#and I think I’d settle for love but like that would require someone to love me. lol

[tomatoluvr69]

useless complaint post literally you don’t have to bother reading this it will just help me to rant a bit

This is sooooo not a real issue I’m just in the throes of pmdd but like I have a bunch of semi-expected (but way earlier than I’d thought) unemployed time so I’m using its alignment with the warm weather to go backpacking/live out of my car in [nearby national park and national forests] but right now I feel zero enthusiasm and I really hope it’s not gonna suck bc my heart’s not in it…like if I’m kind of doing it out of obligation bc it’s unusual to have such an extended span of time off when you’re an adult, then am I going to have the drive to get thru the parts that suck, like the exhaustion of steep trail days, the days when it storms so hard you have zero dry gear, etc. but really the part that I’m the most trepidatious about is the loneliness. But it’s so weird bc I’m struggling socially here and I really think some extended alone time would help?? But it’s always hard and I don’t want to lololol. Honestly what would help this the most is to just wait until after my fucking period. But as it is right now I feel like I’m just going thru the motions. If I could fucking live in my house for the equivalent amount of time without my social life encroaching I absolutely would but I’m so burnt out from my close friends leaving and from my last dear relationship here being at times really tough (it’s one that feels like my well-being rides on it— when it’s good, I’m on top of the world, when it’s not I’m hurt and confused and crawling out of my own skin). I still have a community here but it feels like it’s my roommates’ world, and I’m a guest whose presence is like…anodyne at best? And I really think I’ve just latched onto the idea of my trip as a vague mental escape hatch and haven’t really grasped the idea of the fact that I’ll still be present in my ailing brain and treacherous body when I go on the trip— I’m not just taking a nap from my (admittedly spoiled little baby) problems. And when I did the same thing for 3 or 4 weeks last summer I was dropped off & picked up, which created a really nice incentive to stay on trail— to leave, I’d have had to somehow communicate & coordinate with the relatives who’d agreed on a set date to come pick me up, i.e. effectively trapping me in the woods so I’d stay when I got all grumpy or sad or began semi-hallucinating human voices or was ready to throw it all away to get my hands on a slice of pepperoni pizza and a big old kombucha lol.

Anyways this is such not a real problem but me ol’ paranoid ass is convinced a whole passel of my irls have this blog’s url so I can’t freely complain about what’s really bothering me, which is that I’m starting to see harbingers of the devastating dissolution of my closest relationship. Or, even worse, my relegation to a much more distant connection. And I’m trying desperately to convince myself I should stay in this fucking town, because I’m suuuuuuuuper prone to just fleeing when I start to feel [inaudible], which is a super unsustainable way to live my life and o know it’s not [city] I’m trying to flee but myself which scientists are telling me I can’t physically do…but is that the truth?? Or is the truth that I actually do need a clean break from [redacted]…or is that just a convenient lie I’m telling myself so I can flee again. Or is THAT a convenient lie I’m telling myself so that I can keep my head in the sand and keep [redacted]. It’s so cool how you can’t trust your own heart and mind and you might just suffer from uncertainty forever and you’ll die chasing happiness with the grass always greener but also like pmdd and I don’t really want to go on this trip but I think I must. I think…

#like. even this trip itself is evidence that my nature is just a fucking flee-er. #and I think I’d settle for love but like that would require someone to love me. lol #and I’ve got some semblance of it here but it’s not enough and it’s very fucking painful. like what happens if the strongest ties you may #ever render are just enough. bc you’re not enough. lol #also I think I have to leave when I said I’d leave bc my internal shameometer prevents me from telling my male roommate I’m staying #solely to use the toilet during um well you know. #and also the more I come to terms with the fact that I’m almost definitely autistic the more I really can see how much masking fucking #drains me. #and the friends who left were the ones around whom I didn’t really feel the need to mask. but these social things the past few weeks have #fucking walloped me and I’m just :-( ;-( :-( #oops did not mean to make him wink. #and it just feels like the rest of my life is going to be a cycle of masking for long enough that someone likes me. and then being #abandoned by them for romantic relationships or some geographical distance reason or like ummm fucking liability by lorde reasons #ugsjkskwnenwjsmz :-( :-/

[endless-ineffabilities]

sapphire-hearted (part three)

Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

After his proposal, the reader and Aemond have a heated confrontation in the gardens.

themes/warnings: jealous!possessive!Aemond (no surprise that I have to write this for every part of this story... I mean...), angst, language

part one - part two - masterlist

"Will you choose me?"

That managed to stop you in your tracks. Will you choose him? As if you had not chosen him over and over, at every turn, every proposal - only for him to choose to lie with another woman in the end.

And what is worse, he does not seem to find his actions wrong, only defending them. For the good of the realm, he says. 

But what if he is sincere about marrying you? Will it only be you, for all time, war be damned? Knowing Aemond, it will not be that simple. 

You feel caught in a snare, helpless, for but a second. Weighing your options in your mind. 

Yes. Perhaps. No. Fuck you, and your witch. 

Your mind finally settles, and you turn to face him, your face cold and unreadable. "That has to be the most selfish thing you have ever said to me."

Aemond appears stunned, unmoving, as he watches you stride towards him. 

“Selfish? My desire to be wed to you is a selfish thing?” he asks.

You approach him quickly, breathing heavy as words spill out of your mouth. “I know you, Aemond. Tell me this. Why do you wish to marry me now, after all this time? Why did you not do it fucking seven, eight moons ago? You only want this now because you know that I am serious about getting married to someone else. And what of the unspoken understanding between us that we could never do so because you are a Targaryen, oh great one, and I come from a lowly House of cattle-tending farmers?” You sound venomous, unrestrained, but you do not much care.

Aemond matches you in your ferocity, when he says, “Is that truly what you think? That I would marry you for some foolish reason? That I would do so on a whim? It is true that my family, the council, and perhaps the smallfolk will frown upon our union, but you know what?” He grips your elbow, and you can feel his ragged breathing fanning your face as he drags you closer. “I don’t care anymore. I have always wanted this, and I should get what I want. After everything I have done, all that I have sacrificed for this war, I deserve to marry for love.”

“No, you - ”

“Listen to me, my love,” he leans in, close enough to capture your lips in his if he wishes to. “I’d rather burn everything to the ground, rather than watch you wed another fucking man. I thought you were already well aware of this?” 

His lips brush against your ear, sending shivers down your spine, and he whispers, “Do not underestimate my love for you. You’re mine, do you hear? Perhaps you will try to be with someone else, with that Ramsay. But know that it will not end well for him.”

You understand that he is not speaking lightly. That he will make do on his threat if need be. Dangerous, intense, cunning. This was the Aemond you fell in love with, so why should you be taken aback  at his words? You crave all of this, all that he truly is.

But you had also thought that all of this, all of him, was only yours. 

“No,” you breathe.

“What?”

“My answer is no,” you repeat. “I cannot marry you. Not like this.”

“Because of him?” Aemond accuses. 

“Not exactly,” you meet his eye and find a storm of emotion resting there. “You know that I would marry you in a heartbeat.” You remember when he said the same, but it does not sit right with you that he could only have said that out of desperation. Just as he is asking for your hand now, in the heat of the moment. 

“Then we shall have it done. On the morrow, if that is what you wish, my love - ”

“But we cannot marry when I do not trust you. When I cannot be certain that you will not go scurrying back to bed with Alys each time you require her visions or her spells.”

Aemond implores, “But it should all end soon. The war… we shall be sure to prevail against our enemies. And then I will have no further use for her. We can have her banished or mutilated for all I care.” 

Typical of Aemond to be so thick-headed, and to stick to his ambition.  So will he lie with Alys a few more times, breaking your heart, after he has just professed to love and marry you? “I cannot have that.”

“Do you not understand - ”

“I understand perfectly,” you almost hiss at him in your exasperation. “If you wish to wed me, then you cannot have anyone else. By the gods, you should not even remotely desire to be with anyone else, for any reason. Whether it be for the fucking realm, I do not care.”

You pry yourself away from his hold, every step walking back from him giving you room to just breathe. “The very thought of you with her, the truth of it happening, sickens me to my core.” 

Laughing menacingly, you add, “Just as the thought of myself with Ramsay angers you so. Tell me, my love - what would you do if I were to ride him, as Alys does you?”

Aemond glares daggers at you, his jaw clenching so hard in his rage.

He seethes, “You would never get the chance. I will bury him long before then.”

“I’ve had enough of this,” you raise your hands in surrender. “I’ll be seeing you.”

“You do not get to simply leave - ” He starts to say, but he is interrupted by someone else rounding the corner.

“Brother,” Aegon greets, an ornate cup of wine held loosely in one hand. Several members of his Kingsguard shadow him, a few paces away.  “How come you get to escape our council meetings out here, whilst I waste away with those droll sycophants?”

“Aegon,” Aemond greets, his voice giving away irritation at his brother’s intrusion. “I had no standing affairs today, and I am occupied with something else.”

“Someone else, you mean to say,” Aegon raises his eyebrows at you suggestively. “Nice to see you again, my lady.”

“Your Grace,” you curtsy. “I shall take my leave, so that you might speak to Aemond in private.”

Aegon responds lightly. “Stay, if you please. I do have something to ask you as well. And what is with the ‘Your Grace’? It is just Aegon to you, as always.”

“Of course, Your G-” you catch yourself, smiling now. “I mean, Aegon.” Aemond’s siblings have been more than civil towards you, and if everything else were simpler, then you might even call them your friends. 

Now and then, Aegon would make a comment about your status in poor taste, though he means well. One of them being, “What a shame you cannot be made my good-sister through Aemond. The family would surely wed the pair of you, if only you had been a Lady Baratheon, or gods, even a Lannister, though I find the lot of them unbearable. What a shame.”

“So,” Aegon excitedly clasps his hands together, preparing to share some piece of news. “I’ll be holding a small gathering on the morrow. A supper of sorts. Only a few chosen people. Our inner circle, which includes you, my lady.” He wags his finger at you, playfully.

“A feast? Won’t it be improper, Aegon?” Aemond asks, with a tired sigh, already used to his brother’s proclivities. 

“Not a feast, dear brother. A small, subdued supper.” Aegon looks to you for support, and you shrug in agreement. He takes a step closer, whispering to you in secret, “It is a feast, actually.” You have to bite back a laugh at his absurdity. It’s somewhat hard to believe that Aegon is the face of the Greens - their cause, their reason to wage this brutal war. Was he not just a young boy who did not choose any of this? A neglected son who was forced to abandon his dream of escape? A crown of thorns thrust upon him in spite of his resistance?

“Aegon - ” Aemonds warns, wary of his brother’s proximity to you. What in the seven hells could he be saying?

“Aemond,” Aegon sings in response, unfazed. “I’ve said my piece. My lady, I shall have my guards escort you when it’s time.” 

“Alright,” you say, aware of Aemond’s watchful stare on you. In a split decision, or mayhaps a calculated move, you find yourself requesting, “do you mind terribly if I take Lord Ramsay Beesbury as my companion?”

“Oh, him?” Aegon looks to his brother, weighing his reaction, and immediately growing amused at the fury that he sees. “Well, you may take whomever you please, my lady.”

“She may not,” Aemond quickly counters. 

Aegon merely grins, “It’s my party, brother.”

“I don’t fucking care.”

“I am your King,” Aegon states. “My word is final.”

"You could be the Smith himself, and I still would not care. She will not be taking him." Aemond says firmly. Only he can talk back to Aegon in such a way, and he surely takes advantage of this when he can.

They lock eyes, until Aegon bursts in a fit of unbridled laughter, his wine sloshing out of his cup.

"Gods be fucking good," Aegon wheezes. "You can hardly control yourself, dear brother." Winking at you, he says, "I suppose there is a damn good reason why they call us Greens. Aemond here is practically greener than Vhagar's slimy old scales with envy."

"Seven hells." Aemond curses in exasperation. Still, after all that, he throws you a look of warning.

You only smile sweetly in return, your mind already made up.

Satisfied with the outcome of this exchange, you nod to both of them, "I shall take my leave, Aegon. Aemond. But we shall see you on the morrow. Thank you for the invitation."

Aemond bristles at your emphasis on we.

Yet he cannot help but watch in adoration as you walk away, your skirts billowing lightly in the wind. His woman.

That Ramsay will not be able to anticipate what's coming for him.

I thoroughly enjoyed reading all of your comments from the previous parts!! Glad we are all on the same page - Aemond should suffer 🤷🏻‍♀️ (or at least, grovel and prove himself, for the next few chapters.)

taglist: @immyowndefender @bellameshipper @aemondswifeisme @bash1018 @fuck-the-reaper @shessthunderstoms @aemondsbabygirl @melsunshine @youtoldalie @snh96 @noxytopy @ellooo0ooo @brianochka @not-a-glad-gladiator @mac95650 @whitejuliana1204 @midnightmystic @saminalloxo @oh-no-tia @magnificentsapphiresoul @clara-geekhime @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @ananas26t @iloveallmyboys @carriellie @summerposie @verycollectivecreator @toodlesxcuddles @brie-annwyl @dc-marvel-girl96 @bellstwd @bibli0thecary @happinessinthebeing @magnificentsapphiresoul

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen fanfiction #house of the dragon #asoiaf

[manias-wordcount]

Hi!

I'd like to request something with Mori Ougai (bsd) being head over heals for someone in the port mafia (who has the same status as Chuuya, but I can't remember what it's called, sorry...). Preferably ending with smut.

I couldn't find of you were open for requests or not, so sorry if this comes at the wrong time, and also okey if you decide to not Wright this, thank you either way

Doctor Knows Best (Mori Ougai x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝘂𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝗮 𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗹𝘆 𝗵𝗶𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝘁 𝗶𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝗹𝗺𝗮𝗼. 𝘀𝗼𝗿𝗿𝘆, 𝗶 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗽 𝗺𝘆𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳- 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝘂𝗶𝗹𝘁-𝘂𝗽 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝗺𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝗳𝘂𝗻. 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝗶 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗶𝗿𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶��𝗻 𝗶 𝘄𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁! 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆 :)

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

If you’re being honest, you’re more surprised that he hasn’t pulled you from your position yet. 

  It’s been a while since you’ve had a real command from him. One that really required your status as an executive of the Port Mafia, anyway. If it wasn’t dealing with paperwork or handling intelligence or giving orders from the safety of a nice cushy, building, it was just simply lying around. Waiting for something to do. Waiting for a reason to be here. Of course, you know you still have use here. Your status as a senior member and your special ability is what got you to rise in the ranks so quickly when you were much younger. But you’re not getting any younger like this. You’re not being very helpful like this. As helpful as you know you could be, at least. However…

  “Breathe in for me, my lovely.”

