#anyways everyone respect women it will make you so hot and sexy

[linka-from-captain-planet]

Power ranking BG3 ladies based on how much I'd personally like to marry them

All main and supporting women: Shadowheart, Lae'zel, Karlach Minthara, Jaheira, Isobel, Aylin, Mizora, Orin

Plus my background babes: Florrick, Talli, Alfira, Lakrissa, Araj, Nocturne, Skoona, Adrielle, Z'rell, Roah, Nine-Fingers, and special guest star Philomeen

*Isobel and Aylin deserve to be regarded as individuals occasionally, so yes I'm wrecking that home (Alfira and Lakrissa too)

*essentially, top 10 is "women I would like to marry" and 11-21 and is "women I would not like to marry"

Quartermaster Talli. Granted she has an unfair advantage due to looking and vibing as a fusion of my IRL girlfriend and the butch lesbian who installed my new garage door 3 years ago whom I'm still mildly obsessed with. But anyway, we'd have a really great life together. We'd be able to communicate, we'd be compatible in the bedroom, we have similar values. Wife material, Grade A - the gold standard comparison for everyone else on the list.

Isobel. We'd have our tiffs (we can both be a little catty and sensitive), but overall we'd be a pretty stable match. We'd put in the work to make it last. I feel like being a cleric counts as a "job" so I appreciate that.

Nocturne. My #1 "I can fix her" pick because I think I actually can. I appreciate a hard worker, so Nocturne having distinguished herself in her uh workplace enough to become an officer is very respectable to me. We could go to therapy together. Not a perfect match, but I think we could make it work.

Lakrissa. Would be an easy second place if she didn't read so young. She's a little immature (a little over-dedicated, a little too self-sacrificing) and so she'd have to do some growing up, but I think we could make it work.

Florrick. Even though she's my #1 beloved and by FAR the sexiest person in the entire game and I would do anything to [redacted], we'd be like two brick walls getting married. We're too similar. But sheer affection and lust propel her to the top 5 anyway, even though we'd probably be married 10 sexless years before one of us finally snapped and filed for divorce.

Skoona. Assuming she drops the whole self-deprecating thing (can't stand that). She has a job, she's sensitive, she's romantic, she's humble, and she's hot. I don't think we'd knock each others' socks off, but we'd be a nice match.

Lae'zel. Extremely 22 years old and that's an issue for me. I'm also too sensitive to make it through her tough outer shell to get to the soft waifu meat inside. However, she does have amazing wife material to uncover, so I think if I could be her second wife, we'd be golden.

Adrielle. We'd have our problems as two neurotic faux-normies, but we're neurotic in different ways, so maybe we'd complete each other? She's very conscientious and thoughtful, though, which are the most important wife traits for me. With commitment and therapy, we'd make it work, but it wouldn't be the smoothest ride.

Jaheira. I don't really want to be a step parent to young kids, so that pulls her down the list a bit, but there's no way I couldn't have her in the top 10. We'd get along great; we have the same sense of humor; we're both not clingy. A good match, but not really the wife for me.

Minthara. I want her so bad but she'd eat me alive and not in the sexy way. I would let her walk all over me for 2-3 years though, assuming she didn't dump me first. Impossible to rank below the top 10, but objectively not the wife for me.

Shadowheart. Like Lae'zel, there's a lot to get through before you get to the wife material deep inside. I would also need to be her second wife. Also, I'm not doing that cottagecore shit and I cannot have that many animals in my house.

Araj. I know I called her bad in bed 2 different ways in two other posts but that's not a problem, she's so sexy and interesting to me that I know I would fall super hard for her. I too love science? We have something in common. I feel like she'd bring out a lot in me, not necessarily good things, but to be loved is to be changed? I would probably come to my senses before really risking it all though.

Alfira. I love her so much but I am no Lakrissa, I could not handle both supporting her while she pursues her artistic goals AND having to top every time. We'd be that miserable couple that lets it drag on forever because nothing is *wrong* even though nothing is *right* and wind up hating each other.

Nine-Fingers. She'd stress me out too much. Running the streets, making enemies... what if a shake-down goes wrong? Admittedly I'm tempted to live out my mafia wife fantasies with her, but realistically, I think I'd have too many nervous breakdowns to make it worth it.

Karlach. The divorce would be so epic that I almost wanted to rank her higher, but I just know deep down that we would trigger/frustrate the fuck out of each other and completely implode long before making it to the courthouse and/or altar.

Aylin. I routinely get over-stimulated by my cats brushing against my leg when I'm trying to multi-task working and listening to music, so there is no universe in which I could tolerate being married to Aylin. She's too exuberant and touchy. I would be scream-crying WHY ARE YOU YELLING AT ME every time she simply asked me how my day was in her usual volume. An absolute disaster, she'd smother me despite her best intentions.

Z'rell. She can have place #17 to match the 17 husbands which I would not be okay with. I'm not jealous, but I'm not THAT not jealous. She's also just really harsh and I'm a crier, so we probably would not be able to have a conversation, let alone a relationship.

Roah Moonglow. Like Nine-Fingers, but I feel like the Zhent is like, a second-rate criminal organization and so it'd be like being a second-rate mafia wife. All the stress, fewer fist-sized emerald necklaces.

Mizora. On top of everything else, she's also a corporate LAWYER... yuck

Philomeen. I would go on 1 date with Philomeen, let her start a blowup fight with me outside of [regional burrito chain], let her neg me into fucking anyway, go no contact, and let her booty call me 2 years later at 3AM like nothing happened, but I would not even slightly consider dating her, let alone marrying her.

Orin. Ignoring the whole serial killer thing that's neither here nor there, the problem is the combo of overbearing family (my #1 dealbreaker of all time) and lack of communication skills (my #2 dealbreaker of all time). Like I'd be constantly trying to get her to go no contact with Serevok and she'd never listen and she'd always be talking in fucking Dr Seuss riddles and disappearing and pissing me off.

[jinkookspencil]

a better grip | kim seokjin

seokjin knew you were insecure about your stomach, but he has a confession regarding something he wanted to try in bed….. 

Description/TW: ~1.6k words / Seokjin x Reader (F) / Smut / Established relationship / Chubby Reader / OC or YN is insecure about her stomach (but teaser: Jin likes it). Again, nothing wrong with having a stomach or belly - this is for my fellow curvy girls! (but non-curvy girls can read and enjoy too, even straight-sized women can have bellies!)  / this is another one of those fics where I have a half-written, similar jk version in my drafts but finished the seokjin one first... / this is my first time writing smut like this, it's more graphic than my previous one so... i hope it's alright

“Think we can go for another round?”, Seokjin laughs as he heaves, laying naked on the bed beside you. 

He looked so handsome just laying there in his most natural state, even while he was sweaty and flushed. 

“You look so hot so yes, I’d want to” you say jokingly as you face him, propping yourself up on your elbow while letting your other hand feel his chest. “Unless you’re tired?,” you ask.

He turns to face you with a hint of a smile, and stares right into your eyes. “No. No, I’m not tired,” he whispers before leaning forwards to kiss you, and you catch his eyes skim over your body as he pulls away. 

“You know… you don’t need to cover up, my love. I want to see all of you,” he whispers, mere inches away from your face, his fingers caressing your cheek. 

Seokjin had been referring to the silk babydoll you wore with a low, low neckline, that mainly served to cover your belly. 

You had expressed your insecurities regarding your body image to Seokjin in the past. You had heard countless times that women shouldn’t express those feelings to their romantic partners and feign confidence instead - since confidence will always follow once you fake it - but you couldn’t lie to Seokjin. You didn’t believe in fakeness, especially when it came to the person you had to be closest to, and he saw right through you anyway. He made an effort to compliment you often and you never doubted he actually meant the words he said.. But he also understood that everyone had their own insecurities, and had always been mindful and respectful when you said you wouldn’t feel comfortable showing your entire body when you first started sleeping together. So, you always insisted on wearing something to cover your stomach - whether it was lingerie, a tank top, one of your pyjama tops or one of his - you had yet to have sex entirely naked. If you ever had spontaneous sex and seemingly no other choice but to get naked, you’d go so far as to make Seokjin take off his shirt for you to wear, or use something else to cover your stomach like a pillow, a towel, or even once - Seokjin’s trousers when you didn't have anything else. Luckily, there were lingerie that helped accommodate your needs as well as his - you tried to make sure he had access to your boobs, for his sake. All this time later you had to admit that the fabrics got in the way a couple of times, but Seokjin never said anything about it... until now.

“Seokjin, I’m just.. You know I don’t like my belly. I - I don’t want you to see it and get turned off and want to stop.. or..” you’re unable to finish your sentence before Jin interrupts you. 

“You know I’ve already seen your stomach, right? Your cute little dresses and tops always ride up at night and barely cover anything. And that one time you took a nap between rounds, you kicked off the blanket and practically lay on me completely naked. I was happy. I would never get turned off, and it’s not that I don’t care….” he pauses for a moment. “It was sexy. I love your body…a lot. I... I was turned on even more.”

“You...No don't... No, you weren't," you mumble, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment as you sit up and look away. Seokjin's fingers stroke your arm before lightly tracing the straps and lining of the babydoll on your body, finally resting on your back.

“You were sexy. I’m sorry, but I was happy to see you naked. And I like your tummy,” he admits in a serious tone, looking up at you.

While you were too stunned to speak, Seokjin gets on his knees on the bed, bringing his fingertips to your chin.

“Let me show you. Trust me. If you’re so uncomfortable, just say so, but let me try something first?”

You had never been vulnerable or close to someone as you had been with him. The thought of giving yourself to Seokjin as you are never scared you when it came to who you were as a person, but when it came to your body…. You had always been frightened. But now, being here with Seokjin and him telling you it’s a safe space to do so… And that he liked it…. It was reassuring. You don’t know what Seokjin has in mind, but you do know that you trust him. 

“O..okay..”, you whisper. 

He smiles before he bows down to kiss you, and the kiss lasts so long that you almost forget about your previous conversation. Just as your chest relaxes against his, he swiftly lifts the babydoll over your head and discards it across the room. Immediately finding your pull on the blanket in an effort to hide your body, his fingers intertwine with yours, loosening your grip until it falls away and your holding onto him instead. He places his other hand on your belly, his touch warm against your exposed skin, softly tracing your curves from hip to hip before suddenly squishing your stomach, causing you to squirm. 

If it weren’t for Seokjin’s delicate touch, the sensation would’ve thrown you off - it’s an action no one has ever done in the past. Instead, his touch sends vibrations that travel all over your body. It’s ticklish. It’s new. It’s weird. It’s….comforting. A sign of love. Just before you wonder if it’s sexy, Seokjin proves it to you by squishing your hips and pulling you even closer to him. 

You let out a gasp into Seokjin’s mouth, breaking your kiss, but he doesn’t give you a break. You both moan as he continues kissing down your neck, shoulder, and chest, and his hands move to your bum as he guides your back onto the bed. He continues kissing your body as he hovers over you, his legs between yours, slowly making his way downwards. A hand fondles your breast as he kisses the other before getting to your stomach. You breathe heavily as Seokjin peppers it entirely with kisses, your wince slowly fading every time you feel his lips. Soon, it's hard not to relax as Seokjin continues… every inch of your torso has been touched by his lips, his hands, and the softness of his breath. Your fingers find his hair, grabbing and tousling it as he kisses your body, alerting Seokjin to your changed disposition and your arousal. His kisses and moans grow more intense, indicating that he’s feeling the same way. He repeats the same actions over and over again until he reaches your pubic area, and you spread your legs a tad wider in response. 

To your surprise, Seokjin suddenly stops and moves back up, kissing your shoulder a number of times before facing you. 

“Look,” he starts between heavy breaths and pants in sync with yours. “I always… I always wanted to try something.”

He faces away as his face gets even redder. 

“But I know I need to ask your permission first. If you don’t want me to do it, I won’t.”

“What is it?”, you quickly ask. 

“I -…. I want to go down on you while grabbing onto your stomach,” he finally confesses. 

“Are you serious?!”, you exclaim. 

“Listen, I’ve always dreamt of it,” he breathes. “Your thighs are lovely but… I think the grip will be nice.”

His sweat drops onto your chest. 

“Fuck…” he sighs. “I don’t want to ruin the moment so… so just tell me if you don’t want me to so that we can continue. We can talk about it later….”

He obviously didn’t hate your body, his lips barely left it tonight…. If he’s always dreamt of it…

You slowly nod. 

“Yeah?” he asks in a panic.

“Yeah. Go ahead….” you whisper. 

“No fucking way,” he lets out as he kisses you. “Fuck, yes. I’ll make you feel good, baby. I'll make you feel as beautiful as you are. And if you want me to stop at any time, you know the safe word. Or just tap me three times if I miss it.”

You nod, and, kissing you again, he says “I love you so much”. 

Before assuming his position between your legs, Seokjin hungrily kisses your stomach, even surprising you by biting it and licking it afterwards.. Soon he gets to your pubic area once again and immediately wraps his arms around your legs. 

His lips soon finds your area, and as you relish in the sensations his tongue makes you feel, he grabs your stomach. 

“F- fuck,”, he lets out, his lips wet. “This is good. This is so good. Are you okay?” 

You don’t know how to answer the question, but you know you must immediately, between your moans and gasps. Sure, he was just squeezing your belly, but for the body part you were most insecure about to arouse him further in the heat of the moment? The feeling that it and your body are helping Seokjin feel pleasured? Fuck, you felt good and turned on too. 

“Yes,” you let out as a whine. “So good, Seokjin….C- continue.”

Seokjin doesn’t need any more instructions, his grip on your stomach getting firmer and his mouth getting hungrier before your body surrenders to him. He finishes shortly after you do, on your stomach no less, and he lays down beside you after cleaning you both up.

You still hadn’t said a word to each other besides moaning out each other’s names.

“Seokjin… thank you,” you whisper, facing him once your breathing returns back to normal. 

“You fulfilled one of my fantasies and you’re thanking me?” he smiles. “Thank you.”

“No, I mean I gave you my body and trusted you with it, and… you embraced it. It just means a lot to me, so thank you,” you say as you pull his lips to yours, tasting a tear you hadn’t realized you let out. 

“I don’t just embrace it or accept you or your body, honey, I love you. All of you. And it was..,” his voice trails off as his eyes roll around happily, “….better than I ever imagined. It was a better, soft grip.”

You smile and kiss him once again, but you break it apart when Seokjin suddenly squeezes your belly again. 

“Please let me do it again in the future,” he whimpers. 

“It’ll take some getting used to,” you giggle as you reach for his hand and place it on your stomach, “but it’s yours.”

Seokjin smiled widely and let out a quiet cheer before he moved towards your stomach and kissed it a few more times, making you giggle. 

You loved all of him. 

And he loved all of you…. 

#jin smut #seokjin smut #bts smut #bts fanfic #kim seokjin smut #bts fanfiction #seokjin fanfic #seokjin fic #jin fanfic #jin x chubby reader #seokjin x chubby reader #seokjin x plus size reader #kim seokjin x you #jin x you #seokjin x you #jin fic #jin fanfiction #jin x reader #seokjin fanfiction #jin x curvy reader #seokjin x curvy reader #bts x chubby reader

[possessionisamyth]

Reasons to Love Ada Wong:

-Outstanding Intelligence: As seen in damnation, re4, and re6, Ada knows how to remain one step ahead. She knew the BSAA lie would fall through so she could get into the facility to access what she really needed. She immediately adjusted her plan in re4 to make her helping Leon out of tight fits appear as inconsequential tasks while she went towards her goal. She immediately figured out the "Simmons" calling her wasn't Simmons at all. She's not someone you can outsmart easily.

-Excellent Self-Preservation: Gotta look out for #1 baby, and Ada is the best embodiment of that. RE is packed with enough martyrs who will give up their entire lives "fighting for the cause". This girl is there to get her paycheck and get the fuck out so she can live her life, and I respect it. I hope she charges triple for overtime and extra hassle. We should all be doing that.

-Plays The System Like A Fiddle: Ada says fuck cops. Ada says fuck the government. Ada says fuck corporations. As long as what they're doing won't pull her into a long standing cross fire, she will work for the money they offer, but she'll go where she pleases once she's done. Is that really any different than people in real life looking for a better job when leaving an old, shitty one? I don't think it is.

-Has only one weakness: Ada knows her limits. She knows when she can save someone and when she can't. She knows when to let something lie and when to go for it. Leon is her only weakness, but everyone else she can take or leave unless they prove they'll have value for her work. If Leon died, she'd retire or go back to being ultra capable, so kill him Capcom.

-Impeccable fashion: Ignoring the dragon lady take with og re4 dress, Ada's other outfits are fire. Red is a wonderful color on her because it hides the blood, and also she's so hot.

-Emotionally Unavailable: She is the only RE woman who is not seen sincerely comforting a man or comforting a child(re2/re2r doesn't count because she's acting). This is extremely refreshing. Yes, she is the sexy femme fatale, but does she comfort Leon? No. Does she baby Sherry when she saves her? No. This isn't a moral failing. She's just not that into you, and it's not a flaw. It's an underutilized character trait with women especially.

-Hookshot User: I don't know about the people younger than me, but this was the coolest tool for people to use in cartoons when I was a kid. It's the closest a normal human can get to being Spiderman, and that automatically puts a character on the Best Design list in my opinion.

-High-risk High-reward Thinker: Working with B.O.Ws in any capacity means you're somewhat of a gambler. What does Chris get from going into enemy territory to arrest some guy? Paperwork. What does Jill get from saving Chris' life? Brainwashed into a killing machine and made blonde(the worst fate bestowed upon women). Leon fights for his country. Ew. Gross. You know what Ada gets going into death ridden zones? Her bag. Her check. Her money, and it's actually worth it.

-Espionage S-Rank: The international arrest warrant is going to make things a little more difficult, but Ada's made her career around going under the radar to get in and out of high security areas. She gets the gear, the guns, and plays her role with finesse. Her intel gathering skills must be impeccable to achieve this.

Quick Bullet Points:

Not a eugenicist. (Wesker is.)

Doesn't experiment on corpses. (Heisenberg does this.)

No god-complex. (Wesker has this.)

Against child labor? (Heisenberg wants a baby gun.)

Doesn't make viruses that kill people. Only gets paid to move them around. (Unlike some people.)

Thinks Leon is pathetic, but likes him anyway even if he's a lil ugly. Which is so nice of her. (❤️)

So there's my comprehensive list I said I'd make weeks ago but am just now getting to. If anyone has anything else to add feel free to do so in the replies. If you're here to be an Ada hater, you'll get blocked.

#re #resident evil #ada wong

[thegeminisage]

6, 13, 18?

HI BESTIE ty for asking sorry i didnt do it last night I Went To Bed. lets fuckin go

6. which ship fans are the most annoying?

well, look, the obvious answer would be those j*hnlock truthers, and i do hope those tjlc people are having a wretched day rn wherever they are, but ACTUALLY im actually choosing atla for this just to say (sorry) i hate zu//kka SO MUCH. i hate it so much, it's unreal. i don't particularly have beef with the shippers necessarily but i think the concept is so fucking lame. it's a classic case of migratory slash fandom paired with a side of misogyny. the thought process goes like "zuko is rotting holes in my brain > want to ship him with someone > i don't want to ship him with a female character > the only one left is sokka." (even though suki is right there.) aang is out on the basis of being a baby and the rest of the gaang is girls. if you don't like zutara that's fine, but sokka/zuko is the SAME THING with less anger issues and less women. katara is kind of a devisive character to begin with (this is misogyny) but then one time i saw someone deride zutara for being "straight" to reason why shipping zuko with sokka was superior and i have never forgiven it. IT'S THE SAME SHIP. like HOW was this popular enough to PIT ZUKO/SOKKA/SUKI IN THE OT3 SEMIFINAL POLL? hello?? what were they doing there?? suki and zuko speak TWO LINES to one another! god! i guess that's better than using your ship to excuse hating suki but jesus christ it's so transparent just say you hate women and go

13. worst blorboficiation

i'm not doing this one or your other one for spn bc someone else sent in these exact numbers so i am choosing teen wolf. what im gonna say is so controversial but it's actually peter hale and it's not even fanon that did this IT'S CANON. i used to be a big peter fan and then it got completely ruined. ok so peter's whole thing, right, is that he's a deeply horrible person and that kate argent burned every molecule of humanity out of him during the hale fire. okay, got it. fuck yeah. that's rad. SO WHY THEN. IN THE SEASON 3 FLASHBACK EPISODE. WAS HE ACTING EXACTLY THE SAME AS HE DID AS AN ADULT. and this was the one thing that fanon was getting RIGHT. pre-fire versions of peter in fic were wildly different to post-fire versions BECAUSE THAT WAS THE IMPLICATION. peter works perfectly as a villain because his actions are reprehensible but his motives are justified which makes him COMPLEX and with one episode they RUINED IT. it speaks to a larger problem of jeff davis backtracking a lot of stuff that was said or implied in season 1 (such as kate preying on derek when he was underage) for censorship or what the fuck ever. now whenever i see peter in anything the only thing i wanna do is roll my eyes. they made him like him for ten whole minutes in 6A and that was the best it ever got again. sorry to peter hale fans.

