#this took too fucking long to make do people normally spend this long making posts

[toffeebeantable]

The owl house crew really went "this boy will keep his menacing cool first impression for one episode"

First entrance: Shoots out of water in a giant kickass fist after Eda says Luz could have gotten killed

Quotes: "That can still be arranged" while mask is literally steaming

Then the rest are:

Casually whistles the freaking show's theme on an errand run

Gets his ass rocketed away like team rocket

Accidentally falls off a rock ledge directly in front of the people he was spying on

Gets recognized by his annoying voice and then runs away only to get clowned on

Gets his sock stolen by some beast after failing to socialize with people his age then tries to run away from a 14 year old girl (I mean that's fair though in this context)

Gets his ass dragged down to the ground anyway and is literally bound up in vines terrified of middle schoolers (ok mostly the first one tho)

Walks out of the shadows intimidatingly (in his mind) in the most ugliest raggedy-assed lookin outfit ever and accidentally reveals his trash-pile home

Tries to look cool like the friends coming along was their idea but gets called the fuck out

[snoozisworld]

Bi-Han x Fem!Reader - Arranged Marriage HCS (Part II)

A/N: AHHH finally. part dos. its really late cuz i lowkey forgot to set a timer for this to post soooooo my bad. anyways part 2 is also long so buckle up.

.·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·.

It's finally the day of the wedding, how will this go?:

- Today's the day. Bi-han's most dreaded event. The wedding.

- The preparations were hell. Maids and workers frantically running around, making sure everything was perfect. Bi-han hated it.

- He wanted to train today, but his father forbade him from it, as the preparation's would take up most of the day and, "He cant have the groom be late for his own wedding".

- Bi-han was in a sour mood all day, everyone in the venue avoided him like the plague in fear that they would be the next victim he would verbally attack.

- He just didn't understand. If this wedding's sole purpose was to seal in the alliance for good, why go all out? its not like its an actual normal wedding, it was just . . . so fucking stupid.

- After a few hours, the venue was complete. It was beautiful, various decorations such as flowers, table cloths and the altar arch were all a soft blueish green color combined with a clean white.

- The blue symbolizing the Lin Kuei, the green symbolizing your clan. If this was a real wedding, between two people who actually loved each other, Bi-han would have actually enjoyed it.

- Instead he was silently brooding in his dressing room, staring daggers into the person who was working around his outfit. He was fitted in a traditional blue long tang suit, embroidered with different gold and white accents.

- He looked in the mirror and briefly wondered what his mother would think; as he took in his appearance he actually saw some truth in Kuai Liang's statement; his mother, despite the real reason, would be proud of him getting married.

- He had barely heard the nervous worker exclaim he was done, and that it was almost time for the wedding to start.

- Standing at the altar, Bi-han felt like he's been waiting an eternity. He tried to look for his father and brothers in the crowd, but after seeing everyones eyes on him he immediately went back to looking at the wall.

- Finally, he saw you walking down the aisle. you had a veil (honggaitou) covering your face, and you wore a traditional sage green cheongsam.

- After taking your place in front of the altar, the officiant started the wedding ceremony. but Bi-han couldn't care less.

- He was too busy staring at your damned veil, and despite his personal vendetta against you, not seeing your face was just was just as annoying as seeing it.

- Finally the vows are over, and he has to lift up your veil.

- And there it was, your face. Your annoyingly beautiful face. You looked up at him as the veil lifted and he briefly wondered if you felt the same emotions he was feeling.

- You wore such a calm expression, it only served to make Bi-han angrier.

- You both bowed and walked off the altar, and just like that, the wedding was officially over.

- The next few hours were the banquet, the drinks, the food, etc. None of which Bi-han, or you for that matter, participated in.

- You both made a beeline to your respective bedrooms and stayed there the rest of the night.

.·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·.

Life as a married couple:

- The first few weeks after the wedding were painfully quiet, with you spending most of your time in the kitchen, the bedroom or the garden, and Bi-han training with his brothers, doing paperwork and shadowing his father.

- Until one night Bi-han came back from a particularly dangerous mission, and had cuts and wounds all over his body.

- He sat in your now shared bedroom, much to Bi-han's dismay, trying to stitch himself up.

- Unfortunately for Bi-han, he was not the best medic, and just kept injuring himself further. That's when you entered the bedroom and saw him stumbling and fiddling around with a needle.

- When you offered to help for the first time, he just told you off rather rudely. You considered just leaving him there, maybe he'd get a nasty infection from all the horrible stitching he's doing. But you're not that evil.

- So you stubbornly ask again and again, until Bi-han looks at you with a pointed look and begrudgingly hands over the needle.

- You stitch him up gracefully, with the upmost care. Bi-han didn't know how to react, feeling your soft hands practically gliding over his skin gave him goosebumps.

- He eventually just closed his eyes, and let you work quietly. You softly hummed as you continued working, something Bi-han found strangely comforting.

- After you were done, you set down the tools and looked at him with an expression he couldn't quite figure out.

- He finally realized what you were looking at, the cut on his cheek.

- You weren't staring at him just to stare, you were asking for permission.

- And Bi-han relented, letting you mend his face too. And he didn't know whether he regretted his decision or if he was thankful that you were there.

- If he thought the feeling of your hands on his arms was nice, the feeling of your hands on his face was next level.

- Bi-han felt . . . good. He admittedly loved the feeling, and enjoyed being taken care of by you.

- Suddenly you were done, and you retracted your hands from his face faster than he would've liked.

- But that simple act of kindness managed to change how Bi-han viewed you.

- He started eating your food and eating with you.

- You started accompanying him to his office, helping with some of the paperwork.

- He even started engaging in conversations with you. The more he learned about you the more he fell in love. Something Bi-han didn't actually think was possible for him.

- After months of dancing around each other's feelings, something unexpected happened.

- You were sitting down at your vanity when Bi-han entered the room. He was holding something.

- You looked up at him, then down at his hands. You asked him about what he was holding and he just told you to stand up and face him.

- And when you did, he opened his hands to reveal a stunning necklace. You were in awe and so surprised that he got you a gift your eyes welled up.

- You turned around and faced away from him, and he clipped the necklace on your neck. You looked in the mirror and you couldn't hold back your tears.

- You faced him again and thanked him, you had no idea Bi-han was capable of doing this.

- For a moment Bi-han looked at your tear-filled face and thought you looked beautiful while you cried too.

- You hugged him, and while it took Bi-han by surprise, he just pulled away and cupped your face.

- He expressed his gratitude for you, and as the man of a few words that he is, he just finished by kissing you.

- After pulling away and seeing you look so . . . elated, he realized maybe this whole arranged marriage thing wouldn't be so bad after all.

(2/2)

.·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·.

A/N: im finally done and my neck hurts. hope u guys enjoyed this :))

[noxturnalpascal]

Mutual

Steve Murphy x F!Reader (3.6k)

Summary: You and Steve spend some late nights in the office together, finding a new way to work off some of the frustrations of the never-ending hunt for the narcos.

Warnings: Basically all smut (and a big ole cock). Infidelity (only if your name is Connie).

A/N: A gift for one of my favorite - and long time - mutuals, @toxicanonymity. Thanks for everything you do for this community and for always being there whenever I need anything. Love you lots!!

You walk into the mostly-empty office holding two styrofoam cups of coffee and wearing a beleaguered expression. Immediately your eyes are drawn to Murphy’s hands, his elongated fingers, stained purple and red beneath the skin, cuts still oozing at his knuckles. You watch him stand up, take off his jacket and loosen his tie, then resume sitting behind his desk, completely ignoring your entrance. 

“You’re here late,” Peña offers.

“Yeah, well some of us can’t get away with doing whatever we want,” you quip back.

Peña’s hand flies to his chest and pouts his lower lip as if your words have wounded him. You roll your eyes. You look back towards Murphy and can’t help but notice that he’s not wearing his wedding ring. You wonder why. He still hasn’t looked up, busy flipping through paperwork, making notes in the margins.

“Seriously though, why are you here so late? I bet your boyfriend doesn’t like that,” Peña teases.

“I’ve told you several times that I don’t have a boyfriend, Peña.”

“And I’ve told you several times to call me Javi,” he coos. You resist the urge to roll your eyes again as he maintains eye contact. “Besides, if you’re single, why don’t I ever see you going on dates?”

“Because I’m here, working through dinner with you cowboys!” 

Steve huffs a laugh at that and when you look at him he’s finally looking your way, eyebrows raised and pointing to one of the steaming cups in your hand. You hand it over, his long, bruised fingers brushing over yours during the exchange, and then offer the other cup to his partner. He doesn’t reach for it.

“Actually ma’am,” Peña says in a mock accent as he tips an invisible cowboy hat to you, “this ole cowboy has a late dinner date.” He grabs his jacket off the back of his chair, hastily shoves his arms into it, gives a wink to you, and heads out without another word.

“Don’t mind him,” Murphy says, “a ‘late dinner date’ is just code for hooker.”

Now it’s your turn to chuckle. Why isn’t he wearing his wedding ring tonight? Maybe he took it off earlier when he was washing the blood from his hands but… No, you don’t remember seeing it then either. You realize he’s looking at you, watching you stare at his fucking hands. He’s gotta know you like his hands, right? It’s not awkward. He’s gotta know.

“That looks painful,” you don’t look away from them. “Was it worth it?”

“I dunno yet,” he goes back to flipping through his papers. “Ask me tomorrow.”

Murphy’s little stunt earlier didn’t just mean his hands were a cut-up mess, it also meant he’d have pulled the short straw to finish the paperwork needed to try and sweep it under the rug. If all went well, and they’d put the right amount of money into the right people’s pockets, he could get away with having beat that snarky reporter’s face in and no one around here would be asking too many questions in the morning. It’s going to be a long night. 

You grab the papers off Peña’s desk, carry them to the far end of the office, not your normal desk, and begin typing up his notes into a formal report. Your normal desk was upstairs outside the Ambassador’s office, being one of his attachés meant you traveled with him in-country and helped during his posting at his discretion. You were one of his favorite attachés and that came with a lot of perks; always flying with him and his family in the private jet instead of slumming it in commercial, a plant-covered, sun-lit desk by the window, and always being trusted with the most confidential of orders. 

Unfortunately for you, lately, his orders had you spending long-nights with the feckless DEA agents trying to make orderly, lawful reports of their chaotic and illicit methods to catch the narcos. The ambassador trusted few else but you to spin their lawless nonsense into cohesive accounts with diplomatically-acceptable language. You knew your long hours were appreciated - by the Ambassador if by no one else - and you really didn’t have much of a life outside of work, so it wasn’t the worst problem to have. Besides, working late came with its own set of perks.

---

You’re not sure how much time has passed but as you wrap up typing Peña’s chicken-scratch, you look up to see if Murphy is anywhere close to being done only to find him not at his desk. You wait a few minutes and when he still hasn’t returned you get up and walk past it. His desk is more centrally located than the one you were using and from here you can see the whole office. The coffee cup sits empty, the ashtray overflowing, his coat hanging limply from his chair. But no Murphy. You walk towards the main entrance, pass the department secretary’s desk, call out his name, and receive no answer in return. 

Just as you’re about to turn and go back to your work, you see just a fraction of movement out of the corner of your eye. The blinds in Messina’s office just beyond the secretarial desk are all closed except the ones covering the window on the door, which are raised just a fraction. 

Is he? Again? He must like this more than you thought. 

You make your way to the DEA lead’s office door and test the knob - unlocked - just like you knew it would be. Pushing the door open slowly and flipping on the lights has you greeted with a groan. It’s Murphy, sitting on his boss’s leather office couch, cock in hand. 

“When we say you DEA boys do nothing but sit around all day with your dicks in your hands, this isn’t what we mean,” you tease. He doesn’t even try to cover himself, doesn’t make a move to hide what he’s doing. This is definitely part of it. He likes this. You’ll have to play your part. “What kind of a man has to jerk off at work? Things really that bad at home?” 

He groans again, and you watch his big right hand squeezing himself at the base of his thick cock. You’re not sure how long he’s been in here but he’s apparently just been edging himself, if the ruddy head and pearlescent beads leaking from his tip are any indication. Just based on the size of him you always thought he might have a respectable dick, but the fact that it still looks massive, even in his giant fucking hands, is even more impressive. 

“Sorry you had to catch me like this,” he grumbles, as if he didn’t orchestrate this entire scenario for that very reason. He hasn’t resumed touching himself, he just holds it - enormous and erect - like an obelisk of flesh. 

“I don’t think you are sorry, you filthy pervert.” You close the door behind you and walk to Messina’s desk, sitting on the edge of it facing him. “I think you fucking love getting caught with that big cock out, don’t you?”

He sucks air and squeezes even tighter as you watch the clear precum flowing out of his slit and running over his flushed head.

“C’mon, Murphy,” you begin to slowly unbutton your blouse. “You’d better get it over with before more people walk in here and see that big, fat cock of yours.”

Almost like he was waiting for your permission, he begins pumping himself, using the viscous liquid running down his shaft to lubricate his strokes. You untuck your blouse and pull it off completely, folding it next to you on the desk while you watch him - completely dressed - jerking off. Aside from his loosened tie thrown over his shoulder, he’s still wearing the same outfit he came to work in, not even the blood-spattered sleeves of his rumpled white dress shirt have been rolled up. Just like last time, and each time before that, the only skin he’s showing you are his hands, wrapped around his dick and balls. 

You pull your eyes away from what his hands are doing and make eye contact with him, seeing him break away to watch you undo your bra, letting it fall slowly down your arms to reveal your breasts to him. You set it next to you on the desk and sit back on your hands, sticking your chest to the sky. He doesn’t take his eyes off you when he speaks.

