#unabashedly sentimental

[tojisun]

!! suggestive (and mini smut) - minors dni; bimbo (fem)!reader has simon wrapped around her pinky (we luv to see it!); the squad’s here too; hinted age difference (30s v. 20s)

when they ask him where you two met, simon always tries his best to tamp down the smile threatening to grace his lips before clearing his throat and answering, "in the ER."

the questions that follow are always repetitive: 'what, why?', 'what happened?', 'how did things even go from there?' the last one is often paraphrased into some other versions, but the sentiment remains – people always get surprised, reduced into awkward stumbling because how could you even segue into a romantic relationship from having met in the ER?

well, simon thinks, it's actually quite fucking simple.

it was three in the morning and simon was in the lobby, waiting to be called in, when he saw you walk in: you clutched your broken heeled shoes in your hands, your beautiful legs were bearing injuries and cuts, and your hair was a wild mess. then, you ambled towards a baffled triage nurse.

"hi!" simon recalls your melodic voice echo, sounding too hyper even when you looked all banged up. "can i use y'r restroom? we got kicked outta the club."

simon was so focused on you that he didn't even notice the pack of girls following behind you, all of them looking just as haggard and bruised up. one of your friends was actually worryingly injured, so it’s no shock when the nurse rushed towards her, slightly panicked and confused before steering your friend away, leaving you there in the lobby.

then, you turned around, frowning at having been ignored, and it gave simon the best vantage point of finally seeing your face. he swears his heart stuttered in his chest, his lungs constricting, because holy shit, you are beautiful.

"then the rest is history," simon ends, pulling you close to him. any closer and you would have ended on his lap – something he preferred, anyway – but johnny continues to stare at the two of you with a slack jaw, his eyes almost bulging out in confusion so simon tries to keep it civil.

you giggle, and simon watches as the rest of the squad snap their eyes on you, as though expecting you to grace them with a better explanation. but simon knows that you probably don't even know what's going on, having been busy tapping away on your phone, your acrylics making distinct clacks as they hit the screen.

"i love the history channel," you singsong, batting your eyelashes as you give them a dimpled smile. "simmy-" simon almost coos at the nickname you gave him, "and i looove watching the penguins."

simon presses a kiss on the top of your head, ignoring the bewildered looks his squad is shooting him.

"that's the 'animal planet', love. not the history channel," simon corrects gently, rubbing his hand down your side.

"oh!" you say, unbothered by your mistake. "okay!"

and that was that.

"what the fuck," simon hears johnny wheeze out only to up making choking noises when kyle elbows him. simon ignores them, choosing to watch as you turn back to your phone, mass-retweeting a series of post made by the magazine catalogue that you've been following.

cute.

---------

"fuck," simon hisses, feeling the sharp edge of the kitchen knife slicing through the first layer of his skin. he watches the blood bead, trickling down his finger, and simon wipes it before it can stain the pristine green – "sage!" you tutted to him once – countertops.

"si?" you ask, padding towards the kitchen at the clamour. he feels you press yourself to his side, your perky tits nuzzling his robust muscles. "what's goin- y'r bleeding!"

he grunts, frowning at himself for having made you worry. he moves to reassure you that he's okay, but you're already tugging him out of the kitchen, your smaller hand wrapped around his thicker wrist.

god, he loves seeing the size difference.

you're wearing his military shirt, the material sliding down your body beautifully, before pooling just above your perky ass. simon unabashedly stares at the way your ass jiggles – hidden underneath the tiniest booty shorts he knows you own – his throat bone dry and his sweats filling up all of a sudden.

he barely realizes that you two are in the bathroom until you're steering him towards the edge of the bathtub before twisting to fish the emergency kit from the floor cabinets. simon almost groans at the perfect shape that your ass makes when you bend over, feeling himself throb with raging desire.

you pull out a pink emergency kit and skitter towards him again, slotting yourself between his spread legs. simon raises his hand – the uninjured one – to grasp at your waist, sliding it down to your hips, before giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"it's nothin' fatal, sweet'art," simon mumbles, thumbing your hipbone as he tries to comfort you.

you're still pouting at him when you say, "sure, i guess. but lemme help you?"

and who is simon to say no to that?

"of course, love."

he lets out a quiet chuckle when you press your glossed lips on his forehead, unbothered even when your lips leave a sticky stamp on his skin.

he watches you disinfect his wound with a strawberry-scented sanitizer before wrapping a pink adhesive bandage around it. his worries about having his open wound disinfected by a glittery sanitizer fade away when you picked his hand up to place a kiss on his now-bandaged finger.

glitter-induced infections no longer matter. not when simon's getting nursed to full health by such a pretty girl.

he licks the back of his teeth, clenching his jaw, and thinks, you deserve a reward, don't you, sweetness?

---------

johnny blanches when he sees the bandage around simon's finger. "LT, what in fuck's name is that?"

his loud voice snags the attention of garrick and their captain who ambled their way towards him upon hearing the commotion. garrick chokes on nothing when he sees the pink bandage that simon's sporting.

"bandage," simon replies, pride heavy in his voice. "from my girl."

johnny whirls and shoots a pointed look towards kyle and john. kyle is the one who breaks the silence.

"…are they safe for use?"

"what's the cat even bandaging?" johnny adds.

simon huffs, flicking his finger up to give the squad a better view. "firstly, this is 'hello kitty'. secondly, you questionin' my girl’s ability to care for me?"

john coughs, looking away, kyle arches a brow at him like the answer should be obvious, and johnny gulps loudly, before mumbling, "...yes."

simon sniffs, unable to blame them. "yeah, well, don't."

the squad is still quiet. waiting.

simon finally gives in and replies, "i checked. they're safe for use."

he rolls his eyes at their dramatic sigh.

"that's good to hear," john says before clapping his hands together once, urging them to disperse.

simon grumbles all the way back to his room.

---------

simon loves his pretty, dumb girlfriend to death.

he loves seeing you dolled up – skimpy dresses made of silk material paired with heels that could honestly stab someone to death. he also loves seeing you in nothing but his ratty jumpers – loose black sweaters stopping just after your crotch and the sleeves falling past your fingers.

but nothing tops seeing you naked and crying for him.

nothing could ever top this – your legs folded close to your chest, your ankles hooked on his shoulders, your pretty make up running as tears trickle from the corners of your eyes and flood your cheeks.

he thrusts his fingers in your cunt again, breathless when it punches out another slick gush of your squirt, drenching you two even more. you squeal, body locking, your hips lifting from the bed. simon has to press down on your belly to keep you stable.

"siii!" you cry out, thrashing on his hold, but simon just kisses your leg as he continues to fuck his fingers in you.

"shh," simon murmurs, feeling so choked up at the sight you make. "one more for me, yeah?"

you moan out a reply, a garbled mixture of 'yes' and his name, before wrapping your hands around his arms, your acrylics digging into his skin. simon doesn't even register the pain, still too caught up at fingering you to feel the way you're clawing him.

still too caught up at how perfect you are for him.

(later, when he checks the mirror and sees the angry red welts, simon purrs at the sight of them. because simon loves being marked by you, doesn't matter how, as long as he has bearings of your pleasure. pleasure he gave you.)

---------

simon receives a video message from you. it’s nothing long or conspicuous, but simon still chokes when he finally gets to watch it.

because in the video, you’re wearing simon’s old varsity shirt on top of your university cheer uniform.

“look!” you chirp, twirling for him. “found this in the closet!”

simon slams his captain’s door open and demands a vacation leave.

---------

the lieutenant has a new tattoo and johnny doesn't know what the actual shit it's supposed to be.

it looks like a wriggly blob of a... cloud? a cotton ball? candy floss?

it was still a somewhat fresh tattoo so simon never truly shows it off – johnny doesn't even know if it's worthy of being shown off – until one night at a bar, simon rolls up the sleeves of his jumper and leans to the squad to point at the blob.

"lookit," he slurs, tipsy and just a touch giddy.

finally, johnny cheers to himself before reaching forward to poke just beside the scribble.

"what's it?"

"mittens," their lieutenant croons, smiling down at his skin like a weirdo.

johnny has seen enough mittens to know that whatever that fucking squiggle is isn't mittens.

"uhm," kyle says, thankfully thinking along the same lines as johnny. "is it?"

"yeah," simon says wistfully, drunken in a lovesick way. "s'my girl's cat. she drew it f'r me."

oh. well, fuck. now that's just too cute.

wait.

"that's a drawing of a cat?" johnny rasps out, choking on his spit before turning to study the tattoo again.

it's still a fucking blob.

christ.

[un-lawliet]

“He Knows”

— in which you’re avoiding Gojo and he wants you to tell him why.

(or i’m coping with rejection rn pls god help me)

“You’re avoiding me.”

“Huh?!” You jump back, almost dropping your pen as you turn to see frowning Gojo Satoru staring down at you expectingly, the usually relaxed demeanour he wore crumbling in the slight dip in his brow.

It wasn’t a question, Gojo stated it as fact, and if you looked hard enough, the downwards tilt of his lips could tell you about his complete (and utter) disapproval in his conclusion.

“I have no idea what you mean.”

You were running, sprinting even away from your problems.

Avoid, avoid avoid.

You refused to let it come to this, cornered in a library with Gojo Satoru, a man you definitely were not avoiding, nope not at all.

“You.” Gojo leans down, capturing your eyes in his, “Are avoiding me.”

And you’re leaning back, in your seat, away from him. Attempting to create any distance between the pair of you, unable to stand the giddy rush of joy that the proximity generated.

A moment passed.

And then another.

And deep down you pleaded, with conviction similar to that of a desperate man crying out for God, that the floor would fall in, taking you with it and allowing you some leeway to escape.

Gojo cocks his head, blue eyes scanning your panicked face before he sighs and stands back up again, resuming his position of elevation before you.

“Why?” His voice lacked the sentiment of interrogation, he couldn’t find in himself to dwindle on anger, he missed you and he selfishly wanted you to know it, to feel guilt in your mistreatment.

“Gojo.” You started, moving your eyes away from his face to glare at the book your reading instead.

Were you sweating? You felt like you were. Oh God.

Jujutsu sorcerers were not supposed to fall for another, it was an unspoken rule shared between sorcerers.

An unspoken rule that constantly plagued your thoughts when you were near Gojo. And so, you decided confidently to yourself that you could easily get over this silly personal flaw. Surely it would be easy.

