#so....branch didn't win however...

[poppibranchlover]

Heads up from the 2024 Kids’ Choice Awards! Poppy had won her orange blimp YET AGAIN!!! 👏👏👏

Meanwhile, Branch’s spot was destroyed by a Netflix lizard. 🥺

Yeah, I know it’s a shame that my boy didn’t deserve it, but I’m still really proud of Anna Kendrick because she nailed her Troll so well for all these years. Congratulations to her, by the way! 😍🥰💖

[sunderwight]

AU where there's no system (or a decidedly less restrictive one) and Shen Yuan transmigrates into an OC rogue cultivator before the start of the novel, and decides he's gonna steal the protagonist before Luo Binghe even gets to Cang Qiong.

The logic is sound -- he'll keep Luo Binghe from experiencing neglect and abuse at Shen Qingqiu's hands, raise him away from the pressure of the sects and the likelihood that anyone else might find out about his heritage and try to harm him over it, keep him fully away from the Immortal Alliance Conference, and then Luo Binghe's course will change trajectory because he'll have no reason to want revenge against the world and no access to Xin Mo. Shen Yuan will be able to spare Luo Binghe some suffering and possibly survive in a world less subject to the harrowing whims of a half-mad tyrannical overlord. Win-win!

However, the tricky bit is that he's not sure exactly how far ahead of the novel he is, and also Airplane didn't specify where Luo Binghe grew up. This means that Luo Binghe could be any age younger than twelve and in any number of places along or near to the Luo river.

Shen Yuan decides he's going to approach this by pretending he is looking for the long-lost son of his sister, traveling through the likeliest areas, asking after abandoned children who might fit the protagonist's description. It's a long shot, he knows, and he's mostly relying on the existence of Narrative Destiny. But eventually he is directed by several people towards a particular city, which is not as close to the river as he'd have expected Luo Binghe to grow up, but then again he only knows that was where baby Binghe was found, not where the washerwoman who took him in ultimately lived.

It becomes clear to him, though, that he's been sent to the wrong target. But also why he's been sent astray is apparent in nearly the same breath, because among the slave children living in this area is a little boy who could be his much younger clone.

Seriously, this kid looks just like him! Or, well, close enough. He looks a lot like Shen Yuan's actual nieces and nephews from his past life. It's uncanny.

Also, because of his search, the slave kids get wind of what he's looking for (his long-lost nephew) pretty quick. The boy with the obvious resemblance to him greets Shen Yuan's own assessment with wary cynicism, but he's just a little boy. So it's not difficult to notice the way he's also practically vibrating with hopefulness, half-hiding behind a protective older kid and looking at Shen Yuan with big dark eyes like he expects to be rescued or destroyed with whatever he has to say next.

Shen Yuan has a big problem now. He just knows that if he says something like "actually no this boy is too old to be my nephew" or whatever other excuse, no one will believe him, and also this poor kid is going to be permanently scarred by it. He's going to think Shen Yuan is lying just so that he can reject him. On top of that, he's not in a good situation here. None of these children are even remotely well cared-for.

Shen Yuan's rogue cultivator self isn't rich on the level of being like a wealthy sect leader or anything, but he's made some money since transmigrating by doing random cultivator jobs and quests along the way here. He uses it all to purchase two little slave boys (Do Not Separate), then takes another job and uses that coin to acquire a somewhat rundown manor which used to belong to the local gentry. The Qiu family (rings some bells but that's not exactly an uncommon name) kept it up for a while in case a branch family sprung up in need of a residence, but they've been in decline and the place is downright decrepit, so they had been looking to sell it instead. It's too big for a wandering bachelor like SY to ever need on his own account, but that's sort of the idea. He makes more money taking on cultivator work, at first taking his boys along with him for lack of any alternative. Nerve-wrackingly dangerous! Eventually he hires workers to start restoring the manor, particularly setting up a yard to be a school area, and then starts taking on any freelance jobs he can get in order to steadily buy out the contracts on all the other kids. He gets it nice enough to house and care for as many orphans as he can acquire.

Not because he's a big old softie though!

His story of looking for his nephew is a bust now, since he's apparently "found" the kid. So he's got to change tactics! If he can't find baby Binghe and the washerwoman, the next best approach is to create an opportunity for them to come to him. So once he's got his new household established, he starts offering free lessons to all the local kids. Not just the ones he's taken in, but also any who come by and want to learn some things. It's a tempting setup for anyone who wants their child to get education but can't afford a tutor, and Luo Binghe's mother had been entirely the sort of person who would have packed up and left her situation if there had been an opportunity for it.

On that note, SY also starts hiring single mothers to help look after his new gaggle of children and do the work he doesn't know how to do in these times, like keeping house, laundry, cooking, actually raising kids, etc.

His "little school" is not universally popular. A few groups try and ruin him, because the poverty in the region provides a basis of business for them. The ringleaders of the human traffickers in the area don't want their trade to dry up, even if it means selling all of their merchandise for this round, so when they find out that their underlings let Shen Yuan buy off all the kids they try and intimidate him into returning them (it doesn't go well for them). The Qiu family also isn't thrilled after it becomes clear what he's doing, and get him investigated by the local authorities (read: use their bribed officials and local goons to try and interfere.)

When that doesn't work either the sects get involved, because the Qiu go crying to Huan Hua Palace that Shen Yuan is sketchy and is trying to establish his own sect. So Shen Yuan talks his way around the matter, and frankly the Qiu are small fish even if they're the biggest ones in the local pond, so HHP doesn't care to pursue things much further. (Read: SY could mop the floor with the disciples they sent to investigate him, and it's not worth it to piss off someone this mysterious and powerful just to bully some impoverished children.)

Shen Yuan is appalled by all this bullshit though. Trust the world of PIDW to make it so hard just for a guy to teach some poor kids how to read and do math!

It makes him dig in his heels about it, because he is at heart a stubborn bastard. The fires that once fueled a thousand angry screeds on zhongdian literature site is now aimed at the local magistrate. One of the women he's hired on has some dirt on the Qiu family, which leads SY to dig up some more until he eventually has enough to turn the tables on them. Local officials won't investigate because they've all been bought, but that in and of itself is of some interest to their superiors closer to the palace, and so SY arranges an investigation of his own that goes way further than he thought? Turns out there are some ugly skeletons in the Qiu closets, and the imperial investigator comes down on them hard.

Well, he can't say they didn't have it coming? Though he does feel bad for the children in the family, especially the oldest son, who gets hauled off to jail along with his father. At least the girl is sent to live with relatives. Maybe he should have done more to shield the minors in the situation...?

His kids tell him not to worry about it, though, that apparently young master Qiu was known to run people down in the streets and beat his servants and do other cartoonishly awful things. SY's not sure how much of it is true and how much of it is his little flock of fluffy sheep trying to ease his conscience, though they do all seem to take a lot of vindictive delight in the whole affair. Especially Nephew, who clings to his sleeves and loudly declares that the investigator should have publicly flogged the discredited nobles so that everyone could go watch, and then begs him for sweets as if that wasn't a creepy thing to hear come out of an eight-year-old's mouth. SY just sighs and tells him he can have something good when he finishes his calligraphy practice.

Of course, it's not exactly easy running what is basically an orphanage-slash-school (and maybe a budding sect...?), especially when pretty much all of the kids have been traumatized and faced stuff like rampant dehumanization, food insecurity, abuse, and neglect. Hiring single mothers soon becomes not only a plan to try and lure in Luo Binghe's mom, but an absolute godsend of an idea because SY has no clue WHAT he would do on his own about the discipline issues or emotional breakdowns or acting out that some of the kids get up to once it registers that they're in a safe enough place to unpack their baggage.

Apart from Nephew, SY's favorite kid is the one who came with him, the oldest of the flock of former slave children. He's the big brother of the group, the one who tries his best to look after the others and to not make any trouble himself. But even poor Little Yue is still just a kid who has been through too much, and he also eventually starts having some meltdowns and struggles with processing everything that has happened to him as a vulnerable child in an unkind world.

SY really didn't mean to start a trauma center for mistreated children!

Though, that's still not necessarily a bad thing for Luo Binghe to one day come across, provided he ever actually shows up...

Eventually, Shen Yuan does figure out that he must be ahead even of Luo Binghe's birth, though he still doesn't put together that he's interfered in the scum villain's backstory. Probably something even more amusingly obscure, like the creation year of some random artifact Luo Binghe used in some wife plot or other, tips him off and he mentally throws his hands up in the air. He's got to wait DECADES? Maybe he ought to try and find Luo Binghe's biological parents and just follow them around at this point!

Not that he can, now, though, because he has to make sure no negative IQ villains (who will probably just be cannon fodder for a subplot one day) decide to send goons to literally burn down his orphanage. Also if he's gone for too long his kids get upset. Probably because no one else is as weak to their puppy dog eyes and pleas for treats and toys as he is.

At least it gives him time to shore up his position, and train Nephew and Little Yue more extensively in cultivation. Despite his initial assurances to HHP that he was but a humble orphan wrangler who was only incidentally a cultivator, Shen Yuan does also teach the other kids some basic cultivation exercises. There are a few reasons for that.

One is just the principle of the thing. No, these kids don't all have the potential to become great immortals or anything, but they can still learn some of it and it's good for their health if they do. The only trouble is if they try and push too hard or attempt things beyond their range, and that's a risk with everyone who cultivates. Or even just exercises!

Another reason is that it helps stave off the jealousy that some of the kids have towards those with more cultivation potential. Teaching a lot of the basics all around makes it into just another topic at school. Some kids might not be as good at it as others, but those kids might also be better at math, or memorization, or board games, and while cultivation can open more doors to people as adults, for the children this is generally enough to satisfy their sense of fairness. Or at least reduce outbursts and fights.

Finally, the impression that any of SY's kids might be a cultivator also makes wicked people more reluctant to try and abduct or interfere with them. Cultivators are revered and nearly mythological figures in the public consciousness. It isn't difficult to see why, if even a rogue cultivator NPC like SY* can mop the floor with most random muggers (*Shen Yuan is not a normal rogue cultivator). Not many people want to risk bringing SY's ire down on them, but of those who might chance it if he wasn't around to immediately react, even fewer want to risk that the kids themselves could kick their asses.

Not knowing that only two of the orphans probably could in fact mop the floor with them helps keep all the rest safer, and is more believable when all of them can conduct themselves enough like disciples to fool anyone who doesn't know what to really look for.

Developments that surprise Shen Yuan but wouldn't surprise anyone else who is paying attention:

People start leaving unwanted babies and younger children on his doorstep. Not all the time, but more than once has he had to frantically find wet nurses and worry that he's changed things enough that some fishermen might just randomly drop the protagonist outside his gate, and he wouldn't even know because Binghe would be a literal infant??

Nephew (SJ) and Little Yue (Yue Qi -- only Shen Yuan calls him "Little", especially when he gets taller than SY by the time he's sixteen) are prodigies who get really good at cultivation, really fast, and between that and Shen Yuan's OP skills they completely warp Shen Yuan's ideas for what normal cultivation potential looks like. This would probably cause more problems if he wasn't teaching all the kids how to cultivate anyway, but means his students actually do kinda run the usual range of skills for a small sect.

SJ and YQ swiftly reach the point where they need more advanced equipment than just SY's teaching can provide, if they're going to keep building their skills. Gaining access to certain tools, aids, and materials (like spiritual swords) is a real hurdle though, and usually is for rogue cultivators (one of the major disadvantages of no sect affiliation.) Shen Yuan is hesitant to use stuff from the plot, since it's For Binghe, but he eventually caves and starts going after some things that he doesn't think the future protagonist will miss much. He also ends up buying stuff from HHP, since they're willing to sell things like spiritual tools and weapons if the price is right, whereas most other sects like Cang Qiong reserve them for members only.

They get an invitation to the Immortal Alliance Conference. Not the one where the Abyss opens up, obviously, the one where (originally) Shen Jiu reunited with Yue Qi and killed Wu Yanzi. Shen Yuan debates on going but the boys really want to, and things have calmed down enough that no one's trying to burn down the school whenever he leaves these days, so eventually he figures it'll be interesting to see some of the Cang Qiong characters and should be safe enough if he keeps his disciples close.

They don't run into young Yue Qingyuan or Shen Qingqiu on the trip, but Wu Yanzi does show up and get killed, and SY only hears about it and assumes they just missed all that action. (WYZ just got caught by some senior cultivators who recognized him and killed him to avenge some disciples he murdered.) Nephew and Little Yue do meet young Liu Qingge, Shang Qinghua, Mu Qingfang, and Su Xiyan though! Which gives Shen Yuan the opportunity to tell them all (mostly Su Xiyan) that if they're ever in trouble near his school, they can come to him for help. Hint hint.

This open invitation ends up being accepted broadly by a lot of traveling cultivators after the conference, who from then on treat Shen Yuan's school like a free motel whenever they're passing through. Plenty aren't even people SY met, but it seems his statement was taken as a general one to fellow righteous cultivators all around! Luckily, this has some advantages. Shen Yuan has no qualms running off anyone who tries to take unfair advantage of him or especially his kids or staff, and no shame in conscripting anyone who is decent enough to help teach his students, even if it's nothing to do with cultivating, and somehow word gets around and people start bringing school supplies, medicine, food, or other useful things along with them as gifts to help repay the hospitality. Young Liu Qingge comes by a lot on his way to and from various quests, or even seems to just turn up randomly sometimes (he comes to challenge YQ and SJ to fights), and SY's just like "I guess this is happening now" and teaches him to recognize the early signs of qi deviation and advises strongly against meditating in caves.

At one point a young Shang Qinghua turns up in one of the spare rooms, very obviously hiding an ice demon. Shen Yuan again is just like "I guess this is happening now" and shelters them until Mobei Jun has recovered, and sends a message to Cang Qiong that one of their An Ding caravans was attacked and their disciple is recovering under his roof but isn't well enough to travel yet. Much less stressful situation for Airplane (who is desperately trying to figure out what he did to manifest SJ's benevolent uncle from somewhere???)

Su Xiyan seems like the only person they met at the Immortal Alliance Conference who doesn't turn up at their door in a state of emergency at some point.

A few years later, there is a big scandal involving her and the demon emperor. Su Xiyan disappears, Huan Hua Palace accuses Tianlang Jun of plotting against the righteous sects, and Shen Yuan is even invited to the meeting where they try and rally everyone to go kill Binghe's dad. Naturally, he declines to participate in the witch hunt, but the major sects agree to it. By luck (or narrative fortune) Shen Yuan comes across Zhuzhi Lang on his trip back home, and mentions the ambush and his distaste for it (not knowing who ZZL is). ZZL warns Tianlang Jun and the confrontation goes very differently, especially since there's no Yue Qingyuan wielding Xuan Su.

It doesn't go well for the sects involved. Huan Hua Palace gets decimated. The Old Palace Master gets killed. Shen Yuan is like uhhhh that's... whoops? Didn't Luo Binghe need that in the future?? Fuck.