18. it’s absolutely criminal that the fandom has been sleeping on…

i won't list my teenwolf rarepair here, but that. oh, wait, actually, my ff13 rarepair. fang & lightning are WAY BETTER than fang & vanille. this on the basis of 1. hot. that section where you can do double commando. sexy. 2. everyone keeps calling vanille a kid and it weirds me out to ship her with someone who calls her that/thinks of her that way 3. lightning/fang is sort of the same dynamic as lightning/snow which i love in a NONROMANTIC way in that lightning is the straight man, very stoic, and fang is so flippant and casual about everything and so open with her emotions that it gets on her nerves until it becomes endearing. and theyre both quite In Charge generally so when lightning is like well every monster is one step closer to rescuing vanille they keep each other going in that same way, out of sheer stubbornness. anyway 10/10 ship dynamic i completely understand and respect fang/vanille fans but i wish fang/lightning got the same amt of attention

[ASK MEME]

#liz answers asks #anonymous #ASK MEMES #thank you for asking wow i really went off this time #sorry to the people still in ym inbox i have yardwork but ill be back

[ask-the-shorty-squad]

Agility should be next.. I think Tenko is helping this time...

*They head over to the Akido dojo.*

Usually I'd kick you out instantly for being a degenerate male. But I'll be kind and help you. Everyone deserves a chance. Even total degenerates like yourself.

Some degenerates are just the worst!! If I was my old self I'd of beaten up all you nasty degenerates! But I'm a new person now! So be lucky I'm willing to help you!!

Does this make me a degenerate male..?

W-Well you're different Chihiro, like Fuyuhiko your respectable for women. I cant say that about all males.

But nobody is as amazing and caring and adorable and hot and sexy and small and cute and kind and loveable and powerful as Himiko!!!

Eeeeek!!! Himiko is so super amazing!!! I'll protect her with my life!!!

And I'll destroy any Degenerate that gets in her way!!!!

*I guess Yayoi can relate to that feeling with Nagito.*

That's kinda how I am with Nagi! So I guess we have something in common. Anyways, what exercise are we doing?

#despair teruteru #sdr2 goodbye despair #danganronpa 2 #danganronpa

[ocdhuacheng]

you seem to post a lot about the grooming in csm so i was wondering if you have thoughts about how he depicts these dark topics, whether it's creepy, and also whether it's irresponsible even if it's not creepy. he is sometimes too ambiguous, especially with the incest, it's not really condemned... idk just as part of the whole consuming media critically thing

like im gonna be real i dont feel like i can say much about the incest thing itself bc again i havent read those manga but its certainly sus if what people are saying is true, and it calls into question his intentions but tbh im not really sure what to think about him. like for chainsaw man specifically. i dont fucking know. i cant read his mind obviously but there are things that he has said that seem contradictory like one one hand ive read things that sounded very earnest from him about how he wants to trust his audience to know what hes going for (which may be a reason some things can be ambiguous, not necessarily a malicious thing.) and how in creating makima he did research on abusive parents and whatnot which did make it seem to me like he does care about his messages of grooming/abuse. but some other things hes said contradicts that (too me, given an english translation, bc things are always lost in translation) like in particular his comments on how he made so many 'strong women' in chainsaw man because he was bullied by girls in highschool and he thought it was hot and wanted to be dominated by women. or whatever the fuck it was that he said idr. to me this implied that he made makima (and himeno) with the intention of being sexy and attractive to the reader, and not as vessels for commentary on pedophilia/grooming/etc. so i really dont know what to believe or if its a mix of both with him because i just dont know enough about him and its not like i would ever know unless i was able to read his mind. like i personally think that csm was /mostly/ written with good intentions but there is still quite a bit of questionable choices so like?? i dont know what else you want me to say. i dont think the questionable parts are as overt as the commentary so yeah i acknowledge that there are probably some ulterior motives but the rest of it is done with enough respect imo that im able to still enjoy what he has to say. like there are weird stuff: how can you have a commentary on the exploitation of children with makima and denji, but at the same time have reze and asa running around basically naked? idfk. it makes no sense, but i think that part just comes from misogyny. (also i do admit i think that the himeno thing specifically seemed very. something to be laughed at instead of criticized. though id have to reread bc i dont remember the details) but anyway people can have good takes one one topic but have just entirely awful takes on another like its not like people are completely good or bad/right or wrong. thats a ridiculous thing to say. obligatory obviously not excusing it but i feel like i have to spell that out. like just because someone says something awful about one thing doesnt necessarily invalidate what they say on something else.

and assuming that csm was written entirely with good intentions and nothing creepy at all : you cant write things like this and please everyone. theres always going to be parts that people dont like, both for legitimate personal reasons and just because of misinterpretation. like i dont think its a bad thing for things to be subtle and ambiguous and not in your face i think its a good thing to have faith in your readers to figure things out themselves and not have everything spelled out for them but that always runs the risk of people misinterpreting things, which at worse you can have a lolita situation (disclaimer -> has personally never read lolita) where people use the book as a fetishization of pedophilia instead of a condemnation. obviously this is bad and dangerous but to say its irresponsible is idk. like i think thats a very subjective thing. is it irresponsible to attempt to comment dark topics and trust that your audience knows what youre going for? i personally do not think so? is it your fault if the audience doesnt understand what youre going for? maybe if literally everyone/the vast majority of them misunderstands you then that might be a you problem and yeah you might want to reflect on how you wrote something, even if you meant well. but i think with topics like this there are always going to be people who take your words in ways you dont want to and thats not something you can control unless you want to spell everything out for them letter by letter, which makes for. uh. terrible writing. lmfao. its infantilizing to the audience to think that they cant figure things out themselves and that you need to be responsible for every single goddamn person who reads your story. and you shouldnt just NOT write dark things (respectfully) because people might misinterpret you or because it might upset people. so no. if given that it was written with good, not-creepy intentions i do not think chainsaw man is something irresponsible, even if there is a chunk of people who take it at face value. and even if it does have some creepy intentions, i personally think enough of it has merit to make it worth something.

anyway tl;dr:

thoughts about how he depicts these dark topics: compelling but not perfect. plus i dont think you can be "perfect" in portraying anything because its all subjective and everyone has different comfort levels

whether it's creepy: cant say what his intentions are for sure obvi but in my interpretation i dont think he wrote this with mainly creepy fanservicey intentions (well perhaps some, considering all the naked girls, and the thing about the bullying being hot, and whatever, but i dont think those would be the main goal of csm), even if he made a few questionable to downright weird choices, both in chainsaw man and in other manga.

whether it's irresponsible even if it's not creepy: personally, no.

he is sometimes too ambiguous, especially with the incest: cant comment on the incest (inclined to believe that yeah it probably was too ambigious at best and positive at worst in that case tho. just from what ive heard) but for other things sure maybe sometimes he can be ambiguous but i dont think its necessarily malicious, and more just that he doesnt want to be in-your-face about explaining things

anyway this isnt an anti or pro fujimoto post . i can literally only talk from what i personally got out of the manga and what little things ive read from interviews. so yeah. thanks for the interrogation

#if this is coherent at all #.txt #csm #asks #anonymous #incest mention #grooming mention #clarification because I feel like this kind of reads as a softening on the answer to the previous ask: #I still think the incest thing is gross and I don’t trust like that but it doesn’t really affect my reading of csm specifically tooooo much #if that makes sense

[kcnnarys]

men ain’t shit and I’m so sorry you’re getting hate, you don’t deserve it. As a bi woman, this is a topic I’ve been very passionate for a long time. The dudes in the choices are still dudes. And they refuse acknowledge that one dinky little phone app’s target audience is women and that it’s okay that men don’t get “equal representation.” So many people on here act like it’s straight girls vs gay guys when it comes to rep, but overall the argument is men vs women in gaming. I can count on one hand the number of (console) video games I’ve played where the main character is a set-in-stone, canon woman (excluding games like fallout, mass effect, etc where you pick.) This fandom truly makes it feel like women can’t have shit.

And of course I want mlm players to have representation. Of course I think it’s silly that pb doesn’t offer more “Gender of Choice” stories, but like it’s the constant bitching via men that really does me in. Like I didn’t post under every rockstar games tweet that grand theft auto or red dead redemption were genderlocked. Sometimes stories are about women, sometimes they’re about men. People take the name Choices a little too literally think they deserve to pick every aspect and it sucks.

Anyways. Sorry for ranting, and you don’t have to publish this at all if you aren’t comfortable, I don’t want to add to discourse or make anything worse for you. But I do want to thank you, because seeing your post made me feel a hell of a lot better, and I’m so so sorry you’re getting bullied over it. I just hate that women in this fandom can’t say or do anything because men be acting like men, even in this corner of fandom.

PS- if you really wanna see men whining, check out any tweet about the new assassins creed game. They’re being disgusting because they don’t like the female option between the two characters- it’s disgusting. Like they’re not just actively disliking her, they’re demanding the game get rid of the option altogether. Men will never understand what it’s like to be a woman in gaming. (Or you know, the world)

EXACTLY omfg rt to all of this ..... i also have grown up playing a lot of console games and all of the ones i played were genderlocked as a man or choice of gender (mostly the aforementioned, especially in the 00s) so choices, while admittedly a gongshow at times, was one of the first games that was written specifically for women and wasnt completely botched. and i found a community of women online who also play choices and are so full of love and kindness and you cant place a value on that.

EVERYONE deserves that feeling of community and safety, including mlm. games rarely (if ever) cater to them and that is a huge problem. but being misogynistic and making women feel bad? the end does NOT justify the means. let women exist and enjoy their sense of community, especially since so many of us on here are lgbt (which is another crucial piece of information that is being disregarded)

sending you some love ❤❤

#anyways everyone respect women it will make you so hot and sexy #asks #anon #long post

[backofthebookshelf]

Horror Recs for Magnus Fans, Part the Second

Last time I did this I was assuming that anyone who was listening to a horror podcast already knew some horror, but I have since learned that this is not the case, so there are a few more classics in here, as well as some more of my faves.

For anyone and everyone who listens to TMA: Sarah Monette's Kyle Murchison Booth stories, many (though not all) of which are collected in The Bone Key. Queer information professional would very much like for ghosts and monsters to leave him alone, does not get what he wants; can't resist the impulse to help out people who are more fucked over than him anyway. I love Booth so much, he deserves much better things than he gets.

For Web stans: Blindsight by Peter Watts, a sci-fi horror novel about free will and consciousness. Lydia Nicholas named this as one of her favorite books in the first Assistant's Round Table; I respect her for it, but I read this once and it gave me an existential crisis. Highly recommended, but make sure you've got a palate cleanser.

For jonelias fans and/or fans of the Corruption: Candyman (1992). With bonus folklore & urban legend meta! Kissing bees into your (potential) lover's mouth in order to convince them to become a murderous spirit of vengeance just like you! "All you have left is my desire for you"!!! It's extremely sexy, is what I'm saying, in all the best ways. (Trigger warnings for violence against children and a fair amount of gore, in addition to the aforementioned bees.)

If you love the no-holds-barred social commentary of season five: The Ballad of Black Tom by Victor LaValle. No, I will not shut up about this book until absolutely everyone in the world has read it. It's short! You could read it in an afternoon! This is Lovecraft's "The Horror at Red Hook" from the point of view of a black musician and hustler who's hired to help out with the ritual, and it's incredible. (If you're enjoying Lovecraft Country, absolutely do not miss this.)

If you miss the standalone statements of season one and two: the works of the early 20th century cosmic horror and ghost story writers: M.R. James, Algernon Blackwood, Arthur Machen. Machen has a tendency to get pretty eugenics-y, and they're all either misogynistic or don't have women in their stories at all, but goddamn do they do atmosphere. ("The Magnus Archives" is named after James's "Count Magnus," Jonny's favorite M.R. James story.)

For Stranger fans and those who love unexplained mysteries: The Twisted Ones by T. Kingfisher, a Southern horror (not a Gothic) about a woman who goes to clean out her abusive grandmother's house to sell it only to find that there are things other than his wife that her grandfather was afraid of, and for good reason. Features hot competent neighbors, extremely practical reactions to terrible monsters, and a Very Good Dog (the dog does not die).

For Lonely bitches: "The Horla" by Guy de Maupassant, the story I use to describe my depression to people. That's a pretty good content warning, honestly.

If you loved the "Am I still human?" plotline: The Monster of Elendhaven by Jennifer Giesbrecht, a grotesque little novella about monsters in (dysfunctional) love. I'm a bit iffy on the ending, but honestly landing the ending of horror is so tricky that I'll almost never discount something just because I'm iffy on the ending. The body horror and emotional repression throughout make up for it.

If you crave the supernatural adventure series starring Gerry Keay: The Sandman Slim series by Richard Kadrey - modern noir, so gritty you can feel it in your teeth, featuring all kinds of monsters, demons, curses, and narrowly-averted apocalypses. Not as misogynistic as noir can get, but it is noir so there's definitely a bit of that (but definitely not as misogynistic as Jim Butcher). Trigger warnings all over the place; this is B-movie horror in book form.

For Distortion fans: The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson. Bears almost no resemblance to the Netflix series of the same name, or any of the movies based on it; this is a twisty psychological novel with a profoundly unreliable narrator and a lot of repressed queerness. Michael/Helen would be right at home in Hill House. (Content warning for suicidality.)

If you want your horror to make you cry: El Orfanado, directed by Guillermo del Toro; a family moves into a house that used to be an orphanage, that is, of course, haunted. This is a tremendous distillation of the way that horror movies are so often centered around women not being believed, so content warning for gaslighting (and for harm to children); I saw this movie once and entire scenes are embedded in my brain in full color. (Honestly you can't go wrong with any Guillermo del Toro movies; he's fantastic.)

If you want your horror to make you cry, but make it gay: In the Flesh, two seasons of a zombie TV show tragically cut short (yes, it ends on a cliffhanger, I’m sorry). Uses zombies as a metaphor for homophobia, but also includes actual queer people. Content warning for small-town-typical homophobia and tragic gays. Please come yell with me about Simon Monroe, I love him so much.

For Slaughter fans: The Shining by Stephen King - look, look, I know. He's not great. He needs an editor. The movie is all kinds of fucked up. But this book is one of the most raw, personal horror stories I've ever read, and it's got an excellent combination of supernatural influence and real-life mundane fear of addiction and personal weakness that really grabs you by the intestines. Again, an iffy ending, but it's worth it for the slow descent into paranoia and madness.

If you just want to try to find some authors to read: The Borderlands anthology series, paperbacks from the height of the 80s horror boom; there are so many different kinds of stories in here that I can pretty much guarantee you that you won't like some of them but you might well find something new to fall in love with. A lot of these writers are out of print but readily available at used bookstores or for pennies on Amazon.

As always, let me know if you liked any of these or if you have a specific need: it is no longer my job to recommend books and media to people but it is still my very favorite thing to do and I will be obnoxious about it forever

#the magnus archives #tma #horror recs #horror #book recs #movie recs

[grappling-with-my-baki-addiction]

✨More Requested Headcanons✨

Howdy!

Sorry this is a smidge late, been busy with work and regular adult stuff. You know;

💖 Boring Crap That Costs me Money 💖

(ヘ･_･)ヘ┳━┳

(╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻

This request was submitted before my rules post so I still included Baki even though he is in canon a minor, I aged him up to his mid twenties. Let me know if this is problematic for some people, I only want to spread the good vibes and good times with ya'll sweeties!

Let me know your opinions on aging up characters, yay or nay? If anyone has a problem with it, please let me know!

I hope everyone is having a good day/night!

~Cheers

Their reaction to their Fem!S/o becoming drunk; confesses their love for, and then trying to seduce them. Then changing their mind and only wanting to give kisses and snuggle while continuing to confess their love.

Kaoru Hanayama:

He would find it a mix of endearing as well as amusing. More so depending on if his s/o is more shy or outgoing.

The shyer they are, he will tease them while holding them.

More outgoing, he will admire their honesty and boldness to openly talk about their feelings.

He finds it cute that they are teary eyed and confessing their love for him.

When they try to seduce him, kissing his face, caressing his neck, chest, grinding into his lap, he gets serious and a bit hot under the collar.

Hands going up and down their body, lifting their shirt off, and playing with the clasp of their pants…

Until his s/o becomes teary eyed again and goes back to confessing their love and saying they want to cuddle in bed for the rest of the night.

He’d chuckle at the turn of events, carrying his s/o to their shared bed and letting them have their cuddly way with him.

Hemming and haa-ing at his partners musings, stating his own feelings for them by holding them a little tighter, and just enjoying their presence.

“ There are no words elegant enough to describe my feelings for you “

Jack Hanma:

He’d 100% be laughing and enjoying their drunken shenanigans.

Since he's so freaking BeEfY, it takes a lot to get him drunk, so watching his s/o get smashed is always a verified good time.

Be ready to be teased relentlessly the morning after regardless of how bad the hangover is.

He knows they love him through their actions, so them taking the time to confess with their words only feeds his ego.

Though hearing them say it in public strokes his ego in the best way. Expect to be pinned to the nearest wall.

So when their confessions turn to incorrigible flirting, kisses, and steamy touches, he’s 1000% down for it.

He’d pick them up ASAP and move them somewhere more comfortable.

This isn’t the first time his s/o got this shit faced and he knows he has a time limit before they return to their lovesick coo-ing.

He’ll be trying to keep the mood going for as long as he can.

Unless his partner tells/shows him otherwise

We do not stand by boundary stompers in this house, no ma’am

When the mood eventually fizzles out, he’s fine to deal with his pent up vibes on his own time.

Being content with having his inebriated s/o ‘s coo-ing and the cuddles they offer.

Opting to Open a few beers for himself, resolved that he’s missed his window anyways.

if there is no sex tonight why not get shitfaced together?

“ No one drives me crazy like you do, never change. ”

Baki Hanma: (aged up to mid twenties)

Baki would be drunk with them.

Serenading each other with sappy love songs

hugging each other while repeatedly trying to one up each other in affection

“ I love you the most”

“No I love YOU the mostest”

“Well fuck you, I love you the morest”

He’s spent his life fighting and becoming stronger, so he hasn’t spent all that much time, if at all, around alcohol and building a tolerance to it.

Like give this man-child some bread please

So when his s/o tries to bring the sexy, it goes over his head.

He’s oblivious to their advances. All he knows is he needs to tell them he loves them more than they love him.

He’d touch their forehead with his, and just stare at them in a drunken haze,

“ Hey y/n, listen I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise. Just stay with me so I can protect you”

Beware of projectile vomit inbound.

Yujiro Hanma:

The absolute EGO BOOST this man gets

If they were somewhere public he is grinning and laughing like the mad man he is.

He’d be running his hands up and down his s/o back, sides, legs. Just enjoying the feeling of his rough, calloused hands rubbing against their much softer skin.

He’s half listening to them after a while, mostly just enjoying his own buzz and feeling them up.

When he feels them grind against him, his full attention is back on them.

He’ll give them a choice to stop here, if they don’t then they should expect to not walk tomorrow.

“ If you know what's good for you dollface, you'll have some water and call it a night. Unless you want to be my chew toy that is. ”

Kaioh Retsu:

Retsu would be loving the cuddles, and general fawning from his s/o.

Although he is concerned about the amount of alcohol they’ve consumed, he can’t help but find the blush on their cheeks to be adorable and in general just admiring them

Welcome to cuddle town

He’s making sure they are hydrated, giving them snacks, and just doing his best to help minimize the hangover that will be coming in the morning.

When they eventually try to seduce him, he becomes rigid.

He feels like he would be taking advantage of them in this state, so he's going to be doing everything in his power to settle them down.

