#the little ones are just taken straight for the comic

[mispelled]

I can't believe so many of you skipped the best panel in all of homestuck in between page 4721 and page 4722

[victorluvsalice]

Happy Valicertine’s Day! :D Yes, as you might have expected, this year (the tenth of me doing Valicetines! Time freaking flies) the annual Valicetines have become Valicertines in celebration of my beloved weird-ass OT3 and their shenanigans in my Sims game. :) Look, if you don’t know by this point I am into my ship of “awkward Victorian-era Tim Burton stop-motion puppet/dark action-adventure video game protagonist take on Alice in Wonderland/a mind-controlling roller coaster I gave a human form in Sims,” I don’t know what to tell you. XD Anyway, hope you find these three little Valicertines amusing. I sure did. :) Text below!

1. (Victor, Alice, and Smiler all dancing together in the Gnome’s Arms Pub, Victor sporting a flirty smile and a little yellow light bulb behind his head) Seeing you two together gives me. . .ideas. ;) Happy Valicertine’s Day!

2. (Smiler, Alice, and Victor all reading books in a line on the couch in the Moonwood Mill library) Sometimes love. . .looks like a study group. Happy Valicertine’s Day! (three hearts in yellow, blue, and red)

3. (Alice laughing at one of Victor’s jokes and Smiler looking at him with a grin while they’re seated around a table at the Humor & Hijinks Festival, with three hearts in red, yellow, and blue around Smiler’s head) True love involves a lot of things. . . But it should always involve a good laugh. Happy Valicertine’s Day!

[rainrot4me]

Forgive, But Don’t Forget Me

Summary: Katsuki takes you home from a UA class reunion party where you had one too many drinks. You get a little handsy, and Katsuki has to figure out how to deal with you and his emotions.

Characters: Pro Katsuki Bakugo x Pro Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Drunk fucking, inappropriate touching, repressed emotions, eating out, fingering, vaginal, fucking your ex, reconciliation, scratching, sappy, dry humping, clothed fucking

Words: 3.6k

A/N: This story is HEAVILY inspired by @/duskumes' comic on twitter! Go check it out!

Katsuki’s patience had run out hours ago. 

He knew it wasn’t his fault that you drank no less than twelve shots of straight vodka, but in the end, he was the one wrapping your arm around his shoulders as he walked you to his car. You were a babbling mess, barely able to thank him as he buckled you into the passenger seat, leaning over your body to lock the buckle in. 

It was no secret the two of you had dated back at UA, but that was years ago. But somehow, everyone at the UA class reunion party thought he was the most fit to take care of you. Your flirty little hands grabbed at him all through the party, making snarky little comments about his muscles and dick size until he couldn’t take it anymore and shuffled you out the door. He was quick on the goodbyes to his friends, too preoccupied with swatting your hand away from groping him. As Katsuki slid into the driver's seat of his sports car, you leaned on the console, fluttering your pretty eyes at him. “So, do I get to suck your dick now?” Katsuki’s eyes shot wide, taken aback by your brass statement, alcohol swaying your words to an uncomfortable point. “No,” He huffed, bucking his own seatbelt and starting the car. “Hands to yourself.” You huffed, crossing your arms dramatically as you pouted your lips. Katsuki rolled his eyes, shifting into drive as he quickly pulled out of the parking lot and onto the freeway. His radio mumbled some rap music, keeping the music low so as not to overstimulate your already dizzy head and leading to you puking all over his car. 

“It’s soooo hot.” You groaned, leaning into the seat. Katsuki glanced at you, rolling his eyes as he flipped the A/C up, letting the cold air blast onto you. You huffed, spreading your legs wide and causing your short dress to ride up your thighs, your panties peeking out just enough for Katsuki to quickly avert his gaze, gritting his teeth and gripping the steering wheel tighter. This was incredibly frustrating. You watched as the bright street lights zoomed past the window, the freeway mostly empty as it was so late into the night. Your eyes sparkled, looking over to Katsuki and grinning smugly. “Y’know, I’m real good at road head.” You giggled, sliding your hand over to rub his thigh only for it to be smacked away. “I’m well aware.” He grunted, leaning his elbow against the door and his head into his hand. The truth is he was more than aware. He remembered your days sneaking into each other’s dorm rooms like it was yesterday, recalling every time you sunk to your knees any time he asked. He groaned, rubbing his temple as he sped up.

“That party was soo boring, wasn’t it Kat?” You smiled, leaning onto the console and resting your head in your hand. Katsuki turned to look at you, his eyes rolling as he huffed a laugh. “Sure was, until you outdrank everyone there.” You giggled, laying your head on the console. “Not true… Pretty sure Mina had one more than me.” Katsuki adjusted his position, awkwardly laying his hand on your back as you lay on the console. “Difference is she can hold her alcohol.” He chuckled, turning his blinker on and pulling off to a side road leading to your apartment. You giggled. “I can hold your dick.” You ran your hand to his crotch, palming his slacks before he grabbed your wrist tightly and threw it back to your side. “God. I’ve never met anyone who gets this horny drunk.” You sat up, leaning into your seat. “Just horny for you and your big cock.” Katsuki stared at you, knotting his brows before turning back to the road. “Shut it.”

He pulled down your drive, the condos and high-rise apartments of the city shining brightly from the street. Katsuki pulled into the parking garage adjacent to your building, sliding into a spot and shutting the car off. You fiddled with your seatbelt, Katsuki leaning over and clicking the button. He jolted back, your hands pressing onto his chest as you quickly invaded his personal space and pressed your face way too close to his. “Nobody here but us… Let me suck you off…” You hummed, running your hand down his stomach but getting cut off as he gripped your wrist tightly. “You’re drunk. Hell no.” He scoffed, pushing you back into your seat as he unbuckled himself and popped out of the car. Circling to your side, he hauled you out, wrapping his arm around your waist as you nuzzled close to his muscled torso, rubbing your hands over his stomach and feeling his abs through the button-up shirt. Katsuki tried his best to ignore you. Hauled into the elevator, he pressed your floor number, a little shocked he still remembered which one.

Your head rested on his chest, your whole body weight being held up by his arms. It had been so long since he held you like this since he had done anything with you. It was so nice, his cologne filling your nose and making the hairs on the back of your neck stand. Your mind was dizzy, thoughts unorganized as all you could focus on was the man holding you, your former lover in your arms again. Katsuki enjoyed the quiet as you rode up the floors, gripping your side tightly to make sure your knees didn’t buckle under you. Seeing you like this was hard. Seeing you at all was hard. This was the first time Katsuki had even spoken to you in months, your relationship dying shortly after you both graduated from UA to ‘focus on hero work.’ The work kept you both preoccupied, sure, but seeing you after all this time felt like he had never left in the first place. You were still you.

As the elevator dinged, the doors slid open and Katsuki hoisted you out into the carpeted hallway. He found your room, typing in the little access code he forgot he even knew and shuffling inside. It smelled like how he remembered it. Citrus and vanilla, your scent. He tossed his keys on the kitchen counter, kneeling to help you slide your heels off. You pressed your hands on his shoulders, stabilizing yourself as he worked on the overlapping straps. “You look so good down there…” You giggled, running your hand through his spiked hair. He groaned, standing to take his shoes off before leading you to your bedroom. 

He pushed open the door, flipping the lights on as he helped you onto your bed. “Get changed. I’m going to grab you some medicine.” He commanded, sliding his suit jacket off and tossing it on the accent chair decorating the space. You smirked, pulling at the bottom of your dress and slowly slipping it off. Katsuki’s face blew red quickly, spinning on his heels and stepping out of the room quickly. “Oh come on Kat! Don’t wanna help me undress?” You called down the hall, teasing him. Rolling his eyes, he stepped into your bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet, shuffling through the random painkillers and allergy meds until he found a bottle of morning-after pills and shook a few into his hand. He shuffled to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. As he turned, he finally saw just how messy your space was. 

To-go bags littered the living room, unclean dishes were piled in the sink, and random clothes were half-folded on your couch. Katsuki cringed, wondering how a person as organized and upkeep as yourself managed to not only get yourself wasted but let your apartment run to crap too. He stepped back into your room, relieved to see you were in an oversized shirt and not completely naked. You lay on your bed, eyes half closed as Katsuki sat next to you. “Take these. It’s to help your nausea.” He instructed, opening the water bottle for you and handing it to you as you swallowed the pills. You smiled at him, your goofy grin making him chuckle. He patted you on the knee, going to stand and leave before you gripped his arm. “What? All that and you still won’t fuck me?” You slurred, rising to your knees and wrapping your arms around his. Shaking you off, he stood at the end of your bed, watching as you pouted your lips dramatically. “You’re drunk. Goodnight [Y/N].” As he turned, you jumped down from the bed, barely connecting your steps as you grabbed onto his shirt, pulling him to stop. 

Laying your forehead in the center of his back, you breathed in that smell one more time, the flush on your cheeks burning wonderfully. “I haven’t fucked anyone since you.” You mumbled all too fast, Katsuki glancing behind him to confirm if he heard you correctly. He gripped your arm, pulling you in front of him to face your beat-red face as you stared at him. “Nobody.” You urged, standing as still as you could as Katsuki’s hands gripped either arm tightly. You shook out of his grasp, stepping back to sit at the end of your bed before your dizziness became too much. “Kinda ruined all other dicks for me anyways,” you laughed awkwardly. 

Katsuki stood silent, staring at your face as he puzzled his words together carefully. He ran his hand through his hair, sighing as he felt defeated by your pitiful face. “It’s not like I’ve had time for anyone else either.” He groaned, staring at the floor. 

The air turned awkward. Both of you stared anywhere but at each other as you could feel your buzz slowly fading, a headache replacing it. “I’ve only ever been with you, Kat.” You admitted quietly, looking him directly in his fiery eyes as you fiddled with your fingers. “No one else really does it for me like you.”

Katsuki sighed, shuffling over to sit down next to you, silently cursing to himself. Truth was, Katsuki only ever thought about you after the breakup. It wasn’t like he wanted to end things, but he felt he needed to prioritize his career before all else after school. He looked for other partners, going on a date here or there, but no one ever matched the energy you brought him. Even years later, no one still did. “It’s never been anyone but you.” He sighed, glancing at you as your eyes sparkled so beautifully. Slinking your hand to his thigh, you gripped reassuringly. This time he didn’t push you away. You dared, leaning forward, just inches away from his face. 

“[Y/N].” He breathed, staring at your lips. 

“Katuski.” You returned, staring into his eyes.

He closed the space first, quickly wrapping his hand behind your head and pressing your lips together. It made you moan the way his lips danced so perfectly with yours, every tug and tightening grip rushing your memories back to you. Oh, how you missed this. You swung your leg over his lap, straddling him as you tangled your hands in his hair. But his hands were quick to pull you closer to him, cupping under your ass and pulling you flush against him. His moans were lethal, small grunts and gasps while he squeezed your legs and devoured you with his lips. You could feel his bulge grow under you, smirking into the kiss as you subtly pushed your hips down harder, a long groan falling from his lips. It didn’t take much before his hands were gripping your hips, forcefully grinding your cunt against his erection. Grunts and sighs mixed between both of you as Katsuki slipped his tongue into your mouth. The friction was heavenly, your panties and his slacks the only separation from him pressing into you, which he very badly wished to do.

Before you knew it he flipped you over, towering over you as he pressed your legs back, marveling at the wet spot that tinted your panties. He flicked his thumb over the area, your thighs clenching when he brushed your clit. Unbuttoning his shirt, he peeled it off his torso, his thick arm muscles leaving you a red mess under him. Chuckling, he sunk back over you, latching his lips to your neck as he unzipped his slacks and shoved them down his muscular legs and to the floor. His dark boxers did a horrible job at hiding his large erection, the bulge finding its way to your clothed cunt and grinding up onto you. You choked out a gasp, Katsuki’s hips rhythmically thrusting against yours as he ground against you, practically fucking you. It sent you spiraling, your clit throbbing under the pressure while he nibbled on your ear, grunting ever so slightly. It was so erotic. “Kat… fuck-” You gasped, his pace increasing as he cupped his hands under your knees and pressed them back, giving him a better angle to rut against your clit.