“Gonna take more than that, honey. Do it like last time.” And there it is, the first time he’s acknowledged that this is a repeat occurrence.

Like last time. You’d thought last time might have gone too far, thought maybe you’d scared him off, especially since it was weeks ago that it’d happened. But apparently not. Apparently it wasn’t too much. Apparently it was just enough… and he’s been thinking about it happening again.

You stand up off the desk, slowly pulling down on the zipper at the back of your skirt, letting your breasts push forwards while your hands work behind you. You watch as he licks his lips, tugging slowly up and down his shaft, gently squeezing his balls with his left hand. You pull your skirt down your legs, folding it and placing it with your other clothes next to you. You stick your fingers in the waistband of your pantyhose and underwear - the only clothes you have left on - and watch him slowly nod his head, eyes glued to your center, ready and waiting.

You slowly pull down your remaining garments, feeling the relative chill of the office air hitting your bare cunt as you bend forward. Once the hose is at your ankles you turn around to brace yourself on the desk, giving him the view you were just denying him. He moans, lowly. You bend forward, a hand on the desk, and slip off each shoe one by one, pulling the hose and your underwear over each foot. You finally stand to place them on the desk with everything else and then turn back to face the couch.

He’s slowed down so much his hand is barely moving now, just brushing languidly over the head of his cock, smearing the steady flow leaking out. You sit back on the desk and slowly, so slowly, spread your legs open. You hear him growl a yeahhh in response. “This what you wanted, Murphy?” You tease.

“You know what I want,” he whines through clenched teeth, “so give it to me.”

“I don’t think you’re in a position to give me orders, you fuckin’ creep,” you snap, knowing it goes straight to his cock by the way his left hand tightens on his balls.

You oblige him anyways, knowing you need this just as badly as he does at this point. You take the middle finger of your dominant hand and run it up and down your slit, lips parting easily since you’re already so wet. You’ve probably been wet since you noticed he wasn’t wearing his wedding ring earlier. Maybe the rumors about Connie leaving the country were true, maybe his marriage is actually over. So if that’s his excuse for being a horny pervert, what was yours?

You tease your finger over your hole, spreading your legs wider so he can see every slick movement you make. You drag your wetness up to your clit and part your folds with your other hand, drawing smooth circles around your sensitive bud. 

“You’d better hurry up, you disgusting deviant, because I’m leaving the second I come,” you command.

You don’t bother to wait for him to look you in the eye to measure your sincerity, you just increase the pace and pressure of your finger and throw your head back, moaning in ecstasy. You can hear him speed up his movements, can hear the sound of skin on skin schlocking quicker as he chases his release. Last time didn’t take long. Last time you got a few circles over your clit and he was coming all over his pale-yellow dress shirt. Last time you had to finish yourself at home, reduced to fantasizing about his cock while you cried out alone in your bed.

The thought has you changing course. Maybe you can actually come this time, if not before him at least the sound of his grunting orgasm could push you over the edge. It won’t be too much, right? He’s gonna get off - again - so why shouldn't you? You drag your fingers back to your hole, leaking wetness down your thighs. He makes a sharp intake of breath. Your head is still thrown back but he’s clearly watching you. You slowly insert two fingers, coating them with your wetness and then pumping them faster in and out.

The sounds of your fingers squelching in and out of your wet hole fill the room now, drowning out his pistoning hand and huffing breaths. It’s probably why you don’t hear him get off the couch, don’t hear him walk to the desk, don't hear him panting right in front of you. You don’t even know he’s there until the heat of his left hand is spanning across the inside of your thigh, halfway between your knee and your core.

You lift your head quickly, a sharp intake of breath instead of a scream, and see his nearly-black eyes watching your faltering hand with rapt attention.

“Can you fit a third?” he rasped. “I bet you can.” Your pussy clenches around your fingers.

You know a snappy quip wouldn’t go amiss but for some reason - with the heat of his hand matching the heat of his gaze - you can’t seem to get one past your lips. You drag your fingers out slowly and line up a third with the other two, already soaked and dripping. Steadily, you insert them back in your greedy hole as he squeezes your thigh - his massive grip taking up an obscene amount of real estate on your leg - and brings himself so close that you can feel his moving knuckles wafting cool air over your wet lips.

His dick is so fucking close. It would be so easy for him to just fucking stick it inside you. But he’s married. That’s what he’d made sure to say the first time… and the second. I’m married, as if it meant anything to you. Just help me out, he’d begged, and you were more than willing. Just a married guy needing a pretty, eager girl to look at. You’d been dreaming about Steve Murphy’s dick since he wore a tight pair of jeans his second week here, and you got a glimpse of the massive bulge he had hidden in them. Well, it was hard to hide, and now you know why.

But then you remember - eyes darting to his left hand, still hot on your skin - he’s not wearing his wedding ring. 

“You ever fuck a woman with that cock, Murphy? Or just your hand?”

The sound that comes out of his mouth can only be described as a whimper. He moves his hand up your thigh, closer to where you want it, and squeezes your flesh again. His fist is making practiced moves over his length, starting mid-shaft where his girth widens and pushing up over his crown with fluttering fingers. He’s giving himself pressure on the underside where he’s most sensitive, then gathering the constant stream spilling down his cockhead and over his knuckles, and spreading it out on his downstroke. You feel him press in closer, so close, his eyes not wavering from your fingers plunging in and out of your sopping hole. 

Then, it happens.

He’s moved so close that his knuckles graze along your spread lips, hitting right at your clit - four in a row - like the brief kiss of a vibrator. You almost scream. And Murphy notices. Oh, does he notice. Your movements have come to a halt, as have his, and you both wait to see what the other does next. A sly grin settles across his face.

“I thought you were in a hurry?” He taunts.

He pushes his left hand down into your thigh - spreading you open to your limit - and takes his right hand off his dick. He grabs your hand by the wrist, pulling your fingers out of you with a wet, suctioning noise. You watch him put your hand onto his dick, covering it with his much larger hand, and spread your own shocking wetness down and back up his shaft. He lets your hand go but before it can resume its place inside you, he’s closed the gap, pushing his pelvis forward, bouncing his cock against your hooded clit, causing you to twitch at the sensation. 

“You’d better hurry up and come, honey, before Javi comes back to see you spread eagle like this.”

“Fuck you,” you manage to choke, hating how he thinks he has the upper hand now.

He stops tapping his rounded head on your sensitive bud and instead rubs himself left to right, the change in movement hitting you like a lightning bolt. 

“You’d better come before I do, naughty girl,” he continues to tease, echoing your earlier demand.

“So give it to me,” you answer, echoing his. 

He pushes forward, cock held tightly in his fist, and fits his wide head into your hole, making you gasp. You brace for the rest of it - the stretch, the sting - but it never comes. You wiggle your hips, even tilt your pelvis towards him the little bit you can from your position on the desk, and all you feel is his fist hitting your sticky lips.

“Murphy.”

His stupid fucking grin. Hmmmm? He’s watching you struggle.

“Quit playing around,” you whine.

“Quit playin’ around,” he repeats. He lifts his dick upwards, popping it out of its shallow entry, then slowly lines it back up, bumping around clumsily - on purpose - before putting just the tip back inside you.

“Fuck you, Murphy,” you hiss.

“Fuck me?” He repeats the motion of popping himself out, poking around, and then giving you just a fraction of what you know he could be giving you.

“Fuck me, Murphy, fuck me.” You throw your head back as he goes through the motions a third time. “Please, Murphy. Please fuck me.”

He lines himself up again at your weeping hole, but this time you feel both of his hands grabbing at the meat of your hips. He pulls you down onto him and pushes himself up into you in equal measure, slowly but steadily filling you up. You hear him groaning, hear yourself whining, high-pitched and strung-out. You feel the sting, you feel the stretch, you feel the weight of him pressing into you until his pelvis bumps yours. You’re both watching where he’s disappeared into you, the silence stretching on.

“You ready for this big fuckin’ cock, honey?”

“I’ve had bigger,” you lie.

He pulls back quickly and slams forward into you, rocking the desk you lie on, and knocking over a cup of pencils. You both ignore them clattering onto the floor as he pounds into you relentlessly. The wet smacking noise of your bodies clapping together, the huffing groans coming out of both your mouths, the smell of sweat and sex and coffee. He fills you up so perfectly, hitting every place deep inside you that you never even knew existed. It’s so much better than it was in your fantasies. You reach down to touch your clit and this time it’s you that comes after only a few circles around it.

You can’t fucking help yourself. His bloody knuckles turned white with their tight grip at your hips, his furrowed brow and utter concentration - pupils blown large - staring at himself fucking your cunt, his grunts of pleasure as he finally finally gives you his fat fucking cock. You cry out his name, feeling yourself clench around his length, flooding him with your release, hearing the sounds change from lewd to obscene. And you watch his face go from focused to downright pained. 

He pulls himself out of you with a snarl and pumps his cock overtop you - coming immediately - white ropes covering your belly. He groans through it, continuing to cover you with a surprising amount, then leans over you and with his cock in hand, rubbing it into your skin with his dick. He rubs his cock back and forth, pumping it lazily, rubbing his sensitive head against your sticky skin and continuing to shudder from the overstimulation. Once he’s squeezed the last of his climax out, he steps back and tucks his dick away into his pants.

---

“Sorry again,” he mumbles, running his hand through his hair as you redress on shaky legs. “I really oughta stop doin’ this shit at work. It’s inappropriate, like you said.”

“Uh huhhh,” you answer, unconvinced. 

You wish you had it in you to continue this little charade but you’ve just orgasmed all over someone’s desk and your cock-drunk little mind is having difficulty making sense of anything right now. You reach down to slip on a shoe and although you were bracing yourself on the desk, you still begin to tip over. Murphy catches you with a gentle but firm grip, his huge hand curling around your arm and settling you upright. His hand remains holding you, the heat of it burning you through your blouse.

“Maybe next time we can just go to my place,” he purrs, meeting your surprised look with a wink.

.

.

.

Boyd Tax: handsssss

[aurumacadicus]

Oh oh oh!!! 37 or 73. Dealer’s choice.

Thanks!

I decided to be nice and went with 73 <3

--

"I am getting real tired of meeting you here," Tony said, and he looked just as long-suffering as he sounded when Steve looked up at him through the bars of his cell. "I'm also getting real tired of everyone but you calling me for help."

Steve opened his mouth, but he wasn't entirely certain what to say. He's called Tony for help the first time he'd gotten arrested, but Tony had looked so bewildered and... sort of offended when he'd arrived? Steve had decided he'd stop calling Tony and just call on his less judgemental teammates (Bruce was a no-go after the second time) to come bail him out. He had no idea why they, in turn, had called Tony up to take on his bail. He always offered to pay them back, and he always showed up for court.

Come to think of it, the judge was starting to look at him a lot like Tony was, Steve mused, rubbing his hand over his mouth to hide an amused smile.

"You know," Tony continued when Steve said nothing, and the smile dropped from his face when he realized he'd actually been waiting for a response. "I understand you're trying to... figure yourself out, or whatever Natasha said. I just wish--"

"I am not trying to figure myself out. I am punching neo-nazis," Steve corrected firmly. "I do not enjoy punching neo-nazis. In fact, I very much dislike the fact that there are neo-nazis to punch."

Tony pursed his lips, obviously unimpressed. "The pictures the Daily Bugle post show you looking quite happy to punch them. It looks a little unhinged actually and I am officially asking you to fucking cut it out for a month. I have a fundraiser for the Maria Stark Foundation and I don't want to spend the entire thing fielding questions about your disdain for the law."

"I've never been convicted of a crime," Steve began, drawing himself up in offense.

"You're Captain America. Who wants to convict Captain America of a crime when you punch a neo-nazi?" Tony retorted, crossing his arms over his chest. "Stop punching people. Find a different hobby. I hear bird watching and crossword puzzles are popular with your age group."

"I'm telling Natasha you think her crossword puzzles make her old," Steve tried again.

"Her gardening hobby makes her old too. Make sure you tell her I said that," Tony retorted, then stepped closer, pointing at him through the bars. "I'm telling you one last time before I put my foot up your ass, Steve. Do things that make you happy--within the confines of the legal system."

It took everything in him not to immediately answer 'no.' He thought Tony might actually break through the bars and murder him. "Okay."

Tony blinked at him, apparently having expected more argument. Steve normally would have given him one, but Tony had proved very protective over his mother's foundation and all the events it held. Steve didn't feel inclined to push his luck. Especially since he was inside the cell and Tony was not, and Tony could leave him here.

"...Okay," Tony finally agreed. He narrowed his eyes skeptically. Steve tried to look as innocent as possible and was rewarded with a sour, "Don't do that."

"Fine," Steve said, contrite expression dropping. "Can we leave?"

Tony continued to stare at him, considering. Finally, though, he huffed, rolling his eyes. "Fine. I sent your court date to Natasha since you broke your phone on someone's face. Please stop doing illegal shit until after the gala."

Steve sighed. "Fine. Can I take you out to coffee? That's not illegal anymore apparently."

Tony whipped around to stare at him again, aghast. Finally, he managed to bark a confused, "HUH?"

"You told me to find my happiness within legal confines," Steve reasoned. "Homosexuality was legalized in New York in the eighties. I looked it up."

Tony stared at him a little longer, then let out a reedy, overwhelmed laugh. "What are you talking about?!"

"Let's discuss it over coffee," Steve tried again, and then, "Or dinner? Whichever you prefer."

"Shut the fuck up," Tony laughed, rolling his eyes, and finally turned to leave. "I'll go tell the officer to let you out."

