#the rest loses it's charm with translation.....

[drenched-in-sunlight]

i checked the JP description of Malenia set & in the “[Miquella] possesses the wisdom, the allure, of a God” line, the word they use for “allure” is 「誘惑」

It can also be translated as “seduction”.

It’s the same word used in the DLC trailer for “seduction and betrayal” part.

Tbh, I have no crazy revelation on this. I were just thinking “why Malenia did not factor in “kindness” as a quality for a God to have when she described Miquella— oh shit which word did they use for “allure”.”

Somehow I knew it’d be the same word before I even looked up the rest

For me at least, “seduction and betrayal” has always been a general theme of what Godhood will entail.

The Fingers promised Marika power to avenge her kins & betrayed her by locking her into a cage of divinity (that brought her and her future family nothing but misery in the end), Marika accepted to be a vessel but at the same time tasked Hewg to make a weapon to slay a God (so she was always going to rebel against them), Radagon charmed Rennala then left her a husk of her former self, Miquella was seduced by the naive belief that Godhood would be the answer to all the problems but got betrayed by that ideal as it made him lose himself, Miquella charmed others and some of them felt betrayed when the charm was broken.

It’s a theme.

So this is not exactly news to me, but I think it’d be interesting to point that out.

(Like, if I’m to list out more: Ranni linked up with the Black Knives but later imprisoned Alecto when the deed is done, if you attack Fia before getting the mending rune, Godwyn’s body would attack you to protect her, but once the rune is finished (aka Godwyn achieved second life as Lord of Death), she could be murdered by D’s brother… & Fia was obviously infatuated with Godwyn.

If you write “seduction & betrayal” and draw a bunch of arrows from it… it’s pretty much in every demigod subplots. It depends on how one interpret certain events, yeah, but still.

Also: Rennala bewitching the Academy making them believe the Moon was equal to the Stars, the Fell God letting the Fire Giants borrow their power but curse them to tend to the flame for eternity, Bayle vs Placidussax, like… those whole other cans of lore worm?? Need I say more??)

[icantdothistodaybruh]

some silly doodles to take my mind off of things🕊

ref

[slytherinslut0]

Theodore Nott. | that’s what i said.

info: your boyfriend was telling you about his day, when he began speaking fluent Italian, knowing damn well you only knew select words. when you asked him to repeat it, he had you come sit on his lap and ended up doing a little more than just repeating it.

word count: 3k

tags: 18+, literally pure smut. pure lorenzo italian daddy type smut. lots of italian translation (apologies to all my italians out there if they’re a little off) lots of praise, riding, piv, dirty talk.

Reclining across from you, Theodore Nott your lovely boyfriend, exuded an air of relaxed confidence while seated comfortably on the expansive leather couch in his dorm room. His legs were stretched wide, one arm casually draped over the armrest--each of his current mannerisms acting as physical testaments to the ease with which he inhabited the space.

As he delved into the narrative of his day, you, nestled in the love seat opposite him, eagerly absorbed the symphony of his voice. It was a melody that effortlessly traversed between English and Italian, a linguistic dance that had always held a special place in your heart.

His words held an irresistible charm, each syllable cascading like liquid honey off his tongue. The profound rasp of his voice, entwined with his seductive Italian accent stirred something indescribable within your body. The prospect of listening to him like this every day for the rest of your life fueled your anticipation, a certainty that the allure would never lose its magic. It was a sensation you eagerly anticipated, knowing that the richness of his voice would forever remain a timeless delight.

Yet, within the fluidity of his storytelling, Theodore suddenly shifted into Italian, weaving complete sentences with a gaze that lingered through half-lidded eyes, as if this linguistic transformation were the most natural thing in the world. Ordinarily, you might have interrupted him, gently reminding him of your language limitations, but today, well, you just couldn't bring yourself to do so.

You were almost in awe, unable to deny that there was an enchanting quality to the way the words curled off his tongue. That, coupled with the intensity of his stare, seemingly compelled you to stay silent, as if under a trance. You found yourself captivated, clinging to every indecipherable syllable, a familiar heat beginning to kindle between your thighs.

It was as if he momentarily lost himself in the labyrinth of his thoughts, forgetting, if only for an instant, that your understanding of the language was confined solely to select phrases and words. This linguistic detour left you with a quizzical frown, a silent plea for translation in the midst of his enchanting monologue, and finally, noting your confusion after what felt like ages, he paused, cocking a charming eyebrow at you.

"Something on your mind, Bella?" he teased, leisurely spreading his legs further as his gaze meandered from your eyes to your lips, only to return, locking onto your gaze once more. "You appear a touch...lost."

"Theo, I must confess--I haven't the slightest idea what you just said," you admitted, a playful pout gracing your lips. Your eyes sparkled with a blend of curiosity and mischief. "And I know you're well aware that was far beyond my linguistic expertise."

"All this time, and you still haven't mastered my language, Bella Mia..." Theo, with a dramatic flair, feigned a hurt expression, his stormy eyes widening ever so slightly. "You're truly breaking my heart."

Smirking, you teased, "forgive me, amore..."  your fingers traced an absent pattern on the armrest, a subtle invitation. "Please, feel free to repeat it--I love the way it sounds..."

A mischievous glint sparked behind his irises, a playful confidence dancing in their depths. With a self-assured grin, he patted his lap invitingly, his messy brown locks falling effortlessly over his forehead.

"Why don't you come over here," he suggested, his tone velvety, "and I'll gladly repeat it for you?"

Your grin widened, a flicker of anticipation igniting within you as you slowly rose from the chair, not needing a second thought. His burning stare followed your every move as you veered closer to him, an intensity in his eyes that set your senses ablaze without effort. As you approached, a slow, deliberate stride, the air thickened with a tangible tension, your pulse thumping in your throat.

No matter the duration of your relationship with Theo, each touch remained an electric encounter, perpetually reminiscent of the initial spark. His reverence for your body endured, a devotion that unfolded afresh with every caress, as if every moment were a new discovery for his hands and eyes.

Stalling in front of him, you giddily pulled your lip between your teeth as his hands found yours, guiding them to his shoulders as he pulled you down to straddle his lap. The warmth of his embrace enveloped you, his hands finding a natural place on your hips.

"Mm," he purred, burying his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling a sharp breath as his fingers dug into your skin. "So beautiful, Bella..."

You stifled a mewl as he pressed careless kisses along your neck, the playful banter giving way to a charged silence as his teeth softly grazed your pulse--the unspoken language between you both pulsating with desire and connection. The messy brown waves of his hair framed a face now tinged with a sultry charm, and the mischievous glint in his eyes promised a shared secret in the language only you two understood.

As if completely instinctively, you rolled your hips against his crotch, head falling back as his hands slid around to your ass, groaning against your neck as he aided your movements, guiding you back and forth against his growing bulge. You could already feel him throbbing beneath you, your cunt clenching in need for his touch as the only thing separating your heat from his groin was your thin layer of underwear, rubbing against his trousers.

"Ho voluto scoparti tutto il giorno..." he murmured, the same phrase he'd said earlier, the one in which you didn't understand. "...sei tutto ciò a cui riesco a pensare."

Your brows furrowed, about to question him, but exasperation quickly took over as he sank his teeth into your neck. He left vivid, possessive marks on your skin, his hands sliding up and under your skirt, tracing the supple contours of your ass. As you continued to move against him, a whirlwind of desire engulfed you, and you quickly lost yourself in the intoxicating rush.

"You're so fucking sexy," he breathed, his voice a low, deep murmur, reverberating a shudder of desire down your spine, his tongue trailing a flat stripe up the side of your throat. "Ho bisogno di te, mia bellissima piccola troia." (I need you, my beautiful little slut.)

"Theo..." you whimpered, your hands entwining in his hair, fingers weaving through his tousled auburn locks. His mouth ascended, planting tender, moist kisses along the ridge of your jawline. "Please-please-"

"Mm, you like that don't you, principessa?" His voice was a seductive purr, the words wrapping around you like silk as he pulled back a hand and gave you a sharp smack on your ass, eliciting an immediate squeal from your throat. "Tu ami grinding that dolce piccola figa on me like this, hm?..." (you love)(sweet little pussy)

In response to his words, an unabashed moan escaped your lips, louder than you had initially intended. Theo responded with a low growl, his free hand moving to your jaw, cradling it delicately as he guided your lips to his. The ensuing kiss spoke a language of its own--one of desire, need, and an unfiltered passion that surpassed any linguistic expression.

Your hold on his hair intensified as you pressed against him more urgently, the rhythm quickening. His tongue boldly slipped past your teeth, exploring your mouth with fervor. Simultaneously, his hands glided to the hem of your blouse, lifting it along your stomach. The kiss briefly broke as he encouraged your arms upward, swiftly pulling your shirt over your head and discarding it on the floor.

"Così bella..." he praised, his eyes fixated on your chest adorned by the delicate, lacy fabric of your white bralette. The intensity in his gaze felt scorching, as if it could sear your skin to ash. "Così, così bella, amore mio..." (So beautiful)(so, so beautiful, my love...)

His words took your breath away, slamming your chest like a fifty pound brick, the worship in his tone enough to render you speechless. You writhed in his lap, seeking friction, more friction that what you were currently experiencing--wanting him; needing him in every possible way. You captured his lips again, rolling your hips harder, the deep moan that escaped him found itself muffled by your mouth as you worked at the buttons on his shirt, fervently popping them free as quickly as you could.

The second his chest was exposed, you scoured it like a starved animal, the skin-on-skin contact sending a desperate clench to your cunt. You mapped his muscles to your memory as though it was the first time you'd ever seen them--the strength of his biceps, his strong, powerful abdomen, all of it hot and vibrating with need--you were breathless at the sight of his beauty under your palms, a feeling that had never once even partially faltered, no matter how many times you fucked him.

"Are you going to tell me what you said, Teddy..." you murmured, a playful smile dancing on your lips as your fingers skillfully moved to his belt, assisting in its release. "That was the whole reason I came over here, was it not?"

"Words can wait, amore," Theo muttered, his voice husky with desire, his gaze locked onto yours as he undid the zipper on your skirt, watching with blaring eyes as you tugged it off, along with your panties and tossed them to the floor. "Actions speak louder, don't they?"

"Mmfh," you moaned as he pulled you back against his mouth, his tongue running along your teeth as your bodies rocked together, his fingers gripping and caressing and squeezing every bit of your body that they could.