  You’re positive Mori is too into the idea of you being helpful right now. At least, not after the incident.

  That’s really the only plausible explanation for your situation right now. That’s the only way you can explain how you ended up in his old doctor’s office in the Port Mafia’s base in just a nightgown after he heard you coughing over breakfast in your room. He even made sure to give you a personal escort and everything. That is to say, he took you by the hand and fussed over you every second of the way - even in front of your subordinates.

  Now, if it were up to you, you would have chosen to be anywhere beside his examination table with all the top bottoms of your dress undone and the fabric settling dangerously around your shoulders as he goes through his usual routine of diagnostics. You would have chosen to be absolutely anywhere- except this close to him. And at the moment? You’re more than exasperated enough to make it known to him.

  “Mori, I’m fine!” You insist with a frustrated huff. However, you do end up giving in very quickly and giving him a deep breath in and out as he presses the cool metal of the stethoscope against your skin. You keep your eyes adverted, not at all willing to give into his overly concerned self. But your compliance ends up putting a small smile on his face that you’re able to spot just out of the corner of your eye- something that warms your cheeks and flusters you greatly. Still, you’re not willing to go down without a fight. Even if the man you’re duking it out against just so happens to be your very, very smug boss. “The other doctor said I’d be good to get back in the field three weeks ago! You can’t keep doing this.”

  At your protest, Mori just lets out an absent hum. Almost as if he doesn’t have a care in the world as to what you have to say or think or do. But you know deep down inside that’s a line. After all, he wouldn’t be showing this much concern over your health after the explosion you were in a couple months ago if he didn’t care about you. He wouldn’t be ditching the fancy black suit in favor of a measly little doctor’s coat and old purple button-up if you were someone else. Because you know he hasn’t done it to anyone- not even the other executives.

  And that’s what makes you so upset. That’s what makes you so frustrated. That’s what makes things so unfair.

  “A second opinion is common practice in the medical field, my dear.” He responds to you easily as a look of concentration passes over his face while he takes your readings. And it just makes you want to scream with just how quickly he’s able to brush you off. Though it looks like the anger had crept onto your face a little more than you were anticipating. Because all too soon, he’s taking the hand he put on your shoulder to keep you still and cupping at your chin to turn your head to meet his red eyes directly, a tight smile on his face. “And it’s Dr. Ougai, sweetheart. Remember who you’re talking to.”

  You swallow a little nervously at his gaze, but in reality, you know you have nothing to fear. He’s been tough on you before. He’s been tough on you and your fellow executives plenty of times before. Yet one measly explosion and a moderate concussion later, you’re just now allowed to have unsupervised time in front of a computer. And that thought now only serves to annoy you further. Way, way, way further.

  “I know exactly who I’m talking to.” You bite out, half a snarl curling at your lips. Mori only raises an eyebrow at you- expression amused and a little too playful for your liking. But you don’t give him the time of day to suck the joy out of your rebellion. You’ve just about had it with his coddling. You’ve just about had it with his constant nagging and the way he looks at you. Like you need to be protected. Like walking out of that explosion wasn’t a possibility that came with your job. Like you couldn’t handle the lifestyle you’ve signed up for yourself. You’ve just about had it. “I’m talking to my boss. The one who refuses to give me orders and let me do my job. The one who keeps calling me weak by never telling me what to-”

  And unfortunately right now…

  “You want orders?”

  …he’s listening loud and clear.

  For the first time in a while, Mori addresses you with a sharp tone. One that reminds you of what it means to be in the Mafia. To be skating on thin ice. But it’s what you wanted. That’s what you asked for. So that’s what you get. You made your bed. It’s only right that you’d sleep in it too.

  “Yes.” You answer quietly, keeping your voice nice and even to avoid showing any emotion.

  “Yes, what?” He shoots back almost immediately. The amused expression that was once on his face is gone- replaced by lips set in a straight line and half-lidded eyes that present all the seriousness that you would expect from a mafioso. And maybe it’s because you’ve been out of the game for a while than you’d like to be. Maybe it’s because of all this coddling and hand-holding that he’s been doing with you. Maybe it’s all that and a combination of more that made you feel so soft. So weak. Whatever it is, you have no doubt that it’s the very thing that caused you to let out another nervous swallow despite your best efforts to hide it. One that he notices easily. One that he addresses just as easily too. “Say it.”

  “Yessir.” You tell him, nearly slurring over your words in order to get them out in time. Back straight and tall. Eyes forward. Body stiff. Like a good soldier should. Like a good soldier should. But that’s the thing. That’s the thing about him that you didn’t get. It’s the fact that he didn’t want a soldier.

  “Good girl.”

  He just wanted you.

  You were slow to understand that until the final second. But the second you heard the purr of his compliment, you can’t help but feel it. You couldn’t help but feel like you had melted. Softened up a little bit. In a way that you’d like. In a way that Mori appreciated.

  And of course, as seconds passed by, things became more and more clear to you. After all, you think there’s very little that needs to be explained when your doctor and your boss all but tear the stethoscope from his ears and toss it elsewhere in favor of surging forward and wrapping his arms around you. And you know there’s even less to be explained when those warning arms start creeping up the back of your nightgown and settling a little dangerously on your hip. And even less than that his deep, velvety voice is no longer spouting compliments. Instead- they’re pressing themselves against your neck and your collarbone and your shoulders and the valley between your breasts as he makes quick work of tugging down your already scandalously low-hanging dress even lower. In between the kisses he presses to your lips, of course. 

  And by the time your mind catches up with your body, you swear everything about you is overheating. The mere sensation of rough fingertips brushing over your bare skin- taking extra care to trace your new scars and your faded wounds- it’s enough to send you whining. And the mere sensation of his lips against your body- the little nibbles and the softness of his lips spreading here and there- it’s enough to send you squirming. Breaking you down and building you back into his image. Almost as if every time insisted you see a doctor or you take a break or you hold off going back to work was all in preparation for this one moment.

  “You want orders, princess?” He asks you finally, and you are not sure you have enough fire in your belly left to answer like the mafioso you’re supposed to be. Not that he cares. Not that he wanted that anyway. Because he wouldn’t have gone through all the trouble of making you soft and pliable and desperate for his approval and his commands if that’s what he wanted for you, now would he. “You want to be my good girl?”

  As if that switch that was flipped on inside of you is now up and at full force, you start nodding your head like a mad woman. Like this was what you made for me. For following his orders. For following his lead. Whether it’s killing in his name. Whether it’s moaning his name. As long as he tells you to do it. As long as he commands you to do it. Then’s enough for you. In fact, it’s more than enough for you. 

  “Then lay back and open your legs for me, darling.”

  After all…

   “You can do that for your Doctor, right sweetheart?”

  …Dr. Ougai knows best.

#mori ougai x reader #mori ougai #mori ogai #mori ogai x reader #bungou stray dogs fanfiction #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs fanfic #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs fanfic #bungo stray dogs fanfiction #bsd #bsd x reader #bsd fanfic #bsd fanfiction #x reader #xreader #fanfic #fanfiction

[midnightsun-if]

Which RO's would actively pursue the MC vs which ones require being pursued?

Hmm… I think I’ll base this off of the actual routes (which might have been what you’re doing for… don’t know).

Koda: He tends to be the pursuer, but not necessarily realizing that he’s doing so… You know? He’s the epitome of the dude that flirts without realizing, makes innuendos without knowing, and says bro as a love language.

Scarlett: Both. At first, Scarlett will be pursued, because there’s no way anything would progress otherwise, but after she realizes the depth of her feelings? Knows that this isn’t some game? She definitely becomes the “hunter” that vampires are so famous of being. Nothing would stand in her way.

Cyrus/Cyra: They’re in a bit of a precarious position because of Ash. So, they’d technically be the pursued, but they wouldn’t wish to put that onto the MC because of the whole “home wrecker” schtick that may occur… A mix of both, I’d say.

Quinn: They’re definitely the pursuer once mutual interest and attract has been settled. Once they get an all clear? It’s open season.

Caden: The pursued… Caden doesn’t even realize anything is happening until their neck deep in it (and then they have time to panic about not realizing it). But, by then, after all the give and take, they’re too far gone to want to stop.

Sloane: A mixture? Sloane is definitely someone, like Scarlett, that needs to be pursued or nothing at all will happen (they’ll just go off in their corner). But once barriers have been dropped, and some things have been revealed, you’ll start to notice them appear more and more… Completely due to coincidences, of course.

Blake: Once feelings actually get involved? Blake will definitely be the one getting pursued… It’s so far out of their wheelhouse that they don’t even know how to proceed or how to react, if I’m being honest. Not to quote Aladdin, but it’d be a whole new world.

Reginald/Regina: They typically are the pursuer, but in the most obvious obvious fashion… Unlike Koda, who’s just being Koda, R typically tries to be flirtatious and fails and then is completely suave when there’s no effort involved/the situation is completely random. They’re a bit in the middle, but a lot more towards the pursuer side.

#midnight sun #asks #ro: blake herrera #ro: r presley #ro: c aurelia #ro: sloane addams #ro: quinn grant #ro: koda kingston #ro: caden randall #ro: scarlett voltaire #scenario asks

[obsolescent]

THE WAY I AGREE W YOU !!! also i think you previously mentioned something about leon desiring a softer, thicker partner and !!! imagining leon seeing a woman (bc im a woman and self indulgent) and seeing her hips and thinking about how she has child-bearing hips and he’s soooo down bad. especially older! leon !! bc at that point in his life he’s ready to settle down with someone.

also also also i was gonna say that he like clvlv requires a family too but then i got scared bc of conflicting opinions but im so glad that you feel that way too. i imagine that since leon lost his parents and has lost so so much in his life, he wants to give the world to his kids. he’d be such a good dad. girl dad leon brainrot rnnnnnn

and also !! vkvkv i love your take on leon sooooo much.

YEAH YEAH I think he would just…him loving physical touch and he would just see the indentation of his fingers/his hold on his partner and just. Yeah.

18+ due to discussions of sexual activities!

Me being a they/them with child bearing hips !,?,!/(/$.? Like hiiii Leon (I know he’s got a breeding kink like I just KNOW it)

He wouldn’t be able to even stop those thoughts either, he’d see someone he finds attractive and the thought would just be like oh. Fuck. !,?!/(/$/(!.$:) the thoughts would definitely ramp up as he got older as his need for a family grew!

I know many would say he wouldn’t want to bring a kid into the world knowing what he knows, but he also knows he would protect his family with every fiber of his being and he knows he could do if after all he’s been through, all he’s survived.

He would be a terrific parent and I can see him like. Teaching his daughter how to protect herself when he isn’t around, teaching her fighting techniques and probably even getting her a gun for her 18th birthday or something 😭 once again he knows how fucked up the world is and he won’t always be around, but he also knows that her being a woman also puts her in danger and he’ll be damned if anyone crosses his child!!!

Anyways. Yep. So much brainrot like, I gotta write a story out about him settling down and raising a family and and. &:(,!.(/)/)!:

But okay I love your takes too!!! Like we’re definitely on the same wavelength 😌🤝😌 fjgsjssfshsg I’ve loved your asks and discussing this with you :) if you ever wanna DM just send a message!! Or honestly if you got any requests for any stories I’d love to hear them too!!

#o asks #o talking #o text #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader

[manjiroscum]

BEYOND THE COSMOS

Character/s: alien!Kakucho

Warnings: f!reader, mature language, explicit sexual themes, reader is a tease, monsterfucking, unprotected sex, breeding kink, kakucho has 2 big 🍆 + a long tongue, doggy, couch sex, dirty talking, cum eating, blowjob/throat fucking, implied marathon sex, and use of pet names. Minors do not interact.

Note: here is the first entry for kinktober, sorry it’s late... this is dedicated to my sweet bby dawn @lalunanymph 💖

❖ kinktober ‘22 masterlist | ENTRY #1

Summary: Your new neighbor’s dick(s) is out of this world.

WC: 2.8K

Kakucho loves the earth more than most homo sapiens ever could. Compared to the dreary and almost desolate planet he hailed from, the earth was far more interesting and had unique customs that varied wherever he could travel to. Eventually, he was tasked to settle down. And he did, in a quaint house that was minutes away from the park where he normally would jog in the early morning because he learned from an earthling that it is beneficial to their body. Yet, despite acquiring such knowledge, Kakucho could never be a human being nor possess a body that functions the way it would. And this extends to his reproductive parts.

He was never required to have a human mate. No, the only directives he was given upon embarking on this journey were the following: live on earth, explore, study about the species that live on the planet, do not get caught, and go back home if he had gathered enough knowledge. This was his third year on the rocky, terrestrial plant. He may enjoy trying all the food it has to offer, learning the countless languages its habitants speak, and making ‘friends’, but it has been quite a lonely experience for the extraterrestrial. Contrary to the way his human friends think of his kind, or what they like to endearingly call ‘aliens’, Kakucho was not heartless, unemotional nor thought of himself as superior. But due to this stereotype, he found it hard to form long-lasting relationships. He was quite sure he'd stay naive about the way earth dwellers courted one another and how they reproduce… until a certain someone moved into the one-story house next to his.

“Hello! Thought I’d drop by to greet my neighbor,” you cheerily spoke, eyes sparkling under the sunlight that somehow seemed to shine down on your beautiful face. Kakucho was not a stranger to the feeling of love or lust, yet he couldn’t help but curse in his mother tongue under his breath. You were absolutely brimming with life—or charming, as Izana, one of his human friends would simply put it. Raising a brow at the odd language he uttered, you slightly backed up. With a sheepish glance at the attractive man, you weakly laughed. “I-is it a bad time? Do you understand what I just said?”

Kakucho wished he didn’t panic. Clearing his throat, he nodded a bit too vigorously then returned the warm smile you shot him before he felt his own nerves get the best of him. “Y-yeah, of course, I understood. Sorry about that, I was just taken aback. I thought you were here for a different reason—ah, welcome to the neighborhood!” He was sure he sounded lame. According to Izana, humans who were considered lame could never be invited to any special gatherings. He can’t have that, especially when his new neighbor was so pretty that if you ended up hating him, Kakucho doesn’t know how he’ll recover from that.

He might have to move away to get rid of his embarrassment. Or worse, go back to his home planet.