You were going to cum and he hadn’t even taken off your panties yet. You felt the knot tighten, eyes rolling as Katsuki’s bulge pressed down on you and abused your swollen clit. He nudged his head into the crook of your neck, moaning through gritted teeth. You whined loudly, pleasure crashing through you as you released into your panties, Katsuki’s thrusts slowing to grind deeper and harder and ride you through your orgasm. You hadn’t come on someone else’s touch in so long, but as you caught your breath, you knew you couldn’t stop at just one. 

Katsuki peppered kisses onto your cheeks and whispered about how good you did, holding his hips still but flush against your cunt as the damp spot slowly grew. Kissing his lips, you smiled, wiping his bangs away from his sweat-glistened face. “Can I suck your dick now?” You asked, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing his jawline. It was so barely noticeable, but the gasp that left his lips made your body shoot to life. Katsuki leaned back, slinking his rough hands up your thighs and fiddling with the lacey hem of your panties, his cock very obviously twitching impatiently in his boxers. He finally locked eyes with you, your red cheeks and puffy lips sending a shiver up his spine. “Only if you let me eat you out.”

Goosebumps rose on your skin as you sat up, letting Katsuki slip under your hips and lay face-to-face with your clothed cunt. It was beyond embarrassing, it was plain filthy. Deciding not to psyche yourself out about it, you leaned forward, slipping your fingers under the band of his boxers and sliding them down, gasping when his large erection sprung up in front of your face. Katsuki gasped behind you, hands gripping your hips tightly as he moved your panties to the side. It was a sight he missed way too much, brows knitting as he strained his neck to lick a stripe up your folds. Heavenly was the only word for it, little mewls and gasps echoing each other’s lips as you licked a stripe up the length of his cock. You couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol still messing with your brain, but every swipe of Katsuki’s sinful tongue on your clit made your entire body electrify. However, Katsuki grew impatient of straining his neck to reach your delicious cunt and gripped your hips tightly, slamming them down against his face as he slinked his tongue into your entrance. 

Your back arched, hips grinding to meet the pace of his tongue curling into you. You hadn’t realized you were leaving Katsuki’s cock unattended till it was twitching in your hand, begging to be touched. You pressed the head into your mouth, bobbing shallowly as you moaned on his tip, way too preoccupied with his tongue inside of you. It was like he was hypnotizing you, every arch of his tongue making your back arch the same. You squeezed your eyes shut, taking more and more of his length into your mouth until you were choking. You bobbed your head, sucking what you could and jerking off what you couldn’t. You missed the feeling of Katsuki in your mouth, relishing the sweet taste of his precum as it rubbed against your tongue. He was grunting into your cunt, nails digging into your hips as he forcefully ground your hips against his tongue. 

The tell-tale signs Katsuki was about to come were showing themselves, the high-pitched grunts and the bucking hips speeding up his tip at the edge. You could feel his hands tightening, his moans growing louder as he refused to let off of your cunt, choosing to suffocate rather than miss out on one second of your sweet taste. You accommodated, pressing your hips down and bobbing deeper on his length until you choked, and even then holding there a little longer. Katuski whined, bucking his hips up one final time before he spilt into your mouth, the warm seed shooting down your throat and coating your tongue with a sweet taste. He was a moaning mess against your cunt, only letting off to breathe when you forced your hips up. 

“Get over here, fuck-” He growled, gripping your hips and flipping you onto your back before he climbed on top of you. His face was flushed, sweat glistening as his bangs stuck to his forehead. You thought he looked cute, but your sweet thoughts were interrupted as Katsuki lined his cock up with your entrance, rubbing the head against your clit before ever so slowly sinking the tip in. He was careful to gauge your reactions, stopping when you hissed and pushing when you moaned. He was precise about it all, gritting his teeth as your warmth squeezed him perfectly. “This pussy belongs to me, got it?” He growled as he bottomed out, your groans music to his ears. “Got it?” He urged again, gripping your jaw tightly as he began to slowly thrust into you, your walls constricting him so perfectly. You nodded quickly, arms wrapping around his neck as he drove into you, pace quickening. He released your jaw, gripping the sheets under you to stabilize himself so he could snap his hips to meet yours. 

Moans and gasps echoed, each thrust sending you jerking against the bed before you were sinking back onto his cock. “You take me so good… Don’t know how I ever left this pussy…” He groaned, gritting his teeth as he stared into your heavy eyes. He scooped his hands under your knees, pressing them back roughly as he plowed into you. The angle left you gasping, his cock reaching impossibly deep as connected your lips to his, muffling your loud moans. 

The bed creaked loudly, the headboard softly knocking the wall as it matched Katsuki’s thrusts, each slap of your skin echoing loudly. “Kat- Ahh..” You moaned, arching your back and whining at the angle, each thrust sending Katsuki’s cock ramming against your g-spot. It didn’t take long before you were wrapping your arms around his back and clawing deeply, each rapid-fire thrust making your nails sink. Katsuki was relishing in it, the sweet pain mixing with the tight heat around his cock. God, how he missed you. He didn’t know who he had to thank for bringing you back to him, but thank you.

He pressed your knees back further, leaning in to wrap his lips with yours as he felt his release building. Your pleasure rising as well. With a few final thrusts, you were cumming around his cock, your walls squeezing incredibly tight as you moaned into his mouth. Katsuki could barely thrust into you anymore, his hips bucking roughly as he groaned against your tightness. That was all it took before he pulled out of you quickly, thrusting into his hand and releasing all over your stomach. He moaned, slack-jawed as he caught his breath. 

Your lips were still pressing kisses to his cheek as your fucked out expression met his. He grinned at you, his cheeks flushed and eyes heavy as he slowly lifted off of you. He lifted off the bed, shuffling to the bathroom and grabbing a towel before coming back to clean you off gently. You smiled at him, blushing as you watched him so carefully take care of you. You missed this. You missed him.

He leaned over, flicking the lamp off and pulling the sheets of your bed down, lifting your body with ease to place you on the pillow. Nervousness pinged you as you feared he’d leave the bed and tell you goodbye. But as he pulled your body flush against his and pulled the covers over both of you, you sighed with relief. 

You faced each other, bodies flush as you gazed into the other’s eyes. Katsuki kissed your forehead, brushing your hair behind your ear as he wrapped his arms around your body. “Forgive me.” He whispered, peppering more kisses onto your face. “For?” You whispered back, brushing your fingers up and down his chest. He sighed, tucking your head under his chin and holding you as close as he could. “For ever taking you for granted.”

You kissed his neck before nuzzling into him, breathing in his scent deeply as you could feel yourself drifting. “Apology accepted.” You mumbled against his skin, eyes fluttering shut. Katsuki smiled, kissing your head before shutting his own eyes, relishing in your embrace for the first time in a long time.

He promised to never let you go again.

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

[sun-snatcher]

If you're writing for dp3 then Hiraeth from your prompt list would work SO well since they're all stuck in the void! 🤲🏽😭 We need Gambit fics its a DROUGHT HELP

♧ ⎯ LUCK O’ THE DRAW !

summ. You find the Devil himself at the end of the world. Surprisingly, it isn’t the first time you have. It is, however, the first time it hurts. pairing. Void!Gambit x f!Anomaly!reader (established relationship. Kinda. Multiverse be funky like 'dat.) w.count. 1.8k a/n. Because Channing deserved that Gambit all those years ago, and I've come to (attempt to) deliver what the the people have asked. Masterlist here.

MOST PEOPLE MEET THE DEVIL at a crossroads, but you meet yours in— quite literally— the back end of fuckin’ nowhere.

It hurt more than it should.

Your heart practically stutters. 

“Remy.”  

Then he turns, and you wait for the flash of recognition in his eyes.

Nothing comes.

And then. And then.

Realisation— logic. The cold, hard truth: This isn’t your Remy LeBeau. Your Remy had died long before, in a Universe that was pruned and erased into nothingness by the TVA. Your Universe. The joke? That the Gambit before you is merely a variant amongst a million. The punchline? He looks exactly the same as the day you’d lost your own. 

“Well, this is awkward. You know off-shoot Hawkeye here?” Wade says, astonished, before his eyes widened. “Ah. Tragic exposition time for the readers, I see.”

Your mind is still reeling. It feels like someone’s just jammed a chisel straight into your gut. “I— Knew a version. Variant, I guess,” you manage to correct yourself, distracted by the skirting trenchcoat and the all too familiar sound of shuffling cards. 

Christ, it’s like he’d stepped right out of your memories.

Remy’s eyebrows shoot up as he studies you. Something in your chest pulls taut, threatening to snap as he speaks. “Apologies, mon ami. But as far as I remember, I ain’t never seen you before.”

“Ouch,” Wade winces, looking between you both. “What a classic trope! This is like, me talking to my past Mom in The Adam Project. Funnily enough, my Mom was you!” He snorts, pointing to Elektra. 

You ignore Wade and offer Remy a wan smile. “I figured. It’s okay.”

…It is obviously, in fact, not okay. 

You avoid him like a plague shortly after the entire commotion; it’s almost comical. Wade had managed to come up with a plan with the rest of the group, albeit a ramshackle, flimsy one, but you’ve hardly been able to pay attention through the bloodrush of shock rocketing in your head, anyway. 

Being around this Remy is stunningly stifling. 

The lilt of his accent, the sharpness in his smile; the flourishing of cards and the faint hum-drum of kinetic charge against his fingertips. 

You’ve seen it all before, once upon a time. You never thought any of it could ever bring you to this bad of a heel. 

It hadn’t taken long before you’d tried drowning yourself at the end of a bottle of brandy Logan had handed you that night. (The whiskey tames his mordance and makes him uncharacteristically civil. He’d said something along the lines of: Y’need this more than I do, bub; look like you’ve just seen a fuckin’ ghost. Shit, I guess you did, huh? )

“Mais la,” comes a huff. “Ain’t that mine?”

A frisson runs through your heart. 

“Sorry,” you say, barely glancing up from the barrel fire tucked outside the team’s hideout. You’re not quite sure you can handle meeting his gaze. “I know I should’ve asked.”

A playful hum. Remy settles on the log adjacent to yours. “S’alright. No harm done, chèr.”

It takes everything in you not to flinch at the endearment. If he’d noticed, well— he’s smart enough not to mention it. He’s curious and it stands to reason; afterall, he’s never quite seen someone look at him as weathered as the way you do. It’s as if the effort itself to do so would be unbearable.

“Y’kno’, I been told I’m easy on the eyes. Not for you, tho’, eh?” Remy shoots you an amicable smile. It’s charming, if a little compelling. “Guessin’ I made bad on you where y’from? You done been boudéin’ since y’first got here.” 

You let out a laugh. It’s the most brittle sound he’s ever heard come from someone. 

“No, no,” you shake your head. “It’s… You just make me a lil’ homesick, is all.”

Remy bristles with his deck of cards. A Charlier cut; a One-handed shuffle. It’s a mindless tic; your variant used to do the exact same with the exact same ease.

(Such a miracle, you remember thinking once, that there could be symmetries in the Multiverse. Now you learn, perhaps, it’s far more a curse. Either way, you can hear Remy’s doting voice in a distant memory, dimpling coyly at you: “S’just the luck o’ your draw, chèr.” )

You tamp down the memory before it could sink its jowls any deeper in you. 

“You’re curious,” you say.

He makes a noise of assent. Revolution cut; One-handed shuffle. Repeat.

“I ain’t gon’ axe if y’ain’t wanna answer.” 

It’s kind of him. 

You forgot he was like this.

Witty, yet gentlemanly. The way Remy always has been.

Underneath the blanket of the night, the crackle of the flames limn the planes of his face in flickering, hazy saffron. The look in his eyes is sincere as they meet your red-rimmed gaze. It’s been awhile since you’ve seen him, and in this light no less: tall, cutting, strong.

Lively.

The last you’d seen Remy, he’d been drawn out and battered by the war. Not that he’d ever admit it; he always insisted on keeping up his sunny disposition despite the constant losing battles happening. (Sometimes you think you resent him for doing that; it’d felt like he’d taken the light of the world with him when—)

You thank your lucky stars the variant Remy doesn’t make a comment on how you must be staring so openly. It’s a feeble attempt to committing every detail to memory, you suppose, in case you don’t get the chance again.