Steve watched him go, stunned. Then he crossed his arms over his chest with a huff. This was why he preferred punching neo-nazis. They, at least, knew what his intentions were. He could probably give Tony a 'will you go out with me? yes or yes' note and he'd just laugh and say he forgot to add 'no.'

[chishiyaisasnack]

It’s under my skirt, Doctor

Hello everyone! It’s been a while. I finally got this little thing together, and I hope you all like it.

Disclaimer! This is smut. Stay away if you aren’t of agw or if you’re uncomfortable with the topic. Remember to use protection in real life!

Written and posted on mobile, I apologize for any wierd formatting.

Chishiyas life was work. Long hours, sometimes so long that he didn’t leave the hospital before his next shift. The couch in his office had become soft from where he slept, countless days and nights spent there alone. Not that it mattered, not to him. He liked his job. Kind of. There was nothing else he wanted to do anyway, so filling his life with something that kept his brain occupied and evolving was good enough. Once he stopped caring about all the injustice he focused solely on performing surgeries. The heart was an interresting thing, so small, so powerful. One wrong move and a life could end. Sometimes he wondered what that would feel like. He would never play with a life like that, he wasn’t completely insane, but the thought had showed up once or twice.

This particular shift got his mood turning all over the place. Everyone was whiny, rude and just hard to deal with. Twelve hours of pretending to be respectful was hard enough on the good days.

When he got back to his office he sank down into the couch, contemplating buying new cushions soon because they were starting to get uncomfortable. He needed to get his mind cleared out, to stop thinking about work and kids and parents who he wanted to toss in the trashcan.

A vibration went off in his pocket, making his head hurt just thinking about what they would need him for now. He just wanted to rest. So, when he picked it up and saw the notification on his screen he got pleasently suprised.

Y/N: Hey, sorry to disturb your work but I have a medical issue that I wondered if you could take a look at? I can come over in 10 minutes if that works for you.

He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. Normal people didn’t use the words ”medical issue” as a synonym for ”I want to fuck” but it worked very well for the two of them. Chishiya had met her at a work gathering and that turned out to be the best stress reliever he could wish for, and he knew that she used him for that exact same reason. Some might say that they were dating, but the only times they really met in person was just for sex and maybe some lunch afterwards. Chishiya did spend occasional nights at her place since she lived closer to the hospital than he did, and getting his dick wet then sleep in a bed instead of his office couch was a nice change.

Ten minutes later the telltale three knocks on his office door woke him up from his thoughts. Trying not to run to the door in excitement, he stood up, took a deep breath and changed into his normal ’I don’t care about anything’-face before opening it. The ’not caring about anything’-face changed as soon as he saw what was on the other end of the doorframe. He was not prepared for her standing there, panties hanging from slender fingers on one of her hands and her head cocked to the side. The skirt she was wearing was short and flowy, almost revealing what was, or rather what wasn’t underneath it.

”Eager are we?” Chishiya welcomed her in a smug voice, trying to hide the mess his head was already in. She winked at him in response.

”You usually don’t have very long so I thought I’d be prepared.” She walked straight to him, put the underwear in the chest pocket of his white doctors coat and kicked the door closed behind her. Chishiya could hear the click from the lock but was more interrested in the cleavage that her ”too tight to be comfortable”-top was showing. He didn’t even try to hide that he liked what he saw. He knew she liked it. A finger under his chin woke him up from his thoughts and when he looked up he was met with sparkling eyes full of excitement when she gazed back into his.

”Hmm.. I like how professional you look in this outfit” she purred as she smoothed her hands up his chest until she reached his neck, hands tangling in the blonde strands in the back until his hair tie fell to the floor, one thumb tracing his ear. ”I’d let you examine me any day.”

Chishiya rolled his eyes at her attempt at flirting, but rather than giving her a comeback he reached in and put his hands on her bare thighs, inching further up while he kissed that lovely space between her neck and shoulder that made her whimper every time.

”So, what did you want me to take a look at?” Chishiya murmered teasingly into her ear. She hummed and moved her hands back down to his shoulders, gripping onto the neck of his coat.

”It’s under my skirt, Doctor.”

In one swift move she grabbed the stethoscope still hanging around his neck and pulled him with her until they both hit the wall behind her, before crashing her lips into his with urgency, and Chishiya returned it with just as much desire as he was given. It was intoxicating, her soft lips, the sweet smell of her perfume, her hands tugging at his hair trying to coax him closer.

His hands went from her thighs to her waist, with just a quick squeeze at her ass first, clenching his fingers in the fabric of her shirt, pulling her even closer so that she could feel that this was affecting him too. His cock was already getting hard, pushing uncomfortably against his pants, but her soft stomach gave great friction whenever she moaned and rubbed herself against him.

Trying to deepen the kiss, she slid her tounge against his lips, making him smile against her whine when he didn’t answer her attempt. He was the one calling the shots and he wanted her to remember that. Instead of giving her what she wanted he pried his lips away from hers and targeted her neck.

The sweet sounds she made whenever his lips caressed her made his head spin. He couldn’t keep his hands still any longer and torturously slow started to inch them up the skin under her top, feeling the way she moved under them, how she was shivering against his touch and how her lungs moved with every heated breath that left her. He knew that undressing her probably wasn’t the best idea in case someone managed to interrupt them, but when he felt her breast under his palms, so soft and squeazable and utterly wonderful to nibble at, his desire to put his face between them took over his rationality. So, after he sucked down on the skin on her shoulder - and grinned at the sour moan she made - he pulled her top off and started his descent down her body. Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard the thump that her head made when she threw it back against the wall but he was far more interrested in the goosebumps that spread under the line he licked down her collarbone. When he finally moved his mouth over her nipple he felt a hand grip his shoulder with a strenght that was sure to leave a mark.

The noises she made went straight to Chishiyas cock. His mind was so clouded by the need to be inside her that he was having trouble keeping his teasing facade in check. Nestling his face in her chest did ground him a bit though, it was the whines that followed it that made him throb in his pants.

”Fuck, Chishiya… lower please” she begged, shivering when he swept his tounge over her other nipple. The gentle squeeze from his other hand earned him another whimper - and a fist in his hair trying to push him further down. He complied with a quiet laugh, loving how aroused she was from just this. Not that he had anything to say about that, he was aching just as bad as she was.

He didn’t bother to take her skirt off, he just held it up with one hand while running the other up her inner thigh, slow and steady so that he could hear her quiet complaints that he took too long.

”Hold it” he commanded, looking at her and then the skirt, nodding towards it to make his point. A shaky hand took a hold of the hem of the skirt and he shifted his focus back to her soft thighs, leading up to her glistening center that he couldn’t wait to be inside. He couldn’t help himself and squeezed the inside of her thigh, thinking about how great it would feel to have them wrapped around him - then laughed at her impatient grunt before giving in and giving her what she asked for.

With one hand he hiked her leg over his shoulder and then he dove in and let his tounge spread her open, loving the wetness he was met with. A cascade of ’yes’-es fell from her mouth as she rolled her hips in time with his tounges movements. A long lick between the folds, flicking over the clit, sucking, kissing, circling… he knew exactly what she liked and he gave it to her. Every time her moans got a little louder he slowed down, dragging out the sensation (and pissing her off just a little just because he could). It was his favourite leisure activity and he could go for hours if he had the time. Unfortunately he didn’t and with a last lick he stopped, her disappointed groan chiming like music in his ears.

He rose to his feet, one hand still lingering on her thigh, the other moving a strand of hair from her face that was so lovely and flushed from desire. There was a hint of irritation from the way her eyebrows scrunched together, but it disappeared when he used the same hand that he just caressed her cheek with to draw a line along her pussy, wet and warm, and so inviting, making her squirm under his touch.

”I want to take my time with you but we’re in a bit of a hurry,” he reminded her. ”Come here.”

Chishiya started walking towards the couch, sat down and patted his lap as an invitation for her to sit.

”I’m tired and have been working all day,” Chishiya playfully told her, watching her eyes roll as she walked towards him, which made him chuckle. He enjoyed how obvious she was with everything and that she didn’t take any of his shit. She was strong and powerful and he wouldn’t have a chance against her wits if she wanted to ruin him. And he didn’t want it any other way.

”You need a new couch” she complained while straddling his lap, knees sinking down too far and throwing off her balance before she put her hands on his shoulder and shuffled her way forward to hover over his length.

”But I really like my couch” he lied, lazily putting his hands on her waist to pretend to help her.

”Sure you do. Take off your pants, or are you too tired to do that to, Doctor?”

For once he hurried, mostly because his dick was aching and he couldn’t wait for it to be inside her. So he moved his pants and boxers out of the way, enough to release his cock. She didn’t waste a second and sank down onto it right away.

Both of them moaned, her from finally being filled and him from finally being hugged by her warm, wet walls. When she started to move, riding him nice and deep, he couldn’t help himself and let his head fall back so he could watch her face as she fucked herself on him.

”Fuck, I’ve been needing this” he groaned as she took him in, Chishiya pushing as far in as he could to savour that warm and tight feeling that her insides gave him. ”You feel so good.”

”Fuck…” was the only answer he got, but it sounded perfect. Breathless and broken, turning into another moan when his cock hit her sweet spot again.

She rode him deep and fast, her wet walls stroking his cock in rhythm with her movements. Desperate to feel more of it, he bucked up into her to bury himself as deep as he could. Her hands was on his shoulders, nails digging deep into his white coat.

Chishiyas hands were everywhere, grabbing her ass hard as she bounced on his lap, sliding up her waist when he went back to rolling her hips, cupping her breasts when he took over and fucked her from below. The bliss on her face drove him on, making him thrust harder and angling his hips so that he hit that spongy spot inside her with every thrust. He could feel her getting close, her insides tightening and clamping down around his cock, stroking the life out of him with it. He wouldn’t last much longer either - he needed her to come so that he could join her. So he slid a hand down to her center, putting two fingers on her clit and started to circle it in time with his thrusts. The loud groan she let out at the sensation made the fire in his stomach grow even more and, fuck, he needed her to orgasm.

”Y/N, come for me,” he hissed and pressed down harder on her clit. ”Fuck, come on my cock.”

And so she did. With a rough moan into his neck he felt her walls clamping down on his cock, so fucking tight, before convulsing around him. Maybe he should have stopped and let her catch her breath but his hips moved at their own will now. He fucked her with desperation, each thrust bringing him closer, until he emptied himself deep inside her. She moaned as he did, rocking her hips to stimulate him more until his cock had stopped twitching.

Chishiyas hands landed on her waist again, this time drawing soft circles on her skin, making her shiver under his touch. Her breath was warm against his neck when she nuzzled her face there. He let her rest on him, he was too satisfied to move anyway. They sat like that until both their breathing had calmed down, and until he had gone soft enough to slip out of - although he didn’t want to. She felt too good. But even he wasn’t able to control his body that much. He had tried.

When she moved it was with shaky legs, tired from overworking them on that dumb couch. He smirked as he helped her up onto her feet, casting a glance on the clock hanging on the wall above his desk. There were still time to have some more fun, and even if his dick was tired, his tounge wasn’t. Standing up next to her he bent in, moved a strand of her hair away from her face, and softly spoke into her ear.

”So, is there anything else you want me to examine?”

[kingkenzieofmold]

The Jewelled Maverick AU: ‘Pink Starlight’ Ashley Jang

Hi, I have a habit of yoinking other peoples characters and making them into Alternate Versions of themselves. I have created many and have gotten the green light to show off and talk about! This is my Role Swap AU that I made with @mai-mai-lim characters! Ashley Jang and Henry Stickmin [Min Seung-Jae] have Swapped Roles.

Mentioned Characters belong to Respective Creators: Brutus - @smoresthehalloweenqueen Cameron Copperbottom - @rarestdoge

Ashley went on to be a Dazzling Thief Named ‘Pink Starlight’ or ‘Starlight’. She failed at breaking into the bank and was arrested. It took her too long to pick pocket a guard of a phone but she eventually lawyer up!

She heard about the diamond and was not about to fail again. looking into it she discovered the Toppats Plans to steal it and executed the plans before they could. Successfully stealing the diamond and picking up a Mary Popins bag from the museum old movies section.

The government impressed kidnapped her to inflate the airship. Offering her to pardon of her crimes, which is rude cause she worked hard on her criminal record and instead asked them to add more crimes after she done. She gets onto the airship pure blood thief and private Investigator style, heading to the records room she meets Brutus and they have awkward moment. Ashley disguised as a Toppat gets Brutus to help her find a file on the newest heist. He does and she has her file for Galeforce.

Eventually she makes her way to the cells which lead to the vault room. As she wants to rob the Toppat of their Ruby on top of their files. She kidnaps Dave by lock picking his cell and making him get into her Mary Popin’s bag of holding. Fiddling with the door, she can’t get it open and ops for the vents.

She in counters Cameron on the way and after some convincing they head to the vault. Cameron who is really suspicious of her is ready for if she try’s anything. Ashley tricks him and lipstick tasers him, yoinking the ruby making a get away. You see, Ashely did grab the headset for PI. She just never put it on but now in the dark photo room she does. Charles is asking and Galeforce is demanding what’s happening she explains that she needs a distraction and ask if Charles can hack into speaker.

He can and so she makes her move. Heading to the Cargo bay she encounters Cameron again pissed the fuck off and ready to kill her. Speaker hacked they end up in a Friday Night Funkin’ inspired battle. Ashley ends up winning and dipping out of the cargo bay doors. The files she grab were not the correct ones but she did kidnap Dave and handed him over to the government as a witness.

Of course the add crimes made her a prime Wall target and she gets captured by them. Without her bag she has no way of getting out just yet.

