#should i be proofreading these more

[nomazee]

"Ranpo. I'm falling asleep, man."

Your complaints are met with Ranpo's own disgruntled mumbles pressed into the damp skin of your neck. "Don't call me man. I'm trying to kiss you and that's what I get?"

"Trying to kiss me while I'm trying to sleep. Can you wait for the morning?"

Apparently, he can't, because he stays in his position on top of you. Every line of his body is pressed into yours as his arms stay wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you in and keeping you locked. You don't hate this, truthfully, but you are falling asleep. The only thing keeping you awake is your annoying partner who you love but also want to kick out of the bed for the night.

Ranpo trails innocent open-mouthed kisses along the soft part beneath your jawline before moving up to the corner of your mouth. He sighs a content little hum into your skin and you have to fight back a shiver. He's awfully good at this. You know he's not trying to do any more than kissing—he never does when you're both bone tired and swaddled in bed—but his incessant gestures are inching you more and more to full consciousness and you really need to get a full seven hours of sleep tonight.

"I need it," he tells you, earnest in the way he always is when the exhaustion starts to make his clever brain fuzzy. He's always a little more mushy with you past eleven PM, words and thoughts and actions slurring into one barely cohesive jumble. "Just a little. Won’t you do it for me? 'Cause you love me 'nd all."

He needs it. Good god. He’s gonna kill you with that one day.

Whatever smart response bubbling on your tongue immediately fizzes out when he covers your lips with his own. Hot and slow breaths puff between the both of you as he moves his mouth against yours in slow, pliant motions. You're far too weak for him and far too awake now, so you let him take you apart just for a moment, just to take the edge off his spontaneous neediness.

"Yeah, sure. Love you and whatever," you manage to squeeze out between his perpetual line of kisses, now spanning across your lips and to your cheek and the spot right beneath your eye, close enough to let you feel the way his soft breaths flutter against your eyelashes.

"One more," he tells you—but it's more like he's telling himself. Like a goal, a promise, a self-fulfilled prophecy. "Just one. M'kay? Then you can fall asleep all early like you're a senior citizen."

"This senior citizen is letting you kiss them, baby. Don't complain."

And, oh, isn't it such a delight, hearing the way his breaths turn shaky for just a second after the nickname leaves your mouth. Every time you call him baby he goes shaky and bashful, too embarrassed to say anything smart. It’s his weak point and you’re too addicted to be good about it.

“If you wake me up early,” you tell him, finally able to pry his face away from yours with the help of a firm hand cupping his cheek, “I’ll make you breakfast. And you can kiss me again. I’ll even walk to the store and get that good jam that you like.”

“You’re a good bargainer.”

“Comes with the job. Will you let me go to bed now?”

He makes a contemplative noise, a hum that buzzes through your fingertips from where you hold his face. “I said one more, right?”

Indeed he did. With a sigh, you let him press a big stupid kiss on your lips, complete with an obnoxiously loud mwah! sound effect from him that you roll your eyes at. What a man-child.

(You still walk to the store for him in the morning. You’re weak at heart, really.)

[saetoshi]

sae, surprisingly, is very fond of sleeping in.

it’s the reason he always clings to you when you sit up to get out of bed.

it is also the reason you’re late for your morning class.

“sae.” you frown, “let go.”

he groans, tightening his grip around your waist.

“sae.” you sigh, “i need to get ready.”

he blearily opens his eyes to glare up at you. “jus’ stay.”

“i can’t,” you try to wriggle out of his arms, “and you can’t, either.”

he makes a face.

“you’re gonna be late for practice.”

“‘s our day off.” he shifts closer to you.

“sae,” you whine, “i have class.”

“no.”

“what do you mean no?” you bury your face in your hands.

“i mean,” he lifts his head up to squint at you, “just don’t go.”

you stare at him. he stares (he’s still squinting) back.

you huff, “you’re a horrible influence.”

“you knew that before we started dating,” he yawns, “you don’t get to complain.”

“you do this every time you don’t have practice.”

“i don’t force you to stay,” he trails off.

there’s a beat of silence. sae’s breathing evens out as his eyes close, soft snores leaving his lips.

you look at him. he doesn’t move. you slowly remove his arms from your waist, careful to not wake him up.

you’ve got one leg out of bed before you’re yanked back.

“sae!” you groan.

“where’re you going?” he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you against him.

you try to pry him off, “i thought you were sleeping!”

“you were gonna leave me while i slept?” he clicks his tongue.

“and people say i’m the mean one.” you can hear the shit-eating grin on his face.

“you’re meaner than me!” you laugh.

he doesn’t say anything. (not that he could defend himself even if he wanted to.) you would’ve thought he fell asleep again if he hadn’t tightened his grip around you when you tried scooting off the bed.

you fondly shake your head when you hear his muffled laughter and feel his arms shaking.

“stop trying to leave.” he sits up, resting his head on your shoulder.

“you’re already late anyway,” you can feel his smile against your skin, “might as well just stay here with me.”

you roll your eyes. he had a point. you are late, and even if you hurried to get changed you’d still arrive at class around the time it’s ended. (you’re not telling him, though. his head is big enough as is.)

“i guess i could stay,” you sigh, “i’ll just ask someone for the lecture notes.”

as soon as those words leave your lips sae flops back on the bed, pulling you along with him.

“you’re the stubbornest person i’ve ever met,” he nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck.

“shut up, you’re worse,” you yawn.

there’s a beat of silence.

“just go sleep already,” he huffs, “i’ve been awake long enough trying to get you to stay.”

“don’t expect this to happen again,” your eyes droop.

“you always say that,” he hums, his eyes drifting closed and a yawn leaving his lips, “yet you stay.”

[jooba]

wolfman x reader

"Imagine getting the great news that you're one of a million civilians chosen to go to a distant planet, to intermingle with the local aliens. Unfortunately, your online friend doesn't exactly seem to like that idea."

TW: MDNI, reader referred to as 'girl', sexual desires, anxiety, neurodivergent reader, reader big dumb, licking, 'virgin' reader, hand appreciation

wordcount: 2,388

Three words: Civilian Space Program. The most incredible opportunity of a lifetime (for an average Joe like you).

