#does this guy even know they put him in a book

[matchingbatbites]

do i wanna know (if this feeling goes both ways)

Explicit | 3.5k | Female Steve Harrington, Creep Eddie Munson, Hate sex | Full tags on Ao3 Inspired by this art and this art, both by the incredible @2jihiir0.

Eddie Munson is the bane of Stephanie Harrington’s existence. 

The man is a menace. He's constantly making a scene, always stomping around on tables, hurling insults at jocks and shouting about something. Not to mention he's a fucking creep. Stevie has caught him hanging around during the girl's swim practice more than once, and he seems completely shameless when someone calls him out for leering at the cheerleaders.

What pisses Stevie off more than anything is that she's been hooking up with him on a semi-regular basis for the last four months, ever since she traded him a blowjob for a couple of joints at Beth Johnson’s birthday party. Not her best moment, she knows, but she was desperate for something to take her mind off the fact that she walked in on her boyfriend at the time fucking the birthday girl herself.

It devolved from there, with Eddie practically seducing her after swim practice a few days later, which ended with Stevie in the back of his van, better fucked than she had been in a while. It pained her to admit that Eddie the Freak is actually a good fucking lay, but their different social standing hadn't stopped her from seeking him out, or from accepting whenever he offered.

It's another normal Monday morning, and Stevie is swapping books in her locker when the smell of cigarettes and leather hits her just before a body presses up against her back. She knows who it is without even turning around and bites back an annoyed groan.

“What do you want, Munson?” she asks as she pulls out another book.

An arm drapes over her shoulder and Eddie leans in close as he says “Heard you went out with Jackson Greene on Friday. How’d that go for you, princess?”

Stevie rolls her eyes and makes a half-hearted attempt to shrug Eddie off that he ignores. “Why do you care?” 

Eddie hums and slips a finger under her sweater to snap her bra strap. A shudder runs down Stevie's spine and she hates how the simple action makes her stomach clench with desire. She jerks her arm back and digs her elbow into Eddie’s ribs in retaliation, but the man just chuckles. 

“Just curious. I wanted to hear your side of the story, since he was going around in gym earlier telling all the guys that he had you crying and begging for his dick.” He leans in, flooding the little space with his scent. “And that doesn’t really sound like the Ice Queen I know.”

That asshole. Stevie scoffs and reaches into her locker again. “Maybe he’s just better than you.” 

He wasn’t. Jackson was a clumsy fuck who couldn't even be bothered to warm Stevie up before he put his dick in her, and she definitely was neither crying nor begging for the few minutes he managed to last. But Eddie doesn’t need to know that.

Eddie hums and slides his hand down, slipping his fingers into the top of her shirt, resting against the swell of her breast. She doesn’t move a muscle, knowing that the slightest shift would mean anyone having a view of Eddie practically groping her.

“That’s what you said last time, too, about Andrew. But remind me whose dick you came running back to less than a week later, hm?”

Stevie’s face floods with heat and she knows he’s right, knows that four days after her date with Andrew Fisher found her in the back of Eddie’s van again, the man’s cock drilling into her in a way that no one else seems to be able to replicate.  She hates how much she craves it, and she’s gained a bit of a reputation with how much she’s been sleeping around, trying to find someone that can make her feel better than Eddie Munson does. No one’s been able to even compare, though, and she always finds her way back to his smug fucking face.

“Stevie, are you coming?”

The call from Carol snaps the tension that had been stretched so tight between them, and Eddie gives a parting “Maybe later, sweetheart,” before stepping away and heading down the hall.

He's so goddamn annoying.

Stevie slams her locker shut and ignores the wet spot she can already feel growing on her panties. She walks with Carol to their next class but barely takes anything in because she's too busy seething over Munson's audacity. She goes through the rest of the day thinking about him; watches another one of Eddie's tabletop sermons and hates him. Hates his voice, hates his clothes, hates his ostentatious attitude.

Most importantly, she hates that she can't stop coming back to him.

Sometimes in the moments after, when Stevie is coming down from her orgasmic high and Eddie's touch has shifted from a rough grab to a tender caress, she wishes things were different. She wishes that they were actually something other than fuck buddies, wishes that Eddie actually cared about her and not just about getting his dick wet. Stevie sees the way he cares for the people that are his, and sometimes she wishes she were one of them.

(When she's feeling particularly lonely, she tries not to think about all of the other girls who probably get Eddie's discount price, and usually fails.)

It's all dumb, wishful thinking from a girl who can't keep any boy around for more than a handful of dates. All thing's considered, Eddie is probably the longest "relationship" Stevie's had so far, even though they've never done anything that could be considered romantic. No, Eddie clearly only sees Stevie as a no strings attached way to get his rocks off, an easy lay whenever he needs to scratch the itch.

It's that thought that makes Stevie's bubbling frustration settle into a low simmer. Because if all Eddie sees her as is a cheap slut, then what's stopping her from treating him the same way? If she wants a good fuck without having to jump through hoops, then what's stopping her from using Eddie to get just that?

Hellfire usually meets on Fridays, but for the last few weeks they've had to switch to Mondays because of the upcoming school play. Today, Stevie is thankful for it because that means she knows exactly where to find Eddie. She makes her way through the emptying halls until she's at the door to the drama room.

Stevie doesn't bother knocking, just walks in like she owns the place and multiple sets of eyes instantly snap over to her. Eddie leans back in his chair, seemingly amused as he says “Well, if it isn't Hawkins’ beloved Ice Queen, here to grace us with her frigid presence. What can we do for you, highness?”

Stevie glances over the few other people in the room before her gaze locks back on Eddie. She straightens up a bit and puts on her most bitchy expression before replying with a curt “Club's canceled. We have business to take care of, Munson.”

Stevie knows how much this club means to Eddie. She's seen the passion and care he has for his so-called little sheepies, and she fully expects him to turn her away, to tell her to wait until after, or even until tomorrow. Stevie braces herself, ready to argue against any rebuff, so color her surprised when Eddie grins, all teeth and victory.

“You heard the queen, boys. Pack it up.”

There's a bit of protest that Eddie quickly shuts down - something that Stevie should not find as hot as she does, watching him command the room with ease - and shortly after her entrance, the members of the club are filing out of the room. "You caved pretty quick this time, princess. Jackson must have been a pretty shitty fuck for you to be claiming defeat so soon," he says as he leans forward in his seat, smug as fucking anything. It makes her so angry.

Stevie locks the door and goes over to Eddie, fists her hand in that dumb fucking t-shirt and pushes until the man is forced back into the chair behind him. Eddie's grin doesn't even twitch as he slouches back against the throne, and Stevie wants to slap him.

“Open your pants,” she snaps as she rucks up her skirt, and is pleased when Eddie scrambles to open his belt and shove his jeans and underwear down. She slips off her panties and climbs onto the chair, straddling Eddie’s lap as she takes his dick in hand. He’s already half-hard, and she gives it a few strokes to help him along as she says “Jesus, it’s always so easy to get you worked up. Fucking pathetic.”

Eddie barks a laugh that grates on Stevie's nerves. “You say that like your pussy’s not dripping onto my leg right now.”

"It's fucking not," Stevie objects, because it isn't. Her panties might have been damp for most of the day, but she's not worked up enough to be leaking like that.

"You sure?" Eddie snarks as he reaches down, surely intending to shove a finger or two into her wet cunt. Usually Stevie doesn't mind, welcomes it even - Eddie is too fucking clever with his hands, has made her go boneless with just his fingers more than once - but this time she slaps the hand away.

"Shut up, Munson," Stevie snaps. Eddie just grins and grabs her waist as she lines up and sinks down onto Eddie's cock. She bites back a whimper because, god, it really does just fill her so fucking perfectly. Not that she'd ever admit that to his face - it would only inflate his already massive ego, and that's the last thing she wants.

Eddie makes a punched out noise as Stevie drops the rest of the way. She gasps at the sudden stretch and doesn't move, taking a second to adjust. Eddie’s hands slide up into her top, pushing both it and her bra out of the way as he grabs at her tits.

“Hello girls,” he says, and Stevie barely has a chance to roll her eyes at the antics before Eddie is leaning in and sinking his teeth into her right nipple. She yelps a "Fuck!" and her hips jerk, causing them both to moan at the stimulation.

"Don't- Don't talk to my boobs," Stevie gets out after a second, and Eddie just grins.

"But they're so pretty," he says as he leans in and licks a wide stripe over the aching nub. He grabs at her other breast, sucking and groping until Stevie is squirming from the stimulation.

"Okay, okay, stop it," she snaps as she pushes Eddie back, wanting to get this show on the road already. She braces her hands on Eddie's shoulders as she starts to ride him properly, lifting up and dropping back down onto his dick with a soft groan. Eddie moans low and moves his hands down to her hips, holding but not controlling as he lets her figure out her pace.

"Such a fucking dream, baby, bouncing in my lap like a needy little slut."

"God, do you evenknow how to be quiet?" Stevie asks as her nails sink into Eddie's shoulders. The man just laughs and digs his thumbs into the dip of her hips, causing her pace to falter slightly.

"What, princess? You don't like it when I tell you how pretty you look on my dick?"

She does. Stevie loves the praise, will take it in any form Eddie gives it to her. Will take the slut as long as she gets the pretty along with it.

Eddie doesn't need to know that though.

"Stop fucking talking and fuck me already,"

Eddie gives her another shit-eating grin. "Your wish is my command, highness."

He tightens his grip on Stevie's hips, holding her in place as he fucks up into her fast and hard, making Stevie squeal in a way that she'll absolutely deny later. The sound seems to encourage Eddie, spurring him on as he pulls her down to meet every snap of his hips.

It only takes a minute of that before the hair-trigger she's been on for hours snaps, and Stevie gasps and shakes as she comes, hands slipping and dropping her forward as Eddie fucks her through it. She's trembling as he finally slows to a stop, but she doesn't get a chance to catch her breath before he's biting into her tit again, hard.

Stevie snaps up with a "Fucking ow!" and slaps him across the face, the first time she's ever laid a hand on him like that. Eddie doesn't even seem mad about it. He just gives her a wicked grin and a "My turn," as he hooks his hands under her thighs and stands suddenly, bringing Stevie up with him.

She yelps as Eddie drops her back onto the table, knocking the stuff he hadn't bothered to clean onto the floor, and pulls until her ass is hanging off the edge. Stevie barely has a chance to brace herself before he’s fucking into her properly, hitting deeper than before.

"Oh, fuck! Eddie!"

Eddie grabs her waist to hold her in place, thumbs digging into the soft give of her stomach as he fucks her just the way she loves. It’s so goddamn good, every snap forcing a noise from Stevie’s mouth even as she tries to bite them back, and Eddie grins.

“Yeah, this is what you really wanted, isn't it princess? Just needed a good dick to make you happy, huh?”

Stevie keens in response and reaches out, trying to find something that she can grab on to, needing to ground herself. She sends more stuff scattering to the floor, but if Eddie doesn't care, she certainly doesn't. Her hand catches the edge of the table and it's all she can do at this point to hang on, to just take what Eddie is giving her.

