#but nobody knows nobody knows and it weighs on me i was so awful not even to be edgy but bc i was having these awful urges | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pillarsalt · 2 months

Note

hi um

I was? transmasc but recently I’ve been seeing a lot of really misogynistic sexist transphobic stuff from trans community and it’s just been totally accepted, even by other transmascs. It’s been going on for a while but recently there was a murder of a nonbinary afab person and yet the whole trans community here has been silent, instead screaming about a transfem user being banned or something? This isn’t the first time an afab trans persons suffering has been dismissed, but now right after this awful death, i see transfems making posts about how transmascs talking about their oppression are terfs.

I didn’t want to think about it but all i could think about was that it was weird how despite everyone claiming trans men have all this privilege, trans women always come first…they get the most representation, they get the fame the admiration and the opportunities, their voices are always the loudest and their problems always always come first no matter what.

But despite popular belief trans men’s issues aren’t actually less significant, in some cases we suffer far more than trans women especially in regard to sexual violence. Yet we are silenced. We are frequently left poor, we are discriminated against for our sex we are discriminated against for being trans we are discriminated against for being perceived as lesbians. Yet we are made to be silent?

Why are our voices less important than trans women’s?

And all I could think about was that this is how females are treated in every other area.

I don’t know what else to say… I tried so hard not to reach that conclusion because I don’t want to be transmysogynist but I kept coming back to it and I couldn’t find an argument against it. This is how females are treated. This is what male privilege look like. And if trans women have male privilege, then why the fuck am I sitting here letting them talk over me?

I just feel really really angry. Your a blog who I liked your art but I blocked you when I discovered you were a radfem, but I sort of had you in the back of my mind for some reason and now I feel lost and confused, and I don’t think I want to be part of the trans community anymore.

Hey anon, firstly I really appreciate your willingness to have an open discussion with me. This must be weighing on you pretty heavily.

Secondly, holy shit, you're right. While the entire website is treating this user's ban as a national travesty, I haven't seen a single person talking about Nex's murder despite how much they claim to care about trans people. That's really fucking low, and this situation does very much encapsulate the state of misogyny within the trans community.

And you're right, this IS how females are treated in every other area. Throughout history, the suffering and injustice women face is minimized, laughed at, ignored, and when we want to talk about it, we're shut down and told we're making people uncomfortable and our pain isn't that bad. And here we are again, with a female person's death outweighed by a male person's inconvenience.

The denial of sex-based oppression that permeates trans spaces is a blatant lie that can only be held together if nobody is allowed to acknowledge it, and those who do are punished. If the trans community truly stood behind what they say, discussion would be encouraged! The foundation of their movement would be backed up with facts and replicable science! But instead, they'll call you a bigot for pointing out systems of oppression you can see with your own eyes. Because if you do, transwomen's position as Most Oppressed, and therefore the final authority on what's right and wrong, collapses. You are correct when you say that it seems like transwomen always come first; I don't remember who said it first, but just look at magazine covers featuring trans people -- the transwomen are fully clothed CEOs, athletes, movie stars, but transmen mostly get on magazine covers for... being pregnant and half naked. Misogyny is built into every society on earth, and individuals simply calling themselves something else doesn't change that. And when you give male people free reign to be as misogynistic as they want without consequence, they'll grab that opportunity and hold on like their lives depend on it. The way they weaponize transmen's sex against them is indistinguishable from what 'cis' men do to 'cis' women, but if you ever speak out about it, somehow YOU'RE the one hurting THEM. They do not want transmascs to find solidarity with other female people, because then they would have to face the reality of their own place in a patriarchal world, and face the fact that there are experiences exclusive to female people and that we have the right to speak about it. I mean you see shit like this and the motives become completely transparent:

I do find it funny how hard the trans community and their allies work to prevent anyone from hearing what radfems have to say in case they "corrupt" you with mere words. A lot of the time, it's simply listening to transwomen themselves that sparks the feeling of "something's not right here" in your brain. That's what happened with me too. I'll tell you that most of us also used to be proponents of trans activism, many formerly identifying as trans too. You are seeing through manipulation, and I know it's quite shocking to realize. Even when I first started having doubts about trans rhetoric, I thought "well everyone else agrees about this, so I need to shut up and be nice about it even if I don't agree." It's an unpleasant place to be in. The cognitive dissonance is exhausting though, and it becomes impossible to ignore.

The mistreatment of transmasc people in the trans community by transfems is brutal, and It's hard to watch from the outside because I just want to say "Hey, you know you don't have to take this shit, right?" And you really don't. You are not at all a bad person for recognizing the frankly absurd amount of misogyny in the trans community. Feeling lost and confused is shitty, but it's normal for this situation. The best thing you can do is keep observing, keep reading, form your own opinions, and never let anyone tell you to shut up. Above all, prioritize yourself and your mental wellbeing. If you need to remove yourself from gender-related spaces and discussion for a while, that's totally alright. Just know you're not evil or a bigot for not blindly agreeing with everything the trans community has told you. Your opinions and experiences are worthwhile too.

#also i'm glad you like my art :) thank you #ask

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 1 year

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Number eight with Azriel please!

Hi, love! Here you go. A mishmash of angst, fluff and smut. Hope you enjoy!

Number eight: “I want my mate to tell me where the hell he was. Then he can get his comfort.”

Warnings: Depictions of toxic family relationships. Smut. 🌶️

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

“Are you alright?”

A warm hand landed on your arm, the pleasant scent of Mor’s perfume hitting you. The hint of vanilla was a source of comfort, a feeling of home.

Over your shoulder, you offered her a smile that didn’t meet your eyes. Nodded. She saw right through it.

Nobody understood better than she did — what it was like to return to the poison of the Court of Nightmares, where your estranged family lived. It had taken you years to get out of their vitriolic clutches, and the unexpected mating bond between you and the High Lord’s spymaster had been a saving grace; a reason to leave, a place to go. Life had been so colourful and vibrant since he’d taken you to live in Velaris with him; you’d never looked back.

Until tonight.

It had been entirely your choice. You knew nobody would have judged you if you’d chosen to stay behind. But a couple of months earlier, you’d grown sick of feeling useless and idle. You’d asked — begged — Rhysand to give you some sort of official role in his court; something for you to do. He’d been more than happy for you to play courtier, to perhaps even strengthen relations between the Night Court and the Court of Nightmares that had become strained over the years. Yes, you’d insisted, you could do it, and take away that sort of pressure from Mor, too. You’d sooner face your family than she have to face hers.

And perhaps you’d been a tad naive about how easily that might come to you. You’d had confidence in yourself, right up until you’d come face-to-face with your father, your brothers. They’d sneered at you at Azriel’s side and sneered at the Night Court attire you were decked head-to-toe in and sneered at your confidence. And sneered and sneered and sneered.

And suddenly you’d found yourself to be that cowering, tongue-tied victim again. You felt like an utter farce, parading around in such clothes and pretending to be confident. You weren’t sure you’d ever really gotten away from them, or ever really would.

And when your brother had feigned leaning in to kiss your cheek, and had uttered words that had sliced you all over, you’d known — you had failed.

“Whore.” He’d growled, his lip curling at the form-fitting, revealing dress you’d once felt comfortable in. “Mother would be ashamed of you, whore.”

You didn’t know if anybody else around you had heard. But the way your mate had tensed was indication enough that he was on high alert and ready to strike out if necessary. He remained that way for the entire evening.

You turned to face Mor, now, all of you having returned to the Town House. You didn’t bother to force a convincing tone as you answered, “I’m alright.”

“Let’s open some wine.” Her arm linked through yours, and she tried to pull you towards the doors to the kitchen. You planted your feet.

“Where is Az?”

The beautiful blonde pursed her lips, glancing over at Rhys and Cassian, who had also heard your question. You stared between the three of them, awaiting an answer. Your mate was nowhere to be found; had disappeared after setting you down on the doorstep.

“Where’s Azriel?” You repeated.

“He’s probably gone flying — to let off some steam.” Cassian said, not sounding at all convinced by his own words.

You heaved a sigh. What you needed, right now, was your mate with you. To hold you through the echoes of what had been an awful night. His absence was just another horrible layer.

“Come.” Mor tried to pull on your arm again.

“I’m really tired.” You slunk back. “I think I’m just going to head to bed.”

Her gaze swept over you for a moment, before she nodded, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “Sleep well, then.”

It was as you passed Rhys and Cassian that you stopped, utter exhaustion weighing you down.

“When he gets back,” you said, “tell him to just come to bed. Please.”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Hours passed. You didn’t sleep. Couldn’t. And still Azriel did not return.

You’d settled yourself at the glass doors that opened out onto the balcony, noting that you were as cold there as you had been in your empty bed, without a hard, warm body and wings to warm you. You tugged on that golden, glimmering cord of your bond, waiting for some response. But…nothing. Anxiety bloomed in you like nothing you’d ever felt.

It shaped a little into anger when you finally glimpsed a passing black form and, moments later, heard the front door opening and shutting downstairs. Relief was a weak flame snuffed out by irritation. Perhaps a little bit of hurt.

You caught the deep tenor of the three male voices below, deliberately lowered to make their words indiscernible. Perhaps it was that which snapped your tether and had you pushing to your feet. If he wasn’t going to come up and speak to you right away, give you some sort of explanation as to why he’d taken off and blocked you out, you would go to him and demand the answer.

You shucked a robe on, practically ripping your bedroom door off its hinges. There was a pause in the murmurs below, and you knew Rhys, Cassian and Azriel had all heard you leave your room and were awaiting your appearance. You hoped your footsteps padding loudly down the stairs were warning enough that you weren’t happy.

As you appeared in the doorway to the sitting room, all three males looked up. Azriel’s eyes swept over you — your nightgown and robe — and he looked just about ready to jump up and shield you from sight. You held a hand up, cutting that thought off before it could properly form.

“Don’t even start with the territorial male bullshit.” You said coldly. “No one’s staring at my tits.”

Both Cassian and Rhys cleared their throats, very deliberately making sure that their gazes were anywhere but on you. Azriel’s jaw ticked as you turned to him.

“Where have you been?” You demanded.

He said nothing, his eyes boring into yours. You raised an eyebrow in expectation, but it was Cassian who spoke up.

“…it’s been a long, tense night for everyone.” He reasoned. “Visiting the Court of Nightmares is never a pleasant experience. What you both need right now is each other’s comfort. Surely you just want to forget about tonight and—”

“I want my mate to tell me where the hell he was.” You snapped, not tearing your eyes from Azriel. “Then he can get his comfort.”

Cassian slunk back in seat, raising his eyebrows as he lifted his glass to his lips, drained it, and then reached for the bottle. You folded your arms over your chest, waiting.

Finally, Azriel shrugged. “I went back to the Hewn City to have a catch-up with my wonderful brother-in-law.”

You clenched your jaw. “Why.”

“Because he’s a cunt.”

You almost flinched at the utter venom in his tone. He was always soft-spoken, always guarded, precise and measured in the words he used. It wasn’t like him to just…let his anger speak for him.

“I didn’t ask you to do that.” You stared at him. “Why would you—”

“Nobody talks to — or about — my mate like that.” He seethed. “Nobody.”

So he’d heard exactly what your brother had said. And he’d bided his time — before striking.

And of course, a part of you, somewhere beneath the anger, adored him even more for it. But it would just make things worse in the long run. It would make it harder for you to return to the Hewn City and represent the Night Court without your family seeing it as their personal mission to terrorise you whenever they could. You’d left to get away from that. To grow.

“So…what?” You shrugged. “You killed him?”

Azriel stared at you, his eyes molten. “I could have done, you know. The Mother knows, I wanted to. But that kill is yours, should you ever want it. I just took the time to remind him that his death could come a lot sooner if he chooses to disrespect you like that.”

“You had no right, Azriel—”

“He called you a—”

“I know precisely what he called me. What he said.” You spat. “I grew up around it. I’m used to it. But you’ve gone and made it worse.”

Az’s jaw clenched. “How.”

“Do you know what they think?” A lump formed in your throat that you swallowed down hard. “They think me weak and foolish. They think you seduced me away from them. They think that I was brought to the Night Court merely to service you, and Cassian and Rhys.”

You took a shuddering breath, your eyes pricking with tears. “And those thoughts? I couldn’t care less about them. They’re pathetic, and they mean nothing to me. But I do care that they think I’m weak. I care that they think me too much of a pathetic, cowering female to speak up for myself, because I’m not.”

Azriel’s eyes softened. “I know you’re not.”

“But by dealing with my brother on my behalf, you’ve only confirmed that for them. It’ll only make it ten times worse the next time I visit.”

You could see understanding dawning in his eyes. And a rational part of you knew that he’d acted on the carnal impulse of a male protecting his mate — that he hadn’t stopped to think about any of this. That he loved you.

But you…you couldn’t give over to that rationality right now. Not when you were still so angry, still so shaken by what had happened. You didn’t blame Azriel for wanting to protect you; to act without speaking to you first, however, made you feel as weak as your family thought you to be.

You wiped your tears away, shaking your head. “I’m going to bed.”

“I’ll come with you—”

“No.” You turned. “Stay and enjoy your drink.”

The words hit their mark, and you saw the scathing hurt in his eyes as he slumped back. You’d probably regret it later.

But in that moment, you were too tired to care.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Despite your exhaustion, sleep didn’t find you properly. You drifted in and out fitfully, every little noise seeming to jolt you awake. Every single time, you found yourself glancing over to the empty space beside you.