But the sect isn't wiped out completely, they just take a massive beating. Some of their younger disciples end up leaving and turning up on Shen Yuan's doorstep, for some reason. The manor house is becoming too small to account for all of these foundlings! They have to expand. Though the expansions would be a stretch to term a "palace" they end up occupying a much larger chunk of territory, and even investing in farmland and some storehouses to help support the sect. That's still not really a sect, of course. Even if a lot of the business that would have normally gone to Huan Hua Palace starts coming to them instead. Once HHP is back on its feet the stream will probably dry out. Probably?

Zhuzhi Lang starts hanging around. He's actually looking for Su Xiyan or their baby, dead or alive and per Tianlang Jun's instructions, but he uses Shen Yuan's school as base camp for his kind of hopeless efforts to find any traces of them, while also looking for ways to try and repay Shen Yuan. All the kids are just like "oh great, another weird man has fallen in love with Shizun -- someone go run interference" about it.

Some years later, an older woman and her young son turn up. Shen Yuan's off on a quest at the time, so SJ receives them. As is standard procedure he gives the woman a job and places the boy in classes, after giving him the aptitude tests. The kid is cute and precocious, so SJ uses him to distract YQ while he himself sneaks out to go join LQG on a monster hunt (and claim the valuable parts of the beast's remains for himself), and neither SY nor ZZL notice anything until SY's going over the paperwork for stuff he missed while he was gone. Since he procrastinated, it takes him like a week to find out that Luo Binghe is finally under his roof. He's going over the admission form right when SJ arrives with The New Adorable Child to try and distract SY enough that SY will let him go on a solo hunt -- as far as being distracted goes, it is way more effective than even SJ anticipated.

Then he has to figure out how to let ZZL know, so that ZZL can let Tianlang Jun know, so that Luo Binghe will have more family than just his mom and more resources than just a shabby little not-sect! But even once he figures it out and sets up the dramatic reveal, TLJ is just like "great! so can he just stay with you? he's probably fine there" which... irritates SY.

SJ fully conscripts Luo Binghe as a minion in his many cons. He never lost his street kid conman tactics, although he now uses them less as a ruthless survival tool or weapon and more to just get things to go his own way. LBH has the face and disposition of a little angel, which SJ no longer can pull off as a full grown adult, so he fills a gap. LBH also knows full well what's going, especially since a lot of SJ's tactics involve throwing LBH at SY like a smoke bomb.

Luo Binghe inevitably still develops a big fat crush on SY, so this is fine by him. Especially when he gets older, he starts bringing SY tea and making him breakfast and running his errands until even SJ is like "wait a minute, this little brat's stealing my job!" and by then it's too late. Luo Binghe is SY's personal assistant, the disciple at conman puppydog eyes has surpassed the master! While SJ was busy being like "I'm going to trick this idiot into doing my chores" LBH was going "I'm going to trick this idiot into giving me his job".

SY takes too long to officially name his school so everyone calls it the Shen Sect, much to his embarrassment.

[barbielore]

So Much To Do was a Barbie line from the 1990s featuring Barbie as a busy woman on the go running errands. This is fascinating to me in many ways because in addition to showing us some really mundane minutiae of the Barbie world, these Barbies generally depict her patronizing different places rather than working in them, as is typically her way.

In fact, Ken is typically the one shown working in these playsets, as he is representing the employee at the Post Office, the Bank and the Supermarket.

In a way, in fact, you could interpret this run of Barbies as being an odd throwback, as the Kens are mostly the ones with jobs and the Barbies are the ones doing chores and keeping the household running. Because, in fact, these playsets were not just errands that took place outside the house. Barbie also got real domestic.

I have to say, though, you can interpret it however you want, but I love this. Barbie has a handheld dustbuster! She has a little bottle of cleaning spray!

And the Kens aren't the only employees in this branch of Barbie World. The Mini Mart seems to be run by a Skipper.

I'm not sure what's happening in the background art there on the box, but it really looks like a police officer is giving Barbie a parking ticket. I mean, let me know what else you think that could be. But I think that's a Ken Cop giving Barbie a parking ticket.

I love these so much because I love any Barbie set that comes with a bunch of little items. Little items are always the way to win me over.

Thank you, Mattel, for providing the world with tiny Barbie-sized laundry liquid and an iron. We needed that. Even if we didn't know it.

[ticklygiggles]

A/N: 2/4 of always angelic @wertzunge 's gift~ ❣️ as disclaimer I have never watched or read bhna, so i just hope they're in character enough to be enjoyable, hehe.

Summary: 🤫

Words: 1.1k

“Look at the mess you're doing!” 

Kirishima couldn't help but chuckle, moving with his foot the shattered sphere that had slipped from his hands.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” he said softly, still hurryingly placing ornaments on the tree and he giggled as Bakugou started to nag him again. 

Kirishima would never use the word ‘delicate’ to define Bakugou, he knew that his boyfriend was the opposite of that, so when he proposed to have a competition to see who could put the most Christmas decorations on the tree in just ten minutes, he was almost certain that he had the win in the bag. 

However, who would have thought that Bakugou would be so good at it? He placed each sphere very carefully, with the same care you would use to touch a newborn baby. He didn't even treat Kirishima that kindly!

But he could understand, after all, the loser would wash the dishes for a whole week. They both hated this chore with a passion, so their competitive instincts blossomed as soon as the timer on Kirishima’s phone had started. 

“I didn't know you were so good at decorating, Bakugou,” he said in hopes of distracting his boyfriend enough to take the lead, or at least make him stop a little. 

Bakugou's hands moved quickly, but with brutal delicacy, the smell of pine tickling Kirishima's nose every time his or Bakugou's hands moved one of the pine branches. 

Bakugou rolled his eyes, showing his fangs, (an expression that somehow Kirishima found so attractive), his eyes fixed on the box of red spheres in his hand. “Tch! My mom would disown me if I dared to even think of breaking her Christmas decorations. It's only natural I'm so meticulous… unlike certain people.”

Kirishima fought the urge to laugh at that snarked remark and he nodded. “Hmm~ makes sense, makes sense,” he answered nonchalantly as he looked at the timer and his eyes widened. 

“What's wrong?” Bakugou asked when Kirishima gasped, nearly absorbing the tree and Bakugou. 

There were two minutes left! Kirishima looked down at the box of golden spheres in his hand and then at the other two boxes beside him. His heart started to beat fast against his ribs and he refused, by all means, to look over at Bakugou. 

“What is wrong?” Bakugou asked again, this time more exasperated and it was then that Kirishima decided to look at him and he regretted it so much.

Bakugou only had half a box left. He was going to win! 

“I… I- I didn't set the timer!” 

Bakugou raised an eyebrow. “You did? You literally did it in front of my eyes and-,” Bakugou suddenly stopped talking and Kirishima licked his lips nervously. A bead of sweat rolled down his spine when he saw Bakugou's shit-eating-grin.

Bakugou looked at his almost empty box and then at the two and a half boxes still waiting for Kirishima and Kirishima tried, foolishly, to hide them with his body, but Bakugou just laughed mockingly. 

“Does it mean I'm gonna win? I hope you enjoy washing those dishes– oh look, it's my last sphere. Tonight's dinner is gonna be extremely messy a-ahahand-! Agh! Whahat ahahare you dohohoing?!” 

There was no way Kirishima was going to let Bakugou win. So, quickly putting the box of spheres aside, and before Bakugou could place the last sphere, Kirishima's cold hands snaked under Bakugou's sweater and began tickling his sides.

Bakugou's warm skin was covered in gooseflesh as he jumped, surprised by the touch and the maddening sensation of the tickling assaulting his nerve endings. Kirishima chuckled, hoping that the sudden attack would make Bakugou drop the sphere, but instead, the box was the one that fell from his hands. 

“Sh-Shihihitty hahahair! F-Fuhuhucking stohohop!” Bakugou said through gritted teeth, trying his best to stop himself from giggling, but Kirishima knew his body so well. 

With a swift move, Kirishima's hands moved from his sides towards Bakugou's ribs and the blonde threw his head back with loud cackles, his knees giving up on him as he fell to the floor, squirming and squealing. 

Kirishima followed him, chuckling under his breath as he noticed the growing blush across Bakugou's cheeks. Kirishima hadn't noticed, but the day had definitely moved on while they were busy decorating the house. The sun was almost setting and the room was filled with darkness except for the bright light coming from the tree. 

The Christmas lights flickered and twinkled, reflecting on Bakugou's face and Kirishima was awestruck for a moment.

What a beautiful sight, he thought, looking down at his laughing boyfriend. Bakugou was, of course, laughing. His nose scrunched up and his mouth wide into a bright toothy smile. His cheeks were adorably pink and Kirishima's name kept escaping from between his lips wrapped around choked giggles and sweet laughter. 

The soft warm light made his skin glow beautifully, truly a Christmas miracle. 

He wasn't sure he could stop anytime soon. His fingertips, already warm thanks to Bakugou's heat, dug all over Bakugou's ribcage, causing him to arch his spine and throw his head back to let that sweet laughter flow freely. 

“LEHEHET GOHOHO!” Bakugou tried to hit Kirishima’s arm, but he was too weak and could barely move his arms away from his ribcage. 

“I might stop if you let me win, hehe.” 

Bakugou shook his head stubbornly, giving up on forming words through his laughter, especially when Kirishima's evil fingers found his highest ribs, so close to his armpits. 

Oh he looked so adorable laughing like this. Kirishima wasn't even interested in winning that stupid competition anymore. He was enjoying watching his boyfriend laughing his head off right now, he didn't really care about washing the dishes for a whole week. 

“PLEHEHASE! Lehehet me breheheath!” Bakugou begged and Kirishima did stop, letting out a soft ‘oops’. Bakugou went limp against the floor and he gasped, trying to catch his breath. 

Kirishima giggled, gently wiping a tear away from Bakugou's cheek. “Fine, fine. You won. I guess I'll be in charge of the dishes.”

Bakugou sighed, trying to glare at Kirishima, but he was still giggling softly and twitching. Kirishima was also smiling brightly at him, but then his eyes caught something interesting. He grabbed Bakugou's wrist and the latter started to giggle, begging for Kirishima to not do it, but Kirishima was not interested in tickling him, but in something else… 

“You really are careful with the spheres, huh?” Bakugou blinked and they both looked at that red sphere carefully secured on his hand.

They looked at each other and broke into a fit of laughter before Kirishima got up and helped Bakugou on his feet. 

“It's getting a little cold, I'll get us some hot cocoa to continue, alright?” 

Bakugou nodded, placing his last ornament with a grin on his face as Kirishima walked to the kitching, smiling to himself as well.

[namelessprayers]

"i'm not in love with you." till says unprompted, a clarification out of the blue on the steps outside their school's decrepit gym. it's warm.

ivan's heart clenches, but not unexpectedly, maybe just in some customary relinquishment of hope; resigned, like the sentence has been a long time coming either way the cards decided to fall.

he knew they were never really in his hands anyways. till holds every winning play and will receive the pay off of any gamble in relation to ivan, as is the nature of their friendship, of their subtly predestined magnitude marked in the stars.

"alright. why should i care about that?" responds ivan, in a way that sounds practiced in its indifference, not a hint of sullen defeat to it. the shaky sincerity of till's statement (confession?) dissipates in an instant, a wisp in the wind of their many bittersweet memories.

for a second, ivan thinks that this'll be one of those stained days, wherein his emotions become a little too intense to keep the events unclouded in his mind. then, he looks at till's indignant face as his cheeks flush an embarrassed red, and the possibility of such a fog is vanquished by his overwhelmingly pitiful fondness.

"what's wrong? did you think i didn't know that?" ivan inquires teasingly, though almost genuinely wondering over till's answer.

"no, asshole, you just don't get it." when till barely splutters out his bold summation, ivan feels a bit like he's missing something, but nothing clicks into place immediately.

in lieu of what to do, ivan idly hooks his ankle around till's leg. their sides press together and the concentrated scowl in till's eyes lightens. the magnetic frequency that always draws ivan to till seems to preen at this course of action, heightening at some invisible wavelength correspondence this proves.

"yeah," says ivan, suddenly slipping into a state of enough confidence to lean his head on till's shoulder, "i don't get it at all." it's warm.

======

there's no obsessive nature in ivan besides the one exception of till. if it weren't for ivan anchoring himself at the other's side, drifting through life and school and work and into death would be as simple as just that, drifting.

yet, ivan does get a bit caught up in the semantics and debatable dichotomy of the admission found in 'i'm not in love with you'.

when someone says that, especially pertaining to till, it seems direct and clear cut and like setting a boundary. or it should (but ivan might be severely overthinking it). still, the way till voiced it so abruptly, offered like a branch extending to the root of something deeper; ivan is nearly delusional enough to trick himself into thinking that till might've been coaxing him into confessing a feeling of his own.

too bad that it would only be plausible if it were any pair besides them.

so, decidedly, ivan reaches the end of the week by walking till to the bus stop and telling himself that he is not obsessed because he never has been and never will be.

======

"he said that? really!?" squeaks mizi, her eyes welling up with tears under her lashes, looking more disconcerted than ivan felt when he first heard it himself. "i don't understand... it's just wrong! how is it even fair? why would he say it randomly like that? how could he!?"

sensing the imminent breakdown of distress, sua glares from behind mizi, pointedly indicating that ivan fix this at the threat of a beating if otherwise. sua doesn't pull her punches, so ivan tries his best, beginning with placing a placating hand on top of mizi's head which is an attempt that fails spectacularly as soon as it starts.

when mizi full on wails, ivan realizes his mistake and quickly mutters about having to pick up till from band practice (an excuse that sua glares at because she's the only one that recalls them all being in the same band).

however, regardless of sua's skepticism, ivan truly does have a scheduled meeting time with till. it makes him feel a little better to have told that much of the truth after inadvertently making mizi cry.

======

it's been two weeks since the 'i'm not in love with you' incident, as hyuna has taken to referring to it. somehow, the whole band has caught wind of it despite till being none the wiser, if not a bit confused by mizi's sorrowful looks between him and ivan whenever they're standing next to each other (which is more often than not).

at first, ivan took to the technique of waking up every morning and going to see till with the mentality of 'i'm over it already' as a halfhearted mantra for manifestation. unfortunately, it fell through pretty quickly after a couple of days where ivan came to remember that 'i'm never getting over you' is a phrase that exists primarily in his vocabulary and readily within his skillset.

luka, the smug bastard, uses the opportunity of ivan's momentary lapse in normalcy to get under till's skin constantly. in turn, this gets on mizi's nerves, who tells luka not to let the not-so-secret secret be revealed to till who already knows but doesn't know that everyone else also knows. it's quite confusing, but not really that confusing when sua hops in to defend mizi (as typical). then, followed by hyuna using herself as a human scale to balance the forces of the band's intermittent chaos (as is also typical).

all the while, ivan moves on to stage two of what might be grief or consolation. he adjusts, because technically, he's been doing this since forever. meaning, he repeats 'i'm used to this' whenever he gets the urge to say he actually loves till or express it in various other horrifyingly excruciating displays.

ivan only falters once in this process of acclimation, when till deftly wipes a smear of dirt off his face in a second that has the world stopping and gawking and ivan's poor body weak to a violent bout of close to collapsing syndrome. the casual manner of till's frown and adorably wrinkled nose in confusion at ivan's dramatics just serving to make his pulse thrum that much more irregular through his veins.

somewhere, seated behind the drumkit (at hyuna's benevolence), luka stifles an obnoxious laugh at ivan's simultaneously paling and colouring skin as he feels an inch away from an early demise of affection overload induced heart attack.