It's so much so soon, but Eddie doesn't seem to give a fuck as he drills into her, chasing his own orgasm. His eyes are dark as he stares down at her, nearly black in the low light of the room. Stevie feels caught in his gaze, held in place like a butterfly laid out and pinned down for display.

No one ever looks at her the way Eddie does, like he wants to put her up on a shelf and keep her. Like he wants to dissect her, cut her open and feel the warmth of her insides. Stevie thinks she would let him, at this point. Would do anything to keep his attention for longer than five fucking minutes.

"Fuuuck, I'm gonna come," Eddie groans as his hips snap into her. "Gonna fill your pretty cunt, baby, mark you from the inside out. Leave you fucking dripping with it." Stevie nods dumbly and begs a "Yes, please, fuck!" far past worrying about her image at this point.

Eddie brings a hand down to rub at her clit in small, quick movements that send electric shocks up the length of her spine. Stevie jerks against the touch and gasps a "Fuckfuckfuck!" as she comes again, her back arching off the table with the force of it. Her ears start ringing almost immediately, but underneath it she can hear the way Eddie growls as he slams into her a few more times before he comes, fucking them both through it.

Stevie twitches with overstimulation as Eddie's hips slow, then stop. He drops down, forearms braced on the table as they both catch their breath, as Stevie enjoys the aftershocks that zip through to her fingers and toes.

And then, Eddie does something unexpected.

He kisses her.

In their four months of hooking up, they've never once kissed. It's been a near thing a few times, with their faces pressed close and breath mingling, but neither has crossed that final line. For Stevie, she didn't think it would be welcome. For Eddie, Stevie just assumed that he didn't want to kiss her.

It's a welcome surprise, honestly.

Stevie kisses back, opening her mouth when his tongue presses to the seam of her lips. Eddie tastes like cigarettes and cinnamon gum, but it's not off-putting, and she sucks on his tongue as he pushes deeper. He's good at this, Stevie has to admit, persistent and messy in a way that makes her toes curl.

Eddie breaks it after a moment and moves down, pressing kisses to Stevie's chin and the underside of her jaw. "You don't know how mad it makes me, baby, seeing you go off with all those other guys when you know I'm better than all of them."

Stevie shivers and tips her head back, offering more of her neck to the man. "I want a boyfriend, Eddie. I want someone who actually cares about me, not someone who just cares about getting laid."

That makes Eddie pause before he sits up, taking his warmth with him as he looks down at Stevie. "Is that what's been happening, sweetheart? You've been playing hard to get because you think I don't wanna be your boyfriend?"

Stevie bites back a pout and turns her head to the side, avoiding eye contact. "You've never asked me out, so why would I think otherwise?"

There's a beat of silence before Eddie steps back, his soft dick slipping free, and Stevie winces as her pussy clenches around nothing. She's not empty for long, Eddie filling her again with two fingers as he pushes his cum back inside her.

"Do you remember the first time we fucked?" Eddie asks, his eyes trained on where his fingers are held in the warmth of her body. "It was in my van, after your swim practice. You didn't get the chance to shower so you still smelled like chlorine, but I didn't mind it because it was on your skin. After, I asked if you wanted to go to Benny's and you turned me down, said you just wanted to get home."

Stevie frowns and looks down at him, because— "You never asked that."

"I did, though," he says, gaze dark as he slowly begins to finger fuck her, a lazy pace that makes her shiver. "I thought I just lucked out, convinced you to sleep with me once and that was all I was gonna get. So color me surprised when you found me a few days later, practically begging for my dick again."

"I didn't beg— Oh!" Stevie gasps as he thrusts into her hard, just the one time before he resumes that careful pace.

"You can deny it all you want, angel, but I've never seen a girl beg as pretty as you do. So I figured if this is all I was gonna get from you, then so be it. I'd be your fuck buddy if that's what you wanted."

Eddie twists his fingers and Stevie squirms at the stimulation, can feel the steady build of pleasure once again as he speeds up. "Then you started going out with other boys, and I thought you were done with me, except you just kept coming back. And now you're telling me that this whole time you've been pissy because you wanted me to ask you out, when you're the one that turned me down first."

Stevie shakes her head as she arches into his touch. "I don't remember— I didn't—"

Eddie tuts and starts to fuck her properly, his fingers driving into her sweet-spot with every thrust. "Maybe it's my fault, though. Maybe you were too cum-drunk to realize I was asking you out. Is that what it was, princess? You just couldn't think straight after getting fucked so good?"

Stevie can't take any more. Her body is overstimulated, overwhelmed by the pleasure Eddie is practically forcing on her. It should be painful, but it only adds to the experience as Stevie shakes apart on her third orgasm, her entire body twitching as Eddie fucks her through it. He stops after a moment and pulls his fingers out, and Stevie is embarrassed to see that his hand is drenched down to his wrist.

Stevie feels like she's in a daze as she watches Eddie suck his fingers clean before wiping the rest of his hand on his jeans. She feels sated, loose in a way she can't ever find with anyone else.

"Ask me again," Stevie says, her voice soft, still breathless after all of that. Eddie looks at her and his face softens with a smile she's never seen before, something small and kind that makes her heart clench.

"Stevie Harrington, can I take you to Benny's?"

Stevie sits up and winces when she feels a mix if Eddie's cum and her own slick leaking from her pussy. "Only if you clean me up, first. I'm not gonna walk into Benny's place with your jizz running down my leg."

Eddie laughs, bright and loud. "Of course. Your wish is my command, princess."

[stevieschrodinger]

Due to AO3 being maintained, I'm posting the first little bit of, what could be, the silliest thing I've ever written. The working title is 'Beauty and the Steve'.

Eddie does his best to dodge the morning traffic.

That crazy lady’s chickens are loose again, and it’s creating a minor amount of havoc. The baker always goes out of his way to say good morning to Eddie, and, when him and uncle Wayne had first moved to the little village of Hawkins, Eddie was sure he was just being polite.

Now Eddie thinks he may be a bit of an old lech. It’s no secret Eddie is the only male Omega in the village, but at least he isn’t completely alone. There’s three female Omega too; identical triplets though, which is just fucking weird in Eddie’s book. He’s sure that’s got to be somebody’s kink, right?

“Eddie, where are you off to in such a hurry?” The baker calls out of the window, and Eddie can clearly see his irritated mate behind him. She looks like she’s gearing up to skewer the guy with a baguette.

“Oh, just the bookshop!” And Eddie waves, trying to indicate politely that he’s done with this, slipping away in a confusion of chickens.

Eddie turns the corner, only to find his way blocked by a hay wagon, “good morning!”

“Errr…��� Eddie, not for the first time, internally curses small villages, “morning, are you, uhm, moving?”

“Just getting ready to unload, won’t be long!” The man calls down cheerfully. Eddie eyes the bales, contemplates going back the way he has come, but he spies the bakers wife hitting the baker with a loaf, surrounded by chickens who appear to be excited by the prospect of violently created breadcrumbs.

Eddie climbs over the wagon.

Eddie makes it to the door of the bookshop, pulling hay out of his curls, cursing villages, narrow cobbled streets, the people who inhabit them, and the countryside in general.

“Ah! Eddie!” Owens calls out. He’s the old dude who owns the bookshop, the only shred of civilization that exists for at least, Eddie suspects, five days ride in any direction.

“Good morning! I've come to return the book I borrowed.”

Owens takes the book, “finished already?” he returns it easily to it’s place on the shelves.

“Oh, I couldn't put it down!” Eddie replies keenly, and he means it. He literally did not put it down because there's absolutely nothing else to do now that he's stuck living in the middle of nowhere. “Have you got anything new?”

Owens laughs good naturedly, “not since yesterday Eddie.”

“That’s alright,” Eddie assures him, because Eddie already knows exactly which book he wants to read again, and he knows exactly where it is, he takes a few steps up the ladder to retrieve it, “I’ll borrow...this one.”

“That one? But you've read it twice!”

“Well it's my favorite!” Eddie locks his boots either side of the ladder, sliding down the ladder, hopping off the last step, “far off places, daring sword fights, magic spells, and an Alpha prince in disguise!”

“Well, if you like it all that much, it's yours!” Owen’s tells him kindly.

“But sir!” Eddie starts to protest. He knows people are soft on him sometimes because of his designation. And the whole being an orphan thing, which, thanks to village gossip, spread like wildfire when he and uncle Wayne moved here, just the two of them. Eddie hates charity...but he really does love this book.

“I insist!”

“Well thank you...Thank you very much!” And Eddie is being sent out of the bookshop and into the sunshine. He’s pretty certain Owens doesn’t know how book shops are even supposed to work, considering he keeps letting Eddie borrow them – and now he’s even giving them away. Regardless, Eddie really shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Welcome to the Beast's Party!

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies.

One week left until the thank-you party for Emma.

Yves: "This is bad."

Leon: "Real bad."

Yves: "We've already picked out the desserts, booked the orchestra—even the entertainment is all set."

Leon: "The tailor has delivered Emma's dress, and we've already sent out invites to our close friends."

Yves: "Yet somehow, I've got this weird feeling."

Leon: "Because it's boring. It's just too normal. It's bland."

Yves: "Maybe so, but Emma would probably be happy with it."

Leon: "But is normal really good enough? Is our gratitude only worth that much?"

Yves: "Ugh..."

???: "How about a divine blessing for such troubled gentlemen?"

Yves: "Uwaaahhh!?"

Azel: "My apologies. I didn't think you'd be surprised enough to jump off the sofa."

Silvio: "Yo, you guys are stressing over some pretty trivial stuff."

Leon: "You're joining in, so does that mean you're going to help us out?"

Azel: "Of course. Guiding troubled souls is what a god does, after all."

Silvio: "Got a price list?"

Azel: "Right here."

Yves: "You're charging us for this?!"

Azel: "Of course. Since you're princes, I'd recommend the premium plan."

Leon: "Maybe relying on a god isn't a bad idea. Yves and I have been racking our brains and still haven't gotten anywhere."

Yves: "Leon, look closely! These are rip-off prices!"

Azel: "They're not. It's a fair rate. I have the means to solve your problems."

Azel: "You can make Emma even happier just by throwing money at me."

Silvio: "Where's that confidence coming from?"

Leon: "Then I'll go with this God's Direct Premium Divine Oracle Plan."

Azel: "Leon, you're a most excellent customer. I can tell—we're going to be great friends."

Silvio: "Total sucker move."

Azel: "Exactly. I mean, thank you for your patronage."

Azel: "Now, let's get serious."

Azel: "You wanted to add some flair to what felt like a plain, boring party, right?"

Yves: "But we also don't want to go full-crazy like Clavis."

Azel: "Of course. Emma doesn't strike me as the type to have a pitfall trap fetish. So, here's my proposal—"

Silvio: "..........."

Leon: "Not bad, huh?"

Yves: "We're pretty much done. Honestly, I think it turned out pretty great."

Azel: "Truly wonderful. I'm embarrassed to say I didn't know you gentlemen very well, but now I see Rhodolite has capable princes—not just easy marks to be taken advantage of. I'm impressed."

Silvio: "Are ya guys stupid?"

Leon: "What?"

Silvio: "It's just a party."