You weren’t sure how long you lay there for, but your anger steadily morphed into loneliness, and trying to sleep without Az curled around you left you feeling as empty and cold as arguing with him had. You hated fighting with him.

And you knew he’d meant well. That he’d just been defending you because he loved you. Already, you were wishing you hadn’t been so hard on him.

You jerked awake again as you heard the door slowly creak open. You watched through heavy eyes as Azriel filed in, making a conscious effort to be as quiet as possible — before noticing you were awake.

He studied you for just a moment, and then dragged his feet to the end of the bed. He slumped down onto his front, his long body stretching from the foot of the bed, right up to where you lay. You watched, allowing him to slot himself between your legs. He rested his head on your belly.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured, pressing a kiss against it. He gazed up at you through thick, dark lashes. “Really sorry.”

You breathed a soft sigh, your hand reaching out to brush strands of hair from his face. “I’m sorry, too.”

“What could you possibly have to be sorry for?”

You shrugged. Your fingers toyed absentmindedly with his hair as you said, “I shouldn’t have been so hard on you. I know you were only defending me.”

“I was blinded by my own rage at your brother, though. I should have thought more about how you felt. You must never, ever think yourself weak. You’re the furthest thing from it.”

A soft smile played on your lips. Az’s chin dug into your lower belly as he peered up at you, his fingers brushing indolent circles on your outer thighs. Your own eyes were hooded as you stared back at him — your mate. You loved him so ferociously.

He hadn’t even thought twice about defending you, even against a baseless insult.

“I really am sorry.” He pressed another kiss to the soft skin of your belly, the muscles there contracting at the sensation. “It’s such an honour for me to defend you that I sometimes forget you don’t need me to.”

“Don’t get me wrong, Az.” You watched him — watched his nose graze the silk of your nightgown. “I love it when you stand up for me. And had that been anyone else, I would have left you to it. But with them, it’s just…complicated. I suppose I still feel like I have something to prove.”

“You don’t. But it’s going to take time for you to realise that.” His tongue poked out, licking the fabric of the indentation where your belly button was. “You know, don’t you? That what your brother said was ridiculous. The only people your mother would feel disappointed in are them.”

Your breath hitched at the sensation of his tongue moving through the fabric. You tried to stay your thoughts, to remain on subject. “I…I know.”

“You’re incredible.” He shifted down, pulling your nightgown up as he did. “Beautiful.” He pressed a kiss to your now-exposed navel. “Strong.”

The cold air of the room brushed over your bare sex, and you jerked as Az nuzzled his face against your fine dusting of hair just above. He grazed his lips there, breathing in your scent.

“Why don’t you come to bed?” You breathed, brushing his hair back. “It’s late. You must be tired.”

“Mm.” He hummed. “After I’ve apologised.”

You had no objections as he finally dipped his head, levelling his face with the very centre of you. His eyes flicked up momentarily to meet yours, and then he dove in.

Your head fell back, a low moan escaping you as his tongue swiped out and licked a stripe right up you, from your entrance, up, up to your clit. He kissed the area first, his lips a sensuous scrape against the sensitive nub of nerves. Your hips lifted off the bed, and he slid his hand up, pressing them back down.

“I love you.” He breathed the words onto the damp heat of you — a place he had worshipped time and time before, and would continue to do so as the world and its stories changed around you.

“I love you too.” You breathed, and another moan broke from your throat as his tongue swirled around your clit. “Gods, Az.”

You felt him smile against you, and you utterly melted into the bed as he began his expert worship of your body, always knowing which areas drew which sensations from you, which touches had you moaning the loudest.

His tongue built up its pace, working at your clit as he slipped a hand down, gathering up your wetness on his fingers. He slipped one into you, pumping a few times, curling it inside you, and you gasped.

“Another?” He murmured against you, teeth grazing just slightly.

A small whimper left you. “Yes. Yes.”

And so he slipped a second finger in, and you were happy to give over to every sensation in your body as he began to pump in and out, his fingers moving in tandem with his tongue. Tension coiled low in your stomach, a dull, pleasant ache that was building and building until your legs were trembling.

“Az.” You groaned, hips lifting again. “Fuck, I’m gonna…”

“Take it.” He lapped at you, lapped and lapped as if he might never get another taste. “Take everything you need. Cum for me.”

Only a few more thrusts of his fingers, a few more strokes of his tongue, and you were tumbling off that precipice into place of weightless elation, stars bursting in your eyes, your ears ringing, your body shaking. Az continued to lick and stroke you through it all, murmuring encouraging, soothing words.

And when the force of your climax subsided, and you were utterly spent, he pulled his fingers out of you. Sucked your wetness from them. And then climbed up the bed to lay beside you.

He was very clearly hard as a rock, the outline of his straining cock visible. You made to reach for him, but he gently took your hand.

“No.” He said softly. “This was about you. We have tomorrow. And the day after that.” He leaned down, kissing your head. “And all the ones after that. But now it’s time for sleep.”

You didn’t protest as he lay properly beside you, tugging you against him and pulling the blankets around you. His fingers laced through yours, both your hands resting on your stomach.

“I’m so proud of you.” He whispered into the darkness, kissing the nape of your neck. “So fucking proud.”

You smiled, relaxing into him. Closed your eyes.

You were just drifting off as you heard him murmur, beneath his breath:

“My mate. My entire world.”

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azriel tag list: @hanasakr @positivewitch @ruler-of-hades @brekkershadowsinger @nightscourtt @imperfect0angel @luna-1-3-5 @hyacinthoideshispanica @lucyysthings @lahoete @littlemoonash @blacksstarrynight @azriels-mate123 @ghostly-poetic @frieddesigninspiringquotesslime @a-frog-with-a-laptop @illyriansimp @morrie-rose @passingthroughfireandshadow @illyrian-dreamer @azrielsbabyg @96jnie @mich0731 @mulansaucey @truthtellerfanclub @acourtofbooksandmagic @insightsonmylife @basicbittywitty @curbside-cyanide @acourtofchaosandmess @123345566 @starrynights-frostbites @eos-princess @thesillyyogourt @ona-raising-07-l @acediahamartia @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @polli05927 @asdfjklbooks @azriel-luvr @amysangel @humanpersonlasttimeichecked @wildflowernightmere

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cat3ch1sm · 8 months

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hii i think this is my first time requesting from you so hopefully I do it right..

can you do sfw headcannons of Hisoka, illumi, and Kurapika with an s/o who has a terrifying nen aura? like stronger and more menacing then theirs? and can you do gender neutral reader? thanks :]

🕷️~ hello!! welcome to my inbox 💚 thanks for your request! if you’re ever wondering what info to put in a request just view the pinned post on my profile! tyy <33

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅) gn!reader, sfw

𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐤𝐚, 𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐢, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐤𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧 𝐬/𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐚

hisoka

hisoka isn’t usually fazed by anyone’s aura because his own is so overpowering. his aura is just so eerie and unsettling that he never needs to pay any mind to anyone else’s because he’s usually the one people stay away from. but when you enter the picture, that all changes. the second you even enter a building every person in there is instantly weighed down by the darkness and menace of your aura, including hisoka, and he can’t help but feel fearful because that is simply the only emotion your aura allows anyone around it to feel. but fear doesn’t affect hisoka like it does other people. rather, he’s intrigued.

hisoka obviously has a thing for people who can kill him, so he likes to be around you just for the twisted euphoria he experiences of being actually genuinely scared. he knows that if you wanted to or he made one wrong move, that you could kill him in a second, and that fills him with an uncanny amount of pleasure. as a matter of fact, he’ll regularly push your boundaries just to feel the rush when your aura spikes. it’s like his favorite thing to do

illumi

okay let me just say you’ve gotta be pretty goddamn scary to overshadow an aura like illumi’s. even when he’s not trying he’s still scary as shit 🙏🏾

illumi isn’t someone who normally feels things like fear, anxiety, anything along those lines. but when he first encounters you, he can’t deny the overpowering sense of dread he’s filled with when he’s even near you. it’s not like he’s legitimately scared of you or anything, but it’s more like trepidation is literally forced into him. like he has no choice but to fear your aura. this is a brand-new thing to him, too- not even the phantom troupe or anyone in his family has such an awful presence. and to be honest, illumi doesn’t like having the tables turned on him- he’s usually the one people run away from and go out of their way to avoid.

i imagine he’d watch you from a distance for a while- either by having needle people go keep tabs on you or by constructing some other nen tactic so he can observe you. the dread that comes with being too close to you and that horrible aura is too much for him to handle for now, especially since like i said it’s a new feeling. i think only after illumi has watched you long enough to discover a weakness that he’s able to exploit would he go and approach you, so if you try and pull something illumi can have a better chance at taking you out.

illumi’s next thought, though, is to make an ally out of you- and what better way to do that than have you literally join his family? that’s what causes him to seek you out in a “romantic” way- his goal is literally immediately just to marry you so you become a zoldyck and can’t turn against him.

i feel like during the relationship illumi might be a bit distant for the reasons i listed earlier. also illumi just isn’t a clingy or affectionate person. with how powerful your nen is and the hostile nature of your aura illumi isn’t inclined to be near you often. basically you both just do your own thing, but illumi does keep tabs on you and still doesn’t let you see other people. not that anybody wants to because you’re scary but still😭

kurapika

realistically, i doubt kurapika would be with anyone whose aura is this horrible. it reminds him way too much of the spiders. and in his mind, nobody with an aura as ghastly as yours can mean anything good for anyone. plus, kurapika has destructive tendencies of his own, so having someone even worse than him around would not benefit him at all. so i think he’d want to stay far away from you, and would be protective of those around him when you’re near.

but because these are headcanons and we are supposed to be delusional, let’s say that kurapika isn’t immediately deterred by your nightmarish aura. his mind goes a similar route to illumi’s, so Kurapika is going to want to get you on his side for sure. he isn’t someone who approaches people that much, so he devises a situation in which you both can be alone so he can try and develop some sort of bond which you can build on.

usually Kurapika would be more protective than not of people he’s in a relationship with, but not with you. he kind of keeps his distance, actually. if you want to do something dangerous or deadly he just steps back and lets you. he doesn’t feel the need to protect you at all, more so like protecting other people from you lmao 😭

these were mid asf but it’s 2 am 💔 i hope u enjoyed <33

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leavesdriftinginthewind · 1 year

Text

I think what pisses me off most about the Wednesday fandom is that so many are intentionally ignoring the fact that Tyler is MEANT to be a tragic character because he is a Hyde. We basically have it beaten over our heads that Hydes are the outcasts of outcasts, deemed too difficult to help, and therefore abandoned and left to their own devices, basically giving them no way to NOT be tortured into being someone’s slave or ultimately having something tragic or awful happen to them that forces out their Hyde and leaving them to become a monster and/or get killed.

So many people blame Tyler for every bad thing that happened in this first season when he LITERALLY had no option but to do exactly as Laurel wished. He was TOLD to go murder the people he murdered, he was TOLD to get Wednesday to trust him, he was TOLD to go after Eugene, he had no CHOICE but to obey, it’s literally in the show’s lore. And we are both told AND shown what lengths Laurel went to to literally torture this teenage boy into becoming a monster that was FORCED to obey her. Not only that, but all that “mama” talk and physical touch is gag-worthy. SHE is the true monster who wanted everyone dead, and she ruined that boy’s life to try and get what she wanted. And the show INTENTIONALLY shows AND tells you all that.

We are SHOWN how Tyler was chained, beaten, poisoned to bring the Hyde out, to become Laurel’s perfect slave. And still so many see HIM as the “true villain,” stating that if he was truly “good” he never would’ve done all he did. Meanwhile the lore has TOLD you, Hydes have no choice. But WAY too many disregard this plot point entirely simply because they see it as something to cling to for their preferred ship to happen. That’s infuriating to me, truly. Not only from a standpoint of really loving Tyler as a character, but also from a standpoint of it being apparent to ME of where the story is going, and knowing that so much of the fandom is gonna be pissed off about it because it’s Tyler-centric.

We are given so much information about “Hydes have been banned from Nevermore for 30 years,” “Faulkner was studying Hydes but he died before he could finish his research,” “nobody knows for sure if, once unlocked, Hydes are only monsters or if the person they were is still in there.” Between all this within the narrative itself and Hunter talking about how he’s excited to explore the duality of the Real Tyler versus the Hyde next season, I think it’s obvious that Wednesday and Tyler are basically going to get to the bottom of this “are Hydes all 100% bad and dangerous” problem themselves, and the result of their research will probably get Hydes accepted back into Nevermore.

Wednesday already knows how unjust the whole system is, she mentions it FREQUENTLY in the first season. Once she gets past feeling betrayed by what happened in season one, it’s likely going to weigh on her that someone she cared about deeply enough to bring her walls down for, to actually seek out to KISS, was so hurt by this system that he ended up doing all he did. And Tyler is inevitably returning, the writers have talked about how we’re going to learn more about Tyler and explore his true feelings for Wednesday. They’ll be brought back together, no doubt. And thus, the deep dive on Hydes will probably begin.

I don’t care what you ship, I don’t even care if you really LIKE Tyler as a character, but I DO care that so many have made him out to be a pure villain simply because that suits their own personal narrative better, and makes them feel like it’s more likely their preferred ship will win the “war.” Like, try and WATCH a show, actually WATCH it, and not simply cling to bits and pieces that suit the storyline you’ve made up in your head. You’re SUPPOSED to hate LAUREL, you’re supposed to, at the very least, wonder if the Real Tyler is still in there, if he can be helped, and you are SUPPOSED to feel some pity for the boy who was forced into becoming an enslaved monster.

