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#how the fuck do you make that into letters
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Imagine Tim holding Brucequest over the Justice League & even Dick & Jason's heads 💀💀💀💀
Heck Tim holding the Timestream incident over Bruce's head because Tim was the only person to actually do anything to save him
((Damian gets a pass because 1. He's a KID whose cult leading gramps was involved, how about No?))
((And 2. The priority for him at the time should have been unlearning the cult teachings of the LOA))
((and also all his other siblings. Alfred too since he has a job dammit))
Tw: Violence
I love petty Tim Drake so much. He deserves to be able to hold his trauma over the people who caused it.
Jason takes the last cookie? "You might as well take me back to Titan's Tower and slit my throat again."
Dick tells Tim he needs to go to bed? "Oh. I see how it is. I thought we talked about you questioning my judgements again, but I see I was wrong."
Alfred lectures Tim about his health? "Now you're concerned about my health? You should have thought about that before putting my mental health in peril for my sixteenth birthday."
Bruce is concerned with Tim's workload? "Maybe the next time you want me to take on less work you'll write a fucking letter instead of spreading vague clues no one else believes is actually from you."
As for Damian? They exchange verbal barbs for fun and take notes from each other. It confuses the hell out of the others because do they hate each other, or are they bonding?
Steph and Tim like to get into screaming fights with each other in public. It's never about their actual fights, but they like how Gotham reacts to it (bonus points if they end up in the news).
Tim and Babs try to sabotage each other's unimportant technology. That fifth tablet Babs hardly uses? Bam! Tim's made it so it plays music whenever it's on and the music can't be turned off.
Cass and Tim just make faces at each other. Bruce has been confused as hell when one of them randomly shouts in outrage due to the other twitching their eyelids wrong.
Tim likes confusing and horrifying Duke by telling him fun facts about the family. He'll tell them in the most damning way to watch the chaos. "The scar on Jason's neck is from Bruce choosing the Joker over Jason."
And that is Tim taking it easy on the Bats because he loves and cares about them (and because it's funny).
The JL?
Red Robin terrifies all of the members who doubted him. The terror doubles when they see him happily chatting with YJ or the Bats. The version of Tim the JL gets is a scarily competent and cold persona. They thought he lost the ability to smile until Red Hood (and who let a crime lord into the Watchtower???) grabbed Red Robin a peace offering Zesti.
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mishellii · 2 days
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♢ᴘᴇᴛ ɴᴀᴍᴇꜱ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ♢
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naruto, sasuke, shikamaru, kiba, shino, neji, iruka & kakashi
a/n: sooo,, i SHOUld be working on my uni essays and on the bf!neji texts BUT this had been sitting in my notes app for a while so i decided to post it ;D (the neji texts will come soon i promise). some are longer, some are shorter for which i apologise,,,,,, please ignore typos, i can't spell & enjoy MWUAH
likes & reblogs appreciated <3
warnings: some NSFW parts! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! :) also not proofread as usual
masterlist
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♢ɴᴀʀᴜᴛᴏ ᴜᴢᴜᴍᴀᴋɪ♢
✿oh my baby boy
❀first off: angel. 100%.
✿because u are his angel u feel me
❀he can't go a day without telling u
✿then also just the basic baby
❀but mostly when he wants something from u or he's apologising for dumb stuff he's done
✿puppy eyes and all
❀and also during sexy time
✿it's his most used name for u there
✿fight me on this
❀big on his own self made nicknames for u
✿for instance: u fell down the stairs once?
❀"hey, stairs, how you doin'"
✿and just silly ones like: boo, pookie, apple of my eye
❀he's weird like that c'mon we been knew
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♢ꜱᴀꜱᴜᴋᴇ ᴜᴄʜɪʜᴀ♢
✿now this guy is a wild card
❀he'd prefer ur name through & through
✿but he'd slip in a casual babe sometimes which makes ur knees weak obviously
❀because he barely ever calls u that
✿if ur married he'd only call you his wife
❀doesn't even let you answer questions on your own sometimes just so he can hit them with
❀"well, MY WIFE, thinks you suck ass, so.."
✿during sex he can be quiet mean 
❀I DONT THINK in the derogatory way but more in a teasing way
✿"c'mon, sweetheart, look at me."
❀when ur just about to black out??
✿but like i said 
❀not big on pet names but he'll use them more often if he knows u enjoy it <3
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♢ꜱʜɪᴋᴀᴍᴀʀᴜ ɴᴀʀᴀ♢
✿pretty
❀just pretty bro.
✿not ALL THE TIME, especially not in public as i don't think he's big on PDA
❀but in the comfort of ur own 4 walls? definitely
✿now don't HATE ME for this but,,,
❀woman. and brat.
✿but only in petty situations, like when ur scolding his lazy ass and he hits u with a "go easy on me, woman, i just woke up."
❀or u've been going on his nerves while he's working
✿,,i'm busy, brat.''
❀in bed tho???
✿love or doll
❀i'm almost CERTAIN.
✿like,, can u imagine?? in his dumb fucking charming voice ???
❀PFFF i'm on my knees 
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♢ᴋɪʙᴀ ɪɴᴜᴢᴜᴋᴀ♢
✿now this fucker
❀teasing names through & through
✿ur shorter than him? 
❀"hey, shortie, need help?"
✿ur taller than him?
❀"hey, giant, how's the weather up there?"
✿he's a DICK ok (affectionately ofc)
❀but he can be sweet too i promise
✿he's having fun with calling u bunny during sex or simply baby 
❀also ???? "okay, boss." when he's been annoying u all day and u finally snap at him?
✿he's a menace with nicknames i'm telling u
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♢ꜱʜɪɴᴏ ᴀʙᴜʀᴀᴍᴇ♢
✿you probably guessed it and bully me if you'd like but,,,
❀bug or lovebug
✿come oooon he loves his bugs AND he loves you?? it fits PERFECTLY
❀not one to do it infront of other people either but in your private space he just wouldn't stop calling you one of these
✿i also see him using the regular honey but the abbreviation so hun because it's short and sweet and he doesn't like those long ass names
❀apologies if ur name is long LMAO mine is too tho
✿takes the hun into the bedroom but prefers a gentle love while having sex
❀shino's not a sweet talker in my mind, but the pet names make up for it FOSHOU
✿ALSO big brain idea i just had:
❀i think shino can't fully express his emotions verbally so before going on missions he definitely writes u letters and that's where he's blooming
✿''u keep me going everyday, sunshine.''
❀and it doesn't even matter if you have a bubbly personality or not
✿UGH lovesick fr
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♢ɴᴇᴊɪ ʜʏᴜɢᴀ♢
❀this pretty princess doesn't even know ur name when ur alone with him 
✿ESPECIALLY when ur texting
❀sweetheart, love & darling
✿he'd make u fall in love over again whenever he calls u one of those i'm just saying
❀because he's always so sincere when he's talking to u it drives me crazy just thinking about it 
✿during sexy time too, he would NEVER
❀& i will die on this hill 
✿NEVER use any degrading names for u
❀ur his baby don't make him do that
✿even when ur fighting, he'd always address u in such a kind way i'm actually going insane
❀"have you had dinner yet, dear?"
✿ sedate me pls
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♢ɪʀᴜᴋᴀ ᴜᴍɪɴᴏ♢
✿AAA this guy
❀soo,, like father like son,,, angel
✿u can't change my mind
❀being the kind hearted person he is, it just fits u can't tell me off
✿but i will also say he'd use some funny ones in private because we all know he's just a silly lil guy deep inside
❀i'm thinking toots & peach
✿especially when greeting u !! like ''ey, toots, how's it going?''
❀during sex he will be quiet awkward at the start of ur relationship, settling in angel as he's most familiar with it at first
✿but after some time he'd pull a babydoll or gorgeous on u
❀i mean,,, i'd cry but idk about y'all
✿oVERALL he loves using pet names and wouldn't be opossed to u calling him some sweet ones as well <3
❀call him handsome and he'll go through the roof
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♢ᴋᴀᴋᴀꜱʜɪ ʜᴀᴛᴀᴋᴇ♢
✿AHEM
❀so this man,,
✿at the start of ur relationship he's such a shy lil bean so he'll only use your first name
❀but once he's been with you long enough he gets so so comfortable
✿starts of with the regular baby because u are his baby aight.
❀his most frequently used one too i'd say
✿but then he'd go like 
❀"hey, beautiful." "y'alright, sweetheart?"
✿and idk about u but i'd faint
❀HE KNOWS ABOUT HIS AFFECT ON U TOO
✿uses it against u during sex SO OFTEN
❀grunting a "there y'go, darling." into your ear with a sly smirk on his lips 
✿i'm (s)creaming
❀but he's a very private person so don't expect too much of that in public !!
✿a side from a "yes, ma'am" when u tell him not to die on a mission <3
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a/n: i hope this doesn't SUCK ahemm,,, and i'll see you beans next time bye bye x
devider by @enchanthings
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harrysbelovedd · 3 days
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the kook's girl [rafe cameron]
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pairing - rafe cameron x kook reader
summary - being the only girl in the kook friend group, you were always taken care of. especially since you and rafe started dating four months ago. safe to say, everyone on the island knew not to mess with you if they valued their life at all. so, when the tourons came to town in the summer, the kook boys always got their bit of fun.
warnings - swearing, fighting, just our fav protective!rafe
"Sarah, it's our song!" She slurred, grabbing onto her best friend's hand, pulling her onto the dance floor.
Rafe and Sarah are never on good terms, but Rafe knows no matter how much he hates his sister, she'll always be his girl's best friend. He's grateful for it sometimes, as annoying as it can be, it's just one more person who cares about her and is always looking out for her when Rafe can't be.