“In my Universe, a war was waging against mutants.” Your nails tinker against the empty bottleneck of the flat whiskey you’d nursed, thinking of how to cut a bloodshed of a story short; to get your point across before you falter and lose your footing.

“There was a mission sanctioned, and during it— a decision had to be made at that moment. So… you chose. Easily.” Your brows pinch tight against your will. The molten burn returns to the back of your eyes. “You saved so many lives the day you died.” 

Something catches in your throat when you realise your mistake, find yourself amending instantly, “He. He died.”

(It had been swift. A small mercy, all things considered. There wasn’t even a need to check for a pulse when you finally managed to reach for him.)

You’re fidgeting, too, with something in your other hand. Remy catches sight of it only now: a card, sitting pinched between your ringed fingers. Nine of Hearts. Its edges are torn and creased across the face, singed an ashen black. 

A proverbial piece of Remy’s heart, carried to the end with you.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a cold rush over his body at the sight. 

“…I’m sorry, chèr,” he offers quietly, inadequate as it is. He hadn’t expected that. 

He can’t imagine how haunting it must be to look at someone you’d shared a lifetime with and be met with a complete stranger instead. 

A living, breathing, ghost.

That unbiddable feeling of longing had always seemed to accompany the sight of him; but now it’s different. Now, there’s a blistering, brutal pain to come with; All-encompassing grief, thick as molasses in your lungs, overturning itself like a phantom from wherever you thought you’d buried it a long time ago. 

The only way to smother it would be to reach out, to hold him like you had once before, and isn’t that an ironic inconvenience? 

“No, no. I’m sorry,” you tell him, sigh coming out as an awkward laugh. A breeze passes and you inhale deep to ground yourself. Press your eyes shut momentarily to will away useless tears. “It must be so weird to hear all of this from me about— well, you, technically.”

“Mais, can’t ‘ave all been a bad memory, tho’, right?”

Right. No. It hadn’t been. There’s something else too. An undercurrent. Beyond the grief, the deep ache in your marrows— you think it’s nostalgia. Hiraeth. More bittersweet than it is painful.

It’s… It’s watching mutant schoolkids teaching him UNO for the first time. It’s the bickering over the beignets for breakfast, or your feet on his lap at the couch in the lounge after dinners with the rest of the X-Men. Lazy banter. Conversations that go everywhere and nowhere.

“Yeah,” you agree, feeling something bloom in your chest you thought long lost. “You taught me everything about your home, too. Down South. Told me about the bayou, the cypress trees. Your Cajun, your ways. We used to play Bourré.”

Talk of home has him ducking into a laugh. Remy had been in the Void far longer than the rest (he figures, at least)— he’s very nearly lost most of his fragmented memories to time by now. “Did I? Oughta’ play a game or two wit’ you.”

You buckle at that. “Ah. You were always the better player.”

Then:

He makes the leap before he runs out of steam. “Was we…?”

His finger darts between the space you two share.

“Oh, no,” you override, sheepishly. “No, we, we were good friends and stayed good friends. I was—” Your breath scurries; a reconsideration. “I was glad with that. You had a Southern belle named Anna Marie. A powerful mutant called Rogue. You two were good for each other.”

You must have given yourself away somewhere, though, the way Remy is reading you with a pinned gaze. It’s the same, levelled look you’ve seen before— the kind he gets in a game of cards. 

Something discerning eclipses in his eyes.

He’d gotten the measure of you in an instant. 

“Gambit musta’ been blind blind not t’see you.”

Ah.

You smile. It’s windswept. Resigned. “Well. Doesn’t matter now, does it? My Gambit’s gone. No matter how much I wish I can see him again.”

Remy’s eyes dart to your hands.

“Y’kno’, chèr,” he begins, something spirited in his tone. “In the world of cards, each a’ these and they suits hold a meanin’.”

He flourishes his deck, hypnotisingly smooth with every elegant cut, fan and spring. Every shuffle cascades as smooth as liquid in the sleight of his hands.

“Some of my folks back in New Orleans I remember, they learned me to read ‘em. Now, outta the whole deck? What you got there; the Nine of Hearts is also called the Wish card.”

The small laugh that punches out of you is bell-like. “Really?” 

It’s warm. Bright. Musical to his ears. It washes over him, and he can’t help but hang on to the peal. He wanted to hear it again. 

“Yes, Ma’am.” Remy clicks his tongue as he shoots you a sunny look. “Would never lie t’you, chèr.”

The cracks in your soul don’t disappear, but they surely lighten as you look gently at him. “Huh. Well, I guess I got my wish, didn’t I?” 

He chuckles. 

“Mais, I ain’t your Gambit but—” 

He leans. Reaches out behind your ear with an empty palm, playfully revealing a gilded card from seemingly thin air with a sharp flick of his wrist:

Another Nine of Hearts. His. He hands it over to you, by way of meaning—  I’m here, now.

New beginnings.

You take the card with a smile.

[pinkusmaximus]

So many “taking care of Logan after a long day” fics exist. Why not Wade?

Wade, who is canonically in constant chronic pain due to cancer ripping apart his cells and then being knitted back together by his healing factor. Who, in the comics, isn’t just scarred, but constantly has open wounds on every plane of his body. Whose brain is constantly being literally eaten by cancer and replaced and is tumultuous in his emotions at best (bipolar girly here, relatable). Who so desperately tries to be a good guy when he knows it matters the most. Who throws his all into protecting the people he holds dearest to him. Who is, in reality, doing one of the only jobs that accommodates his conditions, and is still doing it to take out people he believes are causing others harm.

Doesn’t he deserve to be greeted with a warm, reassuring hug and a soft kisses to his features? To be helped out of his suit as his body succumbs to the mounting exhaustion and relief at being at home, taken to a warm (but not hot) bath with a soothing soak blend you’d carefully researched to ease the discomfort of the ever-changing landscape of hills and valleys in his flesh? He knows you know that they don’t help him heal and certainly doesn’t prevent them from reappearing, but he likes to believe (or pretend) that it eases the itch and ache, if only for just a little while.

He likes it when you sit with him, asking gently probing questions about your day to get you talking and less concerned about him. And he likes hearing about your day, the mundane and even routine things that he lacks. He likes it when you offer to help wash the blood off of him, knowing that your careful hands will be gently massaging away at his aching muscles. It’s one of the few times he’s really quiet; letting your hands work off the red to leave behind Wade, just Wade.

When you help him out of the bath, leaving him to the bedroom with his favorite pajama pants and one of seemingly unending shirts with phrases like I GOT MY CLIT PIERCED AT CLAIRE’S or I MAY BE STUPID, you return to the kitchen to take dinner out of the oven. Some kind of one-sheet-pan recipe you’d looked up earlier in the day while you were at work. Whatever it is, it smells amazing from in the bedroom, and he quickly comes out to wrap his arms around your waist and lean over your shoulder to take a deeper whiff, calling you Martha Stewart and Guy Fieri’s bastard scandal child or asking if you were extracted straight out of Gordon Ramsey’s left nut.

You have a lovely dinner with Wade singing your praises the entire time, and god, it knocks him right out. Do not let that man go sit on the couch after a good, filling meal like that, because that is where he will pass out and you couldn’t move him with a forklift. Take him by both hands, lead him into the bedroom, get him on the bed (let him make his comments, they are unavoidable whether he’s horny or not), turn the lights off, and crawl under the covers with him. Press your body as close to his as possible; he’ll probably want to be skin to skin if he can stay awake long enough to get you both out of your clothes. And to perhaps everyone’s surprise except yours, it’s really not all that sexual in nature. He finds the smoothness of your skin soothing against his own, and he runs a little cold, so he finds refuge in the warmth you provide. He likes to pull the covers up to your noses and kiss you under the blankets like you’re hiding some big secret, making you giggle as he shushes you to keep quiet.

His favorite place to sleep on nights like this is with his ear against your chest; the sound of your heart still beating and your lungs still pulling in air is a great comfort to him. If it’s comfortable, he’ll want to fall asleep with your fingers lazily entwined, and pro tip— he finds it incredibly relaxing to have you run your fingertips along his palm, down his wrist and up in the inside of his forearm then all the way back down until he falls asleep. Congratulations, you’ve got yourself a content and quiet Wade all to yourself until morning. Enjoy it. Make sure you kiss his cheeks and nose and forehead while you’re at it; it makes him smile in his sleep.

[hannieehaee]

18+ / mdi

content: loser!jungkook, sub!jungkook, softdom!reader, oral (m receiving), etc.

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

wc: 1632

a/n: i havent read the previous three parts in months so if theres any discrepancies pls forgive</3

masterlist

in the time you'd known jungkook, you'd never actually been to his apartment.

he was at university on a scholarship, meaning that he didn't have to worry about paying for schooling or dorming. any money he earned from tutoring or any allowance received by his parents was all his to keep, meaning that his current residence was nicer than that of the average student.

despite being aware of all of this, you were still quite shocked the first time he brought you around.

unlike what you'd expected, jungkook's spacious studio apartment was not filled with nerdy figurines and stacks of comic books (god, that would've been adorable). instead, it replicated the appearance of the average bachelor pad. the furniture appeared of good quality, the bed was comfy, the decor clean, and even the cleanliness gave you a vibe of maturity and put-togetherness that you hadn't quite gotten from jungkook yet. at least not to this extent.

the most shocking thing, though? that was jungkook himself; his look and demeanor while lounging around his apartment.

he'd been growing his hair recently, something which you adored, though tonight had been the first time you'd ever seen him with it without the proper care you assumed went to it every morning. the messy curls laid at the sides, fluffy after a whole day of being worn and played with by the wind. accompanied by that, he donned some loose sweats and a simple tank top, two garments you'd never once seen on the boy. he tended to go for less casual outfits while in public, usually wearing buttoned up flannels or graphic tees.

unfortunately for you, his slight change in look had an instant effect on you. had anyone else seen him like this, you were sure they'd pursue him immediately. as of late, more and more girls were taking notice of him. since meeting you, his confidence had gone up and his way of presenting himself had evolved quite a bit. just a few more months and you were sure he'd become a heartthrob by all definition of the word.

"god, you're gorgeous," you practically whimpered as soon as he let you in, having taken a few moments to simply stare at him before pecking his lips as a greeting.

"oh, i- thanks. you're prettier," he mumbled back as he welcomed you in, "sorry it's a little messy."

he must've been kidding. the place was insanely tidy! you expected as much from jungkook, but it was still surprising to find a college-aged boy with cleanliness.

"it's perfect, baby. show me to your room?", you went straight into business.

with a sheepish smile, he led you to his room.

you had previously agreed that you'd be spending the night tonight. it was your first sleepover at his place, which had you both giddy at the thought. there was no special reason for it other than your sudden insistence for it about a week ago, claiming you wanted to see where a one jeon jungkook spent his nights away from you.

he was shy about it at first, as per usual, but agreed after a few smiles and kisses from you.

and so now you had the privilege of laying on his bed on a saturday night, clad in a pair of his boxers and an oversized shirt of his as you waited for him to do his skincare.

you had insisted on not packing an overnight bag, knowing jungkook would have anything you needed at his place — he was very well put together, after all.

smiling at him as soon as he entered the room, you extended your arms to motion him over to the bed, causing him to chuckle shyly as he stepped towards you. once he was at a close enough distance, you grabbed at his arms, pulling him to the bed and somehow managing to get him to lay down, climbing on him immediately after.

"hey, there, gorgeous," you flirted, hands on his shoulders and full weight sitting on his crotch area. it wouldn't take long until you found a tent under you.

"you don't have to try and fluster me every time you see me anymore, you know ..." he mumbled as he lost any ounce of control under you.

"where's the fun in that?", you smirked as your hands traced their way under his shirt, pulling it off him without a second thought, "god, how'd you get even more handsome?", you groaned as you took him in, so pretty below you with his long hair and his breathless state.

"i- i just- oh-,"

you gave him no chance to speak, choosing instead to quickly throw off your his own shirt and lower your lips down to his. the kiss was immediately heated. you could never really help yourself around jungkook, but fortunately, he liked that about you.

he'd gotten a bit less shy with time. his hands were more willing to explore your body nowadays, currently finding themselves on your waist as he pulled you closer to him.

you adored how much more comfortable he'd gotten around you, both sexually and not so. at times, he'd even initiate sex with you. these instances were a bit awkward for him, but you always liked to encourage him, letting him know through your enthusiasm how much you enjoyed it when he went after what he wanted.

however, you still had to keep him on his toes somehow.

like now.