Leon: "An important party to express our gratitude to Emma."

Silvio: "This ain't even a party anymore."

Leon: "How so?"

Silvio: "Like that thing over there. What even is that?"

Leon: "That's the High-Speed Jet Trolley Coaster. It races along tracks laid on the ground at breakneck speed."

Leon: "Someone flew off during the test run, but a little chaos is just part of the fun, right?"

Yves: "Do you even know the meaning of limits!?"

Silvio: "Exactly. And what about that thing?"

Yves: "That's the Labyrinth of Beauty—you can't leave until you've acquired a fashion sense."

Yves: "Once you're in, you're not getting out until you put together a full outfit I approve of."

Silvio: "Yeah, no thanks. What about that one?"

Azel: "That's the Fortune Teller's Pavilion. I thought I'd open a little pop-up shop."

Silvio: "Don't just casually butt in! Also, you got the digits wrong on the price."

Silvio: "You guys seriously took this divine con artist's advice to heart?"

Yves: "I thought it was a great idea."

Leon: "Same here. I mean, when else would we get the chance to build a prince-themed amusement park just for Emma?"

Silvio: "Something's not right. This whole idea's way too cheerful for a shut-in like him."

Azel: "Ouch. That was a deeply hurtful remark—I'm entitled to emotional damages."

Silvio: "Cut the crap. I know you're hiding something. You can't fool me."

Azel: "........"

Azel: "Fufu."

Leon: "Wait, so you were up to something?"

Yves: "After scamming us that badly!?"

Azel: "Now, now, let's not get dramatic."

Azel: "You followed my advice and created a theme park. You've arranged a grand surprise for Emma."

Azel: "No one's lost anything. Everyone's a winner."

Azel: "Now then, let's give it a test run. After all, we can't risk anything happening to Emma."

Silvio: "………"

Azel: "Oh my, Prince Silvio, are you interested in riding the coaster?"

Silvio: "I never said that."

Azel: "Leon, it looks like we have a customer."

Leon: "Got it, this way, please."

Silvio: "I SAID I'M NOT INTERESTED! Hey, stop grabbing me from both sides!"

Silvio: "You two are way stronger than you look!"

Yves: "Prince Silvio is being dragged away."

Leon: "Don't worry. I'll ride with you."

Silvio: "Didn't you say someone got thrown off during the test run?!"

Leon: "He didn't die, so it's fine."

Silvio: "You know, you seem normal, but you're actually kind of crazy."

Azel: "Alright, you two, are you ready? Safety bars secured nice and tight?"

Silvio: "Wait, you're coming too."

Azel: "I'll pass. Yves said he'd get lonely waiting by himself."

Yves: "I never said that!"

Azel: "Come on, Yves. Let's smile and wave goodbye."

Azel: "Well then, off you go on a thrilling and heart-pounding journey~!"

Yves: "B-Bye?"

Silvio: "Stop waving like that—it's pissing me off! HEY, ARE WE EVEN SURE THIS THING'S SAFE?!"

Leon: "Haha! Now, this is the kind of speed I'm talking about!"

Silvio: "This is dangerously fast!! It's downright criminal!!"

Yves: "They disappeared in a flash. You really think they'll make it back in one piece?"

Azel: "If fortune smiles on them, they just might."

Yves: "Don't say ominous things like that!"

Azel: "By the way, Yves, what other attractions are there?"

Yves: "Yeah, um, over there is my cute little brother Licht's dojo."

Yves: "Then there's an adults-only tavern, courtesy of Jin. And that brightly colored, giant tent shaped like a clay idol is—wait, did that always exist?"

Yves: "Don't tell me—Clavis?"

Azel: "Let's not get too close."

Azel: "Still, I'm impressed you managed to build all this in such a short time."

Yves: "Well, all the brothers pitched in."

Azel: "You really are a close-knit bunch."

Azel: "By the way, who provided the most funding for this theme park?"

Yves: "Funding…?"

Silvio: "*pant, pant* Hey, you idiots—don't just stand around chatting!"

Azel: "Oh, back already? That was quick."

Leon: "It's a high-speed jet trolley, after all. This time, no one flew off."

Silvio: "That's because I held on for dear life! And don't you dare put that woman in this death trap!"

Leon: "It'll be fine if I act as the safety lock."

Silvio: "No, it won't, you absolute dumbass!"

Leon: "Relax, I was kidding."

Silvio: "You suck at joking, you know that?"

Azel: "Ah, Prince Silvio. Your beautiful hair is all tousled."

Azel: "Good thing I brought a comb—here, let me fix it for you."

Silvio: "Don't think sucking up is gonna save you. I will never forget that you put me on that death ride."

Yves: "Judging by how this went, we'd better double-check the safety of the other attractions as well."

Silvio: "Alright, I'm out. I'm not some bored idiot with time to kill."

Azel: "Now, now, don't be like that. Let's enjoy everything this place has to offer—for Emma's sake, too."

Azel: "Truthfully, I've lived a life completely disconnected from amusements like these, so I'm rather intrigued."

Azel: "For someone like me—who wasn't allowed to enjoy anything beyond books—this place is a dreamland."

Yves: "Now that you mention it, I wasn't really raised in an environment where I was free to play either."

Yves: "Feels kinda weird going all out for fun now that I'm an adult."

Leon: "If that's the case, I'm probably the same. I was too busy trying to study and survive back then."

Azel: "Prince Silvio—you had a pretty rough childhood too, didn't you?"

Silvio: "How the hell do ya know that?"

Azel: "It seems that all of us here might have finally found our way to 'play' thanks to Emma."

Leon: "Can't argue with that."

Yves: "Looks like we've got another reason to be grateful to her."

Azel: "And by doing so, we may also discover who the richest man in Rhodolite truly is…fufu..."

Silvio: "You…"

Silvio: "You really don't miss a thing, huh?"

[vulchak]

Alright I'm gonna watch the travesty that is the live action httyd. So I'm taking notes like for Lilo and Stitch, and I have the original script, and the original movie pulled up, just to be sure I'm not forgetting anything despite the original httyd being seared into my retinas since age 10

TL;DR written post-watch cause this became like 2,000 words, It's bad, it's horrendous. Pretty much everyone is slightly to horribly out of character, they're all mean and/or stupid. It's mostly the same movie, but every change is for the worse, and everything that's stayed the same is acted and directed MUCH worse.

Berk isn't their home anymore it's just some random island close to the nest, the Red Death isn't fireproof, they still fire into her mouth but there's no reason for it now unless you've seen the original, Astrid is emotionless through the whole thing, none of her anger, passion or any other emotion is here.

Toothless and the other dragons are much less intelligent. The CGI looks like a mobile game ad most of the time. Overall, not a single good thing here, don't bother watching it, let alone giving it money. Go watch the original, or read the books and ignore this fucking insult to animation and to How to train your dragon.

Right off the bat:

"This, is Berk" no the fuck it isn't, that's a moldy pride rock. It's so ugly and, small.

Oh, the sheep isn't even real. What too pussy to use a real sheep? It's a fake one attached to a bell like someone wouldn't notice a real sheep bleating or THE GIANT FUCKING DRAGON TAKING IT. I guess the point was they're keeping the sheep safe from the dragons, then why put out bait? If the dragons don't see sheep they won't attack? Probably? Man idk, it's stupid

The opening monologue too, is just. Soulless. More brief and not an ounce of sarcasm or dry humor. Y'know, a big part of Hiccup's way of speaking

Stoick so far is alright. He's not NEARLY as imposing as his animated counterpart, didn't even recognize him at first. Even with real human proportion limitations, still think they could've done more in the costuming department, at least added some height to him cause rn Hiccup is like, up to his shoulder which just feels wrong

CGI so far looks horrendous, a shot of the dragons setting fire to the village looks like a fucking mobile game ad

Hiccup going to Gobber and that whole little scene is much more clunky here. They've removed basically all the sass and jokes from the scene, from BOTH sides. "They need toothpicks don't they" and "little-er" are gone The latter probably because they knew they severely miscast Hiccup cause this guy doesn't look like the scrawny little loser Hiccup is at the beginning of movie 1

Astrid coming out from smoke instead of walking in front of an explosion is just lame and screams "we didn't have the budget"

And on Astrid, Hiccup going on about how cool she is instead of just the delivery of her name letting us know he has a thing for her, is keeping up the trend of these fuckass remakes really struggling with subtlety and visual storytelling

Alright so Hiccup is a straight up moron now

First of all they're putting WAY too much emphasis on the Astrid thing, it wasn't acknowledged at all until a couple teasing comments from the CHILDREN in the arena, NOT Gobber Second of all, the launcher thing he built. Why the fuck does he firemit twice on purpose, at his fellow vikings? In the original it was an accident, he patted it, the mechanism was too sensitive and fired and hit a viking ON ACCIDENT

All the acting is so incredibly, and I hate using the word but there's no better one I can think of, cringe. It feels like a youtube skit more than a movie

And the delivery is horrible, especially on Gobber. In the original you could tell him and Hiccup were at odds but they still liked each other, Gobber came across as a silly uncle figure, who was still protective, and only became serious when he saw Hiccup was a danger to either himself(running out into a fight he wasn't ready for) or others(accidentally knocking a guy out with his launcher) here, Gobber seems to barely stand Hiccup and Hiccup is no better towards him

Okay just don't tell us the Monstrous Nightmare sets itself on fire, alright, HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THEN?? (I know because I'm me, but for general audiences it's a weird omission, if I didn't know, I'd assume it was just, accidentally on fire, not something it deliberately did) they didn't bother introducing the rest of the teens either, Hiccup calls them the fire brigade and focuses solely on Astrid, we don't learn the others names till later

The whole dragon attack is so slow and anticlimactc, and this is the last time I'm mentioning Hiccup's delivery, because it's awful. End of story, slow, over-exagerated, not an ounce of the charm and sass Jay Baruchel brought to the role

No talking fishbone rant and Hiccup imitating Stoick. 0/10

So, Berk is no longer their home. BERK IS NOT THEIR HOME. It's just, close to where a "key dragons nest" is… They're setting up for the 3rd movie where they just ditch Berk so it's not a plot hole aren't they? It just, gives so much less weight to everything. They're not defending their generational home they're just, camping out to kill dragons

This was no doubt done to explain the POC vikings, as "the best warriors from all around the world" but. They didn't need to do that. It's a fucking fantasy dragon movie, especially for the background characters, cast whoever you damn well please, you don't need an in-universe explanation that ruins the lore and significance of the main location

The great hall is also tiny and cramped now

Gobber doesn't stay to talk to Stoick, Stoick has to stop him from leaving the hall. Gobber is just an ass here. Fuck this whole movie, bury the script with some C4 and light it up

Okay they mention Valka, by name, that's a good thing, but it's the least I'd expect now that they know exactly where the story is headed

WHY IS EVERYTHING SO BRIGHTLY LIT THIS IS ONE OF THE MOST TENSE SCENES IN THE WHOLE STORY AND IT LOOKS LIKE THE GODDAMN TELETUBBIES HILL UP IN HERE

Overzealous, excited teenager "I have slain this mighty beast!" VS generic protag guy "I DID IT!"

