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#and then i write it out!! 😭
astearisms · 8 months
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fionna and cake drawings before and after watching the episodes so far. it’s nostalgic and somehow cathartic and poignant and relatable and—it just started
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panevanbuckley · 4 months
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soulmate au where your soulmate's thoughts appear on your skin except your soulmate has adhd and your body becomes a living canvas of nonsensical, never-ending, constantly entertaining trails of thought
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monicahar · 11 months
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“thanks for the flowers!”
“what flowers?”
in which they find out you receive a gift from someone that isn't them.
characters; wanderer, alhaitham, kaveh
; i keep seeing that damn tiktok 😐 gender neutral reader, fluff, crack,
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WANDERER eyes you skeptically, suspicion being evident on his pale features as he scans your expression up and down. has he already caught on to your little prank?
“first of all, who in their right mind would court you? and with some sappy flowers as well?”
you return his unamused gaze, finding him very unfunny.
“you do know that you're dating me, right?”
“unfortunately.” he clicks his tongue, further leaning towards your face, brows still furrowed as if he's trying to decipher something, gazing at you with an unreadable expression that has your resolve crumbling. “is this another one of your antics to get a rise out of me? if so, it's not working.”
his lips break out into a grin upon watching your eyes widen. but your shock doesn't last long—him immediately seeing through your silly scheme isn't an unexpected outcome, funnily enough.
“you're too serious sometimes.” you pout at him whilst he scoffs, “just humor me. what would you actually do if i managed to receive flowers from another?”
“it's simple—you can't.” comes his swift and confident reply, offending you as you stare at him incredulously, weighing the implication of his words.
“you speak of me like i'm the most unattractive person in teyvat—what do you mean i can't?”
“you're an idiot. would i have really chosen you if you were unattractive in any way?” he crosses his arms before facing you completely, indigo hues staring directly into yours.
“i already eliminated all those who dare steal you from me.”
...?
you freeze on the spot, processing what you've just heard.
“...excuse me?”
“—just kidding. i'm no longer that type of person, hah.” he huffs out a derisive laugh, yet his humorous farce does not meet his eyes.
not finding any comfort in his supposed testament of it only being a joke, you opt to stare at him confusingly in return. weirdo.
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ALHAITHAM, much like the wanderer, catches on to the prank immediately. whether it's intuition, scarily precise deduction or just the way you generally act weird when it comes to lying to his face—he still figured you out in the end like it's nothing.
but unlike the wanderer, he decides to humor you and play along. what a good boyfriend.
“...you mean you didn't give me the flowers?” you flutter your lashes at him, a horrible and terribly inefficient way to convince him that the whole thing with the flowers is actually real. alhaitham suddenly has the rare urge to laugh. since when did you act like this?
alhaitham shifts in his seat. “no. who do you think it's from?”
“hm.” you hum thoughtfully, bringing a finger to your chin as if in deep thought. the scribe briefly wonders how far you're willing to take this joke. but he digresses—the chances of him actually getting mad at you are akin to that of kaveh finally shutting up—
“maybe kaveh? he grew an interest in flowers recently, so i've heard. maybe he sent some as like a sign of friendship or something along those lines...there's no way it means something else, riiiiiight?”
alhaitham pauses his train of thought.
speak of the devil.
momentarily doubting his conclusion that you're just pulling a prank, he quietly glowers at you as if silently telling you to take back your words.
“what about him?”
you immediately cower upon the drop in his tone—raising your arms in defense when alhaitham moves to stalk closer to you. “i was joking! i didn't get any flowers from anyone and last time i conversed with kaveh was when i—”
“let's go.” he grabs the back of your collar and drags you along, a newfound heavy weight in his footsteps as an indescribable and uncomfortable feeling creeps up on his neck.
“i really was just joking, 'haitham! i was bored and i wanted to annoy you for a bit! i swear!”
even if it wasn't true, the thought of kaveh gifting you flowers without his knowledge—
alhaitham's expression subconsciously turns sour. quite unlucky that you couldn't witness the extremely scarce sight of jealousy on your boyfriend as you are comically dragged against your will behind him.
“the nearest flower shop is just around the corner. tell me if anything piques your interest.” he says in way that has no room for argument. he is getting you flowers now.
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KAVEH falls for it, obviously. not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed outside his designated profession, you see.
“i don't remember buying any flowers...” he mutters to himself, the gears in his head turning. it's almost laughable when he finally pieces your words together, a look of disbelief painfully present on his faxe but by some miracle, you resisted the urge to burst out in giggles right then and there. “wait...i didn't send any!”
“is that so...then who would send me flowers other than you?” you edge him on, instigating at its finest, much poking a sleeping bear with a stick while you circle it tauntingly.
an actual enraged kaveh is something you've never seen before, just some tantrums and endless ranting about some clients and his roommate. you've always wanted to see it—just not directed at you, hopefully.
“that's...ah, people already know you're dating me though, so it can't be someone hitting on you. maybe it's just from a relative or—”
“really?” you tilt your head, feigning a bit of confusion. “then i suppose i should keep these red roses then. i'll ask tighnari how to keep them alive, i guess.”
“w-wait, wait—could you repeat that?”
“hm?” you face him, “i'll ask tighnari?”
“no, the one before that.”
“...i'll keep the red roses?” you had to hold yourself back from grinning ear to ear when his eyes widen.
it's not unexpected that someone versed in the beauty of art would recognize one of the most common flower's meaning. quite the handy trivia.
he immediately stands up, grabbing your hand in tow as you yelp in surprise at his abruptness.
“kaveh?!”
“those flowers mean love! like, actual romantic love! i'll burn it for you right now! where'd you put it!?” the intensity of his ruby gaze sends shudders down your spine.
