#eh fuck it why not. it's practical when you need to find those back as you write

[sturnioloslife]

MY PRETTY BOY

summary. . .over the past few hours, you could not keep your eyes off matt. once you got home, you had to do something about it.

pairing. . . matt sturniolo x fem!reader

warnings. . . HEAVY SMUT, moaning, kissing, rough!fem, sub!matt, established relationship, overtsimulation, male receiving, female receiving, sooo all the good stuff.

—————————————————————————————————————————————————

all day, matt had been teasing you. he had been calling you a “good girl”, “ma” and all these other names that had been driving you CRAZY. the two of you had spent the day at an aquarium. you had been going around town, walking into new stores, shopping, chatting and having such a great time. you couldn’t help but notice matt’s pink hoodie. he rarely ever wore it, but when he did, it drove you insane. the way it hugged his chest and loosely flowed down his arms.. you just couldn’t handle the desire for matt anymore.

as matt walked through the front door, he let out a heavy sigh. “fuck, i’m so exaughsted. today was so tiring but so fun” you smile at him as you nod. “yeah it was fun. but i was thinking we could cuddle up and watch movies now, if that’s okay.” you say that, knowing your intention of fucking the shit out of home later. matt nodded, his lighting up with a smile plastered on his face. “yeah, yeah! for sure.”

you two made your way up to matt’s room. when you walked in, you flopped down on his bed. “i’m gonna grab some snacks.” he smiles and quickly runs out of the room. oh how cute he looked when he was excited. after a few minutes, matt returned. he had brought some root beer, chips and sour strips. he placed them on the desk next to the bed before flopping down next to you. he grinned as he looked your way. “hi” he says. “why hello there” you reply, turning your head to meet his icy blue eyes. you grab the remote and press play on a movie as you both sink into the bed, the blankets and soft pillows engulfing you.

as the movie played, you looked over at matt. the strands of hair falling in his face. the way his eyes lit up at the funny scenes and the way his lips parted when something shocking happens. he looks so fucking adorable, you thought. matt’s eyes met yours when he caught you staring, his face flushed softly and he looked back at the tv. you couldn’t help but smirk at his reaction. “what’s got you so flustered, hm?” you say smugly. “nothing.” he replies, noticeably embarrassed. “hm, okay then.” you wink at him then turn to the movie.

as the movie ended you faced your body towards matt’s. “ya know, it pissed me off how you were teasing me all fucking day with those petty little nicknames.” matt’s eyes widened as he looked at you. “i’m sorry, ma. i didn’t mean to make you upset..” he replied. “i think i need to do something about it.” matt’s face flushed gently as he looked at you. “and.. what would that be?” you smirked and placed a hand on matt’s clothed thigh. “that’s for you to find out.”

TIME SKIP!

the only sound coming from the room was heavy breathing. you stared into matt’s eyes as you climbed on top of him. he looked up at you, his eyes full of want and need. “fuck.. i need you. p-please..” matt said, desperately. practically whining. you trace your finger down his jawline before slowy tipping his chin up. “eh? didn’t quite hear you, matty.” matt’s eyes roamed down your body before shooting back up to your eyes. the bulge in his pants grew at a relentless pace. “mommy, i need you.. really bad.” you smile. “and what would need from me?” matt frowned, pouting slightly. “i.. i don’t wanna say outloud.. it’s weird.” you giggle and lean in closer, your warm breath against his lips, sending a shiver down his spine. “you’ve gotta tell me baby, or else i can’t help.. that.” you say, referring to the bulge in his pants. “please. fuck me.. fuck me till i can’t breathe” he looked up at you with desperation, his eyes glossy and his lips puffy.

you smashed your lips against his as you climbed into his lap. his hands trail over your body and you immediately stop. “no touching unless mommy says so, okay?” matt nodded. you grabbed his wrists and pinned the above his head, he let out a little gasp. you kiss down his neck and along his collar bone. you slowly take off his shirt and smirk at the sight of his toned stomach, his shirt somewhere in the floor now. you run your fingers up and down his torso. he shivered at the touch. you begin to slowly pull down his light blue jeans, the car keys still attached. his bulge looked so big under his boxers. you couldn’t help but gasp at the sight of precum leaking through the grey calvin cline underwear. as you placed your hands on his v-line and started to pull down his boxers, he whined. whimpers left his pretty lips as he watched you, he was so desperate for you and your touch. it was mesmerizing. his hard dick slapped against his stomach as you pulled it out your thighs clenched and the sight went straight to your core. “please.. mama.. c’mon. i need ya so bad..” matt whispers. you smile down at him.

you gently wrap a hand around his base. your lips sink down onto him. he was so long and big. it was so hard to fit him in your mouth. you slowly started bobbing your head up and down on him, and for the part you couldn’t reach, you jerked off. matt whimpered and his glistening eyes watched you intently. “hey.. uh can you.. uh..” he said hesitantly. “take off your top.. i wanna see your pretty tits.” you smirked at him. “since you asked nicely..” you lifted your shirt off and matt’s eyes widened. “so pretty.” he reached out to grab one and you grabbed his wrist. “no, no, no. remember what i said? no touching unless you get permission.” you smirk and he nods, apologizing.

you place your head back on his dick and start bobbing your head at a relentless pace. matt whimpered and groaned. “fuck.. your mouth f-feels so good.. on m-me.. on my -shit- dick..” you smirked at him and only continued bobbing faster, your eyes glistened with tears as his tip hit the back of your throat, causing you to gag. he took his hand, and tangled his fist with your hair, pushing you down deeper on him as he bucked his hips against you. you pulled your head off and looked at him, holding your hand out under his chin. “spit.” you demand. he immediately obeyed and spit his saliva in your hand. you used it to coat his dick as a lubricant and you started stroking him really fast. you rubbed your thumb over the tip every once in a while.

matt moaned and whined, feeling his climax come close as the knot in his stomach tightened. he let out several strangled moans. fuck, he looked so good. “AH.. fuck mommy.. shit!! shit i’m cumming!“ continue jerking him off until he lets out one final pornographic moan as his cum shot up in the air, landing on his stomach and your hand.

you slowly shimmied down your jean skirt, revealing your light pink panties. the one with a bow tied on the front. matt’s favorite. your pussy is throbbing and soaked wet as you look at him. his dick was so hard and his eyes were filled with tears of pleasure. you place his tip at your entrance rubbing it back and forth before slipping it into you. “fuck matt, you’re s-so huge” you pull your body up and slam back down, fast. repeating the process until you build a pace going back up and down. throwing you head back, you moan. god you could ride him all day. your legs felt like they were getting weaker and weaker. you place your hands on his chest gaining balance. matt noticed how tired your body was getting, he grabbed my thighs and started to thrust up. he was so good at this. hitting every perfect spot, at such amazing angles. you felt him start to twitch inside you. he must’ve been so close. his eyes stared with overstimulation.

"please… baby… i can’t… it’s… too much… can’t…" he whimpered, his hands clutching at the sheets, knuckles white with the effort to hold on. his body trembled uncontrollably, the overstimulation sending waves of intense sensation through him. his cock, still hard and sensitive, throbbed inside her, a mix of pleasure and pain that left him dizzy and disoriented. his cum shoots up im your pussy as you feel your self clench, cumming too. you both sigh and flop down together.

you cuddle up to him and give him a sweet kiss on the cheek. “my pretty boy.”

I HOPE YOU LIKED IT!!

it’s the first fic i’ve ever written so.. it might be bad!!

BUT HERE WE GO ANYWAY! ENJOY ANGELS!! 💗💗

(not proofread!)

@shorthairchris @sturn10log1rl @sturnstars4 @mattscoquette @bernardsboobs @bernardsbendystraws @submattenthusiast @rlchrissturniolo0 @alyrasturnz @chrissangel @n8doe @deareststurns @thenickgirl @thisisntmattsturniolo @biggyballzben @hearts4thetr1pl3ts @lacyssturns @qrzrrae @evie-sturns @vampmattsbae

[writing-hat]

4 AM midnight thoughts on polyninja's ways of kissing and holding each other!! in honor of valentine's day tomorrow (aka the biggest fucking note that was on my app jfc)

ways the ninjas kiss each other:

Kai

jay kisses Kai on the lips! a big smooch! mwah! electrifying

cole kisses the top of his head often, just to mess with his hair

zane kisses his cheeks, sometimes both, or his hand to see him become an absolute mess

Cole

jay kisses him on the cheek with an evil laugh

zane kisses him on the lips, with passion!

kai kisses him on the lips, the cheeks, the neck, the-

Jay

cole kisses him everywhere because he can and it tickles him!!

kai kisses the top of his head! then ruffles his hair

zane kisses his cheek, and and then lips, and then lips again and he ends with the nose!

Zane

cole kissing lips with passion too! and cheek, while holding him (idk why it seems important to add this here but well)

kai kisses the back of his hands in an attempt at flirting, and his cheeks, before going for the lips

jay kisses him on the cheek! lil shy and bold at the same time! then lips mwah!

idk why but zane = lip kisses for me. sue me.

ways they pick up each other:

Jay

zane picks up jay on his arm like like he's sitting on it but zane's very strong so he's like sitting on his arm like a gremlin/bird does this make sense idk

cole piggybackride / koala // or bridal style (looking at that one moment in island season (i think))

kai picks him up like he weights nothing/like a gremlin, but also let's him climb on his shoulders

Zane

jay picks up zane bridal style AHA! showing them muscles!

kai picks up zane by his hips, and then twirl!

cole holds him, before picking him up with a single hand to get him a bit flustered

Kai

jay picks kai up koala style! again, jay just loves to show his muscles to his partner

cole just holds him like he'd hold a precious egg, with kai's head on his shoulder, enjoying being pampered by him

zane would like. twirl him around as they both wear the most magnificent dresses ever. and then he'd hold him up by the back thighs/hips depending on the comfiest pose

Cole

KAI CARRIES HIM ON HIS BACK ZQGHJGZHJZHJRHZJ

jay loves to surprise hug him! and catches him like that! and then kicks the back of his knees to get cole leaning backwards

zane picks cole bridal style. do you see the picture

bonus of vampire cole's way of biting the others (because of course):

he bites kai's wrist. he bites jay's collarbone. he munches on zane's shoulders while kinda falling asleep because the metal feels good to his teeth or something, like baby tooth? idk

jhzgoizrhjkh melting away iam fine I AM FINE LET ME BE

happy pre-valentine

ALSO WE ALL HAVE OUR HEADCANONS AND ALL! SO YOU CAN COMPLETELY DISAGREE, in the reblogs as well!! I'd love to see people's thoughts uOu)

[nellielsss]

ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴘᴛᴀɪɴ'ꜱ ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ˳༄꠶

Summary: Your captain loves nothing more than spending the night with you in his bed! Although, he wishes that you weren't so hellbent on keeping this thing a secret... A drabble semi-inspired by Touch My Body by Mariah Carey only it's much more intimate and less playful. Author's note: the amount of brainrot I've been having over Yami omfg 😭 😭 I've been OBSESSED with Black Clover and it's possibly worse than JJK... speaking of, I know this doesn't include the JJK crowd, but a girl can still explore her interests!! This also might be very ooc for Yami but IDGAF this is my perception of him. IDGAF if this flops I JUST NEED HIM TO FUCK ME ALL NIGHT LONG!!!!! Pairing: Yami Sukehiro x fem!reader CW: gentle sex, pet names, praising

🪽 Nσɯ ρʅαყιɳɠ…

"Thwap. Thwap. Thwap."