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kirihoon · 10 months

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READER WHO CRIES WHEN THEY'RE NOT TAKEN SERIOUSLY like katsuki chuckling at reader getting annoyed/upset at something he did and they cryyy 🥺

This is my first ask! omg, so exciting. I'll try my best.

Bakugou Katsuki laughing at you.

You've had an awful day. In fact, you've been having a lot of awful days lately. You just got a job after years of working your ass off at uni. You were so excited. It's your first job! Your first step into the real world! Yeah, you really set yourself up for disappointment.

Since you were new, no one cared for what you had to say. They would dismiss you or act like you didn't exist. Who cares about your opinion on the project? Who would give a shit about your ideas for improvement? Just go get us some coffee, newbie.

You were heartbroken to say the least. It's been about a month of this and you were running out of optimism. You kept looking for silver linings when they finally turned gray.

As you enter the apartment you share with your boyfriend, you sigh. Taking off your shoes and sitting at the coffee table. You open your laptop and look at the new design for the building that your team was trying to get approved.

Despite the shit you go through, you can't help but love your job. You've always had a passion for architecture and design. You could envision it in your eyes and the endless ideas float in your mind.

"Hey, brat, you seem busy." you don't even notice Katsuki enter the apartment. He stands there in casual clothes with hair slightly wet. He probably showered at the agency.

"Hi, Kats. It's just stuff for work." You try to say nonchalantly but the stress of work was weighing down on you. You haven't told Katsuki any of this because he was so proud of you for getting the job! You can't disappoint him!

"Yeah? Are you okay? You seem down." you sigh and muster up a smile.

"Of course I am, honey." You could see that he definitely does not believe it. He can read you too well. You look at him with pleading eyes and he takes the hint. Dropping the subject.

He sits by you and looks at your laptop, "What's that?"

You know what he's trying to do and you appreciate it. He knows how much you love to talk about what you do, it never fails to put a smile on your face.

"Oh! Let me tell you all about it!" You start talking about the project and there's a sparkle in your eyes as you recount all the ideas you have.

Suddenly, you hear it. Laughing. Katsuki's laughing. Directed at you.

Your heart breaks and you stop talking. Afraid your voice will crack if you do. You're frozen in your spot as your heart races and the world starts to cave in. You have a flashback to your coworkers. All of them laughing at you trying to give your ideas and present your work.

Tears well up in your eyes and your lip quivers. You can't even bother looking at him. Nobody takes you seriously. Not even him.

Were your ideas really that shitty? Shitty enough that even your boyfriend finds it laughable?

You close your laptop and abruptly stand up. You run to the bathroom still clutching your laptop to your chest. You lock it and crouch down to sob some more.

"Y/N! Baby, what's going on? What's the matter?" You hear Katsuki's shaky voice. He's panicking. You know he is. But you sob even more.

Katsuki follows you. Now there's only a door separating you.

"Baby, please, tell me what's going on. Are you hurt?" he starts asking a lot of questions. Questions that you don't have it in you to answer yet.

"Damn it, Y/n! Open the door! Please!" despite your on-going breakdown, you still appreciate Katsuki's patience. You know what he really wants to do is to blast the door away. He's had a lot of growth since you two started dating. Both of you have. You try to calm down as you recall that one of the things that made your relationship as strong as it is today is the promise of communication.

"J-just. Give me.. please, uh give me some time?" you stutter out in between sobs. Meanwhile, Katsuki sighs. There still panic in his eyes and deep worry etched on his face but at least you responded.

"Okay, I'm right out here." he sat down leaning his back against the door. He thinks about what could possible have happened.

After almost a half hour, you emerge. Katsuki is quick to stand and look at you, scanning if there are any physical injuries. He's just about to ask you again if you're okay but he's frozen. His heart aches at the redness of your puffy eyes and tear streaks down your face.

You both stand in silence. Him due to concern meanwhile you due to shame. Shame of your sudden outburst. Shame of your ideas. Shame of your shitty job. and finally, shame that even your boyfriend doesn't seem to think you're capable.

He's a hero for fuck's sake, he saves people for a living. You can't even do your office job right and here you are throwing a tantrum.

You can't help the shakiness of your voice as you finally break the deafening silence. "Do you- do.." you take a moment to try to compose yourself. "Are my ideas really that pathetic?". You look at him as tears reappear in your eyes.

Katsuki looks at you confused, he tilts his head and his eyebrows scrunch. "What?" He's wiping away the tears before he can even think about it. He caresses your cheeks as he steps closer. "What are you saying, baby? What's wrong?"

You look down and lean away from his hands. "You- you laughed. Why?" A million thoughts race in your mind. Did he finally see that you're not competent enough for a hero like him? Is he gonna break up with you? Maybe your coworkers were right about you.

Now, Katsuki's even more confused, trying to recall when he laughed. Finally he recalls the moment right before you stormed off. His gaze softens and he takes your hand in his.

"Honey, no, I wasn't laughing." Your sadness turns into anger at his words. "You're lying! I heard you! You can't gaslight your way out of this. If you have something to say, just say it!" You were shaking at this points. You didn't actually mean it. In fact, you didn't want to hear what he had to say. You weren't sure you could handle it.

"I chuckled." Now it's your turn to look confused. "Yeah, that's the fucking issue, Katsuki."

"No, no, you don't understand. I didn't laugh, i chuckled. Heck, it was even closer to a giggle." You looked at him as if he was talking nonsense. and in your mind, it really didn't make any sense.

"You were so excited, talking about your project. I always love it when you do. You're so damn passionate and determined - it's one of the reasons I liked you in the first place. You were different from the other extras." you can't stop the hint of a smile that appears on your lips which he immediately notices. He visibly relaxes a bit and smirks.

The smirk changes into a smile as he says the following "I was so proud. You were adorable as you work on your dream job. I couldn't help but smile. Apparently not only smile but also chuckle."

"Honey, I wasn't making fun of you. I promise."

Your anger dissipates and your sadness reemerges. Tears stream down your face as you hug Katsuki. You sob while venting about work, and how you feel, the imposter syndrome, just everything. He listens and rocks you back and forth trying to soothe you. He kissed the top of your head. He's never been good with words, so he does what he can do to show that he's here for you. His first instinct was actually to get mad at your coworkers and boss, but he knows now is not the time. His baby needs him. He carries you bridal style to your bedroom as you continue to cry and recount your shitty month. He orders some food and puts on your favorite movie and he hugs and kisses you, offering you a few encouraging words.

Weeks later he tells you to quit your job. He pulled some strings and now you're working on a brand new building. All from scratch. An amazing and high-tech building for the newly formed DynaRiot Agency. You both celebrate and you go to work as soon as you can. After all, DynaMight only settles for the best.

yeah, idk anything abt architecture, im sorry. not proofread. umm, hope you like it! im not rly good with the comfort thing so this is the best i could do haha. weird ending i know.

#i rly like kats calling me honey #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha fluff #mha fluff #bnha imagines #bnha scenarios #bakugou x reader #bakugou imagine #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha headcannons #bakugou angst #bnha angst

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hockeymenarehot · 4 months

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"Prove it." feat. Bill Kaulitz

bill kaulitz x fem!reader

warnings: smut, riding, p in v, unprotected, hinted inexperienced reader, innocent? reader, corruption kink, degradation, name calling (slut), semi-public sex (nobody hears you two), outdoor sex, fem masturbation, implied oral at the end, not proofread i got lazy, let me know if I missed anything!

you're wearing a dress in this, here's the inspo pic: [pinterest link]

summary: bill kaulitz is known for being the leader of a garage band popular in your small town. he's always piqued your interest, and your friend is able to get you into one of his shows. problem is, he's way hotter than you imagined.

wc: 2.1k

You've always lived in a small, relatively quiet town. You're the "girl next door" type, always willing to help those in need, putting others before yourself. But you do carry your flaws, one of those being your insatiable appetite for the bad boys. One specific bad boy has recently caught your eye, and your lust and desire for him is becoming almost unbearable.

Bill Kaulitz, the man every father in your town knows to keep his daughter away from. He's the leader of his own garage band, Tokio Hotel. Him and his band are the only thing disrupting the peace in your quiet little town, and you find him and his black eyeliner unspeakably hot. You love how he breaks the rules, but what you really want him to break is you.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" you almost whisper. "Completely positive." says your best friend before she grabs your arm, dragging you to her room. Your best friend had just revealed to you that she knew where your favorite band, Tokio Hotel, was playing tonight. They don't give the location out to just anybody, and they typically play in relatively secluded areas, only making a true show of themselves when they want to get caught and chased for the adrenaline. Tonight they just wanted to play, and your best friend knew the address. "But what if he sees me?" you exclaim, still being practically dragged up the stairs. "That's the whole point, and also why I'm here to make you look as hot as possible. Honestly I'm doing you a huge favor." "But I don't own anything that's-" you trail off as the two of you enter your bedroom, and your eyes widen as you see the skimpy dress laid out on your bed. "Oh no no no, this is not happening!" "Why not? You're already smokin', you just need something to show it off! Plus, if you're serious about this, you need something to grab his attention. Now put that dress on and sit down so I can do your hair and makeup." You contemplate for a second, weighing the outcome of your decisions, before you decide that you've been abiding by the rules for far too long now. If you wanted Bill to notice you at all, you needed to bring yourself up to his level. So, you grab the dress before motioning for your friend to turn around.

The dress was a little bit tight around your waist, but you assumed it was to accentuate your curves. It sure as hell did the job though. The dress was perfect, a cute black and white dress that screamed "I'm sweet and innocent" and "Fuck me" all at the same time. As you stared in awe into the mirror, your friend let out a small giggle "I told you it would look great on you. But also we don't have much time, hurry and sit down so I can finish you up." You glared at her for her tone, but complied and sat down.

It took around 2 hours for her to do your makeup and hair, finishing with a glittery yet smokey makeup look and cute updo. Your overall outfit was very you, but also super sexy. Before you knew it, your friend was dragging your arm again, except this time you were being drug away out the door and to her car.

You and your friend had been in the car for 45 minutes, blasting music to try and ease your nerves. You were admittedly very fidgety, your main worry being rejected or not noticed at all. Hell, what if he ignored you? If that happened, you were sure you would buy the next flight to the other side of the country. "Hey," your friend finally spoke up, "You're shaking the entire car, ease up, won't you? You look amazing, he's going to notice you, trust me." "And if he doesn't?" She gives you a quick smile "He will."

After an hour in the car you finally pulled into a small grassy lot in the middle of the woods, where there were about 30 other cars and a bonfire lit in the distance. You could already hear the blasting of music. Your friend pulled into a parking spot, well more like made her own, and you two got out and started walking towards the crowd of people and the fire. You kept trying to pull your dress down, it seemed to have a mind of its own and kept riding up your thigh as you walked. Your friend grabbed your hand, "The more skin, the better. Trust me." and gave you a wink. You two entered the crowd of people, and the music rung in your ears. The smell of alcohol was pungent. It wasn't long before your friend saw somebody she knew, and she said a quick "I'll be right back" and darting off before you could complain. You stood there for a second, before deciding that you definitely didn't come all this way for nothing, and you were no longer going to be a pussy. You elbowed your way through the crowd, getting some rude glares and a couple "watch where your fucking going"'s before you finally reached him. It was your first time really, truly seeing him. Him and his band were surrounded by people, and to be honest, his music was amazing live. It didn't compare to the SoundCloud quality you were used to. You were able to get a front spot, unbearably close to him. You could practically smell him. Standing there for a while, you were able to take in the full sight of him. He was wearing tight skinny jeans, a black & red shirt, and a black leather jacket. His spiky hair was perfect, you had to stop yourself from taking a couple more steps to reach out and touch it.

You had been full staring at this man for a while before he glanced over at you, and you locked eyes with him. You swear you could actually feel your heart pound against your ribcage as he looked you up and down like you were his next meal. He gave you a subtle smirk before continuing his song. You were still staring at him, your face heating up. Except this time you weren't imaging how soft his hair would be to comb through, rather how nice it would feel to pull and tug on it while he ate you out. You could feel yourself becoming wetter and wetter in his presence, and the dull ache forming in your stomach was becoming more and more unbearable. You knew you couldn't go on like this, you might actually explode. You quickly shifted around and sped walk through the crowd again, making a break for the woods, trying to find the tallest tree to hide behind.

You honestly couldn't help it, he was just too fine. If you really thought about it, the predicament you were currently in was totally his fault. Your fingers were knuckle deep in your pussy, trying to curl your fingers into the right spot. Your dress was rode all the way up to your stomach, your panties moved to the side. You were trying to do anything to alleviate the knot in your stomach, but maybe your mind was telling you how much this was not a good idea. You stopped caring as you found a good rhythm, your other hand coming down to rub your clit in sync with your fingers, coming closer and closer to bliss. You were so lost in your fantasies about you and Bill that you didn't quite catch the stopping of the music, the cars driving away, and you certainly didn't catch the way you moaned loudly moaned his name.

This went on for a while, your eyes screwed shut and your fingers just not being enough before you became frustrated. You pulled your fingers out and opened your eyes. At first, you thought it was just your eyes adjusting to what little light there was, causing you to see things. But you could actually feel yourself stop breathing when you realized Bill was quite literally standing in front of you.