Though he can't hide the deep blush on his face, no matter how much he wants to.

He’d keep them close to his side, still wanting to take care of them

tracing patterns on their back, and telling them stories from his time at the temple, and his travels.

Eventually he’d lull his drunken s/o to sleep, staring at their relaxed expression and be so content and proud to have them as his own.

“ Let’s stay like this, just a little while longer ”

Katsumi Orochi:

He’d be pretty bashful, as he was out drinking with his s/o, Atsushi Suedo, Kiyosumi Katou, and his Shinshinkai comrades.

Having his s/o clinging to him as they confess their feelings makes him feel a sense of pride.

They choose him, out of all the fighters, the men and women around them, they choose to be with him.

Katou and Suedo would be teasing the hell out of the pair.

Now imagine the awkward silence when y/n becomes a little spicy

Katsumi is red in the face, fumbling his words, unable to form a syllable, let alone a full sentence.

Katou is dying from laughter, cracking jokes, and in general just being Katou.

And Suedo is hiding his face, that's his brother’s partner and he (Suedo) is a respectful gentleman after all!

Ignore the gap in his fingies.

Katsumi would eventually regain enough composure to scoop up his s/o in his arms and go for the door.

He’s determined that now is a good time to call it a night for the two of them.

Whether they were able to sober up a bit during the escape or not, Katsumi would insist on carrying them all the way to their shared home.

They just look so cute in his arms, he might explode at the cuteness.

“ Like hell I’ll ever let you go. Now or ever, you're stuck with me ”

#baki headcanons #baki requests #hanayama #jack hanma #yujiro hanma #retsu kaioh headcanons #retsu kaioh #katsumi orochi #baki hanma #baki headcanon requests #kaoru hanayama headcanons #kaoru hanayama

[realcube]

haikyuu!! characters with a chubby! s/o 💗

characters: tsukishima, oikawa, atsumu, osamu & suna

thank you anon for this cute request 🥺

tw// comfort, fluff, angst if you squint, insecure! reader, swearing, they/them reader but reader wears a dress (in osamu’s)

(a/n): anon requested comfort but i feel bad bc i’m writing this like ‘no, (y/n)! stop being sad! you’re beautiful! 😡’ then i remember that i can just select+delete the pain away💗💖

Kei Tsukishima

let’s not pretend like tsukki gives a fuck what you look like tbh ✋

like nobody is ‘perfect’ and everyone is insecure (to varying degrees) so why would he care about your weight?

nobody ticks every single box to meet society’s definition of ‘beauty’  

plus, tsukki thought beauty standards were stupid away so he created his own - and you meet every single one 💖

in fact, almost everyone meets his beauty standards - besides himself ‘:)

he seriously doesn’t care about your weight tbh, it’s the most trivial thing so why would he care?

although, he wasn’t naïve enough to think that everyone was like-minded

your front of ‘i don’t care about what other people think of me’ was strong enough to fool even the most observant of poeple, including tsukki

however, tsukishima failed to take into consideration that you were his girlfriend, meaning that you could be playing the same game as him; ‘pretend to not care about superficial things like beauty so nobody will think for a second that you are insecure about your body’

he wasn’t one to give compliments but neither were you tbh so the mutual agreement y’all have of ‘let’s call each other names as a form of endearment to avoid those awkward moments were you are looking for the right words for praise but can’t come up with anything’  was fair

but after you accidentally sent him a self-deprecating ‘joke’ message that was clearly meant for a friend, he never passed up the opportunity to compliment you ever again

like he kinda just stared at the message like 😮 ‘does (y/n) seriously care about their weight? why? it doesn’t even matter. how stupid! who told them that the shape of their body is important? bc it’s not..’

then he turns to look in the mirror like ‘wow you srsly need to put on muscle, lanky bitch. or else (y/n) will probably leave you for some built jackass like kuroo. pick up some weights, noodle arms!’

anyway, he’s not too good with words and comfort in situations like these but he’ll probably reply to your text with something out-of-character and surprisingly sweet

to paraphrase (bc the actual text would probably be like a whole damn persuasive essay LMAO he starts with the introduction, makes five points and finishes with a conclusion pfft) , i think it would be something like: ‘hey, (y/n). ik that text was probably meant for one of your friends (but if they’re the ones making you feel bad about your weight then you should probably drop those toxic cunts anyway 💅✨) but i just wanted to say that even though you are the biggest clown i’ve ever met (/j) you’re still v beautiful 💗 stop being insecure or i’ll pass away ⚰💀 ok thx love you bye’

Tōru Oikawa

how are you insecure if you’re dating oikawa? /j

like he is such a hypeman

whenever y’all take pics in your ✨fancy outfits ✨ for formal event, he acts as though you are second most beautiful thing on the face of this earth 😍 (second to him ofc)

but he only does that so he can keep up the reputation he has of being effortlessly confident bc he’s scared that if it slips for even a second, everyone will see how truly insecure he is

truthfully, in his eyes, you come first place by miles (❤ ω ❤)

like srsly, you’re so gorgeous in that dress!! he hopes that you know that he is joking about the whole ‘second place’ thing bc you should be able to tell by the way he looks at you that you’re genuinely the most striking person he’s ever laid his eyes on 

you never acted overly confident in front of him but he definitely didn’t think you were as insecure as you are

he thought you were just..humble :)

sometimes he’d hear you mutter something mean about yourself as you passed the mirror but he paid no mind to it as he figured that you just cared about your appearance and wanted to maintain a certain image

however, once he was made aware that you didn’t want to maintain your image but rather, change it - he never let you murmur anything nasty about yourself under your breath ever again, not without proceeding to tackle you to the ground and shower you with his love, affection & praise 💞💕❤

and he never made a ‘second place’ joke ever again, he started his honesty streak by reassuring you that you’ll always be the number one in his eyes 🤩

also, after that, he was a lot more open about his own insecurities with you and you made sure to respect them and help him in a similar way that he did

there is just so much love and admiration between the two of you and at first you were both to shy to express it but now, you both are showering each other in compliments 24/7 bc you both just want the other one to know how perfect you view them as (❁´◡`❁)

Atsumu Miya

atsumu is a hypeman like oikawa but...better :)

IT’S BC HE HAS NO SHAME

he’ll compliment you on anything you wear and he makes it a point to use the most inappropriate compliment as possible, relative to the outfit you’re wearing

so if you’re wearing your pyjamas, he’ll call you ‘glamourous’

if you are wearing a swimsuit, he’ll call you ‘elegant’

if you’re in your work clothes/school uniform, he’ll call you ‘sexy’

and if you’re in lingerie, he’ll call you ‘adorable’

but it makes you blush so hey, no complaints

so when he finds out that you’re actually insecure about your weight, he’s just like ‘no ❤’

like he hates the idea that when you look in the mirror, you don’t see the god(dess) he sees

like why? it’s the same person

💞 fuck ‘perception’ 💞

💕 ‘beauty is in the eye of the beholder’ TF YOU ARE THE FUCKING BEAUTY💕

grrr he was so mad  

but he was also soft 

he was like ‘if (y/n) insecure? then why hot? then why pretty? then why fit perfectly into my arms?’

plus, THIGHS

he’d never diss a person bc they had small thighs or anything BUT he’d also NEVER complain about being given the chance to be with someone with some good thighs 👍

tbh the best could do to help was compliment you ten times harder to eliMINATE ALL YOUR INSECURIES 

(and ofc i don’t mean that in a way - for example - if you’re insecure about your nose, he’ll fkn chop it off......he won’t chop your nose off LMAO he’ll just show you how much he loves it, to the point where you have no choice but to love it too ( •̀ ω •́ )✧ )

anyway, plz love (or at least, tolerate) yourself or else he’ll suffocate you with all his love and affection :D

Osamu Miya

osamu is at a loss when it comes to typical beauty standards tbh

to him, weight (and most things) are similar to..hand size, for example

just like how you can’t imagine someone feeling self-conscious about the size of their hand (especially if their hand is a healthy size) 

he can’t imagine why some one would be shamed for their weight (especially if they’re a healthy size)

so had no idea you could possibly be insecure about something like that and he probably on realised after a few years in the relationship 😅

there was a formal event coming up and y’all were going as dates so you wanted to shop for outfits together 

as couples do ✌

anyway, he was on a dress site, scrolling away until you pointed out one that you thought was pretty - and it matched the color of the tie osamu bought too!

it was a fair price (for a formal dress 🙄 which is probably like $68/50) so osamu was like ‘buy it then ( •̀ ω •́ )✧’  bc he thought it would so gorgeous on you 

but you were like ‘no’

and after he pried further, you explained how you thought it wouldn’t ‘suit your body type’ 

GRRR HE dislikes IT WHEN PPL SAY THIS SO MUCH BC HOE YOU DON’T HAVE A BODY TYPE YOU’VE GOT A BODY 😡💕 WEAR THE DAMN DRESS IF IT MAKES YOU FEEL BEAUTIFUL 

but like deadass it’s not your blood type-  it’s just a thing ppl made up to make ppl (mostly women) feel bad about themselves for no reason

but that might just be his inner atsumu talking 🤷‍♂️

he didn’t even know what to say at first- he was just like ????? body type ????

but once he figured out what you meant, he still had no idea what to say- at least, without sounding rude

what if someone came up to you and told you they were insecure about the shape of their knee.......what do you even say???

so he was silent for like the rest of the day

you decided to give him some space just in case something happened which had upset him

he had no idea what to say, in all honesty, so he hoped that his actions spoke louder than words 

around 3 days had passed since you last spoke to osamu and you were beginning to think something you had said made him uncomfortable

you were studying in your room until there was a ring at your door so you rushed downstairs and you opened it to reveal a package sitting on your doormat

you had recently ordered some cleaning equipment so you were sure that the content of the package was probably that

so imagine your surprise when you tear it open to reveal  — you guessed it —  the dress 💕

Rintarō Suna

when he says that he doesn’t care what ppl look like, he means it

he upkeeps his own appearance though bc..it’s his!

like why would he care about what weight you are? that’s none of his business

as you can tell, he’s generally not shallow but sometimes when y’all are just cuddling and your face is pressed to his chest, the words ‘you’re so cute’ just fall from his lips

so ofc he appreciates compliments over his skills, personality, humour etc over flattery about his appearance 

hence, the praise he gives you is usually based around those things too bc he just thinks that you’re just like him in the fact you don’t appreciate skin-deep comments

so when he found out that you’re actually insecure about your weight (or something else), he kinda blames himself

he thinks that the whole reason you’re not extremely confident in your appearance is all due to him and the fact he fact he maybe didn’t compliment you on your looks enough  — but that’s not to say that he doesn’t think you’re beautiful 

you’re the most radiant person he’s ever laid his eyes on and he thought you knew that regardless of whether he vocalised it or not

he wasn’t really sure what to do tbh

bc he loved you and wanted to comfort you ofc but he was scared of making things worse

like what if something he says accidentally makes you so upset that you break-up with him 😭

but he knew he couldn’t just stay silent about the issue, especially when he wanted to say to much

thus, he sent you a heartfelt message on discord 

(rather than snap, whatsapp etc so he could edit it after he posts it bc knowing him, he’ll probably write something, reread it ten times then as soon as he hits send, he spots a bunch of mistakes)

and he’d explain how you’re simply divine regardless of your insecurity and if anything, it just makes you cuter 😍

ok ok so i really don’t want it so seem like he has a fetish bc HE DOESN’T 

but he think your curves are so fun and pretty ❤ 

like everything about you is pretty but suna just can’t comprehend why you’re insecure about something like your weight when he literally adores it (bc he adores everything about you) 

#haikyuu x plus size reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #tsukishima x you #atsumu x you #osamu fluff #oikawa hcs #suna rintaro fluff #tsukishima scenarios #atsumu x reader #osamu hcs #suna x y/n #oikawa x reader #haikyuu atsumu #atsumu x y/n #osamu x you #suna x you #suna x reader #tsukishima headcanons #oikawa headcanons #osamu x reader #suna imagines #tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima fluff #atsumu fluff

[nikethestatue]

La Dolce Vita

Part II

On the Wings of Desire

Warnings: Language

(I had to split this chapter into two because it was getting too long. Hence, no sexy times, but angst galore) Comments and reblogs and likes are always appreciated! Let me know what you think. 

Chapter One is here

Two Years Ago

 Azriel

 Azriel pulled up to the flower shop.

There was a surprise that he wanted to share with Elain, and like a young boy on his first date, he was both excited and nervous. But he hoped that she’d like it. Funny how he still got a little nervous with her, exuberant even.

It’s been three months since they’ve met and he loved every minute that they’d spent together. The nature of their relationship was a little undefined, but he didn’t care. So what if they weren’t ‘dating’? So there weren’t official dinners and outings, to show only the best part of each other to one another? They moved beyond that right away. They simply loved being together. It was inexplicable, how quickly it happened, how easy it was between the two of them, but Azriel could never get enough of Elain.

He came to her shop whenever he wanted, helped her out, hung out with her, and she went to the garage to meet him. If he was busy and couldn’t meet with her, she closed her shop for lunch, and brought him a sandwich, so they could eat together. He loved it, even if he actually had a restaurant and a bar on premises and she technically didn’t need to buy him food. But there was something special about her coming up the stairs to his office, dressed in one of her cute, flowery dresses and heels. Every time it was a different sandwich, a different drink and a different snack—sometimes a cookie, or good chocolate, or weird chips, or a full-on pastry with cream and ganache and whatnot. He developed a strange fascination with his lunch options, never knowing what it would be and eagerly anticipating it.

Sometimes, he took her on long rides—one of their favourite past times. If he knew that she was up to her eyeballs with orders, since this was summer and it seemed like everyone was getting married, he would bring her takeout to the shop, and they’d sit and arrange flowers until the wee hours. When things calmed down, and there was a quiet evening ahead, she usually invited him to come and eat at her place. They cooked together, drank wine, and then went for a walk.

They haven’t had a kiss yet.

Did it bother him? He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t dream of Elain all the time, of her supple, soft body, of how she’d look naked, of how she’d feel when he filled her, what sounds she’d make, what her face would look like when she climaxed around him? Was she a screamer? A beggar? Was she loud or quiet and shy?

She never spoke of her past boyfriends, so he had no idea of how many men she’s been with. Secretly, he hoped that it wasn’t too many. Maybe it was some male thing, but the idea of her with another man, the thought of someone else touching her, making her moan, making her love—it didn’t please him at all. He thought that he was more modern, more advanced in his thinking—and usually he was—but in this case, he was struggling with accepting Elain wrapped around some other male.

 Surprisingly, even though it wasn’t even 6 pm yet, the flowers that usually spilled outside the shop were not gracing the pavement and the shop looked closed for the day. But Azriel went and knocked on the glass door anyway, seeing as there was some light coming from Elain’s office in the back. There was no response, but he knocked even harder, almost banging, until he heard Elain’s muffled voice yelling, “we are closed!”

“Laney, open up! It’s me!”

A few moments later, Elain appeared in the darkness and then the door opened.

And his jaw almost dropped.

She stood in front of him, wearing a slinky, satin, cobalt dress that looked almost like lingerie. Of modest length, it nevertheless emphasized her breasts very enticingly: soft and full, and pushed together just enough to create a hint of delicious cleavage. A simple set of glittering silver chains nestled seductively in that yummy valley between her breasts. One bare foot was clad in a strappy silver sandal, while she held the other, and jumped awkwardly on one foot, balancing herself on the doorframe. Her hair was curled and arranged over one naked shoulder.

He struggled to keep his breath from whooshing loudly.

“Whoa…”

“Hi Az,” she sounded…uncomfortable.

“Hey you. Hot date?” he chuckled, eyes gliding from her pretty toes up to her eyes.

Her throat bobbed and she didn’t answer.

Shit.

He fought the urge to cross his arms on his chest. But then he’d look threatening, towering over her, much like his father did when he was in one of his moods. Azriel swore to himself long ago to never, ever cross his arms with women.

“I didn’t think you’d be coming over,” she began, voice wobbling.

“So, you figured that you could sneak out?” he spat unkindly.

“I am not sneaking out!” she snapped, flushed and defiant. “I am going out,”

“With whom?” he demanded.

He and Elain had never fought. Never even disagreed.

They laughed together. They joked and discussed. They argued over books and movies. They talked about design, food and travel, places they wanted to visit, and things they wanted to see. Elain randomly texted him names of 3 and 2 Michelin star restaurants from all over the world, telling him where she wanted to dine, why, and eagerly opining on the menus.

Elain was his.

His little foodie, who was a fearless eater, and sampled just about everything and anything.

Elain was his.

His little art lover, who had a surprisingly wide breadth of knowledge of painting, art history and strong opinions on artists and styles. When he found out that she adored Balthus and that Egon Schiele was her favourite artist of all time, his respect for her only increased.

Elain was his.

His little intellectual, who read Anna Akhmatova’s poetry, listened to Alain Elkann’s podcast, and who could easily talk about the history of Lamborghini or Aston Martin, and Formula 1, just to satisfy him.

What the fuck was this?

Why was his Elain going on some date with another man?

Anger rose in him so quickly; he had a difficult time stopping his hands from shaking. So, he clasped them behind his back.

“It’s none of your business,” she said coldly. “I don’t have to report to you who I am going out with,”

“You don’t?” he demanded absurdly.

“No, I don’t!”

“Please tell me who he is?” he decided on a different approach. His brain was working furiously, trying to dissuade her, yet not anger her, yet find out as much information as possible.

“No!” she shook her head stubbornly. “Why do you even care?”

Why did he care? WHY did he care?

He couldn’t have been misreading all the signs. He couldn’t have been misreading her interest, her acceptance, her want.

There was no doubt in his mind that she wanted him—emotionally, as a friend, as a partner, as a lover. Reading people was his job, his calling, and he’d never been wrong. He certainly wasn’t wrong with Elain—she was an open book to him. He didn’t need to evaluate her reactions to his company to know that she was absolutely enthralled with him.

So why this?

Was it something he did? There were no hints of anything amiss the last time they’d seen each other. They were at her place, they cooked Italian together—spaghetti and clams—and he opened a bottle of Petilia Greco di Tufo, a pure, harmonious white from Campania. Then they went to the rooftop—their favourite place—and watched the city, enjoying gelato and playing cards.

Squeezing his hands behind his back, he demanded, “Has he been vetted?”

“Vetted? Vetted?” she exclaimed incredulously. “Who is going to be doing this vetting?”

She stared at him and bit out,

“I don’t like this side of you. This is crazy behaviour,”

“Why? Because you are going on a date? Suddenly. Unexpectedly.”

At that, she blushed furiously, squirming under his heavy, icy gaze.

He continued, “And with some guy you refuse to tell me anything about. Have you told Cass?”

“What? What exactly is Cass? My father?”

“Cass runs security for,”

“I know what Cass does!” she cried, looking furious, but also uncomfortable. Insecure. Anxious. “But I am not telling him. Leave me alone. I am not telling anyone,”

“Not even Nesta? Elide?” he demanded. “And what if something happens?”

“What’s going to happen?!” she asked nervously.

Nothing.

Probably nothing.

He was being an overbearing creep, but he couldn’t stop.

He needed to know. And yes, he wanted her to be safe.

“Who knows?” he shrugged menacingly. “He is unvetted. No one knows anything about him. Have you even Googled him?”

She blushed.

That’s a no.

“Unless you tell me his name, I am not leaving,” he warned. “I need to know who you are going to be with.”

“I am not telling you.”

“Fine,” he propped himself against the door. “We’ll just stand here.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

The standoff continued for another few minutes, until, exasperated, she blurted,

“His name is Dorian!”

“Dorian. As in Dorian Gray?”

She rolled her eyes. “How funny.”

He took out his phone and asked, “Does Dorian have a last name?”

“Are you seriously going to Google him?”

“Absolutely I will. Since you didn’t.”

“I am not telling you.”

“Fine,” he shrugged. “I’ll await Dorian’s arrival and have a man-to-man talk with him,”

She paled.

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Watch me.”

She glared at him, and then sneered, “Why don’t you invite Lorcan too! And Rowan. So the three of you can stand here, in your freaky silent vigil and glare at him, to scare him off.”

“Good idea.”

She shrugged, “And when Dorian comes here, you three can tower over him.”

“Why? Is he tiny?” Azriel snorted.

She rolled her eyes and then thrust her foot into her other heel, finally. As she tied it around her ankle, she muttered angrily, “so disappointed in you,”

“Get in line,” he snapped.

