#now i can wear it again ^_^ yippee

[lipstickontheglass1985]

just fixed up my old blazer. i ❤️ arts and crafts

[cakesmelons]

With the powers I've been granted as a creator and owner of this very wonderful and logical rizz tl I have declared shattered joined the battle! I mean harem... so— Epic is such a rizzler he traveled through godam timelines to find a new bitch ..harem member?

Even funnier, I mean more fun, this Shattered killed his own Cross and Epic during the chaotic moments of his corruption ;3 ISN'T THAT FUN? 👁️w👁️

Shattered needs time processing the oddly reindeer like skeleton is similar to the oddly skeleton like reindeer.... I'm sure he'll be fine. Dream needs time to process there's another him— also u know the tension(problems?? I'm learning words gimme a sec) between Error and the Dreamtale twins? It's even worse between him and shattered... just how many times have they held shattered back from killing Error?

Shattered isn't like all that great around the harem.. and a little odd around the reindeer because despite that rizz he's still an oddly reindeer like skeleton similar to the oddly skeleton like reindeer. Aand a little protective over his not brother brother, Nightmare because of should be obvious reasons... But he's having a better time... at least he isnt eternally suffering anymore :( **proceeds to make him suffer more/....j ☺️

[ourskiesaboveus]

@just-some-guy-joust

alright i know this is a bit after the poll (this week was Hectic) but. i loved the tournament a bunch even though i didn't have time to make good propaganda for my boy matt

like. i didn't know who whole or brian were before this tournament but now i have spent way too long playing yuppie psycho (considering that poll came out like a week before finals and also that. i can't do any of the puzzles) and have so much cccc brainrot. all the participating blorbos were too powerful. amazing competition

anyway have a quick comic about the results :)

cw gun pointed at viewer

good luck to sasha as she bravely forges forward in the some guy semifinals

[batz]

realizing its almost been 6 months since top surgery:)

[polyestercleaner]

Can we get a nsfw alphabet with joost please?💫

Yippee ya yay I was waiting for someone to request this!!! Thanks for the request yah!

|Summary:Nsfw Alphabet For Joost

|Content Warning⚠️:Nsfw duh

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

The absolute sweetest, pats your head and plays with your hair.

If your REALLY done and your absolutely exhausted he'll pick you up and help you get cleaned, washing your face and helping you wear your clothes as you both giggle and talk about how good that was

We all know he's a ginormous smoker so what's better than a smoke after having sex with someone you adore? He'll take you with him out to the balcony and either have you sit down on his lap or next to him, if your a smoker to you'll share together, playfully blowing smoke on eachother

If he's too tired aswell, you'll be the one in charge, helping him slip his clothes back on and then laying on top of him, soft kisses everywhere until he sleeps.

I'd say he's more of a giver than a receiver though so it's mostly him caring for you afterwards!

B = Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners)

I'm a firm believer that joost is a tits man, prove me if I'm wrong, he loves your tits, small big medium it dosent matter hell still be fondling them and placing kisses on your sensitive nipples

He lives the dips and curves you have, whether you were a fat or skinny person, he loves feeling the curves and dips on your thighs and rib cage or tummy

As for himself I'd say his hands, just adores how much he can do to you with them, he knows how much you notice the size difference between your hand and his. Loves the fact he can ruin you with just one hand.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically)

As much as I think he'd love to cum inside of you at all times, when he knows he can't or if your simply not into that at the very moment, it's always gonna be on your lower part of your tummy, always there, loves the whimpers and soft gasps you let out when he comes on your tummy and the warmth of it shocks you once again.

If you let him cum inside you? Well it's over, he's gonna stuff you full with his cum until your hole can't keep it inside, and he'll still use his fingers to push back the cum oozing out of your cunt.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

REALLY wants to fuck you while wearing those slutty lingerie fits, it might not be extremely dirty but I feel he would view it as so

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

I'm pretty sure he already said he isn't a virgin(after attempting to lie that he's a virgin XP) after a while of knowing you I'm sure he'd be able to memorize your body like the back of his hand

He knows every part that could get you to arch your back by then

And he definitely has experience with a couple of women

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

Doggy style probably,, enough of those references joost:o pulling slightly at your hair just to see the way your face scrunches and the way your mouth falls open when he slams his cock deep inside of you

If there's a mirror than that would make things even better

Cowgirl too, rubs circles into your hips as you desperately bounce on his cock to chase after your climax

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

Most definitely silly, cracking a joke every now and then

Always stopping mid way to say something stupid that will get you laughing for 4 minutes straight

He's just fucking funny man

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

NEVER shaves it at this rate i don't think he ever picked up a razor for the purpose of shaving it

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect.)

Despite being silly alot during it he will make sure you feel loved and desired

Placing kisses on your cheeks and thighs when he's going down on you

Complimenting you during and after

"You did so well, so gorgeous" he'll tell you while playing with your hair after your both done

J = Jack off (Masturbation Headcanon)

He's got you, why would he wanna jack off?

When your not around and he's out on tour or your simply not in the mood I'd say he jacks off at least twice a week, all while thinking about you

Whimpering your name forever and always😞

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Praise kink(he'll praise you at any chance he has)

Bondage

Breeding kink(he just loves seeing your tummy all round and full of his cum)

Dacryphilia(only if your tears are from pleasure) he'll coo at you and brush your tears away despite how much he loves seeing them

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

does he even care at this point?

Wherever you want, whenever

His favorites are your bedroom and backstage sex will always be his favorite

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

The way you look at him will always get him, fluttering your eyes and acting all innocent

Seeing you wear his clothes of any kind

N = No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything to do with piss😞🤞

Even tho I think he'd be open to anything I feel like public sex will always be a no no unless it's discreet yo a certain extent

No threesomes why would he give you away to someone else

Any weird ass petnames like daddy or something (master, sir)

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Prefers going down on you

When isn't he NOT pussy drunk

He won't get off of you until he makes sure you came around his tounge atleast 3 times

He's very skilled, his tounge circling around your clit and teasing your hole before pushing his tounge further inside

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends, morning sex with him would be slow and sensual, he'll focus on making sure you feel good and loved, kisses everywhere and praise all over the place

Usual sex at night will be slightly rougher, bending you over anything in your room. Fucking you like it's the last time he'll get his hands on you

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Never passes a chance to get a taste of you

Fingering you in a bathroom stall and when you both hear people come on his hand will fly to your mouth to shield all the moans that slip out

Yet he still continues fingering you, despite all the noises your poor cunny is making

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

Open to trying things, no matter what.

Hell take some risks here and there if he's really in the mood

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

I feel like you both would have equal amounts of stamina

Hell go for 3 rounds maybe 4 if he's really full of energy

Or you'll both doing an extra round that's too sloppy cuz your both exhausted

His thrusts become sloppy over the rounds, which only makes you more overstimulated and frustrated

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He found out you owned toys on a random day and now when he comes over he'll randomly find one when he's looking around at your room and just ends up using it on you

If you own vibrating panties or small vibrators he'll use them when you both go out

Watching you squirm in your seat if he turns the vibrations up

Your mouth falling open as you try to regain composure so you wouldn't out yourself to everyone

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

Biggest fucking tease out there

Whether it was normally or sexually

He'll never pass a chance to tease you in bed either

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not too loud if he isn't throwing praises at you

Groans and whimpers here and there and that's about it

Mostly quite just to focus on hearing the sounds you make

W = Wild Card (A random headcanon for the character)

Cock warming lover

It dosent even have to be sexual He just loves the feeling of you on his cock, warming up every inch of him, sometimes he'll end up bucking his hips and thrusting up into you occasionally

X = X-ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

5 inches max 6 if he's really hard

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Pretty horny, atleast 3 times a week, but you always have something going on almost everyday

Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterward)

He dosent really sleep afterwards, just goes out for a smoke or just smokes while your laying on his chest, drifting into sleep but he just simply stays awake, smoking.

|Okay don't blame me if this turns out shit I haven't done these in a decade or so. Thanks for the request!٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

[utterlyazriel]

whom the shadows sing for — (and the thief's echoing hymn)

a/n: annnd we've made it to velaris ! yippee !! now it's time for all the introductions >:D i hope you enjoy pls let me know what you think angels <3 ok mwah bye

word count: 3.5k

synopsis: You wake up somewhere entirely new, a long, long way from your home.

CHAPTER EIGHT :: STRANGERS (AGAIN)

The air all around you is sickly sweet.

Maybe... sweet is the wrong word. The air is clean; perfumed with an allure of scents you've never smelt before, heady and swirling, sweet and sterile all in one.

But more importantly, it is utterly foreign.

You're in unknown territory. Age old instinct has you shifting the moment you wake, surging up in a rush before your memory can catch up and remind you why that's an terribly bad idea.

The sheets rustle as you push yourself up into a sitting position, a heavy dose of panic already poisoning your system. It doesn't take long for the pain to follow.

You falter in your movement as an aching agony ricochets through your body, forcing out a wince. Your eyes screw up in pain. Your entire body feels like a bruise, punishing you with every movement.

You allow yourself only a moment of pause before you force them back open to take on the new threat, every sense filtering in unknown information as they sluggishly come to life. You have to blink rapidly to clear your vision, light coming in from all angles.

Why does it feel as though you've been asleep for years?

Where are you?

A room. You're not outside which is where you memory places you last. The extent of the memory drifts back as you search the room, your eyes climbing the walls, ravenous for details. They're made of some kind of warm coloured stone that covers the whole ceiling, you realise, as you follow the line of it up.

You screw your eyes up again and blink hard when you open them again. Every sense keeps pinging for your attention, a thousand things unfamiliar. The bed beneath is too soft, the sound of the wind outside isn't a whistle, the clothes on your back...

You startle, stumbling off the bed you've awoken on as you peer down at yourself, eyes moving about wildly. You're wearing... something completely new.

Frowning down at your arm, you raise one of your hands and pinch at the new fabric that covers the expanse of your arms. It's soft. So soft.

You tentatively smooth your hands down the tunic you're clothed in, all the way down to your pants. Each thing is finely made, with details far smaller that you would ever consider, and soft. Warm but sturdy.

What the fuck? Your chest starts to heave as panic truly sets in, your breath just out of reach before you can catch it. You gasp, grasping at your chest tightly, the new clothes scrunching up beneath your fingers. Memories begin to trickle back in as your mind scours for any information about how you ended up here.

You had been... cold. It was raining.

And your wings had been—your wings—your brain trips over the thoughts as every detail bleeds back in, sudden and frightening.

Stakes driven through the flesh of them, your wings pulled taut, stretched out for lashings and prepped for removal. Your terror climbs, its cloying grip tightening around your sternum like a fist.

Eyes screwed closed, you pray to every deity you can imagine, begging the Mother for this one thing.

You twitch the familiar muscle and feel the weight of your wings as they respond. There's no describing the relief that bursts within you, overwhelming your panic in an instant, your knees nearly buckling beneath you. They're still moving, still stretching out as you command them, still yours.