"Well what do we have here? Are you having fun? Well, by what I've seen you haven't been able to hit the edge have you?" He spoke in a tone full of lust. "I-..." But you stopped yourself, realizing you didn't have an excuse for what you'd been caught doing. You looked up at him with pleading eyes, not wanting him to tell anybody. You would've missed his very prominent boner if it weren't for him palming himself through his jeans. "C'mon now, don't be shy. You can't get me all hard like this and not talk to me. What is it you want?" You thought for a second before responding "You. I want you." he smirked, taking his belt off before he said "Prove it."

That was how you found yourself in your current predicament. Bill was sat down, his back to a large tree, while you tried your best to ride his cock. "Come on, pretty. I know you can do better than that." he breathed. You grabbed his hips, trying your best to lift yourself up. You had been going at this for quite some time now, and your legs were shaking, your pussy spent. Your hair was dishelved and you were practically sticking to him because of your sweat. His cock was insanely large, you had never felt so full in your life. "Please-! I can't take it, please just fuck me!" you begged. He let out a small laugh before grabbing your chin, forcing you to make eye contact with him. "Didn't I tell you? You have to prove yourself. Are you already so cockdrunk you've lost your memory, or are you really just that dumb of a slut?" You could feel tears welling, but because of the pleasure you were feeling. You clenched hard around him at his filthy words, finding new strength to bring yourself up before you slammed back down onto his cock with a loud moan. "Wow you really are a slut, getting off to me calling you names. What a bad girl you are." You moaned again at his words, and even more as he started thrusting his hips up to meet your new found rhythm, obviously wanting to cum from waiting this long. You tried your best to keep up, slamming down onto him harder and harder, feeling that sweet spot being brushed every so often. You had never felt a sensation like this before, never felt so full. You were beginning to leak onto his pelvis, leaving a glistening spot. The air was filled with grunts and moans, and chants of his name. Bill began growing more and more impatient, and eventually decided you and proven yourself. He muttered a "Good girl", making your walls flutter before he flipped you over and you found yourself on all fours. "Ass up," he ordered before he started pistoning into you at an ungodly pace. His name fell from your mouth like a mantra, and you only had the strength to hold yourself up on your elbows. Bill watched as his cock disappeared into your willing pussy over and over again, admired the way your ass bounced a little each time he would enter you. Your moans became louder and louder, and you screamed as he abused your sweet spot, feeling the pleasure ripple through your body. He could feel the way you squeezed around him and reached down to pinch and rub your clit stimulating you even more. "Just like that," He moaned at the sensation of you squeezing him, and you could feel him twitch inside you. The pleasure was unbearable and you continued to moan his name, your vision becoming fuzzy and little stars forming. He gave one last deep thrust, brushing your cervix before you came hard, screaming his name. He came with a grunt, shooting his load deep inside you.

He rolled you back over, lifting you up a bit to keep your body safe from the elements of the woods. You smiled up at him a bit for the small gesture, your forearm covering your forehead. You watched his heaving chest as it glistened with sweat before he spoke,

"You honestly thought that was enough to prove yourself?" Before he sat you up on your knees.

Thanks for reading! Remember to take care of yourself. :)

#bill kaulitz smut #bill kaulitz x reader #tokio hotel smut #smut #fanfic #x reader #going crazy #tokio hotel x reader #bill kaulitz fanfic

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artificial-transmutations · 1 year

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Spice up

Lukas looked at his phone skeptically. He usually didn't believe in those kind of change-your-habits-apps, but his husband, Craig was motivated enough for the two of them.

"So..." Lukas said slowly, "and you are sure this app will help us spice things up a bit in the bedroom?"

Craig blushed. It had taken him a lot of effort to even ask Lukas something like this. The truth was, even though (or perhaps because) they were married for over a year now, there wasn't much going on in the bedroom department. "Not much" was even an understatement. Between their daily lives, Craig's shyness and Lukas overthinking, they had sex twice a year, tops. Even though Craig didn't mind all that much, he suspected that Lukas would be a bit happier if there was more action in their sex lives. So, he suggested the "Change" app, which advertised a big increase in intimate activity in the first few days of using it even.

"Yes, that's what they say. It wasn't that expensive, so let's just try it, okay? It's not that difficult, either. We start the app, and it tells us what to do. The only thing we have to do is do what it says for a few days."

Lukas nodded. His first impulse was to ask how that magical app would even decide without knowing anything about them, but he swallowed his remark. There was no harm in trying for a few days. And perhaps it encouraged Craig to be a bit more active. Lukas was the bottom in their relationship, but Craig was not too keen on getting intimate.

"Okay. Let's do it then." He said, hitting the green "Start" button on his screen, with Craig doing the same.

A few seconds later, Lukas frowned. Mine says: "Work out at the gym. I don't even have a gym membership and I would have to search for my workout clothes. Do you really want to do this?"

"Aw, come on, just try it!" Craig said. "I'm sure they have a day pass. Mine says 'Buy new underwear', which is actually a good idea. Mine is getting a bit thin here and there."

"Okay, okay", Lukas sighed and kissed his husband on the cheek. "See you in a few hours then, I guess."

At the gym, Lukas quickly got changed and went for the treadmill, quickly breaking a sweat. He wouldn't be able to sustain this for long and he really hated it. Just as he was about to take a break, his phone dinged, another message from the app: "Enjoy your workout!"

Yes, the app was probably right, even though he was sure it didn't mean it that way. It made no sense to have a bad mood and he would be stuck here for at least half an hour before he could call it a quit. As he continued to run, his mood got a lot better. He was actually starting to enjoy it!

Ding! Another message, this time from his husband. It was a picture of a bright blue pair of tight underwear. Lukas took a few seconds to answer:

"Not your usual color."

Almost instantly, Craig replied: "I know, but that's what the app suggested. Gtg, more shopping to do."

As Lukas wanted to get back to the treadmill, he looked down on himself surprised. He actually looked rather fit, lean and with subtle hints of definition. That was strange! He had not heard of anyone having that quick successes at the gym. Something was off here!

Ding! Another message from the app: "Stop worrying, start lifting!"

...Yes, why not, decided Lukas. He always wanted to try the weighs and now that he was here, he might as well. Any kind of worry was blown away as he made his way to the weight room.

He had started handling the dumbbells for a few minute, when there was another message from Craig.

"Oh God, I was so ashamed. The app had me going into a sex shop! What if someone saw me?" Was the message, which made Lukas grin. Craig could be so cute and embarrassed.

"What did you buy? I'm sure nobody saw you." He typed, a drop of sweat dripping to his display.

It took a moment for an answer to arrive, time enough for another curl. Finally, a picture arrived that made Lukas almost snort. On the picture was a butt plug in bright red, followed directly by a message:

"Why would I care if anyone saw me ;)"

Lukas didn't worry about the unusual message but replied: "Aww, is that for me?"

"Maybe... The app wasn't clear on that. Anyway, more stuff to do. Keep working out, big guy!"

Big guy? Lukas was hardly what people would call a big guy. Sure, he had his bulging muscles all over his body, and he was a bit bigger due to them than most people, but he was no body builder or something like that.

Ding! "The bench is the perfect place to get bigger. Start pressing and don't think too much!"

That made sense. Lukas made his way to the bench press and started working it with renewed vigor. He quickly got into a good rhythm and could focus entirely on the sensation in his body. No distracting thought or any worries came to mind, he was completely concentrated on his workout. He really couldn't tell how long he was doing it, when he checked his phone. Two new messages, one from the app and one from Craig.

He checked the app first: "You're a really big guy *everywhere*, that's something to be proud of! Who needs a brain when you have brawn, right?"

Lukas chuckled dumbly. Yeah, that was right. He was a really big guy, after all. All muscles, everywhere, and he loved to show them off. Why was he even wearing a shirt? Lukas quickly got rid of it and admired his massive body. It was definitely way bigger than what was practical, he knew he had to fold into most cars and didn't even fit into the smaller ones. He could hardly reach around his torso because of his bulging muscles. Good thing he could still reach his groin. He readjusted himself through his gym shorts. He was positively massive down there as well. Thinking about his muscles always made him chub up a bit, but he didn't care.

Lukas thought really hard for a moment. There was something important he had forgotten. Riiight! The phone. Lukas always had trouble with the small screen and the fragile device, as multiple cracks in the display proved, so he carefully opened the messenger with his tongue between his teeth.

It was a picture of Craig, who had a new haircut. It made his whole face look different, slimmer somehow. As he was looking at the picture, another message came in:

"Enough workout! You are coming home now, I need to replace that plug by something bigger 8===D 🍆🍆🍆"

Almost immediately, another message came in, from the app this time. "Don't you just love to be told what to do, big guy? Good thing you got someone to decide for you!"

Lukas couldn't help it. The demanding tone in the message he got from Sir made him get hard already and a bit of precum leaked into his shorts. He sent a voice message (he really couldn't type on that thing and his messages were always full of mistakes): "Sure thing, boss! Heading to the shower!"

As he made his way to the locker, another message from craig got in: "Skip the shower, Bull! You're coming home right now and you're gonna breed me with that fuckstick of yours, do you understand?" Another picture followed, of Sir sitting on a chair, already kneading his own, of course much smaller cock.

Bull grinned and nodded. It took him a while to understand that Sir couldn't see that, so he nodded again and started to jog home. He couldn't wait to stick his massive cock into Sir's juicy ass. Sir was insatiable and it was his job to provide for that. God, he loved being his Bull.

#male transformation #muscle transformation #dumbing down #sweat #bodybuilder #power bottom

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defectedsources · 2 months

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✎ ( 911 PILOT EPISODE STARTERS. )

a roleplay meme of quotes from the pilot episode of the first responder drama 911. WILL CONTAIN POTENTIALLY TRIGGERING QUOTES. do not steal or repost. FOR REBLOGGING ONLY.

❛ don’t worry. he’s gonna be alright. ❜ ❛ you said if i got to you in five minutes, you would be all mine. ❜ ❛ someone punch you in the face? ❜ ❛ let’s not ruin everything by actually getting to know each other. ❜ ❛ we’re living in a golden age. ❜ ❛ this woman is so far outta my league , but she’s just once-in-a-lifetime. ❜ ❛ when was the last time you ran into , or jumped into anything? ❜ ❛ i’m telling you , the uniform is a major aphrodisiac. ❜ ❛ wash your hands! we don’t know where they’ve been. ❜ ❛ this is not a family. it’s not a clubhouse. ❜ ❛ see the fire. put out the fire. the rest is blah blah. ❜ ❛ the system , and the rules are not arbitrary. ❜ ❛ you know you’re not helping him by going easy on him. ❜ ❛ he just needs a little direction. ❜ ❛ i’ll remind you that after he gets you killed. ❜ ❛ i’ll race you! ❜ ❛ race yourself rambo. ❜ ❛ who’s rambo? ❜ ❛ okay first of all , that’s awful. ❜ ❛ stand back. i got this! ❜ ❛ try to find some common sense while you’re down there. ❜ ❛ don’t we need a warrant or something? ❜ ❛ do i look like i’m asking you to make an arrest? ❜ ❛ let’s do this. ❜ ❛ it’s not working! ❜ ❛ nobody held the elevator? ❜ ❛ come on , i’m twice as fast! ❜ ❛ you’re gonna be okay. you’re gonna be great. ❜ ❛ hospital eta five minutes! ❜ ❛ there’s nothing more we can do. ❜ ❛ we did our jobs very well today. ❜ ❛ you do not get to choose who lives and who dies. ❜ ❛ you’re gonna get someone killed. ❜ ❛ i promise you , the next time you screw up. it’ll be your last. ❜ ❛ get in the truck. ❜ ❛ dude , as far as i’m concerned , the world began the day i was born. ❜ ❛ oh my god! I’m gonna start calling you snake-ipedia! ❜ ❛ why don’t i just punch it in the face? ❜ ❛ it’s not some guy at an el torito happy hour! ❜ ❛ we don’t have time for this! ❜ ❛ why is that always the first option for you white-boy , macho tough guys? ❜ ❛ guys i’m totally gonna take credit for this. it’s gonna get me laid for a week. thank you. ❜ ❛ i’m gonna skip the part where the two idiots flirt. ❜ ❛ um , did you follow me here? ❜ ❛ all that stuff weighs you down. it slows you down. ❜ ❛ if we lose a couple seconds , people die. ❜ ❛ don’t do this to me. ❜ ❛ for what it’s worth , everyone thinks it sucks. ❜ ❛ you got some skills. just not a lot of discipline. ❜ ❛ you’ve got to be kidding me. ❜ ❛ i need a favor. ❜ ❛ i’ll have something for you in less than five. ❜ ❛ all right. no heroics. don’t go chasin waterfalls. ❜ ❛ i don’t know what that means. ❜ ❛ you can’t go in there right now. ❜ ❛ i know what this looks like. ❜ ❛ you’re giving me another chance? ❜ ❛ you were right to fire me. ❜ ❛ so are we talking again? ❜ ❛ i think i’m not fired. ❜ ❛ your shifts not over yet. ❜

#roleplay memes #roleplay prompt #roleplay meme #rp meme #rp prompt #thread starters #ask memes #rp prompts #911 memes #911 rp memes #911 roleplay memes #first responder memes #911 rp prompts #911 roleplay prompts

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gachagon · 6 months

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Hiori's ego is really fragile glass

and it's really fucking cool, I adore the imagery they used for this reveal. In Blue Lock there's always this big moment where the characters come flying apart in strange fragments, either in puzzle pieces or weird black "monster goo" etc which is supposed to be representative of their ego. And we finally have Hiori's ego!