“Ah, it’s alright. And thank you!” The smile on your face returned, which caused relief to sweep over Kakucho. As you introduced yourself and asked for his name, unbeknownst to you, Kakucho was too focused on your lips the entire time. This is good. If he can get you to keep smiling, then maybe he has a chance at—wait a minute, a chance at what exactly? This can’t be what Izana has been laughing at whenever the topic is on the table, right? About love at first sight… Just as Kakucho was formulating his thoughts together and figuring out why he was acting this way, you bid him farewell. Again, he couldn’t help but curse and yet, thank the cosmos for sending such an exquisite human his way after years of merely dipping his toes in the water out of fear of being discovered.

Shit, does he like you?

Most earth dwellers may have a fascination for aliens such as him, however, Kakucho knew better than to outright reveal himself. He has seen those alien movies and he wasn’t impressed. But fuck, how difficult it is to keep pretending that the cat that occasionally visits your house is afraid of him or that the television isn’t working because of the faulty satellite dish and not because of his nature. He can’t also explain why he is so great at crane games just because he could see through the machine’s rigged system. There came a time Kakucho knew you were so close to finding out he was lying about knowing why you were feeling hot and bothered by the confused expression you wore. Perhaps you catching a cold wasn’t the right answer.

“Don’t ‘ya feel hot and bothered whenever you see me, Kakucho?”

Kakucho tries to avoid the chances of you interrogating him. Not that he had any qualms answering questions which he already had a planned response to—like how he got his scar, where he lived, and why he decided to run a small business. Those replies were already given to him by his superiors. An identity he had to embody. He just wished his boss had also prepared responses to whatever inquiries you may throw and ones that seem believable. Kakucho can’t outright say his favorite species was another alien race in the galaxy or that his favorite food to eat was something out of this world.

There were even times he feared his cover would get blown at any day you invite him to your home. He didn’t know what to say when you questioned him if you can walk around naked in your own house. He supposed it was fine. The videos he often sees Izana watching in secret were humans with no clothing on. The giggle you made sent shivers down his spine in fright, scared he answered wrongly, swaying your hips as you walked towards him.

“Kaku, are you sure you want to see me with no clothes on?”

You really got him on edge every time he came over. Despite this, Kakucho didn’t have the heart to get angry or refuse you. He may be breaking the one directive of not getting caught by just spending time with you whenever he can yet he can’t stop.

Fuck, he can’t stop seeing you and basically dancing to your every whim. Kakucho was like a moth attracted to a dangerous blaze. This was bad and he was down horrendously for you. The only thing that was stopping him from confessing that you awakened his primal need to have a mate was his true form. You might run off in terror and that alone will kill him inside. Such uneasiness was raised to uncountable numbers on one fine evening when you pushed him down on the couch, a killer smirk on your lips. The speechless extraterrestrial nearly passed out at the sight of you sitting on his lap and leaning down to kiss his cheek.

Holy shit.

“Kaku, tell me honestly…” you whispered against his cold ear, sensually running your free hand up his cool chiseled chest that the polo shirt couldn’t hide. Kakucho was on high alert, unable to relax his nerves that were all over the place. And yet, he was also hypnotized by the sound of your voice right next to his ear and the warmth of your body. Simply put, he was in a compromising situation. “I know you’re keeping something from me. Not only are you strange, but your body temperature isn’t common—it’s like I’m friends with a dead guy, ‘ya know?” Failing to answer, Kakucho remained silent which prompted you to continue. “Kaku, you and I had our fun times… You can tell me anything. Other than being my neighbor, I’ve considered you as a friend—maybe even more.” At that fact, Kakucho’s mood suddenly picked up. He then stared at you, those mismatched irises you’ve come to love filled with surprise. Kakucho was about to say something along the lines that yes, to some degree he felt the same, when you cut him off with a kiss, one that was brimming with longing. Tongues danced to the tune of ecstasy that Kakucho could feel his dicks twitch and turn hard. His nostrils are able to smell your arousal.

You almost screamed out of pure joy. For months, your mind has been at its wit’s end trying to figure out if Kakucho likes you or if he was just leading you on. Despite his strange actions, you greatly fell for the man and wished he would pay attention to you. It wasn't every day you get to have a hot neighbor and one so cute, too. All your worries left the building the second he was kissing you back, tossing his inhibitions and you did the same. The tension along with the pent-up lust released and found solace with every touch and kiss. Yet, Kakucho had to know. He had to ask you if you were okay with this—loving an alien who had been lying about his existence the whole time… He wished you wouldn't freak out or run. Or perhaps, both.

How will he tell you the truth without doing that?

“Kaku, what's wrong?” you questioned as he pulled away, brows furrowed in deep thought that it scared you. Maybe you were just assuming the whole time and were disgusted by you. Eyes turning glassy, you stayed silent as you waited for any rejection or command to get away from him. What happened was the total opposite of what you imagined. Instead of any form of harsh treatment, Kakucho got up from the couch and started to undress. The heat from in between your thighs traveled up to your face at the mere action. Glorious it was to see his chest and the muscles there flexing as he got rid of his shirt, glistening slightly with sweat. His scent made your knees weak. You were so mesmerized by the little 'show' that you didn't pay any attention to him removing his pants along with his boxers to reveal not just one oddly shaped hard cock that slapped against his toned stomach—there were two.

T-two?

“Sorry, I… wasn't sure how I was gonna tell you this. That I’m… not actually human.” Kakucho swore you froze up for a moment at the confession. He supposed it was a very valid and much-anticipated reaction. Anyone would be too stunned to speak, especially since aliens were ‘nonexistent’ to any realists. Hands gripping his polo, Kakucho waited for your comment, violent reactions—anything that will indicate you finally took in the reality in front of you.

If things do go south real fast, then he will have no choice but to…

“Is… Are these real?” you whispered, catching his attention immediately. His eyes went wide upon seeing you reach out to touch his stiff cocks that were oozing with what seemed to be precum. Kakucho let out a hiss once you wrapped your hand around one, thumb rubbing the tip teasingly. His unattended cock bobbed as the other started leaking more precum once your tongue made contact with the leaky tip. What a vulgar sight it is. Back on Kakucho’s planet, no one would dare to lick or touch it. “Huh, they’re very… sensitive. It makes total sense now. The cold temperature of your body, your lack of knowledge on certain things… But it’s alright. You’re still such a cutie and I like you.”

To see you down on your knees, sucking on what you can, it was no wonder Kakucho wanted to cum right there and then. His breaths were shaky, hands coming down to fist your hair. You couldn’t help but smirk proudly at the feat you just earned. It is already a big deal to suck and have sex with an alien—a handsome one who has two big dicks—yet to have him moan like a virgin was something else.

What a reward this is.

“Lemme—shit, can I take the lead?” Your foreign lover questioned softly, his hand tucking back the stray hairs that hid your face from him. “Don’t want you to—ah, fuck… Don’t wanna tire you.” Of course, how could you say no to his offer? Your addled mind was consumed by lust as your eyes rolled back once the tip hit the back of your throat. Kakucho tested the waters first, slowly thrusting his hips until he settled on a brutal pace that should have bruised your pharynx. Your muffled moans and whines filled the living room along with his ragged breaths. It wasn’t soon before he was spilling his thick globs of semen straight down your esophagus. His loud groan was almost deafening. His other cock came untouched, spurting all over your fucked out expression as you gagged around him. The milky substance ran down your lashes and chin. What set his mind on fire was the possibility of you taking his two dicks successfully in your mouth, but that can wait. You can wait.

Kakucho was bewitched by the sensation and your obscene state. Jaw unhinged and cheeks warm, you slowly swallowed the remaining cum in your mouth then presented your now empty mouth. Flesh ignited by it, Kakucho pulled you up to kiss you squarely on the lips, tasting you and himself. Moaning into the kiss, you maneuvered him around and pushed him once again onto the couch. You wasted no time straddling him, grinding your clothed pussy on his erect cocks, desperate for friction down there. After a couple of kisses and his hands tearing your clothes apart to caress more of your burning flesh, you were now in the nude and pressing his face into your breasts.

“Suck on my tits, please,” you whined. Kakucho instantly agreed and wrapped his mouth around one of your nipples. He supposed it was no use hiding his other ‘otherworldly’ features from you, letting the true length of his tongue slip out and lick around your tit. Your eyes went wide and suddenly chuckled, fingers weaving through his midnight-blue hair. “Fuck, wanna have that tongue down my throat—mhm…” Your mouth felt full, the muscle leaving no place untouched. Every nook and cranny. Drenched with your juices, you parted your wet folds for his eager eyes to behold. “Fuck me, Kaku. Wanna feel that cock of yours inside. Pump me full of your cum, please. Pump me so full like a slut—your slut.”

Whether he had hesitations or not, your alien lover was quick to nod his head and got up. You bent over the couch, hissing as Kakucho slid his long and girthy cock that easily parted your damp cunt. “R-rub my clit, love. Ah…” Your jaw fell slack at the feeling of his fingers drawing circles on your clit as his cock entered, close to losing the strength of your legs. He grunted at how tight and warm you were inside. He could stay inside of you forever and just keep pumping you with his seed. Maybe getting you swollen with his children will be a breakthrough for his expedition and be beneficial to his superiors. Those ideas of his soon faded away into the back of his mind as his hips went with a rapid pace. Your cries for more and for him to fuck you and talk dirty echoed around the house. The salacious noises of skin against skin and his other cock slapping on your ass was a far better visual and auditory experience than those lifeless videos Izana watched. So much better.

“T-tell me, Kaku—ah, ah—do you like my pussy? S-say you do!”

Kakucho groaned.

“P-please, tell me!”

“Yeah—fucking hell, I love it.”

“Good, good… Ah, tell me, do you wanna cum inside me? Gonna knock me up?” Endless curses then poured from your tongue at the image. “Gonna give me children? Gonna make me look pregnant as you fill me up?”

Kakucho echoed your words as best as he can. His left hand cupped one of your tits while the other continued to rub your clit. Your nails dug into the couch’s headrest at the delicious and mind-blowing fuck of your life. Head bobbing and tits bouncing with every hard smack of his hips, you unknowingly came and whined helplessly. Kakucho then followed with a grunt, pumping your cunt with hot strings of cum. If he weren’t holding you, your face would have met the couch. Out of breath, you waited for your spasming to calm down. Kakucho’s mind was in a slight daze. And yet, his other cock was still painfully hard and just waiting to shoot out semen. Before you could even gather your thoughts and ask for him to fuck you again, he was quick to slip his other cock into your abused pussy again. This was going to be a long night, but you didn’t care at all, stupidly smiling as Kakucho began to speed up again, eager to make your wishes come true.

🎐taglist: @cryptred @wakaslut @festive @marism @wakasa-wifey @zuuki @stffychn @keijisprettygirl @bunnyjiros @tobidabio @leavemealonebutinpink @kamisoria @httphaitani @chloee0x0 @sanzucide @tokyometronetwork @riszu

#pat.✍️fics #🎃kinktober2022 #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x reader smut #tokyo revengers x you smut #kakucho x you #kakucho x reader #kakucho x y/n #kakucho smut #tw.monsterfucking #tw.breeding kink #tw.unprotected sex

[fullybooked]

A Promise

Title: A Promise Pairing: Diluc Rangvindir x Reader Word Count: 3.4k Warnings: injury, blood mention, brief fighting scene Summary: "Who did this to you?" trope

You were not, by any standards, defenseless. Quite the opposite, actually, and all of Mondstadt knew it. You hadn’t climbed the ranks of the guild so easily for no reason. Your skills with your (weapon of choice) were to be feared, not admired. 

And yet here was Diluc, watching you from across the room as you read a book peacefully while twisting your dagger in your palm, wondering if his line of work would ever come to haunt him. A morbid thought that he always tried to avoid. He was careful in the night, making sure he was never followed home for fear of an enemy spotting you through the windows. His one weakness.

“You’re staring,” you say in a sing-song voice, looking up from the book you were invested in. You close it in your lap, “you only stare when something is bothering you.”

Diluc snaps out of his nerve-wracking trance, “maybe I’m just admiring.”

The mindless flirt made you smirk, “you can admire up close, then.”

You push yourself up from the chair and take the few long strides required to get yourself in front of him. His eyes follow the entire time, a hand outstretching when he notices your path, welcoming you against his warm chest with a palm on your lower back. 

His red eyes. The way they stared at you, looked at you so softly. He seemed to always think you were delicate like a dandelion, waiting to break apart at a harsh wind. And no matter how many times you proved it wasn’t true, he still continued to look at you so softly. If anyone else looked at you like that, you’d threaten to make them into a skewer.

“What’s on your mind?” You ask, hands placed on his chest. He was always so unnaturally warm with his vision. But on cold mornings, like this one, you appreciated it. You tucked your fingers under the opening of his jacket.

Diluc sighs, defeated and admitting to you exactly what he was talking about, “be careful when you travel alone.”

The topic came up at least a million times in the span of a week, “this again? You know I’m careful.”

“Yes, but it puts me at ease to hear you say it.”

“Every day?”

“Twice if I could speak to you alone that often. I’d honestly prefer if you didn’t leave alone at all.” His usual argument fell on deaf ears and he knew it.

He’d been tryin to talk you into at least letting someone go with you on your commissions. Preferably someone he knew and trusted with your safety, but he would settle for anyone just to watch your back whe he couldn’t. He’d even entertained the idea of going with you himself but his hectic schedule never allowed it. 

You raise an eyebrow, “and would you consider letting someone go with you on your night patrols?”

The smirk that graced his features was answer enough for both of you. Both of you had no problem working alone, preferred it even, unless it was working with each other. Maybe that’s what made you so perfect for one another; being alone together was sometimes the best way to spend days off. 

“Point taken,” he sighs, his other hand sliding onto your waist so he could hold you asclose as he could, “be careful, that’s all I can ask.”

Your smile is he reason he fell in love with you in the first place, the one you given him right now, “you worry to much. Besides, I’m around the city all day today, easy stuff.”

You lean up on your toes, he was always just the slightest bit taller than you with his shoes on, and place your lips gently his. A kiss that was a promise to each other without saying it out loud for others to hear; come back to each other, at all costs. And even when he deepened it, begging you silentnly to keep that promise even closer than usual, you couldn’t stop yourself from bringing your hands up to sneak them around his shoulders.

You could’ve kissed him forever, archons knew you wanted to. And the way he ignored he sun peaking through the windows, his alarm to get started with his day, he didn’t want to be the one to pull away.

“You’re going to be late,” you inform him, barley parting your lips to get the words out, “Adeline is going to get up her any second to get you.”