The shot of the reveal of Toothless' open eye gives me goosebumps, every single time. The atmosphere, the score, the slow camera movement and angle. None of that is here, it's just, oh, it's open btw here he is

Okay more of every character being meaner for no reason, why did Hiccup start to leave? In the og he immediately went to cut Toothless loose. Here he has to hear a whine then go back. Jackass

And Toothless doesn't pin Hiccup because the CGI characters interacting with the live humans is expensive and hard to pull off. Also GOD he's so SLOW and just. He feels like he shouldn't be able to lift off the ground, all his speed and agility are gone, and BCAUSE of said sluggishness we linger long enough on his tail to SEE IT MISSING HALF OF THE TAIL FIN BEFORE THE ACTUAL REVEAL. FUCK THIS MOVIES' COMPOSITION AND DIRECTION IS ASS

He doesn't even faint, he doesn't even stumble he just kinda. Looks at Toothless flying away, and sighs. He doesn't look like a guy who got attacked by the scariest dragon they've never even seen, he looks like a guy who saw his car getting towed

The conversation between Stoick and Hiccup is alright I guess, just a worse clunkier version of the original with worse delivery, not much more to say

Ooookay, dragon training, dunno what "trial of flame" is, dumb, will be ignoring it. They seem to be cause they call it dragon training half the time, anyway. Banter is OK, however, "daddy pulled some strings" is such a dumb line. Second, Tuffnut sounds so whiny and him and Ruffnut being held back, 4 years, makes them 19-20. That's. A pointless, mildly weird inclusion

They act childish as ever but they're that much older than the other teens. Again, utterly pointless

"Will you stop that?! You big bag of wool." And so, insulting Fishlegs, for his weight, was absolutely necessary apparently? Isn't this supposed to be the modern progressive remake that "fixes" and "improves" aspects of the original??

As far as I remember, Fishlegs was never made fun of for his weight, not in the first move at least. I don't wanna say with certainty without checking. But in this moment he definitely wasn't, and it further makes Gobber just, a jackass in this version

So. Gobber takes Hiccup's axe, emphasizing how important a shield is. Then Hiccup has to awkwardly tap his shield with his hand to make noise while everyone else still has their weapons?? Why??

Yet again I find myself, asking WHY. Why did we need the dragon manual scene to go on for so long just so Hiccup can simp for Astrid some more? So Astrid can further emphasize how Berk isn't their home and they don't care about it? So we can learn Hiccup and Stoick's house, their home, the home they lost Valka in, the home they cherished. Is like the viking white house and if one of them isn't chief they get kicked out?? The fuck is wrong with this movie??

Unsurprisingly the scene of Hiccup reading the manual is short, lame and without a fraction of the atmosphere and creepiness of the original. It's like he's reading a damn instruction manual and skipping to the part he needs to read

Seeing the ships get attacked is pretty neat, alright that one is a plus

They put the hesitation before the nose touch back, good. But forbidden friendship just, doesn't hit the way it does in the original, it's kinda. Boring, didn't make me feel a damn thing

Okay all the "us girls gotta stick together" is so fucking annoying YOU CAN SHOW THEM BEING FRIENDS WITHOUT POINTING IT OUT WITH OVERUSED MODERN TERMS. Show don't tell, dammit

Gothi standing there moving beads is also stupid and pointless, and her design isn't nowhere near as charming as the original(design being casting and costume)

Exchanging dragon nip for dandelions is also stupid

"Who's a good boy??" Ah so Toothless is in fact, a dog now. Good to fucking know. He seems so much less intelligent here as a whole

Test flight is just bad, bad camera work, bad cgi, bad everything. And no Toothless accidentally running Hiccup through fire in the end. Why remove it it was such a fun little gag

If I don't directly mention a scene, assume it's the same, but worse. That's how a majority of them are, same script with minor alterations and worse acting and animation I just don't have anything to say on those

Not faulting Nico Parker, she's doing the best with what she's got, but what she's got is a bad script and bad direction. Because Astrid seems so cold, and emotionless. Seeing the Red Death and saying "what is that" wtih a complteltly nerutral expression, she sounds like she's asking about an ugly shirt her friend is wearing

Also how do you manage to make the northern lights ugly? How is that possible? Beautiful blues teams and purples vs puke green

"Don't get inloved, my dad respects you too much" VS "make sure they don't find Toothless" So this Hiccup cares more about Astrid's reputation, not her, her REPUTATION, than he does about Toothless' life. Got it. SIMP. FAILTHY FUCKING SIMP What have they done to my boy.

Okay there was one neat shot of Hiccup's hand matching Toothless' paw when they're trying to climb up

"ASTRID GET BACK HERE. THAT'S AN ORDER." So, he's concerned about flaunting power and being right, not just, getting a kid out of danger. He's upset they're not listening to him, not that they could get hurt

Fight between Toothless and Hookfang is extended and I guess it's decently cool, but that, and the longer fight between Toothless and Stoick, just makes everything slower and more anticlimactic. The original was quick and snappy, this is just "we're filling time"

"You're not one of us. You're not my son." Cannot BEGIN to compare to "You're not a viking. You're not my son." Seriously the delivery, the line itself, hits nowhere as hard. I guess bringing up Valka is alright but feels a bit forced ngl

WHY DOES TOOTHLESS HAVE A FUCKING AMERICAN FOOTBALL CROTCH GUARD ON HIS FACE LMAO WHAT IS THAT

Alright final battle, mostly the same but worse, HOWEVER, The occupational hazard line was removed, this one and the setup for it earlier

And Stoick, doesn't say "I'm sorry" nor does he tell Hiccup he doesn't have to go. No no he says he was "just trying to protect him" and that whatever happens up there he's proud. He doesn't apologize, he doesn't take accountability for being wrong

They got rid of "not fireproof on the inside" with the terrible terrors, and therefore, no explanation as to how or why Hiccup decided to fire inside the Red Death's mouth. Especially considering SHE'S NOT FIREPROOF. THEY BLEW HOLES IN HER WINGS AND FLEW THROUGH THEM FOR A COOL VISUAL, COMPLETELY FUCKING RUINING THEIR WHOLE LORE

Stoick apologizing and waiting to see Hiccup alive is alright, but they really should've kept it a father son moment, Astrid doesn't need to be there. Also, just he's alive. No "you brought him back alive" he still thanks Toothless later but that line was a nice acknowledgement to what he did

Well, the rest of it, is just the same, but worse. They acknowledge that Stoick and the others rode back on dragons, I guess that makes sense, it's alright

Snotlout has a non-subplot with his dad which was done much better in the show, not much else to say on that

And that was it. The live action How to train your dragon remake. In a word. Soulless. The same but worse. What they do change is for the worse, not a single person aside from Gerard Butler was cast appropriately, nor designed as far as costuming goes, they bend over backwards justifying the changes they've made and the movie is much worse for it

Every single character is also, meaner for some reason. Only Fishlegs is about the same but more whiny somehow. It's just. Bad, no other way to say it, it's bad. Gobber is the worst offender, he's an asshole to Hiccup, to the other kids, everyone. Hiccup is also so unlikeable and a genetic protagonist with bad delivery. By the end I couldn't give less of a shit if he made it or not cause he was annoying more than anything

Toothless is significantly less intelligent, agile and cool than in the original. Same goes for all the dragons honestly. Trash heap with bad cgi, bad acting and a bad script. I'll be happy when it's forgotten. And I hope the sequel gets canceled, but general audiences will make this at least an 800mil movie so that probably won't happen

[architect-of-chaos]

I won't lie, I'm not here to shit on a wrestling Company but truthfully WWE, isn't reviving anything just because they brought truth back.

They still absolutely fumbled la Knight, and fucked him over again for another year. I stand by the fact they keep fucking him over, and also refuse to push him because of his age. And give him these small dumb titles when he could be a phenomenal main roster champion and would be a great mib briefcase holder character wise, practically built for such a ppv to win in my opinion. I also think they just like him because he's popular now but refuses to do anything with him unless they know he will get a pop, and that's it. La Knight has been reduced to just a way to get fans attention because he's so popular now and actually being liked though they're genuinely wasting it by never giving him the opportunities he needs. And when they do either they become lack luster because of shit booking, or they never let him win unless it's a title with 0 impact on the Company.

Only to fuck over Jey uso, they want a generational wrestler with stunted solo runs, people call Jey mid because they won't give Jey the chance to develop anything with these severely short ass solo title runs, and especially because they only have given him two so far and they are somewhat uneventful in a way. Or not really career defining for him, making it practically useless and just a waste of talent in general that could be used better.

The fact they keep fumbling talent, and I'll get to queen and king of the ring as well I have a hot take here. I don't think Roxanne Perez should have won, I don't really care about developing her for ppv, I think kairi should have won bc it's a nice mid card entry, and to develop talent that could have been used and loved and appreciated after treating her like garbage and think kairi should be given another push because she's actually good. I also think Roxanne should not have been in that match or should be in so many ppv matches because it'll just be them trying to hyper her up then waste her career after they've overused her for pay-per views. Because that's what WWE does.

Chad gable deserves better, and should be given opportunities as Chad gable and not a disrespectful racist gimmick. He's a good wrestler, phenomenal talent, and they've washed him down to nothing after he deserved to win the opportunities he had and I believe he should have beaten Gunther at some point I truly believe this and think he would have been an amazing champion. But as of right now wwe are treating him like shit and I don't understand why they are shoving this racist, shitty gimmick down our throats thinking it's entertaining especially when they are mostly doing shows In California at the moment and think it's kinda poor taste. But they have absolutely wasted the talent that is Chad gable and reduced the character to a pointless gimmick and then just some Kurt Angle copycat he never wanted to be and didn't deserve to become.

Lastly I will yap about trick Williams, the man who has been in WWE NXT for eons. The man who has seen ylike almost all of his rivals move up Bron breakker, ilja dragunov, Ethan page has done stuff, Carmelo, jevon Evans. Hell I will even count Joe Hendry as better off treatment wise than trick, I believe they used trick Williams to develop Joe Hendry to the WWE way, only to pretty much refuse to let the guy move up and then put him in tna, like "oh but he's the champion!!" Yeah well his dream was to be on the main roster of WWE not tna world champ or wtv, when he's easily deserved to be moved up already especially when most his main rivals have already made big appearances or literally have just moved up. While he is on NXT all because he gets a huge pop and people love him and they can't lose that money bc people watch it for him and come for him mostly. So they have to keep him there or related to NXT so he goes to tna, essentially wasting his character and before you say "he probably wouldn't work a main roster crowd" or "he needs more time" he's genuinely had enough and dare I say way more popular enough to move up and get attention to pop off his career.

Honestly I'm not gonna be watching WWE for a while because they're genuinely wasting talent so badly it's not funny.

[miainbetween]

YET AGAIN — no one asked but I’m still doing it because I wanna yap.

Answering the mundane things ask game for liverpool/better cr

💵- Who is the more financially responsible one in the relationship?