"no touching, baby," you murmured between kisses, grabbing onto his hands and pinning them above his head as you leaned down onto him.

with a simple gulp, he nodded, lips shyly smooching so you'd kiss him again.

continuing your kiss, your hands went down to his torso, sneaking under the fabric and beginning to play with the skin there. your fingers traced the ridges of his abs, adoring how he shuddered against you but made no complaint. the silent effect of your actions only lasted up until your hands made their way north, eventually finding his nipples and tracing them teasingly.

the poor boy under you whimpered against your lips. his arms made some movement, but did not stray away from where you'd left them above his head, still pressed together as he attempted to follow your directions and not touch you.

your next move was to rid him of his clothes altogether, requiring to get off him for a few moments but immediately taking your rightful place straddling him on his bed once more.

"prettiest thing i've ever seen," you hummed as you looked down at him, leaning down to press kisses on every inch available.

"please ..." he mumbled when your lips first made contact with his chest, knowing their next destination.

ignoring him, you continued as before, letting your lips find their way to his nipple and twirling your tongue around it in a teasing manner. your barely there touch had him whining at the contact, wanting more from you.

you took pity on him, deciding to go all the way and suckling on the bud just how you knew he liked. except the poor boy could barely handle the pleasurable pain that came from it. he writhed under you as you alternated between pecs, filling his chest with love bites that'd flourish by the next morning.

the kisses made their way down his body, landing at his happy trail by the time you lowered yourself to your knees at the end of the bed. with a bite to your lip, you enjoyed the view of what was to be in your mouth in mere moments.

jungkook sat up, wanting to see what threat of pleasure approached him next. he groaned upon seeing how hungry you looked eyeing his hardness, but he remained a good boy by keeping his hands to his sides rather than reaching for you.

"a-ah, fuck," he groaned as soon as your lips made contact with his member, lightly closing in on his tip and suckling at it in a way that had his breath catching and eyes rolling back.

keeping your eyes on the trembling boy, you caught glimpse of his hands fisting harshly at the sheets, holding himself back from wrapping around your hair as he usually did. the thought made you smile around him. he was so so sweet and well mannered.

deciding to be just as nice, you engulfed as much of him as you could, practically deepthroating him. his reaction was immediate, whining and writhing above you while you had your fun with his cock.

"p-please, oh fuck, please," he pleaded for nothing in particular.

you weren't one to ever deny him of anything. every one of your actions was meant to aid him in his pleasure.

humming against him, you slobbered all over him, not minding the mess of your saliva and his cum slowly dripping down onto your chin as long as the pretty boy above you was losing himself because of you.

as per usual, his orgasm hit him pretty quick. as shy as he was, he was never too timid to let himself cum when he hit his limit. jungkook was one to appreciate the pretty girl giving him pleasure by demonstrating his immense appreciation.

it always got to you how loud he became while cumming, which was currently causing a mess in your panties. you decided to enjoy every drop of his orgasm before paying mind to that, though.

finally done torturing him by licking off any remnants off his dick, you climbed up his body and sat yourself on his lap with a smile, leaning in for a teasing tongue-filled kiss before humming in satisfaction against his breathless lips.

"did i tell you i love how you're growing out your hair?"

he gulped.

"you've, uh, you've mentioned."

[innerfare]

You See His Cabin For The First Time  

Summary: You see their cabin (or in Sabo's case, his bedroom at the RA base) for the first time.

Characters: Luffy, Usopp, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Sabo, Law, and Kid

Genre: Fluff

CW: None // SFW

——— 

Luffy: He's literally so proud of just his hammock. Insists it can hold the both of you and could probably hold the entire crew if you tried, asks if you want to try, asks you if you’re sure when you say no. Definitely has a couple of dirty dishes that he’s forgotten about, as well as a few wrappers on the floor. Has some fishing poles, a net, quite a few different games, and a bookshelf that’s full of both comic books and snacks so that he doesn’t have to go all the way to the kitchen if he gets hungry in the middle of the night. 

Zoro: Your first thought is, why does it smell so freaking good in here? You expected dirty laundry strewn around and the stench of sweat and maybe a hint of metal from those blades he was always sharpening. And sure, there is a hint of metal in the air, probably more from the many weights against the wall than his swords, but it also smells fresh, like laundry detergent. He has his own wanted posters on his wall- not just the current one, but the old ones, too, all of them lined up in order so you can see his increasing bounty. He also has a collection of unique booze bottles from all over the world, his equivalent of keeping a map with pins in the locations he’s visited. Oh, and there’s an anatomy coloring book and some markers that belong to Chopper that Zoro keeps in his room because sometimes when Chopper is having a bad day, he wants to chill with his dad big bro. 

Sanji: Sparkling clean, and yet, he’ll apologize anyway because the pillows aren’t fluffy enough, the rug isn’t completely straight, etcetera. His closet is very well organized, all of his clothes ironed and properly taken care of (Sanji’s the rare type to actually read labels and do his laundry accordingly). His most prized possession is a book on the All Blue, which he’s poured over countless times, using color coded tabs to flag various pages and writing detailed notes in the margins. He also came across one of Zeff’s old wanted posters in Loguetown, and he keeps it framed next to his own, the closest thing he has to a family photo.

Usopp: You’re surprised to find he has quite a bit of clutter in his small space. He has a collection of different style slingshots and a surplus of supplies to fix them should they ever break, as well as literal boxes full of special stars and ammunition. He has an entire set up rigged on his desk to create more, and some plants in his windowsill to grow ingredients. In addition, his bookshelves are heavy with various collections of fables and tales; he’s working on his own and hopes to publish it one day, but he doesn’t talk about it because he’s worried nobody will take him seriously, and you only learn about it when you see the notebook he left on his bed. He also has a couple of fun hats, crazy sunglasses, and feather boas that he definitely pulls out when the Straw Hats get a little too drunk. Oh, and there’s a picture of his parents on his nightstand. 

Ace: His cabin is pretty sparse because he tends to travel light. He has a collection of animal teeth secured from a menagerie of wild beasts he’s taken down over the years, and he’s very proud of those teeth. He'll tell you about each one if you ask, is practically bursting at the seems with stories. He has way more animal teeth than he does clothing or books. Also has a pretty sick tiger pelt for a rug (he had intended it as a blanket, but he runs so hot he can’t actually sleep with it). He has Luffy’s wanted poster on his wall, and beside it, a note reminding himself to send money back to Dadan on the first of every month. Buried in the chest at the foot of his bed, he has the original ASL flag. 

Sabo: His bedroom at the Revolutionary Army’s base is a total bachelor pad, and when you see it for the first time, it wasn’t planned, so he’s a little embarrassed by the state of it. He has some dirty dishes he forgot about, some dirty laundry on the floor, and a pile of books on his bed. He spends virtually no time there and probably wouldn’t even have furniture beyond a mattress on the floor if it wasn’t provided by the Revolutionary Army as part of his living quarters. That being said, he did pin Luffy’s and Ace’s wanted posters to his wall, and he has a couple of different lotions and skincare products on his bathroom counter. 

Law: You don’t know what you were expecting- would it be sterile like an operating room? You’re surprised to see comic books and a few action figures. He has some records, too- a bit of rock, some low-key emo music- and to your complete and utter surprise, a candy wrapper on his nightstand. And then there’s the coin collection on his desk, tiny pieces of metal he picked up on his many travels. You’re careful not to have a big reaction to his personality showing through for once. 

“I like your action figures.” 

“They’re kind of childish, but-” 

You cut him off before he can dismiss his own interests as dumb. “No, they’re not. They’re cool.” 

Kid: It’s as messy and ostentatious as you’d expect, but he sheepishly tries to fold the leopard-print blanket crumpled on the bed and put some laundry in the hamper, though you quickly deduce he has no clue which clothes belong in the hamper and which go in his closet. It’s shocking to see him care what someone thinks. He has a pile of lipstick and nail polish on his desk and an impressive collection of weapons he’s stolen from various pirates; he could probably open a museum with all the weapons he has. Also has lots of tools he forgot were in there. TBH, he’s probably as shocked as you are by the state of his cabin because he spends most of his alone time in his workshop, anyway. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[onceuponapuffin]

Ineffable Bureaucracy and Ineffable Husbands

So, especially in the early days after the release of S2, I saw and heard a lot of people comparing these two as if they were the same. There were fan comics and fanart and fanfiction that included dialogue that was something along the lines of "why are they so healthy after only a few years and we aren't?" or "why do THEY get a happy ending and we don't?" And I mean, I haven't seen any of that in a while so maybe people have come to this conclusion on their own, but just in case, I wanted to point out

That they are fundamentally different. They are not the same.

And the reason why comes down to this conversation from 2x3:

So, hold this conversation in your brain while we go through this.

First of all, we have our Ineffable Bureaucracy, Gabriel and Beelzebub.

So these are the ones who, figuratively speaking, were born in a castle.

Gabriel was the Supreme Archangel for however many millenia, and Beelzebub was the Grand Duke of Hell for the same, roughly speaking. They are equals in positions of power.

So, when they fall in love, you have two supernatural authorities who have lived their existences believing that they can reasonably expect to have and keep whatever they want. After all, that's exactly what their lives have been (with the one exception being Beelzebub's Fall) - they want something, they get it, they keep it, and no one tells them no.

The biggest risk is to Gabriel. If Heaven were to find out, he would Fall. I can imagine Beelzebub being a bit concerned, but "Oh no," Gabriel probably figured "I Fall to Hell, and straight into your arms!" And I could see Beelzebub with a little smirk saying "I'd look after you, babe," in response.

The only time Gabriel actually worries is when he finds out that there's another punishment that he didn't realize was a possibility.

Falling to Hell is one thing, but having his memories erased is an actual threat, and possibly the first time he's ever been told no. This is when we see him panic, and leave Heaven in a mess, storing his memories away to keep them safe from the Metatron. We find out later that he was on his way to Hell anyway and just forgot halfway there and got lost.

And so, we have two beings who were always told they were Good Enough, who approached each other knowing they were able to have whatever they wanted, and were therefore able to communicate and fall in love in a healthy way. They didn't need to tip toe or hide, because they had no reason to believe anyone would ever tell them no until someone did. Their risk, because of their positions of authority, wasn't nearly as great as Aziraphale and Crowley's risk.

So now we come to our Precious Ineffable Husbands

Crowley and Aziraphale start off in much lower positions on the Celestial Food Chain. We know that they have to be very careful about their relationship to avoid the repercussions. They can't mention The Arrangement out loud, they can't put their feelings for each other into words. It has been made clear to them that they are always being watched, and anything they have can be taken away from them on a whim.

So how can they communicate safely when they've spent millenia living on eggshells and tightropes? Of course they won't, and of course it's going to be much harder for them to believe they can once they finally are safe. I definitely believe that they will get there (for my own wellbeing I have to believe that their love is stronger than anything), but they will need to fight tooth and nail in a way that Gabriel and Beelzebub didn't. All because they aren't figures of authority.

It might honestly be another good argument for Crowley taking the Grand Duke of Hell job (even though I reeeeaaaally don't want him to). It would put them in the same position as Gabriel and Beelzebub, and might give them the footing to actually escape the system (even though I think it's more likely that they're going to dismantle and/or repair the system in s3, but that's my own opinion).

These two pairs aren't mirrors of each other. Rather, they illustrate the problems with inequity that Crowley was pointing out in Edinburgh. And if S2 showed us that, I'm hoping S3 will show us possible solutions for it.

[somerandomdudelmao]

Is— So I might be wrong but I think this is the first time color has appeared in the comic

I’m not talking about the references for Casey’s uncle powered clothes; this is straight up in the comic like a shining beacon

And it’s F!Leo’s blue ninpō starting to die

This has made me think of a fic I read where part of the plot was who Leon is. And the author said that he is the family’s hope.

So even after the entire apocalypse, where he kept up the fight and tried to keep everyone’s spirits up, when he and his hope are finally dying

Casey and his baby brother come in as fuel for that flickering flame of hope. They shield it, power it, fuel it.

