#you know. like the stew!!! throwing it in the face instead of eating. using it wrong to get a thrill.

[sunnykeysmash]

the structure in mac and dennis break up

this is gonna be a short post tbh, I just rewatched the episode and I have a couple of thoughts.

if you need a refresher on what I think the structure is in general, I talk about it here.

I think Mac and Dennis Break Up shows us an example of Mac and Dennis (and Charlie and Frank) working properly in regards to the structure, let me explain why:

First... I don't think there's a need for me to describe the plot of the episode, we all know.

What I want to focus on, is that at one point Mac moves in with Frank and Charlie, and starts bringing his way of life to them.

At first, Frank is thrilled.

"I could use a little structure in my life here." he says.

This reminds me of dialogue from Carries a Corpse.

"Nobody admit this to Mac, but... I feel like he was carrying a ton of weight."

"That would be another one of his annoying identities... the man who could carry stuff."

He's been shown carrying Dennis, on top of generally being inclined to micromanage, take care of others so they're safe, and make decisions or at least demand to be consulted in them (like which movie to watch on movie night).

That's when Mac works best, so I assume that Mac generally brings structure (or is a man of action, as he describes it).

Later on, we see Mac take this too far, and Frank doesn't like it anymore. To me, this is because what this episode tells us is that Charlie and Frank don't work well with a set structure, the way that Mac provides. They're more free.

I think this reading is important because it shows me why The Gang Gets Romantic fundamentally fails in its objective (not as an episode god forbid, I mean in the narrative, especially for Mac and Dennis).

It applies the romcom structure to Charlie and Frank, while it doesn't to Mac and Dennis, when it should be the opposite. Throughout the episode we see that Mac and Dennis keep fitting the tropes to the romcom structure, but they refuse to follow it, and thus it crumbles. It can't work.

Here's another thing.

Dennis' back broke in the S15 finale.

That is funny, yes, but what does this mean when I say that Mac is the (his) structure, then?

Well... Carries a Corpse implies that Mac was carrying most of the weight of the corpse, and the corpse is meant to be the show... and most show meta is basically the same as Dennis meta (most meta lines seem to relate to him, whether the fact he left for north dakota and came back, or the fact he's a dad, being between life and death, breaking his back aka the structure, and so on), as I have discussed better in my other post.

Point being, Mac carries Dennis. That's what he's meant to do, and what he does best in their relationship.

This makes me think of another recent scene that I think is emblematic of their dynamic... but in an interesting way.

So, in 2020: a Year in Review, Mac and Dennis work together on a song.

They seem to be in harmony, but eventually start disagreeing and stop altogether to focus on something else. Why?

Because Dennis is working on the backup vocals, and Mac is working on the words. Which means their roles are reversed. Mac is supposed to be carrying the song, like the wind beneath his wings that he is, and Dennis, like the man of words that he is, should be responsible for the lyrics. They're doing each other's job, which means any harmony they reach is still bound to crack a bit the moment the song doesn't work for them.

Their seating position on their sofa reflects this.

Compare it to Mac and Dennis Break Up, which is supposed to be our ideal.

They're in each other's places, in 2020.

This isn't new, they've been sitting in each other's places ever since Break Up. Mac was sitting in Dennis' place in MFHP, Dennis was sitting in Mac's place in Gets Romantic.

So tl;dr... Mac and Dennis work well under structure, when Mac is the one to bring it and carry Dennis. They fit a proper couple structure after all. Charlie and Frank don't work as well under structure, since their relationship is more unique and doesn't quite abide by normal rules because of that.

This does bring me to one last consideration though...

They're back in their right spots, in season 16! Only problem is... couch is different. I would argue an inflatable couch doesn't offer the same amount of support (structure) that a normal one would...

Now that Dennis' structural essence broke, is he gonna feel what it's like when Mac is absent?

Perhaps this is why in Cursed we get Mac as the lucky one while the others as so unlucky they start to believe they're cursed (according to the synopsis...).

So the whole gang needs Mac?

Well...

In Goes To Hell pt2, when they build the human pyramid, it's both Mac and Dennis that end up at the bottom, as its structure.

So maybe... Dennis needs Mac as his structure, and the gang needs them to be in sync so they can both, together, support them (or shut the hell up about it, as both madbu and s15 would argue). Maybe this realization could be what brings the gang to work together in order to get them together. But that's getting into just speculation so imma end it here.

I like these thoughts though... Mac and Dennis being the foundation, the structure of the whole thing :)

#iasip #it's always sunny in philadelphia #s16 spoilers #always sunny #macdennis #macden #analysis #meta #this is as good as ''mac is the rat dennis is the cheese and together they're the trap of macdennis'' #i do love building meta off of other meta that i pre-established... makes me feel like im citing my own research papers #if this only makes sense to me im so sorry my bad. it will happen again #this was born as a twitter thread while i rewatched madbu and things started making a bit too much sense so i had to write about it #i think if by the end of inflates they go back to their normal couch thats like golden sign that macden is going canon #cuz they maybe start experimenting different couches and none of them work for them. so they start blowing them all up #you know. like the stew!!! throwing it in the face instead of eating. using it wrong to get a thrill. #but by the end theyre like... no actually. our old one worked the best. for us. it worked. it supported us right #not flimsy like an inflatable couch is #so mark my words. if by the end of inflates we see macden sitting AT THEIR RIGHT SPOTS with THE RIGHT COUCH mirroring madbu... #then macdennis is gonna happen. period #dennis is gonna figure out that mac is his structure and theyre gonna go back. together. at the BOTTOM of the gang pyramid #getting pissed on together<3 like meerkats #dennis ''i aint goin down'' reynolds when hes destined to be part of the structural support and thus has to go down and stay down #dedicating this post to parker and joe they'll know what i mean #dennis reynolds #mac mcdonalds

[prahacat]

theory on the fluidity of minds and souls

The first three acts of Asajj’s life. A how-to on finding yourself. Experimental prose, 1k words | Read on ao3

How to be a Jedi

(1) Don’t listen to the old man.

(2) Child, he says, don’t cry. Here on Rattatak, we are Jedi the best we can. Here’s how to be a temple to each other: brush the red dust from your face before you go to sleep. Brush the dust from his face too. Share the dirty water without flinching, like trusting him comes natural and easy to you. Teach him what to eat, cook for him stews of insects and herbs and if he won’t eat those, tell him you’re sorry, this is all you have. This is all anyone has. Sit and guard the fire while he sleeps; trust him to guard you while you do the same. When you move up north, don’t light a fire at night so the warlords won’t spot you.

(3) Learn to be kind.

(4) When they kill him

don’t rage

don’t rage

grieve

but don’t rage, don’t let it consume you

How to be a Sith

(1) Don’t listen to the old man.

(2) All men are liars. So are the women, so is everyone, but the men are more dangerous to you, especially the older ones. Never let him know (he knows anyway). Forget. Never look back. Don’t cry when he throws lightning at you; when you’re alone again, press your fingers against your temples to relieve the headache. Make the silence your friend. Ask questions, but don’t ask too many or the wrong ones; his anger will teach you which are the wrong ones. Watch out for his anger, but learn to watch out for his sharp-edged smiles too. If he offers you food or a weapon, take it; if he gives you a name, hunt them down. If he offers you a glass of wine, sit and drink and look for the lesson: which tool is he trying to shape you into? A blade, a shadow, a shield, a smoke bomb? Be grateful for what you have because he is offering you more power than he offered anyone else, because he thinks you can take the lessons and not fail, the way so many others did.

So this is how you will live: be wary of cups you haven’t filled yourself. Hide daggers everywhere: in your boots, under the folded cloak you use as a makeshift pillow, in your dreams. Keep the holoproj next to your bedroll, make sure it’s always charged, make sure it’s never muted. Here’s a list of essential things you need to have at hand at all times: spare energy cores for your saber, medpacs and bactaspray, stimcaf and sleeptabs, protein wafers in an osmosis pack in case you can’t swallow anything. It’s better not to stare at the stars for too long when you’re traveling. Navigation is all they’re good for. Be grateful for what you have. It’s really all you need: a place for the pain to go and a place to come home to. It doesn’t matter if they’re the same place, and if one day you should catch him pressing his fingers against his temples, pretend you didn’t see. Go skewer some boys instead. There’s that Jedi again: flirt, tease, smile at him with your dewberry-colored lips and painted eyes, so he knows you want to be here, you enjoy what you are. And if you suspect or know that he too has a list of essential things, and that his list is the same as yours, the same as everyone’s these days, don’t let on.

(3) Never forget to hate yourself.

(4) Don’t fall for the blade, it’s not your friend; it will take away everything you own. It’s very simple. He won’t protect you. You can’t protect them. Always expect betrayal; always expect loss.

And when that day comes

—it will inevitably come—

remember your grief and how it was a dull, useless knife to you.

How to be a ???

How to figure out what who you are

(1) Stay alone.

(2) Boil the water before you use it for soup. Strain it and collect the pulp, the gritty dark things you don’t know how to name. Everything tastes like ashes and dust, that’s all you know. Buy some soap and scrub your hands. If you wake with a start in the middle of the night, pressure crushing your chest and your breathing quick and ragged in the quiet of your room, remember to inhale, count to four, exhale, count to four. Lie still and watch the darkness shed from the light. In the morning, roam the markets, buy something against the headache, something to hide your face, something to scrub your hands. When you walk through the streets, pull your hood low. Tell the spice dealers to leave you alone, always stop after one glass of whiskey, tell the men at the corner to fuck off. There will be days when you wake in unfamiliar places; at least try not to have two of them in a row if you can help it. Watch the sunrise. Tell no-one about your past (they know anyway; probably). Always expect betrayal, always expect loss. Forget. Never look back.

(3) Learn to be kind again.

(4) Get some credits, buy a saber; any saber you can find, as long as it’s still alive. Hold it in your hand, gently, feel the worn hilt that has passed through other hands. Were they cruel? Were they kind? Maybe. Did they protect, did they kill? Who knows. It doesn’t matter to you.

Here’s what you need to do to make this saber yours:

calibrate the focusing ring, install a strong core, toss away the parts you don’t need, polish the metal often, swing the saber daily, trust your hand again, close your eyes, listen, be patient, feel how your crystal talks to you, feel it resonate, feel it hum, learn a new language.

Yellow is a good color.

It’s going to take a long time.

#asajj ventress #ventress #star wars fanfiction #pls help me i'm so emotional abt her. i had to write something #no tbb spoilers here #unless you didn't know about the saber #my ff #prahacat writes

[justcallmefox89]

Campfire Stories

Cal, Lia, and Rolan join Drakul and the others for a meal, the others learn more about Drakul than they bargained for.

TW: Drow being drow - fantasy racism, classism, murder-hobo tendencies.

I watch Rolan stomp away from his siblings, grinning at the agitated lashing of his tail and admiring the shape of his firm, tight-

“Stop that,” Gale commands, flicking the tip of one of my ears.

“Ow!”  I swat his hand away with a scowl. 

“Serves you right,” he says primly, fixing me with a disapproving stare. 

“I didn’t do anything!” I protest.

“I know exactly what you’re thinking,” Gale lectures, sounding so much like my mother it’s uncanny.  “And you need to leave that boy alone.”

“If you had even the faintest idea what I’m currently thinking, you’d be blushing wizard,” I purr, running my thumb over my lower lip.

“You… you…” Gale stammers momentarily then snaps his mouth closed and settles for giving me a dirty look. 

Astarion saunters back to us, closely followed by Karlach.  “Oh… did you break the wizard again, Drakul?  I was hoping to watch this time.”

“Karlach, my darling!  Gale was being dreadfully horrible to me while you were gone,” I pout and dramatically gesture to the reddened tip of my ear.  “And he flicked me!”

She snickers and nudges me away with the butt of her battle-axe.  “I’m sure you deserved every second of it.”

“He most assuredly did,” Gale assures her.  “Honestly Drakul, you’re even older than Astarion and you act like a child.”

“Hey!” Astarion and I shout in unison, twin images of outrage.

“Is now a bad time?”

The four of us whirl around to see Cal and Lia watching us with faintly bemused smiles on their faces.

Gale recovers first.  “Is there something we can help you with?”

“Oh gods,” Astarion groans.  “Stop offering to help every person we meet.”

“Actually… we wanted to invite you to have dinner with us,” Cal answers.

“We heard how you helped Arabella and Mirkon and we just wanted to do something to thank you,” Lia adds.

We aided some common children and now I get an invitation to dine with Rolan?  Maybe there is something to this whole ‘helping’ nonsense Gale bathers on about…

I am struck by a brilliant idea.

“You should come dine with us at our camp instead,” I blurt out. 

Cal and Lia exchange hesitant glances.  “Are you sure?” she asks.

“Absolutely.”  I throw my arm around Gale’s shoulders and gift them with my most charming smile.  “The human loves to cook.  It will be no trouble at all.”

“Then we’ll see you at sundown.”

“See you then!” I call after them as they take their leave.

“A child…” Gale mutters.  “An overgrown, xenophobic, murderous child.”

True to their word Cal and Lia arrive at our camp right at sundown, a clearly reluctant Rolan trudging a few steps behind them.  Pleasantries are exchanged as Gale and Wyll put the finishing touches on the evening meal, and Scratch circulates through everyone, gathering scritches and pets as he goes.  Soon enough Gale begins to dish out bowls of stew and everyone starts to settle around the campfire to eat.

“Rolan,” I say, just loud enough to get his attention, and tap the space next to me with one finger.

He hesitates, turning to go sit next to his brother and sister.  I clear my throat and tap the spot again with a touch more force.  He waffles for only a second longer before relenting sitting down on the log next to me. 

“Thank you,” I whisper, pressing my shoulder against his. 

Rolan grunts irritably but leans into my touch, so I take advantage of the moment and turn my head to take quick whiff of his hair.  I inhale deeply, taking in the scents of old books, ink, and candlewax. 

Of course.

I’ve only known the wizard for a scant amount of time, but I’m not surprised that these are the scents that make up Rolan.

“What are you doing?” he hisses, pulling away from me.

I begin to reply but get distracted when I realize Gale has forgotten to dish up a bowl of stew for one of our party members.  “Wizard!”

Gale pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.  “Oh for the love of…”

“He’s hungry!” I insist.

“Do not indulge him,” Lae’zel orders.

“My minion demands food!”

“What the hells is going on?” Lia whispers to Karlach.

Gale dishes out one last small portion of stew and sets the bowl at my feet.  Appeased, my newest underling slinks out of my tent and pads over to the campfire.

“It’s a cat,” Rolan says, slightly stunned.

“His name is Varyyn,” I say proudly.  The cat lets out an indignant mrrp as I sweep him up into my arms to show him off to the tiefling siblings.  He’s a fat little thing with orange and white stripes, he drools when he sleeps, and one eye blinks slower than the other but I’ve decided to claim him anyway.

“Where on earth did you find that thing?” Rolan asks as Lia coos and scratches under Varyyn’s chin.

“He followed us back from that abandoned village,” I reply, nodding in a vaguely westerly direction.

Varyyn begins to yowl in earnest so I release him, and he immediately pounces on his portion of stew.

“Shadowheart says we can’t keep him when we move on -”

“We are not keeping the cat,” Shadowheart says, giving me a stern look.

“I’m keeping the cat,” I rebelliously whisper to Rolan, secretly thrilled when he gives me a small smile.

“Did you have many pets growing up, Drakul?” Lia asks.

I take a bite of stew, sucking thoughtfully on my spoon as I consider the question.  Rolan’s eyes track the motion of my lips, but he quickly looks away when I catch him watching.

“Mother allowed me a dire bat as a flying steed once I passed the Test of Lolth,” I answer.

“Truly?” Cal’s eyes are as wide as saucers.

“Fallon is a hideous, stubborn beast,” I say fondly, smiling at the thought of the giant bat.  “It took ages to get him accustomed to the bit and bridle… the trainer was going through two or three children a week for months.”

My smile fades as I notice that everyone – with the exception of Lae’zel and Astarion- has stopped eating.

“What?” I ask.  “What’s wrong?”

“You fed children to your dire bat?” Rolan looks positively green.

“Oh!  Of course not, silly.”  I pat his thigh reassuringly.  “They were the riders.  Fallon needed to get used to carrying someone and there are so very many commoner children in Menzoberranzen.  When one fell to his death the trainer would just pluck another from the masses.  I was never allowed a darthiir like my sisters were though…”

“I am almost afraid to ask,” Gale mumbles.  “A darthiir?”

“Yes,” I nod and gesture towards Astarion.  “You know… like him.  Darthiir.”

“People?” Lia squeaks.  “Your sisters kept people as pets?”

I frown.  “No, not people.  Elves.”

“So they were slaves then.”  Karlach scowls at me.

“Oh no, my sisters’ darthiir were treated much better than our slaves,” I assure her.

“My gods.”  Rolan nearly chokes on his bite of stew.

“Darling, if you keep talking I will kill you,” Astarion says, eyeing me calmy from across the campfire.

I smirk.  “You would try,” I retort, already reaching for the dagger hidden at the small of my back.

“Alright boys, you’re both pretty.”  Karlach glares at both of us.  “Now pull your claws back in.”

“I would kill him,” I whisper reassuringly to Rolan.

“Of course you would.”

I turn, ready to reprimand him for his patronizing tone, but stay silent when I notice the tiny smile on his lips. 

“You mentioned you had sisters, Drakul?” Cal asks, trying to fill the awkward silence.

I nod, finishing my list bite of stew.  “Seven sisters; six younger and my twin, K’tarai.”

Cal nudges Lia with his elbow and laughs.  “If they’re anything like this one I don’t envy you,” he jokes.

“I doubt they are,” I muse, pondering my sisters’ personalities.  “K’tarai ordered her first execution at the age of six, and Catriona attempted to assassinate our mother when she was just fourteen.  Mother survived though!” I reassure my companions, noticing their shocked looks.

“New rule!” Gale announces, clapping his hands.  “No more asking Drakul about his life.”

I frown at the others’ ready agreement.  “But I am fascinating.”

Rolan smothers a giggle behind his hand, and I don’t have the heart to be cross with him.

“Take a walk with me,” I murmur in his ear, gently stroking my hand up and down his spine.

He shivers under my touch.  “I don’t think -”

“Walk with me, my wizard,” I repeat.  “I’m selfish… allow me to steal you away from the others for just a short while.”

Rolan nods shyly in agreement and sets aside his empty bowl.  I stand first and offer him my hand, helping him to his feet.  We sneak away while the others are absorbed in conversation, and are almost to freedom when Gale catches the sleeve of my tunic. 

He tugs, urging me to bend low, and whispers in my ear.  “Step carefully, Drakul.  That lad doesn’t understand the game you are playing.”

I glance over at Rolan as he waits for me, anxiously twisting the fabric of his robes in his hands.  I don’t know what it is about this antagonistic and guarded tiefling, but for the first time in my life the cruel and manipulative games of my home hold no appeal.  I only feel the urge to cosset... to cherish... to protect.... to make him delirious with pleasure.

“As you say, Gale,” I assure him.

I quickly rejoin Rolan and offer him my arm, as if I am still in Menzoberranzen and he is a potential suitor.  He flushes a deep burgundy and hesitates, but soon enough his fingers wrap around my forearm, sending a thrill shooting through me.

“Shall we?”

#bg3 #bg3 tav #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #tav oc #baldurs gate tav #tav #my tav #baldurs gate 3 #karlach #bg3 oc #tav bg3 #baldurs gate 3 tav #male tav #drow tav #paladin tav #bg3 drow #drow oc #drow #drow bg3 #gale #baldurs gate gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 karlach #baldurs gate karlach #holy rolan empire #baldurs gate rolan #bg3 rolan #rolan

[mammalsofaction]

Those Moments When We Didn't Get Along

Rating: G

Relationship: Heinz Doofenshmirtz/Perry the Platypus

Add tags: Human Perry, mute Perry, POV Outsider, the whole Flynn-Fletcher family, set during the breakup scene from About Time.

A/N: The lore behind Perry and Lawrence's relationship is in compliance with the Human Perry Lore post I've made a while back here. Perry's sister, Lawrence's ex-wife, was named Evelyn, AKA Agent Eve the Echidna. (Get it, egg laying mammals native to Australia?)

Now read it on Ao3!

"Perry?" Lawrence calls out, knocking on his door. The room is dark, unlit, but the answering churr is unmistakable. He sounds...

"Are you alright, dear boy?" This time, an indecipherable grunt. "Linda sent me up to tell you dinner's ready. May I come in?"

When he hears no response, which is as good of an answer on its own, he pushes the door to let himself inside, and instinctively reaches for the light switch.

Perry's face down on the bed, still partly dressed in his teal work clothes. He doesn't flinch.

"My word, old boy, what's happened?" Lawrence demands, mildly alarmed. Perry bats his hands away when he plops himself down next to him on the mattress, shoving at his shoulder, but he does it without twisting himself around. "Don't be like that, let me look at you. Perry. What's gotten into you?"

Then he hears it. The unmistakable sniffle.

Lawrence gapes. "Have you just broken up with someone?"

It was an educated guess, but the way Perry leaps up to slap at his face all but confirms it. Lawrence supposed he had said it too loudly considering the kind of household they're in. He could swear Candace's hearing could be supersonic sometimes. "We didn't even know you were dating anybody," Lawrence chides, half despairing. Perry tries to plop back down into bed, and Lawrence doesn't let him. Going so far as to physically set himself between Perry and the miserably crumpled mattress so his foster-cum-brother-in-law was throwing himself into his embrace instead.

Lawrence pats Perry's back, commiserating. Perry's buried his face in the crook of Lawrence's throat. He hadn't gotten more than a glance at Perry's face, but what he's seen has practically torn his heart apart; nothing but swollen eyes and visible tear tracks. "What happened?" He asks again, helplessly. "Will you tell me?"

Lawrence half-expects being ignored. Both of them knew that Lawrence knew, at least partially, the hidden truth of Perry's career, but it wasn't from anything Perry ever tells him in person. There are some unmistakeable aspects of himself that he still clamps down on, and Lawrence would never presume to push.

So he's taken by surprise when Perry shrugs, noncommittal, then raises his hands to sign; Think I just got cheated on.

"You what?"  Lawrence hisses.

It's fine, I don't-

"No, Perry." Lawrence fumes emphatically, and the teak haired man stops short in surprise. "It is very clearly not fine."

Lawrence-

It's too late. Lawrence had already gotten to his feet, hands on his hips in a way that Candace had once told him made him look his own age, in a derogatory manner. He isn't thinking about that now, though. Now all he is is vibrating at an visible frequency of second-hand outrage. Dinner first, Lawrence thinks to himself. Then he will...he will drive out, and get Perry some ice cream so they can. Can stew and Perry will eat his heart out and they can cry and rage all about this....this no-good heartbreaking bedswerving cad.

This he tells to Perry, who responds by simply burying his face back into his pillow so he could continue wallowing. Lawrence feels generous enough to let him, but he leaves the lights on as he stomps his way downstairs, where the family was happily eating dinner before they see the look on Lawrence's face.

"Dad?" Phineas asked innocently. "What happened? Where's Uncle Perry?"

"I'm afraid Uncle Perry will not be joining us for dinner tonight, boys, and will unfortunately be out of commission until spoken otherwise."

"Out of commission?" The boy gasped dramatically, kneeling on his chair. Candace and Linda had both curiously put their spoons down. "He's sick?" Phineas concludes in dismay. Ferb blinks, shocked.

"Of a sort." Lawrence answers grimly.

"Of a sort?" Candace grunts. "What kind of answer is that? He's either sick or he isn't." Her tone was haughty, skeptical, but Lawrence could hear the concern in her inflection from a mile away. Candace loved pretending she cared less than she truthfully did.

When Lawrence feels the tug on his sleeve, he turns to see Linda, who had a carefully concealed look of concern. A single flick of her eyes in the direction of Perry's room was all she needed to communicate her offer; Dinner?

Lawrence nods, then points to the car keys, hanging by the front door.

Her brow furrows further in concern, but they both know that it wasn't the right time to properly ask. She turns to back to the kids instead. "Honey, why don't you help me make a plate of dinner, and Candace can send it up to Uncle Perry?"

"I want to help send it up!"

"There shouldn't be too many people in Uncle Perry's room, dear, he might have a headache."

"Me and Ferb will be really quiet, please please please please please-,"

Lawrence leaves them to it, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of Linda's temple and ruffling Ferb's hair as he makes his way out. He feels the boy's gaze follow him all the way to the door, but doesn't realize he's being followed until he turns around to shut the door behind him.

Ferb blinks expectantly.

"Oh, go inside, my boy, it's chilly! I'll just be a moment."

The boy responds by pulling a pair of mittens, and his purple bobblehead hat from his deep pockets, blinking again once he shrugs them on.

There was no talking Ferb out of something he's clearly made his mind about. Lawrence sighs, taking his hand as they walk to the garage.

"Alright," Lawrence concedes. "But promise we'll keep this between you and me, alright?"

Lawrence doesn't doubt he will. Ferb blinks eagerly in compliance.

-----

Lawrence figures the boy's figured it out, on their way home from the supermarket, cradling a chilly tub of Perry's favourite ice cream between his legs on the ride home and nothing else. He had snuck a couple packets of antibiotics and fever patches into the basket while they were out shopping, and Lawrence had awkwardly put each one of them back.

When Lawrence returns the sachet of night-time tea they both know Perry favours when he's actually sick, the boy had turned to him with such a deeply knowing look Lawrence felt busted for something he hadn't even been trying to hide, much less of any sort of trouble. The boy said nothing. He didn't have to. He reached for nothing else (save for a packet of gum from the side of the register of both his and Phineas' favourite brand) and remained perfectly well behaved for the rest of the trip.

"Now Ferb," Lawrence says warily, as they start pulling into their street. "You will have to promise me to keep this between us, not even to Phineas if he hasn't figured it out yet. Your uncle is the private sort, and I can't imagine he will want his dirty laundry waved all across town in the state that he's in. He's feeling vulnerable, you understand?"

Ferb nods firmly. Lawrence stretches out his pinky.

"Promise?"

Ferb takes it, and they shake on it like men.

"Good boy." Lawrence says proudly, once again ruffling his hair, and pulls into the driveway of the house.

Ferb rushes inside to put the tub in the freezer (Lawrence hears Phineas happy greeting from the kitchen, "Oh, there you are, Ferb." ) and Linda comes forward to take his jacket, welcoming him home with a gentle kiss. "Welcome home, stud. Found everything he needed?"

"As far as we know. Did you get to talk to him?" 

"He's not in a chatty mood. Though Candace squirreled a thing or two out of him; think she figured out faster than I did."

"She's always got a good head on her shoulders." Lawrence concedes, unsurprised.

"When need be." Linda agrees, before her facade drops and he spies a glimpse of regret. "I didn't even know he was dating someone."

Much less it was anything this serious. Goes unspoken. "I'm inclined to think it's deliberate. Not that we didn't have our suspicions."

"Did he say anything to you?"

Lawrence hesitates. "Not much." He hedges, unconvincingly, from the look of his wife's face. He sighs, and triple checks that the children had dispersed their own ways out of earshot.

"He did say," Lawrence begins carefully. "That there was some matter of. Infidelity involved."

Linda gasped. "Oh, that poor man."

"Not particularly forthcoming beyond the statement."

"Do you think it's one of his...co-workers?"

Lawrence glanced at Linda with a raised brow, but she seems firm with her line of questioning. She's one step further removed from any personal knowledge of Perry's life choices, and occupation-but Lawrence could hide from her as well as blood from gauze. She knew everything he did of Perry's career, which was never much at all. Enough to go by. Enough to reassure her it wouldn't harm their children.

Lawrence had never even considered this, but now that he was, it made a terrifying amount of sense. "I'm obligated to think it might be." He acquiesced. "Might be more complicated than your run of the mill splitting sob story."

Linda hums in agreement, before tactfully changing gears. "I'll reheat your dinner. Did you get him rocky road?"

"Mint chocolate."

"Oh my."

"I'm afraid we'll have to pull out all the stops this time around."

"Maybe I'll pull out my cake pan."

-----

In the days that follow, Perry remains inconsolable.

He's mostly taken to stuffing his face in chips and junk food in front of the TV, half watching re-runs, but for a couple of hours each day the children manage to convince him to participate in their backyard projects, and Candace even manages to coax him to come with her on a trip to the mall. Perry had come home laughing, with a new pair of jeans and flip flops, raving for some obscure chinese martial arts movie they had watched together. The joviality didn't stay, but it was still such a relief to see.

On a pleasantly windy Thursday night, while they've set up a fire and a couple of beers for a Men's Night In in the backyard, Perry nudges his shoulder to tell him, lightly, that he's thinking of quitting.

Lawrence inhales his drink down the wrong tube, and practically coughs his lungs out. Perry thumps him helpfully on the back, and politely refuses to comment.

"Perry," Lawrence gasps, when he's gotten his breath back. "Perry, that's-,"

That's good, he wants to say. But was it really? Bias aside...

That's odd, seemed a bit more truthful, but what kind of response would that be? Nothing at all.

"Are you really?" Is what he ends up saying, more baffled than he meant to put out. Perry shrugs, avoiding his gaze. A moment passes as he takes a sip, and running his thumb around the circumference of the tap.

Maybe not really. Perry admits. Just. I'm getting on in years, maybe I'm not fit for any of the fieldwork I used to do in my twenties. Maybe train some recruits, let someone new take my place.

This was the longest, most honest conversation they've had surrounding Perry's career. Even compared to the one surrounding Evelyn's death, almost a decade ago now.

He knows Perry enjoys fieldwork. It's been largely implied he prodigiously excels in it. So had Evelyn. He had never begrudged her for it, not even till her very end.

Lawrence wonders what changed. He doesn't have to for very long.

The honesty in the air makes him bold, almost uncharacteristically so. "This partner of yours," he starts, careful, careful. "Who was he? To you?"

Perry smiles, a small, bitter thing.

He was everything.

------

Then one day, Perry comes home and he's...better.

Not a 180, but it's. Close. A noticeably stark difference than how he had been last night that it even puts Phineas off, but only for a moment. Mostly he was just ecstatic.

"Uncle Perry's better!" The boy cheers and giggled, dangled beneath Perry's pit like a sack of fresh loam. Ferb's hanging from the back of his shoulders, kicking happily and trying to pull himself up. The man doesn't seem to notice, or mind, the pain. "He's better! He's better! Candace look!"

Ferb manages to haul himself up to sit and wrap his legs around Perry's shoulders, and Perry grunts, reaching back to help him establish balance as he drops a wiggly Phineas back on his feet to reach his mother, chopping lentils in the kitchen.

"Perry? Oh!" Linda says, surprised as Perry swoops in to plant a kiss on her cheek. She giggles, and pinches his. "Welcome home, you blasted rouge. Are you going to help me with dinner?"

Perry responds by taking over chopping duties, pulling the board closer to himself and stealing away her knife to commence vegetable slicing duties. His speed, and the nonchalance that accompanies it-despite the heavy burden around his shoulders, swinging his legs- was almost terrifying, but Linda barely notices. She's reaching for her phone by the cooking stove, sending her husband a red alert. Perry was whistling.

"I gather you had a pretty good day at work, huh?" She muses, half-serious.

He gives her a cheeky one-shouldered shrug, eyes rolling up. His smile dimples. Maybe.

She's practically burning with curiousity, but knows that now wasn't the time to ask. "Well, I'm making braised chicken. Why don't you help me with the asparagus? Ferb, sweetie, you want to get down and help me with seasoning the chicken breast?"

"Oh, but mom!! Asparagus makes Ferb farts so stinky!" Phineas complains.

"It also makes your farts stinky, mister. Now go help Perry pre-heat the oven."

-----

After dinner, Lawrence drops by again. In contrast to the state of things when the trouble began, his room is well-lit, and instead of resting, Perry's at his desk with his reading glasses, and a stack of documents he folds and puts away, out of sight, before he lets Lawrence in with a warm chitter.

As if the last few days never happened at all.

Lawrence has been witness to something like this a few times before, but it never gets any less off-putting, to realize he was so distant from the heat of things -the state, the conflict- and being privy only to the resolution.

Perry had been cheated on, by a man who meant everything. And now?

"Just wanted to check on how things were going." He says, closing the door behind him. "The kids were telling me you're feeling a lot better."

Perry, confoundingly, began to blush, looking down at his pen, rolled and fidgeted between his fingers. I am, he tells Lawrence. Wish I could say it was a huge misunderstanding, even if it was, a little bit. We just never put it into words, what we were, and I think it never occurred to us how much it would hurt, for him to have done what he did.

Perry put down his pen, picked it back up again, uses it to scratch the back of his nape as he looks at Lawrence a little bashfully. Then he puts the pen back down. It surprised me too, that I took to it as bad as I did. What we had was something...special. I didn't realize...

Lawrence looked at him intensely, arms crossed. When he determines Perry had nothing else to say, he asked -what he knew to be- the most important question of all. "And did he apologize?"

Perry smiles. It dimples. This time, it's directed at Lawrence himself, instead of a special man in the distant mind. He did. Perry signs.

"And he meant it?"

As much as he could.

"Well," Lawrence proclaims brusquely. He's trying to sound stern, but the undeniable lovesick smile on Perry was contagious. "So long as he doesn't do it again...,"

Oh, Perry signs ominously. He won't.

Lawrence finally lets himself smile, echoing the childish joy on his brother-in-law's face. "Well," he chuckles. "Then I suppose that's all that matters, doesn't it?"

Perry concedes with an affectionate roll of his eyes, but when Lawrence comes forward to hug him, he returns it right back tenfold.

Thank you, he signs meaningfully.

"You're family, Perry." Lawrence replies, with a shake of his head. "What slights you is a slight to all of us, and your joy is ours. Family sticks together."

It's an old catchphrase of a woman long gone, beyond what's left of her in both their hearts, and Perry tears up. Though he plays it off with a dismissive sniffle, and a bump of their shoulders.

You can be just as insufferable as she was. He signs, more affectionately than he wants to pretend to be. His tone shifts, grows bashful again.

Lawrence, he signs. Slow, hesitant. Do you think....if things ever....and I brought him over to meet...would you...like...?

The implications of Perry's broken up request was as strong as a punch to his gut, and Lawrence fears he might have lost his cool in his eagerness. "Of course we will!" He restrains himself to a stage whisper. He fears he would wake the neighbourhood in excitement, otherwise. "Perry, of course we will. I'll...we'll be honoured, my boy."

He means it too, and Perry could tell. His smile was blinding, and his blush had spread brighter than his skin tone, all across the bridge of his nose. You have to be cool about it. He makes Lawrence promise.

"Oh, totally." Lawrence reassures him. He's putting it on a little bit, on account of it making Perry laugh. "Chill. 100 percent-o. Call me liquid nitrogen the fact that I am lighter than air. I am pre-emptively cooling a block of ice. Call me Fro-zone the way I'm-,"

Get out, Perry demands. Barely. He's also doubled over in laughter. Oh my god, just get out before you make me regret this.

"Getting out!" Lawrence complies with a salute, and dashes out the room. He can still hear Perry chuckling as he closes the door behind him. His cheeks ache from his grin. All better, indeed.

Flushed with triumph and good tidings, he embarks on a mission to find his wife and share the wonderful news.

#heinz doofenshmirtz #perryshmirtz #human perry #phineas and ferb #choice of fic

[eldritch-spouse]

I love morell so much...... How would he react to his piglet starting their period? I just started mine and it hurts like a bitch :(

[Fem reader.]

(Minors dni)

TW: Morell is gross and does a taste test. To no one's surprise.

Ah fuck, it started.

You've been so busy trying to survive here, trying to stay in his good graces, that many other, mundane aspects of life seemingly ceased to exist in your mind. Menstruation wasn't anywhere near the forefront of your brain until you woke up inside the warehouse's cold stone floor, feeling exceptionally wet and cramping like a motherfucker.

Horrid.

You really chose a terrible day to upset the chef. You were tired of his patronizing coos, of Morell's stupid, incessant need of keeping you constantly under his thumb, not letting you do anything unless you all but begged for it! You knew you couldn't run then, knew that you'd just get chased after and possibly risk one of your legs on the chopping block- Oh, and that's what he wants. The monster just wants an excuse to take parts of you away and use them to get off like the sickfuck he is, you knew that. So you didn't give him what he wanted, but you refused to eat instead.

The chef hates that. So much.

He's adamant that you always eat well, maybe more than you should- Or rather, more than your stomach can physically handle. There were times where you nearly vomited, and the mushroom monster had to learn the hard way, that you simply cannot force-feed a human several pans of food without making them extremely sick in the process. Eating with him is always such a troublesome endeavor, sometimes you would rather not eat at all. And, feeling particularly bratty, that is what you did yesterday. You refused to eat. And while you expected him to forcibly jam forkfuls of stew down your throat, in typical brutish faction, all Morell did was tell you to "suit yaself" and tossed you back in the cold warehouse. Naked. Bound to the nines. Not even Turnip was allowed in there to give you some modicum of comfort.

Back to square one, essentially.

And you would be fine with that, normally. This is a rocky dynamic, you're constantly ending up back here for a variety of reasons. It's nothing new. Point being, you had not started menstruating up until now. You would like to stay put, to not give Morell any satsifaction, to challenge him day and night and make him grit his teeth so hard in frustration that he cracks them- But you have to be smarter. This has ceased to be a matter of pride, it is now about basic hygiene, and your chances of surviving this are exceptionally lowered when basic hygiene is put at peril. As such, you have to suck it up and talk to your captor about this.

" MOREEEEELLL! "

...

Nothing. Either he's purposely ignoring you, or he really can't hear the scream over how focused he is. And you don't feel like cracking your voice again.

Groaning in frustration, you start wiggling within your ropes, squirming like a worm on dry land as you drag yourself to the heavy, durable doors leading to the main kitchen. Small and incapacitated as you are, there's no way in Heaven or Hell these doors will open for you. Or rather, after you throw yourself at them a handful of times, they do part, just not because of you.

Upper body landing squarely on the tiles, you're faced with a looming, unamused Morell. He's shirtless, smock absent, a towel in his grasp. " Really now? That's yer plan? "

Albeit counter-intuitive to your current goal, you can't resist the overwhelming urge to glare at the large monster, wanting to say the nasty, heinous things that you know would make him slice some merciless punishment into your skin.

The cook sighs. " Listen piglet, if ya ain't here ta apologize, then I'll hav'ta drag ya back in. "

" No no no no- " You start frantically, wriggling. " I need... " Having to say it just kills you inside. " I need help. I'm... Menstruating. " The shame.

Morell gives you a static look, one full of confusion and suspicion. " ... Menstruatin'? "

Does he seriously not know? Is this real life? Why does God hate you? You just can't contain your snark any longer.

" You mean to tell me you kidnapped a human and you don't know some of us menstruate? What about the ones in the- "

" Woah there, watch that tongue, ya mouthy thing, just show me! "

And you do, getting sobered up by the hint of irritation in his features. Your legs part, as much as they can anyway, revealing an ugly patch of red slickness clinging to your thighs. You're sure it's seeping to your buttocks too at this point. The chef's eyes widen, though a hint of confidence returns to his look.

" Shark week! " He waves, as if that were the only correct, eloquent term to refer to the process. " Ya could have just said that, piggy. "

The nerve.

" S-So?! "

" Do- Do you have tampons? Or pads? Anything, I'll take a rag at this point! " A rag is better than making a bloody trail and sitting in your own slop until he decides to bathe you.

He blinks, resuming his previous task, cleaning his sharper cutlery, things he doesn't trust with the kitchen bobbles. " Yeah? "

The chef laughs. He has the gall to laugh jovially at you. " I might have. Why? Do ya want it? "

" What does it look like? Of course- "

" Don't sound like it. " An indifferent shrug. Morell sets the items down on a clean counter, eyeing you. " Maybe if ya asked nicely, I'd be more inclined ta help. "

You are this close to frothing at the mouth. It's probably from being unmedicated and having to deal with the full brunt of this painful feature. It's hard to stay calm and he probably knows this. In the end, you're in too much discomfort to put up a decent struggle.

" Morell... "

" Hm? " The monster approaches you again, this time from the front, spreading your legs to better see the mess there. You don't like the look he's giving you, it's the exact same hunger present whenever you bleed for him. He looks just like the unabashed predator you've come to know him as. The thoughts that must be flickering behind those slightly glazed eyes are no doubt something out of one's deepest, most depraved nightmares. You shudder.

" ... Can you please help me? " You want to claw off that smug fucking grin.

Morell makes a jolly, wordless hum above you. A bare finger rises to prod at your skin, sliding past your tainted thigh and dipping into the pool of red between your legs. He makes sure to flick your button before withdrawing and plunging that reddened finger right in his mouth. Fucking nasty.

" Ugh- Y-You're disgusting! " You can't help it, face flushing.

The cook guffaws, the sound ringing across the white walls as he licks his teeth. " And yer delicious, pumpkin. "

You're swooped under big blue arms in a matter of seconds.

" Now how about we wash that off? "

#Morell oc

[ravendruid]

❀ daffodil (unequaled love) — “no one will ever come close to you.”

Vaxleth again, but this time... he's training her in dagger handling... or is it her teaching him some new tricks?

Thank you so much for the prompt! Daffodil (unequaled loved)

No one will ever come close to you.

Keyleth had been staring absent-mindedly at the flames dance in front of her for a few minutes, eating some of the stew she had cooked earlier. She still couldn’t believe she had been such a fool as to fall into an ambush the way she did. She was supposed to know nature, she should have seen the change in the pattern of the trees, but instead, she found herself trapped in a cage and her staff taken from her possession. If it hadn’t been for Vax’ildan’s quick reflexes, Keyleth would have never been able to make it out on her own, not with just her simple cantrips.

“Hey, you.” As if summoned from the shadows, Vax sat next to her on the log. “Copper for your thoughts?”

Keyleth shrugged, avoiding eye contact. She was still too embarrassed with the fact that an experienced druid such as herself had lost her focus so effortlessly. The last thing she wanted was to see the look of mock on Vax's face.

“I can teach you how to wield a blade,” Vax offered. “I have a couple of regular daggers. Maybe you can keep one, so you can use it if the need arise.”

“I know how to wield a knife, Vax,” Keyleth replied dryly, looking at the empty bowl in her lap.

“Humor me, Keyleth. We’ve been on the road for days, and you did find yourself in distress today.”

Keyleth looked at him fiercely and was surprised to see a look of concern where she thought mock would be. “Alright.”

They discovered a good practice area, not too far from camp but far enough that a stray blade would not find its purchase in anyone’s limbs, and Vax promptly handed her one of his cheaper daggers. He started by showing her how to grip a dagger for each one of their different purposes, such as throwing, stabbing, or slashing. He quickly learned that Keyleth wasn’t utterly useless with a blade, that she knew how to handle a dagger and was quite good at it.

“I told you I knew how to wield a knife.” She explained as they took a break to sip water from their waterskins. “I use knives – sometimes daggers – to harvest from the monsters we kill or harvest plants. I just have never used them for self-defense or to attack.”

Vax raised his hands in surrender. “I apologize. It was not my intention to undermine you or your skills.”

“I know. You’re just trying to help.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “Care to show me that trick you do before you throw a dagger?”

Vax smirked in her direction, and with the smuggest look possible, he twirled a dagger in his hand and threw it at the trunk of a tree. “This one?”

Vax and Keyleth spent the next hour practicing the twirl-and-throw motion against the trunk of the poor tree that they had picked to act as a dummy. Keyleth was a quick learner, and soon she was able to twirl the dagger in her hand without cutting her palm.

“You do this, and no one will ever come close to you,” Vax said, showing her again. His dagger found purchase in a particular knot of the tree, and the smug look on his face only made Keyleth want to teach him a lesson even more. 

“So you’re saying that all I have to do is twirl a dagger and throw it like you, and no one will ever dare to touch me?” She asked with a smirk. Vax nodded, and she nodded back in acknowledgment. 

Keyleth threw her dagger up in the air, and with a flick of her wrist, a vine-like whip covered in thorns wrapped itself around the hilt of the dagger. She flicked her wrist again and lashed out the whip, releasing the blade that whooshed in the direction of the trunk. Next to her, Vax gasped loudly as the dagger hit the tree so hard that it pierced through the bark to the hilt. 

Keyleth turned her head to him, and she was pleased to see his mouth open and eyes wide in shock. “You might want to pick up your jaw from the ground,” she nodded at his feet with a giggle. Vax realized his mouth was still agape, so he made an effort to close it as Keyleth crossed to the tree to remove the dagger. He saw her place her hands on the bark and close her eyes, and a light green glow emanated from her hands. When she broke from the tree, Vax was even more shocked to see that the gaping hole from the dagger was no longer there, but instead, it was as if she had sewn the bark back together.

“I take it back,” Vax apologized with a subtle smile. “I’m the one who has some learning to do. Gods! You’re amazing, Kiki.”

#critical role #cr fic #vox machina #vaxleth #keyleth #vax'ildan #prompted #dagger dagger dagger

[what-a-weird-rose]

Marylene: The Things I Want for Us (Distract Me, Baby)

Pairing: Mary MacDonald / Marlene McKinnon

Rating: E

Prompt: Face-sitting

Word Count: 1.2k

Mary pats her shirt down from where it had ridden up, feeling the soft cotton under her fingertips. Today had been one of those days in which everything felt more intense; every feeling, every sense, everything felt greater than it actually was.

She rolls her shoulders back, throwing her blue faux-leather purse over her shoulder and strolling out of the boutique and waving off to Emmeline. The cool breeze that passes by her makes the day seem a bit better, especially as it weaves through her hair and swirls around her like some kind of magic.

Her car, beat up as it is, takes her home safely, experiencing only one hiccup on the way as it fought bravely against a pothole. And, as she seemed destined to do at the end of every long day, Mary flopped down on her too-expensive sofa and fell asleep, hoping to stay that way for the rest of forever.

Marlene wakes her not long after she drifted off to dreamland. Mary considers scheming some wretched attack until she smells the lingering scent of something equal parts spicy and good -likely whipped up by James. Eventually, after lamenting the depravity of leaving a warm, comfy couch, Mary lifts herself and strolls begrudgingly into the kitchen, where Marlene sits at the island.

“Evening, Mac,” she says, blowing slowly on a spoonful of hot, yellow curry.

“What’d you get?” Mary asks, pulling boxes from the delivery bag to investigate. She already knows what Marlene got for herself, and she knows what Marlene got for her, but Mary supposes its more polite to ask than assume.

“The usual, love,” Marlene continues blowing on hot food, though she seems far less absorbed by it, instead, her eyes follow Mary as she scurries around the kitchen in search of utensils. “To the left.” She supplies unhelpfully.

They eat together in peaceful silence, enjoying the company each others’ company.

When they finish eating hot, good food, the two clean up, standing side-by-side in front of the too-small sink washing and drying dishes.

Then, when the dishes are cleaned and the counter is clear, the two move up the stairs of their townhouse, chatting about everything and nothing and all the little things in between.

Finally, when the chatter dies down and the city is quiet with restful sleep, Mary moves away from the close cocoon they’d made and turned to her door, wishing good dreams to her company. Marlene nods, wishing her the same.

Mary closes the door behind her and finally pulls her phone out of her pocket, where she had been avoiding it most of the day. She opens it, turns of her Do Not Disturb, and watches as her notifications are flooded by messages and emails and nonsense filler.

She clears what she doesn’t need to deal with immediately, sitting on her bed and staring down in the darkness at the screen. She replies half-heartedly to emails and eventually sets to dealing with the messages.

Some of them are easy enough, short, quick replies to acquaintances. Longer, more distant ones to family. And heartfelt, detailed letters to close friends. All in that order. And in the end, she is left with only one thread left unopened.

Sirius had dumped her not long ago- something about living his truth and wanting to set her free and blah, blah, blah. What Mary is sure actually happened is Sirius realized -horribly late- that his dear friend Remus is hot, wanted to avoid having to deal with the consequences of that, and decided to date her as a distraction. She doesn’t exactly blame him- not too much anymore, at least, but she does certainly feel bad for him, as she reads through the messages in which he pours his hearts out and- surprise, surprise- confesses to having loved Remus, and using her. Mary sighs, she really doesn’t want to deal with this right now, but if she leaves it to the morning, she’ll have stewed too long to be honest with either of them.

She responds, saying she’s fine and that she doesn’t exactly forgive him, but doesn’t hate him either. Mary tells him that she wishes him the best with Remus, and will always remember him as her first love- even if it was one-sided. She informs him that he doesn’t have to walk on eggshells with her because they are adults and she isn’t some crazy, psycho ex, and that she’s moved on.

Sirius doesn’t respond immediately; she doesn’t expect him too.

Marlene opens her door after the third knock, Mary doesn’t think too deeply into that.

Marlene is fidgeting as Mary strips off her shirt and socks, her pants and bra.

Marlene is soft against her as they stand in the middle of the room, lips locked, holding one another. Mary doesn’t think much of anything as she focuses on the feeling of Marlene’s hands against her skin- her eyes dragging down against her body.

There is something so invigorating about the experience of being fucked by her closest friend; something so deeply disruptive about the act, yet doing it anyway.

Marlene grips her thighs, pulling Mary down just enough to lock their lips again, and Marlene pours herself into it; Mary tries not to think about it.

Instead, Mary focuses on the intense lust that coils like a spring in her gut; she focuses on the way her skin prickles with goosebumps anywhere Marlene pulls her fingers; she focuses on Marlene positioning her above her face and pulling her down, down, down- close enough to lick.

Mary focuses on every little sensation given by Marlene’s tongue on her cunt- she tries so hard that she ends up focusing on focusing, rather than on Marlene. She grinds her hips down against Marlene’s fast-moving tongue, but it leaves much to be desired in terms of distractions.

She turns herself around and sits back on Marlene’s face, listening to the hoarse sounds that escape her throat as Marlene does her best work. Mary leans down, pulling Marlene’s legs up and allowing herself access to Marlene’s cunt.

She doesn’t do it much, but when she does, she tries her best.

Marlene seems to appreciate the effort as she groans and plants her feet hard into the mattress beneath them.

Mary licks and sucks and kisses and tries her best to replicate everything Marlene is doing to her own cunt until that little coiled spring in her gut becomes too tight to ignore. As the coil tightens and tightens and tightens, she sinks her hips lower, and buries her face further, and focuses more intently on Marlene’s small clit and her desire to see her friend cum.

Mary grinds her hips down sharply as the wave folds over her, crashing into her with unwelcomed intensity. She gets three good licks of Marlene’s cunt before she joins Mary on the road of orgasm.

Mary pulls herself up and off of her friend, petting down her blond hair and staring at her sweat-covered skin.

“You know I want you, right?”

“I know.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

#(smutty) tales from the hogwarts broom closets #tales from the hogwarts broom closests #marauders #young marauders #the marauders #marauders era #dead gay wizards #mwpp #mwpp era #marlene mckinnon #mary macdonald #marylene #smut

[ungojirasapiente]

Motherhood (an Ice Scream one-shot)

Another cold day in Iceberg Isle, the inhabitants of the village where going on about their daily lives, fishing, chatting with each other, the kids were playing around, making snowballs and throwing them amongst themselves, making snowmen, the usual day-to-day experience. Yukisada had come from a quick trip to the only market in the entire village and the only place in the Iceberg in general, where one could buy vegetables, since they couldn’t be planted and grown in the icy permafrost, Yukisada came back home with a bag full of groceries, some veggies, some meat, she was planning on making a nice homemade stew, to change up the pace from the usual clam chowder she made basically every single day, as lovely and warm as it was, at a certain point, it got tiresome to eat and prepare the same dish over and over again.

Yukisada laid the recently brought stuff in the dining room table, humming a little song while she did, to entertain herself a bit, but she was interrupted by the sounds of footsteps, she looked behind her and saw Shirogane, the wolf girl had finally left her bedroom after staying there for almost an entire week.

“oh, Shiro, you came out!” Yukisada smiled warmly, happy to see her friend finally leave her hidey-hole, when the wolf girl had barred herself inside her bedroom, she had some immediate concerns, while it wasn’t unusual for Shirogane to stay in her rooms for days at a time, an entire week seemed too much.

“I-I smelled food…” Shirogane explained, feeling a little embarrassed for that to be her reason to finally leave.

“I’m making a nice stew tonight, clam chowder is nice and all, but I was getting kinda tired of it, besides, I want to make something nice and tasty for the two of us!” Yukisada explained.

“yes, something nice and tasty, I’m sure my puppy will love it!” Shirogane smiled, her tail wagging excitedly.

“of course, a nice homemade stew for me, you and your pupp-“ Yukisada paused for a second, processing what her canine friend just said. “WAIT, WHAT!?” she screamed in shock.

Shirogane was taken aback by her friends’ reaction. “m-my puppy, I had a puppy!” Shirogane explained, well, not exactly.

Yukisada was left speechless, aghast, she blinked a few times, a thousand thoughts running through her mind.

“Shirogane… puppy!?... Shirogane had a puppy!?, when!? Who!? How!?... well… I know how, but… who did it? Rocma? No, that polar bear can’t even stand to look at her, much less go as far as to have sex with her… nonono, maybe… maybe… PERACO! That perverted, bastard penguin, when I get my hands on him, I’ll…!”  Yukisada was making strange strangling gestures with her hands, a look of absolute fury in her usually gentle face.

Shirogane simply looked at what her friend was doing, a bit weirded out by her unusual behavior. “well… yeah! I had a puppy, he’s really cute, you should see him!”

Yukisada snapped out of her enraged trance. “wait, of course, if I see what the baby looks like, I’ll know who the father is”.

“yes, let me see him” Yukisada said with a completely serious face and a lower tone of voice, almost like a cop asking to see a criminal.

“r-right!” Shirogane responded, still weirded out.

The wolf girl led the snowy owl to her room, Shirogane opened the door as slow and as gently as it was possible, before stepping into the room, making sure to not make any noise, turning on the lights in the bedroom, then turning to look at her friends, making a “shhh” sound with her mouth, putting her finger in front of her mouth to tell her friend to keep quiet, in response to this, Yukisada merely nodded.

“come closer” Shirogane whispered, walking up to the bed, on top of it there was a big pile of clothes, bedsheets and pillows, arranged in a vaguely circular pattern, making some sort of small, makeshift den, Yukisada approached the pile and looked inside of it, expecting to find the infant… Instead, inside the “den” was a small plushie of an artic wolf, with button eyes, it’s limbs and head attached with black thread, a sewn-on smile on it’s cute face.

“eh…?” Yukisada was absolutely bewildered, she expected an actual, alive-and-breathing baby, not a stuffed toy, she looked at her friend like the wolf girl had gone completely crazy, Shirogane simply smiled, a genuine, warm smile that could light up a whole room, she seemed so happy, like the owl had never seen before.

“he’s absolutely adorable, isn’t he?” Shirogane asked, her tail wagging like crazy, looking like a white blur, the most adorable of smiles on her lips.

Yukisada wasn’t sure how to respond, she was concerned for her friends’ sanity, maybe all the bullying she received had finally made her snap? But she also didn’t want to ruin the first moment of genuine happiness in her entire life, an internal debate raged in the owl’s mind. Shirogane walked up to her “den” and grabbed the stuffed wolf doll, cradling it like an actual baby, she smiled at the toy, the smile only an actual mother could give.

“I… I… I” Yukisada stuttered, she was completely speechless, Shirogane truly believed that the plushie was her actual baby.

Shirogane moved aside her overalls straps, then lifted her stripped shirt, exposing her breast, putting the doll’s mouth up to her nipple, as if breastfeeding it.

“you need to eat so that you’ll be a big and strong wolf when you grow up” She talked to her “baby”, before looking at Yukisada. “right, Yuki?”

“… I… I” Yukisada still couldn’t speak, but something suddenly clicked in her mind, she had seen this before! Or at least heard of it. “w-wait here a second, okay Shiro?”

The owl ran out the room, to his “clinic” (actually the entrance room of the house, which Yukisada turned into a small space to help her patients), she went straight to the bookshelf she had next to her desk, scanning the book titles with her vision and finger, she stopped at a thick, green book, in its spine it read “canine medicine, volume 4”.

“AHA, THERE YOU ARE!” Yukisada screamed, before realizing how dumb she looked, screaming at a book like she caught it stealing something.

The snowy owl took the book from its shelf, opening it and quickly skimming through the index pages. “dingoes, foxes, maned wolves, no, no, no” her eyes widened, she found what she was searching for. “wolves!”

Yukisada skimmed though the pages, looking for Shirogane’s specific ailment, she finally stopped at a page, in the top of it, in bold black letters read “faux pregnancy or pseudocyesis”, looking down from the title, she started reading the passage:

“False pregnancy in wolves are the result of a rapid decrease in the hormone, progesterone and an increase in the hormone prolactin. These hormonal changes occur normally in female wolves about 6-8 weeks after being in heat, symptoms range from physical, like sudden engorgement of the mammary glands and nausea and vomiting during the mornings, as if having an actual case of morning sickness…

Yukisada thought about if for a minute, she didn’t remember if she saw Shirogane with those kinds of symptoms…

“nausea… I don’t exactly remember… wait” she muttered to herself, a sudden memory appeared in her mind.

it was an average morning, she was sitting in the dining room, drinking some hot cocoa, she took a big sip of the cup, giving a satisfied sigh after finishing, it seemed it was going to be a normal day. Shirogane walked out of her room, looking depressed, this wasn’t unusual for her, but her face looked worse than usual, she was clutching her stomach.

“s-shiro, are you alright?” Yukisada asked, concerned for her friend.

“i-I’m fine…” Shirogane responded, obviously a complete lie.

Suddenly the wolf covered her mouth with her free hand, while clutching her stomach harder with the other one, the wolf ran to the bathroom, Yukisada following behind her, when she finally reached the bathroom, she was her friend hugging the toilet bowl while retching.

at the time Yukisada didn’t think much of it, it wasn’t unusual for Shirogane to feel ill after being berated by all the inhabitants of the island, the day before that, she had almost been eaten by Idate, then insulted by Rocma for her weakness and then insulted and literally spat on by Rock,  Yukisada thought that she had a nightmare of that event, repeating it over and over while she slept, that when she woke up, she felt ill to her stomach, it wasn’t uncommon for the wolf to feel nauseous after a nightmare like that.

“I should have known something was up with that… god… I’m such an idiot” Yukisada berated herself, she ignored her friend’s wellbeing, if she had paid more attention to her, maybe she could have avoided this whole situation, or maybe helped her friend through it sooner.

Another memory manifested itself in the owl’s mind…

She was talking to Shirogane about random stuff, when she suddenly noticed something about her friend’s chest, had… had her breasts gotten bigger? Yukisada stared at her friend’s bosom, she didn’t remember her being this busty, or was she always that size and she only noticed now? No, that was impossible, right? Yukisada kept ogling at Shirogane’s chest, like in a trance.

“um… Yuki, are you… alright?” Shirogane asked.

Yukisada snapped from her trance, before laughing awkwardly, her cheeks flushed with red.

“y-yeah, I am. Sorry, I just thought you had a… stain in your shirt, yeah, a stain” Yukisada forced a laugh, to try and make the situation less awkward…

Yukisada cringed at that memory, she would have rather kept it forgotten, but it did help reaffirm  Yukisada’s suspicion, she began reading the book again.

“in the behavioral side of the things, the symptoms can range from simple changes in behavior because of the hormones, like restlessness, mood swings and anxiety to even “adopting” objects to act as “pups”, guarding and defending the object, talking to it, to even trying to “feed” the object by placing it right against the breast”

“there it is…” Yukisada had her suspicion confirmed, Shirogane had a faux pregnancy.

Yukisada kept reading, “faux pregnancies usually resolve themselves in 2-3 weeks without any treatment…”. Yukisada closed the book, feeling slightly frustrated.

“two to three weeks, huh…” Yukisada said to herself, engraining the words on her brain, she sighed. “well… at least it isn’t anything bad, just normal canine stuff” while the duration was a bit longer than she would have hoped, she was relieved to see that it wasn’t something awful or incurable, she would just have to give her friend company while she went through the experience, and it’ll resolve itself.

Yukisada put the book back in its shelf, she exited her little “clinic”, returning to the dining room, Shirogane was already sitting on the table, holding her “puppy” in her arms.

“Yuki, you came back!” Shirogane smiled, her tail wagging at the sight of her friend.

“y-yeah, I just needed to do something”

“what was it?”

“well…” Yukisada was silent for a second, trying to think of something to say. “I was reading up on canine medicine, to help with your baby” she lied, she figured it was better to play along, rather than cause the wolf even more distress by revealing the truth too early.

“oh, Yuki, thank you so much, I know I can always count on you, you’re a great auntie”

Yukisada blushed, while the circumstances weren’t the ones she expected or wanted, it was nice to get a genuine compliment, especially from Shirogane.

“now, lets eat, I’m hungry and I need to make more food for my little puppy” Shirogane explained, rocking the baby side to side in her arms, smiling at it like an actual mother would do with her child.

“r-right, I’ll go ahead and start cooking, we’re having stew tonight!”

“that’s great” Shirogane smiled, those genuine smiles she gave were rare, but every time that she smiled with all her heart and soul, it warmed the snowy owl’s heart, she always loved to see her friend smile, as rare as it was, it gave her the determination to keep going.

They were going to be the longest two or three weeks of Yukisada’s life, but she was willing to help her friend in any way she could, as long as it meant seeing her happy and healthy, the snowy owl finished making the food, setting it on the table, seeing Shirogane happily eating something she made was amazing, it truly made it all worth it, so maybe… maybe it wasn’t going to be that bad.

------

so, i hope you guys enjoyed this little fluffy story i wrote for Yukisada and Shirogane, well, their genderbend versions, but still, i had fun writing it and i hope you guys had fun reading it!

#funamusea #okegom #deep sea prisoner #ice scream #shirogane ice scream #shirogane (okegom) #yukisada okegom #yukisada #yukisada (okegom) #genderbend #genderbent #genderbend shirogane #genderbend yukisada #genderbend au #rule 63 #fluff #fluffy fic #fluff fic #my writing

[bwamp-bwamp]

While They're Away

WARNING: NSFW writing below, if you're a minor, or are uncomfortable with such writing, please do not interact. Thank you.

Warning 2: This was poorly written and very messy. Not beta read

Includes: Underwear smelling, self pleasuring, brief hint at auditory kink, exhibitionism, cum eating? Probably missed some other stuff, let me know if I did.

The room was quiet, which was probably a mistake. There should’ve been some form of background noise. He should’ve played some music to drown out his whiny moans, but he wasn’t in his right mind to think properly if his current actions were any indication.

Andy wasn’t sure how they ended up with a pair of their roommates worn underwear pressed to their nose, ripped jeans on the floor next to their bed, cock and hand messy with lube and precum as they took their time with pleasuring themself, listening to the slick sounds that filled the air, imagining it was the other riding them and not their hand. He truly had no intention of this, but the undergarments had been laying on the laundry room floor, neglected and calling to him. He had planned on returning them to their owner, albeit awkwardly, but there was a metaphorical devil on their shoulder telling them to take it back to their room.

It’s not like the other would know about it, they were out of the shared living space. There's no way they could know… unless they came home early and caught him. That thought had their breath catching in their throat, hand losing rhythm and hips shuddering before his movement quickened, praying for this to blow over quickly.

They feared having to explain what they were doing, why they were doing it. They feared getting caught, or did they? Andy bit their lower lip, trying to keep quiet as they became red in the face from embarrassment and excursion, working double time to finish before he was found out.

He’d get this over with, out of his system and put the article of clothing back where he found them, like he never even knew they were there and bury the truth of what happened deep within himself, to stew in his shame. ‘They can’t know this happened.’ They thought as they took another deep breath against the worn fabric that was held to their nose, throwing their head back with grey eyes closed as they grew closer to their end.

"I know you're not about to use that thing when I am right here."

Andy practically jumped out of their skin when the voice they were all too familiar with filled the room. Immediately everything stopped and they turned their head to look at their roommate. Hand, lungs, brain, and heart, everything was still in that moment as the two made eye contact. When did they get back, how long were they standing there, and why were they smirking at him instead of ripping his limbs off? All of these were good questions until the words processed through their brain.

Not trusting their voice to not sound shaky or whiny, the thin man gave a nod, eyes trained on the figure before them.

"Oh you are? Fine then, I at least get to watch, right?"

He gave another nod, this one much more eager than the last. If they wanted to watch him masturbate while smelling the underwear they wore who knows how long ago, he'd gladly put on a show. They walked over to the cheap computer chair by the somewhat organized desk, pulling it to the foot of Andy's bed before sitting in it. It felt hot, the air around him was too hot and too stuffy. Sitting up and setting the underwear on the bed, the redhead yanked his shirt over his head, not caring if lube from their hand got on it, then tossed it to the floor with his jeans. They flopped back against the pillows , getting comfortable before wrapping their fingers around their girth, resuming the pace they had set earlier.

Panting heavily he brought his free hand to his mouth while watching the roommate watch him, pressing a finger to his tongue and closing his soft lips around the digit, getting it wet before pulling it out. Slowly, the finger left a wet trail from the center of their chest to a pierced nipple. A loud moan echoed off the walls at the stimulation they were giving themself both above and down below. Lightly pulling on his nipple caused his body to react with a buck of his hips. They were so close, so so close.

Their roommate sat forward in the seat, causing the old thing to creak under the weight shift. Their eyes never left the redheads body. The intensity of the stare had their dick twitching in their hand.

"Are you gonna cum, Andy?"

He nodded for a third time, but that wouldn't do for the other, judging by the expression on their face.

"Say it. I want you to tell me you're going to cum for me, from the scent of me."

"I'm gonna cum. I-I'm gonna cum, f-fuck!"

Getting up from the chair, his roommate crawled up the bed to him. They smacked his hand away from his chest before grabbing their underwear and handing it to him, taking over playing with his chest. Andy brought the fabric to his nose breathing in the almost addictive scent as their owner flicked one of his nipples with their tongue, his other being rolled between soft digits. Grey eyes rolled back with a gasp when the warm mouth wrapped around the sensitive bud and sucked.

That's all it took to push Andy over the edge, ropes of cum landing in their trimmed blonde happy trail, eyes closed tightly as moans left their mouth.

Panting, he stroked his length a few more times before he finally stopped, only opening his eyes when the other detached from his chest and began licking the cum off his lower stomach.

"Next time, just ask for a pair or invite me to join in."

#andy parkway #attempted writing #oc writing #oc #original character

[freddieslater]

Rowing the Rarepair Rowboat: Mal Bertha x Jay (Descendants)

Requested by anonymous

"Do you remember..." Jay begins to ask, then stops himself with a chuckle, and shakes his head, looking away like it's not worth it.

Furrowing her eyebrows, Mal jabs him in the arm with her elbow. It meets soft muscle, not really hurting him despite other people telling her she has skin like thorns and bones like horns. Whatever that means. Probably just some little scaredy cats, so unimaginative that they always have to find some way to compare her to her mother.

Jay lifts his eyes back to her and she nods encouragingly.

"Okay. It's nothing! Just, you know, standing out here on this balcony, it kinda reminded me of when we would sit on your balcony back on the Isle," Jay says, finishing with a shrug and a look as if to say I told you it wasn't worth it.

But Mal's relieved that he did. She had been thinking the same thing, only she didn't want to say it for fear that she'd come off sentimental and soft. People have been saying that a lot lately, just because she decided that maybe this place isn't so bad. Just because she actually likes learning real things and eating fresh food that doesn't have a week's worth of rot on it, and clothes and beds that aren't dirty and itchy and don't smell like they've been used to stir Goblin stew.

If that makes her soft, then maybe she doesn't mind being a little soft. How does wanting a little bit of comfort and luxury in her life make her any less tough? It's what a lot of the Villains wanted, wasn't it?

Remembering Jay, she casts him a fleeting glance, and catches sight of his disappointment at her silence. She takes a peek back into the room and finds it as empty as it was before; Evie is still getting ready in their room, and Carlos is in the bathroom down the hall trying not to throw up from nerves.

It's just the two of them. Just like back on the Isle.

"Yeah, I remember," she eventually manages to say. She doesn't quite look at him, letting her gaze wander over the horizon instead. There's so much to take in, so many castles and towers and stars. "I was thinking about it as well."

"Hm." Jay's quiet for another moment, and Mal thinks that might be the end of their conversation. Only briefly, knowing him better than that, and being proven correct. "It's weird here, isn't it? All of the people. We actually... fit in. People like us. They genuinely like us, not just because they're scared of us or respect us, but because they want to be our... friends."

The word sounds foreign to both of them.

"Kind of makes me miss it," Mal admits without thinking. She keeps her eyes straight ahead, but she can't help finishing the thought. "Those times on my balcony. It was just us two. We didn't have friends. It was nice. Simple."

Jay laughs, and Mal gives him a strange look. "You know, I've heard that having friends is a good thing," he says, but his features soften out and he rolls his eyes a bit as he adds, "but I can't say I don't agree. We weren't... friends, I guess, but I liked knowing I was the only one you would get into fights for even if you didn't want to."

"And the only one allowed in my tower," she says with a slight smile, recalling only a few of his visits. "Remember when I dared you to spin in a hundred circles then run all the way down the stairs?"

"No," Jay says, his face splitting into a soft grin, "but I do remember the time fell asleep on your floor. You kicked me and told me to go home if I was gonna be such a boring guest."

Mal snorts and turns back to the horizon, watching a lantern float up into the sky, followed steadily by at least a hundred more. She had always wondered what they meant when she saw them lighting up the distant sky from the Isle. She still doesn't know; she hasn't had much of a chance to ask and they haven't gotten to it yet in history or traditions.

"I'd do it again," she says flippantly.

"Do you remember what happened after that?" Jay asks lightly.

She taps the stone railing she's leaning on and hums, sticking her tongue in her cheek as though having to think hard. Her eyes fall to the trees instead as she tries to calm her racing heart.

"Uh, nope," she lies. "Don't think so." Take a leap. "Remind me?"

"I told you I didn't want to go home," Jay says quietly, making her strain to hear him. "I thought you were going to throw me off the balcony or just kick me down the stairs until I rolled right out of the tower."

"Did I?" Mal asks dryly, already knowing the answer.

She accidentally looks at Jay. Auradon suits him better than she ever thought it could, but she can still remnants of the thief from the Isle under the shiny red coat and pristine white button-up shirt, formal black trousers that aren't too short or too long on either leg, and the elegant yet simply bun his hair is tied up in. Fit for a cotillion of his own, she thinks. Maybe he could be granted some kind of title over in Agrabah if he talks with the Sultan, seeing as how his dad kind of had some royal stance for a while, even if it was technically fake.

It takes far too long for either of them to notice that they're simply gazing at each other, and Mal realizes with a slight start that he must have been admiring her in the same way she was admiring him. She flushes hot and suddenly feels too bare in the fancy, flouncy purple dress, with her shoulders and arms out, no gloves to clench for that satisfying crinkle of leather.

"Nah," Jay finally says, his smile growing out of the corner of her eye as he shakes his head. "You kicked me again, told me to get up, so I did, ready to leave. Figured I'd outstayed my welcome."

"Like always," she interjects to cover up the growing flutter in her stomach.

"You told me to get in your bed. Pushed me into it, really, and told me that I was to stick to my side and if I stole all of the blankets, I'd get more than a kick in the leg."

Mal presses her smile into her shoulder and finds herself grateful for the bareness now as the cold skin of it cools her warm cheek.

"You know, I overheard you. When that stupid bird flew in and said he was going to go off and tell your mother that you had let me spend the night. That he was going to tell her you were too soft because you cared about me. And you just told him to go choke on a wrapper."

Mal laughs. "Oh, man, I do not miss Diablo one bit. I hope he is utterly miserable. And that he has choked on a wrapper."

"He could've done it. But you still let me stay, knowing that your mom could have found out," Jay continues, not swayed by her attempt to sidetrack him.

She shrugs again. "I didn't do it for you. I just hated that stupid bird."

Then she catches the look on Jay's face. She sighs.

"And because... I wanted you to have at least one good night's sleep." Jay's face lights up at the confession, his eyes literally sparking like a flame on a dark night and his mouth twitching at the corner. "I originally was just going to leave you asleep on the floor, but I figured you spent enough nights on a floor in your dad's shop."

She rolls her eyes and hastily straightens up.

"Suppose you're going to call me soft? Say I'm stupid and weak for caring? It was stupid," she hurries to say before he can get a word out. "It's not like you cared where you slept, so I definitely shouldn't have."

Jay shakes his head. She worries that if he keeps doing that, he's going to dislodge some hair from the bun and mess the whole thing up. Though, he might look even better like that. Less polished prince and more street rogue, like she's used to.

Even more reason why he shouldn't keep doing it.

"I would never dream of calling you soft," Jay says with a chuckle, making her smile. That seems to have been his goal. "You're none of those things. Truthfully, that night was the best of my life. Every moment that I spent with you was way better than even a second that I spent in my dad's shop, no matter what we were doing."

Mal blinks. While they've always been closer to each other than anyone else in their lives, they've never really been the kind to be so open. They just kind of got each other, understood without saying, and anything they didn't understand, they left unspoken as it wasn't worth saying.

That's how things worked on the Isle. But this is Auradon. Where people talk to each other (sometimes), and they have friends, and boyfriends and girlfriends, and husbands and wives, and they openly care about each other enough to be honest with them to their face about good things, not just the bad.

"I..." She hesitates, unsure of how to proceed into such unfamiliar territory. "Me too."

Jay isn't disappointed by the rather lacklustre response, because he understands all of the unspoken words. He understands that those two words mean everything.

He takes a deep breath in and nods slowly, a beautiful smile taking up half of his face. Mal can't stop looking at him -- she wishes she could, because it's frankly embarrassing to be so openly fond of anyone, but she just can't bring herself to try very hard.

"In that case, I need to ask you something." Jay clears his throat awkwardly. "It's... about Ben. It's just that... you know, the two of you... you're close. Kind of like we were. Before."

Mal frowns, but her lips twitch. "Huh. I guess it is kind of the same."

Jay nods slowly. The spark is dying right in front of her eyes.

"Except, with Ben, I've been acting."

She looks at him properly. His head lifts, a little slow to what she's getting at, but the realization is rising like the sun on the horizon, casting a beautiful light over the shadows. When he's right at the edge, she tilts her head to catch his eyes.

"I was never acting with you," she tells him. Raising a shoulder to her cheek in another half-shrug, she sighs. "With you, it's always felt... right. The way we were -- are. And if the way we are when we're together is how all these couples are together, then... I don't really know what that means, but I think it means something."

Jay's voice seems to have left him as it goes all breathy when he says, "Me too." He mirrors her, leaning his arms on the stone, hands clasped over the edge as they look out at the sky still tinted orange from the lanterns now high enough to touch the stars.

They stay that way, not saying anything, until Evie comes bursting into the room telling them to hurry up or they're going to be late for Ben's coronation. Not that either of them really cares much about it, especially not now that they've all agreed to drop the plan of stealing Fairy Godmother's wand.

Even so, they turn to follow her out as she goes looking for Carlos. Jay stops Mal, then shocks her with a bow so formal that she once again thinks of how well he'd do as a prince, and holds a hand out to her.

"Lady Mal of the Isle," he begins in a fake fancy accent, making her snort a laugh and cover her mouth at the ridiculousness of it, "would you do me the honour of accompanying me to the ball?"

"You're kidding, right?" she asks, but he raises his eyebrows at her and she hastily rearranges her features into a more serious expression of girlish delight. It surprisingly isn't too difficult. "Oh, Lord Jay of the Isle! What a request! How could I ever refuse?"

"You couldn't," Jay says with a cheeky wink.

Mal's tempted to swat his hand away just for the sake of it. But there's another part of her, the one that wins out, that wants to feel what it's like to have his hand in her own. So, she takes it.

"In that case," she says dryly, "I would be honoured."

There's a shout from Evie from somewhere down the hall, accompanied by some rather stubborn protests from Carlos. Mal and Jay exchange an amused glance and hurry out of the room to join them.

#descendants #mal x jay #jay x mal #mal bertha #jay jafar #jay descendants #jal #isle of the lost #rowing the rarepair rowboat #myedits* #I simply love them okay? #you don't understand how thrilled I was to have them requested because I just adore mal and jay in every way #like their whole dynamic?? especially if you add in the dynamic they had in the first book?? it's beautiful #they were truly each other's everything on the isle

[whumperooni]

what’s mine is mine

Pairing: Touya Todoroki x Sister!Reader

Tags/Warnings: tw incest, tw breeding kink, scumbag squad, drugs and drinking, possessive behavior

Word count: 5.7k

A/N: This is in response to a big brained nonny! I’m so sorry it took me so long to get to it!

“Touya-nii, do you want some- oh. Sorry, nii-san, I didn’t know you had guests over...”

Touya lifts his head from his phone to find you standing in the doorway- a curious tilt to your head and hands clasped behind your back. On the couch across from him, his shitty friends are looking at you- just as curious but with a look in their eyes that he doesn’t appreciate.

There’s a reason he doesn’t have them over when you’re home.

“Woah, Todoroki- who is this? Don’t tell me that’s your little sister. Where’ve ya been hiding her?”

Touya huffs as Keigo grins and you flush- teeth digging into your bottom lip, eyes lowering to the floor under the attention, a tiny smile threatening to form that Touya is very unhappy to see.

“C’mere, little birdy, let us see ya. Come say hi.”

The scowl that breaks across Touya’s face only makes Keigo smirk. Your eyes dart to Touya- seeking his approval, your face flustered- and Touya huffs again, rolls his eyes whenever Jin raises a brow toward him.

At least Tenko’s already gone back to playing his game- head bowed and bloodshot eyes only flicking toward you whenever Touya waves you over to him and you hesitantly enter the room.

He doesn’t like the way three sets of eyes run over your legs and he really doesn’t like the way Keigo’s smirk grows whenever his own eyes narrow.

Fuckin’ bastard. He’s nothing but scum.

Touya grabs your wrist as soon as you’re close enough to him to do so and he yanks you down onto his lap, ignores the squeak that leaves you whenever he wraps his arms around your waist and hooks his chin over your shoulder, rests a hand on your thighs.

“Asshole friends, this is my little sister. Sis, these are my asshole friends.”

“Yo.”

“Hey.”

“...mmm.”

“H-Hi...”

Keigo coos at your shy voice and Jin smiles a little- expression hazy from all the weed he’s smoked. Tenko glances at you- pointedly at your legs, between them- and Touya scowls, squeezes your thighs and pulls you even closer against him.

“Hey, baby, why don’t you come over here with us? If you want a lap to sit on, you can always use mine or Jin’s.”

“What about mine?”

“No one wants to sit on yours, weeb.”

“You can sit on mine,” Jin mumbles, barely audible over Tenko and Keigo’s squabbling. “I don’t mind.”

Your head moves with a shake and your fingers curl into your skirt- cheeks flaring as you press back against Touya. Something relaxes in his chest with that and he hugs you a little closer, smothers the impulse to lay his lips to your neck.

“N-No, thank you,” you mumble to Jin- so polite, so shy, so very good with your refusal.

“Didn’t want you to anyway.”

Touya snorts at that, just shakes his head when you look back at him in confusion.

Out of all of them, Jin’s probably the least likely threat. Tenko would be if he didn’t have a habit of staring and sneaking photos of any and every girl he can- he wouldn’t ever actually try anything on you, but Touya doesn’t want upskirt photos of his lil sis on that perv’s phone.

Keigo’s the worst by and far. And Touya will be damned if he lets his little sister get anywhere near that jackass with his sickly sweet charm, shit eating grins, and groping hands.

No way- you’re his.

“Nii-san,” you whisper, looking back at him with your cute little flushed cheeks and shy eyes. “Nii-san, I just came down to ask if you wanted some dinner. Natsuo-nii said he’d pick up some take-out...”

Natsuo? What the fuck are you doing hanging around Natsuo? That little shit should be on some cheesy date with his squeaky mouse of a girlfriend instead of trying to weasel in some time with you.

Touya doesn’t know which he hates more- the thought of his sleazy friends trying to flirt with you or the thought of you hanging out with your older brother, his younger brother.

When he only scowls in response, your face falls. You turn on his lap until you’re sat facing him- fingers curling into his shirt and brow furrowed, your bottom lip jutting out into one of those cute pouts of yours that you like to wear when you’re worried about him.

Over your shoulder, Touya can see Jin’s confusion and Tenko’s cocked brow, Keigo’s narrowed eyes. He flashes them a sneer that you can’t see and settles his hands on your hips, looks back down at you to see what’s got you bothered enough to forget your shyness.

“Onii-chan,” you start- voice tilting with a soft whine, something almost lecturing creeping through the words. “Nii-san, Natsuo-nii was just being nice. And you need to eat.”

Your hands run down his chest and your expression grows softer as you look up at him through your lashes, your voice gets quieter as you whisper to him,

“I worry about you, nii-san. You’re so skinny...”

The tips of your fingers press into the spaces between his ribs and Touya sighs as concern fills your eyes, ignores the stares of his friends from across the room.

“Fine, whatever,” he grumbles. “Get something for me and put it in the fridge. I’ll eat it later.”

“You promise?”

A huff leaves him and you pout whenever he rolls his eyes, but a nod of his head gets your lips quirking up with a pleased little smile all the same.

“I’ll get you some low mein,” you chirp, hands smoothing down his chest. “And I’ll have Natsuo-nii get you some beer too!”

“Aw, ain’t she just the sweetest.”

Keigo’s croon has you blushing and Touya huffs again once your head ducks- lips twitching with irritation as you squirm on his lap and the blonde across the room bares his teeth at him in a grin.

Fuckin’ dick.

“I, um, I- I should go tell Natsuo-nii,” you mumble, cheeks still flared up and voice dipping shy again. Touya just grunts and he squeezes your hips before giving one a little smack.

A press of soft lips to his cheek and then you’re off- Keigo, Jin, and Tenko all watching as you hurry out of the room and out of sight.

As soon as you’re gone, they look to him and Touya’s eyes narrow when a low whistle sounds from Keigo.

“Shit, Todoroki, and here I thought your whole family was just a bunch of dogs.”

“Oh fuck off,” Touya snaps, reaching for the blunt wraps with a scowl. “Don’t get any fuckin’ ideas, birdbrain.”

“Ideas?” Keigo laughs- grin still in place, turning sleazy. “Now why would I have any ideas about your cute lil sis and her cute lil tits.”

“I said fuck off.”

“She is pretty cute,” Jin mumbles, fingers scratching along his chest and lips holding a dazed smile that only has Touya scowling darker. “Like her ass...”

“Bet she cums like an ahego whore,” Tenko throws out without even looking up from his stupid fucking game. “Looks like a dumb slut.”

“Think the weeb’s right,” Keigo sneers. “Hey- she got a boyfriend, Todoroki?”

“I don’t know- you got a black eye?”

“Aw, cute- he’s protective.”

“Virgin then,” Tenko pipes up. “Bet she’d cream herself if she got kissed.”

A growl rips from Touya and the three bark out some laughs- Keigo and Tenko smirking while Jin’s dumb little smile grows.

He’s gonna fucking kill these assholes.

He knew they’d be nothing but scum when it came to you- he should’ve made sure you’d be out of the house before he let these three dicks come over for a smoke sesh.

Touya scowls and his friends keep up- slinging lewd comments and jeers as he smokes and stews.

◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾

Two in the morning and Touya’s buzzed.

Buzzed and fucking pissed.

Those assholes didn’t let up all night. Every other sentence out of Keigo’s mouth was about fucking you, getting you on your knees, making you drunk and stupid so he could wreck your ass. Tenko kept comparing you to characters from his ero games and Jin kept mumbling how he wanted you to sit on his dick, warm his cock while he smokes.

Jin was bareable, kind of. But Tenko and Keigo?

It’s a goddamn miracle he didn’t break their faces.

Touya scowls as he watches his so called friends head out and narrows his eyes at one last jeer of “kiss your sis good night for me” tossed out ny Keigo.

Those fuckers need to learn some manners. Those fuckers need to learn who you belong too.

Scowl deepening, Touya heads toward your room- feet stumbling and teeth gritting.

You’re asleep when he barges in- face peaceful, blanket twined between your legs, fingers curled into the sheets. He looks over you for a second, runs his eyes over bared thighs and cotton panties, and then he walks toward the bed, climbs onto it.

As soon as the mattress dips, your lashes flutter open and you stir with a sigh. You don’t do more than give a sleepy blink when he brackets himself over you, offer him a fuzzy, drowsy smile.

“Touya-nii...? What...what time is it?”

“Two.”

A hum and a yawn, another sleepy little blink. You’re cute like this and usually Touya would just crash beside you, but he’s got other plans right now- stupid, drunk, dumb plans but plans all the same.

“Hey- hey, don’t go back to sleep.”

There’s a huff from you, a furrowing of your brows. But you obey him as you always do; you sit up with another yawn and rub at your eye with a loose fist, let him tug the covers off of you without a fuss.

“Nii-san...nii-san, what is it?”

Touya ignores you and he grabs onto your still sleepy face, pulls you closer until he can kiss you, make you whine and moan. You jerk, just a bit, at the way he bites into your bottom lip and then you’re melting into his touch, looking up at him through half-shut eyes whenever he breaks the kiss and runs his drunken gaze over your flushed face.

“Nii-san...?”

Touya grunts and thumbs away a dribble of spit from the corner of your lips, ignores the quiet confusion written all over your face. You press into his touch and he watches you blink, reaches over to flick on the lamp without looking. He almost knocks it over but he ignores that, too, and kisses you again- not caring if you’re blinking rapidly to adjust to the sudden light or if you’re still thrown a little off kilter by his mood and his lingering scowl.

This kiss is rougher- his fingers snarling into your hair and his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, his grip tightening on your head. You whimper with it and Touya growls, doesn’t pull back until he feels you tremble and shake. Your lips part with a question, quivering and plumped up from his bites, and Touya huffs before it can sound, grits out his own.

“You love me, right?”

Your eyes snap open, you breathe in sharp and fast- bewilderment all over your face and any lingering traces of sleep evaporated in an instant. Your hands fly to his face and his lips twitch at the touch, he presses into it even if it’s a fucking weak little move.

“Touya-nii, of course I love you! I love you with all my heart!”

Sweet, a little hurt, absolutely sincere- you say it with wide eyes and so much concern that it makes him want to scowl even deeper, punch himself for being so stupid to even ask.

Of course you love him- he’s your nii-san after all.

Touya huffs and his shoulders relax a little, his tongue darts out to wet his lips as your brows scrunch together in worry.

You’re a good little sister. He doesn’t have anything to worry about- never will.

But fuck he’s still pissed.

“I wanna do something,” he half-growls out. “You’ll be good for me, yeah?”

A flush, a squirm. You nod, though- brows still furrowed and eyes scanning his face in search for some answer to your confusion.

“Of course, nii-san,” you whisper. “I- of course. What-”

“Take your clothes off. All of ‘em.”

A soft noise slips from you and you breathe in shakily, but there’s no hesitance in the way your hands rise to tug off your shirt.

Touya watches for a moment and then he gets up from the bed, walks over to the door and closes it, locks it.

You’re naked by the time he comes back- flushed but not embarrassed, bruises littered everywhere your clothes can hide them. Touya eyes the bruises, those marks he’s put all over his dear, sweet little sister, and his lashes lower, something hungry and greedy starts to grow inside of him.

You’ve never belonged to anyone but him.

He touches your cheek- soft in the moment, rough edges hazed over by your adoration. A tap to it has your lashes fluttering, a press of his thumb to your lips has you shuddering.

“We’re gonna make a lil movie,” he rumbles out. You startle, eyes flying wide open once again, but you don’t protest or tell him no even if unease has your fingers curling tight into the sheets.

You never tell him no.

“I...okay, nii-san...”

The compliance has him humming- thumb dipping past your parted lips so he can press it down against your wet tongue.

It’s sweet how you agree, satisfying- more satisfying then the beer he threw back all throughout the night and the weed he smoked away.

A lick to his lips and Touya pulls away, starts to strip away his clothes- hands fumbling, clumsy as he tries to undo buttons and zippers. You watch him silently- cheeks heating up and thighs pressing together- and your teeth find your bottom lip when he starts to tug down his boxers, when his cock springs free.

“Turn around,” he orders. “Get on your knees, put that fucking pretty face against the bed and raise that ass up for me.”

Shivering, you obey- a mewl slipping from you as you do.

Touya grabs his phone from his pants and he kneels by the bed, pulls up the camera and hits record.

You’re wet and it’s easy to see even in the lowlight, even on the shitty phone screen. When he grabs onto your ass with his free hand and spreads your cheek, your hole clenches- tightens and spreads and makes him smirk.

“So fucking wet for me,” he half-sneers, a laugh sounding through the words. “Look at this pretty lil cunt all soaked and eager.”

“T- Touya...”

He huffs at your little whimper of a whine and brings the phone even close, records the way your hips twitch and your cunt sucks in his thumb when he presses against it.

“So fuckin’ wet and warm. So tight,” he hisses. “All for me, baby- right?”

“Y- yes. It’s all- all for you!”

Touya snorts and he slips his thumb out so he can spread your pussy open again, presses his palm against it and then lays a wet smack to your ass that has you yipping, arching your hips even closer to him.

“You ever been with anyone but me?”

The sheets rustle as you shake your head and Touya grips your ass tight, digs his fingers in deep and makes you squirm, whine. When there’s no verbal answer, he spanks you again in warning and you whine even louder, press your thighs tight together.

“N- no! Just you! Just Touya!”

“You want anyone else?”

“No! Never!”

Touya grins and the restless anger in him quells, just a little, at your mewled loyalty.

A fucking good little sister indeed.

Touya aims the camera at the red blooming across your ass and then he stands, moves it over to capture your arched back. He runs his hand over your side and you shiver a little, press your hips back against him until his cock nudges at your soaked cunt.

“You wanna get fucked, sweetheart?” he half taunts- the words coming out sickly sweet, rough around the edges.

“Please!”

Your moan is even sweeter than his question- hips bucking back against his cock, fingers fisting the sheets tight in your hold.

“Think you can do better than that,” he huffs, leaning over until he can tangle his fingers into your hair. “Tell me how bad ya want it.”

A whine sounds- pathetic and flustered, pitching up sharp as he yanks your head up from the bed. The tiniest sob slips from you as he forces your head back and you stare up into the camera- cheeks flushed, eyes glittering, an undeniable need flourishing across your your face.

“Please, nii-san,” you beg, nearly breathless and so fucking sweet. “Please I want- I want you to fuck me! I want- want your cock!”

“Only mine?”

Another whine and you nod, whimper as your hair gets tugged and pulled by the movement.

“Only Touya-nii’s!”

“Good girl.”

A gasp from you and a cute little mewl- the praise has you flushing darker and a tremble wracking through your body, your lashes fluttering and falling half-shut.

“Nii-san, please...”

Touya grunts and the camera shakes in his hand for a moment before he steadies himself. He rocks against you, has you whimpering, and then he grips his cock, lets you bury your face back into the sheets as he starts to push his way into your eager little cunt.

You clench around him, so fucking eager as always, and Touya groans at that, lowers his phone to show off the way his cock slides into your plush little pussy with ease.

“So fucking wet, baby,” he praises- taunts- in a growl. “Ain’t never had a cunt like yours. So fucking tight and sweet. You were made to take my dick, weren’t cha?”

A shuddering moan wracks through you- body trembling and cunt clenching around his cock so tight it makes Touya hiss and claw his nails into your hips. You whimper at the sting and he doesn’t have to see your face to know you’ve got tears in your eyes, doesn’t have to hear any mewl or whine to know that you love it.

“I- I was made- was made- oh, nii-san!”

Touya snorts at your moan, tilts his head back with a groan as he sinks even deeper into your silken, squeezing little cunt.

“Throw those fucking hips back,” he snarls, orders. “Fuck yourself on me.”

A mewl and you do just as he says- rocking your hips back like the obedient girl you are and whining as his piercings drag along the throbbing walls of your pussy. Touya rolls his head back forward so he can watch and he angles the camera so he can capture the way the soft flesh of ass jiggles each time it meets his pelvis.

“So fuckin’ good,” he mumbles. “Takin’ it so well- best fuckin’ pussy around. No one fucks like my lil sis.”

It’s more to the camera- to the future audience- but you still whimper and grind against him, drags your nails over the sheets with a soft little whine.

“Nii-san- Touya-nii, please!”

“What? You gonna come already?”

“Please!”

Touya huffs and he lays a spank to your ass, drags out a moan and has your hips stuttering against him.

“Come on nii-san’s cock then. Come nice and pretty like a good girl.”

A whimper and then you’re trembling, whining as your cunt clenches and flutters around his cock. His teeth grit with the squeeze of your cumming pussy and Touya has to dig his nails back into your hip so he doesn’t moan- lips pulling into a growling snarl as he tries not to cum with you.

“Nii-san! Nii-san!”

He lets you moan and writhe and mewl until you limp beneath him and then he leans over you, presses his chest flat against your back and curls his fingers into your hair, jerks your head to the side and shoves the phone in your face.

He wants them to see your flushed face and muddied eyes. He wants them to see your fucked out face and fluttering lashes. He wants them to see your face as he cums inside of you, as you cum on his cock again.

Touya fucks into you- movement shallow, his cock still driving in so fucking deep- and you moan, shudder whenever his teeth scrape over your shoulder.

“You like nii-san’s cock fuckin’ deep inside you?”

“Oh- oh, yes! Love it nii-san!”

It comes out whiny- so fucking needy. Touya grunts when your cunt pulses around him and he fucks into you rough, makes you mewl out his name.

“Nii-san’s gonna fuckin’ fill ya,” he snarls. “Fill your tight lil cunt. Gonna fuckin’ breed ya! Breed my sweet lil sis- fuckin’ shit- gonna cream that cunt!”

“Please! Please! Touya- nii please!”

You beg so fucking sweet. Touya snarls and he fucks into you rough, pulls your hair tight as he shoots his cum deep into your needy little pussy, fills you to the goddamn brim with his seed. You cum, again, with him and you moan as you do- so loud and cute.

Whimpers rip from you as he humps his cum deep inside you and you shudder when he grinds into your cunt, coo dreamily whenever he lays a kiss to your flushed cheek.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs.

A mewl as you nod drowsily and Touya snorts at your sleepy smile, turns the camera to his face and sneers before ending the recording.

He drops it in the groupchat before he slides out of you and sits back on his knees. You nuzzle into the covers as he runs his hand through his hair and Touya huffs, snorts as you yawn.

“C’mon,” he tells you- maybe quietly fond in a way he’ll never admit-, “let’s crash.”

You hum and you nod and Touya lets you shuffle under the covers, follows after you and pulls you close.

He clicks off the lamp and the two of you drift off to sleep- satisfaction filling Touya as his phone goes off and a happy smile on your face. 

◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾

Tenko is the first to watch the video.

He gets the notification in the middle of crushing up some pills. His first instinct is to just ignore it, but impulse has him reaching for the phone, has his thumb clicking the play button before he can really think about it.

His brow arches, but he’s not too surprised by the smut dropped into the chat- between Keigo and Touya it happens on the weekly and he’s more than used to it.

He could use new fap material, anyway.

Tenko settles back in his chair and takes his cock out, gives it a stroke as he eyes the cunt filling the screen.

Wet, cute- he’d like to fuck it, fill it.

Why the fuck does Touya always get such sweet pussy?

A scowl twists his lips, but his hand twists along with it- pumps along his shaft as he enjoys the sight of arched hips and a cute ass.

He’d fucking wreck that ass given the chance. Slam his dick deep inside and makes this bitch moan.

“You wanna get fucked, sweetheart?”

“Please!”

Fuck- what a good lil cunt.

Tenko grunts as he rocks into his fist, but then he fucking moans when he sees just who Touya is fucking.

Shit- fuck.

He knew the bastard was twisted but goddamn.

Tenko almost laughs, but he’s too busy jerking himself off even faster- eyes narrowed and teeth gritted, a pant sounding from him.

“Yeah, shit. Fuck that little sluts’s cunt. Breed your lil sis you fucking dick.”

He should be disgusted, probably. Horrified at the very least.

But fuckin’ hell this is hot and he’s been jackin’ it to shit like this for years anyway.

And, fuck, this is real- this is hottest shit he’s watched all month. All goddamn year.

Tenko cums before the clip is even over and he keeps fucking his fist even after, replays it with a hissed curse.

Touya better drop more after this. He better let them see this in real life- Tenko needs to see this slut’s fucked out face in the flesh, needs to shove his fingers into your moaning mouth and make you choke.

Tenko licks his lips and he saves the video- saves it a second time for a back up.

Just in case.

◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾

The second person to see the video is Jin.

He’s home- drunk, high, smoking a cigarette and watching reruns of Doraemon.

He’s feeling fuzzy, good. The night had been chill and he had liked getting a glimpse of Touya’s little sister- you’d been real cute, real sweet. He had wanted you to sit next to him- maybe in his lap like Keigo had teased- and he had wanted to hug you close, get you just as high and fuzzy as him.

He might have a lil puppy dog crush on you now- how could he not with you so shy and sweet?

Jin hums as he thinks of you, scratches his stomach and grins sleepily- one laugh leaving him as he watches Nobita fail once again.

His phone buzzes and Jin fumbles a hand over until he can pick up, blinks and raises a brow when he finds a video in the chat.

Someone fucked or someone did something stupid.

Or fucked someone stupid.

A snort leaves him and Jin takes a draw of his cigarette, lounges back and presses play.

It’s the usual shit- hot and boasting and showing off a cute lil wet cunt, a soft and sweet ass. 

He’s a bit jealous, maybe. (Definitely)

He’s a bit too relaxed and heavy to get off on it, maybe. (No he’s not)

Eyes drawing half-shut, Jin reaches a hand down his sweatpants. He strokes himself lazily as he watches Touya spanks his mewling, whiny little slut and he smokes as he does, too- humming whenever he hears the plea to be fucked.

Cute. (Hot)

Whoever this is seems like a good little girl. (A needy little whore)

A small grunt leaves him when he watches Touya tangle his fingers into hair, but a gasp of “shit” leaves him whenever a head is jerked back and he sees a cute, flushed face that he definitely knows.

“What the fuck?”

He has to pause the video, bring the phone up to his face and squint at the screen.

He’s not seeing this right- can’t be seeing this right. He’s too drunk, too stoned. too fucked up- his vision is betraying him. It has to be.

...right?

Jin stares at the screen. He stares and stares and stares. His thumb hovers over the screen, hesitating, and the ashes from his cigarette fall onto his bare chest while he tries to decide what to do.

Touya wouldn’t really...he’s not really fucking his little sister is he?

No way. No fucking way.

(Yes fucking way)

Jin blinks and his thumb hit the screen, he swallows as he watches you beg for your big brother’s cock.

Fuck, that’s sick. That’s disgusting.

(That’s so fucking hot.)

His cheeks flush and his eyes widen, draw back down to lazy slits. His fingers twitch along his cock, tighten back around it when he gets treated with the sound of a whimper, a moan.

You sound so fucking good. (You sound so fucking whiny)

You’re so cute- you probably have such a tight, wet little pussy. (You probably have such a sloppy, fucked out cunt if Touya fucks you like this on the regular)

Shit, he wants to know how your cunt feels. He wants you on his lap, wants to feel you clench around his cock like a good little girl.

(A good little whore)

It’s too much to watch- too much to handle. Jin closes his eyes and tilts his head back with a groan, jerks himself to all the mewls and growls and groans and begs that sounds from the phone.

He comes along to the sound of you coming and he shudders after it, drags his hand over his cock and wipes the mess over his sweats.

...fuck. He shouldn’t have done that- he shouldn’t have watched that. He’s not going to be able to look you in the eyes if he ever gets to see you again.

(Fuck your eyes- he wants to look up your skirt, see that cute little pussy again)

Jin frowns and he runs his hand through his hair, tosses his burnt out cigarette into the ashtray before lighting another.

On the tv, Doraemon laughs. On his phone, Touya kisses your cheek and smirks at the camera- at Jin.

Fuckin’ dick. (Lucky bastard)

Jin shakes his head and he closes his eyes again, takes a draw and blows out a plume of smoke toward the ceiling.

...he’s got some fucked up friends. (No more fucked up than him)

A grimace and then Jin looks to his phone, taps on the screen and watches through heavy lidded eyes as his friend fucks his sweet little sister.

◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾◾

Keigo’s the last to see the video- he finds it in the chat after he’s sent the neighbor girl back home, after he’s gotten some head and drawled out promises of feelings that he’ll never feel for some dumb little whore with aspirations of home in the ‘burbs and a passel of brats.

He snorts when he sees it, thinks it’s just some busted bitch that Touya talked into coming over so he could rail his anger out.

Touya’s always been a touchy little shit.

He stills plays it, though- drops down on to his bed and kicks back, takes a swig of beer.

It’s a pretty little cunt that gets flashed his way- wet and eager, nice and snug looking. Keigo rolls his eyes whenever Touya’s fuckin’ voice sounds, but he’d be lying if he didn’t enjoy the sight of that cute cunt sucking in a rough thumb, the sound of a little whimpers and mewls.

Not a bad pussy, not a bad voice- maybe this slut isn’t that busted?

Or maybe she’s just a butterface.

A snort and Keigo lazily works his hand down his chest, underneath his sweatpants. He strokes him even if he’s just half hard and he lets his gaze drift to something half-lidded, amused and lazy.

“So fuckin’ wet and warm. So tight. “All for me, baby- right?”

Fuckin’ show off- as if this one ups the coed Keigo had last week, as if this one ups the way he had fucked her throat raw in the library and came all over her dumb face, all over her fat tits.

“Y- yes. It’s all- all for you!”

Wait a second...

Keigo blinks and his brow arches as he watches Touya lays a smack across a cute little ass.

That voice sounds kind of familiar. Someone he’s fucked before? Did Touya snag one of his sloppy seconds?

Fuckin’ maybe- fucker is stupid and petty enough to do that.

Not that Keigo cares, though- he’s never fucked anyone that he’d get jealous over.

It’s more funny than anything, actually.

Keigo snorts, again, and he pumps his cock with a sneer.

“You ever been with anyone but me?”

Yeah, you’ve been with someone better. Will probably come crawling back to him, too, when you’re left dissatisfied by Touya’s weak ass stroke game.

“N- no! Just you! Just Touya!”

...what?

“You want anyone else?”

“No! Never!”

What?

Who the fuck is this bitch?

Keigo scoffs as he hears a beg to be fucked sound, rolls his eyes as he watches skinny fingers tangle into hair.

Maybe he’ll have to hunt down this slut and wreck her, shove it in Touya’s face right back.

Keigo drags his palm over his cock right as Touya jerks a headful of hair back and Keigo damn near crushes his dick whenever he catches sight of just who Touya has caught in his clutches.

Oh that fucking bastard. That son a bitch.

A slew of curses hisses from him and Keigo snarls as he takes in your teary, needy face, as he hears his creep of a friend’s little sister beg to be fucked by Touya.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

The growl spits out of him and Keigo is barely aware of it- can’t fucking care about it as he watches Touya nail his cute lil sis.

This is absolute fucking bullshit. He can’t believe that fucking prick is railing his sister. He can’t believe that petty fucking asshole is dumb enough to show it off.

What the fuck? What the absolute fuck?

Keigo’s hand moves faster and he snarls as he twists his wrist, as pre-cum spills all over his fingers.

Touya doesn’t fucking deserve that cute lil pussy. Touya doesn’t deserve to rail you with your sweet ass and mewling moan and hot little whines. Touya doesn’t fucking deserve you at all.

It doesn’t cross his mind for one moment how wrong the whole situation is. It doesn’t cross his mind that he should be disgusted over a brother fucking his little sister, that he should be disgusted over the way Touya hisses promises of fucking breeding his little sister’s cunt.

If he’s disgusted it’s only because he’s not the one fucking you- that Touya got to you first.

Oh, Touya is going to fucking regret this.

He’s going to fucking ruin you.

Keigo hisses as he cums and he growls as Touya’s stupid fucking lips quirk into a smirk on the screen, snarls and throws his phone down onto the bed as his hips jerk and pound against his fist.

“Fucking bitch! Stupid fucking whore!”

No wonder you were so goddamn shy. No wonder you didn’t sit in his lap like you should’ve. It wasn’t him- it was you; it was Touya.

The beer bottle gets swiped to the floor and Keigo growls as he rips his hand from his pants and scrubs the cum on his sheets.

Touya’s going to fucking pay for this.

Keigo saves the video and he scowls as he does- face dark, teeth gritted, stormy plans of revenge brewing in his mind.

#touya todoroki x reader #tw incest #tw breeding kink #it took me forever to finish this but god i do love this concept :'3

[a-singleboat]

His Shirt

Word Count: 1533

A/N: I literally have no excuse, but I’m back!

Request: Can I request something where the reader and Shayne have been seeing each other for a little while and she unknowingly wears one of his shirts to work and the whole day goes by like normal but towards the end of it, someone like Noah or something ends up questioning it like “how has no one noticed this, or mentioned it all freaking day?!” And Shayne gets shy about it but the reader just laughs it off and it’s all cute and fluffy af💕💕- Anon

Over quarantine, you’d seen very little of any of your friends and coworkers. Working from home was tough, especially since you and your partner had just made the decision to move in with each other a week before the entire country had been submerged into a lockdown that stretched over a few months. The days blended together and eventually dragged on, which made you excited to return to work if anything. 

The morning of your official return, you woke up extremely early, not having been able to sleep the night before due to pure excitement. You wanted to get back to filming, to doing all the things you did before going into quarantine, you missed the hustle and bustle of set life. 

You were dressed before Shayne was, throwing on a button up from your shared closet as well as a pair of dark-wash jeans that only felt a little tight at the waist. You weren’t concerned, seeing as you were never really on the skinny side of fitness, you figured it was just early morning bloating that would go away as the day went on.

“Are you driving or am I?” you asked, bouncing on the balls of the feet as you waited for Shayne to pull on a thin jacket. It wasn’t fully winter yet but it also wasn’t cold enough to constitute a full coat. You had a thinner track jacket on as well, the zipper zipped only part of the way up in your hurry. 

Shayne paused by you to pull up the zipper the rest of the way before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Calm down,” he advised, pulling his mask on over the bottom half of his face. “We still have to grab breakfast before heading to the offices, Courtney asked if we could stop by that bagel place by us she likes.”

“Is it even open?” you asked, patting down your pockets to make sure you had everything. Once you were sure you had your phone, keys, and wallet, you then realized that you had completely forgotten your purse inside. You whirled around to head back inside when Shayne handed you the black bag, a knowing smirk on his face. 

“They’re open for pickups only,” he told you, pulling your keys from your pocket, “and I’ll drive, I don’t feel like getting pulled over by the cops today.”

“I’m not that bad at driving,” you tried to defend yourself, hurrying after him as he walked off to the parking lot. “I just take the speed limit signs as suggestions but that doesn’t mean I’m bad at it.”

He didn’t respond, instead holding the passenger seat door open for you. His action was answer enough. You slid into the passenger seat and buckled in as he shut the door tight, running around to the other side and sliding into the driver’s seat. 

“What are we going to tell them when you roll up driving my car, huh?” you questioned. “Our friends know we moved into the same apartment because it was cheaper as roommates, not because we started dating. If you roll up driving my car they’ll have questions.”

“It’ll be fine,” he tried to parlay your worries. “Besides, if you’re that concerned about it I can just say you had a headache or didn’t feel like driving after we got to the bagel shop. Not the end of the world.”

You sank back into your seat, coming to terms with the fact that Shayne was not going to let you drive. He pulled out of the parking lot as One Direction played softly in the background, the aux cord trailing from its socket to the connector on your phone as you dictated what you listened to on the way to the bagel shop. 

Shayne got out of the car when you got there, heading in to pick up the order you had called ahead for on the way there. He was back before Temporary Fix ended, handing the bagels over to you as you switched over to Alec Benjamin for the rest of the ride in. 

You ate your bagel on the way in, putting the vegetable spread evenly over the toasted bread and eating it as Water Fountain played. You held out a bit of your bagel, silently asking if Shayne wanted any. He took the bite, smiling when he realized you accidentally got cream cheese on his cheek. You reached out with a napkin and wiped it off before finishing the rest of your bagel. 

You arrived at the offices shortly after, unplugging your phone from the aux and exiting the vehicle. Luckily, no one was outside to see the two of you enter the building. You would say you were walking a little too closely for it to be considered friendly, especially during a pandemic, but everyone knew that the two of you were close friends anyways. Walking close together wouldn’t give anything away. 

“What do you have to film today?” you made small talk in the elevator, getting to your working mindset. You knew what you had to do, film a gaming video with Ian, Noah, and Courtney, as well as take a look and collaborate with the writers on a new skit idea for when production went back to being fully up and running. It would be a short day for you, which wasn’t ideal but at least you got some camera time.

Shayne looked up from his phone. “I’ve got the meeting with the crew and then some gaming videos, I think. We’re also planning for the Christmas video soon, so I’ll probably be with Wardrobe for most of the day.”

You hummed as the elevator doors opened, Shayne tucking his phone away and then sending you a wink. You felt your face burn hot as you scrunched up your nose. You reached up to fix your mask as you waited for the elevator to go up to the main office floor, heading straight for your desk where a pack of Lysol wipes and a temperature gun were waiting. 

Proactive, you thought, using the wipes to clean off the surface of your desk before finally setting your things down. You took your jacket off, draping over the back of your chair before sitting. You had about thirty minutes before your call time so you checked your email and went over a few of the new safety regulations that were put in place for filming.

The most notable were the fifteen-minute COVID tests you would have to take before and after each section of filming, meaning you couldn’t enter or exit the filming area without a negative test. Honestly, that was a good thing if any. At least the company cared in that way. 

Filming took up the rest of your day and when you finally finished with your writer’s meeting, it was six pm. Not as early as a day as you would have hoped but you’ve definitely stayed in the studio for longer so you weren’t going to complain. 

You were sitting at your desk as you waited for Shayne to finish up his meeting, casually chatting with Noah to pass the time. You were sharing one of your quarantine stories when Shayne walked in, heading straight for your desk with his things already collected. 

“Are you ready to go?” he asked, adjusting her jacket. “Also, what do you want for dinner tonight because I was thinking we could have lasagna but if we want lasagna we have to stop by the market on the way.”

You laughed, pulling your jacket on. “I could go for lasagna.”

Noah looked between the two of you, slowly connecting the dots. He pointed at you, a grin on his face as realization crossed his features. “That’s Shayne’s shirt.”

You looked down, realizing that, yeah, you were wearing Shayne’s shirt. You looked over at Shayne who’s cheeks were as red as a tomato. He started stammering, offering reasons as to why you were wearing his shirt. 

You just shrugged, quickly thinking for a way out. “The laundry must have gotten mixed up. Not the first time I’d accidentally worn his shirts.” 

 Noah gave you a look that read that he didn’t quite believe you. But he let it go, taking note of Shayne’s red cheeks and your flustered looks. He smirked, patting your shoulder as he got up. 

“I’ll believe you for now,” he said, leaving the two of you to stew in your minor embarrassment. 

“How long until everyone knows?” you asked Shayne who looked only mildly mortified that Noah was the first to find out. “We weren’t even keeping it a secret either… I’m proud of us anyhow.”

“I guess that means we don’t have to worry about who sees us now,” he said, looking on the bright side. “And yeah, keeping it a secret any longer would have been kinda dumb, wouldn’t it have been.”

You headed to the elevators, linking your arm through Shayne’s. 

“Not excited for the fans to find out, though.”

Shayne looked at you and then looked back at the opening elevator doors. “We don’t have to tell them. It can be Smosh’s little secret.”

TAGLIST

@beautiful-holland​ @toms-order​ @starlightfound​  @positiveparker​ @bippity-boppity-boopa​ @caswinchester2000​ @andreasworlsboring101 @imladylunaticbitch​ @paige0103​ @theofficialzivadavid​

#shayne topp #shayne topp x reader #shayne #topp #reader #shayne topp imagine #shayne topp fluff #fluff #his shirt #Noah Grossman #Courtney Miller #ian hecox #one direction #alec benjamin #smosh #smosh games

[ragingbookdragon]

The Daughter Of Superman, The Adopted Son Of Batman...What Could Go Wrong? PT. 1

Jason Todd x Kryptonian!Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 3.8K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: I totally forgot about this one! If you like how cute and fluffy it is, just wait for PT. 2! It gets angsty >:) -Thorne

**********************************************************************

They were pretty lazy teenagers when they weren’t busy saving the world with super speed, strength, and smarts. Even if their textbooks were spread all over his bed they were still too lazy to actually do their homework, instead scrolling through social media apps and trolling all the citizens of San Francisco about the identities of the Young Justice Team.

She glanced up from the advanced calculus textbook and stared at the boy laying across her thighs. “Tim, isn’t your dad hosting a gala this weekend?” he hummed in response, and she asked, “Are we allowed to come?”

He didn’t bother looking up from the tablet he was tapping at and nodded. “Yeah. Bruce already added your names to the list, (Y/N).” a flicker of a smile came over his lips and he added, “Of course I had to wear him down in order to get Bart on the list.”

She looked over at their speedster and grinned. “I’m kinda surprised Bruce actually let you on the list Bart.”

A shocked expression etched across his face and he questioned, “Why do you say that?”

(Y/N) shifted Tim’s head, smiling as he grunted from being moved, and rose from the bed, walking over to the minifridge. She pulled out a soda before jumping back on the bed. “Because between you, Tim, Conner, and me, you’re the one who gets us into the most trouble.” She shifted Tim’s head back into her lap, petting his hair until he smiled.

“I do not!”

“Oh really? Do you remember prom night? It’s been almost two years and they stillcall us and talk about the absolute mess we—well, you caused.”

“That cake wasn’t there when I started running, I swear!” he pointed at Tim. “Tim it wasn’t! You know that!”

The others cackled at his protest, and (Y/N) glanced at Conner. “You gonna bring M’Gann?”

A faint pink tinged his cheeks, and he shifted his gaze down at his physics textbook. “Uh…maybe.”

(Y/N) leaned forward, poking his cheek. “Your heart’s beating pretty fast, little brother.”

He swatted her hand and glared at her. “Shove off.”

She snorted and glanced at Tim. “What about you, Timbers? You going to go with Stephanie?”

“Steph and I aren’t dating anymore, (Y/N).”

“For now. But you two like each other.” She smiled and singsonged, “She’s your first love~”

“What about you?” Tim scowled. “Who’s your date?”

She grunted at him and laid flat in the bed, Bart’s legs under her back. “Are you kidding me? You know my dad won’t let me get a boyfriend, let alone a date to a gala for a night.”

“You’re nineteen, (Y/N). I think you’re allowed to start dating.”

“And my parents help pay for part of my utilities. Does it look like I’m going to do anything to tip that delicate balance of not having to pay for all that?” she sighed. “Dad’s always been that way when it comes to me.”

“Daddy’s little girl.” Conner grinned.

(Y/N) grunted and reached over, shoving Conner off the bed. “Don’t call me that. I am not a daddy’s girl.”

The others laughed at her and Tim quipped, “Yes, you are. You two go on father-daughter dates every month and take pictures to show everyone.” She glared at him and he smiled, continuing, “Maybe we can find a date for you at the gala.”

“You can try. But mom and dad are going to be there. If dad sees me with a boy, he’s liable to lose his mind.” The others laughed again, and (Y/N) rested her head down on Bart’s lap. “I need a dress, Timmy.”

He glanced over at her and tapped a few buttons before showing her the screen. “How does this look?”

(Y/N) took the tablet from him and looked over it, taking in the image of the navy-blue dress. “I like the color, but this is a Cinderella dress. Give me something not as…poofy.” He nodded and took the tablet back, tapped on it, then handed it back to her. “Hmm…too booby.” The other two boys giggled at her answer and Tim sighed, taking the tablet again.

He handed it back to her once more and she looked at the dress. “Mermaid silhouette…sheer side…strappy back…” She glanced up at Tim and nodded. “Got a pair of shoes to match?” He hummed and she grinned. “Then I’ll take it. Thanks Timbers.” He nodded once more, and she nudged Bart. “Oi Allen.”

“What?”

“Don’t run into the cake at the gala, okay? It’ll probably cost more than you.”

“It was an accident! Stop bringing it up!” The others simply laughed at him.

***At The Kent Farm***

“Mom! Dad! Jon! I’m home!” She shut the door behind her and turned, catching Jon who’d launched himself at her. “Kid you’re getting too big to do that.” He laughed at her and she let him down, ruffling his hair. “Where’s mom and dad?”

“Out back with Krypto.” He tugged on her sweatshirt. “Did you bring me anything from the tower, sissy? Did ya? Did ya?”

(Y/N) snorted and rummaged in her pocket, pulling out one of Tim’s crimson shurikens. “Tim gave this to me to give to you.” She handed it to him but held it when he reached for it, “Do not,” she warned firmly, “cut yourself with this or mom and dad will make you give it back after they finish tearing me a new one for giving it to you.”

“I won’t!” he promised and she watched his eyes light up in wonder when he took it. She ruffled his hair once more before walking towards the backdoor.

She stepped outside and saw her dad throwing a ball with Krypto, her mom watching from the back porch; she walked over and leaned down, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Hey, mom.”

Lois glanced up at her and smiled. “Hey, sweetheart. You’re home early.”

(Y/N) nodded, sitting down beside her. “School let out for the week, and we didn’t have any missions from the Justice League, so I figured I’d spend a few days here instead of cooped up in the tower.”

“I’m glad you decided to come home, hon. It’s always nice when you come back.”

She looked up and saw Clark walking towards her. “Hey, dad.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Hey sweetheart, how were the boys?”

“They’re good. We did our usual thing.”

Clark sat on her other side. “Collapse on Tim’s bed and lay around like lethargic teenagers?”

(Y/N) snorted and shoved his shoulder lightly. “We were productive young adults. We finished over-break assignments and reports. Well…mostly. Still got that thirty page physics paper I have to write but…I’ll let that stew awhile.”

He chuckled. “Anything else happen today?”

“Talked about the gala this weekend.” She paused. “You guys are coming too, right?” They nodded and (Y/N) laid back on the porch, pulling out her phone. “Ugh…I remember how badly the Wi-Fi sucked out here. I don’t have any service at all.” She looked at her mom. “I don’t how a journalist like you manages to live in the middle of nowhere like this and still stay sane.”

Lois snorted and thumped her leg. “It’s called satellite service. Now c’mon, let’s go inside. Dinner should be done by now.” (Y/N) rose from the porch and they all began walking in when the sound and feel of rushing air came over them. She and Clark immediately spun, ready to defend themselves when they saw Conner hovering in the sky.

His eyebrows were drawn in slight concern. “(Y/N)! We need you!”

She nodded, shucking off her sweatshirt and pants, revealing the blue suit underneath. The crimson cape billowed around her and she glanced up at him. “What’s the situation?”

“We’ve got simultaneous bank robberies all over SF. Bart and Tim are already on the first few. I came to get you.”

(Y/N) turned to her parents. “Rain check on dinner guys.” She turned in the direction of San Fransisco, eyes darting wildly as she viewed her teammates positions. After a second, she nodded. “I’ve got em, Bart’s on the east, Tim’s on south. You take north and I’ll take west.”

He nodded and she shot up from the ground. They were almost in San Francisco when her father’s voice reached her. “Be careful, (Y/N).”

She curled her fists when the bank doors came into view and responded, “Always am, dad.”

***

“The dress looks fine, (Y/N).”

She glanced up at Tim who was smiling at her; she let out a sigh, letting go of the side strap she’d been tugging, still semi-uncomfortable with how it fit. “I know it does. But I feel like it’s still a little…grown up for me. I’ve never had a dress this open in the back or the sides since…ever.” The boys laughed and she smiled at Bart and Conner. “I forgot how well you two cleaned up.”

Bart pulled at both sides of the bowtie and winked at her, while Conner merely grunted, “I still hate tuxedos.”

“You’re definitely going to hate the long hours of your wedding then.” They laughed once more, and the car pulled around the venue.

Tim looked at them and grinned. “Show time, lady and gents.” They followed him out of the limo, grinning at the cameras as they walked inside.

Immediately, the view made her eyes go wide and she gaped. “Damn…this place is…really big.”

Tim shrugged nonchalantly, “I dunno, the ballroom in Wayne manor is bigger, but definitely more expensive.”

Bart shook his head. “Tim, my dude…we live on minimum wage not a billionaire’s salary.” (Y/N) and Conner simply nodded, still dumbfounded at the sheer size.

Tim rolled his eyes and looked around. “There’s Bruce and the others.”

She glanced in the direction he was looking and she saw her parents with Bruce. “Looks like mom and dad are busy chatting.” The others nodded and she turned to Tim. “What exactly are we supposed to do at a gala?”

“Have fun?” (Y/N) heaved a sigh and stared at him until he said, “You dance and drink and eat. That’s all you do.” He waved his hands. “Go knock yourselves out.”

They started to fan out when (Y/N) called out to them. “Wait!” They paused, turning back around. “We should go talk to Bruce and tell him thanks for inviting us.” They nodded and followed Tim over to Bruce.

He saw them coming and turned, holding out his hand to her. “Good to see you, (Y/N). You look wonderful this evening.”

Her cheeks warmed at the compliment and she smiled, giving his hand a firm shake. “It’s good to see you too, Mister Wayne, you don’t look too bad yourself. Thank you for inviting us to the gala.” The others shook his hand, and she turned to her parents. “Hey mom, dad.”

Lois walked around her and squealed, “You look so beautiful!”

(Y/N) cleared her throat, feeling her cheeks warm as the others smiled in her direction. “Mom…chill out, you’re embarrassing me.” She merely laughed but stepped back over to Clark’s side and (Y/N) looked around. “Bart have you—and he’s already at the buffet table.” Snickers sounded behind her and she sighed. “I’m going to make sure that the bottomless pit doesn’t devour all your food before your guests can eat, Mister Wayne.”

They watched her walk off and when she got over to the table Bart was standing in front of, she saw him shoving food in his mouth. “Oh my god…Bart, what are you doing?”

He turned to her, and swallowed, a sheepish smile crossing his face. “I haven’t eaten anything today,” he licked his thumb clean. “I’m hungry.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and sighed. “Just try not to eat your fingers, would you?”

He snorted and pointed to an appetizer. “You should try the pigs-in-a-blanket. They’ve got this sauce on top that’s just—.”

A low voice cut him off. “They have pigs-in-a-blanket! What!” They turned to see a young man a couple years older than them reaching over. “The old man’s never had something this plain at a gala.” He popped one in his mouth, then turned to them. “You’re Timberly’s friends, right?”

They nodded and (Y/N) gazed, something about him tugging at her mind. “I know you from somewhere.” She stared into his teal eyes and suddenly she remembered where she knew him from; she’d never forget those teal eyes and how angry they’d been. “You’re Jason Todd, aren’t you? Bruce’s second son.”

He grinned. “That’s me. Have you and I met before? I have to agree with you, because you look really familiar.”

(Y/N) glared at him and crossed her arms, spitting. “We met in the Hall of Fallen Titans three years ago.”

Jason’s eyes briefly widened, before they narrowed in amusement. “You’re the one who threw me out the third story window after I kicked Timber’s ass.” He chuckled. “You don’t have to worry about all that, doll. Timmy and I are good now. You can ask the speedster about it.”

She continued to glower at him until Bart leaned over, propping his chin on her shoulder. “He’s telling the truth, (Y/N). Tim told me a while back that he and Jason are brothers now.”

Jason nodded and she finally stopped glaring at him. “Just so you know Jason, I can still throw people out windows.”

He smiled and held out a hand, watching her place hers in it; he brought her hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back of it. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, doll.”

Bart poked her side and grinned. “I’m gonna go see Tim and Conner. I’ll leave you two alone.”

He wandered off and (Y/N) pulled her hand back. “So, why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be dead?”

Jason chuckled. “Oh, I was. I got better. We just made up a story about me getting lost, yadda yadda yadda, I’m not important.” He propped his elbow on the wall above her and grinned. “But what is important, is how pretty you look in your dress.”

(Y/N) cocked a brow. “Is that supposed to flatter me?”

“Is it not?”

“It could be a little better.”

He laughed and she found herself smiling along with him. He nodded towards the balcony. “Wanna get some air?”

She nodded, and they walked out into the night. (Y/N) gazed up at the stars and sighed in wonder. “There’s billions of them out there…I’ve never tried to leave earth and go search for them on my own.”

Jason leaned on the railing and gazed at her. “How come?”

(Y/N) shrugged, leaning against the railing too. “Dad’s full Kryptonian…me and Jon are, to use a less than favorable term, half-breeds.” She paused. “I’m not sure if I would survive like dad does out in space.”

“Won’t know ‘til you try.”

She huffed a laugh and looked at him. “If I’m wrong, I might die.”

“And if you try and you’re right, you won’t be dead.”

She shook her head at him, a smile playing at her lips. “You’ve got answers to everything, don’t you, Jason?”

He grinned at her. “I find that being sharp and witty helps with the crowds, doll.” The music sounded from inside the ballroom, and he stepped back, offering her a hand. “May I have this dance?”

(Y/N) rested her hand in his, feeling him pull her close, his other hand resting on her lower back; it was warm against her open skin and she cleared her throat. “I should warn you, I can’t dance to save my life.”

A cocky smirk crossed his lips and he leaned down, his lips brushing her ear. “I can take the lead, doll…all you have to do is give it to me.”

“Your flirtations need work too.”

Jason chuckled in her ear, making her shiver as he pulled back. “I don’t think they do.”

“Arrogance isn’t attractive, Jason.”

“Mhm.”

“It isn’t.”

“I heard you the first time, doll.” As they swayed to the music, he asked, “So, how’d you and Nerd-bird become friends?”

“We met through Conner.”

“The clone?”

“My brother.”

“Sorry.”

“He introduced the two of us, and we’ve been friends ever since.”

“Only friends? Nothing more?”

It was (Y/N)’s turn to smirk and she looked at him. “Are you asking because you want to know if there’s competition?”

He stopped moving and they stood still, her in his arms. “Just want to know if there’s anyone between me and first place.”

She huffed a laugh. “God, you’re something else.” Her eyes found his and she asked, “Do you want to get out of here?”

Jason nodded and stepped back, holding out his hand. “Where do you want to go?”

(Y/N) smirked and stepped forward, closing the distance he’d created, and wrapped an arm around his waist. His teal eyes widened, and she looked back at the party; no one noticed them, and she turned back to face him, “Up, up, and away.” They flew upwards, and she felt him latch onto her. “Why are you acting like I’m going to drop you, Jason?”

He made a waring noise in his throat. “I have a friend who’s an Amazon, and she is…very fond of throwing and dropping me.”

(Y/N) giggled. “Sounds like we’d get along spectacularly. She likes dropping you…I like throwing you out of windows…”

“That was one time. And you caught me when I was off-guard.”

“Uh huh, sure. You got your ass kicked by a sixteen-year-old and I think you’re just bitter.”

He grumbled at her. “Rub it in, why don’t you, doll.” She laughed and lowered them down; their feet hit the roof and he looked at it. “Wayne Enterprises? Why?”

She shrugged. “Cool tower…nice view.” She took a seat on the ledge, listening to him sit beside her.

He leaned over. “Almost romantic…don’t you think?”

(Y/N) eyed him, seeing a goofy smile on his face; she snorted, shoving him lightly. “You’re cheesy.”

“So I’ve been told.”

She glanced back at the water. “You know if this goes anywhere, my dad and your dad aren’t going to be happy.”

Jason snorted, nonchalantly replying, “Doll, there’s a few things I’m afraid of in life. Superman and Batman…are not those things.”

“Is that arrogance or confidence I hear coming through?”

He shrugged. “Probably a bit of both.”

(Y/N) smiled, then she felt his hand rest on hers, letting him link their fingers; she turned her face to him. “Is this the part where you tell me I’m beautiful and ask to kiss me?”

Jason grinned. “No, this is actually the part where I tell you you’re drop dead gorgeous…can I kiss you?”

She giggled, leaning in, and just before his lips brushed hers, she whispered, “You know I can kick your ass, right?”

He groaned. “Should I mention that strong women really do wonders to me?”

(Y/N) huffed a laugh and brought her free hand up, curling in his shirt. “Shut up and kiss me, Jason.”

“With pleasure.” His lips met hers, and she felt him bring his hand up, cupping her cheek. She pulled back ever-so-slightly, but he chased her, pressing his lips to hers again. He let go of her hand and brought his other hand up. He lowered her down until (Y/N)’s back was flat against the ledge; the chill from the stone made her arch her back off it, and press into his chest.

Jason pulled away slightly and smirked at her. “Cold?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “If you want to keep making out, jokes aren’t going to do the job.” He snorted at her and leaned forward again, intent on kissing her senseless when someone cleared their throat, startling them.

They sat up quick as lightning, turning in the direction of the sound. “I wondered where my daughter had flown off to.”

“Oh my god,” she hissed and covered her face with her hands. “Dad. C’mon…seriously?” Clark stepped onto the ledge and walked towards them.

Jason leaned down, whispering, “Is he going to throw me off the ledge?”

This made her giggle despite trying not to and she shoved him. “Shut up, Jason.”

He grinned at her and rose from his position, standing in front of her father. “Mister Kent.”

“That’s my daughter.”

“Oh, I know it is. I still remember how she threw me out of a building a few years ago. I get teary thinking about it.”

The corner of Clarks mouth rose, but then dipped back down, and (Y/N) stood up. “Dad, I’m nineteen. This whole, ‘daddy’s little girl can’t date’ bit, is getting old.” A hurt look crossed his face and she stepped forward, taking his hand. “To you, I’ll always be your little girl, dad. But sooner or later you’ve gotta come to grips with me dating and having…mature relationships.”

Clark held her gaze, then glanced at Jason who grinned and gave a thumbs up. “Does it have to be one of his kids? I mean if it’s going to be, I like Tim.”

“Ew, gross. Tim’s my best friend.”

“What about Dick?”

“Nice butt, but he and Kori are dating.” She paused and smiled at him. “The only one left is Jason, dad.”

Clark eyed Jason once more, then Jason offered, “If it makes you feel any better, I’m slightly afraid of your daughter.”

He sighed. “Thank you, Jason. I can tell.” Turning to her, he cupped her cheek. “It feels like yesterday I was bringing you home for the first time.”

“Dad…stop…we don’t need sentimentality right now.”

Clark hummed and smiled at her, pressing a kiss to her forehead; he turned to Jason and leveled him with a hard look. “I don’t think I need to warn you about what happens if you make her sad.”

Jason gave him a mock salute. “Chances are I’ll be in ICU after I was thrown out a building.”

“Oh my god. Let that go.”

They laughed, and Clark rose from the rooftop. “I’ll need to get back to the party. Don’t do anything crazy.”

They waved him off and (Y/N) turned to Jason. “Do you want to get something to eat?”

He nodded. “There’s a pizza shop down the block from here.”

“Sounds great.” (Y/N) rose a few feet off the roof when she heard a cough behind her.

She spun around and looked down at Jason. “Doll…I don’t know if you know this…but I can’t fly.”

“Whoops. My bad.” She lowered back onto the rooftop and held out her arm.

He walked into it and wrapped an arm around her waist, then tipped his head to her. “Up, up, and away.”

(Y/N) snorted as she rose. “You’re still cheesy, Jason.”

The grip on her waist tightened as he murmured, “I know.”

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader imagines #jason todd x reader imagine #jason todd imagines #jason todd imagine #jason todd #red hood x reader #red hood x reader imagines #red hood x reader imagine #red hood imagines #red hood imagine #red hood #batfamily x reader #batfamily x reader imagines #batfamily x reader imagine #batfamily imagines #batfamily imagine #batfamily #bruce wayne #batman #tim drake #red robin #clark kent #superman #conner kent #superby #bart allen #impulse #dc comics #dc imagines

[nelapanela94]

T.W.: Eating Disorder, throwing up (explicit). You've been warned.

And I wrote this fic because when I trip and fall all I crave is a warm life-saving hug from that special person. Unfortunately, an ocean keeps us apart.  

You flick your hair back over your shoulder and tie it up into a ponytail. One hand gripping the toilet rim while you stick two fingers down your throat and tickle your uvula until the slosh of beer and stew are purged.  

Tears and sweat trickle down your face; you shrivel. You know what this is wrong but that nagging voice tells you otherwise.  

You yank your shirt over your head and toss it away; the stench is unbearable. You hold onto the toiled and clamp your eyes shut, tears squeezing out between your lashes.  

No matter how hard you try, sometimes she wins the match.  

“Oi Y/N! Are you–” 

Fuck 

You leap towards the door but he uses his foot to wedge it and pushes it open. You don’t stand a chance against him. Anger disappointment and despair well up in your chest. It’s heaving wildly and the pressure snags your breath.  

“Leave me alone!” you spat between sobs, your voice cracking. Your chin trembles and your eyes flood with more tears. “Don’t look at me. Please, Levi. Go away!” 

Seeing you like this hurts; it hurts like someone chafing barb wire over every inch of his body. Levi stiffens, his eyes open wide and his lips part, quivering; a hand clenches around the doorknob, threatening to pulverize it.  

“Get out!” You shout. Your tears crash onto the floor painting brown dots on the stone. Feeble fists batter him as you press your head on his chest to push him off, but he doesn’t budge. Instead, with a swift move, he sizes your wrists tight. You gaze up, your quailing orbs entangle with his compassionate, yet inexorable eyes. Concern flashes across his face. Levi doesn’t yield. He holds you firmly and close his breath is flicking the strands of hair messing on your forehead. 

After a few minutes or an eternity, you surrender into his warmth and patience and inflexibility. Levi is determined to not let you fall into the abyss. Little by little, your jittering arms appease. He let go of your wrists and his arms slide around you, caressing your hair while your tears damp his shirt. The cold fabric sticks to his skin.  

Levi helps you undress, and toss your clothes into the dirty laundry basket. He fills the tub. You step inside and sit, embracing your legs and tucking your chin in your knees. His fingers massage your scalp and you close your eyes, basking in the soothing feeling. He rinses de foam and wraps your hair in a towel. 

He kneels by the side of the tub, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. His feather-like kisses tickle your arm and tiny chuckles seep of your mouth. He’d fight tooth and nail for that beautiful laughter to never falter.  

A while later, when your skin goes wrinkly like a raisin, you slip into a clean sleeping gown, brush your teeth, then your hair and let it air dry while Levi finishes cleaning the bathroom.  

He takes you to bed, and both snuggle under the sheets, facing each other.  

“I’m tired,” you mumble. Your head throbs, and your throat still burns.

“I’ll be right here,” Levi coos, and plants a kiss on your forehead. His gentle lips trail down, leaving a kiss on the tip of your nose, your chin, and finally your lips. You fall asleep in his arms. Levi watches you, your chest is rising and falling steadily with peaceful breaths. Little puffs of air brush past your chapped lips. 

Levi hurts too. A whirlpool of anguish and pain surge through his chest. 

He vowed to protect you from any harm, but it’s an adversary he can’t face. An enemy that outstrips him.  

If only he could slip into your head and strangle that voice that causes so much suffering.  

Tears peek at the corners of his eyes.  

#mentions of ED; #cw ED #levi ackerman #levi x oc #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #snk #levi attack on titan #snk levi #levi aot #levi x reader #levi x you

[yournameoneverypage]

Moon Over Miami

Anon request; Shawn Mendes x (y/n).

~3.1k

Warnings: Language.

~ * ~

You scowled at your overflowing carry on. You really didn’t want to bring something bigger, because that would mean baggage check and waiting at luggage carousels and that was just a headache waiting to happen.

Shawn was stretched across your bed on his back, tossing a tennis ball in the air and catching it again. “(Y/n), it’s Miami and we’re only going to be there for four days,” he chuckled. “You do not need to pack so many clothes.”

“Yes, I do. You’re a boy; you don’t understand.”

“First off, I am not a boy. I am a man, and a very attractive one at that.”

You rolled your eyes. Even if you wholeheartedly agreed, you were not going to stroke his ego.

“At the very least, lose most of the makeup. You’ll just sweat it off anyway. And you know I like you better without all that gunk on your face.”

“It doesn’t matter what you do or don’t like, now does it?” you snarked.

He sat up and leaned back against the pillows at the headboard. “I just meant that you’re already so pretty, naturally.”

Shawn was always finding little ways to compliment you and, secretly, you loved it, even if it made you blush, even if it was hard to believe some days.

“Fine.” You threw your hands up in the air in frustration. “You pack for me then.”

“Fine. I will.” He stood from the bed and poked your side. “So dramatic,” he teased, dancing his fingertips from ribcage to hip.

You gave him a small shove, and quickly moved out of tickling range (he knew where your most sensitive spots were). You stuck your tongue out at him.

“Don’t stick it out unless you intend to use it,” he smirked.

“Ha! You wish,” you giggled.

~ * ~

You and Shawn.

It was...confusing.

You had first met him five months ago and had become a regular fixture in his life over the past three. You were friends, good friends. Good friends who spent a ridiculous amount of time together. Good friends who flirted. A lot.

There were feelings, definitely on your side, growing stronger every day you spent together, and you were starting to believe there were deeper feelings on his side as well.

Other than outright pressing your lips to his, and you had never really been that forward with anyone, you weren’t sure what to do to tip the scales from friendship and flirtation to more.

You could simply tell him you were falling for him and that you wanted to take your relationship to the next level, but that scared you even more than the thought of kissing him.

~ * ~

Fifteen minutes later, Shawn stood smugly beside you. Your bag was packed neatly, and you were happy with everything he chose (not that you would admit that to him), which showed you he knew you better than you thought he did. There was even enough room left over for accessories.

It shouldn’t have surprised you; he was pretty adept at packing, having been on tour so often.

“Shut up,” you mumbled.

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“But you want to.”

Shawn laughed.

You only added two things, just to prove a point.

~ * ~

You may as well have been in Florida with only Brian and Connor for as often as Shawn had been around the first two days.

The trip had started out incredibly.

You took a redeye from LA to Miami. Shawn held your hand during takeoff and landing. It was your first time flying first class; you didn’t care that you slept through most of it.

Shawn had rented a 3-bedroom beachfront bungalow for the long weekend and had ordered a breakfast basket to be waiting for you when you got there. Everyone ate their fill of croissants and muffins and fresh fruit while you sipped your tea and coffee. Afterward you all agreed that a morning nap poolside sounded ideal.

Shawn claimed the double lounger for the two of you. You curled up beside him and he threw a light blanket over both his and your legs. You laid your head on his shoulder and were asleep within minutes.

When you opened your eyes again, after the best nap you may have ever had in your life thus far, Shawn was no longer beside you. You could see him just inside the back door, talking on his phone.

“Hey,” he announced, returning to the patio, after seeing that you, Brian, and Connor had all awoken. “I’m going to catch up with Camila. I’ll text you after lunch; see where you are.”

~ * ~

You didn’t see Shawn again that first day until you were making plans to spend the evening in South Beach for sunset drinks, dinner, and then a pub crawl for even more drinking.

The boys teased you for being such a lightweight. You were blissfully buzzed, which made it easier for you to let your inhibitions go. Shawn was more intoxicated than you were, which made it a lot easier for you to tug him onto the dance floor.

Flush against him while you moved together to the music, fingertips grazing bare skin, it was too easy to forget that you had been upset with him at all.

Spending all afternoon at the Bayside Market in the hot Miami sun, followed by a night of drinking and dancing into the very early hours of the morning had finally caught up with you. By the time you made it back to the bungalow, you were piggyback on Shawn, your sandals dangling from his fingers by the straps.

~ * ~

Day 2 began with three boys nursing hangovers much worse than yours. You did little things to annoy them, on purpose, which was, admittedly, not very nice of you. You knew they’d had enough when they decided to throw you in the pool. When Shawn reached out, laughing, to help you out, you pulled him in instead.

He chased you into one of the corners of the deep end, trapping you between the pool wall and his hard, wet chest, his arms on either side of you. You had to hold onto his biceps to keep yourself afloat, which, from the look in his eyes, was exactly how and where he wanted you.

Your heart was telling you to use this position to your advantage, finally tip those scales, and you might have if it had been the night before when you were a little drunk. Regretfully, you were sober and when you were sober you tended to overthink things. Now that you were sober, he was too close.

You ducked underwater, under his arm, and quickly pulled yourself out of the pool.

~ * ~

Once you were dry and dressed, you dragged Shawn, Connor, and Brian to Wynwood to go on a golf cart tour of the Walls. They had all been to Miami before, more than once, so they had put you in charge of the itinerary.

From Wynwood you made your way to Little Havana.

After a string of late afternoon texts from Camila, Shawn asked if she could join the four of you for dinner. He wanted you to meet her.

They tried their best to be inclusive throughout dinner, and Camila was certainly nice enough, but still you felt like the fifth wheel, the spare, most of the time.

After dinner, Shawn and Camila wandered off together. When it became clear that Shawn wouldn’t be returning to the house with the rest of you, your heart sank. You stewed in your hurt until it became anger.

You understood that Camila was one of Shawn’s best friends, and he hadn’t seen her for a while. You could forgive him for the day before, but this was supposed to be your trip. You, Brian, Connor, and Shawn. D'Artagnan and the Three Musketeers. If all Shawn had wanted to do was hang out with Camila, why had he bothered to invite you at all? You held no grudge against or felt any ill will toward Camila. It wasn’t her fault that Shawn was being a clueless dick.

~ * ~

You were laying on your side, looking out the window of which you forgot to close the blinds. The moon reflected off the still water of the pool that you could see from your room.

You heard the quietest clearing of someone’s throat. You rolled over to see Shawn leaning against the frame of the doorway, bare chested, in soft gray pajama bottoms.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you asked softly. You couldn’t sleep either, even though you were exhausted.

You really didn’t want to spend the remainder of your time in Miami being angry with him. There were still two days left. You patted the mattress on the empty side of your bed. That was all the invitation he needed.

Shawn crawled into bed beside you, tugged on the open collar of the other half of his pajamas, and chuckled, “Thief.”

“It’s so soft, and it smells like you,” you whispered.

Shawn laid his head on your stomach and you instinctively started to run your fingers through his hair, tugging gently on his curls. You heard him sigh deeply, contentedly, and the next thing you remembered was waking up to the bright morning sun.

~ * ~

You smiled and stretched languidly. Shawn must have made his way back to his own room during the night sometime. You didn’t hear anyone else up and about yet. You decided to surprise the boys by making breakfast.

Brian and Connor stumbled into the kitchen, following the smell of sizzling bacon and strong coffee.

“Is Shawn still sleeping?” you asked.

Connor and Brian exchanged a look. Connor cleared his throat and said, “Shawn isn’t here.”

You didn’t even have to ask where he had gone. Returning to your room you retrieved your phone on the nightstand. You hadn’t bothered to check it when you woke up.

There was a group text from Shawn that read:

Grabbing a workout and then a quick breakfast with Camila. Be back soon.

Brian and Connor were nearly finished eating when Shawn returned, oblivious to what he was walking into. He grabbed a few slices of bacon and sat down to join them at the kitchen island.

“Where’s (y/n)?”

Brian and Connor shook their heads at him. “You can be such a prick sometimes,” Brian said. Both he and Connor then stood and left the room.

Confused, Shawn glanced around and suddenly it all made sense. “Shit,” he said to himself, under his breath.

~ * ~

Shawn stood in your bedroom doorway like he had the night before.

“I’m sorry, (y/n).”

You refused to acknowledge him.

“I didn’t know you were going to make breakfast or I would have been back sooner.”

You wanted to bite at him that he shouldn’t have been gone at all.

You had just pulled on your swimsuit cover up when you turned to him. His eyes snapped from your ass to your eyes. You slipped on your sunglasses, grabbed your beach bag, and said, “Brian, Connor, and I will be on the beach, if you decide you want to join us.” You pushed past him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he replied.

~ * ~

You purposely chose to wear the smallest, sexiest bikini you had with you. It wasn’t one you yourself would have packed but since Shawn had been the one to pack your carry on he must have wanted to see you in it. The day you bought it was a day when you were feeling particularly confident in your body.

By the time Shawn made it down to the beach, he found you in conversation with two young men who weren’t Brian or Connor. You had removed your cover up and stood before them in your tiny white string bikini.

You were laughing at something one of them was saying. Shawn saw you reach out and briefly place your hand on his forearm.

Shawn was unprepared for the surge of violent irritation that nearly overtook him.

He saw you notice him. He bristled when you leaned in and said something in the other man's ear. He watched as you slid the temple tip of your sunglasses between your teeth. He saw you put your hand on your waist and slightly arch your back. He watched as you touched the small pendant of the necklace you were wearing and drew it away from the skin between your breasts.

Shawn hated the way the two men were looking at you. His stomach churned; his muscles tensed; his heart felt too tight in his chest. He couldn't take anymore.

Sidling up beside you, he wrapped his large hand around the nape of your neck, gently yet possessively.

“Oh, hi Shawn,” you said casually, shrugging out of his grip. “Meet my new friends, Chase and Evan.” You smiled at them, fluttering your eyelashes and biting softly on your lower lip.

“Boyfriend?” Chase asked.

“Oh no, Shawn and I are just friends.” You eased closer to Evan and reached out, meaning to touch the bracelet he was wearing, but before you could, Shawn grabbed your wrist.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” he gritted through a fake smile, pulling you away.

“Let go of me,” you snapped. He did, immediately. He never had nor would he ever do anything to physically hurt you.

Brian and Connor, having seen more than enough, hurried toward you. They made you and Shawn take a step back.

“What the hell is going on?” Connor exclaimed.

“(Y/n) is being childish,” Shawn growled.

Maybe you were, but you were upset, goddamn it. “Me?! Look who’s talking! You’re acting like a jealous boyfriend! You have no claim on me!”

“You’re both being childish!” bit Brian. “And you’re starting to cause a scene. Get over yourselves and fucking talk like adults. If you can’t, walk away,” he admonished.

Shawn ran a hand through his hair and tugged frustratingly on his curls before storming off.

Brian gestured for Connor to stay with you and he followed after Shawn.

“Why did you have to antagonize him?” Connor questioned.

You glared at him. “This is not my fault. Of course you’re on his side.”

“I am on no one’s side. You’re both at fault, and you fucking know it. Yeah, he’s kind of been an asshole, but you didn’t have to flirt with those guys so brazenly right in front of him.” Connor’s voice softened. “You know how he feels about you, (y/n). You should apologize.”

You were thoroughly abashed but still feeling stubborn. You turned on Connor and said, “I will when he does.”

You put your cover up back on, slipped into your sandals, and grabbed your clutch which held your wallet, your eReader, and your phone. You trusted Connor to bring everything else back to the bungalow for you.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“For a walk. I need to be alone.”

~ * ~

The sun was going down when you returned to the house.

When you walked in the door, Shawn, who had been sitting on the edge of the ottoman, stood, and approached you cautiously. He rubbed the back of his neck. “You were starting to worry us,” he said softly.

“I’m sorry. I needed some time to cool off and to think.”

“I’m just glad you’re safe.” His relief was palpable. He stepped even closer to you. “I’m sorry. For how I acted and what I said on the beach. It’s inexcusable.”

“I am, too. I should never have purposely tried to upset you.” You unconsciously reached out and ran your fingertips along the V of Shawn’s t-shirt. “That was the first time we’ve ever fought... I didn’t like it.”

He covered your hand with his, flattening your palm against his heart, which you could feel was beating quite quickly. “Come and have dinner. It’s time to stop thinking and start talking.”

He smirked and began walking backward, hand still over yours.

It was that smirk that set your heart thumping. You followed, curiously, anxiously.

On the back patio was a romantic table set for two, surrounded by tea lights and lit candles.

“Shawn? What’s going on?” you asked, breathlessly.

He crossed to the table and pulled one of the chairs out for you. “Sit, Love. Eat.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“What?” He felt as if his heart might break.

“Too many butterflies.” You softly bit your bottom lip.

“Oh,” he breathed.

“Can we talk first?”

“Of course.”

You walked over to and sat down on the outdoor sectional.

Shawn dropped down beside you with a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, (y/n). I’ve been, well, an asshole seems to be the overall consensus. I shouldn’t have ditched you to spend so much time with Camila.”

“I know you’re close,” you said, “and I know it had been awhile since you’d seen her. I tried to be understanding.”

“No,” he interrupted, “this is on me. This was supposed to be our trip. You, Brian, Connor, and me.”

“D'Artagnan and the Three Musketeers,” you said in unison and you both laughed.

Shawn leaned closer you. “Do you want to know the truth?” he asked, as if it was the greatest secret he held, which, to him, it was. “She was talking me through my feelings for you.” He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “She made it very clear to me that I was ‘estúpido’ for spending time with her instead of the person I should be, for talking through my feelings with her instead of with the one I really needed to talk with.”

“You have feelings for me?” you breathed, feeling your entire body flush, not just your cheeks.

Shawn laughed softly and took your hands in his, intertwining your fingers. “It’s not obvious? I was jealous of those other guys because I want to be the boyfriend. I want the right to call you mine... I’m falling in love with you, (y/n). Which is insane since we haven’t even kissed yet. It’s not that I haven’t wanted to; every time I see you I want to kiss you.”

Without warning, you pressed your lips to his. It took him not even a moment to respond, pulling you onto his lap and cupping your face. Kissing Shawn was even better than you had ever imagined it would be.

When finally you eased away from him, breathless, you confessed, “I’m falling in love with you too, Shawn. I want you to be mine. I want to be only yours.”

“Does that mean I can kiss you whenever I want to?” he whispered, grinning happily.

“Over and over and over again,” you breathed.

His lips once more met yours. Your hands encircled the nape of his neck. Tender and unhurried turned deep and delicious.

Your lips left his with an audible ‘aʘa’ and you giggled. “Can we eat now? I’m starving.”

Shawn’s answering laugh, rich and lightsome, was everything.

~ * ~

@mendesblurb @benito-mi-vida

#shawn mendes #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fiction #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes x y/n #shawn mendes x you

[unohanadaydreams]

Could I get Knight! Kenpachi and Princess! Reader, otome scenario first meeting please! I hope I read the rules correctly jejdnfnf

YES! Y E S!!!! anon this is SO big brained. Oh my god. Please feel all the freedom to request more prompts for knight!kenpachi.

notes: a first meeting for the game’s surroundings, premise, protagonist, and Kenpachi all wrapped in one. Ah, the divine struggle between duty and lusting after + growing to love one fine motherfucker.

i thought of setting this in a Japanese inspired castle, but I know myself and I would get too caught up in being ‘accurate’. instead i’m gonna stick to what I, a filthy fantasy casual, know.

features: SFW content and some olden day vibes.

Bleach Your Heart: The Otome Ask Game

Knight!Kenpachi + Princess!Reader + First Meeting

You are the only daughter and heir of the castle to survive childhood and beyond. Both your parents live, greeting you with love each day you break fast.

The castle you will one day be Lady of is two grey rectangles of stone connected by one laid on its side in the middle of them, encircled by walls so tall it winds you to climb up them. There is little grandeur in your surroundings beyond the luxury of a full belly and warm room, always. Even the flower gardens are built sturdy rather than pretty.

Life is uncertain in the mountains. But not you. Not within your walls, with your father’s defense strategum to support them. There is even a little town within the castle walls, something no generation before him could hope to maintain and protect successfully.

Your father, who has taught you maths, strategy, and how each part of the castle must be maintained with upmost harmony, has announced it is time.

For marriage. And for more protection.

He is not aging well, hands that once held firm a sword too weak at the wrist to pick up a bowl laden of soup. And those who would battle for his castle are growing more organized—more dangerous.

And He is King before being your father, so you do not fuss even if you feel the weight of his responsibilities crushing you into a curtsy.

Those he will make knights the next morning now sit in the dining hall, eating perhaps their first meal of its kind. There are whole birds on the table, roasted well, and garnished with fresh greens meant to bring crisp freshness to the juicy meat. Thick stew and bowls of berries serve to fill any stomach that the birds do not satisfy. Not grand, but plenty.

You stop at the western entrance, wearied by worries of the future.

There is seldom so much noise as now. The men, all wearing some form of leathers and bits of mail, seem more aflame than the scones that flicker on the walls. You easily spot the newcomers—those who are already knights have been for most your life and are comparably calm.

A man with no hair and colorful makeup springing from the corner of his eyes like wings bangs his tankard on the table one—two—three times after gulping it down in seconds. Yells his victory and calls for another.

The man across from him, hair of oil and feathers truly decorating his eyes, throws a berry at the bald man’s face. It misses.

The bald man turns his head, laughing, to watch the fruit sail past him, and spots you. He waves, calling something you can’t understand, words unfamiliar.

Your hands untangle from behind you and one springs up to return his gesture before you can remember that you are in a doorway, where anyone could be behind you. Perhaps he is being friendly and grateful, you think, for your father choosing him, when so many trained up warriors from your land and the next struggle to find a place with no official war to guide them anymore.

A deep chuckle behind you is all you need to remember your surroundings. You turn, eyesight not filled, but overwhelmed by the height and lean bulk of the man meant to receive the greeting you took for your own.

“Oh,” you say after moments of staring, voice quiet and faraway sounding to your own ears. “Greetings.”

The side of his face where a long scar is carved into skin--above, below, and through his eye--is more lifted into smile than the other. A patch covers his other eye, held by nothing; seemingly nailed into his face by metal studs at the edges of the fabric.

It is not his appearance, punctuated by wild black hair sticking out at the sides like a wolf pelt does at one’s back, but his smile that hushes your manners and leaves you standing there--staring.

The smile is too wide and open. You can not help but remember Martha, who’s smile split her face similarly when hearing that her husband had not returned due to the cold rather than an enemy. Her usually puckered lips had bared her teeth as she laughed harsh, breath white and swirling into the cold air.

He had a smile that spoke of madness.

You heard Martha’s laughter as he acknowledged your words with a nod, asking, “Ya lost or something?”

“Lost,” you say in an echo, eyes drawn to the thin sword at his waist. “N-no. Not at all. I am princess to this castle.”

He laughs, the sound mingling with that which had begun to haunt your ears, as he shrugged. “Guess you’ve never seen a real warrior, then. Thought so, with all the stiffs you’ve got lazin’ around.”

The comment rouses you from where you’d retreated into yourself, drawing your eyes narrow. “I can see you are from across the mountain and perhaps you’ve different ideas of what a true fighter is, but know that all who protect this castle are genuine warriors.”

“Protect? I’m here to fight,” he says, gripping the hilt of his sword and shaking it for emphasis. “That’s what your daddy promised us. Is he a liar?”

“W-no; of course he isn’t,” you lift your chin, responding with gusto. “My father is an honest man and king.”

The man snorts, his head bowing toward the tables of familiar men who had accepted your fistful of flowers and paraded you around on their horses as a child, “They wouldn’t last as a warm up against me.”

“You won’t be fighting them,” you say, eyeing his crossed arms, wanting so much to reach out and smack one of them. “Surely, you must know protection comes before everything? Don’t they teach you that from wherever you come from?”

“Anything I know, I taught myself,” he grunts, smile gone. “And I know a real fighter when I see ‘em. Just like I know I wasn’t hired to sit and wait for a battle to come my way.”

Your father’s words in the throne room pressed you once more and forced a sigh from your chest. “You were hired to escort me to court, then.”

“Yeah, promised a lot of danger along the way, too. Always fun to be had on the edge of a kingdom.” He spoke with utmost confidence, leaning closer than any real knight would dare.

Your father had chosen this man, so you would not ask him to reconsider, but hearing him speak of killing as though it were as much a hobby as needlework or jousting made you bristle.

But you would not let your anger sit on your tongue or coat your words. It would be unwise to lash out against the person who would be a great part responsible for your future safety.

“If you are so great a warrior,” you say slowly, “and the one who will escort me, then it is an honor.”

You dip into a curtsy, listing off your proper title and name before inquiring for his.

“Zaraki Kenpachi--ah fuck, it’s backwards here, ain’t it,” he mumbles, looking to the side, his smile small and human. “Kenpachi Zaraki.”

“Lovely to meet you, Kenpachi Zaraki,” you say, hardly meaning it.

“Nah, you don’t like me at all,” he says as he passes you, large hand giving your back one firm pat. “Do ya, princess?”

#kenpachi zaraki #kenpachi zaraki x reader #bleach imagines #bleach x reader #bleach your heart: the otome meme #oh my GOD WAS THIS SO FUN #please don't pay attention the absolutely BOTCHED manga girl #i did my best with my shitty mouse work aslkdjf;owliaejf