#but he scares me ???????? for literally no reason . i mean all three of them do and he scares me the least out of the three but still

[hishighnesstheprincess]

Sorry but this image and all it represents is still driving me crazy like a full three hours later and I just wanna talk about it real briefly

First off, the obvious. This is about as direct an image of Maria being shot and bleeding out as we can get while still keeping the franchise appropriate for kids, so while it is stylized not only do we basically get confirmation of Maria being shot either directly in her heart or close to it, but I believe the cracks running down her body are meant to represent blood.

Second off, the less obvious (and mostly just headcanon). Unless they're changing up the sequence of how Maria dies, this isn't the last time Shadow saw Maria, because she would have been hunched over a console and about to pull a lever right before he gets sent to Earth. Instead, I think this is the moment that she gets shot. No matter how brave Maria canonically was, facing down GUN soldiers and refusing to give them any information about Shadow in some depictions, I think Shadow himself would have seen her as a terrified, hurt young girl, who seems to be trying to reach out to him and falling backwards at the same time. Whether or not she did literally do this as she was shot is up for debate unless we straight up get a cinematic of everything that happened on the ARK with no cutaways, which I think is highly unlikely even for this franchise, but what matters is Shadow's recollection of the event. Maria here looks scared, hurt, traumatized, reaching out to the person who was supposed to protect her and save her life. Either this is Shadow's genuine perception of how Maria felt at the moment she was fatally injured, or this is a cruel knife twist from Black Doom- either way, it's fucking horrific, and speaks to how Shadow must blame himself for her death, even if he ends up ultimately hating humanity for it.

On the other hand, the words "Maria" says when this shows ("Shadow! Remember!") could mean two wildly different things. Either it's Black Doom trying to twist Shadow's memory of her (either just to bring him pain or to lure him to the ARK for whatever reason), or this is Shadow's subconscious trying to make him remember what actually happened on the ARK. We might get further revelations about wtf happened (beyond the stuff we already know, of course) either later in Dark Beginnings or in the game itself, but I'm not sure if her line is going to be fully explained or not. I don't think it has to be, it could just be referencing the consistent memory fuckery Shadow has been subject to (thanks, Gerald/Black Doom), but it would be neat if it tied in with something later in the game.

[lycanthian]

sigh

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Do you think Harry could be scary at times? Like put actual fear into people? Because I think I remember some moments where Hermione was afraid of him or was a least kinda hesitant with him. Like this quote here from HP and the Deathly Hallows:

“You nev­er re­al­ly tried!” she said hot­ly. “I don’t get it, Har­ry – do you like hav­ing this spe­cial con­nec­tion or re­la­tion­ship or what – what­ev­er – “

She fal­tered un­der the look he gave her as he stood up.

“Like it?” he said qui­et­ly. “Would you like it?”

“I – no – I’m sor­ry, Har­ry. I just didn’t mean – “

He literally just looked at her, stood, and she was over there stuttering and backing down.

Yes! OMG, yes! Harry can and is scary when he wants to be and I love him for it!

A few more examples that popped into my head:

“I haven’t finished with you, boy!” “Get out of the way,” said Harry quietly. “You’re going to stay here and explain how my son —” “If you don’t get out of the way I’m going to jinx you,” said Harry, raising the wand. “You can’t pull that one on me!” snarled Uncle Vernon. “I know you’re not allowed to use it outside that madhouse you call a school!” “The madhouse has chucked me out,” said Harry. “So I can do whatever I like. You’ve got three seconds. One — two —”

(OotP, 45)

Uncle Vernon reacts to him with anger, which is his fear response. But Harry is talking quietly and deliberately, he isn't shouting and Vernon shuts up and listens, not cutting Harry off with his shouts. Harry actually cuts him off speaking quietly and Vernon lets him. And Vernon lashes out, as he always does when it comes to magic — because it scares him. Harry scares him.

“Well, it’s like Hagrid said, they can look after themselves,” said Hermione impatiently, “and I suppose a teacher like Grubbly-Plank wouldn’t usually show them to us before N.E.W.T. level, but, well, they are very interesting, aren’t they? The way some people can see them and some can’t! I wish I could.” “Do you?” Harry asked her quietly. She looked horrorstruck. “Oh Harry — I’m sorry — no, of course I don’t — that was a really stupid thing to say —”

(OotP, 450)

Hermione stutters around Harry quite a bit. I think she is, like, concerned about him at all times at the back of her head a bit since it takes very little from him to rattle her. I'm not copying it here but you see it too when Harry shouts at her and Ron at the beginning of OotP, Ron argues back a bit, but Hermione gets incredibly rattled. Hermione doesn't deal with Harry's anger well. There are more scenes like the one you mentioned as well.

I'm re-reading Deathly Hallows right now and came upon this scene:

Somehow her [Hermione's] panic seemed to clear Harry’s head. “Lock the door,” he told her, “and Ron, turn out the lights.” He looked down at the paralyzed Dolohov, thinking fast as the lock clicked and Ron used the Deluminator to plunge the caf into darkness. Harry could hear the men who had jeered at Hermione earlier, yelling at another girl in the distance. “What are we going to do with them?” Ron whispered to Harry through the dark; then, even more quietly, “Kill them? They’d kill us. They had a good go just now.” Hermione shuddered and took a step backward. Harry shook his head. “We just need to wipe their memories,” said Harry. “It’s better like that, it’ll throw them off the scent. If we killed them it’d be obvious we were here.” “You’re the boss,” said Ron, sounding profoundly relieved. “But I’ve never done a Memory Charm.”

(DH, 146)

That needs to be talked about more.

Some people like to point at Remus telling Harry that "the time for Expeliarmos is over" as proof Harry isn't willing to kill, but this isn't true. Harry isn't willing to kill Stan Shunpike, whom he considers innocent, Harry was the calmest of the trio and very much considered killing the Death Eaters and chose not to for completely tactical and cold reasons, not ones of ethics or qualms about murder. And I love the dynamic this short scene portrays with the trio a lot. Like, Harry is calm under pressure and calls the shots, Ron offers a way to deal with things, and then Hermione actually executes the memory charms. And here too, when Hermione stepped back, she was scared of Harry (and Ron a little). She doesn't for a second think he wouldn't kill them if he thought it was the right thing to do. She stepped back because she was scared Harry would kill them.

“...Thank you!” said Mundungus, snatching the goblet out of Ron’s hand and stuffing it back into the case. “Well, I’ll see you all — OUCH!” Harry had pinned Mundungus against the wall of the pub by the throat. Holding him fast with one hand, he pulled out his wand. “Harry!” squealed Hermione. “You took that from Sirius’s house,” said Harry, who was almost nose to nose with Mundungus and was breathing in an unpleasant smell of old tobacco and spirits. “That had the Black family crest on it.” “I — no — what — ?” spluttered Mundungus, who was slowly turning purple. “What did you do, go back the night he died and strip the place?” snarled Harry. “I — no —” “Give it to me!”

(HBP, 245-246)

Harry lifts Mundungus and strangles him... and both Mundungus and Hermione are scared of him... because he is scary.

said Voldemort coldly, and though he could not see it, Harry pictured Bellatrix withdrawing a helpful hand. “The boy . . . Is he dead?” There was complete silence in the clearing. Nobody approached Harry, but he felt their concentrated gaze; it seemed to press him harder into the ground, and he was terrified a finger or an eyelid might twitch. “You,” said Voldemort, and there was a bang and a small shriek of pain. “Examine him. Tell me whether he is dead.” Harry did not know who had been sent to verify. He could only lie there, with his heart thumping traitorously, and wait to be examined, but at the same time noting, small comfort though it was, that Voldemort was wary of approaching him, that Voldemort suspected that all had not gone to plan. . . .

(DH, 612)

Voldemort is outright scared of Harry and isn't willing to come near him to check if he's dead...

Like, I am not a fan of the weaker, softer fanon version of Harry James Potter that I see on occasion (obviously everyone can do what they want, I just personally don't like it much when he's portrayed as small and submissive as if Harry has ever submitted in his life). He is not as tall as Ron, but he isn't short either (the same height as James, so likely around 6 feet), he is physically capable of lifting Mundungus even without magic with a single hand and he is so magically capable (more than almost every other character, bar exceptions like Dumbledore, Voldemort, and Snape). No wonder he can be scary, both physically and magically. And yes, Hermione is outright scared of Harry at times. So are other characters.

So, yeah, I strongly agree, Harry can definitely scare people if he wants to, and sometimes even when he doesn't. He seems to have an intimidation factor he isn't fully aware of and therefore doesn't notice all that much.

[mhsdatgo]

By the way, you can say you hate characters and STILL admit that they were abused or harassed. There's literally nothing wrong. Denying it or romanticizing it because of a strange kink of yours won't make your hate any less evident, trust me.

Rhaenyra was abused. She's continuously taken advantage of, and brushed away the moment she isn't needed anymore. And she experiences this first hand with her own father, who completely ruins motherhood for her when she grows up watching Aemma get impregnated and either miscarry or have the baby be stillborn or die in the cradle. If Viserys had been by her side as a supporter to her claim since the start, he wouldn't have gotten Aemma pregnant again and again in the pursuit of a male child. He wouldn't have married Alicent for the same reason. Even after, the only reason why he still stands by her side, and it's time the fandom accepts this, it's solely because of his grief and guilt, because Rhae is the only remnant of Aemma.

And there it starts. Firstly, groomed and left alone naked and alone by her uncle in a brothel. Secondly, slept with Criston Cole (although she did coerce him, that's still a literal TEENAGER) then she's married to a gay man and still approached super young by her new bodyguard and just one year later she's started giving birth to his children. (Side note: FUCK Rhaenyra x Harwin. FUCK with reverb. With hard K.)

And up to this point, most fan agree that she's had a shitty life, although I don't agree with some of her choices. (like her treatment of Criston Cole and the bastards, not because I'm some kind of bigot, but because passing bastards as trueborn in THAT precise world sets them up for failure, not being legally deserving of a thone DOES NOT mean me hating them. That's for another post.)

To top it all off, she meets her uncle again, and there starts the fanfic self insert. They have sex on a beach the day of Laena's funeral, the only one of the three wives he's ever been canonically loyal to (FUCK you writers) and fans think it's soulmates meeting again or sum shit. They subtly threaten Laenor to fake his death or actually die (that's what they were trying to do, cope harder) and marry mere days after the death of Laena.

Yes, all cute and romantic (for Dumbnyras twats) but literally, has it done anything good? For Rhaenyra or like, anyone else? It just brought Daemon closer to the line of succession. Literally. That's all the good it has done.

Fast forward to ep 10. How do I even start with this? Only Jace seems to be on Rhaenyra's side. It's clear he only obeys to Daemon out of fear and is scared to talk back to him. Meanwhile, he COMPLETELY disregards his wife's, and by his faction's loyalties, QUEEN's, orders, he ignores her wails of pain as she miscarries their daughter out of pure shock and grief for her father's death. He lashes out and chokes her on the same day and people still see him as the malewife to Rhaenyra's girlboss. They're always ready to do award-deserving mental gymnastic to justify this man.

"He was planning war because he wanted to distract himself!!!!" "He only choked Rhae because he was mad at Viserys, he'd never hurt her!!!!!!"

Fuck off. Coming from probably Rhaenyra's #1 hater. Fuck. Off. Don't say you care about her place in the view of men when you're ready to justify shit like this.

This is the same man who runs off and has an affair with a teenager, and then prefers going on and having a badass death instead of joining his wife and children who need him in King's Landing.

Do I like Rhaenyra? No. Do I think that, because of this, she's never been abused, or exploited in any way, in her life? ALSO no. My distaste for her character has NOTHING to do with Viserys, Criston, Daemon, Harwin or literally ANYONE ELSE in her life.

Alicent Hightower time, baby.

My mother, my aunt, my grandmother, my entire bloodline, my Roman Empire. And more. To anyone who thinks of her as nothing but a bitter/jealous girl, go read @feretrumdulcia 's post about this matter cuz there's literally no one I've seen that words it better. (And bub if you're reading, long live you and the way you think.)

https://www.tumblr.com/feretrumdulcia/720746371814195200/i-have-seen-quite-often-that-many-people-consider

Anyone who can read this and argue that Alicent is envious/jealous or bitter, honestly needs to take the heart shaped sunglasses off, get off tumblr and Ao3, learn what media literacy is and start learning how to possess a crumble of it. To us it makes sense to synpathize with both, because we've seen the big picture. To Alicent, Rhaenyra gave her virtue to the man that almost killed her brother, and chose to believe she did not out of trust and maybe nostalgia for her friendship and easier times, only to have her father be blamed and taken away from her as a result.

She has four kids in the span of, how much? Five, six years? Seven at best? Helaena and Aemond are NINE MONTHS APART. Viserys didn't even let her rest after she gave birth to her daughter. And I'm convinced 100% that he kept her as Idk some whore he didn't need to pay for because it's stated that he never wanted Aegon but the son he butchered Aemma for. Why keep on bedding her and forcing children on her when you'd never get what you want from her?

Throughout the series she's called bitter and downright a c*nt for this and that reason. She tries convincing Viserys that Rhae's children are CLEARLY bastards and she's setting herself and them up for failure by committing treason and putting them on the throne? Nah, power hungry, jealous, bitter. She marries Helaena to Aegon as a last resort because she's Valyrian and probably would've received proposals worse than the ones Rhaenyra made that would eventually convince Viserys to give her away? Hates her daughter, abuser, shitty mom. Rhae's sons slit her son's eye out instead of running when they had the chance and she rightfully lashes out? Nah, crazy ass, for the dungeons. She gives money and moon tea to her son's rape victim to ensure she gets a way out and isn't forced to have a baby she doesn't want? Bruh, rape apologist. She goes to Aegon and RIGHTFULLY disciplines him? Abuser. Forced to show her feet to a rancid filthy man to know where her son is? Upholds the patriarchy, hypocrite. She convinces Aegon to start fighting for her family because it's either them or the Blacks and he needs to start putting his life together and fight for them, so she crowns him and makes him King? Treason, deserves death, long live the brothel queens.

Somehow, it is ALWAYS HER FAULT. And those few that admit how wronged she was make fun of her.

CAN SHE FUCKING WIN?! Or y'all just hate her because she isn't Valyrian?

Btw almost all of these arguments are the same for Book!Alicent who I personally believe to be FAR MORE than just a bitter stepmom that hates her stepdaughter. She arguably has more reasons to start a coup against her in the books without that prophecy shit.

TLDR; It's OKAY to hate characters and admit they're abused and taken advantage of at the same time. You don't have a moral high-ground on no one because you hate or love a character instead of the other.

[merowkittie]

hiii! i saw you were doing requests for deadpool and wolverine i have 2 but you can pick

1.Subby wade and logan polly if you do that

2.Black fem reader coming home with those really pretty blow out and wade/logans reaction

example:

🍒

Omg i love BOTH SO ILL DO BOTH AND TAG YOU IN THE NEXT!! Thank you for the request, i hope you enjoy <3!