But tonight, as both kook girls are drunk off their asses, Rafe keeps a close eye. He spots John B doing the same from across the club as he sits next to Kiara, still keeping a close eye on his girl, Sarah.
Rafe sits in a booth at the club, nursing a glass of whiskey in his palm. Topper and Kelce sit next to him, talking about things he could not care less about at the moment. For example, the girls on the dance floor they want to take home, golf, etc.
No, Rafe's attention is solely on the girl who lights up the dance floor in her sparkly pink dress which Rafe bought for her just three days prior. Her gold necklace with the letter 'R' hanging from her neck shines brightly as the club lights hit it. Her baby pink kitten heels travel her elegantly across the floor as her arm remains tightly latched onto Sarah's as they dance in tune.
He barely even notices the slight smile etched onto his lips in affection as he takes a slow sip from his glass.
"Yo!"
Rafe's attention is abruptly moved from his girl to his dumbass friends as Topper pulls on his white half-way unbuttoned shirt.
"What?" Rafe spits, rolling his eyes at their antics.
"Tourons, 12 o'clock." Topper warns.
"What the fuck? I think they're looking at Y/n and Sarah, man." Kelce points out, suddenly sitting up straighter as they both snap out of their previous conversations to keep an eye on the situation.
This catches his attention as he clocks the three sun burnt tourists waltzing in wearing khaki shorts, polos, and flip flops. Idiots. He notices one of them point in Y/n's direction as the other's snicker, laughing as they spoke to each other.
Rafe’s eyes dart back to Y/n, oblivious as ever, in her own little world.
"I've almost been waiting to pick a fight," He confesses. "Just wait till they get too close."
The three morons make their way in the direction of Y/n. One particular guy, wearing a blue tropical button up, comes up behind Y/n, tapping her shoulder. Rafe is just close enough to overhear the conversation.
“Hey, I’m Ethan,” he smirks, hungry eyes looking her up and down.
She turns around, her smile slightly fading at his stare. “Um, hi.” She spins back around, grabbing onto Sarah.
“You two are pretty little things, out here by yourselves.” He chuckles, his hand moving to her shoulder.
“You gonna go out there man?” Topper asks, getting anxious for the girls.
“No, just wait. I want a real excuse to kill em’.” Rafe responds, his fists clenching.
Ethan’s grimy hands near Y/n’s neck, his index finger latching onto her gold ‘R’ necklace. “What’s your name, hm? R…?”
“You’re gonna regret that,” Y/n whispers, her eyes meeting Rafe.
Rafe stands, marching over to Ethan. Rafe’s fist latches onto the back of his collar, pulling him back as Y/n’s necklace slips from his grasp. Rafe turns him around, knocking a punch to his jaw, blood spurting from his lips onto Rafe’s face.
Rafe lets go aggressively, the boy falling to the ground forcefully. Rafe smirks, his ringed hand coming up to wipe Ethan’s blood from his jaw. “The ‘R’ stands for Rafe. Her boyfriend.” He states before knocking one more punch to the boy’s cheek.
“I-I’m sorry,” He pathetically whimpers, begging for mercy.
“She clearly had zero fucking interest in you, yet you continued,” He chuckles. Rafe leans down, pulling Ethan’s neck up by his collar. “You better hope your flight out of here is tomorrow morning. If not, watch your back man.”
Topper and Kelce come into view, peering at the man below Rafe, only inciting more fear into the poor tourist. Ethan’s two friends quickly pull him up, scattering out of the club as fast as they can.
Rafe turns to Y/n, his demeanor immediately turning soft, a side of himself only she gets to see. “You okay, baby?” He asks, his eyes scanning over her face for any discomfort.
“I’m okay, just some asshole tourist.” She rolls her eyes, manicured fingers grasping onto her necklace.
His eyes flick down to her hand, she only fidgets with her necklace when she’s uncomfortable or nervous. He feels more rage and anger boil up inside him thinking about how that guy ruined her night of fun with Sarah.
“Wanna go home, baby?” Rafe whispers softly, fingers pushing her hair behind her ears.
She bites her lip in debate, turning toward her friend Sarah. Sarah nods her head, “It’s okay, I’m gonna have John B take me back to his place too, it’s getting late anyway.”
“Yeah, okay, let’s go home. I’ll text you Sarah, we can hang out tomorrow, yeah?” Y/n feels guilty, her and Sarah haven’t gotten to spend as much time together ever since she started dating John B and hanging out with his friends more.
Y/n had nothing against the pogues, she thought the rivalry was stupid and childish. She actually found them quite nice, but she spends every minute with her best friends, Rafe, Topper, and Kelce.
Rafe slings his arm around her shoulder after giving his goodbyes to Topper and Kelce, walking you to his truck. He opens the door for you without a word, buckling you in and shutting the door.
When he gets in on his side, starting the truck, he looks over at his girl at her sad eyes. “What’s wrong, angel?”
She sniffles, “I just miss Sarah. Wanted to hang out with her tonight but those guys ruined it.”
Rafe’s hand slips around her thigh, patting it lovingly. “I know, hon. I’m sorry. I’ll make sure Sarah gets her ass off the cut tomorrow to hang out with you, okay?”
She smiles, her hand finding comfort atop Rafe’s. “I love you.”
“I love you more,” he leans over, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek.
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youandiwerealive · 3 days
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Praying that the blood doesn’t stain [rd]
Author’s note: I cried so much while writing this one, I don’t even know what to say to you, girls, this broke my heart. Thank you to the anon who requested insecure dad!Rúben, sorry this took such a huge turn 😭 Hope you somehow enjoy this!
Warnings: there’s mentions of death and blood in this one ‼️
wc: 2107 - English is not my first language! Feedback is always appreciated
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There’s no biggest joy in Rúben’s life than his family. You and your daughter, Matilde, really are the light of his eyes. The little girl has him wrapped around her tiny finger, he could never say no her.
“Daddy, can I paint your nails pink?” - the 4 year old would ask him in her cute voice.
“You want to paint my nails, Mati? Of course, but choose a pretty shade of pink that matches daddy’s game shirt, okay?” - he would say to her in a soft voice, always smiling at his baby.
Matilde would do everything with his dad. Anywhere Rúben went, Matilde was there too, always tightly held at his hip, or taking her slow baby steps towards her daddy’s direction.
And Rúben couldn’t stop thanking God, the stars, destiny, whatever put you in his way: the love of his life that made him a dad, the most important role of his life. Nothing could top the importance that you and Matilde had in Rúben’s life, he would always put his girls first. He never felt so happy, with his daughter on his lap and his wife by his side, living in your indestructible bubble of love.
But it all changed two years ago. Rúben will never forget that fateful afternoon, he was having a tea party with your baby, when he got the call from the hospital. A drunk driver hit your car while you were on your way home, making Rúben losing his other half, forever. The news hitting him like a shot in the chest, straight to the heart.
He will never recover from your absence, leaving him to raise the light of your lives all by himself. Matilde is now six years old, she has already started school, now learning how to draw her first letters. Rúben still cries himself to sleep every single night, thinking about you, about how unfair fate was to both of you. You just had your baby, Matilde was only four years old when she lost his mother.
He misses you so fucking much, and your daughter does too. Rúben finds it incredible how Matilde remembers so much of you, always remembering things that you used to say to her, plays and jokes that you had with her. Rúben secretly believes that you talk to her in her dreams, because it’s like she has you always by her side.
Rúben tries his best to not break down in front of your child, especially when she asks about you. It’s been tough for Rúben to be a single dad, missing your support, the way you always seemed to make every thing right. He never looked at another woman again, his eyes and heart belonging to his daughter only - as well as to you, forever. He still wears his wedding ring, never taking it off. He hates the fact that life didn’t allowed him to say goodbye to you, to give you one last kiss. The last time he told you he loved you was over the phone, while you informed him that you were on your way home. Him and Mati cheekily saying “we love youuuu”, over the phone, while Rúben would pretend to drink a cup of tea, wearing a tiara on his head and sitting besides Berny - the bunny, and Johnny - the bear, named after Bernardo and John Stones, Rúben’s friends and Mati’s uncles.
His friends and family never left his side, they notice that Rúben has never been the same again after what happened, everybody knows it.
Matilde is the only thing that can make him smile, making him feel alive as he teaches her how to write her name, paints ballerinas and flowers with her, cooks for her and teaches her how vegetables and fruits are important for her health. Rúben’s life mission is educating his girl in the best possible way he can, be by her side at all times and protect her from every one and every thing.
Every time Rúben looks at his daughter, his heart stings a little, she looks so much like you now. She has your eyes, your smile. At the same time, there’s nothing that he loves more than looking at his baby, resembling the love of his life so much, like you’re still with them.
He can’t do his daughter’s hair as pretty as you could, but Matilde is a gentle and caring girl, she always has a smile on her face and a compliment to give to her dad. “I love my ponytails daddy, you did great” - she would always notice every morning after Rúben would neatly comb her hair, using her favourite pink hair clips with butterflies on them.
She would thank him with a gentle kiss on his cheek, his favourite feeling in the world being the love of your daughter, the way she would tightly wrap her tiny arms around his neck when he would pick her up, how she would hold his hand while walking in the street, her loving kisses on her father’s face, and the way she laughs when his beard tickles her.
When Matilde is at school and Rúben founds himself alone, he lets his thoughts take advantage of him. You are always on his mind, there’s not a second when he isn’t thinking about you. But when nobody is watching, he cries his heart out, still questioning life about the reason why they took you away from him. He often goes to the cemetery, to talk to you, to tell you everything about Matilde - even though he knows you’re always watching over her, protecting your baby. He drops kisses on your grave, whispering how much he loves you, how much he misses you. And how badly he needs you more and more as time goes by. Matilde is getting bigger and she needed her mother too.