======

"sounds like you got a predicament, loverboy." announces hyuna from the rim of her drink at the bar, her snarkiness showing how much luka has unwarrantedly made an influence. "i mean, it's weird, because he still doesn't look at you far off from how sua looks at mizi."

"what's that supposed to mean?" ivan asks, ineloquently, since he's slightly drunk and will probably puke if he thinks too long about the way sua stares at mizi. "it's not the same."

"yeah, it totally is." hyuna nods after taking a generous swig from her overflowing cup. it won't be long before she has to go find luka in the bar's crowd to cut him off. they drink at the same rate, but luka gets smashed significantly faster than anyone else.

"is it?" parrots ivan, totally unconvinced by her drunken state of conviction. his inkling of hope flickers.

"mhm. possessive, i'd say. sure, sua loves mizi, but she's also a possessive girlfriend if i ever saw one!" the aforementioned 'possessive girlfriend' whips her attention around to hyuna who suddenly seems very sober. ivan sighs as hyuna dashes to fetch luka, slumping forward over the wooden counter, resolving that the issue needs to be confronted as soon as possible given a few more lenient business days to breathe.

======

"are you not even a little bit in love with me?" ivan dares to bring up out of the blue when they're sitting on the same steps in front of their school's old gym. it's cold today.

it goes so silent that ivan almost thinks till didn't hear him, but that would be too nice a fate for the universe to afford him, so they're forced to seep in a terse quiet for an uneasy moment too long.

though eventually, ivan relents, turning his head to till who's surprisingly already glaring at him with a cutting focus. he resembles somewhere between a disgruntled stray cat and a snake about to kill ivan in one bite. part of ivan wishes it's the latter.

"well," till says, parsed out through gritted teeth, "are you in love with me?" he finishes the question sounding more like a demand, intently staring at the ground where their shoes are mismatched but aligned.

ivan blinks. he thinks about the current chill in the air and the ghost of sunlight on their skin about a month ago. he thinks about till pursing his lips as he spoke the dreaded sentence, dropping the statement like a prompt. he thinks of his own gaze, wilting a tad, reflected by till's own. apparently, ivan has one card.

"is that what you wanted to hear?" the politeness might as well strangle the both of them, but ivan is being honest about this, achingly direct. he wants to hear the truth and only the truth in return.

"that's what i thought you would say." responds till, like clockwork, before his expression screws up as if it was just a slip of the tongue to comment such a sentiment. "if you meant it, anyways." he amends, trying to brush it off. "i guess it doesn't matter now."

the accusation is pretty clear, 'you didn't say it then, so you won't mean it if you say it now; you're too late'. ivan thinks of gambling and the stars shining bright across world, listening in, as if he ever had something worth betting. it feels divined, anticipated, when it finally falls. his heart clenches and it hurts in the right way.

"i am in love with you." ivan whispers, softly, like it's a phrase the world will remember for him and reinvigorate if given enough time to flourish. "you don't have to say it back."

"okay. okay." murmurs till with equal softness in his tone. his head leans against ivan's shoulder, conceding or admitting to a gap in the lines. "i'm sorry." uncharacteristically, till sounds sincerely remorseful. for once, ivan doesn't need to steel himself against looking and allows himself to linger on a single glance. "you get it, don't you?"

ivan nearly asks 'how did you know', but they had both always known. maybe that was always the point. if it was anyone else, ivan isn't sure they would've stayed all this time. and till is right here, close enough to touch, perhaps even to keep.

"i get it." says ivan, because he does. "i know." he smiles into till's hair. it's not that cold anymore.

[wandagcre]

Need some soft golden retriever Sam hcs please 😭

SHE IS THE CUTEST GIRLFRIEND EVER. LISTEN‼️

she waits for you (whether it's after your classes at uni or after working) if her shift happens to end early, sam is literally the embodiment of 🧍🏻‍♀️ emoji

sam LOVES tummy rubs ;( if you don't do it while you're watching a movie, she will grasp your hand and place it on her stomach so you'll be reminded!

you can envision her pouting with knitted eyebrows in confusion if you drop some slangs and abbreviations that she can't keep up with (don't laugh at her pls 🥺🤏🏼)

sam: kys 🥰

you: ??? baby what do you mean by that ☹️

sam: What, y? I said, keep yourself safe? ☺️

you: oh my god.

she didn't care much for board games, since the crowd she's been into has either avoided her or she's a part of sketchy ones ;(

however she eagerly wanted to learn when she met you! sam says it's also pratice for her. she liked scrabble a lot, idk i envision her as someone who reads when she has the time.

if you're a foreigner, i can see sam studying more than basic phrases of your native language. she'll surprise you, handwritten or sam will randomly blurt them out. she rlly wants to know you better this way <3

sam lets you win in board games btw, you caught on after like 3 times of playing with her and you called her out of it

sam simply raised her hand in defeat, giggling about it. in reality, she just enjoys spending time with you hence why she doesn't mind letting you win. it's also for her to have a reason to invite you eventually on game nights with the 3/4 of the core four ;(

sam loves seeing you bond with her other loved ones: tara, mindy, chad <3

she's pretty great with words, but sam doesn't express much out of fear of fucking things up. however, when she does, it's the sweetest thing ever

doesn't care if her partner is shorter or taller, you will GET forehead kisses, regardless! she tugs you close and gives you one whenever she sees you or before you say goodbye

if someone is bothering you i can see her being very protective. if she's present, sam will have a hand around your waist tightly. wouldn't hesitate to verbally call them out - she's straightforward. if she's not: sam will joke about being a loomis - that they should watch out for her (she looks adorable because she's gentle with you. in reality, sam is for REAL. she's ready to pounce on them omfg)

wordlessly passes you the utensils first before getting hers whenever sam eats with you

i can see that in general, sam expresses her love and care through acts of service and physical touch. she tends to be nonverbal at times due to her trust issues. be patient with sammy! ;(

doesn't know how to say sorry when she accidentally messes things up. she either cooks for you or does something to help you as her way of extending an olive branch about that disagreement that happened

speaking of: the core four will tease her of being called "sammy" like it's the softest thing she has ever been called!! with saccharine voice, "oh look, it's sammy, precious (y/n) sugarplum is waiting for youuu" and sam rolls her eyes at their silliness 😭

sam doesn't expect anything in return, the simple gestures really, she does it voluntarily to express that she cares for you. but still it moves her when you reciprocate you swear that you'll see her teary eyed !!!

[thlayli-ra]

The Spider and the Fly

Characters - John Cena, CM Punk

Pairing - John Cena/CM Punk

AU - Winner's Room AU

Rating - Explicit

Warnings - Winner's Room, blood, concussion, choking, rape/non-con, dubcon, Heel!Cena

Words - ~3k words

Summary - Cena claims his Winner's Rights from Punk... and sends a message!

Wanted to get this out before Raw tonight will probably ruin it 😅

For @stripeydani , @d-lanx , @selamat-linting and @are-we-really-doing-this and all the other Punkena shippers out there. Umm but.... I'M REALLY, REALLY SORRY ABOUT THIS!!!! FORGIVE ME FOR I HAVE SINNED!!!!

*** Please note the tags! You have been warned!***

He found Punk in his private locker room, sitting slouched on the far bench with his head in his hands. As soon as he noticed John enter however he slowly straightened up, swiping his hand back over his hair. Cena noted the subtle curl on Punk's lips, the slight softening of his red, puffy eyes, like he had been expecting him. Or hoping he would.

'Hey,' Punk said and a heavy silence hung between them, a membrane as fragile as a bubble, one finger poke away from popping. Punk moved first, the tattooed man getting to his feet with a groan as his aching bones creaked and hobbled towards him. John tensed, readying himself for a confrontation. Instead he was offered a single taped hand. 'Congratulations... Winner.'

Winner! The word sounded strange on Cena's tongue, like a bitter pill he had trouble swallowing. Not that he was unaccustomed to winning; he had enjoyed the lion's share of victories throughout his storied career and was a sure-fire entrant for the Hall of Fame one day.

No, the issue was that he'd won... against Punk!

For over a decade now, Punk had been his banana-peel opponent. The last time he'd defeated him on a Premium Live Event was back when they were still called Pay-Per-Views. Elimination Chamber 2011 to be exact when, just like tonight, he'd eliminated Punk last to become the overall winner. After that, they'd wrestled five times on major events yet Punk had emerged victorious each and every time. He had John's number, could see every one of his Five Moves of Doom coming and counter them effortlessly. No matter what John did, Punk had a knack of running rings around him, all while wearing that unbearably smug grin on his pierced lips.

But things were different now. They were older, slower, balding and greying and that lip ring was now a sad distant memory. But that wasn't all.

Cena stared down at the open palm, thinking back to that moment in the ring when he had extended the same olive branch to Punk, remembering the way the younger man had shook his head, hushed out a 'no', then embraced him in a hug. Now, with the roles reversed, the message was still the same. 'No,' John said at last then rushed forward and wrapped Punk up in a hug of his own. The tattooed man sighed contently, sinking into his Winner's arms he pressed his face against Cena's shoulder.

They lingered there, wrapped up in in each other's warmth, the rest of the world melting away until there was only him and Punk, only them, only this moment. Whatever else existed beyond that door ceased to matter.

'I'm sorry.'

Another echo from the chamber. Punk didn't so much as flinch. 'Don't be,' he said, 'I missed you.'

The ghosts were surrounding them, both men haunted by what had transpired before, but then, hadn't it always been this way? Punk and Cena. Cena and Punk Their legacies entangled, tethered together with unbreakable chains. 'I missed you too,' Cena replied and went to lift Punk's chin with his hand-

But it only broke the spell, the younger man blinking back to reality when he caught sight of red smears marring John's fingers. 'You're bleeding!' Punk exclaimed and in that moment it reverted back to what it used to be. Punk taking charge. 'Sit down. I'll fix you up.'

Cena smiled, enjoying the welcome taste of familiarity. They'd always had this kind of dynamic between them with Punk opting to be the one handling the reigns. Everybody believed Punk was a sub, and for the most part they were right; he got off on being dominated and beaten down. They all witnessed how sweetly the tattooed man writhed with pain, the way he would open his legs as he lay face-down on the mat, suffering beautifully as blood poured down his twisted features.

But how easily they forgot that other side of CM Punk. The one that liked to dangle a hapless victim on the end of a string then twitch his little finger to make them dance. His theme music was 'Cult of Personality' for a good reason; he liked to take poor, broken souls under his charred wings and mould them into his latest devotees. People went insane for Punk - look at Drew, look at Seth - whether they wanted to or not and very few were ever aware of the demon's curse until it had already devoured them whole.

That included Cena. Their first match together, when John had tried to call the plays and Punk had scoffed before putting John in his place quicker than a whipped dog, had changed something in the older man's brain chemistry. Before, he thought Punk was a scraggly misfit, petulant and difficult but after that match, he rapidly became one of John's favourite opponents. He liked Punk being in charge, he liked being able to switch his brain off and let himself be lead for once.

'I said 'sit'.'

John obeyed and took a seat on the bench while Punk grabbed up a towel and headed through to the showers. Left alone for a brief spell, John felt the mask slip from his face. His lips stiffened, his eyes darkened, losing that sparkle of innocence they once held. Yes, things were different now. This time when Punk came to gleefully gnaw on John's soul like a chew toy, the way he always did, he would find nothing there but a festering hole.

'What am I gonna do with you, John-Boy?' Cena swiftly put the mask back on, smiling sweetly at the tattooed man as he wrung the excess water from the towel in the doorway of the shower room. 'Didn't even think I was that rough with you this time.' Punk look up and returned the soft smile, a cheeky light dancing in his gentle hazel eyes.

'You weren't,' John replied, his voice sounding gruff and course in the peace of the locker room. He cleared his throat to sand off the rot. 'Trust me.'

'I do,' Punk said, setting off an invisible spark in the older man's chest, exciting him, 'but if I was man-handling you like you say, then how the hell did you get the pin on me?'

Pin? He hadn't won by pinfall. How did Punk not know that...

Cena thought back to the closing moments of the Chamber. The stomp from Rollins had been brutal, smashing Punk's skull right into the thinly padded steel on the outside of the ring. The worst part was that the tattooed man didn't even see it coming and didn't have a chance to protect himself as his brow collided hard. Now, scanning his eyes over the other man, Cena noting the large welt bruising Punk's forehead, the way he leaned too heavily on the doorframe for support, how sluggish and clumsy every one of movements were.

And in that moment, a wonderful realisation broke on him like a radiant dawn. Punk was concussed, his brain entirely scrambled. He couldn't even remember the end of the match!

'I guess I just wanted it more,' Cena said. Careful there, John. Don't give the game away just yet.

Punk snorted with derision as he stumbled closer. 'Not a chance,' he rebutted, 'I wanted that win more than anybody else in that cage.'

Oh Punk, you're really not that naive, are you? To think that just because you were the only one (that mattered) in the Chamber who's never main-evented Wrestlemania that you were the only one who cared? Punk moved in close to grab up Cena's soiled hand and rub it clean with the damp towel. John watched him, his gaze locked tight as a sniper's rifle. Punk's hazels flicked up briefly, caught him staring and paused, their faces inches from each other.

John's fingers found Punk's dishevelled hair, his hand gliding through the sweaty strands until it clasped the back of his head and pulled him in. Their lips found one another, both men opening wide to welcome their dear friend in. Punk's mouth was warm and moist albeit empty without the tongue bar and even though he'd stopped chewing gum in the ring, it still tasted as sweet as cherry pie, the rich red tang bursting with juices beneath its buttery outer layer.

While they kissed, Cena artfully closed his powerful thighs around Punk's slender waist, locking him in. The Venus flytrap closing its mighty jaws around the fly after luring it in with its nectar.

You wouldn't know, Punk. You wouldn't know because you've never tasted it but closing the Showcase of the Immortals once, twice, five times? It was never enough. It's an urge, a need, a hook that fastens itself deep into a person's lip and hauls them in, much like what I'm doing to you right now.

His other hand trailed down Punk's back, feeling each droplet of sweat catching in the folds of his skin, until it came to rest at his hip, delicately teasing the waistband of his trunks.

Punk pulled away from the kiss abruptly. 'Cool your jets, John-Boy,' he scolded the older man in his best commanding tone, the one that once turned Cena's insides to putty. 'First, we deal with the bleeding then we can have fun.'

