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azrielbrainrot · 2 months

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Mind Over Matter

Pairing: Eris x Reader

Description: Eris sees you at your lowest and you get a glimpse behind the mask.

Warnings: Angst, Domestic Violence, Injury

Word Count: 3550

Notes: In case it's confusing this is set before Fire on Fire. Hope you enjoy!

Fire on Fire Masterlist

The forest looked beautiful today. The red and orange leaves cast shadows over the whole clearing, and from the tree branch you were sitting at, you could see the birds flying and even some bunnies hopping around the bushes. It had been raining all week but it finally let up this morning, the sun was now shining high in the sky making it a perfect day to sit and read outside.

Even if the season never changes, you can tell apart the “beginning” and “end” of autumn. The leaves are just starting to fall, meaning this would be the beginning of the season. In a few months when the leaves are mostly on the ground, it will be the “end” and then the cycle will repeat itself. You always preferred this time when the sun is still shining and the forest is alive.

It might be summertime in the solar courts from your calculations, not that you've ever stepped foot out of this one, or even out of the city. As much as you love the forests tinged in orange, you can't help but wonder what it would be like if they gave way to different sights every few months.

Perhaps it would make autumn more enjoyable if it wasn't constantly upon you. You think you wouldn't hate the spring or summer, when the sun is warmer and there isn't as much rain, when different flowers bloom making the forests turn into different shades of green and brown and so many other colors.

You haven't been this deep into the woods in a long time, your mother and father had both finally left the house for long enough at the same time after what felt like forever. With the rain, your mother hadn't been invited to any tea parties and your father always seemed to be working in his office nowadays, never even leaving to attend any meetings. Seems the High Lord had given him some important job.

You'd feel bad for whoever had the misfortune of their company today but these are the few moments of peace you can steal for yourself, and you've been praying to The Mother that something came up so your father was called to the Forest House or even further. If it was something scandalous enough it would take your mother to her friend's houses to discuss it among themselves too.

You get so lost in your thoughts and the book you're reading, in the calmness and silence the forest brings you that it's only when you look up at the sky and see it starting to turn the same orange tone as the trees that you realize the sun is almost setting, you were late. You weren't sure how long your parents would be gone for, hopefully they weren't coming before dinner or they would already be looking for you.

Gathering your skirt, you hop down from the thick branch you've been sitting on, shoving your book into the old bag you once stole from one of the many closets in your house. It took you a few tries, and reading a couple of books, but you had managed to charm it to hold a lot more than its size would lead you to believe. You've been using it to keep books, dried flowers you've turned into bookmarks, random trinkets you've found over the years and even a couple of pants. Anything your parents wouldn't approve of you having really, things you actually called your own. Picking it up, you winnow to its hiding place - an old hollowed tree close to the edge of the woods behind your house - and quickly cover it so no one comes across it.

The maids knew you weren't inside, thinking you were in the gazebo watching the flowers, or feeling sorry for yourself, whatever they told themselves you did all day, so winnowing straight to your room wasn't an option. There was also the risk of any of them lingering around and seeing you. The garden had to do then, the servants had probably all left the grounds by then, retiring to their own homes.

You winnow deep into the garden so you're surrounded by bushes, close to the crimson roses that overlooked the side entrance to the estate. You weren't usually allowed on this side of the garden, it was too close to the servants' gate, meaning any of the “lowly” males could see you and you wouldn't know how to defend yourself from their advances. Sometimes you think your father is convinced you need instructions for breathing too.

Waving a hand over yourself to clean off any obvious dirt for the moment, you almost sprint closer to the gazebo, the place the maids would come looking for you when it was time to get ready for dinner.

Your heart stalls in your chest when you turn the corner to find your father walking the grounds. His face turns into stone as soon as he lays eyes on you, making you drop your skirt immediately, smoothing it with your hands out of habit, always trying to appear as polished as you can in front of him.