“Adarlan,”

“What?”

“His last name is Adarlan.”

Azriel immediately typed the name into the phone.

A pretty white boy. Columbia. Pre-law.

Figures.

Of course, someone like that would want someone like Elain. And she’d want him in return. Pretty, proper. Pathetic.

“Satisfied?” she rose to her full height. Her cheeks were flushed, brown eyes gleaming with anger and challenge.

She was so beautiful and so annoyed with him, Azriel was blinded by her, by her light, her spirit.

“Not for a while,” he said blandly and shrugged.

That made her redden. Not the blush of anger. Her sexy blush.

So, he went for it.

“Call it off,” he begged.

“What?”

“Call it off. Please.”

“Why?”

Because you are mine.

He wanted to tell her. To explain.

But did he deserve her? All that light and goodness? Perhaps, pretty boy Dorian was indeed more appropriate.

“Because,” he began and then heard a car pull up behind him.

Steps.

He didn’t turn around.

“Elain.”

“Dorian.”

Her face lit up with a smile.

“Ready?”

She nodded. “Just let me grab my bag.”

When she disappeared, Azriel turned around at last.

Dorian was good looking, tall, thin. Young. Looked like a kid, though Azriel figured that he wasn’t much younger than him. But Azriel’s lived about 540 years by now…at least that’s how it felt, and Dorian—Dorian probably had many girlfriends, many friends, and daddy’s money.

He was about as interesting as a bag of beans.

They stared at each other.

Azriel didn’t give a shit.

He didn’t care about anything, other than this is what Elain chose. This Dorian may end up holding Elain’s hand. Perhaps going in for a kiss. That sensuous weak mouth may touch Elain’s perfect lips—the lips that Azriel only dreamt of kissing. And what if it went further?

What if,

No.

No.

Elain was not a ‘first date sex’ kind of girl. Never. Not his Elain.

“Treat her well,” he growled a warning.

Dorian blinked.

“What?”

“Treat. Elain. Well.”

“Who are you?”

“Consider me her brother-in-law.”

“Oh. Okay. Alright. Sure, man. Yeah.”

Fucking intellectual powerhouse.

“I am one of many,”

“Many what?” Dorian asked in confusion.

“Many brothers-in-law. And they all look like me. Some are even bigger.”

“Ready?!” Elain chirped.

“Um, yeah,” Dorian’s eyes darted back and forth.

Azriel finally gave up and crossed his arms on his chest.

“Have fun you two,” he said sweetly.

“Thank you. I’ll see you at Rhys’s pool party on Saturday,” Elain acted like everything was normal.

“Sure. Bring Dorian along,” Azriel jerked his chin. “We’ll be delighted to have him.”

 Elain

 “He is a charmer,” Dorian finally exhaled once they were inside the car.

She grunted in response.

“Does he have enough tattoos?” he started to reverse. “Oh, look, a Ferrari,”

“It’s his,” she bit the inside of her cheek, glancing quickly at the unmoving figure under the awning.

“His? What is he? A drug dealer?”

“Dorian!” she snapped. She was so on edge, she sat on her shaking hands the moment she buckled up.

“Sorry. Sorry. But really, do you want me to,”

She interrupted,

“What? Are you offering to beat him up?”

“I mean,”

“Dorian. He is a Navy Seal,” she said bluntly. “His bicep is the circumference of my head. His buddies are all pushing 6”7 in height and are all former Navy Seals. I am just saying. You aren’t taking him on.”

Dorian didn’t feel the need to disagree.

 Azriel

 Elain was his home. She was his happy place. His joy.

Her smile made everything better.

When she touched him--his fingers, his cheek—that touch carried more sensual promise than anything he’d ever experienced. And he’d experienced plenty.

Azriel’s only brush with love was when he was 18 and it was right before Morgana fucked Cassian, lost her virginity to him and got pregnant by him. He wondered if that’s what fucked him up, turned him off love for this past decade. Ploughing through endless bodies felt good, though he was usually left with the feeling of residual emptiness and longing. But he accepted it.

Elain though. He didn’t plough into Elain. Never even so much as seen her breast. And yet, his head was filled with her. Images, both erotic and mundane floated through his brain constantly. Elain’s eyes lighting up when he called her ‘baby’. Elain tasting a pastry, in her own special way, sometimes dipping her finger into the cream, and driving him wild. Elain reclining her golden head on the seat of his car, eyes closed. Elain being a little drill master when it came to arranging flowers, absolutely unperturbed by the idea of ordering Rowan and Cassian and Fen around.

That Elain was offering her smile, her time, her attention to that pretty prick Dorian was just intolerable.

If he could, he would actually climb the walls. But Azriel couldn’t climb walls, even if parkour-loving Fenrys would probably teach him how. Therefore, he went back to the shop, where Nuala was just packing up for the day.

“I need your car,” he demanded.

“We are in a garage,” she reminded him reasonably, but nevertheless tossed her keys to him. He caught them with one hand and said, “I owe you one.”

“You owe me like fifty…but who is counting?”

Nuala didn’t know why he needed her car, but she did know that he was beyond pining, at this point. He was in full love mode. As in LOVE. Capital letters, heart palpitations, sleepless nights, acting-like-a-drug-addict LOVE. Who would have thought? Not only that Azriel would fall in love at all, but that it would be with Elain.

Azriel got into Nuala’s ordinary Acura, drove to Elain’s apartment, and kept vigil the very same way she told him he would.

At this point, he didn’t care at all. He sat and waited in his shadows. Waiting like this—he learned this level of patience back in the Navy, during his recon missions—suited him, and his personality. Lorcan and he could sit like this for hours. Days. They weren’t bothered at all. Cassian and Fenrys would whine, complain and bounce like little children.

Shadows were his friends, as they’d always been, since he was a boy and hid from his abusive father. They protected him then, and concealed him now.

Finally, at an acceptable, and slightly boring, 11:23 pm, Dorian’s generic Audi pulled up.

There was no way that either of them would spot him, or assume that he was around.

Dorian opened the door for Elain, and she stepped out. They talked. She smiled. Then laughed.

It all grated on Azriel’s nerves. Go inside! He wanted to shout to her.

Then, Dorian made a move. Azriel tensed, when the pretty boy reached his hand out and ran his knuckles over Elain’s bare shoulder. The hand stopped entirely too close to her breast, as he squeezed her upper arm, holding her close. If Azriel sensed even the tiniest expression of discomfort from her, he’d be flying out of the car in a snap.

They talked some more, that gross hand still resting on Elain’s arm. But then, she opened her arms and Azriel grimaced. No way. No way was she going for a kiss.

And thank all the gods above, but she only hugged him, and not a close hug either—but that awkward, butts-out, shoulders pressed together weird hug. Something males typically gave each other, so careful to avoid any penile interaction. Then she walked to her building and gave Dorian a little wave. He hopped in his car and drove away.

What a prick. Didn’t even wait for her to get inside.

But she stood still, door unopened, keys in her fingers. And then, she peered into the darkness. A long, penetrating gaze. Aimed right at him. Like she saw through the shadows. She looked and looked, and he melted in the shadows, into the darkness of the car.

And then she flipped him off, and walked inside.

 Elain

 Piled into Lorcan’s Range Rover, it was Elain ad Elide, Lorcan and Connall in the car.

It was a nice day for a pool party, for a long drive to the Hamptons, for enjoying the sunshine.

Elain was having none of it.

She hated this idea to begin with—pool parties—which were full of too-rich and affected young people, prancing around in skimpy underwear. The women too perfect. The men, full of unreasonable expectations.

Feyre and Morrigan liked this crap, Cassian too, Aelin—certainly.

All the people with their perfect bodies and big hair and bigger personalities.

This Range Rover was like the car for outcasts.

Lorcan looked like he wanted to be at a pool party as much as he wanted to have a rectal exam. Connall, she was sure, would just sit by the bar and nurse drinks all day long. Elide would always find an escape with Lor, and the two of them would huddle together and make snide comments about the attendees to each other.

Elain sighed.

She was such a stupid, inexcusably dumb, fucking idiot.

“Do you know why Az isn’t coming today?” Lorcan looked at her in the mirror.

“Oh?”

She bit inside of her cheek, stifling a pathetic cry.

It shouldn’t have surprised her that Azriel decided not to attend, but she still harbored hope, somewhere inside of her that he would. That they’d be able to talk. That he’d…

Forgive her?

“No, I don’t know,” she mumbled.

“Did you have a fight or something?” Lorcan’s strange black eyes looked at her like they were scraping the edges of her soul. It wasn’t the most comfortable of feelings.

“No.”

She spent the rest of the trip in sullen silence. Even Elide didn’t try to shake her out of her stupor.

 As expected, the party was ridiculously over the top.

There were throngs of people milling about, all in various stages of undress. Firm, golden flesh gleamed in the sunlight.

There were three bars—one for beer, one for cocktails and one for everything else. An ice cream station. A s’mores station. Wagyu beef sliders. Lobster hot dogs. Jamon Iberico. Wheels of Parmigiano Reggiano.

Deep down, Elain was grateful that she’d never be this wealthy.

She was happy with her flowers, her shop, and she was considering opening a pastry shop down the road. And then Azriel had his wonderful garage, but successful as it was, it wasn’t on the Darling level of wealth…And that was alright. It was perfectly enough, too much even,

She stopped.

She should’ve just told him. Everything. A long time ago. But the intensity of her own feelings towards him frightened her, and then…she fucked it all up.

She meandered absently around the premises, listening to Feyre’s and Nesta’s screeching from the pool, where both were perched on the shoulders of their respective lovers, whacking each other and others with long plastic poles. Mor and her new girlfriend were making out passionately in a hammock. Fenrys was swarmed by a bevy of busty beauties. And so on…

She was feeling foolish and exposed in her pink bikini, wishing she had a wrap or something. Her body was no worse than all of these other girls’, but she couldn’t help but compare herself to them. They were confident. Exciting. Entertaining. They flirted and laughed loudly. They had sparkly teeth and giant lips.

She didn’t know how to flirt, and wasn’t glamorous or polished like them.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing here all alone? Without a drink?”

A man sidled over, his bold eyes roaming about her body, assessing.

“I am fine, thank you,” she made to get away and walk towards the pool, but he thrust an insistent hand in front of her, holding a drink.

“Come on, sugar. Join me.”

Sugar?

And then, there were four of them. Five.

None were threatening, but being surrounded by so many men, while basically naked was outside of Elain’s comfort zone. They were joking, laughing, chugging their beers. She didn’t know any of them.

“So, who are you?” asked one of them.

“A guest.”

She angled her body towards the pool, trying to sneak past them.

“A guest? We are guests too! Nice party,”

“It is. Pardon me, I have to go,”

“But why?”

One of them caught her hand in his and pulled lightly, grounding her in place.

“Excuse me!” she attempted to withdraw her hand, but he didn’t budge. They herded her a little closer to the house. A sixth man approached, carrying a little tray with tequila shots.

“Where do you got to go, baby?”

Another hand slipped down her back and brushed over her butt, making her jerk.

“What the hell?” she hissed, but her indignation was met with amused smiles.

“Such a pretty girl, all alone. Come, join us,”

“I am not alone!” she snapped angrily.

“Oh no?”

“And who are you with?”

“My fucking boyfriend!” she lied, a little scared now.

“Oh, a boyfriend?” teased one. “And who might that be?”

“Do we know this boyfriend? Where is he?”

She looked around desperately, and then lied again, “He is inside. And coming back, soon.”

Laughter.

“Ohh, I don’t think so. I’ve been watching you for an hour, and there is no boyfriend.”

“I think I need to go,”

“But why!?!”

They goaded, “Tell us about the boyfriend?”

“His name is Azriel Bagarat,” she blurted out.

More laughter. Challenging, condescending laughter.

“Really?”

“Mr. Fancy Garage is your boyfriend?”

“Good one! I almost fell for it.”

“Azriel Bagarat-I-date-a-new-girl-weekly makes for a bad boyfriend, honey,”

“You aren’t exactly his type.”

Tears threatened to pour out of her eyes, and she was horrified by her body’s reaction to the taunting.

She threw, “and what type is that?”

“He doesn’t go for squeaky clean girls like you.”

“Maybe it’s an experiment!” laughed one of them. “He is into all sorts of fucking kink. Maybe he is wetting his cock in some virgin flesh,”

“Are you even legal?”

“You look awfully young.”

At this point, Elain was not above screaming for Lorcan, or Rowan, or anyone else. Her looking weak and pathetic was the least of her concerns.

For a moment, the teasing and the laughter died down. One of them exclaimed, “Oh hey. There you are!”

Fuck. Another one.

The scent hit her first. The sharp, intoxicating smell of his expensive Armani cologne. She’d recognize it anywhere. That hint of cedar and a chilled night air. That was him. Her home.

And then, the familiar dark arm slipped across her stomach, tugging her firmly to his front. Another hand slid to her throat, laying on it, but not squeezing. He held her tenderly, close to him, possessively.

“I missed my girl,” he whispered, his gravelly, husky voice so familiar to her ear it sent a shiver down her spine.

Why couldn’t it be like this forever? Her in his arms? Forever?

“My gorgeous girlfriend always brings all the boys to the yard,” he chuckled. And then, to Elain’s utter delight and pleasure, he placed a warm, open mouthed kiss on the side of her neck.

She shuddered.

He’d never kissed her. Never intimately. Never kissed her like this.

His. She was his. And he just marked his territory.

It was glorious. To be kissed by him was something that she’d dreamt of and here it was—unexpected, sensuous, surprisingly erotic.

His thumb stroked the side of her throat, and then he leaned in and kissed her again. Same spot. Her bare vulnerable throat, her pale neck, his for the taking. She had no control of the situation, and she loved it.

“Thank you for keeping my girlfriend company, gentlemen, but I’ll take it from here.”

Not so brave anymore, in the face of this towering mass of muscle and tattoos, the men sheepishly offered him a shot, which he knocked back and then even attempted to high-five him, though he drew the line at that.

As they scampered away, Azriel did not release Elain from his embrace. She just stood there, with his arm around her, her body pressed into his almost-naked body and all she wanted was to turn around and peek. Or have him kissed her again. She really, really wanted him to kiss her again.

He did not though.

Finally, his arm fell away and he stepped back, causing a sorrowful sigh to erupt in her chest.

She turned around. His face was unreadable, as always, and though she picked out his little tells and signs of emotions now, she couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

“Thank you,” was all she could mutter. He didn’t answer. “I didn’t think you were coming,”

“No need to talk,” he cut her off. Then turned around and added, “feel free to leave with Lorcan or Cass.”

He was walking away when she called out, “Wait. Az. I want to talk. Please,”

“No,” he said simply.

She ran after him, trying to keep up with his long stride.

“Az, please, I need to,”

“It’s Azriel to you,” he corrected bluntly. “You don’t get to ‘Az’ me,”

She swallowed, tears stinging her eyes.

“Okay…okay,” she begged. “Azriel, I want to explain, please,”

“You don’t always get what you want,” he threw back.

She paused, but then added,

“But sometimes, you get what you need.”

A tiny smile twitched on his lips. But he schooled his face into neutrality and without turning to her, said,

“If you must tag along for the rest of the day, pretending like you are my girlfriend, it’s up to you,” he shrugged indifferently.

She didn’t care. At least he didn’t send her away. At least, she could be near him, and with time, she’d thaw his anger.

She followed him silently, like dog. Trying to be inconspicuous, but she stayed at his side, even if they didn’t talk and he continuously ignored her. It allowed her time to ogle his incredible body, which she did with relish and without shame. If he was going to be nasty to her, she at least would feast her eyes on all that muscular gorgeousness. Those Cadre men—they were all stunning, at least when it came to their physiques. Azriel, though, was a little more stunning than the others. Only Fenrys, perhaps, was at the same level of attractiveness.

They went to the bar and she followed him faithfully, not letting him out of her sight. He glanced at her, sighed, shaking his head with annoyance, but Azriel being Azriel, he ordered her a mojito, while he drank Sipsmith London Gin and tonic, and after a while, thrust the drink in her hand and muttered, “I am going swimming.”

She took it and sat on a chair, stiff-backed and patient, watching him.

When he emerged from the water, she was waiting for him with a fresh drink.

“Your tattoos look like wings.”

He rubbed a towel over the black and blue tattoos on his shoulders and arms and looked at her.

“Your tattoos,” she said again, watching his wet body and the markings on it come alive on his skin. When he was in the pool, and his arms rose and fell in the water, they looked like wings. “They look like wings. Bat wings.”

“Is that a compliment?” his voice was still cold, bored.

“Yes.”

She handed him his drink and then took his scarred hand in hers. He made to pull away, but she squeezed.

“You are my boyfriend,” she reminded him. “Would be strange if you didn’t want to hold my hand.”

He had no choice but to grip her hand back,

and fuck if it didn’t feel nice.

Two days, and he was going nuts without that little hand. Two days, and he’d missed her touch like it was his life’s necessity.

And then, she gently rubbed her thumb over his own.

“Stop that,” he ordered.

“No,” she said flatly.

“Elain,”

“Azriel,”

“It’s not going to work,” he warned.

She shrugged, “we’ll see.”

They took a few more steps, her thumb still stroking his fingers, and then he stopped abruptly.

“What do you want?”

She looked up at him and said, voice surprisingly firm, “I want to get into your car and drive home with you. I want to cook you dinner. I want to hold your hand. That’s what I want.”

“And what do I want?”

“You want the same thing,” she assured him, unusual confidence in her voice and on her face.

He watched her, unblinking, but she did not balk from his assessing gaze, did not step back. She just clutched his hand like life depended on it. His jowls twitched and he bit his lip, before says, “go and put some clothes on. We are going home.”

“No. Come with me,” she tugged him with her. “I don’t trust you.”

He smiled, at last, and her heart fluttered with joy at the sight of that magical smile.

They found their clothes, threw them atop the bathing suits and as soon as they were dressed, Azriel took her by the hand and led her out to the parking lawn. It was a Maserati Ghibli today, beautifully embellished with subtle pinstripes. No one would dare do this to their 90K car, but Azriel did. And it looked stunning.  

 The drive wasn’t comfortable.

He still wasn’t speaking to her and she just sat there, for an hour or more, in silence, hands on her lap.

Finally, once they began approaching the city, Elain asked, “where are you taking me?”

“Home,” was all he said, his first word since they got in the car.

She thought and said, “I don’t want to go home.”

His voice mocking and obsequious, he asked, “Please tell me, Elain, where should your personal Uber take you? Would you like a coffee? A snack? A walk in the park? A trip to the library? Should I deliver you into Dorian’s loving embrace?”

“Stop it,” she snapped at him, all red and angry. “Stop with all that!”

Azriel plowed forth, ignoring her command, “where was he today, by the way? Why was I stuck rescuing the damsel in distress? Where is brave Dorian?”

“Nobody asked you to rescue me!” she lied, suddenly realizing that maybe, that kiss meant nothing to him. That it was all for show.

“Yeah, you looked like you were handling that situation very well,” he decided dryly.

“You know,” she folded her arms on her chest, “do take me home.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

Once they entered the city proper, Azriel fought the traffic aggressively, swearing under his breath more frequently than usual, obviously intend on getting rid of her as soon as possible.

She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t break through. Couldn’t get to him, not around the walls that he’d constructed around himself. She thought that she could, but she was wrong.

Finally, they were coming towards her block.

The silence was stifling. Unbearable.

���Why did you do it?” he blurted suddenly.

She looked at him, but before she could offer any explanations or excuses, he continued, not looking at her, “Was I not enough? Was he better?”

“He is nothing,” she managed, desperation tinging her voice, her whole being. She reached out to touch him, but he jerked his arm away.

“Don’t,” he warned. “Nothing? Why would you do this, Elain? Was I not enough? Too weird? Too brown? Too low-born? Too fucked up?”

Elain stared at him in horror. She was numb. Words failed her.

He was shaking his head.

There was true sadness, dejection written on his face. Devastation.

“I was falling in love with you, Elain,” he said so softly, she barely heard the words. “For three months, I’ve been falling in love with you. I’ve loved everything about you. I knew that the hammer would drop…One day, it would drop because it’s not like this could ever be,” he made a wide gesture with his hand.

He stopped the car next to her house.

“But I thought that it would be me. That I’d fuck up somehow and you’d dump me. Which would be…expected…”

He sighed, his breath so ragged it sounded like a sob.