John watched as Punk grasped his hand again to wipe the last of the blood off, his expression unchanging, a being made of granite, grey and cold. He had grown tired. Tired of the posturing and the constant need to pander to the masses. His whole career he'd been a victim to the whims of the crowd. They loved him, they hated him. If Cena won, they rioted. He was a boring do-gooder who couldn't wrestle and buried other talent. Then, in that Chamber, when he and Punk had finally come face-to-face, they started to chant.

Let's go Cena! CM Punk!

Let's go Cena! CM Punk!

Memories came flooding back. To times when he was despised by anybody over the age of ten, to when he was seen as a corporate stooge selling out. To when they all put their adoration on a skinny runt from the indies with slicked back hair and a Pepsi tattoo. Punk was a damn dirty heel back then and they revered him, raised him to become the biggest babyface in the company overnight to where he even began outselling Cena's merchandise. He understood why, he'd been there and heard the Pipebomb live, the words spilling from pierced lips like venom. He could see the appeal of CM Punk - the rage, the fire, the danger. It had sucked him in just as easily.

The hand stroking back and forth along Punk's waistband refused to relent until it needed to do more than tease. Without warning, John pushed his hand inside, under the trunks, under the speedo, to grab his trophy between his legs. Punk let out a loud yelp and froze. The fly now paralysed by the spider's bite, ready to be bound up tight and devoured.

'Fuck John, I told you to wait until I'd finished.'

'Then finish,' John rolled his fist along Punk's already semi-hard dick, lavishing in the whimpers it drew from the tattooed man.

'Fine.' Punk grit his teeth, fighting against the sensations wracking his senses. Fighting his basic desires. Fighting. Just like out in that Chamber when he'd kicked out from a Pedigree, kicked out from a Stomp, kicked out from an AA. Again and again. Always fighting.

Never give up, right?

John watched the lines in Punk's face crinkle with every sloping pull of his large hand, spied the crow's feet deepen as his eyes lazily blinked, getting hazy with lust. Just a little more...

Punk wiped the last of the blood, then examined John's hand. Knotting his brow he turned it over, inspecting the back. 'I can't find it,' he said, and John let the sickness take hold, the darkness creeping into his features. 'John, where's your wound?'

Cena smiled. Not that poster boy, all-American smile that made the girls swoon and the kids cheer. Not the cute, dimply smiles he often shared behind closed doors with Punk whenever they found themselves in each other's company. No, he sneered, like a python that finally had its coils wrapped taut around its prey.

'It wasn't my blood,' he said.

The knot deepened. Punk trying to solve the conundrum after only hearing half the riddle. 'Then... who's was it?'

Cena just stared back, quirking his brows.

'John?' He tried that commanding voice again, utterly oblivious to the switch happening between them, how their roles were rapidly reversing. 'Who's blood was it?' Cena refused to answer beyond his vicious sneer. Watching as it all clicked into place in the other man's foggy mind. '...Cody? What did you-? CODY!'

Punk tried to get away but John's legs were locked tight around him like a snare, tightening the more the rabbit struggled. The hand that was only moments ago being tended to so gently by the tattooed man now grabbed him by the throat. Using his superhuman strength, Cena spun Punk around, sending his spine crashing hard into the wall. Punk struggled, beating his fists against the arms that held him. Always fighting. But the more he writhed like an insect stuck on flypaper, the more he became trapped, Cena squashing him tight into the small recess.

'It's too late, Punk,' John informed his prize with a face now devoid of human emotion.

'GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!'

'Stop yelling.'

'FUCK YOU!'

'Fine. I know exactly how to shut little punks up.' The fingers on Punk's throat pressed tighter, pushing into his windpipe. The shouting stopped instantly as Punk's face began to turn a deep pink. Their gazes met and Cena admired the way Punk's red-rimmed, tear-bitten eyes struggled to focus on him. His head injury raging inside his skull. Would he remember this moment too?

He'd make damn sure of it!

It was too easy to rip Punks' flimsy little trunks down, freeing his rock-solid cock. John suppressed a chuckle at the sight as he unbuckled his belt and jorts with his free hand and let them fall to his ankles. 'Sit,' he ordered the younger man, shoving him down by the grip at his neck until he was slouched against the bench, his erect cock standing like a flagpole. Never once releasing his grip on his trophy's throat, Cena mounted him, pushing himself down onto Punk's dick until it broke through his ring of muscle. Punk grimaced, his inked fingers weakly digging into Cena's wrist as he brutally ground his hips down onto him, forcing him further and further in until he was buried deep.

'You surprised?' Cena taunted his prize, who squinted up at him pleadingly, trying to gasp in air. 'This is always how we do it, right?'

John started to bounce, feeling Punk's cockhead rub up and down his passage. And every so often while he rode his trophy, he squeezed Punk's neck a little tighter. See, the problem with the STF is that his opponent was always facing away so he never got to see their expression as he applied the pressure and in the Chamber, when Punk was being cruelly crushed beneath Cena's weight, his little porcelain body going limp as he passed out, the sensation had felt so delicious that Cena wished with all his heart he could see the life fade from Punk's eyes himself.

Now here, in his Winner's Room, he got his opportunity. His eyes never once leaving Punk's face. Watching as his eyebrows steepled up pleadingly, meeting in the middle like two hands touching in prayer. His eyelids drooped over his glassy hazels while his mouth hung open. Cena hooked his finger in, dragging it across his slack lower lip.

Yes, things had changed and this was how it was meant to be. With Cena on top, the king on his throne and everybody else firmly beneath him. He'd understood the moment he'd witnessed Punk, dazed from Seth's vicious final stomp, hanging limply, half-suspended by the bottom rope with his ass up, begging to be bred like a prize bitch in heat. He had relented to this little slut for too long and it was time to finally stamp his authority on him like a brand.

He punctuated that sentiment with another savage drive onto Punk's cock. His trophy was failing now, going under, so Cena grabbed his own throbbing cock and pumped it urgently, pushing himself over the edge. He came with a grunt, soiling his trophy's stomach and thighs with his red hot cum. After catching his breath for a moment, he stood up, yanking himself free of Punk's dick. It flopped, his erection wilting like a flower in the frost.

Then finally, Cena released the hold on his neck. Punk fell, collapsing to the floor at John's feet. The older man admired the view as he pulled his pants back up and buckled them securely. Once dressed, he nudged the lifeless corpse at his feet with his toe, laughing as he placed his sneaker against Punk's head and shoved it into the dirt, just like he had done with Cody only moments before.

'Well Punk,' he spoke aloud, his voice booming against the eerie quiet of the locker room, 'while you lay there, hopefully as uncomfortable as you can possibly be, I want you to listen to me.' He bent down low, closer to Punk's ear. 'I don't hate you Punk. I don't even dislike you. I like you a hell of a lot more than I like most people in the back. I just hate this idea that you're the Best in the World.'

Grabbing a fistful of hair, he lifted Punk's heavy head off the floor, watching as a line of drool ran from his lips to the tiles below.

'Because you're not. I'm the best!'

He let go, heard the crunch of Punk's face hitting the ground then stood up. Grabbing one of Punk's towels he wiped himself clean as he left the carnage behind in his wake.

'And I'm gonna remind each and every one of you.'

[a-not-so-clean-blog]

Quincy x male reader smut

Hunted

Primal play. Hurt/ comfort. General anxiety

2900 words

It was a stupid bet. You were frustrated because you felt that he was being over protective. The feelings had been building for a while but you simply reached your boiling point. Normally you didn't mind, you knew how protective he can be, especially because he's watched so many people he's cared about die. However, today you were tired and just wanted to go for a hike by yourself. Quincy of course didn't want you to go alone because you could get lost or hurt. Be it a wild beast, poacher, or one of his own hunting traps, the forest was filled with unseen dangers. The conversation turned into you yelling at him for making you feel weak. After you finished yelling he calmly asked if you'd like to prove to him you could survive on your own. A game of tag. All you had to do was touch him and make it back to the cabin.

Easy enough, right?

You should not have challenged him. You were running in circles, hopelessly lost in the middle of his woods. The winding game trail turned into wild, untouched forest making you lose any sense of direction you had. You would have felt completely alone if not for the nagging feeling of burning amber eyes on you from the darkness.

The leaves crunching underneath your feet, the occasional snap of a twig in the distance and the rustling of wind in the trees. Besides that there were no other sounds, everything was eerily still and not even birdsong could be heard. It felt dangerous, like you were being stalked. Well, you were being hunted. He was like the moon, always following, always watching, and always just out of reach.

You knew he was close, he had to be, but there were no physical signs of him anywhere. No footprints, no broken branches, nothing. Nothing but this nagging feeling and the hair on the back of your neck standing on end.

You had always felt safe with Quincy. He was always someone you could lean on for support, but what do you do when all that strength that supported you targets you instead. When the loving lazy teddy bear turns and bares its fangs.

Anxiety steadily grew as the night grew longer and shadows danced in the moonlight. One wrong step and the darkness threatened to swallow you whole. Hours passed and your hands started shaking, your legs were tired, and your nerves were shot. Every sound coming from just beyond the tree line only served to worsen the intense feelings of fear.

“I give up.” Your voice cracked. “Quincy, please come out. I want to go home. You win.” Your throat was tight from stress and croaked under the strain. Your vision blurred as your eyes became glassy with tears that threatened to spill at any moment.

No longer melting into the chorus of nature, the distinct sound of footsteps rustled in front of you. How he got in front of you without you noticing, especially considering his size, you have no idea, but that didn't matter right now. You run into his arms full force, throwing yourself into him and he doesn't even need to brace himself. He was ready, waiting for you, to welcome you back into his embrace. A few hot tears rolled down your cheeks and soaked into his shirt. An overwhelming feeling of relief flooded you as you held him in a vice grip. Afraid that if you loosened even a little bit that he would disappear into the darkness once again.

Physically and emotionally exhausted you were now only being supported by Quincy's strong arms wrapped tightly around you. After feeling scared and alone for so long right here felt like the safest place in the world. Your chest heaved as you tried to take calming breaths. Seeing how you were failing to calm yourself down Quincy's large hand rubbed up and down your spine trying to help. He spoke slowly, words of comfort, but everything was muffled and distorted by the sound of your own pounding heart.

Guilt tugged at his heart the entire time he was watching over you. He knows you saw him as a predator even though he was genuinely acting as a protector. Scaring away monsters that lurked in the woods and even disarming a few of his bear traps so you wouldn't fall into them. Not a single moment past where you weren't his top priority. Yet, the more he watched you the more the strange feeling grew in him…

He picked you up, grabbing you with a little more force than was necessary, and started making his way back to the cabin. Soft words of apologies fell from his lips, but you were still too overwhelmed to hear it.

He knew you were never in any real danger, not with him lurking in the shadows. However something about the way your once bold and defiant movements became smaller, more cautious, and almost prey-like as you ventured deeper into unknown territory flipped a switch in his mind. Normally letting his prey fall into a trap was his preferred method but something about actively hunting you awakened something deep in his mind, a feeling that he has always ignored and pushed back down into the darkness. He was a man, but something about you made him feel like he was something else entirely. A hunter, predator, maybe he was simply another beast that roamed the woods.

All he knew is that he ached for you, hungered for you. Now that he had you he struggled with what to do next. Torn between comforting or devouring you.

You left yourself open to so many opportunities to get gobbled up by him or any other animal. He lost track of how many times he was ready to pounce on you, sweet, oblivious you. Now once again you were completely vulnerable as you rested from your ordeal. He watched the broken rise and fall of your chest slowed into something more rhythmic, as the sound of your gentle breathing enchanted him more.

For now he can swallow his instincts and make sure you're taken care of. He's done enough to hurt you today and it would be bad if he lost himself to his desires.

You took the cup of water and snack he gave as a peace offering. It helped to calm you a bit more. The stale taste of anxiety being replaced by the sweet fruit. He moved to sit next to you on the bed, gauging your reaction. He knows he went too far but he still didn't want you to be mad at him. Maybe he's being greedy thinking that way, but you didn't try to move away from him so that was a good sign. He put his hand on your back and his stomach twisted when he felt your heart thundering under his fingers. It's been almost an hour since your little game ended and the adrenaline still coursed through your veins. Maybe that was why he wanted you so bad. Whatever scent you were giving off was pure excitement to him.

Before you knew it Quincy was on top of you. One hand on the small of your back pulling your hips together, and the other hand right beside your head supporting his weight so he wouldn't crush you. You were completely caged and the kiss was rough and famished. He bit your lip just hard enough to make you yelp, but that was enough to snap him back to his senses.

He froze as he hovered just an inch above your face. His eyes dilated till they were almost black with only a small ring of copper surrounding the void. He was panting heavily and he knew that he lost himself. A look of fear and guilt etched into his face. You were still breathing heavily and he could still feel your pulse racing even through your clothes. You must have been terrified. Of course you were, he was nothing more than a beast. “Sorry…” His voice a quiet rumble.

The moment he pulled back your hand shot up and grabbed his collar. Every symptom he mistook for fear melted into something else. A need that formed in the pit of your stomach. Maybe part of it was fear, but maybe, just this once, you liked it.

His eyes went wide in surprise and your brain almost entirely shut off. Not being able to think of any words to express how you were feeling you simply decided to grind your hips against his. The rough material of your pants pushing against your cock as you rub against Quincy's bulge.

For a moment his eyes glazed over, something primal trying to take over but he's desperately fighting against. It was stupid but even after everything that happened today you just wanted to be ravaged by the man on top of you. Was it because he was actually showing initiative and making the first move? Whatever the reason you wanted more.

“Don't stop”

Two little words was all it took for him to pounce on you again. His lips crashing into yours with a passion you could taste. He all but tore the clothes from your body, leaving you totally exposed underneath him. The air in the cabin was cool compared to the heat he was radiating. You could feel his muscles were bound tight like a spring, moments away from exploding but he still held himself back.

You two have had sex before, but you were always the one in control. He would spend half an hour just making sure your ass could take him comfortably, and you would ride him at your own pace. He was always careful about not grabbing you too hard or leave any marks. So gentle and cautious, he was always treating you like glass.

But not today.

He broke the kiss just long enough to lift his shirt over his head and discard the useless fabric. Large muscles curated over years of rough living made him a sculpture of perfection. Small scars littered his skin but the moment you reached out to touch him you had your hands pinned above your head. In that moment you could have sworn you heard a low growl come from his throat, but any thoughts were quickly dismissed as his tongue and teeth attacked your soft neck. His free hand teasingly ghosting your cock only to slip a finger into your ass. It was impossible to hold back your moans as he left a trail of hickeys down your neck and chest. Sharp bites comforted by a wet lick before moving to the next spot.

Soon he slipped in another finger. Moving his whole hand he was practically fucking you with his thick fingers already. You weakly pulled at his hand binding your wrist, not trying to break free but wanting to pleasure yourself more. Your cock twitched, craving the same attention that Quincy was giving to your hole.