╰┈➤ Those were the sounds that were echoing throughout the Captain's quarters, and there was no way one could mistake them for the sound of anything but Captain Yami's thick, monstrous cock thrusting in and out of you.

"Y-Yami~ Captain Yami~" you gasped, looking over your shoulder at the Captain of the Black Bulls as he fucked--no, made love to you. For a guy who weighed close to 230 pounds, he could be quite gentle with you in bed.

And he had to be, because there was no way that he could harm his pretty little Bull, not when he A. needed you to go out on a mission soon and B. desperately wanted your trust. The latter reason was his cover for going slow if asked about it, at least, because the real reason was much more embarrassing for the prideful captain to admit.

He was in love with you, of course! He's actually had a crush on you ever since he saw you, but he'd never admit to it; he had a reputation to uphold.

"There you go, you've got it, sweets," he said in that deliciously husky voice of his as he gripped your hips and moved you back and forth on his girth. "Fuck, I don't even know how I could repay you for this, pretty girl... letting some big, ugly brute like me have a sweet taste of your body," he murmured, leaning down and pressing sweet kisses to your neck. "Don't even know why you'd agree to see me in private and let me do you in like this, you're way too fucking amazing for me," he thought aloud with a dry chuckle. Even in the throes of passion, he still found a way to be self-deprecating.

"Y-You're not ugly, S-Suke- gah~!" you gasped, feeling him press the head of his cock against your sweet spot for a few moments.

"Whatever you say, princess," he chuckled, relishing the feel of your spongy spot against his tip. "Fuuuck, looks like I found your sweet spot, eh? I'll make sure to make it even sweeter," he added, pulling your hips closer and thrusting as deep as he possibly could.

You buried your face in the pillows that he'd bought for your comfort, much too embarrassed by the sounds you were making. "I don't want my captain losing any sleep when there's missions to be completed," was what you told him when you were at the market.

So sweet to him, was what he first thought. Even when you were practically insulting him with your "compliments," he could still see right through the prickliness and find the gooey inside of your words. He'd never had anyone care for him like this--not since the Wizard King was his captain, and that was because the King had a weird obsession with his dark magic. Sure, you were bound by the respect expected of a captain's subordinate, but you took it a step further and personally cared for him.

He knew it from the moment you joined the Black Bulls and showed what you were made of that he'd somehow get you in his arms & his bed, and when that day came, it was the happiest day of his life, because now he could make sweet, sweet love to you every single night. Even when you complained and made a fuss about it, he could just throw you over his shoulder and carry you to his bedroom.

His sheer strength came in handy, because now he was giving you deep, steady strokes, his thick, tanned cock rubbing against your walls deliciously, making you feel things you didn't think were humanly possible

For such a brute, he could be so sweet, but that was because he wanted to repay you for your sweetness.

"Hey, pretty, don't hide your face from me," he crooned, gently grabbing your chin mid-stroke and making you look at him. He smiled fondly when he caught the unabashed love and lust in your eye, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I wanna see my pretty when I make her eyes roll back in her head."

There was it, that cocky streak that he had.

His cockiness could be justified, though; with the sounds you were making, one could imagine that you were ascending to heaven.

"D-Don't tease m'like that, Y-Yami, you know how... flustered I get," you whimpered, stuttering while trying to make your thoughts known. It was so impossible to speak or even think properly with the way he was digging into your guts.

"I know, I know, pretty, but good god is it amazing to see you melt away when I fuck your pretty brains out," he said, the words flowing off his tongue like honey.

He leaned down again and pressed his lips to yours this time, his huge arms wrapping around you even tighter and holding you to him. Was it blatant favoritism? Yes; was it probably going against the rules? Also yes; but neither of you cared, not even a little right now.

Not when he could make his subordinate moan his name over and over again when he made her cum.

His abs flexed and relaxed, his pecs felt hard and soft against your back, and you were just loving every single second of this. No matter how bratty or prickly you got with him, there was nothing like having him dick you down every single night without a care in the world, knowing that you could come to him any time you needed some stress relief or a shoulder to cry on or a dick to ride on. Looking at you now while he sat up straighter, hand still on your head and guiding you back and forth on his cock, he smiled softly once more. In that moment of sweet, unabashed bliss, Yami Sukehiro vowed to someday make you his officially, to show the world that you were his prized girlfriend, the woman who made his heart melt every time he so much as sensed your Ki.

His thoughts were interrupted by that familiar feeling of you squeezing and spasming around his thick pole. "Y-Yami, please-"

"I know, baby, I've got you, I've got you. Yami's got you," he murmured, leaning down to kiss you softly on the lips, his nose burying in your hair and sighing softly. "C'mon, cum on your captain's cock."

Those words were enough to make you arch your back and throw your head back with a loud, heavenly moan, babbling out his name while tears flowed down your cheeks.

"There we go, thaaat's it, cum on m'cock like I know you wanna," he cooed a bit louder this time. Watching and feeling you cum around his cock never got old, and it was enough to make him cum as well with a raspy grunt. "Shit, baby, you got me cumming so soon. I was gonna wait, but, oh well; might as well say fuck it," he said after emptying his balls into your eager hole.

He sighed a sigh of relief once his orgasm passed, and he pressed several kisses to your neck while chuckling softly. "Goddamn it, princess--I fuckin' love you."

"Love you too, Yami," you murmured, too fucked out of your head to even process the aftermath of your heavenly orgasm.

"I know you do," he whispered, rolling you over and kissing you. He kissed your lips over and over again, his cock still buried deep inside of you. "One day, I swear to god, I'll show the world how much I love you. Make all those other uptight captains wish that they had what we have."

Possibly the best part of your night was when you fell asleep in his arms, his body entirely entangled with yours all sweaty and sticky. No matter how sticky you were, he would never give a shit about it. He'd hold you just the same.

"So pretty when you sleep," he said with a soft kiss to the forehead.

Your dear friend and fellow Black Bull, Vanessa, didn't miss the soft glow that graced your gorgeous features when you made your way into the dining hall and to breakfast. "Good morning," you said to everyone with a smile on your face, grabbing a plate and getting the food that you were in need of.

"Is it just me, or is she way nicer than she normally is?"

"Right? Her mood's usually worser than Yami's, especially in the morning..."

"It must be nice to be in love," Vanessa sighed, setting aside her bottle of alcohol for a moment. The other Bulls looked at Vanessa with confusion, the observation making them look at each other as well.

"The hell is she talkin' about?"

© ʙʀᴜɴᴇᴛᴛᴇ-ʙɪᴛᴄʜ77 on tumblr - get your own shit bitches | ca. 6/18/2024

[theboywithburninghands]

So uh... in my last story I sorta implied Pomni was autistic. This is the story that confirms it. I wanted to explore more of her worldview and how she might find ways to pass the time. So this is what came out of it. It's a bit short, but it's personal and sweet and I think you'll like it. Lists T/W: profanity in some of the linked songs? I guess? I hope anyone who reads my stuff has heard the word fuck or shit before...

Pomni paced about her room. Pacing helped her think. She was here indefinitely, and while her boyfriend and girlfriend kept her from slipping too far into existential despair, boredom was a whole different animal. So, after racking her brain for several hours one evening after dinner, she finally settled on the one idea that would offer instant gratification.  

Lists. Lists of what? Well, any kind of list. Chronological lists, best to worst lists and vice-versa, top 100 lists… something about them scratched a hot red itch in her brain. Information could be so overwhelming when it was just flopped in front of you, especially in huge portions. If it was broken up piece by piece based on certain categories, it was far more digestible. You didn’t shove an entire pizza in your mouth, after all, you cut it into slices. Being able to break something down was not only comforting, but satisfying. Maybe that’s why she was so good with numbers…

So, Pomni went to Gangle. She had plenty of paper. Most of her room was covered with drawings of all sorts, done in crayon, colored pencil, watercolors, magic marker, even the odd charcoal. 

“Sure, I can lend you some paper…” Gangle had said with a timid but pleasantly surprised smile. “I didn’t know you liked drawing too, Pomni.” 

Pomni laughed a little. “Um, actually, I was going to make a journal. To keep up with all of the wild stuff that goes on around here, you know…?” 

“Oh, okay! That’s a good idea! I don’t know if I have any regular pencils, but I have some black colored ones. Would that be okay..?” 

Pomni had told her it was perfectly fine, and she went back to her room with ten big sheets of sketchbook paper, three black colored pencils and a red twist sharpener. She made a makeshift desk, the flat side of one of the oversized building blocks in her room and another building block for a chair. No real lumbar support, but eh. Her body was a bunch of pixels anyway. She set her things down tidily, placed one of the sheets in the middle of her desk, and began to write.

She tapped her pencil on her desk. Man, it felt good to have something to fiddle with while she thought… She decided to start with a profile of every other performer in the circus. She began by writing out a quick template, something she could use as a reference so every profile followed the same pattern. After some thinking, she came up with this: 

Name: Their name (duh)

Potential Real Name: Educated guesses on what their real name was before they came here

Likes: Hobbies, favorite foods and candies, favorite people 

Dislikes: Fears, least favorite foods and candies, anything else that bugs them 

Musical Taste: Music I’ve heard them listen to on Layla, or if I’ve asked them. 

