#but i don’t typically listen to it… i literally have not listened to it since last time i posted about it on here

[starbuck]

me, listening to That Black Ice Cream Song: this song is just so good. what a vibe.

john darnielle: it was August the 19th

me: SO FUCKING TRUE

[disneyprincemuke]

wasted like all my potential * fem!driver

jury's out: everything officially fucking sucks

pairings: liam lawson x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver

notes: again i apologise for this taking so long apparently now that I'm kinda mentally no longer struggling with a 12k assignment, I've lost all feels to hurt rocky but no woRRIES IT'S COMING TO AN END SOON

(series masterlist) | (📂 2025: fall from grace)

(prev)

just another day listening to her team explaining another change to the car and another day where she hopes that it all works out in her favour.

she glances out the window of the meeting room, finding the usual corner that’s typically occupied by matt, still empty. she sinks in her seat and folds her arms over her chest as she desperately tries to dial herself back into the meeting.

she catches liam’s eye across the table, the kiwi lifting his eyebrows with a small nod to acknowledge her. she smiles tiredly at him before sucking in a deep breath and returning her gaze to the empty table in front of her.

it’s just another weekend where she tries to save both her and the team’s faces. how long can she keep up the act of having things together in front of the media?

something’s gotta give.

when the meeting ends, she simply picks herself up and is the first one out of the room. sebastian, who’d been sitting next to her, simply sighed to himself as she walked out.

it’s been so difficult to get a grasp of her lately. it’s not just something only he’s noticed, it’s happening to everybody else in the team. since they’d touched down at the airport for the race weekend, it’s even a miracle to get her attention for 5 minutes.

she’s always reserved or simply preferred her own company.

it’s apparent with every single person she interacts with. the girl used to be able to uphold a conversation by her talking alone, but now everything’s minimal. conversations never last more than a minute and she’s always found in her driver’s room by herself.

at first, he concluded that she was unhappy with him. which, would be perfectly fine, seeing the current state of her race weekends. he’s more shocked that she hasn’t blown up in front of him yet.

not a single scream, an utter of frustration… not even a tear shed in half a year and truthfully, it’s almost worrying.

“you’ve got to tell her before she finds out from elsewhere,” sebastian mutters, patting liam on the back as they leave the room. “she’ll be even angrier if it doesn’t come from you.”

“have you spoken to her lately? i don’t think i’ll even get a reaction out of her,” liam whispers back, pointing at the girl walking up the stairs by herself with her head hung low. “do you have any idea how difficult it is to speak to her?”

“yes,” sebastian says with a scowl, “i literally talk to her every weekend.”

liam gives him a knowing stare. “then you should know how unreachable she is nowadays.” he pushes sebastian in the direction of the stairs. “maybe you should speak with her first before i go in there.”

sebastian scoffs, stumbling forward. he turns around and stands next to liam again. “no way. you’re not sending me in there to fight a war by myself.”

“do i really have to? can’t she just find out like everybody else if it goes through?” liam scowls with a sarcastic laugh when sebastian nods.

sebastian pushes him forward. “go and tell her before the media gets a hold of these things and leaks it before you get the chance to break the news yourself,” sebastian says. “let’s not cause a commotion where it’s not needed.”

“fine,” liam mutters, stomping a foot on the ground. he fixes his team shirt and sucks in a deep breath, trying to rehearse his lines in his head. it’s one thing to get the courage to speak to her nowadays, but being the bearer of somewhat bad news is an entirely different situation.

he takes a step forward and looks back at sebastian, throwing him a mean glare. meanwhile, the older man just flashes him a bright smile and an encouraging nod.

he runs up the stairs and calls out to her. the girl stops and turns around. her straight face almost makes liam jump back, not expecting to be greeted so suddenly.

“yes?”

“i uh,” liam huffs and straightens his shirt, “i need to talk to you.”

she tilts her head, “is everything okay?”

liam smiles. seems like he’s caught her at a great time, which should make this slightly easier. “of course. i just need to tell you something; it’s important.”

“oh,” she raises her eyebrows and points down the hallway, “do you want to sit down and talk about it? that serious?”

he shakes his head. he just doesn’t want her to burst out at him. especially that he’s not one to know how to handle her if she breaks. “i can just tell you now,” he shrugs, making his way up the steps to meet her at the top. “but i want you to know that it’s nothing personal.”

nothing personal. so it has something to do with her? she feels her heart start to race in her chest and the room starts to spin. she bites down on her lip and starts to pick at the skin around her nails. “did i do something?”

“no,” liam shakes his head. “what? no, you didn’t do anything. is everything okay?”

she blinks, “yeah, why?”

liam sucks in a deep breath and eventually decides to brush it off. “well, i wanted to let you know that i’m getting offers from other teams for next season.”

he watches her expression change, contorting into an expression he’s not quite sure how to decipher it. so he quickly tries to undo it. “i haven’t signed anything yet. but you know… with the year we’re having, i want to keep my options open. i’ll tell you if something catches my eye.”

he stumbles back, not even realising that she’d made her way down to him, throwing her arms around him. “i’m so happy for you, liam. you deserve to have options.”

he looks down at her body, tightly clinging onto him. “really?”

“of course.” she takes a step back and pats his chest. “you’re the best teammate ever. any team would be lucky to have you as their driver.”

she climbs out of her car with a grumble, half annoyed and half amused. amused that her luck has continued its plummet with every weekend she spends in on a track.

she snarls down at her car as she tears her helmet off her head. “you’re a stupid car,” she mutters, rolling her eyes. “you’ll never be anything like last year’s car. you suck.”

she is fully aware of how crazy she sounds, and looks, telling an inanimate object off. but as of late, it seems those are the only things she can vent to that won’t turn its back on her. the only thing that won’t retaliate when she needs to scream at it.

“if i could kick you, i would,” she mutters with a scowl. “i’d break you apart like a fucking lego set if it wouldn’t get me fired.”

she feels a tap on her shoulder, whirling around to find sebastian smiling at her and her phone held in the air.

“matt’s calling you.” she nods and reaches out for her phone but he pulls it back at the last second. “are you okay? i know quali wasn’t as good as we hoped for, but they’re looking into it to make the car better for tomorrow.”

“seb,” she sighs, shaking her head with a disappointed frown, “you say that every weekend we’re in here. are you not sick of saying that?”

he drops his hand. “well, one of us needs to keep our head up with this season we’re having.” he smiles slightly and offers her the ringing phone. “you shouldn’t let it get to you — you’re still a great driver.”

“that’s not what it feels like lately,” she mutters, grabbing her phone from sebastian. “i should be able to make a car work. it shouldn’t matter if it’s good or bad.” she glances down at her buzzing phone, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. she presses the decline button. “i’ll be at the media pen if you need me.”

she watches from the window in her driver’s room, her friends all gathered up, walking towards the gantries to exit the paddocks. they’re leaving to head for dinner without her after she’d refused their offer again.

oscar had approached her in the media pen to invite her out for dinner with them but she’d just not been feeling it. which would make this the 5th invitation that she’s rejected in 11 race weekends. oscar didn’t force her anymore; just simply shrugged and took her ‘no’ as it is.

which somehow made her feel even worse. which is even funnier, considering that just 2 races ago, she’d been wishing for her friends to invite her out after days in the paddocks. but there was something about her best friend taking her answer point blank without another word.

it feels so… isolating.

what if they’ve finally gotten tired of her rejection? what if they’re tired of her?

she whirls around to face her room. it’s messier than she’d usually keep it, her team shirts are lazily hung on the back of her chair and the sofa, her makeup is sprawled messily all over the table with a half-empty coffee cup that she had silently with sebastian for a strategy meeting.

the framed picture of her and sebastian is up on the wall again, with some attempt from sebastian to help her put it up again. she wishes that he’d never offered to help her put it back up. every time she looks at it, she remembers all her former glory and how far she’s fallen now.

and by meeting, she means that he spoke the entire time while she sat there nodding and smiling politely while thinking about how bad the car would be once she got in it.

and liam is leaving. well, he’s not technically leaving yet but seeing how their year keeps going down, it’s likely that he would. and she’s got a contract for another 3 years — where the hell is she going to go? nowhere because she has to stay here.

but everyone seems to be leaving her after her behaviour. but it’s hard to stop feeling this way.

how can she not feel this way?

if liam’s finished in the top 5 in the race and she’s out of the points, what does that mean for her? she’s just half the driver she was, she thinks.

she finds herself in the bar after feeling the need to be here. liam now holds the record for the highest finish for her team this season, after all. and she’s not about to be labelled a sore loser by not being here at all.

though she could almost predict being the talk of the town with her tucking herself in the corner of the club half the time they spent in there. people always find a way to vilify her actions anyway.

but in a way, she shouldn’t have come out of her hotel room. she shouldn’t have gone anywhere knowing her state of mind. she hasn’t had a drop of liquor in her system for a hot minute, but the minute she was reminded of its glorious taste, she couldn’t hold herself back.

she’s on her knees in the back alley of the club they’d dragged her to, hands planted on the gravel as she struggles to hold herself over the drainage. she takes deep breaths to steady herself, blinking in desperation to steady herself.

“fuck.” she shuts her eyes momentarily, taking another deep breath as she feels a sob and another urge to vomit. moreover, her chest hurts. could it be from drinking too much too fast or is it something deeper than that? she can never tell.

“hey, you’ve been– rocky?”

“don’t,” she sobs, holding a hand up quickly to stop whatever else could have come out of the man’s mouth. she balls her hands against the gravel, the pain of dragging her skin against the rough material doesn’t register, but it does cut into her skin. “whatever you’re going to say, keep it to yourself.”

she feels a warm hand rubbing circles on her back and suddenly there’s someone kneeling on the ground next to her. she feels her hair getting brushed back, held into a makeshift ponytail. “i won’t,” liam mutters, slouching slightly. “what do you need? a glass of water? do you need me to take you back to the hotel?”

she shakes her head as another heavy sigh passes her lips. “i don’t know.”

“i’m going to get you a glass of water from the club, okay?” liam hums, squeezing her hand. “please don’t go anywhere. i’ll only be away for a second, stay conscious.”

she nods through staggered breaths. her hair falls past her shoulders to cover her face and the warm hand on her back is replaced by the cold wind.

she grabs liam’s arm just before he gets up. “don’t tell anyone about this.” she turns slightly. her red eyes and puffed cheeks almost made liam want to stay and cradle her until she felt better then and there. “please.”

there’s something about seeing someone — her, specifically — get wasted. she’s always prided herself as someone who can take her liquor, so this was a whole new look that, honestly, he didn’t want to get used to.

how exactly do you try and relight the spark in someone who seems to dwindle away with every weekend that passes?

he doesn’t ever speak up, but he spends the most time with her out of everyone at this point in their lives. he knows; he notices. it’s hard not to when the tension in the air always seems so heavy.

liam nods. “of course.”

“i’m going to miss you,” she says with a frown, resting on her knees. she unzips the pet carrier and she cups kidnapper’s cheeks and tenderly pets his head. “i just need some time but i can’t take care of you right now.”

the cat simply tilts his head and tenderly lifts its head to rub the top of his head on her cheek. she wraps her arms around kidnapper and sighs.

she knew the day would come, sooner or later, that she couldn’t really take care of kidnapper. sure, he makes her apartment feel less isolated but it’s slowly becoming harder to take care of herself and the cat alike.

there are hours when it feels like a task to get herself out of bed for herself. much less for a cat that depends on her to be taken care of.

so she zips up the carrier and wipes her tears off her face. she composes herself before she forces herself to her feet. she knocks on the door and waits for an answer.

“must be someone we know if you’re not barking!” she hears logan laugh, followed by footsteps and then stubby’s loud footsteps against the hardwood flooring of his apartment.

the door opens, revealing logan in his pyjamas with a small grin. right by his feet is stubby, wagging his tail happily at her with a large smile and hopping on the spot at her sight and scent. “rocky,” he says in surprise with a small grin.

he wouldn’t have been so surprised if she’d been easier to reach lately. but in the passing weeks, it seems that she’s started to pull away from him and oscar.

it’s always a nice surprise when she shows up to his apartment unannounced. but with the familiar carrier by her feet, it makes him wonder what really brings her here. especially considering that she’s practically gone off the grid every single time they’re not in the paddocks for a race weekend.

she completely ignores their messages.

“what are you doing here?”

she had a whole speech prepared the entire time she walked over to his apartment building. a lie about needing him to take care of kidnapper for her while she spent the next couple of weeks in the states with matt.

but she ends up with, “i need someone to take care of kidnapper.”

“of course,” logan grins, tilting his head. “is everything okay? have you been crying?”

“watched a sad movie before coming here,” she forces a laugh out of herself, pointing at the carrier. “you don’t mind, do you? just a couple of weeks — i’m going out of town.”

she wasn’t expecting to make conversation with logan. in fact, that’s the entire reason she’d planned a speech prior to coming here with her cat in tow.

“we don’t mind,” he smiles. “arkansas with matt’s family, i suppose?”

she nods, “yeah.”

how exactly do you talk to your best friend who feels like she’s always a thousand miles away? “well, um,” logan hums, “do you want to come in for a drink? maybe a snack?”

she should accept the offer. “i’m leaving tonight, actually. i still have a lot of packing to do,” she feigns a frown, “maybe after i get back?”

logan nods with a grin. “sure. take care, dude, and have fun.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicora @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification @localwhoore @c-losur3 @notawc @sadg3 @kazuha-pista-badam @mellowarcadefun @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @a-disturbing-self-reflection @mclarengf @xoscar03 @nomie-11 @green-thots @tinyhrry @inejismywife @love4lando @louvrepool

[priyajoyyy]

Rough waters

Literally what is that name?

Clarisse la rue x mermaid!fem!reader

Very certain the perspectives makes sense, but may not.

It switches between what reader and what Clarisse are thinking and doing but is always in readers perspective, if parts are wrong, don’t be afraid to let me know.

Sorry about the ending I think it’s kinda shit.

Warnings:

Mentions of past trauma, protective siblings, eventually protective!Clarisse, poor writing, drowning, cannon typical violence, Clarisse isn’t toxic to reader for once 🥰🤩, implied nudity (the mermaids become human at one point and don’t really have clothing but it’s normal to them, they don’t expect any humans to actually see them and I’m not describing anything), mentions of anxiety and loneliness

Clarisse knew there were plenty of mythical creatures living in the forest and waters surrounding camp halfblood, but she had never realised the lake also habituated mermaids, and especially not pretty ones…

Clarisse hadn’t properly seen all of the creatures in the forest surrounding camp half blood drying her stay, mainly because a lot wouldn’t be very favourable to half bloods invading their space.

But she believed she at least knew of most of the other inhabitants of the camp, Chiron made sure to make all the campers aware of which to avoid and which would be keeping and eye on them and stopping them from misbehaving, so she assumed he wouldn’t miss any out.

It wasn’t till the middle of summer she learnt that mermaids lived in the camp lake, hiding away from the halfbloods and only surfacing when they knew nobody was about.

It had been hot the day she’s first seen them, she noticed someone swimming near the rocks while they were meant to be training.

Clarisses younger sister had gone to the toilet half an hour ago and hadn’t been seen since and she thought that it must be her in the waters, skiving to have fun instead of her punishment for their recent loss in capture the flag.

She stormed over towards the figure, expecting her sister to appear clearer as she got closer, only to realise it wasn’t her sister at all, and this person didn’t appear to have legs.

She watched from afar at first, listening and looking to see if she could approach any further.

She had seen you, laying by the side of the beach, your tail laid in the water while the top half of you lounged in the sun on the rock side.

Your eyes were shut, sun bathing and relaxing while what looked like your brother, sat on the rock to your side, watching over the lot of you.

Your sisters were through the bushes, chatting and dancing around, their tails now gone and replaced with legs, and carrying them through the small area of forest they dared venture in.

She watched you for a while, standing hidden behind the trees, looking at your face which rested on your hands and shifted every-once in a while, watching your tail flicker and flow around in the water.

She wasn’t sure how long she was there, observing and waiting for you to do something, but she was shaken out of her thoughts when she heard your sister shouting your name. Waking you up and telling you that they were all leaving.

“Come on y/n” your brother told you as you woke up, “we’re going back”

“I’ll stay a little longer” you responded in a mumble groggily, resting your head back down on your arms again and turning away from your siblings.

Your sister dived into the water then, swimming back up to the surface to splash you with water, laughing, “come on, you’ve done enough sunbathing for today”

You splashed your tail in the water in response, hitting her with water and causing her to swim backwards and grumble.

“I don’t want to, I’ll leave later” you responded rolling your eyes and then closing them.

“We’re not leaving you out here alone” your brother stated simply, raising his eyebrows at you as you ignored him.

“I’ll be fine, promise” you stated, before pushing yourself up and around to face him in annoyance, “I swear, I’ll be fine, I’m sitting by the water, if anyone comes by I can just swim off”

Clarisse knew then it would be a bad idea to try talk to you. But she couldn’t help but want to, she hadn’t felt this way about anyone before, especially not by just looking at them.

She thought about it, and she wondered if maybe it was because you were a mermaid, like how the Aphrodite girls could make people fall in love with them with their charmspeak, perhaps you had a natural version of that?

She had heard of sirens before, tempting people to their deaths with their voices, making people fall so deeply in love with them they loose their senses.

Perhaps you were one of those. Well perhaps not a siren, while there were some dangerous creatures when provoked in the forest, Chiron would never allow sirens to lure campers to their deaths.

But a mermaid that made people fall in love with them? She supposed that made sense.

Yes, that had to be it, it was the only reason why she felt so compelled to watch you, to have the need to speak, to you to kiss you.

“Honest, I’ll be fine” you reassured again, one of the girls in the water, rolling their eyes and finally swimming off.

“Scream if you need help” the boy said in full seriousness, causing you to laugh at his behaviour.

“Oh stop being so dramatic” your sister spoke laughing, giving you a quick grin and diving into the lake.

“I will” you responded as you turned back around to go back to resting, ignoring your brothers overprotectiveness and letting him swim off.

You knew he had reason to be worried, all of you had a distaste for humans and halfbloods, but he knew you particularly had a big fear of them.

You had good reason to be, humans could be cruel, halfbloods in particular, some of them were bitter and hateful, their parents habits reflecting on children they hardly raised.

You’d experienced this cruelty first hand, and ever since, your siblings had been more protective over you, especially when you ventured to the shores of the lake you lived in.

Of course, not all halfbloods were like this, but it didn’t make you any less cautious, hiding in the hidden parts of the shore and avoiding them like the plague.

The only time you voluntarily spent time near halfbloods was when you were trying to save them. Being the one out of your siblings that tended to save the younger children from drowning the most.

You found when they couldn’t breathe, they were much nicer to be around.

You had calmed down again on your rock, relaxing under the sun on such a nice day, you stayed still there for quite a while before you heard a noise.

Clarisse hadn’t meant to step on anything, infact she was normally quite agile.

She had deciding to leave, realising it was beyond creepy that she had been staring at you in silence for as long as she had and that her siblings would be waiting for her, but stepped on a twig as she took her first step.

You jumped up quickly, turning to look around you in fear, noticing her in the trees, frozen with a pained expression on her face.

You went to jump away, flinching as she turned to face you beginning to apologise.

“W-wait stop, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to do that” Clarisse stuttered out, she didn’t know what was wrong with her, she never stuttered.

“I swear I’m not gonna hurt you…I just saw you in the distance and decided to see who was by the lake during training.

Against your better judgement, you stayed for a moment, watching and listening to her with wide eyes.