After he picks her up from school, Rúben is cooking dinner for the both of them, while his daughter is playing in the garden. He gets lost in his thoughts, unable to stop himself to think how the house is silent without you in it, how life was never the same.
His daughter’s cry takes him out of his trance. He immediately goes to search her outside, Matilde already running to meet her dad. Rúben’s heart breaks at the sight: his baby’s face is wet from all the tears, and her noise and chin are running blood.
Rúben immediately picks her up and rushes to the bathroom, sitting his daughter on the counter, while he tries to clean up her wounds. The little girl hisses and whimpers in pain, poor child fell while playing on the rocks - bruising her knees too. Rúben stops the bleeding and decorates his girl’s wounds with pink band-aids that have hearts in them. Those make Matilde smile a little bit, as she stretches her arms to hug his dad. Rúben holds her tightly, the girl hiding her sad face on his dad’s neck. He kisses her head non-stop, now lying in bed with his daughter still in his chest.
Matilde sleeps in Rúben’s bed now. It’s been like this since you passed away, he feels like he can’t sleep alone anymore - his nightmares about your accident chasing him every night.
The two of them stay silent as Rúben is still leaving kisses on his precious baby and stroking her back carefully. All of the sudden, there’s a little sound.
“Daddy?” - Matilde asks quietly, her voice sounding muffled from her face still being hidden on her dad’s neck.
“Yes, amor?” - Matilde knows a lot of portuguese now, understanding all the pet names and the lectures her father gives her sometimes.
“I miss mommy” - she admits with a little cry escaping her eyes.
Rúben closes his eyes and sighs. “I know, baby. I miss her too” - he admits to his daughter, his voice threatening to fail as well.
“Do you still love her, even though she’s not here with us?” - the little girl questions, her big brown eyes now looking up at his father, who kissed her forehead before speaking.
“Of course I do, filha. Have you stopped loving mommy?” - he asks her back and smiles when the girl firmly shakes her head ‘no’.
“You see, mommy is not physically here with us, but she’s always around. She’s always inside of us, here” - he points at the where his heart is located.
“In our hearts?” - Matilde confirms the place.
“In our hearts, baby. You know the necklace you wear every single day, since you were little?” - Rúben references the silver necklace that has a butterfly, a flower and the letter ‘M’ engraved on a plate in a round shape. You bought it and personalised it to gift it to your daughter.
The initial letter of her name, the butterfly - to let her know that she can always rebirth and become the best version of herself, and a flower - a tulip, to be more specific. The tulip is the flower that represent the perfect love, and you put it on her necklace so she can always remember that she is fruit of a gigantic and true love, yours and Rúben’s, and his mission is to teach her how to never set for anything less than the love his parents shared, that got her into his world.
“My necklace, yes” - the girl answers while her hand instinctively reaches to touch it.
“Mommy gave it to you, and while you have it on, she’s always looking down at you and protecting you. That’s why you can never take it off, Mati” - her father explained.
The girl just smiled at his father, and hugged him tightly, knowing that he is all that she has, but feeling in her heart that her mother is always by her side.
That night, while Matilde was peacefully sleeping in his chest, Rúben couldn’t fall asleep, no matter how hard he tried.
His mind was rushing from the previous events - remembering her face full of tears and blood, the conversation about you. Rúben can’t help but doubt himself as a father - it happens more often that he would like to.
It’s been two years, but he’s still discovering how to be a solo father, an adventure that he had to take on with his daughter - not really having a choice. And sometimes he can’t help but doubt his ‘daddy abilities’ - fighting himself for not being attentive enough to protect Matilde from hurting herself on those damn rocks. That’s his job, for fucks sake. He needs to pay full attention to his baby, to prevent this type of things from happening. He would never forgive himself if something happened to the light of his life.
He misses you, your advices. He misses your mom side, you were the perfect mother to Matilde, and he can’t help but imagine how would life be if you were still here with them. Matilde has a lot of your personality, she is extroverted, funny, smiley and bubbly - just like you were. There’s times where she gives Rúben some sassy answers, leaving him speechless, having an attitude just like yours. He looks at pictures of you two, when you started dating, and some pictures already after Matilde was born. He knows that the blood on Matilde’s wounds won’t stain her clothes, but the blood surrounding your loss will forever stain his heart, his mind, his life.
Life without you doesn’t seem worthy of living most of the times to him, but his baby is the only thing pushing him from the ground. She’s his partner in life now, filling his heart with love and laugh when all he wants to do is cry.
The moments when they sing in the car on their way to school, when Matilde makes Rúben dance like a proper ballerina - making him wear a pink tutu and all, make his life worth living. His baby’s laugh means the world to him, gives him strength and hope in a brighter future.
He wishes you were here with him, reassuring him that everything was going to be okay. But, the way your daughter starts stirring in her sleep, and holds herself tightly to him for comfort and protection, already looks like a sign to him. He’s a good dad, and he and Mati will never be alone, since they have the most beautiful and bright star looking down at them, protecting and guiding them - forever.
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silkval · 23 hours
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♜】 the innermost alphabet
》 content desc/warnings
a tiiiny bit suggestive, mainly just descriptive, boothill being clingy (canon), boothill has mecha body but still has all senses, no particular dom/sub roles, boothill nor readers anatomy specified
★fujoshis, wlm and minors please fuck off- you will be blocked★
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𝔄 》 Affection
how do they react to it? how often do they show it?
well, boothill is not one to shy away from showing affection to his beloved boyfriend- not one bit. It's like he's got this whole repertoire of gestures just waiting to spill out at any given moment. you'll catch him throwing an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in so you're practically attached at the hip with nothing but a grin and a cheeky murmur to excuse the proximity oh, and do not get him started on when you initiate any affection- this man is putty in your hands. holding on just a tad longer than what's considered normal, it does get a little stuffy with the small space between the two of you, but it's not all that bad- just to hear the thrum of his motors speeding up, and even the occasional familiar ‘click’ of his cooling system kicking in because he's just so damn happy to be in your hold. but that isn't all boothill's got a knack for some little, more discreet touches too; a hand on the small of your back, fingers brushing against yours when passing something over, or leaning in real close just to be able to hear your voice drop an octave, all quiet and slightly raspy in a way that makes his mechanical heart whirr with how intimate it feels. just a total sweetheart, honestly.
𝔅》 Behavior
do they have any small habits, absentminded tics or such?
oh, he's got his quirks alright. one thing you'll notice real quick is that this guy always needs something to do with his hands- It's like they're damn allergic to being idle. whether it's twirling a piece of straw between his fingers or absentmindedly tapping along to a tune stuck in his head, they're always in motion- but when he's with you, those hands seem to have a mind of their own. they'll find their way to you, resting comfortably around your waist or brushing against your back with nothing but a sly, lopsided grin. And I swear, this guy may have… a little bit of an obsession, as you'll often find him leaning in rather close. Like, very close- why? well, when you ask him, you'll notice a slight pause- an indication of fluster- and a delayed “y’smell good, okay?” It's endearing, honestly- like he can't help himself, drawn to your scent like a moth to a flame. And when he gets that close, you'll feel the weight of his chin resting atop your head or shoulder, which, by default, is rather innocent- yet if you let him get a little too close to your neck, it's not uncommon for things to get a little heated.
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hjeeeeeeeeeeezusz. this took ages to start but at least something is out lol. ANYWAY. I'm gonna try release 2 letters per 1-2 weeks- not sure if I'm gonna stick with pretty boy boothill or switch it up ever so n so. but yeah. here's to the start of a new (and hopefully more maintainable) series!!!
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heavenlyraindrops · 3 days
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♱ Father Forgive Me (For I have Sinned) ~Chapter Twelve ♱
Lucifer Morningstar x Angel!Reader Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Chapter Twelve Warnings: profanity Click on the first tag to see all the other chapters
♱Where the purest soul in Heaven falls for the Devil♱
[Chapter Twelve]
You set your phone down on the counter as someone pounded hard on your front door. You flinched, immediately recognising the knocks.
You opened it, standing in the doorway and blocking the entrance before smiling thinly. “Adam. Lute. To what do I owe this displeasure?”
Adam arched an eyebrow. “Well someone’s gotten cocky,” he sneered, trying to brush past you. You put your foot in the way, making him stop and whirl around.
“The fuck’s your problem?” Lute snapped, storming forward. “Let us in.”
“Back off. You’re not coming inside until you tell me what you want.” You put your hand on her chest, pushing her back. She blanched, and looked at Adam helplessly.
Adam’s expression darkened as he leaned in to whisper. “Are you forgetting what I know?”
You bunched up his collar in your fist, dragging him in even closer. “There’s still one month left before I decide. You tell, I fall, and you’ll never fucking marry me.” You released him and he stumbled back a little, face hard, but you could tell you had frazzled him as you stood aside to let them in.
“Go in, then,” you said flatly. They both flashed triumphant smiles at you.
“Where’re the hellspawn?”
“Why?”
“We just wanna talk to them,” Adam said, smiling innocently as if he hadn’t been threatening you five seconds ago. His lips moved, mouthing more threats as if he had no shame in blackmailing someone.
“Upstairs,” you said reluctantly, then jabbed a finger in his direction. “And if you lay a hand on them…”
“Pinky promise,” came the reply, thrown over his shoulder as he sauntered up the stairs. Lute glanced back at you, her frown deepening.
You sat down at the kitchen counter, an internal debate raging within you. A letter lay on your right, next to your elbow. You wondered if you should have asked Charlie to deliver it to Lucifer for you, or not.
You sighed, shutting it away in a drawer.