*Hobby Related Stuff: See asterisk

Personality: What they’re like. What they’re like to me, others, etc.

*Variable, only if needed for major hobbies

Things like gender or age didn’t matter since she already knew all of those by heart. Personality would be the biggest category obviously… well, the only way to see if it satisfied her was to try it.

So she started with the first person that popped into her head.

Name: Jax 

Potential Real Name(s): Jackson/Jack, John/Jonathan/Johnny, Max/Maxwell, Braxton, First initial J, middle initial A, last initial X, Alexander/Alex, Xavier

Likes: Me, Ragatha, practical jokes, spaghetti and meatballs, lock picking, bowling, Nerds Rope

Dislikes: Corn, bad dreams, condescension, authority, anime, Ayn Rand, black licorice

Musical Taste: Radiohead, Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Alice In Chains, Foster the People, Soundgarden, Garbage (the artist), Linkin Park, Flyleaf, whoever wrote that song “Pepper,” Big Black, Bad Brains

Personality: Formerly a bitter, selfish assho-

Hm…

Pomni stopped to think. She had never tried actually writing down a swear word here before. They were never censored in her head, thankfully, but as soon as they left her mouth they were filtered out. 

She picked up her template sheet and wrote “asshole” in the bottom left corner. A few moments later, a black censor bar appeared over it. Pomni smirked ruefully and went back to Jax’s profile, scribbling out the beginnings of her swear word and continuing. 

Personality: Formerly a bitter, selfish jerk. In fact, in some ways, he still is. One of the first adventures I ever went on with him, he threw me out a window between two moving trucks. He kept putting things like tacks and whoopee cushions on my chair at dinner, hid bugs in my room, he was awful…  A few months later, he let me come into his room and talked to me about the law of entropy… He actually said he was sorry for the way he treated me after that. Then he got me my favorite food (honey-glazed garlic salmon), down to the way I like it cooked. I kissed him. He kissed me back. We kissed a lot. We didn’t really know what we were for a while, but it got made clear pretty quickly that we both loved each other.  

Now he’s… better. Not perfect… no one is perfect, but… he’s grown a lot. I don’t know what changed. He told me once he acted like such a bully so people would forget about this whole purgatory situation and be mad at him instead of at the world. I didn’t believe that then and I still don’t. I could ask him, but I don’t know how he’d react. I guess I’ll wait and see.

Anyway. He’s great, really. Underneath that sandpapery outer shell, he’s just as vulnerable and human as the rest of us. He’s funny, he’s charming, he’s handsome… and most importantly, he’s genuine. I love him. 

Pomni smiled at this completed profile and set it aside. She paused to sharpen her colored pencil, the lead on the end worn down to a nub. After it was sufficiently sharp, she grabbed a fresh sheet of sketchbook paper, cracking her knuckles and fixing her posture before getting back to work. 

Name: Ragatha

Potential Real Name: Agatha, Raquelle, Ann/Anna/Annie, Annabelle, Agnes, Anya, Christie

Likes: All of us here- me included, horses, video games, ballet, hugs, stuffed animals.

Dislikes: Centipedes, circus peanuts, ripping her stitches… she doesn’t have a lot of dislikes.

Musical Taste: Aretha Franklin, Roberta Flack, Smokey Robinson, Tom Petty, Pink Floyd, OutKast, Kendrick Lamar, Joan Jett, Carole King

Video Games She Likes (Heavily Abridged): Dark Souls Trilogy, Final Fantasy VII, Legend of Zelda, Goldeneye, Spyro the Dragon, Bloodborne, Uncharted 2, Assassin’s Creed 2, tons more…

Personality: When I first got here, I thought Ragatha was just being nice to me because I was new. But she just… never stopped being nice. She always had my back, always had something encouraging to say… I left her behind like a coward the first day I was here and she didn’t give up on me. I look up to her.

She’s not perfect. She can be a bit arrogant without meaning to, and she used to let Jax walk all over her, but… well, things are a lot different with Jax now. And I think she helped in some way with that… 

I love her just as much as I love Jax. I couldn’t imagine life without her sweet smile and her cute laugh and her hugs. Oh my god, her hugs! I HATE hugs, but somehow she makes hers incredible. She’s incredible.

Pomni re-read the profile and grinned. Oh, this felt so GOOD. Being able to put her thoughts down and in the form of a neatly organized set of lists. Scraps of order in this world of never ending chaos… She needed to write more.

She sharpened her colored pencil again and started work on Gangle’s profile, breezing straight through it and moving on to the next person. Zooble’s profile wasn’t as complete as the other three so far, since Pomni didn’t know as much about them. She would just have to add more to it the more she found out about Zooble. 

She was a good ways into Kinger’s profile, adding Luna moth to his list of favorite insects, when her eyelids sagged. Pomni grunted and rubbed her eyes. Time must have really gotten away from her. She should ask Caine for a clock. Well… maybe not. Seeing time slowly creep by in this prison would probably do more harm than good. Either way, she must have been writing for an hour or two, it made sense for her to be tired. She went on an adventure that day. 

She decided to take a break, give her brain a chance to wander. She crossed her arms on her desk and laid her head atop them. Sketchbook paper always had a pleasant, ethereal smell to it, like a shaft of sunlight illuminating a shelf of old yellowed scrolls in a castle’s study. She loved that smell. Pomni felt even more at ease. She found something to pass the time, and nobody could stop her. She could write as many lists as she wanted, about anything she wanted. She closed her eyes, the warm, private dark behind her lids the perfect place to imagine what she could write next. 

Within minutes, she was asleep. 

——

The faint yet insistent song of birds woke Pomni up. She blearily opened her eyes, lifting her head up off of her arms, the spots on them where her head rested warm and flushed. Pomni reached a gloved hand to her right eye and rubbed it, something slipping off of her shoulders and drifting politely to the floor. She turned around to find her comforter rumpled about her chair. It must have been draped over her while she slept at her desk. Did she do that..? She turned back to her desk.

 It took her eyes a moment to defog, but everything on her desk was right where she left it, Kinger’s profile stopping at Luna moth. She stretched, a yawn bubbling up and escaping her mouth. She picked her blanket up and made her bed, tempted to flop right back down onto it and get some more sleep. But she needed to organize her things first. 

She yawned into her palm and picked up the completed profiles, tapping the sheaf of papers on her improvised desk so they fell into order. She blinked and examined the top sheet. It was written in purple colored pencil, not her black one, and it definitely wasn’t her handwriting. She held it a bit closer.

Name: Pomni

Potential Real Name: No idea

Nicknames: Pompom, Poms, New Stuff, Newbie, Shorty, Clownface, Jingles

Likes: Jax and Ragatha, Salmon and rice, number puzzles, swimming, long walks, lemon drops, fudge ripple ice cream, cuddling

Dislikes: Hugs from strangers, snakes, spicy candies, cooking, whoopee cushions

Musical Taste: U2, Coldplay, Snow Patrol, Marina and The Diamonds, Regina Spektor, Keane, Ariana Grande, Corinne Bailey Rae, Duffy

Personality: Pomni shouldn’t have lasted long here. She’s a nervous wreck that’s prone to crying, depression, overstimulation and anxiety attacks. We were all a little worried she would abstract early. 

But she never did. She showed everyone that not only is she tougher than she looks, she’s smart as a whip and one of the most courageous people any of us have ever met. She’s a great friend to everyone, and never gave up on even the people here that seemed beyond help.

We all love you, Pomni. 

Pomni set the piece of paper down on her desk. She rubbed her eyes again, her glove coming away flecked with water. She got everything organized, sliding her paper and pencils under her bed. She took the sheet with purple handwriting, folded it neatly, and tucked it into her pillowcase. She rubbed her eyes again, sighed shakily, and opened the door to her room, ready to meet the sunrise. 

[infoglitch]

This..

Ok hold on the fuck is with the fuckin tags?

Ok then... Guess I'm pissing off even more people.

Let's talk about gravecest and why I like it despite my... Apprehension to other taboo ships.

First of all hello tcoaal community, I'm glitch, and this is the only time I will ever talk about gravecest and the only time you shall ever hear from my blog.

Ok to begin I need to state something. So I as shipper trash don't.. normally enjoy incest ships (I usually jokingly call it heresy but eh) I understand it obviously is just a ship and clearly not meant for me.

Yet here I am talking about a ship from a game who multiple antis claim is not ok due to the incest... Despite the fact this has our main characters commit cannibalism and murder.. also working with demons (which the latter isn't really against a law but still)

But my gripes with antis aside. I enjoy gravecest, but is less from me being shipper trash and more due to the fact that in the narrative.. it makes sense.

I am someone who mainly ships things that are being pushed by the story and dear god does gravecest get pushed HARD.

From the small lines such as Andrew imagining if him and Ashley did jump together in a joint suicide then both their corpses would be mangled messes to the point they couldn't be separated. To the dream sequence where we see the aftermath of what was definitely Andrew blowing out Ashley's back.

These two are essentially meant for eachother.. due to their horrible circumstances, Andrew practically being forced to raise Ashley once she's born, add that on with his and Ashley's parents not being prepared to raise them and only having Andrew because their mom got knocked up before she was even 30. Then only to have their parents leave them to basically die as they live their life with just the two of them.

Andrew and Ashley are who they are due to the absence of actually responsible parents. Due to Andrew being the only real source of consistent affection for Ashley she essentially becomes dependent and partly obsessive over him (like not the over romanticized yandere type of shit but more of the fact Ashley is constantly wanting to make sure Andrew is RIGHT THERE by her) and this unfortunately lead to Ashley getting rid of anyone that might steal Andrew from her... Or more accurately, steal Andy from her. Id go into why this is so important but... I'm not in deep enough to get full-on psychologist for these characters.

But due to Ashley's nearly sociopathic tendencies this lead to Andrew becoming the man he is now. Andrew currently has gotten to the point he feels.. well he feels love towards Ashley, and not familial love.

He WANTS her but Andrew is also someone who was taught that "these feelings are wrong, this is NOT OK" which they aren't ok, obviously but regardless he still feels them and the longer Ashley is around him and pushing his buttons, those feelings are only going to intensify. And eventually it will boil over.

But obviously Andrew despite his horrible family isn't faultless. He is growing overly protective of Ashley and to the point he's killed someone to ensure she is safe, he has done a lot of terrible things currently

The story has set these characters so they have no ability to find connection with others and at this point they probably don't want to. They are written to be stuck together yet also to be toxic to each other because well, they are, Andrew Is extremely overbearing, extremely possessive and is potentially quick to anger. Ashley is just a sociopath who got treat as if she was pure evil and now she's a manipulative and equally possessive woman. Their toxic for each other but they have no one else to trust.