One word: Congratulations! The letter you held in your shaking hands almost didn’t seem real. It was glossy, professional, and signed by someone so important that it was a 100% probability that you would never breathe the same air as them. Congratulations! But it was real, and your life would never be the same. You were going to space. To meet aliens. Your poor little heart almost couldn’t take it. Breath labored, you quickly snapped a picture of the letter before posting it to all of your socials. Quickly, friends and family bombarded you with questions and excitement, just as in disbelief as you are. Several phone calls later, and plenty of assurances to those with concerns, you fell back onto your couch, still clutching the letter. In just a month, you would be boarding a vessel with 14 other civilians, shipped off to the planet Geron 6GI, and left there for 3 years to “create relations” and “cultivate a human lifestyle”. Whatever that means. All you knew was that you… were a monsterfucker… and… well… aliens are sort of like monsters too. 

In your elation, you nearly missed the newest comment on your Instagram post. It was Peter, an online friend whom you had known for years. It simply said, “call me.” Peter knew about the program and how badly you wanted to be in it, but he was pretty adamant that your chances were too low. Smiling, you dialed his number. He answered on the first ring, speaking before you had a chance to.

“This is serious? You’re serious?” 

“Of course! I’m freaking out, Peter. I’m going to SPACE. I’m going to fuck so many aliens, you don't even know. Well, you do know, but-”

“You’re leaving in a month?” He asked. You kicked your legs in glee, squealing. 

“Yep! 3 years in space and depending on how the program goes it might go on for longer. God, should I bring my toys? Do you think they’ll even be allowed on the flight? But what if the aliens have toys that I can buy…” Your breath hitched just at the thought. There was silence on his end for a few moments.

“You’re a virgin.” Cheeks turning red, you scoffed into your phone.

“So what?” 

“So you’re giving yourself away to some random alien?” He hissed the word lowly, talking in a manner you had never heard from him before. You take a second to collect your thoughts, not understanding where his aggression is coming from.

“Peter… we live in the 21st century. Virginity is a stupid construct. Besides, I uh... I’m not really a virgin, you know.” 

“What?” 

“Ugh, can we not talk about this? So embarrassing…” You mumble, turning to a more comfortable position on the couch. There was silence as both of you struggled with what to say next. It wasn’t like you were actually embarrassed talking about sexual things, but Peter had a way of making your stomach flutter. It was awful having a mini crush on someone online, and even worse when he insisted on hearing all the details of your life. All the details. 

“I’m going to come see you.” He said, sighing into the phone. You froze, blinking in surprise. The two of you had never met in real life before, you’ve never even seen a picture of him! Sometimes, you would discuss meeting, but he lived a long flight away and schedules never seemed to work out. Over time, the thought of seeing him in person became too daunting, and you always shot him down. What if he thought you were too ugly to be friends with? What if the two of you couldn’t get along in person, and he lost interest? 

“A-are you sure, Peter?” You could hear the smile in his voice as he responded. 

“Of course.”

You stood nervously in the airport, shifting back and forth. People kept glancing at you, giving you curious glances. Avoiding eyes with an old troll whose beard desperately needed maintenance, you wiped the sweat from your face with your sleeve. Maybe you’d be less nervous if you had brought a friend with you to pick up Peter… Your phone buzzed with a text. 

landing now

You watch as the terminal quickly fills up with tired travelers. Eyes swiping back and forth from person to person, you attempt to pick out a man to match Peter’s description of himself. But his description was so vague, all you really knew was that apparently he was tall and had brown hair. 

Someone bumps into you, and your phone clatters to the ground. They quickly apologize but scurry away too quickly for you to get a good look at them. Grumbling, you bend down to pick up your phone, dusting it off and checking for cracks. When your eyes lift, your heart explodes in surprise at the wolfman standing before you. Hot! Inner you squeals. Standing nearly two heads taller than you, he’s lean and dressed very cleanly. Chestnut-colored fur streaks around his cheeks and neck, speckled with darker colors around his hairline and dipping underneath his shirt. Black eyes peer at you, squinting slightly.

“Oh, um. Hi!” You laugh nervously, tugging at your hair. “Just dropped my phone.” You wave your phone in front of you, but then quickly tuck it away when you realize how dumb you probably looked. The wolfman’s mouth slowly curls up into a predatory smile, top lip slightly gaped to allow for pointy fangs to peek through. 

“You’re cute,” he says quietly, eyes appraising your figure. You have to desperately ignore the urge to cover yourself from his evaluating gaze. You laugh weakly.

“T-thanks.” You give him a small smile. The two of you stare at each other for a moment. He hikes his backpack up over his shoulders, raising one eyebrow at you. Does he want something from you…? Oh god. Despite his good looks, it’s not the best time to be flirting with someone: not when you’re waiting for Peter. 

“I’m sorry. I’m.. uh… picking up a friend. Sorry.” You glance away from him, pretending to search the crowd for Peter. Why is he taking so long?

The wolfman grumbles with quiet laughter, almost a mixture of a purr and low-pitched whine. It's a rather charming sound. Suddenly, his clawed hand is on your scalp, rubbing against your hair to mess it up. He tugs certain strands this way and that, causing an absolute mess. You gasp, pulling away, quickly attempting to fix the mess he just made. 

“You’re even denser in person than I thought you would be,” he says, looking extremely satisfied at your misery. His ears twitch slightly. You pause, squinting up at him in irritation.

“Well, that’s rude. And please don’t touch my hair, I don’t know you.” You take a step back away from him in caution just to be safe. 

The wolfman huffs, rolling his eyes slowly. “That’s the thing. You do know me.” He pulls his phone out, and types onto it quickly, before looking at you expectantly. Your phone buzzes. A message from Peter. 

right in front of you. so dense.

You can’t quiet the gasp that leaves your mouth in time. You gape up at him, astonished.

“You never told me you were a wolfman!?!” 

Heart racing, you bring your knuckle up to your mouth and light chew on a finger. All these years, all the calls and long talks and he never thought to mention his species?! Oh god, you have said so many embarrassing things to him: things you would never say to a non-human. Things about giant monster cocks and clawed hands and fluffy sensitive ears and oh my GOD. You swear heat is steaming out of your ears with how embarrassed you are. 