“it's not like i reciprocate it—”
“still, no one other than me should be sending those...!” kaveh tightens his grip on your hands, “i don't like the idea of someone hitting on you. i can't let anyone attempt to take you away from me...”
you blink. “kaveh...”
“—that's why show it to me now! or i'll bite you!”
“okay, okay! jeez...”
now...how are you going to break the news to him that it was actually yellow roses, and most definitely not from an admirer?
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the biggest hater of my work is myself. wtf am i writing bruh ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ
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Class clown
class clown gyu who for some reason has it out for nerd!reader and finally she gets sick of it and puts him in his place. warnings: dom!reader, sub!gyu, handjob, blowjob, dirty talk, pathetic gyu as always
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"What is your problem?" You snap at Beomgyu, the class clown and the bane of your existence. He is always on your case, making fun of you in front of everyone. Today you made a mistake answering the proferssor's question and he immediatley jumped on it, humiliating you in front of the entire class. "Why do you have to mess with me?"
"Because you're fun to mess them." He answers simply, a huge infuriating grin on his face. You look really funny when you're angry."
You don't know what came over you, you're not usually a violent person but seeing his stupid cocky face makes you lose it and you shove him against the wall, slamming your hands on either side of his head to trap him in. "Do I look funny now?
But to your chagrin, he keeps grinning, not phased one bit. "Kinda."
You're so frustrated you could cry. There was nothing you have ever thought of or done that got him to leave you alone. He has been doing this to you for years, even back when you were at school. In fact you had been so excited to go to uni just to escape him, only to see his stupid face at your first lecture and your entire dream of escape came crashing down.
"What? The smart mouth finally has got nothing to say?" He goads when you stay quiet too long for his liking.
Your vision turns red. He makes you so frustrated and pent up, you would do anything to shut him up. Maybe that's why you resorted to doing something crazy.
Grabbing his face, you push your lips against his, intending to strong-arm him into silence. After all if his lips are busy, he can't mouth off anymore.
You don't know how you expected him to react to that--freeze in shock? Push you off? Call you crazy? You don't know but you certainly didn't expect him to almost immediately start kissing you back. It threw you off so hard you actually pull away from the kiss yourself.
But as soon as you pull back, he's running his mouth again. "Damn, nerd, looks like your mouth is good for somethjng other than eating the professor's ass."
"You're so fucking.. ugh!" You groan, shutting him up again. But this time you don't just use your mouth, instead you raise his shirt up, feeling up his body to his nipples and grabbing them between your thumbs and index fingers and pulling on them a bit roughly, making him gasp and break away from the kiss with a wet smack.
"Oh god," He groans, eyes fluttering as you roll his nipples between your fingers.
"You like that, brat?" You spit, happy to finally be getting the upper hand for the first time in your years of being tormented by Beomgyu.
"Fuck yeah." He groans and tries to reach out to touch your own tits.
"Don't fucking touch me, brat." You hiss at him, "If you touch me, I stop."
"You're being such a killjoy." He protests but it's hard for him to keep a steady voice when your fingers are playing with his clearly sensitive nipples like that, and even more so when one of your hands slips into his loose pants to palm his already very hard cock.
"You look like you're enjoying it enough." You mutter, twisting your hand up to the head of his cock, making him moan out.
"Fucking hell...Are you gonna fuck me?" He asks bluntly.
"Do you want me to fuck you, Gyu?" You ask, and any hesitency over the unfamiliar nickname vanishes as he shudders under your touch.
"If you're going to be handling my cock like that then I damn well expect to get a fuck out of it." He replies, still insolent despite his whimpering and frankly slutty moans.
"You're such a little bitch." You chastise, focusing your strokes on the head of his cock, aiming for maximum damage. "You think you deserve to get anywhere near my pussy after the shit you've pulled over me for years?"
He shrugs, trying to affect nonchalance but it's hard to but he's panting like a bitch for you. "Maybe if you get fucked good, you'd be a little less uptight.
Uptight! Just because you care about your future, that doesn't make you uptight. God, you hate him... but damn, does he looks fucking hot falling apart in your hands like that.
"And maybe if you were getting any attention on your cock apart from your own hand, you wouldn't be such an attention seeking slut." You jeer, getting down on your knees. "Now shut the fuck up or you won't get to cum at all."
"What--" He doesn't have time to formulate his question before you pull his pants down and wrap your mouth around his cock, sucking any retort right out of him.
"Oh, fuck, that's it." He arches his back, driving his cock further down your throat which you readily take, to his surprise.
"Fuck, where did you learn to suck dick like this?" He asks through his moans but you don't bother to answer him. You don't owe him an answer, you just want to shut the bitch up.
But Beomgyu is incapable of shutting up. "Have you been sucking dick on the down low? I didn't know the nerd is such a big slut. Thought you were a good girl."
You detach from his cock to retort, tearing a whine out of him which the idiot is too stupid to realize he is the cause of. "You're one to talk. Look how loudly you're moaning as soon as you get your dick wet. What? No one wants to fuck such a loudmouth?"
"Fuck you." He mutters, and you laugh. "You wish, baby." You smirk, bobbing your head down his cock again, going ruthlessly fast and getting the brat to writhe under you.
You think that would be the end of it but Beomgyu could die and his mouth would still be running. "Seriously, who are you fucking? Taehyun? Soobin? Don't tell me it's that manwhore Yeonjun?"
You pull off his dick in frustration, using your hand to jerk him off roughly instead. "Why do you fucking care who I fuck?"
"I don't care." He huffs, arching his back to push his cock further into your grip. "I just know they can't be fucking you good if you're still so uptight all the time. If you want a good time, I could give you the time of your life."
You burst out laughing, obviously bruising the boy's ego in the process but you don't care. And you don't even bother hiding your incredulity. "You? Do you even see yourself? I'm barely even moving my hand and you're fucking it like a dog in heat. Your dick is drooling all down my arm. You look like you're a few pumps away from creaming yourself. I don't think you'd even make it one stroke inside my pussy before you pop like a virgin."