You stand there and peer over your shoulder, stretching your wings out as far as you can—cringing when they stop before full extension, buckling and bunching up at the violent spike of pain that ripples through them. It echoes through your body, making you hunch forward and grit your teeth. Your left eardrum wails extra loud.

What had happened? What had changed?

You could recall the finality of being down on your knees in the pouring rain, your hands are bound as your fate. Endless agony. The secret you couldn't keep, despite all you had tried.

You had been resigned to it—to dying there amongst in the dirt from where you had come from.

So, what changed?

Behind you, there's an abrupt noise from behind a door in the room, a rustling that makes your head snap around to face it.

Someone’s coming.

You stumble back a couple steps, dread mounting in your chest and your panic returns in full-force. You don't know where you are, you don't know how you got here, you don't know who is coming through that door.

You know that you have a lot more foes than you do friends.

Eyes darting around the room frantically, you spot a balcony down a small hallway and don't waste a single second.

As you begin to stride, you realise faintly that you're without shoes, feet bare on the cool marble floor. It turns to carpet beneath you as your fast strides transforms to a run, hearing the door open somewhere behind you.

It feels like a trap. Not the nice clothes or the fancy room would be enough to fool you. You're caught in a sickly sweet trap of honey and the net is being reined in, the ropes closing up on every side of you. It feels like you're being chased.

Heart in your throat and pulse rabbiting wildly, you burst through the doors of the balcony, daring a glance behind you without thought—

—and you nearly plunge off the edge of a mountain.

The gasp that escapes your throat is entirely involuntary, your fingers gripping the edge of the stone railing the adorns the balcony.

Your balance tips momentarily, the momentum of your dash nearly pulling you over. Terror freezes you. You're fairly certain with the state of your wings, it would be a short flight and an almost guaranteed casualty.

But a wind blows gently against your face, as though helping push you back to safety.

When you're sure you're not going to topple over the edge, some of your crippling panic eases. Your breaths, short and fast, begin to slow.

Your eyes travel up from the daunting height of the mountain side and widen, all the air in your lungs stolen in pure surprise.

Because before you, stretching out across the land that meets the sea, is something you've never seen before.

It's... a city.

A city that sits amongst the rolling, steep hills of the terrain and curls around a meandering river that leads out to the ocean. Tall, jagged mountains surround it from all sides, their hills steep up the top until they give way to gentler slopes, eventually becoming paved roads and streets for magnificent buildings.

The structures gleam, even from afar, made with precision and beauty in mind. Some are white marble or warm sandstone, others the same red stone of the mountains beside the one you're standing on. Small, quaint houses with green copper roofs, their white chimneys smoking softly.

Your breath stutters out in an exhale and you don't dare blink.

A city—a sprawling, wondrous city that was bursting with people, with colour, with life. So utterly unlike the chilled gray-scale of the Illyrian Mountains.

In fact, you wonder briefly if this was even the Night Court at all. This— this incredible sight felt like something you'd imagined of Summer or Spring, imbued with warmth, a place where things could grow and thrive.

The Night Court was... foul. It was the biting frigid cold of the wintry mountains or the shudder-inducing darkness of the court that lay beneath the mountain. This... where is this?

As though you've spoken your thoughts aloud, a voice answers from behind you.

"Velaris."

You start, whipping around fast enough to reawaken all your wounds, forcing you to stifle a pained noise that leaps up your throat. Your heart thunders as your eyes lay upon an unfamiliar figure, stepping out from the empty hallway—a form cut from the very night itself.

Your hands grip the stone railing behind you and you're unsure whether it's to keep your knees from buckling in fear or from bolting off the edge, into uncertain skies.

He's unfamiliar to you, yes, but you have a feeling you know exactly who he is.

"You asked where this—" The male waves a casual hand to the city beyond the balcony before pocketing it, either unaware of your panic or uncaring. "—is. You're in Velaris."

He surveys you, his violet eyes glancing down at the strained way you clutch at the railing.

"I know you must have a thousand questions. We haven't been introduced. My name is Rhysand and I am—"

"I know who you are." You interrupt. There's a lilt of fear in your voice but you couldn't keep it out even if you tried. He's the fucking Highlord of the Night Court.

Which means—Azriel.

His name slams into you like a shooting star, glowing hotly and dripping through your ribcage with a fire warmer than you've ever known.

Azriel must be— he was the one- he's the reason you're still alive. It feels like you relive the relief of his appearance during the storm all over again, remembering that he came back for you.

You have no idea the cacophony of emotion you're giving off, shouting all your unguarded thoughts across the balcony.

Rhysand's cool expression doesn't falter at your disruption. He looks at ease, both hands in his pockets, like he's merely having a conversation with a friend.

"Then it's important for you to know," He continues. "that I mean you no harm."

Lying, lying, liar, LIAR—the thought festers from within you instinctively, only growing in its urgency. You and everyone else where you come from are well aware of the origins of your Highlord.

And while he's your ruler, he's first and foremost, an Illyrian male.

"Only half," Rhysand corrects.

You startle, sickly surprise at the fact he seems to be able to read your very thoughts.

Then he confirms it, by saying, "And I can."

"You can read my thoughts?" You echo, voice sounding so much meeker than you intend. You sound like a child—and you feel like one, feel like the same eight-year-old staring down at the scorched brown earth in Exordor. Old blood. The same dirt you had been forced to kneel upon that now makes you shudder at the fresh memory.

Rhysand's expression falters momentarily at your train of thought, a flash of hurt on his handsome face.

His eyebrows draw together, forming a sympathetic, troubled look. "I can teach you how to shield them, if you so wish."

You don't make a noise. You don't even dare to take a breath, your fingers still crushed around the railing.

Within you, some part of you knows what he's offering. What the very nature of his words implies. He voices it anyway.

"You're no prisoner here. You're free to—”

"Where's Azriel?" The question falls from your lips before you can even think to stop it. Fear hammers through your chest—Fae that make a habit of interrupting Highlord's often find their lives cut short.

But Rhysand gives no impression that he minds. All he does is step to the side, revealing the empty hallway out to the balcony.

Except it's not empty anymore.

There, standing back to hide in the shadows as he did best, is your Shadowsinger.

Reserved and holding back, clearly waiting for you to remember him, to make your call before he made himself known. Making sure you wanted to see him at all.

Azriel, all 6ft something of shadow and muscle, with his wings tucked politely behind him, takes one step out on to the balcony and towards you.

His hands stay at his sides and his hazel eyes watch you with a familiar intensity. Something deep within you unfurls at the sight of him.

It feels like the collision of a thousand stars rain down on you, their jagged, burning fragments pelting into your body.

It's as though the world had been falling out from underneath and then, seeing him before you—when Cauldron knows how long ago you had been resolutely convinced you were never ever going to see him again— suddenly your feet were grounded and the world was still.

You breathe out his name. Azriel sways forward, almost imperceptibly, as though the sound of his name on your lips was a siren call he was helpless to fight.

You don't know that you say it sweeter than he's ever heard it in all his centuries.

Like following an invisible tug, you don't even realise when you start moving, only that you're rushing towards him with an urgency you can't begin to comprehend. It's like he's calling to you and you can't bear to be this close to him and not press in closer.

His beautiful face, usually guarded, reveals a glimpse into his storm of emotions. Concern, care, and something that looks suspiciously like... longing.

Your brain catches up and your feet falter, bringing you to a stand still before him, chest heaving.

Reason starts to catch up to you, asking meanly about what exactly you meant to do, running up to him—you weren't raised with physical touch beyond violence. You and Azriel had barely touched beyond sparring and those quiet nights in your shelter, skin brushing as you passed something to the other.

In the end, it's not you that moves, it's Azriel.

He closes the distance between you with one single step and his strong arms sweep around your middle, pulling you into the tightest hug. Night-chilled mist and cedar swirl your senses.

Helpless to do anything else, with no desire to do anything but this, you melt.

Your weight slumps into Azriel and he takes it without question, your arms curling around his neck to hold him back just as tightly. The light around you shifts, his shadows frenzied as they kiss along your neck and arms, all checking for hurt they can ease. Your heart is torn between soaring and stopping altogether.

The world fades away as his head ducks down, pressing his face the crook of your neck. It's more touch than you've ever known. More safety, more kindness than you've ever dreamed of. You and Azriel seem to exist only in a cocoon of shadow and warmth, in each others arms.

"You're alright," Azriel murmurs, his breath against your neck. It sounds more like he's reassuring himself than telling you. He sounds devastatingly sincere when he says, "I'm so fucking glad you're alright."

"Thanks to you," You whisper back, not wanting to break the silence. "You—"

The words get caught in your throat and you know you need to see his face when you say this. Pulling back from the embrace, you clear your throat as Azriel straightens up. You miss the heat of his body almost instantly.

"I-I thought I was never going to see you again."

It looks as though your words pain Azriel, a flash of pain and shame crossing his expression. His voice, low and gravelly, holds a guilty tone you've never heard him use before.

"I never should have left."

You blink. That wasn't what you had expected him to say in the least. It was you who had lied, who had deceived him from the very beginning. He was— he had— this was what you got for letting anyone get close to you, you understood that.

You shake your head, pointedly ignoring how it makes your injuries throb. "I know why you did, Azriel. I can't imagine—"

Azriel's scarred hands clench into fists at his sides, anguish colouring his face.

"No." He shakes his head, his jaw clenched tightly. "You did nothing wrong. Nothing."

"Then why did you leave?" Your questions comes out with an edge this time, a biting fury as your emotions process what he's saying.

He says you did nothing wrong. He says he shouldn't have left you behind. It's a ugly mixture of hurt and anger that paints your insides as realisations churn to the surface.

Azriel steals a glance to the side, serving as a quick reminder that there was, indeed, someone else still out on the balcony with you. You glimpse at the Highlord as your anger begins to bubble but you can't bring yourself to care.

You had... trusted him— you had let him in, let him get closer to you than anyone ever had, and he had left. He left, he left, he left. He did exactly as you had feared and he was wrong for it.

The greatest secret of your life, exposed like a raw nerve, and he hadn't said a word as he deserted you.

Your heart warbles at the betrayal and you can't help but step back, putting distance between the two of you. It's such a far cry from the nearness of a moment ago.

And even though you know he wasn't responsible for the events that followed, in the haze of your upset, it's awfully easy to add it to his betrayal. As if in response, your wings flinch and shudder as a wave of agony passes through them. You wince, gritting your teeth and turning your gaze to the ground.

"I can leave to give you both some privacy," Rhysand cuts into the conversation, evidently answering Azriel's pointed glance in his direction. "However, I don't think it will be overtly helpful. She's shouting every thought so loudly, I think I'll be able to hear it from the other side of the house."

She. It's been so many years since anyone has used that in reference to you that it nearly winds you, your entire body giving a visible flinch.

