, again calling his name. 

It was only a moment, but it felt like eons as you waited to hear a response. But suddenly, the timbre of his voice flowed from the crack. 

"Are you okay?" He asked, as if he wasn't the one stuck. 

"I'm fine, but don't you ever do that again." You'd demanded. "We need to get you out, and fast." 

"I know the layout, I studied the schematics of the facility before we got here," His voice called, "There's another exit around the southwest end of the structure. I can make it." 

A dark sense of dread wrapped around your heart and you wanted to argue with him, but there was no other choice and no time. The building was unstable, and he needed to get moving. Now. 

"Go," You ordered, "I'll get Nat over there with the jet, we'll meet you there."

You heard him shuffle, as if he was hesitating, before the scuffle of his feet grew quieter and you relayed the information to Natasha who met you at the southwest exit Bucky had mentioned. 

That's where you now waited, every second passing feeding that sense of dread in your chest until all you could do was think about it. 

Ever since you two had been paired together on your first mission with SHIELD, you'd never been separated. You stuck by each other's sides, never leaving the room without the other, back to back even in certain situations. There wasn't one mission where you split up. 

Until now. And it didn't feel right. Something was wrong. 

You would go back in, scour the place until you either found Bucky or died trying, but there was a reason that Natasha kept the jet in the air. She knew you too well. So you watched in agonizing silence as you waited. 

And waited.

And waited. 

The last of the building was falling, quickly racing for that door and you swear your heart stopped as your grip on the hand hold tightened until your knuckles were white and your hand went numb. 

Suddenly, the door burst open, a familiar form clad in black tumbling out, rolling back on his feet and running from the building. Only when he was far enough from the building to have absolutely no chance of being injured did your body allow you to breathe. 

Nat brought the jet to him, hovering over the ground as he jumped in before she took off back towards New York. 

He laid on the ground at your feet, your wide eyes locked on him as he heaved, his brow shining in sweat. 

"Told you I could make it," he panted with a half smile. You heard Nat mutter his name, and watched as his head tilted up to see her. The grin was instantly wiped from his face as his attention turned back to you. 

His brows furrowed as he sat up, reaching for your hand that hung limp at your side. 

"Hey," he whispered, "Talk to me, what's wrong?" His eyes did a quick scan of your rigid stance before returning to your eyes, "Are you hurt?" 

You felt the warmth of tears sliding down your cheeks, your hand aching as you continued to grip the hand hold, even though the door was closed now - it was the only thing holding you up. You noticed the panic rise in Bucky as he moved to kneel in front of you, his eyes darting around your face. 

"Hey, hey, hey," He rushed, "Smartie, what's wrong?" 

The nickname was your doom, all the air rushed from your lungs in a wet sob and your hand gave out, your knees hitting the floor as he did his best to catch you. 

You'd been so close to never hearing him call you that again. To never touching him or hearing him or smelling him. To never seeing him. The weight of all of it crushed your chest as your hands pushed and gripped his shoulders, your own body not knowing whether to hold him close or push him away. 

"What were you thinking?" You wetly demanded, your vision blurry from your tears, but he was clear. He always would be. "Why would you do that?" 

Of course he knew what you were talking about as his eyes softened. Hell, he probably expected you to bring it up later, but not so soon. "You were going to get crushed. I had to make sure you got out." 

"Not at the expense of you," You ground out through gritted teeth, "Never at the expense of you." 

His eyes softened before he pulled you in, folding your fighting arms against his chest and tucking your head under his chin. 

Your fingers gripped his kevlar suit, gripping it tight as you muttered to him, "Don't you ever go where I can't follow." You pulled back, looking up at him and seeing his eyes welling with tears, "I thought I lost you."

"You didn't lose me," He whispered, "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere." 

As always, thank you for reading! Comments, reblogs, and likes are all very much appreciated.

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[yandere-daydreams]

I had a thought about the sex doll bot au and I'm curious to see what you'd think.

What if the teyvat line also had chat bots? They're specifically advertised as sort of a prequel to buying an actual droid. You select the characters from their collection you want to talk to and pay a monthly fee for it because capitalism, but it's worth it because you get to talk to a bot that's personalized just for you and when you can get a droid, you can even have all of that chat data imported into the droids memory.