“Didn’t think it mattered,” he shrugs. He reaches up to lightly scratch at one fluffy ear, maintaining eye contact with you. It twitches at his touch, apparently sensitive. You want to coo and squeal at how cute it is, but you restrain, just barely. Gnawing on your finger, you avert your eyes. You must not look at the handsome wolfman. Must resist. Must get Peter home without drowning in your drool…

One car ride home, hours of gentle ribbing and teasing, a desperate call to the nearest fast food joint, and a change into pajamas later, you find yourself sitting on your couch, a bowl of popcorn in hand, waiting patiently for Peter to join you. He’s taking a long time in the bathroom, but you’re not too worried. It seemed your apartment was a bit too small for him, and he was constantly ducking his head and squeezing past your furniture. Admittedly, it was really charming. You can’t help but shovel popcorn into your face as you wait. You can’t wait too long, otherwise the popcorn will get stale! In the middle of licking your fingers free from butter and salt, Peter plops down next to you. You slide down the couch and end up sitting right against you. He wraps an arm around you on the couch, hands already playing with your hair. He’s dressed in loose pajama pants and a t-shirt that says ‘You are fang-tastic!’ in faded letters.

“Really couldn’t wait for me, huh.” You smile in embarrassment, pulling your fingers out of your mouth. His dark eyes quickly zero in on your glistening fingers. Grimacing, you go to wipe them on your pants, but his hand wraps around your wrist before you can. You immediately notice how much bigger his hand is than yours, and how fur wraps around his knuckles but his fingers and palm are bare. 

“Let me,” he purrs, eyes drooping into half lids. He opens his mouth and a long, pink tongue rolls out. It’s rounded at the end and fades into a slight purple the further back it gets. You’re instantly drawn to it and watch in stunned silence as he brings your fingers up to his mouth. He licks a long stripe up your fingers before twisting and turning them to lap at every inch. Quickly, your fingers become drenched in hot saliva. You clench your thighs, wishing he would put that tongue somewhere else… A soft noise leaves you, and he meets your eyes again. You mentally berate yourself for having dirty thoughts about your friend. He nips gently at your pointer finger. You squeak and pull your hand away, face certainly red. You hold your hand to your chest limply, now drenched in saliva. You blink at him, words caught in your throat.

“Mmm… tastes good.” Right. Good popcorn. Ha ha… ha… The TV blares and the two of you startle at the noise. Peter is quick to grab the remote and mute it. He watches the quiet television for a moment, throat bobbing.

“Let’s talk for a moment, space girl.” His voice is almost... uncertain. You grin unabashedly at the nickname, pleased. It immediately calms you down and you find yourself relaxing.

“Sure!” You place the popcorn down and turn on the couch, facing him directly. He turns to face you as well, one leg crossing over the other. The arm around the back of the couch begins to tap on the cushion.

“Just let me talk for a moment, no interruptions, okay?” He raises an eyebrow when you open your mouth to respond, and you huff, but stay quiet.

“Honestly, I thought I was being pretty straightforward with you all this time, but with this space fiasco, I knew you weren’t exactly getting the message. Had to talk to you face-to-face. I’ll make this short and sweet, easy to understand. I don’t want you going to space.” He raises one hand when you look like you are about to object. Breathing deeply, he continues.

“Don’t go to space. Stay here. I’ll give you all the monster cock you want, promise… I’m not usually one to wait so long, but I knew during our first call I would have to take it slow with you. I’ve been biding my time all these years, slowly getting to know you, waiting for my chance. And then I saw your post. When I saw that, it left me ‘peterified’.” He chuffs at his joke, pleased. 

“So yeah, I’ve got feelings for you. And a lot of them revolve around ramming my cock down your throat. Or god, knotting you,” he sighs wistfully as he speaks. He looks like he wants to say more, but stops himself. 

.

.

.

Ho….ly…. SHIT! You’re frozen on the spot, mind racing with a thousand dirty thoughts. You’ve dreamt of this moment, dreamt of a monster desiring you. And now…now you’re presented with an opportunity. 

“F-forget space! Oh my god. Peter? Peter!” You’re squealing now, your body shaking with excitement. You stand up and begin pacing, not even really aware of what you’re doing. Peter relaxes on the couch, mouth tilted up in a sly smile.

“This is crazy. Are you serious? He’s serious. I-I need to shave! And prep! Oh god, I don’t know if I’m ready for this…” You bite at your finger nervously, the beginnings of nausea twisting your stomach. Who knew that aching and wanting something for so long would have you feeling so sick?

Peter tugs at your hand, slowing your pacing. 

“You’re getting ahead of yourself, you nut. Just breathe.” He breathes in deeply, and you copy him instinctually. He guides your breath into something much slower, much more manageable. You smile at him gratefully, falling onto the couch. 

“Sorry, this is just… a lot,” you sigh out. He shakes his head. 

“Not at all. Just take it easy.” He nudges your knee with his. “Just think about it, yeah?” You nudge him back, eyes twinkling.

“So, all this time you’ve…” you question. He simply nods his head.

“But you didn’t even know what I looked like?” You're surprised when his face starts to turn a gentle shade of red. He coughs into his fist, looking away. He speaks, in a cool tone that doesn’t match his cheeks, “Yeah, I knew right from the start. Your looks are just a plus.” 

Aaand now you’re looking away, embarrassed. 

“Oh, okay,” you mumble. 

[hopinglylost3214]

I don't just want to know all your tickle spots. I also want to know how to tickle you.

I want to know the spots where I can just slowly tickle you, my fingers just grazing your skin, to make you squeal.

I want to know the spots where I have to be a bit rough, where I have to knead, squeeze, and dig, to make you explode in laughter.

I want to know the words and the tone to say those words to make you flustered.

Even if it tickles a lot, you're going to help me find all these out, right?

[sirkuwibs]

Eddsworld phase hit me once again, real hard

And who did I draw? Tord, of course it was Tord

[mizukiprsk]

Heat levels with MORE MORE JUMP!, WONDERLANDS x SHOWTIME and 25-ji de, Nightcord de.