It feels foreign. You can't quite tell how you feel about it; whether it's some lost part of yourself to reclaim or whether it's something you've outgrown altogether.

You don't get time to consider it further as, bustling as she walks, a fourth Fae steps out onto the balcony. She's an older female in appearance but certainly not in her sprightliness. Her eyes land on you and they lighten up, as though you're the one she's been searching for.

"You are supposed to be resting." She tsks, without much further explanation. Your heart sinks, already feeling as though you're in trouble. Rhysand, reading your abrupt switch from anger, jumps in to explain.

"Madja, here-" He gestures to the female with a polite smile- "is our resident healer. She's been taking care of you over these last couple days, helping to heal your wings."

A severe reminder of the sorry state that had been in not too long ago. Glancing over your shoulder, your eyes glaze over as they take in the dozens of scattered markings that litter your wings. Irreversible. Your glorious love, changed forever.

There's patches over the ends that you hadn't noticed before, covering where you know the stakes had been. You suddenly feel an immense rush of gratitude towards the stranger before you.

"Thank you," You say, your throat thick. You want to say it again, want to repeat it over and over til your lungs bleed because just once doesn't seem enough.

But Madja nods in a grave way, as though she knows your internal turmoil.

"You weren't supposed to be up and moving quite so soon," She says, this time with less disapproval in her voice.

She directs a more withering look towards Rhysand and Azriel, enough to surprise you. Perhaps, healers held a higher rank within the city than they did in the mountains? The whole scene looks like a mother scolding her naughty children, especially with how both males shrink beneath her glare.

"Anyhow, come now," She turns back to you and gives a gentle wave of her weathered hand, ushering you back inside. "You'll need at least a days rest before you should be back on your feet."

You amble in her direction, too fearful to glance back at the Highlord and too conflicted to turn back to Azriel. You had broken his trust with your deceit but... he had broken your trust back.

He had abandoned you when you needed him most. But he had also turned up during your darkest hour and saved your life.

You weren't sure what you wanted to do more; hug him once more or throw a shoe at his head. Probably both would make you feel better.

From behind you, you swear you hear a faint chuckle of amusement.

—

When it's just the two of them on the balcony, Rhys turns to Azriel, ignoring his brother's unsubtle sullen demeanor.

"So," He grins. "Mates, then?"

Azriel casts a glance across the balcony, still rigid and unmoving from his spot. His shadows perk up at the word but Azriel gives no reaction beyond a twitch in his jaw muscle. Debating whether to respond at all.

Finally, he mutters, "How could you tell?"

Rhys tilts his head back, chuckling quietly, his mind cast back to an old, fond memory. His violet eyes slice back to his Azriel and he gives a little shrug. "A hunch, really. I think I might have enough to start a theory actually."

He wanders over and nudges Azriel with his shoulder, breaking him from his frozen spot and nodding for them to both head indoors. Rather reluctantly, the Shadowsinger falls into step. Side by side, Rhys gives him only a moment of quiet to stew in before he pipes up once more.

"Say— how much do you remember Cassian and Nesta's first meeting? Any flying projectiles?"

tags below!

@strangerstilinski @janebirkln @itsswritten @mischiefmanagers @hnyclover

@waytoomanyteenagefeels @idkitsem @illyrianbitch @jeweline16 @fightmedraco

@iamjimintrash @maendering @spideytingley @aneekapaneeka @cassianswh0reeee

@viciane @astarlitsoul @mybestfriendmademe @archiveofcravings @reputaytionn-13

@bionic-donut @chessebookgirl @itseightbeats @littleblackcatinwonderland @twsssmlmaa

@fanworrior @skysayhi @vintageoldfashion @tequilya @fabulouslyflamboyant5

@rhysandorian @laughterafter @brieftriumphnightmare @hirah-yummar @some-person-somewhere

@scooobies @sfhsgrad-blog @cherry-cin @bookloverandalsocats @megscabinetofcurios

@doodlebugsblog @landofpetrichor @acourtofdreamsandshadows @florabelll @tanyaherondale

@aomi-recs @letmejustreadthanks @problemfinder @sevikas-whore @doodlebugg16-blog

@meandmysillywriting @justingnoreme @krowiathemythologynerd @hanatsuki-hime @sunny747

@coffeebeforewater @kalulakunundrum @marina468 @moonbirde @yellow-birdy @sheblogs

@shinyghosteclipse @randombibitch @itsjustwinter @emryb @books-all-the-way13

[zucchinitart]

skinty LJ 💕

finally gonna make a ref sheet for this man!! repurposing an old sketch cuz I still generally agree with the design…I actually intended to render that old sketch but never did 😭

now here’s some never-before-revealed lore and headcanons!! (this all takes place in a story I’ve never created except in my head 💀 also some have been told, I’m just reiterating them):

-This is how LJ generally looks between the years 1817 to 1886. He was “born” in 1803, stayed with Isaac for one year, got stuck in the box for 13 years, and only started wearing bandages in 1817 once he became a target to the public. As he started getting more wounds, he found out that they would open up easily and opted to wear bandages most of the time.

-He can’t eat as he lacks a digestive system. Instead, he feeds on human interaction. The more positive the interaction, the better it is for him. Because he had such a poor relationship with humans during these years, he ends up looking starved. He’s quite weak in this state, and the only thing keeping him alive is his wit and his sharp nails for weapons.

-His limbs are black right above the connection of his joints (knees and elbows). The rest of his skin is white.

-His hair would be naturally curly, but due to improper care and the long length dragging it down, it ends up looking wavy and sometimes even straight, albeit very frizzy and/or greasy.

-In 1886, that’s when LJ and Lillian first meet (omg OC and canon??? gross 😰🤢). They create a pact, and he starts getting more positive interaction with humans. As he gets more “sustenance,” his wounds start to heal properly and he gets stronger. Unfortunately, most of his wounds have scarred over at this point and they remain on his body as it’s now recognized as “healthy” tissue. (Placement of scars will be in another post)

-Lillian is 23 when she first meets LJ.

-Before his strength improved, Lillian could actually beat LJ in an arm wrestling contest!! But after about a few months of being together, that was no longer the case. (Lillian’s ego was a little hurt, but it was inevitable 😞)

-Although it looks like it, he never actually felt starved. He doesn’t experience typical feelings like hunger or fulfillment.

-Sadly, he’ll never retain his curl pattern. Lillian tries very hard to get it back as she has her own experience with her hair, but she can never get more than a few curls on his head. She gives up at some point and just accepts his wavy/straight hair as is. LJ truly doesn’t care either way. If he had his way, he’d probably forget and never wash it again.

-the dickless look is on purpose!!! No reproductive system means no dick!! Yippee, no nsfw 🤗 Unless I feel freaky, which will most definitely happen…so if you ever see him with a dick, it’s just for my own nefarious purposes 😞

-When Lillian first found out how old LJ was, she said “wow, you could be my grandpa….” LJ didn’t take too kindly to that and scolded her like a grandpa.

-His body stopped aging once Isaac died. In this version, Isaac dies at the age of 21. LJ is physically around 5 years older than Isaac, so his physical age is stuck at around 26 (but it’s not rlly trustworthy as his body isn’t comparable to a typical human’s…I’d say it’s probably between 25-35 though)

I want to get into so much lore, but I wanna save it for when I draw a comic or something. Ty for reading if you read this far!! 💕

[littlestardude]

⏤͟͟͞͞☆Dating Kenny HCS|| Reader x Kenny McCormick

✰ - SFW & NSFW - ✰

Plot: Just sum HCS!

Note: I love Kenny McCormick so fucking much he's so pookie smookie, also first post yippee!

TW: Drugs, death bcs of drugs (its Kenny he comes back-), incest ment (concerning rats), smut HCS at the end

Gender: AFAB Gen neutral

✰ - SFW - ✰

FLIRTS NONSTOP. all day every day, he just doesn't fucking stop. But the moment you flirt back.

Bro is dead, 6 feet under, giggling and kicking his feet

Has trouble falling asleep and sometimes you'll wake up and he'll be just staring at you

"Kenny what the fuck are you doing... "

"You're so pretty... Can I not stare at my partner in the middle of the night!? :(("

Demands you cuddle him to sleep

Did I mention touchy?

Yea

Super fucking touchy

Literally has to be touching you all the time as if you we're his phone in his pocket or he'll freak out

Actually learned the value of life once you stepped in. He's died only once.

Why you ask? In his words

"I can NOT just say no to free drugs"

Drugs in question were something called... Crazy 8...basically 8 fucking drugs mixed together.

Yea he wasn't gonna survive.

Now you have to keep an eye on him, and tell him to just stick with weed

Oh yeah weed

Bro is toasted most of the time.

AND reeks of weed 24/7

Anytime you smell weed the first thought that pops into your head is, "where's Kenny? "

Basically weed is a comforting smell to you now 💀

Asked you to get high with him

You were reluctant at first but then you tried it... Let's just say it's a common occurrence now

You think he's flirty when he's sober? When he's high omfg.

Compliments like crazy, and can actually take compliments back when he's high

You adore high Kenny because he literally turns into the silliest mf alive

Super duper touchy when you're both high, like on top of each other the whole time

Piercings out the wazoo

Tattoos to come...

You let him shower at your place so he actually became CLEAN once you started dating.

Like his hair is actually touchable now, and not greasy

He's still a rat boy tho, and does dirty rat boy things

Actually HAS rats

You came over one time and he introduced you to his ratty children

"This is Frankie, and Frankie Jr, and Frankie Jr Jr, and that's Maggy, and Rosie and- FRANKLIN JR GET OFF YOUR SISTER RIGHT NOW! >:("

"Um, Ken... I don't know how to tell you this but rats dont care about incest..."

Almost cried, "it's like medieval Spain all over again... "

You pat his back, "it never gets easier... " you sighed dramatically

Loves animals, you guys wanna get a dog and cat together!

He loves you and adores you so much

He thinks you're the best person to ever come out of this cruel world, and he tells you that all the time

You also love him. So much. You think he's the prettiest, sweetest boy

You tell him that most of the time when you think he's asleep, he usually isn't because he loves hearing it

Back to the weed thing, LOVES when u guys order McDonald's when ur both high and have the munchies

Bro can throw down 2 big macs, 1 double quarter pounder, 20 piece chicken nuggets, and 2 orders of large fries and still be like

"I need something sweet... " 💀

Anytime you're out with your friends, Kenny's usually wearing his parka and you're the only one who can understand Kennish

Also holding hands the whole time

It took you awhile to get used to the fact you had a super clingy partner but you got used to it

You guys were able to get a place together eventually after high school

It's super shitty but it's home <3

You'll eventually upgrade after grueling work and endless shifts

But you definitely make time for each other

✰ - NSFW - ✰

(The fun begins *rubs hands evily together*)

SWITCH KENNY SUPREMACY!!! Literally does not mind either, as long as he's with you and he's naked? And you're naked? Bros chilling

Fucking loves oral, receiving and giving

First time he ate you out, you were on cloud mf 9, seeing stars n shit

He LOVES your thighs, like before he eats you out he just likes kissing and squeezing your thighs

HOWEVER. The first time you sucked him off. Omg, HIS thighs were MESMERIZING.