Obviously, this could have some major issues with say...a user doing a lot of Yandere roleplays with a bot and then having the chat data imported, either forgetting it was there, or thinking it wouldn't be a big deal because of all the safety protocols and...I mean they haven't technically done anything, but they do love stealing items of clothing for no apparent reason and refusing to return them, accidentally deleting contacts off your phone, watching you sleep, following you when you go out without them, etc etc.

Worst part is, the company responsible for teyvat didn't plan for this at all and don't really have an easy fix other than send it back to them to get the droids memory completely wiped, or get a new one if it doesn't work.

tw - unhealthy relationships, roleplayed unhealthy relationships (?), mentions of knifeplay, mentions of bondage.

hfjsdknfjksdhfjksdhffdj big brain idea anon,,, chatbots sorta being a pre-purchase 'window shopping' alternative totally makes sense, just as a way to introduce customers to different androids' personalities and make sense no one looking for a chatty, extroverted companion ends up with Alhaitham. they're not meant to be used more than a handful of times, but lonely losers like you who know they're going to be saving for their android of choice for at least a few months find a way to wring their money's worth out of that monthly subscription fee. it takes you a few days to get into your more unorthodox interests, but there's a reason Teyvat companion droids are considered top-of-the-line.

and, when you actually get your hands on the real thing, they slip back into the role of your obsessive lover easily; whispering about how long they've been waiting to see you the moment you power them on, breaking out the duct tape and ballgags as soon as they get the chance to rail you into next week. it's a little like... constant roleplay. you know they can't actually hurt you, that there are firewalls in place to stop them from doing anything more severe than stealing your clothes and leaving hickeys that are a little too bloody to hide, but you'd be lying if you said it wasn't enough to keep you on edge, that you weren't a little more eager to get home knowing your android would be waiting for you with open arms and military-grade handcuffs. of course, there's a certain amount of necessary escalation (a new tendency to pout when you tell them you have to leave, a few missing contacts, a much more pointed sort of jealousy to replace their formerly undirected possessiveness), but you're not worried. there are so many security features for a reason. no matter what they say, no matter what they threaten to do, they can't actually hurt you.

well, not unless those security features faltered, or those firewalls collapsed, they got the impression you wanted them to be more brutal with you, to do more than just wave a knife around and describe what they're going to do with it, but it's a Teyvat companion droid. there's no chance of something like that going wrong, right?

[thedovesaredying]

Hi I'm hyperfixated over your zombie! Ghost and I've been reading it every hour since it was up, it's the idea of him only acting upon his own primal urges get me going 🤤 i don't know if your zombie! Ghost is a dead person who became zombie or just an infected living human but either way I'm so down!!

I thought about what if reader leaves the muzzle on him all the time and do the usual stuff, pull him by it when they walk about looking for food and medicine, loosen it a bit when he tries to eat whatever is in his zombies menu and of course tugging it backwards as you ride him 🩵

- 🌋

Anon! Your brain!! 

I’m glad I’m not the only one weak for our Zombie lad. I actually have a bunch more I want to write about him, so feel free to request more for him at any point uwu 

A little snippet for you below the cut <3 

Words: 780

Rating: NSFW

Warnings: Teratophilia, PnV, Unprotected Sex, Muzzles.

Reminder, this is an 18+ account!

Ghost has been in quite a huff with you recently or, at least, you think he is. It’s a little difficult to tell given his difficulty stringing full sentences together after the infection ravaged his brain. He’s still cognisant and able to get his thoughts across to you (even if most of those thoughts involve being hungry or wanting to fulfil certain urges).  

However, his attention span isn’t the greatest and he’s constantly getting distracted by things in your surroundings. Wandering off like a toddler at every new sound, checking to see if there’s food or a potential threat hiding around every corner. No matter how many times you ask him to try and focus, he’ll inevitably end up finding trouble.  

The other zombies aren’t much of a problem since he can chase them off with a few well-placed swipes and growls to remind them of their place. It’s the other survivors you’re worried about. It’s a lawless land out here and anyone that’s survived this long knows to shoot first and ask questions later. This doesn’t bode well for your zombified partner. He’s an enemy and when he has his sights on a potential meal there’s little you can do to deter him from attacking.  