The narrative has essentially made it so these two are the ones who will bring about each others end because their terrible for each but yet still love eachother.

To me this isn't saying "incest is cool" or any shit the antis are saying, it's saying "this is what happens when some people are just met with bad situation after bad situation."

But I've just been rambling and making no sense. and I will refuse to elaborate or fix this.. because I am very tired.

But in short for this meaningless post.. I am gravecest trash.

[athynathens]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙖 𝙙𝙖𝙢𝙣 𝙟𝙖𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙩.

“your fanbase is a group of psychopaths!”

PAIRING. Akashi Seijuro x Isshiki Usagi [author’s OC]

ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE. This oneshot covers the Kuroko No Basket AU. It will first take place in Teiko Junior High before highschool. However, there’s a bit of a crossover in the full story of this oneshot. If you finish this, and you like it then you may go to my AO3.

SYNOPSIS.All Isshiki Usagi wants is to return the stupid jacket to the top student of Teiko Junior High, but many encounters had to happen along the way. Here she thought cooking sweats the shit out of her, but it turns out giving his jacket back sweats the shit out of her even more.

AUTHOR’S NOTES. Unfortunately, there are no steamy scenes here. Just the typical highschool scenes ukuk? Honestly this crossover is just so random cuz idk bros, crossovers are just so entertaining and intriguing for me so why not make one, right?

Isshiki Usagi is many things that the great Akashi Seijūrō couldn’t understand and tolerate. He can’t even believe he is admitting this, but he made a mistake by lending her his jacket. He is blaming himself for acting such a gentleman enough to offer his jacket due to the cold weather.

However, the reason why he is getting so worked up right now is because he couldn’t believe that he is getting pinned in the wall by the one and only Isshiki Usagi.

“Isshiki, what is this?” Akashi asked, trying to hide his annoyance. His likeness for Isshiki is dwindling heavily at the moment.

“Eh? I pushed you against the wall.” Isshiki replied as if it’s the most obvious answer.

Akashi’s eye twitched a bit. “That’s not a concrete answer, Isshiki.”

“Well, I just wanted to try it for fun, I guess?” Isshiki answered back with confidence. Her answer caused Akashi to really almost snap at her for giving such a stupid answer.

“Isshiki. This behavior is highly unacceptable and unladylike too. What if someone gets hurt by an action like this?” Akashi asked, practically begging her to get off him.

Isshiki just stared at him. “Geez!! Alright! Alright!! You take everything so seriously!” She whined, getting away from him as she walked 5 steps away from him. Akashi mentally thanked the heavens for giving him the space needed.

“So why did you pull me in he—seriously, you should really take care of your fanbase, bro,” Akashi couldn’t believe it. He just got interrupted by this lowlife of a girl.

“If you are complaining about why you’re here then, blame your fanbase! Not me!” Isshiki yelled, crossing her arms as she looked at him straight into the eyes.

Akashi has to admit. No one, absolutely no one has ever made him look so dumbfounded. “Why are you bringing my ‘fanbase’ to this conversation?”

Isshiki sighed, rubbing the sides of her foreheads. “YOUR FANBASE IS A GROUP OF PSYCHOPATHS!”

Akashi blinked thrice. “Heh?”

“Like for fuck’s sake, all I wanted is to give you your jacket but NOOOOO!! Your fangirls are such a hassle! As I was gonna give you your jacket a while ago, I fucking saw a group of girls watching you walk. I find that so scary, for your information. BUT ANYWAY! I overheard them saying ‘ I’ll kill anyone who takes Akashi-sama.’ ‘If I can’t have him then, no one else can.’ LIKE?!? Do you know how scary it is just to walk up to you knowing those psychos can ambush you any second?!?” She complained.

“So here is your fucking jack—Heh?” She stopped her sentence when Isshiki realized that she fucking left the damn jacket in her classroom.

“Hm. I was wondering when you’ll notice,” Akashi simply said, causing Isshiki to shriek in anger and annoyance.

“YOU KNEW? AND YOU DIDN’T TELL ME?” Isshiki yelled, clenching her fist in irritation, not understanding why he didn’t tell her.

Akashi sighed. “Meet me here tomorrow to give me my jacket, Isshiki. Stop wasting my time.” He slightly glared, walking out of the room.

Isshiki just sighed tiredly. “Trust me on this, Red. I don’t want to also associate myself with you for long…” She shivered violently, remembering the pyscho fangirls at this school.

With that, over the past week, Isshiki tried to give the jacket back, but many, as in many, encounters happened during the process. The main reason? It’s simple to be honest. It’s all because of Akashi’s forsaken fangirls once again. For some reason, those psychos are really good at finding out what Akashi’s doing.

Every fucking time Isshiki finally has the moment to give Akashi his jacket, those fangirls would appear out of nowhere. Isshiki isn’t even exaggerating at this point like even at the quietest room the two would find, they’ll still be interrupted by those fangirls.

Even waiting for Akashi by the gate is a no-no since he has basketball practice. Heck, Isshiki tried leaving it by his locker room, but it was another failure since a crazy fangirl tried stealing it to keep it to herself.

Getting that jacket back from that crazy girl took a lot of Isshiki’s manipulative sweet talking and mental energy.

Right now, Isshiki is really feeling bad for Akashi. The number of times she asked him to meet up to only not go as planned is really making her feel guilty. It’s obvious Akashi has many things to do, and it’s bothering her heavily that he has to adjust his schedule because of her.

That’s why she needed to give his damn jacket back.

Hence why the two decided to meet up at the back of the school. People rarely go there, and it’s pretty much a deserted place. So there’s no way in hell those pyschos would find out about that place, right?

WRONG! They knew about it already.

So the duo ran to the science lab then to the rooftop to hide temporarily from them. All this running just to get away from Akashi’s stupid fanbase. “Just how many times we had to run away from your fucking fanbase, bro,” Isshiki panted, wiping her sweaty face with her handkerchief.

Even Akashi was getting annoyed at his current situation. All this just to give back his damn jacket. At this point, he should just tell her to stop bothering him about it since he can buy another varsity jacket.

“Just how exactly do you cope with something like that? Do you have to deal with this everyday?” Isshiki asked, catching him off guard.

“Not exactly. The only reason why they are extra attentive with me is because a girl is bold enough to drag me around just to return a jacket,” Akashi coldly reminded. It’s true though. His so-called fangirls weren't this wild till Isshiki started talking with him.

“What the fuck,” Isshiki cursed.

Akashi clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Don’t blame me on th—Why are they treating you as if you aren’t human but something they own?” His eyes went wide with that question from Isshiki.

He snapped his head to her side as he saw your annoyed expression. “Damn it! Just thinking about it boils my blood!! What gives them the right to just decide for you, especially when you’re with a girl? What rights do they have to decide which girl you should spend time with? Like hello? Thats fucking dumb,” Isshiki glared at the air, getting annoyed by the minute.

Akashi just lets out a sigh. “That’s just how it is, alright? Even with my father, he decides for me to build that excellent son image.”

Isshiki stared at him with sorry eyes. She had an idea that Akashi grew up with strict parents, but she didn’t expect him to grow up in such a harsh household. Meanwhile, Akashi knew exactly what those eyes were. He hates those eyes because he has seen the same expression to other girls.

Girls like that think they know what Akashi is going through, but they don’t. It annoyed him to see how they fucking pretend they do, and it frustrates him that those girls “sympathize” with him when in reality, they are doing this to get his attention.

“Fucking stop that. I know those eyes. Don’t act as if you understand me when you don’t,” Akashi harshly growled.

“Stop bullshiting youself, Isshiki. You won’t understand anything since you grew up with loving parents.”

Isshiki just stared at him, waiting patiently for him to calm down. After she noticed he calmed down, she smiled at him softly. “Then make me understand.”

Those simple words made Akashi feel off—not in a bad way but rather a good way. He didn’t expect that at all. From experience, he expected a rebuttal but instead she accepted his words.

“Why?” Akashi couldn’t help but ask this.

“Because you need someone to rely on,” She answered with a smile.

Akashi scoffed. “I already have my teammates to rely on,” He proudly said, and it’s true. He does care for his friends so much that he pretty much relies on them.

Isshiki looked down at his shoes smiling. “I know, but…” She paused as she stepped forward, stepping inside his circle territory. “It’s not wrong to having more people to rely on, don’t you think?”

“But why you specifically?” Akashi asked, curious to know what her answer may be.

“I dunno!!” Isshiki giggled. “Just why not!!”

Isshiki shrugged her shoulders with a smile. “So rely on me, Akashi!!”

Badump. Akashi’s heart skipped a beat in delight for the first time ever.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮 𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙪𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝘼𝙊3. 𝙏𝙞𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮 𝙞𝙨 𝙐𝙎𝘼𝙂𝙄'𝙎 𝙒𝘼𝙔 𝙏𝙊 𝙃𝙄𝙎 𝙃𝙀𝘼𝙍𝙏. 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙢𝙖𝙮 𝙘𝙡𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙮 𝙩𝙪𝙢𝙗𝙡𝙧 𝙖𝙘𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙮 𝘼𝙊3.

[runningwithcoffee]

Riding a Blue

Author's pre-ramble: Teaser for when I finally manage to write this damn fic. Warning: here there be smut.

She's gorgeous.

Ben lay on his bed and admired her in his bathroom doorway, the morning sun nicely lining her curves. She'd looked stunning the night before, he had appreciated the new lingerie that showed off those curves....

...but this was her, his girl, nothing hidden. Nothing between them, just her soft skin and her warm eyes and blonde hair flowing over her shoulders, and her standing there, leaning on the doorway, relaxed and smiling at him, all warm and ready and wanting what she'd been missing for the past two weeks. 'Going on tour'; necessary, but trotting around the States to drum up business for his club's new owners wasn't exactly high on Ben's list of favourite things to do, although do it he would, if he had to, someone needed to go along and keep an eye on the kids.

(When had he stopped being one of the kids?)

He wanted her more than he could say.

So show her.

Ben smirked at her, and slowly drew back the covers, loving how her eyes followed eagerly up his body, then back down again. Why shouldn't he show himself off? He was happy with his body, and she was loving the view.