♱♱♱
It had been hours since Charlie and Vaggie had left, shortly after Lute and Adam had stormed out. You’d waved them off, wishing them good luck. As you shook Charlie’s hand, your hand clamped around hers, pulling her in to whisper.
“Between you and me, love,” you muttered. “You’re more than just right in this.” You hesitated. “Tell Lu…” you mumbled the rest of the sentence, trailing off into a volume barely audible as you chickened out. She blinked at you, befuddled, before her lips stretched into another smile as she pulled you into a hug.
“Thank’s, [name],” she said. Vaggie nodded approvingly from behind her, before they both turned around and left.
You watched them fade into the distance, before stumbling back inside. You took the letter out of the drawer and crumpled it up, throwing it in the bin. You felt like you were about to throw up.
“Fuck,” you gasped.
♱♱♱
“Emily? How was the trial?”
You blinked down at the seraph, who gazed up at you solemnly. You could tell there were angry tears behind her eyes, threatening to spill out. “Tell me you didn’t know,” she said, voice trembling. You took her hand, pulling her inside and setting her at the couch.
“Didn’t know what?” You asked, gently and cautiously. At the same time, the door swung open again, and Adam barged in.
“Sugar tits, we fuckin’ won,” he cackled, grabbing your wrist. “I kicked those cunts back downstairs where they belong-“ he paused, eyes sliding over to Emily.
You gulped.
Emily stood up, hands bunched up into fists. “You did, didn’t you,” she hissed. You let out a small breath.
“Emily, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“She’s talking about the exterminations,” Adam rolled his eyes, slinging an arm around your shoulder with a hand on his hip as he stared Emily down. You stiffened, looking at him as if to say ‘what the hell did you do?’ But refrained yourself from saying anything aloud.
She blanched at the look on your face. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t anyone tell me?” She stretched her arms out wide, and her wings stretched with her. Your heart sank.
“No one is supposed to know about the exterminations except for the exorcists,” you said calmly as you could, despite a slight shake in your voice as you straightened up and pulled your shoulders back.
“You know, and you’re not an exorcist,” she retorted, eyes accusing. You stepped back.
“[name]’s special,” Adam sneered, looking at you. You couldn’t meet his stare.
“It’s for the greater good. Are you really questioning Sera’s judgment?”
Emily’s shoulders sank. “You don’t believe that,” she said, as if she was trying to convince herself instead of simply making a statement. You gulped.
Did you agree with the exterminations? You had never really thought about it. But if they hadn’t existed you never would have met-
“Emily, I don’t like them either,” you said, leaning forward and gripping her shoulders, desperation oozing from your like an aura. “But Heaven needs to keep the pure- the good souls, safe from the bad.” You felt a stab at your heart even as you said it, because saying those words made you feel like you were betraying Charlie and Vaggie, but you pressed on. “Emily, no one enjoys the exterminations.”
Adam scoffed from behind you, stalking forward and yanking you back. “Oh please, sugar tits.” He looked hard at Emily. “The exorcists love the extermination. It’s the perfect form of entertainment!” His eyes and grin widened, and you flinched away as his gaze snapped back to you again. “And don’t pretend like you’re against them, sugar. You wouldn’t have met your demon boyfriend if it weren’t for them.” His tone was lined with hurt, as if getting with Lucifer was the biggest betrayal you could have done to him.
And, you realized, in a way, it was.
“What?” Emily said, wondering if she had heard him right. You could feel your face heat up, your golden blood turning to fire in your veins.
“I said,” Adam clarified, “if it wasn’t for the exterminations, she’d be bored as fuck here.” Emily frowned, but you could tell she believed him. “What’d you think I said?” He didn’t wait for an answer, turning back to you. “Don’t act like you threw yourself at the chance to come along with us down to Hell.”
You chewed your lip furiously, mind racing. “Don’t you dare throw me under the bus.”
“Why fuckin’ shouldn’t I?” He hissed, eyes glittering darkly. You could sense the meaning underneath, cutting you like a double edged sword.
“You know what?” You said, flatly. “You’re just pissy that your dick is so fucking tiny, Like- opposite the size of your fatass ego, which is so big it’s fucking obese, by the way- that you lost three women to a guy who lives in a dimensional oven.” You jabbed your finger at him. “I’d rather date the Devil himself than a fucking cunt like you,” you scoffed. “At least he’d last more than thirty seconds.”
Emily stared at you blankly, amazed, not ever having heard you swear so much, and also by your blatant blasphemy. You pulled back, smoothing down your shirt, satisfied at Adam’s shocked expression. You glanced at her.
“I wouldn't actually,” you reassured her, lying straight through your teeth.
♱♱♱
A/N: first of my double chapter release. Two chapters in one day isn’t that crazy?!.?, turns out my 400th follower was my friend stalking me… they read all my smut. I’m cooked 😁 Coco if ur reading this… get off my blog rn
I’m giving up on the taglist cause it don’t work anymore sorry guys 😔
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ellecdc · 1 day
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Mother, serious question mainly for my own self-esteem 😮‍💨😅
How do you think the boys (any of them really) would view a partner with like all sorts of facial piercings and like rat tails in their hair and funky colors(truly best describes as a queer little gremlin lol). Cause I know Marlene and Sirius have an alt rock aesthetic (I don't think I spelled that right) but as much as I love these characters I never feel like I would have fit in with them if I was really there ya know?
Idk it's kinda stupid but just curious on you're thoughts on this. They're just so cool and I would hope they would like me enough to at least be my friend if they were real 😮‍💨😖
okay first of all, love the title queer little gremlin; let's all capitalize those letters and add them to surveys when they ask you how you identify plsss??
Here's my take:
James:
I love (and follow religiously) the headcanon that James is pansexual but I believe that expands beyond just gender identity, if that makes sense?
It doesn't matter if you're male or female or anywhere in between or beyond or both or all
and I feel like it doesn't really matter what you look like to him
I feel like he loves people for their hearts, their minds, their interests, etc
I feel like he'd maybe be worried because....those had to hurt??? you do that on purpose? doesn't it hurt terribly? his poor sweet angel????
I also see him as the type of bf who would be like "oh! are we changing colours? which one's? can I help?" and will dutifully like, adorn gloves and sit in the bathroom breathing in dye fumes and chatting away with you while the two of you talk about everything and nothing - I think he'd love spending that time with you and it would be special bonding time
(also, have you seen the James fan art with him with a nose ring??? fuck me sideways)
Sirius:
you're so right re: alt-rock aesthetic etc
I think he'd find the facial piercings awesome tbh, you might even have inspired him to get one or more of his own
I think he'd make it almost a competition of who can dress the most grunge that day hahaha - but the two of you would make quite the couple
also? you look like the kind of person his posh, prissy, stuck up parents would hate seeing him with - that's totally a bonus
I see this guy as someone who loves hair care and would be horrified at how much/often you change your hair colour and would insist on helping you/buying the more expensive products/ensure you're doing it right to save your hair from too much damage
that's the only 'problem' I see him having
Remus:
idk, I kind of see him a little bit like James tbh; looks would be a little less important to him? like he doesn't care how you express yourself in terms of style and clothes
what would be important to him is that you're kind and patient, that you're openminded and considerate of others
I mean...he's littered with scars, is he not? He doesn't exactly look "normal" (derogatory) and would probably feel very similar to what you've described; like he doesn't feel he particularly 'fits in' with his friends
I see him having like, not long hair but like a decent head of curls, and he'd totally love if you braided a few little pieces of his hair like your 'rat tails'
I think he'd find the hair fun; you'd show up one day with new colours and I could see his face lighting up like 😃 "that looks great love; so fun"
Regulus:
he's tricky because he's so posh and stuck up lmfao
BUT
people also ship bartylus and I see so much Barty fan-art somewhat similar to how you've described yourself and if Reg likes Barty - he'd certainly like you too
Barty:
as mentioned above, I could totally see him having like a green streak in his hair or something
perhaps some piercings (I think he'd get piercings down below.....), tongue piercing, nose piercing, eyebrow piercing - I feel like he'd be down for it all himself, so he wouldn't mind it on you at all either
and again, as a guy with daddy issues, he'd be a lot like Sirius and think the better chance he has at dating someone who would sooooo piss of his dad - the better!
thanks for your ask babes <3
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x-liv25-jamieswife · 3 days
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A head cannon if Grayson died and how everyone would react.
people's reaction to grayson's death head canons
of course<3. i won't format it the same was as my other hcs posts though cause i feel like it wouldn't make as much sense. hope you like them <3.
avery: avery would definitely try to act tough around everyone else. she'd try to be there for the three brothers and would suppress her feelings. she would definitely visit his grave every single day to talk to him/visit him. she thinks the afterlife would be boring so she makes sure to make time for him every day. things around the house would remind her of him (like almost everything). she would see a blanket or smth and think 'hey, this is the blanket that we used that one night when we watched pride and prejudice'. she would try her best not to cry bc she knows grayson would tell her he wasn't worth her tears, but she would not be able to stop her tears when they came.
xander: xander would deal with his death by spending every day and night in his lab trying to distract himself. whenever he'd see something he knew grayson would like when he'd be out shopping, he'd buy it even though he knew gray would never receive it. he would pretend he's fine and would crack his usual jokes but no one found them funny bc every one was hurting. at the same time, he'd try to cheer every one up (including himself) by remembering the good times and funny things grayson did. he would make gadgets and stuff and dedicate them to grayson. at the end of the day, he would lie in bed and talk to him. also, instead of leaving flowers at his grave, he'd leave small inventions or little letters.
jameson: he would drown himself in alcohol. enough to land himself in the hopsital multiple times on the verge of death. nash and xander would come in screaming at him telling him they couldn't lose another brother. jamie would also visit his grave everyday to talk to him about his worries or just to ask him how he's doing in the afterlife (knowing he obviously wouldn't get a response). he'd gradually start doing less risky things knowing grayson wouldn't approve and knowing his brothers wouldn't be able to handle it if he died too (avery too obviously). he'd also be the type of person who just wouldn't be able to get out of bed. he'd just lay there and rot wondering why gray had to die (he thinks if anyone should've died, it should've been himself)
nash: he would try to act tough around everyone else thinking it was his responsibility to keep the family going. at the same time, he'd also be the one to handle his grief the most healthily. he'd reassure everyone that feeling sad and mad was a normal response to grief, and that, burying your feelings would only make things worse. he brings flowers to grayson's grave at least once a week. he'd be the type of person who would not be able to just sit still and process his grief though. he'd have to get up and go work/save some 'lost souls' to feel better. he'd have to reassure himself that, wherever gray was, he was fine and he'd see him again someday.
libby (including her bc she's my baby): libby would be the one actually holding everyone together. she'd be everyone's therapist whilst still grieving herself. she'd head to everyone's room every day and ask them how they were doing/if they needed anything. she would also be baking non-stop. she would bake and bake until they didn't have the ingredients she needed to bake anymore. she would leave some of the cupcakes at gray's grave. she'd constantly remember the heartfelt conversations they'd had and they laughs they shared.
this post fucking made me cry. kill me pls.
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sitp-recs · 3 days
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hi! please feel free to delete this! but i read through your rec list (and found some amazing fics, ty!!) but i was wondering if you had any recs for fics where harry is helped by draco after the war? like he’s struggling with PTSD and being a public figure and going through it emotionally and draco takes care of him and helps him and they become closer for it and harry learns he doesn’t always have to be this Savior he can just be Harry with Draco! thank you in advance and sorry to bother you!
Not a bother at all, anon! I definitely have some recs for you. Some are set in the immediate post-war, some are set years later but they all explore Harry struggling with war/childhood trauma, fame, loneliness and the unbearable weight of having to find your way when no one else is telling you what to do anymore. Such a relatable feeling tbh. I hope you enjoy these!
Unseen by astolat (M, 11k)
When he wasn’t wearing it, he got jumpy, always waiting for someone to come at him wanting something—and now they did it even more urgently, if they ever saw him, because most of the time, nobody did.
Holly and Hawthorn, Thistle and Thyme by bryoneybrynn (T, 31k)
After the war, Harry can’t shake the feeling that something is very wrong with him and he has a terrible feeling he knows what that “something” might be. He has a terrible feeling Malfoy might know, too.
Expecto Patronum by @writcraft (E, 35k)
As Draco Malfoy negotiates his feelings for the wizarding world's brightest star, he becomes increasingly attached to Harry and unravels the secrets he keeps hidden from the rest of the world.
(Un)wanted by @aibidil (E, 36k)
Ginny's pregnant, then she's not and Harry's single. Harry, again with no family, doesn't know what to do with this turn of events, or how to find a new life—post-war, post-Ginny, post-abortion—in which he belongs. He doesn't expect that life to include dancing to the Backstreet Boys with Hermione and Draco Malfoy. A story of finding belonging in the unexpected.
He Who Must Not Be Normal by lettered (E, 41k)
Potter has fame and fortune and posh clothes and all he wants is a simple life. Draco has a flat and a cat and a steady job and all he wants is a complicated life. Which makes you think this story has something exciting like body-swapping, but it doesn’t.
Unseen by RenVeree (T, 47k)
Harry Potter finally has the chance to leave England and its expectations for The Chosen One behind for good. All he has to do is survive one Auror training conference overseas with Draco Sodding Malfoy.
Modern Love by @tackytigerfic (E, 61k)
Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is.
The Way Down by lettered (T, 65k)
Harry is overwhelmed by his own power and fame and angst, so he's become a hermit. Draco Malfoy is tired of the melodrama.
Harry Potter and the elusive day off by pleasebekidding (E, 71k)
Auror Potter needs a fucking break. He is wiped. He is exhausted. He probably didn't intend to put himself into a magical coma but these things happen. And who cares, really? He is comfortable in a house where he has hidden away all the shit he can't deal with.
I Am Not Who I Became by mab_di (E, 93k)
Draco left England after the trials and has travelled the world meeting wizards and Muggles from different cultures and with vastly different relationships to magic, each other, and the natural world. Now he's a fisherman in Finland on commercial vessels. Harry has been struggling since the war and has become a recluse while trying to write his autobiography.
Who we are in the shadows by @quicksilvermaid (E, 100k)
What happens when you’re forced to become the very thing you despise? Ex-Auror Harry Potter, tossed out of the Ministry for something he had no control over, has been looking for a way back to his former life. When he comes across Draco Malfoy in the criminal underbelly of Wizarding London and in need of protection, Harry figures bringing him in to face the Ministry's justice is his ticket back to everything he's lost.
A Sword Laid Aside by korlaena (E, 128k)
When Draco’s cover is blown during a deep undercover operation and the Ministry is compromised, Ron takes Draco to the only safe place he can think of—Potter. Hiding out with a taciturn Harry Potter, who has been missing from the Wizarding World for almost two decades after a shocking fall from grace, is nothing like Draco thought it would be
By the Grace by lettered (T, 140k)
Harry is an Auror instructor. Malfoy wants to be an Auror.
where all the veins meet by @saxamophone (E, 146k)
It's the summer of 1998. The battle is over, and Voldemort is dead, but Harry still has more questions than answers. Who is he without a piece of Voldemort's soul in his head? What is he supposed to do now?
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md-confessions · 1 day
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Trigger Warning for abuse since I am going to be talking about it a lot.
My honest reaction to TSM anon's confessions/posts trying to justify J's treatment of N. (They're so ass)
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Ok so uhh... Anyway I'll try to debunk some of the points:
First of all: yes the fuck she is abusive! Search the damn definition on Google or the dictionary, it's exactly what she's doing, like beat for beat.
Let's start with two examples: one from the manor and another from copper-9.
J kicking N in the manor flashback: for context N and V had literally just bumped into each other, made a spark and both were trying to clean up the mess they made, then comes in Ms. Tenth letter of the alphabet with a kick to N's face for like no fucking reason whatsoever.
J stepping on N's chest while he clearly struggles: In the pilot during the scene that introduces the Alphabet squad during J's introduction she has her foot on his chest while saying he's useless, terrible and if she could, she'd kill him herself and N is very clearly struggling to even breath.
Those two very clearly ARE abuse, the second one even has a tinge of verbal abuse!
Ok so TSM tried to justify both these actions by us not knowing the full context.
The context of the kick is that: there is none, that kick was completely unprovoked, so J had absolutely no reason for kicking N aside from him being in her way from the "move it moron" line, and she changes up her attitude completely at Tessa being there, her visor showing those hollow eyes that drones show when worried or scared.
But even if you say "oh but N was in J's way so she kicked him out" but she could have just, you know, MOVED A LITTLE BIT TO THE RIGHT?!?!? And also that does not excuse kicking a person in the face.
Context of the second scene is: THERE IS NONE, ONE AGAIN! The reason that scene exists is to show that A. J is abusive towards N, and B. J is a hypocrite! Let me explain, A is very self explanatory, stepping on someone's chest and verbally abusing them is very clearly well... Abuse and B is to show that even though she calls N useless, N has shown throughout the rest of the series he is a very competent fighter, arguably better than his fellow DDs and also that even though J was pretty much insulting N for being weak, she got killed by a Angsty bisexual 18-year-old with a pen and a Railgun made out of like, scrap.
I don't know how you can genuinely look at those scenes and go "J isn't an abuser" even though yes she fucking is.
Also I dead ass forgot that second post aside from the "why would Cyn put N in the squad if his abuser?" Part, which has a very simple explanation: it wasn't Cyn, it was Mr. Solver of the absolute fabric itself! It used Cyn as a host, Cyn wasn't in control, she prob has been dead for a long ass time.
The solver is sadistic and it likes fucking with the alphabet squad, take V as an example: it allowed V to keep her memories, just to make V's trauma even worse.
The solver thinks it's funny to traumatize people so why wouldn't it think putting a person in the same team as their abuser wouldn't be?
Anyways I've been typing this since 5:30 AM, and now it's 6:50 and I got school so I'll stop here, if you got anything else to add put it in the reblogs ig...
Final note: I haven't been abused myself (not that I remember) so I can't really fully grasp the concept, but still, J's treatment of N is like, the dictionary definition of Abuse, I'm very bad at understanding other people and their emotions and I'm not super great at analysing characters but this shit is so obviously abuse seeing TSM over here trying to say otherwise is giving me a brain aneurysm.
Anyways have a good day/evening/night or whatever time of day it is :D
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Text
Cookies and Brownies - Gaz x Reader
Content Warnings - Fluff with some very, very minor angst.
Series Masterlist
Masterlist
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Normally, Gaz did not find leaving his flat so difficult. Usually he was already gnawing at the bit to get back onto the field from his mandatory leave, to get back to doing something instead of lying around. Well now he had a reason to want to stay, for the person next door who also happens to work at his favorite bakery/cafe.
There is something cruel about that, ironically cruel. Gaz has never had any trouble getting people to come home with him, sometimes he didn’t even need to put on any of his charm. But he knows it was because of his looks, charming like a prince in a fairytale. Was it the military lifestyle? Was that why he found it so hard to keep people around him and wanting him? Maybe.
But you, you were different. You didn’t see his return to the military as a goodbye, closing your door on whatever is happening between the two of you. No, you worked out a solution in mere seconds. Gift packages, he’d seen some men he’s worked with before get them. Packages usually from loved ones, like family or partners. Sometimes from friends. Gaz hadn’t gotten one since his early days, back when his grandmother was still around. God rest her soul.
It’s two weeks later, two weeks into being at this base in this fucking desert that the package arrives. His name is called out alongside others and he is handed a package, it has several postmarks slapped onto it with your handwriting on the box for the address.
His stomach twists at the sight of your handwriting, how is that possible? How can he feel that way over handwriting? It’s not just anyone’s handwriting, Gaz thought, it's yours. Distinctly and completely yours. Something no other person could replicate, just you.
Gaz waits until he’s in his tent, empty thankfully, to cut open the package. Inside there is a letter on top of several tins that his mind immediately thinks are sewing supplies until he connects the dots. He opens the letter first, imagining his grandmother slapping the back of his head for being rude and going for the gifts first.
More of your handwriting, his heart pounds as he reads through the letter. He can’t help but rub his thumb over where you wrote his name. Kyle. His real name, not a call sign given to him years ago. Kyle Garrick.
Kyle opens the first tin and finds it filled to the brim with chocolate chip cookies. It dawns on Kyle then that there are four tins, which means lots of baked goods. He licks his lips as he pulls out the other tins and opens them, just to know which one’s hold which.
There is another tin of cookies, white macadamia nut and two tins of brownies. One looks like the classic kind and the other filled with cookie-brownies. He feels like a wolf staring down prey, unguarded sheep ready to be eaten. Before he digs in, he puts the tins away and rips a piece of paper from his notebook and writes.
Dear Kyle,
Hello! I hope the package found you alright and that I had added enough postmarks for it to make the journey. I hope you’re still at base and not somewhere fighting bad guys haha. Things here have seriously slowed down or maybe its because our best customer isn’t currently here. I made some cookies and brownies although they might be stale. If they are, I’m sorry but I’m not sure how to stop that from happening. Do you have any kind of favorite candies? If you send me a letter with your favorites I’ll be sure to include it in the next batch, maybe even bake it into the cookies.
It’s been raining impossibly often but according to Mrs. Thompson its that time of the year. Is that true or is she trying to keep me from rightfully complaining about not seeing the sun in a week? Why is it that when you left the sun decided to hide behind rain clouds? Do you have some kind of deal worked out with the weather? If so, let me in on it, there’s only so much rain a person can handle. Well, I don’t want to hold you up. Enjoy the likely stale cookies and brownies.
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imajinxnation · 2 days
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Hello! don john x reader angst where the reader thinks her love is unrequited?
Nighttime Love
Don John x FEM!Reader
SUMMARY // You're visiting your uncle in Messina, and Don John catches your eye. Little do you know, you've caught his too..
TW // Angst, Fluff, Suggestive..
Ugh love this idea..
I made the English a bit more modern, cause God knows how confusing Shakespearian English can be😭😭
Also, thank you @scarlettspectra for letting me use your gif! You're such a sweetheart, I swear!!
Omg I hate this one.. this fucking sucks so bad.. I had so little ideas for this..
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"My dear, why would you be in love with a man such as himself? You know what he's done to Hero and Don Pedro.. to everyone!" your uncle whispers, concerned for your feelings.
Currently, you and your uncle are in a stone alleyway, as you had pulled him aside from the market to confess to him your feelings for the quiet, stone faced man known as Don John. You cry and shake your head.
"No, I know, Uncle! But my heart can't help but desire him.." you say, desperately trying to make him understand.
Your uncle sighs and nods in understanding, remembering when he had fell in love with his wife, a similar situation to yours.
"I know, my dear.. but you have to understand, he loves no one, he is a man who only desires one thing.. chaos," your uncle rubs your arms comfortingly.
You let out a shaky breath and let your head fall into your uncle's chest, knowing he was probably right. As you cry into his chest, his hands stroking your hair in comfort, neither of you notice a head peaking around the corner, listening in to your conversation.
Don John leans back on the wall, thinking for a moment before smirking and walking away, a slight bounce in his step. As he passes by the people in the market, they all stare at him, wondering what mischievious plan he would go through with next. With how happy he seemed, he had to be planning something.
And they were right, because the next day, a letter arrived at your uncle's abode, addressed to you. There was a time and a meeting place written on it, and no name.
'Tonight at 8, meet me in the center of the town garden. I'll be waiting.' - It wrote.
Your heart drops to your stomach in both fear and anticipation. You hide the letter from your uncle and go about your day before sneaking out at 8 to meet the mysterious sender.
Your room is on the lower level of the small two storey house, so sneaking out was quite easy, climbing through your window, your night gown nearly dragging on the ground as you run towards the garden bare foot, the cold dirt soft against your feet as the night brings a certain calm and cool.
Once you reach the garden, you stop running and walk through the maze, trying to remember the way to the center of it. You find yourself at a few dead ends before finally making your way to the center of the elaborate hedge maze.
You arrive to see nobody, your brows furrow in confusion and call out, announcing your presence to anyone who may be there.
"Ah.. sweet little (Y/n).. how lovely that you have followed my instructions.." a monotonous voice calls back, coming out from behind a large bush.
His short, black hair shone in the moonlight, along with his deep brown eyes. A smirk played on his bearded lips. It was Don John.
"My Prince.. to what do I owe the pleasure?" You laugh out of nervousness, blushing when you realize you're dressed quite indecently to be in front of a man of such stature, "ah.. forgive me for my indecency.. I came as soon as I could.." you mutter shyly.
Don John lets out a humourless chuckle and walks around you slowly, as if stalking his prey, sizing you up.
"No need to be sorry, sweet flower.. Seeing you like this is quite.. endearing," he smirks.
Your heartbeat quickens, looking anywhere but at him due to fear and embarrassment. You blush and cross your arms, knowing the cool air was most likely revealing your hardened nipples.
"Well? What have you called me for?" You ask, getting flustered and slightly annoyed.
He chuckles once more before coming up behind you, placing his hands on your waist, his lips brushing up against your ear. Chills run down your spine, whether from the wind or his hot breath in your ear, you couldn't tell, but you didn't mind it.
"I heard somewhere that a little lady fancies me.. Is that true, my sweet.. delicate.. flower.." he whispers hotly in your ear, sending a rush of warmth to your lower stomach.
You gulp and blush, unable to deny his words.
"Yes.. it's true.. What of it? It's not like you return those feelings.." you huff out, getting upset at your own thoughts.
"Mm.. and what if I told you those feelings were requited? What would you say? What would you do, little dove?" He nibbles at your ear teasingly.
You gasp and twist your head around so you can see him more out of your peripheral vision. Before you can answer, his lips are devouring yours hungrily, making you squeak and moan in surprise. He groans at your taste, biting your bottom lip sensually, turning you around so the front of your body is fully facing him.
He pulls away and licks your upper lip teasingly before leaning down to whisper in your ear once more.
"You're mine.. You're going to be my sweet princess.." He grins and grips your waist tightly.
What have you gotten yourself into..
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damned-punk · 2 days
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What You Won’t Ever Find (Kidd x Reader)
Part Five
.⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆.
Content Warning: nsfw, modern!AU, suggestive language, unhealthy attachment
Content Description: gn!reader meets Kidd in a bar and their relationship develops from there ♡
.⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆.
You woke much later in the morning than usual, an indication of how drained you’d been from the turbulent night before. You were hesitant to reach for your phone, anxious as to what would be waiting for you. As you considered what seemed to be endless possibilities, your mind wandered to the conversation you’d had with Hip on the way home. In the clarity of a new day, you debated the efficacy of him leading you on and if you really had fallen victim to the wishful thinking that things were any different between the two of you than they’d been with his other partners.
Needing something to break you from the spiraling of your mind, you defaulted to checking your notifications. You weren’t exactly settled on your expectations, but hundreds of missed calls and texts from Kidd wasn’t what you’d imagined at all. It was obvious that many of them were sent while he was still inebriated, the overwhelming majority containing jumbled letters and parts of words with very little coherency. The most recent message was sent only a few hours prior, hoping that you’d made it home safely and that he felt like an ass for how he treated you.
It wasn’t the most refined apology, but it was an apology that was genuine by his standards. Much of your lingering anger had dissipated as you slept and while you didn’t want to relent so easily as his behavior was admittedly ridiculous, you also couldn’t deny the intensifying feeling of need as you thought about his innumerable attempts to contact you through the night. Resolving not to have the much needed discussion over text, you simply replied that you hoped he wasn’t too sick when he woke up. Not even a minute later, your phone buzzed in your hand with an incoming call from Kidd himself.
“Hey… Are you, uh… alright?”, his voice was gravely and sounded incredibly groggy.
“I’m fine.”, you tried to maintain at least a little bit of a chip on your shoulder, “I know that I at least feel better than you do.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty fucked up at the moment but that’s not why I called.”, he replied, carefully considering how he should address the obvious issue at hand, “I was wondering if you’d be alright with me coming over? I was such an asshole last night… We can talk about it or you can beat my ass, whatever’ll make you feel better.”
You did your best to stifle the giggle that broke past your lips. This wasn’t a laughing matter but you couldn’t deny that just talking to him with some semblance of normalcy was cathartic. You’d never experienced something like this before, the dichotomy of him exploding on you only to turn around and be so sweet about his indiscretions was clouding your judgement. He’d disrespected your boundaries and ruined what was supposed to be a fun night out which was cause for a much needed conversation about how something like that can never happen again, but you so desperately wanted to return to how great things were prior to the previous night.
“Alright, that’s fine.”, you replied simply, yearning for him to be at your doorstep already but not yet wanting your affection to be known, “Be careful and I’ll see you when you get here.”
He thanked you, which was admittedly comical, and ended the call to get himself presentable enough to face you. You waited for him very impatiently, an unwanted feeling of remorse creeping through your stomach as you thought over last night’s events for the thousandth time. His sudden change in demeanor was a lot to process and while you knew it was unacceptable, you found yourself making excuses for him. The situation was contextualized much differently after Hip informed you of what had happened with his last partner. You knew that he was interested you to at least some meaningful degree, but he could’ve very well still been struggling with grief.
You practically ran to the door when you heard knocking, pausing yourself for just a moment in an attempt to make it seem like you hadn’t been anticipating his arrival. Swinging the door open, you were greeted by a very fatigued Kidd. He’d brought pizza for the two of you with something wrapped very poorly in packing paper sitting on top of the boxes. His face softened when you greeted him, the sharpness of his golden eyes and the ghastly scars that littered his face were adorned in stark contrast to his expression. He wordlessly kicked off his shoes and placed the food on the small table sat just in front of your couch. When he turned back around, the two of you just looked at each other as he searched for any sign of emotion on your face.
He wasn’t used to this, especially not after having one of his blowups. He’d fully expected to walk into you telling him how much of a fuck up he was and how much better other people treated you. In fact, your calm demeanor was exponentially more anxiety inducing for him as he couldn’t gauge your thoughts or feelings. He was undoubtedly grateful that you’d even replied to him in the first place, but he was still waiting for what he’d resolved to be an inevitable fight. Nothing could’ve prepared him for the moment that you opened your arms to him, motioning your hands inward to signify that you wanted a hug. He was beyond floored and felt something akin to sadness plant an excruciatingly heavy weight in his chest. As his strong arms wrapped themselves around you, you rested your head against him to get as close as possible.
You felt your eyes begin to burn as you settled in his embrace and despite your best attempts to prevent yourself from being unnecessarily emotional, you sobbed against him. He felt even worse now than he did when he’d woken up and fully realized what he’d done, this was not at all what he’d imagined or prepared himself for. He took a few steps back and brought you both down to rest on the couch, feeling his own eyes begin to sting while he did his best to comfort you. Just as quickly as your tears had formed and fell, they subsided and your breathing returned to normal. As much as you relished being against him, you also didn’t want to suffocate him or overburden an already intense meeting. When you released your grip in order to sit up straight, he tightened his hold and peppered kisses to your forehead.
“I’m so sorry, (Y/N). You didn’t deserve that… I don’t even know why the fuck I acted like that.”, he started to explain himself, all the while keeping you pressed against him, “It’s not an excuse… I think I drank too much, too fast. It hit me all at once and it was my own damn fault.”
“I’m sorry too, Kidd. I-“, you started to reciprocate, only to have him shush you.
“Don’t fuckin’ apologize, I’m the dickhead here.”, you couldn’t help but crack a grin at his choice of words, always rough but so characteristic of him, “You can slap me, punch me, whatever you feel like you need to do, I deserve it.”
“I don’t want to slap you and I don’t want to punch you, just hearing you apologize is enough.”, you tilted your head to face him, “Thank you for coming to talk, I was worried I’d never hear from you again after all of that… Let’s just move on from it.”
He stared down at you very intently, perplexed as to why you’d be so quickly forgiving of something so awful. It wasn’t like he wanted you to be upset and he certainly didn’t want to fight, but that was the only way these things had ever gone for him in the past. He wasn’t used to someone being so willingly accepting of his flaws and it was jarring. He sat up after a moment, retrieving the wrapped item that rested on the top of the pizza boxes.
“This is for you.”, he placed the haphazardly packaged item in your hands, “I wanted to do something a little more than just bringing food so I made it for you.”
As you unraveled the crumpled brown paper, a flower welded out of wire, nuts, and bolts slid into your hand. Your heart swelled as you pictured him hunkered over a workbench, sick from partying the night before but wanting to make something that he thought you’d like. You clutched the metal daisy and flung your arms around his neck, spontaneously kissing him on the lips as a way to show how much you loved his gift.
“It’s so cute, I love it so much.”, you praised, the reddening of his ears and cheeks not going unnoticed.
“It’ll never wilt.”, he commented while refusing to meet your eyes, embarrassed at how sappy his little visit had become, “Let’s eat before the food gets cold.”
You retrieved drinks and plates for the two of you, opting to put some music on to fill the silence in the room. As order returned to your relationship, you couldn’t help but compare Kidd’s actions to the warning Hip had given you. If he were really leading you on, why would he have gone as far as to spend time handcrafting you an item out of materials that would’ve otherwise been put to greater use in his work? Kidd sighed in contentment after getting full, pulling you away from the pit of your thoughts.
“I have a hard time dealing with things sometimes.”, he blurted out, slightly surprising you as you thought that part of the conversation was over, “I don’t really know what it is and I’m not trying to make excuses, I just fuckin’ struggle sometimes… I always know when it’s coming and I hate that feeling.”
“I hope that you never have to feel that way again but if you do, maybe you can let me know next time. I’d do anything that I could to help you through it… this might be a little soon and you don’t have to say it back, but I love you.”, you admitted to him, allowing yourself to be vulnerable alongside him, “I don’t ever want something like that to be our end, I think I’d work through just about anything you needed us to.”
“Going all soft on me now, huh?”, he teased, not able to contain the prideful smile on his face as he squeezed you against him, “I love you too, (Y/N)… Thank you for this.”
“Ugh, quit thanking me and rub my back already.”, you teased next, wanting to continue lifting the heavy weight of the afternoon.
“Oh, I see how it is.”, he rolled his eyes while massaging his fingertips into your tense muscles, “You tell me you love me just to have me wrapped around your finger.”
“That’s right.”, you giggled, “So, did Killer have a good time?”
“Hell, he was sicker than I was this morning.”, Kidd laughed a bit, “He had a great time, but I don’t think he remembers much of it.”
As you relaxed underneath Kidd’s hands, head planted on his warm chest, you thought about the intense dissonance that separated your time with him the night prior and your time with him now. You couldn’t wait to wake up in his arms, reveling in his sleepy voice and messy hair. You loved those soft and insignificant moments with him, they might’ve been short lived but they always felt like you were seeing the core of Kidd as a person. Despite your undeniably strong affection for him, Hip’s concerns remained in the background. You fought against them and tried to push them away as the situation seemed to be bettering itself but a small, more logistical part of you begged to remind you of how quickly things could take a turn again.
.⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆.
A/N: Thank you for reading! All characters presented in the story have been caricatured to fit the desired plot devices. Some interactions and situations may read out of character, this is only to progress the story and does not reflect my view of their canon personalities.
.⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆˚。 ☠︎︎ ⋆。˚⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆.
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skiesofrosie · 14 hours
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sometimes, it's hard to be good
pairing: joe liebgott x reader
genre: fluff, conversations about life
a/n: horrendously self-indulgent, but i hope you enjoy.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
“I don’t think I’m a very good person,” you blurt.
“The fuck?” Joe says, confused.
It weighs on your shoulders like a stack of bricks, a truth that sends your mind into a frenzy. Joe noticed it a few days earlier, the way you started to cook, and wash the dishes, despite the half and half system you both have. The letters you sent to check-in on old acquaintances, despite them having never bothered with you. Your choice of books, a sudden affinity for self-help that you shove into your most hidden shelves.
“Are you having a fuckin’ identity crisis or somethin’?” Joe stopped you, just as you were about to take care of both his and your laundry for the third time that week. “Or do I pick up the chores too slowly, ‘cause I can do better.”
“No! No!” You said, a little flustered, then laughed to cover it up. “I’m just doin’ it all ‘cause I care about you.”
He kissed your forehead then, a little unsure. Truth be told, the overcompensation stems from the lack of doing enough–or at least, feeling like it. Joe is your other half, and he picks up well on his half too. If you cook, he will clean. If you do laundry once, he’ll take care of it next (even if he tends to mix the whites and the colors). But the insecurity seeps into your head like poison, the misbelief now running through your blood, and it makes you shoulder more than you actually can.
You slowed down too, because you realized the need to feel like a good person is inherently selfish. To really be good comes from the choices you make, and sometimes, the greater good requires you to be the villain.
Right now though, that’s all mixed up in your head, which means you feel like a piece of shit.
“Where’d ya get that idea?” He asks, now setting Dick Tracy down to pay you full attention. “Is someone tellin’ ya that shit? ‘Cause I’ll kill a–”
“It’s me,” you interject, shaking your head as you slap your book to your chest. “That's what I think.”
Curiosity washes over, as he furrows his eyebrows together and stares at you as if you’re dumb. The both of you are sitting on your balcony, the sun shining streaks of light across his face, and you wonder if you’re worthy of a man as strong and beautiful as him. 
The summer today is glorious, a little sweat trickling down your temples, but better than the way your nose freezes in the winter. Joe and you have made this a routine every Sunday, afternoons spent outside in each other’s company, to catch up on some reading. Your little apartment faces the San Francisco life, and even if the stench of running gas is discomforting, it’s still home. For Joe, it’s homeostasis; a reminder that the war is now behind him, and the domesticity you both have always dreamed of, is now real.
Today though, in the pits of your overthinking, you’re hardly reading the words as you scan the pages.
“Hey,” he gently probes. “What’s goin’ on up there?”
His fingers are creeping towards yours fiddling with each other on your lap.
“I,” you start, but find it difficult to reason. When his hand slips into yours, squeezing it in encouragement, you continue, but not without a sigh. “I found a photo from when we were in high school, and…I realized how many of them I don’t talk to anymore. Friends that have drifted apart, friends that I’ve cut off, or they’ve cut me off. It got me thinking, really thinking, about all the decisions I’ve made, all the people I’ve loved and lost, all the mistakes I’ve made and it all crashed down on me like I hit a brick wall head-on with your cab.”