In the background between Infiltrating the Airship and Fleeing the Complex both Ashley and Cameron developed a rivalry to have as many articles written about them in comparison to the other. They are determine to be the better thief and have been creating elaborate heists. Sabotage each other’s heists and Cameron has been trying to learn ‘Pink Starlights’ Identity as he doesn’t know it yet.

When Ashley is captured by the Wall it is posted all over the News ruining Camerons mood, so he spends a week planing a heist to break into the wall and Rescue all the Toppats there. Brutus has to convince him not to bust in and they sneak into the facility. They get to the control panel of all the cells and Cameron being impatient key smashes the panel, freeing everyone including Ashely.

Running out of her cell she find the room where her bag is being stored and cartoon style climbs in and charges into her normal thief outfit. Running to the exit she is in a western face off against Cameron and the Toppats. About to have a face off, to which Brutus interrupts and yells at them that they have to do that later cause the Wall is about to be on their asses. Ashley and Cameron give each other the ‘I get you next time’ look before awkwardly exited out the same doors.

The Toppats make their escape towards there stole truck before Brutus gets grabbed by Dimitri, Cameron flipping off Dimitri distracts him and they get away. Cameron about to enter the trucks get pulled out by Dimitri, who is pissed the fuck off by Cameron. Ashely seeing this is not letting it slide and drives up on the motorbike slamming Dimitri with a roundabout sign. Silence before Ashely and Camron start arguing again before Brutus grabs him again and forces him into the truck. Ashley drives out to the small bar and ask Charles for a pick up leading us into Completing the Mission.

The space station launch site is a battle felid when Charles and Ashely arrive. Fighting their way through the chaos they mange to make it to the Space Station just as Cameron Launches it into the air. Managing to grab hook her way onto the cargo bay she climbs in. Charles yelling into her ear that she is going to high altitude and to abort mission looking into the cargo bay determined. She see him.

Seung-Jae, her cousin, who she has not talked to for nine years.

“Ashley?” He whispered unsure whether it’s her or not.

“actually, its Starlight now.” Smiling she jumps from the cargo bay doors pulling out an umbrella and floating down grabbing onto Charles Helicopter rails. Upon Climbing in Charles asks her what happened and she smiles a wide sly grin.

“meet an old acquaintance again.”

On the cargo bay Seung-Jae is stunned not expecting to see his cousin after everything. Brutus in the background looks startled at the realization that Henry Stickmin Knows who ‘Starlight’ actually is. This changes everything.

I hoped you enjoyed my little role swap AU I made from my friend’s characters. I have some more but want to wait to ensure I get the green light on them! I had to leave out a lot of details, as this was meant to be a synopsis. Still ended up way too long so if you made it this far… Hi! I wish you a wonderful day and hope you enjoyed!<3

Any further questions ask maimai please!

Bonus Art

✨Sly Starlight Emote✨

[river3000]

An overview of Rachel Elizabeth Dare’s hair, and her hairbrush (and why the hairbrush should be appreciated more)

I’ve seen lots of people saying that Rachel bringing a hairbrush is unrealistic, and people with WAVY hair (which is way different from curly hair) saying it's unrealistic too, so this post is telling them why they’re wrong. So I LOVE Rachel, not just because she looks like me (same pasty, easily sunburned skin, and plethora of freckles; her poor bank account, spending so much on sunscreen), but also because I relate to her so much! One reason I relate to her is that HER HAIR LOOKS EXACTLY LIKE MINE, HER OFFICIAL ART HAIR LOOKS EXACTLY LIKE MY HAIR, way too curly, way too frizzy, and easily tangled. So, for all the straight-haired people reading this (also I will be showing this to all my friends, all of whom have straight or wavy hair, except one of them has two waves down the back of her hair and is delusional because she thinks her hair is curly) this is my hair brushing routine and other things about my hair so you understand what I mean when I say that taking care of hair like that is HARD:

I take a shower and use curly hair-specific shampoo (which is expensive)

I also do a wash-out untangle thing to make it easier to brush

I use curly hair-specific conditioner, a detangling spray, and two hair mask things to make the brushing easier

I use either a WET brush or a detangling brush, but usually the WET brush

I keep a spray bottle on hand to keep it wet the whole time

It takes at least 30-45 minutes for me to brush my hair

I wash my hair out again to get the conditioner and hair masks out

I use a wide tooth comb after that because water makes it a little tangled

Sometimes after that, I use a leave-in conditioner, but not often

If I brushed it for a fancy event or something then I use my diffuser to dry it, if not I braid it and go to bed because I take night showers unless it's a fancy event or sometimes a weekend

I sleep in a silk bonnet and use only a silk pillowcase

I can only brush my hair wet

I can’t run my fingers through it a lot

I have to go to a haircut place that specializes in curly hair

I can't brush it in the morning or casually

I brush it every three days because I can’t get it wet lots because that's bad for it

To get the Frizz™ that’s on the top of my head every morning to calm down when I put it up I wet it with my sink water

The only hair ties I can use in my hair on a normal basis are scrunchies

I only wear my hair down the day after or after I brush my hair

I wear it up every day

My friends can't do my hair a lot of the time unless I instruct them or find a tutorial video of a style of curly hair like mine, and they call me controlling when I do that

My friends with wavy hair say that wavy hair is harder to take care of than curly hair and I hate it because they don’t know what they’re talking about

If I don’t brush my hair it all becomes one giant matt on the back of my head and if that goes on too long it becomes painful and I get a scalp rash

Buying products is an expensive necessity

One I hadn’t brushed my hair for a week and when I took it down to redo my bun my friend looked at me in Horror™

Only one of my friends actually puts in the work to do my hair and helps me with it because she enjoys styling it and understands it’s hard to take care of after helping me brush it a few times, surprise surprise she’s my best friend

No hair clips, they get stuck in my hair

Once I was brushing it and my hairbrush just broke in half

I have an undercut that you can’t see with my hair down, just to make it easier to deal with; it’s an inch-or-half-an-inch-idk-which-one-thick, inch tall stripe that’s right above the back of my neck, at the base of my skull

I shed like a fucking dog

My hair also becomes so frizzy it looks like I brushed it dry when it's humid, and I live in a humid and hot place

Ginger hair makes you sunburn easier (and unable to tan)

I got bullied in school for being ginger because there’s something wrong with that in the minds of middle schoolers (I was also bullied for being gay and not ashamed of being queer but that’s not the point)

I would be called a leprechaun a lot as a kid, Saint Patrick's Day was and still is hell

Every time someone with straight hair complains about their hair being frizzy, I die a little more inside

Being pale an ginger, doing makeup, dying hair, and literally buying clothes is hard

especially makeup

I use the palest concealer they have at Target (it's called porcelain)

That’s all I can think of right now but I know there’s more. It’s entirely realistic that Rachel would bring a hairbrush because she has experienced all of this, and all of this started to happen to me when I was years younger than her. I said that I couldn’t brush my hair dry and Rachel could have had to, or maybe she would have waited for a part of the labyrinth with water to wet it and then brushed it, or had Percy use his water powers to wet it (Platonic Perachel is amazing, and I need more of it, they’re one of my fav brotps). So anyways guys, respect Rachel and stop questioning her hairbrush, they were in the labyrinth for a while, she needed that thing and it had done its fair share of service. That hairbrush has done more than being thrown at Kronos' eye.

[bigshotspambot]

I wanted to do a redraw of the first drawing I posted here… I can’t thank you you all enough for so much love and support :) I guess I’ll just go on about everything here …

TLDR: You’ve all made me so much happier and I appreciate you so much 💕I hope I’ve made you all a bit happier too…! ALSO THANK YOU FOR SPREADING SNEO LOVE !!!! HE LOVES YOU !!!!!

(Also this isn’t the end I just wanted to make a long ass thank you post 😁)

Last year I can’t even describe how self conscious this whole “finding out I had feelings for Sneo” thing made me. I know that it is VERY SILLY to say but it was confusing because I thought I only liked girls. That maybe started to lead to an identity crisis? If that’s the right word?? I also felt really ashamed for some reason, I think I internalized a lot of stuff. I was also horribly paranoid of people I knew finding out I liked this Thing a Non-Normal amount and thinking I was weird for it.

When I made this blog it was a decision I thought about a lot. I eventually went through with it cuz I REALLY wanted to see more x reader content with SNEO, and I was hoping other people wanted that too. So after posting this stuff and seeing people actually liked it, I was filled with both excitement and regret. (Regret because it was embarrassing that anybody saw it) but it was also so exciting because I wanted people to know they weren’t alone in how they felt. For me it’s so validating to know people feel the same (especially about a weird crush lol) and I wanted to spread that :]

I can’t say how much the first asks I got meant to me, especially the supportive ones, they were just so sweet. I could probably go on about this for an unreasonably long time so I’ll try to keep it short- after so much support (and a lot of freaking out) this all eventually helped me accept myself and made me more confident and happy.

It took months though, and it’s still an ongoing process… but I am confident in saying that I’m so, so much happier right now than I was last year :) and it’s because of you!!!

I know this is really cheesy but you guys mean the world to me and you’ve helped me so much, I hope this content has helped you feel more comfortable and understood too 💖I love interacting with you guys. It makes me so happy reading the tags in reblogs, replies, or even seeing the super nice drawings of my Sneo design 🥺 the idea of anybody spending their time to like or reply or even make something for me is just so incredibly kind. The numbers have started to boggle my mind and it’s hard to express how much it means to me, but it genuinely means the world :)

(Again I could go into a lot more detail, but I’m not great with summarizing, and I don’t wanna make this into another horribly long post that goes straight to drafts cuz i couldn’t finish it LOL)

Also one final note FUCK CRINGE CULTURE ‼️CRINGE CULTURE IS DEAAAAADDD GO BE CRINGE AND WEIRD AND CRAZY AND HAVE FUN AND BE PASSIONATE ABOUT WHAT YOU DO BECAUSE YOU CANNOT BE STOPPED‼️‼️ this is the path to enlightenment

[cowgurrrl]

Love the writing! Could I get one where Joel is on your and the twins are still really tiny and oc!actress is having a really hard time and has to go home, I don’t know something really angsty and also just fluff at the end of him being a girl dad and loving his 2 little beans.

Love You

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

Author’s note: sorry this took so long!!

Summary: Combining these two asks!! [1.5k]

Warnings: weird Hollywood questions, brief brief brief talks of body image, PPA if you squint, people on twitter being The Worst, Joel being The Best, I think that’s it!!

You weren't supposed to be working. Then again, you were still supposed to be pregnant. You normally wouldn't pick up new projects or anything super intensive until the twins were at least two years old, but you signed on for this interview two months ago when you didn't think you'd go into labor quite so early. But now you've got one-month-old twins at home and a mandatory event. Sierra would've happily called out of it on your behalf, but Joel told you it was okay if you wanted to go. You hadn't done much except focus on the twins since they were born, and he knew how much you loved to talk about your work— especially since this interview was for the anniversary of one of your first and most well-loved projects, Sweet Water. Carolina will be there too, and it’ll last two hours at most. 

"Go. I can handle this." Joel reassured you. Still, when you went to leave, you cried and repeated instructions for the umpteenth time, even though Joel knows their schedules and habits as well as you. You got kisses from Sam and Joel before walking out the door and doing your best not to turn right around and come back. It's only a few hours, you remind yourself. Nothing catastrophic will happen in a few hours.

You fight your anxiety to constantly check your phone for an update from Joel as Alexa does your makeup. She asks how you're feeling post-partum, how the kids are, and makes a point to tell you how good you look for just having twins. You're not sure if she's laying it on thick because she can clearly see you're frantic, but you appreciate the compliments, nevertheless. As you're walking to set, your phone buzzes with a picture of Sam snuggling up to the girls with a long text about how many ounces the girls drank and what Sammy had for lunch. 

Now, we're watching Frozen 2 for the thirtieth time.

Thank you. Hopefully, I'll be home before the rock giants.

No rush, Mama. We'll see you whenever you get home.

I love you.

Love you too.

Reluctantly, you slide your phone into your pocket as PAs rush around to get everything set up, and the interviewer enters the room. He's an older guy you recognize from many other documentary-style interviews, and you smile as you shake his hand and introduce yourself.  

"It's so nice to meet you. I've heard so many good things." He says, and you laugh. "I've also heard you just had twins."

"Oh, yes. Twin girls about a month ago." You say.

"Congratulations," the reporter says. "Who's watching them today?" He asks. The question takes you back a little bit. Who the fuck does he think is watching your kids?

"My husband, Joel. He's at home with our toddler and the twins."

"Oh, poor dad! Stuck babysitting." He laments, and you scoff, glancing around to see if anybody else is hearing what you're hearing.

"I don't know if it's babysitting when they're also his children, but he was very excited about spending time with them." You say, plastering a smile on your face despite the annoyance bubbling under the surface of your skin. 

"Right. Of course." He says, but his tone makes it sound more like if you say so. You try to brush it off as just old, stupid ideas about parenting and the role fathers take when caring for their kids, but once the cameras start rolling and the questions start coming, all the questions are around the same lines. How did you physically prepare for the role of the young nurse you played in Sweet Water? What were your thoughts when you read about Alex and Griffin's relationship? How old were you when you played Alex? What was it like filming the scenes where you were exposed before the time of intimacy coordinators? 

The questions made your head spin. None of them had anything to do with Alex's character development, what she meant to you, and how her relationships with other women helped you form life-long friendships. They're all bathed in misogynistic prying and thoughts about your twenty-four-year-old body. You smile and redirect where you can, but the whole thing makes you feel gross and invalidated. The second you're done, you meet up with Carolina in the hallway to warn her, and she rolls her eyes before going in. 