“But I didn’t expect this. Truly. Though looking back, I don’t know why I didn’t?” he shrugged. “That’s what Mor did—the only other one I thought that I loved. But we were young and stupid, so…” he was looking out the window, seemingly talking to himself, not to her anymore. “But now I am almost thirty and for once, I thought that maybe, just maybe, this one time, I’d get what I want.”

Elain was weeping silently, fat tears pouring onto her hands, dripping off her face.

“I wanted you more than anything, Elain.”

Elain. Elain. Elain.

She hated that he called her Elain.

She hated that he didn’t use his usual endearments with her, that she was no longer his ‘baby’ nor his ‘love’. She wasn’t his ‘gorgeous’ or his ‘beautiful’. She was just Elain.

There was no warmth in his voice. Only some kind of hollowed emptiness, instead of the usual teasing smirk, the undercurrent of humour and love, of tender softness that he always used with her. Only with her.

“You can have me,” she managed finally through her sobs. “You can ha--…”

He finally turned his head and looked at her, that gaze dark and pitiless.

“I am not sure I want you anymore. We’ll coordinate the wedding situation and we’ll be civil to each other, for Feyre and Rhys’s sakes. Goodbye Elain.”

She sat there. He waited. Then, with a groan, he got out and went to open the door for her.

As she stepped out of the car, she begged one more time, “Azriel. Please. Please just allow me the opportunity to talk to you,” she wiped her face, with her fist.

It destroyed him completely.

He didn’t know what to do with himself, as he tracked her movement, that childish, simple, raw flick of her fist over her eyes. It wasn’t the modelled, reserved, dab-the-eye practiced move that you saw on reality shows, the fake tears, the faux sadness.

This was Elain; sorrowful, devastated, begging.

“Please,” she pleaded again.

“I asked you to call it off,” he reminded her. “I begged you. You didn’t.”

She choked on a sob.

“You threw it in my face, Elain. This random man, whom you also led on, by the way. Led him believe that you were interested. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I am too old for this…Allow me the opportunity to just deal with this break up—or whatever it is—however I can. We both need to move on.”

He’d never left a crying woman on a sidewalk.

But he’d also never been in love before. And his heart had never been broken like this.

 ********************

 Azriel

 Nuala Gennaro has been trying to reach her boss for three days, to no avail.

He didn’t respond to texts, or to calls. He didn’t show up to work. He wasn’t at the garage, at the tattoo shop, or his design studio. He didn’t seem to be home either, because she drove by his loft a few times and the windows remained dark.

She had keys to his house, but that was a violation of privacy that she didn’t feel like engaging in just yet. Was this an emergency? He gave her the key for ‘emergencies’. Was this one? A healthy, 29-year-old handsome man disappearing for three days didn’t seem like an emergency, but still, Nuala was concerned.

She was going to give him one more day, and if he was still AWOL then she’d begin to worry.

Azriel was responsible. Whatever was happening in his life typically did not reflect on his work ethic. Besides, he was usually so guarded and seemingly unemotional, it was hard to say if he was affected by anything. Nuala had met him in high school—a beautiful, quiet, mysterious boy who looked like a fallen angel and who seemed unusually confident and astute for his age.

They reconnected after he and his brothers returned from the Navy. He was darker and quieter than she remembered, and hardened in his manner and bearing, and had a haunted look in his eyes which worried Nuala for quite some time. She’d been apprenticing as a tattoo artist and they’d met to discuss her joining his venture. She wasn’t sure if this whole garage/restaurant/tattoo parlour for rich people thing was going to be feasible or even realistic, but Azriel believed in the concept and somehow, got her enflamed by his passion as well. They’d slept together over the years, but even if she would have wanted more, he wasn’t willing to give it to her. Azriel went through women with the determination to conquer, mild interest and lack of follow up. But he never gave any of himself to them. Pleasure—yes. Self—no. So, Nuala had decided—staying with him and in his life, in his business, as his protégé and associate was more important than having him as a lover, even if he was by far the best lover she’d ever had.

The only thing that did seem to affect him—deeply, powerfully—was Elain Archeron.

Nuala didn’t think that it would happen. Didn’t think that Azriel was a man to fall in love so passionately, so completely, and even if he was denying it to himself, Nuala knew him well enough to know the truth. And whatever happened between him and Elain, approximately a week ago or so, truly devastated him.

Prior to his disappearance, he operated as if he was in some sort of fog. He answered questions, he gave instructions and directions, he did whatever was expected of him—met with clients, held meetings with his car suppliers, negotiated deals—but his heart was not in it. His beloved business was no longer his priority, and that confounded Nuala, for she had never seen him like this before.

She arrived early, earlier than usual, because she needed to get crackin’. Without Azriel, things seemed…tighter…more difficult. She’d never noticed it, but somehow, he carried this business, made it seem easy, and she falsely believed that it was a walk in the park. Gods, it wasn’t! It was busy, and difficult, and required constant attention and decision making, and reports only piled on her desk—financials, inventory, guest lists, requests, specs. It was endless.

Azriel’s office, a glass cube perched at the top of the building and overlooking everything below, the entire operation, was very dimply lit this early morning. Cassian installed one-way floor to ceiling windows in the office, so no one could look inside, but Azriel was able to see everything, if he so desired.

Nuala climbed the industrial-style stairs and opened the door without knocking.

At first, she thought that there was a fire. The office was entirely engulfed in smoke, but before she could hit the alarm button, nauseatingly pungent stench of tobacco assaulted her nostrils.

“What the hell?!” she exclaimed, rubbing her eyes, and rushing to open the outside windows. She left the door open as well, to encourage some sort of ventilation.

“What the hell,” she muttered again, finally making out Azriel in the dimness, who was sprawled on the leather sofa, in jeans and boots and a black t-shirt, his arm hanging listlessly to the floor, a cigarette between his fingers. On the floor, an almost empty bottle of Jameson’s and an overflowing ashtray, stuffed to the brim with butts. Tom Waits’s insanely gravelly, bourbon-and-tobacco-soaked voice filled the space as well.

“Wow,” she crossed her arms on her chest. “Wow.”

“Why are you here so early?” he asked by way of greeting.

“Funny thing—my boss disappeared for three days. Four days, actually. No word. No text. No call. No email. No warning. No idea whether he is dead or alive. So yes, it’s made for some early mornings for some of us.”

No answer.

He took a deep drag of his cigarette and said nothing.

“What the fuck, Az?”

“Like you said,” he shrugged indifferently, “I am the boss. I don’t have to report to anyone.”

Nuala bit her lip, but did not retort in the way she wanted to retort.

“Where were you?” she inquired calmly.

“Vegas.”

“Vegas?”

“Rhys’s Bachelor Party.”

“Oh.”

“I won money. It’s somewhere,” he glanced around absently. “Give it to some charity…”

“Which one?”

“I don’t care.”

“Fine.”

She didn’t push him. But added, “you can’t smoke here.”

“It’s my shop,”

“Even though. State and city regulations.”

He put out his cigarette compliantly.

“It’s 5 am. When did you start drinking?” she asked, pointing to the bottle.

He gave a lazy glance and shrugged,

“Technically, I didn’t stop drinking…It’s been a few hours…”

She was shaking her head.

He stared into the ceiling blindly, wordlessly.

Nuala didn’t know, but she also knew. So she took pity on him.

“Az,”

“I’d like to be alone now.”

“I will leave you alone,” she promised. “But…” she let out a whoosh of air, preparing herself. “Elain,”

He didn’t react.

“Elain is downstairs.”

To that he did react. He sat up so quickly, she didn’t track the movement with her eyes.

“I found her on the steps, outside,” said Nuala. “She looks like hell. I barely recognized her.”

“Why is she here?” he asked stupidly.

“I think you should probably ask her that. She wouldn’t come inside,” Nuala explained. “She said that she’s been sitting outside since 4 am, hoping to catch you.”

But Azriel was already out the door, sprinting down the stairs, making Nuala gasp, as he took three at a time, and she feared that he’d fall down on the concrete floor and break every bone in his body.

It was only five in the morning, and the streets, even NYC streets, were empty.

It was drizzling, a summer thunderstorm about to erupt.

Elain was sitting on the doorstep, arms wrapped around her knees, huddling into herself in the morning chill.

“Elain,”

She jumped up and turned to him.

He never saw her like this—wrecked. Utterly devastated. Wilted.

His lovely flower girl, his little rose, his darling beauty—wilted. Instead of her usual colouring of pink and golden, caramel and honey and cream, she looked black and white. Like everything was leeched out of her, every spark, all joy, each remarkable hue.

They did not greet each other. She just looked at him, and,

“I’ve hurt you,” she said, her voice surprisingly steady, the tone firm. “I know that. And you can leave and discard me, and you have every right,”

Azriel just stood there, looking at her, unable to get enough. Thinking that there was a possibility that this was going to be one of their last conversations. And that possibility was unacceptable to him. It was intolerable.

The rain began to fall.

Azriel moved under the awning, angling his body so she would come and stand under it as well, but she didn’t move.

Steady droplets pounded the pavement, giving off that fresh smell of wet asphalt. The air was heavy and humid and felt unsettled, like it was preparing for a torrent.

“But know this one thing,” she continued, staring at him, unblinking, eyes brimming with tears. “I fell in love with you on Saturday, May 9th, at 7:14 in the morning. I had loved you every moment of my life since then. I will love you every moment of my life until I die. Nothing will ever change that. I don’t speak to you as some besotted, inexperienced girl, who is smitten by a handsome man…I speak to you from my soul. You have my heart, Azriel. Every broken and sad piece of me, you’ve managed to put together with your beautiful, scarred hands. I will never ask for anything of you—not even a word back, but I needed you to know this. I want you know that I’ve never loved anyone, no man, no being, not my sisters or my parents, as much as I love you. All my joy, my peace, my dreams are connected to you. You are the first thing I think of when I wake up, and the last when I fall asleep—and then I dream of you. I don’t care if you know this, but I’ve built up my whole life around you in my head, all my fantasies are about you. All I want is to love you. That is all. Not very ambitious, I know,” she wiped the tears that were flooding her face, mixing with the rain, “but I can’t think of anything that would ever bring me more happiness, more satisfaction than to love you. And…” she choked a quiet sob, “if you don’t want me—that is alright…I want you to be happy. And if I don’t make you happy, then, so be it, but,”

Azriel couldn’t help himself. Couldn’t contain his bursting breath, his aching heart. Every bit of him felt electrified, wild, untamed.

He grabbed her, his arm pressing her soaking wet body to him, the rain pouring over them, and she trembled and sobbed next to him. Such indescribable hope in her eyes. That maybe, just maybe, it would all turn out like her fantasies.

He cupped her wet, pale face in his palm and murmured,

“You want me?”

Her trembling fingers traced his cheekbone and she nodded mutely.

“Say it,” he groaned.

“I want you,” she whispered.

“Say more,” he begged. “Say everything.”

“I love you. I choose you. I want you.”

He soaked it all up. Every breath. Every word. Every emotion on her face.

“Well,” he muttered, “if we are keeping score…then I fell in love with you on Tuesday, May 5th, at 4:47 in the afternoon.”

She laughed through her tears, clutching at him with desperate hands, as if fearing that he would disappear. Turn around and leave her.

But he wasn’t going anywhere. Ever.

He was exactly where he wanted to be. Yearned to be all his life.

“First glance, baby,” he lovingly caressed her face, “first glance. Love at first sight.”

She kissed the tips of his fingers.

“You are my home, Elain,” he wrapped his arms around her and held her close to him, her cheek pressed to his chest, his hand cradling her head, “my favourite person in my life. With you, all things are possible. Sometimes, I feel like I can fly. Like I’ve grown wings and I hear the song of the wind. But I think that it’s just your voice in my head. You won’t leave, right?”

She chuckled and shook her head, “No. Never.”

“Because this week,” he shuddered, “it’s like I lost a limb…There was this phantom reminder of you, always within me, and yet, you weren’t there. I couldn’t reach and find you next to me. I’ve never felt such emptiness,” he brought her hand to his chest and lay it on her booming heart, “there was nothing here,” he pressed her hand closer, and she felt the steady beat, “empty…You weren’t with me, and there was nothing left.

“I think I’ve been in love with you—forever. I don’t even believe in past lives or other worlds, but sometimes I feel like I’ve known you for eternity.”

She raised her face to him, surprise and awareness in her red-rimmed eyes,

“I feel the same. Az, I’ve always felt the same thing!”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” she nodded vigorously, “when we held hands the first time, when we just met, I recognized your touch. I knew your scars. It was all familiar to me, like stepping back into my own home, after a long absence. Reacquainting myself with something that I already loved.”

He cupped her face in his hands and asked,

“May I kiss you?”

“You have to kiss me,” she smiled a happy, luminous smile at him. “I’ve waited for a long time for you to kiss me.”

Azriel smiled, and looked up, rain drenching his face and their bodies.

“Are we really going to do this? In the pouring rain?”

She was grinning, smiling happily, nodding, “All the cliches in the world!”

He clasped her jaw in his hand, wrapping his other arm tighter about her.

“I loved when you kissed me at the party,” she admitted, a little breathless.

“Yes?” he murmured and then dipped his head, and gently pressed his lips to her throat.

Elain shuddered against him, her breasts, nicely full, round and soft pressed tightly against his chest, and she sighed her pleasure.

“Like that?” he whispered against her cold, wet skin, and she half-moaned, nodding. So he kissed her neck again, on the other side, raking his teeth gently along the warm, pulsating vein. He kissed along her collarbones, tender and sweet, but with acute intention. Her breasts moved against his chest, their shirts nor her bra providing much of a barrier between his skin and her firm, swollen nipples.

Up her throat he went with his lips, kissing softly, until he pulled away for a moment, their breaths mingling, warm next to each other. He tilted her face just so, to have better access to her full mouth, and then kissed the plump lower lip. She clutched at his shirt and pulled him closer, the rain forgotten, the world encapsulated in his mouth, in the loving pressure of his lips against hers.

Elain looked irresistible. In his arms, where, let’s face it, she belonged, with her cheeks finally, finally taking on the familiar rosy blush.

Azriel, all 6”4 or “5 of the dark, bestial sexiness of him was wrapped around her. The low, sensual purr that he emitted turned into something more primal, hungrier when his mouth moulded into hers. The base, animalistic attractiveness of him, the bronze arms, the thick markings of his tattoos all over his skin, slithering like shadows, was almost too much for Elain to handle all at once, and she moaned, loud, and desperate against his lips. He brushed his nose against her cheek, and then nose to nose, and she was so stupidly needy for him that she struggled to stay upright. He brushed his fingertips over her lips, squeezing them between his and her own, and she licked on the pad of his thumb, laving some of the scars with the tip of her tongue.

Gods, this man could kiss.

Brutal, savage and noble--all amalgamated into one indescribable, unforgettable experience. Hungry and knowing, agonizingly slow, he devoured her mouth like it was some succulent, exotic fruit that he’s been craving. His lips explored her thoroughly, unhurriedly, tasting and savouring, caressing and worshipping. It was she who slipped her tongue inside his mouth, tentatively at first, but then gaining in boldness and confidence, especially once he sucked her in and stroked it with his own. He tasted of something masculine: alcohol, maybe, deep and rich and smokey, and tobacco, certainly, which, surprisingly, she enjoyed, but also something sexual. If Elain ever thought that she could taste passion, this lazy, indulgent sucking of his tongue on hers was exactly that. He groaned into her mouth, low and hot, and then licked on her tongue, with sensual playfulness which she loved.

She was hot in his arms, against his towering, heated body, and even the pouring rain couldn’t cool her off. The slabs of his abdominal muscles pressed into her belly and she was growing positively addicted to having him so close to her, his massive strength enveloping her so nicely, cushioning her against him. Nothing in her life has ever felt so wonderful, so sublime as Azriel felt in her arms.

Their kiss went on and on, heady and glorious, with him exploring every bit of her mouth with his tongue and lips, his hands caressing her body unobtrusively.

“Gods, I want to kiss you for eternity,” he moaned, tearing himself away from her lips at last.

She was panting, glassy-eyed, in love. He squeezed her face between his palms, looking down at her, her happiness, the unabashed joy in her eyes.

He’d finally made someone happy.

“Okay,” she agreed easily.

He smiled and kissed her again, then again, his lips creating a certain magic between his mouth and her skin and their bodies.

Elain had fought for him.

She didn’t give up. Didn’t shrug it all off. Didn’t leave in anger or panic. His absence meant something to her—perhaps, meant more than he could understand. He knew the misery of not having her in his life. It was only a week, but it was a week of pure hell. Now, he assumed that it wasn’t only he who felt that gaping chasm in his heart. She, for some inexplicable reason, loved him. Of that, he was certain.

“Now, I think we’ve satisfied any girl’s quota of romantic cheesiness,” he decided and she laughed, slapping his bicep lightly. He kissed her softly, “and I am taking you inside,” he said.

Elain only now realized that her feet haven’t been touching the asphalt for the duration of the kiss. She was literally floating aboveground, in his arms, in the throes of their first kiss.

The cheesiness quotient has been achieved indeed.

“Will you kiss me more?” she asked, as he swung her in his arms and carried her inside the shop.

“I am confident that I will never stop kissing you,” he assured and made his way up the stairs, to the office, clutching the dripping mess that she was in his arms.

She’s been here before, but he brought her straight into the attached bathroom, which was appointed outlandishly, and with a nice shower too.

“Get in there,” he ordered, “now. Before you catch a cold because of your love for kissing in the rain,”

She giggled, kiss-drunk and toed off her soaking wet converse that smacked limply on the tiled floor.

“But what am I going to wear?”

“My clothes, obviously,” he shrugged. “Unless you don’t want to, which is fine, because naked is just fine by me. Actually, preferred,”

She snickered, but looked at him, a little uncertain, and he rolled his eyes and muttered, “yes, yes, I will leave! Don’t worry. Though you know, I will eventually see everything anyway. So your modesty is misplaced on me.”

Azriel was correct. A hot shower was perfect. Despite it being late August, standing under pouring rain wasn’t as much fun as they made it seem in the movies.

The door opened and he came in, “here is some stuff for you.”

She looked at him over her shoulder, probably a little sultrier than she intended, and he winked, “Nice ass!”

“Ugh, stop looking!” she croaked, but he only laughed.

“You are the one with the bare butt!”

Then, he scratched his chin and bit his lip, making no move to leave.

“Az!” she exclaimed, blushing, but also kind of ��� intrigued.

“This is a very, very, very nice ass,” he muttered to himself, but loud enough for her to hear. Her blush only intensified, when he said, “the things I am going to do with it. Mmmm,” he rubbed his lower lip with his thumb, as if contemplating what he will be doing with her butt and then finally walked out, shaking his head.

When Elain emerged from the bathroom, with her hair wrapped in the towel and wearing Azriel’s t-shirt and shorts, she found him in a leather chair, sipping coffee. He’d also changed and his hair was mussed and damp, his bare feet crossed at the ankles, resting on a leather stool.

“There is coffee for you,” he jerked his chin towards a marble coffee table that had a basket of pastries and two large cups of coffee.

He marked everything.

How she looked in his clothes, which were much too big on her, yet cozy, though the shorts that she wore were hilarious, reaching below her knee.

How she brought him his coffee first, before taking her cup.

How she sat on the stool, by his feet and crossed her legs, before giving him a croissant and biting into her own.

“Have you warmed up?” he asked, sipping his coffee. Chugging gallons of coffee American style wasn’t his thing—he preferred quick, small espressos, but this giant cup did take the chill away.

She nodded.

“Do you want to talk?” he asked.

She tensed right away, and he said, “All is forgiven, I swear. “

She eyed him suspiciously, nevertheless.

He smiled at her, and added, “But...I think that I need to understand what happened? Did I do something to,”

“No!” she exclaimed immediately. “No. It was nothing you did. Never think that it was you,”

“Alright,” he said calmly. “Then what was it?”

She didn’t look up from her cup, running a finger over the rim.

“Talk to me, love,” he encouraged softly.

“You’ve consumed me, Azriel,” she confessed, her voice barely audible. “From the moment I saw you, you’ve consumed me. And I guess…” she sighed, “I was stupid…a stupid, stupid person because I didn’t know,”

“What?”

“Whether I was infatuated, or in love with you. So I thought that maybe, if I expose myself to another man, even in some minor way, I might be able to tell what I feel,”

“And? Did you?”