Pulling away, he met your eyes, heavily panting for breath as he gazed at you with a hunger that matched your own. His hands shifted, urging you to back up for a moment as he pulled his pants and boxers midway down his thighs--growling low in his chest as his thick, throbbing length sprung free, glistening with precum as it smacked against his chiseled stomach. You clenched.

He pulled you back against him, gliding you in slicking your soaked cunt along the length of his cock, his eyes burning wounds into your flesh as he watched you, lost in pleasure, lost in your need for him.

"Lo vuoi, amore mio?" (You want it, my love?) His voice barely rose above a whisper as he posed the question to which he damn well knew the answer. "You want this fucking cock inside that pretty little cunt?"

You shuddered, clenching hard in anticipation, nodding as you leaned closer, grazing your lips against his, panting heavily into his mouth.

"I want to hear you say it," he growled, one hand sliding up beyond your shoulders to grip the back of your neck, locking your gaze onto his. "Beg me to fuck you."

Your nails dug into his shoulders, entire body vibrating. "Please-Theo, please fuck me..."

"No, no," he playfully clucked his tongue, delivering a sharp smack to your ass with his free hand. You instinctively clenched again, the sensation electrifying. "In Italian."

"Gods," you groaned, his ceaseless teasing consistently pushing you to the brink of physical exhilaration in all the most delightful ways. Fortunately, this was a phrase he had taught you from the very beginning, a linguistic lesson that lingered since day one. "Per favore-per favore...ho bisogno di te..." (please-please…I need you.)

He exhaled, grunting. "Good girl."

It was a combined effort--he fisted his length, angling it at your core, your hands clutching his shoulders as you sank onto him, his thick girth stretching you wide with ease. You both collectively groaned, your walls pulsing and clenching around him as you took a second to adjust to his length, before rocking your hips in a slow, erotic rhythm; working yourself open on his cock.

Theo's eyes were glued to yours, watching your every movement as though he was afraid he'd miss something if he looked away. With a grunt, his big hands found your tits, palming and groping at the soft flesh with primal urgency, brushing his thumbs against your nipples, teasing them with soft circles. Your eyes rolled, your head falling back on your shoulders as you increased your pace, soft moans slipping past your lips.

"Esatto, piccola angioletta...così perfetta..." (That's right, little angel... so perfect) he murmured, his voice low, torn with husk. "You're so goddamn tight...squeezing me so good...così buono."

"Gods, Theo..." you whimpered, relishing in how deep he was, how big. "You're so fucking big."

Your boyfriend's hands shifted again, finding your hips, sharp fingernails digging into your skin as he thrust upward to match your movements, his cock hitting all the right spots. Your own fingers burrowed into his shoulders while you throbbed around him, lungs desperate for air, and he snarled, increasing his movements, setting a brutal pace that you couldn't match.

Cries fled you, pushed from your lungs by the carnal force of his hips, and Theodore consumed you--lips sucking at your neck, hands bearing bruises into your ass. His dick stretched you wide, fucked you deep, wracking your body with its punishment, breasts bouncing, his breath coming in ragged gasps against your skin.

You tilted your head back, his fervent mouth tracing down to your collarbone, claiming his territory across as much of your skin as possible. His cock pumped into you, beckoning an orgasm from the bottom of your brain--and as if sensing your clit screaming for attention, his hand snaked between your legs, fingers smoothly gliding over it. In response, you squealed, digging your nails into his shoulders with enough force to shatter the skin, body awash with pleasure.

"That's it, amore..." he groaned, breathless, teeth nipping at your earlobe, free hand gripping your ass with enough force to batter the skin. "Ride me like the good little whore you are."

"Fuck-fuck yes," you cried, your hips moving faster, chasing your orgasm as Theo's fingers rubbed tighter circles against your clit, increasing their relentless pursuit in bringing you over the edge. "Don't stop, Theo-fuck, please don't stop..."

"I won't, my love," he murmured, lips pressed against your ear, breathing the words into your eardrums. "Wouldn't fucking dream of it."

Theo's fingers worked magic on your clit as he thrust up into your cunt faster, harder--his cock hitting your g-spot with each aggressive movement. You could feel the pressure building inside your core, your body coiling like a tightly wound spring as he worked you closer and closer to the edge.

"Theo-" you gasped, your voice practically a scream. "I'm going to-I'm going-"

"Going to what, principessa...hm?" He implored, his voice a low, husky whisper escaping through his teeth; your entire essence pulsating, trembling amid his passionate pursuit. "Verrai per me? That tight little pussy going to cum on my cock?"

You wailed, head falling back, chest swelling for air. "Yes!...Theo-please!"

"Fallo. Cum for me." He graced your ass with another harsh smack, placing wet, sloppy kisses against your jawline. "Let me feel you."

With only a few more strokes, you came undone, cunt clamping around his cock, your whole body shaking as your orgasm washed over your entirety, blazing through every nerve ending and every fucking cell. Theo's fingers continued to rub you through it, prolonging the pleasure until you were left gasping for breath, nothing more than babbling nonsensical moans and pleas leaving your lips in the aftermath of his wrath.

Theo grunted, finally peeling his hand off your clit once you were whimpering and squirming against him, gripping the back of your head and drawing your mouth to his, meeting your lips in a sloppy wet kiss, each of you sucking in sharp breaths through your nostrils as you continued to ride him, your walls tingling in post orgasmic rapture.

"Brava ragazza," he moaned into your mouth, his body shaking with the force of his impending release. "So fucking good, bambina."

His movements grew erratic, hips bucking hard as he struggled to hold off his own orgasm, the force of his pace bordering on violent. You gasped, squealed, held onto him for dear life as you rode him, attempting to match his pace, but he was possessed, starved, breaking the kiss to lean back, both hands gripping your hips, holding you steady.

"You want my cum, little slut? Hm?" He gritted out, forehead glistening with sweat, his pupils blown wide with lust. "You want me to fill up this tight little cunt?"

You gasped, nodding frantically. "Yes! Please-please!"

"fuck...I'm gonna cum..." his lids fluttered, dark eyebrows pinching in concentration, his face contorting into a scowl of effort. "Cristo-you feel così buono-shit.."

With a final thrust, he growled, groaned--his movements slowing, breath sputtering from his lungs as he exploded, pumping once, twice, three times--all before coming to a halt, cock twitching inside you as he drained his hot cum deep into your pussy. Sweat beaded each of your foreheads, bliss buzzing between your bodies as you kissed him softly, panting into his mouth as you each worked silently to come back down to earth, pulses pounding in ruthless rhythm.

Spent and fully sated, Theo cradled the back of your head, pulling you into him, his free arm snaking around your back. You wrapped your arms around his neck, keeping him inside you as you two stayed like that for a moment, relishing in the intimacy between your bodies as he softened, his lips placing tender kisses on your shoulder.

"Ho voluto scoparti tutto il giorno..." he murmured softly, a hint of amusement in his tone as he repeated the words he knew you had no idea of their meaning. "sei tutto ciò a cui riesco a pensare."

"Stop teasing me." You huffed, burying your face into the crook of his neck. "It's not very nice of you, Theo..."

He chuckled, a low hum from deep in his chest, smirking against your skin as he tightened his grip around you, brushing loose strands of hair behind your ear.

“I wanted to fuck you all day...” he murmured, lips brushing your temple. “You’re all I can think about..."

You pulled back, meeting his stormy eyes. "Is that-"

"Yes." He interrupted you with a gentle kiss, smiling against your lips. "That's what I said."

[wine-and-madness]

Thinking about the Bacchae, the translations and productions which treat it as a party right up til the end, where Dionysus so suddenly proves just how serious he's being

Thinking about the Hard Bard's production specifically, how he shouts, voice rough, full of rage, that they called his mother a whore

Thinking about how many productions make Pentheus an enjoyable character to watch, even if only because he's bumbling, and thinking how different a play it would be if he was genuinely gross (think if Trump were the politician)

Thinking about how what happens is SO very horrifying, how cruel and terrible it is, thinking about the moral questions and implications of it, how the gods are so nuanced and extreme

I really, really like these aspects of Dionysus. I adore that he, and the rest of the gods, are not wholesome constantly-positive angels. They are the divine, crude, base instincts and unremorseful natural disasters as much as they are kind, as much as they are sophisticated.

Dionysus is a god of duality but no god is without duality, it is inherent to and necessary for being a god.

Dionysus in the Bacchae is so, so kind. To those who have not wronged him. He is wonderful, he is charming, he is lovely and alluring and enticing. And he is also a god, one who should never be crossed, the roaring bull, the all-consuming madness.

Thinking about how everyone, everyone has a given condition which will allow them to lose themselves in pleasure and madness. Even if that condition is to destroy the facilitator of the experience. Thinking of how much Pentheus enjoys dressing as a mad woman. Thinking about how, even in his pleasurable madness, he is excited to destroy Dionysus. Thinking about whether that "justifies" Dionysus's detribution.

Thinking about how the play itself questions this, discusses it some. Thinking about Zeus indirectly condoning what happens.

Just..... Thinking about the Bacchae

[dark-frosted-heart]

Roger Barel Main Route - Chapter 15 His POV

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. I’m doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there.

It seemed like there could never be peace in this world.

Elbert: …

Roger: Yo, El. Have you seen the ‘lil lady around? I wanted to get her to do some work for me, but haven’t seen her for a while.

Elbert: Roger. Listen to me calmly.

It’s possible that Kate was kidnapped.

—In an instant, all sounds ceased.

Roger: Kate? What do you mean?

Ellis: What you just said, is it true…?

I turned around and saw Jude and Ellis who had just come back from work.

Jude: The princess got kidnapped? By who?

Elbert: I’m not sure. Earlier in the garden, a coachman came up to me looking terribly disturbed.

He said that he dropped Kate off not far from the cemetery, but no matter how long he waited, she never came back.

He went to go look for her, but only found Ale.

Here, he gave me this.

He handed me a piece of paper with “I’ll be back soon” written in Kate’s handwriting.

Ellis: Kate wanted to go leave flowers on the grave of the Cursed One who passed a few days ago.

She said she’d take a carriage and be back before sundown, so she’d be fine.

Jude: That’s Saint Cemetery. Got a road so narrow that carriages pass through.

Somethin’ must’ve the moment she got out.

Elbert: We don’t know what happened, but we can’t waste any time. What do we do, Roger?

If Kate never comes back.

If I never hear her voice or see her smile again, I…

Elbert: …Roger?

Elbert waved his hand in front of my face, bringing me back to reality.

Roger: …

Ellis: Roger, are you okay?

Roger: Yeah…sorry. Just…a little shaken.

Elbert and Ellis: …(°ロ°)

I was having some trouble processing my emotions, confused.

(I’ve had these feelings before, not once)

I took a deep breath to calm myself, eyes now focused.

Roger: This likely has something to do with the recent incidents.

Let’s tell Victor first and then gather the rest of Crown.

--

When news of Kate’s disappearance broke, all of Crown assembled.

It was determined that it was highly likely Kate was involved in the incidents targeting young people.

Based on where the victims had gone missing, possible bases were identified.We split into four teams and set out to search each location.

--

Paired up with Jude, I ran down to the basement to get my hunting rifle.

—But, when the spare bullets tumbled out of my hand, I realized that for the first time, I was still shaken up.

(...Damn it, I need to calm down)

Since joining Crown, I’ve gone through hell so many times.

I’ve witnessed many deaths.

Death wasn’t something I was afraid of. Since I’ve been surrounded by it, I’ve grown used to it.

…Still.

(I think I'm afraid of losing her)

(I think she’s the only one I can’t afford to lose)

(There’s a reason why only one person was an “exception”)

Suddenly, some notes on my desk caught my attention. They were notes that Kate would occasionally leave.

~~

—Roger, I’ve left some food for you. If you don’t eat properly, I’m going to scold you later!

—Roger, do you want to go on a walk together this evening? Come find me when you’re done with work.

Roger, Roger, Roger…

~~

I had always believed that romantic love didn’t exist in this world.

I thought that what people called romantic love was just a dysfunction of the brain or a misunderstanding caused by sexual desire.

However, I already knew why my emotions were in a disarray without rhyme or reason.

(Ah, so that’s it)

(Looks like the lil’ lady’s already taught me about romantic love after all)

(Does she feel the most special to me?)

“I won’t despair”——Those words that she threw out into the world drew me toward her.

“I want to be strong”——I was charmed by that earnest, hardworking gaze.

“I want you to like me”——I was hit with an ardent emotion that burned my heart.

(...Damn it, I’m not gonna let you get away after teaching me these annoying feelings)

I strapped my rifle to my back and pocketed the bullets. 

An unprecedented passion seethes in my chest.

Roger: …I’m coming for you. Wait for me, Kate. Don’t you dare die.

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

Masquerade of the Sinners

pairing: ???!Joshua x fallen angel fem!reader

genre: smut. minors dni.

warnings: praise, dirty talk, mentions of incubus powers, unprotected sex (stay safe), creampie, sub!reader, dom!shua, religious imagery and defilement (again), making out, manhandling, spanking, squirting, overstimulation, hair pulling, mentions of blood and murder

word count: ~1.4k

summary: keeping up the appearances to deceive humans is joshua's expertise. but you have become the perfect apprentice, the mask of innocence bearing no cracks for the humans to gaze upon.

Author's note: hello beloveds <3 had a sudden burst of inspo thanks to the shua pics from the latest fansign and decided to expand a little on Fall From Grace :)

taglist: @junkissed @shuadotcom @bitchlessdino @duhnova

©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2023. No reposting allowed. No translations without permission allowed.

Another Sunday, another successful preaching from the altar.

A few months ago, Joshua was gagging at the idea of faking the role of a young and kind priest, devoted to God and His words. 

But now? After exposing himself to you and defiling you in a way only his kin know best, his daily life has become way more interesting.

It’s as if the bells of Apocalypse have rung in the Heavens and the archangels decided to send horde after horde of angels to execute him. Yet every single attempt has proven futile, with the heavenly creatures ending up lifeless in a pile of blood and pearly white feathers or breathless and full of his seed.

What’s even more amusing to him is that none of the puny humans around him have caught wind of his true nature.

“Hm. How foolish.” He chuckles to himself as he closes the small Bible in his hands. He goes to the small room where he keeps his robes and the rest of the books he uses for various ceremonies and other church activities.

Speaking of activities, he still despises the choir sessions. The gospels echoing from the mouths of the choir members and bouncing off the walls of the church always give him a headache, to the point of nosebleeds.

However, seeing some of the girls attend the choir just to ogle at him and purposefully wait during after hours to talk to him in private or for…other matters makes the whole choir experience a little more tolerable.

“Aren’t you tired of fooling around with these human weaklings, Joshua?”

You stand against the closed gates, leaning your back on the heavy wood.

Joshua’s lips curl into a wicked smirk. “Good evening, my dear. What brings you here tonight?”

“You know fully well why I’m here, you demonic creature.” You walk towards the altar and reach in front of him.

“Ah, of course. You want revenge for losing your status, don’t you?”

“Not just that.” You grit your teeth.

“What else then?” He asks, feigning innocence.

You gulp audibly, shame washing over your body when you remember the first time you let him ravage you like prey caught in a trap. 

You lift your shirt and lower your pants just enough to show him the two incubus tattoos engraved on your lower pelvis - a small heart surrounded by thorns and a star underneath their junction, connecting to another, larger heart with horns protruding. 

Joshua licks his lower lip hungrily. “So that is what you’re talking about.”

“You need to remove this, now.” You demand with a steady voice.

“I’m afraid I cannot do this, sweetheart.” He glues his eyes on you, irises glowing red. “The marks of an incubus are permanent once placed upon another body.”

“Liar, you were the one who put those marks in the first place! You must know how to take them away!” You raise your voice at him.

“The only way to not have these marks is to withstand and push away the charms of an incubus, Y/N. And as far as I remember, you did nothing of the aforementioned.” 

You feel your body lighting up on fire all of a sudden, heat starting to pool in your panties. No, he can’t be right.

“That’s the Gaze. Once someone looks at you lustfully, your entire body is immediately aroused.” Joshua explains.

“M-Make it stop.” Your voice comes out weaker than it was supposed to.

“I can make it stop for a while. But are you sure you want me to, pretty angel?”

You barely manage to suppress a whimper before pulling Joshua’s body flush to yours, smashing your lips to his with a carnal fervor. 

The last time you experienced this type of fervor was when he exposed his true nature to you.

Joshua moans in your mouth and wraps his tongue around yours, his arms grabbing your waist to manhandle you towards the altar.

He breaks the kiss and pins you on the sacred place, tracing his fingers over the larger mark.

“The one below is Trigger. There are two phrases I can say to you, each one with different effects.”

“W-What phrases are they?” You ask meekly.

“I already used the first one, angel. It was just to make you a tad bit hornier. The other one will just seal the deal.” He takes off his robes and reveals his chiseled body, along with his demonic horns.

“Joshua, s-stop making me beg already!” You kick your legs at him, but he grabs them by your thighs and reaches for the hem of your pants, pulling them down until they are completely off your body.

“That will happen too, sweetheart. But I wanna have fun with you first.”

He turns you around and pushes your head down on the altar, running his hands over the curve of your ass.

“For a fallen angel, you have an ass that would make even a succubus jealous.” He spanks your ass twice and then runs his hands over your back, raising your shirt to expose the scars on your back, where your wings once existed.

“You have been so good at blending in with the humans here and attending church every Sunday like a good little lamb, listening to my preachings as if I was your God.”

You let out a loud moan as you clench around emptiness, wetness starting to drip down your thighs. Joshua rips them in half with his hands and takes out his cock, rubbing the tip between your folds.

“Shua, please, fuck me, please!” You grip the edge of the altar, begging for something inside you.

Joshua lets out a deep chuckle. “Can’t deny you when you beg so prettily.” 

He slams his cock inside you with one fluid thrust, your thighs shaking from feeling full in a split second.

“You’re taking me even better than last time, little angel. I’m impressed.” He leans his torso on your back, caging you between the cold surface and his body. “You are just so good at everything, aren’t you?”

“T-Thank you, thank you so m-much, Shua.” You answer between short sobs, body jerking forward with each thrust he delivers.

“It’s so rewarding to see you don the pretty mask of the kind newcomer who is so pure and innocent, as if you were the new guardian angel of this town.” He grips your hair and pulls it violently. “Only for me to crush it into millions of pieces every night on this damn altar, like I’ve done with your former brothers and sisters.”

Under different circumstances, you would have driven a blade of Empyrean steel through his skull, but the nearly mind-numbing pleasure has made you a pliant mess in Joshua’s hands.

And you consciously love it.

It could be the marks on your body, but ever since you fell from Heaven, you’ve been craving his touch, his gaze, his voice, his everything.

“There is something about you that makes me want to keep you for myself, away from any living being, be it human, angel or even demon.” He admits between pants, a clear signal of his impending orgasm. 

“S-Shua, I- n-”

“I know, angel, I know.” He pants and lets go of your hair to wrap his arms around your torso and lift it off the altar, flush to his chest.

“I’m cumming!” You scream on top of your lungs, voice echoing in the empty church as you reach your climax and squirt all over the altar. Joshua doesn’t stop pistoning his hips against your ass, overstimulating you on purpose.

“You look so hot when you make a mess in God’s house, little lamb.” He moans in your ear and cums inside you, painting your insides white with his load. His hand caresses the glowing womb tattoos, the red sheen matching the one emitting from his hellish eyes.

You turn your head around and kiss him, teeth and tongue messily clashing with each other.

“I c-cannot see God anymore.” You confess breathlessly.

Joshua gives you a sardonic smile as he slips out of you and rolls you on your back so you can face him in all of his glory, his cum staining your legs.

“Your God stands in front of you, little lamb.”

[ramp-it-up]

Sugar Sugar

Summary: You chose Bucky. But now he’s going 5000 miles away. And you were not consulted. Steve is right there and it’s his birthday. The competition isn’t over.

Word Count: 2.5K

Pairings: College grad Steve x Grad School Reader; College grad Bucky x Grad School Reader (Not Stucky); Various Marvel MCU Characters (in same age except for Stark) x Reader (platonic)

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Not Beta’d. Read at your own risk. Roommate au, S MUT! Lovers quarrel before action starts, angst, flirting, Tony being Tony, lowkey voyeurism, a lil bit of fluff. drinking, flirting, crushes, an unsanctioned birthday picnic, ‘borrowed’ champagne, birthday “kisses” 😏, oral s ex (f receiving), cheating (maybe. possibly)

A/N: This is a sequel to last year’s Sugar. I know! 😫 I hope you like it.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

You were sipping your blueberry tequila smash and staring moodily across the water. It was supposed to be a festive day and an even better night, but that insanely handsome and inconsiderate roommate/boyfriend of yours ruined it all.

Or rather, you ruined it, thinking that you would be any different than any of the other girls he’d smashed and passed on. So what it had lasted a year? Bucky was leaving you now, so cheers to wasted time.

You downed the rest of your drink in one gulp as you thought to get another when someone cleared their throat beside you.

You glanced over to see your boss standing beside you, resplendent in a white suit and sunglasses. You straightened up and ran your free hand over your white mini sundress with blue polka dots and greeted him.

“Oh! Hello, Mr. Stark. This party is so nice. Great way to celebrate the Fourth!”

You plastered on a fake smile and aimed it at him. He smiled back at you.

“Cut the shit, Sugar. I know you’re not that happy. I saw you and Barnes had words and he stalked out. I warned you about fraternization.”

Your stomach dropped and you just knew that you would be fired and kicked out of Stark house, losing your graduate fellowship. Shit. Stark knew everything, even the nickname that your roommates, Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers had given you.

“Oh that? That was nothing, just a roommate disagreement.”

Stark leaned in. He smelled good. Real good. He smelled….rich.

“Listen. That rule is not because I mind co-workers getting it on…” 

He paused and winked at you, and instead of being creepy, it was funny, so you laughed. 

“It’s because most people, especially young people like you, can’t do it without all the feels.”

He nodded and you turned to see Wanda and Vis sneaking off around the house, hand in hand.

“That’s going to lead to heartbreak,” he said, indicating the sneaky couple.

Then looked you in the eyes. 

“And you’re going to be all twisted up into knots between those two grunts if you’re not careful.”

You looked at him quizzically.

“Two grunts?”

Stark sighed and raised his hand.

“You need to lay off the red, white, and blue drinks, Sugar.”

He looked you up and down and you don’t know if it was the drinks, but you weren’t mad at him. He was kind of charming.

“Barnes and Rogers. Part of the reason I keep you around, besides the fact that your IQ is within 20 points of mine, is the increased productivity around them when you are together. Competition is a wonderful thing for business.”

When the server appeared, he grabbed an elegant looking red drink.

“But lately productivity is falling. Hence Barnes’ new offer. It had to be done, Sugar. Now we all can concentrate on the work ahead.”

You frowned at what he was saying, not giving voice to your feelings on that subject. Stark sighed again and shook his head as he handed the drink to you, despite what he said earlier.

“Kir Royale.”

You accepted it and took a sip. Then you looked up at Stark.  You were beginning to think that he might have been pretty cute when he was younger.

“I was Sugar, and I’m a handsome devil now.”

You gasped and put your hand over your mouth as he winked and walked away, not knowing you’d said that out loud. You watched him walk away as he commented over his shoulder. 

“Nice dress, Sugar. It’s making several people all hard, soft, and wet.”

You gasped again, looking down. The dress covered everything, and you didn’t know what he was talking about. You turned toward the river and the afternoon sun again, finally realizing.

The sun was shining through your dress and everyone behind you could see everything you had to offer. And you hadn’t worn any underwear because you came with Bucky.

You quickly made your way down the lawn to the edge of the hedge maze to put the greenery at your back and to watch the water in privacy. Irritation was on the edge of your brain, but the drinks were making everything mellow. 

So what, your boyfriend had accepted a position in Romania for a year?

So what, you couldn’t go with because you’d won a coveted Stark fellowship that extended your housing and salary into while you studied in graduate school at NYU?

So what, Bucky didn’t consult you before committing himself?

So what, you were an idiot who thought you could have happily ever after?

You jumped at a noise behind you. You wheeled around and were stopped in your tracks.

“Hey Sugar.”

Steve was there, with a strange look on his face, but his bright blue shirt was making those eyes pop.

“Oh. Hullo Steve.” 

You pouted at him and he almost fell to his knees. 

Things had been different with you and Steve since you and Bucky had gotten together last year. You were still friends, but he kept you at arms length. You didn’t think much about it, because you’d been wrapped up in your relationship, but as you looked at him now, the guilt hit you full force.

“Oh shit, Cap! It’s your birthday!”

His Lacrosse moniker flew from your lips as you threw yourself into his arms for a hug. Steve was caught off guard and stumbled backward, but managed to break your fall with his body. His hard body. 

“Thank you. You remembered.”

You were both laughing as you untangled from each other on the ground.

“Of course I did! I’m your bestie, right?” 

You gave him your bightest smile.

“Bestie. Right.” 

Steve thought of the innocent kiss you’d shared last year. He thought of it every day, in fact. But you were Bucky’s girl. He looked at you and grinned. You made him so happy. You and Bucky were his only family, so he was glad to be with you today, if only for a moment. 

“I see you were trying to be alone. I’ll leave you be.”

The sight of you made him weak, so he made to leave before he said something stupid. Then, he felt your hand grab his.

“Just where do you think you’re going, Mister?”

“Ummm…?”

“Um, nothing! We’re going to celebrate your birthday in style, Bestie.” 

Your eyes sparkled at him.

“Are you ready for your reconnaissance mission?”

—--

20 minutes later, you and Steve met in the same place, behind the hedges. He’d completed his mission with table cloth and a box full of some hor’s d'oeuvres from the party. Steve had charmed one of the servers in the kitchen.

He took you in, a mischievous look on your face and your arms behind your back. Your nipples were pointed right at him through your dress and his mouth went dry.

“What do you have there?”

Steve’s deep baritone and his raised eyebrow did something to you, but you shook it off as you brought your hands in front of you. Steve barked at your audacity.

You’d swiped a bottle of Stark’s Bollinger Vieilles Vignes Françaises from the bar and the entire top to the strawberry and blueberry five tier sponge cake that was on the buffet.

“Only the best for my bestie!”

Steve shook his head at you as you set up the picnic.

You and Steve talked like you hadn’t in over a year. You ate and drank and just relaxed, bringing your old vibe back. Everything was perfect, even the beginning sunset across the water.

Until Steve complimented your dress.

“This is nice.” 

He took it in his hand to feel the fabric, bushing his fingertips along your thigh. You shivered and looked down at his hand, leaving Steve to marvel at your eyelashes across your cheeks. Then, you looked back up at him and reached up to feel his beard.

“So is this. Been meaning to tell you.”

Steve’s new-ish whiskers were somehow stiff, but soft, and you let your fingertips linger against his face, eyes drawn to his lips, made even more red by the strawberries off the cake. You licked yours unconsciously, thinking of that 7 minutes in heaven last summer.

“So… what do you want for your birthday?”

You reluctantly withdrew your hand from his face and sat back on your knees, hands on your thighs. For some reason, that made Steve hot and bothered. He considered you.

“Today has been great. The food, the drink, the cake.”

He grinned.

“”Great’, but not ‘Perfect.’” 

You cocked your head at him and Steve wanted his hands on you. 

“What would make it perfect?”

Steve grabbed the bottle of champagne and took a swig because you hadn’t gotten any glasses.

“It’ll never happen.”

Your interest was piqued.

“Never say never, Cap.”

Was Steve drunk, or was your voice more sultry? He shook his head, partially to clear it, and partially in denial.

“I think I can say never with confidence on this one.”

You got up on your knees and grabbed his arm.

“C’mon, please, please, please! It’s your birthday. I’ll do anything to make it happen, pleaaaseeeee!”

You bouncing up and down begging on your knees made Steve’s reserve snap.

“I want to kiss you.”

You stopped moving and your mouth hinged open. Then you licked your lips. 

“Ummmmmm….”

“That’s what I thought.”

Steve took another swig.

“Can’t do that. You’re Buck’s girl…”

Your reticence evaporated at the mention of James Barnes.

“Fuck Bucky.” 

And you threw yourself at Steve, causing him to drop the bottle, then blindly feel for it, making sure it was upright before pulling you into his lap.

The kiss was less innocent than the first, all lips, tongues and teeth, even biting as Steve sought to possess you. You found yourself grinding on Steve’s bulge as year old memories of what his casually swinging roommate cock looked like flashed through your mind.

Then you stopped, moved off Steve’s lap and lay back on the table cloth, eyes closed and hand on your heaving chest.

“That was great.”

You chuckled and smiled, eyes still closed. You missed Steve’s eyes roaming over your prone body.

“Great, but not perfect?”

“I wasn’t talking about kissing you on those lips….”

Your eyes flew open the now dark sky and you turned your head to see Steve lying next to you, a pained look on his face.

“Steve…”

“I know… but… damn Sugar… I’m down bad for you. Always have been.”

You looked into those baby blues and you knew it was true. 

“I….”

Instead of saying what you wanted to say, you shifted and pulled your dress up slowly, causing Steve’s eyes to follow every move, and an unconscious groan to escape from his lips. When you revealed your naked core to him, he got up on his knees.

“We’ve got to make your birthday perfect, now don’t we?”

Steve gulped.

“Oh, Sugar…Sugar…”

He looked up at you, eyes dilated.

“You sure…?”

“Kiss me, Stevie…”

You let your leg fall open, and Steve’s hands were on you, pulling you toward him as he leaned down toward your naked bottom. He put his hand under your thigh and propped it up and over his shoulder.

His hot breath against your pussy lips made you shudder. He looked up at you.

“I knew you’d be pretty everywhere.”

You smiled and put your hand in his hair, scratching his scalp. 

“You’re so nice, Steve.”

He raised his eyebrow.

“Nice? I’ll show you nice.”

And he leaned down and liked your pussy, tongue sweeping into your sweet tang and setting his world on fire.

“Fucking delicious…”

“Languagggeeeeee… Stevie, fuck!”

You couldn’t handle it as he dove in and pulled and sucked your clit like taffy candy

Steve chuckled, then looked up at what he was doing to you. Your head was thrown back, one hand still grabbing his hair and the other on your breast.

“Look at me.”

You brought your head up to see him and then gasped as he spit on your pussy and then licked it up. 

“Shit, Steve…”

His mouth had disappeared into your cunt as you replied.

“T-ththat wasn’t very nice. In fact…”

You had to stop speaking because now Steve had brought two thick fingers up and had entered your slick passage. The way he finger fucked you while sucking your clit made your eyes roll back in your head. You had his hair tight and the tighter you pulled, the more he groaned and licked you up. 

You grunted through your orgasm, still cognizant that people might hear you.

After you came, Steve looked up at you and curled his fingers which were still inside you, making you slap your hand over your mouth as you keened behind it. That extended your orgasm and had you searching for air as Steve’s hand ran up your dress to squeeze your soft breasts.

“That was great, Sugar. But you know what would be perfect?”

You knew knew what was coming next. 

You thought.

“If you rode my face and came in my mouth.”

“Oh.”

You were sure that you looked like a fish the way your mouth stayed open in surprise.

You were sexy as hell to Steve Rogers.

He moved smoothly down to the ground and you took in the tent that was made through his khaki pants. You were a little disappointed. You wanted him inside you.

Steve chuckled and reached out his arms, grabbing for you.

“C’mere, Sugar, bring me that sweet, sweet sugary cream.”

You blushed, despite the debauchery you just participated in, and allowed yourself to be pulled up to Steve’s chest, your skirt fanning around him as he hooked his arms around your thighs and moved your skirt up for access.

“Now, I want you to sit on my face.”

“That handsome face with that big ass tongue?” 

You used to tease him about it all the time.

Steve smiled and nodded.

“Ummmhmmmm.” 

He stuck his tongue out and wiggled it.

“The better to eat you with, my dear.”

Then he turned and kissed your thigh. Next, his blue eyes bore into yours.

“Now, bring that ass here…”

You couldn’t help but obey as you raised up on your thighs and scooted up as he scooted down. He pulled you down so that you were seated perfectly on his face, his tongue spearing inside you. His hands held you apart as next he did a swirly thing and also a full lick from the top to the bottom of you, all the while watching you.

All shyness disappeared as soon you were grabbing his hair again and undulating on his mouth. Steve nodded and groaned, which encouraged you to go for the gold.

“Oh, my god, Steve…”

You fucked yourself on his face as he sucked and tweaked your clit, listening to his moans of pleasure. The thought that this is what he wanted to do on his birthday was getting you off.

Oh, and the stunning cunnilingus that this man was performing on you helped as well.

At first you thought it was your orgasm, but the fireworks that were lighting up the sky wasn’t from your own climax, but the thousands of dollars Stark paid for them. You allowed yourself to scream as you squirted into Steve’s mouth, and you collapsed over him as he scooted out, flipped up your skirt and licked you clean.

You lay shivering on the ground watching the lights in the sky as Steve lay down beside you and viewed the fireworks with you. 

He pulled you into his arms as you whispered, “What about that?”

You wiggled your bottom against his boner.

“That will get taken care of, one way or another.”

Steve leaned up and kissed your cheek.

“Right now, this moment is perfect.”

You smiled and relaxed, thinking that what you had given Steve was also a gift to yourself.

Stars sparked in the sky as you snuggled into Steve’s arms and Bucky turned away from the hedge, heading toward Romania.

If you like it, reblog and let me know!

[icarustypicalfall]

Hi! I have a silly request but since we are both Rudy lovers (i am also radiant cod) can you please write a short little react on „I want uns to move in together“ especially Alejandro, Rudy, soap and ghost. Oc is female and ask that question 😭🥰

Hello fellow Rudy lover :3

Of course!! this is such a cute thing request awwh :')

DRABBLES!!

Cod Men's Response to reader asking them to move in together!!

Including: rudy, alejandro, ghost, soap Warnings: sfw, pure fluff, fem!reader Note: I can do a p2 with the rest of the characters if y'all are interested :D

«Moon, tell me if I could

Send up my heart to you?»

Rodolfo Rudy Parra

From the moment you met Rudy, you knew he was the right man. Not only because of his sweet demeanor, but also because of his charming personality and kind nature that made you fall hard for him. You and Rudy have been dating for almost a year and a half, and he has always treated you like a precious and delicate creature. No one has ever made you feel the way he does.

While you lived in the southern side of Las Almas with your family, Rudy resided in the bustling center of town. Getting to meet him was always a significant journey, especially with the increasing cartel crimes that made it unsafe to roam the city. However, the allure of spending nights in your lover's apartment was irresistible.

You were ready to take the next step in your relationship and couldn't wait to tell him. One late night, after spending the day together at his flat, making pizzas and dancing, you cuddled on the couch, sipping the Champurrado he had made. Rudy chuckled and gently wiped the chocolate mustache stain from your face before speaking lovingly.

"I haven't had this much fun in a while, mi amor," he murmured, brushing the strands of hair away from your face. "You seem distracted, amor. What's wrong?"

You sighed, placing your mug down, knowing it was the perfect moment to ask him. Adrenaline coursed through your veins as you gathered your courage.

"Promise me you won't get mad?" you said, looking into his eyes.

"You didn't like my abuelita's recipe?" he replied, giving you a disappointed look, causing you to laugh and shake your head.

"No, it's... I just miss you, Rudy. I feel like we're wasting time living apart. I wish we could... you know... live together. And it's..."

"You want to move in with me?" he interrupted, cupping your face and looking both serious and surprised.

You slowly nodded, furrowing your eyebrows, wondering if it was indeed a good idea. But Rudy's expression turned into a wide grin, as if to make sure you weren't joking. He pulled you into a warm embrace and showered kisses all over your face. Then, with a surge of excitement, he babbled in quick Spanish giving you a whole monologue, though you couldn't quite make out the words.

You assumed he was just thrilled, as he jumped up and rushed to grab his phone, yelling, "TE QUIERO TANTO MI AMOR!" before locking himself in the bathroom to happily inform Alejandro.

translation (i love you so much my love!)

ALEJANDRO VARGAS

After the betrayal of Phillip Graves and witnessing your lover wounded but still fighting with all his might, you were certain of two things. Alejandro Vargas was a loyal man through and through, and he was the man you wanted to be by your side until the end.

It was quite amusing how you had never considered moving in with him sooner, given that you both worked on the same frontlines, fighting against the same enemies, and spent countless nights together guarding your beloved country. The time had come to embark on a new chapter together, though you were unsure if he would agree. However, the thought of losing him that day shattered any trace of doubt or fear, leaving you with an overwhelming desire to hold him in your arms.

After a delightful dinner, you joined Alejandro on the rooftop of the base, a cherished ritual the two of you shared. Sitting in his arms, gazing at the stars, was the highlight of your day, especially since Alejandro was always busy with his duties. He motioned for you to come closer, opening his arms to welcome you as you rested your head on his thigh, relishing in the sensation of his fingers running through your hair. You inhaled his musky scent, your eyes fixed on the dark expanse above. Alejandro's smile brightened as he planted a tender kiss on your forehead, then whispered softly.

"My love, is everything alright? I haven't seen you this pensive in quite some time," he chuckled as you rolled your eyes, prompting you to share what was on your mind.

You sighed, sitting up and locking eyes with him. "I just...miss you," you confessed.

Furrowing his brow, Alejandro nodded, encouraging you to continue. "Miss me?" he queried.

"It's just...I wish we could spend more time together. I thought a part of me died when they took you away. I thought I would never see you again. That day made me realize how much I love you, Alejandro."

His gaze softened as he uttered a heartfelt, "I love you too," nodding for you to proceed.

"Would you like to move in together?" you blurted out, looking in his eyes with a hopeful yet anxious gaze.

The grin on his face widened, and he looked away briefly, his cheeks flushing with excitement. He bit his lip, unable to contain his joy.

"I was actually about to ask you the same thing, mi cielo..."

SIMON GHOST RILEY

You and Ghost were like two puzzle pieces that fit perfectly together, despite both being reserved and chilly individuals. Behind closed doors, you shared a love that no one expected to blossom. You connected on a deeper level, communicating your feelings without the need for words. It was as if you could understand each other's thoughts. Just like Simon, he wasn't fond of people, and neither were you.

Silence was your sanctuary, and you relished in the tranquil moments, indulging in activities during the early dawn or late night when the world was at its calmest. Spending the night at Simon's small flat in the city, the most peaceful corner of the bustling nation, felt like being in a place where you truly belonged.

He allowed himself to be vulnerable with you, gradually revealing more of his true self, shedding his mask on certain days, and even letting you take care of his hair and face.

Those special days spent together created cherished memories. Deep down, you yearned for more, wishing he could be the last person you saw before bed and the first person you woke up to. You hoped he felt the same way. Simon believed that actions spoke louder than words, and he made sure to keep you happy, occasionally letting slip a heartfelt "luv you."

Once again, you rose early to a cold day, with the usual morning fog lingering until the sun's rays pierced through.

It had become a habit to take Simon's dog for a walk before breakfast, as the nearby coffee shops opened up. Side by side, you walked in silence, inhaling the stillness and watching the droplets of water on the road. Simon placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, drawing you close for warmth as he calmly asked, "You alright?"

You sighed and nodded, your hands fumbling to warm them up. He clasped your palm, tucking it into his pocket, grumbling, "You should have told me straight away. There's no point in venting to Gaz." You looked at him in shock, feeling your cheeks flush. He had overheard your conversation with Gaz about how much you wanted to move in with Simon.

Ignoring your embarrassed state, Simon muttered, "Next time, tell me. I never said you weren't welcome there. Didn't know you had a parrot's brain.. that place is your home too." You gulped, staring at him in astonishment. "You, you don't mind?" His response was simple, he looked away and you swear you saw his eyes twinkle for a moment, "Never said I did."

JOHHNY SOAP MACTAVISH

The holidays were approaching, and you knew that you wouldn't see Johnny for at least two weeks. It broke your heart to be so close yet still apart. The Scottish man resided in a different city, causing the pain of distance to gnaw at you. No matter how many nights you spent together, one of you always had to leave in the morning, leaving the other to bathe in the sorrow of separation.

You longed to gather the courage to ask Johnny to move in together, but fear held you back. He was a composed man who loved you more than his beloved mohawk.

As everyone packed their belongings for the holidays, preparing to return to their flats, family homes, or partners, you entered Johnny's room and set your sports bag aside before sitting on his bed. A small laugh escaped your lips as Johnny scowled, procrastinating on packing until the last minute and now struggling to fit numerous shirts into his bag. You folded a shirt, assisting him in the task before smiling.

"So, Johnny, what are you going to do when you go back?" you asked. He grinned, carelessly tossing the clothes into the bag despite your protests. "Well, bonnie, I'm going to visit my family, and then I'll come to your place andbkidbap you and make you spend the rest of the holiday with me." You laughed and shook your head. "Can I tell you something, Johnny?" He furrowed his eyebrows, mumbling as he focused on his packing. "You'll come to my house. My mom has been dying to meet you. No excuses."

You chuckled and replied, "Well, I mean... I'd love to meet her, of course. But what I was actually talking about... do you think it's time for us to take the next step?"

The look on his face was priceless, and you had to playfully slap his arm to prevent him from blurting out something scandalous. "Not that way, you idiot. I meant... I think we should move in together. It feels like the perfect timing."

His grin widened, and he swept you off your feet, twirling you in the air. "I can't believe you said that, bonnie.. We..."

He didn't get to finish his sentence as he slipped on one of the shirts scattered on the floor, causing you to fall on your rear while he ended up trapped in his bag.

"Bonnie, help me!" he exclaimed. You chuckled and teasingly remarked, "I"I think I might just reconsider this step..."

𓆩♡𓆪

MASTERPOST

kindly like and rebelog, it motivates us to continue :)

[alice-after-dark]

A Twist on the Standard RadioStatic

Not gonna call this a headcanon just yet, but it's a concept that has been swimming around in my brain.

Standard RadioStatic tends to go something like this: Alastor and Vox were friends, Vox caught feelings and confessed to Alastor, Alastor rejected him and fucked off for 7 years, Vox is now bitter and obsessed (insert details and personal preferences as you will).

Now while I typically think the falling out was both their faults (see this post), I have read some fascinating takes on alternative ideas to this norm and it has given me some thoughts (I am sure this is far from original, but screw you I'm having fun).

TW for abusive relationships, possessive/controlling behavior, victim blaming, and other canon-typical triggers. Contains abusive StaticMoth.

So imagine...it's Alastor who catches feelings. And he has no idea what to do with them. All he really understands is that he likes being around Vox and dislikes being away from Vox and he GREATLY dislikes anyone else showing any interest in Vox (more than one Sinner has been devoured for such a daring offense). He does not enjoy these feelings, no thank you sir. They make him confused and flustered and off balance and that is simply unacceptable. Of course this is Alastor, so he doesn't really process that what he's feeling is love. It translates more into a possessiveness in his mind. As far as he's concerned, Vox is his. What that means...best not to think too hard on it. It's hardly an issue anyways, with Vox always by his side like an excited puppy.

Until he's not.

Valentino slithers his way into the picture and this makes Alastor furious. Valentino is everything he hates; he's abusive, chauvinistic, disrespectful, and utterly full of himself. He can't stand that Vox is giving this walking shit stain the time of day. Vox learns very quickly not to bring up the moth demon around Alastor because he can fucking feel the hostility coming off Alastor in waves whenever he does (he doesn't understand why, of course. Val is perfectly charming to him. Okay, so maybe he loses his temper every once in a while every other fucking day and says some nasty things but he always apologizes...). And fuck forbid they are ever in the same vicinity. Vox has had to come between them on more than one occasion to stop a fight from breaking out. This of course only makes Alastor even more hostile because why is Vox protecting that wretched excuse for a demon? These encounters usually end with Alastor angrily taking his leave of both of them for the rest of the day. He ignores that so very loud part of his mind that protests leaving Vox alone with Valentino.

The breaking point comes when Alastor sees Vox's cracked screen for the first time.

Vox insists it was an accident, that Valentino didn't mean to. They just got into a small argument and Val can get pretty animated when he's upset and he didn't mean to shove Vox like that and it was Vox's fault anyways for continuing to push when he knew Val was mad he should have just given him space and Alastor is not listening anymore. He's heard this song and dance before. He's seen it played out before his very eyes. He will have none of it and WHY THE FUCK WILL VOX NOT JUST LET HIM KILL THIS FUCKING MOTH?!

Alastor loses his shit. He goes on a tirade about Valentino. This is not the mere hostile exchange of barbs Vox has seen between them before. This is pure unadulterated vitriol. Vox always knew that Alastor and Val didn't get along, but Alastor has never once let him see this absolute hatred he has been harboring for the moth demon. He has never seen Alastor's demeanor break like this before. He flat out demands Vox to never see Valentino again. They start to argue. Vox doesn't understand what is happening.

"Why the fuck do you think you get a say in who I'm friends with?!"

"B̃ͦͧEC̸͎ͯ̓̀Ą̨̼̠ͧ͜͝U͉̟͎̔ͩS͐E Y̢̦͂O̸͖U͗'̿ͮͪ̒̐_R͎͗̉̒Ḙ̑ M̵͔̱͂́ͭI̳N̯̲̝ͯ̄E̳̤͎ͯ̓ͬ͜!͙̪"

"I'm...what the fuck?!"

Because Vox doesn't understand what Alastor is saying. Fuck, Alastor doesn't understand what he's saying. He just wants Vox as far away from Valentino as possible and Vox is just not listening. Why won't he fucking listen?! And then it click with Alastor what he just said to Vox and the panic starts to set in and he feels vulnerable and exposed and he's not even sure why but he doesn't like it and it needs to stop now so he does what Alastors do best. He attacks the cause of those feelings.

He starts mocking Vox. Viciously. Goes for every weak point, every crack, every loose thread. He tears into him, shredding him down and spitting out the refuse. Did Vox really think he cared about him? That he was special? That he was ever anything more than a source of amusement? How fucking hilarious.

Vox attacks him and the rest is very messy history.

TLDR Alastor basically confessed in a very Alastor way because what are feelings and well fuck he's eating them, then panicked and proceeded to handle his vulnerability in a very Alastor way, Vox took what he said at face value and did not react well to being insulted, and Alastor took it as a rejection (even though he didn't entirely understand that that's what he was feeling).

[marigold-hills]

Dunes & Waters, part 44

PART 1 • PREVIOUS PART • NEXT PART

They get the water.

Remus fills a glass bottle he steamed clean before leaving, corks it and puts a charm on it so it doesn’t spill. Sirius is already Padfoot, running in and out of the Nile, accosting passers-by’s and making children laugh. A little one gets prompted by his parents to ask Remus permission, then spends half an hour throwing a stick which Padfoot fetches each and every time. It’s a lovely day. They’re just north of Aswan, where the Nile historically began to flood before promanades were built and agriculture evolved into no longer needing the natures’ assistance.

There’s something sad about it, even while it’s amazing, how the people living there moved forward and harnessed what before was out of their control. Still, Remus can’t help but look at the water with a nostalgia for things which came and went before his time: for five thousand years, people came to the river for help with their crops. Prayed to it, made up gods for it. Now, the river is just that. Beautiful, but not much but a geological attraction.

“Your dog is very well behaved,” the family says when the child has had enough of running around with Padfoot. “What did you use to train him?”

“He came to me like that,” Remus tells them because anything else that springs to mind is not appropriate for polite conversation.

He sits on the grass. Padfoot lays at his feet, head resting on his thigh, eyes closed. The Nile is in front of them, the New Aswan City Amphitheater behind.

“The Nile was a way into the afterlife, you know?” Remus tells the dog. It focuses on him. “A causeway from life to death. Where Osiris drowned, but also where all life comes from.”

A soft huff from the dog, and Remus knows Sirius well enough to know it means keep going. Tell me more.

“I think I know what the potion does,” Remus pets through the dark mane on the dogs head, “I���ve got the translation… not fully, but I’ve got the gist of it. She wrote about control, and regaining it. When the moon is full, before you are made into beast, drink. The gods will speak to Osiris for you. If he’s so willing, forever the night will be yours to command.”

The dog pushes its mouth into Remus. 

“I don’t know why I didn’t tell you. No, that’s a lie. You can always tell anyway. We should write to Kingsley. You’re done with what you were supposed to do. And I’ve been keeping you here, pointlessly. Keeping you from going home. Just… well, the translation was something I could still pretend I needed your help with, but it’s just unfair on you, and I’m sorry. I really, I am, Sirius -”

He’s cut off. The dog becomes a man. There is no one around them, but Remus still panics. 

Hands on his face, Sirius stops him from talking. 

“I’m not done with you yet,” he says. “You think I didn’t realise we were almost finished? Remus, you’re not keeping me here. I’m staying here, whatever my conditions of release were, because I want to be.” Sirius kisses so softly like it could show he’s honest and Remus breaks, just a little bit, because he fretted for nothing. They still have time. Not much of it, but it’s there. Sirius isn’t leaving.

“The translation. Tell me.”

“Follow in the footsteps of Osiris, beloved one, but beware. There is a price to be paid for chance of freedom - the price of rebirth is wading through death. If gods do not favour in your way, the path of return will be lost.”

They sit in silence, Sirius with the frown between his eyebrows he always gets when deep in thought. “So it is about the transformation.”

“It is. I think… well, I think it’s meant to make it so the werewolf doesn’t lose control. It sounds like once you drink, you stay in your mind forever.”

“It sounds like it’s warning you of something. The price of rebirth is death,” Sirius speaks cautiously. Moves himself away to get a better look at Remus. “And I checked, red lotus and acacia both symbolise rebirth. You weren’t planning on drinking it, were you?”

And Remus knows better than to lie, so he stays quiet.

“Remus. My love. Darling. You can’t be… this is an ancient potion we got the recipe for out of an artefact. It’s not tested. Surely you know I wouldn’t let you.”

“You can’t be surprised that I would be tempted.”

“Tempted is one thing,” Sirius runs frustrated fingers through his hair. “But to actually consider it? It’s not worth it. Even if it wasn’t for the fact that it could be a very old practical joke a couple thousand years in the making, it literally has a warning on the label. The path to return will be lost, you said.”

“That could mean anything.”

“Or it could mean that you die, Remus.”

They both sit with the words. The sun softly sets over the Nile.

“I won’t make it if it’s for anything else than research,” Sirius says. “You can’t make me contribute to you hurting yourself.”

Remus lays his head on Sirius’ shoulder, half expecting to be pushed off. Instead, a hand cradles through his hair, fingers get lost in curls frizzy from the day spent by a late body of water.

“Fine,” he agrees, because he can’t imagine a world in which he’d willingly push Sirius away.

There will be ways to test it, he thinks. To check whether it works, what it does, what the warning really means. If death is, in fact, a condition of the potion and rebirth just the optional outcome. 

NEXT PART

@tealeavesandtrash

@moon-girl88

@hoje--aqui

@cocoabutterandbooks

@onion-sliced-apples

@prancingpony42

@digital-kam

@remoonysiriusly

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@annaliza999

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(let me know if you do/don’t want to be tagged!)

[adalwolfgang]

helo. how about yandere once-ler/greed-ler x meowscarada reader?

for example, arrange everything in such a way that the reader first helps the Lorax to drive him out of the forest, and then it becomes all the same to her - for why repeat the same thing if the deed is done?

And I beg you PLEASE not in idiotic scenarios like: a yandere dummy killed, kidnapped and raped, but something original from you and what do you think.

I don't care that it will be a one-shot or a headcanon just from you)

I know russian, but I write with google translator lol

Onceler x Meowscarada!Reader head-canons

A/n:I’m sorry for the wait, school is ending soon and I’ve been busy! I use google translate sometimes as well haha! Anyways, since I’m not familiar with Pokémon I had to do some digging to get an idea of how to write you the reader so I hope this is sorta what you wanted and if not please let me know and I’ll try and adjust this!

Warnings: none I can really spot in this except once-ler and greed-ler are the same person. I don’t see the point of making them ‘different’

(Image found on Pinterest, I don’t own it)

This wasn’t what you had in mind when you agreed to help an old friend of yours. The Lorax.

Currently you were sitting by a truffula tree observing as barbaloots pick up this man’s bed and trying fitting in through his door. The Lorax explained his plan to you a day before, how he would put him in the river so he would float away. The Lorax didn’t like this man due to his habit of wanting to chop down all the trees.

The reason you were there was in case anything go out of hand. Like for example the barbaloots couldn’t lift the bed, or the man wakes up? Anything really, that the Lorax needed extra assistance with.

One day later..

The Lorax’s plan didn’t go as well as he thought it would. A young barbaloot was still on the bed as it drifted down stream. Luckily you saved both the barbaloot and the man since the current accidentally pushed them into the rapids where the waterfall was.

After that night of you saving him, the man you now know as ‘once-ler’ kept trying to talk to you. Problem being everytime he tried to make conversation, you would disappear if he just blinked. At first it freaked him out but he soon got used to it and tried to find ways to get you to stay around longer.

The Lorax kept getting frustrated with the once-ler. Even after all his warnings and tricks. Then when he noticed bean-pole trying to make conversation with you, that really made him mad. He didn’t want you falling for this idiots charms and advances so he tried to keep you away from him as much as he could.

Greedler era..

This was bad. Really bad.

The once-ler was losing it with greed. It got so bad to the point where you and the rest of the animals living in the truffula forest started calling him greedler.

You and the Lorax tried warning him but he wouldn’t listen. He even offered you a position. One you couldn’t refuse. Stay by his side.

“How about it? I’m the richest man alive! I’m making millions everyday! I can get you anything you could ever want!”

It scared you how much he changed in such a short time. You missed the old once-ler. But after trying to change his mind for so long, you started giving in.

What was the point? He obviously wasn’t planning on changing his ways anytime soon. All the truffula trees kept lowering in numbers. You felt hopeless in the situation.

After awhile of staying with the once-ler after finally agreeing to his proposition, you stopped trying. There wasn’t no point. It wasn’t as bad though either. He treated you like a goddess. Pampering you with gifts and trying best to his ability to make time for you. Which brings you to your current state.

“Don’t ever leave me. Please..” he would say as he cuddled close to you in bed. He almost sounded like his old self when it was late and you two would be cuddled into each other. Until the sun rose and he had to get back to work that is.

I hope this was close to what you wanted! 🫶

[resowrites]

Upstairs, Downstairs - oneshot (request).

Summary: Henry gets sick and becomes the patient from hell…

Pairings: AU!Henry Cavill x Wife!OC

Warnings: fluff, banter/British humour, language, dialogue heavy, nondescript OC body type/appearance, hastily written/lightly proofread.

WC: 1186

A/N: My work must not be copied, reposted, or translated elsewhere. Likes, follows, reblogs and comments are thoroughly welcome and appreciated! Gifs/pics not my own. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for visiting!

Upstairs, Downstairs - oneshot.

She could hear Henry groaning as she mounted the stairs. Carefully she balanced the tray bearing some toast, her Nintendo Switch she was letting him borrow, and more painkillers. She entered their bedroom as quietly as she could, though Henry still stuck his head up to inspect the food he thought he could smell from the kitchen. "Did you cut the crusts off?" At this, she pursed her lips and dropped the tray onto the bedside table with a clank. The noise made him wince and she couldn't help but smirk.

"Yes your majesty, as well as some more painkillers and my Switch if you're up to playing it." But one look at Henry suggested that was unlikely, his eyes were screwed up against the pain despite the room being in total darkness.

"Tablets please."

"Oh darling, is your headache really no better?" She carefully helped sit him up and handed over the painkillers along with a glass of water.

"It's a migraine." She couldn't help but roll her eyes.

"No it isn't, it's just a bad headache--"

"It's a migraine!"

"Henry, I suffer from migraines myself, you're barely able to move. Now take your tablets and rest, you'll feel better in another hour or two. And it'll serve you right for staring at yourself in the mirror so long--"

"I was shaving!"

"Well try it blindfolded next time, that might resolve the issue permanently."

"Charming, and it wasn't that that did it, I was concentrating too hard painting my Warhammer--" she quickly interrupted, not wishing to get Henry started on the subject of Warhammer.

"Yeah that's fascinating, now take your tablets please."

"You know, this is not very good nursing… you're not even wearing a uniform!" She rolled her eyes again.

"Don't be a perv. And if you want a nurse, hire one. Though at this rate only a saint would cope."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He handed her back the glass and rested his head against the pillow, his eyes closed despite still talking.

"It means I've had to run around after you like a blue-arse fly and I'm nearing the end of my tether. Now have some toast--"

"In a minute, chat to me first." Henry patted her empty spot on the bed.

"Henry, you need to either have something to eat or go to sleep. I'll wake you at dinner, that's if you can still manage to eat…" He opened his eyes just in time to catch her smirk, but his expression suddenly grew more serious.

"… Don't leave." She burst out laughing.

"Henry, you're not a baby! Besides you need to rest."

"But I'm bored!"

"I am not here to entertain you, mister! I have a mountain of ironing to do as well as dinner to prepare." Henry's face became forlorn and for a moment she was genuinely worried. "Here, let me take your temperature…" She removed a thermometer from her pocket and held it up to his mouth.

"Warm it up first." She looked up to the ceiling and held her breath. When she tried again, Henry pulled away slightly.

"Make an aeroplane noise…"

"Henry, I really am losing my patience! Now let me take your temperature or I'll put this thermometer someplace it'll definitely feel cold!" He harrumphed but opened his mouth all the same.

"You know those tablets are no good, they didn't work when I took them earlier--" she shushed Henry, determined to get an accurate reading on the thermometer.

"Mmm… slightly high--"

"See, I told you I was coming down with something!"

"No, you told me you were painting your toys--"

"They're not toys!" She sighed.

"Whatever! Anyway your temperature's only slightly up, you're not feeling sick are you?" She looked at the plate of still-uneaten toast and began to wonder.

"Well, I'd get no sympathy from you either way! Now hand me that toast." She eyed the plate again, tempted to dump it all over him. He took one large bite. "Mmm… it's cold." She turned to go.

"Then chew on it, that'll warm it up."

"Wait! I didn't say you could leave." But the bedroom door slammed shut behind her.

She smiled as she gazed around the living room, both dogs snoozing at her feet. The housework was finished and she could finally put her feet up. It was a rare treat indeed to have a Henry-free afternoon and she was determined to enjoy it. But then her phone pinged. She ignored it and turned up the volume on the tv. Then came another ping. And another. Finally, the phone rang. "What?!" Oh, Henry, I'm trying to relax! Do I really need to come up there?" The phone rang off and she threw it aside, thoroughly irritated as she stomped up the steps. When she opened the bedroom door, he was sitting lower against the headboard, his eyes still closed. "Well?!"

"I need you to fluff my pillows." Her mouth fell open.

"You are kidding?! You made me come all the way up here, just for that?!"

"Yeah, I'm slipping. It's not comfy." She could tell Henry was trying not to laugh.

"Well carry on and I'll bloody smother you! That's if I can find a pillow big enough for that big fat head!" He held a finger up to his lips.

"Shhh… you're talking too loud."

"That's it! You're on your own. I'm not lifting another bloody finger for you…" For the second time that hour, she slammed the door. But just as she was making her way down the stairs, her phone pinged again. She knew better than to read the message, but she also knew Henry wouldn't stop bothering her until she did. Apparently, she'd forgotten something. Her brow furrowed. She was sure she hadn't bought anything up, but curiosity got the better of her and she made her way back towards the bedroom. When she entered the room, he didn't respond. She took a few steps closer, concerned whether he was alright. Suddenly the bed covers were thrown back.

"BOO!!!" She nearly hit the ceiling she jumped so high.

"Oh my God, you stupid twat! You nearly made me shit myself!" She went to grab hold of the bedside table for support but Henry just laughed and pulled her into a hug. "Get off me you silly sod, what did you really want me for?!" She tried to pull free of his arms but he held tight and smiled maniacally.

"I wanted you to take the tray down…" At that moment she could have knocked him out with it. "Oh and can you pick up the remote? It dropped on the floor." Her nostrils flared.

"Anything else, sire?!"

"Just your company m'lady…"

"I take it you're feeling better then?"

"Why don't you join me in here and find out…" Henry wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"I think not! You've been a pain in the arse all day and if possible, I'd like a bit of peace and quiet."

"Madam, you should know that's impossible." She sighed, finally smiling at him. Henry was right, in their household there was no such thing.

To be updated on when I post please follow @resowrites and turn on post notifications.

@elizabetharegina @fanfictionaddiction99 @luclittlepond @caffeinatedfestivalsheep @summersong69 @ushijimbo @penneferofvenerburg

[ubtendo]

Could you tell us about your oc you posted? She looks super cool and I wanna know about her

Wait, like actually for real?

I mean sure, might as well (tldr: a bit lengthy background story about how the oc came to be; you can skip that if you want)

So like about 6 or 7 years ago (so like, when I was 13 - 14ish) I actually had a bigger friend group I was hanging around with by the end of my school years and we DID have a plan to play a dnd campaign but we never even played one session and the friend group dispersed soon after we made that plan since we all graduated and switched schools so we never saw each other again (only got contacts with one of the guys anymore so yeah, wah-wah, nobody wants to hear the sob-story but I feel the background is imp to mention)

I don't have any previous drawings of her and only sparse notes flying around, and I was only reminded of her existence by that friend more or less recently, since I told him about my current interest in dnd

(Also here please note, we were children who didn't know dnd, any mechanics or how to play, we were just having fun with our imagination, so if anything doesn't make sense about this character, this is why)

So here ACTUALLY what this characters is about:

Her name was supposed to Silvester and she was a bard wood elf, about 200 years old and actually stupid tall, I'm talking about 7 to almost 8 ft tall (I know that this is a ridiculous hight, don't come for my teen self💀)

The "staff" she is carrying and using is what we call a "Teufels Geige", which translated means "Devil's Violin", and I only know about that thing because I saw an old video of when my dad was a teen and he played it (I don't know if there is an official English name for it? From what I know it's primarily used in European countries in folk music and to accompany other instruments but you could just play it on it's own) (The devils head on top is placed there because of its name but I wanted for Silvester to match that energy so she made herself a headpiece out of a cow's horns)

Since I'm not really a singer type or like super witty and funny, I was having trouble with making her character, but one of my old friends said that she doesn't have to be a singing performer but that she could be a poet of sorts. Now, I'm not a poet either, but I could work with that better.

So Silvester here was striving throughout the land watching people and writing down and collecting stories she heard from others or witnessed them herself, to make poems, stories and nursery rhymes out of them.

And well she had hundreds and thousands of these stories and stuff written down, but one she had never finished about a mother and her four children, which would have been a rather sweet rhyme, but in the end she would get way to upset just thinking about what happened.

Not gonna continue here because that part of the backstory got unnecessary dark and morbid because it would involve deaths and I was still a bit edgy with my story writing.

She was chased away by people living in a village near her cottage in the woods, by burning down that small forest she was living in.

After that she still continued to write down stories and poems. But they usually ended up being dark and grotesque now. (Because a lot of nursery rhymes and children short stories we were told about as kids were about injury and death and tragedy, for some reason, don't ask😗🫰) (I would put some examples out the top of my head here but I would have to translate them and then they would sort of lose their charm and meaning)

Annnnnddd I don't remember how she actually met the rest party after that since we never got that far💀

But yeah that's about the gist of it

If I ever play dnd I would really want to reboot her character since I kind of think that she had an interesting concept.

(+ here is also a little warm up drawing of her)

[prongsie-kins]

part three of when i met you

this is a filo!james au revolving around james potter courting regulus black in a semi-traditional way

disclaimer: english is NOT my first language and not the type that this would be beautifully written but there might be some grammatical error i didn't notice while editing. also keep in mind that this is my first multichapter fic and im still trying to improve my writing

translation at the bottom

Beginning | Previous | Next

then you came you brought me out of the shell

"James!" Sirius shouted, fuming mad. "Are you seriously courting my brother? My baby brother?"

"Yes, I am Siriusly courting Regulus," James playfully replied. "But yes, I won't make any promises that I wouldn't hurt him because that is inevitable. I'm serious about him, no pun intended. And I want to show him that he could like me like I could like him."

"Fine, I'll trust you in this one but at least let me help you. I want to know how you do it."

—

"How do you do this?" Sirius complains. James only laughs and pats his back.

"Just push your thumb on the first layer of the wrapper around the meat so it can be rolled easier," James explains as he wraps another one and then folds both ends of the first layer before continuing to roll it around the rest of the wrapper. Then finishing it by applying egg wash to the edge of the last unrolled corner. He did all that in one swift motion.

James have done a neat pile while Sirius did three. Wrappers all messy and loose.

The two were in the kitchens making a snack James would give Regulus. Politely asked the elves to let them use the kitchens. They were kind enough to bring them the ingredients they needed. Sirius stuck around as he wanted to eat a few as well. James then forced him to help, stating he can't make many by himself.

By the time James added a single roll in the hot oil, Sirius chickened out. Stepping back to watch James work.

The dish turns out golden brown, alongside Sirius' hard work, with the meat poking out of the wrapper. He munched on it earnestly.

When they got back to their dorm, the dish was suddenly in a green Tupperware James conjured out of nowhere. Turns out, Effie insisted on them keeping the Tupperware when she sent them food from home.

James has his own Tupperware stacked somewhere hidden in the dorm. Different colors of Tupperware in various sizes. Effie constantly reminded them never to lose the Tupperware whenever she sent them to either James or Sirius. They made sure to keep that reminder in mind because you do not want to see Effie mad.

—

An odd-looking container was suddenly perched up on Regulus' desk. It was large, circular, and bowl-shaped with a funky-looking lid full of ridges resembling folded paper. There was a note attached on top of the lid.

If you ever feel hungry studying late at night

~James

p.s. make sure to bring back the container, Mum would be upset ;)

Regulus carefully opened the lid of the still-warm container. It was probably charmed to stay warm as it seemed like the container had been on his desk for half an hour. Inside the container are golden bite-sized rolls. He often sees Sirius and Marlene munching on this snack.

He grabbed one roll and slowly took a bite of the crunchy roll. He immediately tasted the slightly salty wrappers that kind of looked like a crepe. Inside were ground meat filled with various ingredients such as onions and carrots. The flavor exploded in Regulus' palate.

He always wanted to try this snack and James gave him a container filled with it.

He happily munched on them while studying. His non-dominant hand grabs a roll—as it is slightly greasy due to deep frying it—while his other hand is turning the pages of the book he's reading.

This is the scene that greeted Barty by the time he went back to their dorm. He was fully intent on taking a nap before smelling food coming from Regulus' way.

So as instinct, he walked towards Regulus."What's that?" He asked.

"Oh, this?" Regulus gestures to a Tupperware filled with snacks sitting on his desk. "James gave it to me."

"Can I have one?"

"No."

"Is it that good?"

"Ask James for it. This is mine."

"You have gotten too whipped for him to get to that point."

"I am not. He sent me this for something to eat while studying late at night. I don't want to finish it before later."

"You are so in denial at this point. How can you process things with that air-filled brain of yours to not take a hint in this."

"He's just being considerate, Barty. Stop it, please."

"I won't be promising nothing."

—

"How'd you like the Lumpiang Shanghai then?" James asked the next day.

"Is that what's it called? It's incredible. How'd you make the elves do it?" He asked, a bit curious since it's a foreign dish.

"They didn't. Well, they were kind enough to buy us ingredients but mostly we did the job. It was Mum's recipe," James shrugs.

"You, James Potter, can cook?"

"I can sing for you too if you pleased."

"No thanks. But you did mention 'we', who helped you making?"

"Sirius." James was shocked to hear Regulus laugh since it was the first time he heard it actually genuine.

"Really," Regulus asked, incrediously. "My brother, helped you cook?"

"He cooked for himself but it's the thought that counts."

Regulus chuckles. Still refusing to believe what he has heard.

"Where was the Tupperware, by the way?"

"Barty lost it, sorry?" James visibly pales at Regulus' reply. "Why? What's wrong?"

James released a shaky laugh. "Lagot, I am seriously screwed when we get back home."

Next

———

"Lagot" - an expression usually used when you are in trouble.

[nekoannie-chan]

Never enough

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader.

Word count: 223 words.

Rating: Teen.

Summary: One kiss is never enough.

Major Tags: Fluff.

Additional tags: This is my gift to @chasingmidnights. HAPPY BIRTHDAY COURTNEY!

You can read it on Wattpad and Ao3 too.

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

I don’t give any kind of permission for my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

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Steve needed to get home as soon as possible; he had a bad feeling and needed to make sure you were okay. He was getting desperate because the rest of the team was not hurrying to finish the mission. He was desperate to get back.

He didn't even let the ship finish landing when he left; he didn't care what they were whispering behind his back.

Anything could happen to you on your day off, and one of Steve's biggest fears was losing you, so he wasn't going to let it.

As best he could, he parked the motorcycle quickly, rushed inside, and found you preparing dinner.

“How did the mission go? “you asked him when you saw him.

You didn't get an answer; instead, Steve grabbed you around the waist and planted a kiss on you.

“One kiss is just never enough," Steve whispered.

“Are you all right? You're acting a bit weird," you questioned, pulling away from him but not letting go of the spatula in your hand.

“I just missed you, that's all," Steve replied, and you nodded even though you didn't believe him. He was too bad at lying, but at least he felt reassured that you were okay.

“I was cooking lasagna for dinner; do you want some?“ you offered.

“Sure, then we can go for a walk."

[bullet-prooflove]

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Companion piece to Berlin

It’s cold up on the roof, even with your overcoat. Someone’s tried to make it into a break area, they’ve pulled out a wrought iron bench, set out a couple of garden tables on either side, some battery powered lamps. You sit down upon the bench, your hands tucked firmly into your pockets as you stare out across the nighttime sky. You can’t stand to be downstairs right now, to see the sympathy in the flight team’s gazes, the pity as they fill out the reports detailing your humiliation.

You don’t turn around when you hear the door open behind you, you already know it’s Scott. You’ve become attuned to his presence in the time you’ve worked together, you’d know it anywhere. He takes a seat alongside of you and you can’t bring yourself to look at him. Your chest aches as you fix your gaze straight ahead.

“We don’t have to talk about it.” Scott says quietly as he studies the skyline. “We can just sit here together until you’re ready to leave.”

He means the interview with Simon, the man you’ve been seeing over the last four months, the one who’d seduced you to gather intelligence. You’d watched through the window of the interrogation room as he’d told Scott all of the gory details. What you liked, how you liked it.

“It had been a long time for her, I could tell.” Simon had told him as he leaned over the table almost conspiratory, as if he was just having a conversation, one man to another. “There was a look in her eyes when she came, a release. She told me afterwards about her husband but I already knew, it was the reason I picked her.”

“He’s the first man I’ve been with since Matthew died.” You find yourself telling Scott.

There’s a cruelty in what Simon did. It’s taken you three years to get to a point where you were you felt ready to move on, to let someone else in again.

You’d been stationed in Germany with Europol when you’d discovered Matthew’s illness. He had been a translator for the UN, working all over the world, he thought the travel was wearing him down until he coughed up blood one morning and by then it was too late.  He’s died only a few weeks later and it was like your whole world had fallen apart. You couldn’t stand to be in Berlin after that. You’d applied for the transfer to Budapest, become part of his team.

“I just wanted to feel something again, to remember what it was like…”

You don’t need to say the words, Scott understands.

You wanted to feel loved again, desired.

“I can’t go home tonight. ” You tell him, your voice breaking as you press your fingers to your lips. “I can’t sleep in those sheets. He was at my place last night. We...”

You’ve managed to keep your shit together until now, remained impassive in the face of it all but you’re bleeding out, Scott can see it and it’s visceral. If he could take it all away he would but he can’t turn back the clock, he can’t stop Simon from charming his way into your bed, from using you but he can make your reality a little easier.

“Stay with me tonight.” Scott says quietly, his hand coming to rest upon yours.  “You’ll have to share the bed with Tank but I’ll take the couch. Tomorrow we can deal with the sheets, we can move your furniture around, look at listings, whatever you want but tonight just give yourself the time to breathe, to process everything that’s happened.”

“Ok.” You say, your voice barely more than a whisper. “Thank you, I just…”

You can’t say how much it means to you, to have that space, to be around someone who isn’t trying to take something away from you, who doesn’t expect anything of you.

“You will get through this.” Scott promises you, his fingers entwining with yours. “And I will do everything in my power to help you.”

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