Blowout Season — DP & WV

warnings: past violence mentioned / sexual comments made by wade ofc / characters might be a bit ooc!!

notes: this is my first time writing for both deadpool and wolverine so bare with me as they might be ooc!!

hairstyle changes are a huge thing. i mean, looking at wade with his fake toupee made you scared to ever go to sleep. (truly it was horrendous.)

so going to get a blowout for yourself? let’s say you definitely were a bit worried. what if they cut your hair too much and you left with less hair than you walked in with? what if they accidentally put a dye in it? or if they put relaxers in it?? but that worry faded as soon as you saw yourself in the reflection of the mirror in the salon.

let’s say sexy isn’t even the word, and you couldn’t wait to show your boyfriends, wade and logan the results!! hopefully they’d be all over you.

the drive home was nerve wracking as you’ve never had this style before with them, and you rarely switch up your hair since you never have time with all these missions and problems wade drags you three into.

on one hand you didn’t see why you’d be worried about them not liking it when they literally love you in anything.

you can recount on one occasion when you woke up from a terribly long nap and your hair was everywhere, drool dried up on the corner of your mouth, and your tank top struggling to keep your goodies in, and wade kissed you right on the lips and called you good looking..

yea, you don’t know what he saw in that moment but the gestures was appreciated.

logan one time called you beautiful on a very rough mission after you two slaughtered a bunch of bad guys and got covered in blood and a bit of guts. he said that he thought he was looking at an angel. how lovely even though you had human remains on you. :)

now as you’re pulling to a stop to park your car and bounding your way up the apartment stairs your practically melting out of excitement and nervousness.

though for some reason before you even get to the door it’s flying open and wade is tumbling out with logan right after him, but instead he stands in the doorway, as wade ALMOST throws himself on top of you.

you moved out of the way just in time.

“Wade Wilson! Jump on me, and mess my hair up if you want to.. you WILL be put on a sex ban.” you glared at him, walking over him and turning to Logan.

“A sex ban is overdoing it! you know you can’t resist this beauty, peanut!” wade about whined from his place on the floor, which went ignored.

standing in front of logan, he eyed you up from head to toe. examining your hair with careful consideration. he brings two fingers up and motions in a circle, gesturing for you to give him a 360 so he can also see the back.

and you do so, turning and lifting the hair up to show how silky and bouncy the ends of your hair are.

after you turn back face to face with him, you can see a hint of a smile on his lips. “do you like it, Lo?”

“oh he LOVES it, sweet cheeks. look at the tent in his pants!” wade chipped in from the sidelines.

listening to wade, you casted a glance down to logan’s sweats and sure enough there was a small tent forming.

you smirked at him as you looked back up. he growled at wade before slightly blushing and walking back inside the apartment.

“peanut that hairstyle is going to be in my dreams for centuries now. it’s taking all the two hundred and six, now two hundred and seven bones in my body to not jump you in this hallway.” wade chirps as he presses a kiss to the skin behind your ear.

you giggle at his words and antics, walking into the apartment to find logan and to finally relax with your boyfriends as they admire your hair.

“maybe when I wrap my hair up later you two can.. but don’t go crazy because if i sweat this out i’ll kill you.” you pointed at both him and logan in warning then thought, “or at least kill you over and over until i get tired.”

logan chuckled loudly at thought one, “go ahead and try, bubs.”

let’s just say, they made you sweat your blowout out by blowing that back out. :3

notes: thank you for reading, i hope you enjoyed <33

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Charlie: “-so we have TONS of angel-killing weapons now, thanks to Vaggie! Who had a lovely… Errrr. Fight?”

Vaggie: “It was pretty one sided. Call it a training match.”

Charlie: “She had a lovely training match with Carmilla Carmine! Who repeatedly kneed and kicked her in the face, which I’m not allowed to get upset about, because Vaggie isn’t upset about it!”

Sir Pentious: “Oh that sssounds… Pleasssant?”

Angel Dust: “Of course the one time Saint Sapphic isn’t pissed is when someone actually beats the crap outta her.”

Husk: “Wha’d I say? She’s got issues.”

Niffty: “Kneed in the face by Carmilla Carmine!?” (wistful sigh) “Lucky…”

Husk: “And you’ve got even worse issues, somehow.”

Vaggie: “Meanwhile, Charlie was off singing herself up a whole army in Cannibal Town.”

Charlie: “I wouldn’t call them a whole army-”

Vaggie: “They barely fit inside the hotel, babe.”

Charlie: “-and I wouldn’t really call it mine. Alastor and Rosie helped!”

Vaggie: “Did they give you the cannibal army?”

Charlie: “Nnnnoooo… I mean they did introduce me, but I had to do the convincing part myself.”

Vaggie: “Then it’s your army.”

Charlie: “Huh.”

Charlie: “…..hm.”

Vaggie: “Feels kinda nice, doesn’t it?”

Charlie: (giggling) “Maaaybe a little~”

Angel Dust: “If yous two LBs start kissin’ about the literal man eating army now under ya sway, I’m gonna be sick.”

Vaggie: “Aren’t you supposed to have zero gag reflex?”

Angel Dust: “That’s for sex stuff, Vaggitales. This is sappy and sincere.”

Husk: “A word that’s barely in your fucking vocabulary.”

Charlie: “Now Husk, you know that’s not true-”

Angel Dust: “Oh it’s true baby! But I’d be sucha a gooood little school boy if ya wanted to try teachin’ me, Purrrrfessor~”

Husk: “Can we feed him to the cannibals.”

Charlie: “No!”

Vaggie: “If they get sick before the big fight then we’re all dead.”

Angel Dust: “Hey!”

Sir Pentious: (SNIFFLING)

Charlie: “Oh oh Pen! Don’t be scared- no one’s feeding anyone to any cannibals!”

Vaggie: “Well. We’re not feeding anyone from the hotel to them…”

Charlie: “You hush, beautiful. Now there there Pentious, what wrong?”

Sir Pentious: “Nothing issss now! But EVERYTHING wasss, while you and missss Vaggie were fighting!”

Vaggie: “We weren’t-”

Charlie: “That was just me being-”

Vaggie & Charlie: “...”

Vaggie: “Sorry, you go-”

Charlie: “No no after you!”

Vaggie & Charlie: “..…..”

Hotel Crew: “….”

Vaggie: “Charlie had good reasons for being angry-”

Charlie: “I wasn’t angry! Or, not the way I THOUGHT I was? It’s complicated-”

Vaggie: “Valid. Reasonable. Way more forgiving than called for.”

Charlie: “If I’d just TALKED with you like you’d WANTED-”

Vaggie: “You didn’t want to. That’s fair.”

Charlie: “I guess, but. It wasn’t fun.”

Sir Pentious: “No it wasss not!” (crying) “It sssseemed as though you were ssssplitting up! L-leaving ussss! It wasss! DREADFUL!!”

Charlie: “Ohhhhh nooooo we would never-!”

Vaggie: “The hotel thing is kinda bigger than one relationship, Pentious. We’re not giving up on you guys.”

Charlie: “-and that’s also why we’d never break up.”

Vaggie: “Never’s a long time sweetie… and three years was a long time too.”

Charlie: “Not with you it wasn’t. And forever won’t be either.”

Vaggie: “…”

Angel Dust: “If you cry, I really will throw up.”

Vaggie: “Shut up.”

Charlie: (hugs vaggie) “See, Pen? You don’t have to worry about us, okay?”

Sir Pentious: “Okay. Y-essss.”

Charlie: “Shh sshh, please don’t cry…”

Sir Pentious: (wailing) “I can’t help it!!!”

Vaggie: “Hey, how come HIS tears aren’t vomit worthy but MINE are??”

Angel Dust: “Cuz he’s a sad snake boy in a top hat that cuddles with eggs, and you’re supposed to be tough as nails and impossible to fucking break, Vagina. Seein’ ya as being anything other than gay or pissed? Stomach turning. Yuck” 

Husk: “You’ve got issues too, dumbass.”

Angel Dust: “I know.” (preens) “But they look GOOD on me~”

Sir Pentious: (snuffles) “It’sss jussst so good, sssssseeing you two the way you sssshould be! Ugh.” (dripping) “May I borrow a, a tisssssue, Niffty?”

Niffty: “SURE-”

Husk: “You don’t fucking want that or to know where the fuck it’s been. Here. Napkin.”

Sir Pentious: “Thankssss!”

Sir Pentious:  (LOUD NOSE BLOWING HONK)

Charlie: “Better?”

Sir Pentious: “Much, yessss. But how did you manage it?”

Charlie: “Manage what?”

Sir Pentious: “Fixssssing thingsss between you! After it wasss so bad!”

Husk: “Without any alcohol, even.”

Sir Pentious: "Or exssssplossions!"

Angel Dust: “Yeah toots, three years of not sayin’ she was an angel is a pretty big shit pile to have dropped on ya, even in hell.”

Niffty: “YEAH VAGGIE! HOW MANY SOULS HAVE YOU KILLED?!”

Vaggie: “Thousands.”

Husk: “FUCK.”

Niffty: “OoooOOoohhhhh~”

Angel Dust: “Now that’s a body count. Like, not a good one but. Wow.”

Sir Pentious: “Sssee? And now Charlie isss hugging you! How iss that possssible?”

Vaggie: “… I don’t… I, gave her space….”

Charlie: “She’s Vaggie. I already knew who she was.”

Husk: “Exorcist.”

Angel Dust: “Liar?”

Niffty: “Mass MURDERER heheheh…”

Charlie: “My partner.”

Sir Pentious: “I don’t underssstand! Did ssshe sssay ssssorry?”

Vaggie: “Sorry really wouldn’t cut it.”

Charlie: (laughing) “She helped me start the hotel- and run it- and get my dad’s help talking to heaven, and- more things than I can count, honestly! Doesn’t that say enough?”

Sir Pentious: “Oh… ssso wordsss are not… what mattersss?”

Charlie: “They can matter, but it’s what we DO that makes them mean anything.”   

Sir Pentious: "...what we... do?"

Angel Dust: “Like how heaven and it’s angels say it’s all full of great people up there but then they go an' leave us all to rot and die, yeah?”

Charlie: “Vaggie didn’t."

Angel Dust: "Score! Hell's got ONE angry lesbian on it's side!"

Charlie: "And I won’t either.”

Hotel Crew: “…”

Husk: “Are we done. I need a drink.”

Vaggie: “Y-eah.” (hoarse) (clears throat) “That’s where we’re at now. Any questions?”

Angel Dust: (raises hands) “Husk has one!”

Husk: “Fuck you no I don’t-”

Angel Dust: “Sure ya do babypaws. What the FUCK-”

Angel Dust: (points at Vaggie’s wings)

Angel Dust: “-are THOOOOOOSE???”

Vaggie: “…Those are my wings. Asshole.”

Angel Dust: “Bitch~”

Husk: “Motherfucking dumbasses.”

Charlie: “Angel please, it’s rude to point like that! And to um. Say the other part also- but that’s okay I know you mean it in a nice way!”

Angel Dust: “An’ what about Saint Vagatha huh? She called me shit too! Was that her bein’ nice?”

Charlie: “She-”

Vaggie: “I’m nicely not stabbing you.”

Charlie: “-she’s trying her best.”

Angel Dust: “By not stabbing me?”

Husk: “Now that’s impressive as hell.”

Vaggie: “Thanks.”

Angel Dust: “Hmph. Lucky a guy can take pride in people wantin' to stick stuff in him...”

Sir Pentious: “Vaggie? Pleasse pardon the quesstion, however I ssssseem to recall you sssaying you didn’t HAVE any, ah, wingssss?”

Niffty: “Or tits!”

Vaggie: “They grew back.”

Niffty: “Did your t-”

Vaggie: “Niffty-” (groans) “Look, there’s a cockroach over there. Go hunt, kill- whatever.”

Niffty: "KILL KILL KILL-!"

Charlie: “Aren’t her wings AMAZING! LOOK AT THEM!!! You guys have no idea how soft-! wait they what? Grew back?”

Angel Dust: (grinning) “What about your-”

Vaggie: “Ask about my tits twice in one day and die.”

Charlie: “They were gone? You weren’t just hiding them- Twice?”

Niffty: (on vaggie’s shoulder) (checking down her shirt) “Nope! Tits still missing. Nice pecs though!”

Vaggie: “………”

Angel Dust: “She said it, not me!!”

Vaggie: (SIGH) “These are the people I’m about to risk my life for.”

Charlie: “I feel like I’ve missed something important..?”

Husk: “No you fucking haven’t.”

Angel Dust: “So oh heavenly cunt, what the fuck did ya do with Carmine to get the feather dusters reinstated?”

Vaggie: “No idea. Uh- Thought gay thoughts about Charlie? I guess?”

Charlie: “Awww~!”

Sir Pentious: “Aww!!”

Vaggie: “And mostly non-violent thoughts about the rest of you.”

Niffty: “Booo…”

Vaggie: “Anyway, since Lute didn’t use heavenly steel while tearing them off my back, I guess they just needed time to heal up or whatever.”

Charlie: “I’m SO gonna send a thank-you note to Carmilla for helping you with… tha….”

Charlie: “….tEARING? She, Lute-”

Vaggie: “Not now. Tell you later, babe.”

Charlie: “BUt- I’ve met her TWICE and you didn’t say-!”                   

Vaggie: “Let’s focus on finishing debriefing the troo- the friends for now. ‘kay?”

Charlie: “I…”

Angel Dust: “I TOLD YA IDIOTS IT MIGHT BE A SENSITIVE FUCKING TOPIC!”

Husk: “Then why the fuck did you bring it up!?”

Angel Dust: “My mouth likes to be open and stupid shit comes out of it sometimes- I dunno!”

Vaggie: “Yeah well I’m so not about to start spilling the gory details in the hotel lobby. The cannibals are already starting to look hungry. If we’re up to date on the mission statement and current crew resource management situation, then-”

Niffty: “Hey Vaggie, Vaggieee.”

Vaggie: “What.”

Niffty: (giggles) “Did Lute steal your tits too?”

Vaggie: “….”

Angel Dust: “…what? Don’t glare at ME about ya blindly obvious shortfall in that depar-Tit-ment-”

Husk: “Shut up before she fucking tests some of her new shiny weapons on you.”

Vaggie: “Don’t give me ideas.”

Charlie: “Why is everyone talking about my girlfriend’s breasts. She got her wings ripped off and suddenly has them back, and we’re all just, talking about bra size???”

Angel Dust: “Toots, if she wears bras, it’s gotta be just so’s she looks good for you.”

Vaggie: “I’ll take that compliment.”

Angel Dust: “I wasn’t sayin’ it as one-”

Vaggie: “Change your mind or lose your hair.”

Angel Dust: “-you’re a very loving lesbian and ya make Sappho the OG herself proud.”

Vaggie: “Better.”

Sir Pentious: “E-excusssse me!? Thisss, sssssadistic Lute person iss, ssssssomeone we will be fighting against..?”

Vaggie: “Yeah but I’ll handle her, don’t worry.”

Charlie: “wHAT!?”