But Gojo isn’t an easy man, and falling out of love with him followed that damn trend.

At every turn of your head, your gaze found his, longing for him to catch your eyes and reassure you with his presence, boisterous, like how he handles everything. And at night, when you tossed and turned, the cruel Summer heat forcing you to wither in your bed, you wondered if he could ever dream of you like how you longed for him.

It was pathetic really.

And so yes maybe you were avoiding him.

But you were doing it with good intentions!

You weren’t about to burden him with your childish wish for his unreturned feelings. Not in this world, under these circumstances, not when he was already holding the weight of being the strongest.

“Is there something bothering ya?” Gojo paused, “Cause y’know you only have t’ ask, and I could take care of it.”

And you wanted to cry.

Because Gojo Satoru is loud, and unabashedly himself, but he cares in silence, through actions hidden behind a loud laugh and a cocky grin.

“No, no it’s nothing really.” You had to do something, to say anything.

“Nothing? I haven’t seen you in days Y/N.”

“I’ve just been busy…” You mumble, fidgeting awkwardly in your chair.

“Oh yea? With what? Reading?” Gojo scoffed, his shoulders dropping in poorly hidden exasperation.

Your cheeks burned as you nodded, unable to form words, “And missions too I guess.”

“I asked Yaga, you haven’t been on a mission since September.”

Fuck.

“Preparations for missions then.” You cringed at yourself, lowering your head in the shame of being caught in your own shitty lie.

“Come on Y/N cut the bullshit.” Gojo all but whines, “I know somethings off, I know you.” You look at him then, his shoulder slumped, and face pouting, and you felt horrible.

“It’s really nothing Gojo I swear.”

“See there!” Gojo jumped, his eyes wide with determination, a look you only ever see on him in the middle of a mission. “You called me Gojo, you never do that, it’s Satoru to you, just Satoru.”

“You’re upset because I’m not calling you by your first name?” You asked, unable to break eye contact with him.

“You use to call me Satoru.” He huffs, crossing his arms.

You had to get out of there, the fact that your confession was all but resting on your tongue scared you beyond words, and you moved to pick up your stuff.

Then you felt his hand touch yours and your froze.

“What’s going on inside that head of your Y/N.” He was so close, so, so close. You could feel the warmth of his chest that was almost pressed against your arm, “Please.”

And you crumbled, because your weak and you could never escape the way you felt when he was near you, how you could barley hold yourself back from leaning into his chest and breathing in his scent.

“Satoru.” You whispered, your confession hushed, your head down and eyes closed, “I think I like you.”

And silence.

Silence.

Silence

And you were running walking away, avoid, avoid, avoid, your feet moving fast, abandoning the books you had brought because oh my god you had just told Satoru Gojo that you liked him and that was stupid, you’re stupid, everything was stupid and-

You were pulled back into him, effortlessly turned around so that your face was in his chest, the sound of his chuckling encasing your shameful state.

“The fuck are you laughing for?” You protested, unsuccessfully trying to wriggle your way out of his embrace, his arms circling you close.

“You’re pretty when you’re embarrassed y’know?”

And you had to hold yourself back from punching him right then and there, because of course Satoru Gojo knew you liked him, of course he was teasing you.

Nothing can escape those damn eyes, and he’s smarter than he lets on.

“You’re such an asshole I hope you know that, as soon as I leave this room I am never speaking to-’

Your rambles were cut short when you felt a tiny kiss on your forehead, and you finally looked at him fully, only to see the softest expression on his face as he looked down at you.

“I think I like you too Y/N.” He winked, his hand tracing the indent of your spine as he pulled you back into a hug, rocking you gently.

And you hugged him back, finally allowing yourself the closure you had dreamed of for months.

End.

feel free to leave a request !!

masterlist here <3

( authors note: do we all wanna hear a mini rant about how the girl i fucking adore just got a boyfriend and my heart is in SHAMBLES- anyway i wrote this to cope pls enjoy,,, i love u thank u for reading have a great day <3 )

[surielstea]

In The Act

Based on this request.

Pairing: Modern!Azriel x Reader

Summary: In which Cassian catches Azriel and Reader who had been trying so hard to keep their relationship a secret.

Warnings: fluff | Az openly being a perv

2.6k words

"We've got to get ready Az," I murmur into his bare shoulder and he groans, pulling the sheets over our heads. I look up at him in the darkness of the blankets. "We're going to be late," I warn but he doesn't reply and rolls over, half of his body crushing me into the mattress.

"We should just stay here all day," He says, his voice still deeper than usual with the effects of sleep.

We were supposed to meet our friends for a late breakfast in less than half an hour but Azriel and I haven't even left the bed yet.

"Az, c'mon," I ran a hand through his hair, tussling it from his face while he rolled off of me, gripping my waist and taking me with him, forcing me on top of his chest.

"I'm not ready to stop being your boyfriend yet," He sighs and a smile tugs at my lips at the sentiment. "You don't have to stop, just don't mention it," I shrug, leaning forward and pressing a tender kiss to his lips which he returned with equal devotion.

We had been keeping our relationship secret from the rest of our friends for the past month, it had been only a week after I broke up with my previous boyfriend when Az and I got together— and though I trusted everyone in my friend group to keep me and Az a secret, I couldn't risk word getting out and being eternally slut shamed for the rest of my young adulthood.

"Just wait it out a few more weeks alright? Then I promise you can tell everyone I'm all yours," I hum with a cheeky smile, slowly dragging my hands up his arms and then around the nape of his neck so my chest was flush with his.

"All mine," He says with a look in his eyes that made my heart swell.

"But only if you get ready," I slide from his lap and off the bed, despite his protests.

"Gods, you're gorgeous in the mornings," He admires as he watches me stretch, his eyes particularly staring at the way my shirt lifts to expose the curve of my ass when I extend my arms upward. I yawn and take off the oversized tee, walking towards the closet in nothing but my underwear. "So gorgeous," He mumbles, mostly to himself so I pretend not to hear, but my soft smile remains.

I picked out a simple summer dress, a pale blue color with thin straps that accentuated my figure nicely. I turn to my boyfriend, looking at him, still sprawled out in the bedsheets unabashedly staring at me with so much adoration in his gaze. The warm blankets were welcoming enough, but with him in it, the bed might as well have been screaming my name.

I walk closer, closing the distance between me and the bedside. His eyes light up like he recognizes that I'm about to crawl back into bed, but instead of clambering over him, I lean down, my nose brushing his. "If you're not ready in the next ten minutes I'm revoking kisses for the rest of the week," I warn and his eyes widen a fraction, then they oddly relax.

"You couldn't keep that up if you tried," He says with a polished grin. I shrug and then begin to back away but he catches me by the back of my neck and keeps me close. "Wait I'll get ready, just give me a kiss," He immediately switches his tone and I can't help but give in, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his lips.

"Now do I need to help you get dressed or can you get ready by yourself?" I tease as soon as I pull away and he shakes his head, playfully pushing me away as I giggle.

The car ride had been silent for the most part, other than the music playing steadily from the radio and my botched singing. But Azriel didn't mind, just placed his hand on my thigh and continued driving with a soft hum emitting through his lips.

"You ready to ignore me all breakfast?" I say with a cheeky smile as he pulls into the parking lot.

"Don't remind me," He groans and I only laugh with a light-hearted attitude. He puts the car in park and looks at me with a pout.

"I appreciate you for being patient with me," I cup his face in my hands. "I promise I'll be so good to you tonight," I grin, leaning over the center console and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"I just want to look at your ass in public without Cassian calling me out," He mutters and I chuckle, giving him an amused grin.

"How romantic," I taunt, ghosting the words over his lips. "And, because I want to take you on dates," He argues.

"Oh, I'm sure," I say, my words laced with sarcasm.

"Swear it, I can't wait to take you to your favorite restaurants," He said, fingers dancing along my thigh. I wait for him to finish that sentence. "And so I can see you in those obnoxiously tight dresses."

"There he is." I grin.

He rolls his eyes and presses his lips to mine, soft and tender, a silent goodbye because he knows that for the next hour, he won't be able to stare at me with every chance he gets. "I'll go in first, alright?" I whisper softly against his lips and he nods, pulling away and slumping into his seat.

I open the car door and give him one last look before closing it behind me. We carpooled so often it had become routine to enter a place separately, either he or I would go in first, wait a few minutes, and then the other would enter so as to not raise suspicion.

On my way inside I spotted Cassian and Nesta approaching the entrance so I held the door open, greeting them with a smile. "Morning," Cassian wiggled his brows at me and I creased my own, confused at his awfully amused tone. I look to Nesta for answers but she offers none and only gives me a smirk, doubling my confusion.

I walk behind them, following them to a table where Rhys, Feyre, and Morrigan already sat chatting. They all looked up at us with wide smiles as we seated ourselves, leaving two empty chairs to the right of me.

"I love your dress," Morrigan said from my left side, pinching the fabric between her painted nails. I smile over at her.

"Thanks, Mor," I bump her shoulder.

"How do you look so good so early in the morning?" I ask and she beams.

"It takes hard work to look this magnificent," She fans herself and I chuckle.

"It seems to pay off—" I stop my next words when someone sits beside me. I turned my head to spot Azriel doing his best to ignore me, but he was awfully obvious with the way he inched his chair closer to mine whenever adjusting his position.

"Az I haven't seen you in forever, where have you been?" I tease him, deciding that this game would be a cruel kind of fun. He looks to me, clearly unamused. But the grin on my face is contagious and sooner or later I have a gentle smile coming to his features.

"Been busy with work," He shrugs. "Plus I've been talking to this new girl," He adds.

"Who?" Morrigan gasps, now entirely interested in the gossip.

"When can we meet her?" Feyre asks with an eager smile.

"Do you like her?" Rhys crosses his arms over his chest.

"Yes, and not anytime soon," He warns the golden brunette.

"Is she the one?" I impose as a mere taunt but he looks to me with utter seriousness and a lack of hesitance.

"I think so," He answers, and something about his voice was so very honest. It was hard not to crumble into his arms, hard not to press my lips against his and melt into his every crevice.

Cassian coughs and we all look at him in concern, dropping the subject of Azriel's new girlfriend, but the tall male only dismisses us with a wave of his hand as he drinks from his water. "Don't tell me the party started without me," A familiar cold voice stated and we all looked to Amren with cheerful smiles as Rhys said, "We wouldn't dare."