“Dorian…” she swallowed nervously, “he is a nice guy. He is in Law School with Nesta—that’s how I know him. When he asked to go to dinner, and I said yes,”

She looked up at him, tears threatening to spill out from her eyes,

“And I felt nothing,” she admitted, her voice broken somehow. “I could only think of you. The entire time, I could only think of you and I knew that it wasn’t fair to him…”

Azriel agreed, “probably not”.

“And I knew that I’d made a colossal mistake… But,” she set her cup on the floor and squeezed her fingers. “I…”

She halted. Said nothing else.

Azriel waited.

“What?” he probed, sensing that there was something she wasn’t telling him. He reached for her, but she only shrunk into herself.

“Elain, what is it?” he pressed.

She blushed and murmured, “promise me you won’t leave me, if I tell you.”

His brow furrowed, “Please,” he begged, “tell me what’s going? You are legit scaring me right now.”

“You won’t lea--,”

“Don’t be ridiculous! I am not leaving you, no matter what. But are you alright?”

She pulled her hair from the towel and it spilled over her shoulders, half-obscuring her face. He reached and tucked the wet strands behind her ears, so he could see her face.

“Talk to me, baby,” he urged gently.

She exhaled and then said, looking straight at him,

“I’ve never been with a man, Az.”

He looked at her and then blurted, absurdly, “Like a virgin? But you are so hot!”

She couldn’t help and burst out laughing.

“I guess not hot enough,” she shrugged, a bit more relaxed about the situation now that he seemed relieved and smirking too.

He exhaled, deeply, bubbling his lips, “Phew…I thought it was something,” he shook his head, not able to express his relief. “Important…Something, I don’t know, serious?”

“What would be serious?”

“I don’t even know,” he admitted, “but certainly more serious than a hymen!”

He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips.

“And I appreciate you telling me,” he said seriously, kissing the inside of her hand, but then, that glint in his eyes returned and he asked, “so did you want the hunky Dorian to deflower you?”

She pushed at him with her foot and he fell back dramatically in his chair,

“Auuu, you are so unbelievably violent!” he complained, rubbing his side.

“I can be even more violent!” she threatened.

He was laughing, but then he caught her feet in his hands and squeezed them gently, holding them on his lap.

“So you didn’t have boyfriends in high school? In college?” he asked at last, genuinely perplexed.

She sighed and explained,

“In high school I was dating Luce,”

“You were dating a girl?” his brow furrowed. “I didn’t know,”

She started to laugh,

“No! Luce is a man. Lucien,”

“Oh…Oh. Every time you mentioned Luce, I just assumed he was a she.”

“No, he is my best friend. The closest friend I’ve ever had, besides maybe Nesta. We’ve always been close and then in high school, we began dating,” she tugged on her wet hair, “or rather, go on dates.”

“What’s the difference?”

“I didn’t know either—not in the beginning. But then, when we were juniors in 11th grade, he came out, to me only.”

“Ahhh,”

“Lucien’s step-father is really horrible. Like, awful. Physically abusive to all his sons, and always fancied himself this alpha male. So for Lucien to come out to him would have been suicide.

“We agreed that we’d continue our ‘dating’, until we graduate, and Luce was looking at schools only in California. As far as possible from here, from Beron.”

“And you were…okay with it?” he inquired, gently massaging her feet.

She shrugged, “I suppose I was. Luce and I had a good relationship,”

“But it was without any,”

“Intimacy,” she nodded. “I don’t know, I suppose it was enough…My mother had died recently and we lost most of our money, so I guess dating and boyfriends weren’t a priority, if I am being honest.”

He nodded with understanding.

“And college?”

“I had a boyfriend,” her voice wobbled a little, “but he…”

The heavy gaze that Azriel levelled at her told her that he already guessed.

“Sometimes,” she said, “when you are in the situation, you don’t see the warning signs,”

“Did he hit you?” his voice, so cold and menacing, sent a chill down her body.

She shook her head, “No. It didn’t get that far…Cass interfered,”

“Cass?”

“We’ve known Cass for at least a year,” she reminded him, “before he started dating Nesta. He spent a lot of time with us, at the house, because I think he didn’t want to part with Nesta,”

Azriel smiled, “No he didn’t. He wouldn’t stop talking about her for a year…I’d never seen him like that. First Rhys, then Cassian…Guess there is something special about these Archeron sisters,” he decided and stroked her face lovingly, smiling at her. She tucked his palm between her cheek and shoulder and kissed it.

“They do have a tendency to fall in love with the three brothers,” she agreed.

“Yes, they do.”

“Cass, he called us ‘his girls’—Feyre and I. Always asking after ‘his girls’, bringing us presents, doing fun things with us. And I came to love him so much,” she sighed. “And I know that he truly loves us too…But you know Cass—he is a no-nonsense kind of a guy. So once, he observed Graysen with me,”

“Graysen?” Azriel rolled his eyes. “That’s a horrible fucking name,”

She laughed,

“It matched his personality. But you know, on paper, he looked great. Handsome, good family, money,”

“So basically Dorian?”

Elain rolled her eyes,

“You are never going to have me live this down, will you?”

“Not for a while.”

“At least you are honest. Gray, he just…didn’t care, I guess? It was all about him. When I’d talk about opening my shop, it would just be a plain ‘no’. He’s put me down…” she sighed, “sometimes comment on my weight—I was either too fat or too thin.” Azriel flinched at that. She continued, “He’d tell me what to eat. What to wear. Where to go,”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he muttered.

Then, he sat up straight in the chair and opened his arms to her.

“Come here.”

Elain, a bit unsure, and a bit rattled by the memories, moved towards him. He cupped her face in his broad scarred hands and said, “All in the past. Now, it’s just you and me.”

She nodded, gently squeezing his wrists. He leaned in closer and she nodded. His sort of power, the more aggressive and primal, and seemingly more dominant than what Graysen could ever conjure up, did not scare Elain at all. He beckoned and seduced her with that pursuit and challenge, but he did not frighten or oppress. It was similar to what Cassian possessed and how he managed to seduce Nesta with it, turned her compliant to his demand and instruction, or Lorcan with Elide. Azriel’s power, his seduction, were more cerebral, his affection passionate, but controlled. Elain could abandon herself to him, and yet she knew that she’d never be abused or taken advantage of, no matter how much control she relinquished.

This kiss was sultry and voluptuous, and it felt dirtier, heavier than their first one. He sucked her lips, is tongue softly grinding against her in a smouldering, almost smug rhythm. He fucked into her mouth steadily, and purposefully, rendering her completely breathless in his arms almost instantly, forcing all thoughts of previous loves and heartaches out of her head. She made a tiny, strangled noise deep inside her throat and squeezed his wrists harder.

“Tell me things, baby,” he muttered heatedly against her lips, thumbs brushing over her cheeks.

She smiled, “what things would you like to hear?” He kissed her softly, lips pecking on hers playfully, and said, “all the things…all the good things that you told me before,”

“That I love you?” she asked simply, looking at him with earnest, undimming desire.

“Yes,” he groaned, pulling her closer to him, until she was straddling his thighs, her legs naturally falling on either side of him. A desperate moan escaped his lips, as Elain licked on them with the tip of her tongue, before he demanded, between kisses and caresses of his tongue in her parted mouth, “more,”

“I love you. I love you,” she breathed, then panted, “you are mine…I am yours. Forever, if you’d like,”

“I’d like forever,” he agreed.

She pulled away, her soft, lovely face serious,

“Az,”

“Elain,”

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?” she asked, and he grinned, nodding. She sounded absurdly solemn about this, like she was signing a business contract. “I love you. I want you to be my boyfriend,”

“Alright, babygirl, I will be your boyfriend,” he nodded easily.

“No jokes.”

“No jokes.”

He then said in turn, “But you’ll be mine.”

She nodded.

“In every way,” he added, in a tone that did not allow space for much argument. “Body,” and he lightly ran his knuckles against the side of her breast, and she nodded. He added, “but I want more,”

“What do you want, Az?”

“Love,” he said simply.

She kissed him. “I love you,” she said.

He waited.

“I chose you, Azriel, the moment I saw you. When my heart dropped at the sight of you, and when everything fell into place. I don’t mind choosing you for the rest of my life, if you have me,” she murmured shyly.

“I will have you,” he agreed, her admission making him swallow hard, a thick glob of air lodged in his throat. He might have cried, if he weren’t so happy. His flower girl. His.

He looked and looked, and considered something. She waited, silent. Silence was always a friend between the two of them. Silence was easy and unoppressive and welcome. It allowed them space, and yet they remained together in that mute, mutual understanding. While he was thinking, she took his hand and softly kissed each scarred fingertip.

“I am calling on my bargain,” he declared suddenly, and stroked her head.

Confused, she scrunched her face and muttered, “what?”

He grabbed her behind in his strong hands and somehow, managed to rise up, with her clutching at him. His nose burrowed into her ear and she squirmed, giggling, when he grunted, “what a nice little ass!”

“You seem to like it,” she laughed, wrapping her arms around him.

“I love it!”

“Now what about this bargain?” she reminded him, a bit concerned. “What are we doing?”

“Whatever I want!”

“Az!”

“Lainey.”

He headed for the door, with her in his arms, and she screeched, “I don’t even have shoes on!”

“You don’t need shoes where we are going,”

“Azriel!”

“Why are you so fussy?” he mused, smirking, as he made it down the stairs.

“Why won’t you tell me?”

“I don’t have to tell you. All I promised was that it’s not going to be ‘bad’ whatever that means.”

She sighed, shaking her head, muttering under her breath. He, in turn, very much enjoyed her clutching at him, her body in his arms, her wet hair swiping over his arm. She looked very cute, if very ridiculous in his clothes, and frankly, he was too elated, too disbelieving that this was even real, to let her go. He held her and nuzzled at her neck, at her face, sometimes returning to her beautiful mouth.

He carried her through the still-empty premises, though waiters at the bar and delivery people in the kitchen were starting their day. When they saw their boss carrying a woman, who frequently visited him here in the past few months, they pretended not to notice, as if this was a normal affair. In fact, no other woman ever came here, to visit him. He’s never been seen with a woman, never said that he had a girlfriend, even if women seemed to lose their minds in his presence. But until this one—absolutely not the type of a woman he typically attracted—he never allowed anyone to get close to him.

Azriel made his way into the cavernous insides of the building, at last entering the tattoo shop that he had on premises. It was elegantly outfitted and bore his usual aesthetic—restrained, modern, striking with its use of black, white, and splashes of cobalt.

Elain looked around, when he set her down and pointed out, “I’ve been here before.”

He nodded.

As she wandered about, looking at various lithographs and prints with unique tattoo designed, she finally stopped abruptly and whirled to him,

“No!”

He was laughing under his breath.

“No!” she exclaimed again.

“No what?” he winked, sitting down on a stool, and patting on a leather recliner beside it.

“You…” she fumed. “No!”

He tsked, “A bargain is a bargain.”

“Azriel!” she stomped her foot.

He crossed his arms on his chest and looked at her, “Elain.”

“I am not getting a tattoo!”

“You most certainly are. Stop being a wuss and come here.”

“I am not going to,” she insisted.

“You know,” he notified her conversationally, as he started to prep his equipment, “a shitty little Bagarat tattoo is like $800 bucks,”

“Congratulations. Give it to someone else,” she offered, scowling. “Maybe someone would like a sleeve for twenty grand!”

“I won’t give you a sleeve. Jeez, you’ll probably faint at the first prick,”

She huffed, “I will not!”

He shrugged.

She pressed, “I will not. I am not afraid of needles and I have a high pain tolerance.”

“Lots of talk, babe, no action,”

Stomping angrily, she crossed the open space and challenged, “do you even know how to tattoo?”

“Cass and Rhys…” he winked. “And whenever Rowan decides to add to his collection…Or Gavriel,”

Those were some of the finest, most intricate designs that Elain’s ever seen.

“You did those?” she asked, brow furrowed.

He nodded.

“They are beautiful,” she whispered.

“Will you trust me?” his voice softened and he extended his hand to her.

Elain sighed and then slid on the lounge chair. It was comfortable. She was nervous.

“What will it be?” she asked. “May I see it?”

Wordlessly, he pulled a piece of paper from a folder, but then did not give it to her. She waited. He suddenly seemed uncertain, almost shy.

“Az,” she said gently, “may I see it? I am sure it’s beautiful.”

He swallowed and then explained, “I traced it the first day…evening…When we met, and you were here, at the garage. I,” he exhaled and then looked at her, “anyway…I was overwhelmed, I guess. I fell in love with you and all I could think of was you.”

The words warmed her up, and everything in her softened at his nervousness, at his admission.

“I want it,” she took the paper from him.

“It’s just for you,” he clarified. “It’s unique to you. I needed to quiet my brain and capture the essence of you, and this was it,”

Elain looked at the drawing. It was smaller than she expected, and rendered masterfully—an absolutely exquisite flower cradled in an embrace of two wings.

He swallowed tightly, and then said, “It’s called On the Wings of Desire.”

Without saying anything, Elain pulled up the shirt that she was wearing, just up to her chest. He looked down at her, expectantly.

She put her hand under her left breast, where her heart was and said, “there. I need it there.”

He nodded, remaining silent.

She saw that this was important to him, some ritual that he desired for her to go through, some sort of marking. That’s what it was. It dawned on her, at last. This was his mark, on her. He was going to do it himself, put a part of him, of his creation, of his work, not just on her skin, but within her blood, into her.

She clasped his hand and his eyes flew to her, a shadow of apprehension and anxiety in them, probably as much emotion as he’d be willing to show. He feared that she’d changed her mind.

“Az,” she licked her lip, suddenly nervous to request this of him. “Can you,”

“What?”

“Can you do it on you as well?” she proposed quietly.

He, it seemed, was unable to verbalize what he needed to, so she helped him, “Same spot, alright? Across your heart. So you know that I am always with you, as you are with me.”

He nodded vigorously, clearly relieved and absolutely in love with her proposition.

“Who will do it?” she wondered. “Please don’t ask me!” she laughed.

He smirked. “Nuala. She will do it. Only Nuala or Rowan tattoo me.”

She nodded and then relaxed back into the leather.

“No crying,” he said.

“Alright,” she shrugged. “Kind of weird that you are this sensitive to pain, but okay. I’ll hold your hand.”

He was laughing.

“I thought only Nesta had a big mouth like that,” he said, as he prepped the skin and pulled on his gloves.

“Mistake number one,” teased Elain.

“I am seeing that now,”

He then said, “Okay, I may accidentally brush against the boobie,”

“How accidentally?” she chuckled, while he pressed the outline into her skin. Then, the needle began its wheezing and Elain winced, as the first prick of the needle stung her skin.

“You good?”

“Yeah,” it was more painful than she expected, and she figured that the spot that she selected was probably not the best and would hurt more than an arm or a leg, but she was set on it.

“Absolutely, totally accidentally,” he lied. “You are the one who chose the spot,” he pointed out.

Elain was a trooper. She did not make any hissing noises or any sounds at all throughout the tattooing. The shading was the longest and most painful part, and even then, she remained composed and only winced a few times.

“I am sorry,” he murmured repeatedly, especially when a bit of blood seeped onto her skin.

“Prick your finger,” she whispered.

“What?”

“Prick your finger,”

“And?”

The soft doe-eyes blinked at him a few times, and she said, “I think you know what to do.”

So he did. He pricked his finger and mixed his blood with hers.

 Nuala offered to tattoo ‘No Regerts’ on Azriel’s chest, if Elain so desired. She considered it, while Nuala explained that Azriel was now at their mercy and they could do whatever they wanted to him. At the end, he walked away with only a small tattoo over his heart.

 It was about 8 am when Azriel and Elain left the garage. The sun was shining and there were no remnants of the previous storms. It was like it never happened. But it did happen. Everything happened.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, slinging his heavy, muscled arm around her shoulders. She’s been clutching at her side the whole time.

She shook her head no and looked at him. He smiled and then kissed her.

“I love you,” he murmured suddenly. Elain’s face broke into a loving smile and she reciprocated by kissing him back. “Let’s go home.”

#la dolce vita #elriel fanfic #elriel #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #elriel fanfiction #elain fanfic #my writing #new chapter #acotar fanfiction #sjm books #azriel #azriel and elain #elain archeron #elain

[beauenfer]

𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐮𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬...

a headcanon for what dating Paul would be like...

▬▬ PAIRING: Paul Lahote x human!Reader

▬▬ WARNING: language, barely sexual themes

all gifs I use are not mine...

.｡.:*★.｡.:*★.｡.:*★.｡.:*★.｡.:*★.｡.:*★.｡.:*★.｡.:*★

.｡.:*★.｡.:*★.｡.:*★.｡.:*★.｡.:*★.｡.:*★.｡.:*★.｡.:*★

✦. you and Paul were not ashamed of PDA, first of all

✦. like, you guys would be walking on the beach when all of sudden you’re making out in the sand, the rest of the pack having to go home in disgust

✦. everywhere you guys went it was like your bedroom, kissing, touching of all kinds, and absolutely no shame when Paul would be sucking hickies onto your neck at Emily’s dinner table

✦. that’s when Jared would tell ya’ll to get a room

✦. and when Sam would kick you out of his house

✦. he wasn’t slick either, nor subtle. it’s not like he cares what people thought of him anyway

✦. you were his, if he wanted to interrupt you in the middle of a conversation you were having and tell you he wanted to go fuck you in his car he was going to

✦. you of course just found it funny

✦. he was always trying to fuck you in any way he could, anywhere he could, at any time he could

✦. but he was a wolf for Christ’s sake, he had a lot of stamina. he had a lot of tension, a lot of pent up energy, and he could go for days if he really wanted to

✦. but you needed a break sometimes

✦. you were always tracing his muscles even when you didn’t realize you were, your fingertips grazing his biceps or his abs when you’d sit on his lap, or lay on his chest

✦. he would be all too aware of that though, feeling himself getting more heated at the sensation of your hands on him

✦. of course, he wouldn’t want you to stop though

✦. you would have to get on his case when he wouldn’t wear a shirt into public places, purely out of habit

✦. “Paul, remember what we talked about?”

✦. “you mean about wearing a shirt?”

✦. “mm-hm. And what are you not doing?”

✦. “wearing a shirt.”

✦. speaking of shirts, you had a drawer dedicated to Paul’s clothes in your room, and vice versa

✦. he always thought about you nakey, especially when he knew he shouldn’t

✦. he’d be in his wolf form, patrolling the area, when an image of your naked body would pop into his head, the way you moaned and writhed beneath him

✦. the pack was disgusted, and would always yell at him to stop thinking about those things at such a time

✦. of course the single wolfs didn’t have a problem with it

✦. which means Paul would almost kill them even though he was the one thinking about it

✦. it was a vicious cycle

✦. Paul had a really hard time controlling his anger, especially when it came to you

✦. you were really the only thing that could calm him down. if you weren’t there, one of the boys would mention you or call you over because they knew that would work

✦. if he thought you were in danger he would lock you up in Emily’s house or somewhere safe, and have Seth and Quil look after you while him and the rest of the boys patrolled for any danger

✦. his protectiveness really irritated you though. because it’s not like it was a major threat. Paul freaked out if he even saw one of the Cullens just in town. claiming they were on their way to kill you

✦. you just let him think what he wanted honestly. but you made sure to tell him to stop overreacting

✦. he was also incredibly possessive, a trait you thought was sexy... for the most part

✦. it wasn’t sexy whenever you’d be talking to one of your guy friends (that Paul wishes you didn’t have) and he would run over at the sound of your laugh and steal you away

✦. because the pack knew how jealous Paul could get, Jared would say something about you to get on his nerves

✦. “yo Paul, I saw your girl at La Push earlier. Definitely gave me an idea of what I wanted to La Push.”

✦. da fuck did I just write?

✦. “whatchu say, Cameron?!”