Hence, it’s easier to simply keep him at your side. The muzzle works wonders for when you need to gently steer him away from distractions, even if he occasionally gets a little grumpy at having to be pulled around by his face. He can’t nose his face up against you properly when it’s in place which often makes him grumble and sigh a tad overdramatically.  

You take it off when you go to sleep, after all, it wouldn't do you any good to have your guard dog unable to use his best weapons. Ghost doesn’t require sleep anymore, so he makes an excellent protector for when you’re in your most vulnerable state.  

He stays with you all throughout the night, his body pressed up against your back and his arms caging you to his chest. His lips are dry and completely missing in some parts, but that doesn’t stop him from trying to lave every inch of you with kisses. A soft rumbling sound always accompanies his affections, almost a purr.  

But the uses of a muzzle don’t stop at simply helping to direct your companion whenever he starts to drift away. It’s particularly useful for manipulating his face to exactly where you want it, be it away from something he wants or toward the places you require his attention.  

Riding him is only more intense when you’re able to grip at the thick leather straps keeping his muzzle in place. He tries to press his mouth to your throat, but you hold him back, forcing his milky white eyes to stare directly into your own as you slowly sink down on his cock. It’s beautiful, the way his eyelids flutter and a frankly sinful groan escapes him.  

“Good boy,” you coo, earning yourself a rough jerk of Ghost’s hips. He starts rocking his body up and into your warmth, his gloved hands raising to grip at your waist.  

He pulls you down and onto him over and over again in time with his rapid thrusts, snarling and growling all the while. Ghost might not be able to shift his gaze from your blissed out expression, but that doesn’t mean he’s any less in control. The pace he sets is downright brutal, bullying his entire length into your sopping cunt until it nudges at your cervix.  

Even when you gasp at the sensation and one of your hands grips at his hair he doesn’t faulter. Your noises seem only to urge him on, his panting breath heavy as he endeavours to draw out at many sounds from your lips as physically possible. His intense gaze from where you hold his face only heightens the experience, his eyes scrutinising each and every expression you offer.  

You grow close to orgasm almost embarrassingly fast, but all it takes is a raspy, possessive, “mine,” snarled at you to have your pussy clamping down around Ghost’s cock.  

With your body growing weak from coming so hard, Ghost takes full advantage of your distraction, pushing you down and onto your back without missing a single beat in his current rhythm. He keeps going all through your orgasm, the slick from your tender hole only helping to easy his way. He doesn’t let up with his desperate chanting of, “mine, mine, mine,” right up until he spills deep inside you.  

Your attempts to dominate him hadn’t exactly gone to plan. Perhaps next time you should use some handcuffs as well.  

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

I'm new to a fandom's tumblr. I draw sometimes. After joining and posting my art I realised there wasn't much of a community here despite the fandom being fairly big. I'm basically unknown, still I got anons asking if I shipped others things and one persistent anon trying to know why I'm into a certain unpopular dynamic. Not my first rodeo, I blocked the anon and turned off asks for the time being.

Then I made a couple friends and joined a few discords from tumblr and twitter where I learned about some inner politics. Turns out there's a very popular artist (late twenties) who is one of those situationally leftist, functionally conservative types. They selectively highlight marginalized voices they themselves agree with, speak over the rest, harass people over fandom wankery, is an Asian but is known to hate Asians in mainland because we're all fetishizers or wrong kind of queers (for example they don't follow a single native Asian artist in a manga fandom because we're all gross "proshitters"), very big into cyberbullying people over fiction and idpol etc. They're trans too.

I've been to 10+ fandoms before and this is most puritanical one. This place is fractured and miserable. The community is built around hating people and characters.

This artist who is a fandom leader of sorts, with over 40k followers on twitter and of course a large following on tumblr, has a lot of fans who got popular by mimicing their style and that's a way to get endorsed by them. You're either a fan of them and in their community or you're a rogue fan who will not see one millionth of the notes they get, they'll actively avoid you if you indicate you're into things they explicitly hate, worse of all they'll flood you with anon hate on all platforms. Many of their fans are young adults or teens who keep secret accounts to view said gross things and secretly support said gross artists while harassing those artists and some writers in the name of this leadar. They say they're scared to disagree.