Something about boys thighs... Just seeing them pushed together, your fucking weakness.

His thighs are pale and ever so slightly plushy... Help me

KNOWS WHAT TO DO WITH HIS MF HANDS‼️

He grabs you and stimulates you in the best fucking spots

LOVES COCKWARMING. NEED I SAY LESS.

You guys will just be chilling watching a movie, and he'll just go like

"Babeeeee... " that's literally all he needs to say bcs you know what he wants.

After some time of just being on his dick it kinda hits you, "I'm on his cock, I could literally do what ever I want... " you think, evily

You'll shift your body around to where you're looking at him and he already knows what's coming, his hands are IMMEDIATELY on your hips

And you start slowly bouncing up and down

Doesn't take him long to start making noises

He's very vocal during sex, he sees no point in staying silent

Plus the first time he moaned super loud during sex you literally came on the spot.

Now he can't help but moan and whimper when you're on top of him because he knows you love it

AFTERCARE KINGG

Usually urges you two to take a shower after sex

Sometimes ends up into shower sex if the both of you still have the energy

You bought a shower stool so you both could fuck in the shower because one time he almost slipped and will NEVER live it down

"IT WAS SUPER SLIPPERY OKAY"

"You stepped on the soap babe... You almost went flying"

Yea a shower stool and those mats for the shower floor

[balletfilmss]

COWBOY LIKE ME

✸ pairing: jason grace x cowgirl!reader smau

✸ notes: this is a random ass prompt but i like it hehe 🤭 this was originally gonna be a leo one but then i found the first pic…cowboy wannabe jason it is

…now playing: our song—taylor swift

yn.ln: cuntry 🎀

tagged: j.grace

view all comments

ssmchsizzleee: JASON, SHE’S SOUTHERN AND GREEK, RUN FOR THE HILLS BROTHA 🗣️🗣️

╰┈➤ j.grace: too late 🤷‍♀️

╰┈➤ yn.ln: said the mf from TEXAS 😒

sunshinesolace: YEEHAW MOTHERFUCKERS ‼️🦅

╰┈➤ yn.ln: YEEHAW

j.grace: i think i pull of the princess cowgirl hat pretty well, if i do say so myself

╰┈➤ yn.ln: yes baby, you’re very pretty

╰┈➤ j.grace: 🤭

abchase: A WIN FOR US SOUTHERN GIRLIES 🤞🤍COWGIRL PARTIES 4EVER

╰┈➤ yn.ln: 4EVER AND EVER BETH

annabethsbf: i never wanna see a pair of boots ever again oh my fuck

╰┈➤ yn.ln: life was so much better five seconds ago before you commented this

honey.hazell: SAVE A WHO AND RIDE A WHAT

╰┈➤ annabethsbf: HAZEL NO HIDE YOUR EYES

╰┈➤ honey.hazell: WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN

╰┈➤ yn.ln: hazel…sweetie no 😭

piedpiper: still can’t believe you pulled off a rodeo themed party

╰┈➤ yn.ln: you know i love me a good theme 😋

j.grace: SOUTHERN WOMEN ARE THE HOTTEST‼️

╰┈➤ annabethsbf: AMEN TO THAT BROTHER 🗣️

…now playing: stick season—noah kahan

j.grace: if the boot fits then wear it, or something like that

tagged: yn.ln

view all comments

annabethsbf: i cannot believe my eyeballs. she turned our roman yeehawy

╰┈➤ j.grace: yippee ki yay or whatever 🤠

piedpiper: do not country-afi noah kahan jason.

╰┈➤ j.grace: why must you have a problem with every little thing 😒

╰┈➤ piedpiper: i am no man’s peace.

yn.ln: MY CUTIE COWBOY ‼️🤍

╰┈➤ j.grace: I LOVE YOU COWGIRL 🫶

╰┈➤ yn.ln: I LOVE YOU TOO 🤭

╰┈➤ ssmcshizzle: GET A ROOM 🗣️🗣️

ssmcshizzle: don’t think i forgot the time i put MY cowboy hat on your head and you swatted it away like a fly 😒

╰┈➤ j.grace: well she kissed me after she put it there so i wasn’t gonna say NO

╰┈➤ ssmcshizzle: I COUPDVE DONE THAT IF I THOUGHT IT WOJLD WORK

╰┈➤ yn.ln: LEO GET AWAY FROM MY BOYFRIEND

abchase: the boot definitely didn’t fit but it’s okay bc you tried 😇

╰┈➤ j.grace: annie you’re supposed to be supportive of the country escapades 😔

ghostboy.nico: gods, they’re multiplying

╰┈➤ yn.ln: you love us southerners, we know ☺️

╰┈➤ ghostboy.nico: unfortunately

╰┈➤ sunshinesolace: thanks babe 🤩

j.grace uploaded a story!

@ annabethsbf replied:

SHE HAS YOU SAYING YALL NOW???

shhh, quiet city boy

said the kid raised by wolves

i will bite you.

@ ssmcshizzle replied:

yo is that my hat?

probably, considering i’m wearing hers

WELL CAN I HAVE IT BACK??

🤷‍♂️

@ yn.ln replied:

omg jay you’re tarnishing my mysterious cool girl reputation

you’re as mysterious as a glass window

that’s not true

i’m hot n sexy n mysterious

2 truths 1 lie

you suck

love you too honey 😚

[cupiohearts]

I WISH YOU LOVE ! - reminiscing with gun.

(cant catch me now series). GUN VER. dg ver. goo ver

they see you everywhere. james, jonggun, joongoo. they find bits and pieces of you lying around in their pockets, their houses and memories. it depends on which one it is which scene they see you in.

for GUN, he cant figure out for the life of anyone why they would wish someone that moved on in life the best of luck. he was a selfish man. when you disappeared from him, he mutters bitterly to himself wishing curses upon your name. the tear drops on the letter you wrote to him being the symbolism behind it all.

why would he want you to do well without him? why did you have to leave him?

did you not care as much as you said you did? he furrows his eyebrow. taking another drag out of his cigarette while he watches the stupid couple on the street pick out matching items for each other.

"jonggun! jonggun! look come here! hurry up!" you hiss at him as you press your face against the glass of a window. it was the pet adoption center. a calico cat taking a nap in the window as you cood at it.

that was the ugliest cat hes ever seen. it's eyes looked a bit too similar to the one you always give him when you want him to do something ridiculous for you.

"its cute" he gruffly says. you raise an eyebrow at him and made a face "youre a big fat liar. when we grow old with joongoo and james! we should all get a cat together!"

you giggle as you wiggled your finger at the cat. your breath fogging up the glass and when you pulled away he could see a slight bit of lipgloss- or lip tint- or whatever you were wearing on your lips that left it all glossy and shimmery left on the window.

he didnt say anything about it. he probably shouldve. you left the window dirty with your makeup. the same lips he imagined himself kissing from to time.

he thinks again. gun is a selfish man. when he read the letter you gave him, he thinks to himself for a far longer period of time than what he would appreciate.

he picks up the small camera you left behind in your apartment. he kept it with him for some reason. it was to keep videos and photos of yourself so he wont forget all of the times hes had with you.

"gun stop! stop! stop- what in the world happened here?!" your voice can be heard from behind the camera. the camera work a bit shaky as you walk closer to the restaurant.

there were a lot of bodies on the floor. a lot. "did you take them all down by yourself?" you ask him. you already knew the answer. he didnt need to respond but he did "yes"

you let out a deep sigh "this was supposed to be a cute video! you just ruined it. i wanted to send my mom and dad videos of me while im still here!"

you never sent it. he almost wished you did. so your parents knew what your friends were in korea. gangsters hanging out with the most.. sane one. sane is a strong word. hed think more like you were the glue.

you held everyone together, but at the same time. you were the one keeping them in the past.

that wasnt what he thought as he read your note though.

while he reading the shaky lines with splotchy text. the tears you left on the paper made it all crumbly and the words were hard to read.

he could only wish you the worst time without him. you better not be happier than you were with him. thats how you made him feel. he felt like the vines growing around the fence around you. his growth was hindered by the boundaries you had. if you werent there, he wouldve probably never grown in the first place, but you were also the reason he couldnt get better.

even as he read the lines 'jongun, you are the one who destroyed me the most.' he felt a small smile come to his face. he really is the most selfish person he knew.

sooooo... im here. I DID THE SECONDPARTY YIPPEE 😋😋 is it messy idk

i havent proof read so im assuming its ok. if its ooc mb brother.

their personalities are hard to capture anyways live laufh love the lookism blondes <3 the hottest in the game frl

[youreobsessedwithtoomanyfandoms]

In a World of Boys, He's a Gentleman

Words: 1748

Warnings: references to cheating, name calling, probably poor writing and OOC characters but whatever

DC Masterlist Main Masterlist 1989 (TV) Event Masterlist Join My Taglist

This takes place pre Dick. Maybe little bit of being Batman? Basically Bruce is still really known as a playboy, but unlike many of my other ones here, this Brucie is a good boy and isn't gonna cheat because hell nah. I also am having that, like Bruce, Y/N had her own reputation because that just makes sense to me

Also, Y/N is also rich in her own right, which is why there are references of her and Bruce growing up together and other things like that. So yeah, yippee

The swimsuit that Y/N wears is described to be a two piece, but not that it shows skin or not so imagine that however you wish you; if you see it as a bikini or one with a top that covers everything and has bottoms basically making it a one-piece

This is the "Slut!" part of my 1989 event! You can also see this as the one for "Blank Space" since I wasn't doing one fully

Anywho, enjoy

Love Z <3

Y/N stood next to Jessica Sturwich as she talked about her husbands new investments. The sun beat down on them as they stood on the yacht that Bruce had recently begun to own. Her eyes drifted around, trying to drown out the sound of Jessica's annoyingly high pitched nasally voice.

She laughed to herself as she saw Elizabeth Bynes in, what she would describe as, a flamingo pink bikini, shamelessly flirting with Bruce. A small smile graced her lips as she saw him throw her a "help me" look.

She looked back at Jessica and gave a small, fake laugh. "I'm sorry, but I'm gonna take my leave now, Bruce is calling me over."

As she turned on her heel and made her way towards him, she tried to not let what Jessica said hit her. "Hey, it's just the guy of the week. Not like you have to do everything he asks."

All she did was turn and shoot her a sweet smile, "Why don't you tell something similar to your husband's mistresses." Before turning back and making her way to Bruce.

As she reached him, she gently grabbed his bicep and kissed his cheek before smiling at Elizabeth. "Betty! I haven't seen you in such a long time! How's your mother?"

She watched as Elizabeth's smile faded. Betty had always been her least favorite nickname, plus Y/N knew that Elizabeth knew that she had been caught.