Without warning he pulled his fingers from you. The feeling of emptiness made you whimper as your ass tried to squeeze around nothing. Though you were nowhere near as loose as he normally made you.

He finally released you to take off his pants and free his cock. It stood proud, just as long, fat, and monstrous as always.

The way he looked down at you sent a chill down your spine. It was like he was picking you apart with his eyes. Like he could see your every weakness and desire, and he was looking for the perfect opportunity to pounce.

You averted your eyes for only a moment and in a flash he settled between your legs. One leg by his waist and the other he pulled up to his shoulder, giving himself the perfect angle to dive in.

He wavered for a moment, a moment of clarity in his lust. He leaned in close to you, close enough where you could feel his ragged breath dance on your skin. “Tell me to stop.” You could hear the slight tremble in his voice. If you asked him to stop he would. You know he would. However, stopping is not an option today. Not for either of you.

“Fuck Quincy. I need you.” Your voice was breathy but clear. It made his heart race and his mind go foggy.

Slowly but firmly he pushed his cock into your tight ass. He felt so much bigger than usual because of the little amount of prep. You almost screamed when he finally bottomed out. His chest heaved as he made himself go slow. The steady rocking of his hips became faster and harder until he was slamming into you like a beast in rut.

Grunts and moans filled the room, as did the sound of skin slapping. He grabbed your cock and started pumping. The growl that he gave when the stimulation made you tighten on his dick almost made you cum.

“Ah-aah Q-Quincy!” You weren't going to last much longer. Not when Quincy is looking at you with that hunger in his eye. Like he would wreck anything or anyone if it got between you and him. Maybe you were his prey, but more than that you were his.

Every moan and mewl you made just made him harder and further fed his primal urges. He didn't even try to stop himself from sinking his teeth into your neck, right under your jawline. Leaving behind a clear mark, a claim that couldn't be hidden by clothes.

“F-fuck, I'm gonna- nnnnh-” Your back arched as you cum hard onto your chest and stomach. He continues to jerk you off as he fucks you, making your head swim and sparking your skin with overstimulation.

With a final hard thrust he releases his cum deep inside your guts, painting your insides white. He let out a grunt as he filled you up.

As you both catch your breath he looks at you with such a desire that you haven seen before. Your head and heart were filled with emotions you couldn't hope to name but they were welcome nonetheless.

He pressed his large frame against you so you could feel the vibration of his voice. Low and sultry. “Mine.” Without warning he started moving his hips again. You were already seeing stars from the pleasure but this was overwhelming.

You don't know how many times you had cum, but Quincy never stopped. Not until your ass was overflowing and dripping with his hot thick cum. The only reason he stopped was because he could see you fighting true exhaustion and losing. Struggling to simply keep your eyes open even with him pounding you into the mattress.

When he did pull out your ass hole gaped, still remembering the shape of his cock. The cum that dropped onto your skin soon turned cold in the open air. You couldn't bother moving or cleaning up though and let yourself fall into sweet unconsciousness.

Quincy watched over you for a little while as you fell asleep. He still had the stamina to continue, but what was the point if you couldn't look him in the eye as he marked his claim on you. After he watched your breathing steady and your expression shift from an exhausted ecstasy to a peaceful contentment he let out a sigh and got to work.

It was uncomfortably warm when you woke up. Like you were sleeping just a foot away from a fire pit. You tried to move but quickly found you were being held in place. Behind you Quincy held you in a bear trap like grip. The more you squirmed to get up the tighter his arms coiled around you. Still, he was conscious enough not to squeeze too tight.

“Quincy, let me up. I'm dirty..” you try and nudge him awake but he just grunts in response. “Quincy…”

“Go back to sleep. You're fine.” He grumbled with no intention of letting you go. After everything he did last night his heart aches at the idea of you not being in his arms or surrounded by him. A feeling that was contrasted by the guilt he had for being rougher with you than he wanted.

His disgruntled comment was right though. Your skin was clean and dry, all except for between your ass cheeks. You also became acutely aware of the bite marks and hickeys that covered every inch of your exposed skin. Not that Quincy was much better, his skin littered with red scratches and a few hickeys of his own. The events of last night fully dawned on you and made your heart race again. Flashes of feral Quincy filled your mind. He was daunting and devoted, scary yet tender. You naively thought he was tame but never truly got to peek at his wild side until now.

He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his nose brushing against a particularly sensitive bite and making you shiver.

“Rest. We will get up later.” His voice was back to its normal soft tone. So different from the primal growl in his voice last night. Hopefully you'll get to hear that voice again soon, but for now it's best not to fight him and just enjoy the quiet comfort he brings.

[fanficsdumpomg]

John Dory Boyfriend Headcannons

*John Dory and y'all met during his brozone days, you were in a band that frequently opened for them. You both met during an afterparty and you hit it off.

*John Dory and you would constantly spend time after shows, you got closer to his brothers during this time as well and became like a big sister to baby Branch. However, as much as you cared about John Dory you never wanted to take your relationship to the next level for fear of crazy fans.

*Your relationship came to a head after the big brozone concert where John had wanted to perfect the perfect family harmony, you didn't hear from him after the show so you went back to his family's pod to discover they had all quit the band and left baby branch alone.

*Feeling angered and Sad at JD's disappearance and leaving his brother behind you decided to help Rosiepuff take care of Baby Branch. After Rosiepuff's death, you however became like a parent to to branch.

*In the years that followed Branch had grown out of his shell and met his bff now girlfriend Poppy who helped him become a better person. You couldn't be more proud of him but where did this leave you? You spent so long taking care of him what were you going to do now?

*These feelings continued to build but you pushed it down with hobbies, these feelings exploded however on the day of Bridget and Gristle's wedding an unexpected guest appeared.

*JD was back and you were pissed not only for leaving you without a single word but only now showing up when he needed something from his brother.

"Y/N, I'm sorry...I was so young and angry I didn't give anything else a second thought but I have never stopped loving you."

*You didn't accept his apology and wanted nothing more to do with him but when Branch had agreed to go on the rescue mission to save Floyd you immediately wanted to go feeling that motherly instinct to protect Branch Arrise again. Also, you could take care of cute little Tiny diamond who had managed to sneak his way on Rhonda so this was a win-win for you.

*Getting in Rhonda, y'all set off to find Spruce and came across Vacay Isle; where a spruce turned Bruce now worked with his wife and family. After some convincing you guys managed to get Bruce to come along but not before performing to show/prove to his kids that yes, he was in a band.

*During the performance you were glad to see how happy Branch was with his brothers again and when he pulled Poppy on stage, John Dory pulled you up on stage as well where y'all performed the last verse of the song.

"I forgot how fun it was to perform with everyone... especially you <3."

*Okay, JD still has the band charm you see; but it will not work on you you tell yourself no matter how much you blush.

*Moving on with Bruce, you were well on your way to collect Clay and on the way over you were finally civil enough that you and JD could have a talk about what the two of you had been doing the last 15+ years. You told John all about how you cared for Branch at that time (which John thanked you for) and John Dory talked about his time hiking the Neverglade trail.

"Sounds...interesting to say the least, you'll have to bring me on your next adventure JD." you said smiling resting a hand on his.

*You had finally reached Clay after Branch's brilliant yet gross plan to have Rhonda track Clay with his old Funder Underwear.

*Arriving at the abandoned gold course you meet Clay and Viva the leader of the putt-putt trolls and as it would turn out Poppy's long-lost sister.

*After Viva and Poppy went off to reconnect, Clay informed you of her tragic backstory on how she was separated from King Peppy and Poppy during the night of the troll escape. Clay also let you know that Viva is very protective over the trolls she protects here so unfortunately you would have to leave Poppy behind if you all wanted to get a move on to get to MT. Rageous.

*Unfortunately, Viva did discover y'all as you were about to leave and shut the gates effectively trapping you inside. You were however able to escape with Poppy due to Clay opening the gate again but left behind a broken-hearted Viva.

*Now you were on you were way to Mt. Rageous and the gang + poppy decided to have a little practice session which in your opinion was going very well until John Dory stopped it claiming it wasn't perfect enough. Feeling frustrated everyone lashed out and him especially Branch who was disappointed when he learned that his brothers planned to split up once again after they saved Floyd. He stormed out of Rhonda with a distraught Poppy following behind him

*You were incredibly angry not Just at John Dory this time but at the rest of them, how could they be so insensitive towards their little brother.

"You know what John Dory, you have hurt your little brother and me for the last time. You better hope when we get to MT. Rageous that he is okay 'cause I will end you!" And with that, you stormed off towards the back of Rhonda.

*And you stayed at the back of Rhonda till MT. Rageous where you were kidnapped by Velvet and Veneer. Velvet and Veneer had no use for you so they threw you for draining purposes but Velvet thought it might be cute to use you as a little good luck charm and captured you in one of her diamond earrings. Poppy and Branch confronted the two of them at the entrance to the rage dome and outed them as liars/frauds which prompted their roadshow in their car.

*Horrified you watched the brothers get drained as Branch, Poppy, and Tiny Diamond raced to save you on the MT. Rageous freeway. They eventually got aided by Bridget, Gristle, and Viva and managed to corner the Popstars on a boat.

*The fight was tough and they managed to free John Dory, Clay, Bruce, and You but not Floyd. And in one last attempt, the seven of you performed hoping to achieve the perfect family harmony. It worked and you were able to save Floyd at last, shattering the diamond prisons that trapped both you and the brothers.

"John Dory...getting kidnapped made me realize that I have never stopped loving you no matter how big-headed and stupid you are. The time we spent together these last few days has made me realize that you are still the silly goofy boy I fell in love with all those years ago." You said smiling.

"I love you too, Y/N!" he shouted with a grin pulling you into a kiss.

[misscinnamonroll16]

Bring you more brozone headcanons

Every once in a while, the bro slip up and call Bruce Spruce. He knows its just an accident and they'll probably apologize for it. It's happened a handful of times, a VERY tired Branch, a tipsy Floyd, a very upset Clay, and a fever streken John Dory.

All the brothers except Bruce have dated/are dating troll royalty. And Bruce is totally not a little upset/jealous.

Every so often Clay gets a wild hair up his ass and tries to fight John. It's the little brother instinct from when they were kids. He'd tried to fight JD and John Dory would just put his hand on Clay's forehead to hold him back. John can't do that now that they're older (mainly bc Clay is taller than him) but John has a lot more experience fighting so Clay still can't win.

The only brother John lets himself be semi vulnerable around is Bruce. Bruce is older, he understands how JD feels better. In other words, Bruce helped A LOT with taking care of the younger ones and that's often how him and John Dory bonded

Floyd will eat and drink after his brothers. He doesn't care, he's had worse things in his mouth.

John KNOWS how Bruce lost his virginity. Bruce lost it at a party with some girl, JD happened to be nearby for them walking out. He scolded Bruce and made sure to have a long talk with him (again) about safe sex.

All the boys have very distinct smells. JD smells very woodsy, like a forest after a fresh rain. Bruce definitely smells like the island, flowers, fruit and sea salt with a hint of baby powder. Clay has always smelt like books, smells like old papers, pencil lead and artificial grass now. Floyd didn't really have a smell coming out of the diamond prison but eventually he starts to smell like what you'd imagine rock stars to smell like, smokey, musky and a lil sweaty. Branch is a little bit of all his brothers, the woodsy smell from John, floral notes from Bruce, old paper from Clay, and a lil musk from Floyd.

When they were younger and were roughhousing, John Dory usually went WAY easier on the little bros than he needed to. Spruce however was often rough with them. It wasn't that he wanted to hurt them (accidents happened with the both of them) it just happened. He probably didn't realize his own strength

John gets his tongue pierced. needless to say, it's a very awkward encounter because he accidently moans.

Clay likes whispering smart ass remarks to whichever brother is closest (often Branch or Floyd) and denying it when he's called out.

Clay asked where Branch's arms are after Branch was born. Branch had been wrapped up after hatching and was being handed to Floyd and Clay was looking on.

Before John Dory dropped out of school, he was about one fight away from getting suspended. It was shortly after Branch was born.

Brandy had no idea trolls could store things in their hair. She just thought Bruce was really good and fast at getting things. It wasn't until she literally watched Poppy pull a camera out of her hair that she questioned it.

Floyd, Branch and John all have sensitive noses. Branch and JD from being the wilderness so much and Floyd because he was breathing in the same stagnate air. So they have very good senses of smell

I don't know if I already said this but the boys sleep in a troll pile. They like knowing the others close. It's especially helpful when one of them has a nightmare and shoots up in the middle of the night. Bruce and/or John waking up to comfort whoever had it.

All except Floyd and Bruce are caffeine addicts. John bc he's been drinking coffee since he was ten. Clay because he's constantly staying up late. Branch bc he was paranoid and would stay up for days.

[writingoddess1125]

Soo I wanted to imput my own culture on this one!

COD Men + König Dating a Jamaican Women

König

• You and König had been together for quite a while. Spending most of your guys relationship in Europe and in his home country.

• But when you make to offer of having him meet your family he is more then happy to accept!

• He didn't expect to take a plane to the tropicals however- Ending up in such a touristy area at first. Till you lead him off the beaten bath to a much more rural area to introduce him to your family.

• They are a but surprised at first, seeing such a large man. However accept him with open arms- Your Mummy especially.

• You handed your mother her drink, watching her as she looked at the new member of the family who was seated playing cards with your cousin- The shorts She'd bought clearly being a size too small to fit him comforbly.

• It was like she got the son she wanted the most- Immediately having him change into more comforble clothes. Fed him, and forced you to walk him around the prettiest parts of town.

• "Why does it feel like my Mum likes you more then me!?"

• Konig could only laugh at this and shyly disagree.

• However after your Mum took him shopping since she felt like he didn't have the proper clothes he couldn't disagree further.

• He absolutely adores the beaches of your home and spends so much time swimming he gets a golden tan in a short amount of time.

• "Gonna need to order some better shorts" You mumbled- not wanting him to have a wardrobe malfunction while around your family. Your mother laughing at this and patting your hip- "Wen yuh climb tall trees yuh get langggg branches-"

• "MUMMY!"

Gaz

• You decided that it was time for Gaz to meet your family, wanting to take that extra step together.

• They are so excited to meet him they start chattering away immediately- However Gaz figures out very quickly...

• He is more then thrilled. Having wanted to take that next step with you for quite a while- So when the plan arrived at your home he was so happy to see your family there to meet you and him there.

• He doesn't know what the fuck they are saying-

• They had accidently assumed he knew Patwah and were corrected by you quickly. Since they assumed he was Jamaican like you-

• "Wait it's not just an accent?" Gaz asks softly to you, Which leads to you explaining that it's a Creole language called Patwah.

• Your Aunty however seemed to take the liking to Kyle the most. Seeing him as great husband potential for you- As well as dropping 'hints' about a wedding. Which was amusing since she had the thickest of accents out of your entire family.