Vaggie: “I said, I’m the one who knows how she fights anyway, so I’ll-”

Charlie: “YOU. WILL. NOT-”

Demon Charlie: “-NIFFTY DON’T YOU DARE STUFF THAT DEAD COCKROACH DOWN MY GIRLFRIEND’S SHIRT!!!”

Vaggie: “AUGH?!”

Niffty: “Aww.”

Angel Dust: “Oh that’s nasty.”

Husk: "Hreaugh." (hairball noise) “Whatever’s wrong with you, Niffty, never EVER fucking tell me what it is.”

Niffty: (waving cockroach) “It’s just for padding~ You know what they say! Every little bit helps! Right?”

Charlie & Vaggie: “NO!”

Niffty: (CACKLING)

Sir Pentious: “…..thisss isss, sssssso beautiful….”

Husk: “The fucking cockroach?”

Sir Pentious: “No. Them.” (wipes tear) “They’re ssstill, hugging.”

Angel Dust: “Yeah... It’s almost sweet enough to make a guy puke.”

Husk: “Almost?”

Angel Dust: “Well I’m not gonna ruin the mood for them by actually puking!”

Husk: (smiles) “Uh-huh.”

Angel Dust: “Plus, think of my boots! What if they got splashed on and shit?”

Husk: “Right.”

Angel Dust: “And Niffty’s doin’ good work breakin’ the tension and grossin’ them out anyway…”

Husk: “Mm-hmm.”

Angel Dust: “….And. It’s nice to see ‘em bein’ cute again.”

Husk: “…..”

Angel Dust: “….because it was weird when they weren’t and maybe, MAYBE, I was worried.”

Husk: “There we fucking go. Good boy.”

Angel Dust: “!!!”

Sir Pentious: “Oh that sseems to have cheered him up immenssely..”

Husk: "Fuck."

Angel Dust: “Oooh~ Nauseous to horny in less than a second? Damn, Purrrfessor. That’s a new record even for me~”

Husk: “Fuck no.” (fleeing)

Husk: “Alright, I’m opening the fucking bar! Come get your complimentary we might all be dying together soon drinks- and nobody fucking DARE ask me to use body parts in them. This isn’t fucking Cannibal Town. My drinks are good enough without fingers or eyeballs floating in them or whatever.”

Cannibal crowd: (grumbles but politely ques up for drinks)

Charlie: “I think maybe we’ll pass? Vaggie? Our room, us, alone, maybe?”

Vaggie: “Are we gonna talk about stuff?”

Charlie: “I would VERY MUCH like to talk about all things now yes please.”

Vaggie: “Then I’m gonna need a drink. Husk-”

Husk: “Take the fucking bottle.”

Angel Dust: “Here, and this bottle too!”

Charlie: “Oh thank you Angel D- is this LUBE!? Already OPENED lube!??!?”

Angel Dust: “Happy make-up sex~”

Charlie: “I- Vaggie no, not the spear- thanks, Angel Dust, but I think- Vaggie I said not the spear- I think we can do without borrowing your, uh, personal bottle of- okay that’s it, up over the shoulder you go. Hup!”

Vaggie: “I’m gonna kill him! I’m gonna save him from the extermination by killing him RIGHT NOW!”

Charlie: “-and you told me to ignore you when you talk like that. Anyway, everyone else have good night with the drinks and cannibals!”

Angel Dust: "Will do, toots! You gays enjoy eatin' each other out!"

Vaggie: “Babe please just let me strangle him a little bit-”

Charlie: “Nope! We’re gonna go explore some past trauma!”

Angel Dust: “An’ each other’s bodies!!!”

Charlie: (carrying vaggie upstairs) “Not helping!”

Vaggie: (still struggling) “I don't NEED to talk about my trauma- i need to get my hands on that asshole twink!"

Angel Dust: "GET IN LINE BEHIND HALF OF HELL, VAG-GAY!"

Charlie: "Hold my hand instead?"

Vaggie: "...."

Vaggie: (melting) (holds hand) "...fiiiiine."

[writer-in-theory]

A Cat Named Eddie — part three.

part one part two part three

--

"I know, I know, Eds," Steve coos the moment the door shuts, pressing a kiss to the top of the cat's head and stepping further into the house. "So much yelling, 'm sorry for scaring you."

"Did you scare my sweet prince? How dare you!" Robin calls from the living room, spun around on the couch to glare at him. Steve rolls his eyes, handing off the cat who immediately curls up in her lap. Traitor.

"No, his namesake did." Steve places his hands on the back of the couch, leaping over it like he might a hurdle to land beside Robin. Both her and Eddie give him the same look: annoyance, irritation, disbelief that he had the gall to disturb them. "Showed up yelling about how he deserves an apology."

"Seriously?" Robin asks, hand stopping her petting of Eddie until the cat nips as a signal to continue. "Bastard," she hisses, looking down at the creature, "you and your namesake."

"Don't call my cat a bastard," Steve says, nudging Robin's elbow with his foot as he extends his legs and leans back against the armrest of the couch.

"Seriously, though. Eddie just showed up and demanded an apology?"

"Yep," Steve pops the 'p' and crosses his arms over his chest.

"That doesn't sound like Eddie," Robin says, raising an eyebrow in his direction. "Is this another moment where I find out how dramatic you are?"

"No," Steve nearly shouts, rolling his eyes at little Eddie's huff of annoyance at his volume. "I'm not dramatic. That's exactly how it happened."

"Steven-"

"My name isn't short for Steven, I've told you-"

"-there is no way it happened like that." Steve wanted to smack her. He also wanted to hug her. Best friends were really confusing sometimes.

"It basically happened like that," Steve corrects himself, leaning forward to pry Eddie off of Robins lap. The cat lasts for a few seconds on his lap before he slides off, curling up between Steve's hip and arm. "He accused me of making fun of him, which was completely off base, then he stands there and demands an apology from me like I'd done something wrong. And get this, Robs, he was looking at me like he did in school, which, fine but it hurts, you know? Then he sees little Eddie and he completely freaks out, acts like I never to—Oh, shit, Robin."

"What?"

"I messed up," Steve breathes, the hand not petting the cat moving to swipe through his hair. "I think I forgot to tell Eddie about Eddie."

He meant to, he really did. But from the first moment the name slipped from his mouth Steve knew it was something big. People didn't just name their pets after people for no reason, not even if they were merely friends. No this was important, and the more Steve thought about confessing to Eddie the more his head swam and his heart raced so hard he thought it might pop free from his chest. So sure, maybe he'd chosen to stop thinking about it.

"Steve! What do you mean?" Robin exclaims, sitting up to show how immersed in the conversation she was.

"Eddie and Eddie Hair-rington haven't met...technically," Steve says, rubbing the back of his neck and wincing against the response he knew he'd get from his friend.

"So you've been talking about little Eddie around big Eddie with literally zero context? Dingus!"

"I didn't mean to!"

"How many times has Eddie thought you called him a fucker? Or a bastard? Or a-"

"I get it!" Steve groans, "Still. I've heard the kids call him so much worse, and he didn't..." He didn't what? Didn't lay into their entire personalities? Their interests? Their whole fucking worth? Reduce all of it down to bullshit, bullshit, bullshit?

"You know what my biggest pet peeve is, Stevie?" Robin asks, voice oddly carrying a light lilt despite the heaviness sinking in Steve's chest.

"People stealing your mouthpiece?"

"Ew, no—but yes," Robin shudders. "No, it's when stupid, darling, stupid men don't get their shit together and kiss."

Best friends were terrible and Steve didn't like them, actually. It wasn't that he'd never thought about kissing Eddie—on the contrary, as time went on it became nearly impossible to have an interaction with the man without the thought crossing his mind—but rather that it was so damn obvious to Robin that he wanted to.

"I don't want to kiss Eddie," Steve tries, "I'm mad at him."

"No, dingus, you're heartbroken." She says it simply, like the thought should have occurred to him ages ago. It probably should have, of course, but there's no way Steve would ever tell her that. "And it sounds like he is too. So maybe try...oh I don't know...talking?"

"That's a terrible idea. Plan B."

"Steve," Robin admonishes, and it reminds him too much of when his middle school teacher used to talk to him in that voice, the kind that says she knows he knows what he did wrong. He does.

"Fine, fine! Next time Eddie shows up at Family Video I'll talk to him." Steve smirks, knowing he's already won. Eddie hadn't been in since the day he said such horrible things to Steve, when he left Steve breathless and fighting back shocked tears over realizing how Eddie really thought of him.

"Deal."

--

Steve Harrington should know never to doubt Robin Buckley.

The second Eddie walks through the double doors of Family Video, Steve's head hits the counter. He tucks it into his folded arms, hoping that might help him disappear. Maybe Eddie miraculously lost his idea of object permanence in the past twenty-four hours?

Eddie hits the little bell to signal he needs help. Robin loudly announces that she's going on break despite it being only nine in the morning and a mere hour into their shift. Steve feels like he might lurch over the side of a cliff.

"I don't have a lawn mower," Eddie says, and Steve still doesn't pick his head up from the counter. "I don't have anything to give you that would make up for this."

"I don't need anything from you," Steve says automatically, lifting his head to reveal a gentle smile on Eddie's face, the man's dark eyes shimmering in spite of the shitty fluorescent lights of the shop. "Everything's fine, Eddie."

"It's not," Eddie corrects, but not in the harsh way he'd thrown the words the previous night. He says it in the way he would remind him that Steve's character is a paladin, or that Ozzy was in Black Sabbath not Dio. It was the voice Eddie used when he pointed out the obvious in the kindest, most gentle way anyone could so as to spare Steve the embarrassment.

"It is," Steve insists, "and you know, it's kinda busy in here so—"

"Attention faithful Family Video patrons!" Eddie shouts, climbing up onto the counter and spreading his arms like he had thousands of people watching him instead of the ten or fifteen occupying the building.

"Eddie, c'mon, man, what are you doing?" Steve sighs, cheeks heating up red at all of the eyes staring at the two of them.

"I, Eddie Munson, officially admit that I was wrong. Not all jocks are airheaded and lame," Eddie continues, grinning and winking at one of the women giving him a nasty look. All Steve could do was drop his head into one hand, peering up at the man between his fingers. "Steve Harrington in all his brilliant heroism has shattered the Munson Doctrine forever. That is all, carry on!"

"You really didn't have to do that," Steve says immediately once Eddie hops off the counter into the employee side. "Really."

"Like I said, this was the best I had without a lawn mower."

"You're terrible," Steve responds, though a little smile works its way past the blush on his cheeks.

"I also want to apologize just..." Eddie pauses to glance around the store before looking back at Steve's eyes, then briefly dropping down to look at his lips. Fuck. "Somewhere with less people."

Right, they were still in public. "Right, um...I'm off at 4? Come by the house?"

"I'll be there, Stevie," Eddie promises, stumbling far-less-gracefully back over the counter. Steve laughs, because something about Eddie's persistent earnestness makes it impossible to truly stay mad at him forever.

--

"Okay, listen up, buddy," Steve says seriously once he hears a knock on the door, lifting up Eddie Hair-rington's front paws so he could look him in the eyes. "We've got a new friend coming over, okay? Listen to me really closely. No biting, no scratching, no being a giant chaos monster that feeds off the pain of humans, got it?"

Eddie blinks.

"Glad we understand each other." Steve sets Eddie down, straightening up his own hair before opening the door. "You actually came."

"You thought I wouldn't?" Eddie asks, bouncing on his feet until Steve moves out of the way so he could step into the house.

"I dunno," Steve admits, shrugging once. "You seemed pretty upset before."

"Yeah, I..." Eddie trails off, looking up at the ceiling briefly before refocusing on Steve. "I don't know how to say any of it but-"

"I know I messed up. I should've told you about little Eddie, and I didn't," Steve blurts out, trying to save Eddie at least a bit of explaining. "I should've told you."

"I could've asked," Eddie returns, and yeah he could've. It would've saved a lot of strife, a lot of fucking chest pain and swiped away tears if he would have just—

"Yeah, you should've," Steve admits quietly.

Eddie steps closer, brown eyes nothing but earnest as he speaks. "I didn't mean any of it. Shit, Steve, I don't know why I said half of what I did, I just thought it'd be better to hurt you before you hurt me worse."

"I wouldn't 've," Steve says, trying to ignore the persistent scratching and tugging he feels on his left pant leg. This was too serious a moment, Eddie's eyes were too soft and too vulnerable, and Steve didn't want it all too end before—

"Is that the hero of the hour?" Eddie beams, bending down to grab at little Eddie before Steve can warn him. Eddie, no, the little shit bites everyone, it takes weeks to get him to warm up to you and even then—

"He is such a little asshole," Steve hisses, watching as little Eddie immediately snuggles against Eddie's chest, purring delightedly. Steve points to the cat, who's now looking at him with way too much attitude for such a tiny body. "You're a traitor. Remember who gives you tuna, you tiny gremlin."

"I don't know, Stevie, he seems like an innocent sweetheart to me," Eddie teases, eyes on the cat as he pets little Eddie's ears. "Just like his namesake."

"Uh huh," Steve says in monotone. "I get why you like each other."

"That so?"

"Yeah, you both like torturing me."

"I don't know about that, Steve," Eddie says, stepping closer. His hand stills on little Eddie, moving instead to adjust a piece of stray hair out of Steve's face.

The touch burns in the way it nearly makes Steve gasp, the way it makes him feel like he'd never been alive at all before this moment. He wonders if it was supposed to be like that, or if sometimes he just felt too much too brightly.

"I know I'm giving you a lot of mixed signals, but I really do like you, Steve," Eddie practically whispers.

"You have a lot of making up to do," Steve breathes, chest fluttering at how close Eddie was to him.

"That right?"

"Uh huh," Steve says. "Lots of groveling, cheesy speeches like the stunt you pulled at Video, and definitely bribing little Eddie."

Eddie laughs, a deep sound that rumbles straight through Steve. “I can do that. Little Eds deserves some pampering.”

They would have to talk about it further, the hurt and the missteps and all the ways this could have been avoided. But for now, Steve allows himself to relish in the feeling of Eddie's lips on his.

That is, until a persistent meow causes them to pull apart.

--

Thank you so much for reading everyone! I wouldn't be opposed to writing a lil blurb here and there of Steve, Eddie, and Eddie, so let me know if that's something anyone would want. I'm also going to clean this up a little and put it on Ao3 eventually!

It wouldn't let me tag everyone at once so I'll reblog this with the rest of the people who asked to be tagged in just a minute!

TAGLIST: @estrellami-1 @sjullay @swimmingbirdrunningrock @background-noise-headache @wowimwhatibingewatch @obsessive-anddepressive @krazyperson @nonsense-of-dimitri @whimsicalwitchm @zerokrox-blog @electrick-marionnett @the-redthread @juststeddiebrainrot @dollalicia @vi-an-te @lioniheart @unclewaynemunson @stevesbipanic @ajamlessbaby @qomrades @ivydragon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @apricottree @gleek4twd @messrs-weasley @makewavesandwar @renaissan-vvitch @artiststarme @suikatto @proudbaconatornyoom @ilikechocolatemilkh @0o-queendean-o0 @dangdirtydemons @v3lnys @mybradforddream @giveemhales @gaydrieeen @runtyghost @luthienstormblessed @goggles-mcgee @odetolimerence @paintsplatteredandimperfect @readbythestarlight @slit-wrist @imzadidragonfly

[ippipo]

sukuna ryomen x reader - mafia au? idk but here's sum

Sukuna is the type to buy you expensive presents literally every week. He was a spend-thrift and it was batshit crazy how careless he was with money when it came to you. So you decided to take the matter into your own hands.