(i thought i had already made something like this, but i can't find? so here goes i guess)

Heat source: Airi, Mizuki, Emu, TSUKASA Average heat(switch): Mafuyu, NENE, Minori, Haruka Heat seeker: Shizuku, Ena, KANADE, RUI

EXTRA:

Kusanagi Nene

Nene is the true heat switch. There is days that she can barely be near you, claiming you emit too much heat. And other days she is snuggling next to you, like a cat seeking the heater's warmth

"Uh? didn't you say I'm too warm?" "That was yesterday. Today's colder"

Hinomori Shizuku

Now, Shizuku is kind of cheating here. She is technically a switch, but since physical touch is one of her main love languages, she might claim that she is just cold to be closer to you.

"You are so warm~" "Are you really cold?"

Kamishiro Rui

It can be a little surprising that Rui is actually cold most of the time. Since he is tall, you could think he has lots of body heat, but since he is usually stuck working on his machines, his body might forget to reheating itself, sometimes.

"-woah! Your hands are very cold!" "Oh, are they? Could you help me warming them, then?~"

[xenon-demon]

I... have no idea what this is. No that's a lie I know exactly what this is, it's 2.6k of a Frozen AU with Steve as Elsa and Robin as Anna that I wrote in a fugue state after seeing a friend's production of Frozen: The Musical tonight. I have several WIPs I'm supposed to be working on and this is exactly none of them. Bone apple teeth. (Also I'm genuinely unsure if my usual crew of beloved enablers would even WANT to be tagged in this so... for now I'm not doing a taglist, and if I write any more of this AU I'll do one next time 😂)

“Steve!”

At the sound of his name, the Prince — now King, and boy is Robin going to take a while to get used to that — turns his head towards her. Seeing it's Robin, Steve gives his apologies to whatever noble he was talking to and steps away from their conversation. He makes his way over to Robin in just a few short strides, but his eyes flick back and forth between Robin and her new... well. She doesn't really want to think about what Eddie now is to her. In any case, she can already see a questioning frown start to brew on Steve's face, meaning this will be a much harder sell than she expected.

“Robin!” Steve exclaims, his gaze almost immediately sliding over to Eddie and giving him a once-over. He sounds markedly more subdued when he continues, “I see you've... made a friend.”

“Well, I wouldn't say a friend exactly!” Robin laughs, shrill and stilted, and gives Eddie's arm a pointed squeeze when he doesn't immediately join in. Getting the hint, Eddie finally starts laughing along. Hopefully Steve didn't notice her hinting, since she's had her arm wrapped around Eddie's since before she even called him over.

Steve raises an eyebrow at her, and shit does she need to keep this moving.

“This,” Robin announces, using the hand that's not around Eddie's arm to do a quick flourish in the direction of his face, “is Prince Edward of the Kingdom of Forest-Upon-Hills. We met at the ball tonight.”

“It's an absolute pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty,” says Eddie, trying his best to show the proper respect and bow as he does so. Robin's death grip on his arm prevents him from getting very far.

“Likewise,” Steve replies, sounding incredibly skeptical of this whole conversation. He then shoots Robin a look, which, rude, but also entirely warranted given what she's about to ask him.

Steeling herself, Robin begins to say, “Prince Edward and I-”

“Just Eddie is fine,” Eddie interrupts her, leaning in a little bit closer to her as he whispers. He's got terrible volume control, however, so she wouldn't know it was meant to be a whisper if she hadn't spent the past two hours talking to him.

“Not one for formalities, Prince Eddie?” Steve asks, the weight of his gaze finally leaving Robin's shoulders for a moment. God, she often wishes her brother was easier to read, but never as strongly as she does right now.

Eddie, meanwhile, straightens up so quickly it's like he's been electrocuted.

“Uh, not particularly, no. They grate on me,” Eddie says. He pauses for a moment, and Robin can see the deliberation on his face before he adds, “Your Majesty.”

“I'm not one for formalities either, Prince Eddie,” Steve says. His mouth twitches into a very small smile. “I prefer Steve.”

There's a pause, then, where Steve and Eddie are locked into some strange stare-down, while Robin looks on in vague exasperation. She's pretty sure she could strip naked and swing from the chandelier in the center of the ballroom and neither of them would take any notice of her. She's about to intervene, actually, because they really do not have time for whatever this is, when Eddie miraculously breaks the spell himself. He blinks a bit, looking away from Steve and back to Robin, face significantly more flushed than it was a minute ago.

“I believe you were saying something to K- to Steve, Princess?” Eddie asks, just about tripping over Steve's new title on instinct before catching himself.

Robin just barely restrains herself from rolling her eyes. She really is the bravest, most long-suffering warrior in all of Hawkins.

Putting her brave face back on, Robin turns to her brother and says, “Yes I was, thank you Eddie, I was saying that Prince Eddie and I-” and here she falters, because Steve looks back at her and meets her gaze. She swallows, trying to be subtle, and looks very pointedly at Steve's forehead instead of his eyes. She can't do this if she's looking him in the eye.

She takes another half second to compose herself, then rips the band-aid off.

“Prince Eddie and I seek your blessing for our marriage.”

“Excuse me?” Steve says, more like demands, almost choking on nothing. Robin's never seen her brother this off-kilter in her life. He doesn't even try to compose himself at  all before he says, “Robin, can I speak to you for a moment? Alone?”

Robin swallows guiltily, knowing he'll see straight through her if she agrees.

“No. Anything you want to say to me, you can say to both of us,” Robin says, and how her voice stays steady, she doesn't even know. It probably helps that she's still not looking Steve in the eye.

“Robin- I don't-” Steve interrupts himself to run his gloved hands down his face. He pauses for a moment, face completely covered by his hands, and takes a deep sigh. When he removes his hands and starts speaking again, his voice is measured. Calm. Deadly.

“Rob, you can't marry a man you just met,” Steve states. The word man falls heavy off his tongue, and Robin knew she would regret coming out as a lesbian, she just didn't think it would be like this. Squaring herself up for the best performance of her life, Robin begins her improvised speech full of bullshit to convince her brother to let her do this.

Before she can, however, Eddie chimes in with, "You can if it's true love." Steve doesn't even spare Eddie a glance, but his frown does deepen significantly. Shit.