The footsteps heard beyond the door, the squeak steps the maids couldn’t seem to fix, is exactly who you said it would be. With anther chaste kiss from him, ther’s a knock on the door.

“Master Diluc, are you awake?” Adeline asks from the other side of the door. You chuckle, yet another thing you were right about. But your boyfriend groans and finally does the honor of pulling away from you.

★★★★★★★★

You hadn’t bee lying when you’d told Diluc that it would be “easy stuff.” It was supposed to be, even Cyrus had said it was going to be an unusually light week. With that traveler going around and clearing up all of the bigger messes, it was going to be a while before anyone got anything too complicated anymore.

So why was this Abyss Made standing in the center of the hilichurl camp?

You stood a safe distance away, eyeing the small area in confusion and out of their sight. It was hopping around he fire in the center of camp, speaking in a language that nobody alive could understand. It looked right at home, like it belonged there. But it didn’t.

The Abyss didn’t work with hilichurls, or they didn’t normally. But the hilichurls walked around it like it was a guest.

You’d dealt with the mages before, usually with Diluc when they krept too close to the city during the day. But even as a team they were a more dangerous enemy than you were used to. And your Anemo vision wasn’t the best option for going agains a Pyro mage.

For just a second, you feel yourself hesitate on this commission. Maybe you were better off giving this to someone more capable? Someone with a hydro vision, probably. Or there was always the option to ask Diluc for an assist… What were you thinking?! You were Y/N! You didn’t need help! And Diluc would drop everything to come and help you, even the more important things. So what if this was a difficult fight, it would just make you stronger in the end when you got it over with.

“I’ve got this,” you whisper to yourself as an assurance, despite the bubble of doubt in the back of your mind, “last commission, then I can go home.”

You gripped your (Weaponn) tightly, reminding yourself to grip it properly before a difficult battle, and you trudgd towards the camp and towards the mage.

“Hey Fuzzball!” You shout, getting the attention of every hilichurl in the camp ahead of you. Even the mage, who looked away from the fire and towards you with empty eyes and a sickening laugh.

The hilichurls yelped, lifting ther weapons and running with no sense in their heads. They would be easy to take out, and you were right, but the mage was around. If lifted itself off the ground, a fire bubble forming around it as a shield.

“I forgot about that trick,” you mutter and start in a run towards the small group of hilichurls you would deal with first. 

You raised your weapon, ready to hack down th first wooden club that tried to hit you. The hilichurl was a foot away, perfect striking distance. The mage was still hanging to the back, and you wonder if maybe this would be easier han you had thought.

Something appears between you an the hilichurl, cutting off your path and catching you off guard. It was a…fireball?! 

Coming too fast for you to dodge it immediately. By the time you can register what it is, and that you need to get out of its way, your arm is already burning every nerve ending it has. You dive to the side, hoping that only your arm would be what’s hit.

And there you sit, on the grass, weapon clutched in an injured hand. This was definitely going to be a fight you would be lucky to get out of.

★★★★★★★★

Diluc walked into the winery, pulling his gloves off as soon as he shut the door behind him. A sigh left his lips, exhausted from the endless meetings and contract drawings that he had been attending. Merchants were slippery people, always trying to give him the short end of the deal.

“Master Diluc!” It’s Adeline, standing in the middle of the hall as proper as she had always been, “I’m happy to see you’ve arrived in one piece. I’m afraid I don’t have any good news to give you.”

He lifted his eyes, brow furrowed. Adeline never had news in general to give him when he arrived home. Maybe a question about his dinner preferences, to which he always said to ask you instead, but never good or bad news. 

“News?” He asks, arms sliding off his black jacket to hang it on the rack by the door, “what news, then?”

“It’s Y/N,” the headmaid said carefully, probably knowing what his initial reaction would be.

His head shock up, eyes widening. The way she said it didn’t scream anything happy or good. And his stomach was already dropping when he pushed for further information.

“What about them?” He asks immediately, taking a few fearful steps forward in case he had to run to your rescue.

The Abyss, did they know he was the Dark Knight? Did they know they only had to get you to get to him? Or did you take some ungodly commission that landed you injured or even dead? Adeline’s unchanging exression didn’t give him any clues, and it felt like forever before she finished her news.

“They’re in the master bath,” she says and uses a hand to motion to the stairs that would lead to both your shared bedroom and shared bathroom, “I advise you go to them immediately, I was given strict instructions not to tell you.”

Okay, you were alive. That was the best thing he’d heard all day. You were alive, but what had happened? What had she been ordered not to tell, and who ordered it? Were you hurt? Archons if you were hurt….his blood boiled in his veins as he thought of that possibility. 

His feet couldn’t move fast enough up the stairs as he shouted, “Y/N!”

He flung the door open to the masterbathroom, no knocking for privacy. He just needed to see you.

And there you were, standing in front of the sink, a bandage gripped between your teeth as you struggled to wrap it around your own arm. You jumped when he burst through the door, eyes wide and dropping the bandage.

You were covered in dirt and grime and…blood. It was the first thing he noticed. He couldn’t tell bruise from dirt on a glance, he just knew that the blood was definately your own.

“Diluc?!” You say in shock, “what are you doing home so early?”

You had, indeed, come out of the battle with the mage alive. Burned and scared and cut by crude spears, but you’d done it. Just as you knew you could. You’d come back alive, as you always promised each other. But it seems that wasn’t enough for your distressed partner.

He stood, frozen in the doorway of the bathroom, hands holding the door open. His red eyes were scanning all over your body, stoping on every visible mark. Every injury that was, without a doubt, causing you pain. He could tell in the way your jaw was clenched, and the way your hands trembled every so slightly as they held the antiseptic alcohol and bandages. 

When he didn’t respond to you, you wondered if he was somehow malfunctioning. Normally he would be livid, accusing everyone involved in the matter of not protecting you. Was he perhaps…calmer than usual?

His eyes began to darken, his jaw setting, and his hands clenched on the golden doorknob he was still holding. No. He wasn’t calm. He was angry, pissed even.

“Who did this to you?” He asks next.

You sigh, knowing this was coming, “it’s nothing, Diluc, I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” he lets go of the door, and you expect his grip on you to be a little more rough than normal given his emotional state.

But his fingers were soft, hesitating to touch your burned skin directly for fear of his unnaturally warm body temperature making it worse. The other hand reaches for your chin, holding it so sofly you wonder if he would stop you from resisting his turn to face him. And even though his expression was one that could stop a mage in its tracks, you didn’t turn away. You knew it was a look of anger on your behalf, not against you.

“Who. Did. This?”

There was no point in arguing against telling him who it was. That was an argument you would lose every time.

With heavy shoulders and a look of defeat, you frown, “there was an Abyss Mage at the hilichurl camp I cleared out. Pyro, if you couldn’t tell.”

It was meant to lighten the mood, to make him more at ease because you were fine. But his grip tightened ever so slightly on your chin at the confession. He hated those things enough already, always griping about how they were nothing but a nuisance to his life and city. He had it out for them enough without this adding on top of his pile of resentment. Now he would never stop hunting them down every chance he got.

“Is it dead?” He asks.

No. It wasn’t. You finished off everything in the camp except for it.

“Yes.” You lie, not wanting him to go running off into the night to hunt it down. 

But he knows you too well. He knows the way your eyes flit away from his to say it, the way you lean into his touch just the slightest bit more. Those were the tells.

Diluc raises an eyebrow, that you don’t see. “Y/N.”

The way he spoke your name. You knew now wasn’t the time to dance around the topic because of it.

So you huff, “no.”

He lets you go, finger tips lingering on your skin, and turns around. For a moment you wonder if you’ve upset him by lying. Surely he wouldn’t leave you in this state, even if that was what you had originally wanted. He’d seen you now, would he still leave?

“Adeline,” he speaks to the maid who had been aptiently waiting in the open doorway, “take care of them until I return.”

“Diluc.” You call out as he starts to walk out of the bathroom, “please don’t. It’s probably long gone by now, this isn’t worth it.”

He doesn’t look over his shoulder, “it hurt you. I’ll hunt it to the ends of the Teyvat.”

You wondered why he wouldn’t look at you as you follow him out onto the hall. You watched him march down the stairs, fists clenched and grabbing his jacket and claymore from where he had put them moments ago. He could never walk away from a fight, even if someone begged him. And you tried so many times to beg him. Just like you would try now.

“Please…Diluc.” You say, voice quiet and almost a whisper to him.

He stopped at the top of the stairs, the sound of your voice rough from smoke inhalation making his steps falter.

“Later, you can get it later. Please don’t leave me like this.” You begged, hoping your voice got across how desperate you were for him. For his presence and affection. Even if he left you in the capable hands of Adeline, you wanted him. His touch and scent and voice. You always wanted him to be the one to take care of you when you were hurt.

You opened your mouth to tell him that you didn’t want him to, that he could let it go just this once. But he had his hands on his claymore by the door and was storming out on a rampage to find who did this to you.

★★★★★★★★

Sleep wasn’t going to come easy and you knew it. Diluc had gone out on Dark Knight patrol almost every night, but this was different. He didn’t have his sense right this time, and that was a recipe for disaster. He could lose his head in a fight and get seriously hurt.

So you were curled up at the table that sat in the center of the winery, draped in his jacket that he’d foolishly left behind in his hurry to get out of there. Your eyes were on the table, tracing designs on the wood as you waited.

Adeline had patched you up like a pro and had given you a pain potion, but it did little ease your anxiety about Diluc’s wellbeing. The maid had gone to bed, leaving you to wait for his return.

The moon was high when the door opened, and your foggy brain seemed to clear almost instantly when you perked up.

His claymore was gripped in his hand, though loosely this time. His anger had subsided, so that must mean he had gotten it. The mage. Or at least a mage. 

Of course he did. You didn’t doubt that he would find it and kill it, you were just concered over his well being. And he was fine.

You stood up, legs arcing as the bandages rub against the burned skin. You ignored it, rushing towards the door. His head lifts when he hearts the approach, probabl assuming everyone was asleep by now.

With your arms thrown around his shoulders, you collapse against him. He drops the heavy sword and catches your waist, hands as gentle as ever in their touch. Even with rough fingertips from years of training, he always touched you like glass.

“You should be resting,” he mutters, pressing his face into your hair and wrapping his arms around you now, “you’re hurt.”

You press your face into his shoulder, “you think I could sleep? You ran off.”

There’s silence. You were right. He had run off, leaving you in the care of someone else when you begged him to stay. Guilt filled the gap in his chest where anger had once settled, outshined only by his love for you. His arms tightened, holding you closer and almost lifting your feet off of the ground.

“You’re okay,” he says, as if it was just dawning on him, “you’re okay. I’m sorry.”

“I’ll forgive you…” you say and slowly pull away from him so you can look into his eyes, which werelined red from the holding back of tears he was doing, “if you promise me you’ll always come back.”

The first time their promise had been spoken out loud by either. After years of silently kissing and hoping that the point was gotten across, you needed to hear it out loud. You needed to know that he would always come back to you just as much as he needed to hear it from you.

“I promise,” he says just as quietly as you had, afraid someone would hear and steal that promise from you two, “can you promise the same?”

You nod, “yes, I promise.”

You kiss him, quickly passioantely to seal the deal. Only then do you both relax, the events fom the long day settling into your bones. Both of you were exhausted and wanted to curl into each other and bask in the fact that you were both alive.

“Diluc,” you mutter against his lips, “you’re gonna have to carry me upstairs.”

He laughs, the sound echoing around the empty bottom floor of the winery. A sound that was alien to anyone outside of this building, and one forgotten by many others. But it was a sound only you had committed to memory anymore.

He leans down to scoop up your legs, and carry you off to bed with him.

#diluc rangnvindr x reader #diluc imagine #diluc ragnvindr #diluc ragnvindr imagine #genshin impact imagine #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #the dark knight #the dark night hero #the knights of favonius #diluc x reader #imagine imagines #genshin impact imagines #genshin fanfic #fanfic #fic #fanfiction #imagines #diluc hurt/comfort

[pluviowriting]

Someone to Call Mine

Word Count: 1.9k

Adeline was having the worst day. She woke up late, missed transfiguration - and breakfast, but that felt less important than missing class with her favorite professor. She couldn’t find her tie anywhere, and her hunt for the article of clothing that seemed to have grown legs and left her dormitory of its own accord had almost made her late to potions. She still looked disheveled as she hurried in, and of course she was the last to arrive. Even Professor Sharp looked up from his desk as she walked in. She just smiled, hoping that if she ignored the fact that she looked a disheveled mess, everyone else would too.

”You look like shit.” Sebastian Sallow, her potions partner, leaned down and whispered in her ear.

”Wow, Seb. Thank you. I hadn’t noticed.” She grumbled out, pulling her notebook out to get prepared for class. “I slept through transfiguration, and I hardly made it here in time. I don’t have the patience for your attitude today.”

He held up his hands in mock surrender. “My apologies. Don’t want to be on the bad side of the Hero of Hogwarts, now do I?”

”I swear to Merlin, if you don’t knock it off.”

Her friend just chuckled as Sharp began class.

”Today, you’ll be brewing amortentia. Can anyone tell me what this potion is known for? Mister Thakkar?”

”Amortentia is the strongest love potion to exist. It has a mother of pearl sheen and the steam comes off in perfect spirals if brewed correctly. It’s meant to smell like what someone is most attracted to. If consumed, the person is in a lovestruck trance until an antidote is administered.”

”That’s correct. Points to Ravenclaw.”

Addie grinned, shooting her housemate a thumbs up from across the potions station. At least one of them was a good representative of their house today. Amit returned her smile, giving her a slight wave as well.

”The recipe can be found in your textbooks, each pairing will be required to brew a batch of amortentia. You’ll be graded on its appearance. I’d recommend you get to work.”

Sebastian was immediately off with half of the other students to gather the necessary potion ingredients, well the ones that Sharp would provide them with anyways.

”Well, good morning Adeline.”

Her eyes snapped up to Amit’s potions partner, and they immediately narrowed into a glare.

”Weasley. I don’t have the patience for your nuisance today.”

He clicked his tongue in amusement, his facial expression nothing short of antagonistic. “And all I was doing was wishing you a good morning.”

“I can hear the gears trying to turn in your skull from here. You weren’t just wishing me good morning.”

Whatever snarky reply the redhead was going to give her seemed to die in his throat as Amit and Sebastian returned.

“I see you’re all settling in. I want to ensure everyone is putting forth their best efforts with this potion, as it can be dangerous if brewed incorrectly. Without switching potion stations, switch partners.”