Halfway into eating our food Azriel had gotten a text. I was acutely aware of everything he did, so when he pulled out his phone to check the message and choked on his food I startled. The male rarely gave away any form of a reaction so when he jumped we all looked at him confused.

But he only looked at Cassian, then to me. He discreetly passed me the phone beneath the table and then continued eating.

The message had been from Cassian, and it was not words but an image, one of me and Azriel in his car, noses touched, staring at each other with a pure expression of love. The image rocked me. Not only because it had been revealed that Cassian knew, and most likely Nesta, too, but because of the way he looked at me. I hadn't realized how obvious it must've been to all our friends that we were irrevocably in love with each other.

I look to Azriel, then to Cassian, panicked. Cassian mindlessly dug into his food as if he had no idea what he had just stirred.

"Excuse me, I fear I've grown faint," I stand, making a show out of clutching my stomach. "Oh no, do you need anything?" Feyre said with pure concern that I admired. "I'm sure it'll pass, excuse me," I clear my throat tucking my chair in then navigating my way towards the washroom.

"I'm going to check on her," Azriel silently got up, dismissing himself. "Cass, I could use some assistance,"  He added and the male who was gorging himself on food stopped his eating, only to look up at his brother. "Right," He set his fork down and chased after Azriel who did not wait for a reply and began to rush after me.

I stood in the secluded hallway, back leaning against the door of the female bathrooms. Two males approached and I squared my features, wondering what part it was I would be playing in front of Cassian. I looked to Azriel for answers but his stoic features offered me none.

"Care to explain?" Cassian immediately interrogated and Azriel shifted to my side so we were both facing the other male, a clear line drawn between us.

"What do you mean Cass?" I ask, feigning innocence. He deadpanned, but inevitably pulled his phone from his pocket and brought up the incriminating photo, noses touching, hands all over each other.

"That's not me," Azriel denies.

"Oh really?" Cassian zooms in on the image, putting Azriel's face so clearly on display. We both swallow thickly.

"Every person has seven doppelgängers each, must be one of them," The male shrugs innocently and I look at him with creased brows, he had to have known how ignorant that had sounded, right?

"You have the same tattoos," Cassian narrows his eyes at his brother, as if he even had to argue. He had photographic proof in his very hands, there was nothing more to be said.

"So it's just a coincidence that both of your doppelgängers are at this diner right now and I just so happened to see?" He arches a brow and we both shrug. He looks to us, then to the image, then back to us as if we were genuinely convincing him.

"Alright fine, it's us," I confess and Azriel looks at me slightly shocked, I had been the one hiding this from them for so long, it was my rule. There was no way he was going to let some stupid coincidence ruin everything he's been trying so hard to hide. "I had something in my eye, she was helping me get it out," Azriel cuts in and I crease my brows, gazing at him with an odd look. "It looks wrong I know but we're not like that, could you imagine?" The male looks at me with a scoff and I feign a laugh at the idea. "Me and Az? Psh, never," I wave him off and Cassian's features settle. "Not in a million years," Azriel seconds, patting my head the way one might to a little sister, the action making me viscerally cringe but I managed to contain it with a smile.

"Alright, whatever you say," Cass mumbles, either believing us or giving up entirely because he knows we won't give in, he puts his phone back into his pocket with a defeated expression and some part of me feels bad for lying, he had us trapped in a corner and we just kicked him until he let us go. I look to Azriel, silently communicating my pity. He shakes his head no, but I keep nodding with a mischievous smile.

"Hey, you've got something on your lip," I say, bringing my hand up to his jaw then rising onto my toes and pressing a gentle kiss to his mouth. His hand wraps around my waist, pulling me closer greedily. I press a hand to his abdomen and push him away because I know he wouldn't have let me go otherwise. "There, got it," I swipe my thumb over his bottom lip and he only stares at me with such wonder in his eyes, like he had never seen anything greater.

I look back to Cassian and he just stands there, stunned. "Am I dreaming?" He mumbled and I only laughed while Azriel's hold tightened around me.

"You can tell Nes, but no one else alright?" I warn.

"Wait— I don't get more information than that?" Cassian whisper-shouted and I shook my head. "No, no, no. I deserve an explanation, Azriel has been talking my ears off for years about how badly he wants you—" Cassian begins to expose but my boyfriend smacks a hand over the other male's mouth before he gets the chance to finish.

"We don't have to get into the logistics, we'll explain later, we've been gone for too long," Azriel grits out then removes his hand. "Go on now." He shoos him with a hand gesture that makes his brother grit his teeth, but inevitably he spins on his heel and stomps away.

I let my concealed amusement bubble out the moment he turned the corner, out of earshot. "We'll tell the others tomorrow, I doubt Cass can keep his mouth shut for long," I point out and Azriel nods with a chuckle, loosening his hold around my waist. "Alright, c'mon," I intertwine our hands, tugging him down the hall but he pulls me right back to him, my body pressing into his chest with the sudden change of momentum.

"Hold on, you've got something on your lip," He repeats, his thumb pulls at my bottom lip and I roll my eyes with a soft grin, rising onto my toes and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, warmth spreading through my body as he fills me entirely with tenderness.

"Is it gone?" I mumble when he pulls away a fraction. His gaze wanders over my lips.

"Let me check," he leans back in and I giggle into his mouth, overcome with endearment as butterflies soar in the pit of my stomach.

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[traceybrakes]

Let's Talk About Un-ironicizing Art!

In light of a lot of the conversations i've seen surrounding Death Grips and recent events concerning them, I want to take the time to point out that this is a good time to start thinking about how we engage with art on the whole!

For a long time, the irony poisoned method of consumption went unchecked in all facets of internet culture. As an internet musician in current day, I have noticed a sharp disconnect between artists and enthusiasts/casual listeners when it comes to attitudes surrounding music specifically, though I've witnessed it permeate all forms of art in some way.

I see people who have grown scared to engage on deeper levels, intentionally severing any resonant connections or knowledge learned from a piece of media before it has the chance to take root. In short, dare to be vulnerable! Dare to enjoy something on the basis that you yourself resonate with it, and not for any other nebulous reasoning. When masses of people relegate art to a spectacle, not only do artists become more likely to be disenchanted with the passions that fuel their work, but the consumer base ultimately suffers as well. All art at that point becomes less an extension of ourselves, less a vehicle to explore our identities, and is rendered a meaningless hulking sludge, or worse, the opponent to an already shrinking and narrow worldview.

Be not afraid to be unabashedly in love with the work that inspires you. Be not afraid to have the things you love misunderstood by by some. When you engage with work new and old, make sure to do it for yourself. Making and consuming art is inherently selfish, but being selfish is not inherently misguided. Allow yourself to learn, grow, discover, and repeat that cycle until the day you die.

To speak more candidly about my own experience, throughout the course of my life, there has been art that I've held near and dear to my identity, and own journey of self discovery that I seldom find others who hold the same sentiments to. I've always found this exciting. Exciting to hold something close to my chest as something so personal, and even more exciting when I can ease up on that grip when I find someone who I can share that with. However, I've also been through the throws of how the internet tends to chew up and spit out art that generally isn't understood by the many. I've fallen victim myself to the hive mind mentality that circles some artists and the cult of non-identity around them. This off-color ouroboros of knowing all about an artist's work and simultaneously upholding this facade of vapid complacency. I've come to the conclusion that if being openly supportive and connected to an artist's work or a particular piece of work automatically renders a person uninteresting and unambiguous at the very least, then I will live happily as an uninteresting open book. At the worst times, we see this line of thinking contribute to Death Grips being mocked and belittled en masse by people who are unwilling to engage with their art before they even get that far. It's heartbreaking, to me at least to see people put so much effort, emotion, and passion into transforming culture for the better to be rewarded with a crowd that's plugging their ears.

I realize I run the risk of sounding pretentious, self indulgent, or even patronizing to an extent; I apologize because that isn't my intention, I'm hoping to see gears shift at least on a micro level surrounding attitudes towards art appreciation. Remember to dare to be in love holistically with the art you engage with! Speak of the things you love in a way that makes that clear to others, and consider your peers to do the same! You and the people around you can only be better off for it.

[love-letters-for-wise]

Warm Smiles With Few Words (Wise x gn!reader)

[ Wise x Shy!gn!reader | Reader may be dubbed too polite (self-opinion) | No beta read, we die like ethereals | Possible ooc]

Wise couldn't pinpoint exactly when he fell for you.

You, one of the regulars that visited Random Play. You, that came to see something alone most of the time. You, that exchanged almost nothing with anyone here. Not Belle, and not him. Heck, he had never even shared anything personal with you. And you, vice versa.

The most he had talked with you was whenever you purchased a video to watch. When you handed him a video you picked, you would hand it like it was something valuable--which it was to him and Belle. But not many held the same sentiment. They were just videos, after all.

But perhaps, that wasn't the only reason.

Whenever he or Belle assisted you, you would smile so unabashedly. It's not the formality type of smile--the one that's faint and rigid; he thought. No. Your smile was always warm, vivid--lasting.

Whenever he thought of you, it would always be with your smile. Even he and Belle nicknamed you "Smiley" whenever it's just the two of them. Which was funny, because you weren't the talkative type. Apart from brief descriptions of a video you're looking for the day, the only word that had ever escaped from you consistently was "thank you" and "please".

Such small actions, and there you were in his head rent-free; his heart palpitated whenever you appeared--either in his conscience or in front of him. He'd been wanting to talk more things with you; to know you more.

But it was hard for him. No, he just lacked the courage--and maybe had a bit too many things overthought.

"If you don't take action anytime soon, you won't get the chance--ever."

While he appreciated Belle knocking some sense into him, he hated it now that he seemed to be competing against time. He just hoped he wouldn't chicken out again.

The sound of a door opening got him out of his mind. It was you.

As if waiting for your attention, even if just a fragment before you went further to the store, his eyes remained on you as you helped the door close properly. When your head turned at him, your smile made its way to your face--a more toned-down version, but still warm and as charming nonetheless.

He smiled back with a small wave, watching as you disappeared between the shelves. He could ask Belle to see the store while he watched the video you would pick for the day, together. He just hoped you wouldn't mind. And that he wouldn't chicken out. Again.

[hgfictionwriter]

Bliss

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie and you are on your honeymoon. She can't keep her hands off of her new wife.

Warnings: Smut. Pool sex, facesitting, slight overstimulation, etc.. Language as well.