I don't know. I have the tendency to spend a lot of money on things I want, like books, dresses, and stuff, but for other basic things like memberships? I wouldn't give even a penny. And Max doesn't have those kind of obsessions like me (except for old school music gear) but he does feed a lot of my delusions. Like, he does buy me House of CB dresses because, oh my god, I love that label. So, I don't know which one of us is more like that but it’s probably him. If he's not spending money on me, he wouldn't be spending that much money.

🎈- Who invites the most people over to your household and what do they invite them over for?

I think that might be me but don't know. I'm honestly not sure which one of us does that more because we both initiate to have dinners at his apartment with our friend group but which does that more I cannot tell. We both really value and prefer our alone time together, especially when we move to the living room and our friends start teasing us about being like a married couple but I don't know. I guess I'd say that it's the both of us — it's 50-50.

🫧- Are either of you neat freaks? How does this show or not show?

That man leaves his socks everywhere. It's infuriating. I don't know if I'm a neat freak, probably not, but I am a perfectionist. And when I am cleaning I wouldn't do it if I don't know that I'll do it perfectly. And he is kind of just a tidy kind of guy. Not exactly a neat freak, but he doesn't leave things too messy (except for the socks which he picks up later). He has really good habits built. Thanks to his mom for teaching him that, like, oh my god, that woman!!!

🏠 - What does your house/living situation look like? How did y'all find it?

I personally have a small rental apartment, which I rented out a when I moved to Liverpool. And it's close, like, not that far away from the university. And also, surprisingly, it's a 10-minute walk from Max's apartment. I found it on the internet before the move, and talked to the person that was giving it out, and we're friendly now. But honestly? I spend less and less time there, because I've almost moved into Max's apartment. I spend so much of my time there. It's unhealthy, probably. Like, we're together way too often in our free time. But if we talk about his apartment, his apartment is his. It's not just a rental, he owns it, he bought it. He's starting to get successful in his career and I'm loving that for him… and for me. Hehe.

🎵- How do y'all prefer to do chores? Do either of you blast music the entire time, or do you do it in silence?

Okay, Max is a music person. Like, we do not function without music. Both of us. He usually puts on something jazzy and slow. I sometimes make him put on something from the 2000s, like Justin Timberlake, or something from the 90s. Think The Beatles, The Smiths. Just old school. That's very much his vibe, and I also love it. And he's usually the DJ because he doesn't trust me with Spotify because I'll probably play something like old Justin Bieber or something out of a rom-com and he's constantly teasing me for being a sap (even tho he isn’t much different he’s just old school and thinks highly of himself because of that) but I know he loves it because he says that trying not to smile <3

💕- What sort of events do you host at your house?

Just dinners for now, but we may also host birthdays. And yeah, maybe also lunches. I don't know. We're casual about the “events”. They're mostly friendly hangouts for now.

🥀- If your house has a garden, or if you have houseplants, do they grow well? Do either of you ever forget to water him? Who chose the plants?

Oh, oh, oh, we definitely have plants. Sometimes if either one of us forgets to water them and it's usually him because I’d have given him the task and he forgot, which is so unreasonable. Like, how could you kill my babies? Just kidding. But yeah, they grow well because when I water them, I don't water the soil. I water the roots instead. I cannot explain it but think about it like putting the plant into a bucket full of water and it just soaks it up like a sponge but that bucket is actually the ceramic pot that they’re in. And they grow SO well and so fast because I put a lot of water so that they can just hydrate themselves throughout the week. And honestly, even my cactuses are growing like crazy.

I also have a name for each one and I sometimes talk to them, like complimenting their growth or how pretty they are, and Max is making fun of me for that. He says that I talk to them like they're my kids, which is honestly true. I don't have human kids for now, so I'll settle for the plant ones.

💌- How much mail do y'all get, and who is it from?

I have an official gmail where I have the important stuff like university things and important memberships for different services maybe also for orders. And then I also have one for spam where I have memberships to magazines and where they post either every week or every day, also pinterest. Oh my god they send so much mail!!

I don’t know about him, but I know that he does get mails for projects and maybe new artists that want a producer or big brands. Mostly business. I don’t know, that’s his stuff. I don’t mingle there.

⌚- Who is the quickest to get ready to go out and who takes fucking forever to get ready? Are you both similar or not?

Max is the first to get ready. He just puts on a shirt, sprays some cologne, runs fingers through his hair — it's always messy, but in a hot way. Like, oh my god!!! I cannot understand how he does that and how he pulls it off, but he pulls it off so well every time!!! So, just a shirt, messy hair, perfume, and a leather jacket, and he's ready. When I, for a girl, get ready fast. I spend probably 10 to 15 minutes on my makeup. I don't spend that much time on my hair. I am ready in probably 45 minutes. Sometimes even less. Depends on how good I want to look. And he's still sometimes making comments! He's just teasing every time. But, honestly? I love it. Especially when I start scolding him and he just smiles this big gorgeous smile of his. 

💎- Which of you spends the most time at home? Why?

He spends more time at home because he has a job of a music producer and they don't have things to do every day. It depends on if they have a project or not. So, he's the one that stays home more. Because I, on the other hand, have university, hospital shifts, and a best friend that I need to tend to occasionally.

[jikooks-butterfly]

So this idea came to me last night now I’m not really sure if it’s really “Katsuki Bakugou” like but I just thought it was kinda cute where like maybe as a way to escape hero work or a way to wind down he does a little bit of sketching but no one really knows about it and let’s say one night you were staying over at his and it’s one of those nights where for whatever reason he just can’t sleep so he grabs his sketch pad and pencil to see if he can tire himself by sketching but ideas aren’t really coming to him so of course that frustrates him but he feels you stir in the bed and you had turned over on your side facing him and that’s when the idea sparks so he grabs his pad and pencil and starts to sketch you the one person he can really say he really loves and well let’s say the sketching didn’t really help him go to sleep. It just kept him up even later because he was not going to bed until he finished sketching you but no matter how late he stayed up he was still the first one up and the next morning when you woke up to find yourself alone in his bed, the smell of breakfast cooking throughout the house you get up to head to the bathroom to do your morning routine when something happens to catch your eye and it is Katsukis sketch book he had forgot to put away because he was just too tired to properly put it away so of course curiosity got the best of you and you pick it up and see the sketch of you that he did last night and you go through a couple more pages and it amazes you because it something you didn’t really know that Katsuki could do so you head downstairs Katsukis in the dining room setting up your guys plates he hears your footsteps and says “I was just about to go wake you, let you know breakfast is ready” but you just smile and and make your way over to him, put your arms around his waist, your head on his chest and look up at him and say “I didn’t know you were so good at sketching” and well let’s just say his face got all red, he got all flustered and just simply tried to pretend he didn’t have a single idea about what you were talking about even if his blush gave him away big time

*Damn this was only supposed to be a short little thing but the idea just came to me more n more as I wrote 😅*

[marciaillust]

the patrician is just a guy to me

[the-ghost-king]

I'm terrible pjo gay rep because I fucking love the Cupid scene and won't shut up about it. I think it's an excellently done outing scene and it saved my life. Sorry you didn't like it because it scared you and I'm sorry that we live in a world where queer kids have to feel that way but as someone who has repeatedly been put in the position nico was in that scene I need you to know that the way Cupid was obviously painted in a villainous light and the way Jason reacted 100% gave me the strength to carry on at multiple points in my own life when I was in really terrible situations as a kid facing people like Cupid. It was a triggering scene for many I'm sure and I don't mean to minimize that, but that scene literally changed my world view in so many ways and helped constantly remind me that there were people like Jason who would be there for me if I could live long enough to find them. It's fine to criticize it or question it, but sometimes you also need to take a step back and ask "is this scene for me or is it for someone else" it may not have been what you needed but it was 100% what I needed and I'm so greatful that I read that scene when I was young and all that the memory of that scene carried for me and gave me.

[lala-blahblah]

I will never make this because it would be for an audience of one (me) but ever since reading "If we Were Villains" (story about serious drama kids in college who perform shakespeare and deal with a murder) I have been entertaining the thought of a crack fic crossover with High School Musical The Musical The Series where the staff decides they will no longer put on shakespeare after the tragic accident that happened at Thanksgiving, because Shakespeare plays would only increase the tension and drama. So they hire Ms. Jen who decides their spring play will actually be High School Musical (which exists in the 90s in this universe) and it ruins the vibe so much that everyone gives up on being dark and mysterious because they're universally pissed at Ms Jen for making them learn choreoraphed basketball dancing.

[wabblebees]

thought id update to say; i survived opening night!!! and not only that, it went REALLY fucking well, and people seemed to REALLY REALLY like it omfg... god this is so crazy

[xplicitviewz]

“Who’s calling?” Your husband, Nanami, huffs from above you, his hips snapping into you. Your teary eyes glance at your phone while you let out small whimpers. “I-it’s our son.” You breathe out, your thighs tremble beneath his hands holding them down beside you.

Nanami groans and stuffs his dick fully into you, a whine escaping your lips as he picks up the phone. Between his work schedule and your 4 kids, there isn’t time for you and your husband to partake in a your shared activities other than the few times you guys got creative.

There was this one time you guys had your oldest watch the kids while you guys went to the pharmacy to pick up some medicine, which ended in a quickie in the dark parking lot before heading home.

Or the other time you guys had a pool day and you went inside to start getting the snacks ready. Nanami followed shortly after to have himself his own quick snack. Both of your days are pretty busy, but Nanami never fails to make some time for you and your pussy. You can admit sex hasn’t really been a priority, until tonight. Upon realizing all the kids would be gone, you immediately called Nanami to be sure he brings his ass home when he is off and not do any overtime- yes you used your mom voice too. Nanami agreed not wanting to be scolded.

When he did get home, he noticed a few things, there was any tv on, or music blasting from your two oldest rooms. There weren’t toys scattered in the living room or the dining room table from your two youngest, no yelling or screaming from all of them in general, it was just quiet. He smelt food in the air, he usually does every night he comes home but it’d be already eaten, or everyone will be eating at the dinner table (he insists not to wait for him because he often stays late) but since he left early from work, it isn’t ready just yet. He quickly rushes up the stairs, starting to feel the panic seep in just a bit, all the kids rooms are empty.

He opens his shared bedroom to see you just laying on your stomach, in the silky robe he got you, reading a book. He calms down because if you were okay, surely, the kids were too. His eyes gaze down your figure, your feet are in the air crossed, while you read. The robe sits at your upper thigh, and since it’s so thin, your ass pops out in the most desirable way possible. “Honey?” He eyes you suspiciously, taking a breath as he starts to settle down, “Where are the kids.”

You heard the front door shut, squeezing your thighs together, feeling the arousal hit you even more. The book you have been reading had been in your mind, and hearing your husband come home really made you ready to take him, full. You had dinner cooking in the oven, almost ready to serve for just Nanami and you. Your oldest son is at a movie with his friends and they are going to go eat after. Your second oldest daughter is spending the night with her best friend, and your two youngest are sleeping over with their grandparents. To say you were practically rushing your oldest son to leave already, since he was the last one to go, was an understatement.