Adeline hardly had time to process Sharp’s instructions before she heard Sebastian speak.

”Addie, I am so sorry. Amit, you’re with me.”

Once her brain finally caught up, the realization of what Sebastian was apologizing for dawned on her. He had taken Amit for himself and left her to be partners with Garreth. She hadn’t felt this betrayed since the night he had deigned to call her ignorant. Unfortunately, she’d have to deal with her traitorous friend later. 

”Look at us, Adeline. Why, I don’t think you’ve assisted me with potions since your first class when you so graciously grabbed that fwooper feather for me,” Garreth spoke cheerfully as he and Sebastian swapped places to stand near their new partners.

”And we both know how well that turned out. You made a right mess and I ended up in hot water with Sharp.”

“And it blew over immediately, you charmed the socks off of him. I don’t even think it cost you any house points. I was the one stuck behind cleaning it up.”

It hadn’t, thankfully, but there were a lot of things Adeline would do before telling Garreth Weasley he was right. Facing Ranrok again under the school without her wand made that list.

”Whatever, we don’t have time to be bickering. I assume you are capable of following instructions on a potion as precarious as this one? Or are you going to throw an errant ingredient in there to see if you can change the shape of the steam?”

”I am quite capable, thank you for your unwavering belief in my abilities. Surely you know Ravenclaw doesn’t house the only smart students in this school.”

She simply nodded, not saying another word as she began preparing the ingredients for amortentia. One of the perks of not losing her adventurous spirit after fifth year was she never had to go looking for potion ingredients to complete assignments. She always had a backstock of them - especially since she invested in hopping pots to keep her own potion stock filled.

“The ingredients will go bad if you prepare them now. We need to go find them, Adeline.”

“No we don’t. I have what Sharp doesn’t supply. Are you just going to sit and watch me or are you going to contribute?”

She was pleased with herself when he silently moved closer to what was now their station and took over prepping another ingredient.

—————————

“Miss Redferne. Since you and Mister Weasley seem to have accomplished brewing your amortentia so quickly, why don’t you both demonstrate how this potion smells differently and tell us what you smell.” Sharp’s voice boomed throughout the potions classroom, and suddenly every student’s focus was on her and Garreth.

She took a step closer to the cauldron, holding her hair back as she leaned over and wafted the steam to her nose.

“I smell something sweet, like fizzing whizbees. And smoke. And the library? It smells like books and parchment.”

Upon realizing the smell she had described, her face paled. Her amortentia smelled like Garreth fucking Weasley. Fizzing whizbees from her trip through the secret passage to get him the billywig stings. Smoke from the several potion failures he’d had in class over the two and a half years she had known him. Old pages and parchment from the nights they’d been the only two in the library, sharing a table so they could taunt each other about who would get top marks without getting scolded by Scribner.

Without another moment’s hesitation, she turned and fled from the classroom, forever grateful she and Sebastian had wanted to be as far from the professor as possible. By the time she regained her sense of self, she was near the fountain in the transfiguration courtyard. She sat on an empty bench, burying her head in her hands as she started to embrace the crisis this development was pushing her towards. However, that was swiftly axed as she apparently couldn’t even panic in peace.

“Fizzing whizbees, smoke, and the library, hmm?”

Her head lifted slowly, hoping to Merlin her ears were playing tricks on her and she wouldn’t see who she thought she heard by the time she was looking at his face. Merlin was no help. She found herself looking into the green eyes of Garreth.

“Sod off, Weasley. Can’t you let me suffer in solitude?”

“And what if I was coming to embarrass myself like you did?” He questioned, still standing above her.

“I’m not that interested in hearing what you smelled.”

“Oh Addie, don’t be like that. Surely you could make a guess. Aren’t Ravenclaws meant to be smart?”

“I am smart! My mind won’t work when you’re around!” She shouted at him, no longer caring that they were in the middle of the courtyard and had an audience.

Even if she could think properly, her brain was broken almost the second she finished speaking. If her eyes hadn’t still been open, she wouldn’t have believed what happened. Garreth Weasley had practically flown at her, closing the distance between them until his lips were pressed to hers. His hands were holding either side of her face, and the moment she caught up, she relaxed. Her eyes closed and her hands fisted the front of his robes. The only thing she could think at that moment was that she wanted to freeze time.

“Excuse me!”

Adeline leapt back, her eyes falling on Professor Weasley who was standing and looking at the two with her arms crossed. Her own hand went up, feeling her swollen lips beneath her fingertips.

“Aunt Matilda…” Garreth rubbed the back of his neck, looking at her sheepishly. “I can explain?”

“I tried to get your attention three times. Three. You two cannot just be acting like this in the middle of school property.”

Both students reacted to the statement with flushed cheeks, and it seems they missed the gleam in the woman’s eye.

”Don’t let me, or anyone else for that matter, catch you two behaving that way again or else it will be detention and points from both of your houses.”

The pair answered in unison, only looking at each other once Professor Weasley had left. It was a long moment before either said something, and the first to break the silence was Garreth.

”Mallowsweet, a thunderstorm, and the library.” He looked at her with a soft smile, a stark contrast to the smug boyish grin he usually had plastered on his handsome face. “Mallowsweet, because you’re always carrying an absurd amount of it everywhere you go. The library because it’s where I see you most often. I believe the thunderstorm comes from that wondrous ancient magic of yours. I’ve seen you practically summon lightning.”

Her mouth felt dry as she processed what he was saying, but her mind didn’t seem to want to work with her mouth.

Y-you smell me?” She asked, her tone incredulous as her eyebrows furrowed.

“Yes! Merlin, for someone meant to be the brightest witch of our generation, you’re awfully slow.”

His signature grin made its way back to his face and he stood in front of her. She was still frozen in place, part of her unsure of what to do and the other part concerned about the threat Professor Weasley had leveled at them. Luckily for her, Garreth took her silence as an invitation to keep speaking.

“I’ve known since the first time we spoke. Well, alright. I didn’t exactly know then. I just knew I liked pressing your buttons, after you got short with me over putting you on Sharp’s bad side. I knew for certain at the end of fifth year. I heard some things I probably shouldn’t have about what happened under the school when I was heading to talk to Aunt Matilda.” He paused to take a breath, a soft laugh coming from his lips on the exhale. “All I could think was how I wish I had known and been able to be there for you. To help. Because there is nowhere you could go where I won’t be close behind.”

She opened her mouth to talk, to try and figure out where this grand statement was coming from, but he held up a hand to silence her. “You won’t interrupt me. Let me finish. I want to be there for you, Adeline. The earth could break apart, and as long as you’re alive, I’ll shoulder every weight for you. Hell, I’d hold up the bloody sky. I just need you to be alright.”

“Garreth Weasley.” Her voice was thick with emotion. “I cannot stand you.”

This time, he was the one with hardly any time to react as she talked closer to him, pulled him down by his tie, and smashed her lips to his. House points and detention be damned.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fic #hogwarts oc #gryffindor #slytherin #garreth weasley #garreth x f!mc #garreth x mc #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #ravenclaw #hufflepuff

[dw-writes]

Different Life - Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader

Summary: A wish once whispered about in the arms of your love is granted after a large sacrifice. Genre: Angst/Comfort Warnings: Blood, violence, death first actual demon slayer fic A/N: This was written really quickly at midnight and hasn't been proofread as @lpwrites is my beta for all things and is asleep so please enjoy this. let me know what you think :)

When you joined the Demon Slayer Corps, you didn’t think you would have a long life – there were too many dangerous missions, too many life stealing demons to think you could ever make it even into your twenties. But the twenties came and you became a kanoe, then were eyeballed by one or two hashira to be a tsugoku. You never committed. The man you wished to learn from never requested to train you.

However, he’d always make an excuse to see you – Sanemi needed a kanoe to fill the required number for a mission; Sanemi needed to train with someone capable; Sanemi needed someone to drink with that wasn’t Obanai. The excuses became weaker the closer you two became, until they were gone all together.

In the late nights, the early mornings, after collapsing together from a long night of demon hunting or a long night of enjoying each other’s bodies, you’d whisper about what life would be like after Muzan was defeated.

“We’ll build a house,” Sanemi would murmur against your ear, his fingers trailing up and down your back, his chin nudging your head as he started to kiss a trail down your neck, “Outside the city or some small village. Little farm, just for us.”

“And children?” you’d sigh against his skin, sometimes over his slowly calming heart, sometimes against his neck, other times as you placed gently kisses atop the scar across his cheek.

“At least six,” he’d mumble, rolling you onto your back. You’d stare up at him, a smile stretching across your face. Sanemi would settle between your legs and bury his face into the crook of your neck, the early morning sunlight turning silver in his hair. “Maybe more.”

“And you’ll be helping with them?” you joke.

He’d snort, and sigh, and link his calloused fingers with yours. “Of course I would,” he’d yawn, “Me. I’d rope Genya into it. Fuck, bet we could get the rest of the hashira, too.”

“What a lovely life,” you’d whisper as he slowly relaxed against you.

“Yeah,” he’d whisper back.

They were the many common memories that flashed through your mind as the Ubuyashiki manor exploded; as the infinity castle blossomed around you; as you ran after your crow, sword in hand, searching for Sanemi, for your friends, for Muzan. They were the memories that settled into the forefront of your mind as you joined the battle with Upper Moon One; as the shot from Genya’s gun rang loud in your ears, the bullet whizzing over your shoulder; as you lunged back, into his path as the Upper Moon swung his sword….

The floor was cold as you collapsed, warmth seeping into your skin as you watched the battle. Hands rolled you onto your back, pressed into areas of your body that shouldn’t have been exposed. The familiar face of Genya floated above you, in and out of focus. He was screaming, and then he wasn’t as he collapsed beside you.

You stared forever at the distant ceiling, your blood mixing with Genya’s pooling beside you. He mumbled something. You were sure you said something back.

Gyomei set an unconscious Sanemi at your side. “There is not more I can do for you, my friend,” he stated, his hand brushing your forehead, “Except for give you a chance to speak to him one last time.”

Your head lolled to the side, staring at Sanemi’s peaceful face. You’d seen it hundred of times, both bloody and not. You loved him regardless of how he looked. Your chest hurt as it became harder and harder to breathe. You wished you could touch him, but the only hand you could feel was too heavy.

“Different life,” you managed to wheeze out. Your eyes hurt as your vision blurred, “Lovely life.”

His eyes snapping open was the last thing you saw, his hands the last thing you felt, and his scream the last thing you heard.

In a different life, you sat straight up in bed, gasping, hand flying to your left side to feel the solid flesh. It wasn’t missing – your arm was there, your ribs, your side, it was all intact. You glanced at the clock and groaned as you saw you only had a few more minutes before your alarm went off and swung your legs out of bed.

“No more caffeine late at night,” you mumbled to yourself. You ate breakfast, brushed your teeth, got dressed all while thinking about the dream, trying to commit the details to memory. They kept slipping away the longer you thought of them, until it was a haze of purple and white and pain. You left your apartment and made your way to the elevator at the end of the hall.

Someone was already waiting. You didn’t recognize the white hair or the tall stature, but you also never really left your apartment at that time. You stepped up next to him, and yawned, attempting to give him a polite, “Good morning.”

He looked over with equally tired lavender eyes, a color that made your heart flutter in your throat a bit. They widened, a little more awake, and the man shifted to face you a bit more.

“Morning,” he murmured, “Early start?”

“Just a little,” you answered. You tilted your head the longer you stared at his face – the scars, the white hair with the bangs hanging just so, the tilt of his eyes, the muscles in his shoulders as he stood straighter, it was so achingly familiar, but you knew you had never met the man in your life, and yet you still found yourself asking, “Have we—”

“—met,” came his voice over yours as he asked the same thing. You both shared an awkward laugh, shuffled your feet, looked away, and then back.

You held out your hand and offered him your name.

It wasn’t what he thought you would say – he thought it would be something different, but not far off, as though there was a name he wanted to call you but couldn’t quite remember it. Still, he repeated it to himself, softly, in a way that made your cheeks burn, and he took your hand. “Shinazugawa Sanehiro,” he replied.

“Sanehiro,” you whispered. The name felt similar, not quite the name you thought he’d give you, but almost there. It was embarrassment that heated your face as you quickly corrected yourself, “Shinazugawa.”

He smirked, squeezed your hand, and let it go, “Sanehiro’s fine.”

“Awfully familiar,” you commented.

“And I think you’re awfully familiar, so it’s fine,” he shot back.

The elevator dinged, and the doors open. He stepped in first, glancing back at your stunned expression. “That was smooth,” you finally said as you followed him in. He pressed the button for the ground floor. “Are you free later?”

“Awfully familiar,” he teased, leaning back against the back wall.

You shrugged, and smiled, “I think you’re awfully familiar, Sanehiro.”

#demon slayer #sanemi shinaguzawa #sanemi x reader #kny sanemi #kny

[edges-of-night]

Spicy Headcanon Game: Haldir ✧･ﾟ

From @midgardian-witch​‘s post. I thought their prompts sounded fun & I really wanted to try something like this with Haldir (because he’s my fave haha!)

Let me know if you like this style of headcanon posting!

Are they dominant, submissive or a switch?

I feel like Haldir is someone who prefers to be in total control, be it in everyday life or sexual encounters. That said, he will absolutely melt for a partner he knows he can trust – which takes a lot of time and work, but someday he’ll confess to his desire to be dominated ♡

What is their favorite body part (in regards to their partner)?

Haldir strikes me as an ‘arse’ kind of person, both for himself and his partner. The way Craig Parker talks about the role also gave me the headcanon that Haldir does not think very highly of his own body in terms of traditional Elvish beauty. But as I said, he loves to have his arse(hole) touched and teased.

What’s a no go for them (in the bedroom)?

I feel like he’d draw a line at kisses on the mouth – until he meets his match, that is…

What would they pick as their safeword?

Haldir would be bad at choosing a safeword, I think haha! He’d wrack his brains and despair at the implications – Why would a strong Elf need a certain word to make their partner stop? – but in the end, he’d settle for something a little too goofy for his ears, probably in Sindarin.

What’s their favorite position?

Anything standing up! It’s quick, clean and hard, just as he likes it. (He also likes to bottom in missionary, but don’t tell him I said that haha!)

What’s their favorite way to be intimate (can be non-sexual)?