“Steve,” Robin begins, trying very hard to stay calm, “Eddie and I have a connection unlike any I've ever felt before. I lo-love him”—shit, she could feel the bile rising in the back of her throat saying that, and judging by the almost-imperceptible twitch in Steve's eye, he knows too—“and I think it's time I start giving back to the Kingdom of Hawkins.”

“Giving back?” Steve asks, and fuck he's folding his arms across his chest now. “How exactly is this giving back to the kingdom? What you're doing is running headfirst into the first bad decision you can find.”

”I'm a bad decision?” Eddie asks. Both Robin and Steve ignore him.

“No, Steve, I'm giving back by giving the kingdom a new celebration to look forward to after your coronation,” Robin hisses. “A royal wedding is another opportunity to open the castle gates and bring the kingdom together-”

“Absolutely not,” Steve snaps, interrupting her. “We are not opening up the castle gates again for a long time.”

“Why not, Steve?” Robin snaps back. “Tonight's been great for the kingdom's morale, it's been great for you to see people and actually socialize-”

“You have no idea what's good for me, Robin,” Steve says, making her stop dead. It hurts, hearing Steve say that like it's obvious and she's stupid for not knowing it already. What hurts more is that it’s true.

Once it's clear Robin won't keep talking, Steve continues, “You asked for my blessing, and I do not give it. I don't approve of this, and if you're doing this in some misguided attempt to make me happy- quite frankly you've gone insane if you think this would make me happy.”

With that, he turns to walk away.

Okay, sure, she has no idea what Steve's whole deal is or why he's always shutting her out, but Robin is sure she knows what will help.

Sure, part of this crazy scheme is the vague idea that if Robin has a picture-perfect capable-of-bearing-children partnership, then Steve will be under less pressure himself to marry someone who can produce an heir. Maybe, with less scrutiny on his personal choices, he'll learn to relax and open up more over time. That idea falls apart pretty quickly, however, as the thought of producing an heir with a man - even one as fun to talk to as Eddie - makes her want to gouge her own eyes out. No, the real reasoning behind Robin's (admittedly insane) plan to marry someone she met two hours ago at her brother's coronation is so she has an ironclad reason for Steve to open the gates again. Sure, ideally it would've been a woman who caught her eye tonight, but she can't be picky. Robin doesn't meet anyone, especially with the castle locked up like it always is, and she has yet to think of something other than a wedding that would convince Steve to open the gates. Then Eddie came along, laughing and flirting (she thinks, at least; Robin's tried to black that part out) and professing his undying true love to her, and this was the best opportunity she was ever going to get.

And she has to convince her brother to open the gates again. Steve's been thriving tonight. He clearly loves the thrum of people, all of them dancing and laughing and enjoying themselves, and he's slowly coming out of his shell with every conversation he has with their subjects. Robin's spent more time talking to her brother tonight than she has in a long, long time. Too long for her to try to quantify it without crying.

Watching her brother turn away from her, the promise of a relationship with him going forward about to slip through her fingers, she knows she has to do something.

“Steve, wait-” Robin says, reaching out for Steve. She grabs him by the hand, feeling the soft cotton of the white gloves he always, always wears.

“Enough, Robin,” Steve says, not even looking back as he yanks his hand out of her grip. She's trying to hold on, though, so she's left holding his glove as Steve pulls his now-bare hand away from her. God, how upsetting is it that it's been years since she saw the back of her own brother's hands?

Steve swears, then, under his breath. Robin almost doesn't hear it; almost.

“Robin, give me my glove.” Steve's not asking; he's demanding. Robin can work with this.

“Not unless you talk to me about why you won't open the gates. Look at how tonight went, it's been so good for you-”

“This isn't up for debate, Robin, give me my glove,” and Steve reaches for it then, but Robin quickly holds the glove up high above her head before he can grab it.

“Why isn't it up for debate? Why do you isolate yourself all the time?” Robin's almost dancing now, twisting and turning as she tries to keep the glove away from Steve's grabbing hands. It doesn't help that he's taller than her, but she's more agile than people think, especially since Steve's in full coronation regalia right now. The material's stiff as a board at the best of times.

“You wouldn't understand, just give me the- ugh!” Steve's stopped trying to grab the glove, instead trying to restrain her and make it easier to grab.

“Maybe I would understand if you'd talk to me instead of shutting me out all the time-” Steve's almost got her in a headlock, but Robin ducks out from underneath it and quickly steps away and out of Steve's reach.

“Robin, that's enough!” Steve shouts, and then several things happen consecutively.

Steve reaches out towards Robin with his right hand, the one missing the glove.

Robin thinks she's going crazy, but- what look like snowflakes shoot out from Steve's hand where he's reached for her.

The crowd, most of whom had turned to look at Steve's shout, gasp, almost in unison.

“I- Steve-” Robin says, not quite sure where to start with the -- actually quite sizable -- pile of snow now on the ballroom floor.

“No,” Steve gasps, and Robin's never heard her brother so distraught. It makes something keen inside her, the sheer anguish in his voice. “No, no no no, this can't be happening, this can't-” Steve reaches up to pull at this hair, but more snow and ice shoots out from his hand as soon as it's pointing towards the ceiling. He flinches away from his own hand, sheer terror on his face, but with every movement Steve makes more and more snow and ice surrounds him. Within a few seconds, there's a wind picking up as well, and it's like a snowstorm is starting to form right there in the castle dining room.

The crowd, originally shocked into silence, starts to move again. Robin hears screaming, people running, shouting from the guards about an evacuation plan, but it's all faint and distorted like she's underwater. All she can focus on right now is Steve, the way his terror is only worsening by the moment.

“Steve, let me help you,” Robin calls over the roar of the crowd and the storm, taking a few steps towards him. She needs to get his attention before getting closer, the last thing she wants to do right now is startle him.

“Stay away from me!” Steve yells, holding up his hands in an instinctive 'stay back' gesture. Yet more ice shoots out towards Robin as he does so. “I’m not safe!”

“I don't care! You're my brother!” Robin shouts back, but Steve doesn't seem to hear her. He's looking down at his hands in horror, then at the waist-high line of ice between the two of them.

Robin somehow knows what he's going to do the moment before he does it.