F!Leo didn’t seem to fade until he was taken out of his brothers’ bandanas. He thought that was it, his brothers must be gone. There’s no one left to care about. And then he’s suddenly held by someone unmistakably his baby brother, and he lets himself hope just that little bit more. To not fade immediately.

Leo is the light of hope in the family. But he needs his family just as much as they need him.

Idk if I’m over analyzing, but GOODNESS I love the writing behind this comic!!!!

While I think you're right and expressed it beautifully, I want to add one thing.

Leo's death is not the only time I intentionally and consistently used colors.

There's another one

Do with this knowledge whatever you want haha

[sadesluvr]

The Bride — PART TWO.

PART ONE

Thad, yes, Thad (short for Thaddeus) went by the common name of Jude. He was one of those men with Roman numerals at the end of his name; the same kind who had summer houses and Fortune 500 companies, which was why your ‘marriage’ had made sense in the first place. Whilst you weren’t a millionaire, you came from a stable home with decent money, making you the perfect partner for someone like Jude. You’d met at college, and as soon as you’d graduated, he’d taken you home to his parents and popped the question.  

And being a foolish, naive little twenty-one-year-old...you said yes.  

Contrary to how these ordeals typically went, Jude wasn’t an old man – at least not biologically, his mentality was debatable - but two years older than you. As they often did, your relationship started off as a fairytale; with financial stability and relative freedom, at least until you found out that his fathers’ company – the place he’d one day inherit – had been moving donations from the children’s and elderly charities they sponsored and pocketed it for their own.  

This revelation came at a time when you’d also found that Jude had been screwing one of his secretaries...so naturally, you decided to blackmail him. 

Which turned into extortion.  

It wasn’t really your fault; it was an eye for an eye. So long as he added your name to his will – which he’d neglected to tell you he hadn’t done – no one would hear about the funds.  

He then retaliated with hiding assets, routinely checking wads of cash with a UV light for your fingerprints so you could be left without freedom. 

You responded with a car crash and insurance fraud in his name. 

It was this kind of push-pull, give-take, fucked up excuse of a relationship that continued for seven years, ultimately bringing you to Havana today. Jude’s 30th birthday, one set to be shared with both of your families - and his mistress of the week.  

Even throughout all your chaos and drama, you had never expected it to end in a murder. Luckily for you, you’d evolved to become someone who thought two steps ahead. Just how ‘coincidental’ had it been for you to receive an unexpected drink from a mysterious gentleman, only two weeks after you’d overheard a conversation between Jude and his friends? 

“She’s fucking crazy, man. Straight psycho. I don’t know how she got this way, but I don’t know how much longer I’ll put up with it.” 

“Be fucking serious, man. You’ll never leave her. She might leave you, but you won’t. For one, you like the attention, and for two there’s too much wrapped in it. Your parents like her, and imagine all that stress going through in changing those estate papers? The only way you get out of this looking good without her tearing you to shreds is if she dies, and you become the sad, grieving widow.” 

���…So you see my predicament?” 

Tangerine was frowning, his moustache comically pointing downwards as his eyes remained blank, trying to take in everything you’d said, whilst Lemon, equally shocked, was also somewhat impressed; a hand covering his face as he tapped his lips with his index finger. It was silent until Lemon spoke, stretching as he did. 

“So, you’ve single-handedly committed fraud, blackmail, theft and staged a car crash —“ 

“—Whilst shaggin’ a Cuban bellboy three times a boy three times a year.” 

“— Whilst shaggin’ a Cuban bellboy three times a year, but never went and offed this bastard yourself? What’s taking you so long?” 

“I don’t know how to use a gun.” You said earnestly, earning a nod of approval from the two men. It wasn’t a lie; just easier to say than the much larger, uncomfortable fact that you’d never really seen a way out of it all.  

The two men looked between each-other before glancing back down at the $20K. The money was there, and you’d presented a convincing enough argument – they just had to make sure there were no underlying risks. 

“And this husband of yours, he hasn’t got any hitmen or gangs around him has he?” Tangerine said, and you chuckled before vehemently shaking your head. “How do we know there ain’t a bounty on us if we don’t get his job done?” 

“I promise you, he’s just an ordinary white collar worker, nothing close to a Steve Jobs. You’d only have to worry about an enquiry, but I know a way of making this all spotless…Do we have a deal?” 

The Twins glanced at each-other again, with Tangerine raising a finger before dragging his brother around the corner, hands placed on his hips in frustration. Lemon looked behind him cautiously, his deep brown eyes painted with an inexplicable expression. 

“Right, now what do you make of all this, then?” 

“I think she’s a Mavis.” 

“Oh, fucking hell, Lemon —“ 

“No, no, no, hear me out on this one,” his brother interjected, raising a hand to silence him.

“Mavis is a Diesel, but she’s one of the good ones. Look, she starts off arrogant, feisty, a little naïve…but throughout time she matures and respects the other engines,” he said before nodding in your direction. “She got hitched at twenty-one, mate – maybe once we kill this fucker she can mature too. And hopefully go to therapy…” 

Tangerine shook his head, not because of the annoying tangent Lemon had taken, but the fact that it actually made sense. Running his tongue over his lips, he exhaled before taking out his phone and texting their handler, simply stating that ‘plans had changed’. 

“Right,” he said, clapping his hands together. “Let’s go bring her the good news.” 

When they returned you had opened the balcony doors, sat on the patio whilst indulging in another cigarette, staring out onto the streets of Havana. Couples walked hand in hand down the roads, whilst some men sat on the corners, laughing to themselves in the sunset and the dimming street lights, unbeknownst to the Shakespearean situation you’d found yourself in.  

Whether it was the buzz from the nicotine filled stick, or simply the fact that you’d become nothing but a black hole over the years, you were eerily calm; indulgent scenarios of Jude’s death playing in your mind like a movie.  

The two men – Lemon and Tangerine as you’d figured out – seemed decent enough, as decent as assassins could go, but you had no doubt that should your plan fall apart you’d be able to wriggle your way out of it. Because somehow, you always did. 

“Alright, love. Listen up,” Tangerine announced clapping and rubbing his hands together as he drew a seat opposite you, with Lemon leaning up against the balcony, arms folded over his chest. “We’ll do it. But we’ve got a few rules for ‘ya–“ 

“- We’re the professionals,”  Lemon interjected. “You can give us your ideas, but if we don’t like it, we ain’t doin’ it. Capeesh?” 

You nodded. 

“That’s right. If you fuck us over, or if we don’t get our money, your head is goin’ to be first on the chopping block, d’ya hear me? No second chances.” 

“Got it.” 

“And finally,” Lemon said ominously, walking over to you in his attempt to be intimidating. He was deadly, of course, but he didn’t have an inherent instability like Tangerine did. “You must never speak about this. If this shit blows up in our face, we don’t wanna see you crying on the news about ‘secret assassins’ n’ all that bullshit. We appreciate your discretion, yeah?” 

“I understand,” you hummed before rolling your eyes. “Why are you so convinced I’m going to turn on you? I hate my husband, and you’re practically giving me a way out.” 

“Well, I don’t know darling, maybe it’s got somethin’ to do with the fact that ‘yer first instinct was to blackmail ya husband when you found out he was cheating,” The moustached man said, raising his hands matter of factly. “Not knockin’ you darl’, it’s a good move, but you’ve got a pattern.” 

“You’re a Mavis.” 

“A who?” 

“Mavis from Thomas the Tank Engine. She’s a Diesel train, but she’s not like the others. You see, when she arrives in Sodor –“ 

“Can we hold the Thomas talk for one second, Lemon?” Tangerine scoffed. “We’re talkin’ business here.” 

“No, no, I wanna hear this,” you said with a smirk, cocking a eyebrow as you leaned in and stumped out your cigarette. “Besides, it’s getting late. Can’t we figure this out in the morning?” 

The man opened his mouth to protest, but Lemon nodded in agreement. 

“Ignore him, love. He gets cranky when he hasn’t had a nap,” he said, and you covered your mouth to giggle, much to the chagrin of the man next to you. Lemon looked down at his watch. “It’s only 9PM. We’ve pulled all-nighters before; I don’t see why we can’t do it again...” 

The two of you made googly eyes at Tangerine, as if you were children asking their parents to stay up for an extra hour. He looked between you both, ultimately letting out a frustrated sigh before popping his collar. 

“Alright,” he huffed. “I’m goin’ to get a fuckin’ drink because I don’t have the patience to deal with you two babies. When I get back, we’re dealin’ with this arsehole, got it?” He finished with a sickly faux smile. 

“Is he always like this?” you murmured to Lemon. 

“He’s a Gordon, he has no choice.” 

“Fuck me...” the man grunted, shaking his head as he made his way towards the door, pretending to ignore each of your requests for a drink and some snacks, with you specifying that yours weren’t poisoned.

He breathed a sigh of relief once he reached the hallway, striding towards the stairs to the lobby and in the direction of the bar, fiddling with his clothes upon reaching the counter. It wasn’t often that he made alliances, but he couldn’t deny that you were promising – already possessing the art of manipulation and recklessness needed to be an assassin.  

Raising a finger, he ordered a drink with the bartender, making a mental note to stop by the lobby vending machine for Lemon’s items, before glancing around at the clientele.  

Some of them seemed to be well off, like you, whilst others seemed middle to working class, and the longer he looked around the more it became apparent to him that he was looking for someone – the nameless bellboy you’d hooked up with – only to find Jude himself, (he recognised him from the photos you’d shown them) sat across the bar with his mistress, laughing obnoxiously loudly. She wore a skimpy red dress, and if he hadn’t had known better, he would’ve considered her a sugar baby, prostitute, or somewhere in between. 

Squinting, he found himself fidgeting again as he watched the sordid scene in front of him, with the bastard probably thinking that his wife was hunched over, puking her guts out into a toilet before she inevitably keeled over and died. He normally didn’t care about interpersonal relationships – it wasn’t part of his job – but he knew enough about the man to know that he wasn’t worth saving...even if you yourself weren’t morally infallible.  

Perhaps that was the reason he was resisting the urge to beat the life out of him. Either that, or the fact that he wanted you. 

Grumbling to himself, he downed a glass of whiskey before lighting a cigarette, taking a long drag as held the nicotine in his lungs and puffing it out like a dragon. 

All was fine until the bastard himself decided to make a comment. 

“Hey -- You can’t smoke here, dude,” Jude said in his snotty American accent. “Have some respect for the lady.” 

Tangerine shrugged, plastering a fake smile onto his face.  

“My apologies, I didn’t realise you worked here, mate.” 

Jude winced, his mistress shifting uncomfortably in his arms.  

“I don’t, but I’m sure you can --” 

“Well, that settles it then, doesn’t it?” the man interjected, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.  “Bloody smart-arse, you are.” 

The woman clambered off him, watching as Jude became visibly more agitated, hands fidgety and eyes bulging. 

“They’re not good for you, anyway,” Jude continued, clearing his throat. “My ex-wife could barely pry herself from those things. No wonder she died.” 

Tangerine didn’t visibly react but found himself wholly amused at the fact that he was so confident to have thought you were dead already. Rigor mortis hadn’t even kicked in yet. 

“Yeah, well, if I had a partner that was anything like you, I’d smoke twelve packs a day fucking hoping that my lungs would dry up like ‘yer nan’s fanny,” he sniffed. “Fucking headache, trying to deal with you.” 

Jude winced.  

“I wouldn’t go there,” he said, his voice stern, but there was something in his stature that was rather unconvincing. “You don’t know what I’m capable of.” 

“Oh, I’m real scared. Fucking quaking,” Tangerine laughed. His hands itched to knock the life out of him, but knew that watching you slaughter him would be far more stimulating. “I pity you. You don’t even know what the fucks coming.” 

Slamming a note and a few coins on the table, he walked off without a second thought. It may have been one of the few times he walked away from a battle, but he was certainly not going to lose the war. 