"She's been well." She watched as Elizabeth glanced at Bruce before looking at her again. "Who knew that the two richest people in Gotham would end up together."

Y/N hummed, "It makes sense." She smiled up at Bruce, who's arm fell down to her waist, before looking back at Elizabeth, "Also helps that he's much better than the other men I've been with."

"Right...and which number is he?"

She felt the way his arm tightened around her waist before he spoke. "I think that it's more of which number she is for me." She listened to his fake laugh before he sighed, "I think that we should finish up here and head back to shore. Why don't you go locate Adam Becker, I'm sure that he'd like you by his side at his gala tonight." He started to push him and her away, "See you later."

The two of walked away, out from the sight of everyone, before she leaned her head into his chest. Small tears gathering in her eyes. She hated the words that were always said about her. Even if they weren't lies, she did go from guy to guy...person to person. But she didn't sleep with them all. Only...at most half. Many of them weren't even relationships she had wanted. They were relationships her family had put her with.

But this...this wasn't it. This was one she had wanted.

Bruce gently kissed the top of her head before mumbling against her hair. "We don't have to go tonight." He tightened the grip around her waist, "We can stay at the manor, swim in the pool under the moonlight." She smiled against his bare chest as he rubbed circles into her lower back, his thumbs occasionally toying with top of her swim bottoms. "I could tell Alfred to leave us alone and we could just...be grown adults, alone, in a big pool."

She giggled before looking up at him, "As fun was that sounds." She gently grabbed his arms from behind her, moving them in from to hold his hands. "But we promised to be there. I already told my parents to not go cause I'd be there on their behalf."

He sighed, "Well...always can do that afterwards."

"Are you trying to get me to have sex in a pool, Mr. Wayne?"

He shrugged, "Not like you've never done it before."

"You wound me."

He smiled innocently, "Nothing around about that sweetheart."

She carefully moved from him as the bell rang that they were back at the port. "I think that I will meet you at yours before the gala tonight Mr. Wayne."

He gave her a lovesick smile as she walked away, "See you tonight, Miss. Y/L/N."

--------

Y/N stood next to Bruce as he talked to Lex Luthor. She adjusted her stance every once and a while, attempting to ignore all of the eyes on her. She knew why they were there, after all, she always ended up breaking up with guys at the third gala she went to with them. This was their third.

Everyone was expecting it to happen...but it wasn't going to.

"Y'know, I was surprised to hear that you and Miss. Y/N Y/L/N were together." She turned her head back to the other man, a small smile on her face as Bruce held her tighter. "Maybe you'll be the one to tie her down."

Her smile faltered and she move uncomfortably as the words left Lex's mouth. But before she could cover her uncomfortability with an awkward joke, Bruce came in. "I don't see it as tying down as much as I see it as me possibly being someone she finds safety in."

She looked up at him with a smile, a real happy smile, as she leaned into him. He was right. For the first time in years, she felt like she could be herself with him. Be...not the dumb rich girl she had pretended to be for so long.

She had been so lost in her own world that she hadn't realized that Bruce had pulled her away from Lex and the rest of the crowd until she felt her back collide with a wall and he brought his hand to her face gently.

"You were upset. What happened?"

She sighed "People were staring."

"And?" He leaned in and kissed her, "You look so fucking gorgeous tonight, of course they're going to."

"But that's not--"

"You're all dressed up, let them stare."

She allowed her lips to form a small smile, "We're both dressed up, so I guess...I guess they might as well be looking at us."

He smirked, "Really?"

"And...I think, maybe for once, it might be worth being called a slut." She leaned in before whispering, "Or maybe I'm just drunk."

He tilted his head to the side in confusion his lips opening slightly, as if he was about to say something. But they closed before a gently smile and look fell upon his face. "Why don't we go back out there, hm?"

She smiled gently and nodded, "Okay."

--------

Y/N laughed at the front page of the newspaper as Bruce came and wrapped his arms around her. She lifted the paper for him to see and soon enough his own chuckle filled the air. "World renowned rich, billionaire, heiress, and slut; Y/N Y/L/N looks like she might have actually fallen in love with billionaire and philanthropist Bruce Wayne as she gave him this look last night at Adam Becker's charity gala. Has she really found the one or is this just her current boy of the month?" He looked down at her, "What do you say?"

She hummed, "I think that they looked at my drunk expressions and try to read my mind."

He kissed her temple before speaking, "I mean to say, you hardly had anything to drink to drink last night. What did you mean by being drunk?"

She smiled up at him, "Not from alcohol." She tilted her head to the opposite side of his, allowing her lips to ghost the shell of his ear. The words leaving her mouth before she meant to let them, her still half asleep mind not fully thinking. "I meant drunk from love."

She felt herself and him freeze, both of them processing what she had just said. The L word. Something she had contemplated saying for so long, but kept convincing herself to not to out of fear for what he would say just slipped out of her lips.

But instead of anger or him laughing at her, his lips formed a smile. "You love me?" She silently nodded and he turned her around before kissing her intensely. He pulled away, but only to put his forehead onto hers. "I love you too."

It led to her swallowing hard, "But what if it blows up in our faces...in your really pretty face?"

He shrugged, "Then it does." He kissed her gently before brushing hair from her face, "I love you so much. I was just scared that you didn't."

"And I was scared that you didn't love me."

He smiled, "I guess we're just two idiots."

She smirked slightly, "Two slutty idiots."

He laughed and nodded, "Yes, two very slutty idiots."

--------

Y/N sobbed as she held onto her stomach, trying to comfort herself. She knew she shouldn't let it affect her, but she couldn't help it. She tried to ignore the television as it played the news channel talking about Bruce with another woman last night. She sobbed, she knew Bruce. But it didn't that she knew that everyone wanted him. But she knew it was just one of those issues when someone was at the right place at the wrong time...or maybe this case it was wrong place, right time.

She barely heard the door to the bedroom click before she felt Bruce's arms wrap around her, whispering into her ear that it was okay. She sobbed into his shoulder. She didn't understand why this was hurting her in the way that it was.

"I'm so sorry baby, I tried to push her off of me before. Please believe me. I'll...I'll do anything to prove it to you."

She breathed shakily, "I believe you. I just...I don't know why this is hurting me the way it is."

He moved to gently take her head in her hands to make her look at him. "Because...this is the longest real relationship either of us have had." He brushed hair from her face, "Trust me when I say that I never want to hurt you. Not on purpose at least."

She nodded and buried her head against his shoulder as he held her tightly. She refused to let him go. Refused to let him get away from her.

She refused to let him go as it felt like he was one of the only gentlemen in a world full of boys.

[angelismmm]

☆ 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐲. ft. heizou & xiao | a sequel. ・ sypnosis. good boys get their rewards faster than naughty ones, but they just can't get enough of seeing how hot you were when you wanted them to behave, when you were angry, it just makes them want to- yeah i won't finish that sentence..

・notes. the really late sequel to my most popular post, except now featuring new characters; xiao and heizou! i'm slowly making a schedule of when to post now! so expect frequent posts from now on! ・warnings. nsfw utc, sub!character, brat tamer! reader, dom!reader, strap/dick mentioned, dacryphilia, orgasm denial, pet names like 'baby', 'whore', & 'slut' r used! come see my other works~!

⟢ 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐙𝐎𝐔, will you be a good kitty for me and take it? ・he's honestly a very friendly cat, a little too friendly. most of the time he likes to tease you. flirting with many people in front of you, obviously loves to break your rules, such a tease it isn't even funny anymore. he always wears revealing clothes around everyone else, when it's only supposed to be with you. but you know he enjoys being punished most of the time.

・him being laid over your lap, getting his ass slapped over and over again. precum even so leaking from his red, and swollen tip. slowly letting your fingers inside his ass, then steadily lifting him onto your strap/dick, moaning loudly, whimpering at every slow yet hard thrust you gave into him, hands grazed over his nipples, rolling, and pinching them, "haah! ngh so close master— p-pleasef just g-give this one to mmh— me!" heizou, trying so hard to get his release pleasing himself up and down your strap/cock. immediately you pulled out, right before he was gonna cum, trying to hold on to you, "p-please! just this one! i-i'll be-behave.. pleasepleaseplease—" he mewled out into your ear, trying to grind himself against your thigh to gain back his high, "you think you deserve this, slut? you've been doing me nothing good all week, you think you deserve my cock? my cum inside you? you think you deserve it whore?" making him look up to you as you got up from the bed, angling his face to look at you back. ・"fine, just tonight, how about you be a good kitty and take what i give you, ok?" you said, pinning him to the bedframe now, ass up, as you allign your strap/dick with his aching hole, already waiting to be drunk on your taste again. nodding hastily, agreeing to your statement. (yippee!)

⟢ 𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐔𝐒 𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎, my my, good boy gone bad, be good for just one more time! ・xiao baby, he never would do anything wrong, but he would act bratty in public because he's stubborn lol. sometimes this cutie doesn't even mean to be bad, maybe doesn't realize it :(. but he always did what he was told, at least in private. he doesn't do a lot of pda, doesn't like it that much. ・but he really needs you now, why did your boss have to move your shift to nighttime now.. ugh, nothing he can do but wait, well he does remember the vibrator he got from you, for his birthday, my, he'll never forget that day, he wants to feel like that again; ethereal. he needs you so bad, maybe this one time that he goes past your rules because you're being unfair, that you won't punish him bad. he just misses you so much, misses your cock(or strap wtv) inside him so much, he misses how you just sink onto his cock so smoothly, you feel so good to him, and vice versa. ・his only reason to end up like a cat in heat (which he is) is that he really couldn't wait, his heat got to him, pinching and rolling his nipples and the vibrator worked up inside him at the max setting, but he needed more, he needed you. but for now all he could do was imagine it was you, you doing all these dirty things to him. all he could do was hallucinate it's you, being so much so confident, he moans out your name, so much so, it echoes through the hallway of the home you both lived in, and coincidently you just came home. obviously by now, you've heard your baby calling out your name, you're hearing him so needy. "xiao? baby? you okay?" wandering up the stairs, was he okay? why is he still up at this hour, is he? no, he isn't doing that— he wouldn't betray your rules like that.. would he? "mmf—! ngh d-dont come i-in!" he said, you heard a small vibration too coming from the room, oh my, he's using the birthday gift you gave him.. his eyes closed shut, his brows knit together, "haah— s' close [name].. i need y-your cock so bad!" he screamed out, not realizing you already came inside the room, pulling out the vibrator, he looks up to your hungry gaze, as your cock immediately substituting the toy, the brutal pace him come almost immediately. ・ "oh baby, calm down— i'm here now, how about you take your punishment tomorrow, and we'll do a few more rounds, work got me quite riled up today, and you just had to be the icing ontop of the cake, huh?"

[thatguythatdrawsalot]

Blake - Atlas Design Critique.