By his side stood your fiancé, looking as elegant as ever in a black three piece suit, topped off with a muted red tie to match the soles of his shoes. You've never seen his hair this long, it was combed back and tied in a small knot. Your gaze moves back to your father's disappointed face when his eyes meet yours, always so intense and calculating, suffocating even.

It had been years since you'd last been caught outside by your father and, to make matters worse, Eris was here too. At least he only saw you in the garden, even if further in than you're normally allowed. You don't even want to think what would happen if he'd seen you winnow from the woods.

“What are you doing outside at nightfall?” Your father was clearly displeased with you, not only for going against his wishes but also for doing it in front of such an important person.

“I simply got distracted looking at the flowers,” you try to sound as demure as possible, thinking maybe you could fix this by playing dumb since your father probably didn't want to make a scene in front of Eris, “They're blooming so beautifully.”

“You must have been really distracted,” he says as he turns his head menacingly, “since you know you're not allowed to wander around unattended.”

His tone almost makes you flinch, your face dropping. It had been foolish of you to think you could talk yourself out of the situation. Eris' presence wouldn't make your father less volatile, it only made things worse. He wanted to show the other male he was capable of handling his family, not wanting to appear weak in front of the heir.

You hadn't stopped to think that this could also make you less viable for marriage. His daughter being personally chosen by the High Lord as his eldest son's fiancé was your father's greatest accomplishment, and he knew better than you that Beron's mind was easily changed, he wouldn't want Eris to think you might not be the best option after all.

In this moment you ponder tarnishing your reputation as much as you could to get out of this marriage. If only it wouldn't cost you your life with it. Your father always hated the fact that you were born female. A male would bring the family name glory but a female could only hope to wed into a noble family. If you were to lose the High Lord's favor your father would likely lock you away from the world or even dispose of you altogether.

Your father lets out what you think he means as a disapproving sigh, but you can hear the excitement behind it, can see it on his face. He's grown to enjoy the moments when he can put you or your mother in your place, it makes him feel important. He approaches you, moving away from a slightly confused looking Eris.

You knew what was coming as soon as you saw your father pull his hand back, you've been here before many times after all. You close your eyes, feeling the heat approach your face, trying not to let your instincts take over and try to avoid it, that only makes it worse. The force of the slap makes your head turn to the side, your body almost following, but the worst part is the flames, you have to bite your lip not to let out any sound as you feel the burn eating at your skin. You faintly smell burning and try not to think about it, knowing it's the smell of your own flesh.

He holds your chin with a still too warm hand, even if already rid of the flames, and looks into your eyes closely, wanting to revel in your pain. “I've taught you better than this.” He adds another light slap to your face for good measure before letting you go completely. It almost hurts more than the first one, the skin was so tender even just moving your face hurt.

Taking a weak breath in, you try to calm your mind, ignore the pain and rage warring inside you. Clutching tightly onto your dress to keep your hands occupied, in case your mind slips and you burn his face in rage the same way he keeps doing to yours. You feel the flames wanting to rise up to your skin but firmly snuff them out, making sure they stay safely hidden deep inside you until it's the right time.

The pain has gotten easier to bear over the years, now you close your eyes not from fear but to calm yourself. You don't have the strength to go against him yet or a plan for a safe escape, you refuse to lose your life so easily after enduring this for so long. One day you will make him pay for everything he has put you through but first you need a plan and you need to be stronger.

This time it was different though, Eris was watching, you could feel his gaze burning into your skin deeper than your father's fiery palm ever could. There had been witnesses to his cruelty before, even outside your family and servants, you had seen pity, satisfaction and even trained blankness in their faces, had learned to ignore them and not ask for help under any circumstance - it took you too long to realize that the ones showing pity know your pain or are as powerless as you.

But, for some reason, knowing Eris, your future husband, the heir to the throne, is watching makes you want to cry for the first time since you were a child. You bite your lip and clench your fists as hard as you can, opening your eyes only enough to look to the ground, hoping your face isn't giving away too much or the burn was at least enough to hide it.