You told Sukuna that you'll tear every single clothing he buys you if he doesn't listen to you, to which he casually shrugged and said, "I could just buy you more." After many blackmailing attempts (who are you kidding? this man gets death threats and is attacked at least once every month), you decided to use your ace card.

You didn't talk to him for an entire day. It was pretty childish considering the fact that he was buying stuff only for you, but you recently heard that one of the three powerful mafia groups had gone bankrupt rendering them useless. It scared you because Sukuna's money saving ability was shit despite being the richest mafia ever.

After a few painful hours of knocking on your door, Sukuna was angry and punched a hole into the hard wood. Of course it didn't work, his knuckles started to hurt. That didn't matter to him though, he just wanted to know why you were ignoring him.

"Y/N.." he called out weakly, his voice bleeding with sadness. He had a bad day and he just wanted to be around you. Hearing his pitiful voice, your heart clenched. C'mon, it's not everyday you have one of the strongest people weak on their knees, begging. Seems like you were just as sadistic as the greatest mafia don himself.

You slowly unlocked the door and peered into his eyes, your eyes bearing rigidity that made his cock hard. You grabbed his hand and brought him to your shared bed, pushing him onto it and falling on him, earning a grunt.

You softly dragged your fingers on his palm, sometimes writing his name, sometimes writing your name. He pushed you off to the side gently and got up to undress himself down to just his boxers. He got on to the bed and grabbed you aggressively by your shoulder, pulling you back on top of him, your rightful position.

You bit his shoulder playfully as a payback for manhandling you to which he replied with a kiss on your forehead. "Say, why do you want me to stop buying you things so bad?" He questioned, his voice booming in the quietness of your room.

"Do you want me to tell you the truth?" You asked. "You are to answer my question, not question me back." He flicked your forehead, earning an 'ouch'. "You won't leave me after this?" You asked, ignoring his statement earlier. He looked at you with a deadpan expression.

"Darling, you fucking dumb bitch, I saw you mixing egg yolks with strawberry jam to make a volcano and I'm still with you." He stated. You muttered 'reasonable' before clearing your throat, preparing yourself for something you thought would embarrass you.

"Okay. So, um-" "Get to the point." He said impatiently. "Fine. The clothes you're getting me are the wrong size, they're smaller and I think I grew bigger than last time. I feel weird about myself because they used to fit me but now they're a little tight and uncomfortable and I feel insecure." You said without a break.

"W-" "And I heard some maids saying that three of your enemy gangs went bankrupt and I'm scared you'll waste all your money on things that I won't even use." You added. "First off, how dare you interrupt me." He said and paused.

"Secondly, what do you mean you feel insecure? If anything, I'm the one who was supposed to buy you clothes that fit you, not the ones smaller, it's my fault. And darling, you're a fucking goddess, I don't care if you got bigger, you look just fine to me." He pulled both your cheeks with his fingers and slapped them softly.

"Stop doing tha-" "I didn't marry you for something as stupid as looks, I married you because you're my weird cumslut who can't go a day without dick, plus, you're my wife, no way am I letting something so absurd bother you." He said with a smirk. You slapped his bare chest because of his choice of words, blushing profusely.

"Thirdly, who do you think made them go bankrupt?" You remained silent at that, assured and relieved. "So...you still like me?" You asked. He smacked your cheek and choked you, gently may I add. "Stop asking me stupid questions." He grumbled.

You giggled when his thumb ghosts over your neck, tickling you while his hand was around it. You take his hand that was around your neck and press kisses on his knuckles. He brought his hand to his lips and kissed the spots you kissed, a happy glint in his eye, as if you both actually kissed.

Sukuna doesn't look like it, but he is just happy if you were near him. Your presence is more than enough, a blessing, in fact. To him, you're not a prize, you're a gift, you're a prank gone right, you're his world. Aggressively, he loved you, he cherished you and he will keep on doing it till his last breath.

"I'm still offended you slapped me." You said, turning away when he tried to kiss you. He grabbed your chin and forcefully made you look towards him, to which you didn't object. He gently kissed your lips, capturing your heart and soul within a span of seconds.

A wordless assurance. He needed that to make sure he didn't actually hurt you, because he meant to slap softly, playfully, with pure love, not the kind of slap he was more acquainted with, thanks to his parents (who were dead by the way).

"It's just that..." You began, grabbing his attention though it was already on you. "I don't like the way I look?" It was more of a question than a confession, you were unsure of yourself. There were times you liked the way you looked, there were times you absolutely despised yourself.

It was complicated, your relationship with your body. When you thought you looked good, you didn't. When you thought you didn't look good, you didn't.

It was tough, especially when you're dating someone conventionally attractive. It makes you feel unworthy. That maybe someday he would find someone else. Maybe someone who looks prettier, has both, beauty and brawns.

Even though he treats you like a princess, showering you with his passionate fancy love, you still felt that he could do better. Choose someone better. That thought makes you feel like someone had cut your head and poured vomit inside you, bleaching your organs with vomit, an unshakeable feeling.

You didn't need to say a word though. Sukuna knew what you were thinking. Every thought, every whisper and every breath of yours was familiar to him. It was surprising how well he knew you. Perfect hands wrapped around a perfect waist, your waist. He didn't care how big it was.

He kissed you, aggressively. That's what you called your relationship, aggressive love, which was quite contrary to how he treated you because there was always a hidden gentleness under his aggressiveness. He knew where to draw the line though.

"I don't know why you don't want to believe me, so I might just have to fuck it into you." It was funny how he said it in a very serious tone, he was being serious. "Ryo, I was at a stupid party before coming home and my legs are dead from standing so much." You whined.

"Who says you have to work now? Let me handle your body." He whispered, licking a stripe on the back of your ear. A shiver of pleasure ran down your body, right to your cunt. Oh boy did you know what a night it was going to be.

[spacebarbarianweird]

Hey! This is a little silly but I have a request. One of my mutuals had her birthday a few days ago, but I had no time to prepare anything for her (the little shit literally told me just YESTERDAY, yeah, still mad at that one). Since your work is amazing, may I request a oneshot/headcanons (whichever you want) based on her post? (https://www.tumblr.com/lumar014ad/736193443690430464/imagine-that-youre-a-druidwizardwarlock-with-a)

Sorry if it's too personal, I just want to do something nice for her and this is the only thing I can think of. Thanks for hearing me out anyways :)

Hi! Thank you for your request! I usually do requests in the order I get them but since it's a special occasion I be like (quote) "How could I say no?"

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion x Tav!Cat Owner

As long as you can remember, you've loved cats.

Some may say, they are lazy assholes no one would want to have, but you disagree.

Cats are independent. They require unconditional love. If a cat loves you, it means a lot.

Unfortunately, the life of an adventurer isn't good for cat. A dog? Maybe, but cats need a stable home.

But cats choose their owners, not the other way around.

A tiny kitten, only three weeks old, yells desperately in the sewers. The second the findling is put on the ground, he climbs you and purrs.

"Well, I suppose, now you are mine."

Black and fluffy, but fierce. You call the little guy "Wyvern". Wyv, for short.

But the moment you put Wyv inside your travel jacket, you are kidnapped by the Mindflayers.

Shocked and scared, you make sure they don't notice the kitten, hiding him under your shirt.

You search your way to freedom. The kitten stays quiet all the time.

But hissing violently when he senses the danger ahead.

He somehow survives the fall with you but he looks at you with this face "wtf, I just wanted to be safe."

But Wyv, surprisingly, likes living on the road with you. He sits in your jacket or on your shoulder causing loud "awwwws" from strangers.

"This is Wyvern! I found him in the sewers!"

"Did you toss a coin to choose this name for a cat?" Astarion isn't impressed but even he admits the cat has a temper of a dragon.

As for Astarion, he loves cats. But animals fear the Undead. Especially cats since they can smell the reek of death.

But to his own surprise, Wyvern doesn't mind Astarion's company.

More than that, he constantly tries to sit on the vampire's shoulder or just yells until Astarion takes him in his cold hands.

"Please, Tav, take your animal back. He screams like a drunk goblin"

"Because he is hungry", you shrug. "Oh come on! Do me a favor - I feed you every night, you can manage to feed my cat!"

For some unknown reason, Wyv wants Astarion's attention - and even sleeps in his tent.

One evening, you notice Astarion meditating while the cat is purring loudly on his chest. Astarion's face is peaceful and you know this night won't bring him nightmares.

You see it as a sign. You were hesitant to suggest sharing the tent together but since Wyvern has already moved there why not follow his example?

And you can't stop thinking about that Astarion and Wyvern have very much in common.

[beanghostprincess]

Just thinking about ASL living together (modern AU) and Ace always trying to sneak Yamato inside their house without Sabo's knowledge because he doesn't want him to go all 'responsible older brother' on him. But the reason why he's always letting Yamato stay over is because his life at home is obviously... Not so good and he hates being there so he tries to spend most of his time outside. And Ace's heart aches every time he has to let him go, so he often lets him stay over. It becomes more constant and less of a 'sneaking in for a while' thing. And Sabo knows. Because of course, Sabo knows. Sabo always knows what's going on. One day he wakes up to see Yamato having breakfast and Yamato gets all anxious and not knowing what to say and trying to make an excuse (because that's what Ace told him to do if this ever happened) and Sabo is just like "Do you want anything else?" / "Huh? What?" / "I mean. You're eating cereal but we have more stuff in here, you know? At least one of us can cook. What do you want? I can make you pancakes." / "YOU KNOW HOW TO MAKE PANCAKES???????" / "Oh my god, what has my brother been feeding you in here???" / "Mostly leftovers." / "Dude, why are you still with him?" / "Because I love him!" / "Yeah, no, me too. I guess love makes you do stupid things like dealing with a fucking moron like him. Anyway- Pancakes?"

And then Ace wakes up to find his brother and his boyfriend actually getting along and laughing and having breakfast together, and he needs a second to process everything because he's tired as fuck and maybe he's hallucinating. But that doesn't matter because the point is that he's fucked.

Ace: ..... Hi? Sabo: Hey :) Ace: What are you two doing? Yamato: WE'RE HAVING BREAKFAST :D Ace: Yes, babe, I can see that. Why are you here, Sabo? I thought you were- Sabo: I got home last night from college. We have some days off. Now, care to explain why you've been treating your cool boyfriend like a dog instead of giving him actual meals? Ace: I- You're not angry? Sabo: Oh, no. I am angry. Can't you see I'm angry? Ace: Sometimes you give me mixed signals and I'm never sure...? Sabo: I'm angry. That clear enough? Ace: Yes. Yamato: Okay, so Sabo is the only person that scares you. That's good to know. Ace: OH SHUT UP HE DOESN'T SCARE ME I AM NOT AFRAID OF MY BROTHER Sabo: Ace. Ace: ... I'm sorry.

Then, Sabo takes Ace to a more private place in the house and expects an explanation from him and Ace can't keep the secret anymore. So he tells him about Yamato's dad and how he is not a good person and he's always keeping him locked and making his life a living hell. And Ace is literally begging Sabo to let him stay for a while and Sabo is just staring at him like "Why would I not let him? How could I not? Do you see me as some kind of controlling demon around this house or what?" / "I mean, you're kind of scary sometimes-" / "Because you don't do shit around here and when I left for college I expected you to take care of Luffy. But I'm not making Yamato leave! What the fuck, Ace? You should've told me." / "I just- I just don't want him to go back there. He's, like, the nicest guy I've ever known. He's just so good, Sabo. I don't want him to-" / "Yeah. Yeah. He's the love of your life and you're gonna get married and have a fairytale ending or some bullshit like that." / "I did NOT say that." / "But you love him. I'm not letting him stay over if you're not serious about this. We barely have money for us three and we're lucky I can go to college." / "... I know. I know. I do. I do, you know. Like. The L word. You know I can't say it." / "Idiot." / "You're so mean to me. You don't do this shit to Luffy." / "Because at least Luffy has the decency of telling me when his friends are coming over." / "That's what you think." / "What? / "Nothing."

So, long story short, Yamato has the chance to actually live with them for a while if he wants to. Of course, he can't do it permanently. But he knows he has a home there if he ever feels like leaving his own house.

[dark-frosted-heart]

Roger Barel Main Route - Chapter 13 His POV

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. I’m doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there.

(He wanted to eat the person he liked…?)

In this case it wasn’t a euphemism for love, but literally that dead man’s intent.

Roger: —Could it be that…

His cursed sin is…cannibalism?

(I’ve never Cursed One with cannibalistic urges. There’s no past data. But…)

But when you think about everything that happened—It all made sense.

(That guy…was really Cursed)

He didn’t know he was Cursed and didn’t know that his urges were from his cursed fate. He died blaming himself.

(Ah, it happened “again”. I…led another innocent “Cursed One” to their death…”again”.

Roger: “‘Cursed One’s’ tragic fate can’t be altered. In the past, there have been no exceptions.”

That’s so true, it makes me laugh.

Kate: Um, Roger…

???: Hey, hey. A man dressed in all white with a nice smile and parted bangs just told me something.

You were talking about the murder from last night.

(...?)

I turned around and saw a stranger leaning against the counter with a smile.

Kate: And you are…

Nicholas the novelist: Just some insignificant novelist called Nicholas. And these are…

Michael the playwright: Michael, a playwright.

Joanna the caricaturist: Joanna, a caricaturist.

Barkeep: Ah, these three are people of culture who are regulars here. They like to stick their noses in other people’s business.

Nicholas the novelist: We have to! We’re always looking for inspiration for our works.

Man tries to eat a girl with red hair. It’s like the wolf from Little Red Riding Hood.

Joanna the caricaturist: Don’t lump this together with a childish fairytale like Little Red Riding Hood. It’s an insult to a sensational incident.

Michael the playwright: A bloodstained girl and a man standing over her in shock. Aha, I have an idea!

(...Ah, I see…these guys…)

The reason why they came to be known as “Fairytale Curses” is because of novelists, playwrights, and the like who created works based on existing “Cursed Ones”.

But nowadays, the relationship’s been reversed and they’re referred to as “Fairytale Curse”.

My curse is the Double-Crossing Hunter.

Elbert’s the Greedy Queen, Alfons the Mirror.

The reason for these names must have come from Cursed Ones that lived before us.

Tonight, another fairytale would be born from a Cursed One.

(I know people are free to create what they want and no one can fault them for that)

(—However)

Michael the playwright: I hope more tragic incidents happen. That way I can create the best stage performances!

Nicholas the novelist: More material for our works! Haha, just kidding!

Next thing I knew I was slamming my mug down on the table as if to cut their laughter off.