"No, I'm not." He denies, trying to keep his hips still, clearly fighting with himself. "I can fuck you so good you'll screaming my name."
"You can? You can take hot, tight pussy until I cum? You can have me clench around your needy cock without emptying your balls inside me?" You reach your other hand out to cup his balls, massaging then gently between your fingers, making him suck in a shuddering breath. "You can hold back your hot cum until I'm ready to milk your cock? You won't just break and spurt your cum inside me as soon as you put it in?"
"Fuck, fuck, slow down." He gasps, trying to squirm away from your touch but you hold him tighter, jerking him off steadily.
"Why? Are you going to cum just from my hands? That's disappointing. I thought you wanted to give me the fuck of my life?" You cock your head to side, staring up at him condescendingly, making him shudder.
"Baby, please, slow down?"
"Baby?" You laugh. "Now I'm baby?"
"I can't take much more." He was jerking uncontrollably in your grip but you never let go, taking the hand on his balls off to press it against his lower tummy to hold him in place as you continue jerking off his now very red and slippery cock.
"Are you gonna cum?" You ask again and he nods, biting onto his lip harshly. "Yes, can I?"
You have to say you were taken aback at him suddenly asking for your permission to cum. You would have thought the brat would just do it with no warning. "Aw, baby is asking for permission to cum? If I knew it was this easy to get you to behave, I would have... well, actually I still wouldn't have touched you any sooner. But it's good to know how pathetic you really are."
"Fuck you." He repeats, voice strained in his effort to still hold back.
"You want me to say you can cum?" You tease, twisting your hand over the length of his cock slowly.
He nods. "Yes. Need it. Need it."
"Are you going to be good to me from now on?" You ask and he shakes his head. "You're too fun to tease."
"You are too." You counter, slowing your hand down, making him thrust his hips to try to get more of your touch so you smack his thigh in punishment. "Down, boy!"
"Baby, please!" He begs so sweetly, pining you with his pretty, brown eyes, his dick drooling in your grip.
"Are you going to be good from now on?" You tighten your grip around him as you deliberately move your hand up the entire length of his cock, feeling his precum dripping down your arm.
"Yes, yes, I'll be good. I'll be so good." He babbles, and you know he is lying his ass off, just wanting to say whatever would get you to let him cum, but even that makes you feel so fucking hot. To have that effect on your tormentor after all these years is a fucking head rush.
"God, you're a mess." You mutter, quickening your pace over his cock, making Beomgyu panic. "Wait, wait, can I cum? Can I cum?"
It's a little precious how much he panics over cumming without your explicit permission, so much so you decide to just give it to him, wanting to see the brat completely lose it in your grip.
"You can cum, brat." As soon as you utter the words--as if he was really waiting for them--he explodes, spurting rope after rope of cum down your arm and onto your chest.
"Thank you. Thank you, baby." He cries, emptying himself for you until he can no longer hold himself up anymore and collapses to the ground by your side.
But to your surprise and mild horror, Beomgyu takes a minute to calm himself down before he grabs his own cock and strokes himself to full hardness again, bearing through the pain of overstimulation for a reason that only becomes apparent to you after you ask, "What the hell are you doing, Beomgyu?"
"I promised I can fuck you good, didn't I?"
He really is insane.
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mobius-m-mobius · 6 months
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#just a wizard gentleman and his butler 🪄🎩
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effemar · 29 days
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AND IF THAT'S ALL THAT I'M GONNA BE / WON'T YOU BREAK THE CHAIN WITH ME?
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mediumgayitalian · 1 month
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“Come here, you dweeb. Let me fix it.”
Will pouts, dragging his feet over and slumping half on top of him. Nico allows it with a smile and a roll of his eyes, pinching Will’s shoulder. He doesn’t react except for a wounded noise, muffled in Nico’s lap, so the situation is evidently quite dire.
“It’s just hair, Will.”
“But I worked on it!” He shifts around until he’s got his head in Nico’s lap, face turned towards him, body curled up on the grass around him. Nico brushes his tangled bangs off his forehead, meeting his big sad eyes. “I spent forty minutes with a stupid brush! And yet!”
“And yet,” Nico agrees, unable to appropriately school is face into one of somber understanding. Will scowls at him for his lack of proper sympathy, a little bit of genuine hurt in his eyes, so Nico leans down and kisses right between his brows in apology. He seems mollified, if only slightly, or at least he leans into Nico’s touch and stops mumbling quite so much.
“‘S’not fair.”
“Mhm.“
“Your hair listens to your instructions.”
“Yep.”
“Even Cecil’s hair listens to him, and no one listens to Cecil.”
Nico purses his lips thoughtfully. “I think Austin listens to Cecil.”
“Yes, I know. It’s an ongoing issue. I’m trying to train him out of it.”
“And how’s that going?” Nico murmurs, curling a strand of golden blond hair around his finger.
“Oh, well, I’m doing my best, so of course it’s going horribly.”
Nico snorts. He resists the urge to hold his palms to Will’s cheeks and kiss every single freckle at light speed, because he will screech something about how Nico is one-upping him in the romance department or something stupid like that. Instead he settles for looking at his dumb dramatic boyfriend’s face and marvelling over the fact that the cutest boy in the entire world, and Nico is being totally objective, hunts around camp until he finds whatever tree Nico is hiding under and curls up into a ball around him and trusts Nico to hold him while he complains about stupid things that genuinely hurt his feelings a little. It’s nice. So many people at camp are still so rigid around him, like he’s collecting information for their judgement day or something. Will prefers to exercise his lesser-known Apollonian talent of being a bigger drama queen than the god himself.