As you walk out to your car, you open your phone to text Joel that you're on your way home when a headline from Twitter catches your eye. Your name is in the title, followed by "seen out working one month after giving birth to premature twins. Sparks debate about parenting." Normally, you're not one to doom scroll on the internet, but you can't look away from the thousands of people judging you for leaving your kids at home. Two hours. You were gone for two hours while your husband and the father of your children watched them, but to strangers, you're a vile, evil person who doesn't deserve those sweet babies. Many tweets focus on the fact that the twins were premature. They were if you're looking at typical, singleton pregnancies, but for twins, they were right on time. 

You know it's all stupid and untrue, but you also haven't slept more than four hours a night since Sam was born, and you just went through one of the worst interview experiences of your life, and you miss your kids. You cry the whole way home, your therapized brain and your anxiety brain battling it out the entire drive. Joel doesn't think you're a terrible mom. These past few months, he's done nothing but care for you, and remind you that you're doing amazing and he loves you. So, why can't you focus on that instead of strangers on the internet? You go through the gambit of emotions, and you're completely exhausted when you pull into your driveway.

As soundlessly as possible, you unlock your front door, and Daisy greets you as you step over the threshold. It’s surprisingly quiet. You crouch down and scratch behind her ears, making her close her eyes in contentment, and you laugh. You look behind her, half-expecting Sammy to be barreling right toward you like he always does when you get home but see nothing. "Where is everybody?" You ask her as you kiss her big head and walk into the living room. 

There, spread across the huge couch, is your family. Joel has the girls snuggled to his chest and Sam tucked under his arm as Frozen 2 plays softly on the TV. All three of them are sleeping, but Joel, ever the watchful dad, is awake. Barely, but he's awake. He's wearing his glasses and a half-buttoned-up shirt. You'd be surprised if he even looked at a hairbrush today, let alone used one considering how messy his hair is. He smiles when he catches you staring and beckons you over with a jut of his chin, careful not to wake any sleeping babies. You take a shaky breath as you walk over. Joel's brows knit together when he sees your flushed face up close. "What happened?" He whispers as you kiss him. You don't answer immediately. Instead, you lean down and kiss the girls and Sammy's head before perching on the edge of the couch near Joel's socked feet. 

"Bad day." You mumble. His hand twitches to reach for you but Sophia shifts in protest. He sends you a sympathetic look and points his foot at you.

"I can't hold your hand, but you can hold this." 

"Joel, I love you, but I'm not holding your nasty ass foot."

"Rude." He says, and you smile. "Do you wanna talk bout your bad day?" 

"When there aren't three sleeping time bombs attached to your body." You say, reaching out to run your fingers through Sammy's hair. He sighs in his sleep and cuddles into Joel, making your heart jump. When you look closer at how they're tangled up, you almost start crying again. Sam is tucked between Joel and a pillow, but his right hand holds Sophia's foot, and Violet and Sophia hold hands as they sleep peacefully under Joel's chin— a perfect Miller cuddle. 

"Is there anythin' I can do to help?" He asks quietly, and you shake your head. Your entire day melts away as you stare at your precious family, and even though he had no way of knowing about your day, Joel gave you the gift of coming home to your favorite sight. 

"This is perfect." You say, and he smiles. You cuddle up on the opposite end of the couch, somehow intertwining your legs, and catch the last ten minutes of Frozen before falling asleep too. Later, Joel will cook you dinner, and you'll do bathtime and get the kids to bed as a team. You'll check in with Sarah and Ellie and tell him about your horrible day. He'll hold you close and reassure you, and you'll feel better. But right now, a nap is the perfect thing you need to regulate your emotions, and you fall deeper in love with him for letting you sleep. Because as the years go by and your marriage changes, as do both of you, he still finds a way to read you better than you could ever read yourself.

And you can't imagine a better person to share your life with.

[heich0e]

BACKGROUNDER - the one that got away!kuroo

note: hello!! if you're seeing this post, you probably clicked through from this fic, and if not... well that's ur own journey <3 this is a collection of posts from my #the one that got away!kuroo universe, which offer context to the main story but aren't strictly necessary—like... further readings, i guess. i contemplated how best to direct people here, and in order for you to most easily access this info, i settled for this post!! under the cut are all of the asks/text posts that ultimately culminated in the full fic, arranged in chronological order for your viewing convenience:

original text post: not to kill the vibe but kuroo tetsuro does give me big 'guy who isn't ready for marriage but then gets married to the first girlfriend he has after the two of you break up' energy for reasons i cannot quite put my finger on

> n to rub salt into the wound, you thought for sure you and kuroo would marry

you didn't think the breakup would stick. you always thought—or hoped, maybe—that the two of you would find your way back to each other when the time was right. but not even two years later (which feels so SOON, even though it isn't really) you see that he's engaged to a girl—a perfectly nice, normal girl, that you can't even bring yourself to hate because you know all too well what it's like to be in love with tetsuro. know what it's like to want a future with him. and you can't blame her for it, even if you resent her for being the one who gets it.

> after the wedding who do you go with? are you drunk out of your mind

you aren't invited. that stings. but you think it might have been worse if you did end up getting one of those beautiful, unnecessarily elaborate invitations in the mail. 

you run into kuroo a few months before the ceremony at a mutual friend's birthday party. end up talking. the wedding comes up accidentally more than anything—maybe someone else mentions it, maybe you ask, maybe he tells you like he's repenting for a sin he didn't commit—and he stumbles through an unbearably awkward explanation (that he doesn't even owe you) as to why you weren't invited. but you know even if he says it in nicer, easier to swallow words, gilded with white lies: it would be weird. it would be wrong. it wouldn't be fair to anyone. not to him, or to you, or to her.

you get drunk the night of the wedding and hook up with the guy you've been fucking for the past few months, who you're pretty sure doesn't even know what you do for work even though you've told him multiple times. all your friends are dressed up and celebrating, and you're throwing up in the hotel bathroom by 2am while the guy sleeps in the bed a room away—completely, blissfully unaware of what's happening on the other side of the wall, let alone at a glittering venue across town.

you envy him for it.

> does kuroo still love reader? does he love her?

he does still love reader AND love his fiance too. maybe in different ways. maybe his love for reader is like guilt. maybe his love for his soon-to-be wife is more like atonement. i don't think it took kuroo very long to realize what he did to you was, well, sort of cruel. i think he regrets it deeply and thinks about it often. in a fucked up sort of way it makes him better to his new partner, because he doesn't want to hurt someone like that again because of his own immaturity. it's unfortunate, but it's like she gets to reap all the benefits of the growth he experiences at your expense.

> Will it ever get better for you after kuroos wedding

of course it will. that's the really weird thing about heartbreak: life just keeps going. you feel like your heart has been cleaved out of your chest, but then you just... go to work. you do your laundry. you read a new book that becomes an all time favourite. you spend time with your friends and family. you go on dates. you learn all the lyrics to new songs. you celebrate holidays and birthdays. and one day you realize it's been years and you're in a totally different part of your life now, and the boy you thought would one day be holding your hand on your deathbed doesn't even know what the inside of your new apartment looks like. and you don't know what his looks like, either. and it's still sad, and hard sometimes, but all you can do is keep going. keep trying to find new happiness even if it's not the one you wanted. and hope that somewhere out there he has a new favourite book too. 

> think of Kai who was secretly pining for you during your relationship with Kuroo. Yet, he still doesn't have it in him to confess his feelings. So, he does the next best thing: he becomes your booty call. But when you slip during one of your hook-ups--when you moan Kuroo's name--he realizes it would never work out between the two of you. Your heart is so full of Kuroo that there's no room for him.

kuroo is so beloved by the people around him that i don't think there's a friend in his life who would EVER betray him like that—even if they did have feelings for you. even more than that, a lot of the friends that he introduced you to during your relationship (who you got close to) seem to grow distant after the breakup. even though it was his fault, really. even though you were their friend too. they just seem to naturally gravitate back to him, like belongings that are divvied up after a divorce. and there's no hard feelings. they don't dislike you, or even do it consciously, it just... happens.

you do definitely call out tetsuro's name when you're hooking up with other people though. it never ends well.

> sorry if u’ve already answered this but how long did kuroo and reader date?

they met in high school, and always had little crushes on each other but it never went anywhere. kuroo FINALLY confessed at graduation (he tried to be rly smooth like the shoujo protag he isn't and almost botched it) and they started dating at 18. they dated for a little over 5 years. broke up at 23. kuroo stayed single for a while before he started dating his (eventual) wife, and they got married at around 26. reader moved away from Tokyo when she was 28-29. and reader and kuroo are both in their mid-to-late 30s when the fic opens!!

[xinnabon]

FIRST DATE W/ ...

# 5WIRL xiao , heizou , venti , kazuha , and aether x gn!reader

cw !! swearing, mentions of kicking a vending machine

please do consider checking out my blog account! i am also taking in requests and it will be gladly appreciated from you to read my pinned post & request in! i'd love to see what you're up for.

a/n: it's just how you and them go out to a date with the location indicated and do all the things you'll ever do together. i think i've been spending about this for at least almost 3 hours now. i'm still not that original with themes or putting up aesthetics in my writing. there's a "don't judge a book by it's cover" for a reason. also, i used some sort of fake text app too because the text wouldn't go as planned in mobile form or so lol.

+XIAO

#1. ever since you asked him on a date, he probably didn't know it was a date in the first place and thought, it was just a friendly meet up.

#2. when he noticed that it was a date, he knew he fucked up. thought you just dressed up pretty well just not to disappoint but really it was all for a date? with his changed clothes from IDOL PRACTICE UNIT 5WIRL, definitely didn't try to impress.

#3. no. it's fine. at least it isn't some fancy place at the 13th floor of a really high and not to mention expensive building owned by some rich businessman or whatever. a normal convenience store. buy a few snacks and ice creams or honestly, whatever.

#4. he loved liked you taking him on a date without him knowing that it really was. you sneaked in a few lies to get him convinced to go with you but i'd say, it was pretty fun half awkward for a bit around just you two together.

#5. after a whole unexpecting date with the two of you, he didn't manage to pay the bill since you insisted yourself to do so, he just got you a cab and payed and bid goodbye.

"i uh... had fun today. i'll be making it up to you next time."

"so. there's a next time?"

"well... if you want."

next time he took you out to a date, he really did outdone himself.

+HEIZOU

#1. definitely those people who asks a lot of questions. hopefully he doesn't ask questions that take to a personal level.

#2. i think you two will hit up at the mall and go on a shopping spree. he pays for what you want, you pay for what he wants. fair enough to the both of you.

#2.0. i can imagine heizou trying out very fashionable clothing on with a few flashes as he appear in each sort of clothing he picked out.

#3. after a few running around in the malls, you two settle down at a table with your nice starbucks beverages. talking about interests, theories from heizou he thinks of that can't seem to get off his head, anything. as long as you two are well-entertained and relaxed with each other.

#4. so, about the starbucks beverages... he told you that something was going on around one of the shops, saying that you should do a favor for him and check it out. when you went out, he hurriedly asked the cashier to put a small note in the cups. at least some sort of small motivation quotes or hints that he's starting to take interest upon you.

#5. when you noticed while drinking your drink, you definitely couldn't stop smiling. he noticed but pretended he didn't know what you were talking about. it was cute.

"the note, heizou! the fucking note! i'm sure you asked to add a note while i was away!"

"oh? i don't think i added that there!"

+VENTI

#1. you guys go out in one of the arcade games in some place. pretty much keeps the conversation running and take on every single game there was in the place.

#2. you two might go to one of those dancing machines. he might be singing out to some of the songs. he definitely pushes you on to the machine just to dance together. take it as that one scene in the karate kid. HA.

#3. so many stuffed toys and other prizes he got from a single claw machine. how does he do it?

#4. you guys definitely buy so much in the prizes using your tickets. nah. you have too many stuffed toys. why not nerf guns for a change? yet a chaotic answer.

#5. after all that chaos you two have been. popping up a few candy bars, energy drinks, so many unhealthy food to cool down. totally wasn't trying to kick the machine vending machine or punching through the glass or putting your arm inside the machine and eventually got caught by guards and took a run for it. it was a fun day. and relaxed with your stuff in "peace".

+KAZUHA

#1. you two took at least a picnic out in a high hill with some pastries, fruits, other kinds of food you crave for.

#2. looking up to the sky, holding hand to hand, pointing which is which. it was going well so far.

#3. a few animals was around and couldn't help but just let them join in and take at least few of the food. why not, right? having them around was pretty cute how they seem to like kazuha.

#4. remember when i said it was going well so far? light rain eventually dropped by and decided to go back to kazuha's place since it's the nearest..

#5. you two were almost there but it's already been pouring real hard. you two held hands and just ran as fast as you two could, soaking wet. you and kazuha reached home and decided to take a warm shower and kazuha lend you one of his clothing for the mean time to stick around. food that you still had back there was sorta soggy. cooked up at least some yakisoba or however kind of meal you prefer, listening to music with each other as the rain continues to pour.

+AETHER

#1. most of the time, he liked listening to your voice. he liked listening to you as you talk. he tries to make an effort to take part in the discussion.

#2. the more you start to talk about him right in front of him, showering so many comments, he couldn't stop smiling. is that what you really think of him? are you joking with him? he honestly can't tell if you're saying all of that just to make him mad, or flustered. mixture of both perhaps?

#3. i think you two might as well order lots of desserts and beverages. he expects that you two together will be up for hours until the cafe is closed around 10PM.