“Steve!” Robin screams, breaking into a run. Steve's faster than her, always has been, so he makes it to the doors of the ballroom well before she can catch him. It also helps that people, even the guards posted at the doors, part to make room for him whenever he draws near. Seeing Steve push open the ballroom doors just enough to slip through them, Robin yells again, “Steve! Stop!”

“Princess Robin!” Someone crashes into Robin then, nearly sending the two of them flying. (Robin mentally thanks whatever God there may be that she wore pants and not a dress.) After regaining her footing, Robin looks at her assailant to find- oh, it's that guy. The Duke of one of their main trading partners, Tommy something. Haggard? Halfwit? Yeah, something like that.

“Princess Robin,” Tommy Hapless says, bending over with one hand on his knees and the other holding Robin's elbow as he catches his breath. God, Robin does not have time for this. “Princess, you can't- we need guidance. We need someone to... to lead us while the King is... indisposed.”

“I really don't have time for this,” Robin snaps, brushing his hand off her elbow. “Steve's my brother, I have to find him before he gets hurt!”

“I don't think... he's the one who'll be getting hurt,” Tommy Hanger-On says between gasps, quietly, but not so quiet Robin doesn't hear. She makes a point to stomp on his toes as she stalks off towards Eddie, who is doing his best to help people follow the evacuation advice. He looks faintly queasy, and very much like he would rather be literally anywhere else, but he's actually doing a pretty good job of guiding people where the guards want them.

Eddie doesn't notice her coming, so he jumps when Robin grabs him by the shoulder. She turns him around to face her, then grabs him by the other shoulder as well so she's looking him right in the eyes.

“I need to find Steve,” Robin says, not waiting for Eddie to finish whatever question he's opened his mouth to ask before continuing, “Can you take care of the kingdom until we get back?”

Eddie goes pale instantly. “What? I can't-”

“You're a prince, right? I know Forest-Upon-Hills is a pretty small kingdom, but how different can Hawkins really be?” Eddie doesn't look reassured, but Robin cares very little about that right now. She claps him on both shoulders in what she hopes is an encouraging gesture.

She grabs Eddie's hand and thrusts it up into the air, shouting, “Prince Eddie is in charge until I return!”

She then drops his hand before turning and running out into the night, ignoring the chaos behind her and the faint sounds of Eddie's confused protests.

Nothing matters to her now except for finding Steve.

[seth-burroughs]

I think we as a fandom don't talk enough about how Seth:

Took bribes from the Nail Man, a serial killer in exchange for allowing him to keep murdering people -- said killer ended up killing 3 people (while they were 4 victims, one of them belonged to the copycat) in the span of 6 months(?). But I'm able to excuse everything the Priest has done, free my man, however...

It was rather strongly implied he (and the other peacekeepers affiliated) had a hand in the whole "Jiei being called to the Clocktower for a quote unquote emergency" trap, picking an innocent man to frame as the Nail Man and either put him on death row or in prison for life, so they could sweep the case under the rug and be done with it.

EXCEPT. After his arrest, he says this: "To speed this case along, we need to quickly deal with that Nail Man we arrested. We should even consider... a public execution."

WHAT are saying

In what time are we living. Is this the medieval ages. Is this the 1400s. This has to be one of the most barbaric sentences I heard a peacekeeper say in Master Detective Archives: Rain Code by Spike Chunsoft. Can he even do that? Would Yomi allow this

He just picked a random man, and didn't even want to lethal injection him privately, he was preparing the damn scaffold so that he could subject the whole district to his legendary beef with that guy in particular, because fuck him I guess. Was that personal? Did Jiei drive his mother of a cliff before the story and this is his carefully planned revenge after decades of suffering in silence

There was LITERALLY NO REASON for him to do this. It was not securing his Evil Plan, not anymore convenient than a private execution, or anything. It was simply Seth's whimsical urge of getting to fulfill his Monokuma fantasy after all these years of severe disrespect

Conclusion: that guy was OUT for BLOOD the sheer MALICE evident in his gay little eyes easily matches Yomi Hellsmile and they should fight to the death for the title of Kanai Ward's Top Cunt

[becauseplot]

thinking about archivists again. below the cut: obscene amounts of brainrot in the form of a long-winded relationship study and oddly specific references to canon that may or may not be accurate

im trying to come up with some sort of au for them (writer's block and creative burnout is a BITCH it's okay though we stay silly) and there's just something about how qphil and qcellbit don't (or didn't) really wind up in each other's circles often. sure they were friendly with each other in passing, and they definitely had some nice little interactions earlier on: cellbit briefly interviewing phil on one of his first days on the island over a cup of coffee and solidifying phil's view of cellbit as the Dedicated Investigator; phil asking cellbit to babysit chayanne and tallulah while he's away on a trip and cellbit being more than happy to; phil briefly checking in with cellbit --- who was in the process of tumbling into his regret arc, cutting off ties with loved ones and making himself a martyr --- and asking if he was okay when phil spotted him hanging alone in the back of the group; chatting about the upcoming wedding and phil advising cellbit that he and roier should probably introduce some sort of dress code (lmao); cellbit watching phil and missa meet up for the first time in months on the way to the federation's people-freezers and all of the pieces rapidly falling into place (the name of phil's waystone, phil's skull backpack, phil's elusive "husband," ohhhhhhh...). they've always been in each other's peripheral, but never directly involved in each other's personal lives.

until the happy pills.

see the thing about archivists is that they're not drawn together by a pre-existing friendship; they're more friendly acquaintances at this point, perhaps almost-friends, though they're certainly not close. but then forever's life is under threat, and god, they both love forever immensely. with direct help from bad and indirect help from others (qpac you LEGEND), they're eventually able to formulate a plan that successfully drag forever out from under the haze of drugs, pull him to the surface. they sit next to each other as they sit at the bedside of their mutual friend, watch him breathing, and try to breathe themselves.