When I first saw it I thought that maybe it was just random shards not meant to really represent anything but this panel where he and Isagi are both thinking at the exact same time about the same play let me know that this is him showing his ego off proudly, and I think Hiori's ego is super cool in a unique way.

Often times, when we think about glass or mirrors, we think about how easy they are to break. How fragile they are, and when mirrors are broken you can't exactly see the reflection in them clearly anymore. That is exactly why Hiori gets paired with glass shards as his ego, because seeing everything all at once was the thing that was holding him back. From Hiori's perspective, whenever he would play, he wouldn't do it for himself but for the dreams of other people. His parents expectations weighed heavy on him, and were the sole reason for him joining Blue Lock.

When he's finally breaking free from the idea of playing for others, the moments on the glass shards are from his childhood, times where he had played soccer just for the benefit of his parents and nobody else. So in a sense, Hiori is breaking apart but in the best way possible because now he's playing for himself and making choices he wouldn't have thought about making before. He's not seeing the "big picture" that his parents had forced on him, which is why he relies more on his instincts instead.

I really feel like this is an interesting subversion of the predator eye skill that has been touted in other chapters, because those characters all had this big revelation the moment they could use it. They all spaced out, and were awed at just how much thinking and brain power they had to do in order to fully use it on the field. But Hiori isn't thinking, he's just playing by ear for the first time in his life, and that's how he's able to use this new skill to his advantage.

Breaking apart was the key Hiori needed in order to unlock his ego, because the thing that was holding him back was this constant anxiety and fear about doing things on his own. Being allowed to fail in life is such an important thing that people need to experience, and since he was never allowed to be anything less than perfect at soccer, he built this whole solid wall around himself when he played and would only rely on others to try and get ahead instead of truly playing selfishly.

He may have thought he was an egoist simply because he joined Blue Lock, but it's clear Hiori didn't think he'd ever have the possibility of being like the others, of truly being number 1 (because being the number 1 striker isn't even a dream of his, it's someone else's entirely).

And what's also really neat about Hiori's ego being represented by glass is how it contrasts Isagi's puzzle pieces. One is a chronic over thinker who's always seeing everything all the time in his head, and the other just turns his brain off to do the sickest shit on the field with pure reflexes. Now it makes so much more sense as well why Hiori's backstory chapter included him playing so many video games, specifically shooters. Because those are games you play where you mostly have to rely on your instincts and reflexes. You don't have to see everything in front of you, you don't even have time to do that in those types of games.

So it's cool to see how this little hobby of his was foreshadowing the way he'd use his skills in the upcoming match. The only thing left to wonder is if this will really be enough for them to win. If they don't score here Noa will be really upset by it since he let Isagi take a gamble with adding Hiori to the field. Part of me is optimistic, but I'm also convinced they'll lose because they've already won most of their games so far lol.

#bllk #blue lock #hiori yo #isagi yoichi #blue lock manga #bllk spoilers

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melanieph321 · 11 months

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Idea: Ruben and a really really shy reader. He wants to tell her that he is into her but because nobody has ever shown interest in her she doesnt beliebe him at first :)

Here you go babes! 🥰

Ruben Dias x Reader - Elevator Crush

Enjoy!

"Was he an intern like you?" You thought.

You knew that his name was Ruben somthing. You had a friend do a little snooping for you the day you first discovered your elevator crush. Every morning the two of you would share the intimate space with a bunch of other people on their way to work. You would look to Ruben between the arms and heads of strangers in the elevator. If only he knew that you existed, you thought. If only he knew that you had a huge crush on him.

"Hey."

It had been raining that morning. And there was a big traffic jam because of the flooding of the roads. Not alot of people had made it to work that day and so the elevator was empty when you got on it. That is, until Ruben step on to it as well.

"You talking to me?" You frowned, although there was only the two of you standing in the elevator.

"Well I wasn't talking to myself." He chuckled.

He wore his regular blue suit and carried a briefcase. His hair was wet like yours, perhaps he had just come from outside, in the rain.

"Oh. Hey." You said and gave a slight wave with your hand.

Usually people stood facing the door whenever they rode the elevator. To your surprise, Ruben leaned his side against the wall in a way that allowed him to look at you and you at him.

"I'm Ruben." He said.

"I know." You muttered.

Ruben wasn't just some silly crush you met in a elevator, turns out he was also the CEO of the sports management company that ha their offices above yours. Again, your friend had done some snooping. It would be the last time you'd ask her to. Turns out Ruben was so out of your leauge.

"Do you have a name?"

"Huh?" You looked up from your feet to see Rubens eyes still on you, indicating that this wasn't just a plain "Hello, goodbye" situation. He was really trying to have a conversation with you.

"Your name, do you know it?" He smiled.

"Oh, you wanna know my name?" You blushed. "It's Y/N."

"Y/N." He nodded approvingly. "I like it. It's beautiful."

"Thanks." You muttured, struggling with eye contact.

"I've always wondered what it was."

"My name?" You frowned.

He nodded.

But that must mean...You couldn't believe it, had he been checking you out too? All this time?

"I'm just an inter." You said, a slight need to astablish the fact that there was clear barrier between your job titles. He was a CEO, compared to you he was worth somthing to the people working within these walls.

"I was an intern too once." He said, almost dreamingly.

"You were?" You were in awe of how humble his personality was. He just seemed so friendly and so sure of himself.

"It's a good way to start." He said.

You nodded. "I guess we all have to start somewhere."

"I agree, how about dinner?"

"Come again?" You almost choked on your own spit. Ruben however did not budge.

"I'd like to start somthing with you, how about we start with dinner. Tonight? After work?"

B...but I'm drenched." You said, running a hand through your wet hair.

"So am I. We might have time to change if you come to my place and clean up."

"Your place?" You said, eyes widening in surprise. It was like a scene taken straight from one of your crazy imaginations, your Inappropriate imaginations. "Ruben I hardly know you and I..."

"That's what dinner is for. " He interrupted. "To get to know each other."

"You want to get to know me? Why?" You were really unsure if you were hallucinating or not.

Ruben pushed away from the elevator walls, closing the already small gap between you. The height difference was insane.

"Y/N." He said, voice dark and horase.

"Yes?" You bit your lip and felt the need to match his height by weighing on your tippy toes. You had never stood so upclose to each other before. Rubens eyes searched your face and yours his.

"This is me asking you out. Just say yes." He whispered.

"Yes." You said, not exactly sure what you were agreeing to. But hey, like Ruben said, maybe it was the start of something and everyone has to start somewhere. You just never thought It would be in a stuffed elevator.

#fanfiction #manchester city #man city #ruben dias #football x reader #football imagine #ruben dias imagine #football angst #footballer x reader

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shamelessler · 23 days

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Being human was definitely overwhelming. In some instances Bill's increased senses were satisfying and intruiging, such as slamming a hammer onto the back of his hand or swan diving from the balcony.

Granted those both ended in Mabel fussing over him for days. Then there was the other side of feelings that were absolutely agonizing (as if breaking all your bones isn't agonizing).

There was of course the pain of being unable to quiet down an irritatingly loud room, feeling trapped in a small space, gross textures, crying. Crying was his least favorite part of being human.

He sat up in the spare room of the Mystery Shack currently bawling his eyes out. Strangely enough, crying always made him feel better once the tears had finally come to a stop, but the guilt always followed him soon after.

He remembered laughing coldly in the face of his victims tears, and he felt an odd sense of hypocricy that clawed at his insides. It felt an awful lot like remorse.

"Bill, it's time for your check up." Came the weathered voice of his former rival, Ford. Bill quickly attempted to wipe his tears away and forced a smile onto his face. "Hey Sixer. Is it time already to invade my personal space once again?"

"You lost your right to personal space when you decided to be the ring leader of the apocolypse." Ford deadpanned. Fair enough.

Bill sighed before swinging his legs off of where he was perched to follow the taller man downstairs into his lab.

Out of all the people who disliked having Bill as a guest, Ford probably hated it the most. Dipper always seemed to be on constant alert as well but he was more scared of Bill than Ford was.

It had irritated Bill to no end by the fact that Ford treated him like a beaten old dog, harmless without his powers. It irritated him even more to know that Ford was correct.

"Checking me for any powers is pointless, I hope you know that," Bill reminded, "if I had my powers I'd be out of here faster than you could say Axolotl."

As expected, Ford completely ignored Bill's sass and pretended like he hadn't said anything. "You've been crying." Ford stated matter of factly. This caught Bill so off gaurd that he choked out, "How did you know?"

He swore he could've seen a smug smile from Ford which made his blood start to boil. With what, he wasn't quite sure... "Your eyes are red and puffy. I used that much to deduce that you were crying, isn't that right?"

"I wasn't crying. I've never cried, I'm not like you meat bags." Bill said confidently. Ford rolled his eyes as he lifted Bill up and plopped him on the examination table like he weighed nothing--which, he probably did. Human food didn't agree with him-- before his face softened.

The look was uncomfortably familiar to Bill, it was a look of pity. He'd gotten it countless times in the past two weeks by Mabel but seeing it from Ford of all people was unnerving.

"You do realize that you are one of us now, right? And that means you are vulnerable to the same softness us humans possess. There's no use trying to hide it." Ford said sternly.

Bill squirmed uncomfortably on the table as Ford pressed a cold stethoscope to his bare chest. "I'd rather that nobody pictures me snivelling like an idiot."

Ford snorted, retreating the stethoscope from Bill and scribbling data onto his clipboard. "Too late."

Bill snarled at Ford, his fists tightening weakly. He tried his best to ignore Ford's snide remarks, he truly had, but he was just so infuriating! Despite knowing his weak strength, he kicked Ford square in the chest.

He was breifly satisfied by the sound of Ford grunting in pain and clutching his chest, before fear took over when he saw Ford lunge at him and sucessfully pin his arms.

Pain wasn't exactly Bill's concern at the moment, he was simply terrifyed of being humilated by the fact that he could not stop Ford even if he wanted to. "I wouldn't do that if I were you! I'll tell Shooting Star and you'll never hear the end of it." Bill threatened.

To his surprise, Ford smiled. "I'm not going to hurt you, Bill. I'm actually going to use something that Mabel would strongly approve of."

...What the hell did he mean by tha-

"W-Wait, no.. SIXER!" Bill burst out laughing after Ford placed one wiggling finger to his exposed armpit. "I thought that tickling would be much more effective." Ford teased. To Bill's horror, his face began to redden.

"You DI-" Bill was cut off by his own shrieking when all twelve of Ford's fingers came brushing past his sides. "Language, Bill. There are children here." Ford said seriously, but only Bill could detect the hint of amusement in his eye.

God, this was one of the most humiliating things he'd ever been through. More humiliating than being beaten by 12 year olds, even...

The worst part was he knew that with his depleted strength there was no hope at fighting back, and Ford gave him the wiggle room to try.

"Honestly I didn't know that this would work out so well," Ford commented in surprise, "Mabel told me she used tickling against you one time, but I didn't think she was actually serious."

Bill growled at Ford through his laughter. "T-This is cruhuel and unusual punishment, Sixer!" Ford smirked at those words and then traced lightly along Bill's waist, delighting by the snorting it produced.

"I think it's only fair. Now you're really getting the human experience." Ford chuckled. "Are you ready for the finale?" Bill's brow furrowed in confusion as the tickling came to a stop.

"Finale? What are you talking about?" Ford smoothed over the skin on Bill's tummy before taking in a cheeky breath. "A raspberry."

"The fruit? I don't see how that's- FUCKFUCKFUCK!!!" Bill dissolved into shrieking laughter as Ford brought his face down into the softness of Bill's stomach and nuzzled against it as he gave him one of the most diabolical forms of tickling Bill had ever come across.

Ford snickered inbetween raspberries, causing Bill to shake with laughter. "PLEHEHASE FORD!" Bill cried out as he squirming turned into melting and his maniacal laughter shifted to amused hysterics. Ford was caught off gaurd by the use of his real name and finally pulled away to which Bill audibly praised the Lord.

"Jesus, Bill. I tickled you so hard you turned religious?" Ford laughed, although this time there was only warmth lacing it. Bill felt himself involuntarily smiling brightly at the sound of it. "Shut up, Sixer. You know you're the same."

----------------------

A/N: sorry if this sucks fml.

#lee!bill cipher #ler!ford #gravity falls tickle #sfw tickles #weewooweewoo #request

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fablesrose · 2 months

Text

Ch 12 - The Lost Heir Job

Series Rewrite Masterlist

Pairing: Eliot Spencer x Ford!Reader

Description: The con this week takes a couple turns as they try to steal a rich man's inheritance from his lawyer and give it to the charity he requested before he passed away. The client's lawyer is an interesting character as well.

Words: 4989

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nate didn’t tell anyone, but I knew that he went to see Sophie, despite his insistence of leaving her alone on the last job. I wasn’t sure if she would show up, so I left Nate to meet the client on his own, just in case she did. What I didn’t expect was that our client would bring an attorney and that she would want to know what was going on all of the time or else we didn’t have a client at all.

“I hate this,” Eliot said when Nate explained the situation.

“You do not let Vicki Vale into the Batcave, ever,” Hardison said. I would have to refresh my memory on that reference, but I got the jist that he didn’t like the situation either.

“First, this is my home, not a cave,” Nate replied. “Second, we’re not gonna allow her up here.”

“Sophie would never approve,” Parker said forcefully. “Call her.”

“We can’t just keep calling Sophie.”

“Okay, I see how it is,” Hardison said. “We can’t call her, but you can go off and have a little secret meeting with her.”