Roger: They didn’t die to be a spectacle for you lot.

Michael the playwright: Ah, erm…

Nicholas the novelist: Um…We didn’t mean to make fun of people’s deaths.

Joanna the caricaturist: That’s right. Just having jokes at a bar.

I heard voices repeatedly try to defend themselves within my distant consciousness.

I was already well aware that the “sinfulness” of “Cursed Ones” couldn’t be understood.

That’s why they’re “curses”.

Roger: —Just kidding.

Michael the playwright: …Huh?

Roger: You were starving for stimulation, so I thought I’d surprise you.

Michael the playwright: …Wha

What the heck! You scared me!

Roger: Ahaha, sorry.

Michael the playwright: That performance was so real. Want to join my troupe?

Nicholas the novelist: You can scout later. Let’s have a drink as thanks for surprising us!

Roger: Yeah, sure.

They’ll never know what we “Cursed Ones” mourn over or what’s fated ends are.

So I just pretended that nothing happened. This “acceptance” was a technique I took up to get by in this world.

—However, there was one person beside me that didn’t agree with this acceptance.

Kate: Roger…

There was a hint of anger in Kate’s voice and disapproval in her eyes. 

(...Kate, you’re too nice. You’re the only one willing to stand with the Cursed)

Kate was a kind person and now held feelings for the Cursed, Crown included.

That’s why there wasn’t a need to feel worried or hurt anymore.

Roger: Hmm?

I downed my beer and ruffled her hair like usual.

Kate: Stop…

Roger: We heard what happened. The investigations’s over so there’s no point in digging any deeper.

Kate: I don’t think that’s how you truly feel.

(—Yeah, you’re right, Kate. It’s not…how I truly feel)

When Kate wasn’t looking, I went outside. The rain poured down relentlessly, but I didn’t care.

Alone, pitch-black despair that I’d been holding back starts creeping up from beneath my feet.

(If we told Lance “you’re a Cursed One” back then, would things have changed?)

I could imagine all the what-ifs I wanted, but the dead never return.

~~

My dear little friend, you will no doubt encounter despair in the future. However, don’t let yourself be defeated.

~~

I remembered the words of a dead friend, words that I’ve repeated over and over.

(...I’ll be fine. I won’t let despair consume me)

(I’m strong, I won’t be defeated, I won’t be lonely, I won’t let my soul rot, and…I’ll fulfill my ambition)

(That’s why I’ll be fine. …I’ll get back up and continue like nothing’s happened)

(I still don’t know if there’s a shadow watching over me)

And that its existence will save me.

[tired-biscuit]

thinking about big biceped and big boobed jock kiba staring at you with hungry eyes, licking over his fanged canines with his tongue. he's hovering above you on the bed on all fours, but his dick is so big you still feel the fat leaking tip brushing against your thigh and trailing his pre-cum along your soft heated skin. he can't wait to devour you. 🩷

18+ MDNI, fem!reader // cw: size kink

divider by @/benkeibear

kiba thinks he’s one lucky son of a bitch when you come back home for winter break and he finally gets the chance to see you.

however, he thinks he’s even luckier the moment the clothes you’re wearing come sliding off.

your eyes are big as you lay in the bed that belongs to your childhood bedroom, completely naked and pinned underneath your boyfriend’s much, much bigger body. the soft glow of the festive fairy lights that decorate the window — and which you’ve excitedly put up only hours after arriving back home for the holidays and unpacking your suitcase — reflects inside them.

as a result, there are sparkles twinkling in your pupils.

kiba thinks they make you look like a dream.

with a voice that’s barely above a gruff drawl, he leans in closer to your ear, all until your naked chests are flushed together. “make sure to stay quiet when i push in, ‘kay? i don’t wanna give your old man a reason to beat my ass.”

the way he speaks, all hushed and borderline breathless from mere grinding and heavy petting that you’ve been indulging in ever since you’ve both excused yourselves from dinner that you were having with your parents and rushed upstairs to your bedroom, makes his yearning for you evident. consequently, it also quickens the speed of your pulse.

your heart feels like it’s hammering behind your teeth because of it as you slowly nod your head yes and meekly utter, “i’ll be quiet. i promise.”

“i mean it, though.” he glances at you, a faint blush warming his cheeks. “your dad scares the crap outta me.”

“i know, ki.” you pause before giggling. “it’s brave of you to be doing this right now… i’m really proud of you.”

kiba, currently kneeling while looking nice and snug between your legs, smiles at the compliment and the rather expectant look that sits on your lovely face.

he’s got both hands on either side of your head as a means to support his own weight while you get ready to enjoy each other at long last. thick fingers dig into the pillow you’re resting on, blunt nails sinking into the delicate bedding; that is until he moves one hand in order to stroke a line along the smooth curve of your cheek now.

it is warm underneath the tips of his calloused fingertips. he’s missed you so much that he can’t help but dip down to press a tender kiss onto it before he caresses it once more, gripping you by the chin right after.

the distance has been tough. the last time you’ve seen each other was well over three months ago, and while the occasional visits have succeeded in making the entire thing at least somewhat bearable, they always seem to end much too soon for your, and his, liking.

however, you’re both home now. furthermore, you have more than enough time to make up for the one you’ve lost while attending different universities. even with the risk of your parents possibly hearing you while they surely watch their favourite TV show in the living room downstairs.

but never mind that! all you should be focusing on right now is how good your boyfriend looks as he holds himself nice and steady above you; broad back slightly hunched, strong arms flexing, making the muscles in them ripple with drool-worthy tightness.

you’ve got a literal beast of a man caging you, bending you at the waist. all those years of sports have really paid off, huh? dating a jock does have its good sides.

and that beast seems to be awfully eager to finally have you underneath him again after months of nothing but dirty texting and even dirtier phone calls. you can see it in his brown eyes, in the way the corners of his lips keep kicking upwards, in the way his fingers reach down to stroke your hips so that you can align them properly with his own.

but you can also see it in how freaking hard he is; the weight of his cock prominent, the tip repeatedly leaving sticky splotches of shiny pre-cum on your hot skin whenever it touches your thigh, nearing your center inch by inch. in how his wide chest heaves when your hand wraps around the base of it then, urging him to push it inside you already.

fat cockhead nudging your sticky entrance, you look into each other’s eyes at the contact. he looks out of place inside your room. kiba is rugged; all male and tough and mean and dark, and the bed sheets he’s planning to screw you on are pink and girly. to make things even worse, there are numerous soft, cuddly plushies surrounding you on the bed, making the situation almost sinful.

he shoves the colourful squishmallow that’s getting in the way off the bed with an irked huff before he reaches between your bodies to push your puffy folds apart with the help of his fingers. he presses his thumb onto your clit, then and your back arches in response to the pleasant sensation, a deep sigh leaving your lips.

that sigh quickly turns into feeble moaning by the time he starts rubbing circles over your most tender spot and finally presses into you, ever so slowly filling you inch by inch with the dick you’ve been longing for for the last three months. your hole stretches to accommodate the entirety of his cock, tummy all of a sudden feeling full, the heat inside it spreading like a wildfire.

the pace he has to fuck you in in order to not make noise is excruciating — it’s so slow. a shiver still tumbles down your spine when his dark pubic hair tickles your clit, but you miss the way he tends to slam into you whenever you have the place all to yourselves.

he makes up for it by folding you in half and bending your legs until your knees are nearly touching your ears, though.

and that changes everything. he holds the back of your thigh with one hand, supports himself with the other. it’s almost scary — how big he is. he covers you from view entirely with his body, and at the same time makes you feel like you’re going to burst.

breaths mix together, hasty kisses get exchanged. his pace quickens just the tiniest bit.

“oh, fuck yeah... there we go.” he grunts quietly, baring his oddly sharp canine teeth with a clench of his jaw when he feels your walls start to squeeze around him. “attagirl… takin’ my cock so well even after not getting it for s’long.”

“shit, shit, shit… god—” you whimper in response, throwing your head back into the pillow. he’s so big that it feels like he’s inside your womb, no, your throat.

“shh. you need to be quiet… remember?” he hushes in-between ragged breaths as beads of salt form and glimmer on his brow. the pink, heavy duvet he’s covered up to the waist with in case someone would decide to walk in without knocking is already making him sweat profusely. it’s pure torture for someone as hot-blooded as him.

you could say the same. feeling the touch of a hand that isn’t your own for a change causes you to turn even more slippery between your legs than you already are despite the laggard pace you have to keep in order to refrain from making the bed frame squeak and the headboard slam against the wall.

his hand leaves the underside of your thigh as he drops lower to be closer to you. you gasp when he bites you just below your collarbone, a place that he’s positive won’t be visible when you put your shirt back on. his tongue laps over the now-aching spot, sucking on it lightly, making your toes curl against the small of his back and your fingers dig into his dark brown hair.

“ki—” you whine, unable to say his name at how he keeps on thrusting into you, keeps on reshaping your entire cunt somehow. the pace is slow, sure. but it’s deep.

so fucking deep.

“c’mon, baby; i thought i told you to zip it,” he hisses lowly, his big palm clamping over your mouth. he lifts his head just enough to look you in the eyes while he drags his thumb up and down the side of your face again, your jawline. “i know it feels good but you gotta keep it together. you promised me you would.”

are you capable of doing that, though? you’re so small, so delicate. and he’s so strong, so big and intimidating — dangerous, even. it feels like he could crush your entire skull with one hand if he wanted to.

instead, he licks his teeth and swallows the saliva that’s gathering inside his mouth before he whispers, “now tell me… did ya miss me?”

your pupils grow to the size of the dinner plates that your mother had put in front of you both earlier as you nod vehemently, letting out a muffled noise of approval behind his palm that he still has firmly clamped over your mouth.

“yeah? good, ‘cause i did too… missed ya a whole fuckin’ lot. and this pretty lil’ pussy of yours.” kiba grins, feeling blood rushing south at your answer, causing him to get even more hard than he already is — if that is even possible. he’s such a sucker whenever it comes to being desired, he just can’t help it.

“now stay quiet so that i can fuck your brains out, cutie.”

[goldengalore]

Hardest to Love

Summary: Harry and Y/N are broken up but still good friends. He worries that he’s holding her back from moving on and finding love again, so he tries to distance himself from her. But Y/N is too sweet and people are too dumb to treat her right. Stuck between his fear of hurting her and his desire to give her the love he knows she deserves, Harry finds himself in a difficult predicament.

Word count: 8.7k

Warnings: some kink-shaming, mention of cheating, angst, smut (dom!harry, bondage, choking, spanking, degradation, orgasm denial, teasing)

A/N: This fic was inspired by two songs by The Weeknd: Hardest to Love and Scared to Live. Also, Y/N is bisexual in this one—just mentioning this for anyone looking for bi!Y/N fics :)

***

Harry hasn’t been good to Y/N.

The awful realization dawns on him while he’s sitting in a cafe with her one afternoon along with their two friends, Elena and Jordan. Well, actually, they’re more Y/N’s friends than his. He met them through her and only hangs out with them when she’s around. He may not have much in common with them, but whenever Y/N invites him to hang out, he always says yes because how could he turn down an invitation to spend time with her?

At least after Elena and Jordan leave, he gets to have her to himself. Not today though. Today, Y/N announces prematurely that she has to head home. Harry’s shoulders sag in disappointment.

“Whyyy?” he whines, resting his chin on his ring-adorned hand. “What could possibly be more important than spending time with your mates?”

She smiles. “I have a date tonight.”

Her three friends eye her with curiosity.

“Ooo, is it that guy from Tinder you’ve been seeing?” asks Elena.

“Yes, but don’t get too excited. I’m ending it with him.”

“What? Why?” they all ask, almost in unison.

She shrugs vaguely. “I realized he’s not my type.”

Elena snorts. “You say that about everyone you date. What even is your type?”

“Him,” says Jordan, pointing at Harry, who just chuckles.

Y/N’s cheeks flush. “I just haven’t found the right person! Leave me alone.” Her phone vibrates on the table. She checks it. “Oh, it’s him. He’s asking if our date is still on.”

“Poor guy,” says Jordan. “He’s got no idea he’s about to get his heart ripped to shreds tonight.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Please. You’re acting like he’s in love with me. We’ve been on two dates.”

“I don’t know. You’re pretty easy to fall in love with,” says Harry, smirking at her.

Her cheeks turn even more pink as she attempts to bite back a grin. “Okay, I have to go.” Rising to her feet, she grabs her phone and pulls her bag over her shoulder. “See you guys!”

“Good luck tonight, heartbreaker!” Jordan shouts after her as she walks away.

“I can’t with this girl.” Elena shakes her head. “I thought I was picky with dating.”

“She wasn’t always that picky. It was only after Mr. Grammy Award-Winner over here came along,” says Jordan, nodding his head towards Harry.

The comment elicits an awkward laugh from him. “What do you mean?”

The two friends exchange looks. Harry hates when they do that; he always feels left out of the joke.

“You do know that you’re the reason Y/N keeps turning down all the people she dates, right?” Elena says, as if it should be blatantly obvious to him. “She’s still not over you.”

He scoffs. “That’s ridiculous. We’ve been broken up for eight months. She’s been seeing new people for four of them. Don’t reckon she’d be doing that if she wasn’t over me.”

“It literally could not be more obvious,” says Jordan. “She goes on dates with people, then she hangs out with you for five minutes, and oh, all of a sudden, those people are no longer good enough for her?”

Shaking his head, he leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. “I think you’re reading too much into it.”

Elena sighs and tucks a strand of her pink-dyed hair behind her ear. “Look, ever since you told her that you’d be willing to get back together with her when the time feels right, she’s decided—either consciously or subconsciously—not to give anyone else a chance. It doesn’t help that every time the two of you are spotted anywhere, Twitter acts like you’re back together again.”

“Y/N doesn’t even use Twitter,” he says, purposely deflecting now.

“You know that’s not my point.”

“So, what then?” He throws his hands up in defeat. “What am I meant to do? Stop spending time with her?”

“That, or you can just tell her you’re not open to being romantically involved with her again,” Elena suggests. “Until you say something, she’s never going to move on.”

He won’t admit it to them, but he knows they’re right. He too has noticed Y/N’s pattern of going on a couple dates with someone, then conjuring up some excuse for why she can’t envision a future with them. Everything from “he’s a snorer” to “she thinks bald cats are ugly” to “he uses too many exclamation marks in his texts.” And Harry is guilty of enabling this behaviour by telling her that it makes total sense to turn someone down for such trivial reasons. 

Truth be told, he likes watching these other people try and fail to win her heart. It gives him a sick sort of satisfaction to know that for her, no one compares to him. But he recognizes the deep selfishness of these feelings, and it’s something he doesn’t like very much about himself.

Harry and Y/N’s relationship has been complicated from the start. They met at a wedding. Harry was fresh out of a year-long relationship, and in no way, shape, or form was he ready to jump into another one just yet. But how was he supposed to resist Y/N, who looked like a fairy in her pretty floral dress and had a voice sweeter than honey and blushed whenever anyone said anything remotely nice about her and made him laugh harder than he’d laughed in weeks, maybe even months?