“They are busy and safe.” You closed the book and turn your body towards him, your eyes hungry before you looked at him, but damn near starving when you did. That damn suit and tie. You explained where they all were as you sat up in the bed, impulsively pushing your chest out as you leaned back on your arms. Nanami didn’t ignore the lustful look in your eye, the way your nipples perked against the thin fabric, only assuming you had nothing on underneath. He quickly put a few things together, why you called him to not do overtime. He knew what his wife wanted, at least he thought so.

When your sweet loving husband started off kissing your neck, waiting to use the few hours to just worship your body, you, your hands cupped his chin and looked him dead in the eye, “Honey, I love you so much and I know that you do but tonight-right now I need you to fuck me like you don’t. I want y-“ His eyes darkens more at your plea, how desperate you were truly. How can he ever say no to his gorgeous wife. He cuts you off with a kiss before he started fucking you every way loose. Yes exactly what I said. But of course no matter what time it is, you guys are parents after all….

“What?” Nanami answers the call, still buried deep inside you, grinding against you as his thumb circles your clit.

“..Oh Hey dad, where’s mo-“

“She’s busy, are you okay, why are you blowing up her phone?” Nanami cuts your son off, his eyes focused on you squirming around, biting your lip to keep any lewd sounds hushed while he was on the phone with your son. He speeds up his movements on your clit, softly sucking in a breath when you clench tightly around his dick.

“I wanna buy some snacks and get some food after the movie, mom said she’ll send me m-“

“How much?” Nanami asked wanting him to get to the point so he can get back to his wife. He slowly pulling out before pushing himself back in. Your hand quickly covers your mouth as you shut your eyes. Your legs were shaking crazy. Your husband wasn’t one to always be rough in bed, but the times he is, you would feel it for days, in the best way possible. (He has that dog in him😞) Nanami definitely isn’t holding back, not when it’s been this long you guys were kid free for a few hours and together at that. Nanami was making up for lost time, fingering you until you couldn’t talk properly, eating your pussy like it personally offended him, fucking you left, right, up, down, diagonal, all up until your phone kept blowing up.

“Like about $40.”

“Okay, give me a moment.” Nanami grunts, as he bottoms out again, the way you squeezed his dick nearly knocked him out cold. He feels his dick throb inside you and pulls the phone away from his ear, breathing heavy.

“Thanks d-“

Nanami hangs up the phone and tosses it beside you before leaning in closer to you, peeling your hand away from your mouth and pulling it above your head. “Tell me something honey.” He hums kissing your swollen lips.

You whimper as he fucks you again, slow but rough this time, ”y-yes?” You gasp as he hits your cervix.

“When the kids ask for money, do you send it to them from my account?” He looks into your eyes, sweat dripping down his head watching your reaction to his question really his dick.

You’re screwed. Both literally and physically.

“Not alwa- o-ooh shit.” You moan, his hips moving faster than light. Nanami absolutely hates when you use your own money, hell, even when you were working. When you guys first started dating he already knew you were going to be his wife. Nanami would always say you didn’t need to work but you didn’t want him to be the sole provider. Eventually, you guys moved in together and you were still working. Though, he convinced you to work less hours and took you out on a date when you agreed. It wasn’t until you got pregnant with your first baby, did his wish come true. Shit, he was more excited when you both went down to your job to quit than he was to see the 2 pink lines.

“All the hours I work, being kept away from our family, my perfect wife -ngghh- my perfect wife’s pussy. And you still insist on usi-fuck- using your own money when you have access to my money- no our money, shit your money.” He moans grabbing your other hand and pulling it above your head with your other.

“Y-you pay for e-ever-“

“I’m supposed to baby. I want to.” He interrupts you, lifting your legs to his shoulders, and grabbing your phone with his free hand and sending your son $100 from his account. “Why must you make things complicated, love. I am the man, it’s my job to take care of you, our family. Let *thrust* me. Use my money for the kids, the house, the cars, whatever it is, I have enough, more than.” He kisses your lips softly, opposite to his thrusts. “Use your money I give you for you, whatever you want for you- shit for you. Everything I do is for you, everything I make, it’s yours, ours on paper, but it’s all yours. All for you.” He grunts into your ear, as if he’s teaching a lesson. Technically, he is.

“Don’t let me find out you aren’t using my money first again, okay hun?” He hums at you, a moaning teary mess.

“Now where were we?” He smiles before pulling out and flipping you on your stomach, lifting your ass up and spanking it. “Oh, right.” He chuckles as he spreads your cheeks apart, seeing your drooling sensitive pussy, clenching on air.

*edited but not proofread*

More:

Pussywhipped!Choso | part 2

Married!Eren x Maid!Reader

Ex-husband!Eren

Sylus mini

Nerd!Armin x reader x boyfriend!eren

Best friend!jean x reader

[oveliagirlhaditright]

So, I don't know if I'm ever going to watch the 5th Wave movie based on reviews I've seen for it now (even though I also feel bad saying this--and think maybe I should--because I'm also someone who thinks you should judge things for yourself), but I have watched a few amvs for it... and just based on that (though I admit that that might not be a fair metric to base it on), I do agree with people who think that Evan Walker was miscast (it also might have been direction issues). He just seems too earnest to me? Too trustworthy? And that's sort of a problem, of course, because you needed to have so many moments in the film where you didn't know if you could trust the guy or not. And based on the scenes I've seen, he doesn't seem mysterious/sketchy enough. He also doesn't give off the vibes where Cassie was like, "I'm going to kill Evan Walker!" because he was pissing her off so much. IDK. -shrugs-

[webism]

pornstar!shiu who started out as your agent. he’d book your gigs, stand and watch with cigarette in hand as you were fucked on film for a fat check that he’d take a cut of.

pornstar!shiu who would take you out for celebratory drinks after landing larger acts—be it a shoot for a dirty magazine or a collaboration with the current biggest name in adult film. shiu is good at getting you in—and he doesn’t much mind watching your artwork either.

pornstar!shiu who helps you set up a secondary source of income: an onlyfans. he helps you garner an audience, set your prices and start looking for guest stars. he lines a few up, lets you pick from them and even pours them a drink when they come over to film. shiu lets you have privacy with these shoots, but insists on staying in the house just in case anything goes sideways: they never do, though. most of the guys you film with are put off by the look shiu gives them when they first walk in. mean.

pornstar!shiu who slowly starts to get sick of accommodating the men you film with. it's just work, sure, but he doesn't get jealous like this of the girls that his other client Toji works with. he doesn't watch their videos back on repeat to make sure their hands don't wander where they aren't welcome. he doesn't fuck his fist at night thinking about him. it's just a you thing.

pornstar!shiu who gets an email one day from a well known pornstars agent practically begging to hitch up a collab between you and him. satoru gojo is a name shiu has heard plenty times before, be it through the business side of being your agent or through his computer speaker when he's edging himself to mindless porn in the dead of night. he knows he fucks good, seen it first hand.

pornstar!shiu who knows you're excited for this shoot, to finally get to try out the guy known for giving real orgasms in hopes of a more raw shoot. shiu almost feels bad when he tells you, twenty minutes before your shoot, that gojo can't make it. that he's sick with something nasty and you'll have to reschedule if his calendar opens up for you.

pornstar!shiu who listens to you whine about how you promised your online audience something good tonight. nods as you beg for him to find someone else on such short notice. he pretends to scroll through his phone and send a few texts as you stress your pretty mind over leaving your followers hanging. shiu can't help but smile at your desperate pout when he tells you that no one can make it on such short notice... but that he does have another idea, albeit an unconventional one.

pornstar!shiu who, within twenty minutes, has your face pressed into your pillows and his hand forcing your arch so he can fuck you just that little bit deeper. the moans you let out, even though they're muffled by your satin pillow, are nothing short of pornographic. it's fitting, and pulls a smile onto shiu's face because he's hearing better moans from you than he thinks gojo could ever pull. and god you feel better than he'd ever imagined: he wonders how he'll ever lay down for another person again know that he's felt you wrapped around his cock.

pornstar!shiu who insists it's just a favour: just work. he's given you five orgasms and a dirty movie to show for it too. you two fuck for an hour and he showers at your place before helping you edit and post it over dinner. it's casual, nothing awkward, but when the comments start rolling in about this new man that makes you cum like none other has, you swear he blushes.

pornstar!shiu who quickly becomes a regular on your page. goes from being your agent to somewhat of a partner in film. over the course of a few weeks, you have more money than you know what to do with: people keep subscribing to watch you cum on his cock in the mindless way it seems only he can pull from you. your library grows daily, with videos of him fucking you on the kitchen counter, whipped cream eaten straight from your chest, to videos from his perspective as he takes drags of a cigarette while you get your fix from your lips wrapped around his thick cock. he's somewhat of a pornstar himself now.

pornstar!shiu who, for someone who insisted this was just work, gets into the habit of kissing you through your orgasms. or conveniently forgetting to press record so that your marathon sex session on his couch stays for his eyes only. or starts leaving things at your house on the off chance to have someone else over to film with, so they'll see his hair gel or large shoes by the front door and realise you're spoken for, even if he doesn't have the right to speak for you.

pornstar!shiu who's asleep in your bed one night, his cock still nestled deep inside of you after making love to you for the first time. you're littered with lovebites and your mind is hazy with feelings you never thought you'd have for your agent of all people. the night is dark, and as you're cockwarming the man who is much more than just a co-star to you, your phone dings. he stirs, and you check it to find a message from Satoru Gojo, who is asking after you. he says he's upset you didn't get to film together the other week but he hopes you're feeling better. your sickness seemed pretty nasty, from what your agent said when he cancelled on your behalf.

what a shame!

[lotuswish]

𑁍ࠬܓ how they react when they see you hurt (housewardens & jamil)

synopsis: pain is not something he ever wanted to associate with you. but seeing you injured—knowing someone dared to harm you—shatters his composure. for some, it’s rage; for others, panic. and for a few, it’s cold, terrifying control—until he knows you’re safe. but one thing is certain: someone will pay for this.

featured character(s): riddle rosehearts, leona kingscholar, azul ashengrotto, kalim al-asim, jamil viper, vil schoenheit, idia shroud, malleus draconia.

content warning(s): angst, mentions of violence and implied revenge, mild injury descriptions (ex. bruises, wounds, pain etc.), spoilers for book 6 in idia’s part.

a/n: they’re just being silly, guys. <3

link(s): (masterlist)

riddle rosehearts

riddle prides himself on maintaining control.

his entire life has been shaped by discipline, by structure, by the belief that emotions must be ruled by logic. he does not allow himself to be reckless, does not allow himself to be overcome. everything he does is precise, calculated, deliberate.

but the moment he sees you hurt—

everything unravels.

his breath catches in his throat, his heart slamming against his ribs, his mind instantly abandoning all reason. his entire world sharpens to a singular point—you—and all at once, every ounce of restraint he’s spent years perfecting is hanging by a fragile, fraying thread.

“who did this?”

his voice is sharper than you’ve ever heard it, trembling with something raw, something dangerously close to rage.

he’s beside you in an instant, dropping to his knees without hesitation, his hands hovering—not touching, not yet, because what if he makes it worse? what if he hurts you somehow? his fingers tremble, itching to reach out, to make sure—

“tell me where it hurts,” he says, but his voice wavers. “tell me what happened.”

his hands are gentle but firm as he checks you over, his usually practiced movements clumsy with the weight of panic. he doesn’t even realize his breathing is uneven, doesn’t even notice the way his shoulders are shaking as he looks you over, as he takes in every bruise, every wound, every sign that something happened—

something he didn’t prevent.