I should have known Hardison would already know about it.

“What are you talking about? I was in Harrisburg, researching a client,” Nate defended.

“Wow, cause you know what?” Hardison put some evidence on the screen behind Nate, “your passport got dinged going through Heathrow Airport yesterday. Heathrow’s in London. I guess you couldn’t get a direct flight to Harrisburg.”

“Well it’s hard when you do the same day booking,” Eliot pointed out.

Hardison stuttered a bit in response to Eliot before getting back to his point, “Did you realize that London is the home of the most security cameras in the world?”

“Really?” Parker said, feigning interest.

“Who feels like playing Where’s Waldo?” Hardison asked. “I do.”

Parker raised her hand with an ‘Oh!’

“Do you think he wore his trenchcoat to be inconspicuous?” I asked.

“Damn girl, it’s like you already knew,” Hardison praised as he showed a picture after picture of Nate, in his trenchcoat. “Waldo Ford. Oh, is that Big Ben? And you?”

We all smiled at each other as Hardison continued to milk it.

“Wow, you got twins and triplets everywhere.” Hardison became more serious, “and lookie there, 11:18 am standing outside of Sophie’s apartment looking quite pensive.”

“Aw, he’s rehearsing what he’s gonna say,” Parker said. “I’ve seen him do that.”

“Alright, alright guys. Okay, you caught me,” Nate conceded. “I went to London. Yeah. I saw Sophie.” He paused, looking at each of us individually. “And she’s not coming back.”

My heart sank. I had already assumed this to be the case since she wasn’t here, but him saying it outloud really hit it home. She wasn’t coming back.

Parker shook her head, “Not now, or not ever?”

“I, uh, don’t know,” Nate said. “An, uh, I don’t think she does either. So, uh, that’s that.”

There was a moment of silence as we all contemplated what that might mean.

“Could you please take the…” Nate gestured at the screens behind him with the surveillance photos of him. “Thank you,” he said once they were gone, “Can we get back to work?” Nate stood, moving the stool he was sitting on out of the way. He took a business card out of his pocket, “This… Tara Carlisle. Hardison, maybe you could just do a background check on her and if everything pans out, I don’t see why we can’t have an outsider just this once tag along. Hm?”

I couldn’t help but make a comparison, “I mean, I don’t think it’d be much different than having me around. Especially in the beginning…”

Nobody answered or added to my thought, but I did notice some clenched jaws and subtle head movements, as if weighing the odds.

“Ok, why don’t you run it for ‘em,” Nate told Hardison.

Hardison started his slide show, “Meet the late, great Bennett Kimball. He made his fortune the old-fashioned way: polluting, union busting, employing sweatshop labor. His personal life was even worse. Drunken driving accidents, chasing women, paying off the mob.

“Why haven’t we ever heard of this guy?” Parker asked.

“Because to the rest of the world,” Nate answered, “Bennett Kimball was a pillar of Boston society. Thanks to one very hard working lawyer.”

“Meet his longtime attorney, Peter Blanchard,” Hardison said, showing his picture on the screen. “This is an interesting guy. He’s a blue blood Harvard Law Graduate who turned into Kimball’s personal janitor. Dude would pay off the cops, pay hush money, God knows what else.”

“And he was rewarded by being named the executor and sole beneficiary of Kimball’s estate,” Nate added.

“Lovely,” I commented sarcastically, “So he’s invested, to say the least.”

“Mmhm,” Hardison agreed. “See, Kimball didn’t have any kids. He had a couple of ex-wives way, way back, but Blanchard is the closest thing he has to family.”

“Well, I guess this Blanchard guy didn’t count on his client having such a giving side,” Eliot said.

“Funny how that works,” Nate replied, standing up. “What happens to rich people when they know the end is near… It’s really, really amazing. Okay, I don’t know that we have a legal angle to play on this one, because in three days, he is going to present the will in probate court and assume control of the estate.”

“And our client’s charity gets nothing,” Parker said.

“Now, Blanchard was the keeper of Kimball’s secrets so…” Nate continued, “Yeah, so that’s our way in, right there.”

“You want a skeleton from his closet,” Parker deduced, a bit excited.

“Absolutely,” Nate agreed, “and there’s gotta be tons of skeletons. I mean, we want something so scary that the mere mention of it makes this guy run for his checkbook. So, uh, if that weren’t hard enough, we’ve got the chaperone to think about.” Nate clapped his hands a bit awkwardly at the task we had a head, and then took his exit.

“Tara Carlisle,” Hardison said to us. He, Nate, Eliot, and I stood outside of a prison, waiting for the attorney to arrive. “She checks out. Civil rights lawyer, does a lot of pro bono work. Collects lost causes like kittens.”

She pulled up in a low profile sudan, practical.

“Well, she’s honest,” Eliot commented.

“Crusader, incorruptible,” Hardison said as she stepped out of her car. She wore heels and a pencil skirt, professional, but still flattering along with her blond half updo and glasses. Hardison seemed to notice as he added, “And one sexy librarian.”

I looked over at him and Eliot with a raised eyebrow, but they kept their gaze on her. I rolled my eyes as I returned my gaze to the newcomer.

Nate waved and walked to stand beside her, “Hey guys, I’d like you to meet Tara Carlisle. She’s our client’s attorney. She’s gonna be joining us today.”

“I’m here because I believe we share a common goal,” she said as she shook our hands. “I just want to make sure it’s done the right way.” She turned to Nate, “Now, you said you had something we could use against Blanchard?”

Nate nodded, signaling for Hardison to explain.

“Okay, well behind these prison walls, or, um, prison shrubs,” Hardison started, pointing at the low security prison, “is Kimball’s former business partner, PJ Orson. He’s doing ten years for embezzlement. Kimball’s company paid $50,000 to a company called Lamond Holdings back in 1980.” Hardison was about to continue when he zeroed into Tara dutifully taking notes in a little note pad.

“That?” Nate asked. “Yeah, she does that. It’s okay, go ahead.”

Hardison continued, “Well, Lamond Holdings is a Vegas front company for the mob.”

“Yeah, $50,000 used to be the going rate for a contract killer in those days,” Eliot clarified helpfully.

“I’m not gonna ask how you know that,” I said before I could stop myself, since I had an idea.

“Good, cuz you don’t want to know.”

“Fair enough.”

“You think Kimball paid to have somebody killed?” Tara asked.

I didn’t have to look at Eliot or Hardison to know that we all made a little bit of a face at the question.

“Okay,” Nate took the attention to himself, “now what we’re gonna do right now is we’re going to go undercover.”

“Well, why don’t we go talk to Mr. Orson?” Tara asked.

Hardison and Eliot laughed.

“No. The best lie is the truth Mr. Ford,” she said resolutely. “I think if we go in there, and plead our case, Mr. Orson will wanna talk to us.”

She had so much confidence walking into that prison with Nate and I behind her, even up to explaining the situation to Orson. Until he laughed in her face.

Nate and I glanced at each other with a knowing look. Eliot and Hardison were getting ready for undercover anyway. It looked like we would need them after all, crazy.

Orson explained to Tara how he was living a very comfortable life in the prison. He didn’t need his sentence reduced, he didn’t need any deals.

Once Orson left, Nate told Hardison and Eliot to put the squeeze on him and for Parker to case Blanchard’s office. Nate then turned to us, “Why don’t you two come with me. I’m about to become a really terrible lawyer. You can watch.” He then turned to exit the prison.

I waited for Tara to gather her things, walking alongside her, “Don’t worry, it’ll be fun.”

She gave me a skeptical look.

I reached my hand out to shake again, “I’m Y/n, Y/n Ford.”

She shook it cautiously this time, “Daughter?”

I shook my head, “Niece, but he raised me after my parents passed.” She let out a quiet, ‘ah,’ but before she could provide condolences as I could see she was about to, I spoke again. “So, I have to deal with his bullshit all the time, trust me, you’ll enjoy yourself at least a little bit.”

The three of us headed over to the courthouse after Nate changed into an… interesting suit to say the least. It was a three piece suit, everything was powder blue except for his tie, which was orange. It was clear–he was there to make a statement.

“Look, Blanchard’s here at the same time as you are. That’s a coincidence,” Tara said excitedly as she spotted Blanchard in the hallway.

“No, it’s not,” Nate said, “we hacked into his online appointment schedule.” He quickly corrected himself, “I mean, yes, what a coincidence.” He waved a hand at us, “why don’t you wait for me outside?”

“What are you going to do?” Tara asked.

Nate stumbled over his words trying to say what he was doing somewhat discreetly, “uh, make an appointment with… You’ll see.” Nate then walked ahead of us, past Blanchard, to a judge’s door.

I stepped slightly in front of Tara, facing her as if to have a conversation, “You can watch over my shoulder, make it a bit less suspicious.”

She nodded, tilting her head curiously as she did as I told her. I in turn listened as Nate knocked on the door.

“Hi there. Listen, Jimmy Popodokolos, Las Vegas, attorney at law. I’m here to talk to the judge about the Kimball probate hearing.” He then obnoxiously kept throwing in filler words and “very important”s as the secretary tried to put him down for an appointment.

“Oh, can you see Blanchard? He must be peeved,” I asked Tara.

She hesitated, “Well, he’s facing away from me…”

“Come on, you’re a lawyer, don’t you know body language?” I didn’t wait for her answer before stretching a bit, peeking towards Blanchard in the process. “Yeah, he looks tense, this’ll be good.”

Once Nate was done talking to the judge he came walking back towards us. Tara and I quickly fell into step with him as we exited the court house.

“I think we should go back to the prison, something tells me Orson is gonna talk to us,” Nate said, stepping into the car.

I laughed to myself a bit, knowing that Eliot and Hardison must have been successful in scaring the crap out of him. They were posing as guards within the prison and were stirring up trouble for Orson. The very real threat of getting him transferred to maximum security prison was looming over his head.

Tara was confused, but Nate refused to elaborate.

“Who are you guys? Feds, playing hardball?” Orson asked once Tara picked up the phone again.

“I’m sorry, what are you…?” she said.

“Listen, the payment to Lamond Holdings was made to someone named George Gilbert.”

“Who is George Gilbert?”

“I don’t know. Blanchard said to keep it to ourselves because the mob was involved. That’s all I know, I swear. I don’t want to die in a prison riot. Please, call off your dogs.” The guard then came and told him that time was up, so he left the visiting area.

“Alright, so Blanchard paid the mob $50,000 to kill someone named George Gilbert for Kimball,” Nate said. “Well, this should be an interesting meeting.” Nate then swiftly exited the room, Tara and I close behind. She was substantially more confused than before.

Nate went to meet with Blanchard with this new found information to try and blackmail him a bit and buy enough time for Parker to break into Blanchard’s safe in his office. I went back to my apartment and changed into some comfier clothes and made myself a snack. I should have been excited to have another “outsider” around, to be able to share what I’ve discovered with someone else. But for some reason, it made me a bit anxious hanging around her. Like something wasn’t right. I tried to shake it off, it wouldn’t be the first time anxiety built up for no reason. Having a minute to myself in my apartment helped, I was able to decompress away from people for a little while.

That was until Eliot knocked. When I opened my door, I didn’t fail to catch the quick look over he did and the slight tilt of his head. I took a second myself to admire how the long sleeves of his white undershirt were pushed up to his elbows before locking my eyes with his.

“We need you over here again. There’s been a change of plans,” he stepped away from the door, letting me step out after him.

I rolled my eyes as I pulled the door shut behind me, “when isn’t there.”

“Touche.”

Eliot gave me a quick run down as we crossed the hall and entered Nate’s apartment. It wasn’t a mob hit that Blanchard paid for. It was a stripper, a pay off to make her disappear. Nate then claimed that Parker was Kimball’s child from that stripper.

Parker was complaining when we sat down that she was one digit away from cracking the safe.

“Yeah, no. This is much, much better than the safe,” Nate assured.

“I got everything on Georgia Gilbert, and I mean everything,” Hardison said. He relayed her birthdate, education, medical tidbits, including that she was colorblind, and even her shoe and dress size, heaven forbid. “And how in the world did you know that she was pregnant?”

“Wait, she was pregnant?” Parker asked.

“Yeah, gave the baby up for adoption.”

“What happened to Georgia?”

“She died in 1985. Cancer.”

My face scrunched up in sympathy. That must have been rough.

“Tough draw,” Eliot said.

“Well, it wasn’t really a guess,” Nate said, bringing us back to Hardison’s question. “I mean, for decades Kimball, he had a lot of women on the side, avoided a lot of scandal, right? So what made him decide to marry Georgia Gilbert over all those women?”

“Blanchard paid her off and Kimball thought she ran out on him,” Eliot said.

“Now, how did you know that baby was a girl?” Hardison asked.

“Oh, oh yeah… That- that was a guess,” Nate admitted.

Eliot and I chuckled a bit. The luck of this man…

“But, that’s a fifty-fifty deal.”

“Why don’t we find the real daughter?” I asked.

“Adoption records are sealed, paper only,” Hardison replied. “I have a reference number, but nobody can see inside. All this is good, until Blanchard wants a DNA test. I gotta say, even with my bag of tricks, I can’t rewrite Parker’s genetic code.”

“That’s quitter talk,” I said simply.

“You know what-”

“Yeah, so we just have to convince him that asking for DNA is the worst possible choice he can make,” Nate said, cutting Hardison from a retort.

“How do we do that?” Eliot asked.

“We don’t.”