Intimacy is a red rag to Haldir. It complicates things, it lingers and hurts. That said, he does like to embrace and be embraced in return, safe and sound. ‘Human hugs’ should be dirty for him, but he cannot deny the rush of warmth and quickened heartbeat anytime he does allow them…

Which petname/honorific/title do they prefer for themselves?

While I can’t think of a specific preference, I do think he dislikes anything that would imply him being ‘unmanly’, whatever that means to him personally. In general though I don’t think Haldir is that big on petnames when it comes to himself.

Which petname/honorific/title do they use for their partner?

Haldir does not assign petnames lightly. He much prefers to call his partner by their name, short or full version (think ‘Aragorn of the Dúnedain’). However I do feel like he likes to use ‘bunny’ (laboth in Sindarin) as a term of endearment – an animal that’s pretty but swift and clever, too.

What’s their favorite toy?

Knives, if you can call those toys. He enjoys the thrill and power surge they give him, running them along his partner’s throat and chest – and having the same done to him in return. However I’m thinking, while Elves in generally are pretty eager to experiment with toys, Haldir is regarded as a prude among his kind.

How experienced are they?

Pretty experienced sexually even in long term partnerships, I’d say, but inexperienced with romantic love/intimacy.

What noises do they make?

Haldir strikes me as someone who would keep very quiet during sex and doesn’t appreciate much talking. When he allows himself to be vulnerable, however, a few breathy moans do escape his mouth. You could only get a waterfall of words out of this Elf via a telepathic connection, or by getting him really, really drunk.

What ‘common’ kink do they have?

I feel like Haldir, being rather dominant than submissive, would enjoy choking his partner or doing breath play of any kind. It gives him a rush of power.

What universe-specific kink (like Monster Fucker, tentacles, etc.) do they have if any?

Once Haldir meets his perfect match, the one person he wants to be with more than anyone else, he yearns to use his Elven telepathy during sex. This requires great intimacy and openness from both partners, so it’s not something he’d do during a quick relief of stress with a fellow soldier in Lórien. As I said, he’s not too keen on talking during sex, but that goes out the window when he sinks into telepathic communication with his partner – since no one else could hear it, he’d shower them with sweet nothings ♡

What do they do for foreplay?

Haldir is not big on foreplay, usually. If he is with a partner he trusts entirely, he’ll let himself fall and get hot and bothered just by having his body showered in kisses.

What do they do for aftercare?

Haldir would avoid aftercare entirely if that wouldn’t mean leaving behind a mess. He’d swiftly clean up himself and his partner, maybe even give a polite kiss before leaving, but I think that’s about it. Even if someone does manage to win his heart, he is not too big on taking joint baths, drinking etc. and would rather just fall asleep in his partner’s arms.

What unexpected kink do they have?

Sex in water!

What unexpected turn-on do they have?

See above: baths. At least that’s unexpected to himself, I guess! Haldir loves taking baths and staying clean, but after he had sex in a pool for the first time, he’s a changed man. The pleasure would irritate him at first, but passion would quickly overtake his initial surprise. He adores the water flowing around him and his lover, and how slick it makes every movement and kiss – and how light it makes his body feel.

Where do they prefer to have sex?

While bath sex drives him absolutely insane, and the forest of Lothlórien provides anonymity for quickies, Haldir’s favourite place to sleep with his partner is someplace safe and sound, preferably on a soft surface, like a fur. He loves the fluffy texture, intimacy and perceived normality of such sex, rather than something quick that he needs to keep a secret – but he’d never admit to that, needless to say!

Free form:

A random smutty headcanon I have for Haldir is that he is kind of scared of aphrodisiacs? He’s comically afraid of them exposing his true feelings, or simply tasting bad when he puts them in his mouth. Granted, this is nothing too outlandish as a personal boundary. However, what makes this "weird" in-universe is that I headcanon Elves as generally very open to all kinds of sex toys and stimulants. Haldir is definitely marked as a prude among his hedonistic kind, something that only contributes to his negative feelings about himself not belonging etc. Of course once he’s fallen in love, there is no need for an aphrodisiac anyway – the man would wait on you hand and foot! ♡

#lotr imagine #lotr headcanons #lotr x reader #haldir headcanons #haldir x reader #* smutty #i'm coming back with a bang haha!

[sl-newsie]

Query: Q x 00 Agent- Ch. 2: Mrs. White

Thankfully on top of Bond’s knowledge of being a spy, I’ve also picked up on his knowledge of proper dress attire. My apartment’s closet may be small, but I’ve filled any available closet space with clothing for every kind of occasion. Tonight, I decide on an emerald green dress with a v-neck. Not short enough to be distracting, but something a nun might frown at. Paired with silver earrings and simple black flats, my appearance seems reasonable.

“Wish me luck, Cricket.” I give a wave goodbye to the gray tabby as I shut the door.

M seems to have spared no expense, because when I exit my apartment building I find a sleek black Bentley waiting for me. The driver ushers me in without a word and drives straight to the glamorous Blixen. It’s mid-evening, which has produced a decent crowd of wealthy patrons. If it weren’t for my business here I’d feel very out of place. I walk up to the host, about to question about a table-

“Ah, Mrs. White. Your husband is expecting you!” The host greets me and begins leading me down the aisle.

Husband?! Is this what Bond goes through on a daily basis? This new Quartermaster better be as nice as Eve insists, because this whole situation feels like a gag. The host shows me to a table near the back next to a window that displays a gorgeous view of the city. It’s empty, meaning that my ‘husband’ is yet to show.

“Mr. White said he was running late, but you should still order anything you like. Our special tonight is lamb and chickpea stew. Please, enjoy!”

“Many thanks to you, sir.”

I unfold the menu and discreetly begin searching the surrounding patrons for any potential threats. There are none, only a few happy drunks near the bar. I check my watch, seeing that ten minutes have passed. Is this whole thing a joke-?

“Well hello there, Mrs. White.”

My made-up name almost makes me smile. The voice that said it seems strange, almost-

I look up, and almost think the lanky man has the wrong table. His face is young enough to pass as a college bloke, almost child-like. Dark, quirky eyebrows are arched over his brown eyes, full of curiosity. Simple glasses with a black lining cover these inquiring eyes. He’s wearing a very elegant suit, though not as expensive as Bond’s. Coincidentally his tie’s color is almost identical to my dress. I’ll admit he does clean up nice for a younger fellow. If it weren’t for his disheveled brown hair I’d say he was on a first date trying to impress me.

“Hello, Mr. White. I didn’t think they’d allow anyone to have such a messy haircut. I'm even required to keep mine up.”

The geeky man seems unfazed by my comment and settles down in the chair across from me, giving the menu a good search. 

“I don’t do field work.”

My face can’t suppress a smirk. “Of course. You’re just the nerd behind the computer.”

Now I’ve got his attention because his eyes shift up to look at me, almost seeming to belittle me. “I’m the nerd behind the computer that can save your life, agent. Do you want this evening’s conversation to be effective or would you rather go down the street to the local pub to chat in a more childish manner?”

We’re left in a silent glaring battle. How does this guy have just as much spunk as Bond? I’ve not known him for five minutes and he’s already referred to me as a child. Two can play at that game.

“I don’t intend to chat with someone who’s mother still ties his shoes. Either tell me why M sent you to mock me or I am leaving.”

The man keeps a laid-back demeanor as he rises and rounds the table to lean down and whisper: “Pardon my french, love, but I’m your fucking Quartermaster and you better listen if you want to make it through your next mission alive. Do I make myself clear?”

His icy words leave me stunned, only being able to nod in response. Thankfully the waiter arrives now to save me from more arguing.

“Good evening, Mr. White. What will you be having this evening?”

“I will only have a cup of hot tea. Earl Gray, please.”

The waiter is surprised by this simple request, as am I. But he masks it well and turns to take my order.

“I’ll have a lavender lemonade martini.”

“Really, dear? I thought you might be hungry.” God this man really gets on my nerves.

“I lost my appetite,” I reply sweetly but with fiery eyes.

Once the waiter leaves looking rather frazzled, the Quartermaster gives me a skeptical look. “I see you picked up Bond’s love for alcohol.”

I shake my head and toy with the silverware. “Not in the slightest. I just really like lemonade. But if I’d ordered that you’d think I was a child compared to your choice of grown-up tea.”

He actually laughs at my small joke. “Earl Gray tea, only the best. But I wouldn’t think of you differently if you ordered lemonade.”

“Hm. So you don’t like alcohol?”

“I don’t drink on the job. Matter of fact, I don't drink at all.”

The waiter is very quick to drop our drinks off despite me trying to give him a friendly smile.

“Very mature of you. Yet it’s strange of you to only order a cup of tea in a fancy place like this. Ever been here, Quartermaster?”

The man sips his steaming mug of tea. “First, call me Q. It’s much easier. Second, no I’ve never been here. This is probably the most expensive restaurant I’ve ever set foot in.”

“So we both agree that M has exquisite taste?”

“Yes. Speaking of which, let’s get back to the task at hand.” Q pauses to take out a messenger bag he’s brought with him, then pulls out a silver necklace with a blue pendant on it. “For you, Mrs. White.”

“Thank you, dear husband,” I mock in the same cheesy tone. “If this whole dinner was to bribe me with jewelry then M obviously doesn’t know me so well.”

“Haha, we’re all laughing,” Q states dryly as his steady hands clip it around my neck. “It’s actually a disguised tracker. And this-” He pulls out a small box from his bag and opens it to reveal a pouch. “This is a sheath for one of our best non-metallic knives. Undetectable, very elegant and light weight. Which is why I named it Mrs. White in your honor.”

“Yeah, um, why the whole charade of you and me? You could’ve just said we were two old friends meeting for a chat.”

“People don’t ask questions when a married couple is involved,” Q replies lazily as he hands me the knife sheath. “It’s designed for you to wear it anywhere in order to avoid suspicion.”

I smirk. “Oh, like my bust?”

Q doesn’t even flinch. “Yes. Obviously Bond’s also schooled you in flirting, so this jewelry as you called it should suffice.”

“You’re having me model the necklace.” I raise a brow. “Would you have me try on the sheath as well?”

Q takes a deep breath. “Moving on. With the state Bond’s left the current espionage situation in, he’ll be sent to Hong Kong and you to Ireland.”

I almost choke on my drink. “You’re splitting us up? Bond and I are usually joined at the hip for missions.”

This seems to pinch something in Q. In the corner of my eye I see his eyes flick up to search my face for something.

“Figuratively or literally?”

Is this jealousy I detect? “Oh don’t flatter me. Bond never acts like that with me. He knows I put business before pleasure. So why Ireland?”

Q relaxes and takes another sip of this tea. “Closer to home. Better for us to keep an eye on you.”

My nose scrunches. “Are you saying I need a babysitter?”

“In a word, yes. You’re one of our youngest agents, which is why you’ve always been paired with someone.”

I take a good swig of spiked lemonade, then stare him square in the face. “Alright, just say it. You don’t think I’m qualified. You’re just like my last Quartermaster, who thought I belonged as a secretary. I may be young, but I am not dumb, Q. Just ask M. She knows I can go the distance.”

No matter how hard I’ve trained I never seem to control my temper. My own self-pride seems to betray me in delicate situations, and this is probably going to make Q dislike me even more.

However Q seems to take my small outburst surprisingly well. He finishes his tea and takes another deep breath. “I understand, agent. Being one who is also part of the outnumbered youth, I’m afraid our stereotyping of being under qualified only dissipates with age. But please let me finish: This time we are sending you on a solo mission under careful surveillance.”

Did- Did I hear that right? Solo mission? Bond guessed I wouldn't be eligible for those for years.

“Are you bluffing? How on Earth did I get waved for a solo mission?”

Q smiles at my giddy reaction. “I pulled a few strings. M and Eve both told me you could handle it.”

Keeping silent, I rise, move around the table, and pull in a surprised Q for a tight hug.

“Oh thank you! Thank you!” I whisper with contained excitement.

Q keeps stiff as a board, then grunts. “Um, first off, no hugging the Quartermaster.”

“Why? Are you a germaphobe?”

“I don’t do hugs.”

I partake in his request and release him, still smiling like a madman. “Ah. So how about a handshake?”

He considers this, then nods. “That’s acceptable.”

I vigorously grab his skinny hand and give it a firm shake. “I will not disappoint you!”

Q finally mirrors my smile as we begin to make our way to the cashier. “Better not, darling. I’d hate to have to attend your funeral.”

#quartermaster x reader #quartermaster #q x reader #james bond #daniel craig #ben whishaw #skyfall #spectre #no time to die #007 #james bond 007

[letsquestjess]

To the Tracks

Summary: In need of credits and fast, Tech enters a riot race, much to the worry of Hunter.

Word count: 1603

Warnings: None.

A/N: I’m posting this a bit earlier than planned. To those who have been struggling with losing Tech and the announcement yesterday about season 3 being the last, I hope this makes you smile.

- - - - -

“That’s our last crate of rations, so we need to be sparing with it,” Hunter said, checking over the inventory and making a note of everything they had left in their bundle of supplies. 

“It lasted longer than I thought it would,” Echo admitted, “but we’re going to find more food soon. And the medical supplies are running low. Omega could also do with a new jacket. I’m not sure how many times we can patch it up.” 

Hunter’s forehead creased. With an irritated huff, he slumped against the empty crates by the impact seats. When they’d cut ties with Cid, he’d done everything he could to keep them well-stocked, but the carefully rationed provisions quickly dwindled and every supply run grew more and more precarious. As the Empire expanded, Rebel planets could barely feed their own people, and venturing into enemy territory was proving to be risky. 

“Perhaps we should start looking at some bounties.”

“We are not bounty hunters,” Echo replied, shaking his head. “You can’t seriously be considering this?”

“Look, we’ll be selective in the jobs we take. Unless you have any bright ideas?”

Echo’s jaw tensed and he rubbed the nape of his neck. Although he was glad to see that his brothers had ended their partnership with Cid, he hadn’t initially considered the consequences when he’d expressed his approval.  

“As much as I’d love to settle down, it’s not safe. Not yet,” Hunter continued. “If the Empire finds us-”

“I know. I’m perfectly aware of what we’re up against. But we also can’t just go taking bounties and end up working for someone like Cid, or worse.” 

The co-pilot seat creaked as it rotated, and an insistent cough caught their attention. “We can hear you arguing, you know,” Omega said. “If you’re looking for more money, we already have a solution. There’s a riot race tournament coming up not too far away, and they’re offering a lot of credits for first place.”

“So?” Echo said. “What has that got to do with us?” 

“Tech can enter it. He’s done it before.”