“you should have been more careful,” he scolds, but the words come out thin, forced, like he’s trying to hold something else back.

you try to tell him you’re fine, try to brush it off, but he doesn’t believe you. his eyes flicker with frustration, his jaw tightening, his grip on your wrist just a fraction too tense.

“don’t be ridiculous—you’re hurt,” he snaps, and then immediately exhales, forcing himself to breathe. “just… stay still. let me handle this.”

he refuses to let you wave it away. refuses to leave it alone. you are not fine, and he will not let you convince him otherwise.

but even as he focuses on making sure you’re okay, something else burns at the edges of his mind, pressing against his temples like an unbearable weight—

who did this to you?

his hands clench into fists. his breathing evens out, but his posture remains rigid, coiled tight like a string about to snap.

because once you’re safe—once he’s certain that you’re okay, that you’ll recover, that he didn’t fail you—

then, and only then, will he deal with the one responsible.

his mother may have taught him restraint, but some things are unforgivable.

and hurting you is one of them.

leona kingscholar

danger.

his body registers it before his mind does, his instincts kicking in the moment his eyes land on you—hurt, vulnerable, not okay.

his vision tunnels, his pulse spikes, and suddenly, the world around him doesn’t matter anymore.

“what the hell happened?”

his voice is a low, guttural growl, thick with something dark, something uncontrollable. his hands clench at his sides, every muscle coiled, his body ready—ready to fight, ready to destroy, ready to eliminate whatever put you in this state.

but then he sees it—sees the way you’re holding yourself, the way your breath hitches, the way you flinch just slightly—and suddenly, the anger has to be forced down, swallowed like bile in the back of his throat.

because right now, you come first.

so he moves, closing the distance in a single step, his hands reaching for you before he can stop himself. his hands are gentle from the start, unusually so. these hands of his are capable of devastation, of turning flesh to dust, of summoning ruin with a mere touch. but against you, they are careful, restrained. the second he feels the warmth of your skin beneath his fingertips, the tension in his hold eases, his hands softening, steadying you instead of breaking you.

“who did this?”

his voice is still dangerous, still thick with that barely restrained fury, but now there’s something else underneath it.

concern.

fear.

he hates how it makes his chest tighten. hates the way it lingers at the edges of his thoughts, nagging at him, clawing at something buried deep beneath his usual indifference.

he kneels in front of you, his sharp, emerald eyes scanning every inch of you with terrifying intensity. his fingers ghost over your injuries, his jaw clenched so tight you can hear his teeth grind together.

“tell me.” his voice is dangerous now.

and then—when you hesitate, when you try to brush it off, when you lie—

his patience snaps.

“don’t give me that.” his grip tightens just slightly, his expression darkening. “you’re hurt. don’t act like it’s nothing.”

there’s no room for argument in his tone. no patience for your stubbornness, no willingness to accept anything less than the truth.

if you try to keep it from him, if you refuse to say who’s responsible, then fine—he’ll find out himself.

because someone did this.

and once you’re safe—once he’s sure you’re okay, once he’s made damn sure you’ll recover—

then he’s hunting.

“stay here,” he mutters, standing to his full height, his tail flicking behind him in barely restrained aggression. “i’ll take care of it.”

and if you try to stop him?

his gaze flickers down to you, something sharp, something scorching, like the unrelenting heat of the desert sun at its peak—blistering, unforgiving, merciless.

“no one lays a damn hand on you and gets away with it.”

and then he’s gone, a storm of unbridled wrath, a lion on the hunt.

azul ashengrotto

azul is a man of careful calculations.

every word, every action, every decision he makes is deliberate. he has spent years crafting a persona of charm, wit, and effortless composure—one that allows him to stay in control, no matter the circumstances. he does not flinch, does not waver, does not lose to uncertainty.

but then he sees you hurt.

and suddenly, all of that control is gone.

his breath catches, his body locks up, and for one horrifying moment, his mind is utterly blank.

“you—what happened?”

his voice doesn’t sound like his own. it’s too sharp, too raw, lacking the usual smoothness he prides himself on.

he rushes to you without thinking, but the second he’s close enough to touch, he hesitates. his fingers hover inches above your skin, his knuckles white with the force of his restraint. his mind is screaming at him to act, to do something, but a terrible thought wedges itself into his panic—

what if i make it worse?

he doesn’t trust his own hands, doesn’t trust his own judgment, not when the sight of you like this is unraveling him from the inside out.

“tell me what hurts,” he demands, his words tumbling out in a way that’s almost frantic. “is it serious? how bad is it?”

his thoughts spiral immediately, jumping to the worst possible conclusions. is it critical? should he be calling for medical attention? what if you’re downplaying it? what if he’s not fast enough?

and then you try to brush it off.

“nothing?” he echoes, breath hitching. his voice almost cracks—and he hates that. “how can you say that when you’re—when you—”

his hands clench into fists, shaking slightly as he forces himself to breathe.

“just—just stay still,” he mutters, voice tight with strain. “i’ll take care of it.”

because if there is one thing he knows, one thing he can control, it’s fixing things. making deals. offering solutions.

“i’ll call a healer. i’ll get whatever you need—whatever you want.”

his words come too fast, his mind still racing, but through it all, his hands never leave yours.

his grip is too tight, fingers wrapped around yours like a lifeline, like letting go isn’t an option he’s willing to consider.

because if he lets go—if he loses you—

he’s not sure he’ll be able to handle it.

and when it’s over—when he knows you’ll be okay—he still doesn’t let you out of his sight.

“you scared me,” he murmurs, quieter than before.

his voice is steadier now, but you can still hear the remnants of his fear, lingering in the way his thumb brushes absentmindedly over your knuckles, in the way he exhales like he’s been holding his breath this entire time.

and for the first time since you’ve met him—since he built the persona of azul ashengrotto, the untouchable businessman, the man always one step ahead—

he lets you see just how fragile he becomes when it comes to you.

kalim al-asim

kalim is always smiling.

he is a beacon of joy, a burst of light in every room he enters. when things go wrong, he looks for the silver lining. when people are hurting, he lifts them up with his boundless energy. sadness is something he refuses to dwell on, something he fights against with warmth and laughter.

but when he sees you hurt?

his entire world stops.

“oh no, oh no—”

the words leave him before he can think, his breath catching as his heart lurches in his chest. he doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t pause to process what he’s seeing—his body moves, fast and instinctive, rushing to your side.

his hands cradle your face, warm and steady despite the frantic tremor in his touch.

“are you okay? what happened? does it hurt? how bad is it?”

his voice is shaking. he’s shaking.

and when he finally really looks at you, when he takes in the way you wince, the way you hold yourself like you’re trying to hide the pain—his chest tightens, his stomach twisting into something awful.

“why didn’t anyone stop it? why didn’t i stop it?”

guilt. overwhelming, suffocating guilt floods him like a tidal wave.

“i should’ve been there! i should’ve protected you!”

his grip on you tightens—not enough to hurt, just enough to let you know he’s here. he isn’t letting go. he won’t let go.

and then, before you can stop him—before you can tell him it’s not a big deal—his eyes start to glisten.

“kalim, are you—”

“i’m not crying!” he absolutely is. “i just—you scared me!”

his voice wobbles, and suddenly, he’s pulling you into a hug, arms wrapping around you too tightly, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

“don’t move, okay? just stay right here! i’ll get someone to help—i’ll fix this, i promise!”

if it’s something small—just a minor scrape, a bruise—he still treats it like it’s life-threatening. he refuses to let you walk it off, refuses to let you act like it’s fine.

if it’s something worse? if you are seriously hurt?

he panics, but his movements are certain. without hesitation, he lifts you into his arms, holding you to his chest like you’re something precious, like you belong nowhere else but safe in his hands.

“i’ve got you,” he whispers, voice breaking. “i won’t let anything happen to you.”

and when he finally gets you to safety, when he finally knows you’re okay—

he still won’t stop fussing.

“you need to rest! do you want pillows? i’ll get you pillows! or tea! do you want tea? i’m sure jamil will—jamil! we need tea!”

“kalim, i’m fine—”

“no, you’re not fine! i was so scared!”

his fingers squeeze yours.

and later, when you’re patched up, when the worst of the moment has passed—

he presses his forehead to yours, closing his eyes.

“don’t ever scare me like that again, okay?”

his voice is softer now, the usual excitement dimmed into something deeply sincere.

“i don’t ever wanna see you hurt again.”

jamil viper

jamil was raised to handle crises.

he has spent his entire life being the one who steps in when things go wrong, the one who fixes things while everyone else panics. no matter the situation, no matter the chaos, no matter the pressure—he is always in control.

so when he sees you hurt, when he registers the way you’re holding yourself, the way your face twists with pain—

his stomach drops.

but his body moves on instinct.

“where?”

his voice is steady. too steady. his mind is screaming, but his tone doesn’t waver, his movements are calculated, precise. he crouches in front of you immediately, eyes scanning you with sharp, assessing precision.

“how bad is it? let me see.”

he doesn’t waste time. doesn’t ask what happened—not yet. because right now, the only thing that matters is making sure you’re okay.

his hands are warm but firm, brushing over you carefully as he checks for injuries. his fingers ghost over your wrist, your arm, the side of your face—everywhere that might be hurt—his touch gentle but filled with purpose.

“it’s not broken,” he murmurs under his breath, half to himself, half to reassure you. “no major swelling… does this hurt?”

and then—when you flinch, when you let out the softest hiss of pain—

something inside him snaps.

his jaw clenches. his breathing slows.

“who.”

his eyes flick up to meet yours, and for the first time, there is something dangerous in his gaze.

“who did this?”

if there is a culprit—if someone is responsible for this—then they are not leaving unscathed.

but even as fury thrums through his veins, even as his mind races with ways to handle the situation, he forces himself to prioritize you first.

“can you walk?” his voice is softer now, his tone slipping back into something controlled, something measured.

if you say yes, he doesn’t let you prove it. he supports you immediately, one arm around your waist, guiding you effortlessly as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

if you say no, he lifts you without hesitation. no warning, no asking—just picking you up, his hold secure, unshakable.

“don’t argue,” he mutters, barely sparing you a glance. “just let me take care of it.”

because he will.

and once he gets you somewhere safe, once he’s made sure you’re being treated properly, once he knows with certainty that you are okay—

then, and only then, does he allow himself to breathe.

“you’re reckless,” he mutters, his voice a mix of exasperation and something far too raw. “i don’t have time to deal with this every time you get yourself hurt, you know.”

but his fingers tighten just slightly where they rest against your arm, betraying the truth behind his words.

because if something had happened—if things had been worse—

he doesn’t even want to think about what he would have done.

vil schoenheit

perfection is vil’s standard.

not just in beauty, not just in his work, but in everything—his composure, his discipline, the way he carries himself. he does not allow himself to be reckless. he does not make careless mistakes. he does not let emotions rule him.

but then he sees you hurt.

and something inside him fractures.

his lips press together, his expression unreadable, his body rigid—the only betrayal of the storm brewing beneath his flawless exterior is the way his fingers tighten just slightly at his sides, the way his breath is a fraction too controlled.