Nate briefed Tara of the plan. She was to go to a meeting with Blanchard and do some reverse psychology to get him to not want a DNA test. With Hardison attaching one of Parker’s aliases to the adoption reference number, it made it look like Parker was the missing daughter. It sounded like it was pretty successful, but only time would ultimately tell.

It didn’t take long for Blanchard’s assistant to call, setting up a meeting with Nate and Parker. While it seemed like good news, I’ve been learning not to celebrate until we were truly home free.

I decided to go to the hearing both to show some moral support and just in case something went awry. I had an earbud in, listening to how the meeting was going to go on the riverfront. Eliot went along as well, just in case. It was a good thing, because not long after they arrived, I heard gunshots.

“Nate?!” I tried to whisper. Luckily the hearing hadn’t started yet, so others were chatting, but Tara heard and looked towards me with a worried expression. I waved her off, quickly and quietly exiting the courtroom. “Eliot, what’s going on?”

“Well, he was convinced alright,” Parker answered instead after the fighting noises stopped. “Good plan.”

“No, no, no, this is good,” Nate panted. “Because, I mean, you know, we get you to the hearing, he’ll cut us a check in the hallway just to keep you from getting in front of that judge. Just make sure that Parker gets to that hearing. No matter what.”

I started pacing the hallway. This wasn’t good, but hopefully salvageable.

“Hardison, give me some good news,” Nate asked after a little while.

“Oh, I’ve got some great news for ya,” he answered, somewhat sarcastically. “They just put an APB on Parker. It says she’s a late 20s Caucasian woman who shot an officer. She’s an addict and she’s armed. Trifecta.”

“Hardison, how good’s the description of her?” Eliot asked, but Hardison didn’t have to answer as I heard sirens coming through from his end.

“Pretty good,” Parker answered.

I listened to the background noises of them running and then eventually Nate took a call from Blanchard. Once he hung up he addressed us.

“Hardison, y/n, Blanchard’s headed to the courthouse. You’ve gotta delay him. Buy us some time.”

“How do you expect us to do that?” Hardison asked.

“I don’t know, use your imagination.”

“Just use my imagination…” Hardison said to himself before trailing off.

“Do you want me up there in the foyer, Hardison? Or should I stay back here, behind the security check?” I asked him. I was fumbling over what I could do to keep him from getting here.

“Uh,” He said, it sounded like he was rummaging through his pockets, “No, I think I have an idea to keep him here at the security check for a while. Stay back there to run last minute interference if necessary.”

I sighed shakily, “Okay… okay okay.”

He started talking with people in the lobby, asking for things to help, I assumed. I looked around, trying to think about what I could do to slow Blanchard down once he got here. What would Sophie do? Think of the classic tricks, the plausible movie tropes. My eyes flicked around the corridor, catching benches and people milling around. Then someone walked by with a coffee cup.

That might work.

I was impressed with how long Hardison held Blanchard up at the security check, but it wasn’t long enough, Nate was still running behind. To top it off, Parker couldn’t find a way into the courthouse since every entrance was covered by police. I didn’t manage to find any coffee, but I did find a cup and water, so it would have to do. I poured some on the ground a little ways from the courtroom, to have a little more space. I had the rest of the water in the cup, ready for some oscar worthy performances.

I watched as Blanchard turned the corner. I hyped myself up a bit, I had rough housed a little in college, played a pick up game every once in a while. I could do this. I timed it so I slipped on the water one step in front of him as I crossed the hall, not giving him time to avoid me. As I fell I took his legs out from under him and spilled the rest of my water for good measure. Unfortunately I fell a bit wrong and he fell on top of me, not quick enough to catch himself.

“Aw, shit,” I whispered to myself. That hurt. I vaguely heard Nate talking to everyone else, giving orders to tweak the plan again, but I wasn’t listening. A crowd had gathered around, helping Blanchard and I up.

He quickly apologized, but excused himself. He tried to run, but the water made the floor slippery, which significantly slowed his progress. I wanted to smile at the little victory, but I was soaking wet and my body was aching, so I just gently shook myself off before slowly following him.

I sat down next to Hardison in the back of the courtroom once I got there and he gave me tentative knuckles. I touched my fist to his with a sigh, “that went better in my head.”

“Well, you bought some time, so…” he shook his head a bit, “but maybe don’t hurt yourself next time.”

“Noted.”

Nate loudly entered the courtroom as Tara was questioning our client on the stand. After introducing himself, the judge demanded that Nate represent the missing heir immediately. Nate took a moment to gather his things and thoughts, which the judge allowed. I heard Tara scold him a bit for posing as a lawyer through his comms.

“Well, stick around. I’m about to practice medicine, too,” he retorted back softly.

I turned to Hardison, “oh, this’ll be good.” To which he nodded.

“Uh, Your Honor, I’d like to offer into evidence these documents showing a payment that Mr. Blanchard made to a Georgia Gilbert, a woman I contend bore Mr. Kimball’s child,” Nate said.

“Yes, Your Honor,” Blanchard interrupted, “Mr. Popodoklips-”

“It’s Popodokolos.”

“Pokadolokisp… Pop… Popa-”

“Popodokolos.”

“This man!” Blanchard said louder, “spun these fairy tales in my office. It’s a shakedown from a disbarred-”

“Suspended!”

“Ambulance chaser from Las Vegas!” He shouted. “And he says that he found Bennett Kimball’s daughter. So I only have one question for him,” he said much calmer. “Where is she?”

Everyone stared at each other for a moment before Nate replied, “I could produce her, Your Honor, if you just allow me to ask the witness one question. One question to the witness.”

The judge nodded, “Please.”

Nate then walked up to our client, “Miss Walton. What… color… is my tie?”

She hesitated, “I don’t know. I’m color blind.”

Nate went on to explain to the judge, and everyone else in the room, that both Bennett Kimball and Georgia Gilbert were color blind. It was extremely rare for a woman to be color blind, both parents would have to be color blind for her to have it.

“Wait…” Ruth said from the witness stand, “Are you saying that I’m Bennett Kimball’s daughter?”

“It’s no coincidence, is it, that you started a program helping foster kids get adopted?” Nate asked her. “No coincidence, is it Miss Walton?”

“No, I was adopted myself.”

“Yes, in 1982,” Nate said. “You were two years old. The state of Nevada.”

“Yes,” she said in disbelief.

“Now the last time you saw Bennett Kimball, he called you by a different name, didn’t he? What was it?” He asked, but she didn’t answer. “Gigi? Georgia Gilbert. Gigi.”

She nodded imperceptibly on the stand.

“That’s who he was looking at when he saw you that day. Your birth mother, the woman he loved and lost in 1980.” This whole time he was speaking just to Ruth it seemed, but he then addressed the judge, “Your Honor, Bennett Kimball didn’t call Miss Walton here out of the blue to donate money to her charity. He searched for her. He searched for his daughter.”

“I move to strike Mr. Popodokos’s evidence from the record based on the fact that I haven’t been able to get adequate time to review these outlandish claims and prepare a proper response,” Blanchard said almost desperately.

“Popodokolos,” Nate corrected again.

“Popodokolos!” He nearly screamed.

“I agree, Your Honor,” Tara said, standing elegantly. “And I would also like to add a motion to compel a DNA test to put to rest any doubt that my client is Mr. Kimball’s daughter. The truth will win out.”

“Motion granted,” the judge said. “When we get the results, I expect I will be awarding Miss Walton the Kimball estate. We’re adjourned.”

Blanchard wasn’t too happy with that outcome. He got even more upset once he was arrested as a result of the dirty files Parker handed over to the authorities from Blanchard’s office. He was screaming insults and suspicions that Nate wasn’t a lawyer as he was dragged out of the courtroom.

“So,” Nate said to Tara, “do you still think law is, you know, the only pathway to justice?”

“Now more than ever,” she replied. “I like to think that you learned something from me today.”

She then left the courtroom with a pep in her step. We all filed out after her, heading back to the pub.

We met up with Ruth, giving the bit of closure we could when Nate asked her where her lawyer, Tara, was.

“My lawyer? I never met her before this week,” she replied confused. “She told me she was with you.”

We all shared a look. We quickly said our goodbyes to Ruth, wishing good luck, before heading up to Nate’s apartment. Once we entered, it wasn’t hard to spot Tara sitting in the middle of the room. She was wearing more comfortable and revealing clothes compared to her lawyer outfit. She also wore darker makeup and had her hair down.

“Took you long enough,” she said, much more relaxed than before as well. She waved an envelope in her hand.

Eliot stepped in front of us, “Who are you?”

“Tara Cole,” she replied easily. “I’m a friend of Sophie’s.” She handed the envelope to Nate, “She said you were short handed, asked me to help. It’s in there.”

Eliot stood intimidatingly close to her, arms crossed. Parker looked her up and down evaluating.

“So you help out by lying to us,” Hardison accused.

“I wanted to see how good you really are,” she answered simply. “And show you how good I am. Consider it my audition.”

I stood back a bit, giving some space, “well, I’m never ignoring that gut feeling again.” I said, somewhat to myself, but I didn’t mind if anyone heard. Tara tilted her head and raised an eyebrow at me in response.

“I bet you’re not even a lawyer,” Parker said, a bit of disgust in her voice.

“Awe, Sophie was right. You are adorable.”

“Excuse me?”

Eliot, Hardison, and I stepped in a bit there, trying to defuse the situation that would surely lead to Parker starting a fight. It stayed at a bit of arguing before Nate caught our attention.

“She’s right. Sophie did send her.” Nate looked back at the letter, “And, uh, Sophie asked us to give Tara here a shot.” Nate handed the letter to Hardison to read to confirm. “Well played. Welcome aboard.”

“Thanks,” Tara said, shaking Nate’s hand. She then started for the door.

“Whoa whoa. Hold up,” Hardison said, stopping her. “What is this?” He held out another paper.

“Oh, that’s my invoice,” She said. “For my cut of the inheritance.” We all stared at her for a moment. “Hey, I’m not a candy striper. This is my job.”

We turned to Nate and he gave a single, slow nod.

“There, see? We’re getting paid already. It’s gonna be fun.” She then made her exit.

I sighed after a moment, “well, I say we sleep on it. Not worry about it tonight.” I stretched a bit, a groan leaving my lips when a bruise protested.

They all hummed in agreement, dispersing themselves and the tense energy around us, just a little bit.

Eliot stepped up beside me, “How’re you feeling? I heard you took a tumble, just tackled Blanchard to the ground.”

I chuckled a bit, “Something like that. I’m okay, nothing like what you do, but I’m definitely gonna be finding bruises.”

He shook his head, “yeah, but you’re not used to it like I am.”

“True.” We headed to the door, Eliot walking me across the hall.

“Take a warm bath, epsom salts help the aches,” he said once I opened up my apartment.

I looked up at him, his eyes were shifting around my face, as if looking me over. If I didn’t know him, I would have said he was nervous. “Thanks, I’ll do that.”

He nodded and then turned and started down the exit stairs supposedly going home as I shut my apartment door softly.

A/n: Reblogs and comments are welcome and encouraged! Thank you for reading!

Tags: @instantdinosaurtidalwave @kniselle @technikerin23 @kiwikitty13@plasticbottleholder

#eliot spencer x reader #eliot spencer #leverage #rewrite #slow burn #multichapter #nate ford #sophie devereaux #alec hardison #parker #ford!reader

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russilton · 6 months

Note

Why do you not like Ricciardo? I got into F1 this year and liked him when I was watching old races/videos but then the entire Alpha Tauri situation happened and the way everyone handled that social media wise gave me the ick and now him and his fans gets on my nerves.

It’s… complicated. Talking about it below the readmore, because nobody needs to be subjected to my opinion on this if they don’t want to be. I’ll reblog jokes and commentary, but besides max and Nico I don’t tend to do much “anti” stuff bc…. Who has the fuckin time.

I absolutely used to be a massive Daniel fan, I got into the sport at the start of 2020 (just the sport not the fandom, I didn’t really get online with it until early 22) and I get why people like him, but I also used to like lando (I wasn’t a ‘fan’ but when I was finding my feet he was a Brit, he got default support) and ended up disliking him for basically the same reasons.

It came down to a combo of jokes not really feeling very funny anymore, multiple incidents of pretty sexist behaviour without much of an effort to change or apologise, backhanded comments and feeling uncomfortable with the way they stayed apolitical on situations they shouldn’t have because it “harshes their vibe”, though Dan is worse about this than lando is.

I was sympathetic about him throughs the mclaren shit but went sour on Dan when he went on that Andrew tate adjacent podcast and laughed at the awful jokes the hosts made about Eastern European women, which is how I ended up finding out his stance on politics in 2020 was that he didn’t get involved because it ruins his vibes, and that just kinda sealed the deal.

That’s a nice privilege he gets to have, I don’t, and while yes most drivers stay neutral and I have been here long enough not to expect them to do otherwise, it’s a whole other thing to hear that choice flaunted that way. You can’t really see the whole “happy go lucky” persona the same when you know what they ignore to maintain it

Then he went back to Redbull quite happily to play positive PR for team racism, and there’s not really any coming back from that is there. He’s comfy where he’s at, I don’t have to support it

I have to be clear here though, these are MY reasons I don’t like Dan, and mine alone. You can hate a driver based on vibes alone, it doesn’t have to be linked to “bad” things. Sargent hasn’t really done anything of fault, but I still don’t like him. That’s sports.