Taglist: @mylatest-hyperfixation @thewizardcat @j23r23 (For commenting!🤍✨)

[absfawn]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤcamgirl!ellie headcanons ! 𝟏𝟖+

a/n: hihi! this is something that me and @coeurify have been working on for like the past week or more. this is just a small first installment to our camgirl!ellie. we’ve spent a while sending ideas back and forth, sharing as we go and this is what we came up with. sooo, i hope that you enjoy our little camgirl!ellie headcanons. ilysm, thank you for creating this lil universe with me ♡

꒰ ♡ ꒱ camgirl!ellie who you’ve been dating for almost a year and you were always under the impression she worked at a local music store or simply at a comic book store when that was far from the truth. And she genuinely can’t help but get shy and nervous when you finally figure out what she actually does, on a day when you accidentally walk into her bedroom after a quick shift at work to find her sprawled out on your shared bed, hair messy, perky nipples hard, hips stuttering with each movement and her fingers buried in her cunt. The sounds of her pussy and soft yet gentle whimpers filled the silence of the bedroom while she looked at you with wide, doe eyes.

“well aren’t you just a sight, baby? If me coming home from work every day means i get to see you being a needy little slut, i’m definitely not complaining”

꒰ ♡ ꒱ camgirl!ellie who one night decides to sit down with you after you shockingly walked in on her during one of her live streams on one evening after a long day of work, and dinner that she felt that it was the right time to explain to you what she really did as her job. The whole time she was watching you nervously as she explained, her fingers twitching and cheeks flushed the longer you just nodded along to her words, not really replying with anything of your own, but clearly paying attention to what she was saying.

꒰ ♡ ꒱ camgirl!ellie who sometimes, on ‘certain’ nights that she knows you won’t be home from work at your usual time because you pick up extra shifts, will set up her camera in the bedroom, computer left untouched beside her, the donations already flowing the second she goes live but barely noticing what any of them say while she shamelessly scrolls through her phone, most likely looking through the pictures you’ve taken for her and only her, as she works her fingers in and out of her cunt, the soft whimpers and the sound of her pussy quickly filling the bedroom and that breathless chuckle she lets out when she’s found herself on your text messages and can barely stop herself from being a brat and sending you the link to her stream. Knowing damn well you’ll be trying to keep yourself together while at work the second you open it.

꒰ ♡ ꒱ camgirl!ellie who can’t help but clench her thighs tightly around her hand when hearing the certain donation sound going off on her computer that she almost dropped the phone onto her face when she turns just slightly to notice your high amount donation for the night. You were always donating to her, and telling her what to do, and she loved it. Some nights you were ruthless with your demands but other times you were so gentle with them. just loving the she sounds lets out when her fingers would reach that spongey spot inside her that has her eyes rolling back and thighs shaking and the way her face contorts in pleasure would have you losing your mind. Ellie loved all the donations and love she was given from the people who enjoyed what she made and what she did, but she adored and cherished yours the most.

☆ “There you go baby, spread your legs wider, wanna see all of you”

☆ “I bet you wish those were my fingers, don’t you baby? riding my fingers until you can barely think straight huh? Just need to be taken care of and fucked until you only know my name”

☆ “Oh, you’re doing so well, such a good pup”

☆ “Don’t be shy now baby, rub your pretty little clit for me while you fuck yourself, i know you can take it”

☆ “You’re so wet, been thinkin’ about me huh?”

꒰ ♡ ꒱ camgirl!ellie who definitely gets really shy when you do join one of her cam streams. You usually sit on the chair behind the camera, leaning back against the soft cushion while your eyes trail slowly between her shaking thighs, watching how she fucks her fingers in and out of her cunt at your demanded pace. Your own wetness no doubt pooling between your own thighs at the sounds of her needy whines, the slick sounds coming from her pussy, and the pathetic yet adorable pleas coming from her lips for you to touch her, always has you throwing any sense out the window as you always gave into her. “so pretty like this, baby” you coo, chuckling under your breath when her hips buck up into you when your fingers graze her thigh. “need my fingers don’t you, sweet girl? how about you use your words for me, hm? wouldn’t wanna disappoint all your viewers now would you? or disobey me by not using your words”

“n-no mommy” she whimpers, face flushed, tears stained on her cheeks and thighs twitching as your fingers slide down her stomach. “want your fingers— need them, please”

꒰ ♡ ꒱ camgirl!ellie who once she started letting you in on her… peculiar job.. just can't stop. She’s addicted. Addicted to the sight of your eyes behind the camera. Addicted to how you lounge on the couch and lick over your lips, nodding her on to that beautiful spacey feeling that takes over when she’s under your gaze. So addicted that she’s needy for you to be there when she films. She whines and begs for you to be there. Whether behind the little camera she’d saved up for, or planted right on the bed with her, face between her plush thighs— for all her viewers to watch, to see while she gets ruined.

“Where are you?” She’d huff over the phone, chewing on her cracked lip. “ ‘M at work baby, told you it’d be a late day.” Your fingers swirling around the phone cord in your office, smiling at the barely there whine in her voice. 

“But i want to film,” she would complain, squeezing her heated thighs together at the chuckle you responded with. “So film?” 

“Never cum as hard when you aren’t here.” 

꒰ ♡ ꒱ camgirl!ellie who has the idea one day to fuck you on camera. she’s shifting around on the scratchy green couch in your shared apartment, her head in your lap, fingers running through the auburn locks of hair. She’s so fidgety about it, kicking her feet, playing with her fingers, shivering too hard when you scratch at her scalp. just the thought of being on top of you has her stomach all tight, cheeks all flushed.

“why are you moving around so much?” 

“I- uh, nothing.” 

“spit it out, el.” 

“I have an idea.”

꒰ ♡ ꒱ camgirl!ellie who you actually let wear the strap, laying back on the white sheets of the bed, head tilted as you watch her shaking hands tighten the harness over her plaid boxers, a little smile on your lips when she stumbles toward you. “Gonna be good for me, make me feel good?” you coo as she pulls your hips flat against the bed, her heartbeat almost loud enough for you to hear. her fingers playing over your black panties. “mhm mommy, please let me.” she would beg, voice loud enough for the camera to hear. the minute she spoke, the minute her calloused hands spread your thighs, hooked around your panties, the donations start pouring in.

“can i go faster?” in a sweet little beg. 

“p-please, please need—need to make you cum.” 

“fuck— mommy you’re so wet. feel s’good.”

꒰ ♡ ꒱ camgirl!ellie whose viewers are just obsessed with you as she is. The views are always doubled, the chimes of the donations always steadfast when you join the auburn haired girl behind the screen, or when your voice fills the dimmed bedroom. So what’s better than a stream where they get to donate to you? Your fingers running over Ellie’s sticky and swollen folds, humming as you wait for the next donation to come in, to help you decide what to do to the squirming girl under you, begging for anything more than the slow and steady rub you give her throbbing core. Her soft cries do nothing but build up that blazing power that settles over your flesh when you see her like this. So desperate for you. 

“please put ‘em in, pl-please pleaseplease.” 

“its not me you’ve gotta beg baby, your viewers like teasing just as much as me.”

“what should i do next?” ding “ahh, see that baby? they’re finally letting me put a finger in that sweet pussy of yours.” 

꒰ ♡ ꒱ camgirl!ellie who wants nothing more than to just crawl under the covers and sleep after the camera flicks off. But you always press kisses to her cheek, murmuring soft praises against her sweaty skin as you clean off her thighs and pinch her cheeks open so she will drink the water you press against her lips. “You’re my perfect girl,” you tell her as you press new boxers up and over her shaky legs. “Did so good for me today, get some rest.” But she always pulls you right in with her, tattooed arm flexing as she tugs you against the comforter and presses her red cheek against your skin, seeking the comfort of you.

tags; @fleshunger @baumbii

[favoritebatfam]

OK, do you know how there’s so much age Fuckery in Canon?

I’m thinking that’s because no one actually has that many legal documents.

Dick Grayson was born in a circus. I don’t know if he was born in a hospital or if it was at homebirth, but it is also kind of likely and (I read it in a fic somewhere) where his parents lied about his age so that he could get away with performing.

Jason Todd was a crime Alley kid who is unceremoniously adopted. He is also still legally dead, and I feel like it is heavily debated in the family if you can count those months that he was dead as him living, or if they shifted his birthday somehow. Bonus points if you think about the post floating around that age resets after you end up in the pit so Jason is now the youngest.

Tim Drake uns so many secret identity scams, that I will not be surprised if he’s genuinely forgotten how old he is. I mean, Janet and Jack could’ve also done the same thing that the Grayson‘s dead and lie about ages so their son would be taken more seriously as an adult and just never remember afterward.

Damian Wayne tends to have more consistent ages, but I still think that his aging might be a little messed up due to the fact he was grown inside of a tube. This is straight from the comics. We don’t know if he came out as a baby, or he came out as a toddler. For all we know, he came out as like a five-year-old because Ra Al Ghul didn’t want to have to deal with his heir being weak.

With Bruce and Alfred, it’s a little hard to justify the age fuckery, but I’ve come up with some ideas things that might help.

I think that Bruce kind of stopped celebrating his birthday after his parents died. He might’ve picked up celebrating again after he adopted dick, but he probably doesn’t put any candles on a cake or anything or at least any number candle. Probably a lot of people have also forgotten how old he is, and a lot of the family are trying to look through newspapers to find out about Bruce’s birth. There could also be some sort of thing where there’s a debate about time travel counting towards his age and if he is older than he is supposed to be or younger or whatever.

Alfred just straight up immortal. he’s done so much in his life that it’s kind of hard to figure out how old or young he could be. I’ve seen a couple different theories floating around where He got blessed by some being, or if you go with the Gotham is sentient theory, Gotham is slowing both his and Bruce’s aging. Also, Alfred is very strong and has to be very fast in order to be able to clean all of the manner and not get sick or die.

Actually, this is kind of pointing towards maybe the bat family having so much to do with the general curses of Gotham or maybe even blessings from being safe, helped that they probably have fucked up ages. I genuinely don’t know. I am sleep deprived and very curious now and will probably make a skit later after I take a nap or look through more Tumblr posts.

Enjoy my ramblings.

[weebsinstash]

He's not in the show yet but as a comic reader I've been thinking a lot about how ABSOLUTELY AWFUL it would be to be a human captive of the Viltrumites and, forget Mark, forget Nolan, those two would not even compare because THRAGG is the real mf you don't want to be yandere for you

I was sitting and thinking about it and like. Just. Imagine being in a relationship or platonic yandere situationship with the Grayson family and then, boom, the invasion happens. You're just a helpless little human and Nolan traps you away to keep you safe while everything you've ever known and loved is taken from you. By the time you're "let out" the Earth and most of its major cities have been all but razed and Viltrumites and their construction drones are EVERYWHERE, rebuilding what was broken, essentially erasing the history of humanity

You're now a "registered human" under the official Viltrumite occupation of Earth. You have to wear an identification badge that can be scanned to identify you, to designate which Viltrumite you belong to, like some cat with a collar tag, and it also tracks your location at all times. Humans have extremely limited rights, and Nolan and Mark heavily restrict which other humans you can interact with because the occupying forces don't want some kind of rebellion (mostly though Mark and Nolan just couldn't risk any dumb humans putting any silly ideas in your head and getting you hurt when this life is good for you after all :( and what if some nasty little rebel tried to kiss you--)

But I just. I just picture Reader being Nolan's mate and at some point, you're sitting in your completely Viltrum-constructed home with Viltrum robots and androids that cook and clean and do everything for you and completely take away all your usefulness and agency for yourself when, someone comes to visit. Another Viltrumite you recognize from the broadcasts on TV. All you understand is that he's Nolan's boss on some level or another, and he came to speak with Nolan, but since the man isn't here, all his questions are directed to you

Can you even imagine you're like sitting there already suicidal and in comes Thragg asking why you aren't pregnant yet, like literally wanting actual fucking details about why you haven't bore a single child despite being with Nolan for a few years. I'm talking complete dehumanization as Thragg is asking you TO YOUR FACE how often you're having sex with Nolan, which positions, what do you do in bed, acting like you're doing something wrong. He asks what you do after mating and you just kind of start to reply and he sort of smirks, "you can still walk afterward?" And he seems grossly smug about it, but, this is a very threatening conversation to you. You have a man who could reduce you to paste at any moment and completely take away any luxury or privilege you and Nolan have and he's asking you extremely intimate questions you have to answer through ground teeth and at some point I'm sure he starts on about, "your duty as a woman"