A/N: Okay. I'm a little out of control on this one. Buckle up because it's long. My imagination went a little crazy. Based on this request.

"Jessie, come look at the pool. It looks beautiful at night with all of the lights."

Jessie hummed as she came up behind you, gently pressing herself against your back and wrapping an arm around your waist. She tilted her head down to lay a soft kiss at the base of your neck. You chuckled lightly at how her breath tickled your skin.

"Want to take a dip?" She asked, subconsciously swaying both of you gently from side to side as you looked out the glass doors of your honeymoon suite.

You turned your head back to look at her with a quiet smile. "That sounds perfect."

You both got changed into your swimsuits and Jessie went in first. Once she was in she turned and reached up to offer you her hand. You took it and let her guide you into the private pool attached to your suite. Tall bushes and trees lined the area, ensuring privacy and freeing you from any prying eyes.

You smiled as she took a seat, the water resting just below her shoulders, and pulled you onto her lap. You readily obliged, wrapping your arms around the back of her neck as she held you.

"How is my wife liking her honeymoon so far?" She asked as she looked up to you. Your smile widened immediately at the acknowledgement of your new title. Marriage wasn't even something you necessarily knew you'd wanted growing up, but after meeting Jessie and falling in love with her, becoming her wife felt all too right.

"It's gorgeous," you told her as you leaned down to capture her lips in a kiss. "And how is my beautiful wife liking her honeymoon?" She grinned into the kiss.

"Even more amazing than I'd dreamed it would be," she told you. Even with the recessed lights around the pool, the area was fairly dark and you weren't sure if she could see your blush.

You'd been together for several years and it still warmed your heart when she spoke so romantically with you. Jessie wasn't known as an openly sentimental person, so for her to make such statements so unabashedly with you still made you feel special.

You deepened your kiss and thumbed her cheek tenderly. The past few weeks had been an absolute whirlwind with the wedding and all of the obligations and activities that went along with it. It felt like you two had been going full tilt for ages between the wedding, her competitions, and your work. You were grateful to be able to slow down and finally spend some time together, just the two of you. You knew she felt the same by how clingy she was leading up to this. Always with a hand on your back, her pinky hooked with yours, or her chin on your shoulder, with "I miss you" texts sprinkled throughout.

You loved that this composed - sometimes guarded - woman was so soft and loving with you.

"I can't believe you're finally my wife," Jessie whispered between kisses, awe in her voice.

"Took you long enough, Fleming," you teased, pulling a grumble out of her. Her fingers dug into your hips slightly as she gave you a pouting glare.

"I've been calling you my 'future wife' since year one," she protested lightly. You chuckled and kissed her placatingly.

"I know, my love. I'm just teasing. I never doubted your commitment or intentions."

"Good," she said with lingering disapproval. "Don't make me pull out years-old texts to friends and family where I told them I was going to marry you."

You pulled back and cocked your head curiously. "I don't know - I mean that sounds very appealing to me."

"Yeah, I'll bet," Jessie said as she rolled her eyes playfully and pulled you closer to her, wrapping her arms more fully around you and leaning down to kiss your collarbone.

"In the meantime," she went on, her voice now low, "I can think of some other ways to reassure you."

"Mm, you think?" You played along, letting your head fall back a bit and inviting her to kiss up your neck. "Tell me all about it." You felt her smirk against you.

"You know I'm really more of a doer than a talker."

Your body tensed up as you felt her tongue sneak out for a teasing lick before her lips closed on the sensitive skin of your neck and she sucked lightly. You rocked your hips in her lap without thought and she reached up to start massaging your breasts.

She took her time teasing you and small whimpers escaped your throat as the aching between your legs grew greater and greater for her.

"You really don't need these," she announced as she reached down to hook a couple of fingers into the band of your bikini bottoms and gave a tug. You reluctantly lifted off of her long enough for her to pull them down your legs and she discarded them on the pool deck.

When you settled back down onto her lap, she massaged your thighs with her strong fingers, her head tilted back as she watched you grind yourself down onto her lap in need. She smirked.

"God, I'm lucky. I have the most beautiful wife," she told you.

You gave a gentle laugh that was quickly cut off with a soft gasp when her hand nestled itself between your legs and her fingers began to explore between your folds.

"Oh my god," she said with a lazy smile as she looked up at you. "I can't believe this is all mine. You feel so amazing every time."

"God, baby, don't tease me. I need you," you told her as you rocked against her fingers, begging her to enter you.

You hadn't had sex since the night before your wedding. You weren't supposed to see each other - stupid superstitions and all - but you'd snuck out to meet, just to check in and because you missed each other. Well, it just so happened that your little rendezvous ended with her fingers deep inside of you, her lips on yours. Still, since then it had been longer than either of you liked because things had been so busy. You needed her badly.

She hummed and leaned up to kiss you.

"Whatever my wife wants, she gets."

A small groan of appreciation fell from Jessie's lips as she slowly sunk into you. She watched with eager eyes as your back arched and you let your head fall back in immediate pleasure.

"I love you so much," Jessie told you as she took your form in, cast in the soft glow of night. She bit her lip as you gripped her fingers. "You're so tight. I love it."

"Oh God, Jessie," you moaned softly as you slowly rode her fingers, aided by the buoyancy of the water, "I love the way you fill me."

Jessie's head rolled back against the edge of the pool as she bit her lip watching you. "Fuck, I love when you talk like that." You leaned into her, allowing your lips to brush against her ear.

"Like what?" You whispered, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth when you felt her shoulders tense and her free hand gripped your hips harder. "Like when I tell you I'm aching for you. How incredible it feels when your thick, strong fingers fill me. Stretching me."

You continued to ride her slowly, arousal building at how you heard her breathing grow heavier and she started to rock back against you with greater emphasis.

"How when you curl your fingers inside of me the way you do, it makes me weak in the knees. The way you play with my clit sends waves of pleasure through me. And how just the sound of your voice, the way you're breathing right now, the way you're rocking your hips against me, gets me dripping wet for you."

"Fucking hell, babe," Jessie cursed, almost in a hypnotic daze from your words. "You're going to make me fucking cum and I'm the one fucking you right now."

"Is that so?" You teased as you sat back to look at her, running your fingers through her hair before leaning down and kissing her deeply, grinding down into her hand harder.

She tilted her head up, readily meeting your kiss and then some before pumping into you with firmer, faster strokes. She smiled as you whimpered into the kiss, tensing up at the new sensation. She bit your bottom lip, giving it a tug.

"I'm going to make love to you again, and again, and again tonight," she whispered as she kissed along your jawline, bringing up her free hand to run through your hair before cupping the back of your neck and kissing along the side of your neck.

A low moan escaped you and your dug your fingers into her scalp. She groaned in response and nipped at youf as she continued to thrust skillfully into and out of you, her thumb circling your clit.

"Jessie," you panted.

"You look so gorgeous in the moonlight," she said. You opened your eyes to look down to see her watching you steadily with love and affection.

"I love you so much, Jess," you told her between breaths.

She let out a shuddering breath and leaned you back slightly so she could fully appreciate your form. Her free arm gripped you tighter and she started bouncing you up and down on her, pulling you down onto her fingers with greater force and picking up the pace.

Your mouth fell open and you felt that familiar tightening begin in your core. She knew the signs.

"Cum for me, baby," she told you as she watched you - this beautiful woman she could now call her wife, start to come undone on account of her.

You dug your nails into the base of her neck and dragged your fingers down. She leaned into the touch, not breaking her gaze from you for a second. You convulsed around her fingers and she continued to curl her fingers inside of you, drawing out your orgasm.

In time, your breathing slowed once more and the tension in your shoulders, legs and back melted away and you floated fully into her arms. She held you against her, her fingers still inside of you as she continued to lay lingering kisses along your collarbone.

Eventually she chuckled. You nudged her head with yours in question, still too spent to speak.

"The private pool was worth the extra money," she told you, drawing a laugh out of you. She squeezed you in her arms. "I love you."

When you were ready, you both got out of the pool and went inside to rinse off in the shower. Your hands were all over each other the entire time and you were locked in a hungry kiss. You'd just hit your climax a few minutes ago, but as her hands roamed your body and as you ran yours along hers, appreciating the meticulously sculpted dips and curves of her defined muscles, that familiar heat between your legs returned.

You were toweling off and you couldn't break your eyes away from her. Her tanned skin brought out her freckles and you couldn't help but swallow at the sight of her muscles moving and flexing as she dried herself off. You stepped forward and she gave you a curious look as you took the towel from her and began drying her off for her.

Soon, you gently pushed her back against the bathroom counter and began kissing down her stomach. Her abs twitched as you trailed your tongue down them. You dropped the towel to the ground and brought your hands up to her sides, letting your nails graze down until they rested on her hips.

You knelt down before her on the towel and looked up at her. She unknowingly licked her lips and leaned back into the counter, her hands now gripping the edges.

"You are absolutely perfect," you told her as you moved your hands down her muscular thighs and nudged them open.

She exhaled heavily and you saw her knuckles growing white already.

A taut moan escaped Jessie's throat as you leaned up and ran your tongue along her folds. You smiled at how wet she was - and it wasn't from the shower.

"I adore the way you taste," you told her as you tilted your chin up into her and continued to lick up and down her.

You watched as her head fell back and she rolled her shoulders out. You moaned into her. She was gorgeous to begin with, but with her head thrown back like that, it accentuated the chiseled structure of her jaw and the angles of her neck.

You leaned up into her further, rising on your knees more and you brought your hands around to grip her gorgeously sculpted ass. You kneaded the muscles there and she groaned low in her chest.

She let go of the counter and placed both hands on the back of your head, her fingers digging into you. You moaned into her and she started to bend her knees and rock into you mouth.

"Baby, you make me feel so good," she told you as she intermittently gripped your hair. You wrapped your lips around her clit and sucked hard, flicking the sensitive bud with your tongue. She let out a high moan and her knees gave just slightly before she caught herself.

She bit her lip with a low chuckle and looked down at you.

"I wish I had my wedding ring on," she breathed, locking eyes with you. "I want to see the band catch the light, my hand on the back of your head while you're on your knees for me."

Your eyes fluttered shut and you groaned heavily into her, the vibration causing her legs to give again and her hands tightened in your hair once more.

"You're gonna make me cum," she told you, her voice raspy as she rolled her hips against your mouth.