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t resist. So, he pursued her until she fell for him hard. And he fell for her too. And they had the most magical three months together, attached at the hip whenever possible and constantly texting each other when not. But the spark began to fizzle out once Harry realized, and Y/N did too, that he hadn’t completely moved on from his ex.

Y/N was so understanding, albeit heartbroken.

Harry went off to Japan for a few weeks to focus on himself and his music. She was on his mind the entire time, so much so that his ex began to feel like a distant memory from another lifetime. On his first night back from Japan, he called her. And it was as if nothing had changed between them; they picked up right where they’d left off.

Over the next couple years, their relationship was a turbulent cycle of breaking up and getting back together, rinse and repeat. It was almost always Harry who would get cold feet and call it off when things began getting too serious—a habit he’d developed after getting his own heart broken too many times.

He could see the effect that this back-and-forth was having on Y/N, how it was wearing her down and sucking the liveliness out of her. He didn’t want to cause her any further pain, but he didn’t want to completely lose her either.

When they broke up for the last time, he told her that maybe now just wasn’t the right time for them to be together. They could still remain friends, and perhaps in the future, if the time ever felt right, they could try again.

He knows that Elena’s suggestion of telling Y/N that he’s not romantically interested in her anymore is the most sensible thing to do. However, he can’t find it in himself to do that. Instead, he decides to create a bit of distance between him and Y/N, hoping that it’ll be enough to help her move on from him. 

Only time will tell if his plan works.

***

Y/N is pissed off. She doesn’t get angry very often, so when she does get like this, she doesn’t quite know what to do with herself.

Last night, she invited a few close friends over to celebrate her recent promotion at work. While Harry initially promised that he would be there, he texted her last minute that he couldn’t make it because he wasn’t feeling well. 

This morning, as she was scrolling through her social media, she stumbled upon a picture taken by a fan of him leaving a pub last night with his friend Ben. He appeared perfectly fine and healthy, making it abundantly clear that what he’d told her was a lie. This isn’t the first time he’s cancelled on her in the past few weeks. She just assumed it’s because he’s been super busy with work, but now she feels stupid and naive for thinking so.

The discovery of Harry’s lie made her so upset that she got dressed that morning and drove straight to his house to confront him. Now, as she stands on his porch, waiting for him to answer the door, a sudden sense of self-awareness comes over her. 

She’s never been a confrontational person. Showing up on someone’s doorstep unannounced to go off on them isn’t like her at all. She hasn’t even thought about what she’s going to say. 

Just as she’s considering turning around and sprinting back to her car, the door opens to reveal a freshly awoken Harry, dressed in the fluffy lavender robe that she always loves seeing him in because he looks extremely soft and cuddly when he wears it, like a big, purple teddy bear. She has to resist the urge to squeeze him in her arms.

“Y/N, hi,” he says, brows perked in surprise. “Wasn’t expecting you this morning.”

“I just came to check up on you and see how you’re feeling.” She forces a smile and observes his reaction closely.

At first, he just stares at her blankly. Then it suddenly hits him, his eyes going wide as saucers. “Oh! Right, yeah, I’m, uh, I’m feeling much better. Thank you.”

Liar.

Y/N’s lip almost quivers from watching him lie straight to her face, but she maintains her composure.

“Must’ve been pretty bad, huh?” she asks. “Since you had to cancel so last minute.”

He looks down and fidgets with a loose thread on his robe. “Yeah, I wasn’t in the best state. Threw up three times.”

Her brows arch up, feigning surprise. “Three times! Wow! And you still had the energy to meet Ben at a pub on the other side of town?”

His face falls.

Y/N drops her facade now, letting her true emotion show. “You know, if you didn’t want to hang out with me, you should’ve just said so. There was no need to lie.”

“It’s not that. I love hanging out with you... Probably more than anyone else I know.”

“Then why did you lie? And why have you been so distant?”

He looks past her shoulder. Since she got here, a light drizzle has started, tiny droplets pattering softly against the ground.

“Let’s talk inside,” he says.

A stubborn part of her wants to keep her feet firmly planted on his porch, but it’s cold out here and the warm interior of his house does look incredibly inviting right now. She steps inside, taking off her shoes on the mat before marching into the kitchen.

He shuts the door and joins her there. “Do you want to sit?”

“No.” She leans against the edge of the kitchen counter and crosses her arms. He stands across from her, his hands resting behind him on the kitchen island.

She can’t help it. She has to say it, “It’s not fair, you know. I’ve always supported you and been there to celebrate your successes. I know getting a promotion at work isn’t nearly as exciting as getting a Grammy nomination, but still—”

“Don’t do that.” He shakes his head. “Don’t put down your accomplishments like that.”

She shrugs.

“I’m sorry I lied. And I’m sorry I’ve been distant. I just...” He hesitates. “I feel like I’ve been holding you back.”

Her brows furrow. “Holding me back from what?”

“From moving on. From falling in love again. I feel like the more time we spend together, the more you struggle to connect with the people you go out with. When we broke up, I told you that I’d be willing to get back together when the time felt right, and I said that because I still wanted you to myself, even if I didn’t want to commit to an actual relationship. And I realize now how shitty that was.” He sighs and stares down at the floor, seeming ashamed with himself. “I don’t want to sabotage your chances at finding love. Don’t want to be that guy.”

His explanation takes a minute to sink in and wrap her head around.

“So, wait,” she says, “you think I haven’t fallen in love with someone yet because I’m still hung up on you?” She laughs a little. “C’mon, H, that’s a tiny bit egotistic, don’t you think?”

He lifts a shoulder. “Maybe. But Elena and Jordan think so as well.”

She scoffs. “Oh, so now the three of you are, like, the committee of experts on my love life? What, do you meet once a week to discuss all the reasons why my love life is a flop?”

He blinks at her slowly. “Y/N...”

“No, no, this is stupid.” She uncrosses her arms, clutching the counter behind her instead. “You are not the reason that I can’t fall in love. You’re... You’re...” She finds herself grasping for some way to convince him that his whole theory is absurd, but suddenly, she’s not even sure if it is. In the end, all she’s able to say is, “You’re my best friend.”

His green eyes soften. “And you’re mine. But maybe...” He winces, like he knows the next part is going to hurt her. “Maybe, staying friends after the breakup was a bad idea.”

This feels like a punch in the gut. It’s like experiencing their breakup all over again, except worse because the pain of losing a best friend is somehow more visceral, more agonizing than losing a romantic partner.

“You don’t mean that,” she says brokenly. 

“I’m just saying that we should try spending some time apart and see how that works for us. If nothing changes, fine... But if something does, then maybe it’s for the best?”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she says, “Fine. If that’s what you want.”

He says nothing to reaffirm her statement, making her doubt for a moment that this is really what he wants, but then she snaps herself out of it. No, he has made it clear that he doesn’t want to spend time with her anymore, and she’s not going to chase after someone who obviously doesn’t want her around.

“I should go.”

He follows her to the front door. They both stare out the window at the rain, which has escalated from a light drizzle to a full-on thunderstorm within a matter of minutes.

“It’s pouring out there,” he says. “Do you want to wait until the rain stops?”

“No.”

“Well, do you at least want an umbrella?”

“No, thank you.” She’s being stubborn, but she doesn’t want to be around him any longer than she has to. After slipping on her sneakers, she steps out onto his porch and makes a run for it to her car but gets drenched by the time she ducks into the driver’s seat.

***

The next time Harry sees Y/N is three weeks later at a mutual friend’s birthday party. They’ve developed so many mutual friends over the years of knowing each other that they’re bound to cross paths at one point or another.

She arrives at the party a little while after him, accompanied by Elena. Her sleeveless maroon dress hugs her curves perfectly and brings out the natural pink tint of her cheeks. Her hair is shorter too, he notices. He tries not to stare when she walks in, but it’s hard not to. They make eye contact from across the room. She looks away before he can lift a hand to wave hello.

For the entire evening, every time he enters a conversation that Y/N is also a part of, she discreetly withdraws. Any time he even comes close to her vicinity, she drifts further away from him. It’s frustrating. But he probably deserves it after how poorly he handled things with her. Lying to her instead of just having a candid conversation about his concerns. 

While he’s receiving the cold shoulder from her, Elena appears to be receiving quite the opposite treatment. Y/N sticks by her side the whole night, holding hands or linking arms with her, sharing longing glances, blushing whenever Elena speaks directly to her. He suspects there’s something going on there, but he can’t be sure. There is one person at the party, however, who might be able to give him the answers he seeks.

“Hi, Jordan,” says Harry, walking up to the short, dark-haired man who was oddly standing by himself in one corner, staring down at the phone in his hands.

Jordan glances up at him for a quick second. “Oh, hey, what’s up?”

“Not much. You?”

“Just sexting with this hot older guy I met last week,” he replies casually, his thumbs flying across the tiny keyboard on the screen.

“Oh. Nice,” says Harry. He’s not sure how to bring up the topic subtly, so he decides to forgo subtlety altogether. “So, um, Y/N and Elena...”

“I’m as shocked as you are.” Jordan laughs. “Who would’ve thunk those two would ever hook up?”

“Are they serious or...?”

“Depends who you ask.” Jordan glances up again and registers the confusion on Harry’s face. He elaborates, “If you ask Y/N, she’ll tell you they’re serious. If you ask Elena, she’ll tell you it’s still early days and too soon to say.”

“Huh.” He looks in Y/N’s direction again. This time, she’s resting her head on Elena’s shoulder, listening intently to whatever conversation was happening around her.

“Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck,” Jordan suddenly says.

Harry whips his head back around. “What?”

“The guy I’m sexting. He just sent me a video of him putting his dick in a—”

Raising a hand, Harry says, “You know what? I don’t think I want to know.”

Later that night, everyone gathers around to sing happy birthday to the birthday girl and watch her blow out the candles on her huge, extravagant cake. Afterwards, as the crowd disperses around the house again, Harry loses sight of Y/N. He decides it’s for the best since he’s spent most of the night watching her from afar instead of enjoying the party and mingling with friends he doesn’t see very often due to his busy schedule.

From that point onward, he tries to be more present in his conversations with people.

When he breaks away to find the bathroom a bit later, he passes by a room that looks like a den. The door is slightly ajar, enough to make out Elena sitting on a couch with a few other people. Y/N is nowhere to be seen, though she could be in some part of the room that isn’t visible from where he’s standing. But as he listens in to their conversation, it quickly becomes clear that she’s not in the room with them.

“Where’s your shadow?” asks one of the other girls sitting with Elena.

“Who?” she says.

“Y/N. She’s been following you around like a lost puppy all evening.”

“Oh, yeah, I don’t know where she went, actually.” Elena looks around vaguely. 

Harry steps away from the door before she can see him. He leans against the wall next to the doorway, taking out his phone so that if someone catches him standing there, he can pretend he’s just messing around on his phone.

“The two of you are a couple then?” asks the other girl.

“I wouldn’t call it that,” replies Elena. “We’ve just hooked up a few times.”

A male voice chimes in, “What’s she like? In bed, I mean. I’ve always wanted to know, but she was always with that Watermelon Sugar guy.”

Harry rolls his eyes at that.

“She’s kind of a freak, actually,” Elena speaks in a hushed voice, like she’s revealing a scandalous secret.

“Oh yeah?”

“Uh-huh. She’s into that choking, slapping, getting tied up, being called names type of shit.”

Harry rolls his eyes once again. These must be the most vanilla people ever if they think liking a bit of bondage and degradation makes someone a “freak.” Most of the people he’s been with were into things like that, not just Y/N.

“Damn,” says the male voice. “It’s always the sweet, innocent-looking ones.”

“Yeah,” says Elena. “It’s kind of weird, but I just go with it. At least I can laugh about it later.”

A grimace has settled onto Harry’s face after hearing their conversation. He doesn’t appreciate the way they talk about Y/N, as if she’s some sort of anomaly or a sex object. He knows all too well what it’s like to have your sex life dissected and gossiped about by people who don’t even know you. 

It especially irks him when he remembers how insecure Y/N used to be about her kinks when he first met her. It took her some time to open up to him about what she liked in bed because before they met, she’d never had the chance to explore her deepest desires and fantasies in a safe space with someone who made her feel comfortable. He’s grateful that he was able to give her that.

Now, he leaves to go find the bathroom again, but when he gets there, it’s already occupied. He heads upstairs to find another one. The music from the party fades as he ascends the staircase. It’s mostly dark up there, except for the warm white light spilling out of a room down the hall. As he gets closer, he realizes it’s the other bathroom and, of course, someone is inside this one too.

He groans internally until he reaches the open doorway and realizes that the person inside is Y/N. She’s standing in front of the sink, fixing her hair in the mirror. Her gaze shifts to Harry as he appears in the hallway.

“Hey,” he says softly.

“Oh, sorry, do you need the bathroom? I was just leaving.” She starts to exit, but he steps in the middle of the doorway, blocking her path.

“You’re avoiding me.”

She meets his eyes reluctantly. “Well, I didn’t know if I was allowed to talk to you or not.”

He frowns. “What? Of course you are.”

“Just wondering, you know, because we’re not supposed to be spending time together anymore.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t talk if we see each other at a party, Y/N.”

“Well, how was I supposed to know?!” She crosses her arms in front of her chest. “These rules are confusing.”

His eyes wander over her face, taking in her pretty features. “They are confusing,” he agrees, pausing before adding, “and stupid.”

“Oh, so now you admit it.” A playful grin dances on her lips, making him chuckle.

Lifting up a hand, he takes a strand of her hair between his fingers and twirls it around, examining its length. He notices her breathing stop for a moment.

“You cut your hair,” he states.

“Yeah.”

“Looks nice. Pretty.”

She blushes. “Thanks.”

He releases the strand of hair and watches it bounce back into place. Then he reaches up and brushes his fingers against her cheek. She leans into his touch, almost on instinct. His gaze rests on her lips now—so red and full and tempting. He begins inching towards them, but at the last moment, she pulls away.

“H,” she whispers, “we can’t. I have a girlfriend.”

“You do?” he asks, even though he already knows what she’s about to say.

“Yeah. Elena. We’ve been seeing each other.”

“Oh,” he says. And he tries to control himself. He really tries to stop the words from leaving his mouth, but they come out anyway, “Y/N, I don’t think she’s right for you.”

“What?”

“I don’t think Elena’s a nice person.”

She frowns. “Where is this coming from?”

He doesn’t want to tell her about the conversation he overheard earlier. It would only hurt her. “I just think you deserve better.”

Her eyes narrow. “And what exactly is ‘better’? You?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then what are you saying, Harry?”

He can sense her losing her patience with him. Y/N, who normally has the patience of a saint and puts up with a lot more than most people would, is done with his shit.

“Because you told me that you were worried about holding me back from moving on and finding love again. But now that I’m with someone new, you’re telling me that I’m with the wrong person? It’s just— It’s not making sense. You say that you don’t want to hold me back, but that’s exactly what you’re doing.”

Her words pierce through his heart. “You’re right... It doesn’t make any sense. And I’m sorry. But I stand by what I said about Elena. She doesn’t have your best interests at heart, lovie. She doesn’t deserve you. Neither do I.”