Clarisse could tell you were scared, despite the warmth you shook, and your hands clenched together onto one rock.

“I didn’t mean to scare you” Clarisse gently told you, “my names Clarisse…what’s your name?”

“I know what your name is” you mumbled, watching the girl like a hawk.

“You do?”

“You make the children do pushups by the lake” you stated quietly like it was obvious as to why she knew of you.

She looked confused at that, how many things must you have seen and she didn’t even know you were there for.

“You were there last week too” you told her, “you screamed”

Clarisse certainly didn’t need help to work out what the girl meant, everyone in camp had heard her scream, and everyone had been receiving the brunt of her anger since her spear had been broken by the new son of Poseidon.

After a long pause, you finally told her your name, Clarisse could tell you had relaxed a little, inching back to where you had originally sat rather than the edge of the rock as far as you could get from her.

You both chatted for a while, Clarisse with lots of questions and explanations, and you with short answers that slowly got a little longer.

You opened up as the time went on, still cautious but somewhat excited to have a friend that wasn’t one of your brothers or sisters.

Eventually you both decide it was time for you to go, both needing to get back to your siblings waiting on you, but Clarisse, not wanting to never see you again after this point, asked to meet again the next day.

Neither of you told anyone about your daily meet ups, you knew your siblings wouldn’t approve, stopping you from going up to the surface for a long time.

Clarisse knew she’d never tell anyone else, word would reach everyone in camp about a family of mermaids living in the lake in a matter of hours.

She also knew you had a large fear of other people. It was clear something had happened to you, and she had a feeling it had something to do with the camper that washed up to shore last summer.

She’d not gotten specifics from you, she always tried not to push you too far but she was so curious. She just put two and two together. The boy was horrid, rude to girls and she even had a couple of her younger sisters complain to her about him in the past, he wasn’t exactly missed by anyone when they found out he had drowned.

Of course she didn’t think you had done anything to him, not intentionally at least. you didn’t seem like you could even touch a half blood without trying to swim as far as you could.

However after observing your siblings around you for only a few minutes, she got the feeling they could certainly have been apart of it.

She knew she couldn’t let any of them know about you, they’d only hurt you and then all the progress you’d both made on her fear of half bloods would be for nothing.

So they continued to meet up on the daily. Sometimes you would wait until your siblings had left to transform your tail into legs, and meet with Clarisse slightly deeper into the woods.

Other times, she’d meet you by the shore, sneaking away after dinner and before bed, even letting you teach her how to swim.

It was a perfect summer, and it certainly helped Clarisse with dealing with the arrival and quick departure of Percy Jackson. And you with your loneliness and anxiety.

Now you just had to tell your siblings…

Ending is kinda shit but I didn’t know how to end it lol, Let me know if you’d like a part 2!! Feel like I have some more ideas but I have a series in the works so may focus on that instead

Taglist:

@slaggylemon @yourmom-25s-blog

[xxsabitoxx]

My Personal Upper Moon 🍆 Ranking

Warnings: if it isn’t obvious already, this post is taking about the Upper Moon’s and my personal HC on their dick sizes. If that makes you uncomfortable in any way, just keep scrolling

A/N: I was actually very surprised by the amount of comments on my Hashira version of this HC post. So I feel a little more comfortable with giving the Upper Moons a go, especially since someone asked if I would do it eheheh. That being said, these men are demons, therefore you may find my size rankings to be a bit unrealistic. But I’m not gonna go crazy and say Muzan has a dick that’s 2 miles long.

This post includes: Muzan, Kokushibo, Douma, Akaza, Hantengu’s clones (Karaku, Urogi, Sekido and Aizetsu), Gyutaro and Kaigaku. And no Gyokko cause that man doesn’t have a dick, period.

In a category of his own: Muzan Kibutsuji

Muzan clearly deserves a category of his own for one particular reason: he’s able to alter his appearance.

Therefore, he’s able to change the size of his dick whenever the fuck he feels like it.

And don’t try and say that stupid cause he can literally change gender and age so changing his dick size isn’t out of the question

On average, Muzan prefers to have a larger dick, mostly because he’s a pussy ass bitch man that needs that kind of confidence down there, if you get what I mean.

Typically soft: 10.5

Typically hard: 11.7

But he can make it as big, small, curved, wide, as he wants

When he wants to torture your ass, he’ll make himself as girthy as he sees fit just to watch you cry and squirm and beg for something a little smaller.

Anytime you get “comfortable” he just increases his girth until you’re crying again. Your pleasure is never his first priority, it’s always his.

1. Kokushibo

Among the demons, it should be no shock that Upper Moon One has always been packing. This man is petrifying so it’s only right that his dick is equally as intimidating as him

Even as a human, this man’s dick was deadly. You can’t change my mind either.

Just in case you’re wondering, Yoriichi is bigger

That’s beside the point, Kokushibo has a lot to work with down there. Whether it’s hard or soft ngl

When soft: 9.5

When hard: 10.7

He’s long, girthy and curves slightly upwards. He’s heavy too, your jaw will certainly hurt by the time you’re done with him.

He’s the type to put a pillow or blanket of some sort under your lower back as he fucks you. Mostly because he’s not clueless to the fact that his dick is big

Kokushibo is the type to ease you into it though, he’s stern but he has a teeny bit of empathy when it comes to fucking you. Unless you’ve pissed him off ofc.

2. Akaza

I know this one is gonna be controversial, especially since I’m putting him above Douma but hear me out.

This man has audacity, which means he got a big dick. No demon is acting like Akaza and having a small dick to go with it. Nuh uh, no sir.

Akaza is sitting pretty knowing damn well his cock is bigger than Douma’s and it actually something Douma taunts him with… which you think the roles would be reversed but hey…

When soft: 8.5

When hard: 9.7

He’s straight, no real curve to him and he has a single blue line going up the underside of his shaft and one that wraps around just before the head of his dick. Like as in the lines that cover his body lol

Akaza is probably the “gentlest” of all the upper moons because of the respect he has for women

That’s not to say he isn’t rough with you, but he definitely cares about your pleasure and feelings more than Douma or Muzan would for example

He’s pretty confident in himself though, at least that’s how it seems to you. He knows what he’s doing to say the least

3. Douma

Alright listen, this man is still packing down there so don’t get mad at me for putting him at third.

His dick is smaller than Akaza’s but not by a ton. Let’s be honest Douma is probably the straightest and gayest demon to ever exist. The embodiment of bisexual LMAO

How does Douma know Akaza’s dick is bigger? The world may never know

When soft: 8

When hard: 9.2

It’s pale like the rest of him, a pretty noticeable curve to it as well. He has some prominent veins because of how pale he is. His tip is like a pinkish gray (idk why I felt the need to include this)

He’s pretty girthy too, so he definitely will make your walls stretch uncomfortably if he doesn’t offer you foreplay

Douma is rough, selfish and truly only cares about his own pleasure but he likes watching you whine and squirm while being impaled on his cock

Douma also has a thing for “belly bulges” so he will fuck you in some odd positions if he means he can see his dick from the outside… if ya know what I mean

4. Gyutaro

Listen, plz just listen cause I promise you I’m going somewhere with this. Cause I can already hear y’all being like ???Scrawny ass Gyutaro is in 4th??? Yes. He is.

Gyutaro got himself a bit of an upgrade when becoming a demon. He for sure does not look like he did a a human. By that I mean he’s taller than he was (even tho he’s hunched)

What I’m tryna get at is demon transformation made his dick bigger and Imma live in my little fantasy world

When soft: 6.5

When hard: 7.2

Gyutaro’s dick is as curved as his spine and as thick as his tiny ass waist. He’s got length but not crazy girth.

Even if he’s rough, it feels good. Like there isn’t a ton of discomfort if he goes in raw with no prep cause he wants to punish you, he’s like the perfect amount of stretch

He’s mean, verbally and physically but at the same time he’s a fucking sucker for your body so he can’t really say much without whining and groaning

He’s got some confidence in his cock but he’s also a bit envious of the other upper moons

5. The Hantengu Clones (Sekido, Karaku, Aizetsu, Urogi)

I’ve talked about my dick HCs for these four in my A-Z NSFW alphabet and I was tryna be realistic. However, when it comes to this post, fuck being realistic.

Sekido when soft 6.2 | when hard 7.1

Karaku when soft 6 | when hard 6.9

Urogi when soft 5.9 | when hard 6.7

Aizetsu when soft 5.7 | when hard 6.5

There is so much to say here but honestly my brain is malfunctioning so I can’t even delve into it

Regardless, the four of these demons fuck very differently and use their dicks very differently

Sekido and Urogi have no curve, Karaku has a slight curve and Aizetsu’s curves upwards

Hantengu himself had a 3 inch dick and you can’t tell me otherwise. Pussy ass bitch

6. Kaigaku

I hate this little bitch but I’m including him so I can rag on his fugly ass. Kaigaku simps I’m sorry but I can’t stand him

This douche has the smallest dick among the upper moons. This is full Kaigaku slander.

When soft: 5.2

When hard: 6

I’ll give him a decent dick tho cause boy does he have the fucking audacity

That’s all I’m gonna give y’all cause I ain’t wasting my time on him GOOD BYE I didn’t even tag is ass

[akystaracer22]

Maybe in Another Life We Would Hate Each Other a Little Less

A chance encounter sheds a little light on Adam that Lucifer couldn't have predicted, leading to a moment he thought he'd never have with the man.

Notes (Aka my thoughts while writing):

God is a dick and I wanna kill xem

Adam folds his wings like a bird because monkey see monkey do

Both these guys were traumatised by the same person and we don’t talk about it enough

Probably Guitarduck/Adamsapple but in a fledgeling platonic kinda way

Refer to my ref for what Adam looks like!

I listened to Rät while writing this and- it kind of fits Adam???

Jesus is God’s favourite child and it fucking shows

How tf did this become a sickfic????

Lucifer gets the experience of being me whenever I make the impulsive move to boot up Char.ai and talk to literally any of the AI’s, get aunt agonied bitch.

Oh my god Adam has middle child syndrome.

Can you tell I attended a Christian school when I was younger???

Adam was hiding just how fucked over he was from the wing rot but he’s not having a good time in this. Most of the latter half of the oneshot is him dazed from both the one set of wing rot and the feeling of someone touching his wing.

Shit emergency wing HC for Adam ig: His wings grow warmer corresponding to his mood, as in when he is in general happier his wings radiate warmth and when he’s in a foul mood they’re just normal or even a little cooler.

In saying that yes Lucifer’s wings glow when he’s happy

Word Count: 1902

Fic under cut!

“Fucking- Shit!”

Lucifer paused, looking behind him and backing up to peek through the crack in the door. This ought to be good.

Sure enough, he was right, this was entertaining.

Adam was ranting again.

Honestly it was a nearly daily thing by this point, probably the only good thing about his daughters decision to let Adam stay at the hotel. He loved his daughter, he really did, by Adam was… Adam.

Lucifer knew he was a lost cause.

But still, didn’t mean Lucifer couldn’t tease the hell out of the man since he was stuck down here with the rest of them.

Lucifer’s smirk at watching the first man rant quickly died as he took in the guys appearance, he looked…

“What is wrong with your wings.”

Adam jerked and twisted around, scowling at him and oops he said that out loud didn’t he.

“Piss off!”

Lucifer, in his typical fashion, did not piss off and instead entered the room, “No seriously what is wrong with your wings.”

Now that he was closer, the king was certain they didn’t look like that a week ago. The feathers, while already having looked like a wreck were duller and the colours seemed almost… muted. Ignoring the already horrific state Adam’s wing were in, they shouldn’t look THAT bad so why…

“Wait-”

“I said-!”

“Have you not been preening you wings?”

Adam went silent, staring wide eyed at Lucifer much to the kings confusion. A beat passed, then two.

“What the fuck is preening?”

Lucifer blinked, he wasn’t serious, was he?

Surely not.

.

.

.

“By the heavens you’re dead serious.”

“What the fuck are you talking about.”

Lucifer debated whether he should explain it or not. On one hand, it’s Adam. On the other, Wings were a serious thing. He’d even seen Husker cleaning his wings from time to time, for Adam to just not know…

“You know what? For once my hatred of you is outweighed by my need to show you what’s what,” The fallen seraphim huffed, closing the door behind him and summoning a chair to block it from the outside so Adam couldn’t escape. “Come on we’re fixing this travesty.”

“What part of fuck off you do you not understand?!” The first man snapped, his wings mantling as Lucifer rifled through the closet, dragging out one of the many jars of oil he’d had the foresight to put in most of the rooms, perks of being a guy with basic common sense.

“The part where you’re being stupid and my daughter started rubbing off on me,” Lucifer shot back, his own wings serving well to corral Adam towards the bed, “How you don’t know how to preen your wings is beyond me but that’s ending today.”

“Again- what are you blabbering about.”

Lucifer paused, hand hovering just over Adams feathers. Preening someone elses wings was… intimate. It was something reserved for friends, family, lovers, and stuff… not enemies. Was he really going to just go ahead and clean Adams wings for him?

The seraphim’s eyes flicked over to where the ruined wing was draped over the bed. The wing was already in bad enough shape as it was, if he didn’t do this then wing rot was bound to hit it at some point and-

He didn’t really have a choice, not if he didn’t want to watch someone die of wing rot again.

Adam went stiff under Lucifers touch as he started work on the mans functioning wing, it was the easiest to work with, not the mention the safest to start with. The injured wing would no doubt be sensitive to any interaction, so better to start small.

Ish.

Adam shuddered as Lucifer moved between feather’s, periodically reapplying preening oil as he went. He was right as usual, looking closer most of the barbules had been separated and needed to be locked together again. Grimacing, the seraphim gently scratched out what looked like dried blood from where it was hidden in the base of Adam’s Secondary coverts.

“What are you doing?” Adam whispered, his voice for once lacking it’s usual bite. Lucifer paused for a second in confusion before Adam’s wing flexed back into Lucifer’s hand, “Don’t stop!”

“Okay okay!” The king huffed, working on his primaries, “What I’m doing is called preening. It’s something beings with feathers do to clean them.”

“Like birds?”

“Yeah, like birds,” Lucifer agreed, “The oil helps take care of bacteria, but you got to realign the feathers, get rid of the ones ready to moult, and fix the feathers that are out of sorts, though you can just shake the feathers to do that part quicker.”

“Mhm”

Lucifer shifted over to finally tackle the ruined wing and froze, a chill slinking down his spine. As he took in the state of the tattered appendage.

“Shit.”

This close the seraphim could see the red pimples under the thinning layer of feathers surrounding the injury, it was wing rot in its early stages.

“What?”

“Nothing!” Lucifer dove his fingers into the scapulars to shut Adam up while he discreetly conjured up some disinfectant for the rot, if he’s lucky he can treat it now and just get Charlie or Vaggie to deal with it now, knock it over the head before it becomes so visible the others can notice. He ignored Adam’s breath hitching as the seraphim started, just as predicted, the wing was sensitive from the damage done to it.

“But seriously you need to do this more, this is just horrific,” Lucifer grumbled to himself, not really caring if Adam listened, “Honestly I’m surprised this hasn’t happened to you before!”

“Mmmm tried once… I think?”

Lucifer, glanced at Adam’s face, it was pointed away from him, but he could still sense Adam’s attention was on him, “Yeah?”

“Saw the birds doin’ it and tried to copy ‘em,” Adam continued at the prompt, spreading his other wing, “It hurt so I stopped, didn’ know there was a method to this shit or someth’n.”

“You… nobody even tried to teach you?”

“I think they thought I knew,” Adam chuckled sourly, “I think they thought I fu’kin knew how to just- do this. ‘Cause I was meant to right?!” Another laugh, “I bit the fu’kin apple so I shou’da known this kinda shit! Apple of knowl’dge or what’ver.”

Lucifer, wisely, didn’t say anything, he just kept working on Adam’s ruined wing, applying the disinfectant, and fixing what few feathers were still healthy and removing the rest. If it was anyone else in this situation he’s wrap the wing and tell them to rest but… it was still Adam that was in this mess.

“I- why didn’t they teach me? Luci why didn’t they teach me this shit?”

“I… don’t know,” Lucifer replied carefully, deliberately skipping over the butchering of his name that sounded way to close to a nickname for comfort, “Come on, up you get he still got the underside to finish then I’ll be out.”

Adam grumbled but complied, sitting up a little to turn around as Lucifer summoned a pillow for Adam to lean back on. Rolling his neck Lucifer got to work on the auxiliary feathers, the lighter feathers were definitely in better shape, but then again that wasn’t exactly a high bar, and they still were looking rough.

“Jesus was prob’bly taught how to preen himself.”

Lucifer’s shoulders hitched as his wings tucked in against his back abruptly. Jesus… was a rough topic. For all sinners talked about him, Lucifer never met him but from the sinners around that time… it was never a fun conversation. Pretentious once kings cursing his name while hopeless commoners lined up for the exorcists blade, faithful until the end that Jesus would let them into heaven if they just believed in him.

… there was a pattern in there, wasn’t there. Like father like son, he supposed.

“Jesus was made from me and yet he’s God’s favourite fukin kid, course he’d fucking know how to preen,” Adam continued unimpeded, “Doesn’t matter if I was Gods first- Jesus was always fucking better than me.”

Okay! Lucifer was in no way prepared for this conversation, but he highly doubted Adam was even going to remember this conversation, so he just focused on the wings.

“…Luci, do they all hate me?”

Lucifer sincerely wished Anthony, or just anyone really would bust down the door at this moment, at least then he could get himself out of this conversation.

“Why do you think that?” the seraphim deflected, moving onto Adam’s good wing and going through his coverts.

“Because none of them ever fucking did this,” Adam waved his hand haphazardly before letting it rest on his chest, “You’re my enemy but you’re fixin’ my fu’kin wings because I’m too stupid and useless to just figure it out myself.”

“Not useless,” The words left Lucifer’s lips without his input, damn himself to double hell, but it managed to shut up Adam, so he kept on the thought train, “You’re not useless you were just never taught, it’s not your fault heaven doesn’t think.”

“Jesus-”

“Is God’s prodigal son and shouldn’t be counted.”

Adam huffed and leaned back on the pillow, “Why’re you good at this?”

“I’ve had aeon’s to learn, and over a decade of putting it in practice,” Lucifer thought about his daughter, a small smile making it’s way into his expression, she really was the best thing to happen to him.

He finished up with Adams good wing and moved onto finishing off the wrecked one. Applying the disinfectant to the infected spots on the underside before reaching for the preening oil again.

“Y’know, maybe in another life we would’ve hated each other less.”

Lucifer just laughed and started preening the wing, yeah right, maybe in a reality where the apple incident never happened, “You’re sick Adam, feverish even.”

“And you’re a wife-stealer.”

“Should have been better in bed.”

“Fuck you,”

Lucifer stuck his tongue out at the first man, earning a tired chuckle. Then the seraphim blinked at the sudden warmth radiating out from the feathers. What in the-?

“Oh… they haven’t done that in a while.”

Lucifer blinked up at Adam who was staring at his feathers in amazement, “Ackde-whuh?”

Adam leaned back and closed his eyes, “Yeah… sometimes they just get warm all of a sudden it’s weird. Hasn’t happened in a while though. Apparently it sometimes happened when Lute was around? I dunno why.”

Lucifer blinked a couple of times before letting out a small “huh” and running a hand through the ruined wing, it was definitely warmer.

Sighing, Lucifer let his hand fall away despite the wing chasing it, “Alright well your wings are definitely cleaner now, so I’ll be out of your hair now.”