You continued unwaveringly and you heard her breathing grow strained and heavy. You opened your eyes when she moved one hand back to the counter, bracing herself. Her eyes were screwed shut, her jaw clenched and her thighs began to flex around your head.

"Oh fuck. Y/N." Your name echoed off the tile walls as Jessie tensed up around you and she inhaled sharply, practically whimpering as her orgasm took her.

Seeing her like this, riding out her orgasm, never, ever got old. It astounded you that you were the one that she let take her over the edge.

When she relaxed, she released your hair and her body slumped back against the counter. Her mouth was agape as she worked to catch her breath and her eyes were momentarily unfocused before honing in on you.

"Jesus," she said as she forced herself to stand back up. You rose from the floor, wrapping your arms around her waist and she gave a breathless laugh. "I wasn't expecting that."

"It's our honeymoon, baby," you told her as you narrowed your eyes playfully. "You can't have all the fun." She let out a single breath as a laugh.

"I don't know. I'd say I have been having all the fun so far." She looked at you wordlessly for a moment, a hint of a smile of her face before she cupped your cheek. "You're the one. I hope you always know that."

You smiled and gave her a kiss. "Well, feel free to remind me now and then."

She didn't speak right away, again just taking you in before suddenly her hands were under you and lifting you up. You squealed and wrapped your arms and legs around her as she carried you over to the bed. She set you down and climbed on, moving past you so she was laying on her back.

"On me," she told you. You smirked and crawled up the bed, swinging your leg over her waist and settling yourself on her hips. Your wet core made contact with her skin and she arched an eyebrow smugly at you.

"Like this?" You asked teasingly.

"You fucking know it," she affirmed with a smirk of her own. She gripped your hips and pulled you down against her as she rocked her hips up. "You're ready for me already, baby. Did seeing me cum for you turn you on?"

"You fucking know it did," you returned playfully.

Her eyes were bright as she watched you. She reached down and you lifted your hips to make room for her hand. She dug her head back into the pillow as her fingers slipped through your folds.

"I could never get tired of this. Every time I feel how wet you are for me it's like the first time all over again. God I love you."

"Well, I guess it's a good thing you made me your wife," you said as you ground yourself against her teasing fingers.

You threw your head back, a moan flowing freely from your throat as she sunk her digits into you.

"Say it again," she commanded. You came back to the moment and brought your head back down to look at her. She gazed up at you with hooded eyes.

"I'm your wife," you told her as you rose up on her fingers to the tips and sunk back down.

"You're my wife," she repeated with a satisfied smile, her other hand roaming up your side to cup your breast.

Words ceased as you started riding her. While outside in the pool was somewhat measured and sensual, now the motions were fast and hard as you rode her and she met you with fervour. Your head was thrown back and your needy moans filled the room as she filled you repeatedly to the brim before drawing out and sparking your desire all over again.

"God, you fuck me so good, Jess," you told her as she sent sensation after sensation through you. She grunted in response, eyes transfixed on you, and quickened her movements.

You were nearing your high when she stilled and held your hips in place.

A shameless whimper escaped you and you let your head fall back forward to look down at her in question. She didn't answer, she merely bucked her hips using the momentum to push you off and she shuffled down slightly before guiding you up the bed.

"Jess," you managed to say as she held you above her face.

"I want to taste you," she told you.

"Oh my god," you said, your legs already trembling as you knelt over her.

"I've got you," she said as she braced your thighs with her hands. "Come on, baby. I can take it," she encouraged. "You look fucking amazing from here." Her hands held you and she gently, but firmly pushed you down towards her waiting mouth.

A quick gasp escaped you as she reached up with her tongue.

"Jess, I don't know if I'm going to last long," you warned her. She took this as an invitation and pulled you down into her more fully. She laid her tongue flat on you and gave a few slow, soft licks before delving in.

You gasped again and leaned forward to brace yourself on the headboard. You glanced down to see Jessie, eyes closed, rolling her head side to side as she explored you, sending delicious pulses through your core while her biceps popped as she held you in place.

"Oh my god, Jess," you panted as you began to roll your hips against her tongue. Her grip tightened as she groaned into you.

The sounds of her lapping up your juices and moaning into you were driving you wild. Never mind the sight of her between your legs as she devoured you. You brought one hand down and gripped her hair.

"Jessie," you said as you felt your climax quickly approaching. She embraced it fully as she dug her fingers into your legs and tilted her chin into you.

"Fuck," you cursed as you began to spasm around her. You braced your hand on the wall as your legs threatened to give way.

Jessie held you steadily and moaned in appreciation as your arousal started to drip down her chin. She slowed her actions and gave you some reprieve. For now. You went to move off of her, but she held you in place.

"Baby," you half-pleaded, half-warned. Instead of letting you go, Jessie laid one slow, languid lick from your entrance up to your clit. You released a shaky gasp and your whole body shuddered.

Soon she was slowly lapping at you again and a series of "Oh my god"s fell from your lips as she sent more and more waves of pleasure through you.

She continued her attention and despite how amazing it felt, your legs were shaking and your thighs burned. You were so tired you could barely hold yourself up even with her help.

"Jessie, I can't," you panted.

She relented this time, and she reached up with one hand to brace your back and she rolled you both, somehow keeping her mouth fixed between your legs as she laid you out on your back.

The burning in your thighs was immediately pushed from your mind as Jessie tucked her knees under her, pushed your legs back and leaned her head further into you. You covered your face at the sensations that were rolling through your body and she worshipped you incessantly.

You pushed your head back into the mattress and dug your fingers through your hair as you felt Jessie trace her fingers around your soaking entrance. A heady moan escaped you as she slipped easily inside.

Her strokes were slow and patient as she continued to suck on your clit. You writhed beneath her and soon she lifted her head up, her fingers not missing a beat, as she began to kiss her way up your body. When her lips reached your neck she began to tend to the skin there with slow kisses.

"I love you so much," she said as she gently added a third finger, stretching you further.

"Oh my God, Jessie." Your voice was high with need and you were short of breath as you wrapped your arms and legs around her and clutched her tightly to you. She tucked her free arm under your back and pulled you close as she continued to tenderly stroke in and out of you.

"Y/N," she whispered, her head lolling against yours now, her lips grazing your ear. "I'm going to spend every day making sure you know how much I love you." Her fingers curled inside of you with slow, steady thrusts. "You'll never have to question it."'

Your moans increased and you both tightened your grip on one another. You could feel that coiling sensation deep inside of you building already and you dug your nails into her back.

Her nails dug into you and she teeth sunk into your skin briefly. You felt her back arching over you as she stroked you deeper.

“I can’t wait to keep building my life with you,” she declared, her own body writhing against you as she made love to you.

"If it was up to me," she said, voice husky as she panted above you, "you'd be leaving here with my baby inside of you."

Your mouth fell agape and you tossed your head further back, a shameless moan filling the room.

"Jess." Her name came out of your mouth as a needy whine. "Holy fuck. I'm gonna cum again."

A cry fell from your lips as another orgasm rocked you. You screwed your eyes shut, but it still felt like your vision went hot white. You mindlessly clawed at Jessie's back and she maintained her rhythm, coaxing you through before slowing to a stop and resting inside of you.

Your chest heaved up and down as you struggled to catch your breath. You didn't even realize she was laying soft, faint kisses along your shoulders as she waited for you to come around.

You weren't sure how much time passed before you were able to open your eyes and look at her. There had been other times where she'd pushed you to the absolute brink and you expected her to wear the same cocky look she normally would, but instead she was watching you with pure adoration.

"You're my favourite person in this whole world," she told you with a warm smile. You managed a small laugh.

"And you're mine."

She kissed your cheek and gave you a smirk. "You better get some rest. This is only day one, after all."

[descendant-of-truth]

Honestly? So much of Sonic Prime happens the way it does because Sonic is unabashedly, wholeheartedly neurodivergent, and I wanna talk about that in detail for several reasons

I think most people assume he has ADHD, and while I agree, I think they tend to leave it at "he's hyperactive and impulsive" when there's actually a lot more going on there.

For example, he lacks a filter. He says exactly what he's thinking, all the time, regardless of who's listening. I wouldn't be surprised if he does it as a type of vocal stim, considering that he talks to himself as much as he does to other people. Maybe he dislikes the way silence feels on his ears, too?

Something I noticed was that when Thorn gets on his case for this, asking if he ever stops talking, the way he says "eh, not really" sounds... almost resigned?

He could have easily said it in a more jokey way, but his tone (and the wide camera shot) gives me the impression that this isn't a trait of his that he feels especially positive about.

It's not cool or funny to him, at least not in this instance; it's just something he does, which further proves to me that it's more of an unconscious stim than anything else.

On the topic of the jungle world though, it also shows us a couple instances of him not being able to read others' intentions very well. Prim lies to him about knowing what the Prism shard is, and Thorn uses him to get to said shard - and despite how hostile they are, he takes both of them at their word.

He only realizes Thorn's intentions after she hits him across the clearing - not for the first time that day, mind you - and Sonic berates himself a little for not seeing this coming.

But it's not like this is the only time he has difficulty understanding intent; just look at his interactions with Shadow.

This is not the behavior of someone who understands why Shadow's picking a fight with him. He doesn't understand the implications of "you literally shook the world" because he doesn't know about the Weirder aspects of the explosion. In his mind, he just messed up a mountain.

Though I think his attitude implies another thing about his dynamic with Shadow that might explain why he was so quick to dismiss what he was talking about, which is. I don't think Sonic usually understands why they fight??

Shadow is a person of few words and Sonic has a hard time picking up on subtleties, that's a recipe for miscommunication already. And if Sonic's already predisposed to thinking that Shadow fights him Just Because, then of course he didn't take this particular instance seriously.

Though going back to "he only registered the physical effect of the explosion," Sonic is actually pretty consistent with understanding things that are tangible a lot better than anything else. Case in point: that One Palm Tree

His first reaction to seeing it presented as a gift is that it must be a trick. because he doesn't see the tangible point of the tree, and isn't enough of a symbolism guy to see the sentimental point of it, either.

Don't get me wrong, he is being insensitive here, but I don't think it's on purpose in any way. Look at his body language and expressions:

Even as he's getting on their case for being too sentimental, he's not unhappy or uncomfortable with them. He's just completely failing to recognize that this was supposed to be a big deal for them, so he's treating it way more casually than is appropriate.