Yippee I have more to say about character designs, this time it’s Blake’s turn with her Atlas look, there isn’t going to be a redesign but instead my OCs to prove a point. I promise next time there will be a redesign. 

RWBY Archives

This is gonna be interesting because before I can talk about Blake’s Atlas look I gotta briefly talk about Blake’s Menagerie design. This is all gonna culminate into the huge mess that is Blake’s Atlas outfit. Now this look has some meaning to it, by what it says Blake was wearing more white to hide herself, which makes sense for her arc at the time. It may look bad but the white coat had significance, when she ditches the coat and faces Adam to be in more black again it has a meaningful impact that she’s no longer running/hiding… plus the look with the white coat gone makes her look stunning! So tell me why she regressed her arc of hiding to be back in another uglier white coat to hide her ‘not dark enough purples’? It’s because the designer took the Menagerie look but made it sci-fi. They had no idea what to do for Blake other than to exemplify all the bad decisions in her previous look. Silly zippers that are reminiscent of Adam, a cat suit that’s impossible to put on and to take off, and ugly belts clamping her wrists for no good reason. 

And one other thing, why ditch the gold for silver? Wouldn’t it be nice for someone in team RWBY to wear yellow/gold? Why not the girl who’s going to be Yang’s girlfriend???

She’s the second one to freeze to death in team RWBY.

Hair

Again, I never want to direct hate towards a modeler, end of the day it’s the people who make the final decisions for the product who are at fault. When Volume 7’s poster came out nearly everyone was super excited to see Blake with short hair, it looked really cute and framed her face adorably. When the teaser/trailer for the Volume came out… everyone lost their mind at just how ugly the hair looked. False advertising at its finest. Blake’s hair was one of the ugliest examples of modeling I have ever seen in the show proper, it beats Weiss’ chunky braid. I cannot comprehend how Blake’s model got the approval with the hair alone. The hair was a droopy blanket/helmet. When they tweaked it, it still didn’t look good or even like the concept art. 

Primary Color - Black?

I’ve already mentioned that White has overtaken her color palette to regress her character development and her primary color along with purple. There is no ounce of pure Black on Blake. You can have Blake stand next to Cinder, Penny, Ruby, and Yang and they’ll have more Black than her. They try to compensate for the lack of Black with her GRAY hair, and Blake’s INDIGO catsuit. 

It’s ridiculous how the showrunners turn the B for Team RWBY into the representation of the color purple/white than BLACK. Are they afraid of having Blake be a black blob on screen? The reason she had limited black in the past looks was because of her long hair, but she cut it! Put as much black as you want now! Actual black! Stop overdoing white and purple. The black I used was from a direct screenshot of Blake in the DC movie, one where she had on her old outfit that represented her color and looked good- Positives?

I think Blake tops Weiss’ Atlas outfit cause I really can’t think of anything positive to say. If there was a lack of zippers and the concept of Blake was regulated to being a background character rather than a main character, the outfit could stand on its own. Or just MAYBE this would’ve been a better look for Ilia. It can be better for any other character than for Blake. I can just imagine Blake’s excuse for wearing this being “It looked better in the picture.”

Bonus Round - Ghira and Kali

You can skip this and go to the conclusion if you want, this is just me talking about how much I dislike the ‘Spitting Image Of Parent’ trope in fiction, as this always nagged me about Blake, Ghira, and Kali’s design. Alright so I don’t mind Blake being a cat faunus, I just hate the uncreative reason as to how she became a cat faunus, this was a trait inherited by her mother. Kali is a cat faunus. In the World Of Remnant series, an episode dedicated to the Faunus had a rundown that if two faunus’ of the same kind had a kid together, it’d be the same faunus. If two faunus’ were completely different, their child would be completely random. Kali is a cat, and Ghira is a panther, both felines technically but they really couldn’t just make her parents be human/faunus? They instead just increased the odds of Blake being a cat than something else or even her parents? They made her parents similar… a little too similar. Blake’s parents read to me as brother/sister by just how similar their colors and appearance are. It feels like two artists were tasked with making a mom and dad but didn’t communicate with one another on traits Blake could inherit from the other. I appreciate that they made Kali tanner with better-looking animated cat ears but seriously they start with black hair, yellow eyes, and end with a color palette being black/purple.

I don’t understand how Yang and Ren’s parents can feel like parents with their appearance but then drop the ball for Blake’s. It isn’t that hard, up above are my OCs; John and Penelope Ironwood aka James’ parents. You can argue that I made John be a spitting image of James but at least I TRIED. I had James inherit his mother’s navy eyes and curly hair. Whenever I draw/color James I just mix John and Penelope’s skin tones to make it James’ skin color. I tried to make them look like independent characters who could look like James’ parents but still unique. Conclusion

I don’t think anyone at RT can make Blake stunning, I hope Viz Media gives Blake a good outfit.

From the teaser image it looks like Blake is wearing black, only downside is the gold piercings. I like the idea of gold piercings but my god she looks way too much like her mother… and I really don’t like that trope.

However I’m gonna keep having my hope be alive for character designs than the story. Out of team RWBY I’m most excited to see Blake’s looks, if she looks awful for the final season I’m going to cry-

But of course, it’s just my opinion. If you love this design or hate the design, please share your opinion. I’d love to hear it! :D

[puffyducks]

DCRC Week #6

It's time to read PKNA #3: Day of the Cold Sun! Yippee woohoo yahoo this is a good one!!! Also the last one that got printed in English :(

Genuinely what the fuck is he wearing here. How to look inconspicuous step 1: dress in bright neon green. Step 2: wear some kind of weird top hat jester combo??? A top hat with little dangly bells on it??? Like yeah Raider SHOULD be arrested just for putting this fit together. I don't know who your tailor is but I suggest you sue.

Camera 9 finally gets the recognition he deserves, he's been carrying this entire series as far as I'm concerned. Way to go little dude!

NNOOOOOOOOOOOOOO NEVERMIND 💀 I HATE IT HERE

I love angry fucked up robo strength Lyla, defend him he's done nothing wrong!!! EVEN THO YOU WIPED HIS FUCKING FOOTAGE-

TWO ANGUS FANGUS????? MY NIGHTMARES ARE COMING TRUE

Did he just pull up at her apartment window 😭 He knows where she lives????

clucklehead.... I'm really gonna miss these goofy ass insults from the official translation

cop moment 💀💀💀

Raider I'm literally begging you to ditch Fangus in the neolithic period, you'd be doing us all a huge favor

oh. that's PROBABLY not good- Also somebody please buy Donald some brown contacts I'm literally begging

2017? I thought it was the 90s... actually you know what ELSE takes place in 2017? Have you heard of Disney's Duckta-

Fuck... she saw through our master plan of stuffing Donald in a duffel bag and putting on a Spirit Halloween mask

I have no idea who this reporter is but she ate and left no crumbs. kinda gagged tbh

The way Camera 9 is just watching from the corner 😭

AND CAMERA 9 STAY WINNING BITCH 💯 THAT'S WHAT IT'S ALL ABOUT

I think this chapter is excellent, my only complaint is that it has quite a few twists and turns and can be kinda confusing on first read. I had a GREAT time reading through it again though, it's an incredibly interesting story. I do feel bad for Lyla about being kept in the dark by the time police, who were gonna fucking SCRAP HER which is just mean. Also shoutout to the Raider for going to time jail AGAIN, I'm sure he'll definitely stay locked up this time guys! He's not going anywhere I promise!!!

This is also my open letter to IDW to please please continue printing these comics in English. The people weren't ready in 2016 but they're ready now, I swear. I'll buy 10,000 copies if I have to. We can start a campaign you guys, I believe in the power of me and the like 20 other American PK fans on here. WE HAVE TO AT LEAST GET THEM TO PRINT THE NEXT ISSUE MAN IT'S LITERALLY ONE OF MY FAVORITES-

Anyways, see you guys next week when we read Earthquake which I'll be super normal about. Buhbye!

[rupertsfangirl]

Ron Weasley Imagine-Comforts you after a rough day at work (Smut)

Disclosure: Spanking, oral (female & male receiving), Probably missing sum but idk.

Summary: You have a long and rough day at work and your doting husband Ron takes care of you when you get home (IYKYK). 

Word count:2.5k

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Ron Weasley

Note: HOLY HELL I APOLOGIZE! I know I released the original all fluff version like weeks ago but the holidays came around and then my birthday and a bunch of other things but anyway I’m back for now (hehe). I am starting school up again but I should have a bunch of free time due to most of my classes being extracurricular ones since I took college courses to do the other classes early (Yippee for me). Anyway I really hope you enjoy it. I know I had fun writing it even though it took me like a million years. I do plan on making a twins one but I kinda need to rewrite it cuz I accidentally set it in a time period making them underaged sooo yea gotta redo that, oopsies. 

Ron stood in the doorway and let his blue eyes trace your figure. 

“You look beautiful.” You blushed at his compliment. 

“Well today is important.” He walked up next to you and took the necklace you planned to wear off the desk. He placed it around your neck while you lifted your hair allowing him to clasp it together. 

“Perfect,” he whispered, placing his hands on your waist from behind. You smile as you put your matching earrings in. 

“Alright, I'm ready.”

“Do you have everything prepared?”

“Yes, it's all in my organizer.”

“Well then don’t forget you are amazing and you’ve got this, go get’em.” You hug him feeling a surge of extra confidence from his words. You walk out of the room and down the stairs to the fireplace, Ron trailing behind you. He presses a kiss onto your forehead. While stepping into the fireplace you grab a palm full of floo powder,

“Ministry of Magic.” You watch as Ron disappears behind the flames and the ministry's black brick walls appear. You start towards the conference room feeling the sweat on your palms, you take a deep breath and reassure yourself. 

“You got this.” You step into the room first, as you expected. You begin to set up your presentation; it was an important one because it would allow your department to expand and potentially lead to a promotion for yourself. Once everyone had arrived you began the presentation. You glided through with ease feeling quite cool and collected the whole time. Why had you been so nervous before, you thought of Ron’s words and smiled internally. After the presentation you were feeling pretty good about it. You left the room and started back toward your office however you heard a few of the wizards and witches who had been in the room talking badly about your presentation. It made you upset and questioned whether you had hallucinated that you were so calm while presenting. You tried to shake it off but remained in a funk the rest of the day. And add that you were behind on just about everything due to being understaffed, it was a combination of all the things that made you overwhelmed. 

You had stayed about 3 hours overtime and got home later than you planned; but even still the second you got home Ron was there to greet you. He took your bag, giving you a kiss while grabbing it, and placed it on the couch. 

“How was work?” You only groan in response. “That bad sweetheart?” You nod and place your head onto his shoulder letting out a big sigh. Ron tries comforting you by rubbing your back and holding your head. 

“Why don’t you get out of those clothes and we can just relax.” 

“Alright,” you say, grabbing your bag and heading upstairs to change into something comfy. You take your hair out of the tight bun it's been in all day and fling off the narrow pumps your feet were squished into; sitting down you take out your earrings and necklace. 