She stares at him for one long moment, a tenderness flashing in her eyes for the briefest second before she looks away. “I can’t do this.” She squeezes past him to leave the bathroom.

“Y/N—”

“Bye, Harry.”

***

Settling in bed with a book in his hands, a cup of chamomile tea on the nightstand next to his phone and his songwriting notebook, which is always there in case a lyric idea pops up in his head while he reads. This is how Harry spends most of his nights lately. It’s a soothing ritual to come home to after a long day. 

The only thing missing is having someone in bed next to him. Someone to read with or read to. Someone to kiss goodnight. Someone to hold as he drifts off to dreamland.

Ever since his breakup with Y/N, he has been taking the time to figure himself out, to really look inward and, with the help of his therapist, work on some deep-rooted bad habits that he seems to carry from one relationship to the next. He’s never been good at being alone, which explains why he has a propensity to dive into a new relationship before he’s even moved on from the last.

He regrets rushing things with Y/N. If he’d just taken the time to get to know her and properly befriend her before taking the next step, things might have panned out differently. He truly believes that.

A yawn pulls itself from him as sleep begins to fog his brain. He places his book on the nightstand. Before he can turn the lights out, his phone buzzes with an incoming call. It’s Y/N. 

He picks up. “Hello?”

He doesn’t receive an instant response. All he can hear is the beat of some techno song in the background and the muffled sound of female voices. He wonders if she just butt-dialed him by accident.

“Hellooo?”

This time, he hears her say on the other end, “You were right.”

Puzzled, he replies, “What?”

“You were right about Elena. She’s not a nice person.” 

She doesn’t elaborate any further, but he can infer from the hollowness in her voice that Elena broke her heart.

“I just called to tell you you were right,” she says. “You can feel all smug now and say ‘I told you so.’”

“You think I’m that much of an arsehole?”

She sighs and mumbles, “No.” He hears her sniffle. “I just don’t get why everyone treats me like I’m some toy they can play with and throw out when they get bored. Am I that easy to discard? Or maybe I’m just hard to love.”

“No. You’re not.” If anything, that’s me, he thinks to himself.

“Then why does this keep happening to me?” She sounds so defeated, it makes his chest physically ache.

“Because, Y/N, people are stupid—and I’m including myself in that statement—and they don’t realize what they’ve got until they lose it. By the time they realize it, it’s far too late.”

She goes quiet. He can hear the music thumping in the background again.

“Where are you?” he asks.

“In the bathroom of a club.”

He quirks a brow. “What are you doing at a club? You don’t even like clubs.” He recalls her telling him once that she hates being surrounded by all the sweaty bodies bumping into each other.

“Jordan dragged me here. Said the best way to get over a heartbreak is to go to a club and find a stranger to hook up with. But he ditched me as soon as we got here, so I thought I would just drink and dance away my sorrows, but then some creep tried to grope me on the dancefloor and I wanted to throw up and now I’m hiding in the bathroom.”

“Fuck’s sake,” he mutters under his breath. His frustration isn’t directed at her but at Jordan for giving her such terrible advice and then abandoning her in such a vulnerable state. “Stay where you are. I’m on my way.”

“Wh— You’re coming here? You don’t have to do that.”

“Well, I’m doing it.”

He gets the name of the club from her and tells her he’ll text her once he’s there. Climbing out of bed, he quickly throws on some clothes and heads out to his car.

He’s prepared to go into the club to retrieve her when he gets there, but she’s already standing outside by the curb, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. She has on a flimsy jacket, far too thin to block out the cool night air. As soon as he pulls up, she climbs into the passenger seat, finding refuge from the cold.

“You all right?” he asks, studying her intently.

She nods. “You know, you really didn’t have to come all the way—”

“Hush. Put your seatbelt on.”

She raises her eyebrows at his authoritative tone. “Yes, sirrr.”

He feels something stir inside him when she says that but quickly squashes the feeling and starts driving.

“Do you want me to take you to your flat?” he asks.

“Ugh, no. Jordan’s going to come home with some guy in the middle of the night and wake me up with obnoxiously loud sex noises.”

He nods once. “Okay then. My place, it is.”

When they reach his house, he prepares one of the guest bedrooms for her to sleep in while she uses the bathroom. By the time she comes out, he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting patiently for her. She sits down next to him. As he turns to look at her, he catches her staring directly at his mouth.

“Kiss me,” she says.

“You’re drunk.”

“Just one kiss. Please?”

He rolls his eyes and gives her a peck on the lips, forcing himself to pull back before he gets carried away. “Happy?”

“No, I want more,” she says, leaning forward.

He smirks and squeezes her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Greedy girl.” He releases her chin. “Go to sleep.”

She complies and gets under the covers. Staring up at him with her sweet, tired eyes, she says, “Thank you. For taking care of me.”

He shrugs. “I like taking care of you.”

He gets up then and leaves the room, shutting off the lights as he goes.

***

Y/N wakes up with a miserable headache compounded by a deep embarrassment over her actions from the previous night. Calling up Harry just to whine about her pitiful love life, prompting him to come rescue her drunk ass from the club, begging him to kiss her...

She wants the ground to swallow her whole.

Eventually, she drags herself out of bed and into the bathroom. After cleaning herself up, she heads down to the kitchen, where Harry is sitting at the island in his purple robe, having his morning coffee. The sight is all too familiar to her; she used to wake up to this on a regular basis when they were still together.

“Morning,” he greets her as she walks in, avoiding his gaze. “How are you feeling?”

“Hungover.”

She fills up a glass with cold water and savours the feeling of it pouring down her parched throat. Finally, she turns around and forces herself to look at him.

“Sorry about last night,” she states. “I was, um, a bit of a mess.”

He gives her a kind smile. “It’s all right. You don’t need to apologize. Honestly, it made me quite happy to see your name pop up on my screen when you called.”

Her heart swells. “Really?”

He nods and takes a sip of his coffee to hide the timidness in his expression.

A smile spreads across her face. “Well, okay, that makes me feel better.”

He gazes at her for a while, like he’s carefully contemplating his next words. “So... You were upset last night and I didn’t want to ask, but... What did happen with Elena?”

Her eyes drop down to the floor at his question.

Noticing her reaction, he quickly says, “Sorry, it’s none of my business.”

“No, it’s fine.” She looks up at him again. “I found out she was sleeping with someone else. I caught her texting this other person while we were in bed, cuddling. She thought I was asleep.” A bitter laugh escapes her at the idiocy of it all.

Harry’s eyes turn sympathetic. “Jesus. That’s awful.”

“Yeah... So, hey, you may have broken my heart, but at least you can say you never cheated on me!”

“I mean, that bar’s pretty low.”

“Oh, the bar is fucking underground at this point.”

He laughs. She grins. Then he stands up and walks around the island to her, pulling her into a tight hug, which she happily reciprocates. 

“I’m sorry people suck,” he says, resting his chin on her head. “I’m sorry I suck.”

She frowns. “You don’t suck.”

“Yes, I do. All I’ve done is break your heart. Over and over again.”

She pulls away to get a proper look at him, noting the guilt in his eyes. “That’s not true. You’ve been an amazing friend to me.”

He smiles sadly. “I don’t know about that.”

“Harry...” It concerns her that he’s being so hard on himself. He really has been a wonderful friend to her. Despite all the hardships they experienced during their relationship, he has been there for her more than anyone else in her life. To hear him fail to recognize that makes her sad.

“I want to be a better friend. I think I can do that. If you’ll give me a chance.”

“Of course.”

“I can even be your wingman if you need me to be.”

She laughs and makes a face. “My wingman?”

“Sure, why not?” He gives a casual shrug, as if the concept of her ex-boyfriend, whom she’s still undeniably attracted to, being her wingman isn’t weird as hell.

“Thanks for the kind offer, but I’m actually putting the brakes on dating for a while.”

“Oh, okay.”

She hugs him again, content to have him in her arms, content that she can finally go back to hanging out with her best friend again.

***

“I think we should watch the new season of The Crown tonight.”

Y/N’s eyes widen with excitement. “Oooh, yes! I’ve been dying to watch that.”

“We could order pizza as well. From that new place I told you about. You need to try it.”

“Absolutely.”

They’re sitting in their little corner of the cafe. Y/N finished work a while ago and headed there to meet up with Harry, who was coming from a writing session at the studio. Now, as they discuss their plans to wind down for the evening, something—or someone—catches Y/N’s attention from across the cafe. 

“Oh, fuck my life,” she mutters.

“What’s wrong?” asks Harry, as he follows her gaze over his shoulder.

“I just realized Elena’s here. With her new girlfriend. They’re sitting over by the window.”

“Oh.” He turns back to Y/N. “Do you want to leave? We can go somewhere else.”

She replies with an adamant shake of the head. “Nope. This is our favourite cafe too. Why should we have to go?”

Suddenly, Elena’s gaze shifts over to her and they make eye contact. Without reacting, Y/N returns her attention to Harry. But then, out of the corner of her eye, she sees Elena standing up and walking over to them.

“Oh, great, she’s coming over here,” she says with an agitated sigh.

Harry squeezes her hand on the table reassuringly. “It’s okay. You’ve got this.”

“Y/N,” says Elena, once she reaches their table.

“Elena,” says Y/N.

“Harry,” says Elena.

“Elena,” says Harry.

A long, awkward pause follows.

Unable to endure the awkwardness any further, Y/N breaks the silence, “How are you?”

“I’m all right. You?”

“I’m fine.”

Another pause. Elena turns to Harry. 

“So, the reason I came over here is because my girlfriend, who’s sat over there”—she points over to the table she just came from—“happens to be a massive fan of yours, Harry, and she was hoping she could get a picture with you. I told her that we’re friends and I would ask for her.”

It takes everything in Y/N to resist the urge to roll her eyes dramatically. The nerve of this woman to cheat on her, then come over here to ask Harry—whom she only knows through Y/N—to take a picture with the same person that she cheated with! Truly mindboggling. Not to mention, it puts Harry in a very awkward position.

He looks at Y/N unsurely, waiting for a cue from her before deciding how to respond. “Uh...”

She gives him a small nod.

“Sure,” he says to Elena.

He stands up and follows her to the table where Elena’s girlfriend is eyeing him with a frozen, starstruck look on her face. He chats with her for a minute, then poses for a selfie before walking back over to Y/N.

“That was quick,” she says.

He shrugs. “She was more interested in getting a photo than talking. I asked her not to post it until later though, once we’re gone.”

Now that the uncomfortable encounter is over, they return to their conversation from earlier, debating what else to get with their pizza tonight.

Some time later, long after Elena and her girlfriend have left the cafe, Y/N notices a group of young people lurking outside the entrance, trying to peer in through the glass door. It’s getting dark out, but she has seen, and worn, Harry’s merch enough times to recognize it on someone else even in the dark from a distance.

“Uh-oh,” she says.

“What?” Harry looks at her. With his back to the entrance, he has no idea what’s happening. 

“I think I see fans outside. Elena’s girlfriend must’ve posted the picture already.”

He throws up a hand and lets it fall on the table. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

Y/N takes out her phone to check, and surely enough, the picture is all over social media. The cafe logo can be seen on a sign in the background. “Yup, she posted it on Instagram and now it’s making rounds. This place is going to get crowded real fast if we don’t leave soon.”

“Would it be bad if we snuck out the back? I’m just not in the mood to deal with this.”

“Yeah, we can do that. I’m sure Theo would let us use the back exit.”

Theo is the owner of the cafe, whom Harry and Y/N have befriended over the years.

Harry scoots his chair back to stand up, then stops and looks at her with a conflicted expression. “I feel bad.”

She leans forward and locks eyes with him. “H, people can’t expect you to be on all the time, ready to interact and take pictures with them whenever they want. You’re a human being, not a tourist attraction.”

“I know, I know.” He bites his lip and sighs. “Okay, let’s go.”

They stand up, grab their jackets, and find Theo, who doesn’t even hesitate to help them sneak out the back exit into the empty alleyway behind the cafe. Once outside, they stop to put on their jackets. Y/N shivers as a cold breeze passes by.

“Holy crap. How did it get so cold?” she mutters through chattering teeth.

“You need a better jacket. This thing is paper thin.” Harry pinches the arm of her jacket to prove his point.

She rolls her eyes. “Okay, mom. It’s not that thin.”

“Here, put this on.” He hands her his thick, green jacket, but she pushes it away.

“No! Then you’ll get cold.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Nope.”

He glares at her. “Y/N, put it on.”

“Make me.”

His eyebrows raise high on his forehead. “What did you say?”

A devilish grin materializes on her face. “I said... Make me.”

Grabbing her by the waist, he pushes her up against the wall of the cafe. She stares up at him, gasping when she notices the unmistakable lust in his eyes. He leans forward and presses his lips against hers so firmly, so hungrily that it literally takes her breath away. She kisses him back with the same hunger until, all of a sudden, he pulls away.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he blurts out.

She shakes her head. “No, don’t be sorry.”

He releases her waist and takes a step back, a look of dread now replacing the lust from before. “This is bad. This is so bad.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“I can’t do this again. Us being together. It never ends well.” He runs a flustered hand through his curls. “I don’t want to hurt you again. I love you too much for that.”

She tilts her head to the side. “Why are you so convinced that you’ll hurt me again?”

“Because that’s what I do, Y/N. I think I’ve proven that. It’s just who I am.”

“No, it’s not.”

He turns away, but she steps forward and takes his face in her hands, making him look at her again.

“I know who you are. You’re kind and thoughtful and loving, and you have the biggest heart of anyone I know. You’re also flawed and imperfect and you make mistakes, but who doesn’t? At least you’re trying to be better, which is more than most people can say.”

His eyes never leave hers as she talks, which tells her that her words are actually sinking in.

“I know you’re scared of hurting me again, but I’m not scared. I trust you and I trust that it’ll be different this time.”

“How can you still trust me after everything I’ve put you through?”

“Because like I said, I know you.”

Like a light switch, Y/N catches the shift in his eyes from fear to hope.

“Now kiss me,” she says. “Properly this time.”

And then she’s back against the wall with his hands squeezing her waist and his mouth claiming hers. No hesitation this time. No internal conflicts. Just pure love and fervor and affection.

He gets even closer, until their fronts are touching, and rubs up against her. She moans, squirming between his body and the wall. Whereas she was cold before, the heat of their passion is enough to warm her up.

He starts speaking in between kisses. “We’re not”—kiss—“having sex”—kiss—“in an alleyway.”

She giggles against his lips. “Okay, then take me home.”

***

Back at Harry’s house, they’ve barely stepped in through the door before he’s pressing her up against it, attaching his lips to her jaw and neck while his hand wanders down the front of her body. His deft fingers unbutton her jeans before sliding inside them. He caresses her clit through her panties.

She tilts her head back, exposing more of her neck for him to kiss and suck on. Her hands weave through his hair. He continues rubbing languid circles into her clit until her panties dampen with her arousal, then stops.

“Nooo,” she whines.