Which is like. a classic social flub for neurodivergent folks

(Quick side note - this specific "huh" that he makes as Tails is flying away before Sonic realizes he's upset is a whole mood. I don't know how to explain it but this is Exactly what it feels like when you can sorta tell something's not clicking but you don't know what yet)

(Look at him. brain static)

I could go on with the detailed explanations but some of that would just be me repeating past posts I've made, so I'll leave it at "he is clearly not handling change well either" and link back to an example.

So anyway, this is what I meant when I said that so much of the show is impacted by Sonic being neurodivergent. It affects how we hear his thoughts as viewers, it affects his ability to understand and connect with his friends, it's why he dismisses Shadow, it's why he impulsively smashes the Paradox Prism, the list goes on.

And he's not stupid because of any of these traits, either. None of what I've described has to do with intelligence, but I've seen "Sonic is too dumb" as a reason to criticize the show, and that's just not what's happening here.

If anything, I'm actually really impressed with how well the writers have managed to portray a more nuanced take on what a character with ADHD would look like. Because he's not just being hyperactive and chatty, you can tell it affects how he perceives things too.

Which is a much bigger part of the overall experience, and it's really cool to see in a cartoon like this - and in the lovable main character, to boot! Who cherishes his friends despite his struggles to understand them! Why is it so good!

In conclusion Sonic is the ADHD king we both needed and deserved, thanks for coming to my TED talk

[taylorswiftstyle]

Chiefs vs Ravens | Baltimore, MD | January 28, 2024

Mejuri ‘Heirloom Ring in Garnet’ - $598.00 EB and Co ‘Tight End Ring’ - $14.00 Wear by EA x Baublebar ‘Chiefs Necklace’ - $43.99 Jacquie Aiche 'Large Marquise Diamond Pave Signet Ring' - $6,250.00 Wove Made x Michelle Wie West 'Custom Diamond Tennis Bracelet' - $5,680.00 (starting)

By contrast from her relatively non-descript outfit, Taylor went all out with sentimental and Chiefs-approved jewelry including her #SarahExact Mejuri ring. Not only is it very Taylor to wear her heart proudly in this fashion but it's also very Taylor to execute such a high/low mix here. From solid gold forever rings (I will personally vouch for that Heirloom ring from the rooftops), to custom and classy diamond-encrusted tennis bracelets mixed with pieces by women-owned (or women-designed) and locally-made designers. I've so loved seeing her continue to underscore her long-standing fashion pillars even into her game day fashion.

That's Taylor: An enviable mix of aspirational and approachable, all while being unabashedly emotional.

Photo by Rob Carr via Getty Images

[fickleduster]

✧. ┊   Random Thirst, lmao

※ bottom.sub, amab.reader ➤ cw: dacryphilia, overstim/dumbification, rimming, hand holding 😳, sum petnames, meanies I tell ya, I wrote this intoxicated so do with that what you will

Like the most adoring boyfriend that he was, he saw you as nothing short of a masterpiece, the most perfect boy he could ever lay his eyes on.

— Correction, hands.

And he made sure that you knew, too, (even if this sentiment isn't quite 'hidden',) he always found ways of showing his adoration with his hands; be it mindlessly tracing your skin or holding your own hand at every opportunity given, he had done so and much more.

"Stay still, baby."

... Even as he's eating you out, he has a hand intertwined with yours, with the other gently squishing your plush thigh.

Having you squirm under his mouth, legs locked on his head, and unabashedly moaning as if no one would hear... Without much said, it's obvious that he relished in having you reduced into a puddle; whether by his tongue or his cock, it's his pleasure to be of service for your wonderful body.

Even after what felt like hours since he started lapping at your hole, he had found himself wanting to coax more and more orgasms from your adorable cock. Even as your body's twisting and turning, tightly grasping at the dampening sheets under you, he just couldn't stop. It's just that you tasted so damn good.

You shiver upon hearing his voice, low and warm against your neck, "... Can't you handle a bit more, darling?"

It was then that you pleaded for the first time that evening— pleading that you can't keep cumming so easily from oral alone, pleading for his cock already. He wouldn't be able to stop the mockering chuckle that left his mouth.

That's when his free hand finds it's way to your slick hole, and a finger enters with ease.

Without even so much as a small thrust of his hand, your back had already arched upon a silent scream.

You had came for the nth time that evening.

"That's a good boy."

—

... It's almost animalistic, the sight of him lurching down to your equally sweaty form while he panted, mumbling obscenities with every shallow breath he took.

He could laugh, at how you're barely holding on as he forced your ass up. You're just as a babbling wreck as he was, head thrown back at every single thrust forced into your thoroughly slicked ass, body limp against his tight grip.

This was what you wanted, wasn't it? So why are you crying so damn loud when he forces the third load inside?

➶-͙˚༘✶

fushiguro toji, vox akuma, hex haywire, simon "ghost" riley, uzui tengen, chrollo lucilfer, quincy, tartaglia, kamisato ayato

[wilwheaton]

Imagine that for the remainder of his time on the court, Alito wore a MAGA hat during oral arguments. It might not tell us anything we didn’t already know about his unabashedly partisan sentiments. But it would still be a shocking demonstration of contempt for the role he is supposed to play as a judge.

Democrats shouldn't let Justice Alito get away with his flag scandals

[hisui-dreamer]

ode to the protective aide

Pairing: Sebek Zigvolt x gn!reader

Synopsis: you were one of the few in his life who could see past his rough exterior

Tags: drabble, fluff, slightly poetic hehe, reader is a simp for sebek

Word count: 605

Notes: happy birthday sebek!! this grumpy crocodile guy really wormed his way into my heart haha (•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

Masterlist

Your lover possesses a remarkable honesty that cuts through the veils of pretence and artifice with surgical precision. His words, though often delivered with the blunt force of a hammer, carry an authenticity that is both refreshing and intimidating. He doesn't sugarcoat his opinions or dance around the truth; instead, he lays bare his thoughts and feelings with a rawness that can leave others reeling in its wake. Whether he's heaping praise upon someone for their talents or delivering a harsh critique, you can always trust that your lover's words come from the depths of his heart, unfiltered and unapologetic.

Your lover harbours an unyielding disdain for the cold, a sentiment that becomes all too apparent in the subtle ways he seeks warmth and comfort. Though he may never openly admit it, you've noticed how he unconsciously gravitates towards you, seeking solace in the heat of your presence. Whether it's a casual brush of his arm against yours or the way he leans just a little closer during a chilly evening stroll, his subconscious need for warmth speaks volumes. You offer him the refuge he seeks each time without fail, enveloping him in your embrace and shielding him from the biting chill of the world outside.

Your lover possesses a curious tendency to wander through life with a certain air of obliviousness. Despite his sharp wit and fierce determination, there are moments when he seems to be operating on a different wavelength altogether. Whether it's getting swept up in the excitement of the moment or simply failing to grasp the subtleties of a situation, he has a knack for stumbling into the most absurd of predicaments. It's both exasperating and endearing to witness his frequent bouts of air headedness, but there's an undeniable certain charm to his innocence.

Your lover may exude confidence and pride in most aspects of his life, but when it comes to you, he is surprisingly easily flustered. Despite his fiery demeanour, his heart skips a beat at the mere mention of your name, and his usually loud voice softens to a barely audible whisper in your presence. You've seen the flush of colour that creeps into his cheeks when you compliment him, his words stumbling over each other as he struggles to articulate his gratitude. It's both amusing and endearing to watch him squirm under your gaze, his pride momentarily forgotten as he fumbles for the right words to express the depth of his affection. And in those moments, you can't help but feel a surge of love for the vulnerable, lovestruck man before you.

Your lover finds immense joy in providing for you, in being the pillar of strength upon which you can lean. Whether it's through grand gestures or small acts of kindness, he delights in seeing you smile, in knowing that he's the reason for the light in your eyes. He takes pride in ensuring your safety, standing as a fierce protector against any threat, real or imagined. In his arms, you feel sheltered from the storms of life, cocooned in a warmth that is both physical and emotional. For him, there is no greater pleasure than knowing that he can make you feel loved, cherished, and above all, safe.

Your lover is a whirlwind of contradictions, a puzzle with pieces that seem to defy logic. Yet, beneath the bravado and the bluster, there beats a heart that is fiercely loyal and unabashedly passionate. And in that, you find solace, knowing that despite his flaws, he loves you with a fervour that is as undeniable as it is intoxicating.

Your lover, is none other than Sebek Zigvolt.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

[moonbeamwritings]

Hitoshi has known Denki for long enough to know that receiving a TikTok link from him at 3AM is never a good thing, especially not when it’s accompanied by a text that reads “ayooo i wish you’d look at me like that” followed by a dozen drooling, weeping, and woozy emojis.

Squinting tired eyes at the screen, Hitoshi reluctantly taps the link. He’s already more than a little sleep deprived; what’s another minute wasted watching some stupid video? Except, Hitoshi’s heart quickens, his eyes widening when he sees himself onscreen, decked out in his hero costume.

It’s a video from a week ago, taken shortly after a villain attack. It was minor, no major injuries or destruction, but you both had lingered on scene until everyone was properly taken care of. In it, you and him are standing practically shoulder to shoulder, eyes scanning over something offscreen. Hitoshi watches with rapt attention as you giggle, dropping your hand to his elbow and staring up at him with a friendly smile. He can’t remember what he’d said that afternoon to make you smile like that, but warmth floods his cheeks as he recalls the feeling of your body so close to his and the sweet sound of your laugh. 

Whoever took the video lingers on his face long enough to catch the moment Shinsou’s expression shifts when you finally look away. No longer under your scrutiny, Hitoshi has the freedom to stare unabashedly, gaze shifting along the line of your side profile, a smirk tugging at his lips all the while. Before the video cuts away, Shinsou straightens his back and crosses his arms, widening his stance. The smirk doesn’t drop, though he has the decency to tuck it behind his binding scarf.

It loops and loops as Hitoshi’s mouth drops open in abject horror. Over and over again he comes face to face with the feelings he’d been trying, and apparently spectacularly failing, to hide. The video already has thousands upon thousands of likes and just as many favorites. The comments share Denki’s sentiments, ranting about how hot Shinsou is, how pretty and how lucky you are. How obvious the tension between you two is. Shit.

He falls down a comment thread filled with speculations that the two of you are already dating or that you’re hooking up, though some naysayers prefer to ship you with Deku or Dynamight. Nope, he thinks to himself when one commenter suggests you’ve been dating since high school. Just hopelessly pining. And Hitoshi’s face feels much too hot as he presses it into his pillow to muffle a long, embarrassed groan.