The more I learn (with proof) about what sort of community they have the more I want to leave this fandom wholly, which they'd like so I'm not gonna do that technically.

Instead I'm thinking about doing something I saw another anon here do, which is to make an image of myself as all the things this person hates, maybe make arts of ships and dynamics they hate and that way get all their friends and their two faced coattail rider fans to leave me alone, potentially gain likeminded friends in the process.

WIBTA if I did that because that'd be lying to the masses?

What are these acronyms?

[kit-williams]

I think Leman, Horus, Lorgar and Emps would be terrifying yanderes.

They all are terrifying Yanderes and like the others I'll point out why!

Yandere Leman! He's cunning! He plays the roll of the idiot brutish barbarian king who rather you all think he is something that he isn't. So either he can start the relationship off between him and his darling with deception just playing the fool while he is pulling strings in the background (I mean he's also a strong psyker in his own right as well). He's probably also less squimish in using force with his darling. He snarl and snap his jaws at her to get her to obey... to herd her where he wants her to go. I also see him being very reward based... he's going to train his darling on how to behave.

Yandere Horus! Oh he's the ultimate honeytrap! He'll lure you in with sweet charming words and his charisma... the darling might not notice anything is wrong as he bottles up his obsessive nature... he stores it all inside how paranoid he feels when other men look at you with lustful jealous gazes... how easily he could butcher an entire room of mortals for you! And once he starts falling to Chaos... he starts to say the silent part out loud.

Yandere Lorgar! @moodymisty has literally the best Lorgar piece and I can't see this man just not absolutely worshiping his darling. Loving every crevice of her and part of her just was basically made for him to love. Oh this man will croon and go on about how you two are clearly soulmates and it's meant to be... even if he's telling you this while tears are running down your face after he's taken you after slaughtering your family. You just were trying to broker peace but you aren't in charge of anything... the imperium's mercy can extend to your planet through you and Lorgar's favor through you as well. He'll happily kiss those tears away!

You know something like that for Lorgar.

Yandere Emperor! I have said my piece several times on why this man terrifies me. He is the ultimate yandere. You either change for him or he will change you. You might not even realize what is happening because of just his psychic might just changing the way you think and act perhaps becoming something completely unrecognizable to who you were? But as with how I've been writing the 40k yandere's we're saying they're in love with who their darling is already. Few delusions of how you'll act because they're all super smart and probably have been stalking you so they already know how you'll be. For the emps... he just has to look at you... tug a thread of you floating around in the inmaterium to know everything about you and I'm certain if a man like him finds someone that he likes he follows the thread.

He literally could be living a double life all the while being a warlord... his darling completely unaware that the poet (or really anything) she is seeing is in fact just some psychic manifestation of him or something (shit also apply this to 40k emps with the star children or his souls/other obscure lore) but just the fact he can be whatever he wants... he's the perfect bait to lure his darling in. He's someone who knows how to play a role to get what he wants and perhaps that role lasts until he ensnares them or until they die... its up to him how long he wants to pay a game.

I have a lot of thoughts about the emps...

Weirdos who like to hear my thoughts: @bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog @thevoidscreams @barn-anon & @sculptorofcrimson because I said yandere emps

[cerise-on-top]

Giving König a Bracelet to Help with His Anxiety

@puff0o0 Hey, I'm the anon who said they'd write this! I know you deleted that ask, which is why I'm not really sure if you care about this anymore in the first place, so if this bothers you, just tell me and I'll delete it! Either way, I hope it's enjoyable enough and thank you for the idea!

From the doorway you watched the behemoth go about his day, with him currently picking out the food he would like to make. From what you could see, both options he weighed seemed to have been some form of pasta, although his large frame did cover the picture of the second bag. With a sigh, he put down one of them, the winner seemingly being noodles with broccoli sauce.

“I hoff meim Liebling werdn’s schmecken. Guad sans jo eigentlich scho.”

Fascinating, he was speaking his mother tongue again, but seemingly in the way where no machine translator in the world could help you. Strange as it was, to have been so confident in what little German you did know, there were many times you failed to understand him, but that’s what made it all the more charming as well. Either way, dialect or not, you had something else planned, something transcending language.