“Shh, just taking you upstairs. C’mon.” He leads her up to his bedroom where he begins stripping off her clothes. He doesn’t remove his own clothes just yet, knowing she likes it this way. Something about being completely exposed and vulnerable while he’s fully clothed is a turn-on for her.

He tells her to lie on the bed while he goes to the closet to grab a couple of silk ties. When he returns, her hand is between her legs. He climbs on top of her and grabs her wrists, sliding them up by her head.

“Can’t leave you alone for two seconds without you touching yourself, hmm?”

She gives him an innocent smile.

“What am I going to do with you?” he says.

“Anything you want.”

His cock twitches in his pants. “Gonna be a good girl and keep your hands above your head?”

“Yes, sir,” she says, still smiling.

He kisses her briefly and gets up to bind her wrists to the bedposts using the silk ties. He has her tug on them a bit to ensure that they’re secure but not overly tight. Then he’s back on the bed, positioning himself between her spread legs, almost drooling at the sight of her dripping wet cunt.

She watches eagerly as he lowers his head between her legs and swipes his tongue over her slit, savouring her intoxicating taste and scent. It occurs to him while he’s sucking on her swollen nub that they haven’t does this in so long and she’s probably been in bed with several other people in that time. The thought makes his fingers dig deeper into her thighs. 

“You taste so fucking good,” he comments. “Annoys me to think of all the other people who’ve tasted you.”

“There haven’t been that many.”

“Well, even one is too many for me, so...”

She giggles and squirms as he dips his tongue into her hole. Whenever he draws back to take a breath, her hips automatically buck towards his mouth. He has to hold her down with one hand on her abdomen. 

It’s easy to tell when she’s nearing an orgasm from the way her thighs tense and her moans become more frequent, breathing more ragged. 

“I’m going to—” she begins.

“Don’t even think about cumming until I say so,” he warns.

“But I’m so close. Please—”

“Hold it.”

“I can’t!”

Ignoring her pleas, he continues licking at her clit as he pleases until she’s writhing on the bed, slowly coming apart. Her back arches as the orgasm ripples through her body. He waits until she’s done before pinning her with a disapproving look for cumming despite being told not to.

“What?!” she exclaims. “I told you I couldn’t hold it any longer. Not really my fault, is it?”

In a mere second, he’s hovering over her with a hand wrapped firmly around her neck. Her wide eyes stare up at him. He feels her throat bob up and down beneath his palm as she swallows. Her racing pulse can be felt under his fingers.

“What was that?” he asks.

“N—nothing,” she squeaks out.

“That’s what I thought, you greedy little slut.”

“I’m sorry.” Her voice is so small, barely above a whisper. He can see her sinking into subspace before his eyes. Tied up with his hand around her throat, completely and utterly at his mercy.

“That’s all right, darling,” he says. “I think you’ve forgotten who’s in charge, but we can fix that.”

He starts untying her wrists. She eyes him curiously but doesn’t dare to speak. He flips her over onto her stomach and reties her wrists. 

Leaning down to her ear, he asks, “Do you remember the safeword?” He expects her to have forgotten after all this time, but she proves him wrong.

“Peaches!”

“Good girl.” He plants a soft kiss to her lips, then straightens up again. 

He runs a hand through her hair and down her spine before resting on the delicious curve of her bum. He gives it one brief squeeze before lifting his hand in the air, watching her tense as his touch disappears. He allows the anticipation to build before bringing his hand back down in one swift motion. A resounding slap echoes through the room, followed by a grunt of pain from Y/N.

“Count, slut,” he orders.

“O—one.”

He spanks her again, harder this time, and relishes the way her ass bounces from the impact.

“Ah! Fuck. Two.”

The next few arrive in quick succession, causing her to squirm and fight against her restraints in a futile attempt to escape her punishment. He knows she’s enjoying it though because when the next slap lands on her pussy, his hand comes away covered in her juices.

“Look at you, getting off on your punishment. Only whores enjoy getting punished,” he teases.

Y/N presses her reddening face into the pillow and moans. He chuckles at her reaction and delivers a few more slaps directly to her cunt.

Finally, he stands up to undress himself. Then he lifts her hips off the mattress to shove a pillow under them, propping her up into the perfect position for a fucking. His dick is rock-hard at this point. He’s been palming himself through his pants here and there, but only her pussy can give him the relief he needs. He presses himself against her opening, then stops and starts rubbing his tip against her clit instead.

He keeps this up until she grumbles impatiently, “Can you fuck me already? Please and thank you?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” he says with a smirk, then plows his cock into her.

She inhales sharply. He groans. It takes them both a few moments to process the intensity of her walls stretching around him. He pulls out and pushes back in, his length gliding in and out effortlessly due to her wetness. She tries to grind her hips back into him, though his strong grip keeps her locked in place.

As he brings her to the brink of yet another orgasm, she says, “I need to— I mean, can I please cum?”

He slows the pace of his thrusts. “You came once already, remember? Now you want more?”

“Yesss.” She tries to look over her shoulder at him, and if he could see her big, beautiful eyes, he would probably give in way sooner. “Please, H, I’m sorry for earlier. I really am.”

“Hmmm, I don’t buy it.”

She whimpers in desperation, her hands curling in their restraints.

“I think I should cum inside you and leave you here, unsatisfied, alone, and dripping with my cum.”

Her jaw drops at his evil proposition. “No! God, please don’t do that to me. I’ll do anyth—”

“Shhh, I’m only teasing, sweetheart.” He rubs a soothing hand over her back.

She lets out a sigh of relief.

“You can cum now.”

The words are barely out of his mouth before her pussy is flexing fiercely around his cock, shrouding it in more of her creamy wetness. A few more sharp, sloppy thrusts and he’s cumming inside her too, moaning and repeating her name in his blissful haze.

After pulling out, the first thing he does is remove the pillow from below her hips and untie her wrists. Then he lies down next to her and pulls her into his arms, pressing his lips against her forehead.

“You did so good for me, baby,” he says. Then he draws back to take a good look at her. “Are you all right?”

She gives him a dazed grin. “Oh, I’m amazing.”

He chuckles. “Yes, you are.” Pulling her into his chest, he tells her, “I love you.”

“I love you.”

As they lay there together, he marvels at how lucky he is. Not only to have another chance to be with her, but to have her in his life at all. Y/N is right; things will be different this time. Because this time, he’ll spend less time worrying about getting his own heart broken and more time cherishing hers.

***

Thank you for reading!  MASTERLIST

[zodiyack]

Jace Comforting his S/O (HCs)

Pairings: Jace Wayland x G/N!Reader

Warnings: anxiety, fear, fluff

Author's Note: It was asked that I do Jace comforting his S/O either when they're having an anxiety attack or are just scared, and I figured, why not both?

Masterlist | The Mortal Instruments Masterlist

Taglist: @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read it,  @simonsbluee,  @thewarriorprincessxo,  @sebastianstanslefteyebrow,  @livlaughquinn,  @bubsonnobx,  @bunnyweasley23

ANXIETY

Jace is the kinda guy to do the anxiety / breathing exercises regardless of anyone else in the room or what he's doing.

In that moment, nothing and no one matters except for you.

"Okay love, tell me four things you can see. Now three things you can hear. Two things you can feel? How about one thing you can smell."

Or he'll take your hand and trace his finger up each digit, "Breathe in, at the same speed as m'finger." As he's tracing down, "now breathe out. Remember, same speed."

Once you're a little calm, he'll make sure to do whatever comforts you, be it touch, words of affirmation, or some space.

He refuses to let anyone else be around you in this state, he doesn't want someone to set you off. He doesn't care whether they mean well or not, he values your wellbeing much more.

Def is an emotional support being.

This man will do research just to help.

Separation anxiety - he'll gift you something random.

^ "See, now I have to come back."

Anxiety bc he puts himself in danger - bro will literally be cocky and not even realize he's not helping.

^ "c'mon, no one can get rid of me that easily. I'm a Shadowhunter."

Pure anxiety in general - he turns into a little nerd.

^ You can find him in the library, trying to see if there's anything that can help him learn more about it so he can help.

^^ eventually he realizes that he can just ask you what would be helpful.

All in all, Jace is a loving boyfriend who strives to help in whatever way he can.

FEAR

So when you're afraid, Jace knows. He just knows.

He'll try to find the threat/reason behind it before he talks to you about it, but regardless, he knows he'll have to ask you directly.

Whether he gets it right or not, he asks what the problem is and makes sure to deal with it if possible.

The rest of the day, he makes sure to have you in his arms or within arms reach.

So many fucking cuddles.

He turns even more protective somehow

He definitely tries to tell you funny stories to get your mind off the scary things.

"I'll protect you with my life"

Gifts you a weapon to carry at all times.

He goes out of his way to make sure that you're only with familiar people, never strangers.

If someone makes fun of you for being afraid, Jace gives them the death glare and makes sure they know he has it out for them.

He'll reassure you and tell you that he's there.

I KNOW he 1000% always mentions that he's there to protect you.

"Nothing can get you, I'm here."

He's jus a little guy who wants to be your knight in shining armor.

[savepc2023]

Do they have rizz?

🤨📸

Robin: Yes. A hundred times yes. Students see them walking by and they swoon. Specifically, they've got that 'girl/boy next door' rizz. Everyone (and by everyone I mean the more wholesome of the bunch because let's be honest most of them are downright nasty) wants to kiss their dimples.

Whitney: Well... yes and no? They have charisma, but it's more of aaaaa uh. Like they make an lasting impression. And maybe if they were nice they'd be somewhat on par with Robin. But they're not so all they got going for them is they're rough and sexy and people are into that. But in terms of romance? Hell no. No one wants to get with them like that.

Pure Sydney: Yes but to only a select few: The ones that have a certain type, which iiiis 'pure awkward baby girl/boy that is considered a role model'. Because to be honest if you're not one of those people you'd probably be a little scared and a bit annoyed of sydney tbh. Especially if you're a bit of a mischievous student bc what if they tell on you or smth??? nah. And plus they have a killer glare that just screams 'gtfo my way'.

Corrupted Sydney: The rizziest of them all. The rizzanator. The rizzly bear. The three rizzketeers. They are so hot and for what. With proper communication with pc (if they're dating), they openly flirt with literally everyone. Innuendos thrown into the air and suggestive pick up lines whispered huskily....lord. But that's about as far as it goes, they love leaving people hot and bothered just to sneak off with you to tickle your neck with kisses.

Kylar: Hear me out. Hear me out. Now you might think they have ZERO rizz and YOU'RE RIGHT. THEY HAVE ZERO. ZILCH. NADA. BUT THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT GIVES THEM RIZZ. THEY'RE PATHETIC AND SOME PEOPLE(me) LOVE THAT. Except the people that take an interest in them are too afraid to approach them lest they transfer some of his encounters with bullies to themself. Either that or it's purely sexual like they just want to fuck them and toss them aside.

Avery: N.....no. They're hot as fuck, don't get me wrong but that's....about where it ends. Unlike Whitney, nobody even wants to fuck them because uhhh bad attitude. Also most of the town seems to be into obedient subs? So yeah. Like their arrogance, their bitchy-ness, their pride and how pretentious they come across..........ew. But yeah, no bitches no rizz and definitely no head. (I'd still peg them tho)

Eden: No. He looks hot but he's too scary for that to give anyone confidence to strut up to him. Also there's almost no one to rizz up when you're living deep inside the woods in a cabin. There's a reason the only time he got a bitch was because they developed stockholm syndrome.

Alex: Yes<3 Similar to Robin in a way but unlike with them when people feel at ease and comfortable, with Alex you feel energized. Like you just wanna fuckinf chase eachother and end up tackling the other and just make out in the open. Like oughhh he is so sexy and cute. Save a horse, ride a farmer.

[artful-aries]

Genshin Men: Thoughts on Marriage + How They Would Propose

ok so it's not ALL the genshin men in this post but I do plan to do all of them at some point... (Feat. Diluc, Childe, and Cyno)

Diluc

Diluc is a very traditional man, he would be open to the idea of marriage within reason (ie; after being in a relationship for a significant amount of time)

There would be a small part of him that would have reservations about marrying you; not because of you, but because of his own traumas and issues. He's scared he won't measure up to be the husband you deserve, or that he might lose you

He's a man who pushes past his fears and shortcomings though, especially for the sake of those he cares about. He'll often find himself pondering the idea of marrying you

He would want the proposal to be absolutely perfect, it was the bare minimum of what you deserved after all, but every plan that he would begin to formulate would never come to fruition; he would find some unacceptable flaw and start the process all over again in his head

And then, suddenly one evening as the setting sun lights your face and hair aglow in an ethereal light, he finds the words tumbling out of him like a drunkard leaving the Angel's Share

"Will you marry me, my love?"

Childe (Tartaglia)

This man is all about family, and wants nothing more than to start his own family with you, so of course he likes the idea of marriage

He does worry about his position as a Harbinger though; marrying him would surely put a target on your back, and while he never had any doubts about his own ability to protect you, he didn't like the idea of you being put in danger because of him

Nonetheless, this man loves you so. He would rip out his still beating heart if you asked him to. And it won't be long before he considers the option of marriage before he proposes to you

It's surprisingly sweet and traditional; he takes you to the fanciest place to eat in Liyue, buys you a bouquet of glaze lilies, and takes you on a moonlight walk along the coast just outside of Liyue Harbor for privacy

It's there that he gets down on one knee and proposes, "I used to fight for the sake of getting stronger and beating each opponent, but now...I do the fighting for you, Darling. You mean the world to me. Would you do the honor of being my spouse, now and forever?"

Cyno

Cyno doesn't think much about the concept of marriage until you bring it up idly in conversation one day. It's not that you weren't good enough for him to consider the possibility, it's just that his work as the General Mahamatra keeps him so busy he literally didn't have the time to consider the future with you

He would listen to what you have to say about the idea, but he will hold back his concerns and deflect the conversation. He doesn't want to rain on your parade, but he has his doubt about being able to balance being a good husband and being the General Mahamatra, not to mention the danger you would be put in by association

Cyno takes the longest out of the three to finally decide to propose to you, reasoning that he's been able to keep you safe so far in your relationship, and marriage would bind you to him; in his mind, it would be like he was always with you in some way

His proposal would be a mix; he would prepare you a nice meal or take you somewhere to eat, and ask if he can speak to you privately. With the serious tone, for a minute you're sweating bullets thinking he was upset with you

In his proposal, he wouldn't make any of his awful jokes. He takes the matter too seriously to feel like delivering puns. Cyno will take your hands and look deep into your eyes before finally speaking, "As a General Mahamatra, it is my duty to carry out judgement. When it comes to you, I can think of no better judgement than for me to remain by your side, until the day I draw my final breath. Will you marry me, (Y/n)?"

He is thoroughly shocked when you start crying, thinking he has deeply offended you somehow with his proposal. It's at this point he cracks a joke, trying to soothe you.

Cyno: "B-Before you say yes to a proposal, there is one thing you have to consider..."

Y/N: "What is that?"

Cyno: "On one hand, you get a really nice ring, but on the other hand, you won't.

In Gandharva Ville, Tighnari is stricken by a sudden migraine of an unknown cause