Exhaling, Hunter massaged the bridge of his nose. “Aren’t we supposed to be keeping a low profile? And have you asked Tech what his opinion is on this?” 

“Who do you think found the tournament?” Wrecker laughed.

The clone in question turned in his seat, datapad in hand and calculations passing between his tapping fingers. “While this may not be the ideal solution, it is more than feasible. We would only be required to be at the track for a few hours at most. I have already studied my last race and analysed the list of competitors for this tournament. None seem to be efficient, so my victory is guaranteed.” 

“But you don’t even have a pod,” Hunter argued.

“Actually, I have been spending my spare time constructing the required parts. All I need now is the outer casing, which should not be too difficult to come by when we arrive. There are several shops near the arena and I have accounted for the expense.” 

Echo shrugged at Hunter’s pleading glance and the Batch’s leader grumbled. “Why do I feel like this has already been decided?”

* * *

A cacophony of noise and the stench of burning fuel bombarded them before they’d even left the ship port. Grubby, scuffed posters pointed them towards the track, and Hunter kept them in tight formation as they picked up the casing of Tech’s pod and followed the sounds of thundering engines and cheering spectators. 

As they entered, a vehicle shrieked along the sand and tumbled over the lanes, exploding into a shower of several dozen blazing fragments and a heady cloud of smoke. The audience flinched in horror. Loud gasps and mutters lingered behind the commentator’s enthusiastic surprise. Seconds passed in a hush until the driver emerged, covered in grit and drinking in the raucous applause. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Hunter said. 

“Everything will be fine,” Wrecker replied, hauling the pre-made frame of his brother’s pod and the crate of components behind him. “You haven’t seen him race. Those credits are as good as ours.”

Tech guided them to his designated garage and got to work, allocating tasks to each of his siblings and fixing each segment into place. 

At every crash and bang from the tracks, Hunter desperately searched for a means of escape. There had to be another way. In battle, danger was expected, but he’d hoped they wouldn’t have to deal with this kind of risk once they’d split from Cid. 

A nearby collision rattled the garage. The commentators shouted for medical attention, and the growing agitation outside gnawed away at Hunter until his nerves nearly snapped. 

“Are you completely certain about this, Tech?” he asked quietly, peeking over at Omega and Wrecker painting the outer frame. “You don’t have to go through with it. I know I said we needed credits, but we can find something else. Something a little less risky.” 

“I appreciate your concern, but it is unnecessary,” Tech told him. With a deep, concentrated pinch in his brow, he connected the last part of the pod. “As you rightly surmised, we need credits, and winning this race shall provide us with what we require.” He glanced up and tilted his head. “Are you doubtful of my skills?”

“No,” Hunter answered without a second thought. “Of course I’m not. I’ve seen how you pilot the Marauder, but this is… it’s…”

“It isn’t exactly the craziest thing we’ve done,” Echo said, leaning against the messy work surface scattered with tools and splotches of oil. “We’ve trusted Tech to get us out of some tricky situations in the past, and he’s never let us down, so this shouldn’t be any different. Although, if you get killed out there, I will find a way to bring you back just to tell you how reckless this whole idea was.”

“Noted,” Tech agreed. 

“We’re finished!” Omega declared.

As instructed, they’d left no identifiable markings on the exterior of the pod, opting instead to paint it in an inky black with a crimson stripe running down the centre.

“There are no markings, just like you told us,” she said at Hunter’s silence. 

“And we figured if it was darker, it would be tougher for the other racers to see in the tunnels,” Wrecker added. “It gets real nasty in there.” 

“Looks great,” Hunter assured them, earning himself two triumphant smiles. As the previous race ended and the commentators eagerly announced the competitors for the next, he turned his attention to Tech. “Sounds like they’re ready for you. If you’re sure about this, we better get you to the starting line.”

* * *

“He’ll be all right, you know,” Echo said, joining Hunter by the railings. “Wrecker and Omega seem pretty confident he’s going to win.”

“As long as he gets out of this in one piece, that’s a success in my book,” he sighed, tapping on the metal rails and wishing it would end quickly. 

Overhead, the countdown bleeped, and at the blaring horn the racers took off. A thick veil of sand and dust shot up and trailed pitifully onto the ground. 

Hunter paced. He attempted to tune out the shouting of the crowd and the overzealous remarks from the commentators, encouraging Wrecker to maintain communication at all times. 

“He’s coming back round,” Omega called, dashing to the barrier. “Look!” Cheering in support, she waved to the passing pod as it whooshed past in a flurry of dirt and wisps of fumes. 

“Why is there smoke?” Hunter stressed. 

“Tech said it’s okay,” Wrecker assured him. “Took a bit of a knock from another racer, but he’s sorted it.” He shoved the datapad into his hands. “Just watch.”

The tracker watched as his brother piloted the pod through twisting tunnels and tight bends, manoeuvring as though he’d been made for the momentum of the tracks. He struggled to recall the last time he’d seen him so in his element. A faint smile tugged at brother’s lips, and some of the concern vanished.

“See,” Wrecker said, nudging his arm. “Our Tech knows what he’s doing.”

“He seems so happy,” Hunter breathed. 

“Course he is. He’s always happiest when he can use that brain of his to make something work better and faster. You remember pilot training, right?”

How could he forget? Tech’s flight simulation scores had remained unbeaten throughout their schooling. He’d continually discovered new strategies for handling the craft when he practised, and he became quicker in his reactions and decisions, even suggesting potential improvements to their instructors. Hunter had been proud of him then, and that same feeling swelled in his heart now. 

“Come on! You can do it!” Omega shouted, leaning over the railing. Wrecker scooped her up and perched her onto his shoulders, and she signalled to the final tunnel. “I can see him! There he is!”

In a close call, Tech skidded ahead of his competition, the pod spitting sparks as he crossed the finish line. He climbed out of the vehicle as the other contenders raced past and accepted the loss, some more graciously than others. 

Omega hurried to him and encircled her arms around him, and Wrecker and Echo both waited at the garage with proud grins. 

“Looked pretty dicey at one point,” Hunter said once his siblings had congratulated their triumphant racer on his win. “Almost wondered if you were going to make it.”

“You really did not need to worry,” Tech told him matter-of-factly.

“You are my brother,” Hunter replied. “I will always worry about you.”

#tbb #the bad batch #tbb spoilers #the bad batch spoilers #tbb fic #tbb fanfic #tbb fanfiction #the bad batch fic #the bad batch fanfic #the bad batch fanfiction #sw tbb #sw the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #sw fanfiction #tbb tech #tbb hunter #tbb wrecker #tbb echo #tbb omega #clone force 99

[sorroute]

i literally just came across your blog, but i like speed-read through your stuff so far, and you sound so fun?? akdljhfkajshfdsj like genuinely. anyway! so, i’d like to ask to participate? i’m a young adult, female and NSFW are fine if you have any ideas ^^

(this is a warning that this might end up really long ;-;)

Gender: female

Pronouns: she/her

Male or female character: straight, so preferably male, but this is for fun, so if you think a female would fit better, go ahead! i really don't mind ^^

Which fandom: BSD

Personality: i guess i should start with the generic MBTI? i’m either an INTP or INFP, depending on my mood – i’ve also been mistaken for an extrovert plenty of times, so there’s that ;w;

when i’m meeting new people, i’m pretty friendly, and i make friends with mANY different types of people. i’m perfectly fine with the idea of talking with strangers on a day to day basis, so i’m fairly confident in that regard. i do get tired easily, tho, in a social settling.

i don’t tend to talk more when i make friends with someone? i make more jokes, sure, and i speak a little more freely, but, in general, i think i talk less when i’m around my friends. not because i feel like i can’t express my thoughts; i just prefer to listen, rather than talk. not to say we don’t have chaotic moments together, i’m just. yeah, a listener XD

i’ve been told that i’m very easy to open up to. i try my best to make whoever it is i’m talking to, comfortable and heard – and i do pride myself on being a nonjudgemental person – so it makes sense.

i’m pretty cheerful! i don’t get upset very easily, and i’m very easy-going. like, i don’t think i’v ever had a fight with friends. i’m very much the mediator, if i’m even involved in any drama (VERY rare). although, i’m a bit more subdued around my family, i’m also the same around them.

i’m VERY empathetic, but i don’t come across as that, because i’m not a very emotional person (usually a stereotype of empathetic people). i feel a lot, but i regulate them well and don’t express much. i worry a lot about other people, probably a little too much, actually, and, in that, i tend to ignore my own problems.

to deal with the stress, i take care of other people? like, i’ll cook dinner, send messages, send care packages, that sort of thing? my love language is CLEARLY acts of service and/or gift giving. i just prefer doing things for people, rather than people having do things for me; i feel very awkward about it (not that i don’t appreciate it!! i just don’t know what to do TwT). i’d love for physical affection to be one of my love languages, tho!! i’m working on it (•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑

i get stressed really easily, and i don’t cope with it very well. i don’t take it out on others, i just turn inwards, if that makes sense. i hate vulnerability, in myself, so i simply pretend like i’m perfectly fine (not to sound edgy lmao). i believe it, for the most part, tho i am trying to get better at being more open. i am a bit of an anxious person, i admit, and me and my friends joke about it, as all friends do ;w;

i’m creative and analytical! love making things, and love analysing media. tho, i am a bit critical of both my own and others work. i just have high standards, man. i am a bit of a thinker, as in, i contemplate the deep stuff, and i like discussing things like that, in moderate amounts ;w;

i like to think i have a good sense of humour XD i'm witty, and i make my friends laugh a lot, and catch acquaintances off-guard.

i’m also quite brave?? that sounds really weird to say, but i am. maybe it’s a bit of stupidity as well, but if someone needs help, i just? help them? like, even if that requires me scaling up scaling up a dodgy cliff or something.

i feel a bit dull as a person, actually, because i spend a lot of my energy trying to reflect the best of someone back at them, so i feel like i haven’t fully developed, if that makes sense. that’s something i’m working on, too hehe

anyway! now that i’ve spilled my guts in this, i will now apologise for it being so long!!

Any hobbies: creative writing, reading (both fiction and non-fiction), producing (music) and singing (choir heck y e a h – tho on a seriously note, i do really enjoy singing, and i’ve been told by people that i have a very sweet voice (i hold that very close to my heart akjldhfkjashdf)), learning languages (right now trying to increase my Japanese vocab and introducing myself to Korean :D), trying to learn how to dance because i SUCK, cooking (best compliment is being told i’m a great cook), i dabble in art a little, since i’ve always been drawn to art, i love a good day trip outside, anything from hiking to the beach!

Appearance: i’m 175cm and have a pretty slim build. tho, i’m getting back into exercising (after injuring myself and not being able to continue my sport :,) and now i’m too far behind in skill to do it ;-;) because i’ve lost a bit of muscle. i’m half-Japanese, half-Caucasian, so typical dark brown hair (pretty long, my dude), tho my eyes are quite a light brown (i frickin love my eyes you actually don’t understand). my style has gotten progressively more feminine as i get older, and i’m liking it. generally, either i have an art kid style or why are you wearing that that looks horrible. or some light dresses!

Aesthetic: soft or tough, no in between

Any problems you struggle with, whether it be mental or physical: probably have ADHD, but i don’t have the means to get it diagnosed ^^;

i literally wrote so much, and i know you said that the more the better, but!! adfjjsdhf if you did get to the end, thank you so much ;w; i hope you're having or had an amazing day!!

Aaaa hihi!! You seem so cool :3 It took me a while to find someone good to match you with and I was completely forgetting sigma existed .... I feel like you guys are made for eachother

Sigma

Your guy's first meeting was surprisingly not that awkward

At least for Sigma's standards

You guys struck up a conversation pretty easily, and he seemed really chill, but was incredibly anxious on the inside

He was so insecure

"oh my god what if she thinks I'm weird?? Did I say something wrong?? She's so pretty what do I do oh my god help" - His thoughts when you two first met

Although as you two continued talking, he definitely started to warm up a lot more

He was baffled at how kind you were compared to his first impression of you (terrified and anxious)

(He thought you were super intimidating because of how pretty you were and he got all flustered and froze up)

That was probably the most comfortable he's felt while talking to someone before though

Like he genuinely adores you

You're his safe space :3

Loves how cheerful you are, it always makes him feel less stressed out

Sometimes asks you to help mediate fights in the casino

When you start taking care of him and helping him he's so grateful

And confused

Why are you doing this for him? He doesn't deserve it

(he does)

Once he catches on though, he 100% tries to help you too

I mean, he was already trying to do that from the start, but now he's extra worried about you

I feel like you guys would be really similar with coping so when he feels stressed he likes to do stuff for you and when you're stressed you do stuff for him and usually when one of you is stressed the other is too so you guys kind of end up taking care of eachother

This relationship would definitely a good learning experience<3

Both of you struggle with vulnerability, just in different ways

He tries to help you to open up more, and he begins to feel more comfortable doing so as well

He likes your analytical side because it helps him think more rationally rather than a spur of the moment anxious decision he made last minute

Always goes to you for advice, but feels guilty in doing so because he feels like he's being a bother and he should be more independent :(

He's amazed and so touched at how far you'll go to help others

That's probably one of his favorite things about you :3

Although he loves everything about you

He listens to your music all the time, and asks if he can listen to some unreleased stuff because it makes him feel special

Like it was made just for him <333

HE WOULD ABSOLUTELY LOVE IT IF YOU EVER SANG HIM TO SLEEP

He would probably cry tbh

Happy tears

Loves your voice so much, it immediately calms him down whenever he's having an anxiety attack or is just feeling down or insecure

Definitely tries to learn Korean with you

I feel like he'd know Greek, so if you were ever open to the idea he would LOVE to teach you :3

You guys both suck at dancing it's okay

He thinks dancing is really romantic (depending on the type of dance) but is also super embarrassed to actually try to learn how to dance

His insecurities get the best of him

But if you ever asked, he would try to learn for you <3333 (/with you)

NSFW BELOW THE CUT

He's either a needy sub or a soft dom

When he doms he's so so so soft

Loves telling you everything he loves about you and how amazing you are

When he subs.... He's still so so so soft

Physically and emotionally

His hair feels like cotton candy

It's almost a guarantee that he will start to cry

LOVES being praised by you

But is too shy to ask :(

He feels like he doesn't deserve it

Be careful if you praise him too much though he might have a breakdown

He's loud, but tries to be quieter so he can hear your noises better <3

Because like I said, he adores your voice

Either way, dom or sub, he just wants to make you feel good and loved <333

A/N

TYSM FOR THE COMPLIMENT<3333 I kept coming back to your ask just to look at it because it made me so happy. Also you seem sosososo cool and amazing??? I know I said this at the beginning of the post but it's true :3 Also it's completely fine that it was long!! I loveloved reading about you!!! ໒꒰ྀི >ヮ<꒱ྀི১ Have a wonderful day/night anon, and I would love to hear any feedback or constructive criticism from you if you have any :3

#bsd x reader #bsd x you #bungou stray dogs #matchup event #bsd #bsd sigma #sigma x reader #sigma x you #bsd sigma x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader

[eurovision-del]

So how about those results! It was a real rollercoaster watching the show tonight!