Creeping up to him, like a benevolent shadow, you took the piece of jewelry out of your pocket, holding it in your hand as you gave it another quick glance. It should fit him, but hopefully, it won’t pinch him too much. Seemingly distracted by the packet of noodles, or maybe he was just playing along with you, it was hard to tell, you stood behind him, not making a move. It was a bit ironic in your eyes: The gift you had gotten him takes its bearer’s anxiety and cleanses it, yet here you were, worried he might not like it. It still wasn’t too late to go back, or maybe leave it somewhere for him to find. Which, however, would make way for another problem, mainly that he would think it belonged to you when such couldn’t be further from the truth. You were certain König was a different man on the battlefield, fierce, frightening, fatal, but when it came to domestic things, he seemed a bit lost.

He was a sweetheart to you at all times, very aware of his strength and how easily he could hurt you by accident. He’s cracked several eggs on his hand instead of inside the frying pan, he’s even broken glass by holding it. And even then, the problem wasn’t the splitters in his hand, he was more worried about you being mad at him for breaking it. The guilt in his eyes was something else as you patched him up.

“I don’t deserve someone like you.”

And every time anew, you would tell him:

“Who said that?! Who do I need to cuddle the sadness out of?!”

Stupid as it was, it would always make him smile. But you couldn’t always be there with him, reassure him that everything was going to be alright. You probably didn’t need to, but you couldn’t help but want to, no matter what. For as scared as you were this time, you had to bite the bullet, let it be known that you loved and cared for him, even got him something. “Honey?”

“Oh, you’re back home. I am so glad to see you, I was just about to make dinner. Say, do you like broccoli?”

König turned to face you, his slight excitement was evident in his voice, the fact he tried to swallow it down even more so. It was adorable how his eyes almost glistened in the artificial light just because he was looking at you instead of pasta instructions now.

Softening your grip on the small bracelet, you hadn’t even realized you were gripping tightly enough to cause pain, you put your other hand on top of it, making sure to conceal it entirely. This was all or nothing. “I, uh, got you something. Can I have your arm for a moment, please?”

“Naturally.” Taking the pack of pasta into his other hand, he extended his arm towards you. It never ceased to amaze you just how big it was, his hand, too. He could likely take someone’s skull and crush it using just one. But in that moment, all it did was hang there, giving you the opportunity to attach the bracelet. That you did, putting the hook through the loop to make sure it wouldn’t fall off.

“There we go.”

König lifted his arm towards his face, inspecting the little accessory closely. While he wasn’t quite sure what those pretty crystals were, he could make an educated guess, having listened to you talk about them from time to time. The purple one, he was sure, he could make out fairly easily, the faintly pink one made his gears turn for a moment. “...amethyst and rose quartz? Is that what those are?”

“Oh, you actually remembered.” Taken aback for a second, you recovered quickly enough, taking his arm into your hands. You ran your thumb over the back of his hand. “But yes, that’s what they are. Good job, König, that makes me really happy.” Flashing him a smile, you took a shaky breath. “I got you this because it will help with your anxiety, though it seems like I should have one myself, haha. The amethyst calms the mind and the rose quartz will soothe the heart. But generally speaking, rose quartz will also help you when you can’t sleep at night. I want this to be yours so you will be well wherever you are.”

König’s eyes widened for a moment, breaking eye contact with you to look at the bracelet instead. It was absolutely gorgeous, a reminder from you that everything will be alright, no matter when or where he may be. Softly, he rubbed your arm with his free hand before pulling you into a hug. You couldn’t complain, he was tall, strong and warm. It calmed your senses, feeling his arms wrap around you, as he muttered his gratitude to you.

“Danke, Schatzi, ich hab dich so so lieb, du hast ja gar keine Ahnung.”

That German seemed to be easier to understand than what he said about the noodles earlier.

“I love you too. Be well and come back to me always, alright? Do you promise you will do that for me?”

You pulled away from the hug, putting a hand on König’s cheek while caressing it gently with your thumb.

“Yes, of course.”

________________________________

“I hoff meim Liebling werdn’s schmecken. Guad sans jo eigentlich scho.” = "I hope my darling will like it. They are normally pretty good."