“where are you hurt?”

his voice is steady. cold. clinical. but his eyes—his eyes—

they burn.

he crosses the distance between you in two strides, his gloved fingers already reaching for you. his touch is firm but delicate, brushing over your skin with the kind of precision only someone like him could possess.

“sit down.” it’s not a request. “don’t move until i’ve assessed the damage.”

you try to downplay it, try to insist that it’s nothing, but his sharp gaze cuts through you instantly.

“do not insult me by pretending this is fine,” he snaps, his voice sharp as glass. “you are hurt. i can see it. so let me handle it.”

his fingers ghost over your injuries, his touch meticulous, searching. he catalogues everything—the severity, the placement, the way you react when he presses too close.

he is silent as he works, but the tension in his shoulders speaks volumes.

“this never should have happened.” the words slip out low, almost a whisper, but the weight behind them is undeniable. “i should have—”

but he cuts himself off before he finishes the thought.

vil schoenheit does not dwell in should haves.

he fixes things. he prevents disasters before they happen.

but right now, all he can do is make sure you are okay.

“i’ll handle this,” he says smoothly, already preparing to tend to your wounds himself. “stay still.”

his movements are precise, every action perfectly executed—cleaning, bandaging, ensuring no imperfections remain. but his touch lingers just slightly longer than necessary, his fingers brushing over your wrist, your palm, the curve of your shoulder with a tenderness that is almost imperceptible.

and when it’s over—when you are properly cared for, when the worst of the moment has passed—he finally exhales.

“you worried me,” he murmurs, and it is softer now, less controlled, less rehearsed.

and then—just for a second—his fingers ghost against your jaw, tilting your face up toward him.

“i won’t let this happen again. not ever.”

his voice is gentle. his eyes are not.

because if anyone had a hand in this—if someone is responsible for this pain—

then they will regret ever daring to touch you.

idia shroud

idia doesn’t do well under pressure.

he was not built for high-stakes situations, for stress, for emotions so raw they leave no room for second chances. he hates unpredictability, hates chaos, hates not knowing what to do.

so when he sees you hurt—

his mind shuts down.

for a full second, he just stares, his breath caught somewhere in his throat, his fingers twitching but unable to move.

no, no, no, no, no—

his brain latches onto the worst possibilities immediately. how bad is it? is it fatal? what if you’re bleeding out? what if it’s internal? what if he doesn’t react fast enough?

what if he loses you?

his stomach twists violently, a familiar, awful panic rising in his throat, threatening to choke him.

because this—this exact fear—is something he’s lived through before.

he remembers the first time. the real first time.

losing ortho was something he never saw coming. something he never thought could happen. and even though he’s built him again, recreated him, brought back a version of his little brother—

he still remembers.

remembers what it felt like to be too late. to fail someone he loved. to stand there, frozen in horror, helpless to stop it.

and now—

now it’s you.

you, the only person who matters to him besides ortho. you, the person who understands him, who stays, who chooses him despite all the reasons not to. you, who has somehow become his entire world without him even realizing it.

“oh seven—okay, okay—don’t freak out—no, wait, i’m the one freaking out—”

he rushes toward you but stops short, his hands hovering inches away, shaking.

“w-wait, should i touch you? would that make it worse?? oh seven, what if i make it worse—”

his mind is short-circuiting. too many variables. too many possible failures.

“idia,” you start, but he whirls on you, wide-eyed and frantic.

“y-you have to tell me exactly how bad it is, okay? give me a numerical rating—no, no, wait, i don’t trust the pain scale, um—can you move?? do you need a doctor??”

his breathing is erratic, his fingers clutching at the edge of his hoodie like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded.

but then—just like before—you try to reassure him.

“i’m okay.”

he stops.

his whole body locks up, his mind struggling to catch up.

”…are you sure?”

his voice is so small. so uncertain.

because he’s already lost someone before.

and if he lost you too—if this was his fault, if he wasn’t fast enough, smart enough, good enough—

he doesn’t know what he would do.

even when he’s finally convinced that you’re not dying, he still refuses to leave your side. he hovers awkwardly, fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve, clearly itching to do something to make himself useful.

so he does what he knows best—

“d-do you wanna lay down? i, uh, set up a recovery station in my room. blankets. snacks. medkits—y’know, just in case. w-we can watch something comforting, i won’t even complain about the genre. promise.”

his voice is still wobbly, still slightly frayed at the edges, but the tension in his shoulders finally eases when you nod.

and later—when you’re safe, resting, and no longer in pain—

his fingers brush against yours, hesitant, unsure, before finally intertwining them properly.

“never scare me like that again, okay?”

his voice is quiet. but this time, it doesn’t shake.

because he won’t lose you too.

he can’t.

malleus draconia

malleus has lived longer than most.

a century and more has passed since his birth. he has seen generations rise and fall, watched mortals grow old in the blink of an eye. nothing unsettles him. nothing disturbs his calm.

but then he sees you hurt.

and the entire world stands still.

his breath halts, and the air around him shifts—the very atmosphere bending beneath the weight of something primordial, something as vast and unrelenting as the storm-laden skies over the land of briar.

his first instinct is not panic.

it is rage.

“who did this?”

his voice is low, steady, but beneath the surface, something dangerous lurks.

his emerald eyes gleam, faintly glowing in the dim light. the shadows stretch taller, the wind outside stills, the very earth itself seems to pause, as if the land itself knows what kind of wrath is building within him.

his hands twitch at his sides, claws curling, magic crackling faintly at his fingertips—not for you, never for you, but for whoever was foolish enough to harm you.

but he stops himself. forces himself to breathe.

because you come first.

he is in front of you in an instant, his movements as fluid as shadow, his expression unreadable. his hands—hands that could command storms, reduce castles to rubble, shatter the very sky—reach for you with an almost unnatural gentleness.

“let me see,” he murmurs, his fingers ghosting over your injury, tracing the bruises, the cuts, the places where pain lingers.

his touch is featherlight, his movements precise, but beneath it all, his body is rigid with barely restrained fury.

“who did this?” he repeats, quieter now, but infinitely more terrifying.

if you don’t answer, if you try to downplay it, if you lie—

his gaze darkens, something thunderous in his silence.

“do not shield them from me.”

he is not so easily deceived. he sees the hesitation in your eyes, the way you waver, the way you avoid his gaze. if you refuse to tell him, it does not matter—he will find out on his own.

but first—

“hold still,” he murmurs, raising his hand.

a pulse of magic hums through the air, a whisper of ancient power curling around your form like a protective shroud. the ache dulls, the wounds begin to close, the pain fades.

“better?” he asks, softer now, something tender hidden beneath the weight of his fury.

but even as he tends to you, even as he ensures you are safe—

his mind is already elsewhere.

because someone hurt you.

and for that, there will be consequences.

malleus does not act rashly. he does not lash out blindly.

but the guilty party will know fear.

“stay here,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your cheek for just a fraction of a second, his touch lingering. “rest. recover.”

and then, as he turns, the air thickens, the weight of his presence pressing down like the hush before a storm, like the crackling stillness before lightning splits the sky.

because someone has made a grave mistake.

and if the gods are watching, they would be wise to offer their mercy—because malleus draconia will not.

congrats on making it to the end! if you enjoyed this, likes, comments, follows, and reblogs are always appreciated—they help motivate me to keep creating and sharing!

[kisssukuna33]

HusbandSukuna! Who's never been the one to understand today's relationships. 50/50? No, his woman will never touch a single bill with her delicate fingers as long as he's alive and well.

HusbandSukuna! Who never understood the whole "giving your relationship time before proposing" thing. You aren't a real man if you drag out your relationship and take what you have for granted, Atleast that must have been what he was thinking when he put a big rock on your finger after dating for only 7 months.

HusbandSukuna! Who takes his role as your fiancé VERY seriously. He asked you to move in with him just right after he proposed. He does everything he can to make sure you feel comfortable in his house. He even went as far to renovate half of the house to your liking despite your much protesting that it's not needed.

HusbandSukuna! Who checks everyday to see if you are wearing the ring he put on you. it almost become a habbit for him to kiss the ring in your finger every single morning. Not just in the morning, whenever you two hangout in the public he intentionally kisses it to give other people the signal that his girl is strictly taken.

HusbandSukuna! Who wants to get married as soon as possible but he respect your time and choices. He doesn't want you to get overwhelmed by this at all, so he waits patiently ( had to restraint himself from asking like 5 times)

HusbandSukuna! Who gets so freaking happy when you finally confront him about being ready for marriage. The moment those words slip from your mouth his hands instantly go to your waist to pull you closer, closer till your foreheads are touching, He places a warm kiss on your temple and the next thing you hear makes your heart warm and fuzzy.

"You are the best thing that ever happened to me, I promise to be the best husband and I swear on my life I will take care of you and protect you till I die, I love you"

HusbandSukuna! Who jumps straight into the wedding planning. He hears from his married friends how stressful wedding planning was to them and he determines to not make you experience any bit of the stress, He tries everything in his power to make things go smooth as possible.

HusbandSukuna! Who breakdown in tears the moment he saw you walking the aisle to everyone's shock. The grumpy tatted 6'4 scary big guy who has given them nothing but attitude crying over seeing the love of his life walking down aisle? Who would have thought.

HusbandSukuna! Who immediately intertwine your fingers with his as he looks into your eyes like he sees nothing but the whole world in them and wait no minute to whisper "The prettiest, mine"

HusbandSukuna! who finally breaks free from his staring as the wedding officiant clears his throat to let him know that there's a whole wedding left to finish.

Everyone expect him to do a short vow and get done with it. Sukuna isn't known as the most expressive guy after all, but to everyone's surprise the vow lasted whole 15 minutes!! It was filled with nothing but love and appreciation for you and the little grin plastered in his mouth at the end of the vow makes it obvious how proud he was of himself ( I mean practicing this costed him a years worth friend too, after he suggested Sukuna to add some dirty degrading sex joke about you in the vows he ended up punching the guy as a result, so hell yeah he's proud of this!)

HusbandSukuna! Who keeps the honeymoon destination as a surprise till last minute, and your heart fills with joy as you realize he took you back to the beach you two first met, a place special to you both.

He booked the hotel room with the best view to the beach as expected.

HusbandSukuna! Who's heart feel warm all of a sudden, it's only a year ago he believed himself to be someone who's unable to be loved. Oh how much have changed since then.

HusbandSukuna! Who takes your hand and drags you to the balcony for a dance.

The smell of the beach, evening lightening, sounds of the ocean..All adds to the atmosphere as you two get lost in yourselves.

HusbandSukuna! Who takes a glance at the beach and sees a young family, not much older than both of you playing in the sand with their little girl.

HusbandSukuna! Who has a small smile tugged at his lips as he mentally promises to himself that he will return here again after you two finally complete your own little family.

No grammar checks, forgive me I'm too lazy

What do we think about part 2?