Oh baby, you try to hide it, but you know what you want, don't you?

He took himself in his hand, slowly stroking, taking care to give her a good view of what he knew she'd been missing. Knew, because he had missed her, too, more than he'd expected, more than he'd realised he would miss any girl. They'd exchanged photos and messages, sure, but Alyssa, for good reason, wouldn't send anything too explicit. Maybe that was a good thing, he'd seen what happened when you left your phone unlocked. He didn't really think any of the Chelsea boys would go too far, probably not more than a few jokes at his expense... but deeper than that, part of him felt strongly that that this was private. This was his, not because he'd taken it, but because she'd given it.

All his.

He watched eagerly as her eyes practically dilated there and then, her hand almost unconsciously slipping over her breasts and down her stomach, before she dived back into the bed, crawling over and lowering her body over his. Ben let go of himself and moved his hand instead up her back, pausing to give a teasing slap to that nice round arse, causing her to giggle before she pressed her mouth hungrily over his.

He bucked his hips up, loving the friction between their two bodies as she kissed him, her legs either side of him, pinning him in place as she propped herself up on her elbows, breaking away from his mouth to plant soft kisses and licks all the way down his neck, whilst one hand gently but firmly forced its way down and in between them, finding the tiny sensitive nipple, playing with it gently, but then with more force as it hardened under her touch. Ben threw his head back, moaning almost inaudibly as she explored him, finding all the places he loved to be touched, but then, as he relaxed against the pillow again, something caught his eye...

...oh fuck me, does she KNOW I can see that?

He wanted to see more, right now.

***

Author's Note: Yeah, this is a terrible title. I'll think of a better one when sober.

Author's Second Note: Well, eh. I still need to write the angst-ridden fic in which these two idiots finally get it togther. It will happen sometime... honest. Also, this isn't set at the present time, it's set in happy-la-la-land where boring American tours are the worst things Chelsea's players and fans have to tolerate.

[blocksruinedme]

smallidarity limlife/emp2 wip clip cause ao3's down

no title, doc is called "smallidarity empires reunion". It's Joel finding Jimmy when he gets back to empires 2 after limited life. Bad Boys is romantic & sexual. but grian ain't here. This is.... rated M? T? there's "i want to fuck this person" and "maybe in this location" but no details of anything, i really don't know where the T/M line is. I cut it right before joel first thinks about sex with jimmy, so.... one paragraph.

(another extended ao3-is-down flower husbands wip here, and a silly smallidarity emp s2 fic, and a modern SmallEtho fic that is "joel fretting cause he doesn't have a label for his relationship with Etho")

"[untitled smallidarity empires reunion]" by BlocksRuinedMe

When Joel rushed into the saloon, he found Jimmy in worse shape than he’d feared. He was sitting up against the wall in a corner, legs pulled into his chest with his arms wrapped around his knees, his silly precious hat balanced between his knees and the crown of his drooped head. It hadn’t felt like long to Joel, but he couldn’t remember if time passed differently for those on the outside - he’d never cared before. 

Joel wanted to race over to Jimmy, to clutch him fiercely, to kiss him, like it had been a hundred years, and probably fuck him up against his bar - that would surely cheer him up. But he didn’t want to startle Jimmy, and maybe he was too sad to fuck?

Whatever, Joel would figure it out. Jimmy was worth it, always. 

“Jimmy!”

Thankfully, Jimmy looked up, his ridiculous hat falling into his lap as he did. His eyes were red, presumably from crying, but didn’t seem to still be wet. Good.

“Joel, oh thank god, I literally missed you so much, I'm literally so happy you’re back- but why so soon?” 

Jimmy would be okay, he just needed some distraction. Luckily, Joel was excellent at distracting Jimmy. 

“Oi, we’re back here, the only god you should be thanking is this one.” Joel could kiss him, and maybe more, soon enough. For now he’d tease Jimmy and get him worked up until he could forget about his bloody curse and then maybe Joel would take Jimmy all the way to his bed before he really distracted him. 

Jimmy scoffed, but he smiled. 

“Are we back on that, then? You expect me to treat you like a god?” Jimmy leaned forward on his knees and used the wall for balance to get to his feet.  “I actually don’t know about that Joel… and I don’t think I’ve ever respected you in any life.”

Good, very good, Jimmy was pushing back, playing, everything would be okay. It didn’t matter who–it would be fine, they’d be together here, and they’d have to wait.

“Hmm, I think you can fake it pretty well there, Timmy.” 

There was a terrible moment of silence as they each held their breath. Joel never called him Timmy on his own, only when they were around… not here, at least not lately. 

Joel was never one to sit with an awkward silence. He stalked towards Jimmy, keeping fierce eye contact as he tried to distract him.

“Why don’t you show me how respectful you can be, eh?”

Joel didn’t really care what shape the next little while took - hell, Jimmy could top him, if he wanted. He just needed Jimmy, his bad boy, no matter what ridiculous outfits they were wearing this time. 

Before Joel had crossed half the distance between them, Jimmy was on him, having practically launched himself across the room. He wasn’t kissing him, it wasn’t sexual, but Jimmy couldn’t have been holding him tighter if it was. His arms were wrapped around Joel’s back, his face hidden against Joel’s shoulders. 

Oh. This was nice too. 

Joel clutched him back without any thought. He had Jimmy, and he was going to keep him safe, like they hadn’t been able to. He’d want Joel to take care of Jimmy, for however long they all had to be apart. He hadn’t asked directly, but he’d implied enough after the funeral. It didn’t matter how many times he died here, so he couldn’t really take care of him that way, so Joel guessed it needed to be… emotionally? How hard could it be, it wasn’t like Jimmy was a complicated person, unlike some people he’d just spent weeks with…

Jimmy kept holding onto Joel longer than he’d expected. Joel didn’t think he was crying, but he wasn’t sure. Joel thought about what he’d seen people do, and stroked Jimmy’s hair and firmly rubbed his back. He thought saying “there, there” might be condescending, so he stayed quiet. Jimmy was never quiet for long. 

Jimmy was quiet for too long. It was only a few minutes, but it was too long for Jimmy, and much too long for Joel. 

“Hey, Jimmy?”

Jimmy took a deep breath and looked up. His eyes were still red, but this time they looked distinctly wet. Joel kept his hand cradling the back of Jimmy’s head and leaned in to kiss him. Thankfully, Jimmy kissed him back, urgently, hungrily – which was exactly what Joel wanted, maybe what he needed. 

Jimmy dropped one of his arms to wrap around Joel’s waist, which Joel quickly mirrored. It didn’t take long for Joel to very much want to escalate – and the bar was right there.  (Joel had thought so many times about pushing Jimmy up against the bar – he had no idea why it had taken living another life to actually do something about it. Well… maybe he did know what, or who, it had taken.)

[x-0h-m3-0h-my]

fuck it. chapter 1 Take Me to Church sneak peak.

pov character: henry stein

cws: cult mentions, minor injury

Henry had been warned by quite a few studio residents before he entered the so-called 'Cult Territory' that he needed to avoid one very specific person. When he asked for a name, all he was told was "The Projectionist," and to "stay out of its light."

So, suffice it to say, when he saw a bright light illuminating the halls in front of him, and quickly approaching, he ran to hide. This, however, was proven to be the wrong choice. As the sound of his running had alerted the damn thing to his presence. An almost deafening screech rang through the halls, and the artist froze for a moment, finding the sound had a disorienting effect. Before he could keep running, he felt something coil around his wrist, pulling him back. As he nervously turned to face it, he quickly raised his free hand to shield his eyes.

"The... angel?"

But... the monster didn't do anything. All he noticed was the sound of gears clicking, before the creature spoke, in a startlingly familiar voice. "Huh... can't remember th' last time I found someone down 'ere. Did no one warn ya t' avoid 'is place, or are ya jus' the stubborn type?" That... that was Norman's voice. "What's th' matter? Cat got yer tongue?" The tone was almost teasing. He didn't respond. "Eh, guess it don't matter. Well, yer comin' wi' me. 'M sure ya got some use t' The Angel."

Clearly, it heard him, because it stopped to look over its shoulder. "You a'right?" Henry chuckled dryly. "I uh... I'm fine. You're just, um... cutting my hand a bit." The Projectionist quickly let go, carefully lifting his arm to check the damage. "Ah, sorry 'bout 'at. I always forget how sharp those things are. We'll get ya patched up at the base." It then grabbed his other wrist (this time with its actual hand) before continuing to walk. Henry took this chance to study the monster more. It's hands were pitch-black, like the rest of its body- aside from its head, the film, and what he assumed were a speaker and reel of film imbedded into its skin- its fingers were clawed, and it walked with its head leading somewhat. Which he found to be understandable, that thing had to be heavy, right? Speaking of its head, there were several wires that stemmed from the bottom of it, that all connected to various other parts of its body- mainly its upper back, but a few connected to its legs and arms as well.

It paused, tilting its head in what he assumed was curiosity. "Y' really had no clue what you were wanderin' inta, huh? Well, you'll meet 'er sooner or later." It turned to start walking, dragging the blond along by his wrist. Now that it wasn't practically blinding him, he was able to take note of a few features. It was tall, a little bit taller than he remembered Norman being, and it had a projector for a head... the Lost Ones really didn't get very creative with the name, clearly. And, he had found that what was coiled around his wrist was... film. Albeit, sharper than film normally is- in fact, he could see areas where it was starting to draw blood. The tugging from the strands of film as they walked stung like hell, and he tried his best to hide the pained hiss that escaped him.

It was a lot friendlier than the old animator had expected- from the way everyone talked about The Projectionist, he had pictured some sort of blood-thirsty killer, tearing people to shreds without a moments notice- so the fact that it not only didn't attack him, but was in fact intending to help with the injuries it had caused, was a pleasant surprise. Why was everyone so afraid of it?

"So, what brought ya down 'ere? It ain't often I find people 'round this floor... 'specially not people 'at look like you."

"Well, the short and simple answer is that I got a letter from an old friend." Henry tilted his head in confusion. "And... what do you mean 'people like me'?" There was a quiet rumble from the projector, which, based on the tone of its next statement, was probably the closest thing it had to a laugh. "Well, jus' look at yerself. You don' look nothin' like a searcher or Lost One, 'n ya sure as hell ain't a wolf or a Butcher Gang member!" It shrugged before continuing. "We don't get many people who don't fit one o' those groups."