• "Kyle lov, Wi wud waan (Y/N) married yah inna di yard. A nuh eh ah luk gud place tuh marry an av babies?" (Kyle Love, we would want married here at home. Isn't it a pretty place to marry and have babies? )

• Gaz didn't know what she said per say- But he did year the word Married and Babies.

• He does have a blast however, going out dancing with you, drinking with your family and having a grand time- But most was being fed near constantly.

• "Nyam up Maaga bwoy" (eat up skinny boy)

• Gaz was satted there in the kitchen of your family home, Staring as your Aunty adds another massive scoop of Rice and Peas to his growing plate. Filled delicious foods he could only dream of back home.

• It seemed like there was no escape from this pleasurable hell- and he couldn't be happier

• Gaz nodded obediently as he took up more rice on his fork and continued to eat. You trying to tell your aunty to not force feed your boyfriend.

Soap

• You bring up wanting Johnny to meet your family after officially meeting his- Seeing how it would be fair and should be a fun experience.

• Seems he found his people-

• Of course he is more then willing! Seeing it as a fun get away as well-

• When he arrives his naturally cheery personality wins over your family quickly. Ends up having a blast with them the first day and eats so much he almost gets suck.

• There is a mild language barrier- However it was overcome rather quickly.

• Your cousin seemed to absolutely ADORE Johnny. Taking the two of you out to clubs and different bars around the area.

• "We should buy a place out here- for times like this" He said, Leaning against you as the two of you walk back to your families house.

• Finds out quickly that it's relatively cheap in parts and having his nice military paychecks went a lloonnggg way here.

• Adsolutely loves the drinks. The Ginger beer, the Red Strike, Sorrel.

• Adores them honestly!

• This man has met other half it seems as bottles seem to rain around him.

• "Yu Drunk?" Your cousin calls out to Johnny who is dancing against you with a bright smile on his face.

• "A'm Blootert!" He shouts. His accent so strong its funny-

• Johnny ends up so drunk, he's locked arms with your cousin, seated under the romada singing some imaginary song they had made up together.

Ghost

• You take the opportunity to get your hair braided as well- seeing how for once you don't have to pay an arm and a leg for it.

• It takes a lot of convincing on your part to get Simon to come meet your family. You'd been dating more then long enough and he finally agrees one day-

• However he still wears some form of mask- in his case a skull face mask that is still breathable while keeping him covered.

• Your family was a bit apprehensive of Simon of first- surprised by such a brooding figure you'd dragged with you.

• That was till your father stepped forward and welcomed Simon with open arms. Which lead to the rest of the family also being warm and welcoming-

• Simon accepts this and goes along with the kind greetings from everyone.

• Simon tags along, which surprises you. Ends up asking the hair dresser questions constantly.

• "Wah mek yu deh ask suh much?" Your hairdresser staps a bit-

• "I want to learn how- do I can help her do her hair or our future children's" He says bluntly and truthfully.

• Wins over the whole Salon just like that.

• He has never met a group so God damn stubborn then your family- He can refuse all he wants but ends up being given or dragged some place.

• Getting a step by step on how to do different braids by the nice women at the Salon who baby him- even buying him lunch too.

• The soilder taking the day with your father. The two just enjoying the day together- Simon even smoking with him a little which made him relax more then he expected (You weren't there to tell him-)

• Didn't want a drink- Now has 4 he has finished. Refused an addional plate of food?- He had 3 more and some fruit.

• The only person who wasn't pushy was your father. Who was as stoic and laid back as Simon.

• Simon enjoyed the relaxing time with your Father- The two sitting on the front patio with their drinks sipping away as they occasionally chatted.

• This day being the same, When Simon got up prepared to be dragged to a other fun active place. But instead your father waving him over to sit with him.

• Looking to you as you just nod for him to go do as he pleased-

Price

• By the time you came back, Both men were actually chuckling at some sort of joke together. That night you looking to Simon who laid in bed with you shocked-

• "My Dad actually likes you-" You say in disbelief. Simon only nodding and smiling at your words.

• By the next morning he is as red as a Tomato and sunburned to high hell.

• John is willing to meet your family. Finding it would he a nice holiday and fun overall since he hadn't been to the Caribbeans since he was first in the military.

• When arriving he did notice some stares, since he was so clearly military and learned the distrust was real.

• But your family was open to him in extending that olive branch to him.

• Your uncle however- took some convincing. Which ended up getting John hazed of sorts.

• "Mek wi si wah yu gat Brit-" Your uncle Said with a grin. John of course accepting a challenge. From drinking, Dancing and more. Which ended up with the two shit talking each other-

• By the end of the night John and your Uncle were as thick as thieves.

• John even proud of the hand rolled cigarettes your uncle had given him.

• "Don't take his cigarettes-" You say calmly. Taking the homemade rolled cigarette from your boyfriend and handing him a packed one instead.

• While you were with some of your cousins catching up John sat out on a chair with your Uncles and cousins. The group smoking cigars and cigarettes and chatting away.

• Seemed time was lost on the both of you as John sat out in the sun far too long. Ignoring the reddening of his skin-

• Your poor Boyfriend tho-

• "Fuck-k" John mutters, wincing as he sits down with his arms held out. Your uncle laughing at him-

• You spend the evening rubbing Aloe in his skin and fanning his skin to help ease the burn.

• "Burned noice an criss Hm?" Your uncle said with a laugh making John give a fake glare at the old man.

• "Ah fuck ya you old geezer-" John winced out making the men around him laugh hard at his suffering.

[hitchyboi]

🔨An Important Gift🔨

(Been a while since I last wrote a story but figured I'd give a try with the moment Bubba became Leatherface.)

Content Warning: Descriptions of gore, violence, death, brief mention of cannibalism. Unhealthy family dynamics. The usual Sawyer family fun

Word Count: 3,383

Newt didn't get a lot of folks, wasn't much there to bring them. An old rundown town that many had already fled from after the slaughterhouse started laying off men. Nothing but flat plains as far as the eyes could see with the occasional clump of gnarled twisted branches. Summertime was different however, with the warmer days and breaks from college semester or brutal workload many decided to travel. Traveling sometimes brings ya past old towns with nothing much more to offer aside from an ant eaten gas station and sleezy bar filled with bikers.

Hands sat down on the old bar stool with a heavy grunt followed quickly by a booming laugh. Raising his hand towards the familiar faced bartender for his usual drink of choice. His heart was still hammering behind his ribs, adrenaline pumping through his veins making his head feel lighter before he even got his first drink in his system.

"I know what that grin means, got yerself another win today?" The bartender makes conversation as she slides the Shiner bottle towards the large eagerly awaiting hand. Tipping his head back, Hands felt the cold liquid slide down his throat effectively quenching both his thirst and the heat. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand he looked back towards the woman, her name never having stuck with him, and nods his head. Lips pulling back with another wide smile that barred his canines with a heavy thump to his chest. The other racers surprisingly did well this time, and that made the win much more enjoyable. Seeing their excited faced with baited breath as victory was so close to their grasp only to plummet to despair as he snatched it away at the last minute. The utter lost of hope as they were forced into defeat was his favorite part. Hands could still feel the vibrations of the engine working its hardest to power the vehicle, the spinning of the wheels he knows were seconds away from burning out on him. One wrong move they could've blown out, he could have spun out but he knows his car. He's worked on that thing since the day he managed to buy it with money he saved for years. Turning it from a hunk of metal to a beauty that was a force to be reckoned with when he was in the drivers seat.

They took his photos, tried to interview him and get comments. There was screaming. There was cheering. Everything and everyone was gathered around him, focused entirely on him. But now, Hands just wanted a nice cold drink and some time to relax after all of the commotion. Sweat dripped down the back of his neck, blonde strands sticking to the damp skin as he finished his bottle and motioned for a second one. It's arrival was just as quick as the first but was accompanied with the sounds of the bar doors slamming open and the hustle and bustle of more people flooding into the old building. New people by the sounds of it, loud, brash and daring just about anyone to try and prove they weren't as indestructible as they felt.

Like maggots drawn towards a corpse the youngens moved straight towards the fighting pit, eager to place their names into the lonely town's mind no doubt. Calling it a pit was generous, more just a section of the bar that had the chairs and tables moved out of the way as the people grew more rowdy and irritable. First started as petty qualms and drunken idiocy but then betting came, and with that a way to pass time and gain entertainment. Hands' had his name written on that old chalkboard a few times in the past when he felt really pent up and had no other outlet. Eventually people stopped trying to challenge him due to his record. Except for new faces...

More drinks were swallowed down along with time itself, the sky grew dark long ago and there was no rush to leave. Hands lost track of how many fights had passed during that time, he hates to say it but those new faces sure did brawl well. Money kept getting passed around as tempered started to flare both from the wasted income and injured egos. Like a coyote who's leg was stuck in a barbed trap, lashing out at everyone despite knowing it's already lost. Teeth snarling and slobber flinging everywhere. The more they struggle the worse of a situation they ultimately wring themselves into. More money gets passed and more snarling is unleashed. Eventually those panic struck eyes and shiny slobbered lips turned towards Hands.

"Think you're real tough guys huh? I bet you can't win one fight against Hands over there!" One of the dogs challenged as a way to hide the tail tucked between his legs. One of the new faces, a wiry and lanky rat looking fella, looked towards Hands with a sneer from behind the security of their group's main face.

"That lug's just been sitting over there not doing shit!" The rat snickers and slinks past his barrier towards the silent blonde. Gaze still trained on his own bottle of beer despite the many looks locked on him. Watching the bead of condensation slowly tip over the curve of the glass and rush down to meet the many before it. Beady eyes looked the large man up and down with slight hesitance that quickly got replaced by hubris.. "Sure he's big looking but Daryl could take him easily! No sweat."

"Well, whaddya say... Hands?" The main face, Daryl, wears a matching smirk to the rat looking man. Staring down towards Hands with a predatory excitement. A brief eyeroll and nudge towards the rest of his mates at the other man's name. With a sigh Hands finally pushed his bottle to the side and addressed the scene before him, silent as ever with a frustrated twitch in the brows for his blissful buzz to have been interrupted.

Irritated or uncomfortable with the long moment of silence from their next toy the wiry rat had laughed in his face. Spittle flying out of his maw with an ugly high pitched yowl. "He's fucking silent! What? Can't even respond to him properly?"

"He's either dumb as shit or too scared to talk," Daryl laughs as the rat gets somehow even closer towards Hands. His warm breath hitting and fanning across his cheeks in an unpleasant way. Words never came easily for Hands, never did and never will. That don't mean he's dumb though. He worked hard to get where he was, worked for the recognition he deserves. Words didn't get him anywhere, cause he doesn't need them.

The meaty sound of skin colliding with skin sounding throughout the bar as the too close lanky man fell to the floor with a pathetic yelp, skull knocking against the bar table on his journey downwards. A low guttural growl echoed after as Hands looks from the prone man back towards the pit. Like a gator closing in on its prey, heavy metal plated boots stalked towards the youngens. Lips pulling back into a dangerous grin as regulars scrambled out of the giants way.

Daryl's face was a delightful mix of outrage and shock from the sudden assault. Faster then one would anticipate from a man with Hands' stature, looking near 7 feet tall now he was in motion. "Just... got lucky with a damn sucker punch." He grits his teeth with a sneer as the giant stalked closer, an air of excitement with every long stride. Hands could see two of the weaker bikers say something to Daryl but there was no ounce of care for the drag racer. One of their faces eventually twisted in distain as they bolted towards Hands and once again for that night the coyotes attacked.... but their opponent was no cowering prey.

The first biker went down easy, a swift kick to his shin was enough to make him stumble. Hands clasped his paws around his head with a quick jerk, a sickening crack echoed throughout the old building. Body falling to its knees then meeting the ground without an ounce of refusal, it was too easy really. Like those chickens out at the farm Grandpa occasionally asks Hands to deal with. That set off the other biker, ramming her shoulder into Hand's stomach and knocking him back a few paces. Sharp and metallic spikes continued to ram against his stomach, nicking and scratching at the man's leather riding jacket. Words launched from the biker's snarling maw that constantly fell to uncaring deaf ears, only being met with a deep and sinister chuckle. Bending his torso forwards, thick arms wrapped around the biker's body and lifting her up without trouble. A moment as her world flipped, eyes meeting the sight of metal tipped boots, caked in dirt and what looked to be rust. Blood racing towards her head making her sight briefly blur with a light fuzzy feeling.

Then the ground came...

Once... Twice... Thrice....

Skin breaking away to invite the rough flooring to her skull, splintering and cracking. Blood gushed from her head like a waterfall, down her mangled face and painting the floor in it's eye catching hue. There was an ear piercing scream a first, then a garbled whine that came along with desperate scratching against his sleeves. Then silence. Hands could feel the struggle leaving her body with each slam to the floor, the way her muscle tensed at first only to be forced to accept their own defeat. Another laugh fell past the giants lips as he dropped the now lifeless and paling body to the floor. His enjoyment was short lived as a blunt force slammed against his face full force, successfully forcing Hands off balance and colliding with the concrete himself. Hands slowly blinked as he gazed up towards the ceiling, unable to focus his sight on the beams that hung high above him. Warm liquid trailed down his face, pooling over his lips complimented with a throbbing wave. Heaving his skull to turn to the side, Hands could make out the figure of the largest Biker... what was his name again?... standing over him with the broken leg of a chair. White knuckles wrapped around the splintering wood now decorated with dots of crimson.

"What the actual fuck is your deal?! Why would you-?! You can't just-?!" Words broke through, yelled in his face as the throbbing reached from his nose towards the back of his head now. When was the last time he had gotten hit like this? Skull screaming and painting the surrounding area with his blood instead of others.. Probably when he first found this joint after his 18th. Back when he was fresh and thought he was stronger much like these pests. He wasn't fresh no more though, and unlike then Hands was stronger in more ways then one. Yet this rambunctious ego flying meat landed a solid blow...

A thick hand shot out to catch the second blow from landing, yanking the wood away from his assailant and throwing it to the side. "D-don't you fucking dare get back up!" The biker yelled as he looked back towards some of the remaining patrons. Eyes wide like a deer as he watched each head turn a blind eye, choosing to remain unknown to Hands' perchance for violence in favor of remaining intact themselves. Blood coated the tongue that ran along his teeth as Hands grasped one of the tables and hauled himself back to his feet. Spitting the thick mix of blood and saliva to the side, he looked back towards the biker as his heart hammered against his chest. The air was sweltering and felt thick enough to choke on, the gaze the stared down at the biker was not one of anger or outrage but rather pure glee. Sharp canines poked out of the ear slipping smile that stretched across the rugged face, blood staining the lower mouth and chin. Hands was on him in an instant, the biker was large but nowhere near a similar stature to the drag racer. Mounting over him, thick callused fingers wrapped around his throat and squeezed. Those same gleeful eyes now forced to be the only point of focus for the smaller man as the force had him sputtering for air. Eyes nearly popping as he struggled to grasp and scratch at the hands around his throat. The more he struggled the more pressure seemed to be added until there was a brief moment of respite. The pressure relented as air greedily was pulled into his lung. Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes and slipped down his cheeks as the pressure returned to the front of his shirt instead. Lifting his front half up and slamming him back to the floor, knocking the recently acquired air right back out. A yell ripped through the man's throat as his skull collided with the stained ground beneath him. Images of his friends recent similar demise reflooding his thoughts as he was lifted and slammed back down. Ever slam was accompanied with another yell, a yell of pain, of fear, for help. Each yell was met with a roar of laughter and mocker instead of help. Blood red smile and a laugh like roar stained the man's sight with each slam to his skull.