You stop mid-thought, paying a good look at him listening intently to you, eyes a twinge downcast.
“It made me think that maybe I’m not doing enough, or I’m doing nothing right. That I’ve been selfish, and I have this urge to uproot my entire life and start afresh,” you finish.
He looks into the distance, fingers still entwined with yours as he collates the rush of thoughts. It makes his heart ache to know that you feel this way, because to him, the world owes you for your kindness. But he admires the way you know when it’s time to abandon your good and patience, because it fails to be returned.
“Joe?” He hears you call.
He speaks. “If that’s your logic, than all of us are fuckin’ shitheads.”
You gawk at his response, sputtering, “what do you mean?”
“Sweetheart,” he says, then turns to you unflinchingly. “I spent three years shooting Krauts just ‘cause I could. I did what I was told, convinced myself that I’d be doing the world a favor. Those were actual fuckin’ choices I made, and now I have to live with ‘em in my head.”
“But,” you say, “those people were shooting at you Joe.”
“Not all of ‘em,” he says, shaking his head. “Not all of ‘em.”
A silence falls over you both. It never occurred to you how difficult it is to actually be good–to make the right decision all the time. Even the sun, with its daylight to the skies, streaming into people’s homes to wake them up for another day, blinds you if you look at it for too long. It burns when you get too close, blazes ‘til there’s a drought.
We are all made up of imperfections, after all.
“We fuck up,” Joe adds, quietly. “Hell, we fuck up with each other too, ain’t it?”
“Yeah, I guess,” you smile, “you caused all my whites to go pink last week.”
“Hey,” he lets go of your hand to smack you. “I bought ya your favorite cookies at Betty’s to make up for it!”
You can’t help the laugh that breaks loose of you, despite the heaviness in your chest. In an infinite list, one of the reasons you love him is his ability to pull you out of your own mind, and make you laugh ‘til tears pool in your eyes. 
“Seriously though, we ain’t bad people just ‘cause we fuck up. We’re shitheads if we don’t try to do better,” he says, his hand on your thigh, rubbing his thumb in circles. He throws his other hand up, the comic falling onto the ground. “I try everyday to be a better fuckin’ person, but I slip up. You will too. But at least ya try, you know?”
You know he’s right. Like the chocolate cookies he bought for you to make good on the clothes he ruined; like the moments you apologize to each other in petty fights, and figure out a way to make things better–even if you falter, all there is to it, is taking the next step. So even if you still worry, you can at least do that. And what better than to have Joe Liebgott by your side, a man who will never speak anything less than the truth.
“Baby steps, right?” You nod.
He nods, standing up, walking to you and pulling you to your feet. He slips his arms around your waist, as you cross yours behind his neck, pecking you once, twice, and you’re about to make out with him on your balcony–
‘Til a blaring honk from the road makes you jump apart.
“Fuck!” He yells at the road, and you wince, but with amusement. “I’m tryna get some, okay!”
This time you swat at his shoulder, as he guffaws, starts leaving kisses on your neck. You melt into him.
Baby steps, definitely.
“Oh and sweetheart,” he breathes against your skin, and you hum. “You’re the best fuckin’ person I know on this planet.”
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
@she-wolf09231982 a little snippet of Joe :D
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sorryseraphim · 2 days
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needed release
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I'm just a girl, I need Enver Gortash to eat up my dark Urge, Helene after they asked everybody out of the office.
Read below:
(Also in AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55459897)
"If you just had, the slightest idea how to listen, and not just hear, we wouldn't be dealing with this concern right now!"
No one moved. No one even dared look at Helene's gaze as she looked over plans derailed by an inconvenience made by both her and Enver's people. It was one simple task: deliver a letter to Moonrise for Ketheric Thorm regarding their plan to snatch the Grand Duke, Ulder Ravengard.
Their plans were almost compromised, the stupidity of the persons tasked to deliver manifested during the journey to the gloomy fields of the Shadow Cursed Lands. They almost revealed themselves to a few passing fighters in green and brown. If it weren't for Helene's intuition that misfortune would strike and order a few more people to trail those who are tasked to go ahead, they'd experience unimaginable setbacks.
"You will not lay a finger on them," Enver grumbled, sitting opposite her by the table. He was trying to keep his composure in check, but he was also stressed. Rubbing his left temple as he listened to her outburst, her words getting louder and shrilly as she went on.
"I am a sorcerer, Gortash. I don't need to use my bare hands!"
"Everybody, out!" He finally shouted, his patience wavered, standing up from his seat.
Several nervous glances occurred around the room as Enver's order sank in. When nobody moved, Helene let out another roar.
"Whoever is still in this room after a minute would lose their head!"
In a flash, everyone shuffled out of the small dwelling they were gathered in. Enver walked up to her with long strides, his voice hushed with a hint of anger.
"Are you out of your mind?! Displaying your outburst like some kind of an ungrateful child?"
"Would you rather just have me kill them immediately, without question, without a word?" She fired back, fingers flexing on her side, a clear indication that her anger was at full throttle.
He hissed softly to his side before looking back at her with dark eyes. He rested his hands on her shoulders as he tried to push her down the table, towering over her. "Sit down on the table and relax. Let's talk."
"Let me think, Enver," Helene said, her hand on her right cheek, pinching herself hard enough to leave a reddish mark.
"I said sit down," he insisted, pushing her by the edge of the long table on which various reports and letters were sprawled out. His tone was striking, commanding in a sense that he would not take no for an answer.
She swatted his hand away, shushing him. "What the fuck are you doing? I said let me think!"
"Relax, Helene. I'll take care of it. Let me take care of you," Enver's tone suddenly switched into a whisper. He held her chin in one hand while the other traveled to her size, squeezing her curves gently. It immediately escalated to harsh grabs as it traveled down the dip between her legs, making Helene gasp in response, which Enver had immediately captured using his mouth.
Their lips meet violently, hungry for each other's warmth despite the pressing challenge they have yet to deal with. Just as Helene was deep in the kiss, his hand found its way in from the slits of her skirt, snaking its way between her legs. Enver let out a groan, voice hitching and amused at how wet she already was.
"Let me taste you, Helene... Gods, I want every bit of you for myself," Enver murmured in her mouth before he broke away, pulling a chair in front of her and sitting down. Without missing a beat, he slowly lifted the hem of her dress from her ankles, caressing her legs and kissing her bare knees up to her thighs. His lips touched her skin slowly and full of tenderness as he kept an eye on any signs of aggression she might pose in return for the gesture.
Her body began to melt in his touch, succumbing to the gentleness of his lips. Her nostrils stop flaring, yet her face is still red from anger. Slowly, her breathing shallowed, face softening as she looked down on him as he leisurely trailed his tongue up her thighs towards her tenderness.
She could feel his breath, heavy and feverish, against her skin as he neared her entrance. As if on cue, Helene lifted her entire skirt up to her waist as he started to part her legs, wide enough to push his face in and pleasure her.
He raised her leg up his shoulders to reveal her cunt, which was starting to get soaked as Enver rubbed her legs, his palms rough against her own soft body, the feeling of his hands making her shiver.
"Make it quick..." She breathed heavily, biting her lip as his lips brushed against her folds, her body tingling for the pleasure to come.
"I'll take care of everything; let me just take care of you right now,"
When his tongue made contact with her cunt, it was as if her burden was washed away. The weight of the world lifted from her shoulders as Enver devoured her, savoring every bit she gave him, her soft moans and sighs of bliss.
He pushed the tip of his tongue deeper between her folds, greedily tasting her wetness, as he grabbed her tightly by the waist. He could feel her softly squirming, legs trembling as he increased his pace. Enver could hear the slight hitching on her voice and her attempts to repress her moans as it started to get louder, enough for the whole room to hear.
Helene watched as he lifted his head for a bit, resting a hand on top of her womb as his thumb rubbed her clit, looking up at her as he lapped her entrance. It took everything in her not to whine desperately as another gush of her need rushed out. Helene let out a soft groan as she watched him look up, grinning from between her legs, half of his face drenched in her wetness.
She gripped the edge of the table hard when he went down again, this time desperate and with urgency. "Gods above... Enver, you're driving me mad..."
"Are you close?" He whispered between the act, sucking and lapping her juices as he picked up the pace.
She looked down at him, nodding quickly as she suddenly gripped his hair, tugging it desperately as she neared orgasm.
"Anything for you, my dearest," Enver whispered finally as he began rubbing her clit with haste as his tongue traveled the entire length of her folds.
She could feel it coming, about to burst and wash her body with ecstasy when they heard a knock on the door, followed by a soft rustling of the door knob.
In an instant, Enver stood up, hands off her body as Helene followed and straightened her stance, making sure her skirt was not bundled up her waist.
He took a few steps away from her, turning around momentarily to wipe his face off Helene's wetness as she shouted towards the door. "I did not ask anyone to come back yet!"
"But Priestess, we received word just now. Lady Orin has delivered urgent news."
"For fuck's sake..." She whispered, sighing, "Come in, and let us hear it,"
As their subordinates started to pour in, Enver noticed how her hands twitched on her side, making him smirk. She was subtlety displaying her frustration, an itch to murder someone who dared interrupt them just before she was about to reach orgasm.
He moved around the room, back to where she stood, and whispered, pointing out her fidgety hands to murder, to keep her cool and let patience take over as they discussed news brought by her blood kin.
"I am well," She hushed in return, "But whoever that is that interrupted us would lose their tongue in the morning. I'll take care of it."
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lyrichi · 3 months
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mc, randomly at dinner: how do y'all feel about demon slayer
luci: demon what?
mc, taking a bite of rice: slayer
asmo: slay
levi: I wanna be a demon slayer :(
satan: levi, you are a demon
levi: owee :((
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