The seraphim stood up to leave through the balcony, opening the window and almost stepping out when Adam called after him, still sounding exhausted.

“I can see why they left me for you.”

Lucifer paused, before smiling sardonically and looking back at Adam, who looked like he might have just passed out.

“Tell me that when you’re not delusional from illness and I might believe you.”

With that, Lucifer stepped out and left for his own room… though, if Adam woke up to a small plush duck on his nightstand, that was between Lucifer and the god that cast him down.

But there is one thing Lucifer will admit.

Maybe Charlie wasn't wrong about thinking Adam could be redeemed.

Pings:

@sleepy-hijinx @whatataha @cyborg0109 @birbisanon @legogator @overlord-rey @luckyburgerz @spiny-dogfishes @justakidicarus

[fangisms]

summertime at the burrow

A/N: i want to be an honorary weasley please im literally begging. notice me molly weasley

Pairings: Best Friend!Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Fred finally invites his best friend home over summer holiday. Neither of you expected it to go so well. 3.7k words.

Warnings: fluff, best friends to lovers, ungodly amount of shenanigans, friendly bullying/teasing, mud wrestling, kissing, (friendly) violence, pet names (trouble, snookums, sugarplum, sweetheart), cursing, borderline frog abuse

"Good morning, trouble."

You hop into the seat next to him that he’d been saving for you. In fact, he’d been saving it for you since the first time you plopped down beside him after the sorting hat declared your house first year. You laughed when he shook your hand. He thought you had the cutest smile. Then you teased him for his devilish charm and he called you catty, and you’ve been teasing each other ever since.

"Are you packed and ready?” He sounds more worried than that time he nearly shattered his collar bone during a vicious Quidditch scrimmage. “We're leaving bright and early tomorrow. Mum says she's preparing a hearty lunch for our guests." Fred scarfs down the rest of his breakfast and turns to look at you to find you're looking back at him in bewilderment.

"Somebody's excited," you tease, ruffling his fiery locks and glancing over at George with a grin.

"If you think this is bad, you should see him before winter holidays," George huffs.

“I have.”

Fred rolls his eyes at you and you jab him in the side.

"Where are the lot of you off to?" Lee perks up from across the table, setting his plate down and wiggling his way between Alicia and Angelina.

"I finally got my honorary invite to the Weasley burrow this summer," you chirp, wrapping your arm over Fred's shoulders and leaning him into your side.

Lee cocks a brow and smirks at a suddenly and uncharacteristically shy Fred. "Well, it's about time! You've only been dating for—"

You shake your head. "No, not dating, Lee. I swear we've been over this—"

"Oh, we've been over it plenty. I just choose to ignore wicked witches when they lie—!"

You practically leap across the table with your teeth gritted to grab for his robes when you're stopped by the laughing twins holding you back from tearing into him. "Lee Jordan, you take that back right now, or so help me your mother will wonder why your hair's gone purple!"

"I'm not going to apologize for being lied to!"

"Let me at him! I'm trying to defend my honor here!"

"Miss—young lady!”—McGonagall appears behind you, sending you into shock and barreling back onto the bench—“Settle down! You're frightening the first years, and we typically prefer they come back in the fall."

"Apologies, professor, I was simply trying to have a friendly discussion with my classmate," you say, gesturing to Lee who smiles begrudgingly.

"Right, well, from now on, let's have our discussions from across the furniture, not on top of it." She wanders away, and you turn to stick your tongue out at Lee who is doubled-over and cackling at your being caught.

“I hope you know, we’re going to receive the same third-degree from my dear mother,” Fred mumbles in your ear. His heart races when you turn to him, a playful glint in your eye. You blink sweetly and rest your hand on his knee when he tucks his arm around your lower back. “But don’t worry, sugarplum, it’s never too late to try.”

He winks. Your eyes go wide, and you shove at his shoulder with a chuckle disguised by a scoff.

“Scabbers not the only rat in the Weasley family, I see.”

“That is exactly what I’m talking about, there’s no way you two are just friends—”

A slice of ham sticks to Lee’s cheek with a cold, wet slap as you eye him from across the table.

“Don’t listen to him, snookums, he just doesn’t understand our complicated arrangement,” Fred says, nudging your cheek with his nose and holding back laughter.

“Gross,” George mutters, grinning before he’s met with the same lunchmeat backhand his friend so rudely received. “Suppose I could’ve predicted that one.”

…

You wipe the sweat from your brow, slinging your carry-on over your shoulder before bending down to pick up your trunk. You’re trailing behind most of the rest of the group, just a few steps behind the twins while their younger siblings charge ahead through the field with Harry and Hermione. Fred checks in with you every couple of meters, making sure you don’t need any serious medical attention.

Once the twins breach the front door, you take a seat outside on your trunk, fanning yourself with your hand and throwing your head back. Then you hear:

“Fred, you better get out there and help that poor girl with her things!”

“Sorry, mum!”

You chuckle when he appears in the doorway moments later, winded as ever, hair plastered to his forehead, and still grinning wildly as he jogs over.

“What’s a lovely young lady like yourself doing outside all alone on such an unbearably hot afternoon?”

“Sweating like swine.”

“Ravishing,” he teases, shooing you off the suitcase, “head inside, mum’s absolutely itching to meet you.”

So you do. You can see her welcoming her children and their friends alike, and it fills you with the warmth of fresh gingerbread and the nerves of a teenage boy during school dance season.

“My dear!” she coos, arms outstretched even though a thin year of sweat coats every inch of your body, even though you’ve been wearing these clothes for a day, and even though you’re breathing heavy like a dog. She’s got her arms outstretched like you’re family.

“I’ve heard so much about you from Fred, and, goodness, you’re even prettier than he said you’d be!” —She gasps when he walks through the door, hauling your trunk in tow—“Don’t tell him I told you.”

“It’s been five minutes and you two are already sharing secrets about me. Only seven more days, Freddie,” he mumbles, setting the trunk down with a thud.

“Oh, well! It’s wonderful to finally meet you, dear, Ginny will show you to your room and lunch will be ready once you’re all settled!”

“Thank you, Mrs Weasley—”

“Oh, none of that, call me Molly.”

Your brows knit when she smiles at you so gently before making her way back to the kitchen.

“Thank you, Molly!”

Fred hops up from where he’d been relaxing on an armchair, clapping you on the arm with a reassuring smile.

“Everything processing alright up there?”

You nod.

“Peachy. Now give me a smile, you’re scaring me.”

You squint at him and pinch his arm, simpering when he hisses and swats your dry-gulching fingers away.

“That’ll do!”

“We’re up this way,” Ginny chirps as she rushes by and tugs you by the hand up the stairs.

Fred watches after you, rubbing his arm with a mean look on his face just before his playful resentment fades and his affections settle into the apples of his cheeks. This is going to be a long seven days.

…

Fred had never invited anyone to stay at the burrow. He preferred the company of his close family and whoever his mother deemed Weasley-enough herself. But he’d been saving this invitation. It stewed in the back of his mind for years before he mustered up the courage to offer it to you.

Ridiculous. That’s how it sounded in his head: ridiculous. If he wanted to ask you, he should have done it at the first chance. That’s what Fred would do. But he could never bring himself to get the words out whenever he swore to himself today would be the day. Because you’d just look at him with those damned doe eyes—you’d test his boundaries and make him all gushy inside—and it was like he was suddenly turned to a tongue-tied and pathetic halfwit.

And now here you are. An unofficial part of his family. But nevertheless a part of it. You’d found the annual Weasley strawberry-picking trip to be wonderful despite Fred pulling cheap pranks on you and the fact that it was basically sweltering outside. When you returned, you all spread out in the family room with bowls of the dewy berries in each of your laps. Everyone claimed a seat while you and Fred were forced to share the hardwood floor. You ended up tossing the small fruits into each other’s mouths with your legs laid across his thighs.

At one point, he lands one of the berries down your blouse. Almost immediately, he starts to laugh, clutching his chest while you gawk at him.

“You better start running, trouble.”

He gulps and scampers to his feet before scurrying out the front door. You take off after him, shouting curses into the wind when he rounds a corner.

You follow his footsteps but he’s nowhere to be seen.

“I swear, if I ever get my hands on you—”

He grabs your waist from behind you, dipping down to whisper in your ear. “You can put your hands on me whenever you’d like, sugarplum—”

“Merlin’s Beard, Fred! You scared the shit out of me!”

You jolt away, and he thinks you look genuinely angry this time. But he smiles and your features soften. Then you’re after him again, bounding into the tall grass with an uproar of laughter.

…

You spend the next few days of your vacation trying to beat Ron at chess then deciding it may be better if you and Harry team up to try and beat Ron at chess. You also take Ginny and Hermione shopping while the gaggle of boys trail behind the three of you grumbling and whining about missing their beloved Quidditch game.

You offer to help Molly with every meal, and she only accepts once you convince her your desserts are a crowd favorite back home. She’s proud to say she’s impressed, and she grows even prouder when you admit you adore big families like hers and see at least two kids of your own in your future.

Arthur takes a liking to you after you listen to him rave about the kind of items muggles use day-to-day and how fascinating their modern technology has become in recent years. He’s thrilled to find you actually take interest in his tinkering and collections and whatnot.

But most of all, you spend your time at the burrow with Fred. He steals you away after meals and keeps you up late to teach you his favorite charms. One overcurious evening finds you two perched together on the bathroom floor whispering and giggling while you brush a bold smokey-eye onto his eyelids. Let’s just say dinner that night was nothing short of hilarious: a look that Fred will never live down.

On the fifth morning, you jostle him awake. He whines about the sun not even being up yet while you drag him down the steps and shove your socked feet into an extra pair of rubber boots.

“What’s the bucket for?” he whispers, traipsing down the path along the side of the house when you stop dead in your tracks.

“Shh!” You press your gloved finger to his lips. A chorus of croaks erupts from the marsh beside the house. Nothing out of the ordinary for Fred, in fact that sound had often soothed him to sleep. But there’s a dangerous glint in your eye that tells him you’re on a mission.

“Can’t we do this when the sun is up? It’s cold and I’m tired—”

“The faster we catch ‘em, the faster we can go back to bed,” you whisper as your boot sinks into the edge of the muddy body of water. He sighs and sinks in next to you with his hands on his hips.

“I can’t believe you’ve convinced me to do this. You’re lucky you’re so pretty or you’d never get away with anything.”

You purse your lips and wade a little further out, looking out at the cooly rippling water beneath the sliver of sunrise.

“Yes, I would,” you say, quietly but so matter-of-fact he’s inclined to believe you.

Just then you spring into action, shoveling a small frog into your bucket with a victorious grunt. A few minutes later, he shuffled over to you and lowers his cupped palms into your bucket: three more frogs settle down into the center with a wet plop. You beam up at him, and it’s worth the early morning trouble to see you so happy and have you so close.

“So what do you plan on doing with these poor creatures once we’re done?”

You sit on the bank of the waterbed, sighing and setting the bucket beside you. He watches you from the water while you examine the small blob of darkness in the center of your palm. The bottom of the bucket is lined with croaking frogs, and the sun is well above the horizon, dousing the sky in soft pink and warm rose.

“I’m going to let them go.”

He lets out a sharp breath, hands falling to his sides, leaving streaks of mud down his tee shirt.

“You’re joking.”

You look up at him. You’re not joking.

“No,” he huffs. “You did not drag me out of my nice, warm bed to catch a million slimy frogs in the freezing cold dark just to let them go again.”

“Oh, but I did.” You’re crazy, he thinks. You’re crazy and it’s the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. Doesn’t make you any less crazy, though it might make him much less sane.

You set the frog down in the grass and leave the bucket tipped over. The small creatures immediately flood out from the splotchy tin opening into the newborn daylight and the crisp morning air. You stand and wipe your hands against each other a few times, scrunching your nose and finally meeting his eyes again.

“What’s wrong, trouble? Cat got your tongue?”

You grin.

“You know, one of these days, I’m going to say ‘no’ to you, and it’ll be a rude awakening.”

Fred walks past you like he’s really mad. Like it was an uncrossable line and you treated it like the tape at the end of a marathon. He’s hulking back towards the house when you grab his wrist to get his attention.

“What?”

But you don’t look sad. You don’t look pitiful or hurt. You look like you’re scheming, and it drives him crazy. As if he could ever say ‘no’ to you.

“You think I’m pretty,” you coo, batting your lashes just to get on his nerves. His breath hitches, and he feels warm despite the nipping cold of the morning.

“Unrelated.”

You drop his hand and cross your arms over your chest with a pout. He continues leisurely toward the burrow, tossing his gloves to the ground with a huff of hot air.

“Fred?” you call. And you sound worried, so he’s compelled to whip around. But when he does, he’s met with a rude awakening.

It was a misstep. A silly mistake, the wrong footing. Easily avoidable, and yet he didn’t avoid it. So he’s ass-first into a mud puddle with you shrieking in laughter about a meter away.

“You’re awful,” he grumbles, both hands propping him up and seeping into the thick mud as seconds tick by.

“I’m sorry! Freddie, I’m so sorry,” you cackle, taking a few steps toward him with tears of joy in your eyes. “But you should have seen your face!”

“Help me up,” he says, shaking his head and wiping his hand down his pajama pants before holding it outstretched to you. You grab it and tug enough to leverage him out of the muck. But he doesn’t budge. And in that moment, your eyes are filled with fear. Then, with one jolt, you topple down into the mud right beside him.

“Fred!”

“An eye for an eye, sugarplum.”

You push yourself up onto your hands to find your entire front is caked in mud, the mess narrowly avoiding your chin and above.

“You’re going to pay for that.”

“Oh, bring it on,” Fred teases.

You smirk just before a handful of mud is smeared across his chest by your slippery glove.

“Your move, trouble.”

He shakes his head and chuckles, looking down at the abstract art work fondly. But not quite fondly enough to hold himself back. His fingers dig into the puddle determinedly just before patting the top of your head with it like a stray dog. You squint your eyes closed and groan before peeking one eye open and coating his cheek in mud.

You make it to your feet and Fred hurls a ball of mud at your ass but he misses and it lands in the grass in front of you. You bolt around the back of the house, but he hurls a hunk towards your shoulder blade. You yelp and shout at him:

“You’re supposed to be a gentleman!”

“I’ll show you a gentleman, sweetheart,” he hollers it just before he catches up to you. You squeal and nearly slip on a slick patch of grass, but before you can leap out of his reach, he grabs your upper arm and presses you against the tree just behind your back.

“That’s not playing fair, Freddie, I’ve got nowhere to run,” you say, breathlessly grasping at the edge of his shirt with a tired smile. He chuckles and plants one palm against the bark beside your head, bringing the other hand to cup the side of your neck.

“You don’t need to run anywhere,” he mumbles, “just stay here.” The dried mud on the pad of his thumb draws a swipe of dirt down your cheek. Your fingers curl around his wrist and your lips part sweetly when he leans in.

“Time to come inside, you two! Breakfast is ready!”

Your eyes go wide when he leans his forehead against the tree with a grumbled curse.

“I suppose I am quite peckish!” you chirp, dragging him along behind you all the way to the front door. You leave your boots and gloves outside and brush some of the dried dirt from your pajamas.

You sit across from him at breakfast and catch him stealing glances at you every so often. With a mouth full of food, you wink at him with a dirt-smeared face and almost make him spit out his juice when you kick him under the table. George teases the two of you about wrestling in the mud while Molly scolds Fred about tracking it into the house.

…

Before long, you’re facing the final night of your stay. You’d been dreading the end since the beginning, and now that it’s here, you’re heartbroken. It’s been nothing but fun and you’ve never felt so wonderfully vulnerable with so many people around.

But the thing you’ll miss most is Fred. He could sense you pulling away the last couple of days. Trying to shield yourself from the impact of reality. No matter how hard he tried to cheer you up, he knew nothing could stop you thinking about how much packing up and leaving would hurt.

With your things splayed out across the floor of your temporary room, you had started packing hours ago but kept finding ways to distract yourself and avoid the idea of leaving altogether.

“Need any help?” Fred knocks on the doorframe, leaned against it and wearing the blue jumper you once told him he looked best in. You smile up at him from the floor.

“No,” you huff, “but some company would be nice.”

He perks up and shuffles around your belongings to plant himself on the edge of the bed. You had made the bed up nicely, tucked the duvet and set the pillows out nicely. He told you you didn’t have to, but you did it anyways.

After a few minutes of folding and refolding the same shirt, you stand from the floor and join him on the bed. He’s leaned back onto his elbows when he nudges your foot with his. You nudge him back but don’t turn to look at him. So he sits up and bumps you with his shoulder.

“I’m going to miss you,” he says, fussing with the edge of your shorts to distract himself, “Being here, I mean. As a part of our family.”

You smile down at his fiddling fingertips and inch closer, looking at him with this half-sad, half-happy look that has him confused and hopeless and head over heels and confused.

“I had a really, really nice time,” you whisper, leaning your head onto his shoulder and letting your eyes drift closed.

“So…”

You chuckle and smile to yourself, “So…?”

You sit up when the floor rattles a little, a thudding coming from the room below you. Then George shouts.

“Get it over with already!”

You both look at each other and giggle. Fred leans back again and you watch him tilt his head back and let out a sigh. His chest rises and falls beneath that damned blue sweater, and you trace your fingertips over his knuckles. He lifts his head and smiles cheekily at you, like he knows what’s going on inside your head. Like he has any idea. And for once, you think he might be pretty close.

You practically tackle him to the bed, smiling against his mouth when he cradles your face in one hand and rests the other on your waist where your shirt had ridden up from the ruckus.

You pepper soft kisses over his blushing face, leaving faintly glossy lip prints on his cheeks and nose and forehead and a stray one on the column of his neck. He goes slack against the bed, satisfied and content and happy all because of you. But still, he lazily opens his eyes and grins mischievously and says:

“Took you long enough.”

You smack your hand against his chest just hard enough to warn him.

“Oh, you’re trouble, Weasley.”

He cups your hand against his warm chest and his smile ebbs from mischief to something not as easily recognized. Something that makes him shy and pink thanks to the girl who likes the freckles across the bridge of his nose in the summer and his hands even when they’re covered in mud. Love that makes him much less sane for the girl who might just be crazy for loving him back.

And all of it makes him hold your hand and lean up to kiss you one more time.

masterlist

[izvmimi]

cw: fluff. pop star!bakugou. prior breakup mention. based on the story behind the eyes, nose, lips mv, iykyk.

Even if you guys are closer than can be, your friends are typically more likely to text before they call, especially at this time of night, and less likely are they to accost you in a sudden video call the way they are now. You were asleep, just by stroke of luck waking up to the sound of your phone vibrating on your end table, too exhausted to put your phone on Do Not Disturb. It’s just a few minutes after midnight, 12:06 am to be exact, and when you pick up the phone, both of them appear frantic.

“Oh, thank God.”

“___, please tell me you’re away from a phone right now.”

“Dumbass, we’re literally calling her on the phone right now.”

“Don’t call me a dumbass.”

Still rubbing your eyes, you let out a sigh.

“Why did you two call me?” You’re still horizontal, trying to orient yourself while lowering your phone brightness. It’s entirely dark in your room, and you’ve been exhausted all day between errands and other activities, including a single 25 minute cry over your failed relationship.

It’s been 3 months since you and Katsuki split, and while you’ve overall been handling it quite well, intermittently the sadness overtakes you. After all, it was abrupt.

Dating a pop star was not all it’s cracked up to be, especially when it ends abruptly over a dinner you could never afford yourself with the words “take care of yourself, okay?” from a man you’d planned the rest of your life with. The last thing you’d asked him to do before that was to go public, and he’d been hesitant to, and you don’t know what happened between then and that night, because it all ended all too quickly, with you crying on the limo ride home. 