Blunt nails grabbed the thin flesh around the man's forehead, forcing the skin to break and rip open. Thick fingers wormed their way under the flesh and began to pull. Skin and fascia tore from muscle and bone, splitting away like melted cheese bit by bit down the man's face. Yells weakened to whines as the body beneath him lacked anymore strength to fight back. Lifting his arm up Hands held the newly skinned feature like a trophy. Matching bloody hand thwacking at his own chest as he stood over the biker. With a final sinister laugh he watched as the behemoth of a man placed the flesh overtop his face and Daryl saw himself.

...

White wooden door to an old family farm clicked closed as Hands returned. Grandpa never minded when family stopped by when needed, the house was always an open spot for family and that old couch kept in the living room was exactly where Hands wanted to be for the night. Certainly sounded better then driving all the way back to whatever shitty motel he was previously staying at while buzzed when this was much closer. Hands' yearning for rest was briefly interrupted by the sounds of hushed whispers and bare footed pitter patters coming from the kitchen. At nearly 3 in the morning, everyone that lived in the house should've been asleep. Grandma and Grandpa always went to sleep, stayed asleep and awoke at the same times everyday and Drayton followed his grandparent's schedules closely.

Quirking a brow from the sounds he turned directions and opened the door leading towards the kitchen instead and was met with the sight of his 3 youngest nephews frozen like deer in headlights. Nubbins and Bobby stood on either side in the kitchen, greasy hair tangled from what looks to have been a rough night and in Bobby's hand was... a stick of butter? Standing in between them was the youngest of them, Bubba, his little round body clutching onto a metal bucket as big bovine like eyes stared up at Hands brimming with tears at being caught. Shifting his weight Hands leaned against the doorframe as he tilted his head, the twin's taking his silence as a sign to action.

"Bubba was hungry! We... we just were gonna make him something to eat!" Bobby sprang to first, pushing the stick of butter to join the bucket in Bubba's arms.

"Yeah, yeah! He-he was real hungry! Wouldn't.. wouldn't stop pestering us to make him something, yeah!" Nubbins followed suit with his twin, grasping at and shaking their younger brother's shoulders for added effect.

Slowly nodding his head as he took in his nephews words Hands closed the distance and peeked into the mysterious bucket. Bubba gave a whine as he shakily held the bucket further out towards his uncle, the boy always had been terrified of getting into more trouble. Two thawing brains sat at the bottom and didn't look nearly close enough to be ready to cook just yet. Buttered brains. Raising his eyebrows with a gruff his gaze moved towards Bobby accusingly. Bubba was hungry yet they decided to try and make something known to be a favorite of the older twin? A gummy grin stretched across his pale cheeks, left with the reddish purple birthmark, as his hands placed themselves on his waist with faux confidence.

"Wh-what's in yer bag there?! D'you get us gifts again?" A sharp uneven nail pointed towards the bag slung over Hands' shoulder. A chuckle reverberating from his chest at his nephews attempt to offshoot the conversation. Honestly, Hands didn't really care, so entertaining his nephews 'distraction' was the path he chose. Shaking the bag down his arm he dropped it with a light thump and began digging around inside it. Nubbins and Bobby eagerly crowding around him and giggling, giggling on Nubbins' end. Bobby's always came out more as cackles. Bubba strayed further back as he shuffled from foot to foot, not seeming to realize the threat of punishment had vanished.

G-grandpa said you won another race, can.. can i comes with you next time? I-i wanna see yous race!" Nubbins bounces in place like a flea, fingers dancing around as he spoke excitedly. Hands have a small chuckle and nodded his head at his enthusiasm. Nubbins had really wanted to see this race but Drayton said he wasn't allowed to go. Grabbing the desired items Hands leans back and pushes them into their tiny greedy hands. An old pair of racing goggles found themselves in Bobby's dirty mits while Nubbins had acquired a collection of teeth Hands managed to nab off those bikers before he left knowing his nephew had started taken the hobby of crafting. The critters eagerly accepted their new possessions and scampering off to compare. With those two thoroughly content left little Bubba, though little seemed to be an understatement as time went. Seeming to grow much faster then the twins were now he's gotten proper food. Despite growing on step with a beeve the kid still cowered at the slightest raise in voice, the odd movement that seemed harsher then should and the leering gazes he thought was directed towards him at all times. The kid need some god damn confidence, the kid needed some strength. Hands had exactly the kind of strength the boy needed...

Lowering down to his knee Hands clasped the boy's shoulder with a softer smile directed towards him. Those glossy edges were still there but none seemed to fully drip over as of yet. Taking the bucket of brains out of his chubby hands he replaced it with his needed qualities. With quivering lips and shiny eyes the boy looked down at his gift, furrowing his eyebrows and looking back up at his uncle with a babbling sense of words. Hands smiled and motioned towards his face, blood long since dried and flaking off his skin trailing from his nose and downward. A small gasp fell from his lips as previously scared eyes took to a shine Hands much preferred the look of. Clumsily eager hands fumbled to position the skin over his own, the inside soft and plush against his plump cheeks with a warmth the boy always craved. As he looked back up towards his uncle a smile stretched across his hidden face, gaze tracing over the evidence of the skin's previous owner's abilities. Short thick arms lowered then slightly raised themselves on either side of his body as Bubba puffed out his chest in an imitation of his uncle.

Hands watched as Bubba turned and eagerly rejoined his older brothers in bragging about their individual gifts. Standing back up Hands glanced down towards the forgotten bucket of brains and stick of butter with a final thought. One last gift couldn't hurt... Gramps doesn't have to know.

[deuxcherise]

Cats vs Dogs

C/w: Unhealthy behavior, probably OOC Ayato Kamisato, yandere Ayato Kamisato, fem reader, reader calls Ayato "Husband" A/n: So you know the YouTube videos where the lady pretends to nom on her kitten's ears and paws and face? Thought it would be cute~ And who better than–ahem–the Inazuman Blue-haired Dog Lover? Haven't played Genshin Impact in a long time, but I tried my best. Enjoy~

Masterlist

If anyone were to inquire about cats and dogs to Ayato Kamisato, he would have chosen dogs over cats. Dogs are such loyal and obedient creatures. Rarely, do they bite the hand that feeds.

Like the sociable and responsible housekeeper, Thoma, who hails from Mondstadt yet found his calling here in Inazuma, working for the Kamisato clan.

It has been a long time opinion of this Lord Kamisato, and it would take a lot to change that.

“Stupid elders. Stupid omiai. Stupid Kamisato…”

A curious thing you were when he saw you for the first time. A woman from one of the branches of the “Holy Dogs”. You were crouched over, picking apart a poor, innocent flower in his family estate’s garden, grumbling to yourself how much you hated being dressed up and paraded around like some doll, and especially how stupid your supposed fiance was. All the while not knowing he was standing right behind you.

When you finally realized his presence, you quickly collected yourself and immediately replaced your unpleasant expression with a practiced smile in front of him.

“It is an honor to meet you, Mr. Kamisato,”  you greet him, hiding the wilting flower behind your back, much to his amusement. “Forgive me for wandering without a chaperone. I simply could not resist the sight of such a beautiful garden.”

You reminded him of a cat who had just been caught waiting at the door meowing all day for its owner until the owner walked in and now was trying to play nonchalant.

Adorable.

You piqued his interest. So he decided to accept the proposal from your family and marry you, mostly because of pressure from the elders, but also to have at least a little bit of fun as a husband.

However, ever since you've gotten married, you've been the perfect wife. Ever meek. Ever obedient… too obedient.

Even during your honeymoon, which you had both agreed not to consummate until you were comfortable (you still have to perform this duty at some point), you were completely content with being secluded in your own room without a single visit from him, your husband. Not one complaint was delivered to him.

Ayato had thought he’d made a mistake.

“HA! HA! I WIN! SUCK ON THAT, COUSIN!” you screech, pointing at your opponent triumphantly.

Ayato had spied on you from a distance as you participated in round after round of onikabuto battles with a male cousin of yours.

What a coincidence! It just so happened to be a hobby for Ayato as well. He became so excited to enjoy this hobby of his with you that he even let you choose from his personal collection of onikabuto to fight with.

“Oh, my apologies, Husband. I didn't mean to win…”

It irked him, how you put on your meek mask around him. That's not what he wanted. He wanted the you who had shamelessly made fun of your cousin for losing multiple times in a row!

He felt he needed to up the antics.

Call your husband petty, but unbeknownst to you, he decided to ban all staff, except for Thoma and a select few female staff, from interacting with or being seen by you. He had also made sure that every breakfast, lunch, and dinner included something he was told you hated, just to see you react.

You wipe your mouth gracefully with your napkin, before you tell your husband, “Please deliver my gratitude to your staff, Husband, for providing such delicious meals every day and night.”

Besides the meals, the most you'd do was inquire where most of the staff were, since you remembered seeing many servants roaming around the first time you visited the Kamisato Estate. 

Ah… it was starting to piss him off! It occurred to him how badly he wanted to be the only one to make you react, with vile thoughts such as… getting rid of everyone. Obviously, he couldn't do that, being the Kamisato heir and all, but it was most tempting…

It was by chance, during one of his strolls outside, he had encountered the sight of a woman holding a kitten and nipping at its paws and ears for a reaction. The kitten would cutely meow and push the woman away, but never hiss or scratch.

So he decided to try that on you. Multiple times.

Slap!

You gasp, hand reaching out to touch your husband's cheek, whom you had just slapped out of a fight-or-flight reaction.

Ayato holds his reddening cheek, a polite smile on his face that doesn't quite reach his gorgeous purple eyes. Which are burning with something… something that you think is vile.

Is he… is he going to kill me? you think.

“Y-you- I must apologize, Husband! However, I had warned you! Multiple times!” you exclaim.

“Yes… I suppose you did,” he says in an even tone before placing his hands on the ground on either side of your body.

He leans over you and you lean back, putting a bit of strain on your knees since you are sitting with your legs folded beneath you. Your husband tilts his head. You find the discrepancy between the stormy eyes and the polite smile to be terrifying, making you quiver.

Seeing you tremble beneath him, he leans back and sits properly. “My dear wife. Please accept my sincerest apologies. I didn't mean to incur your wrath. I simply…”

Ayato trails off, covering his mouth with the sleeve of his yukata. Unbeknownst to you, he is holding himself back from laughing at how adorable you're angrily pouting at him.

Ah… finally. A reaction~

You, on the other hand, are stewing on the inside. Stupid Kamisato. Is this how the dignified heir to the Kamisato clan is supposed to act? I am the daughter of the Holy Dogs! If it wasn't for my family, I would've rejected your proposal before the elders suggested it! Ugh, you’re so weird! No wonder you barely have any staff around!

After he's collected himself, he gently places his hands on top of yours, folded properly on your lap. You want to so badly slap his hands away, indignant, but you must play the meek and obedient wife the elders said he desired. For the sake of your family.

“Is there any way I can make it up to you?” he asks.

Yeah! Lemme divorce you, you son of a– You put on a polite smile and say, “No, it's alright. You've already apologized.”

The corner of Ayato's mouth twitches slightly, almost unnoticeable. “My dear wife,” he says, ”I assure you that you can share anything with me. Your happiness, your anger, your sadness, even your bitterness. Anything. And please, feel free to call me Ayato.”

You nod. “Alright. Thank you, Husband.”

Husband… It occurs to him at this moment that not once has he ever heard you call him by his name. Being your husband for about at least a month now, he thinks it's about time you both should become a little more intimate, don't you think?

“... On second thought… Do call me Ayato from now on. I forbid you from calling me Husband ever again, unless you are referring to me while speaking to someone else.”

“Eh? Oh alright.”

“(Y/n).”

Your heart skips a beat, hearing your name fall from his lips. “Y-yes, Hu– Yes?”

Oh? What is this? Is something the matter? Ayato begins to get curious.

“(Y/n)~”

“Yes, Hu– Yes?”

Such a cute response from you, but you aren't calling him by his name, for some reason. “If I asked for you to call for me, would you?”

You nod. “Yes. Of course.”

“Alright. Call for me.”

Your eyebrows pinch together in confusion. “I… may I ask why?”

He blinks, his smile widening into what looks like a mischievous grin. “Because I have never heard you call me by my name. Now call for me. Say my name.”

You think it's ridiculous. “Okay, Hu… Ay… to,” you whisper the last syllable.

He leans forward. “Hm? What was that?”

“AY… o… This is ridiculous, Husband. Husband is proper. Calling each other by our personal names directly is improper and…” You meant to add perverse, but at this point your face was burning with embarrassment.

“It's just once~ Come now, (Y/n). Don't tell me you're unable to call me by name now, hm?”

His teasing words jab at your ego. “F-Fine! Ay… Ay… Ayato.”

Ayato chuckles, satisfied with your reaction. For now. He pats you on the head and praises you for doing such a good job.

Between cats and dogs, Ayato Kamisato would no doubt still choose dogs. But nothing can beat the cuteness of his cat-like wife.

He can't wait to see what kind of other reactions only he can make you do…

[fabricated-misslieness]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: raphael (bg3) x archdevil male reader

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: puppy eyes are a very valid/viable form of manipulation

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1,277

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: long exposition for short scenario, devils, pacts, some brief description of violence, underlying manipulation, i love you's

ᴍᴀʏʙ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: in honor of killing raphael for the second time (ily gale) the inspo

☾⋆☆⋆☽

To be an archdevil of the hells, you have to have a certain charm, per say; a devil's tongue, able to make both pacts with lowly, pathetic mortals, and other devils that covet your position, plus everyone in between.

A horrid task is making a pact, really, to ask for a treasure in exchange for something so slight, especially when they could hardly see the imbalance in the transaction.

When the supplicant who wished for power because he was so tired of rolling over for nobles died, you smiled with his soul in your grasp; he had managed to make a name for himself, and now you had a hero in your hall. When the devil sworn to you broke his pact and thus turned his fire immunity into a vulnerability, you enjoyed watching his skin char when he dove into his favorite lava bath.

Perhaps it wasn't so horrid after all, actually. With the many souls that now stomped your halls, you had an infinite supply of jesters. Watching a most old soul fade away into nothingness is always fun, too.

Most archdevils agree that suffering brings them satisfaction, but that is often the most lively thing about them. Zariel, for one, is always focused with her blood war, and Mephistopheles is in love with his vaults, and each only want more souls or artifacts to feed their obsession. Neither one even thinks to branch out! They're all so boring.

Mephistopheles's darling son, though, he's different. Narcissistic as any other devil, perhaps, but to a higher, more interesting degree; and boastingly ambitious, too. Always planning. It's lovely to see him in thought, despite how scarcely he lets himself be seen in the vulnerable process of thought.

And he knows you watch him, has, since the first time you laid eyes on him, but he lets you.

As Mephistopheles's boy, certain things are expected of him, the most daunting of all being that the son will never surpass the father. Cambions can be stronger than their fathers, but for Raphael to beat the ancientness that is the Archdevil Mephistopheles? Hardly perceivable.

Perhaps��no, that is why he is so interesting to you. So ambitious, to want the hells for himself, even when you know he will never be able to surpass the power of his own father.

You love watching him try.

Raphael, however, has always goaded you into helping him. Since you believe he won't win, you know that whatever you do to aid him will bring him nothing except disappointment and you, at best a slap on the wrist from Mephistopheles, at worst death when you visit the Material Plane.

In the beginning days of his plot, your help had always been both miniscule and hard-earned: a heap of souls for a sliver of your power in a pact baring similarity to a warlock's. Though, as time went on, Raphael's keen eye caught onto what made you concede, or the more amusing mortal word, fold, and oh was it foolishly simple.

It was always apparent between the two of you that the entirety of his life, his thousands, is only a shadow to your ten thousands. Its what made him so pathetically small in your eyes. He was still young, to you.

Oh, and his human form! It was so little and so mortal.

"A living mortal in my hall in the hells? Oh, it is only you, my dearest!" The cage of brown-red bone that protected your ever-ardent veins still protruded from beneath your flesh in the form of spikes, through your bumpy, fire-scarred flesh; but you were careful in kneeling before your favored, human form of Raphael.

You were still taller than him, kneeling, and Raphael looked most exquisite looking up at you. The cambion didn't need to dress up his words with a mouth-watering glaze. He already had you in his grasp. "My love, I've come to ask something of you."

"Again?" You click your tongue, shaking your head and nearly hitting him with your thick, wild horns. "You must learn to be independent one of these days."

"Oh," When he's rid of the interjection of exasperation, his bottom lip draws over his top lip; a pout. "I know, my dearest, but you must understand!"

"What must I understand?" You leave your hands in fists over your hips, leaning back straighter to look at him with the most stern expression your monstrous face muscles can offer.

Even with your knowledge of him being, well, a devil, you are still so careful to touch him, especially so in your ascended fiend form. Raphael steps closer, between your kneeling legs, placing his hands over your fists. "I really do need your help this time. I cannot do this without you."

You huff, your fists breaking to hold his hands properly. "Tell me, my love, what do you need of me?"

"My father has a new relic in his collection. Oh, it is so precious!" He emphasizes his point with the bounce of his heels, "Extremely powerful, as I'm sure you've heard, my darling; the mortals have lost their magic recently, yes? The foolish mortal Karsus and his foolish ambitions, but his crown is very much real, and very much powerful, especially for a human."

"So I've heard, sweetheart. What are you saying?" If you had any eyebrows, they would've furrowed.

"I need it. I need it, for myself, it'll be the most splendid gift!"

Your head draws back, and for a moment, your skin burns hotter, in such a way that even he can feel its temperature raise, that it must be so potent and high a change that a flame-retardant lover can feel it. Had this been the first time Raphael has asked for something of such great power from you, he'd have thought his plan was over.

"Mephistopheles would kill me, Raphael, shove me in a portal to the Material Plane, or the Ethereal Plane, or even the Godly Plane just to see me die the most gruesome death." You do not exaggerate, he has seen it first hand more than a handful of times.

"Oh, but my love, my dearest..." Raphael doesn't follow up his most adorable pet names, like one normally would. He doesn't plead his case, doesn't beg for it. Instead, he widens his eyes, and he stares, and there's just something about the way the glare of the candelabra glints in his eye that—

Oh...

Gods, he's just adorable, isn't he? So much better than a hellhound begging for a scrap of your meal, its head on your thigh, because this is your dearest Raphael.

Devils have delicious red eyes, but Raphael's human form has this just sweet pair of brown eyes, what is it, chocolate? They're gorgeous.

And his head can barely crane up high enough to look you in the eye, even when you're kneeling for him.

You huff, look away from him, but it's already too late. For the love of Tyr, Mystra, Ilmater, and the gods you'll never praise, why must he look so exquisite? With a deep sigh, you turn back to him, forgetting his delicateness as you place your wide palm over his tempting face. "Fine. Fine, my love, I will ask."

Raphael kisses your palm, lifting it off his face, and he smiles so nicely as he continues to pepper kisses along your burning knuckles. "Thank you," He says, spewing word upon word of his gratitude, "thank you, my love, I love you so much."

"Yeah, I know." You sigh once more, but you fold, leaning your head down to encase his head between your horns. "I love you too, my dear."

[gingersnaptaff]

Are there any characters from Welsh mythology that didn't get into popular Arthuriana, but you think would fit in really well there?

Okay, so this is a bit tricky because the whole of the Mabinogion can be interpreted as being just another facet of Arthuriana in a way. After all, a) Pryderi and Manawydan are two of King Arthur's attendants in Culhwch ac Olwen which, therefore, means that they must be there after their adventure in Branches 1, 2, 3 (thankfully not 4 in Pryderi's case) have already concluded. Bendigeidfran - Manawydan's brother and giant lad - has his head dug up by Arthur and so that also has to happen after branch 2 cuz that's what allows the Saxons to eventually gain a foothold in Britain after Arthur's death. Also, Gilfaethwy - Gwydion's bro, the main cause of chaos in branch 4 - is the inspo for Griflet.

HOWEVER, Because of that you can neatly slot them into wherever works best for u.

Who you can't slot in best - because where are u gonna put her? - is Blodeuwedd. She's not somebody who I'd consider as able to slot in because she's an owl. Her entire thing is tied to the Branch Four escapades. However, I WOULD LOVE TO SEE HER THERE. @wildbasil has some real great art where she in owl form hangs out with gwyn ap nudd and his brother edern and that works superbly well.

I also think that the entirety of what occurs with Cantre'r Gwaelod would be fascinating to explore through an Arthurian lens. Think about it. A whole kingdom - a whole island! - gets swallowed in the sea! And you can still hear the warning bells ringing out across the sea. You could tie them back to the fall of Camelot, to the failure to keep things in check, to people gradually getting complacent and perhaps a little corrupt. It would be SO FUN. And also you could perhaps have it be God's vengeance too.

Plus Lludd and Llefelys. It's BANGING. It could be another quest for the knights to undertake. You have three magical 'quests' that Lludd has to undertake (which are pretty easy to overcome but the possibilities? Endless.) There's a race of magical creatures called the Coraniaid, a demonic race of people who can hear EVERYTHING (which is also the same power Gwydion's uncle, Math, has who is another dude I think would be BRILLIANT in an Arthurian story!), a mysterious screaming that causes every woman to miscarry which is eventually found to be a red dragon (Y Draig Goch my beloved) and a white dragon (those peaky Saxons) fighting, and last but not least a wizard who he has to defeat by dunking himself in a bucket of water so doesn't fall asleep. (It makes sense in context, I promise.) Lludd - king of Londonium - undertakes the quests while his older brother, Llefelys, King of Gaul gives him invaluable advice. I have always thought that it should be made into a story because you could connect it to Merlin (the dragons are buried I'm Dinas Emrys which is literally 'Emrys'/Merlin's Hillfort' because he uncovers them and lets them FIGHT!!!! (Red dragon wins if ur wondering.)

(Also, you could slot Tŵm Sion Cati in there if u wanted. He's very much a Robin Hood archetype - and also his stories are set centuries after the Arthurian mythos (16th century during the time of Mary I /Bloody Mary) - but I mean that should not stop u.

(Doesn't stop me trying to combine all this shit together.)

Anyways!!! This ran away from me so I heartily apologise! Also, somebody will tell me, 'Sarah, you utter tit, somebody has already done these things' so I am prepped for that being the case.

[magicalgirlsandcerulean]

Love Macho "Visual Novel"

Thanks again to restinpeacesensei for notifying me of this.

Note some of the pictures have text which adds to the experience, while others duplicate text from the tweets they're from - you could probably still read the former using a screen translator and read tweets with the autotranslation, but there was a bit of a misunderstanding going around about one of the routes which warranted a proper translation.

The bold sections indicate main decision points (the start, the Defence Club and the student council).

Feedback is welcome.

(Even if you did play this thing through at least once, it's fun to see where all the branches go.)

Play along by starting here...

Start: Setting aside the particulars [of how you managed to do so], somehow you transfer to Binan High School and you have #Your Encounter with that person...

----

The people who challenge this and share their results... ---- ...will go into a lottery to win a present of a 10000 yen Amazon gift card! Repost this tweet to increase your chances! ▼Tap the picture to begin!▼

(Picture: Tap to start!)

(Tap here.) You start your new life from today! On the way to school, you pass by... A: The Earth Defence Club

B: The student council

-> A: Earth Defence Club: For some reason, these people are noisy, huh?

A: Pass by them

B: Try calling out to them

C: Head towards the Kurotamayu

-> ->A: Pass by them: "Eh, your bag..."

A: "By any chance, is that made of pure gold?"

B: "Is that the thing that's viral on social media right now?"

-> -> -> A: "By any chance, is that made of pure gold?"

Surprisingly, you have an expert eye. That is exactly the case.

"I...have a feeling I'll get along with you."

He offers his hand for a handshake. He's looking at his bag and smiling...

(Cont. on picture)

"T-That-!"

Somehow, on his bag is a strap of a gold nugget!

”Of course, as a way of guaranteeing [it doesn't get lost], I carry it close to me."

"Yeah, gold's asset value doesn't fluctuate much, so be careful..."

You two talk finance to your heart's content.

This would be my destined meeting with him...(Io end.)

-> -> -> B: "Is that the thing that's viral on social media right now?"

Yes, surprisingly, you're a trend junkie and bought this bag, which you recently saw on social media.

"That's excellent! The cherry pattern on it is cute!"

(Cont. on picture)

"Actually, I bought it as well...Is that made of pure gold?" [4]

Yes, it seems to be of considerably good value. You worked hard at a part-time job, saved up and made a down payment to obtain it...

"I also worked hard to save!"

Then...

"Let's go cut loose, shall we?"

"Yes! Let's!"

This would be my destined meeting with him...(Ryuu end.)

-> -> B: Try calling out to them: "Excu~se me..."

A: "Does Binan High have a chikuwabu club?"

B: "Where's a good place to eat an after-school meal?"

-> -> -> A: "Does Binan High have a chikuwabu club?"

Of course, this place doesn't have a chikuwabu club...Your shoulders slump.

"How about asking the student council?"

(Cont. on picture)

"My previous school didn't have a chikuwabu club either..."

"Did it?"

You wanted to make a chikuwabu club, so you vented your feelings to him.

"...I can feel your passion. However, you can't make a club with less than 5 members."

...is it possible to gather 5 people with the philosophy of chikuwabu...?

"Well, do your best."

"...! Thank you!"

This would be my destined meeting with him...(En end.)

-> -> -> B: "Where's a good place to eat an after-school meal?"

"I know a delicious curry place."

The black-haired boy pushed up his glasses as he responded.

Hearing "curry", your eyes light up. Actually, curry is your favourite food, so much you carry it around in a thermos.

(Cont. on picture)

"Will you tell me where that place is?"

You want to know this at any cost, so you give in.

"That's fine. If it's fine with you, would you like to go together?"

Without hesitation, you nod.

"Yes please!"

"Well, how about next Wednesday [1]?"

You coordinate your schedules.

This would be my destined meeting with him...(Atsushi end.)

-> -> C: Head towards the Kurotamayu: Are you taking a bath now?

A: "Huh, is that a Binan High uniform?"

B: No one's around. You hear the sound of wood being chopped...

-> -> -> A: "Huh, is that a Binan High uniform?"

A petite boy appeared in the middle of the bathhouse.

"My family's bathhouse is the best! After all, it uses fresh hot spring water, untreated from the source! How about taking a bath before going to school?"

(Cont. on picture)

"...this bathhouse has the same name as me, so I went inside."

...well, to tell the truth, your name is Kurota Mayu [2]. It's read the same way [as the Kurotamayu].

"Heh------! Is that so? Somehow, I get the feeling you're extraordinarily lucky!"

This would be my destined meeting with him...(Yumoto end.)

-> -> -> B: No one's around. You hear the sound of wood being chopped...

You called out, but no one came...

*chop* *chop*

"??"

There is the sound of wood being chopped.

You try going out the back where the sound is coming from...where a brawny man is wholeheartedly chopping wood.

"Um...excuse me."

(Cont. on picture)

You timidly call out and the man notices you.

"Ah, a customer? Sorry about that."

He's kinda strong...

"This is a discount coupon. That's 'cos, from the looks of things, you look like you're also a Binan High student."

"? When you said 'also', you mean..."

"My little brother also goes to Binan High..."

A refreshing, quiet wind blows between the two of you.

This would be my destined meeting with him...(Goura end.)

-> B: The student council: Wah, these guys have something of an aura...

A: Comparing them to someone like me, I'm...

B: I have an official Business Skill Test in Bookkeeping, 2nd Grade [3]!

-> -> A: Comparing them to someone like me, I'm...: They, who gallantly appeared before you, saw you and unreasonably deepened your worries.

Then, you start to tell them, "It's the entire world's fault this happened...I'm not evil..."

(Cont. on picture)

"Donum!"

You can hear a voice from somewhere.

"Ugh!"

You feel something stabbing you in the neck...

In that moment, power wells up inside you.

"If I have this kind of power...!"

You head towards Binan High, acting upon an impulse of destruction...(Student council bad end.)

-> -> B: I have an official Business Skill Test in Bookkeeping, 2nd Grade [3]!: Perhaps, they are a group of talented person like you...? Having judged that to be the case, you suddenly appeal to them. "Heh?...We were looking for someone to manage the finances. Are you a transfer student?"

(Cont. on picture)

"I transferred here today. I'm Kurota Mayu [2]."

"To have a bookkeeping qualification at that age is promising," the silver-haired person said, while the other two nodded in agreement.

"As Akoya said, would you like to manage our finances?"

"Yes! I'll make good use of my qualifications and show you I can be helpful!"

Thus, it was decided you entered the student council!

This would be my destined meeting with them...(Student council good end.)

[Note 1: Might be reading into this too much, but Boueibu's season 1 aired late on Tuesday nights, i.e. Wednesdays.]

[Note 2: Japanese name order.]

[Note 3: 2nd grade is the highest possible grade you can get in this test. To get one, you'd need to score 70% - 100% and the pass rate is 20%.]

[Note 4: Originally, my brain rationalised this as the gold nugget keychain being on the bag, but...you can have bags with handles, clasps etc. made out of an alloy containing 24k gold and that can still count as "pure gold".]

Update: Added note 4. Thanks, restinpeacesensei.