It feels weird, almost invasive, to see himself through someone else’s eyes, and sure, the conversation had happened on the sidewalk in broad daylight, but Hitoshi can’t fight the feeling of discomfort that lingers beneath his skin. He’s always been pretty reserved, quiet or pensive where other heroes may be more outgoing, so the video, and it’s climbing view count, leave him feeling put on the spot. Curse his dreams of becoming a pro-hero.

When he flips to press his back into the mattress and stare at the ceiling, he only hopes you haven’t seen it, lest you witness his crush on you on repeat (with an incessant pop song in the background). He texts Denki a few eye roll emojis and surrenders himself to the rapid beat of his heart and another sleepless night.

[shedidntevenswear]

I just think the way Taylor fully embraces the people in her partners’ lives is so indicative of what a big heart she has and what a good girlfriend she is. Like the “now that I see your brother as my brother” of it all was not just a Joe-exclusive sentiment. When she loves you she loves every single person in your village, too, quickly and unabashedly and I think thats such a magnetic quality.

[f6bron]

smitten.

pairing : iso x gn!reader

notes : established relationship, possessive!clingy!iso >.< , not proofread (fuck it we ball rahhhhh)

"I want you all for myself. If other guys look at you, I get worried that they might like you more than I do. But, oh well, no one can hold a candle to you beside me, babe."

In the confines of your office, the air seemed to hum with an unspoken tension. The day folded with you immersed in work, and Iso, seemingly with nothing better to do, hung around, his attention solely fixated on you. His usual demeanour had given way to an unexpected vulnerability, and his clinginess reached new heights.

“Baby, you need to let me go.” you gently insisted, trying to navigate through the sea of paperwork on your desk.

Iso responded with a low groan, nuzzling his face even further into the curve of your neck as he settled comfortably on your lap. 

“No… want you close… with me.”

“But I’m working on something…” you reminded him, attempting to gently pry his arms away from you.

“Don’t care.” he declared.

His arms tightened around your waist, creating a cocoon that seemed to shield you both from the outside world. His broader figure dwarfed yours, enveloping you in a protective hold that was as comforting as it was possessive.

Today, Iso was surprisingly clingier than usual, and you couldn’t fathom the reason why. Unbeknownst to you, he had witnessed the subtle advances of Phoenix and Gekko, two fellow agents who seemed to be flirting with you. The sight somehow ignited a possessive streak within him. However, your ever blissful ignorance left you unwittingly at the center of Iso’s affectionate turmoil.

“You gotta stay with me, forever.” he whispered, his voice muffled as he punctuated each of his words with tender kisses on your exposed skin. The sentiment lingered in the air, a promise of enduring devotion that resonated beyond the confines of the office.

Flustered by his words, you attempted to reason with him. “Baby, what if someone comes in–”

“Don’t care.” Iso interrupted, his determination unwavering. In that moment, it was evident in that, in his eyes, there was no competition. 

You are his and only his. And that was non-negotiable.

You sighed, conceding that today, you were losing the silent battle to free yourself from his embrace, as Iso’s neediness became more palpable. His actions spoke of a love that sought closeness, a love that refused to be hidden away.

“Y/N…? Are you cold? Your hands felt cold…” Iso inquired, a genuine concern etched across his features.

Meeting his gaze, you swear you just saw a love shape formed in his eyes, the depth of his neediness mirrored in his eyes.

“Y-yeah… a bit.”

Without his waiting for further discussion, Iso swiftly got rid of his jacket and put it on you.

“No, it’s fine! It’s not that cold–” you protested. However, Iso’s actions transcender mere temperature regulation. It was a symbolic gesture, a silent claim over you, as if to announce to the rest of the world that you belonged to him. 

Well, at least to his fellow agents whom he ‘appreciates’ so much.

He shushed you gently, placing a finger on your plump lips, a silent signal that, in this moment, your opinion was secondary to his desires.

“You look good wearing my jacket like that. Don’t take it off, okay?” he murmured, his words carrying a possessive undertone that turned you into a flustered mess.

Attempting to hide your face within the collar of his jacket, you found your wrists held by Iso, preventing you from doing so. His chuckle was a blend of playfulness and genuine amusement, a melody that underscored the unique between you two.

“Y/N ~! Don’t hide that pretty face from me, I want to look at you.”

In the midst of your work, Iso’s unexpected clinginess became a silent proclamation of his feelings. His laughter, his protective yet possessive gestures, and the adoration in his eyes painted a vivid picture of a man deeply and unabashedly in love with you.

Later that day. 

The headquarters’ kitchen, typically a bustling haven for the ever cooking-enthusiast Jett, but today was different. It was quiet, which provided a welcome escape from the hustle and bustle of the day. The soft hum of the refrigerator and the distant whirr of an espresso machine were the only sounds that filled the air as you entered to fetch some snacks.

Surprisingly, Phoenix was already there, and his eyes slightly widened with surprise as they landed on the oversized jacket covering almost your whole figure.

“Yo, Y/N, that jacket looks fire on ya! Stole it from Iso, eh?” Phoenix’s voice rang out, the unexpected echo shattering the usual quietness of the space. His mischievous grin added a playful edge to the comment, and you flinched, caught off guard by the sudden attention.

“Uh, I didn’t–”

“Hey, hey. How about you wear my jacket next time? I’ll even let you keep it—”

Before Phoenix could finish his sentence, a voice interrupted, cutting through the serene atmosphere of the kitchen. “Y/N?”

Turning toward the source, both you and Phoenix saw Iso’s towering figure leaned on the kitchen’s entrance frame with a warm smile.

A warm smile, which is only directed to you. 

Iso couldn’t help but admired the sight of you dressed in his jacket, which looked too big on you. He should take pictures of you with his DSLR later, he thought. For his own keepsake, of course. 

“What took you so long? I’ve chosen a movie to watch tonight, your all-time favourite.” Iso said, his eyes crinkling at the corners with a gentle teasing expression.

“But, I said you can choose whatever movie you want…” you said, trailing off as Iso approached. 

As the two of you were about to leave the kitchen, Iso seemingly put his hand on the small of your back, a possessive yet gentle gesture.

Phoenix, however, made a grave mistake.

Phoenix looked up, meeting Iso’s intimidating eyes as he planted a soft kiss on top of your head while keeping his gaze on the fire boy. In that moment, he realised he had unintentionally crossed the line. 

He fucked everything up.

The subtle shift in Iso’s demeanour, from playful to protective, sent a clear message.

Y/N was off-limits territory, and Phoenix had ventured too close to the edge. 

Without uttering a single word, Iso led you out of the kitchen, leaving behind a confused Phoenix. As the kitchen door slid shut, the lingering tension in the room dissipated, leaving Phoenix to reflect the consequences of his own selfish actions.

masterlist.

[hyvyinjie]

DESTINY.

TW! cursing, death.

angst! centric.

g. satoru x gn. reader.

DESTINY. that capricious force akin to the bittersweet conclusion of tragic fates, had long since wielded its cruel hand.

yet, amidst the delicate interplay of life and death, a singular anomaly emerged—satoru gojo—an irresistibly peculiar being adorned with gifted endowments bestowed by the very heavens themselves.

he, the self-proclaimed harbinger of destiny's blessings, carried within him a profound sense of purpose and significance.

alas, it is a lamentable truth that even the possession of such a grandiose title holds no power to rescue or shield those in need.

forlornly, we witness the bitter reality that the mere proclamation of a lofty designation cannot serve as a panacea to alleviate the trials and tribulations of others.

"don't even try closing your eyes."

young, naive and foolish. the honoured one beseeched, his countenance etched with an unmistakable worry—bereft of the customary shielding of sunglasses that customarily veiled sight of his otherworldly irises of azure.

his resplendent eyes—now bared—gleamed with a mesmerizing confluence of sentiments.

it was an unprecedented spectacle, witnessing him so palpably anxious and emotionally invested.

deep within, he harbored a profound remorse, cognizant of his inability to employ a reverse technique—that elusive skill—to aid you in this despair-induced juncture.

"shoko's on the way. she'll heal you."

"quit being so damn stubborn and listen to me."

he assured confidently, his typical arrogant utterances suffused with both conviction and hope.

yet, as he spoke—it appeared as though he inadequately grasped the gravity of your state or purposefully averted his gaze—fixating instead upon the illusory prospect of an inevitably fruitless convalescence.

no, you’re not dying.

he mindlessly repeated to himself—as if caught in an bewitching refrain that echoed ceaselessly within the chambers of his delusions.

the words—like a hypnotic melody—entwined themselves around his thoughts, weaving a tapestry of false reassurance.

in the grip of his illusions—he clung to this fragile mantra, desperately seeking solace in its rhythmic cadence.

yet, deep down, a flicker of awareness whispered of the truth obscured by his fervent repetitions.

reality—unyielding and immutable—loomed ever closer, despite his desperate attempts to stave it off with a haunting refrain.

with a blend of earnest gravity and feigned jocularity—despite the quivering timbre of his voice—he appended,

“don’t you dare die, or ill never let you live it down.”

his eyes bore into yours with an unwavering intensity that seemed to penetrate the tumult enfolding you—unveiling a vulnerability he seldom divulged to others.

in that gaze, the tenacity of his resolution and the profoundness of his connection to you became palpable—as if the burden of your well-being rested solely upon his shoulders.

“live it down, you say?..”

a desiccated chuckle escaped your lips as the wretch persisted. how imbecilic could this fool possibly become?

“satoru..”

not long after, your body convulsed with a fit of coughs triggered by the mere act of speaking, the fragility of your condition became starkly apparent.

yet, even still—it was unmistakable that he clung to denial, unabashedly rejecting the unassailable truth.

yes, you were dying—indeed, you were teetering on the precipice of demise.

there existed naught but remorse and lamentation.

"stop talking! for fucks sake, y/n—“

he inhaled a tremulous breath, as if seeking composure amidst a tempestuous tempest raging within his soul.

his eyelids clenched shut with an ardent fervor, as though he were frantically endeavoring to elude the clutches of reality in one final, desperate gambit.

“please—just..”

“just listen to me, and do as I say. please.”

with each uttered word, a sense of desolation burgeoned, casting a somber shade upon his countenance.