✦. Paul didn’t like bringing you to his house. his dad didn’t make the experience very pleasant

✦. he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, which he knew his father would do

✦. because of this, you guys were always at your house or at Emily’s with the rest of the pack

✦. but again, the pack was always picking on Paul so you two would just leave rather quickly with a container of Emily’s leftovers

✦. speaking of, you loved to cook with Emily whenever Paul would be outside with the pack, doing manly things and messing around

✦. of course, he didn’t want to be away from you but you made sure he hung out with the pack and not just you

✦. but all he did was talk about you and miss you even though you were like ten feet away so what was the point

✦. you loved to try out recipes Emily gave you on Paul, and the new techniques she would teach you

✦. you made him food, but Paul was the type where he couldn’t hide his disgust

✦. you’ll get there, babe he’d always say

✦. you loved how big Paul was compared to you

✦. you were always the little spoon in the bed, his big arms wrapped tightly around you in the little shack you lived in

✦. but whenever you two cuddled you got hot very quickly, and would have to pry him off you

✦. he would pout, and you’d end up feeling bad, begrudgingly going back into his arms

✦. you would always wait for him whenever he would have to patrol, but sometimes you couldn’t take how tired you were

✦. he’d climb in through your window and find you asleep, your small tv illuminating the saliva on your cheek

✦. he’d be the type to stare at you when you slept, getting in besides you and laying you on his chest

✦. he’d put the blanket around your shoulders and giving you a kiss on the cheek

✦. he was a softy when it came to you

✦. you never got mad whenever Paul was gone later than he said he would, well... maybe a little

✦. I mean, you understood he was a protector, part of the tribe and part of the pack

✦. he had responsibilities being what he was, and that meant it took a lot of his time

✦. he of course tried to get out of it as much as possible, but knew your safety was very important at the same time

✦. you understood this. you respected this. but on your special nights when you’d get ready for a fancy date that he promised he would be at and he didn’t show up you’d be disappointed

✦. speaking of, Paul knew this hurt your feelings. so he would definitely make it up to you in anyway you wanted the next day. Sometimes it was aggressive shopping sprees, body massages, anything that meant you were pampered

✦. Paul liked to show off when you were around. He would boast about his muscles, take his shirt off on the rare occasion he’d be wearing one, and he’d look over at you to make sure you were looking at him

✦. honestly, he acted like you were his crush, not his literal soulmate

✦. you blushed a lot around him because he definitely wasn’t shy when it came to compliments, or dirty innuendos, or just straight “Let’s go fuck.”

✦. he’s the type to always hug you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder and his arms tightly wrapped around your waist

✦. you always sat on his lap or between his legs at bonfires, drinking a beer Billy certainly didn’t approve of

✦. Paul liked to look at you. you two would be sitting on the couch, walking on the beach, sitting around the fire, or you’d be talking to Emily and you would feel his stare on the side of your face

✦. you always worried when he’d have to shift for anything but patrol, meaning there was actual danger

✦. Emily learned to trust and believe in Sam, so she always consoled you when the boys were away so you wouldn’t stress too bad

✦. you hated that you couldn’t tell anybody you were dating a literal wolf. you wanted to gush and show off but you knew that would give away the sacred secrets nobody could know about

✦. Paul made sure that if he wasn’t around one of the boys was hanging out with you. he didn’t want you to be alone and something bad happen

✦. he gave you a lot of smirks and sexy eyes

✦. he also was the king of bear hugs. he hugged you randomly, lifting you up in the air and smothering you in his chest, his arms alone twice the size of your torso

✦. you thought the veins on his arms were sexy af, and always found yourself daydreaming if you looked at them too long

✦. you could immediately tell who Paul was when he was in his wolf form. you could tell by his eyes, his size, and the color of his fur

✦. he liked to be around you in his wolf form because you always scratched behind his ears and on his head, like he was a dog

✦. at first, he thought his size and what he was in general scared you, but you made him get over it

✦. he’s hesitant around you when in his wolf form. he knows he’s huge and doesn’t want to hurt you

✦. just like his human form. he’s aware that he’s very strong, and has to watch himself when he’s holding your hand or hugging you because he could literally crush you in a second

✦. whenever you’d go out to Forks, he’d hug you rub himself against you. he’d just tell you it’s because he’s going to miss you

✦. but really it’s because he wanted everyone to recognize his scent on you. especially the Cullens if you ran into them

✦. you asked Emily for tips a lot on what to do for the relationship. you looked up to her, like your second mother

✦. Paul wasn’t the brightest boyfriend in the world. you had to be very blunt with what you wanted or what you were saying or else he’d get confused

✦. he didn’t understand how women worked

✦. sometimes it would upset you when you’d remember how many girls Paul had in the past. Girls who weren’t you.

✦. but that was just the woman in you. you tried to reason with yourself and say that he was young, a playboy back then

✦. it made you feel a little better, but you still found yourself thinking about it from time to time

✦. despite Paul being protective, whenever you two went to a party he was worse than you. he’d get so drunk that he was hanging off your arm. you would have to ask Jared to help you

✦. but with drunk Paul comes easily angered Paul. he would almost shift when a guy tried to talk to you, or he would just try to start something if he even thought someone was thinking of talking to you

✦. you and Paul were the couple that argued over stupid little things that had you laughing about it after

✦. “Paul! you cannot just eat my pancakes because you were hungry! bitch, maybe I was hungry!”

✦. “baby, I’m a wolf. I can’t kill vampires on an empty stomach!”

✦. whenever you two did fight about something serious, Paul wouldn’t be able to control his anger for very long

✦. he’d run off after feeling the shift begin, and after what happened with Sam and Emily he’d have to get away from you

✦. the boys would have to hold you back from running after him

✦. he’d come back a day later, wet from the rain with sad brown eyes

✦. he’d just wrap his arms around your waist and burrow his head into your neck, not one for words

✦. Paul didn’t like extravagance, living his whole life on the reservation. he didn’t like parties that weren’t with the boys

✦. he didn’t like going to fairs, going to restaurants, going anywhere really that was of outside of the reservation

✦. he liked to go to La Push and kick the ball around, go to Emily’s house, hang out with you in your bed and watch movies all day

✦. you accepted this, but sometimes you just wanted to go to Forks and eat at an actual restaurant with no trees and actual people

✦. so you’d say this to Paul, knowing how he couldn’t get a hint

✦. and then he would take out, but in general he’s not a planner

✦. if he ever did take you out to Forks or somewhere nice, it was completely random

✦. you always got really sappy with him whenever you two would watch movies at 3:00 in the morning

✦. you would just look over and see him focused on the television, his hand stroking your hip absentmindedly

✦. “Paul, you know I love you a lot? Like, a lot a lot?”

✦. “huh?”

✦. “nothing, you ass.”

✦. he wasn’t the type to let you win at anything. games, wrestling, soccer

✦. he would pretend to give you a chance, but then flip you the fuck over and yell in victory

✦. yeah, he was that type

✦. but no matter what, Paul loved loved loved you and on gawd if something every happened to you, even a little scratch, he’d go apeshit

✦. he didn’t know how to be romantic, or how to be nice, or anything considerate

✦. but he always tried with you. because you his baby

✦. the end

#paul lahote headcanons #Paul lahote #dating Paul #werewolf #twilight #new moon #Paul Lahote imagine #Paul lahote x reader #eclipse #breaking dawn

[ashenpages]

Current Projects & Emoji Voting Key

Quick disclaimer: I’m a romance writer in all aspects of the term, so most of my works will contain mature content. Engage at your own risk, you know the rules, you’re responsible for curating your own experience of the internet, blah blah blah.

This post serves as a current mock up of fic ideas I’m either actively working on or considering working on next. You can drop me an ask about any of them, or just vote via the emoji combo I’ve assigned them.

Voting lets me know you’re excited about an idea and makes it more likely I’ll actually work on it. You can vote anytime, there’re no deadlines or winner announcements, just me gauging your interest by what I see in my ask box most often.

You can also ask me about the original stuff I’m working on currently. The current WIPs are Medusa centric and the emoji for them is: 🐍

Support my original work on Ko-fi and Patreon.

- Lupin: 🤑🤠💍  These are all oneshot ideas, between 5-15K each. If you want to vote for a specific idea, send me the emojis and the number of the idea.

Born from the idea that Goemon and Zenigata probably couldn’t be an item, my brain decided to come up with how I could write for them. Goemon’s teaching an ikebana class as part of his training, and Zenigata shows up as a student on forced recreational leave for his health from the ICPO. Zenigata wins the samurai’s heart through flowers. But what happens when Lupin and Jigen find out? (Only good sexy things, I promise. These beans are in a healthy polycule--be gay, do crimes) (WIP)

Jigen/Lupin, but it's Jigen deciding to seduce Lupin while wearing his own Lupin disguise. The thief is waaaaay too into it, and some artistry is taken with the sex so that they don't mess up the disguise too much during their encoutner.

Jigen/Zenigata/Lupin where Jigen has some fantasices about Zenigata, but is pretty sure they'll never happen. Tells Lupin about them. Suddenly the fantasies are coming true, in the middle of a heist, and Jigen doesn't what to do except get swept up in the moment and enjoy. Plot twist, it's Lupin dressed up as Zenigata granting all his gunman's dreams. Plot twist again, Zenigata catches them at it.

Zenigata/Lupin, where Lupin keeps doing good things in illegal ways and Pops has to find a way to punish him for it. Good thing for Pops Lupin's a masochist?

Trans!Lupin and Trans!Jigen premise: Jigen cares for Lupin after the master thief has top surgery, since Jigen has Been There and Done That. Caring, sweet, and a little sexy. Lupin is a much better patient than Jigen.

The one time Zenigata caught Lupin in an alley and kissed him and it was Jigen in disguise. Things get sexy anyway, and Zenigata has crushes on two thieves now. Lupin and Jigen "kidnap" him later for an evening of taking care of their inspector.

The background plot of Jigen's Gravestone where we see Jigen think he's done for and try to leave Lupin. Our thief has none of it, and we get to relish in the inherent eroticism of Lupin sitting in sniper fire, knowing Jigen's got his back. This is the moment I think Jigen finally believes he can be with Lupin forever.

I love the idea of something longer and more plot driven like a Lupin special where Lupin ends up in hot water and Jigen and Fujiko have to work together to save him. Jigen and Fujiko have such an interesting relationship. They're both partners of Lupin, they don't really like each other, they constantly screw the other over, but when it really matters they take care of each other. I'd like to see that highlighted a little more and also give them space to call each other out and bicker. Nothing sexy between them, but maybe a really interesting threesome with Lupin and Fujiko in a strap on once they save their boy.

- Sonic Vampire Novelist Coffee Shop AU: 📚☕💐

Shadow is an immortal vampire who has seen the world change for the worse too many times. These days it feels like he only lives for his coffee dates with Rouge, another immortal who loves each new era they encounter, warts and all. He has to admit that the book series she got him into speaks to him, at least. If someone in this era can understand him without meeting him, it can’t all be bad. But he hardly expected the goofy blue barista at the new coffee place to understand him the way those books do.

This is a novel length romcom romp with some big feelings about what it means to watch as things change, grow, and die. Expect lots of Big gothic feelings from this one, emotionally charged kissing, and overly-adoring sex. But also expect shenanigans from everyone in the coffee shop, which include Rouge, Amy, Tails, Knuckles, Cream, and more.

- Sonic Blazamy, "Like the Sun": 💖🌸💎

Amy Rose has been in love with Sonic for a while.

Or has she?

When the Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, Shadow, and Silver are trapped as the fuel sources for Doctor Eggman’s newest evil scheme, Amy teams up with Blaze, Rouge, and Cream to save them. With Sonic out of the picture and Amy fulfilling his role, was she ever really in love with him? Or did she just want to be like him?

This is a novel length epic romance with lots of competent women and lots of romantic Blazamy content. Expect flowery hopes and dreams, badass self-actualization, and glancing hand touches that give way to cuddly and sweet sex.

- Persona 5: 🗡🍛☕

After bringing down the Metaverse twice, Ryuji didn’t think graduating high school and figuring out what to do with his life would be so hard. Akira’s back in town, and the gang’s more-or-less all in Tokyo, but everyone else seems to have a plan while Ryuji just floats. How’s he supposed to change the world when he’s not a phantom thief anymore?

This is a novel length fic that addresses how powerless one can feel being just one person in the face of all the corrupted systems and bigotry the world has to offer. It’s about holding on to what you believe in, working through the doubt, and fighting your way to a better tomorrow with the power you do have. The whole gang is queer, featured relationships being Mako x Ann, Ryuji x Akira, Futaba & Yusuke as platonic life partners. Akira is polyamorous and omnisexual, Futaba’s asexual and aromantic while Yusuke is demisexual and very romantic, Makoto’s a lesbian, Ann and Ryuji are bi, and Haru’s pansexual, demisexual, and aromantic. They’re one giant band of queer Phantom Thieves, and even if they’re not really doing the Metaverse thing anymore, they’re still gonna save the world!

Also, I’m gonna make Makoto not a cop. That super didn’t age well. Zenkichi and his boss can work on making them better/abolishing them for other better organizations.

- Hades Game: ❤️‍🔥💀

Oneshot. I just really need to elaborate on the threesome you can have with them in-game, okay? Healthy and canon poly relationships are so few and far between, so often I have to do a ton of groundwork to explain why it’s working in the fic, but NOT WITH THESE KIDS!

Get ready for Meg helping Zag and Than be better at expressing their feelings, lots of kissing, and probably pegging.

- Castlevania Animation Trevor/Sypha/Alucard: 🧛🏰🛌

Castlevania gave Alucard a threesome last season, and I just really need S4 to give me him being taken care of by his partners. They’re probably not going to give it to me, so I’ll need to do it myself. This is just an everybody loves Alucard oneshot, with the gang’s signature banter (to an extent), Sypha being sexy, and Trever being remarkably sincere. This fic is gonna feel like that Ann Hathaway picture with Trevor kissing Alucard and Sypha holding the end of Trevor’s whip while she leans her head on Alucard’s shoulder adoringly.

- Devil May Cry Nico/Lady/Trish: 💋✨😈

Nico’s gay, okay? Like really, really gay. And Lady’s bi and not into men who make her pay bills, but very into women who make amazing guns for her and demonesses with hearts who fight by her side. Trish is ace, but loves people and is pretty attached to Lady at this point. Plus it’s cute when Lady blushes and says nice things like they’re insults. I don’t have super solid ideas for them yet, and I envision these more like a polycule where Lady’s with Nico and with Trish but they’re not with each other more than seeing it as a threesome, but who knows what might happen. This is probably 1-2 oneshots depending on ideas, but might turn into a series of oneshots if people are interested (or I can’t control myself and inspiration strikes).

- Post FMA:B Blind Roy & No Alchemy Ed: 👀👑🙏

This is actually an old novel-length fic I wrote ages ago and didn’t post that didn’t turn out well because I was new to writing sex when I first wrote it. The plot is good, and is all about Roy learning to work with his blindness to reclaim his ambition of being Fuhrer and changing the system to something that actually cares for its people. He and Ed reconnect, fall into bed, and both set about working through their respective traumas about being “useless” having lost their sight/alchemy. They go to Xing as an ambassadorial party to offer Amestris’s collaboration on Al and May’s Alkahestry experiments--and uncover a plot that might threaten both kingdoms.

- Age of Calamity continuity Mipha x Revali: 🦚🐟💘

The first time Revali noticed Mipha, it was in the heat of battle. She stole his mark, taking them down with a flurry of quick blows from her spear. Violence rained from her like water--and then she healed him on her way to her next battle. No questions, no conditions, just pure kindness. The usual need to measure himself against those around him was quiet in her wake. And Revali couldn’t understand it. But how to get to know more about her? A fish and bird may fall in love, but where would they live?

This fic could be a oneshot or novel length depending on how far down the hole I fall. I need it to cover time, but it could be done in linked vignettes or with actually covering events in detail. I may elect to do a oneshot just to get it done and out of my system faster. So much fic to write, so little time.

Expect trans!Revali, polyamorous Zoras, scary competent Mipha, songbird Revali, love confessions that are made up entirely of berating Link for not loving Mipha the way she wants him to, and breaking these characters a little outside of their assigned roles in BotW and Age of Calamity. Background Link x Zelda, and Urbosa x Zelda’s Mom.

- Epic desert romance about Urbosa and Zelda’s mom: 🏜🏝⚡

I just think Urbosa should kiss women and Zelda’s mom should get more development and maybe a name or something. Also, lightning imagery/metaphors/play.

It also went way over my head that Riju wasn’t Urbosa’s daughter the first time I played BotW, so now I want to write about the Gerudo queen who refused to produce an heir. The Gerudo are fascinating and have a very interesting cutlure, but I think it could be examined from a nonbinary perspective that rejected pregnancy and wanting to find a husband. Not in like a hateful way, but in a way that examines if that’s really right for everyone. There’s that shop in town that sells Voe armor, after all. Maybe finding a husband and having children isn’t something you have to do if you don’t want to. And Urbosa really doesn’t want to.

#age of calamity #Devil May Cry #RoyEd #Castlevania #Breath of the Wild #Hades Game #Sonic the Hedgehog #Lupin III #Persona 5

[youngerdrgrey]

relax (this is private, too) // a Mary/Ryan oneshot

about: In a post-2x13 world, Mary welcomes Sophie to the Bat Team, and Sophie derails the conversation with an observation.

“It’s a tale as old as time. ‘Straight’ girl meets somebody that she just has to know, wants to spend all her time with her, starts wearing her clothes….” Sophie and Mary both look down at the color-block jacket that Mary’s wearing — Ryan’s color-block jacket. But Mary couldn’t possibly have a crush on Ryan… could she? + read on ao3

notes: Surprise! Truly, none probably more surprised than me. One moment I'm saying that I probably won't write for a bit, and the next I'm writing this because we really didn't talk enough about Mary saying, "Okay, that's kind of sexy" over the hot shot moment. (As a note, yes, platonic, intimate friendships between women are important. At this moment, though, let's run the tape back with Mary who is very confused.)

🦇

“Sit, sit, sit.” Mary leads Sophie through the loft to the living room. “You must have questions.”

Sophie does sit — on the chair this time, which leaves the couch open for Mary. It’s a slightly different seating arrangement than they had yesterday. There’s definitely a lot less attitude and tension here, but then again, it is only Mary and Sophie right now. Unless Ryan’s patrol goes poorly, but it probably won’t. Besides, Mary had texted Ryan about wanting some one-on-one time to suss Sophie out. Sophie’s a great person, but she might need to come around to Ryan wearing the suit.

Mary uncorks the wine bottle on the coffee table and gives a generous pour into the two stemless glasses. It’s a rosè, which is the perfect drink for a casual conversation. It’s light, airy, and has absolutely no chance of worms or poison in the bottom.

Sophie eyes her glass a moment before picking it up anyway. “Honestly?” She chuckles. “I have less questions now.”

“Really?” Mary settles back into the couch. “Because I won’t judge you if you do. It’s a lot to take in.” Mary’d wanted to rip the suit right off of Ryan the first time that she saw Ryan in it. Granted, at the time, they’d still been trying to find Kate, and a stranger was wearing Mary’s sister’s secret vigilante costume.

Sophie swirls her glass. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m still processing the Ryan Wilder of it all, but… well, it all makes sense now.” She leans forward, her elbows finding the tops of her knees as she pitches towards Mary. “Before last week, I couldn’t understand why Ryan was suddenly everywhere. Sure, she worked at the bar, but then you were roommates out of nowhere. You went from zero to….” Sophie snorts into her wine glass.

Mary laughs too, but she doesn’t quite get why. It’s like they’re playing Never Have I Ever all over again. “Zero to what? I want in on the joke.”

Sophie shakes her head though. Her eyebrows pull together like she’s still puzzling something. Then she gives in, and her voice still has a hint of that humor as she finishes, “Zero to U-haul.” Mary chokes on the air in her lungs. Sophie raises her glass in a silent toast. “So, the Batwoman thing — makes a lot more sense than you suddenly having a girlfriend.”

Mary’s cheeks flush. Leave it to the lesbian to assume Mary’s hiding her sexuality. “A secret girlfriend is much more your speed.” Wait, is that rude? “Uh, no offense.”

Sophie takes a swig of wine. “None taken. You’re right. So, tell me more about working with Ryan.”

Mary smiles. This, she can do. She could talk about Ryan for hours. “She’s amazing. I mean, you know, you’ve seen her. She totally fills out the suit. Like it suits her and not the other way around. You’d think that it wouldn’t, but she really makes it her own.”

“Right, with the wig.”

“With everything!” Mary drinks some more. “She really gets this city, you know? Everything we’re doing with the Center is all Ryan’s idea. She came up with the plan, and she has these rules that we follow as the Bat Team! No killing, no working with Crows — again, no offense. Er, well,” Mary tilts her head to the side, “some offense. You guys have an awful track record at this point.”

Sophie takes another drink. “So you tell me.”