Suddenly Ron shouts from downstairs, “I have a surprise for you!” You can’t help but feel excited using a spell to quickly and cleanly remove your makeup. You make your way back downstairs to see a table set with two plates of delicious looking food, candles, and glasses of the good stuff (nice wine). Ron looks pleased with himself and you can’t help but feel like you drooled a bit when you saw the food. 

“Oh my goodness, what did I do to deserve you?” You give him a tight hug and you both sit to eat. You tell him all about the rough day you had and he shows all his emotions on his face like he usually did: anger when you told him about the people who talked bad about you, worry when you told him about all the work you have, and excitement when you told him that you still felt the presentation went well. Then he told you all about the day he had at work which was usually light hearted as he co-managed the joke emporium with his brother George. He always managed to make you laugh with something crazy that happened. You guys finished eating and took the plates to the kitchen placing them in the sink then Ron used a spell to start washing them. 

“What do you feel up to, darling: a bath, a movie, or maybe me?” You giggled at his proposal and rubbed your finger on your chin pretending to think really hard. 

“Hmm, what about a massage; my back and feet are killing me.” 

“I can make that happen.” He had placed his hands on your shoulders and squeezed them lightly. “Go up to the room, I’ll meet you up there.” 

“Okay.” You head up the stairs and into the room, you lie face down on the bed placing your head into your arms. Ron walks in a minute or so after with a bottle of oil. 

“Well you have to take off your shirt,” he chuckled while giving you a knowing look. You roll your eyes at him making sure to face away from him while removing your shirt. You quickly lay back down on the bed and soon after Ron drips the warm oil onto your back instantly soothing you. He begins to glide his hands along the sides of your back to your shoulders where he puts pressure and squeezes causing you to let out soft moans. 

“You have magic hands Ronnie,” you mumble jokingly. He chuckles quietly and continues to massage the knots out of your shoulders. He then slowly moves his hands down to your lower back and using his thumbs he presses into it and moves out slowly; you gasp lightly feeling loose and calm. 

“Did that feel good?” You nod into the bed and he smiles feeling happy he can please you. Ron’s rough yet gentle hands rubbing from your neck, to your shoulders, to your tailbone. You feel as though you're on a cloud and you allow your mind to wonder. You sense his fingers slip into your pants, slowly pulling them down; you think about telling him off but it’s been awhile since you two had been sexually intimate, so you let him continue. His hands caressing your ass; starting from the bottom of your cheeks and squeezing while sliding up. He pulled the spandex waistband of your underwear letting it slap back down onto your waist and swiftly slapping your ass making you tremble. While sliding your pants off all the way, his hand came down a second time leaving you a shade redder. 

He smirked at his ability to make you squirm and leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Ass up.” You bite your lip, abiding his demand, getting on your knees and arching your back to lift your backside into the air. He ran his thumb under the trim of your underwear, lifting it and planting another slap on your cheek; you jump, letting out a slight squeal. 

A pleased grin spread on his face, “You’re so wet for me.” Placing the pad of his finger on the forming wet circle, beginning to rub it; the friction of the fabric against your entrance causing a moan to escape your lips. His fingers traced over your lips gradually moving inwards towards your more sensitive areas; slowly working up the pressure but keeping the same pace. 

“Your hands really are magic.” 

“That's not all that's magic,” a sly smile forming on lips. He roughly pulled off your underwear revealing just how wet you really were. His tongue gently skimming your thigh until slowly reaching your vagina. You softly call out his name as he draws circles and places kisses; soon after pushing his tongue into you. Sultry breaths and rough hands accompanied by a soft tongue brought a rising heat. Contrasting with the coldness of his fingertips as they explored your legs before placing another slap on your ass, pulling a whine from your throat. His mouth hovered just above your clit, placing gentle kisses around the hood and releasing light slow breaths onto it, making you ache for his tongue on your clit. Your hips seemed to take control attempting to move closer to his mouth; prompting Ron to plant another slap on your already rosy cheek. 

“You have to be patient,” he tutted before treating your ass to several quick slaps. The sensations drawing out sounds you were unaware you could make. 

“Please,” you whine.

 He smirks into your skin and shakes his head, “But I love watching you beg.” His finger trailed from the top of your vulva to the bottom; his breath still seemingly rubbing your clitoral hood. As his finger was just to touch your clit he pulled away skipping over the area then continued down. Every time he did this you whined and squirmed, craving his finger pads on your deprived clit. Everything seemed to be in slow motion, the feeling of Ron’s muggy breath and his coarse hands that knew all the spots to make you scream. 

“Ronnie, I-” 

“You're close, I know.” His voice trailed as he put his tongue back to work making you moan at the sudden warm stimulation. He slowly licked up to your clit and finally allowed it some love. Your voice filled the room and you could feel your climax on the tip of your tongue as could he (literally). You felt as if you were filling up until it spilled over, spreading throughout your body making you shiver and moan Ron’s name. Your legs become wobbly and weak causing you to fall flat back onto the bed. Ron flipped you onto your back and wiped your watery eyes. 

“How does my princess feel? Can she take another round?” his hands rubbing your cheeks and head. You felt all the warmth from his body next to yours. You turn your head to face him and biting your lip you nod. He smiles, “We can take a break.” Suddenly you feel a surge of energy from the very last remnants of your orgasm; quickly you straddle Ron who looks shocked but also extremely turned on. You slide his pants down slowly with his boxers in tow, revealing his hard cock. 

“It's so perfect. Perfect for me.” You place a kiss on the head, Ron smiles as his cheeks turn a light red. You slide down his legs to make it easier for your mouth to reach. You reached for the oil on the floor and put a bit on your hand. Placing your hand he twitched at the temperature change. You gripped the center and began slowly moving up and down placing kisses along the side. 

“Sorry it's cold.” He only mumbled under his breath in response. Your other hand made its way to his balls cupping them and beginning to massage them. Dragging your tongue across the head you heard Ron let out stifled moans, using his hand to cover his mouth. His eyes locked with yours, he seemed nervous but you maintained the contact seemingly making him more sensitive. You smile to yourself as you continue to navigate your tongue around his sensitive head, licking up a bit of precum in the process. 

“Does that feel good?” You watched as he brought his hand to grab the back of your head; he lightly tugged your hair letting you know he liked what you were doing. “You need to use your words darling,” you whisper smugly. Using his arm to cover his eyes he mumbled, “Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes it feels good.” His whines and reactions to your hand and tongue only tempting you to mess him up further; but you want to take your time teasing him until he can’t hold it. You start to quicken your pace as you feel Ron getting closer from his expressive voice and face as well as the abundance of precum flowing from him. His hand gripped to your hair hard pushing himself deeper into your mouth just as he came. You felt it slide down your throat as you swallowed, wiping some from the corner of your lip. You continued to run your hand up and down as he was feeling out the final traces of his climax. “If i’m magic you must be mythical,” he huffed catching his breath. You laughed a bit at his joke and crawled up to his chest laying your head on him. 

“I guess I must be.” He stroked the back of your head while planting kisses. Your hand remained on his penis, idly rubbing it through which you felt it regain the stiffness it had just moments ago. You slid back down so that his penis was against your stomach. 

“I thought you were tired. And yet here you are taking charge,” He chuckled while sliding a hand on your waist. 

“You’ve invigorated me.” You practically beam with confidence; giving him a sly look, you sit up on your knees to guide his dick inside. Placing your hands on his chest you began to roll your hips, looking at his pleasure stained face. You leaned over pressing your lips to his. His fingers snaking to your hair and pulling you away from his lips leaving a trail of saliva. You had stopped moving, catching your breath from his sudden aggression. His hips started to entertain you with small thrusts making you moan. Releasing your hair, he sat up keeping you in his lap. Pressing your foreheads together you breathe heavily into him soon after your lips are locked with his once again. The kiss is deep and messy matching his hip movements; you can feel him getting closer. He quickly flips you onto your back, catching you by surprise. You look upon his face, admiring him: his heavy breath, the way he looks at you, it makes you squirm a little. You move your hand to stimulate your clit as Ron drags his tongue against your neck, making you shiver. Both yours and Ron’s bodies were nearing their limit. A warm and powerful sensation began to overtake your body until it suddenly burst and felt like a wave crashing and soon after dissipating back into the ocean. At the same time you could hear and see Ron climaxing with you. You felt him fill you up and then fall next to you both of you catching your breaths. Ron turns his head to face you, pushing your head to face him.

“Your brilliant-” you glare a bit, “-and beautiful” he whispers quickly as he caresses your cheek. You smile leaning into his hand, your whole face a bit red. Bringing yourself closer to him you lay your head on his chest, allowing you to hear his fast beating heart. 

“I think I’ll take tomorrow off.” you chuckle. Looking up you give him a suggestive look, he seems to blush but it's hard to tell as his face is all a pinkish red. 

“Y…yeah maybe you should.” He slides his hand down the back of your hair as he speaks, while trying to avoid eye contact. 

“You're cute.”

“And you're perfect.”

[pochipop]

＃OVERWATCH !! ♡ — EVEN WHEN I DOUBT YOU (PHARAH (FAREEHA) X READER).

#. synopsis! — fareeha gets called to action, but you really can't handle seeing her go tonight .

#. characters! — pharah .

#. warnings! — explicit representations of a verbal argument .

#. word count! — 2.7k.

#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw), @hhoneypop (moodboards) .

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

#. a/n! — break from uni yippee, happy holidays!! big crush on pharah rn, really need her to kiss me ngl .

She’s leaving again. You’ve hardly seen her these past few months as she’s been called to arms over and over and over, and you’re teetering on the edge of decay. It’s like a shot to the heart each time she goes away again, long nights of losing sleep and biting your nails down to the quick, worrying and wondering about whether you’ll ever see her face once more. And even when you do, the thought of her inevitably having to go and fight and struggle to stay alive seeps its way into your thoughts like a virus, corrupting all the happiness and bliss you should feel in your girlfriend’s embrace.

Fareeha isn’t the born soldier everyone (including herself, at some points)makes her out to be. She wasn’t brought onto this Earth to save lives and protect others, even at the expense of her own safety (and your sanity.) It’s the life she chose against her mother’s wishes, against all the warnings she received, and all the pushes she was given to use her talents in other places. Sometimes, you can’t help but wish she would have listened to their advice. Maybe then you wouldn’t be pacing back and forth in the bedroom of the quaint apartment you share with her, —though most wouldn’t know it. It’s filled with your belongings, and it’s home to you. . . But Fareeha’s things go to Overwatch HQ, and they seldom return, left to rot in her locker until she inevitably throws them away.

The bed doesn’t smell like her anymore, and what few clothes remain in the closet hang untouched in the closet like they’re preparing to be sold and not worn. You hear her sigh deeply through the crack in the door, light spilling in from the hallway that leads directly into the living room. There, Fareeha shifts her weight from one foot to the other, her phone pressed to her ear. She hasn’t officially told you that she’s leaving soon, —but you knew the moment her phone rang and she stopped kissing you to roll over and take it that it wouldn’t be long.