“Stay still,” Nico says softly, moving Will around so he’s laying perpendicular to Nico, now, head centered in his lap and staring up at the sky. Will sighs and squirms a little and turns his head to press a kiss to Nico’s knee, scrunching up his face and releasing it, and then settles in the position.
Humming something soft that exists on the fringes of his foggy memories, he sinks his hands into Will’s hair.
“It’s not that bad,” he promises, moving slowly and pausing whenever he comes across a knot.
Will harrumphs.
“I mean it, Marilyn Monroe. You can tone down the histrionics.”
“I used gel.”
Nico flicks a dried clump of it onto Will’s forehead, amused. “I can see that.”
“I followed every single one of Mitchell’s instructions!”
“I bet.”
“And yet!”
“And, yet.”
Nico has a sneaking suspicion that someone made a comment about Will’s hair, in the last few weeks. He can never confirm it and Will has been shifty about it every time he asks, but Nico has noticed the uptick in hoods and hats the past month and his little flinches every time Nico reaches up and tugs on it. Despite being oddly confident about the oddest things — why he is so proud of being able to fit his fist in his mouth, Nico will never know — Will is very sensitive to how people think of him. He needs to know he’s liked, and when people don’t like him, he gets…desperate, pleasing. The opposite of Nico, who becomes worse in an attempt to push them away on his own terms.
Nico leans down and presses a long, lingering kiss to his forehead.
“I like your hair, you know.”
“It’s a stupid mess.”
He smooths down a handful of it, pressing it over Will’s eye. He manages to keep a straight face for one, two, three seconds before he huffs a laugh, batting Nico’s hands away. Nico grins.
“I like the stupid mess.”
“Yeah, well, you like a lot of weird things.”
“Like you?” Nico suggests, pressing another kiss to the tip of his rounded nose.
“Shut up.”
Another strange thing about him, that Nico has to duck his head to hide his automatic smile: he gets embarrassed easily.
Nico never expected it of him, with all the dorky, medical-themed pickup lines and general shamelessness in his affection towards everybody on Earth, but especially Nico. When the poking, prodding attraction is turned on him, however, he shuts down like an overloaded Playstation. Nico can sometimes see the error messages playing behind its eyes. It’s hilarious.
“Will.” He pokes him in the cheek. “Hey.”
“What,” Will grumbles.
“I think you’re beautiful.”
Watching the slow spread of red from below the collar of his shirt to the roots of his hair is a delight. Nico watches in glee, wrestling Will’s hands away when he tries to slap them over his face.
“Shut up! Leave me alone! Go — flirt with somebody else!”
“You’d curse them to speak in rhymes for ten years,” Nico teases.
Will makes an agonised noise. “Who! Asked you! Shut up!”
“You’d sic Kayla on anyone who so much as winks at me, you jealous bitch.”
“I would not!”
“You would so. You rolled your eyes at everything Percy said for three weeks when you found out I used to crush on him —”
“I did not!”
“— and you didn’t even have the balls to ask me out, back then.”
“You are a — peddler of falsehoods! A prevaricator, a perjurer, and a fabulist!”
“And you sound like you swallowed a thesaurus,” Nico snickers. He catches the hand Will flails at him, pressing a kiss to the wrist, which only serves to fluster him more. He decides to take mercy when the kisses he trails down his arms result in one loud, long, tortured screech, pulling back and giving him some space.
Notably, he doesn’t move from Nico’s lap.
“I like it,” Nico admits, once Will has calmed down some. “I like that you’ve liked me for so long.”
Will peeks through the fingers he has covering his eyes. “It’s embarrassing.”
“Yes.” Nico squeezes his shoulders. “And endearing, which seems to be your sweet spot.” He presses a much softer kiss to the underside of Will’s ear, lingering there until he sighs, slumping under all the tension finally leaving his body. “I love you, Will. I love your clumsiness and your rambles and your nose and your freckles and your awkwardness and your jealousy and your hair and I love you, Will, all of you. Even the embarrassing weird parts.” He kisses him again. “Especially the weird parts.”
Will breathes slowly, carefully, evenly, face pressed to the inside of Nico’s thigh. His long eyelashes tickle his skin. Nico can feel the press of his Adam’s apple when he swallows, pulsing against his calf.
“I never thought you were a freak.”
Nico brushes his knuckles over his cheek. “I know.”
“I used to — talk about you. All the time. And your oxytocin levels.”
He smiles.
“I know.”
“Lee had a — chart.” Some of the flush rises back up in his cheeks. “A ‘Days Since We’ve Heard About Di Angelo’ chart.”
Nico bites his lip. Hard.
“The number never got higher than six.”
“…I am trying really, really hard, Will.”
Will sighs.
“You can laugh.”
Nico cracks up, trying desperately to muffle his giggles in his bitten fist. It doesn’t work very well, but the glare Will sends him is somewhat softened by the smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.
“Gods, you are — a mess.”
“Mhm.”
Nico cups the side of his face. Will turns, slightly, enough to press a kiss to the centre of his palm and then stay there, eyes closed, breathing against his sword-callused skin.
“I love you too, by the way. Obviously.”
“I know.”
“Don’t Han Solo me, you bastard.”
“Go ahead and try to stop me,” Nico challenges, grinning into the passionately indignant kiss Will presses to his lips, finally, letting Nico curl his hands in his hair.
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sskk-manifesto · 1 year
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spacedace · 1 month
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“Hey, I need to get married for bullshit Infinite Realms reasons, you two in?”
“Tt, of course.”
“Sure thing! Do we need to get going for that like, right now? Or later?”
“Eh, like in a couple of hours? The Observants are demanding some Royal Ball or something and they pulled out some stupid old laws out of their collective asses that if I’m not married by the time it starts they can assign me spouses of their choosing, can you fucking believe that shit?”
“Woah, what the hell? Can they even do that?”
“I was under the impression they were only permitted to observe.”
“Right? It’s total crap, but apparently there’s like this super old law on the books and they didn’t bring it up until now when there’s like no time left to try and force me to marry someone they pick.”
“They are training to gain influence over you?”
“Eh, more like they’re trying to get control of my Dad by way of me. But still fucked as hell.”
“So why do you need to marry both of us? Or do you just need to marry one of us and we should play rock paper scissor for it?”
“Technically I only need to marry one of you, but I don’t want them pulling out any loopholes or something. So, it’d be great if one of you could be my consort for my role as Queen of Mirrors, and one could be my consort for my role as Crown Princess. You two can figure who’s who on that all that, I’m good with whatever.”
“Oooh, can I be consort for the Mirror Court? I can annoy Kon more that way.”
“I am amenable to that. Grandfather will have a fit when he learns that I can cut his access to the Pits off at my discretion and there’s nothing he can do about it.”
“Awesome, okay are you two good for meeting up at like, three? We can pop over to my Lair and get everything sorted out there.”
“Works for me, my only class til this afternoon is at one and the professor already said we’re cutting out early because she has to go out of town this weekend.”
“Four would be more agreeable if possible, I have to take Titus to the vet for his checkup.”
“Okay let’s aim for four then. It’s just signing some paperwork, making some quick blood-slash-ectoplasm pacts and swearing a couple binding oaths… Should only take like five or ten minutes?”
“They’re not gonna make you have a huge royal wedding or anything?”
“Nah. Dad keeps things pretty chill so as long as the paperwork is all in order we’ll be good. Though once Auntie Dorathea finds out she’s absolutely gonna make us have one. She loves planning weddings. Swear its what she makes her hoard out of somehow.”
“So long as we have a say in some of the proceedings I have no issue with that eventuality.”
“Same, it sounds like it’d be a fun way to annoy the Observants even more.”
“Don’t for get all the weirdos trying to be my suitors and all that bullshit.”
“We have an accord then. We can reconvene at the usual place.”
“Awesome, you two are the best! I gotta jet and let everyone know and get the ball rolling on the paperwork stuff. See you guys at four!”
With that, Nomad - Stella Phantom, Crown Princess of the Infinite Realms, Queen of Mirrors, Core of the Speedforce and ghostly hero of the Titans and the Justice League - tore a rip in the fabric of space and time and darted out of the room the same way she came. Through the mind-bending tear in reality the eerie, eye-searing green of the Infinite Realms glowed in all its unsettling glory, Phantom Keep a glittering expanse of night sky made solid in the distance.
Jon waved at her cheerfully as Damian gave a nod of farewell before both silently turned their attention back to their respective tablets as the portal closed behind their friend and teammate and the glimpse of the Ghost Zone disappeared again. Completely unbothered by the conversation just held or the life changing implications that came with them.
Jon was humming as he tapped away at something on the screen before him, Damian propping his head up on his fist in vague boredom as he frowned down at the information he was reading.
The rest of the room Nomad had left behind was caught in a frozen, stunned silence in the wake of the baffling conversation they’d all just been witness to. All eyes in the room darted between Flamebird and Pheonix seated calmly at the end of the table, then to the space where Nomad had disappeared to, back to the young men, and then towards the head of the table where Superman and Batman sat looking bewildered and a bit on the verge of heart attacks.
The short status update meeting was about to become much, much longer it seemed.
Though a lot more entertaining.
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shadebloopnik · 1 month
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Unrequited/One-sided Radioapple but it isn't treated like an angsty end of the world thing.
Imagine they slowly get closer after all the banters, and eventually becoming close friends. Lucifer ends up catching feelings for him, and after a long while, decides to confess and ask Alastor if he felt the same.
Alastor admittedly does not feel the same.
He's getting uncomfortable, struggling to keep his composure because he's DONE this before. He KNOWS how this ends. He remembers Vox and all his insistent declarations of affection and desperate pleas for Alastor to reciprocate; the possessive entitlement. He remembers how all those sickly sweet words morphed into something venomous when he didn't give the lowlife what he wanted. He remembers the anger, the ridiculous notion that it was Alastor's fault why he was so mad, that Alastor led him on and that he obviously deserved something in payment for it all-
So yes, Alastor knows how this ends.
It doesn't mean he isn't disappointed though, because he actually LIKES Lucifer, far more than he ever did Vox. Perhaps not in the way the king might have wanted, but he did. He treasured their little talks, their drinking sessions, their shared love for their instruments, Lucifers singing, their little duets, the banter, the playful jabs, the sparring.
He'd even slowly grown accustomed to the other's touches, not feeling the same surge of disgust and discomfort whenever the shorter man would grab at his arm in excitement, forgetting his usual thoughtfulness of Alastor's touch aversion for the short moment of whatever distracted him. Alastor even enjoyed it at times, relaxing at the feel of soft feathers beneath his claws, or the sensation of gentle scratches against his ears.
Difficult as it was to admit, Alastor had grown to care for the angel, the same way he had for Rosie orv Mimzy.
But no matter how fond Alastor was of Lucifer, it didn't change the fact that he didn't feel the same way romantically, or even sexually. No way in the 7 rings of Hell was he going to lie to Lucifer about either, not going to even entertain the idea of pretending he reciprocated for Lucifer's sake. He respected his friend too much for that.
So a clear, direct rejection it is. It was a shame, but nothing could be done. He said his piece concisely, and waited, shoulders set, back straight, smile and eyes a careful blank canvas as he prepared for the inevitable.
Lucifer nodded, a normal soft smile still in place, "Thank you for your answer, it means a lot."
Which......what? Alastor expected an outburst, or at the very least sharp words.
What he did NOT expect was....acceptance? And not just that but, a happy one? Contentment?????
"You're....alright with that?", he had to ask, he had to. Lucifer was clearly just very good at masking his upset.
But the damn angel just smiled?? And it didn't even look fake, just as bright and soft as his normal smiles, albeit a little confused?? Lucifer smiled at him, his brows furrowing in a bit of confused disbelief, as though Alastor is being the weird one here.
"Uhh, yeah??? Why wouldn't I be??? Yeah I may have some feelings for you but its not like you're obligated to feel the same. Above anything else, we're friends first and foremost and i'm alright with that..."
Then he seemed to have reached his own little conclusion as his words trailed off, because suddenly Lucifer's eyes widened in realization of something, and his words picking up with a sense of panicked urgency.
Alastor would really like to know what Lucifer's supposed realization was about himself because he had absolutely no clue.
"I mean, we ARE still friends right?? I don't- I- I hope this doesn't like- change your opinion of me. You're not- oh gosh I'm not making you uncomfortable am I? I- I won't mention it! You can even forget this whole confession ever happened! We can just go on as before! I don't feel any different or would act any different! Honest! I mean, I don't regret confessing because you deserve to know and I'm not ashamed of my feelings, but I don't want you to be uncomfortable! It doesn't change the way i'll treat you! Or change any aspect of our relationship! I don't even think I like you more as a lover than as a friend! I really, really do love our friendship, it matters more to me than any thoughts of being in a romantic relationship with you! So please just forget it all-"
Alastor let the word vomit wash over him, every word leaving him more confused by the minute.
Because yes, there's the desperation he expected, but...it was more about, convincing Alastor to remain friends?? Reassuring Alastor that nothing has to change?? That their friendship is the most important thing here??
(If anyone asks, no Alastor's heart didn't swell. Only lesser beings would have had the urge to cry, and Alastor is anything but.)
Lucifer is unknowingly reassuring Alastor of every single one of his insecurities about the situation. Because Alastor DID want to remain friends, he cared too much about the man to let it go so easily. It was rare to find people who treasure friendships above romantic relationships.
"I don't tend to forget easily, nor will I forget this one in particular.", he spoke, finally finding his voice. At Lucifer's defeated, pained expression( is their friendship really that important to him?), he continued. "But....yes. I'd like that.. To remain...friends."
He didn't often say the word out loud, being comfortable enough with each other that it need not be reassured with the label. But with Lucifer brightening up like his namesake, relief and happiness palpable, Alastor felt no qualms at declaring their friendship out loud.
So life went on as usual. True to his word, Lucifer remained basically the same. The following weeks were a bit stilted for Alastor, as he put some rather painful distance between him and the angel; limiting their interactions, their usual touches.
Anytime now, Lucifer would break and show his true colors, Alastor would think, waiting for the boot to drop. Lucifer would end up angry, and dissatisfied, and that was that.
But it never happened. Lucifer never expressed discomfort when Alastor avoided him, seeming to be understanding of the others need for space. He was just as affectionate as before, though initially a bit held back, as though gauging Alastor's comfort.
Months would pass, and the king never faltered. Their friendship remained strong, if not growing ever closer than before. Alastor found himself even growing more comfortable with the man. Affectionate touches were becoming common, hugs and head pats and cuddles being a welcome thing, with the reassurance that the shorter king would never disrespect his boundaries.
Lucifer seemed genuinely happy about it, despite being clearly told that none of Alastor's actions hinted at anything romantic. In fact, he seemed ecstatic that Alastor was getting more affectionate towards him as a friend. The embarrassment the radio demon felt at having Lucifer basically tear up (no really, he was crying so hard, full on drama sobbing) with joy in front of him was intertwined with the sheer incredulous fondness he felt for the man at that moment.
They were sitting at a couch one night, more than a year passing since that confession. Lucifer was leaning back, resting against the cushions, while Alastor had his head on the smaller one's shoulder, nuzzling at the crook of his neck, legs tucked close to his body. Both had a book in hand, two nearly empty cups of tea on the table in front of them. Every so often, Lucifer would flex his fingers that rested on Alastor's head, running a digit against the other's ear, often prompting the demon to lean into the touch. White wings enveloped the two, blanketing them against the chill of the night.
As Alastor turned the page of his own book, relaxing into the touch of his dearest friend, he wondered how he ever got so lucky in hell.
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lxvenderjewel · 3 months
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stars
why do you look at me like i hung the stars?
it’s much more likely that it was you
sparkling even in smothering dark
even i could shine if i was next to you
we’re like the moon and sun
i’m only there because you are too
but you don’t need me to be yourself
and when i’m the moon, i rarely get to see you
we’re like light and a black hole
you glow in so many shades of blue
but of course, i suck it all up
and leave you without a clue
why do you look at me like i hung the stars?
don’t you know i hung them for you?
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chrollohearttags · 4 months
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me looking at y’all send every black aot writer on this platform the same recycled ask in a different font but then saying you’re tired of the same plots from us + that we all perpetuate toxicity with blk women when we actually answer 🌚
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satoruhour · 5 months
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LESSON NO. 1
a/n: bassist!geto teaching you how to play the guitar. loosely based off this but not really connected. as requested by @alcospray 💟 i dont play bass so i just watched a whole bunch of videos for just one song - any bass players wanna correct me feel free to do so ;"). only if u look like geto tho /j. they havent say the three words to each other yet, read it with that in mind :3
wc: 2.1k
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“any update from your fan?” gojo nudges him playfully as they wait for the principle of the university to introduce their band for the freshmen orientation, which, weirdly, something that the four of them never thought would happen. they sang about topics that wouldn’t normally get talked about or were shunned — politics, capitalism, authoritarianism — and yet being introduced by the principle of their place of education was quite ironic.
the bassist doesn’t hear gojo at all, not even when his best friend tries to tease him by calling you his fan. there were too many things in geto’s mind way even before this whole performance: his finals, a rival band that sought out to create false rumours about them, you.
always, you, the unexpected distracting thing that infiltrates his mind without fail. from the first night you trodded over to his dorms, opening up to him and letting him take care of you, to the many dates after. he’s taken you to cafés, watched you study way too many times, or simply let you sit through one of his song formation days.
a conscious effort to keep his distance and everything is just you, you, you, and geto is terrified. he’s never liked the kind of love with strings attached, with those mushy, complicated feelings, but no one-night stand, no quick fuck has ever made him feel the way you do.
but lately, he’s seen less of you, unwillingly accepting the principle’s offer to perform for the freshmen because he knew you were one of the group leaders ushering in the new students. at least he could try to search for you in the crowds, even getting a cheeky little text about where your group was meant to sit a week ago. he could be granted at least that when you both have been working so hard for final exams that you two could hardly see each other.
although, throughout their whole set, he sees everyone but you. he loses the bass line often, looks lost on the stage, needs to be cued in, something that never happens to the geto suguru. he’s always been a natural, and yet when it comes to you, you ruin him in the best way possible.
“hey— hey! man, what was that?” gojo slaps him on the back but it doesn’t even register in geto’s head, not really bothered by how he messed up the performance if it wasn’t for gojo’s vocals and shoko adding in her own improvisations for her parts. nanami can only shrug as he comes around to geto’s front.
“she wasn’t there, i looked, too,” nanami mumbled, tapping his drumsticks on his shoulder, “but you’re the most passionate guy i know who loves his guitars and bass lines.”
gojo has to chime in, “he’s the only bass guitarist you know, nanamiii!” and shoko pulls him back with a smack to the back of his head.
the dark-haired guy only clicks his tongue, “sorry ’bout him.”
nanami waves his drumsticks before pointing them at his face, “i know you’re obsessed with her, but i don’t wanna be a drummer if i can’t work with my bassist. sort this out before our next gig. she’s a sweet girl . . just, not when it’s at the expense of the band.”
geto only sighs in relief, landing a hand on his drummer’s shoulder.
“thank you, nanami.” the two exchange smiles before he gives a salute to his other two friends (“do you think he finally loves someone enough for him to be distracted on stage?” shoko says, and gojo gasps dramatically), heading out from the wings and down the stairs at the front of the stage where people look confused at the recent performer looking high and low for where your group was meant to be seated.
he sees not you, but rather your group leader mates who he’s at least seen pictures of, so he has no qualms about heading over to ask about your whereabouts — “the last thing she told our head group leader was that she was down with a nasty flu . . terrible fever and all. our main group leader went to her dorms to check on her and she’s unfit for doing orientations activities. we just sent her loads of soup packets and pei pa koa’s.”
geto laughs at the last part, knowing your need for sweet things. when it’s combined with a soothing coating for your throat, it’s pretty much the only thing you take when you’re sick. with a quick thanks, geto races for the campus bus straight to your dorm, the bass carried on his back rattling with his capo, chord sheets and mute nosily.
at least your annoying roommate’s gone home before school starts so it’s only you when geto knocks on the door. his knuckles rap against the wood, heart breaking when he hears your hoarse voice answer from the other side. soon, he can hear your feet moving towards the door, but it takes a while from how your body is, knocking over some things in the process.
“c-coming!” you groan out, wrapped in layers of clothing and feeling so hot you feel like you were in hell. but you aren’t expecting the sight when you open the door: your boyfriend panting, the guitar case behind him only telling you he’s come straight from the freshmen gig, the expression on his face.
“s-su!” you exclaim, both excitedly and a little worried because you didn’t want to get him sick, something you regret immediately when you go to clutch your throat.
“oh, baby,” geto brushes the hoodie off your head and brushes away the mess of your hair, “you look so pale, i— i would’ve come sooner if i knew—!”
“that’s why i didn’t tell you,” you pout, pushing away his hand gently and stepping back. it hurts to speak, but you feel like you at least need to explain your absence to him, “i was afraid you’d ditch the performance. also— don’t want you to get sick.”
suguru’s expression softens, “don’t worry about me, doll. come,” he takes one more step towards you and you feel so safe with him you don’t take a step away, “let me take care of you.”
the next hours are full of geto, a revered bassist in an upcoming band who dons long hair, piercings and has a menacing dragon down his arm alongside some boots, taking care of you. he runs back and forth between the pantry to make sure you have enough hot water, boiling hot soup to drink, enough layers to keep you warm and even calling gojo to get some tylenol from the supermarket.
“take a breather, sugu, i’m not gonna die,” you laugh slightly with a rasp to your voice, squeezing his hand as you rest against his shoulder. he’s made sure you at least have something in your stomach and enough hot water to power a hot spring, worry showing through his heartbeat when the hand he holds is still so warm.
“you’re heating up loads, baby,” geto frowns, turning his head to plant a kiss on the top of your head. he rolls his eyes when he hears it’s because you’re here. “do you want me to put cool towels on your head?”
you giggle again and cough, sniffling the mucus back up your nose, “no, it’s okay — you’d have to go to the pantry again to get water and i just want . . you here.”
suguru only hums, something akin to a melody that you don’t quite know but you’re happy to listen to his gruff voice anyway. the way he vibrates as he hums sends a calming feeling right to your body, and how he looks and feels so different from the very first time you were alone together.
he seemed so cool, passing the blunt to you and blowing his smoke into your mouth, kissing you like you’re just another girl in his roster; but right now, you were far from it.
now, not only is he still cool, but he’s also the most caring person you know and is something so far from his appearance and band: this is just one in many instances of how much he takes care of you. from the same fingers that strum upon the stainless steel, they travel miles over your body, your face like the first songs he learned on the guitar, weaving a melody and language so intricate only the two of you speak it.
silently, you feel him push you forward while he slots his legs on the other side of your body, letting you naturally rest with your back to his chest. “wanna learn?”
