#i'm also kind of fond of the green

[ilmhist]

anyway so I picked up Coral Island and now I have this lil guy he’s named after a tree and he likes to dye his hair to match the season.  he’s an urban sort at his core and he’s really struggling to tell his carrots from his cacti.  he’s doing his best.

[batsplat]

Casey Stoner, Pushing the Limits

GP11:

GP12:

x

[ballinandcantgetup452]

I'm really fond of Billy Batson being like the 4th or 5th superhero to debut. Like, he pops up RIGHT after the trinity pops up. I think it's a prime chance to see essentially a newly reborn DCU through a child's eyes. Not in like the New Frontier "Wow! Look at all of these guys!" way (not to knock that, it's still great when moments like that do happen). But in the "everybody is green enough that the idea that this grown man is acting like an 11 year old is extremely suspect" kind of way.

Every member of the trinity has generally the same reaction.

Clark is much more of a "this is the only other person who will TALK to me... BUT he's also probably autistic". Where he's cordial and kind to Billy but also keeps his distance. He's a country bumpkin, and as an autistic person who's ALSO a country bumpkin, I can bet that he'd use the signature "be kind at a distance and let him work it out himself" strategy that I most often see used. Not to say that Clark is going to be a jerk about it. He just knows that he's not qualified to help and since he's an adult he can take care of himself.

Bruce ALSO assumes that Billy is autistic. Especially since the first time he even MEETS Captain Marvel is when he's interrupted on a stakeout. I always envisioned a Year 2 Bruce not being cruel to strangers, but also not being nice either. He just kind of ignores him until eventually he calls Captain Marvel over to whatever he's doing and explains what's going on. Bruce is the kindest to Billy, even if it's not as overt as Clark's.

On theme, Diana ALSO assumes that Billy is autistic after meeting him. Of course, she assumes that after somebody explains the concept of autism to her after explaining how something's just off with "that guy". She's not fond of the fact that some asshole is using the power of old gods, but lets it slide because she doesn't know how to confront that and can tell that the conversation and confrontation with him simply isn't worth it. She's a whole lot more proper and Billy finds her nice and all, but a little bit too grown up for his taste.

Billy isn't a founding member or anything, but once he is indicted, each member of the trinity keeps an eye out on him. Batman doesn't find out that Billy is a LITERAL child until he's a couple of years in with Dick. So he just keeps the lie going. It's easier to tell somebody "he's autistic" instead of "he's a 12 year old swapping bodies with an adult deity"

Any other potential headcanons that can come with Billy Batson becoming the 4th or 5th or just a really early superhero?

[maxlarens]

Hi ! As a pescatarian girly and as someone who has recently started to like Lando, I kept thinking about him with pescatarian!reader, because you know opposites attracts and also it made me think of the olive theory from 'How I met your mother', can be fic or smau

(also I'm the anon who requested the Charles fic and I was wondering if you gave names or emojis to your anons 🤔)

ahhh hi😇😇 thank u sm for sending another ask in. verrryy into this! ive never watched himym but i HAVE heard of the olive theory and genuinely think it can be so true. i also think like sharing food/giving certain parts of ur meal to ur partner is so sweet so i loved this a lot🥺🥺

also, tbh i have never had a consistent enough anon to name them/give them an emoji so i would loveee LOVE to do that🙏🏻 pls let me know what i should call u❤️ (and if anyone wants to be a regular/semi-regular anon and give themselves an emoji/name pls do!!!) ANYWAY alright i hope u enjoy— it’s a just a short ficlet 😌💖

LN: quid pro quo

pairing(s): lando norris x reader [read on ao3]

word count: 1.2k

“Eugh,” Lando says, feigning a gag as he looks at the plate of food set in front of you, “That’s disgusting. I don’t understand how you can put that in your mouth.”

Slowly, you raise an eyebrow at him, looking between your plate and Lando’s screwed-up expression; you point at your food, “Salmon? You think salmon is disgusting? Are you joking right now?”

He shakes his head fervently, a grimace still stuck on his face, “It’s gross.”

A laugh, loud and guffawing erupts from your mouth as you realise he’s being entirely serious. He’s fixated on your meal, frowning as if the fish has severely insulted him in some way. Quickly, you clap your hand over your mouth, concerned you’ll offend him if you keep laughing like that. This is one of a handful of dates you’ve been on together— clearly the first you’ve ordered seafood on— and you’re still trying to make a good impression on Lando.

“Wait,” you collect yourself, breathing deeply so you don’t fall into a fit of giggles again, “You’re not allergic are you?”

“No,” he shrugs, “I just hate fish. You’ve never heard that?”

You snort a little indelicately, already going back to eating your salmon, “‘You’ve never heard that?’,” you tease, “Do you think I stalk you on the internet, Norris?”

He grins that small sheepish grin you like so much as a light blush blooms on his cheeks. You’re very fond of him really. He’s cute in a scrappy kind of way; he’s funny and charming, a little bit dumb sometimes; and he’s into you, which is always a bonus. You’re not together— not quite— just seeing each other when you both have time, but it’s been going very nicely if you do say so yourself.

You like him.

He likes you.

Lando rolls his eyes, and purses his lips in an attempt not to let you see the smile that he’s trying to hide, “Don’t you? Stalk me on the internet?”

“Never,” you answer resolutely, thinking blatantly of that night after you’d first met him when you fell down a rabbit hole, spending a good hour watching thirst traps of him on Instagram before coming to your senses, “Not once.”

He hums, unconvinced, “Alright.”

Alright. You make a face, almost stick your tongue out at him but think better of it at the last second. He laughs— giggles— at you. You look away from him, down at your plate, trying to hide the smile that spreads and spreads behind your hair. God, you like him. You’re trying not to let it get away from you. You get the impression that he’s not huge on relationships, and you’re trying hard to be casual about him. It’s difficult— mostly because everything feels so easy when you’re together.

“So,” you start as you push a forkful of salmon and leafy greens around your plate, “Hate to break it to you, but I’m a pescetarian.”

“Um,” Lando asks around a mouthful of half-chewed food, “What’s that mean?”

You stifle a laugh, “Like a vegetarian, but I eat seafood.”

He swallows and makes another face, similar to the earlier one. You can see this is hard for him to process, he clearly dislikes seafood to a degree that you hadn’t quite understood until now. It’s funny. It’s another thing to add to the growing list of reasons you fancy Lando Norris. Though you would think that as a pescetarian you’d want him to like fish, but you suppose by not eating them he’s just saving all the sea animals that you’re not— quid pro quo.

“What about, like,” he waves his fork around, evidently still wondering why you’d eat seafood voluntarily, “just being a vegetarian?”

You shrug, “Vegetables are boring.”

“Right. Better than eating fish though.”

“I like fish.”

He shakes his head, “I don’t get it… It’s— they’re slimy and they smell and they’ve got fucking beady little eyes. It’s not natural.”

“Okay,” you laugh brightly at his despondent expression, “I do need to eat them, unfortunately. Otherwise, I’d probably die of malnutrition, or I dunno, scurvy.”

He groans, hanging his head so that all you can see of his face is that mop of brown curls. You think of your second date when you’d kissed him for the first time in your stairwell and how you’d threaded a hand into it— and they were soft and not heavy with product the way that you hate. The way he’d smelt like expensive cologne and tasted both smokey and sugary at the same time, just like the whiskey and cokes he’d been having at the bar. There’s a soft smile playing at your lips when he finally looks up.

“Does it bother you?” you ask, “That I eat fish.”

He shrugs, shakes his head in a non-committal way that could be either answer and does that little grin again. The one that means he’s going to say something that you’ll find either unbearably cute or embarrassingly funny.

“Yes,” he says, grin not subsiding, “How am I supposed to kiss you when you’ve got fish breath.”

Your eyebrows shoot up and a shocked laugh bubbles from your mouth, you try to ignore the stirring feeling in your gut at the words how am I supposed to kiss you in favour of responding to his lack of tact Try, being the keyword there. It somersaults in your head, how am I supposed to kiss you he said, like he was thinking of doing it again. Which, okay, of course, he’s thinking of doing it again. You understand what this is— but there was an unmistakable fondness there that you just can't shake.

Anyway, you push thoughts of kissing him aside, he’d still accused you of having fish breath, “Wow,” you say dryly, with no malice at all as much as you try to feign it, “You say that to all the girls?”

He blushes, his tan cheeks turning a very pleasant red as he properly realises what he’d said, “Shit. No— oh my god— I’m sorry. I just meant—”

You wave him off, laughing, “I know what you meant. You’re good, Lando.”

“Phew,” he lets out a breath of relief, his nervous laughter punctuating the air between you, without meaning to he says, “God, I thought I’d just fucked it.”

You furrow your brows and frown, confused, “No. You couldn’t.”

You watch him scrub a hand over his face, embarrassed, before it falls away and he gives you a sheepish little grin that says he’s happy to hear that. Toothy, eyes squinted and carving dimples into his cheeks. Your face feels warm and you smile back, biting your bottom lip on the smile so it doesn’t grow and grow to cover your whole face.

Later, after you’ve finished lunch and spent too much time talking over a too-sticky table in your favourite pub, Lando kisses you up against a tree in the park by your apartment. You put your hand in his soft curls and you smell cologne and taste what he’s been drinking as he presses his tongue into yours. The coarse hair of his moustache brushes against your lips and you kiss back with equal gusto. You pull away when it feels like you two are veering into too inappropriate territory for this public park. He chases you, but you laugh softly, pressing a perfunctory closed-mouth kiss to the corner of his mouth. He groans, laughs, and puts his forehead against yours.

You hum, “I guess my fish breath doesn’t bother you so much, huh.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, “You’re never going to let that go are you.”

You shake your head ever so slightly, “Not as long as I live, Norris.”

[hiraya-rawr]

— oh and by the way im married (zhongli) .

synopsis !! zhongli neglects to inform his friends that he's married.

contains !! they/them reader but referred to as wife, comedic dialogue

Z H O N G L I

Perhaps it's the fact that you've been married for centuries that informing others didn't seem to be a priority for Zhongli.

It wasn't obvious either. He had his day job and you had yours. To regular couples, the amount of distance you two spend would be a little strange, but time is something you have in abundance so it didn't really matter when you spend a few days apart doing your day jobs.

It was Hutao who brought it up the on the evening's Lantern Rite dinner.

"Aiyaya, it seems like everybody alive and dead has a date for this year's lantern rite."

"Hahaha! And here we are celebrating a feast with new and old friends. It doesn't sound like much of a loss to me." Venti laugjs, pouring himself a drink that threatens to overflow from his hand.

"I'm not saying it's a loss, I'm simply wondering wouldn't some of you want to spend the night with a special someone?" She smirks, eyes scanning the group. Chongyun coughs into his cup as Xiao averts his gaze from the troublemaker.

"If you're asking for my opinion, I'd say everyone here is quite special to me," Lumine smiles warmly before glancing at the two archons and yaksha, "I'm sure there's still time for dating in the future. We're not that old."

"Well. . ." Hutao turns to Zhongli. He raises a brow, placing down his cup.

"May I ask why you're staring at me, Director Hu?"

"No reason~ It's just, as your boss, of course I'm a little bit concerned. Aren't you wasting your youth by not going out on dates, mister Zhongli? I'm sure there's a line of Liyuens who would love to–"

A burst of laughter comes from the green bard. "Oh, him? On a Lantern Rite date with someone else? (Name) would surely kill him."

"(Name)?" Everyone questions.

"Huh? He didn't tell you?" Venti tilts his head.

Zhongli coughs, "Ah. . . Please don't be concerned about my dating life, Director Hu. After all, I am already married."

Silence.

A cup drops.

Tea spills (literally).

Then,

"Married?!" The restaurant shakes as Hutao and Lumine jolt upright, hands slamming the table.

"Married." Zhongli confirms.

"What! For how long? When? What's their name? Why have you never–"

Zhongli hushes, trying to calm his boss from jumping over the table. His face dusts a light pink, perhaps embarrassed by the whole ordeal.

"For a few. . . years now. As you know, they're (Name). And as for why I never mentioned my wife. . ." He glances at the crowd, ". . . I simply forgot."

"You. . . forgot," Xingqiu slowly repeats.

"Yes, it seems I've forgotten to inform everyone. Then again, is it not obvious that I'm a married man?"

Chongyun covers his face in his hands, processing the whole ordeal, "Thinking back. . . mister Zhongli always had a domestic kind of aura. It seems so obvious now."

"Wait, wait, wait! How come I didn't know about this? We work together almost everyday! And why does Venti know! Didn't you two just met! Do you even have a ring?" Hutao interjects, flabbergasted as Zhongli and Venti freezes.

In truth, he does have a ring. One he carved himself made of only the most precious of jade and metal. It has rested under his glove for centuries—

Under his glove also hides his draconic arms, golden veins against dark brown, almost scale-like skin. Proof of a entity greater than human.

"Ehe. . . about that," Venti nervously looks away, "I've actually. . . met his wife before!" He covers up, voice laced with enthusiasm.

"Yes, yes, my wife is quite fond of Mondstadt's songs. They've frequently visited the nation before."

"And you don't come along?" Xiangling asks.

"I don't."

The group blinks.

"And what about the ring? I never see you wear a wedding ring." Hutao narrows her eyes.

"That's because I don't wear it." He answers bluntly.

". . . and you never introduced them to us because. . .?" Lumine questions.

"Because . . . I haven't had the time to?"

Hutao rests back on her chair, her eyes glazed in judgment, "No offense mister Zhongli, but you seem like a terrible husband. If you don't get your act straight, I'd say your marriage won't last."

His jaw drops. Venti laughs.

|| ko-fi support / character m.list ||

~ bonus ~

"Darling, am I a terrible husband?"

"No? What makes you think that?"

"No reason. Although I believe we should try dating publicly."

tumblr has been deleting my last paragraphs why

//for some reason tumblr has been deleting my last lines in drafts so i have to type this so my last sentences wont get deleted

"No reason. But perhaps it's about time I show you off to the public more."

ko-fi support | character m.list

[tadpolesonalgae]

Sugar Daddy Azriel - drabble?

a/n: so, I have one or two requests in my inbox relating to this sort of dynamic--one I've never written before--so we're doing a test run with Azzie (since obviously they're all feysand-related)

Also I haven’t proofread this so apologies

warnings: uhhh dom/sub dynamics, sugar baby/sugar daddy-ish vibes, no use of Daddy but occasional use of Sir, oral (m receiving), I think we're getting bit of soft Dom Az in this, reader is a reader

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

You jolt in surprise when you find him sat at the edge of your large bed, one he'd had made especially to accommodate him and his wingspan. "Evening, pretty lady," Azriel drawls, a playful smirk curving his mouth as hazel eyes trail your form.

You're wrapped in a red, blue, white, and dark green, horizontally-striped jumper that comes down to the tops of your thighs. It's baggy and has a wide neckline, showing off the line of your collar bones as it sits at the edge of your shoulders. Beneath are a pair of soft, navy shorts that only peek out from the hem of the jumper when you lift your arms a significant height, feet clad in thick socks that rise halfway up your calves, full and fluffy, and partially concealed by the chunky dark-blue slippers he'd bought you last solecist.

"Azriel?" You question, smiling despite knowing how odd it is that this is your kind of relationship - with him just appearing at intervals inside your home. Often with Things in tow. "What are you doing here?" You already know what he's doing here, or can at least guess from the black paper bag leaning against his side, printed with that distinctive white and gold monogram on the parchment.

Sure enough his hazel eyes glint, inclining his chin. "I think you know what."

"Mhmm? You got me something?"

"Maybe. Come closer. You can find out."

Your smile widens with fondness as you make your way across the rug you'd had imported from the continent, pausing between his long legs, a shiver of pleasure purring up your spine as he lays his broad palms around your waist, squeezing lightly with his thumbs as they stroke your sides. "Want to take a look, pretty thing?"

"Hmm? No viewing fee?"

"I'm feeling generous."

"Mhmm. Not at all keeping the mischief for later, no sir." He huffs a laugh, before nodding to the bag. "Just take a look."

Inquisitively you slide your fingers between the two trifolds, spreading them to peer inside. Your brows narrow, spotting the thick width of a book, but when you reach to pull it out a cool shadows slinks around your wrist, and he tuts. "I don't think I said you could touch, did I?" A smile curves your mouth, eyes bright and twinkling as you retract from the bag, turning your attention rightfully to him. "And what do I have to do to get my hands on it, sir?"

He scoffs. "You've done this more than a dozen times for me. You know what to do."

"But I want you to tell me," you murmur, lips still curved as heat simmers between your thighs. Azriel's mouth quirks to reflect your pleased expression, hand sliding upward. "Yeah? You want me to give you some orders to follow?" His thick fingers hold your throat carefully, flexing once so you can feel as he lays each digit to your skin. "On your knees, pretty thing."

"There's the Dom I know and love," you whisper against his mouth, before settling into position between his legs. Azriel chuckles softly, "you want a Dom tonight? Have you been good?"

"Perfect," you murmur, fingers already greedily untying the laces of his leathers. "I've been the best."

"The best?"

"Mhmm."

"Have you touched yourself?" You shake your head, halting once you've got his laces out of the way, waiting for the instructions. "Have you wanted to?" You nod, enjoying the heat of arousal that flushes your skin. Azriel raises a brow, his fingers stroking over your hair before lightly taking a section in his fist. "What were you doing when thinking about it?"

"Reading..."

He smirks. "Of course you were."

Arousal intensifies, but you continue to wait patiently, adhering to the unspoken rules. Azriel parts his thighs, lightly tugging on your hair to tilt your face upward. "Tell me why you wanted to touch yourself, pretty thing." You flush, teeth dragging over your lower lip before answering. "There was a scene, sir..." Azriel quirks a brow, a hint of a smirk at the corner of his lovely mouth. "A scene?" You nod your head, glancing briefly between his legs, un-wanting and unwilling to hide your hunger. "Eyes up here," he warns, bringing your gaze to his, "what scene?"

"I wanted to watch you read it," you admit, "to share it with you..."

"How sweet of you," he drawls.

"I thought you might like the ropes..."

Azriel chuckles, the deep noise licking between your thighs that you squeeze together. "My smart little reader's been nosing at some dirty things, hasn't she?"

"You'll like them, too," you argue playfully.

"Oh, filthy then."

You flush deeply, silently begging for him to give you the okay. His mouth curves and stark relief floods your system. "Open." He orders, and your lips part on command. His answering smirk would have had your underwear dropping to the floor had you been standing. "Be good," he goads, shadows pulling himself free as he carefully wraps your hair around his fist--for guidance.

You tighten around nothing as he pulls you forward, tapping his leaking tip against your lower lip teasingly, smearing the precum that had gathered there in a glossy mess, liking how it gleams on your mouth before slowly feeding you his cock. Moans are already aching to spill from your throat, but you have the feeling even if you allowed yourself to his cock would muffle them significantly. He's so big.

"There you go. Good girl," he praises, dragging you back by your hair, groaning when your tongue flicks out to deliver a small lick to a spot just at the underside oh his head. "Wicked girl," he amends, the groan hungry and guttural and not helping the gathering wetness in your underwear.

Azriel's mouth curves when he pushes you back down to his base, gently guiding your movements: up...and down...up...and down. "So filthy beneath that pretty exterior, aren't you?" He huffs a laugh that tails into a groan when you do something hot with your tongue. "Fuck. Not a single soul would look at my lovely little reader and think she'd be like this. So sweet on your outside, aren't you?"

Sweet on the inside, too, your eyes say when you suckle his tip, lapping up the leaking precum eagerly. Azriel grits his teeth, his breathing deepening and a flush colouring his cheeks...one that makes you want give him more. He twitches in your mouth, and you take him down your throat eagerly, an arm curving beneath his thigh to place your hand on his hip, wanting to touch more of him.

His wings shift on the bed, flaring wide then tucking in tight, his grip tightening in your hair as he bucks his hips, knowing you can take it. Scarred fingers graze your scalp, thumb stroking across your hair encouragingly, sensing the peak isn't far off now. "Gods, so sweet and filthy. And mine." He laughs when you whimper onto the thick length of his cock. "Yeah? You're all mine, aren't you? My lovely, sweet, thing."

You practically purr when he releases in your mouth, tongue swirling and mixing with his cum, a thrum of biological satisfaction shimmering through your body with sheer pleasure. He pulls tentatively at your hair, asking you to pull away, and you happily obey, keeping your mouth open and sliding your eyes shut as he finishes on your face. A growl rumbles from the back of his throat, panting with flushed skin as he looks down at you, thumb swiping at some of the milky liquid, chuckling when you lift from the ground to take it into your mouth, tongue eagerly licking over the pad.

He pulls you to straddle his lap, and you shiver as he kisses your face, cleaning you up of the mess he's made, occasionally gathering more on his fingers and letting you feed from it.

"Was I good, Azzie?" You murmur, arms wrapping around his broad shoulders--shoulders you've been thrown over more than a few times--curving your spine so your breasts push into his chest, soft and full. "So good, pretty thing," he whispers, lips curving as he plies the hem of your striped jumper down one side of your arm so he can lick and suck marks into you, trailing his way up to a space below your jaw, beneath your ear. "I think you earned yourself something extra."

"Something extra...?" His hand slides from your waist to your ass, pulling away lightly to glance down at your bare thighs, "are you even wearing shorts?"

"They've ridden up my legs," you argue, pulling the hem of your jumper higher to show the navy cloth. "I wouldn't have minded..." he drawls, hazel eyes flicking to yours as his hand slides beneath their waistband, squeezing your ass appreciatively, making you squeal and curve into him, laughing. "You're the filthy one, Az. Not me."

"Mhmm? So you weren't reading those books before you fell in with me?"

"I was..." you reply primly. Your thighs part wider, able to feel him against your centre. "I couldn't let you do all the corrupting."

"Uh-huh. Well, maybe what's in the bag will help with that."

"Can I touch now?" You smirk, clearly taunting him. Azriel grins, his eyes glinting. "Keep up with that attitude," he goads. "I'm sure it will land you in a good place."

You roll your hips to his. "Underneath you?"

"Keep it up and you'll find out." He lands a hard spank to your ass, smirking when you gasp, before nodding to the bag. "Take a look, princess."

You flush at the pet name, pulling the bag between you and pulling free the book. Your eyes nearly shoot out of your head, cheeks ablaze as you scan the bespoke design--the gold-threaded title catching your attention almost immediately. It's the dirtiest (and favourite) book you've ever read. You splutter, staring at him. "Wh- How?"

"Spymaster perks."

"That doesn't answer anything!" He smirks when you shoot him a suspicious glance. "Alright," he relents, "Helion has particular connections."

You shake your head. "That still doesn't answer anything."

Azriel smiles faintly. "Do you like it, though?"

That certainly gets you grinning, holding the thick book in your hands, tilting it back and forth so the thread catches in the light, glinting decadently. "Of course I like it," you mumble, flipping the book to trail your fingers admiringly down the ridges of the spine. "I love it." You glance up, meeting softened hazel eyes. "That's why you got it though, isn't it."

"Maybe I like seeing you contented."

"Maybe I like seeing you coming."

Azriel chokes on a laugh, large palm sliding beneath your jumper to stroke across the bare expanse of your back, hand shifting so his fingers wrap around your ribs, grazing the underside of your breast. "Maybe the feeling's mutual," he murmurs over your lips, and you feel yourself beginning to melt as his mouth slants over your own, his taste still prominent in both of you.

When he pulls away, he pushes hair from your cheek that had fallen from its place behind your ear. Your heart skips, and then you're opening the book, swiftly scanning the pages until you find the right passage. "As a thank you from me, and a reward from you..." You flip the book around, pointing to the section. "Can we try this, next?"

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

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[zepskies]

This is more of a Sam and Dean request than a reader and Dean request but what about Sam having a crush on Dean's gf? How would he react to that, I am honestly CRAVING angst and this is the angstiest, is that a word, thing I could think of, I am so sorry if you don't like angst or this makes you uncomfortable!!!

Oh my God. You killed me with this one, hun. 😫😫 I have another SB imagine coming next week, but I thought I'd put out this one for Dean to break it up a bit.

Pairing: Dean W. x Reader, one-sided Sam W. x Reader Word Count: 1,500

Imagine: You are Dean's one exception.

Sam knows it's wrong.

You're smart, with a degree in history that aids them well on hunts.

You're sharp, with a smart mouth that rivals Dean's (and keeps him on his toes).

But you're also kind. You take care of him and Dean with all the feminine grace and care they've never had in their lives.

Sam realizes it when he's up until 3 a.m. in the bunker's War Room. He's sat at the table, researching, eyes bleary, hands cramping from turning pages. And he finds a mug of hot tea sliding next to his idle hand on the table.

You're there with a smile and a hand on his shoulder. "Workin' hard or hardly working?"

Sam clears his throat and nods, chuckles a little. "I'm good." He eyes the mug. "Thanks, though I might need something stronger."

You eye him with gentle reproach. "Nope. Green tea is better for you this late at night. You really should go to sleep, Sam."

Sam tacitly agrees, but only because he can feel the warmth of your hand through his clothing, and it makes his face warmer than the tea. He watches you walk away, notices the curve of your ass in those little shorts. He can imagine your warm hands on his body, caressing him. He can imagine letting his lips graze your skin, exploring you, then devouring you.

And that's when his thoughts stutter to a halt. Sam inwardly cringes.

Despite his sleep-deprived brain, he's reminded that you're traveling down the hall to the room you share with his brother, and for Sam, it's nothing short of torture.

Because he realizes then that he isn't just fond of you. He doesn't love you like an older brother, or even a quasi-brother-in-law. He wants you.

Again, Sam knows it's wrong...but he can't help it. It's one of the saddest cliches in the fucking book. You're his brother's girl, and he wants you for himself.

And it's getting harder to hide it from Dean. They know each other too well -- a result of having no one but each other, but more practically, having lived in such close quarters for so long before they discovered the bunker.

When Sam gets hurt on a hunt, the cut is at a bad angle. He can't quite reach, so you dutifully come around and gently move his hand out of the way to do the stitch yourself. You tsk at him in playful disappointment. "I swear, it's a wonder you and Dean aren't walking patchwork quilts at this point."

Sam chuckles through his nose, wincing when the movement pulls on the stitch. You shoot him a stern look. "Stop moving."

"You're the one making me laugh!" he says, smiling incredulously.

"I don't accept excuses," you retort. "Keep still, please."

"Yes, ma'am," Sam says, his breath hitching for a different reason as he feels your soft hands along his side. He plays it off as pain. "Sorry," you murmur more sincerely. He tells you it's okay. His gaze flicks up, unconsciously finding Dean's face across the room.

He's just finished cleaning a cut on his hand. But he's been watching; Sam can tell. Dean's too perceptive not to notice Sam's discomfort. He probably even knows why. Sam can see a glint of it in Dean's eyes, the stoic front of his face.

"There we go!" you say in satisfaction, and you pat Sam's bare arm. He gives you a wan smile. "Thanks."

"You done, sweetheart?" Dean asks. You get up from your seat by Sam. "What do you need?" you ask.

"You. Come 'ere," he says with a smile, giving you a beckoning finger. "I felt that knot on the back of your head earlier. Think you're slick?"

You huff, but you also smile, in the way you only do for Dean. Sam watches you get up and go to Dean, who touches your cheek, stroking with a thumb first. Then he parts your hair to inspect the back of your head, and you wince a bit. You did fall pretty hard, now that Sam thinks of it. He frowns.

Dean lets out a deep breath. "You've got a nasty bump. You're taking it easy tonight, got it?"

"Yeah? Gonna help me relax?" you whisper. But Sam still hears you, because apparently no one taught you how the hell to whisper.

Dean smirks. "Watch it. I'll think you're flirting with me."

You give him a coy smile as your hand travels up his chest, between the open edges of his plaid shirt, then all the way down, to tease at his belt. "Believe me, when I do, you'll be the first one to know."

Dean's smirk deepens, but his eyes are softer. He closes a hand around yours and brings it to his lips. You lean up and request, wordlessly, for a kiss. Dean obliges you, capturing your lips with a soft kiss.

He eventually breaks from you, only to press his lips to your forehead next, closing his eyes with a sigh. He doesn't like it when you try to hide your injuries from him. You just don't want him to worry so much.

You smile and rest against his chest afterwards. It's clear as day what your heart holds.

It's hard for Sam to watch. His throat constricts, but he takes pains to avert his gaze.

He's so full to the brim with this that he sees no other recourse. He catches Dean alone in the kitchen and tries to make a confession. "Dean, we need to talk."

"Can it wait 'til I'm done?" Dean's plating up some stovetop mac and cheese -- your favorite.

"You're done cooking," Sam points out. Dean looks up at him. "We're doing a little dinner in bed situation. I made her promise to take it easy."

Sam admires the way Dean takes care of you. He really does. But it's also like a small oyster knife twisting in his gut. "Good. I'm glad," is all he says. "Yeah, we can talk later."

"Later" doesn't come for a long time. Weeks, in fact. But every time he tries to broach the problem, Dean finds a way to wiggle out of having the conversation. Always a distraction. A hunt. A fire you almost started in the kitchen. Being "in the middle" of something -- something in the bedroom that you insist needs Dean's immediate attention. Sam gives up for a while after that.

But Winchesters are nothing if not goddamn stubborn. Sam finally catches Dean alone in his room for once. You've gone to the grocery store, leaving the brothers alone in the bunker, but not for long, so Sam needs this chance.

"Dean, can we talk?"

Dean looks up at his brother from where he sits on the edge of his bed. He taps his knee, releases a breath. They both know what this is.

"Are you gonna do more than talk?" Dean asks. It's not what Sam expects. "What?"

"Whatever's on your mind, are you ever gonna do something about it?" Dean asks.

Sam stares back at his brother. He thinks. Hard. He's flipped back and forth for months. If he tells you how he feels, it's over. Things will never be the same between the three of you. It'll confuse you. It might even hurt you. It'll hurt Dean. Sam loves you both, if in very different ways.

So Sam is a bit deflated when he raises his resigned gaze and meets his brother's. "No."

After a moment, Dean nods. "Then we've got nothing to talk about."

But... Sam wants not to want you. Not to love you. Deep, deep down, a large chunk of him feels that he shouldn't have to hide himself. That you have a right to know the depths of what he feels, and what he feels for you.

"I see you're not convinced," Dean says dryly. Sam is silent, until Dean sighs and beckons him over. Sam obliges and sits down next to his older brother, the man he's looked up to (at least metaphorically) his whole life.

"I'd give my life for you. You know that. Right, Sammy?" Dean says. "If I couldn't tear the world apart, I'd lay myself out flat."

Sam sighs. "Dean..." Of fucking course he knows that. Dean already had given his life for him once. Remembering that only adds to Sam's guilt.

Dean meets Sam's gaze directly then. "But this is where I draw the line. She's my line," he says. His face is almost stoic, but his eyes are filled with unyielding fire. "I'm not layin' down on that. Not for you. Not for anyone."

Sam's heart clenches with every kind of pain, but he's also never respected his brother more. He nods. "I get it."

"No, you really fucking don't," Dean says. He's more than serious. "I mean it, Sam. I'll break your damn nose."

After a long moment, Sam nods. He knew Dean loved you. Of course he did. But this is the first time Sam truly understands how deeply. How completely. It's more than jealousy can fathom.

Sam realizes then that he lost, even before he began.

AN: Whew! 😮‍💨 I got way deeper into this than I expected to. Poor Sam. 😭 But I hope this scratched your angsty itch, my dear!

Read the Sequel

Here's the requested sequel to this: Sam crosses the line.

Also, if you want to read the reverse of this (Dean is in love with Sam's girlfriend): Dean gives you an impossible choice.

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[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

On Muddied Stones

Part Three of this pirate!au. Stubborn, self-sacrificing love because sometimes we don't realize what's best for the people you love is you. 18+ warning, beginnings of smut that gets cut off, MDNI. Angst and a bit of a cliffhanger. ~2.5k words

Your husband guides you into the store, smiling easily as he leads you towards a mannequin, "Welcome to Vixen's. Mari is the best at what she does."

You tilt your head curiously, "And pirates would know which seamstresses are the best?"

He laughs a little, "She is the best designer, treasure, you'll see," and he lowers his voice to lean down and whisper, "But she's also the best weapons smuggler on this coast."

"Oh," you murmur, surprise pitching in your voice.

He grins widely at you and pulls your hand up to kiss your fingers, "Pick out anything you want, love, I'll be right back." You watch quietly for a moment as he steps away and disappears behind a curtain leading to the back of the store.

You start to busy yourself by picking over materials and colors of the displayed clothes, eventually settling on a dark gray, cotton cloak with a hood. It will suit the purpose of blending in with a crowd. You fidget with the material between your fingers, lost in thought.

"Is that all you picked?" Jason's voice draws you to attention and your gaze flicks to his.

"It's all I needed," You tell him, eyes trailing to the women gracefully walking out from behind the curtain. She gives you a knowing smile and a wave.

"Ah, I figured as much. Mari will have some things sent to the ship for you," he says idly, taking the cloak from your hands.

"Things?" You question, "But I don't need–"

"You do need, my love," Jason cuts in, gently pulling the cloak around your shoulders and fastening the clasp. "I took you to my ship with nothing but the clothes on your back. Allow me to remedy that, and have things of your own brought to our cabin."

He leans forward and presses a kiss to the crown on your head, then draws the hood up, voice fond, "A perfect fit. Do you like it?"

"I do, thank you," you answer softly, and you find yourself leaning into his touch.

"Good, I'm glad you approve, darling," Jason says, tracing his thumb over your cheek affectionately, "I would keep you like this forever, if I could, but I believe we have more things on your list to buy."

"Don't we have to pay?" You ask, eyes darting over to Mari, who offers you a sly smile and a wink.

"All taken care of," Jason answers, nodding to Mari as he takes your hand, leading you back out onto the streets. "Shall we get your hair pins next, my love?"

"I– yes," You mumble, reeling slightly at how sweet this is. How much of your husband you still recognize in the man most people fear. It makes guilt coil in your stomach, at the thought that you've been planning to leave. But how much can a few weeks of kindness make up for years of separation?

He squeezes your hand, and leads you along to a stall with a variety of scarves and pins and handkerchiefs, "Here, treasure. Take your time."

You pick over the hair pins slowly, selecting three. A simple, glossy black pin. A shiny silver pin, dotted with glistening red gems. And pin engraved with a golden snake, its eyes made of piercing green emeralds.

"And this one," your husband says, holding up a pin with a rose etched from silver.

You falter, "Our gardens had roses. You planted them after we got married."

"Aye, I remember," he says fondly, and carefully sets the pin in your hair. He nods in approval and digs a few coins out of his leather pouch, dropping it in the vendor's hand, all without taking his eyes from you, "You look beautiful."

He steps closer to you, guides you to his body with his hands on your hips, "So beautiful. I always remembered you in our garden. Surrounded by flowers, petals in your hair. I'd imagine children running past your skirts, a babe in your arms. And your laughter. Always you smiling." He's rambling, his voice gentle as he leans down to press a kiss to your shoulder.

You exhale shakily at the thought of children, "It's a shame we can't have a garden on the ship."

He laughs and nuzzles your throat for a moment before pulling back, "Mm. Yes, treasure, a shame. I could build you a new garden, a little place to keep your flowers. Would you like that?"

You blink at him, and the pins in your pocket feel heavy. You're keenly aware of the rose in your hair. You feel your voice come out unsteady, because you've always been able to see that life with him, "What about your ship and crew?"

He lifts your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles, "My ship will be fine. My crew is more than capable of keeping her afloat. And I've enough gold to keep us comfortable for the rest of our and our children's lives."

You're not exactly sure what to do with that, "I guess raising children on a pirate ship might not be the best environment," You murmur and your eyes fix on a merchant's caravan for a moment.

He laughs, his hand settling on the small of your back to lead you to the next stall, "We can have both love. A few weeks at sea, a few in your garden. There's nothing I wouldn't give you. Now, books next, darlin'? Something to fill your lovely head and the ship's library?"

"The ship has a library?" You ask curiously, wondering if you had missed it when you were exploring his ship.

"I'm having one built," he drawls, like it's nothing at all.

"You're- What? Where?" You stumble out, trying to figure where there could possibly be room on the ship for a library.

"In one of the storage rooms, treasure, it wasn't being used anyway. Ah, here we are," Jason nudges you towards a vendor with more books than you've ever seen, effectively ending your line of questioning, "Pick out whatever catches your eye. I'll be right back."

He presses a kiss to your cheek, and you watch as he lazily heads over to women selling baskets.

You hastily pick out the first book that looks interesting, and Jason raises an eyebrow at you when he strolls back to your side, "Only one book, love?"

"Just one is fine," You answer, reaching to take the basket.

He moves the basket from your reach, "Pick out a few more, darlin'. You're not being greedy. It'll be good to have something to do at sea, right?"

He watches you closely as you nod, and go to pick out two more books a little more carefully, "Good. Now pick out two more."

You frown, "This is enough."

"Two more, treasure," he says softly, reaching for the three books in your hands. He pulls them from you gently and sets them in the basket, "go on."

He hums in approval when you pick out two more novels, and he drops coins in the old vendor's hands. He takes the books from you, "Very good, love. What did you want next?"

"That was everything," You answer quietly.

He smiles brightly, "Then, there's a bakery I'd like to show you. They have croissants, love, with chocolate on the inside. But, first," he says, mischief glinting in his eyes as he leads you away from the marketplace, and into an empty alley.

He places the basket on the cobblestones and gently pushes your hood back, admiring your face as you watch him with confused eyes, "What are we doing, Jason?"

"This," he mumbles, pressing a firm kiss to your lips. It catches you off guard, and he kisses you again and again until you're both panting, "so perfect, my treasure." He trails kisses up to your ear, nipping at your skin, "so clever and lovely and sweet."

"Jason," You protest as he starts to lift your skirts. He hums softly, kissing your throat as he turns you around to face the wall, pressing his stiffening cock to your backside.

"Jason," You try again as he traces his fingers up your thighs, exploring and relearning what makes you shiver.

"You're trembling," he notes, pressing more kisses along your neck, "Don't worry, love, I've got you."

"Someone could see," You mumble, eyes darting as you brace a hand against the wall, his weight behind you making you unsteady.

"Let them," he says simply, and the sound of his belt clinking makes you tense.

"Jason– wait, I–" You stumble out and he freezes, fingers stilling against your thighs and mouth leaving your skin, "I feel like a whore."

He makes a choked noise and drops your skirts, turning you back around with panic in his eyes, "Love, no, I would never– the last thing I want in the world is to make you feel that way. You're my partner, not some wench," he says your name, strangled and pained, "I love you. I swear it. I wasn't planning to– this was the first secluded spot I could think of, treasure. All I ever think of is how much I want you by my side. This wasn't supposed to hurt you. I never want to hurt you."

"I'm not hurt," You mumble, embarrassment and unease settling in your stomach as you avoid his eyes.

"Love," he breathes out, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," You say quickly, adjusting your clothes and cloak, "I– this is what your life is, isn't it? Danger and thrills and all that comes with being a pirate."

He frowns, reaching for you, starts to say your name. "Will you take me to the pastry shop?" You cut him off instead.

He studies you, concern and apologies written clear on his face. He then nods slowly, and bends down to pick up the basket filled with your books, "This isn't– treasure, I've only ever been with you. You know that, right?"

You nod, "I know."

Jason doesn't quite look like he believes you, but offers you his hand hesitantly. You don't miss the way his shoulders drop in relief when you take it, "The bakery, then," he says gently, leading you slowly through the winding alleys and back onto the streets lined with stores.

"Jason," You call, pausing outside an expensive looking shop.

His gaze snaps to you immediately, voice eager yet careful, "Yes, love?"

You gesture to the store, "They sell rings."

His eyes light up and he steps closer to you, "You want me to buy you a ring, love?" He exhales softly when you nod, and he lifts your hand to kiss your wrist.

"Can I wait out here? With the books? I'd like to sit on the bench. And, ah, be surprised by what you pick," You say, drawing out your words.

"Of course, darling. Anything," he agrees easily, immediately guiding you to the bench and placing the basket next you. "I won't be long." He hesitates again, before bending down placing a tender kiss to your cheek.

You watch as he disappears into the store, and every fiber of your being knows this is your only chance. If you're ever going to leave, to let him go so both of you can move on, now is all you're ever going to get.

It makes you sick with guilt, thinking of the way he looks at you with adoration, but he's in love with a memory of the past. He should be focused on his future. He's a pirate lord now, and he has a full life, a new family, and new adventures where you don't fit.

To tie him to a life of flower-filled gardens when you've seen first hand how much he loves the salt and sea, is something you could never do.

You stand on shaky feet. You leave the basket of books on the bench, you take the hair pins. Jason will look for you. His crew will look for you. He might even think you've been kidnapped. So, you have to be clever. You've always been clever.

You force a practiced, perfect smile to your face, one you've worn for the past two years around Gotham's finest nobles. You approach a young woman, "Excuse me, Miss? I love your cloak, would you want to trade it for mine?"

She looks surprised, but when her eyes dart over you and lock on the insignia engraved on the fastening of your cloak, she seems much more interested, "Oh? That's– a cloak from Vixen's?" You nod innocently, and she smiles greedily, "yes, let's trade."

You both unpin your cloaks, and as you walk away, drawing the light gray material over your head, you hear her chirp about how naive people from outside Star City are, how they don't appreciate how hard it is to get any clothes by Mari.

You have to be fast. You've learned how to be fast, to disappear into crowded streets during the years Jason was gone. It's not long before you're standing in front of an elderly man ticking off items on a list. "Sir?"

He looks up at you kindly, but looks can be so deceiving. It's a risk you're willing to take, you decide, and force back the thoughts that it's unfair to be testing your husband in this way. You hadn't meant for it to become a test, but in a way, it is.

Lies spill easily from your tongue, "I heard your wagons are traveling to a village near my sister's home. Is it possible I could pay for passage to ride with you?"

He smiles at you, eyes still soft and kind, "of course, Miss. There's room. You're welcome to sit in the wagon," he offers you an aged, calloused hand, and you take it as he helps you into the wagon.

"Thank you," You murmur, grateful you didn't have to steep to bargaining with the hair pins just yet.

He nods, voice soft and knowing, "We'll be leaving in just a moment, Miss," he draws the canvas of the wagon closed, and you settle yourself between boxes and sacks of goods.

You busy yourself with picking at your sleeve as the caravan starts to move, the rumbling and shaking doing nothing to calm your nerves. You keep your head down, and wonder if he's even noticed you're gone.

The horses whine and cobblestones turn to dirt roads, the sounds of the city grow dull. You risk a glance out the wagon towards the port city. There's no smoke from fires, no screams or alarms raised.

It had been so easy. So painfully simple. And there's no way for him to track you down. No way for him to know if you're still in the city, on ship, or in a carriage. There's no trail for him to follow. No lighthouse that leads to you.

Tears start to spill down your face before you even realize you're crying. You tug your knees to your chest. You're heading inland, far from any ports where ships could chase you. If you went through enough towns, you'd be impossible to trace.

You could disappear almost entirely. And why would he look for you? Abandon his crew and the sea to find you?

It was for the best, you tell yourself as you muffle your tears into your traded cloak, for both you. It had to be done. You had to leave.

There was never any other choice for either of you, than to end the dying chapter.

Part Four | Even More Headcannons

[larissasgirl]

Green-eyed monster

My obsession with Larissa Weems is back, so you're getting a "You look beautiful with my lipstick all over you face" story 👀 I'm sorry if there's any mistakes, I did tried to reread as best as I could 👉👈

Larissa was not the jealous type, and even less the type to fall this quickly. She had devoted her life to her career, as keeping her students and staff safe was always her priority. She was the kind of person that would make an auditorium go silent as soon as she stepped a foot in it, the one who radiated confidence even through the worst crisis. And yet, she found herself in the corner of the gymnasium at the Rave’N, her arms crossed and her jaw clenched as she watched another teacher being way too close to you to her liking. 

Truth to be told, you had always fascinated Larissa. The first day she had interviewed you, she barely asked you any questions, as your answers were already everything she could wish for a first year teacher. When she had hired you, the smile you gave her right then would have made her knees go weak if she wasn’t sitting already. She had done everything in her power to see the same smile again through the years you had worked together, the kind of one that lights up the whole room and made her forget about the world around her. Her affection towards you slowly took another turn, as she began by popping up in your classroom to invite you for lunch, that slowly turned into dinner invitations to late nights drinking wine in her office when everybody had gone to their rooms. Truth to be told, she was head over heels in love with you, but she was too afraid to ruin your professional relationship, your friendship.

And as the Rave’N approached, she wished nothing more than invite you to attend the dance with her, but the fear of rejection paralyzed her. In her heart, she was praying you’d make the first step, but shook her head every time at such an absurd thought, as she was sure you didn’t feel the same way she did. 

And here she was, at a dance full of teenagers she was supposed to watch over, if only her eyes would be able to leave your figure. You had decided to wear a simple black dress that reached your feet, and Larissa forgot how to breathe when she had noticed the slit on your left side, exposing your leg everytime you’d take a step forward. She had also chuckled when she had noticed that you were wearing your typical Nike shoes, remembering that you hated heels from one of your late-night conversation in her office. Larissa uncrossed her arms to flatten the invisible wrinkles on her dress, an attempt to distract herself from the fire burning inside her stomach. She had opted for a golden dress that reached below her knees, the long sleeves covering her arms in a final attempt to remain professional. She had put thoughts into it, opting for something out of her regular style to impress you, but not daring to exceed the limit as she was still the principal. She huffed as she noticed you smiling at the other teacher, one she was truly never fond of considering her very obvious advances on you. Except you never seemed to notice, as you’d always smile back at her politely and keep up with whatever conversation she was trying to have with you. Larissa was not a jealous woman, but tonight, she was boiling inside. 

She finally decided she had enough and walked up to you, her heels echoing despite the loud music playing. You raised your eyes and met hers, smiling at her in a way you only did when you noticed her presence close to you, not bothering to listen to your coworker anymore. She seemed to realize something had caught your attention and she followed your gaze, seeing the principal making her way to you, quickly mumbling she’d see you later as the older woman finally reached you. You chucked, knowing how intimidating Larissa could be. But not with you. Never with you.

“Hi,” she beamed at you, placing herself in front of you. She noticed the way the dress hugged every curve of your body, as her eyes made their way to your exposed leg, making her bite her lip involuntarily. “You look marvelous tonight, darling,” she said, her eyes making their way back to yours, only to catch you doing the same, watching every inch of her body, your cheeks colored in a soft shade of pink at her words. You had noticed how she only used pet names with you, something that made your heart skip a beat every time, and tonight was no exception.

“Thank you,” you breathed out, an attempt to regulate your heartbeat at the compliment. “You look incredible Larissa,” the twinkle in your eyes not having gone unnoticed by the principal, who’s anger was immediately forgotten as her attention was solely on you. 

She smiled at you softly, her cheeks now matching the color of yours. You watched her in awe, fighting the urge to touch her, to reach for her hands, to have any kind of contact with her. She was truly the most beautiful woman you had ever seen. You always craved being near her, to a point where she clouded every thought you had. You had often wondered if her lips were as soft as they seemed. She was everything you had ever looked for in someone, intelligent, brave, kind, patient. You had wanted to ask her to the dance, and God knows you had tried. Every time you had faced her about to do so, you had choked on your words, changing topic as if nothing had happened. And defeated, you had decided to let it be. 

“They certainly did a good job,” she got you out of your head as she raised her hand to gesture to the room, where you noticed Wednesday doing a strange dance that made you chuckle. 

“They did, I’m so happy they’re finally having fun and getting a chance to unwind after all the craziness that happened,” you confessed, staring into her blue orbs once again.

“Are you having fun?” she questioned, taking a step forward to hear you better, the music blasting louder than before making it difficult to hear your voice. She wanted to hear your voice. 

“I am now that you’re here.” You tilted your head to the side. “I was looking forward seeing you”, you confessed, unable to keep this information for yourself any longer. Surely, Larissa had to know she was the only person you wanted to spend time with in the crowd, she deserved to know, to be reminded.

She took a step forward, her face incredibly close to yours as she put her hands on your shoulders, making you melt at the contact. Her perfume made you feel dizzy and you breathed it in, the smell just so Larissa. “Do you wanna step out a moment? It’s getting too loud,” she said in your ear, and you missed the contact of her hands on your body as soon as she stepped away, only being able to nod in agreement.

Larissa turned on her heels towards the door, looking back to make sure you were following. She noticed the same teacher that was talking to you earlier standing by the door, fire coming back to her eyes as she announced to her that she was stepping out a moment and to keep an eye on the room. The other woman’s eyes had widened as she noticed the principal approach, only to quickly nod before stepping further into the room, disappearing from your view. The background noise seemed further away as soon as the doors closed behind you, feeling like a relief to your ears. You followed Larissa to her office, entering behind her as she held the door open for you, making you blush once again. You had never been treated this way before, never had anyone holding a door for you, and for some, the small gesture would have gone unnoticed, but not to you. And even if she was doing it simply out of kindness, or so you thought, it was still enough to make the blood rise to your cheeks.

She opened a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of red wine and two glasses, expertly opening it and handing you a half-full glass. You thank her before sitting on the couch, Larissa following your movements and sitting next to you. 

“It’s nice to get some silence,” you broke the silence, pulling the glass to your lips, tension leaving your shoulders at the contact of the liquid. “It feels so comfortable being here with you”, you continued before kicking off your shoes and crossing your legs, exposing the skin of your tight. 

Larissa eyes never left the new exposed skin, smiling at your childish gesture at first only to find herself completely hypnotized with this part of your body she had never seen before. 

“Like was you see?” you teased her, taking another sip of wine. This seemed to snap her out of her trance, raising her gaze to meets yours only to find a smirk playing on your lips. The liquid seemed to give you the bravery you didn’t have before, and the looks Larissa kept giving you since she had first approached you in the gymnasium certainly helped with the turmoil of uncertainty you were feeling inside.

“What if I do?” She took a sip as well, her answer almost daring you to continue. Truly, you were taken by surprise, and a little spark of hope light up in your heart at her words. You had noticed the way she was looking at you when your coworker was talking to you. You had never seen that look before, it almost looked like she was angry. But maybe you were mistaken, you soon realized. Was she.. jealous?

You raised your hand and reached for a loose curl that had freed itself from her complicated updo, brushing it behind her ear. The contact of your fingers on her skin made her shiver, and you heard her whimper softly when you retreated your hand back. You put your glass on the decorative table in front of you, moving forward to grab hers out of her hand and doing the same. You sat back closer to her than before, the exposed skin of your leg brushing against her own. 

“Then I’d say I like what I see just as much,” noticing the way her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes flickered to your lips for a second, her heart beating so fast in her chest that she was sure you could hear it too. Except that yours was beating just as fast, and the room suddenly seemed a lot warmer than it was seconds ago.

“Then we have to do something about that,” she whispered, as she forced herself to look away from your lips, only to find your pupils completely blown, focused on her own lips before meeting hers. And she was sure her own eyes mirrored yours, craving to feel you against her, to have your lips on hers. Her hand gently cupped your cheek, watching your reaction as she leaned forward, for any sign you didn’t want it, giving you time to move away if it was the case. But you didn’t, your attention now back on her lips as your hands found their way to her waist, pulling on the fabric of her dress slightly as you met her halfway.

Her body pressed against yours, holding you impossibly close to her, her free hand moving to the back of your head in an attempt to pull you even closer, which was impossible considering the angle you were in. It was the softest, most loving kiss you had ever received in your life, and yet, it was full of passion, of repressed emotions that could finally come to light. Nothing mattered except her in that moment, loosing yourself in the kiss you had craved for so long. She pushed you backward, your back hitting the soft couch as her lips never left yours, taking advantage of the new space she had created by straddling you. You couldn’t feel anything but the weight of her body on yours, how perfectly you seemed to fit together. She only pulled away when her lungs were screaming for air, resting her forehead against yours with no indication to move away from you. 

“Wow,” was all you could breathe out as you tried to catch your breath, your eyes still close. A soft smile was playing on your lips as your hands holding Larissa’s waist firmly into place hinted her that you wanted her just as close and she did. Your mind was trying to process was had just happened when she kissed you again, this time only lasting a few seconds, her thumbs softly stroking the sides of your cheeks. 

“Wow indeed,” she smiled against your lips, “I’ve wanted to do that for a while”, you confessed, brushing your nose against hers, not daring to move, not ready to pop the little bubble you had just created. 

“So did I, sweetheart. And we can do it again, and again, and again,” you giggled as she kissed you every single time she pronounced the word. This was probably what heaven felt like, being in Larissa’s arms, being able to kiss her so freely. Her brows suddenly furrowed, making your smile fade as you noticed the turmoil that seemed to have taken place inside her head.

“Rissa?” you questioned, her features softening as she noticed the uncertainty painted on your face. 

“It’s nothing bad darling. Well, kind of, because we have to go back to the dance”, she groaned, tension leaving your body at once and you giggled when she hid her face in the crook of your neck, her breath tickling your skin. “I promise you we’ll finish what we started after, as I’m not done kissing you yet”. 

She raised her head from her new favorite place to hide and sat down, immediately missing your warmth. She extended her arm so you’d grab her hand and sit down next to her. She handed you your shoes, sending her a grateful smile as you quickly put them back on before standing up next to her, facing each other once again. “You look beautiful with my lipstick all over your face”, she teased as she used her thumb to wipe the excess her kisses had left on you, making you blush as you did the same, even though it wasn’t so smuggled on her. She opened the door for you once again, your health melting at how thoughtful she was, your mind spiraling in a bliss you had never experienced before.

“Maybe I should start wearing heels,” you whispered under your breath, as she seemed so much taller than you now that you wanted to reconnect your lips to hers, making her chuckle softly. She led you to the doors of the Rave’N once again, her hand never leaving yours. The loud music didn't seemed to bother you as much as before, your mind being completely elsewhere. As you passed in front of your coworker, you noticed her attention focused on your joint hands, Larissa’s grip tightened on your hand before you poked her side, making her try to move away to the side giggling, and you mentally noted that she was ticklish for later on. “No need to be jealous, I was always yours,” you told her, her features softening, the smile you gave her leaving no doubt to it.

[brucewaynehater101]

I had an idea for the AU where Tim is ruler of a dozen or so planets. As someone with an Empire that large, OA would take notice. They sent a few Green Lanturns (not any human ones) to check it out and found Tim to be an actually good ruler. He even willingly came back with them to OA without a massive vanguard (the don't know that YJ could destroy them all if they so pleased) and Tim spent nearly a week there just discussing things like trade routes and taxes on goods and which items were taxed more where and all kinds of things like that which OA normally oversees.

After the week is over, the Guardians respect Tim for being one of the nicest yet most cut throat negotiators they've ever met. First king/Emperor/ruler/whatever in centuries to not get into a screaming match with them at some point or act like a brat at all. Tim was polite and respectful the whole time, just as his mother taught him.

Tim also comes out with much better trade deals and the Guardians owning him a handful of favors by the weeks end and none of them but Tim realize just how Amazing of a deal he got.

This would be absolutely fantastic to read. I want to hc that none of the human GLs were there at the time when Tim was making all of trade deals and chatting. Perhaps they were on Earth or a far away mission. Whatever the case is, they return to OA and hear rumors about the amazing new leader for several worlds.

Identity shenanigans ensue because, after the whole BruceQuest stuff, those human GLs know Red Robin (or whatever mantle he's taken; I'm fond of "Patron" for this AU), but don't know that he's the badass ruler they were told to treat with respect or whatever (space politics?)

Then they find out that a bunch of humans moved to the worlds according the leader. The humans, though, are ex-LoA agents.

Just chaos, ig, with identity shenanigans

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 45

part 1 | part 44 | ao3

Nancy, Jonathan, and some guy with the longest hair Steve's ever seen are standing in a loose circle with Eddie and his bandmates, talking and sort of dance-nodding along to The Power of Love by Huey Lewis (a fact that Steve absolutely intends to mock his boyfriend for the second he gets the chance), and Steve, like, mentally girds his loins.

He and Jon are cool with each other, and he and Eddie are obviously, uh, plenty warmed up to one another by now, but the rest of them...

One's a stranger, one's an ex who seems drunk as shit and is currently so invested in spinning around to the music that she hasn't opened her eyes to notice him, and the other three are thawing to him at a truly glacial pace. Steve hasn't so much as been invited to watch a rehearsal yet because Eddie's 'still working on them' and needs 'a bit more time, but don't worry, they'll come around.'

They don't openly scowl when he and Robin approach, though, so Steve takes that as a win.

"Harrington!" Eddie calls, bowing deeply to add, "Lady Buckley."

Steve would feel stung by the surname if not for how downright giddy Eddie sounds. God, he loves tipsy Eddie; fucking Disney cartoon boy.

"Munson," he plays along, giving him a sly grin and a shoulder bump as he sidles up next to him. "Didn't know you were allowed to leave the basement at these things."

Jeff interrupts his air-guitaring to glare at Steve, bur Eddie holds out a hand and assures him that Steve's just fucking around. Before Steve can apologize or defend himself, Long Hair Guy leans in across the circle, his eyes wide and intense and bloodshot to hell.

"Dude," he greets. "You have. Such beautiful hair."

Steve barks a laugh. Robin rolls her eyes. Jonathan also rolls his eyes, but it seems more fond and less annoyed. "Can't take you anywhere," he mutters to the guy, then asks them, "You guys met Argyle yet?"

Steve holds out a hand. Confusion washes over him as he processes what Jonathan just said. "Uh." Argyle. "Like the sweater?"

"Yeah, man," Argyle smiles, dopey and slow. Sure. The guy in head-to-toe tie-dye and a neon green fanny pack is named Argyle. Why not? "My parents wanted a sheep, but they got me, instead."

Jonathan laughs like it's the funniest joke he's ever heard. Steve's pretty sure he's too sober for this conversation.

They exchange handshakes, and Robin asks if she can touch the guy's hair, and they all slip into easy, friendly conversation, naturally splintering into smaller groups of twos and threes. Steve's just getting the rundown on all the 'sick new gear' the band got for Christmas when the song changes, and god, this night just could not get better.

"Oh, fuck off!" Eddie groans in the DJ's direction.

Steve has to practically swallow his lips to keep himself from cackling, and then he gives up and does it, anyway, because Eddie looks like he just sucked a lemon while watching a dog die as his bandmates all start sing-shouting along. "We're talking away..."

"No." Eddie wheels around and points a finger at Steve, because Steve's singing, too.

Steve just sings louder. "I don't know what, I'm to say!"

"Oh, my god." He scrubs a hand down his face, dragging the skin down until Steve can see the pale pink of his inner eyelid. "Nobody I know has any goddamn taste!"

"Maybe you don't have any taste!" Robin teases, bouncing around and swinging her arms haphazardly to the music.

Nancy backs her up with a mumbled "Yeah!" but she's still spinning around in such tight circles that Steve doubts she has a single clue what's happening in the argument right now. Which is kind of endearing, actually. He likes how willing she is to stick up for people.

The chorus kicks in; Gareth air-drums the switch to half time just before Frank does an honestly super impressive falsetto of 'in a day or twoooooo', and Eddie despairs while Steve laughs his fucking head off.

—

part 46

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[alastor-simp]

Watching a Horror Movie With Lilia Vanrouge🦇

❥Summary: Its horror movie night at Ramshackle Dorm. Who are you inviting over?

❥Tags: horror movie night, twisted wonderland x reader, lilia vanrouge, fluff, adorable, so much fluff, pillow fight, cuddles, lilia is such a goofball.

❥Notes: Wanted to continue this horror movie series with twisted wonderland characters. Last one I did was Floyd so now its time for Lilia. Enjoy!

Lilia Vanrouge 🦇 + Jeepers Creepers🪡

(Lilia gif credit to @flowerofthemoonworld)

🦇"Kufufu. Your asking little old me on a date now, are we? Hehe, I'm teasing you. I'd be delighted to come over~!" Lilia would instantly tease you, causing you to blush, the minute you said if he wanted to come over to watch a horror movie with you at Ramshackle. He was over the moon that you were inviting him, and immediately started to ask if he needed to bring anything special for the movie night.

🦇You told him just to bring his cute self with his pajamas to your dorm, and reminding him to arrive at 7 PM. Giggling at that, Lilia gave you a quick hug, before he disappeared with his magic. As you began to head back to class, you started to think on how you could prepare for the movie night, and also what movie to pick. You knew Lilia has been around for a long time, and he was up to date with modern technology as he often gamed with Idia. Maybe you could pick a movie from your world? It would be something that Lilia has never seen before and he may enjoy it.

🦇After class, you headed to your dorm and started to prepare. Remembering Lilia's fondness for tomatoes, you decided to have some tomato juice for him to drink, and also make a margarita pizza as well, as nothing beats eating pizza when watching a movie. With the help of the ghosts, you were able to string some colored lights around the walls, giving the room a spooky feeling. The couch was layered with fluffy blankets and pillows, and the food was placed on the living room table.

🦇A rhythmic knock was heard from the door, alerting you. Sprinting towards it, you opened it wide to reveal, nobody? Huh? Sticking your head out, you looked left and right, wondering where Lilia was. "BOO!" Popping up from above, Lilia was hanging upside down, wearing a cheesy grin. "AHH! Jeez! Lilia!" Glaring at him, he continued to laugh at your reaction before floating around to where he was standing face to face with you. It took a moment for you to look at his adorable outfit. He was wearing neon green lounge wear with little bats decorating it. "Hehe~ Gomenasai. I couldn't resist." You couldn't stay mad at him for long, as a smile made its way to your face. Grabbing his hand, you led him inside your dorm, heading towards the decorated living room.

🦇Lilia couldn't resist and ran towards the couch, hopping onto it with a giggle, causing you to shake your head. Making your way towards the tv, you inserted the movie you picked for the both of you to enjoy, heading back towards the couch to sit next to Lilia. Reaching for the tomato beverage on the table, you handed it to Lilia with a smile which he gladly accepted with a kind smile. "What is the name of the movie we are watching?" Lilia questioned, as he reached for the pizza and began nibbling on it, cheese stretching out from the slice he consumed. "Oh its a movie called Jeepers Creepers. It's a very popular movie from my world and I picked it because I'm pretty sure its gonna be a movie you have never seen before."

🦇Lilia chuckled, saying he was excited to watch it, leaning more towards you to place his head on your shoulder. He always does stuff like this to make your heart race. Trying to ignore the adorable bat fae on your shoulder, your eyes drew to the tv as it began to play. The movie continued to play, showing the two main protagonists exploring a local church where they saw the villain supposedly dumping bodies somewhere. Lilia was beaming with excitement, his magenta colored eyes sparkling the more the movie played. He broke into a fit of laughter when you got jump scared by the crow scaring the female character in the movie. "Haha...very funny." you said sarcastically, as Lilia finally managed to calm down, wiping the tears from his eyes.

🦇Further into the movie, it is revealed the villain is an ancient bat like monster, which consumes the body parts of others, to regenerate parts he has lost. This was the first time you had seen Lilia looking so serious, appearing very upset with the actions the monster was doing, and all the deaths he had performed. The ending to the movie gave off an eerie feel to it as the monster survives and manages to kill one of the main characters. As the credits began to roll, you turned to look at Lilia, who appeared a bit upset, "Are you alright?" Lilia turned to you and gave a soft smile, "I'm alright..its just....wasn't expecting an ending like that, most of the movies I have come across the heroes survive and defeat the evil villain, yet this time, the villain wins." Your hand move to nestle against his hair, giving it a rub, "Its only a movie Lilia." Lilia nodded, but it was clear he was still a bit sad.

🦇Smirking to yourself, your hands reached for the couch pillow behind you, throwing it to hit against Lilia with a thud. "Wha-?" Lilia blinked in confusion as he peered at you, smiling wide at him. "PILLOW FIGHT!" Grabbing another pillow, you threw it at Lilia, which he caught with ease, smile revealing his little fangs, as he chuckled evilly. "Prepare yourself!" Lilia quickly vanished from your sight, appearing behind to hit you with the pillow. The pillow fight continued for a couple hours, the both you running around with pillows, ready to attack the other. Lilia had a bigger advantage, as he was very quick and his magic allowed him to teleport, making it easier for him to attack you. The both of you had ran into your bedroom, pillows at the ready, waiting for the other to strike. Raising it in the air, you gave one last hard throw to Lilia, before he vanishes again. He appears from above, hitting the pillow into your face, as both of your bodies land on the bed.

🦇"Kufufu~ I win!" He hovers above you, fanged smiled appearing on his face. Removing the pillow from your face, you gaze at him fondly, as you continued to lay on the bed. "Feeling better?" Lilia paused for a second, and then proceeded to laugh wholeheartedly. "Was that your little plan? Making me feel better with a little pillow fight?" He raised an eyebrow at you, moving closer to where his lips were almost touching. "Yeah." Lilia laughed at your innocent answer, moving to place a kiss on your cheek, before moving his head down to lay on your chest. "What an adorable human you are." Lilia nuzzled his head deeper into you, wrapping his arms around your back, pulling you closer.

🦇Wrapping your own hands around him, you pulled him in deeper, moving further up the bed, to have your head lay against the pillow. One of your hands toyed with the colored locks of his hair, earning a comforting hum from him. "I enjoyed doing this with you. Perhaps we can do this at Diasomnia with the others. I'm sure Malleus would be happy. Just hope Silver doesn't fall asleep through the movie." Lilia chuckled against you, lifting his head up to gaze at you with loving eyes, "Sounds like a plan." His head returned to your chest, and you felt his breathing slowed. Your hands continued to play with hair as you continued to hold onto each other, enjoying each others warmth. Little mini snores could be heard from Lilia as he had fallen asleep on top of you, as your eyes gazed down at him softly. "Good night Lilia." you said softly, as you placed your head down against the pillow, sleep consuming you as well.

-END-

Tag List- @inkslayer , @aria-tempest , @batmanmonstarr

@sadnessiscoldtea , @madam-strawberryrose , @91062854-ka

@crazed-flower , @darischerry ,

@lillyisfreakyy

[mochiwrites]

For the ask game/prompt, mayhaps #1 with Scarian? Could be in canon, one of your AUs, or any other AU you think of lol, no preference ☺️

01. Touch starved/cuddle curse (put that guy in a situation!)

reblogs do more than likes!

"How in the world have you managed this, Scar?!" Grian's indignant voice exclaims, echoing in the small space of Scar's train car. The avian looks down at the man currently pouting at him, a sheepish expression on his face.

"I-I don't know! Joel just gave me this potion thingy and -- and said it would be good for bonding with cOW!" As he speaks, he makes a grabbing motion for Grian, his pout morphing into a pleading look.

Grian pointedly takes a step back from Scar's outreaching arms, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Trusting Joel was your first mistake," he mumbles, sucking in a breath.

"He's a trustworthy fellow!" Scar retorts, "Besides, I don't see what's so bad about this arrangement... all I want to do is cuddle with you."

"That's exactly the problem, Scar!" The feathers of Grian's wings fluff up as he stares at his husband with a firm look. "I have building I have to do! Shops to set up, permits to not do! I also promised Gem I'd help her out with something in a few hours. I can't just stay here with you all day."

Scar's pleading expression only becomes stronger, his green eyes looking shiny as he stares up at Grian from where he sits on his head. "Please, lovebird? Just for a little bit?" He makes another grabbing motion for Grian, who finds his resolve rapidly crumbling the longer he looks at Scar.

"Nuh uh mister, I know exactly how this sort of thing goes. We both know it won't just be 'for a little bit,'" he answers. Grian's making any desperate attempts at keeping his denial firm.

But... he could just tell Gem he'd be around tomorrow. And it's not like the Permit Office is really ever open. They're only sometimes there to help anyway. And he still hasn't come up with any ideas for his mushroom stem shop.

"I promise this time I'll stick to it! Only a few hours, I swear on my hat!" Scar exclaims, eagerly nodding.

"Where have I heard that one before," Grian mumbles under his breath, fondness written into each and every word. He lets out a little sigh, "Alright, alright, fine. But only for a few hours! Let's hope this... cuddle affliction has run its course by then."

He takes a step toward Scar, and the moment he's close enough, a hand jumps out to grab hold of his wrist. Grian yelps as he's pulled right into Scar's lap, arms slinging around his waist. He steadies himself by gripping Scar's shoulders, finding the love of his life grinning at him.

"You should know I always want to cuddle with you." Scar shoots him a cheeky little wink, making Grian roll his eyes, a small smile upon his lips. "You just fit in my arms so perfectly!"

"Maybe that's just because you're a giant," Grian huffs, getting settled in Scar's hold. He moves to lay his head on Scar's shoulder, tucking it within the crook of his neck. "You're like one big teddy bear."

Scar squeezes him lightly, one of his hands moving to rest against the small of his back, right in between his feathers. The contact leaves Grian melting right into him with a content noise. "Am I a cute teddy bear?"

Grian snorts at him.

"It's the most important question I've ever asked you next to proposing, Grian!" Scar gasps in return, a serious look in his eyes. His green eyes sparkle with mirth, and pressed against him like this, Grian can feel the way his chest rumbles with hidden laughter. "I have to know if I'm a cute teddy bear!"

"Yes Scar," Grian sighs fondly, pulling back to hold the man's face in his hands, "you're a very cute teddy bear." He accentuates his response with a kiss to Scar's nose, "Although Jellie is cuter."

Scar makes some kind of ecstatic noise, pulling Grian down into bed as he rolls onto his side. Grian squawks at the sudden action, just narrowly avoiding his wings getting squished. "But of course! No one is cuter than Jellie. You come in a close second place though."

If it were anyone but Jellie, Grian would have complained.

Instead, he snuggles in close to Scar, wrapping a wing around him as they fall into a comfortable silence. Scar's arms are secure around him, and Grian thinks he'd be fine with laying here all day, wrapped in his husband's arms.

"Remember Scar, only for a few hours."

"Right, right! Only a few hours. Or until this cuddle curse goes away!"

(They go well over 'a few hours' together. Grian's communicator pings a few times, but it sounds almost silent over the pair's easy breaths as they sleep.)

[waokevale]

Looks at you with my eyes sitting in front of you like I'm interrogating you (but it's actually a really nice cozy room). I have heard tale of this WXwood ship. Tell me what you find compelling about the ship I'm considering joining you in WXwood land. Literally just say words at me I'm listening

Alright, very well then, so I shall! 🫡

At first, it was kind of an ironic ship for me, because they seemed like the classic "opposites attract"

But once I got digging, I found they're not actually that opposite, they share plenty of things in common and neither is actually a black or white character. Inevitably I became enthralled with this ship and now it's one of my top 3 or so OTPs.

Here's my reasoning and what I found:

1. WX-78 is actually a bit of a softie if you dig through their quotes enough. They act tough and logical to presumably hide whatever ounce of empathy they have left, that didn't escape them completely. (But they're not doing too good of a job)

Etc. They either use this uncharacteristically soft tone or hide a kind gesture or well-intentioned thought behind robotically constructed sentences and insults.

And of course, I don't have to show the quotes for machines or metallic structures, since WX openly sees them as their family and acts basically the same as Wormwood does with plants.

Meanwhile, Wormwood isn't always an empathetic creature. He can sometimes be callous, apathetic and even have favorites amongst plants (and people too), though he doesn't directly state that. He also isn't as dumb as he portrays himself to be, he definitely knows something, but either has too limited English speaking skills or is actively choosing not to say much.

He often sobs or cries when a creature dies, but there are times he reacts with either "whoops", "oh" or "too bad" like it's a small inconvenience at best.

And those are only some of the examples (I can't show them all since I'm answering this on my phone and therefore there's an image limit)

2. Here's a reason why, despite being vastly different at first, they'd ultimately become friends:

WX-78 actually likes plenty of things that correspond to Wormwood, it's likely for them to eventually settle, once they know enough about him.

And what are those things they like, you might ask?

Bees (going back to their previous quote) since WX is frankly enamored by bees, and since Wormwood blooms, there's countless of them surrounding him. if they were to hang around him, they'd hang around bees too. 👌

Their quote for green gem is: "PRESSURE AND IMPURITIES HAVE PRODUCED PLEASING PERFECTION" which is. well. Something.

They're very fond of pumpkins, describing them as: "IT HAS A PLEASANT SHAPE" while their seed as "IT IS A SOURCE CODE FOR PLEASING PLANTS" And guess who just happens to have a pumpkin skin ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

The lunar affinity. WX practically WORSHIPS the moon, it wouldn't be surprising that, if they found about this aspect about him, they'd get very excited and embrace it, because c'mon, it's the moon. They have dozens of quotes describing how THE MOON IS SUPERIOR, I wouldn't be able to fit all of them into this post, just trust me on that.

WX-78 doesn't hate all organic life, besides they're just playing out a role. But they do certainly appreciate some plants, such as potatoes and lureplants. The former because they can relate to them (potato battery) and the latter because "AWW, IT'S JUST AS EVIL AS I AM". Would it be too farfetched if with his influence they'd grow to appreciate organic life more?

3. Wormwood's quote for W.A.R.B.I.S armor suggests that he admires WX and would like to mimic them. (Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery after all)

4. The survivors farming animation is quite charming, I certainly loved their small interaction there. They're also shown in the official Return Of Them vignette, farming on the side.

5. I like the fact that one of them is afraid of water and the other of fire. Adds an interesting dynamic.

6. They just work. Despite wanting to "DOMINATE ALL ORGANIC LIFE" WX-78 appreciates people who can stand up for themselves. I'd guess Wormwood would be a huge pushover at first, no doubt, but with their influence, he would certainly have to grow a spine (metaphorically speaking)

Likewise, WX-78 struggles to show kindness to non-robotic creatures, because they fear they might come off as WEAK and SENTIMENTAL. Things they loathe to expose about themself. Wormwood could help them show that it's okay to love organic friends and be nice to others! (sometimes at least.)

I'd say they balance out each other perfectly and that is quite rare to see in modern pairings. While they'd definitely struggle to get along at first, they'd surely grow fond of the other one day :)

I hope this convinced you. if not, I'll try and dig up some more stuff. Then again, keep in mind that there aren't many canon character interactions besides whatever crumbs we've got from their quotes and official animations.

[williaml0ver]

Ok ok ok, hear me out- Naib x a charismatic!sunshine!reader who tries his best to cheer everyone up in the manor 👀👀

☆ <3 Naib Subedar With a Sunshine Like s/o ☆ <3

[🖇️] word count: 1213

[🖇️] warnings: g/n reader, Naib's a little grumpy

[🖇️] author's note: first of all THIS IS MY FIRST REQUEST EVER i'm emotional thank you so much 😭🫂 i honestly wasn't sure how to portray reader's personality well sooo this may not entirely be focused around it but i tried my best in sneaking some traits here and there, hope you'll enjoy this!

☆ ☆ ☆

-You make his stay at the gloomy manor more bearable.

-Wouldn't understand you at first, because what's so nice and exciting about having to stay in this cursed place?

-He would have some suspicions towards you. He would be convinced that you're hiding some cruel intentions behind this bright smile. You would quickly notice how strange he's acting around you, and yeah, he is kind of stiff around most people, but you're feeling a whole new level of coldness here.

-Naib's attitude would spark amusement among other manor residents, at some point the rumous get to you.

-What can you say, you did feel surprised, thought felt a little bad for the mercenary, his life was probably filled with many dangerous moments and he grew cautious of his surroundings. Who can blame him?

-You decided to get closer to him, step by step. Start with something small, like initiating short conversations. His answer would be very short at first. That challenge is not for the faint hearted. You won't give up.

-Naib would just notice a weird pattern how you recently started talking to him more and eventually sense danger. He'd make himself clear and possibly threaten you.

-I think the best way to make him let his guard down is to have a honest conversation with him. Let him known your thoughts. Naib, slowly, would actually open up to you.

-Whenever in a bad mood, he would unconsciously be looking forward to seeing you again. There's just something about your smile, positive attitude and the little jokes you make. He craves comfort.

-Let's make this clear: he has no idea why you're being so kind towards HIM. He'd see you casually handing out small trinkets and laughing together with other people who did much more evil things than him, but he would still be in denial, does he really deserve this?

-Yet something would make him appreciate your way of being. Something would make him want to be near you, spend more time with you... get together with you?

-Yeah, it was a hard thing for him to admit he's got a crush. How awkward would that be... he definitely isn't saying that out loud.

-Funny thing is that you've also grown fond of the green hooded boy. Overly grown. There just was something about his cautiousness and hints of mystery. You quickly spotted how diffrently he started treating you compared to others lately. You even caught him softly smiling during your small talk.

-It wasn't long until you became a couple. One would think Naib would not make the first move, however he wished to show his gratitude to you, he just wasn't sure how!

-The mercenary ended up giving you a simple boquet of flowers. But what really touched you was his speech. He was usually a man of few words, so you quickly understood how important this was to him. His speech felt very honest and emotional: Naib was touched by so many things you have done for him, although for you they were something absolutely ordinary.

-He would feel relieved that you accepted his feelings and feel shocked finding out you feel the same.

-Spending time with you on a daily basis made him change his personality a little. Yes, he would still be THE mercenary when needed, no doubt, but overall he'd become more open. Seeing him go from someone very closed off to a suprisingly cheeky person made you melt. You felt glad that you helped him grow.

-Isn't afraid of showing PDA.

-Whenever someone new enters the Oletus manor they would immediately feel like this is some inside joke between the both of you, because how would that even make any sense? A cold hearted mercenary walking hand in hand with the literal definition of a ray of light? Truth is, you are a great match for Naib! Your relationship is perfectly balanced.

-Perfect example of a grumpy/cheerful duo.

-It was not a rare sight to see the mercenary utterly tired after his matches. Being a rescuer was a demanding position. It was a good thing other players trust and depend on him, but on the other hand the big pressure can cause a huge toll on his calmness.

-If someone got chaired, everyone else expects Naib to go to the rescue, even if he's currently far, far away. Of course, Naib learnt to control stress and work in difficult situations much before he even found out about the manor, but that didn't change the fact that post-match he'd isolate himself from everyone else.

-From everyone else besides you.

-You are his escape from reality. His soft spot. Naib has no idea how you've did it, but you managed to win him over completely. You're always trying to make him smile with this mysterious comforting aura, whether it's with words of affirmation and telling him he's done all in his power, how strong and devoted he is or with gentle touches, like holding his hand and kissing his palms.

-It's therefore no secret that during his bad days he wants you to be near.

-You can spend several together hours together just laying and cuddling. He lives for your smile.

-Naib appreciates how you comfort him after tough days and he comforts you in hours of need as well:)

-I wouldn't say he's very private when it comes to pda, though he's not overly affectionate in public either. He would have absolutely NO SHAME. You're needy for his attention but there are other survivors around? Don't worry! Naib is already patting his lap, awaiting you. He loves how you don't care what others think of your behaviour.

-Does not care about his reputation anymore. Those people know you are his soft spot. Just because he's gentle with you doesn't mean he's going to be merciful for everyone else. Someone dare to complain about you being annoying - they would be quickly receiving the glare.

-Naib would ALWAYS feel very protective over his s/o, no matter what personality would they have. He is a mercenary, a soldier, if his loved one wouldn't have a thing against being with someone like this, he'd become a total keeper as long as he is breathing.

-And when you're so positive almost all the time? Wanting to make sure everyone is feeling good? He would be all over you. A lot of, if not most people, residing in the manor were, to put it simply, bad people, so to have someone so pure next to him would turn him quite possesive.

-Of course, he is aware you are not stupid. You are aware of who the people you spend time with are. The world is not all unicorns and rainbows, you know that. He's going to understand if you show you're feeling uncomfortable with being constantly monitored. He'd try to withdraw from doing it but sometimes Naib can't help it. It's both the protectivness and the jealousy.

-When jealous, Naib would love to come near you and the person you're talking with, hug you from behind and be very affectionate. At some point you both gain the reputation of those people you'd see in citties kissing and making everyone feel awkward according to other people in the manor. Naib loves it.

☆ ☆ ☆

Wishing you guys a good day/night 🫂🫂🫂

[teriri-sayes]

Reactions to Chaos Creator's Chapter 291

Brief summary: The pope's group are treated well in Exion's lair because Exion wants to win them back as allies. 3rd Inquisitor barges into their room and questions Clopeh why he was the guardian knight.

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Despite being the Dragon Lord's sword, Exion was a rational and intelligent dragon. He lived and acted like an aristocrat, and treated his human employees well, that they were even proud of serving under him.

But he was cunning. The pope's group were treated well, and the butler did not hide that Exion ordered it because he knew of the pope's betrayal, but wanted to win her back to his side again. He offered her a solution to her time-limited life. Of course, the pope had no intention of accepting it because she was obsessed with revenge and world destruction. Cale asked her to rethink about that though.

And that's most of the chapter. We got introduced to what kind of person Exion was and how he was viewed by different people. Cale might think he was dangerous, but given Cale's history, I think Cale would deal with him easily. 🥰 I also liked how Cale was trying to change Pope Kesilia and telling her that there was no need for her negative thoughts. I guess Cale was seeing a bit of DHB on Kesilia, and unconsciously cared for her? Or he knew that Raon was fond of her?

The chapter ended with Clopeh's meeting with the 3rd Inquisitor who was introduced last chapter. She sensed that Clopeh was the new guardian knight because she had the sheath of the sword. So... when Maxi stole the sword, she only took the blade and ditched the sword sheath? 😂

3rd Inquisitor: How is it that you, a mere human, can be the Guardian Knight of the Dragon Lord? Everyone: *silence* Clopeh: *smiles and replies calmly* I'm afraid this is the last thing I expected. I am Cale-nim's guardian knight. How can you place someone, who is nothing more than a mere dragon, a Dragon Lord, in the place where the glorious name of The One who would become a Legend is? Cale: *covers face with both hands* (I wish CH and Raon will come sooner.) Clopeh: Huh? How is that possible? 3rd Inquisitor: ??? Clopeh: How can you ask me if I'm the Dragon Lord's guardian knight and not Cale-nim's, huh? Please answer that, I'm so curious, huh? *smiles brightly* 3rd Inquisitor: *trembles at seeing the madness in Clopeh's eyes* Cale: *still covering his face with both hands* Super Rock: Wow. *genuinely impressed with Clopeh*

Clopeh, no... 🤣🤣🤣🤣 She is a future ally, don't scare her. 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 Meanwhile, Cale is embarrassed while Super Rock is impressed. 😂😂😂😂 And author-nim, we already know that Clopeh is one of your fave characters... No need to mention how "holy" he looks or "the white-haired man with green eyes" again and again. 😂

Ending Remarks Clopeh's craziness really brightened up an uneventful chapter. Next up would be a continuation of their meeting. Would the 3rd Inquisitor lead them to the World Tree first? Or would the pope and Cale meet Exion first? I look forward to what more crazy actions Clopeh will do. 😂