"Well... what about you? You don't fit those groups either."

That quiet rumbling again.

"Yeah, I s'pose I don't. But I certainly don' stick out nearly as bad you do. Hell, you ain't even ink like th' rest o' us..." It trailed off for a moment "Yer human, ain't ya? Whoever 'at friend was 'at suggested y' head down 'ere must o' been a real piece o' work."

"Why's that?"

"Tell y' what?"

"It ain't safe down 'ere fer the rest o' us, let alone someone 'ats human. Yer jus' lucky I found ya before th' Prophet did." The artist paused. "The Prophet? Who's that?" This question seemed far more concerning to The Projectionist, as it stopped firmly in its tracks. "Did ya bother t' learn anythin' 'bout this place before y' got 'ere?" Henry could feel his face heat up from embarrassment. It definitely had a point there. "I- I tried to, but all anyone would tell me was to... uh..."

"To um.... avoid... you." He chuckled nervously, staring at the floor. Gears clicked for a moment before it responded. "Eh, fair 'nough. I guess I can be pretty scary t' outsiders." It shrugged, starting to walk again. "Th' ones y' really gotta worry 'bout round 'ere 's the Prophet 'n his so-called 'flock'." The artist wanted to ask more, but he had a feeling that the monster didn't want to discuss the Prophet any further.

[tea-with-evan-and-me]

(Welp, sorry for the delay in this! I'm making a baby blanket and I'm only 2/3 done and it's for Tuesday and I have no feeling in my hands cos I also box, AND I'm about to get my period so of course my womb's like 'bitch ignore Evan, what about Stanislav Boklan' (Google him, you'll see why it's not a problem), but I finally got some Evanspo so voilà mes belles! ~ Belgianon <3)

After their bagels, Amelia and Evan took a little walk in the local park. Evan, as always, was enjoying the anonymity of Brussels more and more, and as they walked along and discussed this and that, Evan found himself relaxing even more. And Amelia’s words rang earlier, in his head: You’ll never be too much for someone who can’t get enough of you. He’d actually used his French today. Never in a million years had he thought he’d actually use his French, yet he had done so, and Amelia had supported it and encouraged it. Sure, he’d fumbled, but she’d been there for it. Just like she’d been there for rewriting an entire scene just so he didn’t need to be hit. Just like she’d understood his need for quiet moments, when she’d scrolled TikTok while he’d caught up on a book. Companionable silence.

A cyclist gave him an opening to seeing if he wasn’t just a little twitterpated with her for her kind treatment of him, or whether she actually felt something for him. A cyclist came careening out of nowhere, and Evan snatched her out of the way quickly, scooping her up and off her feet, right onto the sidewalk proper. Amelia yelped, but clung to him, head spinning to find the danger.

“Cyclist!” Evan cried. “Sorry! I didn’t want him to hit you!”

Amelia made no effort to move. She stayed where she was, quite safe in his arms.

“Well… those fuckers can be lethal…” she looked up at him, and grinned. “My hero! I’m going to start calling you Captain America.”

“And if I move to Brussels?” Evan’s arms were still firmly around her.

“Eh, I don’t think you’d be able to handle me harassing you for script-reading and croissants. Every other day.”

“The coffee’s good and no-one knows me here.” Evan grinned down at her. “I think that’s reason enough to stay.”

“Er, je t’excuse, monsieur,” Amelia replied, pushing back. “Beer, frites, boulettes and CARBONADES!”

“Those too, I guess.”

“I can’t believe you’re pretending like you didn’t practically orgasm when you had your first waffle, as well. Those noises will stick with a girl.” Amelia started walking away. Not because she was bored, but because that hadn’t actually meant to come out of her mouth. Evan, conversely, broke into the biggest grin he’d ever had.

“They will, huh?” Evan murmured, catching up to her. Amelia was beetroot, right to the tips of her ears. “You mean like ‘mmmnh’?” He groaned a little, his grin plastered right across his face, lighting it up.

“Not quite. Try again.” Amelia couldn’t keep the shaking from her voice. Playing it cool was a good tactic, but not one that she actually had the confidence to uphold.

“Oh – more like ‘nnnmmmmh yeah’?” He stopped her at a little empty copse of trees in the middle of the park, arm above her on the tree. “Or was it more like ‘nnnnnhhhh’?” he bit his lip, letting his eyes roll back. He didn’t need to imagine too much. He did unspeakable things in the shower making those exact noises every morning right before he joined her on set. The hardest part was making sure he didn’t actually get turned on in public.

“Stop,” Amelia breathed, still beetroot. She looked up at him. “Or at least let me find out what happens when I’ve fucked around.” It wasn’t possible for her to go redder, really. But she did. And Evan was charmed.

“Shit, Amelia, if I’d known you were this shy, I wouldn’t have done it in public.” His smirk was cheeky. He would have done way worse…

“I’m not shy,” Amelia mumbled. “I’m just not good at flirting when it’s returned.” She covered her face with her hands and leaned back against the tree. Evan stroked her forearm, and when she dropped her hands, stroked her face.

“I lied earlier, by the way. About Brussels. It’s not the city or the ‘meh’ food…” he smirked. “It’s you.” Amelia stared up at him in horror. “What?”

“Well, my plans for beer, frites and waffles body shots has just gone right out the window.” More blush. Evan choked.

“Oh, I think it’s time for you to find out, sweetheart. You’re fuckin’ around real hard…” Evan caught her jaw in his hand and ghosted his lips against hers. “You’d better be good on the way home…”

“Make me.” Evan looked down at her, pupils blown. He grabbed her hand and dragged her from the park towards the metro station. And for the first time since he’d been in Brussels, he didn’t make his usual comment about the originality of Parc/Park metro stop being called that when it was in a Park.

welcome back belgianon 💗💗

[eliotquillon]

PLOT: shelby/lucy. anastasia/nero. elena/nero. raven/verity >:^)

shelby/lucy: doesn't make sense, compels me. i have no idea why i latched onto them as a couple bc they hardly interact one on one (other than shelby technically being the one who introduced her to the others?) and realistically shelby/laura or lucy/laura makes more sense if we're talking abt ships that have any kind of foundation in canon. However this is maybe exactly WHY it compels me. i think they have a lot in common tbh (difficult family relationships, attempted concealed identities). and while i find shelby super shippable with every core four member i can never really see any of those relationships working out in the long run for her (shelby/laura i always see as one sided/laura choosing otto, shelby/otto is a short lived teenage fling that has tons of chemistry but is also super tosxic for them both, and bloodline epilogue kind of confirmed my 'shelby and wing go on a 'break' post graduation and just never get back together' headcanon), whereas with lucy i think i can? like they have a good enough balance of similarities and differences (whereas shelby/otto are too similar and shelby/wing are too different for me). idk obviously in canon it could never work because lucy fucking DIED but it's fun to imagine aus where she didn't!

anastasia/nero: makes sense kinda, compels me. im so sorry mark walden i say this w all the love and respect in the world you CANNOT tell me you wrote those books not intending us to believe anastasia and nero hatefucked nasty. the whole bucharest thing is so deliciously vague like...idk what else couldve gone on. my more 'fun' nerostasia headcanons (eg that anastasia and elena were the twins, that anastasia/nero had some overlap with elena/nero) are definitely way out of the realm of canon though so i think i can't say it fully makes sense. anyway yes it compels the hell out of me they are my ants in a lab!!! i think i don't enjoy them on their own so much as i enjoy them as part of the rich tapestry of Fucked Up Furan Dynamics like the two are inextricable for me. but anyway yeah i think one of my fave fics ive ever written was that bucharest nerostasia fic. they really get my brain goin

elena/nero: makes sense, doesn't really compel me. makes sense because the whole romeo and juliet thing and also in the wider fanon saga of nero vs the furans it is objectively funny and very in character for nero to turn around and make his nemeses' baby sister into a teen mom. however while i am incredibly compelled by nero and the furans as a family, and am SUPER SUPER obsessed w elena on her own, them together specifically is not something i'm super interested in. elena is so so fascinating to me and always has been, but not because of her relationship w nero. i think it's fun to reflect on how nero perceives and elevates elena after her death, and it's fun to talk abt the consequences of their relationship, but the actual relationship itself devoid of any of the furan Drama? eh. just not something that particularly inspires me i don't think

raven/verity: makes sense, UNFORTUNATELY DOESNT COMPEL ME. to be clear when i say makes sense i mean in a hatefuck-y way. they were definitely homoerotically obsessed with each other even before raven murdered verity's sister. i wish wish WISH this was something that got my brain chugging because on paper it ticks all my boxes (messy hatesex, lesbians, assassins) but in practice it's just never been something i've gone 'wow i need to write/think abt this'. DONT GET ME WRONG I LOVE READING IT HINT HINT but i dont think i'll ever write for it

[rogertaylorshbb]

"friends" roger Taylor fanfic {part 2}

I'm gonna be doing 4 parts to this story, part 3 will be posted soon, enjoy!!

the next day you contemplated whether you should actually help roger or not. as much as you would love to go out with Daniel, ava was your best friend and you wouldn't want her to get her heart broken by roger who you knew had girls jumping at him left and right.

At break you sat on a bench outside reading your favorite book when you were disturbed by roger again. "hey so have you talked to ava yet?" he sat down beside you putting his arm spread out across the bench.

"no, because I'm not going to, I take back the deal" you said.

"why, you shook on it!" he responded.

"look, why do you need my help, I've seen how you are with the girls why cant you pick her up yourself if you want her so bad, and in the end I know your probably gonna break her heart anyway, roger, get another one night stand" you explained shutting your book.

"I'm not gonna break her heart, and so what if I just want a one night stand, please y/n, I promise. I- I've tried to talk to her but she's always busy, and this seems more easier, just chat her up about how amazing I am and ill do the rest" he begged.

"its gonna be a bit hard to say your amazing, guess ill have to lie, and if you hurt her I swear to god you will never see the light of day" you harshly smiled.

"I will not hurt her, I swear on it, and trust me ill get you and Daniel a date" he smiled crossing his legs.

you rolled your eyes and waved goodbye walking back to your dorm room. once you entered your dorm room ava was there. she was sitting on your bed reading a music magazine. "oh y/n, so glad to see you!" she jumped up hugging you. "hey, same here, what you doing" you asked making small conversation. "oh just some reading" she said sitting back down.

"ugh y/n, I am so bored, there's nothing to do, all I do is read and read, why don't we ever go out to parties and stuff like we used to!!" she complained with a smile. this was your chance to bring up roger.

"well why don't you find a date...hm that could be nice maybe, find a nice guy, one night stand?" you said.

"a date? I mean that could work, there's no cute guys though" she sighed.

"why-" ah fuck this was gonna be hard to say "why don't you go out with roger"

"roger?" ava laughed "your talking about the stupid and rude roger taylor, are you trying to kill me"

"I'm being serious, he- he's actually not bad, he- uh- he actually apologized for giving me a hard time and you know if you have a one night stand with him you wont get attached" you shrugged.

"huh....I guess he's not bad looking with those blue eyes and all, maybe eh, he always sleeping with girls" she said thinking hard about if it was a good idea or not.

"I mean, what's there to lose, a-" this was also gonna be incredibly hard to say "cute, experienced guy for one night" you spoke.

"well" ava laughed "some girls have told me some pretty cool stuff about him in bed-"

"ew, shut up" you laughed throwing a pillow at her before she could finish. "well you have convinced me y/n!" she got up from your bed "I need to go now, my mum wants to have a 'family meeting' ugh, but ill come back later, bye" she hugged you and made her way out.

*rogers pov*

y/n walked away from me I had finally convinced her to talk to ava about her going out with me, but now I had to keep up my end of the deal, talking to Daniel.

I walked into Daniels dorm room. "hey thought you had band practice?" Daniel questioned. :"nah, I canceled on Brian" I responded.

"then why aren't you bothering some chick" Daniel laughed.

"eh not in the mood, why aren't you?" I questioned.

"ha ha roger, you know I'm not looking too date right now, I have to focus on my studying" Daniel said.

"ugh what a bore! c'mon, why wont you find a girlfriend, do you wanna be alone forever?" I put my hands on my hips.

"alone? I have friends, you for example" Daniel smiled.

"like why don't you go out with someone nice...y/n for a uh- random example" I suggested.

"y/n, huh? why would you say that, thought you didn't like her?" Daniel raised and eyebrow at me.

"so what if I don't like her, saw you too talking today, you guys could make a cute couple" I shrugged.

"c'mon there's a party at bens house on Saturday, why don't you ask her?" I continued.

"fine ill ask her just get off my back about it, jeez" Daniel chuckled.

"well, wanna go out to the movies, I have tickets?" I questioned.

"yeah, wait ill get my shoes" Daniel said picking up his worn out runners.

@sarcastic-sourwolf

[lifblogs]

This is part of a chapter from a WIP that I was rewriting.

———

“It’s obviously a trap,” Crowley spat, leaning back in his chair in the war room.

Dean sat across from him, hunched over, nursing a cup of too-bitter coffee. Cas, what did you put in this?

There was a chance the demon was right. Dead men who matched Dean’s description in Lawrence, Kansas. It was too obvious.

But why would Sam go for obvious?

What was his play?

“Crowley, you’re a demon—” Dean began.

“Glad you noticed.”

“What do you think Sam’s thinking?”

Crowley laughed, and started heading towards the kitchen.

Cas grumbled out, arms crossed, “Where are you going?”

“I need to be drunk for this conversation,” Crowley said.

Dean just let him go find his fix, and he drank some of his coffee.

Castiel came behind him and rested his hands on his shoulders, thumbs idly rubbing against him.

“Is Sam even Sam anymore?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know,” Castiel responded.

“We need to bring him home,” Dean said. “We…” He hung his head, sighing. “God, this is all so fucked up.”

Slowly, Castiel said, “Yes, it is truly fucked up.”

Dean almost felt one corner of his mouth turn up at hearing Castiel swear like that.

Crowley came back in, toting a whole case of beer. He promptly set it down on the table, took a bottle, opened it, and chugged.

Dean watched him, remembering the night before: the slurring, the soft, wonderful haze. And then the twisting and twisting of his stomach, the pounding of his head.

He grimaced, and took a sip of his coffee.

Yep, too bitter. Cas.

“So, thinking like a demon…” Crowley eventually said, taking a seat. “You know what that’s like, eh, Squirrel?”

Dean glared.

Not now, he begged.

He didn’t want to talk about when he’d been a demon, didn’t want to talk about his time with Crowley. Especially not in front of Cas.

Cas’ grip on his shoulders tightened a fraction, but then he moved to take a seat beside Dean, pulling the chair close.

“Just get to the good stuff,” Dean said.

“Fine, no foreplay. Shame, really.”

If Dean’s head didn’t hurt he would’ve rolled his eyes right out of it.

“Really, Moose is just evil. He’s Moose, but Not-Moose. Ah, I like that. Not-Moose.” He took a long swallow of beer, seeming to savor it. “So Not-Moose probably wants you dead or something since I’m sure all that co-dependent brotherly love you had has turned into hate. He’s powerful, and he knows it. Perhaps he was just having a bit of fun, but setting a trap at the same time.”

“You call this fun?” Castiel asked, taking out his iPad and showing the gruesome pictures of the mutilated bodies.

Dean idly noticed that one of the victims had his eye shape. And he looked at those eyes, looked at the dead, pale glossiness to them. The empty stare of death. His stomach churned, and not from a hangover.

There was blood everywhere, pieces of bone, hands gone. It was hard to tell how they could even be put back together. There was a pink, fleshy thing lying by one man’s chopped up wrist. A tongue.

“Fun for a demon,” Crowley responded. “Really, Dean, you’re lucky. He’s taking his anger out before he gets to you. Maybe he doesn’t want to kill you. Either that or he’s planning just how to do it, practicing, seeing what he likes best.

“Sam’s gone dark side before, but he’s new to having this much power. And power? Well, power is everything.”

There was a darkness to his tone as he said it, a deep anger, a regret. Hatred.

Of course that was going to be there, of course he would be feeling that. He’d been usurped by Vadrach, and tortured. Now he had no throne, and he was… What was he? Not Dean’s pet, but something. Not exactly a friend, not exactly an ally. Just… someone. Someone familiar.

“So do we spring the trap?” Castiel asked.

“Might be too dangerous,” Dean said. Even as he said it he hated those words, hated himself. He couldn’t just sit here, hiding away from his brother, hiding from the world, from what had happened to him.

You’re a fucking coward, he told himself.

The words dug deep, but joined a rottenness that was already present, already dying inside him. Inescapable fear seized him, and it settled right in with that dark, defiled thing inside of him that might’ve been his soul. Or perhaps it was wrapped around it, growing and multiplying like a cancer.

Dean held his breath, feeling it wanting to claw its way out.

But then he was being strangled, in Kenesaw.

He was being choked by Sam.

He was—

Castiel shook him. “Dean?”

He blinked, taking in his surroundings, surprised to find that he was in the bunker war room.

“What?”

“You zoned out.”

Oh, if only it’d been that dull.

Dean stabbed the darkness in him, twisting the knife, and he said, standing up, and making to leave the room, “Let’s spring the trap. See what happens. It’s about damn time things got interesting around here.”

After sipping at his coffee he turned away, leaving a disgraced demon and angel to themselves. What a world he was living in.

[stcrmborne]

|| Starter for @wyldshape

Normally, there was something about this time of day when the sun began it’s descent towards the horizon that inspired a sense of melancholy in those who sailed the ocean. Perhaps it was the sorely missed lull of waves steadily rocking beneath her feet or the way the surrounding forest appeared to stretch up like gnarled fingers to blot out the sky in some places and cast horribly jagged shadows across others, but she was quickly finding dusk inland to be an entirely different and unsettling beast. Rhaya had only been travelling a couple days, but with the assistance of a few movement spells she had long forgone any lingering remnants of salt air or the scraggly and more robust flora she had grown so familiar with around ports. It had been easy enough to avoid people or settlements thus far, though now as her light source began to take on murkier hues of orange and patterned the ground with pools of shadow that made keeping an eye out for signs of foot traffic more difficult, she found her pace slowing considerably. Something felt off, but she hadn’t yet come across anything to warrant outright caution. Except… Perhaps the air smelled a little acrid here? “Bit late to be takin’ a leisurely stroll, ain’t it?” Stopping in her tracks, Rhaya turned and found her gaze dropping considerably to land on the green-skinned creature that had stepped onto the center of the path behind her. His tone had sounded amicable enough, but there was something in the way the goblin held himself that put her immediately on edge. “What’s in the pack?” he continued, and this time she picked up on the slightest edge of something less friendly in his words as he looked her over. “Supplies,” she answered, the single word drawn carefully over her tongue in weaponized politeness. Her own posture had grown guarded in return as unease prickled at the back of her neck, but there was still the faint hope she could maneuver her way out of a confrontation. “I’m just passing through.” “Ah, just passing through, eh? Little thing like you so far out in th' woods alone, sure you ain’t lost?” A slight sneer joined the crooning lilt in his voice and Rhaya felt a sharp pulse of loathing ripple across her skin like electricity. She took a measured breath, centered herself, and plastered the farce of a smile across her lips. “Positive. I should really get moving though, it’ll be dark soon—” She watched him take a step forward even as she lifted her foot to put more distance between them, and her heart sank. He wasn’t going to let her leave without at the very least a light mugging. As if in answer to her suspicion, the goblin adapted a smile of his own and boldly took another step forward, his voice practically dripping confidence. “Oh, but you never know what you’ll run into at night. You should really stick with the buddy system, eh? Why don’t ya’ tell me where you’re headed and I’ll make sure you get there safe.” Though the druid’s breathing had turned to shorter bursts and the smile remained fixed unnaturally in place, she felt something in her threatening to bend until it snapped under the weight of newfound hatred for this little bastard man. Don’t say Your mom’s place. Don’t say your mom’s place-- Ah, fuck it all. “Your dad’s place, so I'm really going to need you to fuck off before that rancid thing you call a face tanks the mood and sours my night.” His expression fractured and he barked out something sharply in goblin, something she was certain was a swear but moments later realized was something else: A call to arms. She saw the darting outline of at least four or five others emerge from the trees behind him and a profanity of her own freed itself before she turned on a heel and sprinted at full tilt further into the forest, the sound of more footsteps joining the first as they tore through the underbrush after her.