“i am in the most terrible state, suguru,” you whisper, reaching over to take a tissue. there, you blow your nose and clear out your nostrils until the next round, groaning softly at the grossness of the tissue.
“ohh . . but wasn’t someone saying that she isn’t dying?”
your jaw drops, “i can’t believe you would use that against me.”
the corners of your boyfriend’s lips turn up in a sly smile, “just quoting my girl. but—”
this time, he’s the one reaching over much further than you, hand clutching the neck of the guitar through the bag. gently, he settles it on both your laps, laughing when a small oof leaves your lips at just how heavy his bass was.
“i’ll do all the playing, you just mirror my movements.” with one more kiss to your temple, geto reaches around easily to play the starting notes of psycho killer. while there’s a clear layering of the lead, vocals and drums in his head, you’re just left confused by the repetitive bass.
but soon, you’re able to catch the notes that repeat over eight counts, hypnotised by the other’s longer fingers as they transition into the chorus line. it’s a little more complicated, now, descending into chords that you frankly don’t have any grasp on. one look at your face is enough to send him into soft laughter.
“okay, okay, let’s just focus on the verse.” if you weren’t feeling lightheaded from the fever before, you are now when geto curls his hands around yours, placing your finger easily on the fifth fret of the first string.
“so here . . we have the first bar of A notes, easy? then . .” he demonstrates the first four notes, plucking the strings for you before moving it down to the third fret to play the G note. a small smile spreads across his face when you slowly get the hang of it: six notes of A, two eighth notes, and then a G on the same string. geto slowly releases his left, letting you play on the melody while he helps you to pluck.
“that’s it,” still natural, it doesn’t faze geto at all to nuzzle his head into your neck from behind and to start kissing up your shoulder to your jaw, fingers still expertly plucking the string. the both of you repeat the bass line until he’s grabbing your awkward right hand and quietly, he angles your fingers so you’re following him, “you’re a fast learner.”
“i have a great teacher,” you mumble, and suguru doesn’t tell you that you just willingly kissed his jaw out of habit — because he knows you’d freak out at the possibility of getting him sick. it’s sweet, that in your delirious state you’re still acting out of admiration at the back of your mind. like the bass, loving geto feels as natural as the repetitiveness of psycho killer.
the bass notes reverberates through your bodies, just almost acting like a trance that makes your fingers falter upon the steel strings. he goes on to slowly play the chorus, stretching his fingers into weird shapes. he plays various chords, voice cracking just a bit when he tries to sing the vocals and you laugh softly.
“i just don’t have satoru’s higher register.” geto jokes, knowing you’re close to falling asleep from the way you hum and give one worded answers, so he easily takes over from you, changing it to an easy song. you let the low notes of the bass serenade you to sleep as you curl more into your boyfriend, but not before you hear a glimpse of geto’s harmonised singing to yellow.
it’s not often you hear him sing, being a bassist and all, but there is a nice edge to his voice — not quite made for vocals but you know he can do it if he tries. and even if you don’t voice it out, geto thinks the same thing. it’s similar to this stupid love thing that’s got him all tangled up and distracted, too, and he realises so many new things about himself through you.
you give love a fresh breath of life, nothing like the things suguru sings about in his unfinished demos and notebooks — multitude of things that involved you and his fucked-up perceptions and the foolishness of his parents telling him he’d find the same. you are all he thinks about when he sees the black cough syrup and he can’t stop craving the feel of your body against his.
the moment your breathing turns even and you sag against his embrace is when the strings stops and his breathing escalates. in geto suguru’s arms is the personification of something he never thought he would let into his life, yet you carry the choirs of love and acceptance so effortlessly like heath’s bass guitar solos and atsushi sakurai’s spotless vocals.
suguru’s head simply falls onto your unknowing shoulder, a small fuck that leaves his lips and a smile that he can’t contain is all he needs to know.
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@mysugu @suget @slttygeto @na-t0 💟
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loml · 6 months
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north-noire · 22 days
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didn't he have a young daughter before? what happened to her?
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cosmicstarlatte · 6 months
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Thirst/comfort???? How about Luci about to have sex with reader (their first time) and they cant at all relax? They're really tense and shaky because they know its gonna hurt. (Luci comforting reader during the whole thing? i dont know if this counts as a thirst)
-🍊Oranchi🍊
18+ nsfw headcanon // minors do not interact
Omg 😩💕!!!
Lucifer is a caretaker at heart and that extends to the bedroom. Depending on what u want huehue 😏
He knows if it's done right, it shouldn't be that painful. Of course he knows everyone is different but he assures you that he will try to make it the least painful as possible, 'slow and steady' is how it'll be done he tells you when he sees how nervous you are.
He would be so soft and sweet, he loves you and he wouldn't do anything to harm you. He would check in on you frequently through out the whole session. He'd be so gentle, praising you when he can.
"Look at how well you're taking my fingers already."
He'd press soft tender kisses to your face and neck as his warm lubed up fingers gently finger fuck you. He'd murmur a small "we can stop anytime you're uncomfortable my little lamb."
He will make sure you're as comfortable as you can be. After all, and perhaps there's some selfishness here, it'd hurt his pride if you didn't enjoy your first time with him.
"Mm...doing so good. The tip is already in, how are you feeling?" He asks and presses a sweet kiss to your forehead.
"Oh my little lamb wants more? Very well then." ⬦
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also someone requested a virgin mc version of this back in june and I've been sitting on it ever since. perhaps I should continue to work on it?🫣
Lucifers part is actually done and idk if I wanna release that by itself or not in case I don't actually finish it... Decisions of an amateur writer. 😔
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