3 months later and you were almost over it until you chanced on a photo you’d forgotten to hide away in your digital memoirs and proceeded to sob.

“So uh… have you spoken to Katshole recently?”

You roll your eyes at the nickname your friend has given him, not bothering to tell her now to be nice. “No.”

It still annoys you. “Please stop calling him that.”

“Fine.”

Your other friend sighs.

“So uh, anyway, he dropped a video.” You raise your eyebrow.

“I mean, sure. Is the girl in it hot?” you ask. You pretend you haven’t been looking at his social media intermittently, trying to see if there was someone new in his life, but either way Katsuki prided himself on keeping his private life hidden away, so you wouldn’t be able to tell unless it was someone equally famous or advantageous to his career.

Your two friends both grimace at the same time. One says, “I mean yes, but not in the way you think.”

You blink.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You’re up and seated now, bedsheets pulled to your lap. You’ve minimized the video and are now typing his name into Google, and can see, indisputably, that he’s posted a new music video.

“Why did you guys wake me up for this?”

“Babe, listen to me carefully. If you’re not ready to get back together, do not click this video.”

Your heart thumps, while both of your friends watch you with bated breath, as your face contorts, trying to figure out what that means.

“I-”

“You’re in the video.”

You blink rapidly, your eyebrows still furrowed together, as your heart rate starts to pick up. Your mouth opens then closes.

You’re in the video.

“She’s done for,” one of your friends says, reading the look on your face, and sighs. “I’m gonna hang up, I’ll see you in the morning.”

All of you say your goodnights, and of course, you remain up, your face basking in the blue light of your cell phone, as you watch Katsuki’s urgent music video supposedly with you in it.

The video culminates in Katsuki, standing by a painted mural, and you recognize the photo, an image of your face from the first time he flew you out to paint in Italy, something that would have won any girl over just from the expense and planning, but won you over because he chose you as his model, because you can still remember how his lips parted as he mixed the right colors for your hair.

I’m sorry, please pick up my call, the video closes with the words written in his handwriting, and said with his voice, and you can feel the tears streaming down your face as you wordlessly cry.

And then your phone rings.

[reiderwriter]

hi 💖 I’m literally ✨obsessed✨ with your writing atm and I’ve never done a request before so I thought this would be the perfect opportunity!!

I would love to read an established couple fic where reader drops by !professor spencer’s office and spicy times ensue 🌶️👀 the trope where reader is inexplicably jealous of the girls auditing his class gets me every 🤌 single 🤌 time 🤌 (but don’t feel like you have to include that trope!! I’m a sucker for any !professor spencer smut lmao)

- 🐺 anon

A/N: Thank you sm for your request!! I am also slightly unhinged about Professor Spencer (I think this is my second one this month lmao) so I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: use of sir, degradation, fingering, no contraception, PinV sex, semi-public sex, jealous reader (she's like 27 beefing with undergrads), age-gap (15 years), Spencer keeps a souvenir of her visit 😊. Also I don't even know if American lecturers have office hours, so like... For context I am a European living in SK lmao. 18+ MINORS DNI

W/C: ~2k

Check out my masterlist!!

You’d lost count of how many times you’d visited Spencer in his office now that he’d started lecturing semi-regularly. The break from his regular activities as a member of the BAU suited him well, and you had no complaints either, loving having an excuse to drop by the college campus he was based on to visit the cute student-run coffee shops and explore the space. And since you’d started working from home while you wrote your novel, you definitely had the time to visit.

Usually, you’d find him in some lecture theatre or the other, but having walked around all his regularly scheduled rooms, he was nowhere in sight. You shrugged a little, figuring that he must be in his office if he was nowhere else. You were right, of course, but he wasn’t exactly alone.

A line of undergrads had formed at his door as you noticed the sign pinned to his door mentioned his updated office hours for the semester in the run-up to finals week. Typical. You were never the best-timed person, and you could see that you weren’t going to get his attention for a while from the look of all the students. You waited outside for him to open the door and summon the next student into his office, settling onto a couch opposite his door.

You weren’t trying to listen in to the multiple conversations going on, but you couldn’t help it when they were being so loud and open.

“God, he’s so fucking hot, I just want him to bend me over that desk and-”

“-wonder if he’s single. If he is, I’m totally going to make a move-”

“-I just know it’s big-”

“- in that lecture about the serial rapist, all I could think about was his hands-”

You blushed a little deeper with each of their confessions. They didn’t know who you were, of course they didn’t, and you sure as hell weren’t going to tell them. But now you knew why it was that they were here, and honestly, you couldn’t blame them for lusting after the man, you’d done the same thing. Your relationship had started in a similar way. You’d knocked on the doors of the FBI with a case back when you were a journalist, and been met with those big brown eyes and it had taken your entire strength to not jump him then and there.

So you understood. But you didn’t have to like it, and you certainly did not. The longer you sat there, the older you felt, constantly resisting the urge to yell at these kids in an old maid's way. Gods he was old enough to be some of these girls’ fathers. You weren’t exactly close in age with him yourself, a gap of about 15 years separating the two of you, but come on.

The door to his office finally cracked open, and you followed the sound of his voice, still rambling out facts as he let the student out.

“Now that you have the difference between stressor and trigger down, you’ll find it easier to interpret some of the readings, just keep in mind that sometimes they can be one and the same.” The student nodded and thanked him before leaving, a slightly disappointed look shadowing her face.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” His smile lit up the second he saw you, and you held out the coffee you’d bought him earlier to him.

“Thought I’d drop in and see you. I missed you.” Maybe it was petty of you in front of literal teenagers and people who couldn’t even legally drink yet, but you wrapped a hand around his waist, underneath his suit jacket, and looked up at him with a big grin, fluttering your eyelashes. He looked at you with knotted eyebrows, trying to decode your words as if they were the key to cracking a case he was working on.

You felt the eyes of the students burning into you, heard them whispering to each other and your grin deepened. You’d marked your territory successfully.

“I’m sorry, I’ve got office hours for the next 25 minutes, do you mind waiting?” He looked apologetically down at you, speaking with a bit of an awkward tone, not used to the notable PDA.

“That’s fine. I can wait out here, right?” You asked, trying to give him your most innocent look. He nodded his assent, and you returned to your seat, grabbing a book from your bag and settling in as he welcomed the next student to his office.

An hour later, all the students had finally dispersed. A fair few of them had given up after you made your identity known, embarrassingly slinking away from the queue, but a fair few had stuck it out, still just wanting a glimpse of him. The conversation had dimmed though, now back on the topic of college parties and TikTok stars or something.

When the final student slipped out of the office, you jumped up enthusiastically and joined Reid inside, letting yourself in with a small knock and a sing-song “professor.”

He was sat at his desk, glasses perched on his nose looking down at some papers, and looking as attractive as he had the day you’d met him. You slunk over to him, swirling his chair around so you could sit on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing a deep kiss to his lips.

“What’s gotten into you today?” He asked, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer to him, obviously not objecting to the sudden physicality of your affection. “It’s not an anniversary, we’re only on our 1,813th day of dating which doesn’t mark any milestones or other special cultural holidays, so what gives.”

“You know I love it when you talk numbers to me.”

“You know I love it even more when you spill and tell me what’s going on? Come on, Y/N, something’s different.” You pouted at this goddamn superhuman perception. It was going to be embarrassing to admit that you saw the gaggle of girls that had been crowding around his office as competition.

“There were a lot of students today.” You said, simply changing the topic a bit, hoping you wouldn’t have to explicitly name the green-eyed monster that had taken over you.

“Not really, that’s about the amount I get every time I open office hours.”

“Every time?” He’d told you often that you were an absolutely open book, your facial expressions baring your every thought and feeling. So you cursed yourself at the pout you felt forming on your lips.

“Woah, what was that? Y/N, are you… are you jealous?”He laughed a little bit as your frown deepened, a flush coming up to cover your face.

“So what if I am?”

“Have I not been paying enough attention to you, baby?” He trailed his hand up between your thighs and your breath hitched as you felt the tone of the conversation immediately shift.

“They were talking about you, y’know?” your breath hitched at the last word, as his hand found its way to your clit, beginning to press the tiniest of circles around that nerve.

“Oh? What were they saying that made my princess so upset?” The hand gripping your hip was nearly painful now, as he clasped you tightly, letting your legs spread for him as he slowly picked up the pace, your back now flush against his chest as he looked down to between your legs from over your shoulder. Your head was thrown back against him, your chest rising and falling with every small movement.

“They were talking a-about your hands,” you moaned out. His eyes stayed fixed on your center, but his free hand trailed up to your blouse, popping a few buttons expertly so he could see the rise and form of your chest, see your nipples sticking out through the thin bra you’d chosen that morning.

“Hmm, is that it baby? They just talked about these hands?” He continued at his agonizing pace on your clit as his hand lifted to your nipples, pulling one breast free of your bra and beginning to roll it between his fingers. You writhed at the touch, trying desperately to keep quiet, knowing from your time outside just how thin these walls were.

“Baby, I think you didn’t hear me. Was that all they said?” His tone was darker now, and you knew you had to answer before he made you.

“No!” You moaned out, trying to gain back some composure when all you wanted to do was relax into his hands and let him pull your release from you. “They… they said they knew you were big… Down there.” He laughed a little at that and shifted his hips underneath you.

“And are they correct baby?” You feel him pressing against your leg now and it takes everything in you not to let your eyes roll back in pleasure and let him use you as he wants.

“Yes, sir. They were… they were right, you always fill me up so good.” Your hips start grinding down into his, his hand stilling as you use him to get yourself off.

“There’s something else they said, right, baby? You’re holding something back?” He smiled, dropping hot open-mouthed kisses to your neck as you frantically rubbed yourself up against him. Your moans were ripping out from your mouth now in frustrated moans, as you felt needy in a way you’d never quite experienced before.

“Stop teasing, Spencer.”

“No. This is my office, and you come in draping yourself all over me like a whore in front of all of my students. You don’t get to call me Spencer right now, you’re going to have to show a little bit more respect.” With those words he pushed you up to your feet, pulling his hands off of you before quickly clearing a space on the desk and bending you over it.

“I heard this bit. They said they wanted me to bend them over and take them like this, right?” You heard him unzip his pants, bringing the tip of his cock to your entrance as he started teasing you, pulling your panties to the side. You moaned out a yes, but that wasn’t enough for him anymore.

“Use your words, baby. What did they want me to do to them?”

“They wanted you to bend them over the desk and fuck them like a little whore, sir.” With that confession out in the open, he finally pushed into you, stretching you out with a sinful groan slipping from his mouth.

“Fuck baby, so tight and wet for me…” His thrusts were hard and slow, and you could feel the wetness seeping down your legs, the wet sounds of your activity filling the space infinitely. His pace picked up and so did your constant mewls from the contact, the sounds completely unmistakable for anything but base lust.

“You’re so fucking wet for me, sweetheart. Going to come, right here on my cock in my office, huh?”

“Yes, sir, I’m going to…. Shit, I’m going to cum.” He grabbed your hair and pulled your face up to his, swallowing each of your moans with his mouth as he let his tongue explore, your body twitching still under his ministrations. He kept his rough pace up for another minute or two before hitting his peak as well, pulling out to empty himself out on your thighs.

“Shit, Y/N,” he mumbled, falling back into his chair and running a hand through his tousled hair as you fell forward back into the desk, chest heaving. He was at eye level with the results of his labour and you heard the sound of his phone camera clicking before you could pull yourself together.

“Spencer!” You giggled awkwardly, looking back at him with an incredulous look as he pulled some tissues out of the desk drawer and started cleaning you up.

“What? I always take notes during my office hours.” He grinned up at you, as you turned around and planted another kiss to his lips, pulling him back up to you.

“How many students do you think will actually turn up to your class tomorrow?”

“I’ll be lucky if the module actually has any sign-ups next term.”

[tia-222]

Enter the void using theta waves

Link to the original post ( credits owolivia )

" But, since the void state is NOTHINGNESS it is not the symptoms. Many times people obsess over the symptoms they feel, whether they feel floaty, dizzy, or whatever else. This just leads to you being overly aware of your physical body and more than likely not entering the void. So, I personally ignore any symptoms and just continue to affirm until I’m in the void. Sometimes, I don’t even affirm, I just intend to go to the void and my awareness goes there. Let me tell you, it’s literally nothingness. It’s pitch black. You don’t feel or see anything, you just are. Literally, you’re just awareness. The first few times I entered the void state, I actually thought I had fallen asleep, only to realize I’d actually been there. So, you’ll know once you’re there; and you won’t have symptoms in the void. Remember, symptoms are just an indicator letting you know you’re correctly entering the void and a reminder to continue doing what you’re doing till you’re in the void state. Basically, when you’re in the void state, you’ll feel completely relaxed and at ease. Nothing will be in your way, you’re surrounded by pure nothingness. Just relax and affirm, your desires will manifest instantly in this state. "

" How I Personally Enter the Void : "

" Before I knew about shifting and manifesting I used the void state for relaxation (of course, I didn’t know I was at that time). Now I use it for shifting and manifesting since it’s relaxing to me. I use theta waves personally to induce relaxation, I’ll link my favorite theta waves track, I use musi to listen to them and they are absolutely wonderful! Check out Catalyst University, as they make amazing brain wave meditation tracks, there are plenty for you to choose from if the one I like isn’t for you! :smile: Also, these are very safe and reputable! I’ve used the tracks I’ve linked for 2 years and only had positive results! "

" Before I enter the void state, I typically take my nightly meds and take a nice bath (or shower). I don���t do anything fancy during my bath, I just listen to music and get cleaned up, then I dry off and get into bed. Again, until I’m ready to enter the void state, I don’t really do anything meditation wise or really affirmation wise (other than my daily affirmations), I just relax. I really just take some me time, I’ll watch some tv, maybe read something or play some video games, maybe script for fun, and get myself to a point where I’m slightly sleepy. Once I’m ready to get into the void state, I turn my TV off and make sure my room is completely dark. "

" I use theta waves (linked below) and play them using earbuds to induce a relaxed state for myself. I’ll get into a comfortable position that I don’t need to move from and begin to affirm or visualize I’m in the void state. Personally, I don’t focus on my breath at all that’s always made me anxious. I find that causes me to hyper focus on my physical body, so I focus on my heartbeat and my affirmations. Personally, I do feel like I’m floating/weightless when I’m entering the void state, but I ignore any symptoms I feel as they cause me to hyper focus on my physical body, so I’ll continue to affirm. Eventually (usually very quickly) I’ll end up in the void, I won’t hear the theta waves I played, see anything else, or feel anything, I’m just awareness, so I’ll affirm it sometimes even visualize, then when im ready, I’ll affirm to come back to either my CR or my DR. I tend to make it pretty simple and easy, keeping the whole process relaxed fo myself! "

Theta waves :

Pure theta waves Meditation

Binaural beat - theta wave

Hemi - sync theta waves

6Hz theta wave frequency

8D theta waves

[meowzfordayz]

NSFW Alphabet — Tomioka Giyuu

Author’s Note: ~1.5 months after starting this (and ~3 months since it was supposed to be started 🥴), and it’s finally finished !!!!! 🥳 If these were shorter headcanons, then they wouldn’t take so long 😅, but each individual letter is a labor of love (and lust 😏). As w/ all hcs, these are simply my opinions in this exact moment of writing, and are subject to change depending on the context/my mood! 😉

NSFW Alphabet — Tomioka Giyuu

Tomioka Giyuu x Reader

Word Count: ~3,500

CW: 18+NSFW, explicit language, Fem!Reader, oral, rimming, spit

MILESTONE 20.0

~faqs~

Aftercare? what they’re like after sex

Giyuu’s very sleepy after sex. If you’ve discussed it beforehand, then he’ll muster up the energy to gently towel wash you, brush your hair (if things got ~intense 😉), and make sure you drink a glass of water, but he’s otherwise hopeless. And by “hopeless”, I mean: he’s passing out with his cock still leaking onto your thighs, warm mouth smooshed into your shoulder, and will moan softly—Hnngg—and proceed to roll over should you attempt to wake him. 😌

Body Part? their favorite body part(s)

Giyuu’s a thigh guy, or GTTG (Giyuu The Thigh Guy) for short. 🦵 Don’t get me wrong! He could totally cum fixating on basically any part of your body 🫢, buuut nestled between your thighs… life couldn’t get much better. 😌 He isn’t huge on marking you (aka: he is, but he typically refrains because one hickey is a sure slide to two, then four, then seven, then- 😇), but biting softly at your thigh, listening to you squeal, halfheartedly attempting to push him away as his fingers wrap around your knees, tongue slipping out to soothe your fresh “wound” — he’s entertained himself with your thighs for literal hours, and not necessarily even sexually. 😆 He’ll often push your legs apart just so he can rest his head on the plush of your thigh, the rest of his body cradled by the curves of your knees and calves.

If you were a vampire, then Giyuu would surely be your first victim, because his neck is just: 😍😋🩸❣️ It’s kissable, nuzzle-able, biteable, and sooo fun to rile him up with a simple swipe of your tongue (bonus points if you suck on his Adam’s apple 🤤). He smells delicious too; a gentle, unassuming fragrance of ripples on a pond (whatever those smell like 🌊) that’s strongest where his neck meets his ears. Step in close and interlock your fingers behind his neck, and he’s certain to wrap his arms around your waist, surroundings fading to a hazy buzz as he murmurs, “I love you.”

Cum?

Giyuu loves cum while he’s still horny (something about the way it glistens and slides down the backs of your thighs, collecting in droplets on your puffy folds, slightly watery and warm as it slowly dampens the mattress beneath you… he’s fixated for sure 😌), but as soon as post nut clarity hits, he’s desperate for a shower (something about its smell and stickiness, clinging to your skin—and his—reminding him of how amazing you felt… and of how messy things got… if you’re taking too long to collect yourself, then he’s scooping you up and carrying you to the bathroom for sure 🫠).

Dirty Talk?

He loves dirty talk, but has to pass a certain threshold (of horniness) to really ~get into it. 😅 Before that threshold, a simple So pretty baby while straddling his hips, your fingertips stroking his softly toned abs, will guarantee you a blushing, flustered Tomioka Giyuu, his own grip tightening around your waist. And after that threshold? 👀 Best believe you’ll be the flustered one, low whimpers pushed out of your chest as a cool hand rests gentle around your throat, steadying your body while his cock fucks needy and forceful into your warm, clenching hole.

Experience? their level of experience

Before meeting you, Giyuu isn’t a virgin, but he’s also far from experienced. He knows how to have sex, knows how to make someone else cum, but he doesn’t know how to enjoy himself. He’s always been physically sensitive—always quick to orgasm with enough wetness and friction—but physical pleasure without its emotional counterpart only does so much. And then he falls in love with you. 🥺💙 He falls in love with how delicately you kiss the tops of his shoulder, across his collarbones, tongue swirling in the hollow of his throat. Falls in love with how easily you raise goosebumps on his forearms, his thighs, your fingertips grazing lightly—teasingly—along the seams of his clothing, toying with the buttons on his shirt, the zipper on his pants, not willing to undress him unless he begs. In love with how begging means catching your wrists and holding them above your head, brought to neediness by your tender ministrations, safe enough to seek his own desires in the heat of your breathlessness. “I want to cum,” he whispers gruffly, your pulse warm in his palms, “So help me.”

Foreplay?