Top 5

Sweden: I have always said that Tattoo is a good song, and Loreen a great artist, and I still feel that way. She deserves to have her win be celebrated. Sweden also did come second in the televote, although a fair margin behind Finland – that’s a better result than in 2015 where they came third in televote and won thanks to the jury, and no one questions Måns Zelmerlöw’s victory. I struggle to unravel all my feelings about it from the fact that she’s a returning winner – it shouldn’t matter in theory, but I really believed that in the modern system nothing like that would happen. Personally I like how Eurovision introduces me to new artists I’d never hear otherwise, so unless it’s someone I really like with a great song, I generally don’t like it when artists return, and it feels even harsher when it’s a previous winner – however as others have rightly said, Eurovision is a competition, not a charity, there’s no requirement for it to be ‘fair’ in that way. I will say that it does seem to have jeopardised her reputation, going from one of, if not the most beloved Eurovision winner, to the person who was pushed by the jury and robbed the much preferred televote favourite. However, I’m curious how this result will look in hindsight after a few years once everything has settled down.

Finland: I’m so proud of him for securing Finland’s second best result. After the televote I really believed he might have done enough? 376 was the same score Salvador Sobral got back in 2017, and is the second highest televote score ever after Kalush Orchestra’s last year. Loreen’s 340 from the Jury, while still very high, is less than both Måns and Salvador both got. Unfortunately it was not to be. I loved every second of Käärijä’s performance, I couldn’t have asked for anything more. I hope his career flourishes after this – he may not have won Eurovision but he’ll always be one of the most iconic entries we’ve ever had.

Israel: Honestly, I’m not happy about this! I don’t enjoy the song, and while I could respect some technical aspects of Noa’s performance it did nothing for me. And yet this came third – second in juries yet actually scoring even more points in the televote! Choices. After a couple of years of feeling satisfied with the top 5, or at least that it was justified, my luck definitely ran out this year.

Italy: Also surprised me a little, although Marco is a fantastic performer. I do wonder if between Marco and Loreen other artists will be encouraged to return. I think he also got the most equal points distribution between Televote and Juries, which I wouldn’t have expected, but Due Vite clearly resonated with a lot of people, and I have to admit even I was feeling it too. Even if it’s a little higher than I’d have put it, this feels a reasonable result.

Norway: Yeah, based on fan reaction it seemed reasonable to expect her to come top five, although the discrepancy between her televote and jury was huge! I was happy to see her reaction after getting so much love from the public though. Again, not my favourite song, but I’m ok with this result.

Other Countries

United Kingdom: Ah, something so comfortingly familiar about the bottom of the scoreboard… For real I was a little disappointed by this, but the performance, especially the vocals, just weren’t strong enough. I really, desperately hope that despite this the renewed interest in Eurovision in this country isn’t replaced by a backlash in response to this result – we won’t always do well, that doesn’t mean we should stop trying.

Germany: Another huge disappointment – after years of what I felt were deserved bottom five placements, Germany finally send something I love, something that seems to have some fan buzz… and still get last place. I loved every second of Lord of the Lost’s performance, it was one of those songs that sounds even better live. I really hope Germany aren’t discouraged by this, and continue to send interesting, unique acts instead of retreating to bland, ‘radio-friendly’ pop.

Spain: Sometimes you take risks, sometimes they don’t pay off. This came dead last in the televote! I think it’s a real shame, although I can understand how the song could be alienating to people. I’m so grateful to the juries for appreciating it, putting it in their top 10, which is exactly what that vocal performance deserved as far as I’m concerned. Again, I don’t want any country to be discouraged from taking a risk and sending something out of the box, even if it doesn’t pay off, it will still find it’s fans outside the contest.

Austria: This came bottom five in the televote! (Technically fourth from bottom, tied with Portugal and Serbia). Sometimes It’s easy to get caught up in the fan bubble – I don’t mind at all, the surprise is all part of the fun, if the fans got it right all the time the show would be boring. However, I have to say I’m so grateful to the juries for seeing this one through – mid-table was actually about what I was expecting, although I was expecting it to get a reasonable televote and a lower jury. I wonder if this is the impact of running order – aside from Poland the first few songs all scored very poorly in the televote. I’m very curious to see what sort of result it got in the semi-final – even though competing against different songs is a factor, if the difference in votes is huge I’ll feel running order definitely played a part. However, there’s every chance that I was wrong about how much broad appeal this had in general.

Belgium: I think I need to make a collection of songs that I did not care for when they won their national final, then ranked mid in my rankings, and ended up rooting for them all the way in the competition – Denmark and Portugal 2021 would both also be examples. I was actually ecstatic to see Belgium pick up some douze points from the juries, and to see him end up in the top 10 overall. What a journey this entry has been on, the narrative of Gustaph going from backing singer to lead, the underdog beating out fan faves in the national final and get dismissed, only to win everyone over throughout pre-party season and end up where he did on the night. I’m so sorry Gustaph that I ever doubted you – you and your feel-good throwback bop have all my love.

Other Thoughts

It was nice that there were no nil points, not even from just jury or televote – everyone got something. In fact, everyone got double digits! Even so, no redemption for the entire big five, in fact they mostly did worse than I and many others within the fandom predicted. I think we need to scrap the pre-qualification – I actually think it does us no favours not having to qualify. Everyone else who made the final this year proved they had some level of televote appeal – the big five then get slotted in around those entries in the final. Competing in the semi-finals is still competing in Eurovision – we’re never gonna get another Germany 1996 again. It’s time we scrapped this outdated way of doing things.  

Even if the juries were ultimately responsible for deciding the winner, I still don’t want to do away with them. Juries seem less susceptible to running order, they support songs that are technically brilliant but might not resonate with viewers like Spain this year, even if I don’t agree with all the decisions they make. Even if I’m not too keen on the overall top 10 this year, I prefer having Australia in the top 10 to having Poland (who were top 10 with the televote). It’s the same way I feel every year – the system isn’t perfect, and the way juries are set up could do with an overhaul, increased numbers, more varied members etc. – but as far as I’m concerned it’s still better than televote only.

I did feel the show could have done with more Ukraine – the mix of Ukraine vs UK content in the semis was a little skewed to the UK but I could overlook it, however I felt really uncomfortable seeing Sam Ryder get the interval act position that the previous winner usually gets, while Kalush Orchestra were left as an opener. Honestly? Sam shouldn’t have been there at all, or at least not as anything more than a small guest appearance. It was right that a Ukrainian act opened, but they should also have had the main interval act spot too. The host balance also was wrong, especially once Graham joined in too. I think Alesha Dixon should have been replaced by another Ukrainian host to join Julia Sanina, I thought Hannah Waddingham did a great job so wouldn’t want to replace her, but there should have been an equal number of Ukranian and UK hosts at least in the final – and having two to one Ukrainian to UK hosts in the semis would have made sense – Ukraine did win last year after all.

The televote seems to have well and truly given up on rock, with both Germany and Australia doing very poorly in it, Australia only making the top 10 thanks to juries (another reason I’m glad for juries despite everything!) Maybe all the rock votes went to Finland instead – I have to admit that’s what I did. I really hope this doesn’t last, I love rock and Eurovision, and both Måneskin and Blind Channel proved it can do well. I don’t want 2021 to have been a fluke.

Closing Thoughts

I’m feeling mixed about these results honestly, some of my faves like Germany and Serbia did poorly, but Finland coming second is still a fantastic result. While I do think every winner should be respected and congratulated, personally I can’t say I feel too great about Sweden winning right now. I like having the jury at Eurovision for adding a different viewpoint and saving songs like Spain (or Albania 2018) from the bottom of the scoreboard, but I also much prefer when the televote favourite wins overall. I can accept a winner I dislike if it’s the public opinion, it’s harder to accept when it’s just juries. Having Eurovision 2024 in Sweden 50 years after ABBAs win is neat I guess. At the end of the day, regardless of the results, we got to experience 37 new songs, and hundreds more in the pre-selections, discovering and falling in love with so many new artists – and that’s what I really love about Eurovision.

#eurovison #esc2023 #moral of the story: don't ever hope that the big 5 will escape the bottom 5 #the best thing to happen now would be if Ireland wakes up now Sweden's matched their win record #and actually completely reworks their approach to Eurovision #I don't think it's very likely though #Alright it is very late and I'm finally calming down from the emotions of the night #I'm off to bed!

[spooky-chainsaw-princess]

I swear 🥲 we may be kinda close tho? I’m in EST~

And it’s a lot of fun! And I’d love to have you join in 😍 I don’t like to do it with someone until we at least have a rapport going, and you’ve definitely satisfied that requirement 🥰 💕 I have 4 more days of guaranteed denial, but maybe a certain spooky princess could convince me to extend that on her terms 😳🤭

They’re honestly so good, my mind is running through scenarios of me wearing that around my house, cleaning my room, playing video games with friends while they have no idea what my wardrobe is 😵‍💫🤤 fuck… ok that settles it, I’ll buy a set if you buy one 😵‍💫😵‍💫

I always want more kisses, Princess 😍😍 I’m such a slut for kisses. Especially if you’re wearing lipstick and you mark me all over until there’s barely an inch of skin unmarked 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

-🌀

Ok we’re definitely far away from each other’s 🥹🥹🥹🥹

And I completely understand, I think it’s so important to get to know the other person before playing together. Usually, I don’t play with others outside of a romantic relationship. Just the way I’m built🤷‍♀️

I would give me left kidney to see you clean in something like that 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

Hearing you game with your friends while dressed like a little horny bunny sounds incredibly hot😍

Hmmmm send me a link and I’ll consider it🤭

Ugh, the idea of marking someone with my lipstick is so amazing. Just show them who’s the one owning them… love that.

#666.? #🌀

[edosianorchids901]

It's a Set-Up

@flashfictionfridayofficial prompt - "set the stage"

The first few late night “oh no, I require assistance” calls had seemed normal enough. Crowley dutifully hopped in the Bentley, drove to the shop, and sorted out Aziraphale’s problems. A missing book. Running out of sugar mid-baking. A mishap involving an exploding tea kettle.

The last one had made Crowley suspicious. But the calls just kept coming after that.

An unprecedented desire to organize the shop. A desperate need to clear out some wine and make room for new drinks. Someone to help with a translation, Aziraphale knew the language well enough but would Crowley mind double checking?

No call had come in tonight, though, and Crowley gratefully settled in for a solid night’s sleep. Between lunches, drives in the countryside, and Aziraphale’s mysterious need for midnight aid, Crowley hadn’t gotten much time to himself lately.

He laid down and closed his eyes, savoring the quiet. And then his mobile rang.

Snarling, he rolled over and snatched it. “Wot?”

“Ah, hello! So sorry to trouble you, dear boy.”

Crowley sighed and rubbed his brow, already getting out of bed. “No trouble, angel. What’s up?”

“Oh, it’s so silly, but I think there’s rats in the shop. They usually behave, you know I give them a snack or two out back, but I’m hearing some odd sounds. And, well, you have such a way with the little souls…”

“Yeah, okay. I’m on my way.” Crowley hung up, grinding his teeth. This was ridiculous. What was going on?

The Bentley careened from Mayfair to Soho in a handful of minutes and screeched to a halt outside the bookshop. Crowley hopped out, still tense, and stormed inside.

“Angel?” he called.

“Oh!” Aziraphale rushed out of the kitchenette, hands flailing wildly. “Lord, you arrived rather faster than I expected. I’m not quite ready…”

“Enough. Will you just tell me what’s going on?” Crowley crossed his arms, frowning. “Ready for what?”

“Well…” Aziraphale swallowed hard. “I wanted to ask you something.”

Seriously? “Is this why you’ve been dragging me over here every night? So you could ask me something?”

“No!” And then Aziraphale winced, twisting his hands together. “Well, sort of. I-I-I was setting the stage.”

Crowley crossed the shop, took Aziraphale’s arm, and led him to the sofa. “Setting the stage for what? You know you could just ask me anything, yeah?”

“Oh, I know, but…” Aziraphale gave a nervous laugh. “Well, I was afraid you’d say no. And you’ve always been so eager to rush to my rescue, always so kind to me…”

“Demons aren’t kind,” Crowley grumbled.

“Ah, yes. Which is why you’ve come over each time I called you.” The hazel eyes sparkled with amusement, and Aziraphale smiled. He inched closer on the sofa. “Anyway, I thought I’d start tonight with…”

He snapped his fingers. Wine—really good wine—materialized on the coffee table, along with Crowley’s favorite shortbread. “You’re softening me up, Aziraphale?”

“Setting the stage! It’s only proper to have such things.” Aziraphale wiggled his fingers, then inexpertly produced a rose from behind Crowley’s ear. “Oooohwoosh! Will you move in with me?”

“Will… Will I…” Crowley gaped at him. This was definitely not how he’d expected tonight to go. “You thought that calling me over to deal with rats was a good way to ‘set the stage’? Really?”

“Well, yes! You like rats, and shortbread, and wine. And…” Aziraphale hesitated, lip trembling as he searched Crowley’s face. “And you like me? I hope?”

Any irritation vanished in a heartbeat. Crowley cupped his angel’s cheek, smiling. “You’re absolutely ridiculous, and yes. I like you. I love you.”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened, his whole face brightening. He lunged to kiss Crowley, the motion clumsy and unpracticed.

Crowley kissed him back, equally unpracticed. When they drew apart, Aziraphale wiggled with delight. “Oh, I love you too. But you didn’t answer my question.”

Amused, Crowley pulled off his sunglasses so Aziraphale could see that he was rolling his eyes. “Yep. I’d better. Since you need me to rescue you every night, only makes sense that I just stay here.”

And then he was being kissed again. Still clumsily, but sweetly, and he pulled Aziraphale closer. Alone time might be overrated, and he could get plenty of quiet by keeping Aziraphale’s mouth occupied in this new, fantastic way.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale