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#i really hope this is at least KIND of helpful...
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Like an animal | Bucky Barnes
Pairing -> Avengers!Bucky Barnes x Avengers!Fem!Reader
Summary -> When you don’t want to hear when Bucky says something and you get hit by sex pollen he makes sure you know that you should listen to Bucky when he says something.
Wordcount -> 2.371
Warnings -> (E) 18+, Minors DNI, smut, sex pollen, slight thigh riding, oral (fem!receiving), unprotected p in v, rough sex, hate sex, using of the word slut
Request -> Heyyy. I saw your Bucky smut menu and I couldn’t resist lol. Could you do 1. Either enemies to lover or sex pollen (maybe both idk im not picky) 2. Protective Bucky (I wouldn’t oppose to him being slightly jealous too lmao) 3. Oral f receiving and hate sex. And for the petnames I cannot stand anything like pet, kitten, bunny, puppy. No shame to ppl who like them, im just more simple. I'm fine with stuff like babe/baby, doll, honey, sweetheart. I hope this wasn’t too picky lol😭❤️🤞🏾 @blckbarbiedoll
A/N -> Thank you so much for the request. I hope you like it. I tried to include everything you asked for so yeah just read and decide if you like it or not I guess haha. Divider made by @firefly-graphics.
Events -> Bucky Barnes Smut Menu
Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist
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Bucky groans when you just hit the Hydra Agent before he runs away and you follow him. The brown-haired man told your brother he would take care of you, but you’re always so stubborn around him and need to prove that you can do things on your own. Of course he knows, but being the protective man he usually is, he is even stronger when he is with you. Not only because of your brother, who is also his best friend, but also because he likes you. Way more than he admits, he really likes you since the day you started to work together, and the two are always around each other. But a part of him hates you for being so stubborn; at least he hates you in a way that he wants to fuck your attitude out of you and teach you some manners.
He tried to convince you to help, but you were just shaking your head and pushed him away before you punched the other agent. Bucky was standing there, rolling his eyes, but he knows he shouldn’t make you angry; otherwise, he would get some punches as well.
When you run after the agent, he follows you with a groan. Looking around the corner to be sure there is no other agent. When Bucky walks around the corner, the floor is empty, and he can only hear some shouts and some noises, which tell him that you’re beating the guy up.
Meanwhile, you’re in a room with the agent; he just ran into it, and in your headspace of wanting to punch him, you follow him. You don’t really look around you; you’re not noticing the suspicious things around you. The only thing you’re focused on is the Hydra agent opposite you.
“You’re such a naive little girl, aren’t you?”
“Shut up. You don’t know me, and a little girl couldn’t punch you like that,” you shout and walk closer while you lift your hand.
He laughs darkly, waiting until you’re just a few steps away. Then he pushes a button, and a loud noise echoes through the room. You immediately cover your ears with your hands, trying to make the noise quieter. The agent pushes you to the side; you fall and crash against a table before you fall to the ground and make yourself smaller. You press your legs to your chest, your head resting on your knees, while you see the man pushing another button. Then he leaves the room, the noise gets quieter, and you inhale loudly, relaxing your body while there is a complete silence in the room.
You slowly sit up, looking around, but the Hydra agent isn’t in the room anymore. The doors are closed, and you inspect the things around you. There are a lot of containers, big containers. They are filled with some kind of colorful gas, and you wonder what kind of experiments they are doing there.
“Y/N? Are you there?” Bucky shouts from outside the room, trying to open the door.
“Bucky, did you catch him?”
“No?”
“Then do it!” you shout annoyedly back and roll your eyes.
“No! We need to get you out of that lab; there are chemicals.”
You sigh, annoyed. Bucky crashes with his shoulder against the door. While you hear him groaning, you stand up and walk over to one of the containers.
“BUCKY!”
“What? I try to open the door, oke!”
“Yeah, hurry up. It-It’s cooking,” you shout back, taking a step back when the liquid connects itself with the gas.
“What?”
Before you can answer, it bangs, and a big cloud of liquid and gas is over the container, slowly getting bigger like the fog during a rainy and cold morning.
“What the fuck are you doing there?” Bucky asks, and you laugh sarcastically.
“I didn’t do anything. Here are some liquids and gases, and it just- I don’t know. It’s green! Is that normal? Is it supposed to be green?”
“I don’t know. I’m not Bruce.”
“Bucky! James! When he is green, it’s not good, so get me out of that room.”
The fog coats the room, and even when you try not to inhale it, you feel it slowly rushing through your veins, and everything starts to tingle. You feel like you get needy in a way you never were before, and you feel your pants dripping, soaking your panties immediately. You moan softly, your hand slides between your legs, and you shiver at the touch of your fingers. You rub the fabric of your panties and pants against your wet folds, feeling a bit of relief when you move faster against your fingers. A moment later, the door crashes, and you remove your hand. With wide eyes, you look at Bucky, who just broke the door and is looking around.
“Get out of there, doll,” he demands, holding his hand out for you to grab it.
“B-Bucky. I-“
He makes you shut up when he holds your hand and pulls you against him. His firm, muscular chest presses against you, and you groan softly. His leg is pressed against your cunt, and you start to grind yourself against it, making Bucky look at you with furrowed eyebrows.
“What do you think you’re doing there?”
“Please, those- Bucky- Sex pollen,” you mumble, your head falling against his chest while you move your hips slowly against his thigh.
He gasps, his hands immediately around your waist to push you back slightly. Your head falls back, and your eyes are filled with pure desire and lust when you look at him. You bit onto your lip, trying to push your hips against him, feeling the friction you had when you moved against his leg, but he holds you still.
“Please, Bucky.”
“You should learn some manners, shouldn’t you? Running after a Hydra agent and being in one room with him. He could have done filthy things to you. Do you like that? Do you like being used by a man?” Bucky groans; his eyes darken when he feels his dick harden in his pants.
As much as he hates the thought of you being used as a fuck toy by someone else, he loves the thought of using you as his own little doll. Where he can let out his jealousy and his frustration that you just can’t listen during missions and that you always talk back.
“Answer me!" his tone is rough, his fingers digging into your waist, and you moan softly.
“Yes.”
Bucky groans and leans closer to you. Then he presses his lips onto yours and pulls you closer, his hard dick pressing against your stomach, and you whimper. His hands roam over your body, finding their way up your sides, squeezing your breasts through the fabric of your shirt and bra before he slides them back down and lifts you up. You wrap your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck, and your lips never leave his while he carries you to the next counter he can find.
With one movement, he shoves everything off the surface and places you on top of it. He takes a step back, still spreading your legs apart while his hands glide along your thighs. Bucky grips the waistband of your pants, tugging at them. You move your body up to help him so he can take off your pants and panties. And he does; he shoves both down your legs and smirks when he sees your already dripping pussy. You moan; the cold air hitting your wetness makes you even more desperate, and you want to move a hand between your folds, but Bucky stops you, gripping your hand and pushing it away.
“Don’t dare to touch yourself. You need to learn manners, and I will teach you them.”
Bucky gets on his knees in front of you, his hands sliding along your thighs before he grips them and holds them apart. Then he kisses a trail along your stomach until he reaches your pussy. His tongue slides through your folds softly, and the warmth of it lets you shiver. Bucky lets go, smiling when he sees your hands gripping the surface to ground yourself.
“Good girl,” he praises.
With a short kiss on your stomach, he guides his tongue back to your folds, sucking softly at your clit and circling it with his tongue before he lowers his movements to your entrance. Your moans and whimpers encourage him to continue to give you the pleasure you want him to give you with his tongue.
“Don’t cum before I allow you to cum.”
You nod, and he raises an eyebrow, looking at you. His hot breath against your wet pussy, coated in your arousal and his saliva. Bucky works his tongue slowly inside of you, taking his time while you push yourself more against him, trying to get more of his tongue. More of him inside of you.
“Bucky-“
“I teach you manners. So we go by my pace,” he explains, kissing your clit.
“You’re a tease, aren’t you, Barnes?”
“Such a big mouth for such a little girl, huh?”
He nibbles softly at your clit, sliding his tongue through your folds again before he kisses every inch of your private part. Bucky loves the way you whimper to get more of the pleasure he gives you. He brings you close to your orgasm, but whenever you want to cum, he just kisses your skin softly. He just needs to push his tongue inside of you, and you are almost over the edge, your walls clenching around him, and he imagines his dick inside your wet, warm hole. The way you’re going to squeeze it when you cum and the way you will moan his name when he thrusts his dick deep inside of you.
Bucky gets up, making you whine. He smirks, his hands still sliding over your thighs before he removes them. You want to protest, but you don’t when you hear him unbuckling his belt before he pushes his pants and boxers down. His hard cock springs free, the tip leaking with pre-cum. He is huge, and you smirk softly when you see the veins running along his shaft. Bucky grabs his cock, stroking it a few times while he rubs his thumb over his tip and smears the pre-cum all over his dick. Then he slaps his dick against your clit, making you gasp.
“You’re so needy,” he says, his cock resting between your wet folds.
Then he likes his dick up with his entrance and pushes himself inch by inch inside of you. He stretches you open like no one ever did before, and your walls are already squeezing his dick. Bucky tries his best not to cum immediately; the warmth and tightness of your pussy make him go crazy. He pushes himself inside of you completely. You moan loudly, your hands find their way to his shoulder, and you grip them. Then you pull him closer, and Bucky breaks the distance between your lips, kissing you roughly while he gives you a moment to adjust to his dick.
Bucky pulls out of you, thrusting inside of you even harder. He is rough, fucking your attitude out of you and the way you talk back. He slams his dick inside of you, forcing it completely between your tight walls. You almost scream at the harshness of his thrusts, his balls slapping against your ass while he fucks you like a wild animal. But the two of you need it - the roughness, the slight pain inside of you, which turns slowly into pleasure. A kind of pleasure you never felt before, one only he can give you while he fucks you like a slut, a toy that just wants to be used by Bucky.
“I hate your fucking attitude,” he says, pulling out to slam his dick harder inside of you.
You scream, your fingers digging into the skin of his back. Your back arches, and you move against him, wanting him deeper.
“I hate the way you always need to talk back.”
He uses his metal hand to grip your throat. Bucky just holds his hand there; he doesn’t squeeze your neck.
“Fucking. Little. Slut,” he groans between his thrusts.
“Bucky- I’m-“
“Shhh. But even when you annoy me with that, I love you, doll,” he admits while he fucks you like an animal.
You throw your head back, overwhelmed by the pleasure he gives you. You feel every vein of his cock; he hits your sweet spot whenever he thrusts inside of you.
“I wanna cum, please. I- Bucky, I love you too. Can I cum? Please?”
He chuckles, bringing his other hand to your clit and rubbing circles on it. At the same harsh pace, he pushes his high lengths inside of you.
“Cum, doll. All over my dick.”
And you do as he tells you. While you scream his name in pleasure, you feel the know in your stomach snapping, and you cum all over his dick. Bucky watches in awe at you while you cum, then he looks down where his dick is connected with you. His cock is covered in your cum, and he groans. When you squeeze him even more, he doesn’t need long until he cums inside of you, painting your walls with his seeds while he slows his movements. You both breathe heavily, your bodies covered in sweat, and Bucky lets himself fall down on top of you. Your hands slide from his shoulders into his soft brown hair, and you play with them.
“Do you mean that, doll?”
“What?”
“That you love me too.”
“Yeah, I love you, Buck.”
He smiles, leaning closer to kiss you softly. His plumb lips perfectly fit against yours.
“Let’s clean us, and then we go back to the compound. I will make sweet love to you there. How does it sound? And then a movie night.”
“But I decide the movie,” you say.
The two of you laugh before he kisses you again and slowly pulls out of you. Bucky helps you to clean yourself before he cleans himself between a lot more kisses.
┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓
𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨
𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬
┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛
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Taglist: @sergeantbarnessdoll @kandis-mom @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry
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presleyanswrites · 3 days
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Hey I got a request for jj
That jj is a single dad to a baby girl and he is to scared to hold because he will think he will drop her and John b everyday will try and get jj to hold her then one day jj was holding her on his chest then he takes her everywhere With him hope that make sense
Koala Care
dad!jj x fem!reader x daughter
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a/n ahh this is so cutie! thank you for the request anon, love you bunches!
desc JJ holds his baby girl for the first time
wc 1.2k
warnings cursing, grammar, fluff
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"Peaches?" JJ comes in through the back door of the chateau, carefully shutting it behind him as he walks through the kitchen to set down a box full of baby supplies.
The usual. Diapers, baby food, her favorite yogurt melts, more of his old band & surf t-shirts to wrap her up in.
He notices Aria crying her eyes out behind him in between the white rails of her bed. he must have forgotten to change her when he left. He also noticed it was pissing off John B who was trying to work on something probably useless and he caught the hint that he's been listening to her cry for at least an hour.
"Shit," he mutters, messing with his backwards hat as he turns his attention away from Aria for a split second to glance at John B. Turns out he was fixing a cooler for the boat.
"Bro." he goes over to him, kicking him in the leg slightly, "You seen Y/n? I really need her help knowing what measurements of tit milk I'm supposed to feed mini me."
John B rolls his eyes to the ceiling as he screws in the side of the cooler handle.
"First of all," he says through a gritted tone from a bolt in between his teeth.
"You gotta stop with the teenage boy, language wording shit."
He spits out the bolt and screws another nail into the bottom.
"You're like a dad now. Its your dick and your daughter, buddy. You really want your kid to go around saying, tit milk?"
JJ tuts. "Bro she cant even talk yet. Plus, I don't remember half the shit i said as a fucking baby. Maybe thats cause my dad probably beat the shit out of me where I like- lost half my cells, but i ain't changing. Plus, daddy will raise her to be the best hooker of man kind. Shes a Pogue, shes not gonna be a goody two shoes if my life depends on it."
John B turns his head around and gives him a look.
"Jesus Christ JJ, did anything click when your girlfriend popped a living thing out of her ass?" He purses his lips.
JJ points his lips downwards and shrugs.
"Or are you always gonna be known as the dad who raised a stripper?" John B rolls his eyes again, taking a weird clear plate out of his box, "Y/n is a doctor for fucks sake, she's the only hope for raising her I swear to God."
John B shakes his head, "I've told you everyday now. You haven't even held her yet."
JJ grips his hat, "Thats because im gonna drop the kid!"
John b slaps his forehead.
"You're litterally her DAD, JJ! Y/n popped a baby out of her kitty sack and you seriously didnt even touch her the day she was born." John B raises his eyebrows. "Do you remember that? Y/n cried in Kie's room FOR AN HOUR thinking you didnt want the kid!"
JJ opens his mouth to respond then stops.
"Whatever. Go back to fixing your cold box and shit," He turns his back to walk away.
John B changes the tip on his screwdriver, "You're gonna have to hold your own ass daughter eventually, dude."
"I hope you screw a nail in your dick!" JJ calls out and tuts again, mumbling under his breath, "teaching me how to handle my own kid..."
"im the one fixing this goddamn cooler so you can drink your shit ass blue moon chilled!" John b yells back, JJ opening the door and slamming it shut to try and find you again.
"y/nnnn," he groans, calling out your name, finding you sitting on the steps outside.
He kneels down and wraps his big arms around you, kissing the side of your head gently.
"Hi baby," he mutters, "How was work?"
you felt your head pulsating before forcing yourself to give a response.
"Hmmm fine. it was busy."
"Yeah?" he strokes your head, "Real quick."
You sigh slightly, "Hmm?"
"how much ti-" He stops, and clears his throat.
"How much milk do I need to feed Ari?" He says in a soft voice, knowing you had a blaring headache from your shift.
You exhale, leaning your arms on your knees.
"theres about 7 oz in the fridge."
He nods, "thank you sweets," he kisses your hair one last time before leaving you in peace to rest your mind.
He goes back inside the chateau, opening the fridge and taking out the bottle, reaching over Aria's crib and putting the tip to her mouth.
"there we are, sweet girl.." he holds the back of her head while she drinks gently, her cries settling down.
After Aria is finished, he stares at her for a moment.
Why was it so hard for him to hold his own daughter? He feels a wave of guilt floods over his spine.
He reaches his hands out, then stops.
"God damnit," He sighs.
"Okay." He stares at Aria one more time. "3, 2.."
"Fuck this."
He picks Aria up gently in his arms, his heart jumping as he does so.
"Holy shit," he breathes. "Oh my God."
He holds her to his chest, making sure to support her back, something he learned in a parenting book he found online as he feels his soul melt in his stomach.
"There we go," he coos softly, rocking her up and down gently.
"Hi love." he holds her up to look in her eyes with the biggest grin on his face.
"You have your mommas eyes, don't you?"
It's like he fell in love with you all over again. Just this time, it was a baby. And it was his baby.
He holds her to him again, hearing you opening the screen door to come back inside the chateau as he looks at you with the stupidest smile on his face.
"JJ.." you breathe, a grin full of your white perfect teeth filling the room as you jog over to him.
You rub his arm gently as you stare at Aria in JJ's arms.
"im so glad." You said, tears slightly filling the bottom of your eyes as your breath catches in your throat.
"She has your eyes," He repeats the observation he made earlier.
You nod with a sniffle, chuckling slightly.
"She has your lips."
JJ presses another soft kiss into the side of your neck.
A few days later, you noticed that JJ dorkily bought one of those baby carrier things to attach to your chest, and you had to admit it was pretty cute seeing Aria giggle with him, taking her everywhere he went.
John B was relieved her finally built up the balls to hold his kid, and if you were honest, you were relieved too.
Kiara bullied him everyday for taking Aria with him everywhere because the baby holder he chose was literally hot pink. Really hot pink.
He was so happy everyday. To be the dad that he never had. The one he had prayed and wished for everyday as a kid.
JJ was such a tough guy, tough face, tough love, tough soul.
but I guess not when it came to you and Aria. You and her were his new world and there was nothing in the entire universe that could take that away from him.
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☆ divider & gif credits to @viixcyre @baby-bearie
my navigation ♡
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deathbxnny · 16 hours
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helloo, platonic ratio, aventurine and sunday with a teen!reader like mafuyu asahina?
Hello Anon! Thank you for the great request, and I'll hope you'll like this!!<33
Content: Reader is a teen, platonic relationships, mentions of potential suicidal thoughts, fluff, older brother figures hsr men, sfw
Reader has no set pronouns!
((Not proofread))
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》DR. RATIO
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When he first took you under his wing as a student, he was pleased with your work ethic and especially your grades. You studied all the time, excelling in everything and any subject. But despite all of these great achievements, he still noticed a certain... emptiness to you.
It started out with him noting that you never did anything else BUT studying, which he didn't think was healthy either. After digging deeper, he found out that you once had a love for music that was stomped out by your previous caretakers. And that alone made him immideatly realise many concerning things about you that needed to be helped.
He tried his best to handle the situation with the care it needed and slowly ease you into a feeling of safety for your passions around him. He'll slowly get you back into the art of music after he got you professional help, too, by asking you to sing/play him songs whilst he worked.
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》AVENTURINE
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Aventurine immideatly noticed something off about you, when he took you under his wing as a little assistant. You were kind, generous and helpful on the surface, but he could feel the darkness festering under it anyways. You were good at hiding the pain, yet he knew better than to think that you could keep it up forever.
He saw a part of himself in you, when he found out that the darkness had eventually turned into a need to end it all. He understood and related, which is why he wanted to save you, if he couldn't save himself. He knew about your passions and how you had to give them up when coming to the IPC and so he decided to simply make you return to what you once were.
He took you to musicals, operas, live shows, theaters, and anything else that could potentially feature music. Aventurine somehow also figured out what instrument you used to love playing and bought you the most expensive one he could get his hands on, on top of tutoring lessons if you needed them to get back into it. He was hellbent into turning you back into you once were, before he finally says goodbye to the world himself.
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》SUNDAY
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Hiding any form of emotions from Sunday was absolutely impossible, something he made very clear from the beginning. He noticed the way your eyes lost their light whenever no one was around, the way you'd always give everyone painfully empty smiles. But he didn't confront you on it. Not at first, at least.
He observed you for a while instead, never really letting you out of his line of sight as he began watching the way you began dipping lower and lower mentally, the more you lost your passion for anything. When he noticed you giving up your love for music too, he decided to finally confront you. He tried to be gentle and soft-spoken, even using his abilities if he had to, to find the root of the issue.
Once he gets you the help you need, he'll make it his personal mission to also help you feel better around the estate. He'll have your favorite music playing often, make plays for you to sing in, and also ask Robin to rekindle your love for your passions. He hopes that with enough patience and care, you'll be okay again and finally live out your life like a young teen should.
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Okay, I hope this was alright for you, Anon, and thank you again for your request!!<33
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bonefall · 1 day
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Mapleshade Discourse O'Clock
It's that time again!!! SO I just kinda want to jot down all of my various thoughts about it as a story and just generally weigh in about Mapleshade.
I like the idea of Mapleshade more than the actual Mapleshade that is used throughout the books.
She has a really good gimmick-- to haunt Applekin though the generations. I don't like how they turn her into a generic "cat satan" for Tigerclaw's Fury and keep making her appear as a vain lackey demon.
I like her characterization in Mapleshade's Vengeance the most, of all her appearances.
But, I don't think my reading of the character depicted in MV is what the author intended.
See, I like MV as a story with no hero. The only blameless characters are the kittens who drowned and Perchpaw, while everyone else is some flavor of selfish, cruel, or vengeful. Everyone thinks they're in the right, but no one truly wins in the end.
Nothing about it was noble. Every tragedy that happened was utterly avoidable. In the end, everyone bears some responsibility for the pain and suffering that happened the day those children drowned.
BUT I'm pretty certain that the intended reading was that Mapleshade would be the one clearly in the wrong the whole time, as she justifies her own actions like a villain does.
Especially knowing how poorly the writers thought of similar female characters like Squilf and Leafp lying about the three, or Nightcloud being jealous her crummy husband is acting strange around another woman.
I feel justified in assuming that when Mapleshade is not happy she's being cheated on, or when she refuses to correct Frecklewish's record knowing it's unsafe if her kits are revealed as half clan, the writer really does think you're not supposed to take her side.
Because women should just not have emotions about being cheated on or something, and lying is unspeakably bad even if the truth puts you and your children in danger.
But. Y'know. We can all use the braincell for a moment and see that this is fucking stupid
SO when the book goes on to have Mapleshade ignore all the warnings about the swollen river, show both ThunderClan and RiverClan being obscenely cruel to her, and then walk across that bridge while insisting in her head that the deaths weren't her fault, I think the implication is obvious AND SHITTY.
Ergo I reject it completely. I can see what the book wants to say, and I think it says something trashy.
In spite of how badly the writer wants it to be Mapleshade's fault the kittens died, I say it was the asshole who threw a bunch of kittens out into the rain for being mixed race, actually.
Oakstar had the power here. Ravenwing had some power as well, but he makes it clear it wasn't his suggestion to throw the babies out into the woods.
And when it comes to Bridge Discourse, it was at least the afternoon, raining heavily, and Mapleshade was trying to get to RiverClan Camp. A straight shot across the stepping stones.
I think it is ridiculous to imagine an extremely emotional parent managing three very scared children, attempting to get out of the rain and dangerous wilderness before nightfall, would be rational enough to realize a large detour would be safer.
MAYBE the distance from ThunderClan Camp to the Bridge is equal to the distance to the Stones. But the distance between the bridge and RIVERCLAN Camp is longer.
I hope this goes without saying; but Frecklewish didn't deserve the Dark Forest.
Even in Banana World logic where she was sitting on the bank watching those kids doggy-paddle. Do not fucking jump in to save drowning people if you are not trained to do that.
I'm dead serious, this is the first thing you learn in any kind of water safety course. They WILL panic, you WILL get dragged down, you WILL become another liability someone else has to save instead of helping your initial target.
And that isn't even mentioning this being a flooded river. That's POOL safety.
In spite of how I think Mapleshade was right to lie, I do think Frecklewish being that upset and angry was understandable.
You're entitled to your feelings, but not how you treat people. She still attacked Mapleshade and called the kittens a slur.
That's what makes her interesting, though.
I don't think she deserves the Dark Forest, but Frecklewish's anger is an interesting trait. I don't like how a lot of defensive interpretations of her character end up downplaying how she acted at the exile
why does a woman being rightfully angry suddenly strike people as "unsympathetic." Girls can also say things in fury they don't fully mean. OR girls can rationalize their unjustified, ballistic response post-hoc out of pride.
Idk let girls be mad. Admit they were wrong without deserving HELL. I don't like the woobification impulse.
It's not really a hot take anymore I think, but Frecklewish is definitely only in the DF because the writing team judges women characters more harshly. Oakstar threw babies out in the rain in fury, and Ravenwing didn't stop it. But somehow only Frecklewish, a normal warrior, gets DF'd.
But what really rattles around in my head about the whole story is the way that the in-universe culture is able to suddenly value ethics like peace, forgiveness, and tolerance when MAPLESHADE is ready to throw those things out, but BEFORE then, it's well established that Clan culture is violent, vengeful, and intolerant.
One of our earliest scenes is Rainfall snarling at Mapleshade that he loves the way Birchface and Flowerpaw drowned. He's threatening that he'll kill even more ThunderClan warriors.
Over in ThunderClan, everyone is itching for revenge against Appledusk for those deaths, even though it seems to have been an accident. Oakstar even hates RiverClan well into sequel books for this.
But then later on, everyone acts Shocked Pikachu that Mapleshade actually went and GOT revenge.
And like, let's be real. This is a battle culture. Yes, by OUR standards Revenge Is Bad.
But in these books, so full of war and clan conflict...?
What I'm saying is that I wish the books let Mapleshade be a little more "controversial" in-universe. Like some cats actually frame the story very differently, and you can learn a lot about a person by who they think the hero is.
And how RiverClan responds to the drowned kids bugs me a lot tbh
We just established over in ThunderClan that there are people who think the babies were born filthy for being HalfClan.
We know everyone there stood by and watched as Oakstar threw them out into the rain-- only Ravenwing even seemed uncomfortable.
AND we know very well that in a few generations, TigerClan will rise. Which openly executed a HalfClan cat and wanted to kill 2 apprentices.
We KNOW the bigotry in Clan culture is deadly and unfair.
But then they go over to RiverClan and Darkstar is sad these three kids are dead? And RC is furious with Mapleshade for that?
Again, YES, you and me with OUR morals know that this bigotry is insane and spiteful. What I'm getting at is that IN-UNIVERSE half clan kittens and their parents face extreme discrimination. Even within this book.
It's odd to me that Darkstar refuses to let Mapleshade bury their bodies, sends her away for the death of the kids while saying it's "not the season for losing warriors" to Appledusk, and it's meant to come across as delusional that Maple thinks her babies were buried dishonorably
I wish more women in WC got so pissed off at the absolute injustice of it all that they went on a girl rampage. Perhaps it's my own taste, but I like it a lot more when the villain isn't entirely wrong and there's several angles you can read the story from. If she didn't do what she did, she would have been the only one who saw any consequences for anything that happened.
Anyway in conclusion uhhh idk murder is wrong. But Mapleshade's allowed to do it because she's a silly billy. Her greatest crime was not killing Oakstar also
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tsukimefuku · 16 hours
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wardrobe malfunction ❖ nanami kento
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summary: your cursed technique isn't exactly clothing-friendly, and when you find yourself in a less than ideal situation, you only had one person you could ask for help.
tags: jujutsu kaisen, f!reader, light nanami x reader, cursing, kind of suggestive but not exactly (?), second hand embarrassment is real, this is just pure crack to be honest, is reader lucky or unlucky? i fret, for i do not know, this is barely proofread because i wrote this absolute nonsense on a complete whim, i hope you have as much fun reading this as i did writing it.
wc: 1k
❖ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist for fics listed in chronological order of events
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You had just finished blowing up a grade 2 curse that lunged at you full-speed. Your chest heaved up and down with tiny droplets of sweat coming down, as you panted inside the abandoned apartment complex. For a while, the adrenaline pumping through your veins made it hard to assess your state, but then, as you began decelerating and looked at your body, you realized something.
“Oh, no. Not again.” 
Considering your innate cursed technique involved casting small bombs of cursed energy, they could blow up through many things, and when you didn’t manage to distance yourself from them before the impact… Well, safe to say that some things were bound to happen.
You pulled your phone ready to call… someone. Anyone, really. But the ancient piece of technology that you failed to replace in these past few weeks wouldn’t let you access your contacts list, providing you solely with your three last dialed numbers — Gojo, Yaga and Nanami.
Your fucking phone. Your damn, fucking phone.
Just thinking about this had you beyond mortified, but it was either this, or never leaving the building again. So you took a deep breath before pressing dial.
***
Nanami found Shoko to take care of some minor injuries on his arm, and as she was finished, his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket, and saw your name flashing on the screen.
As he answered, you stuttered for a moment before mustering up the courage to speak.
“So, Nanami, I need, uh, some assistance.” 
He found that to be odd, considering you knew he was on another mission today, and this was a solo endeavor for you.
“Has something happened?”
“So, you know how my technique works, right?”
That question had the sorcerer feeling somewhat puzzled, given he had seen you use it — and explain it — multiple times already.
“Of course, we've been on missions together, and you have explained it to me more than once.”
You sighed before proceeding. “So, here's the thing, I kind of blew myself up.” 
That quickly got his attention and he tensed up. Shoko had just finished removing her gloves and noticed it.
“Are you injured?” His usually impassive voice had a hint of worry to it.
“No, no. I'm fine. Sometimes this kind of happens, and I'm pretty used to blocking the impact and using RCT if needed.” 
Is it her? Is she okay? She better be, I need her tomorrow, Shoko whispered at Nanami as she walked around and sat on a bench in front of him.
He didn’t notice what she asked, as he was humming confusedly, given you still hadn’t clarified why you called.
Your voice kind of cracked up for a moment, as you violently blushed on the other side. At least, the phone is an imageless form of communication.
“So, I’m okay. But my clothes, they, uh… I blew them up.”
He slowly began taking in what exactly you were saying.
“That's it, that’s what happened. I… I need clothes, please. Can you bring me some, just so I can get out of here without getting arrested for public indecency?”
Nanami kept silent for some time, and felt a slight rush of heat run over his cheeks.
“Nanami?” 
He coughed slightly, tensing his posture as he did.
“Yes, of course. But wouldn't you rather someone else to do that for you, like Ms. Nitta, or one of the female students?” 
That caught Shoko’s attention, and she discreetly looked at the sorcerer while he was still on the phone with you.
You nearly gagged.
“No! No way. I… I'm mortified as is.”
Somebody please fucking kill me.
“I can't talk about this with anyone else. It's too damn embarrassing,”  you stated, letting your mind go to random facts in order to try lifting the mood. “I now understand why that student from Kyoto keeps taking his shirt off to fight, but that's beside the point.”
You were met at the wake of your failed joke.
“I-I mean… Just bring me something, please.” 
Nanami cleared his throat as he pulled on his tie and opened his shirt’s top button.
“Fine. Send me your location.”
You sighed, relieved.
“Great, you're the best, thank you!”
He switched his phone off and grounded himself for a moment.
“Is she alright?” 
“Yes, she is,” he answered, some words choking on their way up for a second. “Ms. Ieiri, do you happen to have any clothes around here?” 
“What? Why would you need that?”
He couldn’t muster up anything remotely feasible to say, and given that embarrassment is an infectious condition, it began creeping up on him, too.
Nanami resumed speaking. “… I'm sorry to bother you. I just remembered I can get an assistant's uniform.” 
He then walked towards the door to leave.
“Nanami…” Shoko began.
“Hm?” He asked, as turning around.
“… Are you blushing?”
“... Good afternoon,” he answered, before stepping out a little quicker than usual.
***
Nanami had just arrived, and you let him know you were upstairs. As he asked how you wanted to receive the clothes, you were insistent that he threw the bag over the steps, and being a reasonable and rational person, the sorcerer obviously declined to do that.
“Just throw the thing already!” you yelled from the top of the stairs, away from his sight.
“I’m not uncivilized,” he replied, sighing. “I’m going to put them down here, and wait for you outside.”  
Nanami was considerably less mortified than you would expect, but it was him, Mr. mature, after all. Also, this wasn’t the first embarrassing situation of yours that he had witnessed.
You were prone to setting yourself up for absurd shenanigans, it seemed.
As you heard him leave and close the door, you stepped your way down and flimsily put the black pants and white buttoned shirt, which didn’t match at all with the hiking boots you usually wore on missions.
You went outside, and were met by him, his usual impassiveness slightly disturbed by something you couldn’t quite yet identify.
“Thank you, Nanami,” you stated, sighing relieved.
“It’s no trouble,” he answered, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. 
You were both uncomfortably silent for a while.
“These kinds of unexpected things happ-”
“We will never talk about this again as long as I live, please, I can’t cope” you pleaded, voice simmering with desperation for this awkward moment to be over, “just, please.” 
He cleared his throat, mindlessly adjusting his tie around his neck. It strangely felt more tight than usual.
“Of course. I apologize.”
“No need. It’s fine. Let’s just go back to Jujutsu High and pretend this never happened.”
“I do not know what you’re talking about,” he said, sparing you a quick glance.
You smiled, amused and thankful.
“Right. Precisely.” 
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ashleyisartsy · 2 hours
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Problems (objective and personal) I'm not seeing discussed a lot w this new WatcherTV thing, in no particular order:
-Alienates people internationally who literally CANNOT GET the streaming service!
-Alienates casual fans who don't watch or want to watch all of their shows. Putting down 60 bucks a year to watch just one or two shows is kind of insane, at least for me.
-The volume of content Watcher has produced historically hasn't been enough to justify a separate streamer. I understand there's no way a small team could compete with something like Netflix, obviously, but that's what you're trying to do by putting yourself in the streamer market.
-Will this streamer be secure? What steps are in place to protect your viewers info? ESPECIALLY payment info.
-Will it be easily watchable on multiple devices? I watch YouTube videos on my phone at work 90% of the time, or at home on my TV thru my switch. Is this a browser only deal?
-What are the internet requirements for this? Believe it or not most streaming services won't run on my internet personally. I don't have any for that reason. I can watch YouTube on 360p, or on my 2-bar-reception phone data. Not everywhere has stable reliable internet.
-The suddenness and totality of the move was going to be jarring no matter what, if the idea had been introduced gradually or started as a hybrid model to test audience interest there wouldn't be nearly this amount of pushback.
-I understand the people saying "pay artists!!" Bc I am one, and I get that their quality is expensive and they have a whole company's worth of people to support. I do actually think their work is worth paying for! Everyone's is! But convincing anyone to pay for something they previously got for free is going to be a hard sell. They were still getting paid before, they're now just asking us to pay instead of the advertisers. Idk about you, but that's a way bigger hit to my pocketbook than a multimillion dollar company's bank account.
-I get that YouTube can be a really shitty place to be a creator sometimes, and that being beholden to advertisers is something they don't want to be. It's why they left Buzzfeed! They already have a patreon and merch and it's clearly not been enough for their ambitions. But shooting yourself in the foot because your running shoes are wearing out isn't going to make you a better marathon runner. They had to know that there was going to be a not small portion of their audience unwilling to make this move with them (and again, lots literally aren't able to!)
-If they had a free w/ ads option, or even did a hybrid model with whole shows behind the pay wall, or even just ran a fucking crowd funding campaign to help cover costs of new seasons of shows, any of those things could have worked. They don't even have YouTube memberships turned on, which I've personally seen many many channels do even when they already have a patreon. It really doesn't seem like they've exhausted other options, at least from an outside perspective, which is all we have as viewers!
-I get that this has been in the works for a long time, and that there probably isn't a way for them to back out now. But I hope they can find a way to make this more accessible if they want it to work at all. I truly am not wishing for their downfall, but the whole situation is an awful mess.
Idk, rant over. As a lot of you are I'm feeling very disappointed and upset with this one, and I'm not paying for it either. Hope the boys can salvage this one for their and their crew's sake. Would really hate for this to be the end.
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violet-fluff · 3 days
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Levi x Amnesia! Reader (Ch.1)
New to You
I went with a different approach so I changed the title. Hope you all enjoy.
Intro Chapter: click here
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“Why didn’t you tell me she hit her damn head?”
“She said it didn’t hurt, so I didn’t think much of it!”
You can hear arguing as you start waking up. The excessive noise makes your head pound even harder, so you groan in pain.
“Y/N, can you hear me?” A man asked in your ear.
You can feel a rough hand squeeze your own in comfort, making you feel a little better as you slowly open your eyes.
As your vision focuses, your eyes lay on some grey ones. The grey ones look both tired and concerned.
You slowly start sitting up, with the man helping you steady yourself as you lay against the pillows.
“What happened?” You ask while rubbing your head.
The woman with the glasses you saw earlier laughed anxiously. “Well you kind of collided with one of the trainees out on the training field. At least he wasn’t going too fast on the 3D gear!”
“What?” You groan and hold your head as you look around the room. It looks to be you’re in a medical room of the sorts. “Who are you two?”
The man and woman look at each other silently, and the woman speaks up again.
“Y/N, it’s Hanji and Levi?”
“Sorry, it doesn’t ring a bell,” Turning to the man next to you, you jump in surprise, “Wait! You were in bed with me!”
The man, apparently named Levi, stares at you blankly. “Yes, because I’m your husband.”
“Husband?!” You yell in disbelief, “Um no. Ya’ll have the wrong person! I’m not married!”
Hanji takes note of the way you speak. Your accent sounds a little different and you’re using new words that she’s never heard before.
Hanji clears her throat as Levi looks to her for help. “Y/N, on our last mission you hit your head and we both thought you would be fine. That was my mistake because as your squad leader I should have had that checked up on when we got back to base. You must have had some damage to your brain because you woke up this morning with memory loss.” She clasps her hands nervously, “And getting hit at full speed by another person earlier probably didn’t help either.”
‘Mission? Base? Squad leader? Those all sound like military terms.’
“Do I happen to be on a military base?” You ask quietly.
Hanji claps her hands in excitement, thinking your memory is coming back. “Yes! Yes we are!”
You sigh and fall back onto your pillows. “I knew they were coming for me.”
Hanji deadpans. “What?”
You close your eyes. “I knew you guys would be coming for me after I took on my assignment.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Levi asks.
“My research assignment assigned by NASA and Space X. They wanted me to use both cosmology and neuroscience to find the existence of multi-universes.” You sigh, “No need to torture me though, the assignment was a dud. So can I go home now?”
“Y/N what-“ Levi was about to ask what the hell all that meant when Hanji put a hand on his shoulder to quiet him.
“Y/N, I think you’ve had a strange dream? Because you are a soldier in the Survey Corps military. You are not a researcher for those, erm, people, you are talking about?” Hanji tells you gently.
You scrunch your brows together in confusion. “I’m not a soldier and never have been? I mean, I’ve had family in the military if my last name is familiar.”
Levi sighs. “Hanji, this is so confusing. She’s Y/N, and she knows she’s Y/N, but why does she seem like a completely different person. We should really just go get the doctor.”
An idea pops into Hanji’s head. “Y/N, do you mind walking over to the mirror and looking at yourself?”
“Um…ok?”
Levi helps you up but you wave him off when you steady your balance to walk over to the mirror. You stare at yourself in shock and almost scream.
“You guys cut my hair?!” You yell as you pull at the short strands that barely touch your shoulders.
You freeze when you notice another new detail.
Your eyes are a different color.
“What the hell?!” You start poking at your eyeballs, thinking there’s colored contacts on your eyes, and Levi runs over to grab your wrists.
“What the hell are you doing?! Stop!”
You shove him off. “What did you psychos do to me?!”
“Y/N, you look the same!” Hanji is getting nervous that you will run off again.
You grab a surgical knife that’s on a cart next to you and point it at them. “Are you performing experiments on me or something? Is this your form of torture? Wait until word gets out that the military experimented on an innocent scientist!”
Hanji and Levi watch you closely as you start moving towards them with the knife. Levi looks like he’s ready to tackle you, but Hanji tries a more humane approach.
“We are not experimenting on you! Look I’m not sure how jumbled your memories got or if they got twisted with some weird dreams you had while knocked out, but you’re Y/N L/N, you were born inside the walls of Maria, you joined the Survey Corp. ten years ago when you turned seventeen and have been here ever since. I’m your best friend and Levi is your husband of two years.”
“You’re also not a scientist and we have no idea what you’re talking about with the other stuff. We want to help you, but we are just as confused as you are.” Levi chimes in.
You loosen your grip on the knife as you take in what they said. Suddenly, flashes of memories of you in a lab with your lab partner flood into your head. The last you remember, you were working on splitting and combining protons.
“Wait…no… this is a different me!” You drop the knife and jump up and down in excitement. “It exists! The multiverse exists!”
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Tag List: comment if you want to be added
@scarletrosesposts @aomi04 @levitonin @levisfavoriteteashop @sleephereicome @dressycobra7
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penvisions · 18 hours
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coffee and candor {one shot}
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Pairing: Frankie Morales x Reader
Summary: Frankie picks you up for date number three and he's got it all planned out. Unfortunately, you're a little out of your depth with what he has in mind...
Word Count: 1.8k
Warnings: insecurities, frankie being excited and adorable gets it's own warning, competence kink, kissing, matching clothing, this is so fluffy and soft, um i think that's it tbh
A/N: while i'm still taking a short break from regular fic updates, this was a commission by the lovely @whocaresstillthelouvre. the prompt was 'nervous frankie x not outdoorsy! reader go on a hike early in their relationship'. i rather like how this turned out! i am still taking commissions even if i'm not working on wips at the moment. anything helps, please check out this post and this post to know more about what's goin' on in my lil corner. no pressure all all lovelies, i know things are tough for everyone! love y'll and hope the day is good to you ♡♡
ao3 link || navigation || main masterlist || ko-fi
Body tingling with anticipation, you wait on for the rumble of a truck engine to round the corner. You were nervous, this is only your third date with the man you had met by chance at a coffee shop. A mix up of to go cups and you found yourself placating a very tired and embarrassed Frankie Morales.
He had picked up your drink by mistake. But if you were honest, it was totally okay that you had to wait an extra few moments to get it remade before you blipped off to work, because it gave you the chance to chat with him and scrawl your phone number onto the cup that was supposed to be yours. His kind smile motivating you to be a little bolder than you normally would.
The truck does indeed rumble around the corner and within minutes you’re sat in the passenger seat with the radio playing low and cruising down the highway.
“So what did you plan for us today? The truck looks suspiciously empty.” You eyed the cooler sitting in the extended cab, lid propped open and empty. Then the simplistic backpack beside it, it was always in the foot space between the two front seats. Frankie had admitted to you that it helped to ground him to know he had essentials within reach at all times, just in case. You hadn’t pushed for more of an explanation, knowing he had faced more than a few situations he felt less than prepared for.
But the rite in the rain notebook with the matching pen he had in his pocket along with his wallet at all times told you he was good at preparing for anything within reason. The situations he faced out of his control had not been shared with you quite yet but you would be content if they weren’t, only wanting for him to tell you if he was comfortable enough to do so.
With pink tinged ears he turns to you with a lopsided smile.
“The pack has everything we need, don’t you worry your pretty little head.”
“Not worried, just curious.” Your tongue peeks out from between your teeth and you see the way his adam’s apple bobs in response. His eyes snap back to the road and you feel a giddy sense of satisfaction at having flustered him a bit. He’d been the perfect gentlemen, his large hands only skimming around your body to lead you through doors, a tentative palm on your thigh as you sit beside him. No kissing, at least not yet. You were hoping today would be the day.
“I figured we would get out of the city a bit, go on a hike. It’s a really short one, only a few miles. Not too bad of an elevation gain, cleared out of poison oak, leads to a view I really think you’ll like. It’s an easy looped hike, so I figured we’d have a bite to eat at the midpoint. I packed up some snacks too, plenty of water. Even got some bugs spray and sunscreen.”
He rambled on, excitement obvious as he detailed the plan for the day, his face lighting up in the most endearing way. He was totally in his element and you….you were not. When you didn’t quip back immediately, he loosened a curled fist from around the steering wheel and reached for your thigh.
“That okay?” He jostled you slightly, worry seeping into his voice.
“Oh, um, y-yes.” You tried to muster up a smile, but it paled in comparison to the one he had only moments ago.
“I knew I should’ve run the idea by you. You don’t seem as excited now,” His bottom lip was taken between his teeth, worrying the skin of it as he regarded your profile. The slight furrow to your brow, the way your hands were wound around the flaps of your open overshirt. You had picked out a tank top and shorts outfit, tossing on casual button up over it, not sure what he had planned initially.
The first date had been coffee: to make up for him stealing yours. He had been nervous, his energy spiking and waning as he admitted he didn’t do this often. Date. Get random phone numbers. Have a lot of free time. He was a dad, to a bouncy and energetic seven-year-old. Nothing to worry about on the baby momma front, she wasn’t a part of the picture. A story you didn’t push on either, just making it as comfortable as possible between you two for him to want to tell you.
The second date had been dinner, with him in an ironed outfit and you in a slinky dress. It had been so much fun, the excitement obvious as you both hoped for another chance to see each other.
And now, the third: a hike.
You did not hike. You didn’t do anything considered outdoorsy if you were being completely honest. You were a lazy, take the day off to look through thrift shops kind of person. A curl up on the couch with a cup of steaming coffee or a cocktail and a book kind of person.
“Hey,” He breathed, soft brown eyes watching the way you had closed up. “It’s okay. We don’t have to, I promise I won’t be mad.”
“You’re so excited, though.” You move a hand to tangle your fingers with is, hand still on your thigh. Your stomach flutters, his skin is calloused and warm.
“I get excited about spending time with you, hermosa. It doesn’t matter what we do.”
“I want to do the hike.” You insist, wanting him to go back to the enthusiastic way he had talked about his plans.
“Please don’t feel like you have-“
“I don’t feel like I have to, Frankie, I want to. Because you want to. Simple.” You squeeze his hand in yours, placating him along with a soft smile.
“Simple.” With a lopsided grin and a press of his lips to your knuckles, the tension eases.
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Gravel crunched underneath the tired of the truck as Frankie maneuvers off the secluded highway. Tall trees and various shades of green surround you. You both sat and listened to the clinking of the engine cooling down, taking a moment to breathe in the pine and cedar.
“I, uh, got you something.” He huffed a little as he reached for the back and hauled it into his lap.
“You didn’t have to- oh my gosh!” It was a hat, a baseball cap just like the one atop his head. Dark navy blue, emblazoned with a ‘standard heating oil’ patch. Your stomach fluttered at the implication.
“To help keep the sun off your head and outta your eyes.” He plopped it atop your head, the stiff thing just barely resting over your hair. “We’ll have a lot of tree coverage, but better safe than sorry.”
“We’re matching.” You can’t help the teasing smile that took over your lips, heat blooming in your cheeks as you realized you would look like an official couple to any onlookers. Something you had thought about more and more as Frankie filled your thoughts and messages.
“Yeah, would you look at that.” A dimple in his right cheek had you reaching out to caress it, silently thanking him for his thoughtfulness. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted one like mine, but I’m really glad you like it.”
“I do like it! I like matching with you, Frankie.”
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His smile was dazzling as he looked back at you over his shoulder. You perked up a little, not wanting him to see the way it was hard to catch your breath or the falter to your steps as your legs began to ache from the incline. The slight brush of the long grass and reaching limbs full of leaves tickled but you tried your best to ignore it, opting to focus on the broad set of shoulders carrying a backpack.
Another bout of time passed, allowing for sweat to dampen your brow and the small of your back. You had removed your overshirt, tying the long sleeves around your waist. The stray pieces of your hair that had escaped from your hat floated around your face as you puffed out a deep breath.
Frankie seemed to pick up the moderate pace he had been keeping, his boots thudding the ground as he turned to pivot from the path as it began to curve.
“Uh, the trail goes that way.” You pointed over your shoulder, having followed the man’s lead regardless.
“I know, got a map in the pack if it makes you feel better.” He tossed you a reassuring smile, over his own shoulder. His eyes alight underneath his cap.
You were about to respond when he took another step and suddenly the trees fell away from around you, leaving you stood on an overlook. Valley open and wide in front of you, the view took your already short breath away. Frankie looked from the view to gauge your reaction. And he broke out into a wide smile as he saw how much you were taken off guard by the beautiful view.
Removing is pack, he set it down and reached to turn you toward him.
“This last month or so has been so amazing. Getting to know you has been some of the best parts of my life, hermosa. I was worried dating again after so long and not even looking for it would’ve been another lesson learned but everything with you is just so….”
“Simple.” You allowed him to caress his hands over the small of your back, your own reaching for his shoulders. The bills of your matching hats bumped, easy laughter bubbling up from you both.
“Simple.” He agreed, tongue swiping out to wet his plush lips. His eyes flicked down to yours briefly and your heart fluttered as warmth blossomed in your chest. Pressing more into his space, your chest bumped his, giving him the nudge he needed to close the gap even more.
Out on that ridge where you never would’ve trekked to on your own, you shared your first of many kisses with the man who had taken you completely by surprise. His lips soft and pliant against yours, his warmth seeping into you much like the sun on your skin underneath the open sky. You were the one to lick into the seam of his mouth, something he readily allowed you to do. The slid of his tongue on yours like heaven.
Breaking away, Frankie peppered kisses over your face. Lips tasting the salt from your sweat but he didn’t seem to mind one bit. Turning side by side, he kept his hand around your waist and you mimicked him.
Maybe hiking wasn’t so bad.
dividers by the lovely @/cafekitsune
taglist: @tuquoquebrute @sawymredfox @jessthebaker @littlemisspascal
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blasphemecel · 2 days
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Michael Kaiser — Takotsubo Cardiomyopathy
PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 1.3k TYPE: Angst, Post-break up WARNING(S): Don't read if you're sensitive to medical stuff, also tw for KAISER-TYPICAL MELODRAMA
“Are you fucking kidding me? That just sounds made up.”
“Sir,” the doctor, who’s been having to deal with Kaiser acting like the hospital is a debate club for the past fifteen minutes, says. Then he lets out a sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. In all honesty, he does not want to deal with this. “While there’s an existing argument about the classification of broken heart syndrome, it is a real thing that happens. And you have it as we’ve deduced.”
“I don’t have health problems,” Kaiser says. Of course, those words fly out of his mouth without trouble even when Ness had to call an ambulance on him and everything, since he looked like he was on the brink of death today at practice. “Much less from bullshit reasons like a broken heart.”
“You don’t need to take it literally. That’s just the name. The trigger for the stress varies from case to case.”
Kaiser hopes his defensive statement didn’t reveal anything too personal, and decides to throw off any suspicion by staring down at his lap while frowning like a kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. At least the doctor doesn’t seem to care because he’s not prying for unnecessary details. Not yet, anyway.
“For how long have you been ignoring the symptoms?”
“I haven’t been ignoring anything,” Kaiser says.
Sure, he was dizzy a few (many) times and short of breath, and disregarded it. And while he can sense the tightness and pain in his chest each time, a recurring physical and tangible ache, Kaiser interprets the experience as some kind of metaphor for the figurative stabbing he was a victim of. The arrhythmia is a natural indignant response to whenever your irritating face pops up in his imagination, since you’re the perpetrator.
All this over some shitty break up. While it’s stupid for someone whose career is in sports to shrug off such obvious signs, until today Kaiser never truly thought it was serious enough to warrant such an overreaction from his body. You shouldn’t have this much power over him. He’s going to kill you next time he sees you for doing this to him.
He’s deep in denial and the grave he’s been digging with his stupid lies is shallow in contrast, inefficient. Can’t even deceive himself.
“It’s most common in people over fifty.”
Kaiser rolls his eyes. “Thanks. I really needed to hear that.”
“What I’m saying is, I assume you’ve been ignoring this for some time and it escalated to a bad attack. So, do you recall if you’ve gone through severe stress recently? Anything traumatizing even, either physically or mentally? When was it? If you could be exact, that’d be helpful.”
Traumatizing? Traumatizing? Is this man fucking kidding him right now?
Kaiser stares at the doctor as if he’s the stupidest person alive. Forget a person, he is a bug for such a suggestion. Through grit teeth, he relents, “There was something two weeks ago. By the way, it wasn’t traumatizing! That’s ridiculous.”
What’s even more absurd is the notion Kaiser wouldn’t know how much time has passed with perfect accuracy. Fourteen days he hasn’t been sleeping well, hugging his pillow and crying like a loser, cursing you, wanting you back, both a worshipper and a heretic.
What was he feeling at that moment, when you broke things off? Was it overwhelming anger which got him to this point? Though he’s been reliving the moment over and over, Kaiser still can’t identify it. Just something intense zapping him through his veins, a devastating shock, a surge of adrenaline. But surely it was resentment at your audacity to throw him away like disposable trash? He doesn’t like the thought that he’s been so pathetically sad, he got sick because of it, so this is what he’ll go with.
Thinking about it is enough to make him start picking at the skin on his neck like he’s trying to peel the ink off. It’s almost vile. At least he retains the common sense not to squeeze it in front of a medical professional who can send him away to a psych ward with ease.
The doctor, too, looks at Kaiser like he is an insane person. Good thing they pay him enough for this — otherwise, he doesn’t know how he’d deal with having a strange man with a bizarre haircut give him attitude over his diagnosis when it should be reserved for his barber or whoever is responsible.
“Two weeks ago, okay,” he says, writing it down. “Lucky for you, this is temporary and reversible unlike most other things we checked you for. You’ll be fine in about two months with the treatment.”
“So, like I thought, it’s not a big deal. I can still play football, right? Don’t need to lay off or anything?” Kaiser asks.
The doctor sighs. Again. He wants to measure the circumference, thickness and density of Kaiser’s skull. “You’re not listening,” he says, clearly exasperated, but still trying to exert patience. “Your heart is weak and not functioning properly at the moment. You can’t immediately jump back into living the way you usually do. It’s still serious no matter what you say and it can cause complications.”
Kaiser makes an annoyed expression like this is all one big inconvenience rather than a threat to his quality of life. “Are you serious? You’ve got to be shitting me.”
“I’m honored you seem to think I’m a hilarious comedian, sir, since this is your nth time asking, but it’s not the case,” he says levelly.
“Don’t get clever with me.”
A sharp inhale through the nose and the doctor’s back on track, maintaining a feeble grasp on his inner peace, at least enough not to snap. Then, after this brief recollection, he reaches out to grab something, then holds it up. It’s a picture that looks either like an abortion-to-be or a black and white photo of lasagna… maybe. “This is your heart.”
Kaiser almost forgot about the ultrasound or whatever since he was strung out and sedated- relaxed throughout that whole ordeal. At the sight of it now, always theatrical, he decides the best course of action is to wrinkle his nose and say ‘eww,’ even though he’s not squeamish. But treating the matter seriously means admitting he has a problem, and he can’t have that.
The doctor pretends he can’t hear anything and points at the relevant area with his finger to illustrate the crux of the matter better. “You have apical ballooning. Do you get it? Even if it’s temporary, you can’t treat it lightly. So-”
Kaiser tunes out the rest of the explanation. Blah, blah, he could harm himself, very original. His gaze is stuck on the echocardiogram, though, and this time he’s nauseous for real, the tiniest bit. It strikes him as particularly ugly and deformed. Organs are repulsive to begin with, anyway, but this… thing is his, and he’s seeing it now. In any case, nothing so disgusting is worth loving or treating with care.
Is this how you’ve come to see him? What does Kaiser look like in your eyes? Ugly and maladjusted on the inside? Someone who likes laughing at other people’s misery, but can’t take even the slightest puncture? So out of touch with his emotions — and of his own volition —, he’s started experiencing them in the most visceral way possible. His desire for you: torment, a disease.
Would you find him dramatic? Maybe, but at least you’d make him laugh and smile and anything else his troubled mind has decided he needs at the moment, from you alone. Doesn’t matter, though. He’s not privy to that kind of thing, not anymore.
There’s a sting in his eyes and Kaiser wipes away his tears with a hasty swipe, though a few more stream down his cheeks. He doesn’t even know what he’s crying about again.
The doctor observes the display with the distanced apathy of someone who’s watched people die and shit themselves.
He gets discharged with a prescription and elaborate instructions on how to go about his physical activities until it’s deemed he’s fully healed at the later check-ups.
Great. Pitiful.
___
What's funny is that Y/n's probably having a good day while all this is going on
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snakeredbirdbatkatana · 17 hours
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You Didn't Save me (I begged You Not To)
Lex Luthor is not a good man.
He is a literal supervillain, he's also more than aware of the consent issues of what he did when he created Connor.
Yet he is surprised by how furious Superman is making him.
Not that he isn't always angry with Superman but before it wasn't quite so personal.
It was a bigger issue what Superman stood for what he was but right now he's not picking the fight with Superman but with Clark Kent.
He has spent as much time as possible studying everything about kryptonian's from their weakness to their language.
Essentially, Superman should keep better track of his belongings.
Kon-El means abomination.
Lionel Luthor was never a kind man he knows exactly why he is who he is today. He still has slight scars from his fathers belt. Cruel words that years after his father's death, will still haunt his memories.
When he was younger he was friends with Bruce Wayne before being a Villain was his priority.
He remembers hiding at Wayne Manor a feeling of safety he had never felt before.
He's also more than aware that his old friend is running around as a Bat.
Bruce Wayne even as a child always stood for hope was always ready to change the world to stand for something better.
That's is why years later Lex Luthor is knocking on a door that he's not hundred percent sure he won't be turned away from.
Yet Kon-El means abomination.
"Mr. Luthor I was unaware Master Bruce was expecting you?"
Alfred looks older than Lex remembers for some reason the man always seemed above aging untouchable even by time.
"He's not, I need to speak with him please it's urgent."
He is a Luthor begging is below him, but right now he feels fourteen again, with the belief that the people within Wayne Manor can fix anything.
"Of course. Master Bruce is in his study, I will lead you please follow me Mr. Luthor."
He doesn't bring up how he knows the way. That he once ran chasing after Bruce hiding in that very study. That they had broken Vase playing like little boys did. He doesn't bring up crying, terrified that Alfred had promised him no harm should come to him in these halls.
He doesn't correct how he used to be Master Lex. He lost that privilege long ago.
It's been a very long time since he has laid eyes on Bruce Wayne he's seen the tabloids, even a passing glance at a gala but for some reason he didn't picture slight gray hair, a dark black suit, he imagined a Gotham Academy Uniform or a Nirvana Shirt that Lex always wanted to steel but never quite worked up the courage.
He doesn't even hear Alfred's depart he can't tear his eyes away from Bruce.
His throat is dry like all the moisture has somehow left since he walked through the doors.
He is Lex Luthor but right now he doesn't remember what that means.
"Kon-El means abomination did you know that?"
His voice weak. Bruce's face doesn't change, blank.
" I am not my Father. I don't know what to do but I refuse for my child to think he isn't loved by at least one of his parents."
He breathes.
"All those year ago, you told me that you would help that all I had to do was ask, I was an idiot, it's too late for me but not for him."
Bruce's voice startles him he hasn't realized how deep in his own mind he had sank.
"All you had to do was ask."
Bruce's face painted in the same smirk as if they were eighteen again smoking on the manors roof.
Lex Luthor is not a good person, but for Connor Luthor he will try he will rebuild bridges, bend his pride he will beg on his knees.
He never unstood how a parent should be or what it really meant to wake up everyday and have your whole being dedicated to loving and protecting something.
As he watches the rise and fall of his child's chest wrapped in the arms of the third Robin safe in his penthouse behind security straight from Wayne Entirpries and he doesn't regret it.
He know's he would do it all over again and when next Sunday comes and he gets a invite to brunch that he never throught he would see again he knows it was all for the better.
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1d1195 · 1 day
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Dolcezza Extra I
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Read Dolcezza here | ~4.7k words
From me: this is something I’ve never done before: an alternate idea to something I've already written. I will be copying and pasting parts to keep the continuity but I hope you like it. It was pretty fun. The first couple paragraphs are from the original part. I’m sure you can all follow without me telling you all this. Have fun!
Warnings: stalking, scary (?) Also, no clue what kinds of protocols are supposed to be in place for this sort of thing. I don't think it makes a lot of sense logistically or law-wise. But that's not what we're here for, right?! I wanted it to kind of go right in the middle of Part 8, like starts in the beginning-ish part of it and end essentially in the same way.
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It was one of those nights where everything was going wrong, and everything was too busy. Antonio was caring for Leo, the baby, and the missus—all sick with something Leo brought home from preschool, so Harry and Niall were left in charge. Normally, the sweet girl found her way down and situate herself at a station doing the takeout orders but given the little... spat (what else could he call it?) she seemed to be avoiding him.
His phone began vibrating in his pocket without pause for three full minutes, but he literally hadn’t a second to look at it. All he wanted was for the pretty girl to appear. He wanted to apologize profusely for overstepping. He just cared for her so much. Even if she wasn’t comfortable with how he handled things, he wanted to make it better. He cared so deeply for her it hurt to be apart from her without so much as a text message between them over the last two days. He managed to see her exit a car that wasn’t hers parked in her spot. At least her car was getting fixed. But he imagined she had another busy Friday and Saturday. He wished he could have helped more. Wished he didn’t mess up and revealed that he messed it up in a way he couldn’t fix it.
The moment the orders slowed, Harry was planning to race up her steps and beg for forgiveness.
Harry dropped a knife for the third time on the same onion he had been trying to dice for the last five minutes. He growled to himself, snagged it off the floor (nearly slicing his hand from his anger overtaking rational thought to pick it up by the handle), and all but tossed it in the sink.
“Why not just talk to her?” Niall muttered across the way.
“Shut up,” he snapped, bitterness coating his voice. Niall raised his eyebrows at him and shook his head. He turned the other way, turned his attention to the soup he was pouring into bowls. “M’going to,” he mumbled grabbing a clean knife as he started chopping again. “Sorry.”
He nodded. “It’s alright. Just thinking we could really use her help,” Niall smirked.
Harry snorted. “Y’could probably ask her,” he mumbled. “She’d come running t’help m’sure.”
“Yeah, but it defeats your whole she’s spreading herself too thin. And then I’m no different than rest, huh?”
Harry sighed, grateful for his understanding. “You’re a really good friend, Niall.”
“Don’t I know it,” he laughed. It was infectious. Hard to keep Harry in a bad mood and he prayed to God the orders slowed soon so he could run up and beg her to come help Niall and him because as much as he didn’t want to ask her for another thing, working with her on busy nights were some of his favorite moments.
Harry’s phone was still vibrating. He wondered if he set a timer for something and it was just going off continuously. “M’phone’s been ringing nonstop.”
“Mum?” Niall asked.
“No... she knows m’at work. Plus, she’d call the restaurant if it was an emergency. I gave her the number.”
“S’probably an alarm, yeah?”
“Yeah... probably.”
“Oh, she’s here,” Niall mumbled his gaze narrowing at the slip of paper in his hand. “Eggplant and two times the extra garlic bread…” Niall waved the ticket out like he always did when they realized the arrival of Harry’s Principessa.
Well, at least Harry wouldn’t have to sprint upstairs to apologize. Still, it was odd she didn’t make herself known when she got there even if they weren’t exactly on speaking terms. Harry glanced toward the window for a peek to see if she was there, but he was too far away. “Niall did you see her?” He asked.
“No…” his voice was low, over the bustle of the few staff that were in the kitchen, Harry hardly heard him. Like he was piecing a puzzle together. He was studying the slip. Like it would give him the hint.
“See who?” The hostess asked. She was grabbing a take-out order off the counter that Niall had just finished packaging. Niall slid the ticket into the holder still examining it.
“Principessa,” Niall mumbled. “She always orders extra garlic bread with her eggplant.”
“Oh yeah she’s here with her brother or something,” Antonio’s nephew, Matteo, jumped right into the conversation as he brought back empty plates from the dining room.
Harry’s head snapped up from the veggies he was cutting and tossing into a pot to make a sauce. “Brother...?” Harry didn’t think that made sense at all. He remembered seeing “James groceries” on her calendar while he cleaned earlier in the week. It was always done on a day when James had to work in the evening so there was no way he would have come all the way out here for dinner. Still, he thought Harry would have known if James was here—between his protective brother streak or even just saying hello and thank you for the food. Harry thought she would bring him right back here to the kitchen and make herself at home.
But maybe Harry misread it. Or maybe James finally suspected she was tired and strung out and was taking a step to help with his kind older sister.
“Well, it’s not dinner with you; so, who else would it be?” Matteo reminded them with a shrug.
Niall gasped dropping the plate he was holding, and it shattered to the ground. Everyone stopped to look at him and he grabbed the ticket once more. Like it finally revealed the missing clue. At the same time Harry dropped the fourth knife he was using because if Matteo hadn’t said “who else would it be” they might not have put it together right then.
Harry hurried to the window and searched. “Where’s she sitting?” His voice was hurried. There was a one second pause. “Matteo, now!”
“Corner, near the door. What’s—”
“Niall...” Harry’s body felt weak and shaky. His blood was hot and boiling immediately. His vision was getting blurry at the edges, and he had never felt so close to throwing up in his whole life. Not even when he had the flu in university.
Why was his phone vibrating still?
“Oh no,” he murmured reaching for the phone in his pocket.
“Shit!” Niall hissed looking at the direction of the man sitting across from the pretty girl all the way across the restaurant.
Harry slid his thumb across his phone without taking his eyes off the table across the main room. The weakness he felt ached through every inch in his body. “Eleanor, I—”
He yanked the phone away from his ear as she responded, loudly, shouting. “Harry! For the love of GOD! Do you never look at your phone!? Why do you even have one!?”
Harry felt sicker at the accusation. How could he not look at his phone? “El—”
“Harry it’s bad,” Eleanor sobbed, barely getting the words out. Harry could hear Louis shushing her as best he could. “It’s really bad.”
It was every one of Harry’s worst nightmares.
*
She was trying to process why the door was open. She quietly stepped back from her own door, but she wasn’t in control of her own body. Her heart was beating a little faster than normal. Her brain tried to reason with her muscles that there had to be a reasonable explanation. Instead, her muscles continued moving; she pressed the volume button on her phone to turn Eleanor’s voice down even though she continued rambling about how Harry adored her, and she was pretty sure he was in love with her too.
Not even the idea of Harry loving her could shake the nerves away.
“El... Eleanor,” she whispered listening intently to Antonio’s office door distinctly closing and three foreboding footsteps reaching her door. The clinking metallic sound of someone fiddling with the lock on her door came next. She had the phone pressed to her lips trying to soundlessly alert Eleanor as best she could as she scurried backwards as if the door was on fire. “El! STOP!” She hissed listening for more sound.
“What?” She could hear the eye roll in her friend’s voice. “You have to confront these emotions Harry is—” There was a low voice cursing outside her door as the lock was fiddled with more and she stepped back as the door opened. Her jaw dropped along with her phone smacking to the ground. She could faintly hear Eleanor calling at the sound of the noise.
The man before her smiled excitedly, relieved. “You’re home. I knew I’d find you,” he sighed with relief reaching for her. Instinctively she took a step back, it took every ounce of her self-control to keep from throwing up all over herself or the not-so-stranger. “I’m so glad I’ve found you; I missed you so much.”
Her heart was pounding erratically. Her only saving grace was knowing Eleanor heard. She reached for her phone. Autopilot. Grab the phone that clattered to the floor.
He kicked it out of the way. “You don’t need that,” he assured her with an easy smile. She straightened; cleared her throat.
“I…don’t?” She whispered. She should have spoken louder so Eleanor could hear. Of course, she loved her apartment, and she loved Antonio and the little family he invited her to be part of that was Dolcezza. Right then, however, she wanted to cry that her apartment was soundproofed beyond auditorial recognition. Her eyes dropped to the fabric in his hand. She swallowed the bile that continued rising in her throat while he looked at her as if he had known her his whole life.
“No,” he shook his head.
Her mind wasn’t working. She was exhausted and terrified and poor Eleanor was screaming from the other end of the line. He grabbed the phone. “Hi Eleanor,” he said simply. “She’s okay. We’re going on a trip, she’ll be safe with me,” he assured her.
Then he left her phone on the side table. Hanging up and leaving it there. It started to vibrate immediately; Eleanor desperate to hear her answer again. Instead, he ignored it, held his hand out for her to take. “I need my stuff—” she stepped toward her bedroom, but he grabbed her arm. She yanked it away, like he burned her. She gasped at the touch, and he frowned.
“Sorry—”
Her fight or flight kicked in and she bolted for the bathroom. It would lock and she would drop from the second story if necessary or scream until Harry heard her.
Oh. Harry.
Right as she tried to slam the door shut behind her his foot got in the way. She yelped as he grabbed her arm and yanked her out of the room. “Honey, stop fighting me,” he grumbled bitterly. She felt so sick. So scared. She wanted to scream and cry but it would be useless. No one would hear her. She needed to make someone hear her.
Slowly, painfully slowly, her brain started to work. It wasn’t much. But she prayed silently to herself that it would be. She took a shaky inhaled breath. “I’m…sorry,” her voice cracked, and tears welled in her eyes. She couldn’t look at him. She was too scared. It was a nightmare, but she could feel the way her teeth bit into her cheek. It wasn’t something she would be waking up from. “I’ve had a really long week and a really long day. I haven’t eaten yet,” she whispered. “I was going to go downstairs and eat at the restaurant,” she sniffled. “Can we do that? A date?” It tasted sour in her mouth to say it. Her fingernails dug into her palms reminding her further it was a nightmare. It had to work. Please let it work.
“A date?” He mused. He stuffed the fabric in his hands into the pocket of his pants.
“Please,” she whispered. “I’m starving.”
“And then we can go to my place?”
The idea was so nauseating, so terrifying, she worried that it wouldn’t work. If the food got to her table, she was so incredibly scared she wouldn’t be able to eat it. Her whole body felt shaky and clammy. Like when she had the flu. One bite and she would be puking all over her table.
But hopefully that would get Harry’s attention.
“Okay,” he agreed and held his hand out for her to take. It felt like cheating on Harry to hold someone else’s hand. She forced the tears behind her eyes and willed the nausea to stay in the pit of her stomach.
She placed her hand in his.
*
Harry was pacing trying to figure out how to tell her he knew. Niall was on the phone with the police begging for no sirens and no lights. Eleanor was, in the smallest of possible ways, relieved to hear she was in the restaurant and not halfway to somewhere they didn’t know.
Harry couldn’t see her face. It killed him. Why didn’t he go up sooner? Why didn’t he beg for her to come down and help so they could make up? Why didn’t he insist and help her stubborn self the way he wanted to?!
“Goddamnit!” He shouted and shoved a bin of clean cutlery on the floor. It was so loud the restaurant ceased to make noise for a prolonged moment.
“Harry,” Niall was off the phone with the police Eleanor sobbing in his other ear no doubt. “You need to be smart. They cannot leave before the police get here or we’re fucked. Eleanor already sent the detective on her case to his old place of residence and there is no sign of him there. So, if they leave…” he trailed off and Harry released a strangled noise from his throat. Not quite a cry, not quite a yell. The pain was so intense from the thought he thought he could feel it in the atoms of his body. “If you cannot have a controlled response...,” Niall warned without finishing the sentence.
Harry swallowed the feeling of being sick down. He knew what Niall meant. “Okay,” he croaked.
Everyone was still trying to work. But the whispers ensued. Within moments, everyone knew. Everyone was trying to piece together a plan and Harry felt so confused, so lost, so scared because the only one he could ever imagine getting out of this situation was his sweet Principessa herself.
“Alright,” he cleared his throat. He needed to be brave. She needed him. She never needed anyone. The weight of that made him terrified. Shaking his head he pressed the heels of his palms in his eyes to stop the stressed tears from escaping. He swallowed and shook his head again. She did the hard part. She got herself in the restaurant and Harry’s attention without even talking to him. “Niall, bring out the garlic bread in three minutes,” he ordered while untying his apron and heading for the door to the alleyway. “Tell Eleanor to tell the detective to hurry.”
*
The restaurant was easily one of her top five favorite places in the world. But right now, she wanted to scream and run from it. Where was Harry or Niall?! God, she wanted to kill Matteo. How did he not know? Wasn’t everyone under a silent direction to tell Harry when she arrived?
The worry began to take over. Harry wasn’t coming to her rescue because he didn’t want to. She pushed him away and he was going to let—
No.
Harry, despite how mad he might have been, would never let anything happen to her. She was certain.
Wasn’t she?
Perhaps Harry really just didn’t know. It was unfortunate, but there was nothing she could do about it. Especially without any indication that anyone knew she was there. Her back was to the restaurant, and she was still in her gym clothes. With her back turned, hair in a ponytail, she was probably less recognizable than normal. That had to be it. He had no idea she was there.
It was a miracle she could keep her breathing as even as she did. The thoughts started to spiral further. Maybe he wouldn’t know. It was really busy in the restaurant—Matteo might not have noticed she was there with a stranger when he seated them since the hostess wasn’t there. Maybe he didn’t tell Harry yet.
Her heart was beating so loudly in her ears it was hard to hold a conversation with him almost because she couldn’t hear him; more so than the fact that she didn’t want to talk to him. But she didn’t have a choice. He asked her about work, her family, and if she had been reading anything good. She wasn’t into it—it was obvious and she wished she was because the only thing that was going to save her was being able to play it off that she didn’t want to crawl out of her skin at the sight or sound of him. Her stomach was churning, and her voice was so quiet she wished she could do a better job acting but she was terrified. Pain started behind her eyes, and she wanted to scream.
“Good evening.”
Her head snapped up to Harry briefly, who seemingly appeared out of thin air. Her jaw dropped silently. She was really beginning to believe that he wasn’t coming to her rescue. But now he was there. He knew she was there. He was going to help. She was sure of it.
He knew she was there.
Her heart started to pound in a new way, still scared but for the first time in twenty minutes she took a deep cleansing breath; relieved. She looked at her lap afraid to give it away that she knew him.  “We are very short staffed this evening. We’re extremely sorry for the delay,” Harry sounded so formal, and she couldn’t look at him. If she did, she would cry. “Your food will be out as soon as we can. Please be patient with us. We’re very sorry.”
If she looked up, she knew his eyes would be looking at her. She knew his apologies weren’t about the food. The gravity in his voice said he was sorry because he didn’t know she was there sooner. He was sorry he didn’t come upstairs or to her rescue faster. A tear slipped across her cheek. “It’s okay,” she murmured. “Do you have a bathroom?” She asked.
“I don’t think—”
“Of course,” Harry interrupted hurriedly; she could practically hear the excitement in his voice. Like he was grateful she had a plan because he was a little stuck, a little lost. It made her feel weak immediately. The worry Harry must have felt because of her made her feel guilty and sad. She wanted to fix it and it was hard she felt like she was balancing on a tightrope. She hoped Harry wouldn’t hate her for running the second she had the opportunity. “I’ll lead you,” he offered.
“You just used the bathroom upstairs, honey,” the man reminded her. His voice was tight.
He was going to be mad if she left; that much was evident. “Well, I just—” She started.
“She’s all set, actually. Thank you.”
Harry stared at him. Weighing his options. She could see it. She cleared her throat. “Um...it’s okay,” she whispered quietly. Refusing to look at Harry again. If she did, she was going to blow what little cover she had. Poor Harry. “M’just a little tired,” she assured him, trying to sound braver than she felt.
“S’back and to the left,” Harry murmured and then headed to the next table and explained the short-staffed shift again. She wondered what he was thinking and what he was saying to the table. They looked like regulars, but she wasn’t completely sure because her mind was frazzled. Harry leaving her to fend for herself, even though he was only four feet away at most had her aching for him more than she ever wanted to hold his hand in her whole life.
Harry was losing his mind. He knew she understood his apology for taking so long. He knew that she understood between the lines that he was apologizing for Matteo’s mistake in not telling him sooner. Harry would have been out in the dining room so much faster. As much as it pained him to see her seated across from another man, regardless of the circumstances. It would have been better if she was with another guy in general. At least he wouldn’t be worried sick about her safety.
It took every bit of his strength to keep blowing their cover. To keep from shaking while he told the next table that they were short-staffed. They quietly inquired about the strange man sitting with the sweet girl they all had grown to know as their sometimes-waitress and Harry’s lovely Principessa. He quietly murmured something and then casually bumped into the table dropping the knife near the edge to the floor. As he bent to grab it, he murmured to the guy, pleaded with his eyes as he tried to whisper devoid of emotion. “Do not let her leave with him.”
Harry moved to the next table—strategically he chose the tables that allowed him to keep her in his peripheral. It was killing him. The shaking was becoming uncontrollable, and the whisper beg to the couples, imploring for help from the people he had gotten to know over the years, was getting strangled in his throat as he moved to the third and fourth table.
He was at a loss. The bathroom was a great idea, but he hadn’t a clue as to how to get her from point A to point B. Maybe he could pour hot soup on her, insist she come to the kitchen for help. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to spill their hot soup in her lap either. He supposed he could throw ice cubes in it and make it less horrible on her delicate skin, but he had to do something! His mind was spiraling. He wouldn’t see her in his peripheral in just two more tables and he was already about triple the distance of what he wanted to be from her—granted even an inch of space given the scenario seemed more horrific than he could bear.
He was feeling nauseous. Maybe he should just grab her by the hand and pull her away. But they had a chance to get rid of him. To keep him away from her once and for all. He violated the restraining order. That had to be something. He would have to go away.
Despite the fact she was so close but felt like an entire galaxy away. Harry was crumbling internally. This poor older woman who had been coming in every Saturday for years looked at him with pity in his eyes as he repeated his spiel once more. The agony he felt was in every inch of his bones, every pore of his skin. His eye was twitching.
When he got her safe and out of harm’s way, he planned on never letting go of her. At least not for a few days. He was going to kiss her and hold her. Apologize to her and cook for her. He wasn’t going to let her out of his sight. Harry was going to tell her he loved her and didn’t care if she was stubborn or felt like she was hard to care for because she didn’t like to be needy. He was needy. He needed her. It was killing him to be so close and so far away. So helpless and terrified that he couldn’t help her the way he wanted to right then. Even scared shitless, he thought she was beautiful and brave. So brave. She got here. She got his attention. That had to mean something. She believed in Harry and that he would find her or know she was there despite the frustration and anxiety she felt.
It was hard to believe it was only three minutes since he actually talked to her and apologized for taking so long. Niall came from the back with a plate of garlic bread as promised. Niall was going to come up with the next part of the plan, Harry hoped. Hell, he would go back to the table, feigning exhaustion for apologizing twice. God, he needed to get a bowl of soup, he was going to have to spill it in her lap! It was the only way.
Harry listened intently as Niall arrived at their table. He could almost see the glitter of her tears in her eyes. Nearly crying again at the sight of Niall. He wanted to make a joke more than anything that it had nothing to do with Niall but everything to do with her favorite bread in his hands. But he was mortified. Speechless in front of a table waiting with waited breath as they heard the murmurs and the wisps of what Harry managed to mumble before Niall’s arrival.
“Garlic bread,” he announced, as if she didn’t know. “Buon appetite,” he winked casually. He was far better at lying and acting than Harry or herself combined. She was itching to run. Niall and Harry, both could stop him. Someone would tackle him, right? She was fluttery. Ready to leave as soon as she saw an opening because she didn’t know what else to do. “Can I get you two anything else?” Niall asked kindly.
“I know you,” he said. It lacked suspicion but was no less terrifying.
She could see Harry’s back straightened in her peripheral and his speech silenced. Matteo and the hostess were working from the other end of the room at the same time. Probably explaining the situation to every table as quietly as they could just like Harry was.
Without any tell in sight, Niall merely tilted his head and looked at him. “Hmm...sorry. M’not sure I recognize you,” he shrugged. Niall stepped closer, getting a better look at the man across from her. His acting skills deserved an award.
But in moving closer, Niall also blocked her a good margin from his view. It was her chance. She bolted. Running from the main room and toward the kitchen so fast it took a minute for anyone to realize she was gone. She zipped out the kitchen door, back through the alley, and up to her apartment. She heard a shout coming quickly behind her, so she had to be faster. She hurried back into her apartment unable to do anything but grab her phone off the table and run into the bedroom and hide in the closet, closing the door quietly behind her. She dialed Eleanor. Her heart pounding as she heard the sound of steps. She left the door open to make it look like she ran back out, but it was impossible.
He was already in the apartment. Already tearing through her belongings, shouting, upending her furniture, and rifling through everything.
“Babe?” Eleanor nearly screeched with relief.
“I can’t talk,” she whispered barely an audible octave.
“Okay, okay, I’ll stay on the phone,” she promised. “The police are on their way.”
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grimm-writings · 2 days
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hello! <3 i read your dungeon meshi stuff and it was great!! is it alright if i request some relationship headcanons with chilchuk? preferably with a male s/o, but gn is alright too! thank you sm! i hope you have a good day.
chilchuck relationship headcanons!!
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…ft! chilchuck x m! reader
…tags! fluff, mentions of chilchuck's wife, chilchuck bisexuality crisis, teeny weeny hurt/comfort, talk of marriage, just word vomit tbh
…wc! 1561 (UHM...)
…notes! m! reader food come get it!!!!!!!! thank you for giving me the opportunity to go crazy stupid with this request anon i love chil so much is it obvious yet
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Ok let’s get one thing straight.
(He isn’t.  Haha.)
But!  In all seriousness, Chilchuck has one thing he needs to do before considering a committed relationship.
Yep, even with all the longing glances, late night conversations, and helping each other learn and grow, he has to delay the fruition of your relationship until after everything after the dungeon dies down.
Well… he just needs to talk to his past lover first.  He needs to have a long, long conversation with her, and he’ll be sure to mention you too.
He relays this to you during the great feast privately.  Despite his nervousness, the sigh of relief that escapes him is noticeable.  His shoulders slack and he closes his eyes.  Finally, it’s off his chest.
Before we talk about the actual relationship, though, let’s talk about stuff that happened during the pining phase!  Yay!
Chilchuck only had one flame his entire life, and that was his childhood friend.  He never really ‘dated’, never really had any sort of time to explore his feelings for anyone else.
To put it plainly, he had no idea he was into guys.
“I dunno, Senshi was always kind of handsome,” Chilchuck notes with Laios, and his doppelganger nods in agreement. You and Marcille pause for a second, processing the words the two men said.  Like a house pet that has certain opinions regarding these sorts of people, you side-eye one another. “How would you know that?”  You challenge. In response, one of the Chilchucks glances over at you – the more tired looking one – and he shrugs.  “Not anyone would have the kinda bold look in his eyes he has.  The pinnacle of masculinity,” he huffs with a small grin, as if daydreaming of the very such thing. You have no words.  You quite simply don’t.
It’d be a major “oh FUCK” moment when he does realise.  Honestly the entire realisation of feelings for Chilchuck is Good Medicine but times a billion.
He’s pacing he’s pulling at his hair he’s questioning how the HELL did this happen.
If he has a pillow he is screaming into it more often than he normally does.
If you’re more on the masculine side, or are a dwarf, this man is a right mess around you.
Like he’s stammering constantly and hates himself for it.  Constantly red in the face around you and has to excuse himself.
But like . Not in a gay way or anything.
(Seriously if you think how he avoids his friends is ridiculous, this is eleven times worse.)
It takes some time, but I can imagine there’s a moment in the dungeon where you kissed at least once.
Chilchuck is the one to break away first, his eyes wide and face beet red.  It doesn’t take long for him to take his hands away from where they were, interlaced with yours, to hold his face and drag his skin down in dread. “...Did you like it?”  You nervously ask.  He’s the king of mixed signals… The half-foot nods slowly, still looking like he experienced some form of unwanted enlightenment.  “Yuh–huh,” he squeaks. You smile.  That’s good enough for you.
Marcille definitely picks up on SOME tension though.  She’s oddly observant of that sort of thing.
Once you actually reveal to the party that you’re seeing each other post-canon, Marcille disrespectfully shouts “I KNEW IT!”
As Chilchuck and her have an arguing match about that, you’ll look at Laios who looks shocked.  He had no idea.  Some things never change.
Senshi and Falin are normal and actually just congratulate you.  Give them hugs for me.
BUT FINALLY ONTO ACTUAL RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS!!!!!! (This is like 600 words so far.)
He’s still uneasy about a lot of things.  He has a deep-rooted fear of messing this up again.
When the relationship is established he might distance himself for a bit.  Not on purpose, mind you, he’s just… not sure of what to do, and he’d rather not do anything at all than mess up.
Chilchuck no that in turn is messing up noo!!!!
You’d have to tell him this and he’ll try and turn his behaviour around instantaneously.  He’ll be nervous and frustrated with himself, but take it slow and he’ll come around eventually.
His nicknames are … unique.
He’ll use stuff like “idiot” with the greatest affection in his eyes and a soft grin, but he’ll say “hey handsome” with the most dripping sarcasm and sneer.  Why is he like this—
Play with his strands of grey hair and he’s so flustered, swatting your hand away.  If he’s tired and cuddling into you, though, he… well, he wouldn’t mind it.
Speaking of cuddling!  He didn’t really do much like cuddling in his previous relationship, to your surprise.  He just shrugs and says he and his old flame weren’t that kind of people.
This is how you inadvertently find out Chilchuck is a wombo combo of touch starved and too embarrassed by it to do anything about it.  How does he live…?
He knows himself if you’re not a half-foot that him being a big spoon is too ridiculous of a notion.  Yeah, he immediately assumes he has to be the one spooning you.  He realises with time though that he… drastically prefers being in your arms.  Feeling secure, loved…  He really really likes it.
Not like you can ever get him to admit it verbally.
(You can still see it from how he relaxes into you and smiles as he drifts off into dreamland.)
It’s been a long day, and Chilchuck wants nothing more than to see you.  You look up from where you were sitting when your boyfriend enters the house and smile.  “Good evening, love.” God, your smile.  If he didn’t know he’d be coming home to this, then the work day wouldn’t have been worth it.  He sighs and smiles, walking to you and immediately falling onto your lap.  His face tucks itself into your stomach and his arms wrap around your middle. “Hm, someone’s tired,” you remark with a grin.  Chilchuck merely groans into your form. Sparing him from any teasing, you card your fingers through your hair.  You can already feel how he melts into you as he loses consciousness. You lean down and kiss the shell of his ear.  “Sweet dreams, Chil.”
For a long time, he struggles with actually calling you his boyfriend.  It’s not like he’s ashamed of you, it’s just…  It’s always been “my wife” for such a long time.  He still can’t quite fathom this change in his life.  That you’re his and he’s yours.
Eventually, he’ll be the one to proudly proclaim “my boyfriend!” when he gets the chance to mention you.  He’s quite proud of the fact he’s got you, after all.
His kisses are usually quick and brief pecks on your temple or if he’s not in reach, your hand or shoulder.  
Ugh can you imagine him taking your hand and giving a kiss to the back of it?  And you can feel his thumb ghost over your knuckles reassuringly before wishing you farewell to work?  Dying dead.
Kiss him and he’s always taken aback every time.  He still won’t be able to comprehend it no matter how many times you’ve done it.
(To be slightly on the more suggestive side… really likes making out when in the mood.  He can do that for hours with him on top of you.  Though he wouldn’t mind being underneath if he considers it…)
He daydreams more often than he likes, especially early in the relationship.  He’ll feel ridiculous for it, like some lovestruck schoolboy but… well, yeah, he IS utterly enamoured with you!  Don’t be surprised if you catch him staring at you or checking you out in some way.  Call him out, and he’ll flush with a furrowed brow and glance away.
His love language mostly comes in the form of acts of service.  Although there’s a slight bit of gift giving too.  He likes giving you wordworks or embroidery he made if he knows you like it.  Maybe he’ll make you a teddy or ragdoll if you’re into that!
You also get Chilchuck thinking about the impossible after a while.  He doesn’t try to make a big deal out of it, but it’s kinda hard when…
“I think I can give marriage a second chance,” Chilchuck says out of the blue to you one relaxing night in bed.  His hair is messed up by you burying your head into it, and your lover is tucked into your chest, holding onto your waist. His words certainly catch you off guard, and for once Chilchuck doesn’t make a thing out of being the one to fluster you for once.  Instead, he tucks his nose into your neck and sighs.  “I just…” he pauses for a few seconds.  “I think I can do it right this time.  If you’re here with me.  I think I can do it.” The silence is thick with a kind of tenderness you’d only associate with the colour pink.  It’s deep and you can feel your face glow in the heat. You pull Chilchuck closer and kiss his head. “I’d really like that Chilchuck.  I really would.” He chuckles slightly at the soft sensation, closing his eyes again. “Thank you,” he says, “I mean it.  I couldn’t have made it this far without you.”
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kangnina · 1 day
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hiiia I was wanted ur Ranking on enha on level of unprovoked horniness and whose most likely to act on their horniness idk why I thought of this but- yeah! (also how r u)
I’m super!! Thanks for asking! I hope you are doing well– that everything is flowing smoothly for you and that you’re enjoying your week so far.
I also hope you enjoy my ramblings. It's hard to decide who I think is the most likely to act up unprovoked but here we gooooo…..
Jake: The man is a Scorpio (so am I– we’re passionate lovers, I don’t make the rules, okay?!). He will get turned on by the simplest things either because he loves the person doing the action or the action a person is doing is a trigger for his arousal. You take such good care of him and everything in the little world the two of you have created. You’re washing the dishes and he’s just watching you, your hands are covered in suds as you take great care to make sure that each item is absolutely spotless. Harmless domestic chore, right? Jake is bricked up just thinking about how diligent you are even when it comes to sex. His cock needs that kind of attention. NOW. Before you know it, you’re being railed on the kitchen floor.
Heeseung: I think he’ll try to hold back a little. But if you notice he’s horny and play into it– You’re gonna get it. You lick your finger to turn the page of a book. It’s a habit you’ve never really even thought about until he noticed it. Why is that so hot? The way you swipe your index finger down your slightly extended tongue just makes his cock twitch. He moves closer to you on the couch. Out of the corner of your eyes, you see that mischievous grin he does when he’s being a shameless flirt. But he doesn’t say a word. It’s when you see his mouth twitch as you lick your finger– that’s your revelation. So you have to tease him, right?! Sucking on your finger as you pretend to continue reading. You let out a soft moan and BAM he’s launched your book across the room. Lips on lips. Eager and messy. It’s like he’s trying to eat your face, as he desperately humps your thigh.
Sunghoon: You’re arguing with him about something totally stupid. But he’s already stopped trying to be sincerely logical to win the debate. He just wants to frustrate you a little bit more so he can fuck you. The thing is you’re never big mad at him. Just annoyed with him. He doesn’t ever want to really hurt your feelings or make you truly upset. BUT the sex hits differently when you can’t stand him for a little bit and then you two “make up.” He closes the gap between you as you’re still yapping away. He touches your face and kisses you to shut you up. He picks you up and puts your back against the wall. Between kisses, he’s telling you that you’re 100% right and he’s never thought about it that way. 
Jay: He loves your big brain. He’s trying to work out a situation in his head and he’s running into a wall. You offer assistance. So he runs through the scenarios and you immediately rattle off practical suggestions, with pros and cons. Listening to your thoughtful considerations makes his heart flutter and that makes him want to show you his appreciation for you– with his cock. Once the problem is solved, he pulls you into his arms and kisses you. He thanks you for being so helpful, showering you with compliments and praise as he slowly peels off your clothes. 
Jungwon: When you’re a little mean to him– in a playful way. On a road trip with Wonie. You made him pullover so you could run through a field of wildflowers. He finds it so cute. He wants to take pictures. But you refuse by running off when he points his phone at you. He’s chasing you through the field. When he tackles you, you surprisingly gain the upperhand. You take off running back to the car and lock him out. Once you’ve gotten him to aegyo his way into convincing you to let him in, he unleashes on you– in the best way. Car slightly rocking. Windows fogging. At least you’re in the middle of nowhere when he makes you howl. 
Sunoo: I put him last because despite being a sassy cutie, I think he would get a little shy to act on his unprovoked horniness unless you’re alone together and you really push him into it. He’s trying to figure out what he wants to wear for date night. You’re helping him pick out dress shirts. Your hands graze his neck, you run a hand over his chest, trying to smooth out a wrinkle. All of your tiny, harmless touches are making him a little antsy. He is trying to focus on getting ready because he knows you’ll be late if he doesn’t make up his mind soon. But you notice his slight erection in his dress pants as he assesses himself in the mirror one last time. You don’t say anything about it as announces that he’s ready. When you bend over to strap on your heels, and he takes in the full picture of how hot you look, the internal struggle is real as his erection grows. He offers to help by sitting you on the edge of bed and kneeling at your feet. You lift your legs and put them over his shoulders. Instinctively, he’s kissing your leg… Guess you’ll have to be late for dinner tonight.
…I forgot why I’m here….
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holdmytesseract · 1 day
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Greetings Bestie, I am here with a Magnus blurb request
How about a piece where Magnus realizes he's in love with his partner, and it's at a funny & inappropriate time and place? Like they're in an interrogation or maybe undercover?
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Perfectly Bad Timing
Warnings: fluff, police things, more fluff
Word Count: blurb
a/n: Bestiiie, thank you so much for this! I really hope you're going to like this lil' story! 🥹💖
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Magnus's eyes were glued to you. Something you didn't seem to notice. If the young man across from you and him noticed? Perhaps. Perhaps not. Anyways, the policeman wouldn't care. He always had just eyes for the wonderful woman he gad the honour to call his girlfriend, but today... Today was one of these days on which he got reminded by himself how freaking much he actually loved you.
During an interrogation in the first case Kurt allowed you and Magnus to be leading inspectors was admittedly not exactly the right moment, but what was he supposed to do?
You two worked at the Ystad police station for almost five years together now and he had never... Never seen you interrogate a person. This time was a first - and to Magnus, it was stunning. You were stunning. The way you talked. How you always found the right words to say against the snappy, arrogant and pubescent teenager. Your smart and witty nature...
Magnus would even go as far and say it was dominant, and he couldn't deny that he found that to be pretty hot.
The palm of your hand slamming down on the wooden table everybody sat at, caused the young policeman to snap out of his daydream. At least a little.
"Stop lying to us, Nils. We knew you were at the boathouse. We found your goddamn fingerprints!" You accused the eighteen-year-old across from you. By now you were utterly frustrated and kind of angry. Not just because the disrespectful young man just wouldn't cooperate, no... You were also angry because you already sat inside this constricting, small room for almost an hour and your colleague/boyfriend hadn't said a single word!
You gritted your teeth and slowly turned to face the curly haired man. "Magnus?" He shortly blinked and looked up; oceanic blues meeting your Y/E/C ones. "Yes?" You nodded at the door. "For a word..."
Magnus nodded in agreement; noticed immediately that you weren’t in a good mood. His chair scratched over the polished floor as he stood up and followed you outside in the hallway wordlessly.
You had crossed your arms and waited for him to close the door shut. "Magnus..." You started and took a deep breath; trying not to snap at him right away. Perhaps he had a reason why he didn't say something yet. "We are in there for almost an hour and after five minutes you kind of zoned out completely. Baby, you are absolutely no help! That's shitty. If you're just sitting beside me and staring holes into the wall, I might as well do this alone."
Magnus swallowed hard. You could see his Adam's apple bobbing. And he was blushing. "I-I know, I-" "Then why are you doing it?" You interrupted him. "This isn't working without you! Nils might be the key to solve this case! We can't let this opportunity sl-"
The policeman had heard enough. He knew what this was about. His head told him that repeatedly. But his heart... His heart just wanted one thing... For his lips to kiss you. So, he did.
Magnus interrupted you with his mouth on yours; hands on your hips and pulling you against his body.
You were shocked at first - like frozen, but then you couldn't help but to melt against his touch. Against his sinful kiss.
"Mags..." You panted, once he broke the kiss to get some fresh air into his lungs. "W-What... What was that about?" A boyish smile grazed the curly haired man's face; cheeks reddening. "Me, realising how much I love you, min älskling. I'm sorry for not doing my job, but... All I could focus on, was you."
Your expression softened. He was so cute and kind. How could you possibly be mad at him?
"Aww..." You hugged your boyfriend tightly; burying your hands in his wild, blond curls. "I love you so so much as well." You kissed him again and again and again; the ongoing integration forgotten... At least for a few minutes.
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Tags: @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @multifandom-worlds @jennyggggrrr @huntedmusicgardenn @hisredheadedgoddess28 @stupidthoughtsinwriting @fictive-sl0th @loz-3 @javagirl328 @icytrickster17 @jaidenhawke @eleniblue @lou12346789 @lady-rose-moon @km-ffluv @herdetectivetheorist @lokiforever @crimson25 @simping-for-marvel @cakesandtom @vanilla-daydreaming @kimanne723 @glitchquake @lulubelle814 @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @buttercupcookies-blog @november-rayne @mandywholock1980 @lokidbadguy @smolvenger
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irishmammonagenda · 3 days
Note
Hello! I hope your requests are open 🧚‍♀️
Can i ask, what brothers' reaction would be on MC who sings something like MSI (you know smth like "son of a bitch! God's like me!") or just alternative rock/punk in general?
Answer only if you're okay with that❤️
Have a great day🏃‍♂️
hihi‼️(i love the amount of emojis u use i can feel ur personality through the screen teehee)
i absoluetley can‼️‼️ also tysm for the new music to listen to (im kind of new to alt rock and punk i only really used to listen to MCR lmao😭)
anyway this was fun to write
grma for the ask <3
Obey Me Brothers React to MC Being a Wee Emo.
DISCLAIMER: emo is used as a word because where im from emo is used to describe nearly any type of alternative fashion bc we're all dumb over here app, also im 2% sure pop punk/poprock is emo music bc i think thats what mcr is, so we're going w/ it ig, the only thing ik abt music is that bars 13-20 in the dambusters themetune has fanfare so if i get any terms wrong lmk 😔✊
WARNINGS: There's a slight slight hint of drinks being spiked in Beel's one. nothing ever happens its just him keeping an eye on your drink at a concert just in case.
LUCIFER
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He hears music blasting in the music room in the House of Lamentation.
At first he just sighs, it sounds like the type of music Belphie would listen to when trying to plan out another Anti-Lucifer League. The teenage angst probably helped fuel the seventh born’s desire and motivation to prank him.
He sneaks into the Music room. Technically he just walked in quietly, but you still jumped when you saw him.
"L-Lucifer!! Hiya!!" You say awkwardly, not looking the first born in they eyes. "What's up?" He blinks slowly at you, fighting the urge to place a gloved hand on the bridge of his nose and pinch it in disappointment (and/or second hand embarrassment) "I'm not going to say anything. Just keep it down, MC." He sighs, normally he'd have lectured you. But it reminded him too much of a wolf-cut, guyliner filled past that for the sake of his pride, he did not want to remember.
He wasn't a stranger to musical genres, the man collects records for fuck's sake.
The drums and guitars he can normally get behind. Especially with catchy rhythms.
The lyrics?....they're normally a hit or miss. It really depends on the song.
'God likes me' (MSI) 'Hail Mary, Forgive Me' (PTV) Religious references just kind of ruin some songs for him.
Lucifer spends his time collecting cursed records, but your music taste is a special kind of cursed MC.
Although, he is strangely supportive in his own way.
"MC, Lord Diavolo has gifted me some tickets to concert [small devildom band] is putting on, I thought you would enjoy it."
(Lucifer bought the tickets himself.)
MAMMON
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Haha, Emo!
"Yer a wee emo so ye are, MC"
It's not exactly his style of music (the man listens to Kneecap ffs)
BUT!!! He wants to share things with you dammit! Let him listen to your stupid emo music with you!!! He's your first man!!!
He does, however learn how to play guitar so he can play some simple chords while you sing horrible improvised lyrics with horrible improvised chords.
You don't have the heart to tell him that acoustic guitars aren't normally used in Punk/Rock music.
The sound of horribly improvised chord progressions ring out in your bedroom as you and your first man stand back to back, horrible matching messy eyeliner on both of yours and Mammon's eyes as you hold a hairbrush to your mouth and improvise lyrics. That is, if you can even get them out of your mouth before laughing. "Blood in my body! Because I'm aliveeee!!!" You sing off key while Mammon strums the guitar. "Love in my Bugatti! Because The Great Mammon can drive!" You laugh. Mammon whistles while missing out on the fingering of a chord and then pretending it didn't happen.
LEVIATHAN
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The first thought in this man's mind is karaoke.
He sends you a playlist of Rocky kinda anime openings that you should totally listen to.
He's the least shocked and weirded out, (not that the others are weirded out)
He really likes your singing voice. It doesn't matter if you're a horrible singer, its you so it makes him happy.
You guys could do a duet? If it wasn't too much for you to sing with a stinky smelly otaku like him :(
"Levi-" You sigh, looking at the Levi shaped lump of seaweed in his aquiriam, the demon's tail twitches through the pile of aquatic plant, showing that he's listening. "Levi... Of course I'd love to do Karaoke with you...You didn't give me a chance to answer before jumping into the tank! C'mon!" It takes Levi a few more minutes before he feels ready to leave his seaweed pile, his face is completely red, but there's a small smile on his face as you set up the karaoke machine.
SATAN
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Satan enjoys your music taste.
He likes most if not all human world music because music is so important to culture and he loves learning about human world culture.
What he doesn't like however, is people dropping his name in lyrics for edginess smh.
No MC, no one in Je T'aime is his bitch. Please stop asking.
He also takes you to gigs! Because why not!
The blond haired demon sat in the bar, earning a few looks from the people surrounding them. He stuck out like a sore thumb in his jumper and jeans and the book in his hands in comparision to black denim and leather, chains and sub-cultural clothes that everyone else was wearing. Satan payed it no mind as you came back with the drinks, all decked out in clothing matching the rest of the people in the venue in style. "Hope you weren't waiting long....the lines were long!" Satan takes a drink from your hand and sips it, giving a soft smile, "Not at all."
ASMODEUS
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The music is a hit and miss tbh, he prefers the more pop punk kind of thing, leaning more into pop than anything else.
He likes paramore though!
Loves the clothes associated with the genres and subcultures of the music! Adopts some of it into his own style!
(He alters it heavily, but some designs are inspired by the subcultures)
He could be your adorable gorgeous boyfriend and you could be the wee emo gremlin partner!
The opposites attract will look so cute on his Devilgram.
But he geniunely supports you and your interests, he designs and makes clothes for you in the style associated with your music taste.
He even makes you merch of your favourite bands and albums inspired into clothes.
He also does your makeup before you go out to concerts or gigs
Your his emo after all.
You squirm as Asmo runs his fingers along your flushed skin, he laughs as you jerk away. "It's just a brush, it wont hurt you darling!" He laughs, putting more black eyeshadow onto the makeup brush and applying it---or atleast trying to---to your eyelids, biting back teasing comments as you jerk away. You were ticklish god dammit! It wasn't like you were meaning to! It was a natural reflex!
BEELZEBUB
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He likes it.
but not because he enjoys the music persay. Don't get him wrong he can listen to it and enjoy it but he wouldn't normally seek it out.
He likes it because you and Belphie like it, and the style reminds him of the both of you.
In terms of rock music he likes the more slow ballady types. Belphie normally listens to them when he has trouble falling asleep.
Very supportive.
If you're ever in the Mosh Pit in a concert, Beel will go with you, you're just so tiny and people can push you about! (You're tiny to him. So yes MC, his point still stands.)
Taking that back, if you're at a concert, Beel's probably with you. Unless you're with another brother, Even then, Beel's probably going to come.
Bro is like your own bodyguard.
Reports to Lucifer when at concerts and makes sure you're not taking any illegal substances, you don't know what's in them MC!
He makes sure nothing is put in your drink either.
He just wants to keep you safe :(
Beel had been staring at the cup in your hands back and forth for a while now, you smile and offer it up to him. "Want a sip, Beelie? You've been staring at my drink a lot" You practically shout over the music. You weren't in the mosh pit, and though you stood a good distance away, the music was still loud. Beel shakes his head, pointing to his pint and smiling his closed eye smile, "No thanks, MC. I'm just making sure you're staying hydrated and don't need refills." He says truthfully, though that truth isn't whole. You grin, "Aww...that's so sweet!" Turning your attention away from him and back to the stage, Beel wraps an arm around your waist. Eyes alert and wary when someone so much as walked past, or a crowd member got a little too close while dancing. He was overprotective and cautious. But you deserved to be safe.
BELPHEGOR
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Give him back his albums what the actual fuck.
Look just because he takes your life it doesn't mean you get to take his music taste.
Wowwww. Petty.
Fine, you can borrow his limited edition special cut vinyls.
What? Lucifer's not the only one with a record collection.
He did not get this idea from Lucifer, No you Liar.
He did.
Belphie listens to rock ballads to get to sleep when he has trouble sleeping and when he wants to.
Sometimes when you nap together he puts some on.
It's kind of like a white noise machine.
Will go to concerts with you and Beel, but has to have slept for atleast 2 whole days leading up to it so people don't think he's passed out in the crowd.
Mention any similarites about his little music vinyl collections to Lucifer's cursed record selections he will not let you borrow any for atleast 3 days.
Long before Eve bit the apple and the brother's wings turnt black, a small boy with indigo hair wakes up from a nap, pouty lips wobbling when he realises his twin is nowhere to be found. Belphie sniffles, but doesn't break into tears. He's a big boy now! Big boys don't cry when they miss their twins! Beel was probably out on a walk with Michael and Lilith in her stroller! He'd come back! But still, Belphie's bottom lip trembled, eyes watering, the little boy didn't like being seperated from his twin! He was about to cry when he heard loud music coming from a room down the hall. More curious than anything, Belphie gets off of his bed, and (taking his teddy bear with him) walks down the hall following the sound. Though his walk was more of a waddle with his tiny legs. He'd never heard anything like it before! When Beel got back he could tell him about his discovery! Soon enough he reaches a slightly cracked open door and the music is super loud here. This must be it! Waddling into the room, Belphie could see a figure laying spread eagle on one of the beds. Half of the room decorated in colour with one bed and the half of the room with the person laying on the bed was almost completely in black with a bunch of posters on the walls. Most importantly, on the floor lay a box with a spinny thing spinning that seemed to be playing the sounds! Belphie held his teddy in one hand and lifted up the thing that was running across the big black circle. Immediately the sound stopped and the figure sat up, with layered dark shoulder length hair, layered dark black white and red clothes, and enough eyeliner to paint the colourful bright half of the room pitch black. A teen Lucifer looks down at Belphie with a sour expression, upset his mope session had been interrupted. "What are you doing here?" He asks the small indigo-haired angel. Belphie looks up at him with wide, sparkling eyes before pointing to the record player. "Why's it makin' sound? There's no choir in there...." Lucifer's eyes soften. His mope session about meeting the demon prince, not hating him, and finding him pretty like the human he met down in the human world could wait. "It's a record player, Belphs." The teenager's too emo, the end is nigh, everything sucks, too cool for love and affection persona drops and reveals his softie interior. Lucifer picks up his younger brother and places him on his bed as he takes out the record that was playing in the record player and putting on one that would be much less intimidating for someone as young as Belphie. He sits back onto the bed and the small boy cuddles up to his big brother, ever the affectionate child. As the record plays on Belphie grins up at Lucifer, revealling one missing front tooth. He had lost them early, shortly after Beel's tooth had fallen out. Lucifer grinned too, suppressing a chuckle at how Beel hadn't even realised his tooth was wobbly until he bit into his breakfast and found his tooth lodged into the food. "Luci! I likes this music!" "Do you?" "Mhm!" Lucifer grins, petting his youngest brother's head. "I'll tell you what. For your birthday I'll get you your very own record player and lend you some vinyls, we can even go to the human world and pick some new ones out. I'll show you how to play them when you have them, okay?" "Okay! Thank you Luci!" After a while, the songs change from high energy into ballads, Belphie's eyes grow heavier, as do his big brother's. Belphie curled up into the elder's side, abandoning his teddy bear for grabbing at the fabric of Lucifer's shirt with tiny grubby hands as he nodded off. Lucifer made sure to try not to move, in result of the slow rock ballad music and staying completely still so not to jostle and wake up his youngest brother who would 100% get cranky if woken. Slowly, Lucifer's eyes start to close, and he falls into a soft slumber as well.
And hey, if Michael returned from his walk, and after leaving Beel and Lilith into a play room went to check in on Lucifer and saw that sight; and then proceeded to grin and take multiple photos of said sight from multiple angles to use as blackmail on his little emo twin brother Lucikins on a later occassion, then that was Michael’s business and Michael’s business alone. And Lucifer's business when Michael didn't want to do the dishes when it was his night to do them, of course.
But if you ask, Belphie'll tell you that visiting the human world is what got him interested in that type of music.
Because he's a stinky smelly little liar and should be locked up in an attic.
On a side note he bullies you for being 'emo' :(
Bro is such a hypocrite.
But to be geniune, Belphie loves that he can share his music with you. He's happy you can bond over this with him.
Not that he'd ever outright tell you.
But you can tell in the way he gives you albums and vinyls as gifts, and makes you little playlists of ballads to sleep to. (He's gotten you into the habit smh.)
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stave-writes · 8 hours
Text
Scruffy! (Various Dungeon Meshi Men x GN!Reader)
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Summary: Your boyfriend really needs a trim of his stubble, and he's asked for your help :)
Word Count: 1711
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Laios Touden
We all know Laios does NOT like being scruffy, especially when Falin tells him he looks like their father. So, it's a lovely thing when he asks you to look after him and help him shave.
Laios had been a little finicky lately, ever since leaving the dungeon he was a lot more conscious about himself. Mainly, his appearance. Rubbing at his new stubble and brushing his blonde hair that had grown out in places. Irritation was plainly visible each time he felt the slight scratch of stubble against his fingers, even a slight huff to his tone afterwards. "Hey, could I ask a favour?" was his innocuous question, head tilting back over the edge of your sofa. After an inquisitive sound of acknowledgement from you, a slight smile rose on Laios's face. "Mind helping me shave? I also want to cut my hair but can't see the back."
This is how you ended up sitting on the edge of your tub, scissors working away at the tufts of hair against the nape of his neck. Each little brush of your fingers against his skin caused a small giggle or shuffle from Laios, if he were a dog, his tail would be smacking against your leg so hard it'd hurt a little. A smile was visible on his lips every time you'd lean over to peek at him, and he'd look up at you eyes full of love.
"Did you know that tons of monster species use grooming as a form of intimacy?" Of course, you did, you're dating Laios Touden, if you didn't you'd have amnesia. Instead of an eye roll, you gave a little smile and nod.
Reaching his hand up, a pat against your leg was a signal he hadn't just passed out between your knees while you worked at giving him the cut he liked. A quick kiss pressed to your lips was a thankful gesture, nuzzling into your face before moving to work on shaving his stubble to save you from the beard scratches.
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Chilchuck Tims
I see Chilchuck as the type of guy to have some time dedicated to a little self-care, although shaving isn't a big problem considering the half-footer's ageing span. But! His hair does still grow, so some help may be needed there.
It'd been a week since Chilchuck asked you to remind him to go get a haircut, and he still hadn't gone despite your near-constant reminders. Post-its on the counter, on his lockpicking tools, hell you once stuck one on his face for him to see in the mirror. At this point, it was getting ridiculous that he hadn't even gone to try and get it done.
"You're going to cut my hair...? I can just go get it done in town-" He huffed a little at you, rubbing at the back of his neck with a small frown. Your adamance had his stubbornness outweighed almost tenfold, so you rolled up a stool behind his chair and began to figure out how to trim his hair.
Hair was scattered everywhere by the time you were done, and Chilchuck's ego was only a little bruised by the number of grey hairs you saw while trimming it. He didn't seem to mind it too much though, the presence of a wagging tail that was usually hidden away under his clothing batting at your leg. At least his hair was finally trimmed, and a thankful kiss was pressed to your knuckles as you got up to sweep away the leftover hair.
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Senshi of Izganda
Senshi doesn't particularly care for shaving or even washing his beard but knowing the kind of bacteria facial hair can carry (and after a lecture from Marcille) he's willing to have you help him with that beard the size of Cousin It from the Addams Family.
"Ah, I suppose Marcille's nagging finally got to me, that's all. I hope you don't mind helping me wash my beard, it'll take a while." Senshi muttered slightly, looking aside as he asked you for just a little favour. It was hard to ask such a thing from you, especially with how much you'd done already for him by just being with him. He felt absurdly lucky when you agreed, setting his helmet and upper armour aside to clean off his beard and hair.
It was a nicer experience than usual having a loving touch working at his hair first to wet it, then lather it and working slowly to get all the dirt out. It took a long long time to finish the first round of washing the hair and beard, alongside the several other scrubbing and washing rounds. It was an intensive process, but being able to smell clearly the soap in his hair was a good bonus, alongside the lack of a helmet.
Letting him dry for a few hours was the best idea you'd had this entire time, able to bury your face against the wall of fluff you called Senshi for a long while. The smell was great and the warmth was greater, you could've honestly slept there if you wanted. But, you had a plan! Readying a comb, boar bristle brush and your sanity, you began braiding Senshi's hair into long thick plaits and tying them off once you were done. It was tenuous but an enjoyable closeness, as you pressed your face into his back slightly. You couldn't help but marvel at your work when you were all done. The happy expression on your face made it hard for Senshi to resist placing a kiss on the crown of your head, a soft look in his eyes.
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Toshiro Nakamoto
A large part of the teachings Toshiro lives by is to exist as a convenience to others, not asking much and not putting his needs in the forefront. So, when Toshiro comes to you asking for help looking after himself? It's a sign of trust. He knows you.
"You...would you help me?" Toshiro's voice is quiet and soft as he addresses you, a slight crease in his brow as he looks towards you. It's hard to be vulnerable around you even if you're adamant in your love for him. Even as you assure him it's not a bother to help him and that you're here for him, it's still... nerve-wracking. It's hard for him to settle himself as he eventually moves first to sit down on your bed, having you brush out his hair and praise the length and colour of his locks, he's still worried.
He's guided towards your bath and urged to get into the warm water, leaning his head back so you can scrub away any remaining dirt and eventually, he peeks an eye open to see your face as you work at making sure he's sparkling clean. The slight furrow in your brow, your intense posture and a huff finally as you finish cleaning his hair. He can't help but smile at your effort to look after him especially as Toshiro can feel the exhaustion melt away at your careful consideration of him.
Before he knew it, he was basically asleep in your tub, head leant back with your fingers working at his hair and scalp. The feeling of safety was all he needed from you. When it was done, he dried off and changed into some comfortable clothes he'd left with you before curling up beneath your duvet, head resting into the crook of your neck.
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Mithrun of the House of Kerensil
Mithrun struggles with self-care due to his lack of desires and is used to being looked after by others. With you, though, it was different. Your touch was imbued with love, and you didn't choose to look after him because someone ordered you to, just...because you wanted to see him cared for.
Looking after Mithrun sometimes could be a lot, making sure he ate and bathed and slept all while making sure he kept his mana up enough for his work with the canaries. So, it'd been easier to devise a schedule for all the things that would need to be done by day and then by week. Three baths a week, each one day apart. Three meals a day, four hours apart except for dinner which was at 6pm on the dot. A good schedule helped you and Mithrun look after yourselves, but you hadn't quite yet accounted for trimming his hair.
It had gotten longer than you had thought before you remembered to check the length of his hair, playing with the silver locks that framed his face and moved to cover his false eye a little. With a slight curl at the ends and parted just along the side, it was an easy style to maintain, especially for someone so consistently fatigued. So, when it came time to trim it down, an afternoon was allocated and Mithrun was given a book to entertain him while you worked.
On the floor, resting on a pillow was the middle-aged elf who you were looking after. Tilting his head forward a little, you brushed through those light-coloured locks and parted them into smaller sections before taking them between your middle and pointer finger, working to even it out and take a little length off. This process was repeated for each section of hair, fingers lightly brushing his face at one point which caused a little startled jump to come from Mithrun, looking at you with his good eye almost inquisitively. In the end, though, you finished off trimming it all quite quickly, evening it all out and even taking some longer strands from the front and braiding them like he'd done when he was much younger...before the dungeon.
Even if it was hard to see, a little smile played on his lips as he embraced your touches, leaning back after you proudly announced you were done. His face squished into your thigh, a little bump of his against you like a cat trying to get their owner's attention. Taking advantage of your curiosity at this action, your hand was brought to his face and he snuggled into it slightly, enjoying the reaction it spurred from you. He may not desire much, but he knows how to love you.
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