Giyuu thoroughly enjoys foreplay, to the extent that he has trouble lasting through it. 😅 He actually fares better when you go down on him, because he can guide your movements and pace. His large hands—normally cool to the touch and tender in their intentions—firmly cup your nape, sweaty and needy as your hair tangles soft between his fingers. When you choke on the sensation of his cock nudging against the back of your throat, he can only whimper and groan, hips chasing the quiver and wetness of your breath, grip ensuring you remain planted between his thighs. And when he’s close to cumming? He’s strong enough to gently tug you away from him, your lips shiny and insatiable, a low whine kissing his skin as you pout. But when he goes down on you? That same attention dissipates. Lost in the heat and clench of your thighs, the ache in his scalp as you cling to his hair, the incoherent babble of pleasure spilling from your mouth while you tremble and arch before him… is it really his fault for cumming with you? 🙃 After all, you didn’t stop him from thrusting his hips into the mattress, the edge of the couch, his own fist, as he flicked his tongue over your clit. You didn’t stop him as he whispered about how Beautiful, Stunning, Divine, Fuck… I think I’m gonna cum… you were, your moans rising in pitch as you met his dazed expression, his eyes dark and determined, the tip of his nose glistening with your essence. You didn’t stop him as his body shuddered before you, his cum splurting sticky and pearlescent, the taste of your orgasm gushing tart and warm onto his tongue.

Goofy? their sense of humor

In the beginning, Giyuu’s uber serious… mostly because he’s worried about dying of embarrassment should he fumble while trying to get/keep you in the mood. 🫠 That’s not to say he’s incapable of smiling! He doesn’t want you to think he’s having a terrible time either. 🥴 But gosh forbid he accidentally fart, or nudge himself against the wrong hole, or elbow you in the face, or- 😭 Eventually, however, he slips into a deeper comfort and trust with you, which inevitably leads to him smooshing your hair, chuckling when you queef, and taking a breather when you become literally tangled in the sheets (you can’t stop laughing, and he somehow finds himself grinning adoringly at you vs running out the door in mortification). 🥺

Hair? pubes maintenance

Giyuu keeps himself well groomed due more to habit and personal comfort, but hey — you benefit too! Plus, you know you’ve reached peak closeness when you’re showering together and you randomly ask, “My love, could I trim your pubes tonight?” and instead of shoving you out of the shower, curtain rod and all, he just blushes a deep red and mutters, “Yeah, okay.” 😶

Intimacy? their degree of intimacy

Intimacy and Giyuu are a complicated duo. 😅 On one hand, Giyuu definitely isn’t casual; casual and physical closeness, casual and feelings, casual and sex, are not how he prefers to pair such concepts. But intimacy is difficult for him too, because intimacy means trusting, and trusting means revealing his nakedness — not just undressing his lover. While you know from the get go that you aren’t just a one night stand, friends with benefits, or connected in some other vaguely defined manner, you also initially aren’t entirely sure exactly how deeply rooted his intentions and desires are. After all, he’s shy about meeting your gaze, keeps the lights dim, and hardly moans or closes his eyes… until you finally, finally ask him about it. “Giyuu, what am I to you?” 🥺 “I don’t understand.” 🙃 “I… well, I feel like when we have sex, you make love to me, but I somehow can’t make love to you.” He doesn’t properly answer you, seconds from dreamland after tiredly wiping his cum off your thighs 😴, but he was listening, and the next time he finds himself sliding slowly into you, he cracks a smile—rather than glance away—when you catch him in his contented daze. 💓

Jack Off? masturbation

Giyuu goes through phases of jerking off every day of the week to not touching himself for upwards of a month. There’s no pattern to the duration or frequency of each phase, and he doesn’t really consciously think about it either. Sometimes he’s horny, and other times he’s just not. That being said, solo masturbation and sexual acts with others (others being you) are separate entities to him. Whether he just came that same morning, or hasn’t cum alone in a couple of weeks, he’s always more than willing to feel your pretty cunt (or throat, or hands, because he’s not about to be picky) flutter and squeeze around his cock.

Kink? ~specific turn ons

Lace. 😍 Giyuu knows lace is often rough and uncomfortable 🥲, but there’s just something divine about seeing your breasts in lace and satin; about running calloused palms up your scantily clad thighs (if you ever want to buy a(nother) garter, then Giyuu will always hand you his credit card — no questions asked 😌), snapping your frilly waistband against your plush, warm hips; lapping at the delicate material covering your nipples till they’re perky and damp, gushing about You’re absolutely stunning and Can’t decide if I’d rather fuck you with these beautiful panties on or off. Sometimes, he’ll literally stop and stare (or make you ~model for him 😵‍💫), breath caught in his chest at how perfectly the floral embroidery matches your eyes; at how ethereal and whimsical you appear, the facade of angelic elegance dissipating as you perch on all fours before him, teasing fingers tugging at the sorry excuse of a string between your cheeks. “The longer you wait, the more likely I am to ruin these panties,” you purr, craning your neck to stare over your shoulder at his awestruck expression, “You wouldn’t want that, hm? Wouldn’t want me to have to buy a new set of lace for you?” Spoiler alert: of course he wants you to buy another set of lace for him 😖, but he quite likes your current set too 🥴, so he’s quick to lean over you, mouth messy and hot as he kisses you thoroughly, clever hand slipping underneath you to cup and knead your tit while his other maintains his balance on the mattress.

Location? where they prefer to have sex

Call him basic, but Giyuu likes having sex in bed. 🤗 It’s comfortable, safe, and a sturdy headboard (+ a couple of velcro straps and/or handcuffs) can make it not-so-vanilla too. He’s the reason you have so many pillows, because while he’s okay with taking one for the team and sleeping in any cum spots 🫡, he refuses to sleep on a stained pillow (understandable 😝). As a man who gets extra sleepy after sex, changing sheets/pillowcases usually isn’t in the cards for him, so he’d rather just have plenty of pillows and swap them out when necessary.

Motivation? ~general turn ons

Being nice to him. Giyuu’s got a bit of a praise kink, albeit less so that he’ll get go from zero to erection emergency zone if you compliment him 😆, and more so that he remembers your kindness and attentiveness throughout the day, and returns your care and affection tenfold at night 😉. He also appreciates clean and tidy nails, genuine smiles (although your fake laughter—when not targeted at him—does make him chuckle 🫢), and when you playfully tug his hair to redirect his focus. “Oi, babe, I said left,” you huff amusedly, pointing across the street. He nods slowly, smirking faintly as he promptly continues heading in the wrong direction (if only to get you to tug on his hair again 😌). 

No? turn offs

Giyuu’s pretty flexible. 😌 He can be kinky (after reading a dozen or so ~articles about how exactly to go about exploring X kink), he can be vanilla, but he isn’t into cheating/cuckolding. 😓 Not even for a roleplay scenario. He could be (pretty easily) discussed into having a threesome, or simply a voyeuristic counterpart 👀, but No. Cheating. He trusts that you love him, and he knows he loves you, but it just feels a lil too real to even think about, let alone play out. 😕

Oral? giver or receiver

Giyuu tends to be the receiver, because he has a 50/50 chance of lasting through foreplay whenever he’s the giver. 😶 That being said, he doesn’t exactly have a ~preference, and definitely doesn’t perceive giving oral sex to be a chore, annoying, or tiresome — he just doesn’t want to disappoint you by cumming too soon should you still desire penetrative sex after oral sex. 

Position? their favorite position(s)

Doggystyle, because Giyuu can’t get enough of hearing his thighs slap against yours. 🫢 From cupping the tops of your thighs and pulling your body toward him to both steady himself and fuck deeper into your cunt, to gripping the inside of your thighs to spread your legs farther apart while spitting lazily on your back Fuck, so fucking filthy for me, to listening to how sweaty and eager you are as your skin clings and claps to his, doggystyle is easily his favorite. A close second, when either of you are feeling too lazy for doggystyle, would be missionary, because once again, Giyuu can use your thighs to pull you closer and spread you wider (and his spit + your boobs = ✨shiny boobs✨). 

Quickie? a fan or not-a-fan

Giyuu isn’t a huge fan of quickies (not enough time to devour you whole), but your first few times together were quick nonetheless. 😏💀 After he’s gotten over his initial awe (let’s be honest tho — he never really gets over it 😍), he’s better about not ~accidentally making everything a quickie 😝, but you lowkey still have him wrapped around your finger. 😇 In other words, Giyuu doesn’t like ‘em, but you have the power to create them whenever you so desire. 😎😂

Risk? their risk tolerance

Low risk tolerance. 🙃 In theory, Giyuu isn’t against sexual risk taking (i.e. semi public sex), but in practice, he gets too flustered-embarrassed-mortified-at-the-thought-of-being-caught 🫣 to actually follow through. If you casually mention how hot it would be If you pressed me up against this wall and slipped your hand under my skirt to feel how wet I am, then he’ll do the press-you-up-against-the-wall part 😏, but will shakily vice grip the hem of your skirt, unable to continue (he wants to 😭, but just can’t 🥴). 

Stamina?

In terms of how long Giyuu can fuck you in a single position before his muscles give out? He has practically unlimited stamina. 😎 His lanky, lithe physique isn’t purely for show y’know! 😉 It’s for holding you up against a wall, cock thrusting upward into your dripping cunt as your nails dig crescent moons into his shoulders, his face buried in your neck as he focuses intently on the slick, lewd sound of his balls tapping your pretty asshole. And for holding you up above him while you straddle his hips, your legs cramping from exhaustion—Aw darling, can’t ride me any longer?—adoration in his eyes as he begins fucking roughly into your pussy, delirious on how willingly you allow him to pleasure your body. However, in terms of how long Giyuu can fuck you before he cums? … … … he’s working on it. 🫠 That being said, he makes up for premature orgasms with potential quantity! 😏 If you’re feeling especially horny, then he can usually manage an orgasm morning, noon, and night 🥰 — just don’t expect much out of him the following day. 😵‍💫😂

Toys?

Giyuu might be a lil jealous of them. 🤪 Not actually, he’s not that insecure of himself and your relationship… but you could totally rile him up by starting without him, winking exaggeratedly with your favorite vibrator grazing your clit as he walks into the bedroom, giggling when he promptly plops onto the bed beside you, still fully clothed, hand nudging you and your toy out of his way as he grumbles halfheartedly, “So I guess I didn’t need to hurry up the stairs after all, you’ve got everything taken care of.” 😔 Your failsafe solution? Gently grasp his noticeable bulge, and declare, “Clearly not everything, seeing as I’ve yet to solve this problem.” 😌😉😏😎 Will he cringe at your cheesiness? Yes. 🥴 Will he also frantically begin unzipping and kicking off his pants? Also yes. 😳

Unfair? how they feel about teasing/being teased

Tease at your own discretion, because Giyuu can not handle it. 😃 He enjoys it! But his imagination does wonders at filling in the blanks you’re leaving, and if you’re not careful, then he might just spill over before you’re ready! 😅 Teasing you goes pretty much the same, because as much as he tries to convince himself that you’re the one he’s edging, truly, he’s edging both of you, and he’s too in love with you to not succumb to his own delicate, torturous charm. 🙃💞

Volume?

Quiet and breathy, or desperate and babbling, with no in between. Push him far enough, and he’ll murmur filth nonstop (most of it incoherent 😅) until he’s shaking and cumming, or bask in the soft glow of his occasional grunts and low hisses. Sex in the morning is usually near silent, but sex in the evening frequently brings out the singular, guttural groan that always accompanies his hardest orgasms. 

Wild Card?

On rare occasions, Giyuu rims you. The stuttered, needy whine, and the feeling of your pussy tightening around his cock, whenever he brushes the pad of his thumb over your asshole do not go unnoticed by him, so he can only imagine how sensitive and gorgeous you would feel and sound if the tip of his tongue replaced his wandering hands — and he’s proven ~right when he rims you for the first time, and you practically wail at the hot wetness of his mouth. So good for me, letting me eat your pretty ass he rasps, spit bridging from his chin to your ass cheeks, your thighs quivering in his grip, drooling onto your pillow as you rock your hips backward toward his slick, skillful tongue What a fucking treat, getting to taste you here.

X-ray?

Giyuu’s cock is pretty. 7” erect, somewhat slim, with a fat and squishy tip that beads precum like it’s modeling for an advertisement. Its length always catches you off guard because it doesn’t look especially big (think cute twink vs beefy jock), but as he slowly pushes himself in a couple inches, pulls out till his tip catches at your entrance, and then slowly pushes himself in a couple inches farther than before, you can’t help but gasp. “Are you okay?” he asks softly, voice low and thick in his throat, eyes gleaming as he watches himself disappear into your luscious cunt, your body presented to him so stunning on your chest and knees. “Fuck,” is your graceful response, face buried in the mattress, back arching forward with every shallow thrust, “So deep.” He’d chuckle at your cliche whimper if he wasn’t so focused on not cumming, his hands cupping your hips in an attempt to handle you tenderly, the desperate clinging of your walls sucking away his self control as he slips farther, farther, deeper into your heat.

Yearning? sex drive

Horny, and by horny, I mean 24/7. Giyuu’s so used to it though (the perpetual state of being borderline turned on), that it doesn’t exactly feel like horny. He could fuck whenever (albeit, not necessarily wherever), but doesn’t need to (he’s a grown man y’know, he has ~some control 😉). This is a problem at first, because he refrains from initiating (afraid of scaring you away with his sex drive 😬)—to the point where you worry that you’re pressuring him into being physically intimate—but as soon as you communicate your concern, he’s quick (and embarrassed 😶) to assure you that I’m horny all the time. Do you want me to fuck you all the time? 😐 You might jokingly say Duh!, but his sentiment registers nonetheless. ☺️

Zzz?

🎵out like a light🎶 Morning sex? Giyuu’s taking a five minute power nap. 😴 Afternoon sex? Giyuu’s taking a thirty minute cat nap. 😴 Evening sex? Giyuu’s going to sleep. 😴 He does his best to check in with you vs straight up knocking out, but unless something urgent arises (i.e. intense feelings, physical pains, etc), he’s not someone to rely on after he cums. Of course, he can ~technically orgasm and then continue his day without conking out, but his resulting moodiness/distractedness takes a while to wear off whenever that happens.

[revenantghost]

Tristamp Wolfwood is a bit different than his counterparts, yeah? And I don’t mean that in a bad way, Orange is going somewhere with it, but it’s very different from what they’ve done with Vash and Meryl imo. With them, I feel like we got a glimpse of pre-canon. With Wolfwood... Orange is up to something, and it goddamn terrifies me. I love him dearly, he has some many moments that make me smile and go, “Yeah, that’s Wolfwood, my beloved asshole.” But it’s different. Oh so very different.

I’m just gonna point out a few examples of things I think are different enough to note here (drawing comparisons from Trimax since that was the source for Tristamp, but I’ll try not to spoil much--just don’t Google names you don’t recognize), and then go a little off the rails with a couple theories (spoilers there, click the read more at your own peril). This is DEFINITELY not everything, and maybe my takes are a bit off, idk. If there’s something you’ve picked up on, definitely feel free to add it!

Well, here goes:

My dude is a mess. Wolfwood is typically put together and some would call him smooth (he’s a mess inside always, though) in his other incarnations. Orange pointed out at Sakuracon that the characters are supposed to look younger and more immature in Tristamp, and Wolfwood specifically is supposed to look like he can’t dress himself (lmao). They said they have their reasons but just didn’t have time to explore them in canon. So, I can make assumptions, but I’ll wait to see what comes in the future.

Another one that staff talked about in a recent interview is that Wolfwood is technically a priest according to his contract, but he calls himself an undertaker. Yeah, yeah, edgelord Tristamp Wolfwood and all that, but I’ve seen people call back to how, in the manga, it’s Vash that always takes the time to bury the dead. Wolfwood even chews him out a bit for this. But it’s literally in our introduction to him in this version. He carries the weight of the dead with him enough to make it part of his title, and that’s different for him.

I could be misremembering with this one. But I distinctly remember being surprised when I read Trimax because Wolfwood going into the Eye of Michael seemed more of his own choice than it is in Tristamp (not that a literal child could consent to, you know, torture and abuse)? But either way Wolfwood loathes the Eye of Michael from the get-go here, he doesn’t stay by choice and actively tries to escape. Just like all these choices he makes in Tristamp (which is MASSIVELY different in general), he does it for someone else. He can’t try to escape again, because they have Livio.

Speaking of! Livio!!! This was another thing that caught me by surprise going from Tristamp to Trimax, their relationship is so much different here, so much softer and it hurts in a beautiful way. I feel like less is more here to avoid spoilers, but this introduction pre-Trimax-canon and any future conflict with this backstory... is very different.

Holy hell, a moment like this happening so early?! Vash and Wolfwood having ideological differences and not understanding each other takes up so much time in Trimax. But over the course of three episodes, we go from Wolfwood killing someone that Vash wanted to save (props to Tristamp for making that gutpunch even more personal, ouch--though points deducted for not having the, “Shoot,” moment there), to Vash seeing how very similar they are and getting a grasp of why Wolfwood is the way he is. Wolfwood is so much softer in Tristamp. He’s way more emotional, he cares so deeply for things outside of himself, and he doesn’t have that apathetic bitterness. Staff have said that our main characters will be a lot more recognizable post-timeskip, so some shit is gonna happen to this man, but this is a fundamental shift in the early days of their relationship.

AGAIN!!! Wolfwood is doing this whole mission, betraying Vash, to save the orphanage. He didn’t have to listen to Vash trying to save the sandsteamer. It doesn’t matter if Vash is pissy if Wolfwood blew up the ship to save the orphanage, because that’s his end goal. He has a giant laser that just blew through an entire giant worm, this ship is nothing. Wolfwood’s trying to cling to the monster that he sees himself as, trying to stay the Punisher, but he’s not. He already has enough faith in Vash to trust him with everything he cares about. This takes a lot of development time for Wolfwood to trust Vash like this in Trimax--and even in the very end, he still doesn’t trust Vash with this. (If you know, you know.)

AGAIN!!!!! Wolfwood cares!!! He does not need to question if Vash is sure, if he thinks he can make up with or convince Knives or whatever, in fact he shouldn’t. He should give Vash no reason to question getting to July. But Wolfwood, be careful, your feelings are showing. Wolfwood’s getting worried about Vash. Even though all he needs to do is keep his head down and get this dork to July.

This was never Trimax Wolfwood’s motivation. Whatever drove him left him hollow and empty, he did not care. Even when he saw things starting to go south and he wanted out, Vash ended up being right: he was too much of a coward to do anything about it. (If you know, you know.) I had wondered, after Legato tried to bulldoze everything he loved, why the hell didn’t Wolfwood just desert the mission and team up with the gang. He already has such a deep connection with them. But this would be why.

WOLFWOOD IS NO LONGER CONTRACTED BY THE EYE OF MICHAEL AT THE END OF THE SEASON??? Some people say that Wolfwood still works for them, but tbh for what reason? They’re about to end the world. And then what about this line? He wouldn’t exactly have a choice, would he? I do think we’re gonna meet Chapel (right before Livio shoots himself, you’ll hear a voice and see a silhouette (not Razlo, though he’s there too) that seems to be a “new” character), and Wolfwood might end up working under him for some fucked up reason... But if not, this changes everything. It already changes everything considering how big Wolfwood escorting Vash to Knives is. But that’s done now. And because Vash saw right through him the first time, if Wolfwood comes back to do the same thing again, it might feel cheap and a little silly.