Tears prick at your eyes. She’d only gotten back a few days ago, —days that she spent working on reports, instead of falling into the arms of her lover; and now they were taking her away again. It’s times like this when you kick yourself the most for falling for someone like her. Sure, she made it easy enough, with her pretty face and charming wit, and all the times she disappeared just to come back and kiss it better. . . But the pattern was stale now. Your heart was wearing thin.

So the moment she stepped back into the bedroom with an apologetic look on her face, opening her mouth to say what she always does; ‘I’m sorry, angel, I know it’s sudden, but duty calls,’ you quiver a little and shake your head, causing her to clam up entirely.

“That’s it then?” You question after taking a few seconds to collect yourself and swallow the sob threatening to work its way up your throat. “You’re leaving again? And what I think, what I say, what I feel. . . None of that matters?”

Fareeha looks stunned. It’s not like you to break down like this at all. For as long as she’s known you, she’s found that you’ve been stronger about her leaving than she is. But there is something distinctly different about this moment, and you know she can feel the way it weighs heavily enough to suffocate you both.

“Of course it matters,” she replies. “You matter. But this isn’t just about you, or me. . . You have to remember that the world doesn’t revolve around us. There are much bigger things at stake.”

“You promised,” you choke out pathetically. “You promised it wouldn’t be like this when you came back.”

“I know, I know,” Fareeha sighs deeply.

You can tell this is having just as much of an impact on her, but that she’s doing a better job of hiding it this time around.

“I’m sorry. I really am. But I have to go. . . You understand that, right?”

“No,” you shake your head defiantly. “I don’t understand. Not anymore.”

“Baby, please,” she steps a little closer, cupping your cheek in the palm of her hand, “don’t make this any harder than it already is.”

You brush her hand away a bit callously, but the last thing you want is to be touched by her right now. Ten minutes ago, before the call, before she stumbled out of the bedroom to take it, before the world came crashing down again; it was all you wanted. . . But now, her fingers felt like burning coals against your skin.

“It has to be as hard as I’m making it,” you answer. “All the things I’ve sacrificed to be with you, —leaving so much of my old life behind, making changes just to suit your needs, all the shit I’ve forfeited and missed out on to move here and be with you, to get left behind everytime Overwatch wants something from you. I’ve supported every decision you’ve made for yourself, every alteration we’ve had to make together, but I’m tired. I feel worthless to you.”

Maybe it isn’t exactly the right time to rattle all of that off, but God, it was bound to happen at some point with how much you’d been bottling up. Especially after these last few months, caught up in this endless cycle of hurt and misfortune.

“You are not worthless to me,” Fareeha states firmly. “Not at all.”

And you believe her. You know she loves you, and that she does the best she can on any given day, but this downtrodden adrenaline rush has your heart pin pricked, and all you want to do is curl up somewhere and waste away until she comes back home again. If she comes back home again.

“Then don’t go,” you utter, and it sounds almost like a whimper. “Please, Fareeha.”

“Y/n. . .”

Your heart sinks lower. She seldom says your name, and never in that tone unless she knows she’s about to disappoint you.

“Please,” you repeat, a little stronger this time.

“You know what kind of life I live,” she says. “Sometimes, the work I do requires me to leave, and go, and be alone for a while, —and it’s not because I want to. It’s because this is what I have to do. It’s what I’ve been trained for. And I’m sorry that I can’t just sit around and wait for you to be okay with that. I really am. But please don’t take this personally. It’s just something I have to do.”

“It’s been three days,” you say. “You haven’t even been back for a week yet, and they want to ship you off somewhere else?”

“They don’t control when or where disaster strikes,” she reminds you.

“No, they don’t but they sure as hell control who gets called to go fix it,” you argue. “They have a roster full of soldiers, and they can’t give you a week to yourself? A week to be home with the people you love?”

“You’re frustrated, and I understand why. It frustrates me too, believe me. . . But I’m good at what I do, y/n,” she says in earnest.

“I know that,” you answer. “The world knows that. But I can’t keep doing this with you, Fareeha.”

Her face falls. It’s hard to see her look so dejected when you’re used to the bright way she smiles, but what you said was nothing short of the truth. This has been eating you alive for so long, and these last few months have been a dangerous tipping point. Being stuck at home while she fights on the frontlines of every battle they can’t seem to win without her has left you riddled with anxiety, a constant reminder that your lover is unsafe and might not even make it back to you in one piece. It lives in your bones like it’s stuffed into the marrow.

“Please don’t say that,” she says in a voice just above a whisper.

“I can’t do it,” you shake your head, looking anywhere but her eyes as tears begin to trickle down your cheeks. “You leave, and I worry so much that it consumes me. Then you come back, and I feel like I can breathe again, but it’s so shortlived that it might as well not have even happened in the first place. They can’t even wait for your bruises to disappear before they put you out there again.”

“I’m fine, baby,” she urges. “Look at me? Aren’t I perfectly okay?”

She gestures to her strong body as if that’s supposed to make her point for her.

“No,” you shake your head. “You’re not. Do you really think I can’t tell that you’re tired? That you’re exhausted?”

“Of course I am,” Fareeha relents, “but that’s just the way life goes sometimes. I’m a soldier. This is what I am. It’s what I have to do, —it’s all I know.”

You want to offer a rebuttal, but your voice dies in the back of your throat. It’s not that you want to deny her the thing she’s worked at for so long. . . It’s just that this isn’t good for anyone. Not for you and your fragile feelings, and especially not for her. Not when you could feel the weariness in every move she’s made since coming back, and certainly not when they’d promised her a break weeks in advance, only to call her back the very second something went wrong.

“I just need some time to focus on this mission,” she continues. “I’ll make this up to you. I promise.”

“You promised last time too,” you remind her bluntly. “And the time before that.”

“I know,” Fareeha admits. “And I’m sorry that I haven’t been able to keep them. But this time, I’ll make sure things are different. Just let me do what needs to be done, and when I get back, I’ll do everything in my power to make this right. You can have me all to yourself. Please. . . Stay.”

“You stay. If you leave tonight, I won’t sleep, I won’t be able to think straight until you’re home again, I. . . Not tonight. Please, just this one time Fareeha, don’t let them run you into ruins. Put yourself first.” 

“I’m sorry,” she shakes her head, “but I just don’t have that kind of luxury. If I don’t go tonight, I’ll never be able to forgive myself if something goes wrong out there.”

“And what if something happens to you?”

“It won’t,” she insists. “Don’t I always come back to you? Aren’t I always okay?” She questions. 

“Up until this point, sure,” you acknowledge. “But all it takes is one time. One thing going wrong. One missed step because you’re overworked and tired. That’s all it takes for me to lose you, and that terrifies me.”

“Have some faith in my abilities, would you please? I’ve trained for almost my entire life to fill the shoes I do now, —to be a soldier that everyone can rely on! This is what my life’s efforts have been for!” She exclaims.

“And you’ve already done enough for your lifetime and a few hundred others,” you answer. “I’m proud of you, Fareeha. I’m proud of everything you’ve accomplished, of everything you’ve achieved, —but I’m asking you, for once in your life, to think about something other than your job. If you can’t be bothered to put yourself first, then think about everything you’d be leaving behind. . . Your family, your friends. . . Me. . .”

“My work is important,” she says firmly. “It’s part of who I am. This isn’t up for discussion or debate.”

“I’m not asking you to give it up, I’m asking you to take a break,” you reply. “If you want to be a soldier until they force you from the frontlines, then so be it. But right now, I’m fucking begging you to not leave here tonight.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Fareeha insists. “You know that. . . But please don’t do this.”

That sob you forced down before works its way back up.

“Please,” she repeats, “you’ve always known. . .”

She doesn’t finish that sentence, but you know what she’s implying: that you’ve always known what you were getting into. And that’s true. But more than that, you also know she’s been working herself to the bone, and she’s in no condition to be fighting for anyone else at this point.

You lean in to kiss her, even against your better judgement.

“Stay safe, Pharah,” you mumble against her lips.

“Don’t call me that,” she shakes her head, her hands finding their way to your cheeks again. “Not now.”

“I’ll call you what you are to me,” you answer softly. “A soldier.”

“Don’t,” she chokes out. “I’m your girlfriend. Don’t say that to me.”

“Then listen to me, as someone you love, —as someone you know loves you, and don’t go tonight. Stay here. Let me take care of you,” you plead with her.

“I can’t do that,” she whispers. “I have a duty—”

You cut her off without thinking.

“It’s not always your responsibility to fix all the things that go wrong in the world!” You shout. 

She stops to stare at you in something that looks like a mixture of horror and desperate realization. . . Like no one has ever said anything like that to her before.

“Please,” you plead with her, voice softening. “Please, Fareeha. Let someone else take the burden for once. You don’t have to shoulder all the weight in the world every single time someone needs something.”

She searches your eyes with her own, —beautiful and dark brown, but simmering with conflict. The struggle between what she feels is right for her to do as a soldier and the desire to follow your wishes is palpable, even as the room is shrouded in conflict, both spoken and unspoken alike.

“I love you,” you continue, voice lowering again, barely above a whisper now. “I can’t bear the thought of something happening to you. You deserve to rest and to let someone else handle things, just this once.”

For a moment, you can see it in her eyes that she wants to give in, and you feel a surge of newfound hope at the idea that your words might have finally reached the logician inside her. But then she shakes her head and averts her gaze to the floor.

“I wish things were that simple,” she replies. “I wish that I could stay here and hold you. . . But I can’t ignore my responsibilities. People depend on me.” 

You understand the depth of her commitment. It’s admirable, even. But you also know that she really shouldn’t be pushing her own limits under these circumstances.

“I depend on you too, Fareeha.”

“That’s. . . That’s different,” she says, clearly torn.

“You have a duty to yourself and to us,” you add. “Not just to the battlefield. Please, let this fall to someone else tonight. They can deal with it without you, just this one time.”

She hesitates visibly, a battle of emotions at play behind her irises. The breath she lets out next is shaky and uncertain, but she meets your gaze with a sense of vulnerability that you’ve never seen before.

“Alright,” she concedes. “I’ll call back and tell them I’m not fit for the mission.”

Relief floods through your veins like ice water, and you hug her tightly, savoring the warmth and the firmness of her muscles around you.

“Thank you,” you mumble gratefully against the heated skin of her neck.

She pulls back slightly, looking into your eyes with a soft smile.

“I love you,” she tells you honestly.

You return her smile, understanding not only the weight of her duties and the life she’s built, but appreciating the strength it’s taken for her to step away from it all for a bit, even if it won’t last long.

“I love you too, Fareeha,” you murmur. “More than I can say.”

And in the quiet moment that follows, she finds herself thinking that choosing you tonight has been a victory within itself.