Nolan comes home completely unaware that Thragg has been there and you're still sobbing on your hands and knees as you literally scrub the spotless floors by hand because Thragg told you what a submissive little servant you're expected to be as a lowly human woman and Nolan is trying to comfort you and your hands and fingers are literally pruning from cleaner as you keep crying and refuse to stop "because it's not good enough, it's not good enough"

At some point Nolan and Thragg get into it. Nolan is sent off on some mission that he very slightly underperformed on, or maybe he actually made a really huge tactical error, and here's Thragg, deciding to punish Nolan by. Taking you. Just straight up taking you away from Nolan like you're some kind of privilege he has been allowed and YEAH it is to be a servant/mate for Thragg himself. And Nolan makes a big fuss about how he's one of the ones who helped even conquer this damn rock, how dare the Grand Regent take his mate, but Thragg doesn't care and even if other Viltrumites who serve under him disagree, as you know he rules with such an iron fist that none dare to speak up

Can you even imagine you were with Nolan for like 5 years overall with never so much as a pregnancy scare and Thragg has you for like two months and boom, you're pregnant, in fact you're INSANELY pregnant, you've got TWINS, and for you noncomic readers, Viltrumite DNA is literally so aggressive that twins are literally quite literally unheard of because they cannibalize in the womb or only the strongest lives so, now you've presented Thragg with these nice shiny new little trophies he can self aggrandize over. The first Viltrumite twins in the entire history of their culture, and they're Thragg's

(Something something "what if thragg was having birth control put in your food so you wouldn't become pregnant by Nolan before he could manufacture an excuse to take you for himself" something something)

I also think like. Thragg had the twins in the comics, Ursaal and Onaan, so like. What if he already had the twins when you're taken from Nolan and you give him TRIPLETS. Like. Jesus not only is your fate sealed, you're going in the goddamn Viltrum history books as some sort of magical womb the oh so virile Grand Regent Thragg managed to conquer for himself idk 🙄🙄🙄

But I think it's just the concept of. Such a monstrously violent and cold dude realizing he has uncontrollable feelings for you and they're like FEELINGS FEELINGS, but he literally doesn't know how to act so he's being. Like. Kind of just blatantly shitty and abusive most of the time. You give him any lip and he's got his hands on your throat and threatening you but internally he's like. Turned on by your spice. He wishes you were a Viltrumite so he could be rougher with you. You two have a rare argument where you get those oh so rarely seen guts to talk down to him and later that night he's putting you in your place underneath him fucking you like he's trying to get another brood of children out of you

Think of just the little ways he could show affection which is completely foreign to him and he like doesn't even realize his own behavior and is rationalizing it as something else. He sees you talking to Ursaal one day, combing her hair, telling her that she could potentially consider cutting her hair as males tend to grab it as a battle tactic and he feels a little warmth in his chest as Ursaal dutifully nods "Yes Mother" and Onaan is lurking around the corner, jealous. Thragg forces you to make public appearances with him and you learn how to temper your emotions better, and you'll be brought along to school functions for the children, like Thragg smirking internally as you scold Onaan that he lost a scheduled fight because he's arrogant and wasn't properly paying attention to his opponents

You're forcibly assimilated deeper into Viltrumite culture, but you're also humanizing the Viltrumites you interact with. Ursaal and Onaan realize that they deeply desire more affection and support as children and become fiercely protective of you because you actually treat them with kindness. Thragg can act indifferent to you at best but one day you realize that you have significantly more privileges as his mate than Nolan's and you march off to Thragg's place of work because maybe the twins wanted you to see where they work with their father and you're brought into Thragg's office and he's as stonefaced as ever while you're like. Surrounded by photos of yourself just all over the place. The one on his desk directly in front of him isn't even one of you smiling, it's you scowling with a glare and looking pissed and apparently that one is his favorite. And Thragg is like not even bothered by you seeing all these photos, and his kids are just completely nonchalant like this is all totally normal, "oh, Father, you had a memorial photo made from where you and Mother visited my school, I like this one--" as if these uh collages have been up for quite some time, some maybe even taken from security cameras from your time with Nolan--

I just picture like. Can you imagine the triplet scenario and you wind up giving Thragg Mark, Ursaal, and Onaan, and you bond more with Mark as a late bloomer and the one who is the most human and his siblings are getting monstrously jealous and Thragg doesn't want his legacy tied to a weak powerless Viltrumite, like this man would rather have Mark be dead than not have powers, and Thragg is trying to force you and Mark apart. Can you even conceive like, being a mom and you walk into the room and your son is being absolutely brutalized by his father who is convinced he is hiding his powers or something and you have to shield your own son from his father before he kills him. Could you EVEN IMAGINE Thragg going to throw Mark off of whatever cyberpunk skyscraper nightmare you're living in because he's convinced the panic will make his boy finally learn how to fly and you have to watch as he just drops your (favorite) child off the building and Mark ... never comes back up. Thragg just sees how absolutely devastated you are and convinces himself it's because you're emotional and weak and just casually, "we can make another" (although I imagine in this scenario Mark was saved by Nolan and the two train and eventually basically spearhead a rebellion against Thragg and his empire and rescue you and restore Earth, but, whatever lmao)

I feel like as a general thing, yandere Thragg would often indulge in and enjoy the fact you couldn't deny him sex, because even if you try to deny him, what are you gonna do, overpower him? So he uses it to assert control over you. You snap at him or mouth off, you're getting railed that night to remind you how powerless you are, that you're still his mate. You two have a nasty fight where you legitimately manage to wound his pride, you're getting fucked near unconscious and you're essentially "grounded" for the next few days if not weeks where you aren't allowed to leave your home (maaaaybe because you've managed to make him insecure that his little mate doesn't like him 👉👈 he can't have anyone else steal you away, not when you're making him feel all these powerful emotions he doesn't even know what to call)

You're not even aware of it but the surveillance systems in your home are being CONSTANTLY tuned into all the time, if not by him, then by his own children who are tasked with watching you. I also feel like having the kids on the mix kind of makes everything kind of grotesque. Like imagine you just wake up and you're going by your business one day and you walk into the room and Thragg has your like 5 year old toddlers gathered around a table with knives and weapons on it and you hear little Mark say, "all these things can hurt Mom?" "They can" "even though they're so soft?" "Only to Viltrumites like us" "Mother is really that... weak?" And you realize Thragg is turning your own children into weapons to use against you, watch you, report back to him, because... your kids aren't like you. They're Viltrumites like him and he'll be damned if you make them 'too soft'

But I imagine a day comes when he's forced to at least semi-confront these feelings. Ursaal and Onaan are dedicated little soldiers to him, but also seem to respect your authority as their mother, something Thragg also sometimes encourages (since your "rank" as their mother earns a certain degree of respect and he's trying to teach them to respect the chain of command, even if you are a soft human). Ursaal and Onaan take a mission to another planet with their father and they return and Onaan has a gift for you, an alien flower he thought you might like, something he took without telling his father, but. He doesn't realize there's something wrong with it, something that wouldnt bother a Viltrumite but would definitely harm a human. The second you touch the plant, the second some of its pollen touches your akin, enters your lungs, you start becoming ill, very, very, very ill.

Thragg is trying to tell himself you're just another mate to him, just another bearer of his many many many children that he has no emotional attachments to, but the second he receives word that you might ACTUALLY BE DYING like genuinely actually fucking dying, there's no hesitation. The next time you open your eyes, you're in a Viltrum-run hospital in a lavish sanitized room receiving ONLY the best of care as Thragg is sitting in a chair beside your bed staring directly at you as if he had been staring at your unconscious body perhaps the entire time you were asleep. There's almost a visible relaxation of his posture as you're able to hold a conversation with him, but, his voice is, lowered but firm as he tells you you have yet to fully recover, that you're in isolation to reduce the risk of foreign pathogens. He feels the need to tell you in detail how severely Onaan was beaten for almost costing you your life, almost as if he's seeking your approval, some sort of forgiveness. You ask him how long he's been sitting there and he just deflects and tells you you're still too weak to hold a conversation and to conserve your strength, that the two of you can speak later.

Once you've recovered, it doesn't even seem like he's that interested in sex anymore, but the notoriously sturdy Viltrumite is suddenly returning home much more often now, if only to hold you as you sleep in the marital bed you share with him....

I guess as one final, final suggestion, I can't get over like. Is there an upper limit on the whole "oh you had Viltrum DNA but it just didn't kick in yet" thing. Could you imagine like, once the Viltrum invasion has begun and you're "acquired" for either Nolan or Thragg or whomever, you're scanned or whatever by Viltrum tech and they're like "oh hey what up, Viltrumite DNA detected? Dope?" And maybe it could even be "weak" like from a grandparent or something but, it inevitably "kicks in" and now you have to confront all the new caveats this brings with you. You're expected to live as a Viltrumite now. Maybe Thragg seems to find you a little less pathetic and personally wants to train you himself because he doesn't want the most publicly visible and famous of his mates to be weak. Also just maybe he's glad he can have rougher sex with you. I can just imagine he's forcing you two to have some sort of spar amd you have some sort of natural aptitude or higher than average strength and you wind up really giving him at least ONE really good fucking punch to the face and he's wrestling you down, pinning you down and forcing a kiss onto you as the blood from his broken nose drips onto both of your faces, like

Yeah, anyways I have normal feelings about this series tee hee 😘

[taesanluv3r]

kim woonhak x reader

wc: 1,738

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"what you starin' at?"

taesan's voice takes woonhak out of his trance, the boys head shaking almost comically as if to bring himself back into reality. "huh?" he says, eyes moving to look at the older guy who had taken a seat beside him on the living-room couch. "i said, what are you...staring at?" taesan's words stretch out as he finds himself looking through the younger one's perspective in search of what the boy had been looking at before.

"oh" is all he says when his gaze finally lands on her. park yn, their best-friend sungho's little sister, sitting on the other side of her family living-room laughing about something stupid her older brother had just said. "yn, huh?" taesan almost chuckles too loud, turning to look at a rather lovesick woonhak who just shamelessly nods. "so...you like her or something?" the older boy relaxes into his seat as he inquires, slender fingers simultaneously brushing out the pieces of hair that fell over his forehead. once again, woonhak just nods, not even realizing he's doing so. "but i don't really know what to do about it...she probably doesn't even like me like that" in a matter of seconds the young boy's face had gone from in-love to somber, as if his life was some terrible soap opera he'd catch his mom watching while sneaking down to grab a late night snack. taesan laughs out loud this time, ignoring the puzzled glances from the other people in the room with them as he looked his love-torn friend straight in the eye.

"let me help you out"

the kim boy is hesitant, but he figured he'd need all the help he could get anyways. "okay fine. but whatever you do, just don't tell her i like her, please?" there's a glint in his eyes, as if he were begging for his friend to show a little mercy. the other guy smirks, "of course, bro. when have i ever done you dirty like that?" the answer is countless of times, but woonhak chose to forget about his friend's menacing ways for the sake of maybe- emphasis on maybe- being with the only girl in the neighbourhood that he likes.

and so he watches nervously as the older boy gets up from the couch to walk over to where she was. he pretends to be nonchalant, telling himself it was all going to be okay, but quite frankly, he was shitting his pants right now. but what could go wrong, right?

"hey yn, guess what woonhak told me!" - "what?"

that. that's what could go wrong.

in hindsight it really wasn't that big of a deal, but in the moment he felt like the whole world had just crash landed onto his shoulders. if he wasn't shitting his pants before, he definitely is now. see, the normal person would remain calm and collected, not wanting to draw any attention to a matter that could be played off as something usual. however, the short-tempered teen boy was only a second away from exploding and in T-minus 10 seconds he had already began his outburst.

"what?! dude i told you not to say anything!"

the girl is confused, not understanding why the boy was freaking out or why taesan was minutes away from rolling on the floor laughing. "what? what is it?" yn repeated, even looking towards her older brother sungho in search for any kind of an answer, but he was just as lost as she is. "it's nothing" woonhak stutters a bit, "just forget about it" he slumps back down, the world's iciest glare emitting from his wicked eyes burning an imaginary hole right through taesan's forehead. yn groans, rolling her eyes as she stomps over to where the young boy was sitting, and arms crossed she began to plead. "please~ you know i hate- emphasis on hate- when people tell me something and then don't finish telling me! c'mon woonhak!" she whined, a pout washing over her complexion when he only shook his head in response. "i told you, it's nothing. forget about it!" she stared at him for a little longer, just enough to make sure he wasn't going to budge. "fine then!" she clicked her tongue as she spun on her heels, walking back over to sit beside taesan again.

the lovesick one watched from across the room as she pulled out her phone and began to type something. yn then tapped onto the shoulder of the guy sitting next to her, grabbing his attention and showing him whatever it was she had typed out. suspicious woonhak thought, but he decided to just be quiet for a minute before throwing another tantrum. the teen's eyebrows furrowed slightly when taesan began to whisper something into her ear, the older boy's eyes turned to look directly at him, as if to taunt the boy. almost comically, the girl's facial expressions changed every few seconds, first her eyes got wide, then she too stared right at the poor boy, and then finally, after his friend had finished whispering into her ear, she gasps all too loudly.

"seriously?!" the girl practically yelps, jumping up from her seat to add onto the dramatics. taesan just nods, his face so serious that woonhak can't tell whether he was teasing or not. yn looks shocked, but there's something off about the situation that the boy just can't pin-point. but with the way they're looking at him, almost tauntingly, it's making his blood boil and he just can't sit still anymore.

"ALRIGHT FINE! i like you, okay?!"

its quiet now. the only sounds keeping the room alive was that of sungho's solo mario kart game, and the pitter patter of the drizzling rain outside the walls of the house. yn has on the world's most blank expression on her face, as if she had just watched a swordsman take out her whole family bloodline. and that's when the teen boy realized that maybe his friend kept his promise, maybe he's the one that messed up.

"you WHAT?" sungho breaks the silence, putting down his controller as his little mii character makes it passed the finish line. "is that not what taesan whispered to you?" woonhak's voice is jittery now, like he was about to lie his way out of this awkward situation. "dude i didn't even tell her anything, i just told her what facial expressions to make just to tick you off- i'm not THAT terrible" taesan couldn't help but giggle a little, something about the look on the poor teen's face was just priceless. "oh god" was all he said before he took off, running out the front door in a matter of seconds.

yn is still in shock, drowning out the teasing laughs coming from her big brother and their friend. "what're you gonna do about it, sis?" sungho asks, tossing a spare controller over to the other guy.

"i'm gonna kiss him"

woonhak is pissed, he wanted to run off the face of the earth but the growing heavy rain had stopped him from even reaching the end of her front porch. he lets out a groan, cussing himself out as he took a seat right on the doorstep next to a creepy garden gnome. the sound of the door creaking open tensed his body up, not really wanting to face the truth however, the boy kept his head down against his knees. still not looking, he felt a presence and a familiar warmth greet the empty spot of concrete beside him and a shadow hovering over the ground below them.

"hey" she said, just in case he hadn't figured out who it was. the boy didn't respond, far too into his head and still way too embarrassed from the events that occurred prior to this to even acknowledge her. yn sighed, "hello? woonhak, you there?" growing impatient, she began to tap a finger against his back, but he just shrugged it off.

"leave me alone i'm too embarrassed to even look at you right now" he mumbles, his words muffled against the corduroy of his thrifted pants. the girl smiles softly, a light giggle escaping her lips as she watches him trying his best not to give in and look. "listen, i'd love to leave you alone and let you bask in your teen angst or whatever..." she drags out, perhaps to entice a bit of curiosity from the mellow boy.

"but how am i supposed to tell you i like you and kiss you if you won't even look at me right now?"

the way he sprung his head out so quickly, and the way his face read just about the most bewildered expression almost gave the girl a heart-attack, seriously how can a teenage boy be so cute? woonhak's eyes widen, so as to ask her if she was being serious and not pranking him right now. she just laughed, her eyes closing down into crescent shapes as she did so. "so like...you like...like? me? too?" forgive him for his tone of voice, the poor boy still felt like he was dreaming and all the sudden changes in emotion are very overwhelming. "yeah...i like..do?" she mocks, teasing him in a way that he couldn't even get upset at anymore.

his previous frustration long gone, and just about the brightest set of eyes washed over his complexion. she mirrored this, a slight sparkle in her own pretty ones as the teen pair just sat there staring at each other like they'd never see each other again.

"so..." he says, ruining the moment of peace. "hm?" she asks, head tilting and eyebrow raising slightly in question. "about that whole you kissing me thing..." his words only causes the girl to roll her eyes as far back as she possibly could, scoffing jokingly as she did so. "you're insufferable" yn says, shifting her weight off of her arms to place her hands on either side of his gleeful face. "and you're pretty" the last thing he said before pulling her in close, carefully so that he didn't hurt her, but just as eagerly to press his lips against her own.

-

"so...you think they're like...together now?" sungho asked, watching in disgust from the living-room window as his little sister swapped spit with his friend. "i mean...i guess so..." taesan replies slowly, just as grossed out from the sight. "ugh" they said in unison.

the end.

my first bnd fic 🙇‍♀️ sorry for spelling mistakes n stuff :3 wld rlly appreciate reblogs n such yay ty love u bye

[embrosegraves]

𝔹𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕕 ℕ𝕖𝕨

(request) Mark Webber x Fem!Reader The very beginning of a brand new relationship

Warnings: None :D it's really short tho

For as long as you remember, you’ve always been a cuddly person. When you were younger people would say it was just separation anxiety because you were never very far away from your parents. But as you grew older more people seemed to understand that it was just your way to show the people around you that you loved them. However just because you were cuddle-prone didn’t mean that everyone you loved was as well. So you had scoured through books, magazines and the internet to find ways to show your love for people. 

When you first met Mark, you could tell almost instantly that he was really a hugger. Which did bum you at first, but you quickly began to love getting a fist bump or a high five when you saw him around the paddock. You thought they were extra special whenever Mark would do really well during a race. It was like your own little celebration, even if he did the same thing with his mechanics and engineers. You didn’t care, truly, because you still felt special enough to be included and that’s what mattered to you. 

You almost lost your mind when you had gone to shake his hand one morning. Instead of grabbing and shaking your hand like you had expected him to, Mark had grabbed your forearm and had begun speaking to you about making plans after the race weekend. Almost instantly you had also grasped his forearm, your hand comically smaller than his arm, and agreed to whatever plans he had just made for the two of you. He gave you a smile, patted your shoulder with his free hand and continued on walking.

You had spent the rest of your day thinking about the interaction. It wasn’t until you had gotten back to the hotel your team was in that you realised he had organised for the two of you to go for dinner. You felt a little silly that it had taken you so long to register what he had actually said to you, especially considering it had been the only thing you thought of all day. Sitting on the bed of your hotel room, you thought really hard about the actual words he had said to you. 

“I know this is probably a long shot, but I’d really like to take you to dinner Monday night.” 

He was confident, trying to hide how nervous he was. Looking back, you noticed that his usually cocky smile had looked much softer. Almost timid.

“I’d love to.” 

Thinking of how you had responded, you grew embarrassed. You had probably looked so dazed. You wouldn’t be surprised if your eyes had been glazed over. He had asked you to dinner on Monday, which gave you an entire race weekend to prepare yourself. 

It was both fortunate and unfortunate that the weekend seemed to go by so quickly. It was soon time for the race, which meant that your date was the next day. You had decided early on that you would continue as normal. Greeting everyone, including Mark, as you usually would. Fist bumps, high fives and hugs made their way around the garage as everyone prepared for the Australian Grand Prix. 

The drivers had gotten into the cars and were waiting to be rolled out to the grid. You made sure to go to Mark in his car and give a fist bump and good luck before the car got rolled away. His visor was still up, so you had gotten to see his face scrunch in a smile when you wished him luck. Everyone was excited for Mark this race, being on his home turf and all. 

Once the race began, it didn’t take long for the happy and hopeful mood in the garage to basically disappear. The race had been going relatively well for Mark, a few mistakes here and there but nothing that would drastically change his race outcome. Until of course, Lewis Hamilton’s Mercedes clipped Mark’s rear tyre causing him to spin out and retire onto the gravel. The safety car came out, the stewards ruled it a racing incident, and Mark was brought back to the pit lane in the marshall’s car. 

When Mark got back to the garage, he was brought straight to a debrief before finally leaving to his driver’s room. You had followed him to his room and quietly entered behind him. He hadn’t even acknowledged that you were in the room until he had sat on the small sofa and you had walked over to him. You knew  that he normally wasn’t a hugger, but you felt like the circumstances called for one so you gently wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders and gave him a gentle squeeze. 

“What are you doing?” He asked, slightly bewildered. 

“I’m giving you affection. You need it.” If you were honest, a small part of you expected him to remove himself from your embrace. 

“Disgusting-” He paused, it seemed like he was contemplating the hug, before finally, “Do it more.” 

This made you laugh a bit, but you complied nonetheless. You squeezed him again and this time you also placed a kiss on the top of his head. When you felt his arms reach up and wrap around you, you spoke. 

“You better get used to me giving you affection if we’re going to dinner tomorrow.” 

“I think I can do that.” He laughed. 

You laughed as well. “Good. Because you won’t be able to escape it.”

I like this one a lot and I feel kinda bad that it was sitting in my drafts for so long

So here it is!

likes, replies and reblogs are always appreciated <3

[astermath]

hey! could I get some hc’s for the series of Dave and the popular girl? swf and nsfw if possible. TYSM!!!💗

omg yes absolutely! so glad you asked, I really love writing for these two <333 don’t know if you wanted nsfw headcanons too but i kept it to just sfw ones for now, hope you enjoy!

would love to hear you guys’ thoughts and headcanons about these two as well :3

“so? whatever.” dave lizewski x popular!fem!reader: landing page.

♡ even though your family is way wealthier than dave's, he still buys you gifts. flowers, your favourite snacks, those earrings you were gushing to him about. yes, you could easily buy them for yourself, but that doesn't matter to him.

♡ you make up for it to him by buying him expensive, rare, limited edition comic books.

♡ one time he cried because of how happy he was when you got him a special spiderman comic. you happily sat on his lap while he explained his favourite parts about it after.

♡ you know that meme that’s like “he asked for no pickles on his hamburger”? yeah. that’s you two. he may be tall, muscly and your city’s most popular vigilante, but he’s also dave. and dave is still getting used to sticking up for himself.

♡ it doesn’t make it any better that your brothers friends still mess with him sometimes. so, you’ve had to set the record straight to them a few times. cussing them out, threatening to beat their asses, or just pulling in your boyfriend for a deep kiss to really drive the point home.

♡ dave does the same thing when todd or marty make a comment about you being a bimbo, or a mean girl, neither of which are true. and he makes sure to remind them that the only reason they’re not getting shoved into lockers anymore is also because of you.

♡ surprisingly, your dad has taken a serious liking to your boyfriend too. he was skeptical of him at first, thinking he was some pervert trying to get into his daughter’s pants, but he sees that not only is dave is smart, he really, really loves you.

♡ and either way, he could never deny his little girl of anything. even if it is loving the biggest dork he’s ever seen.

♡ when you go shopping, he always carries your bags. all of them. not like it’s hard for him, with those beefy arms.

♡ he also loves it when you give him a little fashion show showing everything that you bought. then again, he’d think you’re beautiful even if you were wearing a trash bag.

♡ he always loves to watch you get ready. you think he’s not paying attention, reading a comic or scrolling on his phone, but he’s watching your reflection in your vanity mirror out of the corner of his eye. smiling at the way you look so concentrated when doing your eyeliner, or how cute the pout of your lips is when you apply your lipgloss.

♡ WILL sing along with whatever pop song you put on. taylor swift, ariana grande, olivia rodrigo, he’s humming along at first and suddenly you realise. he knows all the words. and he’s just fully singing along with you because he knows you love those songs.

♡ dave is not much of a gossiper himself, but he will always hear you out when you have some juicy tea to spill. like no way, jessica really said that? god, she would have the nerve, no wonder her boyfriend cheated on her— you giggle, it’s a funny sight, seeing your nerdy sweet boyfriend get so into the drama of it all.

♡ he’s really happy and really grateful that in the end, he’s never a secret for you. you’re very happy to have him as your boyfriend, and you’re not afraid to let the world know. anyone who has a problem with that would have to deal with your sharp tongue and biting remarks.

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