and from that moment on it's solidified: they know they can depend on each other, when shit hits the fan. they have their respective strengths, and they balance out each other nicely. i wish i had gotten more of a chance to watch their dynamic during purgatory 1 (unfortunately i have a life sadge) but from what i saw, they turned out to be some pretty good co-leaders, and an interesting dynamic at that: phil acting more as a support role (moral support, resource support, combat support, ALL the support) and stepping up into a leader-like role when needed, but ultimately letting cellbit take the helm a lot of the time since he's a strategist with more practice managing large groups of people (i wont get into it here, and i want to watch more vods so i can more properly analyze them but HOUGHH i have THOUGHTS!! SO MANY!!!)

what im trying to get at is that they were initially in the peripheral in each others lives but were eventually drawn together out of necessity, due to circumstances. the mutual respect followed, which was then followed by trust, and then collaboration, and then friendship. i've also made this post talking about their dynamic, how they both understand each other's need to focus on the here and now and understand that they don't need to know every little thing about each other to still trust each other. and this is so integral to their relationship. it's what makes archivists archivists.

so now all that's left for me to do is try to come up with some sort of au i can chuck them in, incorporating this idea of "friendship of necessity" as a core feature of the plot. i have scattered ideas but none are particularly appealing or solid enough. i will try though!! if u have any suggestions/thoughts/ideas feel free to leave a comment or say in tags (pspsppsps come brainrot with meeee)

[spellmage]

Relationships: The Dark Urge/Enver Gortash

Summary: During a rare quiet night when both of them should be working on nefarious plans to overthrow the city (and then the world), Gortash suggests a game of chess to lighten the mood. It does exactly the opposite.

[espritmuse]

Undercity boss Sevika x Piltover princess reader

Fucking delicious.

The first time you both met was during a non-threatening attack at piltover by the district of Zaun. It was supposed to be fast, as simple as it can be — she was supposed to break into a grand banquet hosted by your father to steal important pieces of valuable information. Everything was going according to plan, or at least, at the very beginning.

Before her lustful eyes landed on you. God, how sweet you looked that night. Such a charming and delicate creature you were. Is this what piltover was hiding from her all this time?

And you noticed her as well. Maybe it was because she couldn’t keep her eyes off you for the entire night or perhaps because you desired her as much as she desired you. She embodied all of what your parents always prohibited you — so you gave it in.

But the night wasn’t really what Sevika predicted.

Oh, of course you both ended up fucking in your bed, bare chest touching each other’s, erratic respiration and sweet moans feeling the warm air of the room but, surprisingly — she stayed there. A hand caressing your upper back, her lips gently kissing your forehead. She stayed a little more than she was supposed to, a little more than she should have. Way more than she usually does.

You spent the entire night talking. About your dreams, mostly. But also about meaningless matters. The brilliant stars in the moonlit sky, which she barely sees, whose magnificence you tend to overlook. The fresh air, the aroma of flowers, the scars on her skin, the scars on yours.

It took her months after that, to come back to you. You shattered her limits, the ones she puts around herself. Love is a weakness. But god, it felt so good, to be loved. 

[clewis]

Chapter 1 — Cleo

Title: The Ocean's Call Relationship: Cleo/Lewis Chapters: 1/? Summary: It’s never been easy for Cleo to find balance between being a mermaid and a normal girl; still, when she ran away into the ocean, she wasn’t planning on disappearing forever. But as the burden of everything that was going wrong in her life weighed on her, she finally decided to answer the ocean’s call, leaving everything behind: her problems, her family, her friends, the boy she was still painfully in love with… her whole life. But could there be something more behind her decision? And how will the people she left behind deal with the pain and guilt they will inevitably have to face? Friendships will be put to the test as Lewis, Emma, and Rikki's lives shatter before their eyes. They will do anything to find Cleo and bring her back, but will they be able to find a lost mermaid in the vastness of the ocean?

Here's the first chapter of my canon-divergence fic taking place during the events of 2x25 "Sea Change"! Hope you enjoy 💙

[bucketinyourwalls]

Body Guard!Postal 4 Dude x Reader

WARNINGS: Slight angst, mentions of a gunshot and stab wound, blood, OOC Dude (I’m far too dumb to get his personality right), rushed and shit writing

Word Count: 1449

A/N: It’s been a good while since I’ve written anything so I’m sorry if this turns out to be shit. And thanks to @strawbrygashez for inspiring me to take a stab at writing fanfiction again so I can write about two old people in love <3. And as an add-on, gonna have this take place after the events of Postal 4, primarily since I’m too lazy to look up the lore and try to remember everything about this game past Tuesday.

“Come in.”

You stared at the door as you heard a knock, assuming it was the new bodyguard your boss had sent you. You were due for a meeting with one of the people you work with in a few days, so your boss figured you’d need a bodyguard. She knows you’re able to fight and defend yourself if all goes to shit, but you’re getting up in age and figured extra help would be nice. Besides, having a bodyguard would be nice. At least for this job.

But with those thoughts finishing up, you saw a man enter your office. And to say the least, he looked like shit. Guy was in a purple bathrobe of all things and may as well just be wearing pajamas. And... are those socks with sandals?? But eh, whatever. Maybe this guy will be better aside from his appearance and god awful smell.

“I’m assuming you’re the bodyguard my boss hired?” You stared at him as you spoke, carefully studying the man as he sat down.

“Uh, yeah. That’s me, I guess.” He responded while glancing around the place, seemingly bored. And honestly, you don’t blame him. The place wasn’t too interesting, nor was the job. And for a man of his age from what little scraps of information you’ve gotten, the work would better be suited for someone younger. Or just someone with an actual interest.

“Mm, yep. Say, aren’t you just a tad too old to be working jobs like these? Or are you just doing this for fun while in retirement?” You continued staring at him while speaking, with the man quiet for a few seconds before laughing. “Man, you’re kind of funny. If that’s the case, wouldn’t you be too old for this kind of shit as well-?” He asked while looking at you, crossing his arms and seemingly enjoying the interaction between you two.

“Ah, I wish. That would be so damn good to just get some rest...“ You softly smiled at his words while thinking, but quickly returned to a more serious demeanor. “So, ‘Postal Dude’, right? Man, your parents must have hated you for that to be your legal name. And as an extra note, couldn’t you have come in something just a bit more professional? Plus, you smell like shit.” You kept examining him while questioning, wondering just why he had to come here dressed like that. What the hell does your boss see in this guy?