#4. you sneak in a few pictures when he couldn't see you. some were photos of him eating or drinking on what he ordered, talking to a waitress to pick up a few orders, looking at something just so lost of track. you eventually catch his attention when you're done taking in some.

#5. the cute date was really nice. you thought about posting one of the pictures on how your first date go with aether in one of your social medias, but... you can't simply just post in photos without his permission, right? decided to tease him a bit.

huh. must be pretty stunned that you managed to take those pictures. without him noticing too. he didn't reply for the whole night. you sure did want to know. oh well.

[final-girl96]

STOLEN HEARTS CHAPTER TWENTY

DAYTONA BEACH, FL

SPRING 1990

Daytona Beach, Florida. That's where we are currently at right now. Corroded Coffin has been number one of the charts for months. They had no problem booking places for concerts, which meant the tour continued. We did, however, have winter off. They guys were able to spend time with their families. Eddie and I hosted Thanksgiving and Christmas for the band and their families. Then Eddie had the bright idea to have a New Years party.

People we didn't even know showed up. The music was too loud, people were drinking heavily, and someone also brought drugs. Eddie and I had a huge fight after I caught him sitting on the couch with a few guys doing lines of cocaine. "It was just one hit, babe! It's nothing!" I ended up locking him out of our bedroom that night and found him and a bunch of other people sleeping downstairs. The house had been trashed inside and out.

Daytona Beach was their first stop. The tour was only going to be four weeks long, and then they were going to focus on making a new album. They had a bunch of interviews lined up for various talk shows and even MTV again. Some of those interviews would be taking place in between concerts. Vick, the band's managers, was also trying to set up so they could do a tour in Europe.

The partying never stopped though, and of course, with it being spring break, that's all they would be doing while we were here for two days. Today is Friday, and we just arrived at the hotel. I wanted nothing more than to get up to the room and sleep. Fans were posted outside the hotel screaming and crying. They begged for autographs, which some of them got. Eddie was always more than happy to give an adoring fan his autograph. I would normally stay by his side, smiling from how proud I was of him and the guys. But not tonight. Tonight, I just kept walking, Jay was right beside me, making sure no one touched me.

I'm the daughter of a rockstar, and a lot of people recognized me because of that. But now I'm the girlfriend of a rockstar. Girls were now jealous of that. They were jealous that I got to be with Eddie. Some of them loved us as a couple, and then some of them hated it, which meant they hated me. I've gotten dirty looks, and I've been spit on by jealous fans. Jay was always there to make sure they didn't get too close, though.

Once inside, Jay took care of checking us in and then led me up to the room. It was like any other room we've stayed in. A big suit. There was a living area, a small kitchen, and a bar. Then there was a door that connected to the bedroom where there was an ensuite bathroom. On the other side of the living room, space was another door with a smaller room and bathroom. That's where Jay would sleep. I never wanted him too far away. "You could have brought Anna along."

Anna was his wife. She also used to be my nanny. She was the sweetest woman I've ever met. She was short, probably about five-two, and petite, but very feisty. Jay was six-five with broad shoulders and huge arms. He was a fucking giant compared to Anna. But they bonded over the years when I was little. "She might join us later," he told me. I smiled at him and looked around the room.

"I'm going to take a nice long hot bath and then just relax for the rest of the night. You're free to do whatever it is you do." He smiled and nodded his head. I grabbed my bag, went into the bedroom, set it down, and headed for the ensuite bathroom. I walked over to the rub and turned the hot water on. They had lavender bath oil sitting on the counter so I put a little bit of that in there. When I stepped in and sank into the hot water the tension in my body slowly disappeared.

"Sweetheart!" I sighed and sank deeper into the water. I could hear him and Jay talking now. A short while later, the bathroom door opened and then closed again. "There you are. Why didn't you wait? I went to grab your hand, and you weren't there." I sighed, closing my eyes, and resting my head back. "I didn't feel like being spit on, having my hair pulled, or seeing the dirty looks your fans give me. I don't need to be there, Eddie."

"My fans love you. They wouldn't do that. You're being dramatic," He said. My eyes flew open and I looked at him. "Are you fucking blind? I've been spat on multiple times, I've had my hair pulled, and I've had some very unkind words screamed at me. But you're too busy soaking up the fame to notice. Just like you're too busy to notice that I'm not happy anymore!" I stood up, grabbed a towel, wrapped it around me, and pushed past him.

"That is such bullshit! You're just jealous that when I'm with my fans, all my attention is on them and not you! Little miss attention whore. Always need to be up my ass about everything!" I just stood there staring at me in disbelief. He didn't even notice because he was too busy ranting. "Bitch about me partying, drinking, smoking some weed here and there. God forbid some girl flirts with me! I could have any bitch I wanted, but I'm here with you! You should be fucking grateful!"

"Wow. Okay, well, don't worry about my jealous, clingy, ass being at the concert tomorrow night. You can go out and party, drink, get high, and I guess fuck who you want. You know seeing that I'm just a nuisance to you!" He threw up his hands and groaned. "You know what? I'm going out to the club with the guys tonight. Don't wait up!" He stormed past me and walked out the door.

I took a deep breath in and tried to stop the tears from coming. "Yn, are you alright?" I turned to look at Jay. Nothing needed to be said for him to grab the robe in the closet and rush over to me. He wrapped it around me and caught me as I sank to the floor. Eddie and I have fought plenty as of late, but nothing was ever as bad as this.

[duaghterofstories]

Okay I’m very sorry I’m very new to this app haha. Anyway I’d love to see a fic about Xanthous and Emarelda’s friendship because they are adorable maybe they get together and have a sleepover or something!

Whoo!!! Loving this one. It's short, but it's fun, it's quirky, and it's my favorite besties!

Sleepover—Emeralda and Xanthous Best Friendship

Rating: T Ships: N/A Fandom: A Tale of Magic Other: Post Worlds Collide, Post TLOS, references to TLOS, references to Seven, references to gambling.

~~

Emeralda looked up as Xanthous walked into her room.

“Fire off. My things are flammable.” she said, then went back to what she was doing, which was working on making pearls. Emeralda may have been able to make and manipulate minerals, gems, and rocks, but pearls were not technically any of those. She liked to make them to help herself go to sleep.

Xanthous flopped onto her bed, flames extinguishing. “Ugh!” he complained, rolling over to stare at the ceiling with an annoyed look.

“Is something wrong?” Emeralda asked, turning away from her project and walking to the back of her cave-like room to grab an extra set of metal sheets for the fire-fairy.

“Nah, just feeling not great since the whole world ending thing.” he took the blanket and laid it over himself. “It just feels like it happened way to often.”

“Well, do you remember when we were kids?” Emeralda asks, sitting next to him on the bed, on her normal bed sheets. “every fucking year there was some more bullshit.”

“You should curse more. The human Royals would lose their shit.” Xanthous commented. Then he sighed, sitting up and pulling the blanket around himself. “And I mean, yeah, but that was three incidents, and they mostly just affected the magical community, not everyone.”

“Eh, you did commit a genocide. Well, not a genocide, but you killed a lot of people.” Emeralda joked to him, giggling.

“That wasn’t me.” Xanthous said, tossing a pillow at her. “Anyway, other then that, and the whole ‘Righteous Emperor trying to take over the world’ thing, it really only affected the Magical community. And most definintly not two different worlds.”

“Mm, yeah, fair. But face it, if ‘Emperor Gallant’ was alive, he would try and take over the Otherworld.” Emeralda said the name in a mocking tone, as he fucking deserved.

“Mmm. He would.” Xanthous laughed. “He probably would have done better then them to. I mean, I don’t support him, but he would have been effective about it.”

“Mmm… true. He would have been. Though, considering we’re about a billion times more powerful then we were when we were kids, we could stop him pretty quickly.” Emeralda said.

“Yeah.”

The two fairies continued to sit in silence, Xanthous quickly heating some water into hot chocolate, passing it over to Emeralda. His metal blanket was wrapped almost completely around him, his arms gently poking out and it rested, bunched up, on his shoulders.

Emeralda took a long sip of her hot chocolate and tapped her fingers against her dress, forming a plate of some type of gem underneath it. Her finger nails tapped against the crystal, making a gentle and ASMR-esque tapping sound.

“You ever think we go to far pretending we’re weaker then we are so no one forces us to help them?” Xanthous asked, taking a sip of his hot chocolate.

Emeralda looked over at him. “Huh? No.” She shrugged. “Literally no one asks me to help them ever. It’s so easy. I literally never have to save the world anymore.”

Xanthous shrugged slightly, and he sipped more of his hot chocolate. He shrugged off his blanket and pulled out a deck of cards.

Emeralda raised her eyebrows. She vanished her crystal and smiled, leaning forward.

“Play?” Xanthous asked.

“Play?” she asked with a laugh. “Nah, not right now.” Despite her words, Emeralda took the deck of cards out of his hands and started to expertly shuffle them with a flick of her wrists.

“You spend too much time with Lucy.” Xanthous said, still taking his cards and getting ready. “What are we betting?”

“Winner can ask the loser one request, no refusing, nothing explicit, nothing deadly.”

“M’kay.” Xanthous looked up. “Go.”

[blocksruinedme]

smallidarity emp2 wip clip cause ao3 is down - "Best Buds Forever"

It's such a cute simple little fic. It should be rated T. Everyone on emp2 sees that fucking insane "best buds" mural and said "ooookay then". It's just two conversations and Joel fuming.

(I also have a 2k modern Flower Husbands wip clip up and a "smallidarity back on empires without grian" post-lim life fic. and a modern SmallEtho fic that is "joel fretting cause he doesn't have a label for his relationship with Etho")

"Best Buds Forever"

“What do you mean, he’s not my bloomin’ bo – it’s a joke, alright? Scott shut up! We’re not even really ‘best buds’, are we? It just got boring, y’know, fighting all the time. Repetitive. Too much bloody time and effort.” Joel crossed his arms and frowned at the laughing man.

Scott composed himself enough to wheeze out “And how long did you spend on the mural?”

“Shut up! That’s-” Joel hesitated. “That’s... it’s a joke. He took down everything else so I had to give him something he couldn’t, because it looked. Friendly.”

“The monument to the strength of your relationship.” Scott said smugly, though still out of breath.

“No it’s not–we were going really hard on the enemies thing, so when he stopped that, we couldn’t just be neutral or something boring. So maybe we went a little hard on saying we were besties or whatever, but it’s a joke, We’re not even really friends, are we—Scott bloody stop it! Shut up!I am going to bloody kill you, pull yourself together, stop laughing!”

“Joel, I’m sorry, this is just the funniest thing I’ve heard in weeks.” Scott still had an annoying wide smile on his face. 

Joel scowled. “Glad it’s funny for someone. No, I’m not, actually. This is stupid and annoying and you— you smell. Get out of here.”

He turned away from Scott, but didn’t leave. Neither did Scott, though he did pull himself up into a sitting position. He took several deep breaths and adjusted his hat. 

When Scott spoke again, his voice was softer. “Joel… you’re serious, aren’t you.”

Joel’s explosive answer might have scared some, but Scott was more than used to his outbursts. “Yes I am bloody serious! When did you become such an absolute idiot!”

—-

Joel had been having a perfectly reasonable day working on his base, focusing on the precision he needed for his builds. He liked building, it helped him not think about… things. Normally he enjoyed visits from Scott, but today he had come in full of even more smugness than usual. Joel hoped it meant he and Scott could make fun of someone, not that Scott was going to inflict his… Scottness on Joel. 

Scott had seen the… admittedly large mural Joel had built in Tumble Town. Joel had known people would see it, but he had to admit he hadn’t thought much about what they'd think. It was for Jimmy, after all, not the rest of them. Why would he care what they thought? 

The explanation Scott offered for his visit was to inform Joel that everyone knew about the mural and had “gotten the message” and he “didn’t need to worry”.

“Worry? What are you talking about?”

“You’ve made your claim, very clearly, and we’ll respect that.” Scott’s voice had a genuine undertone to it, making light of it all but being.. serious?

“My what? This is because of the sign? No, Jimmy can have as many buds, or whatever, he wants. It’s just a joke.”

Scott raised an eyebrow and looked at Joel in a way he very much did not appreciate. “Suuuure it is.” Joel glared at Scott and didn’t say anything, so he moved on. 

“Everyone else had ample time to actually make a move. If you’re going to be monogamous about it, we’ll stay off your man.” Scott’s silly mismatched eyes were positively twinkling and it made Joel very angry.

“My what???”

It had progressed from there, until Scott was on the ground in near hysterics.

[astupidweeb69]

Unrequited (Yandere! Ticci Toby x Reader) Part 6

Next Chapters: Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

Links to Previous Chapters: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, & Part 5

Author’s Note: This chapter has some heavy topics in it, especially towards the beginning about abuse. I’ve alluded to the reader in this story having a past that’s important to the plot, so I wanted to show that a little bit and where their whole paranoia and anger stems from.

Hopefully, this came out okay. Cross-posted on my Ao3 account which I update quicker.

Warnings: Swearing. Referenced child abuse (there is an actual scene in this but the reader is 18). Abusive relationships in general. Canon-typical violence. (5,241 words). This chapter is so long lol.

****************************

“If someone’s going to get violent with you, you have to be willing to get more fucking violent.”

 This was the kind of advice you had been given growing up.

An overall theme of being able to stoop lower than anybody. To have no line you wouldn’t cross to ensure victory. Even if that meant getting your hands dirty. Rigging the game.

And if you ever found yourself in a fair fight, you’ve already done something wrong.

It was your dad who put these thoughts into your head, and for a good portion of your childhood, you thought nothing of it. Like any kid, you believed your upbringing was normal.

Thankfully, this didn’t last.

You knew better now.

When you’re young, you’re naïve, and you look at the world with rose-colored glasses. Unable to see all the obvious red flags in front of you. But you were clever enough to figure out that most of the time, your dad was full of shit. Projecting his own personality onto everyone else, assuming everyone around him had the same cutthroat attitude he did.

Though you had come to this realization, it didn’t make unlearning all his fucked-up lessons that were spoon-fed to you since you were a baby easy.

His manipulation of your mind could range from more extreme notions to subtle ideas you still caught yourself believing today if you weren’t careful enough.

He was smart.

There’s a certain depiction of an abuser that TV and movies love to use. A stupid man in a dirty wife-beater who’s always angry. So blatantly vile in their actions, no redeemable qualities to be seen. Almost non-human. Those types of toxic people are out there, but it’s rarer. Most of the time, abusers are more insidious.

There was a reason it took you so long to leave after all.

Some days you wanted nothing more than to spend time with him, ask for his advice, his opinions. A longing to have him parent you. And he could do that. He could fit that role when it suited him and make you feel loved. There were times that you had even been in trouble, over something that was your fault, and you would be so scared to tell him. But when you finally did, he’d be totally understanding, and you’d question why you were so hesitant in the first place.

However, this never lasted. Abuse is a cycle, you never forgot that. There are four stages to look for. The tension, the incident, the reconciliation, and the calm. And these periods don’t always have to last the same amount of time. For you, sometimes the calm would last half a year. Sometimes only a day. Because another thing to keep in mind is that an abuser is a person too. They have emotions. So, in periods of their lives when they are more stressed, they become more volatile. You despised the fact that this concept was never told to you growing up. Because everything your father did to you was so inconsistent, it took you too long to recognize that what you were going through wasn’t normal.

That your feelings of betrayal, sadness, and fear were valid.

And at the age of 18, you were ready to put a stop to it.

Anne was your biggest supporter. Her house had become a second home to you growing up, her family having some awareness of your situation.

But Anne knew everything. All the details.

The two of you made plans to leave your hometown together. Being the rich kid that she was, her parents were sending her to college at a place where they owned their second home. You’d stay there while she stayed on campus. But you needed time before making any decisions to join higher education.

You didn’t know what you wanted.

You didn’t know who the fuck you were.

You just knew you couldn’t follow the strict plans your dad had for you in life.

And you wanted to feel safe.

That’s why you found yourself frantically packing up the rest of your things from your father’s house. Anne was waiting for you at her home with a U-Haul truck ready to go, all you needed was to get to her before your dad came home from work.

He couldn’t find out about this.

Not until you were long gone.

But life had a funny way of screwing you over. Always dealing you a bad hand.

Before you made it out the door with your last suitcase, the always anxiety-inducing sound of your dad’s car tires pulling up the driveway made you stop.

 He had come home early.

 “(Y/N)? What’s going on?”

He came through the door leading to the garage, tossing his keys on the table next to it. The look on his face a mixture of confusion and concern.

 You knew that wouldn’t last long.

 There you were, halfway down the stairs from your bedroom with a suitcase in hand. No matter what you said there was no mistaking your intentions. You weren’t the first to leave him, after all.

As expected, his face turned cold. Seeing how you only stared back at him with wide eyes from being caught red-handed. You didn’t say a word.

“Answer me. What are you doing?” He walked swiftly towards the bottom of the stairs. Blocking your only escape.

It angered you.

A reaction you without a doubt learned from him.

A dumb response, but it was the one you chose to have at this moment. This was the final time you’d have to confront him.

No matter how much he hurt you, you’d fight back.

“You know exactly what I’m doing.”

Your heart beat fast. Just because you’ve challenged him plenty of times before, never made it any less terrifying.

Your dad’s face twisted in anger. You could see the rage start to build. And in a second, you were going to feel it too.

“That’s it? That’s all I get? After everything I’ve done for you. All the sacrifices I’ve made. The money I spent. I care about you. And now you just fucking run out on me just like your delinquent brother!”

The steps creaked as he approached you.

You backed up, all the way to the top of the stairs

Almost face to face now, he sighed, forming a tired smile. “Listen, I’m sorry I lost my temper. Let’s just take a seat in the living room and we can talk.”

You knew what this was.

An apology soon turned into another long-winded explanation about how he feels bad. That being a single dad is just so hard sometimes. That every parent makes mistakes trying to do right by their kids. You’ve heard it all before. And you were done listening.

“Fuck you.”

It rolled off the tongue easily when directed at him. You made your bed, and now you were going to sleep in it.

 The first fist was expected.

 It made contact with your right shoulder, but you hardly reacted.

All you could focus on was the look in his eye. The utter hate. Every time you two got into an altercation like this it always put you in a state of shock at first. That your father, the one who was supposed to love and support you could suddenly treat you like this. A disgusting betrayal that broke all trust. He wasn’t the same person now, and you, the one in front of him, were no longer his child. Only a reminder that he was failing. Something to punch into submission.

Your reflexes kicked in.

Years of practice had made you pick up a few moves on your own. From the corner of your eye, you saw his leg swing back, ready to kick your shins and knock you down.

You caught it in both arms before he had the chance. It wasn’t graceful and it stung a bit, but you knew what you were doing.

And you knew when you used his own leg to push him back, that all that awaited him now was the fall down those stairs.

A smile stretched on your lips as you watched.

Even though you’d never admit it, you felt some weird sense of accomplishment and strength whenever you were able to hurt him back.

He tumbled down hard, clumsily landing at the bottom with his limbs splayed out. At some point, he must’ve tried to use his arm to break his fall, because now he was cradling it, broken.

You ran down the stairs, skipping a couple of steps while holding your suitcase, making a break for the door.

You could hear your dad screaming at you the whole time, your brain not even processing his words. His pleads.

Just basking in the sunshine as you finally left for good.

************************************

 It didn’t matter how old you were now. How much you’ve grown; how much you’ve moved on. Stuff like what happened with Toby can still bring you back to that place.

 And suddenly, you’re a kid again.

 When he left that night, you practically jumped into Anne’s arms. She knew something was up, probably having seen the person responsible storm out of your house.

You were never a touchy person, so initiating a hug made it clear you were beyond upset.

It was an unspoken agreement that Anne would stay with you until you settled down. Especially after you told her the last thing he said to you.

 “You’ll be seeing me again soon, (Y/N)”

 A promise.

 A threat.

 Most likely both.

On the one hand, it made you terrified, and on the other it made you want to kill him. That some person could have the audacity to treat you this way after you had let them into your home. Shared something with them that you were fond of. You even made him dinner for Christ’s sake.

And then he texted you.

Anne and you had been curled up on the couch together. You refused to go to sleep, afraid he might show up again, instead watching a lighthearted comedy to take your mind off everything.

Originally you wanted to text him back, ‘Eat shit and die.’ But your friend convinced you that probably wouldn’t help the situation.

You had to hand the phone over to Anne so she could write a more eloquent response than the many insults you had planned.

Toby didn’t say anything back. A part of you was hoping that it meant he’d taken the hint that things were going nowhere between the two of you. That this would be the end of it.

It made you relieved enough to finally get some rest for the night.

 Now, it was morning.

 Anne had made chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast. A tradition you guys had whenever you’d stay at her parents’ house when you were kids to get away from your father. The gesture was nice but still reminded you of those dark days all the same.

She stared at you, sipping coffee from her mug, as you lazily picked at the fluffy disks with a fork. “I need to tell you something.”

Your tired eyes slowly drifted up. “What?”

Anne looked at you with pity. “I have a four-hour-long exam this afternoon, so I have to leave you for a little bit. I tried emailing my professor to put it off for a day, but he said no. Engineering teachers can be such dicks.”

Her words made you feel pathetic. Like a helpless victim. Someone who would never escape all the fucked-up things their past did to them. This was why it was so hard for you to tell your other friends about your family. Once you told people, it was like that was all they could see. Using it like some overzealous psychology student to explain everything you did in the present.

But you knew Anne had your best interest in mind.

You forced a weak smile. “I’ll be fine on my own for a couple hours. I don’t need you to babysit me all the time, you know.” At times like these, you felt like you had to lighten the mood. Crack a joke. Not bum the other person out so much that they get fed up and leave. And Anne had done nothing but help this entire time. The guilt was killing you.

Of course, your friend saw right through your façade.

“No, you’re not fine.” She sighed. Not giving you the chance to disagree, she continued. “Listen, before you got up, I called my mom and told her what happened. While I’m gone, she said she’ll come over for some ‘girl time’. She’s bringing over homemade empanadas so you can’t say no.”

You raised a brow, “Girl time?”

“Her words, not mine.” Anne chuckled.

Even though you didn’t want to inconvenience anybody, it was hard to refuse her mom’s cooking. “I guess I’ll allow it.” You smirked. As if you had much of a choice in the matter.

“Good. I’m going to get some last-minute studying done.”

She got up from her chair putting her plates in the sink.

 ***************************** 

Anne had left you alone once again. Fortunately, this time you didn’t have any plans to have dinner and a movie with a crazy man.

You hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and it was closing in on almost 3 pm. But you wanted to save room for the promised empanadas, mouth watering at the mere thought of them.

The house was unusually cold that afternoon, and it was a struggle to find something to do while you waited. Although you had slept last night, it wasn’t nearly enough, so you found yourself in a mental fog. Constantly trying to fight back yawns, not wanting to take a nap in case Anne’s mother showed up while you were passed out.

 Finally, the doorbell rang.

 Excitement overwhelmed you, and without thinking, you made a mad dash to the front entrance to let the visitor in. Grabbing the handle, you hastily opened the door with a huge smile.

 A familiar stench overpowered your senses.

 Sandalwood and lavender

 Your breath hitched.

 “(Y-Y/N)”

 No.

 Oh fuck no.

 It wasn’t Anne’s mom.

  “SHIT!”

  Eyes wide with fear, you tried to slam the door shut.

A dirty boot suddenly wedged itself in between the frame, forcing it to stay open.

Forcing you to face the last person on earth you wanted to see.

 Toby.

 He stood as tall as ever in front of you. A dull green hoodie with stripes and a blue hood. Gripping a large bouquet of roses in his hand so hard you could see the thorns had started cutting him.

“I’m nuh-not here to hurt you, (Y/N).” He sounded timid. Like a shy young boy trying to speak to their crush for the first time. A stark contrast to how he’d been the night before.

You could feel your knees starting to tremble. Your hand still gripped the side of the door, trying to force it to close with the full weight of your body, even with the man’s shoe still preventing it.

“I juh-just wanted to a-puh-logize to you formally.” His eyebrows furrowed, watching you start to kick his foot out of the way. “Quit it. I only want to tuh-talk.”

He was starting to get annoyed. You could tell. And from everything you’ve experienced with him before you knew it would only get worse.

“Leave me alone.” You huffed out, slamming your entire frame repeatedly now on the wood of the door.

It started to budge a bit, inches away from closing.

Toby growled, shoving his arm into the small crack. Slithering his entire body halfway through the entrance, reaching out his arm to grab you. His face was crushed by the doorframe, but you could still see the expression of frustration and rage. Something you were all too familiar with.

“Just let.” His body moved forward.

 “Me.” He was almost inside.

 “IN.”

 The door swung open violently on its hinges, knocking you back in the process.

Falling on your ass, you scrambled to get up and get the fuck away from him.

Large hands gripped both your shoulders, spinning you around before you had the chance.

His eyes were wide looking down at you. “I’m suh-sorry I had to do that. Are you okay?” He was smiling.

This man was completely unhinged.

Toby started rubbing your arms, gliding up and down. An act typically made to calm a person down. But that wasn’t his intent. The man’s face was fully red, almost drooling. He just liked using any excuse to put his disgusting mitts on you.

You jerked out of his hold, contorting your face into the most menacing look you could muster. “Don’t. Fucking. Touch me.”

Ignoring you, he cocked his head to the side, glancing down at the flowers he had brought that were now on the floor. The petals had been crushed and scattered around during the scuffle. He started twitching aggressively.

“Now look what you did. I wuh-went through all that trouble.” Toby muttered, barely audible.

Snapping his eyes back to you, he grinned again, emotions quickly switching gears. “No wuh-worries though. I wasn’t even sure if you liked thuh-those kinds of flowers. I can get you a different kind.”

Was he serious? Did he forget what the hell he just did? Breaking into your home, knocking you down, then acting like the two of you were a couple. What was he going to do next? Start picking out china patterns?

You started to shake. You couldn’t tell if it was from anger or fear.

Fists clenching, your nails dug hard into your skin to the point you drew blood.

“Get out.”

He looked at you confused.

“Get out.”

Your voice was beginning to rise.

“Get. OUT.”

Toby didn’t move, watching your outburst in disbelief.

 “GET OUT!”

 Silence.

 He blinked and took a deep breath. Lifting his head, he stared past you, a distant look in his gaze. He seemed lost in thought before opening his mouth to speak.

 “No.”

 It was like he was answering a simple question. Making a firm decision and telling you matter-of-factly. It didn’t sound like a threat. But you knew it was.

You backed away.

Like a predator realizing its prey was about to escape its claws, Toby changed his stance. Getting ready to attack.

“Wuh-where are you going?” His eyes narrowed, piercing into every fiber of your being. “I only wuh-want –“

 You ran.

 There wasn’t a clear path to go. The only exit from the house was through Toby, and he could easily grab you if you tried going on either side of him.

The only way left was behind you.

Upstairs.

You cursed inwardly, hastily climbing the steps. This was one of the things you always hated in horror movies. When the protagonist cornered themselves on the second floor.

Maybe you could jump out a window?