“y/n..”

yet, these words bore a weight surpassing mere despondency. every syllable dripped with a venomous essence, tainted by a profound self-abhorrence that seemed to turn inward.

it was as though his very voice had transformed into a conduit for self-loathing, a vessel through which frustration and disillusionment coursed.

he berated himself for completely contradicting his egoistical claims.

he despised—loathed himself.

he detested his own folly, castigating himself for what he perceived as a feeble inability to lend aid. the underlying contradiction between his self-aggrandizing proclamations and his actual capabilities stoked the fires of his self-directed animosity.

within the depths of his being, an infernal tempest raged, a battlefield of inner turmoil where he grappled with the demons of self-hate. the echoes of his own voice reverberated, seemingly magnifying the intensity of his internal strife, amplifying the magnitude of his self-loathing.

he loathed the hold you have on him, stirring up a storm of emotions within his being. the turmoil you evoked within him was a source of deep resentment.

but above all else, what he despised the most was the inexplicable extent to which he cared for you.

he despised the fact that, despite everything and anyone else, he couldn't help but like you, adore you, and ultimately choose to love you.

the intensity of his hatred stemmed from the realization that his heart had chosen a path that he had not intended to follow. he resented the vulnerability that loving you exposed within him, and the power you held over his emotions.

in the depths of his inner turmoil, he grappled with conflicting emotions. while he may have wished to resist and deny the depth of his feelings, the truth remained that his heart had made its choice, despite his best efforts to resist it.

this contradiction between his hatred for the circumstances and his genuine affection for you created a profound inner struggle, intensifying his frustrations and exacerbating the complexity of his emotions.

it frustrated him, angered him even, that his emotions had become entangled with your presence. the vulnerability that accompanied this caring, this attachment, felt like a weakness he resented.

in his innermost thoughts, he grappled with the paradox of his feelings. the profound disdain for the impact you had on him clashed with the undeniable truth that his heart held a deep and unexplainable affection for you.

it was a conflict that gnawed at his core, leaving him torn between his aversion and the undeniable pull of his care.

"oh?..what have we here...”

despite the gravity of your state, you conjured the wellsprings of fortitude to articulate phrases—effectively jolting him from his reverie, as he clung to your every word like a vital thread. each syllable echoed with a poignant cough, reverberating through the fragile contours of your agonizing form.

the inexorable verity loomed, an inescapable specter—your grievous wounds would inevitably claim your life, a harsh reality especially within the realm of sorcerers from which there was no evasion.

and so, in a hushed whisper, your voice tapering off amidst another bout of coughing, the violence of it serving as a stark reminder of your vulnerability. yet, deep within, you harbored a profound cognizance of the path that lay ahead.

"satoru gojo... of all people.”

you provocatively taunted, your words imbued with both resignation and a trace of sorrow.

in that very moment, you apprehended the cruel irony of their circumstances, the whimsical caprices of fate that had entangled their lives. the weight of your impending fate pressed upon you, and you couldn't help but ponder if it would elicit any emotions within him.

"--are you going to cry?”

with a subtle curl gracing the corner of his lips, he meticulously observed every movement, every flicker in your eyes, and every breath you took. he made a conscious effort to etch each detail into the recesses of his memory. It seemed as though you possessed an uncanny ability to perceive his emotions with remarkable clarity, despite his best efforts to conceal them.

however, as his expression shifted to one of solemnity, a faint trace of melancholy colored his features.

the question you posed had struck a deeply personal chord within him, one he never anticipated having to confront.

your words resonated within the sixteen-year old male, his unwavering gaze fixed upon yours. a sense of anguish mingled with the realization that you, y/n, had seen through him like an open book.

unable to suppress the tears that welled up in his eyes, he swiftly brushed them away, striving to maintain a composed facade.

"no, of course not.”

his response emerged, delivered with the expected composure and confidence. yet, a glimmer in his eyes betrayed the facade, hinting at an inner turmoil that consumed him.

the conflicting emotions etched upon his countenance, the raw sorrow intertwined with resolute determination, were familiar sights you had come to recognize during your time together.

at the very least, he had been stirred by the irony of the situation. but what lay beneath the surface?

his lips curved into a solemn smile, though his eyes conveyed a different tale altogether.

he couldn't help but smirk slightly in response to your teasing, his unwavering irises never once straying from your perfect ones. how dare you utter such words...

you managed to elicit a smile from him, causing his typically smug facade to momentarily contort into a faint frown, though his expression swiftly returned to its customary coolness.

the gravity of your condition had not escaped the impact it had on the sorcerer standing before you. however, it appeared that the full severity of the situation seemingly had yet to fully dawn upon his young fellow. and with mere moments remaining before your impending demise...

"me? cry—over you? what a joke.”

he retorted, pausing momentarily. his smirk faltered—as if on the precipice of speaking with a tone devoid of jest—as if the barriers he had erected had momentarily crumbled.

"do not flatter yourself. tears may suite me, but I don’t need that amplifying my perfection.”

regardless, his voice remained low and harsh, devoid of the usual playful edge and trademark amusement that characterized his interactions with you.

though the expression in his eyes remained unaltered, a certain stiffness was evident in his speech, as if he were still uncertain where else to direct his overwhelming thoughts and emotions.

as he continued to observe you, a solemnity settled over his previously neutral features. you could sense his burgeoning grief, his thoughts racing against the inexorable passage of time, yearning desperately for even the faintest glimpse of a solution.

his response was a feeble attempt to mask his emotions, his voice quivering, and his eyes still shimmering with unshed tears.

though his words denied it, his body language spoke volumes.

his pretty cerulean irises glistened with unshed tears, his heart pounding in his chest. he had anticipated her demise for far too long, believing he had grown accustomed to it, deeming it an inevitable outcome.

but now, as your final breaths escaped your lungs, the weight of your departure struck him with the force of a thousand bricks, reality seeping in for the first time. he had failed. his overwhelming pride and hubris had blinded him to the possibility of defeat. he had failed his long-time peer—his classmate, his friend.

the weight of failure bore heavily upon him, for he believed he had let down the one person who held the most profound place in his heart—the one he cherished above all others romantically, the soul he held dear.

the depth of his love for you only amplified the agony of his perceived failure. he blamed himself for not meeting the expectations he had set, for not being able to provide the happiness and fulfillment you deserved. the pain of falling short in your gaze was an unbearable burden he carried—leaving him haunted by the knowledge that he had failed the one person who truly held his heart.

"...yes, i am going to cry, you idiot."

contrary to his perception, it was not you who struggled to accept your fate, but rather, it was he who clung to seemingly everlasting denial.

while he grappled with the reality of the situation, you had long since come to terms with the inevitable outcome. you had made peace with the circumstances that destiny had dealt, finding solace in the acceptance of what lay ahead.

the dichotomy between your acceptance and his denial created a rift, deepening the emotional chasm between you.

despite your readiness to face the truth, he remained entrenched in a state of refusal, unable to confront the impending reality.

the exquisite interplay of sentiments, wherein the embrace of acceptance magnified the enigmatic dance between your emotional odysseys, illuminated the paradoxical tapestry of contradictory.

eager to traverse the expanse, he yearned to forge a bridge, yet were ensnared by the magnetic allure of diverging destinies—proximity rendered illusory, a poignant dance of nearness and seeming remoteness.

while your hearts may have harmonized in tempo, the dissonant discord into the fabric of your emotional realms served as a haunting refrain, a vivid reflection to the divergent trajectories of your conclusions.

if only the revered one possessed the authority to sculpt fate with a touch of influence, weaving threads of destiny like a master artisan shaping the sinuous hell of time.

[sleepingdeath-light]

stoic but mischievous mistress hcs ; claude & sebastian

requested by ; anonymous (02/01/22)

fandom(s) ; black butler

fandom masterlist(s) ; hub | main cast | anime only

character(s) ; claude faustus, sebastian michaelis

outline ; “Hello! I'm so sorry if requests are closed, if they are feel free to ignore this, but if not. Could you please make HC for Claude &/or Sebastian in a contract with a reader as serious and calm as Claude, but reader always manages to (and gets a kick out of) make them fluster by tricking them in to accidentally show or confess their attraction/affection for her? I love your writing <3”

warning(s) ; canon typical references to violence

Claude Faustus

the two of you clicked extremely well due to your similar demeanours — even more so than with his previous contracts as he wasn’t forced to put on any sort of act in order to please you as his master

it was one less thing to focus on whilst enacting all of the civility and violence that you required of him and that much he could appreciate

he takes great pleasure and pride in watching how you respond to the lesser mortals around you — always so infuriatingly calm and using perfect curated words to burn them

you’re sadistic and stoic and calm and cruel — the perfect person to be in control of a demon from hell

but you’re also infuriatingly observant and know exactly how to have him wrapped around your little finger

you know that he has a distinct fondness for you and sees you as a potential mate

he knows that you know this

you know that he knows

and yet he still falls for your tricks every time, always desperate to prove himself (driven by that damned instinct of his to show off to a mate)

he’ll leap at any given opportunity to prove himself to you: menial busy work, dispatching enemies, tending to your every whim

and he knows you get a kick out of seeing him being so willingly, over the top, subservient

and he hates it

no he doesn’t

but he goes along with it every time because no matter how much he despises feeling so vulnerable

no matter how much it makes his skin crawl when his mouth runs off with a compliment or confession before he can even think

no matter how weak you make him feel

it’s worth it to be able to see one of those rare smiles grace your features (though he’d never admit to being so sentimental)

Sebastian Michaelis

sebastian is incredibly blatant about his attachment and affection for you — openly and unabashedly flirting you through his actions and his words

it’s rare that you’ll give him anything more than an eye roll or a blank stare, but it’s those rare moments that he lives for

the times where you freeze and your eyes widen, calm and stoic demeanour shattering at your feet as you process a particularly lewd remark

the times where you’ll crack a small smile or laugh at something that he’d said

the times where you’d, without even looking at him, return his same energy and flirt back

calling him ‘darling’ and ‘handsome’ as you send him away

and laughing behind the rim of your cup when his spirits lift and his eyes light up

because for as much as he loves how calm and intimidatingly stoic you are, he gets a kick out of making that facade crack

of making you react and seeing your more playful side

even if it means putting his ego aside and making a fool of himself

even if he has to make himself submissive to you — more than his contract demands

like when you tricked him into calling himself your mate in front of company by playing into his ego — just barely managing to hold a straight face as he scrambled to correct himself

flustered for the first time in his long, long life

yes

sebastian was very fond of you indeed