You can also still like the guy if these things are something you have thought about, I just personally weighed them up and came out on dislike. Frankly I’d be a hypocrite if I said otherwise, Dan still isn’t so bad I don’t mess about with him in fanfic. There aren’t really many cases where you can be decidedly black or white about driver support, unless it’s max verstappen. Fuck max verstappen.

#asks #uniquethingyouth #mark’s driver meta #wank/ranks #warning this one ain’t positive #but it’s just an opinion #I frankly expect people to ignore it #anti ricciardo

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emi-the-ems · 8 months

Text

Dance between death

None of this is canon

Once upon a moonlit evening, the Guild's grand ballroom hosted by Fitzgerald was filled with dozens of people from all different factions attending. The air was thick with the fragrance of blooming roses, and the sound of classical music filled the ears of the attendees, who were chattering about.

So, all in all, a horrible room to be in for an anxiety stricken introvert who's few acquaintances have left him for his inevitable doom.

Edgar Allan poe stood amongst the crowd, surveying all those who've passed by, yet still unable to say anything.

He was left alone by the other guild members once again.

It had been months since the passing of his dear friend and fellow rival, Ranpo Edogawa. The loss still weighed heavily on Poe's heart, constantly yearning for even a glimpse of the enigmatic genius once more. Of course, like a rival would. Or... is it?

Does he really need to think of Ranpo like this anymore? With Ranpo's death, shouldn't that spark a change in his view of him, if he truly cared for the detective?

But when all is said and done, this view of Ranpo is one of the only things he's had to remember Ranpo by. He can't just let it go.

As the long night wore on, Poe, in his painstakingly trapped thoughts with no way out of the situation, found himself drawn to the rhythmic melodies of a waltz. Its haunting tune seemed to echo the ache within his soul. He followed the sound and discovered a grand dance floor, couples twirling and spinning in perfect harmony.

Then, he saw it.

Amidst the twirling figures, Poe's heart skipped a beat. There, standing in all his ethereal glory, was Ranpo Edogawa. The disbelief and joy intermingled in Poe's eyes as he stepped closer, unable to comprehend what he was witnessing.

"Ranpo?" Poe whispered, his voice trembling with a mixture of awe and longing.

It couldn't be, right?

Ranpo turned towards him, his eyes alight with mischief and a spark that could not be extinguished. The same spark that only Ranpo's eyes could give off. The same spark that Poe always enjoyed witnessing in Ranpo's presence. A sly smile crept across his face, and he extended his hand towards Poe.

"Would you care to dance?"

The two of them glided onto the dance floor, and yet Poe couldn't help but notice the perplexed stares from the other guests. They whispered to each other, their eyes wide with astonishment. It was as if Poe was moving across the floor alone, while Ranpo's invisible presence guided him with grace.

"Everyone's looking at us," The timid writer whispered, conscious of himself and his partner.

"What? Oh come on; you know that if it's anyone they're staring at, it would be me, of course! Not only am I a great detective, but I'm also a great dancer, dontcha think?"

Poe couldn't help but feel the corners of his mouth lift into a grin at that response, easing him back to dancing.

That response was so... Ranpo.

And it was perfect.

As Poe and Ranpo twirled and spun, Poe gradually forgot about all of the eys on him, their movements seamless and fluid. They ignored the murmurs and the bewildered gazes, focusing only on the dance that bound them together.

Poe marveled at how alive the Ranpo in front of him seemed to be. His breath, his hands, and his smile all felt so real that he all but forgot about the prying eyes, dancing in a trance with his delusion.

Though the music was classical, they danced in a fevor that was a far cry from a typical, classical one.

Their captive audience stared at Poe, the anxious novelist, seemingly dancing alone, yet his movements mirrored the steps of an invisible partner that nobody but he could see.

#Ranpo #bsd #bsd oneshot #bungou stray dogs #bsd art #ranpoe #poe #edgar allen poe bsd #bsd au #ranpoe fanfic #ranpoe fanart #dies #why does it feel like i always post at the most horrible times?#its 4am right now #anyways the next post #yeah idk #tbh maybe i should make an intro #anyways the art is mine #bsd fanart

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wren-kitchens · 2 years

Note

idk if this is a good basis for a fic but I headcanon that Grian loves to perch on Scar (and either he doesn't weigh too much or Scar is strong so he can handle it) and Scar just thinks "oh it's a Grian/avian thing" only to later find out Grian exclusively perches on him and nobody else and it makes him feel all mushy and soft (but also proud)

okay it’s not exactly the prompt but its based off it

(also I am very sorry at how long this took to do lmao-)

“so, let me get this straight. your plan is to lure everyone down to the deep dark and throw snowballs at them until the warden kills them for us.”

“yes!”

“..how have we lasted this long.”

the two of them are nestled in the end of their dirt cave. scar leant against a giant jellie in one corner, grian — who is absolutely determined not to like the cats — sat pointedly in the other.

they’re- ah. attempting to come up with a good plan for a trap, now they’re on red. unfortunately, neither of them can think of anything that wouldn’t be immediately found out. no one’s going to investigate suspicious piles of tnt after their death.

“why, my endless charm and charisma, of course.” scar grins. “no one can resist it.”

grian giggles, then presses his hand against his mouth.

“what?” scar asks, blushing slightly.

grian shakes his head. the smile still evident in his eyes. it should be illegal how sweet that is.

“what is it?” scar persists, wanting to know if he gets credit for making grian laugh.

“just how many people have you won over with your ‘endless charm and charisma’?” grian grins.

“well, it seems i’ve won you over.” scar smirks. it might be the light (or lack of), but he’s pretty sure he sees grian’s cheeks turn pink.

“i’m on your team, I don’t count.” grian says. that’s not a no. “how many people who want to kill us have you won over?”

scar pauses. “okay, well none yet.” he admits as grian laughs. “yet!” he repeats, indignant.

“okay, do you have a better plan than snowballs?” grian asks.

“.. reputation points?” scar suggests.

“scar, I love you, but there’s no way in hell i’m doing that again.” grian deadpans.

scar’s heart leaps. “aw, you don’t trust my plans?” he grins. “what do you suggest?”

“I suggest that we sell something that people actually want.” grian says. “like-“

“like rides on the giant jellies!” scar jumps to his feet, stumbles a little and picks up his cane from the ground. “that’s a good idea!”

“scar, it really-“ grian starts, but scar is already walking out the door, the jellie following him.

“oh, we can have two people on at once at a discount price!” scar continues. grian scrambles to his feet and chases after him. “people love a discount.”

“scar-“ grian sounds exasperated.

“how much should we charge for each ride? I think two diamonds per person, but if two people are riding one then it should be- oh!” scar jumps. grian has flown up and landed on his shoulders, his wings fanned in front of scar’s face so he can’t see.

“scar, we’re not selling rides on your jellie cats.” grian tells him.

“well why not?” scar hopes grian can’t see how much he’s blushing. “people love cats!”

“they blew up your cats.” grian points out.

“people change.” scar says. “and i’m sure they’d love to ride on giant fluffy cats!”

“maybe in a different context.” grian says. “but right now I think they’re not gonna be too focused on giant cats.”

“well, don’t knock it ‘till you try it!” scar pushes grian’s wings out of the way and climbs onto the jellie’s back.

“scar, what are you- woah!” grian exclaims as scar picks him up and plops him on the back of the jellie, just behind him. “what are you doing?!”

“we’re going for a test drive!” scar announces. “c’mon, jellie!” he taps the side of the cat and it bounds off.

“scar!” grian yells, throwing his arms around scar’s waist.

“it’s okay.” scar says, butterflies erupting in his stomach. “we’ll be fine!”

“I- am- going- to- kill you.” grian says, sounding terrified.

“you fly, how is this worse?” scar asks. “she’s fluffy!”

“this is nothing like flying!” grian’s voice is starting to pitch up. the jellie jumps down a hill and grian lets out a squeak of fear and buries his face in scar’s back. “this is just prolonged falling!”

“jellie’s a natural at prolonged falling!” scar says. “we’re fine!”

“I am not!” grian says, voice slightly muffled. “get me off this thing!”

“woah there.” scar pats the jellie again, and it slows to a stop. grian, however, stays attached to scar, frozen.

“she’s stopped.” scar says gently. grian just squeezes him tighter. “songbird.” he murmurs, and grian relaxes slightly; enough for scar to turn around and hug grian back.

“no one is buying rides if this is how dangerous they are.” grian mumbles, nuzzling into scar’s shirt.

scar laughs softly. “i’m sorry.”

“i forgive you.” grian says. “you are unbelievably reckless, how are you still alive?”

scar grins. “if I said charisma-“

“don’t even.” grian looks up at him, smiling and that might be the best thing scar has seen all day.

“okay, so not jellie rides then.” scar says sheepishly.

grian bonks his forehead against scar’s chest. “not unless you’re planning to be sued by everyone.”

scar strokes his hair. “ah, what could they do? i’m the best salesman on this whole server.”

grian leans into the touch, making a quiet chirping noise. it’s absolutely adorable and it make scar’s stomach fill with butterflies.

“you’re very pretty.” scar blurts. he said it so quietly, he hopes grian hasn’t noticed.

“you’re very handsome.” grian says in response. scar’s face goes red.

“aren’t you kind.” scar smiles.

“mm. i’m right.” grian’s eyes are droopy. “you’re gorgeous.”

scar suddenly realises why grian is acting like this and quickly takes his hand away. grian makes a noise of complaint.

“it’s nice.” he protests.

“you’re doing the bird thing.” scar tells him. “last time you didn’t speak to me for a day ‘cause you were so embarrassed.”

scar nudges him, which seems to bring him back, if his face flushing is anything to go by.

“I- ah. really need to do a better job at stopping that happening.” grian says, avoiding scar’s eyes.

scar grins. “it’s kinda funny. you just go a little loopy for a bit, say nice things to me, then avoid me for ages.”

“I dont avoid you.” grian says. “last time I was just busy.”

“mhm, and are you too busy to look at me right now?” scar leans down, smirking. “you’re shy. it’s adorable.”

“i’m not shy, just embarrassed.” grian frowns, still not looking at scar.

“you look pretty shy right now.” scar says. it’s nice, for once, not to be the incredibly flustered one. “and, just so you know, you’re gorgeous too, songbird.”

grian buried his face in his hands. “I hate you.”

“sure didn’t sound like it.” scar grins. “but anyway, we need to get back to base. I assume you’re going to walk.”

“absolutely.”

for a couple days, they’re far too busy for scar to say anything. heck, he barely has time to think of the conversation he had with mumbo.

but then, they find themselves in their cave with time to spare. this time, grian has begrudgingly sat with scar and the jellie in the corner.

“so, do we have a plan?” scar asks. grian is leant against scar, eyes half closed.

“what, other than snowballs?” grian smiles sleepily. “well, right now we’re relaxing. these last few days have been hectic.”

“I can tell you need it. you’re sat with me and my jellie.” scar chuckles.

“you’re comfier than you look.” grian says. “you and the cat.”

“wow, can’t believe i’m just a pillow to you.” scar jokes.

“don’t pretend i’m not just a blanket.” grian says.

“no, you’re not a blanket, you’re a teddy bear.” scar says, putting an arm around him. “you’re always cuddling me.”

grian gives a huff of embarrassed laughter. “i’m not always cuddling you.”

“hmm, and what are you doing right now?” scar grins. “you’re disproving your point here.”

“I said ‘always’, not ‘ever’.” grian says.

“oh, now I see.” scar says. “so, by ‘not always’ do you mean ‘almost always’?”

grian’s face goes a little red. “yes.”

“thought so.” scar smiles.

“well, alright, I won’t if you don’t want me to.” grian starts to move but scar just pulls him closer.

“now when did I say that?” scar says, his voice low.

grian’s face is turned from him, but still very close. close enough for scar to get butterflies.

“you’re infuriating.” grian says.

“not so infuriating for you not to hug me, it seems.” scar says. “you’re a very touchy person.” he says thoughtfully.

“not really.” grian says.

scar laughs. “not really? what would you consider touchy then, if not this?”

grian’s ears go red. “well. I mean, i’m not touchy in general.”

“you’ve confused me.” scar says.

“it’s- it’s different. with you.” grian says haltingly. his head is bent, but the small amount of his face that scar can see is bright pink.

“different? what do you mean?” scar asks, chest starting to ache, hopeful.

“you- oh, you really don’t know?” grian looks up, and there’s something in his eyes. it’s fond, even affectionate. “do i have to say it out loud?”

scar can’t seem to use his vocal cords properly.

grian shakes his head, then twists around and kisses scar’s cheek.

“you’re.. i don’t feel like this about anyone else.” grian says. “i just. i’m bad at saying it, I didn’t-“

scar bends his head and kisses grian’s cheek in return, cutting whatever he was about to say off.

“I love you.” he says. his heart is expanding, filling up his chest with an aching warmth.

grian looks like he could burst. “I- I love you too.” he says, voice almost a whisper.

scar runs a hand through grian’s hair. “songbird.” he smiles.

grian gives a little huff, exasperated but fond. “you’re impossible.”

“you want me to stop?” scar suggests.

“you know I don’t.” grian says, leaning into the touch. he turns back around, so he’s facing away from scar.

scar kisses the top of his head. “I really love you.” he murmurs.

grian chirps quietly in response, melting into scar’s arms. he tilts his head upwards and kisses scars chin, smiling.

“you’re adorable.” scar tells him, blushing.

grian huffs. “shut up.”

#trafficshipping #hermitshipping #<- kind of #scarian #desert duo #scarian fanfic #double life #hoax writes

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