Adrenaline fueling your thoughts, you quickly looked around at the top of the stairs trying to decide the best place to go. Behind you, Toby’s heavy footsteps pounded on the floor trying to catch up. Growling a string of expletives from his lips.

Although tempted to run to your bedroom, instead you settled for the guest room. It was closer and had a balcony. You never stayed in there because the large glass door leading to the outside made you feel unsafe. Like anybody could scale up the side of the house, break-in, and slit your throat while you slept.

How ironic that it’s now become the best possible way to escape danger.

Slamming the door behind, you locked it and rushed over to the exit. With only a slight turn to the metal handle, the glass double doors burst open, a rush of wind blowing the curtains haphazardly around you.

There was a storm brewing outside. Heavy gray clouds cast a shadow that gave the illusion of nighttime. God, could this be any more cliché?

You bent slightly over the railing, looking down at the two-story drop. It made your head spin. Your mind subconsciously trying to get you to back away and retreat. Your feet were firmly planted on the ground, and every time you tried to will it forward you found yourself hesitating.

Toby was slamming on the bedroom door, you thought that locking it would buy you more time, but you could already hear wood splintering. He didn’t look strong enough to break down a door so quickly given his sickly complexion. But being proven wrong was a regular occurrence today.

A new plan hatched in your brain, remembering something you’d almost forgotten about. The closet.

With the doors to the balcony opened, if you hid now, it might trick the psycho trying to get you that you’ve already left.

And in case that plan failed, this closet in particular held all the things you wanted to forget about.

You opened the storage space discretely, closing it behind you as your hands tried to feel out your old hunting bag. A gift from your father. Containing all the little weapons and survival guides he’d attempted to force on you since you were a child. You undid the zipper, fishing around for something that could help you defend yourself.

The first thing you recognized was a tiny pair of brass knuckles. Far too small for you now. Your dad had welded them from an old belt buckle of his, specifically to fit a child’s hand. Obviously, you never used them. The next item was a serrated hunting knife. Something to gut fish with, not that you ever liked doing that, but it could probably gut crazy guys trying to kill you too, right? You tucked it away in your pants. Using knives meant close combat. Too risky. But you’d keep it on your person just in case. Finally, your hand touched a cool metal rod. It was folded up into itself. A retractable military-grade police baton stick. Another one of his strange “gifts”. When you’d asked him where he got it all he said was “the internet”. Whatever that means.

This was the only time in your life you’ve been thankful for getting these things instead of regular toys for your birthday. Hopefully, you could figure out how to use them.

The door finally gave way, you could hear Toby stumble inside the room swearing. You clutched the metal weapon against your chest.

You were afraid. You hated that. Hated that you could feel this way inside your own home. That an intruder had come onto your territory to threaten your safety. The life you’ve painstakingly had to rebuild.

Through gritted teeth, you tried to channel these fears into anger. A mechanism to give yourself courage.

You needed to be alert, and you focused on listening to every movement Toby made outside your hiding place. Pretending that you were the predator now. Listening for the perfect time to strike.

His footsteps immediately went to the balcony. The sound of feet shuffling on the tile outside, he was probably trying to see if he could catch a glimpse of your retreating form.

You heard him step back inside calmly, no longer seeming to be in much of a hurry.

 “Hmmm, I wuh-wonder where (Y/N) went!” He purred playfully.

 Your stomach dropped.

 Oh fuck.

 Did he actually figure out you were still here or was he just trying to trick you?

Either way, you were staying put.

 “Muh-maybe… UNDER THIS PILLOW?” You heard the covers and cushions of the bed being swiped off the mattress.

 Toby snapped his fingers, fake disappointment in his voice, “Damn!”.

 He was mocking you. Treating this like some kind of game. What a thoroughly fucked up guy.

 “Or muh-maybe…”

 For a second you thought he was making his way to your hiding spot, but he walked right past it.

 “IN THIS DRAWER?”

 You heard various small items being scattered around the ground, as Toby flung one of the drawers to an old vanity table on the floor. It landed right in front of where you were, the only thing separating you from it being the door of the closet. You almost yelped from surprise.

It wouldn’t be long before he found you. Whether he thought you were in this room or not, it was obvious he was going to check every nook and cranny anyway.

But who said you had to sit there and wait?

Toby was moving back to the bed now. Probably to start checking actual hiding spots, you realized. The typical ones. Under the bed. In the closet. The only possible places you could be.

Lucky for you his first choice was wrong.

It was a gamble, with the odds stacked high against you, but you slowly creaked the door to the closet open and peeked.

 There he was, in all his manic glory, looking down at the bed. Facing away from you.

 “Or maybe…”

 It was a whisper this time, but you still caught it. He must’ve really thought you were under there for some reason.

 Toby knelt down, expecting to find you huddled up in fear.

 Now was your chance.

 You exploded out of the closet. Flicking your arm, you heard the click of the baton as it grew to its full length.

Toby whipped his head around, caught off guard. He staggered trying to stand back up and face the attack.

There was a look of shock in his eye that you relished when you struck down across his face.

“Take that you fuck!” You sneered down at him, feeling the rush of successfully turning the tables.

He fell back on his side, clutching his face with both hands while groaning in pain.

 You smirked.

 But then he stopped.

 Slowly, he moved his fingers, showing you wild eyes full of hysterical joy, a stream of blood trickling down from his temple. He giggled like a schoolgirl.

 Your eyes widened.

 What the fuck?

 A hit like that would take anybody down. Batons were no joke. At the very least it should’ve taken him more time to recover.

 “I don’t FEEL puh-pain.”

 You didn’t even get a chance to process his words before you felt a large hand grab your ankle. He pulled harshly, making you lose your balance.

Your arm shot out attempting to catch yourself, the baton slipping out of your hand and rolling towards the open window.

Toby’s grip tightened its hold on your leg while you tried to crawl towards it. With your other foot, you kicked his face while trying to peel his fingers off.

You finally managed to land a good blow between his eyes, and being temporarily blinded, his grasp loosened. You used the opportunity to jerk your ankle away.

Standing up, you ran to the weapon, picking it up and spinning around.

Toby faced you, now at his full height too. He tilted his head to the side, eyes lidded while smiling brightly. Like he was having the time of his life.

You took a couple of warning swings, glaring at him. “Stay back jackass! I will KILL you if I have to!” You weren’t entirely sure if you could kill somebody, but the rage you felt at this moment made you tempted to try.

He licked his lips, face turning flush yet again.

“Oh, I duh-don’t doubt it, (Y/N).”

Holy shit this guy was gross.

Toby steadily approached your smaller form, a devious look in his eyes, arms outstretched getting ready to strike.

You slowly retreated onto the balcony.

The wind raged fiercely, the sheer white curtains whipping past your head.

It was hard to breathe.

The intenseness of each step he took.

Like he already had you by the throat.

Your back hit the railing, the only thing stopping you from tumbling off the edge.

Completely unbothered, Toby moved the white fabric that fluttered around to the side. He was so close now you could hear him breathing.

You raised your weapon over your head, hands shaking, and swung forward.

He caught your arm.

 Fuck.

 With his free hand, he quickly grabbed the baton and tossed it on the ground behind him.

Now you just stared up at him, like a deer caught in the headlights, watching him raise your arm up high.

He was grinning so wide now it looked like it must’ve hurt. But you had learned the hard way that it didn’t. Nothing did.

He forced you on your tip toes. You thought for sure he was going to completely lift you off the floor and throw you over the ledge.

But he didn’t.

 In a state of complete confusion, you were daintily twirled around, and in one swift motion he dipped you. Putting his face so close his lips brushed against yours.

 “Isn’t this nuh-nice?” He murmured.

 Was this all some kind of fucking dance to him?

Regaining your composure, the initial shock finally dying down, you pushed him away. Now the positions switched, you in the doorway to the bedroom, him leaning on the balcony’s railing. His arms were crossed, flashing you a sinister smile. Looking so proud of himself for some ungodly reason.

 That smug look.

 Your blood boiled.

 On instinct you reeled back your fist, punching him, nose letting out a sickening crunch at the force, while his head flew to the side.

He blinked for a second before turning to you, his face contorted with wrath. The madness and bloodlust inside him revealing themselves again.

 His leg lifted off the ground, ready to make impact with your body.

 But you’ve done this before.

 Too many times.

 In both arms, the muscle memory triggered, the ungraceful movement catching his leg.

There was a pause where neither one of you moved. Toby looked down at where you held his shin near your waist, perplexed and starting to lose his balance.

 With a grin, you pushed him back with as much force as you could. His arms flailing, and his body about to fall over the railing.

 You had won.

  Or so you thought.

 In a last-ditch effort, he grabbed the curtains, almost tearing them in the process. Oh, how you wished that they had.

Pulling himself back up, he stared at you with widened eyes. Surprised that you actually managed to do something like that. It wasn’t anything that would make him think you were secretly an expert fighter. But it was enough to show you clearly have more experience than you let on.

 Another one of his crazed smiles stretched across his face.

 “You’re good, (Y/N)”

 He paused, letting his words sink in. You tried to back up a bit, not liking the look in his eyes.

 “But yuh-you know what? I’m better.”

 He tackled you to the ground making you scream. Immediately pinning down both your arms, you thrashed trying anything to get him off.

You could hear him laughing under his breath watching you fail.

 His arm reached out to grab something off to the side.

 The baton.

 “Wait! Please don’t!” You pleaded, trying to make your voice sound as pathetic as possible. The only hope now being that he’d take pity on you.

 With the weapon raised above his head, his expression softened with a love-sick gaze.

 For a second, you thought he was letting you go.

 You were wrong.

 “I’m suh-sorry things had to turn out this way.”

  And he swung down.

[lavander-aavaros]

After browsing through 2 and 3 year old reddit posts, I can definitely understand why some people ended up feeling betrayed by RE:H. Even though I had the complete opposite experience. I distinctly remember seeing "anti-dating sim" on the itchio page back in 2019, but I guess they didn't keep that to the very end?

It's certainly a depressing game, but browsing all those comments really just makes me appreciate that this game exists even more

(Spoilers ahead)

I can certainly relate to Dov's feelings of frustration at dating sims, the standard of a "happy ending reward" and fluffy sex/romance, all that

I played it when it first came out (and holy shit, it really has been 3 years), and at that point, I hadn't yet accepted my asexuality, let alone aromanticism.

I guess, my point is, the sex and romance in the game really hit a part of me that took a few more years to decipher. I flirted with all the characters in the "standard" way and I honestly dreaded the "relationship end" that would inevitably come. But I was prepared to bear it for vampires and pretty art. And honestly, because I'm used to it. No matter how much you try, you can't escape sex and romance. The best case scenario is finding a few friends that will shut up about it around you

And it is what it is, you know? People find joy in sex and romance and they're not wrong for it. Conflicting needs and all that

...And then, that "relationship end" never came.

I've been replaying the game, currently on Markus' route, which is what sparked all of this.

And Markus... oh, Markus. I did the flirting, I said I wanted to have sex. Some of it was curiosity, I wanted to see ALL the text. And some of it was going along with what I was used to. You flirted, now have sex. This is your own doing.

Now, I'm not much into noncon. On a good day, I simply don't think about it, on a bad day it squicks the hell out of me. Which is a problem when I want to vent out my sex repulsion and read some straight up Bad Sex, and the only Bad Sex I can find is noncon. (I can write my own, but sometimes you just want to relate to a character, you know?)

And then Markus' scene came along, and it was the first time I'd seen some downright uncomfortable consensual sex. He asks if you want to have sex. You say yes. It's on his own terms and he says he will be "doing the impaling". You have sex. It's not good sex.

And with Markus, with honestly the entirety of RE:H, it was the first time that Sex And Romance Conclusion felt... good. It was the first time that reading sex and romance didn't feel like a punishment for my curiosity. "I started this, now I have to see how it ends. Ah fuck, the characters fell in love and now they're having sex. If only I wasn't playing a dating sim. Oh well, it's too late to turn back now"

Which, I admit, is an... odd mindset, given that I could just not play dating sims. But I like clicking the spacebar button and looking at pretty pictures!

I am half joking, I did spend a good chunk of my life reading and playing romance in hopes that, one day, if i did it long enough, I would just get over my repulsion and "be normal"

I've seen people say that the RE:H sex and relationships felt like a punishment. I think that was Dov's original plan, if I remember correctly?

But for me, it was the first time I actually felt rewarded for bearing the flirting. The happy Relationship And Sex reward was never rewarding to me, because honestly, I don't get why anyone would like that in the first place. Why would you ever want something that makes you feel gross and uncomfortable, you know? (I am aware that people in this world do like sex, but I just cannot relate)

So when I got uncomfortable and downright bad sex, I finally felt rewarded with relatability. "Yes! This is what sex is! This is what flirting and relationships feel like!"

This is what sex and relationships have always been to me. Repulsive and uncomfortable and, worst of all, unavoidable. Yes, sure, in real life, you can simply not have sex, you can stay single. But let's be real here, it's unavoidable when you like vampire fiction and action movies. And I could never relate to the fluffy ace characters that just... don't have sex.

I don't have a problem with people feeling betrayed and disliking the game, we all have different tastes. But, for me, at a point in my life where I hadn't accepted myself, at a time in my life where I was trying to "fix myself", RE:H was the first time I could have my cake and eat it too

I'm getting quite emotional. RE:H wasn't my saving grace. It wasn't everything and it still took years for me to get comfortable with myself. But, perhaps, call it a helping hand. A step on the ladder out of my own self-inflicted hell.

Though RE:H is bleak and depressing, and I can't risk playing it when I haven't had enough sleep, it truly means a lot to me and it will always have a place in my heart