[mymainwastoocluttered]

omfg I keep coming back here bc I love ur account AND FEEL FREE NOT TO DO THIS RQ JSHSJD but can I req a scenario that's like, Reader is a dragon but doesn't have dragon features and Malleus think she's just a human, But then one day reader turns into their dragon form and destroys a little bit of ramshackle in the process and when malleus is on his midnight walk he sees this and starts jumping to conclusions

Welcome back~ Hope you're doing well~

Where's the dragon? (Malleus)

Note: I only write for female reader, but everyone is welcome to read!

I'm not going to go deep into that, except that I am

— (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠)

How the fuck are you hiding being a dragon from this man?

It's infinitely easier to hide being a dragon when you don't need to hide dragon features. Once you learn how to hide your presence and your magic, even the dragons back in your world would take some time to notice

You didn't expect that to also be the case with Malleus, specially since he's a dragon fae and you're a dragon dragon.

Fae are also not easy to fool, unless they underestimate you (which is why humans can fool them in all those tales, you'd think they'd learn the lesson after a millennium or two.

Maybe that's why he never figured out? Because he thought you were human? Huh. Magic, eh?

Anyway, hiding from him quickly starts weighting down on you. He's a lonely man and a lonely dragon, and you don't want to hold such secret from him after he opened up to you so happily

But... humans were not friendly to dragons where you came from, and your kind is so used to hiding that showing any of your dragoness is... an incredible show of trust and intimacy

But no one in NRC would mistreat you (not more than they already do, in some cases) for being a dragon

And Malleus certainly wouldn't, the sweet dear

But...

But...

But...

— (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠)

Malleus can feel his heart on his throat when he sees the damage on Ramshackle's walls. For a calming midnight stroll, the view is almost nauseating. He doesn't think as he runs---he runs---as fast as he can, practically jumping inside the building.

Then his heart stops.

The room is a terrible mess, like something tried to break every single thing in it. There are claw marks on the floor and some of the furniture is burned.

He can feel the remnants of a dragon's presence.

"(Y/N)!" he yells, forgoing his usual endearment. "(Y/N)! Where are you?!"

"Mal!"

The relief that fills his lungs with the deep breath of relief he takes almost makes him feel like he could float like a balloon. Without wasting another second, he takes her in his arms, picking her up easily, and swallows her yelp in a deep kiss.

"I thought something had happened. The room- and there's a dragon- where is the dragon and what did it do?" Malleus asks, anger rising at the mere thought that the offender might still be around.

"Mal, there's no one," his lover sighs, cupping his face and pecking his lips again, trying to calm him down. "It was all me."

"... pardon?"

"Remember when I said I had something to tell you, but you'd need to wait until I'm ready?"

"Of course I do, Child of Man."

"Weeeeeeeeell... I was, uh, stressing about it a little bit and... kindajustturnedintodragonformwhichbydewayIhaveonecuzI'madragon?"

"Come again?"

Malleus had not expected tonight's stroll to end up with him finding out his girlfriend is a dragon, but honestly, it's the best way the night could've ended.

Now it makes much more sense why she understood his courting so easily.

[theshelbyclan]

Love Language

Summary: Tommy doesn’t say ‘I love you’.

(Gif by @nofckingfighting​)

A/N: Sweet anon asked: Hello i love you're writing! Can i request a tommy one shot imagine where the reader (his girlfriend or wife) finds out in his office, one of the locked drawers has everytning shes ever given to him? Maybe like love letters or random flowers everything he keep 😍🤍 thank you so mych. This request was so amazing to me, because you it made me feel like you understand this character so well? Either way, it made me think, and this is the result. It’s kinda different but I hope you like it! Words: 1448

***

“Tommy?” “Hmm,” the preoccupied reply came. You sounded defeated, against your best efforts, “I love you.”  “I know.” 

***

There’s blood on his shirt. It’s the first thing you noticed when he walked in. Not the mud, not his eyes, not his energy, just the blood on his shirt.

“Who’s is it,” you asked as casually as you could. Tommy lit a cigarette in reply. “Are you okay?” “Yes,” he drew out the ‘s’ like he usually did when annoyed or tired. “Who was it?” you continued. “Y/N,” he held up a hand, “not tonight, eh? Not with the hundred fucking questions tonight, alright?” You remained silent for as long as you could bear, “Just need to know you’re safe.” “You knew who you married,” a low voice replied. “I did.” Tommy stood up again slowly started to walk away.

“Do not,” you hissed, “walk away from me.” “Y/N, what the fuck do you want from me, eh?” he raised his voice, “This is me. This is who I am. And I’m doing it all to give you everything you want. To keep you safe. Alright?” You leaned forward and tried to lock eyes with him, “What I want, Thomas Shelby, is you. In one piece, preferably.” “I know,” he lowered his voice again, “And I understand.” He waved a hand like he was about to say more, but didn’t. “It’s because I love you,” you emphasized. He nodded slowly, “And that’s why I’m doing all of this.”

***

You were sitting at your desk writing. Some people seemed to think that being married to Tommy Shelby was a fulltime job and it could be if you’d let it, but not for you. Even before Tommy you’d been a writer, a journalist and an author of short stories. Neatly you typed them out and send them to the publishers in question. It was the one thing in life that always offered you solace.

“You spelled ‘enthusiastic’ wrong,” you husband commented helpfully after having popped up suddenly behind you. You ripped the page irritably, “Says the man who never even went to school.” “Life taught me how to spell, Y/N,” he sort of joked. “Life taught youhow to spell ‘enthusiastic’? Can’t remember the last time you were ever enthusiastic about anything…” He raised one eyebrow slowly, “How about ‘sarcasm’, can you spell that? Or ‘devil’, how about that, eh?” You pouted theatrically, “Sometimes I’m not even sure you take me and my work seriously…” “Oh, I take it seriously,” Tommy took a drag from his cigarette, “I know it’s enough to keep my wife away from me.” You smiled back at him when he did, but still a pang of hurt went through you: you’d give up everything just to have him say ‘I’m so proud of you sweetheart’. Just once.

***

“Come on,” he whispered. You looked up. “Come on,” he repeated, cigarette hanging from his lips, “let’s go upstairs.” “Why?” you asked, as you already started to follow him. Once inside the bedroom, he started undressing you with surprising tenderness. “Tommy,” you breathed, “look at me. What is it you want?” As a reply without words he gazed at your body, like he was drinking in very detail and getting drunk at the mere sight of it. “You and me, Tommy,” you said in between kisses, “remember it’s you and me. Fuck the rest of them. Fuck your family. Fuck the whole world. I love you and you love me. It’s you and me and nothing can ever come between us, right?” As he took off his own shirt, he gently pushed you down onto the bed.

“You and me, right Tommy?” you repeated, a little breathless as his head disappeared between your legs. “No,” he finally spoke, “you.”

*** Thomas Shelby had a long day of dealing with renegade family and dangerous enemies, so when he got back home, all he wanted was his wife and some peace and quiet.

“I cooked,” you said as you lingered against the doorpost. Tommy looked tired, worn-out, dead almost, with his head in his hands, “even told the cook to take the evening off,” you commented while your voice sounded flat. It was funny, because your emotions were all over the place, but your exterior just didn’t show any of it.

He slowly lifted his head, “You did, eh?” “Thought you might like it…” you fidgeted in spite of yourself. “I pay that cook for her to actually fucking cook,” he grumbled. “Fine,” you snapped, “I’ll feed it to the dog,” and you started to walk away. “Wait…” “What?” You didn’t even really turn around. Tommy sighed again and for a moment it was like he noticed the disappointment in your eyes, “What did you cook?” “Mint leaves. Your favourite.” And then a minor miracle took place and Tommy Shelby actually smiled a little.

***

“You were late today. I waited.” “I’m sorry.” “Are you?” “I am.” “Do you love me?” “Yes.” “Tell me.” “I do. Every day.” “Not with words…” “No, not with words.” “Tommy, tell me again.” ***

You were still half-asleep in Tommy’s arms. His eyes were closed and his breath was steady. Outside, the sun wasn’t up yet, but it wouldn’t take long now.

Next to you, there was a gun on the table. Tommy had just taught you how to shoot. He’d shown you over and over again, even though you’d protested. But he said you might need it one day. On the other side there were his cigarettes and whiskey. His medicine. His comfort. His eyes were closed and his breath was steady. But for how long? How long would it be until he’d die by his own gun, or get killed in some fight? Or met some other girl, prettier and smarter than you? As if he could read your insecurities, he shifted in his sleep and hugged you even closer to him. Thomas Shelby might not be perfect or a gentleman or eloquent when it came to expressing his love, but he did hold you at night.

***

“Tommy?” you shouted out through the house, “THOMAS!” “Fucking hell, woman,” his head appeared around the corner, “What is it?” Slightly embarrassed by your own volume, you said, “I can’t find the scissors.” “They’re in my desk somewhere,” he put on his cap and added, “I need to see a man about a horse. I’ll be back in ten minutes.” You made your way to the desk that was always so tidy and neat. So you did as any sensible woman would do and turned over everything in search of a pair of scissors. Nothing. Angrily you threw down a pile of papers. And that’s when you noticed it. One drawer hadn’t been opened at all. When you tried it, you found it locked. But you were a girl from Small Heath and no locked drawer could stop you. In less than twenty seconds you had managed to force the lock en slid the secret hiding place open. Inside there were more papers, neatly stacked and tied together with pieces of string in different piles. Breathlessly you took them from the drawer and examined them one by one. “Still looking for those scissors, eh?” a low voice grumbled in your ear and you practically jumped from fear. “For fuck’s sake, Thomas,” you mumbled as you tried to hide the papers you’d just found. Tommy was eyeing them already, but didn’t say a word.

So you went back through them, “These are the letters I wrote to you, when you were in France. I thought you threw away everything. Your medals, everything…” He didn’t reply. Tears sprang into your eyes as you examined the second pile, “And these are all my short stories. Did you cut them from the papers? Did you really keep them all?” You quickly went through them and they were all there, from the very first one ever published, “And these, my articles…”

Tommy cleared his throat once and cast his eyes down when you looked at him. Lastly there was a small box. When you opened it, you found, “The rose I wore, when we were kids. The one my brother stole…” And now you couldn’t find the words, “I hardly… I didn’t even know you… back then. Why?” Tommy grabbed his case and started searching for a cigarette. “Tommy,” you insisted, “I had no idea. Why did you keep all of these?” “It’s obvious, isn’t it?” he smirked lightly. You stared at the content of the secret drawer and decided that nothing was ever obvious when it came to Thomas Shelby. “Well?” you questioned. “I love you.”

*** Masterlist