“But we also do team building exercises. It’s mostly us playing Taboo, and Luke getting really tired of us. Ryan’s so great. It’s like we don’t even have to say anything to know what the other is thinking. And even though she’s the boss, and she’s the leader, it’s like we’re really working side by side to make Gotham the place we always wanted it to be. The Center’s only the start. She has ideas about upgraded transitional shelters for people experiencing homelessness, and expanding the clinic if we get enough resources. She listened to my whole pitch about what we would need to do it, and asked questions, and— what?”

Sophie’s staring at Mary. Staring hard, but soft at the same time.

Mary swipes a hand across her cheek. “Is something on my face?”

Sophie shakes her head. “No, it’s nothing.” She drinks again, but her brows stay furrowed.

“Sophie, come on. Whatever it is, you can tell me.” Maybe hearing about all the good that Ryan wants is too much for Sophie right now. Mary can wait. It’s not like she’ll run out of good stuff to say.

“It’s the way you talk about her,” Sophie says finally. That softness is there again. A gentle touch in her voice. “Between that and your ‘kinda sexy’ comment yesterday… I don’t know, Mary, it just sounds like you have a crush.”

“A crush?” Mary repeats. “On Ryan?” She scoffs. “Hate to break it to you, Sophie, but I am straight. Like so straight. Like—”

Sophie puts her hands up in a silent casual defense. She drops them a moment later. “You don’t have to convince me. I believe you.”

“Thank you!” Mary flops back into the couch. Her head bounces just a bit on the top of it. Her curls smush, and she sinks down so that the thought can hopefully follow it out of her head.

She knows what sexy is. She can identify that something could be attractive without actually being attracted to said thing. There are all the different types of attraction. She ran a course on gender and sexuality for the doctors and volunteers at her clinic to make sure that everyone was on the same page in how to properly treat people that the medical field did not always regard with respect. She would know if she had a crush on Ryan.

Wouldn’t she?

Sophie sets her wine onto the coffee table. “It’s a tale as old as time. ‘Straight’ girl meets somebody that she just has to know, wants to spend all her time with her, starts wearing her clothes….” Sophie and Mary both look down at the color-block jacket that Mary’s wearing — Ryan’s color-block jacket.

“Okay, but we live together,” Mary reasons. Roommates borrow each other’s clothes. It’s not like she’s taking her crush’s jacket so that she has an excuse to see Ryan again. She can see Ryan whenever she wants. She does see Ryan whenever she wants. She can’t even count the number of times she’s come back from an awful shift, walked into Ryan’s room, and flopped down onto the bed beside her.

Her bed’s not softer than Mary’s. Mary obviously cared a lot more about her rest than Kate did, so Mary’s mattress is a dream. But Ryan’s room smells like a dialed down greenhouse. It smells alive and hopeful and earthy in a way that instantly calms Mary down. And when Mary’s having a really rough day, Ryan will put a pillow in her lap and run her hands through Mary’s hair until she stops seeing whatever gruesome wounds that she’s spent the last few hours dealing with. That’s not a crush. That’s… comfort. Intimacy. A deep, deep starvation for physical touch after a lifetime of parental neglect.

Friends can be affectionate. Friends can want to be close to each other.

She wants to be close to Luke. And to Sophie! She would love to curl up next to Sophie right now. Though, the more that Mary thinks about curling up with Sophie, the more she recognizes that it wouldn’t be the same as cozying up to Ryan. Ryan’s basically her same size. She’s got this warmth that radiates from her cheeks and her chest, and she hums songs and asks Mary to guess which song it is. Mary’s awful at this game, by the way. She usually ends up giving up, or drifting off to sleep while Ryan’s clearly picking songs that Mary — as someone who did not grow up in a Black household — did not grow up with.

(The one time Mary used that as a defense, Ryan had pointed out that Ryan didn’t grow up in a Black household either. Ryan grew up in a mismatch of cultures and identities in group homes before Mama Cora found her in high school. They’d made up for lost time with plenty of Miss Anita Baker and all the classics that Ryan had missed out on. The rest of Ryan’s cultural education came from other Black students and friends who’d either clowned her for not knowing a reference, or rushed to show her what their parents told them. It hadn’t been as simple as a natural osmosis for Ryan to feel at home with some of the cultural references around her.)

(Mary had whispered that it wasn’t easy for her either. Not with her mom working all the time and the rest of her Korean-American family out of reach. “There weren’t many Korean people in Gotham.” An understatement, but Ryan had leaned down and pressed a kiss to the crown of Mary’s head to comfort her. Sadness Mary hadn’t even known was still there had welled up. Liquified into tears that slipped onto Ryan’s pillow.)

(“It was—” Her breath had caught in her throat. The tears smeared her vision, which was fine, since all she could see from this angle were Ryan’s plants by the window anyway. “It was so lonely sometimes. And my dad…. With Kate… And Alice….” She couldn’t finish a single sentence. All the tears turned to sobs, and the sobs turned into this soul-clenching pressure in her chest.)

(Ryan had curled around Mary then. An arm found its way under Mary’s knees and softly tugged her into a tighter ball in Ryan’s lap. Ryan rocked them, whispered again and again, “It’s okay. Let it out. I got you. I’m here, Mary. I’m here.”)

Mary gulps now. “Ryan is….” She’s Mary’s roommate. Mary’s best friend. She’s the one who got Mary through losing Kate and who welcomed Mary onto the Bat Team. She’s the first person Mary calls whenever anything happens and literally the only person Mary could entrust The Hold Up to. She’s Batwoman, and…. And Mary has no idea what she would do without Ryan at this point. But it’s not like Mary wants to kiss Ryan. Just look at Ryan.

Look at Ryan in those ridiculous flannel shirts. She has twelve. Not including jackets. And she’s a woman, which is not Mary’s type. Mary hasn’t been super successful with her previous type, but they definitely have certain characteristics that Ryan does not. They don’t walk around in fluffy robes that they bought to spite their ex-girlfriends, or wake up super early after a late shift to use the workout bike that Mary still has never actually tried riding. They don’t make Mary sweet potato pancakes and encourage her to try out cooking on her off nights for stress relief. They don’t make her feel like home. They don’t…. Shit.

The lowest groan that Mary has ever done in her life grumbles out of her.

Sophie pops her lips. “There it is.”

Mary squeezes her eyes shut. “You’re not right. I don’t — I can’t — it’s Ryan.” She can’t fall for her best friend! She doesn’t have a backup bestie. “Besides!” Mary pops up to tell Sophie, “I have never once wanted to kiss her.”

Sophie raises an eyebrow in the smoothest, most silent way to ask, Are you sure?

(Mary got them breakfast the next morning. She couldn’t do the sweet potato pancakes, but she knew the right cafe to get Ryan’s favorite vegan chorizo burrito. She got back just as Ryan was finishing up a shower and called out, “Breakfast!”)

(Steam followed Ryan out of her bedroom. The tips of her hair dripped softly onto her shirt, just above her chest, and Mary couldn’t stop glancing down at it. Normally, she would’ve been able to, but that morning…. Ryan snatched up her burrito and flopped down onto the couch. On the first bite, Ryan let out a soft moan that somehow carried straight over to Mary. Maybe Mary made the wrong food choice? If the burrito was that good, and Mary could feel it, then she needed some of what Ryan was having.)

(“You’re brilliant,” Ryan said. Then she locked eyes with Mary and gestured with her burrito. “Anyone who would ever leave you behind is a dumbass. Full offense to the entire Hamilton-Kane family.” Ryan dug in for another bite, and Mary’s heart swelled in her chest. She couldn’t even smile with how full she felt. How warm and safe and loved. God, she loved Ryan. She really, really could spend the rest of her life like this.)

(Ryan’s face scrunched up. “Stop looking at me like that. I don’t care how hungry you look. I’m not sharing.”)

(Mary faked an outraged gasp. She wasn’t even hungry. Not anymore, not really. Still, she threw herself onto the couch beside Ryan. “I paid for it! Give me a bite!” Ryan squirmed away, and Mary had to cling to the curve of Ryan’s back to try and reach for the good. “Come on! Ryan!”)

(If Ryan was a guy, this is when Mary would’ve kissed him. Would’ve peppered his head and his cheeks and his nose with kisses until he turned just enough for her to kiss his full lips and suck his tongue into her mouth. To lose every bit of resistance in the soft brush of her hands, and the gentle curls of Ryan’s hair beneath her fingers. Ryan’s teeth nipping at her bottom lip, then her neck, then—)

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT!” Mary sinks even deeper into the couch. Then shoots up at the reminder of the memory of wanting to kiss Ryan on this exact freaking couch. She turns her wide eyes to Sophie. “What am I going to do?”

Sophie clicks her tongue. “Nope, I want nothing to do with that. Whatever happens there is between you and Ryan.”

“But what if….” Mary loses her words in a squeak. What if she doesn’t know what she wants to happen? What if she doesn’t want anything to happen? What if she’ll be totally fine, going about her business, continuing her life where she gets to occasionally cuddle up with her best friend in their apartment? Maybe she doesn’t need anything more than that. She’s made it this far, and she didn’t even know she had any sort of feelings, or attraction. She can keep on going now. She can be normal.

Not normal meaning straight, just normal meaning Mary’s normal state. Which was straight. Is straight?

Mary groans. “I hate my life.”

Sophie reaches for the wine bottle and fills Mary’s glass up to the brim. “Look on the bright side — at least you know who she is. No secret identities, or clandestine rendezvous. Unless you’re into that sort of thing.”

“I am apparently into a lot of things I didn’t know,” Mary mumbles.

Sophie sighs. “It’s not that different, and for you, maybe it’s not different at all. Maybe….” Sophie glances around the loft. Mary follows her eyes as they bounce from the wine to the hallway to the silly bat wall decals that Ryan got from Party City and put near the TV. Sophie nods her head, as she finds her words. “Ryan loves Halloween.”

“What?”

“Stick with me.” Sophie points to the bats, then the tiny plastic pumpkins from the checkout section of Target. “Ryan loves Halloween. She decorates the whole house around it because she loves it so much. But me, I grew up in a strict Christian household where Halloween was not what we did. We did Christmas. And you….”

Mary follows again. “We did a mix. Christmas and Hanukkah.”

Sophie winces. “Okay, a mix of holidays. You’re not strictly a one holiday kind of girl. And that’s fine.”

Mary glances back to the Halloween decorations. “So, in this metaphor—”

“It might be time to celebrate Halloween. Maybe you’ll love it. Maybe you’ll hate it. But it’s October now, so, get a costume, grab a pumpkin, and tell her how you feel.”

Okay. Mary can do that. Mary can totally do that. If she can handle Alice imploding her entire life in front of the whole world, then she can tell her roommate that she has a crush on her.

Maybe.

Someday.

When she’s ready.

“Can we, uh, work our way up to Halloween? I feel like I’m still hearing fireworks.”

Sophie grins at her. “Of course. We’ll go at your speed. And if you have any questions?”

Mary picks back up her wine glass and knocks back nearly half of it. “I’ll ask you. Or Parker. She’s incredibly knowledgeable for a teenager.” She probably wouldn’t use such convoluted metaphors either. It’s a win-win really. Great, last time Mary saw Parker, they were watching the lesbian drama; now Mary will be a part of it. Ugh. "I'm never living this down, am I?"

"Oh, absolutely not. Hey, Mary?" Sophie waits until Mary's turned her steadily narrowing gaze to her. "Never have I ever had a crush on Batwoman."

Mary flips Sophie off.

🦇

#mary hamilton #ryan wilder #mary x ryan #hamilbat #maryan #batwoman fic #mine #batwoman: s2 #batwoman: 213 #sophie moore #this was fun and then sad and then fun again. good times. #and they were roommates #and good night!

[catty-words]

since i’m only three-fourths of the way through the netflix series, only ever watched someone else play through the witcher 3, and never touched the books, i’m sure there’re people out there more familiar with the character who could argue that it’s all more nuanced, actually, but here’s my yennifer of vengerberg hot take anyway: the why can’t i have it all - a career and a family angle is the stupidest fucking Written By A Man direction to take her character because the false dichotomy between choosing professional and personal fulfillment is manufactured by a system that doesn’t respect the demands of motherhood, takes for grated that women will shoulder the burden anyway, and enjoys how that conveniently keeps them crowded into neat boxes and yennifer’s WHOLE THING is that she defies the boxes in which people put her. so to have her buy into the idea that she has a career at the expense of motherhood when the moment she did actually very much have and make a choice about which path she’d take was written as a huge and sexy fuck you to everyone who dared exploit her is utter crap. why would you walk that back by having her regret it? for what?? another female character to have infertility-woe poisoning? i’m tired.

#the shot of her removed vagina is hard fucking core #more of that energy please #less 'but think of the children!!' #no. i refuse.

[violetnotez]

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

(Requested) Hawks x reader

@chxcolxtemilk: Can I get an imagine with Hawks where the reader is his gf, and she got a BODY. She’s hourglass, slim thicc. Anyways. So during that intern arc where Bakugou and todoroki are like interning with Endeveour and it’s like a meeting and the work students are there and they all think reader fine af, but like mineta takes it overboard and hawks gets protective. Especially since readers hero costume shows off her curves please! Have a nice day ❤️

I read “slim thick” reader and my eyes went 👀👀👀-also sorry if this is a little wonky in the canon timeline cause my brain can’t function 😂😂

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

⤷Word Count: 1200+ (?-Im just guessing here sidfnsdifiw)

⤷Warnings: Pervy Mineta, cursing, the usallllll

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

Hawks stood in the back of the room, his arms crossed around his lean yet sturdy body, a smirk gracing his lips as he watched you speak with a loud welcoming voice to the newbies.

Hero schools across the nation were starting up their students for internships with hero agencies, and UA was no different. Countless teachers from that high school were shuffling their kids into agencies, and it was one of your duties to greet the students that were about to enter their internships for the other pros. It saved alot of time when one hero told the kids the do’s and don’ts of their internship, so you had sorta graciously took the role (you had lost a match of Rock Paper Scissors to Hawks and you were fuming).

Only you could make public speaking interesting to him-especially when you were in your hero suit (even if it sounded pretty perverted).

He couldnt help himself from letting his eyes wander around your frame- you were dating after all, it wasnt like you wouldnt want him to...but damn was that hero suit a blessing to his eyes. Whoever designed it, he wished he could perosnally thank them for making it so perfectly sexy on your frame.

 Your quirk relied on you to show a little more skin, as you needed to physically touch things in order to activate it. Which made it the perfect for Hawks (and others) to gawk at your curvacious figure- deep swoops on your chest, high cuts against your leg that showed off your hips, an expanse of the soft skin of your thigh….it was absolutely tantalizing to him and left his whole body throbbing every time he saw you in your suit.

Hawks felt his heart thump in his chest from the back of the room as he watched you bend down, apparently having dropped a piece of paper on the floor.

How you bent down gave the best view of your chest-the mounds pushed up so delciosuly he licked his lips from the sight- and then the nervous, innocent laugh you gave as you fiddled with your hair- god, you really just the most beautiful little birdie, werent you?

Hawks loveisck grin quickly melted away when he heard a slow whistle come from the seat in fornt of him- apparently somebody else found his little chickadee pretty too…

Immeidately Hawks felt his the feathers on his back ruffle- he usually wasnt protective at all, as long as  everyone knew that you were his and his only.

But oh, the moment he got a whiff of someone trying to flirt or be smitten with you-he immeidately did a 180, becoming fussy and dominant as he shielded you or sent the person a death glare behind a strained smile. 

“...could you imagine snuggling into her boobs? They must be so soft….” he heard a nasally, boyish voice whisper to his friend next to him, a few seats to his right.

Well-that was pretty fucking creepy.

Hawk’s head swiveled around, trying to find the voice. He was trying his best to not let his emotions do something rash-he didnt want to throw you off your task by doing something stupid. He was pretty known for his outgoing and filter-less peronality, so it was taking everything in him to just be calm for once, for your sake. Hawks quietly began to walk behind the seats of the kids, trying to find the owner of the voice.

“Ohhhh I would do anything for her if I could call her Mommy just once-”

The hell was this kid?! And how old was he to be making such nasty ass comments??

Hawks felt his cheeks flush, his eyes darting around, finaly landing on a student who seemed to be whispering to his friend with electric yellow hair.

He recognizied the kid with the bright hair- you had taken him on as a intern, his name was… Kalimari? Kanimari? 

He didnt quite remmeber, and frankly didnt really care that much as his eyes were trained on the kid next to him- he was so short, only his hair was visible from the seat- if you could it hair. Three balls of messy purple spheres were planted on his head as he leaned into the boy next to him.

“Hey Kaminari you think you wanna switch interns? Ill do anything, anything to just be next to her…”

“No way man!” the kid “Kaminari” whisiper yelled at him, “I landed a total babe as a intern, Im not loosing that-”

Hawks blinked a few times in complete shock- now this kid too! He knew you were a hit with the men (because hell he was a total fanboy before meeting you just because of how hot you were), but god he didnt realize you were popular with the teens too! It made sense, boys were pretty, well- interested- in women alot more at this age, but still- it bothered him how possessive he was getting because of these boys.

“Ahh please Denki!”

“Nah Mineta youre crazy!”

So his name was Mineta...Hawks leaned against the wall, his hands fidgeting as he tried to stay calm.

He might be petty enough to give a small call to his intern and see how he can make his life a little hellish….

Hawks drew his gaze back to you, hoping that maybe watching you speak will calm him down...but the kid wouldnt let up.

The whole time you were talking “Mineta” made every comment in the book, wondering “if you liked short guys”, “how big your butt was”, even asking if you had modeled lingerie….Hawks was pratically mortified for you.

Were all guys liked this? Cause god, if it was, he was going to have a problem...he felt his chest fluff out in dominance, his feathers pratically vibrating from agitation because of how possessive he was feeling and he couldnt do a single thing.

He watched you looked around the crowd, a soft radiant smile on your lips.

“Does anyone have any questions?” you asked as you peered up at the students.

Mineta instantly raised his hand, Hawks stomach churning with dread.

Unaware of the situation Hawks had just witnessed, you gave to boy a bright grin. 

“Yes?” you asked goodnaturedly.

Mineta sniffled, his voice nasally and somewhat desperate sounding. 

“Yeah I had a question- um, how big are you boo-”

Haha, nope.

Hawks instantly sent a bunch of feathers zooming towards Mineta, each one ramming into his open mouth. The force took over his frail body, the sight almost comical as his eyes grew wide with fear as he began to lean back, his pudgy hands flailing.

Hawks felt a small part of him inflate with dirty pride from his little trick, a lazy grin gracing his lips as everyone in the room turned around to watch him with complete shock.

“Sorry about that kiddos, had to just demonstrate somehting for you guys real quick...” Hawks looked down at you, your face blushing yet riddled with conufsion. He sent you a small smile, giving you a quick wink- “Ill tell you later” was written on his face as he turned his attention back to the students in fornt of him. 

“...when you intern with your heroes, show them some respect...cause words get around when you talk out of place-”

The Mineta kid turned around, sputtered coughs dribbling out of his mouth as he picked fluffs of feather off his tongue. His eyes widened as he turned around and realized what was going on, the #2 hero giving him the deadliest glare imaginable. 

Hawks could almost feel sympathy for the kid-almost. He must have realized who had shut him, after all, you two were dating (and Hawks had made sure that everyone knew that).

Hawks sauntered over, a dark grin wrapping against his complexion as he kneeled down to get to the kids level.

“I’d watch what you say, kid- my feathers can get sharper when I want them to,” 

A gulp could be heard from Mineta, his skin paling as the #2 hero, the one dating the pretty herione in front of him, had pretty much threatened him.

Yeah, he stayed quiet after that.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

Taggings:

Everything Taglist (All Fics, All Characters):

@bunnythepipsqueak​ @pasteldaze​  @ionlyspeakinmyheroacademia​     @notadrian​  @hithoeshi​ @sizzlingbarbarianglitter​ @sunnie-nugget​ @shoutosteakettle​ @we-mentally-unstable​ @sm0kingcrack​ @wesparklebitch @kac-chowsballs

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

Buy Me A Kofi| Masterlist

#bnha #bnha x reader #hawks x reader #hawks x reader imagine #bnha hawks x reader #keigo hawks x reader #hawks x y/n #hawks x you #mha hawks x reader #keigo hawks x you #bnha keigo x reader #keigo x reader #mha keigo x reader #keigo x reader fluff #keigo #mha hawks you #mha hawks x y/n