MERYL!!! Trimax is basically the Vash and Wolfwood show, right? The girls are around, but mainly their interactions are with Vash. But he and Meryl interact so much just over the course of twelve episodes. They even have that adorable group shot. She matters enough that he came back to rescue her, and the two of them worry about Vash together in the finale. Who knows what happened post-finale, but Wolfwood’s self isolation is already shot to hell. He’s more big brother Nico than he’d had the chance to be in awhile, he has so many people to care for.

So the danger has passed, Vash’s roots are back inside of him, the orphanage should be fine. But Wolfwood comes back for them. Yeah, yeah, the stupid cigarette excuse, but this is Wolfwood, not Vash. He didn’t come back because of the cigarette debt and we all know it. (Also kinda hoping that him saying what he does about fighting Knives being crazy is foreshadowing for some ridiculous 1v1 fight between them, had to throw that in there)

Now, theories Trimax spoiler time bby (I’ll also post any corrections under the cut):

EDIT 1: I was bonkers wrong on the Tristamp timeline (it takes place from May 25th to July 21st, not including the epilogue), so I just deleted that bit from the og post. I cannot remember where I got that number in my brain.

They are doing something with this man and I hate it as much as I love it. Every other character can go off and follow similar paths but they just nuked the entirety of Wolfwood’s storyline by having him be finished getting Vash to Knives and him choosing to trust Vash so goddamn early. And in less than a week of canon time!!! ORANGE WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!!!

They’ve knocked everything out of the park so far, I had so many concerns about what they were doing while watching, and they squashed most of them. So I choose to have faith that Orange has a brilliant plan that will crush my emotions in mind. It will probably eviscerate us just like Trimax did. But I have two theories as to how this could go:

First: And by far the most likely: all roads lead to that goddamned couch. They changed a ton of things, but just to make it all hurt in a new and exciting way. Don’t get me wrong, this was the final straw in making Trimax one of my favorite manga ever--Wolfwood’s character arc is one of the most satisfying things I’ve ever read. I’m a bit nervous because we’ve already shifted that arc so much, but there’s a lot of room to fuck us all up in this one. I imagine the final confrontation will still be between the two brothers, but I imagine the context will be different.

Wolfwood’s already chosen to spare Livio, so that won’t be the clincher, but there are so many things that Wolfwood wants to fight for now to use against him. Something in the timeskip will probably firm up his ideals to be the opposite of Vash’s in a different way than before, but I imagine we’ll get at least a season of them being goofy and learning how to live and regain their humanity together before they’re couched. :’) And now the girls are going to be a bigger part of it to make the grief all that greater :’))) Thanks in advance, Orange :’))))))

Second: No couch??? I know, then what would be the point? He’s doomed in every universe, how will it be as powerful if they don’t do that here??? And I agree, I think this is way less likely. But Wolfwood has already accepted the power of anime Jesus friendship into his life, and that’s a huge part of what lead to his death. Not that I don’t think it’s still likely for Tristamp Wolfwood to think it’s too much to ask Vash to step away from the conflict with Knives for whatever his personal struggles are, but... man that sandsteamer incident is foreshadowing something and I’m afraid. It shifted so much in a way that is so significant, I feel like I’m not doing it justice with my words.

Speaking of possible foreshadowing: Wolfwood isn’t the product of random experimenting like he was in Trimax, he’s the product of plant experimentation. And Vash can heal plants. Again, that’s a big ol’ stretch, as I think that they made the Gung Ho Guns a product of plant experimentation to try and explain the magic powers they all have, and it’s a very smooth idea imo. But it haunts me. Also, given that Conrad has probably been kept alive through fucked up plant methods and how long Rollo remained the same, and Conrad said the only flaw in his experiments were that they had to eat and drink... does Wolfwood and Gung Ho Gun friends have an extended lifespan??? Okay, getting off topic, sorry :’D

Basically, Wolfwood has already made huge leaps and bounds in trusting Vash, even listening to Meryl, and growing a heart for humanity. To the point I was half-afraid this guy was going to die in the finale, because we’ve already seen so much of his character arc. (It would have been a poor choice and I’m happy it didn’t happen EVEN IF I’M STILL AFRAID). And he’s based off of Trimax Wolfwood quite heavily! You can see it in the core of his personality still!!! WHAT ARE THEY GOING TO DO WITH HIM???

I doubt either of these ideas are going to be quite right, watch as Orange works in a secret, third thing that I can’t even imagine lmao. But this has been driving me absolutely bonkers and I had to share. This is still Wolfwood, and I have a feeling he’s only going to be more and more of the lovable asshole from here on out. But I have no idea where we’re going with it.

Holy hell, this was a long post. If you made it to the end of my insane ramblings well, uh... congrats??? I hope it was somewhat worth the read???? I’m so sorry?????? Thank you??????????

[imisscherryboy-blog]

running back 2 u

enemies to lovers — football player! ajax x sports med! gn reader

part 2 part 3

spotify playlist ★

story: you and ajax have known each other since elementary school. those years haven’t been always the best, as you both parted ways due to your differences in personality. that is, until one hot august night, where the stadium lights illuminate the turf, you find yourself running back to him again.

notes: enemies to lovers, modern au, gender neutral reader, childe is referred to as ajax, last name tartaglia, american football, all characters are 18+ as seniors, highschool setting, use of american education system, reader is in a sports medicine class (if you don’t know what that is it’s basically students that help out at school games, usually water girls/boys/people, assist with injuries) i wrote this with the pov of the reader being a POC but if you’re not just disregard when i say white and stuff lmao + part 1/?, title is an nct reference, debating eventual smut, kaveh and alhaitham are gay

side characters featured: kaveh, alhaitham (alhaitham x kaveh)

warnings: swearing, vivid depiction/description of injury

★ part 1 of an ongoing series ★

you hated ajax and ajax hated you. that much was safe to say. ever since that incident in 9th grade, you never talked to him, let alone acknowledged him. before that, you both had known each other since elementary school. everybody loved ajax, his teachers, his peers, and even you. he just had that personality that made everyone love him; but you knew him underneath that persona. you knew his flaws and he knew yours. he’d tell you things he’d never tell anyone, he trusted you. but, all good things come to an end. in the summer going into your first year at highschool, you found yourself never wanting to speak to him again. he ultimately became the person you two would make fun of together in prior years. a typical, white, football player. but damn was he a good running back. he used to be so charming, but now he was just a playboy that had a new girl in his bed every week. you hated him for it, you hated the person he became, but you mostly hated how he’d plague your mind like a disease.

the day of the game finally came. you and kaveh both wore your school’s varsity jackets and jeans. you guys trudged the god foresaken orange gatorade cooler out to the field for the junior varsity and freshman team. the jv game had just finished, and you began setting up for the varsity game.

“y/n, i can tell you’re scared about ajax.”

“wow kaveh, you’re sooo observant.” you said sarcastically as you both were now in the utility room, filling the water bottles for the players.

“listen, you probably won’t even have to talk to him. as much as he likes to talk behind your back, he’s scared of you. you literally know EVERYTHING about him, you could ruin his reputation in milliseconds.” kaveh had a point. you knew his deepest and darkest secrets, but he unfortunately knew yours as well. you screwed the last lid of the water bottle on tighter than usual as you responded.

“thanks kaveh, but promise me you’ll be the one giving him his water, not me.” kaveh laughed as you said this.

“i’d actually be more than happy too! he’s pretty fine anyways…”

“kaveh— please.” you sighed as kaveh only laughed louder. you walked out to the field, the sky a pretty hue of pink as the jv players left and students filed in the bleachers for the real game. you made your way to the bench, right next to the field and placed the water bottle trays down, as cheering filled the stadium, you both looked behind you.

“ladies and gentlemen, please welcome, our undefeated, five-time league winners, the varsity football team!” the announcer said as the cheers only got louder. the varsity boys ran onto the field, ajax leading the team. you rolled your eyes. you’d admit, he looked good in the navy blue and white jersey, adorning the number 11. ajax was the captain and star of the team, his stats practically outdid any other running back in the county. he ranked first for almost every category, he was a good running back, you’d give him that at least. but at that moment, a feeling came over you. you felt jealous. jealous of the new cheerleader girl he was seeing, jealous of his success, you irrevocably hated him.

“god alhaitham looks good.” kaveh said, very much distracted when they began to sing the national anthem.

“you’re shameless, kaveh.”

“well, the national anthem definitely did not include gay people so…”

the game began, and the annoying and repetitive chants from the cheerleaders almost got stuck in your head. they even had a special one for their glorious star boy tartaglia! you could give zero fucks about him and his stupid chant, but you couldn’t help but notice him staring you down as the rival team took a time out. he gulped his water, sweat dripping from his slicked-back hair, before returning back to the field. as promised, it was kaveh’s job to offer him water, not yours. when one team scored, the other followed suit, the game was neck and neck. watching ajax skillfully receive alhaitham’s (the quarterback) throws and run it was something you could watch all day. but you hated him, so you pretended to look busy every time the home team ran a point. it was halftime now, and you and kaveh hung around the bench. they were up by only two points, it was practically anyone’s game, but that’s what makes the epic highs and lows of highschool football, right?

“swear to god, ajax keeps looking at you.” kaveh whispered to you as you refilled the green water bottles. the boys went into the team room as you and kaveh stayed outside. ajax’s fan girls in the stands had finally calmed down. you just looked at him and looked away as you continued to fill up the water. “like, every time he scores a touch down, he’ll do his stupid little celebration and he’ll glance over here—and then i’d look at you, and of course—‘oh, she’s trying to look distracted and pretend to not care again!’.” kaveh rolled his eyes at you, looking at you for an answer. “you still care about him, don’t you?” this time, you didn’t look at him and just stared at the bottle.

“yeah, like i’d give two shits about the school fuck boy. it’s just, i can’t help but remember how he used to be, that’s all.” it was a blatant lie, and kaveh knew. but he decided to stop pressing where it hurts. and just like that, half time was over and the team looked spent, but they still had 30 minutes to clutch. the cheers started up again. another touchdown, and chants of his name were the only things heard in the stadium. you felt surrounded. you just wanted to go home.

finally, the seventh minute began. the scoreboard emitting a soft glow displayed both home and away teams tied. everyone on the bleachers were all sat for these final minutes. including you. you watched intently with kaveh and your sports med teacher on the bench as they hiked the ball.

“alhaitham, number 9 is going for a throw,” the commentator’s voice reverberated through the field. alhaitham spots ajax, right on the 30 yard line, centered on the field. alhaitham takes a couple steps back and throws, the ball spins with accuracy. the crowd and kaveh all cheer.

“a dot! per usual from quarter back alhaitham, how many yards can their star running back score for the team!” ajax grabbed the ball and went for a right hook, swiftly dodging the defenders. he only got faster and faster as the cheers grew louder. he hooked right, and made his way for that touch down line.

“ajax! ajax! ajax!” the crowd chanted as kaveh and your teacher were now standing. you watched him closely, all of a sudden remembering back to when the two of you competed in your middle school’s flag football tournament. he had signed you up without you knowing, and you both somehow cinched first place.

“oh my god—” kaveh’s gasp snapped you out of your thoughts, as you looked onto the field.

the bleachers were silent now. ajax laid on his side, clutching his knee. the ball was long forgotten now.

“it appears number 11 is down.” the commentator remarked. your heart sank to your ass. you knew that knee injuries could fuck up anyone’s career in seconds. especially a running back’s. before you knew it, you were standing, your teacher yelled something to kaveh as he began running toward him to see what happened, you stood frozen. the cries of his fan girls behind you were the only things you could hear, kaveh was trying to tell you something, but you kept looking at ajax’s writhing body and back to kaveh, and back to ajax, and now at the rival team, and back to kaveh.

“y/n! are you listening? this is serious!” kaveh’s voice was almost a yell.

“i-i’m sorry, what do you need me to do?” you blinked a couple times.

“get the ice pack!” he yelled as kaveh made his way to the scene, the rival team went back to their bench as they were in small groups, most likely talking about what happened. you grabbed the ice pack from the cooler and ran over. his eyes were screwed shut as he cursed loudly, your teacher asking where it hurt.

“ah fuck, my knee! motherfu—” ajax bit back his curses with the back of his hand. your teacher radioed for a golf cart, which made you confused because you’d think someone would be calling 911.

“shouldn’t we be calling an ambulance..?” alhaitham asked, kneeling next to kaveh and ajax’s head. kaveh visibly looked flustered.

“y-yeah. we should! as a matter of fact, why don’t i just call them right—” your teacher cut kaveh off as he interjected.

“it’s a torn acl, if we call an ambulance right now, all they’ll do is give him some ice and painkillers which we very much have. we’re not spending 6k for an ice pack. save that money for the surgery.” your teacher remarked.

“the what..?” ajax looked at him with wide eyes as a campus supervisor came with a golf cart, the crowd was at a stand still.

“kaveh, stay here and take over for me. y/n, come with me.” you knew ajax’s injury was nothing life threatening, but you couldn’t help but worry for his future. you nodded your head as you and your teacher got into the front seat of the golf cart, cursing kaveh in your head, wishing it was him to take your place. ajax’s teammates carefully laid him on the golf cart and he cursed at them to be more careful. you rolled your eyes.

“ajax, we’re gonna need you to talk to us, we can’t have you passing out.” your teacher drove the golf cart to the recovery room, making sure to drive slowly over any bumps.

“you want me to talk? well, a torn acl is gonna ruin my goddamn career—fuck!” the golf cart jerked forward a little, making him curse.

“it’s probably not completely torn, ajax. you’ll recover in no time.” your teacher said.

“you’ll probably be out for the season.” you added, you couldn’t help but add a little salt in the wound.

“you’ll be out for the fucking year if you don’t shut the fuck up.” ajax snapped back at you.

“you need some ice dipshit?” you turned around with the ice pack and tossed it onto his knee, making him yell out in pain.

“what the FUCK is wrong with you—” he yelped in pain again, you just rolled your eyes.

“y/n! cut it out! you too, ajax. we’re here.” the teacher took the key out of the golf cart and looked at you. “i need to call his parents and file a report for the insurance, i’m trusting you to patch any cuts and tape his knee for the time being. keep the ice on it—and please don’t assault him.” your teacher was already on their way as they headed towards the office. you didn’t even get a minute to protest.

“no fucking way they just left me with this loser.” ajax scoffed from the back seat of the golf cart.

“at least my knee still works.” you grabbed the key and unlocked the recovery room, it had a couple of medical beds and cabinets filled with all kinds of medical equipment. you turned the lights on as you heard ajax outside yell.

“now you’re just leaving me? jesus, i couldn’t have asked for someone better to help me.” you ignored him as that was not what you were doing. you went to the smaller room in the back to get a wheelchair to get him onto one of the beds. you walked back outside, ajax’s face turned from one of pain to an angered look the minute you stepped outside. you wheeled the wheel chair to him.

“get on.” you said with little to no remorse.

“yeah let me just fly onto the fucking wheel chair why not. can you help me?” ajax yelled as he tried to sit up straight on the back seat. you scoffed and somehow got him onto the wheel chair. you both were silent, but you knew when ajax went quiet, he was overthinking. you knew he was thinking about what he’d do with his injury. you decided to give him something else to think about.

“it’s not that bad ajax. you survived skateboarding into a brick wall, i’m sure you’ll be fine.” you brought up an old memory the both of you shared.

“everyone saw. even the fucking scouters—i’m done for.” your words seemed to fly past his head. almost like he forgot about you and his’ history. you helped him onto the medical bed and made him sit straight so you could tape his knee. you went into the back room to get more ice. from the main room, you heard him start talking again.

“when i ran into that brick wall, you were the only one there. i didn’t have scouters that could get me d1 scholarships.” he remarked. he did remember at least. you came back with a roll of medical tape and some ice.

“you need to roll you pants up past your knee.” you went for the straight forward route as anything else would’ve gotten too awkward.

“yeah no fucking way that’s happening, cut it off for all i care.” you figured getting the leg of the pants over his injury wouldn’t be the most best of things, so you grabbed a pair of scissors and cut his pants just above his thigh. he hissed in pain even though you didn’t even touch it. he was always this dramatic, you thought to yourself. you unrolled the pieces of tape and got to work. if ajax was good at football, you were the best at sports medicine. you knew how to wrap an ankle like second nature—a big part of the reason why your teacher asked you to assist, not kaveh. he went quiet again, and you’d much rather have him yelling at you than overthinking the situation after all this.

“how’s teucer?” you asked as he hissed whenever you’d place a piece of tape on his knee.

“w-why do you care? can you be any more gentle?” you looked up at him and kept working. you weren’t any gentler, you just worked slower to make it look like you were. he fell for it easily.

“he’s fine. he just graduated elementary—ow, school.” he responded after a minute passed.

“that’s good.” you said in quieter-than-usual tone. you couldn’t deny it was still awkward between you two. you hadn’t had a conversation like this in practically years, and you never thought you would have to. “so what exactly happened out there? you trip or something?” you knew he didn’t trip. you also knew that ajax had a tendency to overestimate himself, overall causing him more harm than good.

“the turf must’ve been off.” he said looking away. ajax was well aware he let himself get cocky. it was the final minutes of the game and he wanted to end it off strong. in doing so, he got himself a torn acl. good going ajax.

“mhm..”

“what? don’t believe me?” before you could answer the question, your teacher walked in. the first thing ajax asked was if they won the game or not. his “half touchdown” didn’t count, leaving them still tied.

“we won. but it was still a close call.”

ajax looked like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. he was already upset with his injury, and a loss especially with their title as undefeated would be 10x worse. you tried to look normal, but in truth, you were a little happy for the team. after all, you had some sense of school pride.

“your mom is outside. i’ve talked to her already and explained the injury in length. please focus on resting, then let’s talk about your next games.” with that, your teacher left you both alone again.

“can you walk?” you asked.

“i’ll try.” he said wincing as he got up. you went to his side and put his arm around you. it was silent. you helped him to the parking lot, occasional swears were heard from him. you said his mom waiting outside of the car.

“oh sweetie!” ajax’s mom held him tightly.

“hi mom, i’m fine.” his words were muffled into her shoulder.

“oh goodness, let’s get you in the car!” she helped him into the passanger seat. they spoke to each other in russian, it sounded like he was getting scolded. it was none of your business anyway. after doing so, she came back out.

“y/n? i remember you!” she said, giving you a hug.

“hi mrs tartaglia.” ajax’s mom had a soft spot for you. she’d always pack you extra food, and would never fail to treat you like one of her own, it made you happy. due to the circumstances, you hadn’t seen her in what felt like years.

“how’ve you been? we’ve missed you!” her hand stayed on your shoulder, her voice was genuine. but who exactly did she mean by “we”?

“i’ve been alright, thanks for asking.”

“ajax still talks about you, you should come over some time! teucer and tonia miss you!”

huh?

did you hear that right?

maybe it she didn’t actually mean it like that, why would ajax still be talking about you?

ajax rolled down the window and stuck his head out.

“mom i’m hurting let’s go.” he half shouted.

“alright, alright. i’ll see you soon hopefully, y/n! thank you for looking after ajax!” she said with a warm smile as she got back in the car before you could say a word. you simply waved and smiled back at her. you glanced over for a second, seeing ajax on his phone. you didn’t understand. did ajax really stil talk about you? you’d have a lot to tell kaveh..

the two of them left the parking lot in their black tahoe suv. you just stood and watched. you cursed to yourself. you couldn’t understand why ajax’s words pulled at your heartstrings a little. you were confused. and things would only get more confusing from there.

[fatuismooches]

How do the Harbingers spend Christmas/the holidays with their lover? What do they do with the reader?

Imagine spending Christmas with the Harbingers, set in a modern world. [I also listened to Last Christmas while writing this. Maybe that will enhance your reading.]