“Eh, don’t care much. Just here for some quick cash. And yeah, guess my parents really did. But eh, at least the names a bit funny.”

With his answer you just sighed, getting up from your desk and placing a hand on his shoulder as you headed towards your door. “It’s almost lunch, so I’ll be going now. But, for the day that you do start working with us make sure you actually smell good. And try to dress at least decently. I don’t want to be seen with a guy that goes to work in a bathrobe.” And without further words you walked out to grab lunch, not bothering to let him ask for anything further.

For now, until the job was over the two of you were stuck with each other. And after the job, you two were still stuck.

Surprisingly, he did a really good job. And so, your boss permanently hired him for the rest of your work. At first it definitely wasn’t the best, but thankfully you two actually managed to become friends, and your work is now just more enjoyable. Hell, you even managed to gain a little crush on the guy. It was confusing as hell, but you already knew the feelings weren’t mutual.

Especially now that you’re dying in an alley.

Hah... how could a simple smoke break jump to you being attacked by three guys looking to take your shit? God, the world is so shit. And now because of a simple smoke break, you had a gun wound near your side and a deep stab wound in your thigh. Maybe even a badly bleeding cut near your neck. Not even mentioning all the other less deep stab wounds closer to areas considered fatal and all the little cuts constantly stinging. Either way, you’re bruised quite badly, your face is bloodied to high hell, and you’re bleeding out.

“Heh... this sucks.” You quietly muttered to yourself, holding to your bleeding side and trying to keep all the blood in. If you’re lucky, maybe Dude would find you. Maybe he would save you. But, you already knew that was a hopeless possibility. Life isn’t a fairytale, after all. It’s shit, and people die. And now, you were about to be one of those people.

God knows how long you just sat surrounded by trash and your own blood. You could already tell that your vision was slowly going black and fading. Guess this dingy alley is where you’d die, huh? Too bad you never got to tell Dude about your little crush on him. Too bad you never got to say proper goodbyes to what family you have left, both biological and found. Too bad you never got to finally retire.

But none of that mattered now. Your consciousness was quickly slipping, and your body slowly went limp. And as the black void nearly consumed your vision, you heard a voice yelling out for you, with both the voice and rapid footsteps quickly coming closer. It was Dude’s voice. But, none of it mattered anyways. At least he was willing to help you, even if you were on your dying breath.

But just maybe, you managed to live. It’s a surprise to be sure, but a pleasant one. And speaking of pleasant surprises, you slowly woke up and softly hissed at the bright lights, having to take a while to adjust to the sheer white.

“Jesus, I thought I lost you!”

At the words you slowly looked over to your right, beholding a noticeably concerned Dude sitting by your side. Did he really wait here the whole time?

“Dude-? Did you really wait for me?” You asked while quietly chuckling, with Dude blushing a small but noticeable shade of red. Huh, weird.

“Hah, you look cute when you blush.” You chuckled again, enjoying his reactions before he gently grabbed your hand, wearing a concerned expression.

“C’mon, quit joking around. You could’ve died y’know. Tch, you’re a fucking dumbass.” As he spoke his voice was laced with concern, with his eyes constantly darting around. Even with his sunglasses on, it was noticeable as all hell. “Damn, you sound so sappy. It’s disgusting, stop that.” You joked while playfully hitting his shoulder, doing what you could to cheer him up and keep yourself calm at the same time. But well, it wasn’t quite working for either of you.

“Besides, why do you care so much? Not like you’re in love with me or anything.” You continued joking around, but his awful silence and growing blush certainly said another story. “You’re not actually in love with me, right?”

For a good while he remained silent before smirking, quietly laughing as he put an arm around your shoulder, mindful of your wounds. “Of course I am, and I know you are too. What, don’t think I���d notice the little crush you had on me?”

And now was your turn to become flustered. Has it really been so noticeable the whole time? But either way even with his words, you were simply glad that your feelings were mutual. And for the first time in a while, just glad to be alive.

“Well, I’m glad those feelings are mutual.” You softly chuckled before gently grabbing his chin, moving a few loose gray hairs out of the way while admiring his cute ass face. “May I?”

“Of course, my love.”

And with his confirmation, the two of you shared a kiss. And honestly, it was better than you thought. On both ends it remained soft and satisfying, lasting for as long as it needed until the two of you pulled away from each other. The slightly dazed look resting upon his face was certainly a sight to behold.

“You look so fucking cute, y’know that?” You softly smiled at him and his dazed face, with him doing the same. “And so do you, my love. God, I love you so fucking much.” And with his response you continued smiling, resting your forehead against his own. The moment was so nice. It was so peaceful. And the two of you never wanted it to end.

“I love you so much, Dude.”

“Hah... love ya too, my dear.”

[kingdom-dance]

TY @asian-ascian​ for this @shepherds-of-haven relationship chart that I spent so much time on 💙 it’s fun to be insane about these little guys. Anyway under the cut as promised is more about Chase and Niamh’s relationship because I’m super normal about them.

Chase gives Niamh much needed permission to be just a little selfish for once. He protects her from her fate as a martyr, as she is inclined to become, keeps her from pouring from an empty cup, and uses his own to fill hers without complaint, without expectation of return. Niamh is a lighthouse,not an anchor for him. She won’t stifle him, but she is that constant that he can come home to. Safety, a beacon of sorts. She is often stuck in her own head with her thoughts and Chase is very good at pulling her out of that and knowing when she needs it. I think also they are very in-tune with each other, and anticipating the other’s needs (not wants) is a big part of it. I think to her, Chase is most willing to see her as a person and not this holder of enormous power or some mysterious creature. He knows her without pretense, and she, with some patience learns him just as well.

[dotmander]

a gift to @crowstrel for the @gw2giftexchange!!! here's rosarott with......definitely just a regular dog, who wants to make a new friend :)

[stabbyfoxandrew]

y'all who like my AUs and play wipw with me, i have a small dilemma: last week i got so many asks that it stressed me out. a lot.

i wanna keep doing wipw. so... do i turn off my inbox after i get a certain number of asks or limit it to one ask per person? like idk i don't wanna not do it because it's so fun and i like it but oh my god last week was rough for me and my silly little brain