Pierro never had time for Christmas before. The holidays always flew by for him, since he was always so busy working. Or more like, he continued to work as there was no reason for him not to. He had no one to spend time with, so why should he take a break? That was until you slid into his life and forcibly stopped him from doing that ever again, literally scolding him for even thinking about not being home for the holidays. Though, he doesn’t really know what to do. I mean, he’s aware of what people do during these times, but do you want to do all of that? How do you celebrate? What you came to realize was that he doesn’t like to do much during the holidays. All he really wants to do is spend time with you. And so, he is content with pretty much anything you choose to do.

Really, Pierro has come to enjoy and appreciate even the very simple things that occur between the two of you, that may seem boring to others. Reading out the complicated instructions on a package or recipe, even stealing his coat in public (which he always tries to hide from the eyes of others due to embarrassment, and also not wanting others to see you.) Reading Christmas novels with you comes to be one of his favorite traditions. It may not be a typical Christmas, but it’s one with you, and that’s all that matters to Pierro.

Capitano is really amazing during the holidays. Why? Because it’s always cold and wintery and he gives the best cuddles during these times. I don’t know why but I can see him unironically liking ugly Christmas sweaters. You originally brought him one as a joke but he actually started to wear it around the house. Most of the time you don’t mind because laying on his chest with it on is very soft and nice. Capitano is also the type to just go along with whatever you say because he rarely ever argues with you, plus he has no idea how to be festive so he just follows your lead. You find this adorable since he’s usually regarded as the captain who everyone follows, but when he’s with you, he’s hovering over your shoulder trying to mimic your movements.

You handle all of the cooking and stuff along those lines. It’s not like Capitano can’t cook, but rather, every time he tries to handle the ingredients, they always get up wrangled or mashed up due to his extreme strength (he apologizes so seriously every time and you have to hold yourself back from dying of laughter.) He feels bad for not helping with anything, so you let him do the mixing and beating parts. (Do not let him crack an egg.) Though, Capitano handles all of the heavy lifting. You two always get a lot of stares in the supermarket, because there’s this tall, hulking man, trailing behind you carrying dozens of items easily, while you’re leading him around. He doesn’t even let you hold a purse or bag. Singlehandedly carries the tree up the stairs as well. Capitano comes to enjoy the holiday more than he thought. He has some stories to tell his troops now.

Dottore on Christmas is… honestly, I don’t know what to write. He is not a festive man at all, does not care about it whatsoever. He will stand there and watch you if you try to put up lights or a tree and laugh when you fail. You will not be able to convert him so I don’t suggest trying. At the very least, you can try to put on a Christmas movie. He will critique it, point out the awful cliches, the overused plot points, the corny romance, and much more. You hear more of him talking than the actual movie, but it’s the time together that matters, right?

Though, if there’s one thing he appreciates, it’s the delicious food. Zandik did not care much for the taste of food before, only viewing it as a form of sustenance, but he can’t deny that your cooking is exquisite. However, he likes to experiment a lot of course, so there have been times he added random ingredients behind your back. You don’t find out until you tasted the final product - it either tastes God-awful or surprisingly good! In general, a frequent pastime for the two of you is making a small batch of a new recipe, and Zandik throwing in whatever he thinks will somehow enhance the flavor. Either way, he is smiling maliciously and eating it since the taste does not matter much to him. Curse that maniac genius meanie. >:(

Columbina enjoys the holidays a normal amount. She really likes shopping for cute clothes for the two of you, getting Christmas drinks, eating sugar cookies and hot chocolate, and all of the other sweet things couples do around this time. Around the holidays she gets especially clingy and cuddly - it’s her way of showing how grateful she is for you. Columbina also loves to steal your sweaters too. She likes to take photos with Christmas filters with you and post them to the group chat - the ones that add Santa hats and beards, or reindeer antlers, or falling snowflakes - you name it. She likes to take photos in general - she is really photogenic, in your opinion. Even when she’s not posing, she manages to look so beautiful especially when it’s snowing.

On Christmas day it is a challenge to get yourself and her out of bed. Columbina literally holds you hostage in her arms, refusing to let your warmth leave her. She would honestly spend the day in bed with you and some snacks while watching movies if you didn’t force her to get out of bed with the promise of gifts and more cuddles later. Overall, Christmas with her is sweet and endearing. She’s always near you, likes to drape yourself over you when you’re opening your gift, and giggles in your ear. Smothers you with kisses by the time the day is up.

Arlecchino on Christmas is surprisingly sweet. You would think that she spends it alone, but in recent years, she had begun to spend the holiday in the orphanage she had opened up not long ago. Arlecchino and you always make sure that kids have delectable dinner on Christmas day. There’s always a really long table with chairs and plates for all of the dozens of kids. (They tend to fight over who gets to sit around Auntie Arlecchino and you, which secretly embarrasses her.) She is also very good at wrapping gifts. Arlecchino became a master of the skill after helping to wrap dozens of gifts for the children at her orphanage. In the days coming to the holidays, you two wrap gifts for the kids after she teaches you how to do it efficiently.

After all the kids are put to bed after an eventful day, she likes to spend some time with you on her lap near the fireplace, maybe some wine too to wind down. Arlecchino has never been a very wordy or gushy person, so it greatly surprises you when she confesses how thankful she is for you, and how she loves you very much for staying with her. (The children will never stop bringing up how they found the two of you asleep together the next day.)

Pulcinella (platonic!) has seen and experienced a variety of Christmases. He knows the dos and don’ts of how to celebrate. He knows which decorations go with each other, what theme to do this year, the kinds of food people would like the most, and more. He shows you every step of his planning, wanting you to carry on the traditions. However, the one thing he won’t teach you is his secret stash of scrumptious recipes that he refuses to give to you until he’s in his grave. You can whine all you want but he is not giving you that mac and cheese recipe.

He does not have any family left besides you so he encourages you to invite your friends over for Christmas. You invite your friend group (the Harbingers) and even though he’s seen them a few times before, he always scrutinizes them carefully to analyze who you’re hanging out with (especially Dottore - heavily on Dottore…) You all have a good time - he usually leaves you alone with your friends as he doesn’t want to intrude on your youth. But after everyone leaves, he likes to watch these old black-and-white Christmas films with you and tell you about how back in his day… *insert lots of stories and his grandpa rambling.*

Scaramouche has never cared for the holidays. He had long been estranged from his mother, having cut contact with her, therefore having no one to be with during the festive times. But Kunikuzushi declared to himself and everyone that he did not care. It didn’t bother him as he saw families shopping for the holidays, or couples getting Christmas-themed drinks together. Hmph, he couldn’t care less. Well, that was until you came into his life, and brought the holiday spirit with you. When you wake up one day, all excited and way too early for his liking, taking a bunch of utensils and cooking stuff out, retrieving oval lights he didn’t even know you had, Kuni questions you in a sleepy stupor - what the hell are you doing? After you recovered from that jaw-dropping statement, you immediately exclaim about the holidays and how you must prepare! There was no time to waste! 

But Scara just rolls his eyes and slumps back into bed, confusing you. And that’s when it clicks - your lover has probably never understood the point of holidays like these, which stemmed from his lack of love and familial bonds during his upbringing. He most likely thought this was stupid and a waste of time. So you gently introduce the idea to him. You ask him to help you bake cookies (to which you have to add less sugar since he doesn’t like sweets.) He begrudgingly helps you make a small Christmas dinner, and when you teasingly throw some flour at him, he returns it ten times more. You teach him how to wrap gifts, too. 

He ends up admitting that all of the activities were oddly comforting. Scaramouche opts for the more homely and loving aspect of Christmas, not caring much for the gaudy extra decorations or tree or whatever. It takes him a couple of Christmases to truly warm up, but deep down he can’t deny that spending time with you on the holidays is something he secretly looks forward to every year. Perhaps one day his mother could join the two of you. One day, maybe.

Sandrone was not very interested in the holidays either, more because she had better things to do rather than to partake in some silly little celebration. Why would she care about such things when she could be researching? Even as a child she saw it as useless, preferring to lock herself in her room doing far more productive tasks. Well, that changed when you came along, begging her to at least semi-join you in your favorite traditions. For the first time in her life, she finds herself helping you haul a small tree into your shared place and making ornaments out of her spare parts from engineering. Also, Sandrone likes to observe people on Christmas with you. Seeing people flood the stores searching for a last-minute gift, or even slip on snow, she finds it amusing and interesting.

If you’d like she would make her robots hang up the decorations instead so that you could just relax with her (she was getting a bit annoyed at how your presence was always so far away.) After spending the days with you, Sandrone finds the idea of the holidays a bit more appealing now. (She began to dress up her robots in small Christmas outfits that the two of you sewed together, like elves and reindeer. She would die of embarrassment if anyone else saw.)

La Signora gets invited to a lot of Christmas parties and always wears a new dress to each of them. Can’t be seen wearing the same outfit to an event. Though after she met you, she decided to spend less time going to these parties and spend more time with you. How, you ask? She’ll host her own party of course, with her darling lover. Signora dolls you up real good and makes sure you look absolutely stunning. She wants everyone to know that you two belong to each other, to not come near her territory. (The message comes through loud and clear.) Signora is an excellent host, but she never leaves your side for too long. Takes over uncomfortable conversations for you and watches out for any possible weirdos who try to talk to you. She makes a toast to you and praises you which everyone claps to. Even if you don’t like large gatherings, she still manages to make it feel good.

After everything is finished, she likes to spend some alone time with you. It is late in the night, but Christmas is not over yet, she reminds you. Rosalyne seems to be the type to enjoy slow dancing with you, chuckling as you step on her feet sometimes. Watching her sway her hips and twirl you around is simply enchanting. I can see her ending the night by drinking some wine and little snacks, talking until you both fall asleep.

Pantalone loves Christmas because he now had a reasonable excuse to spoil you with gifts without getting reprimanded by you. No, really, he does not hold back. The gifts are piled so high that you can barely see the Christmas tree anymore, the only thing peeking out was the star at the top. Pantalone has a list that he makes in the months coming to December. Every time you show even the slightest bit of interest in something, whether you stare at it for a second or offhandedly mention that it looks cool, it’s getting added to the list. You get items you barely remember seeing yet Pantalone’s laser memory reminds you of the exact moment of when you commented on it while he smiles proudly. You honestly probably have a whole room dedicated to the miscellaneous gifts you get from him.

Also the kind of guy who will always deeply cherish whatever you get him. He especially likes homemade gifts - he finds that idea of you going out of your way to handcraft him something so incredibly sweet. Puts it in his office so he can look at it while he’s working. Of course, Pantalone also likes to take you out to scenic spots for dinner. Shamelessly books the whole restaurant and makes sure you two get the best view, with lots of glazed snow and five-star courses.

Childe adores the holidays, mostly because he genuinely loves spending time with his family. They bring him so much joy, and when the first Christmas with you as his lover rolls around? He’s so eager and excited for you to join the tradition. Yes, he had invited to you spend Christmas with him and his family before, but that was when you two were just friends. Now it’s completely different, Childe insists. And no, there is no possibility of getting out of this. Do you have to work? Too bad, he’s personally going to your boss and politely forcing them to give you your rightfully deserved days off. 

Expect to spend a lot of time with his siblings - Tonia, Anthon, and Teucer. Decorating the tree? Check. Putting up Christmas lights? Check. Ugly Christmas sweaters? Check. No matter how corny or embarrassing it is, Childe is convincing the whole family to join him. (Though it’s not very hard considering how much his siblings look up to him. They tend to comply easily.) His new, favorite tradition though? Kissing you under the mistletoe. Literally recruits his siblings to randomly place them all over the house, and even in the middle of his conversations with you. Ajax is quite devious and greedy when it comes to you.

Bonus - Poly!Harbingers: Friendsgiving with poly! Harbingers except it's for Christmas (and you all live in the same mansion.) Dottore is banned from bringing anything for obvious reasons and Columbina is too because her cooking is inedible most of the time. Childe is the best cook and makes most of the feast. I think Signora is also a good cook so she helps him too. Pantalone buys everything and Sandrone’s robots makes sure the place is decked out in the prettiest decorations. Arlecchino and Columbina cuddle you with the static of some movie in the background - Columbina is trying to feed you sweets before the feast while Arlecchino is trying to stop her. Dottore tells you about all the miserable people he’s seen so far while he laughs (typical of him.) Scaramouche disses the food despite enjoying it, nearly causing a fight. Pierro is making sure things like that don’t happen and oversees everything. Capitano struggles to do any of these delicate tasks so he kind of just stands there with you and makes sure you aren’t doing anything. Though, he puts you on his shoulders so you can place the star on top of the Christmas tree!

Even if your cooking is the most mediocre thing there, all of them will be eating it up like their last meal. The house gets very loud especially when they start passive-aggressively fighting over whose food you liked the best. They take pictures of you doing everything - by the tree, in the snow, opening gifts, catching you off guard while eating, while you’re drunk - they have a shared album of over a thousand pictures by the end of the night. (They also make sure they all receive kisses from the dozens of hidden mistletoes around the house.) It is a very good and chaotic Christmas indeed.

[oh-koenig-my-koenig]

obligatory end of the year thank you post

thanks to everybody who followed and interacted ever since i started this sideblog - i'm enjoying writing very much at the moment, bringing my delulus to life, and it makes me happy to see that other people enjoy my silly drabbles as well - i really appreciate you all <3

Guten Rutsch (literally 'good slide (over to the new year)') as you say in german and a happy and healthy new year!

What would it be like to spend New Year's Eve with König?

This was brought to you by these pictures of Peter Steele with that fucking cap on and the fact that metalhead!König (like every König, really) would be so desperate to have you sitting on his face.

(cw: nsfw mdni, smutty smutt, bit of butt stuff)

“What are you doing?”, I ask him, surprise painting my voice. I just walked back into the living room where we’ve been sitting, listening to music, drinking red wine, waiting for the new year to start.

“Nothing.”, he says, the typical devilish grin playing around the corners of his mouth. It sure doesn’t look like nothing.

He’s lounging on his couch. The black shirt that had been buttoned up all evening isn’t buttoned up anymore, showing off his chest that is wrapped in a harness. The sleeves are rolled up, his tattooed forearms on full display. Handcuffs around his wrists, the ones with the soft cuffs that he already used on me once or twice. A leather cap sitting on top of his head. His long dark hair flowing over his shoulders.

I stare at him with a slacked jaw which makes him chuckle. “Like what you’re seeing, huh?”, he asks teasingly. I nod, finally picking up my chin from the floor, coming closer. He’s looking like a kinkily wrapped up present, waiting patiently for me to finally do something with him. To him.

“Lie down.”, I tell him briefly, and he does as I order, lying down on the soft cushions, his legs hanging over the one side of the couch because even his own furniture isn’t big enough for him.

I get rid of my clothes in an instant, climbing over him. Hovering my pussy in front of his face, while I place my thighs beside his head.

I smile down at him, teasing him, by pulling back up when he goes to nudge his nose against the wet folds. He groans, jerking up a bit, which lets the leather cap topple from his head. I take it and put it own my own head, grinning at him teasingly. His bound wrists keep him from taking what he wants.

“Please just fucking sit on my face.”, he groans, sounding desperate.

“So impatient.”, I reprimand him, getting up again, giving him a full view of everything without a chance to put his mouth on me.

“You’re killing me.”, he whines which puts a sly smile on my lips. But I finally do as he wants placing my pussy on his face. Still hovering a bit to let him breathe.

“Sit down.”, he growls against the wetness, lapping at it, dipping his tongue into me.

“I don’t wanna suffocate you.”, I protest, and the look he gives me lying there under me speaks volumes.

“I said, fucking sit, don’t worry about me.”, he repeats his words. And I follow his order, pressing my wet pussy onto his lips, letting my weight come down.

The hum I feel against my core is deep and satisfied as he starts to really lick and suck, nibbling at my clit, pushing his tongue into me repeatedly.

I hold onto the armrest in front of me, moving my hips at my own pace, grinding against his mouth, desperately looking for release.

He shimmies down a bit until he’s not eating my pussy anymore, but my ass. I look down in surprise, his hungry gaze up at me a clear indicator that he’s content where he is. Oh god. My thighs start to shake when his tongue dips inside me, fucking my ass. Oh fuck. My hand wanders to my clit, my fingers feverishly circling it, as I’m chasing the high. I cum on top of him, the gushing wetness hitting his face as he laps up everything I give him.

“I need to be inside you.”, he pleads, finally coming up for air again, and I get up from his face and free his wrists – something he could have easily done himself, but he was waiting for me to do.

As soon as he’s free though, he lifts me, puts me down on the couch, my back against the soft cushions, and pulls out his dick. He groans as he grabs it, looking painfully hard, precum smeared all over his tip. I grin up at him, a bratty comment already on the tip of my tongue.

It falters when he pushes my legs back and lines his dick up, pressing it into me. The sultry smirk on my face contorts to an O, mewls dropping from my lips as I stretch around him, until he bottoms me out, the familiar sting of pain dissipating into pleasure. Taking his length still has me struggling a tiny bit every time, but I relish the feeling that comes after.

"Good girl.", he coos, stealing back the leather cap placing it on his head again, then he places his hands right beside my head on the back of the couch. The praise washes over me, letting me relax around him, then he starts to roll his hips against me, fucking me into the cushions.

I scramble to hold on with the pace he’s going at, my hands clawing at his pecs and stomach, leaving red streaks, until I get his harness into my grip, my fingers clasping onto the soft leather strap in the front. My moans and his grunts, accompanied by the hard slapping of skin against skin, intermingle with the music still playing from the speakers.

We get carried away and miss the countdown to the new year, though the sound and lights from fireworks in the distance outside should have given us a hint.

When we look at the time again, it’s already 00:34, but it doesn’t matter. König only complains for a little bit, that apparently we didn’t hear the most important bell in Austria – the Pummerin – ring in the new year. I tell him he better stop complaining about missing the sound of a bell over being ballsdeep in my pussy.

Which only makes him laugh. He takes my chin between his thumb and pointer and kisses me slow and sweet to make me shut up, also getting his new year’s kiss for good luck. Then he looks for a song on his phone. When I ask what he’s doing, he tells me he wants to dance the Wiener Walzer with me. To An der schönen blauen Donau by Johann Strauß Jr.

“It’s tradition.”, he explains.

“But I don’t know how to do the waltz.”, I say, looking up at him all confused, still trying to puzzle the two together, the huge tattooed man and dancing the waltz.

“Don’t worry, I’ll show you.”, he says, grabbing me and showing me the position you’re supposed to do a waltz in. Putting my left hand on his shoulder which makes me dig the fingertips into the ink covered skin. Putting his right hand on my lower back, letting it drop deeper than it actually supposed to go. I shoot him a look, but he only smiles at me apologetically. Bringing our other hands together. Then he shows me the steps. The “Down, Up, Up”. Leading me in the dance.

So, we dance the Wiener Walzer together, rather poorly, but that doesn’t matter.

He’s still in his harness and jeans, the stupidly hot cap on his head. I put on his shirt, haphazardly buttoning up the front. That’s how we twirl through the living room, both barefoot and a little tipsy.

I stumble over his feet which makes us both trip and we almost tumble onto the floor. He catches me though, the strong arms wrapping around my waist.

I start laughing and I can’t stop anymore, lying in his arms giggling. Grinning from one ear to the other. He joins in until we’re both holding our stomachs with how hard we’re laughing. I look up at him again, the way he’s looking at me is taking my breath away and my heart is just so fucking full.

We dance some more, we drink some more and we fuck some more. Truly, this man is insatiable. Until we finally fall into bed in the early morning hours.

I thought he might have the decency to let us sleep in, but apparently, we need to watch the Neujahrskonzert by the Vienna Philharmonics. That’s tradition as well.

That’s how we sit in front of the TV, all bundled up in a blanket. My head hurts from the little hangover I have because I don’t do well with red wine. And my pussy is sore which I complain to him about playfully, but he only asks me if he needs to kiss it better. I roll my eyes and smack his right pec, which pulls a laugh from his lips.

I snuggle into him, watching the classical concert, and think about how I don’t ever want to leave his arms again.

I couldn't resist putting in some Austrian New Year's traditions... so if you're interested: info on the new year's concert here and here, where to possibly watch it tomorrow here, video of the The Blue Danube Waltz with the Pummerin at the start and the ballet company of the Vienna State Opera dancing here - thanks for reading <3

~ More Stuff in the Masterlist ~

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Twisted Wonderland x FemReader | Maid Milker

“No. No way! I’m not selling myself just so you can get more thirsty perverts bothering me!”

Since it had recently been discovered that you were the only female in a college meant for boys you could hardly breathe without someone openly creeping on you. First it was just students staring longingly, before it started becoming confessions, and then open stalking. There was even an official fan club that made a point to broadcast every single part of your life private or not. There was no filter. So of course when one of the few people who you had an established friendship (kinda) asked you to exploit just that.

“Awwww, shrimpy! Don’t you wanna work with me? We’d have so much fun!”

He leaned his head on yours letting more of his weight weigh on you as you struggled to keep up right.

“I’d love to but not in a maid dress! Do you know how bad those things can be for girls like me?”

“What could possibly be stopping you other than the overwhelming support of your club?” Jade interjected slyly picking at the fact that you had a literal fan base that would praise you for simply walking.

“Not. My. Club. And panty shots.”

“Easy fix. We can invest in some shorts.” Azul, confident he pushed his glasses up and shrugged; you grimaced.

“I’d have to shave.”

“Stockings.”

“Those get hair?” Floyd directed at his brother who tilted his head. “Apparently.”

“Ugh harassment.”

“Do you even have to ask? Jade and Floyd.”

“Ugh. What about...my dignity!” You hated that this was you picking at straws here.

“The whole lounge will be on the same rules as you and what's wrong with a student earning some much needed cash. If people think it’s so funny you’re working so hard it’d behoove them to help out of pity.”

“Hmmm...” you brought your index and thumb to your chin in hopes that it could come up with some other reason why this wouldn’t work. Finding that you couldn’t find one you saw no problem agreeing as long as you cleared some things up.

“I get paid and I keep all my tips?”

“Yes.”

“Anyone I ask to be removed for behavior will be removed?”

“Of course.”

“...and I get to keep the costume.”

“...”

“That wasn’t a question.”

“Well...”

“Azul!”

“Okay okay. It’s yours.”

“Thank you, well then I’ll gladly be in your service.”

______________________________________________________________

"I'm surprised you let that go, Azul." The eel-mer spoke without looking up from the modal he was counting, sporting his typical smile.

"Patience, Jade. We don't need golden eggs when we have the goose." Azul reassured writing in his ledger with a confident tone.

"What goose?" Floyd was leaned over the couch behind Azul.

"Its a land expression, you should have covered that in literature already."

"We did but someone wasn't in the mood to listen for the whole of it."

"He~he."

The octo-mer didn't look up from what he was writing but he did stop to speak seriously to the eel.

"If we want this plan to work though you'll need to be in the mood to listen...can you do that at least."

"He~he I'm always in the mood when Shrimpy's involved!"

______________________________________________________________

“Haha, I can’t belie-haha-you agreed to this!” 

Ace was having a field-day, as you expected but you had thrown out your embarrassment and were going to proudly wear your themed maid outfit in purple and black. 

“Shut up Ace! Before I spit in your drink!” 

You whispered the last bit as Jade strongly asked that you refrain from giving any fluid of yours without having paid for the service specifically. Feeling satisfied as Ace held his hands up in submission you looked at Deuce who looked at a loss for words, opening and closing his mouth as he looked at your outfit.

“Got something to say, Deuce?”

You mockingly taunted him in case he thought about hopping on the bully-(Y/n) bandwagon.  He continued to flutter before he finally gathered himself looking down then up at you.

“I-uh, like your stockings.” He gulped, diverting his attention for awhile before returning to its latest focus. You immediately perked, balancing the trey to let your hand slide past the fluff of your dress to pull at the fabric.

“Like it? I was originally going to go with tights that went up all the way-“ you let go causing the strap to slap against the plush of your thigh, adding emphasis to your statement. “But I decided these jock-straps were too cute to pass up.” 

You dismiss yourself walking back to the kitchen as Deuce blushes full force as he replays the whole interaction in his mind. Not just your words but the prideful look in your eye as you snapped the strap against your thigh, leaving the Heartslabyul student reeling with his imagination. Just across from him, Ace too was replaying the view of you walking away. It was just too easy. 

“Hate to watch you go but love to watch you leave.”

He had to come here every night. 

“Oh, here’s your underwater mocha and your sweet oyster tart.”

Riddle couldn’t help looking, it was what everyone was here to do anyway. But that was why he came: to make sure everyone was doing just that. So why was it so much worse for him when that was all he could do.

“A-and you're sure this is consensual?”

“Yeah, no worries. Besides, the modal I’m getting for this will have me and Grim eating happily for days!”

“If foods what your worried about, I’d gladly put some on your plate.” 

The baker spoke smoothly talking in that calming voice everyone relaxed at totally masking the true intention.

“I appreciate that Trey but with your sweets I’d definitely pack on a few and I don’t need that.” You joked, oblivious to the green and orange eyes flickering to your stomach and thighs before flashing such charming smiles.

“Well, I wouldn’t mind that at all (Y/n).”

“I agree, (Y/n). You’d look stunning, even if you racked on a hundred more.”

“Aw gee thanks guys!”

You couldn’t deny you felt an intensity when they spoke your name but you couldn’t focus on whatever heat they might have spurred especially when you were being called to serve your next order. 

“Oh sorry guys, I have to go now. Enjoy your drinks and treats.”

You scurried off only for Riddle to make an interesting discovery. “For only 2,000 madol you can have your waiter hand feed you? I-it’s better that we check and make sure this er-practice is healthy or not, yes?”

“I wholeheartedly agree.” “Count me in, boss.”

“You have some nerve accepting business from the fish.” Leona spoke in his gruff voice immediately having you reel back to his table. In the booth he sat on the cushion by himself with the other being shared by Jack and Ruggie. You nervously laughed as you waited for Ruggie to finally speak after eying you up and down.

“And how much would you be willing to do this for?”

You laughed at him, thinking he was joking when his sky blues were staring unwavering right back at you. Recovering you thought for a moment.

“I guess it would be a lot, not including whatever liberties I’ll even allow. But it’s not like anyone would pay for me to actually do something like this.”

You nervously chuckled only for the knowing smirks spread on Leona and Ruggie's face as you once again realized this was no joke. With a cough from the forgotten guest you looked at Jack who seemed to fidget as he blushed.

“While I don’t think you're anywhere near the level being a maid, you still look...very pretty.”

“Aww thank you Jack!” You struck a pose with a heart before walking off to attend your duties leaving Ruggie to relentlessly be smacked by the wagging of Jack’s tail not seeming to mind as he dazed off to watch you work.

“Oh manifique mademoiselle trickster you’ve rendered me a slave to your beauty and I’m floored to witness you in such a state!” As dramatic and as loud as Rook could be he never failed to make you blush at his compliments as you tried to take the tables order down.

Vil looked off to the side, eying an occupied twin at the bar before turning to look up at you. Smoothly he twirled his fingers around the lace of your maid dress lightly brushing against the now exposed skin of your thigh. 

“I didn’t realize you liked to play dress-up (Y/n)...” you blubbered trying to find another topic as his light playing turned into suggestive pulling before you bashfully pushed down your dress. 

“Next time you do we’ll have a private fashion show (Y/n), that way you can really learn how to play your role...properly.”

Regrettably Epel never properly spoke to you; he was too interested in the way the apron and dress hugged your body.  Making certain to burn it into his memory for an apple carving later for at least he’d be allowed to lick that version of you. 

“(Y/n)!!”

Shouting as if he hadn’t just sat with you in science class, he launches himself at you immediately causing you to spill a drink you were carrying for another table. Eventually breaking from his hug, thanks to Jamil he begins to apologize.

“Aw I’m so sorry (Y/n)! I’ll pay for it and I’ll take you to eat here.”

He seems so happy and with a smile like that you struggled with what to say, thankfully Jamil had that covered he pulled out a hanky he kept on hand.

“Can’t you see Kalim, she’s working right now. And you ruined her appearance.”

“I did? How? You look perfect to me.”

“Aww thanks Kalim.”

Distracted by his musings you almost missed how Jamil kneeled down to rub at the sugary residue on your thighs. Gulping down a blush he tried his best to clean, even though it made no progress at all and he knew that. 

“Heheeh Jamil that tickles! I appreciate the help but no worries. In fact I’ll get you two seated right away.”

You guided the two to an empty booth completely unaware of the sorrowful face Kalim was pulling as Jamil pocketed the handkerchief. With a playful flick of his tongue Jamil hurried ahead as Kalim caught up.

Idia was hardly keeping it together seeing you run around taking orders from customers and running around with food on a tray had fueled the fantasy of the cliche maid cafe. He was practically already dying from the sheer amount of noise and extroverts that had gathered here but he most certainly was revived in some strange way to see you in your maid uniform. He refused to bring Ortho with him as this was his special mission on high difficulty and he didn't want Ortho tainted by your succubus charm, of course not because you might be discovered by yet another love rival. When you finally did run up to him a delicious sheen of sweat coated your arms and your forehead wonderfully accompanied but the sticky residue a drink must have made on your thighs-oh seven your thighs it sent him into another frenzy as he was barely able to recite his order. 

“Oh, you want the ocean blue smoothie?”

He nodded.

“With the lip mark and a quarter drunk?”

He nodded again.

You looked at him for a bit before shrugging. ‘Everyone at some point must want to feel less lonely.’

So in front of him in the most secluded booth there was you bringing his drink and reapplied your matching lipstick before happily indulging in India’s drink. He didn’t realize you’d do it in front of him! But he wasn’t complaining, all the more grateful for his hidden body-cam as he watched your throat bob drinking his drink. He left happily holding the to-go cup that had your lip marks on it. He was going to...cherish the trophy for a successful mission.

Lilia traversed through enough of the internet to know about the anime-maid-obsession. He won’t lie, for awhile he too was intrigued before moving on but seeing you pad around in such a cute replica reignited it for him. 

“It’s a shame you aren’t in-character that way you would have had to do what your master said!”

“Hehe, well than Master Lilia, here's your Pearl Gray iced tea.”

The joking you did with him made the old fae quite excited but he could handle himself until he got back to his dorm. Yes he could wait till he was in his lonesome. He could wait until then to imagine how helpless you’d be under him as he rearranged your guts on the dining table for mocking your master. So all he did was giggle and wink because he was grown. And that’s just what grown fae do. Wait until later to enact his desires.

Malleus didn’t understand why you were wearing such attire and he didn’t appreciate the way it made everyone ogle you like you were free for the taking. It upset him but anger was quelled when from his position he could smell you so clearly and the tightness of your uniform made it all the more appealing to watch. He was angry but when you happily flashed the cuff links he gifted you his anger subsided...kind of. If you were willing to show this much to the general populace than surely you’d have something far more intimate to show him. With that he indulged in his beverage excusing the involuntary flip of your skirt as moved to serve your guests.

Silver did see you in the maid outfit, if only briefly before getting comfortable enough to snooze again. But being awoken to a soft but forceful hold on your head does something. Grasping the crown of his head, nails barely grazing his scalp was a feeling he hadn’t expected to invoke such a reaction out of him. He did moan but thankfully it seemed normal enough that you didn’t question it when he sat upright.

“I’m glad I caught you, that would have been an awful waste of madol. Now Sebek, did you want anything?”

Oh he did want something, to chew you out over your wild attempts to flaunt yourself for all these men and for failing to properly woo his master. But that was before you reached past him to stop Silver from falling in his sleep into his drink. You successfully caught the human, completely oblivious to the half fae you inadvertently shoved your chest into. He’s probably suffocating but is he going to stop you while you right his fellow guard from falling? No! Especially not when you smell so good-and this--this is a part of his training! Yes! To be able to withstand the wiles of a human female for the sake of his master. Right! But it seems he’s failed this time as he won’t be able to properly utter a sentence until he’s forgotten the softness he nearly suffocated in.

“Uh-uhm-uh-er-“

“I’ll just get you some water, hun.”

______________________________________________________________

Finally draping yourself over the couches armrest you let out an exasperated sigh. On your feet all day, running around playing maid for everyone in the Monstro Lounge was beyond exhausting. You were glad it was the end. You walked into the office where Azul seemed to have finished organizing his contracts. Sitting in a nearby chair and on the floor respectively was Jade and Floyd. They smiled at you as your tiredness showed nodding at them before leaning playfully into Azul. Breath tickling his ear you asked.

“Now can I have my pay? My hour’s up.” You yawned, leaning your head onto his shoulder as his face bloomed a concerning shade of red.

“I-it’s l-late isn’t it? Don’t you want to stay the night.?” 

You yawned again. “No why?”

Jade slid in behind you letting you lean back on him as he swayed you through the door and near a storage area. 

“We can all see it, we've worked you dry, (Y/n). So take this time to sleep and I’ll take you back in the morning.”

Floyd appeared tossing a Monstro lounge t-shirt that was way too many sizes big for you. Looking at their sharp smiles you relented, excusing yourself to change before returning and happily passing out on whoever’s bed they guided you to. 

In the meantime the three stood menacingly over your abandoned maid outfit. Jade pulled out a checklist and Azul got his wand ready. 

“Now who is on the top priority list for a copy.”

“Not including us, Malleus Draconia, Idia Shroud, and oddly enough Neige Leblanche.” 

“Alright then."

“Let’s get started then.”

[gotham-ruaidh]

Little Bit Better Than I Used To Be

Catch up: Chapter 1 (Starry Eyes) || Chapter 2 (Save Our Souls) || Chapter 3 (Dancing On Glass)|| Chapter 4 (Merry-Go-Round)|| Backstage (1) || Backstage (2) || Chapter 5 (Danger)|| Backstage (3) || Chapter 6A (Love Walked In) || Chapter 6B (Without You) || Backstage (4) || Chapter 7 (Stick To Your Guns) || Chapter 8 (Time For Change) || Backstage (5) || Chapter 9 (Take Me To The Top) || Backstage (6) || Chapter 10 (Home Sweet Home) || Backstage (7) || Chapter 11a (Nightrain) || Chapter 11b (Nothing Else Matters) || Chapter 12a (Handle With Care) || Chapter 12b (I’m So Tired of Being Lonely) || Chapter 13a (Angel) || Chapter 13b (She’s My Addiction) || Chapter 13c (Patience) || Chapter 14a (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14b (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14c (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 15a (Dreams) || Chapter 15b (I Sing A Song of Love) || Chapter 15c (You Can Do This If You Try) || Chapter 16 (Let That Feeling Grab You Deep Inside || Chapter 17A: Never Tear Us Apart || Chapter 17B: It’s Tough To Be Somebody, And It’s Hard Not To Fall Apart  || Chapter 17C: I’m Wishing, Lord, That I Was Stoned || Chapter 18: Turn The Page || Chapter 19A: When You’re Alone, Do You Let Go? || Chapter 19B: Heading For A Spin || Chapter 20A: I Don’t Need Nothing When I’m By Your Side || Chapter 20B: I'm Walkin' Down This Rocky Road ||| Also posted at AO3

Chapter 20C: You're The Only One Who Gets Through To Me

I feel good in your room Let's lock the world out Feels so good when we kiss Nobody ever made me crazy like this

-- "In Your Room", The Bangles (1988) [click here to listen]

North Carolina || February 1989

Darkness had settled on the cabin before Jamie re-emerged, hair damp, wearing jeans and a worn Eagles t-shirt.

He found Raymond in the kitchen, sitting at the kitchen table, working on a crossword puzzle. Raymond looked up as Jamie entered the room, and set down his pen.

Jamie sank into the chair across from Raymond. Sighed.

“I was going to apologize, but I think you would have told me that I didn’t need to.”

“You’re right.”

Jamie leaned on the table with his elbows, eyes down. “That hasn’t happened since we finished the tour. And it wasn’t even a bad one.”

“We’ll talk about that. How is Claire?”

“She’s in the shower. She…” Jamie swallowed. “I’m fucking nothing without her.” 

A beat.

“A few months ago, in the middle of the tour, we spent a weekend with Dougal and Gillian. Dougal said that I had traded my addiction to substances, for an addition to my wife. Do you think that’s true?”

Raymond thought about this for a long while. He waited for Jamie to sit up straight and look at him.

“Do you know the definition of the word ‘addicted’, Jamie?”

Jamie shook his head.

“It means, to be physically and mentally dependent on a particular substance, and unable to stop taking it without incurring adverse effects.”

Jamie lay his hands flat on the table. “Sounds pretty accurate to me.”

“Perhaps.” Raymond folded his arms against his chest. “But what about your music? Couldn’t you say the same about that?”

Jamie nodded.

“What about your family? Your friends?”

Jamie shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Yeah, but – ”

“I’m not discounting what Dougal said, Jamie. But what I am saying, is that it’s not so black and white. I love Dougal, but he can be a bit too…literal sometimes.”

Jamie smiled, faintly.

“Are you incredibly dependent on Claire, Jamie? Of course. But she’s your wife. You spend every moment of every day together when you’re at home, and the vast majority of your time together when you’re on the road. That’s not typical. And, you’re both addicts in recovery, and you keep each other accountable. It’s to be expected.”

Raymond sat back in his chair. “Now – the question is, whether the nature of your relationship with Claire tips over into being so close, so dependent, that it becomes problematic. Do you think it’s a problem?”

Jamie rubbed his face. “To the extent that even thinking about a life without her in it will cause me to spiral, yes. To the extent that I only hear her voice when I’m stuck in a spiral, yes. To the extent that the only way I can come back to myself from a spiral is by making love to her, yes.”

“I’m not saying that you need to cut any of that out of your life, Jamie. Know that, first and foremost.”

Raymond watched Jamie visibly relax. “I meant what I said to you before – that you need to nurture your connection. Something I hope you’re coming to know about me, is that I don’t use words lightly. What the two of you have built – how you love and protect each other – I’ve never seen that intensity in a married couple before.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“I hope you can understand that without drawing the right boundaries, it can be both. I hope you trust me when I say that I won’t do anything to test or damage your relationship with Claire. But you do need to broaden your levels of support, Jamie. Allow other people in. And create space for you, and Claire, to explore who you are without each other.”

“I know. I need to. I don’t want to use her up,” he whispered. “I want forever with her.”

“So,” Raymond said, so patiently, “Let me in a bit, please. Let me help you, too. I will help both of you.”

“It will make us stronger,” Jamie agreed. “But Doc, it’s so fucking hard…”

“Isn’t anything that’s hard to do, worthwhile?”

“It is.” Claire breezed into the kitchen, clad in sweatpants and one of Jamie’s flannel shirts, and kissed her husband on the cheek. “But thankfully I learned to use a crock pot to cook Uncle Lamb’s chili recipe a long time ago – it’s so much easier than cooking it on the stove. Who’s hungry?”