Suddenly interested in studying the cobbled stones you've walked on for decades, you notice your earring fell off, the ruby glinting in one of the little nooks in between stones, suffocated with no place to escape to just like you felt. You briefly wondered if it had simply gotten loose with the force or if it was ripped off your earlobe, but the pain on the side of your face was too intense to be able to pinpoint a specific area. A ripped earlobe was the least of your concerns anyway.

“What do you think you're doing?” All your thoughts evaporate when you hear his voice. He sounds uncharacteristically angry, you've never seen him lose the teasing lilt to his words or crafted nonchalant tone. You can't help but look up at him with wide eyes, not even remembering the shame you had felt before.

“Not to worry. Her face will be healed by tomorrow morning,” your father barely hesitates, assuming the anger wasn't directed at him hitting you, “I wouldn't give you damaged goods, my lord.”

Sometimes you wonder how your father had lived for so long, how he managed to become important enough that he not only worked for Beron but the High Lord would also want his heir to marry you, when he could be this dense. It was clear Eris wasn't worried about your face, his anger was almost palpable.

You know he wears a mask like no one else, you've seen it in action, but, if your father hadn't been so self-absorbed, if it was Beron standing in front of him, this would end very differently. Because the mask had fallen at the same time your stupid earring did. What was staring at you was Eris' true face. Your father was too thick to notice but you could gamble your life on it.

It showed his unrestrained fury and power rumbling just beneath his skin, you're not sure how your father didn't notice the way the temperature rose around them, the air suddenly resembling the summer you had just been longing for. His gaze burned hotter than lava and the planes of his face carved out the perfect personification of fury. His face was the perfect picture of the new High Lord of the Autumn Court. It was all fire, beautifully and all consuming.

He was making a bigger effort of not hurting your father than you were. When your eyes met you could almost see him forcefully pushing his feelings away, stuffing himself down with them, burying them deep inside him to keep the plot he's been writing for centuries intact. Still, his gaze lingered on your marred cheek too long, you think you even see his fingers spasm, as if wanting to reach out, if it was to console you or to snap your father's neck you couldn't be sure but the sentiment behind it was the same.

You almost gasp as the realization comes to you. The look on his face isn't all anger but what's underlining it isn't pity, it's the face of someone who understands. He's been in your same place. It shouldn't be a surprise to you, Beron's cruelty will far outlive his name, but it's hard to imagine Eris, inarguably the second most powerful fae in this court, in your place.

Your stomach twists at the implications. If even he can't fight Beron, what hope do you have of escaping your father? Especially now that he's aligned himself with the High Lord? It's in this moment that you know Eris' warnings were correct, there's no use running, you wouldn't make it but a couple steps.

“She needs a healer to fix her face,” you can almost see him choosing his words, playing into your father's narrative enough while trying to help you as much as he can. You're starting to think you have Eris figured out. Is this how he has survived this long? “See that it gets done quickly.”

He leaves without another word, turning away from you father and letting his eyes linger on your burnt flesh one more time before winnowing out of your estate. You don't look away from where he'd just been even when your father grabs your arm and pulls you along on his way inside the house, cursing you with every step. You wouldn't be able to leave your room and escape into the forest for a while.

Later that night, when you're returning to your room, after a healer treated your wounds as usual, and made sure Eris' goods wouldn't be permanently damaged as your father had so lovingly put it, you find a vaguely familiar, faint scent lingering in the air, it makes your heart stop.

Thankfully, the maids didn't accompany you to your room, they didn't like treating you cruelly but helping you could get them in trouble with your father so they'd rather just watch in silence, or, even better, turn their face whenever it was possible.

If they had followed you, they would have noticed the scent, would run and tell your father. You're not sure if they'd recognize it as his, he doesn't visit your house often after all, but the spicy scent was unmistakably male. It's better not to think of the amount of trouble you would be in if they smelled it.

You walk to the window first, opening it as wide as you can so the chilly night air fills the room instead, making sure there would be no residuals in the morning when they came to wake you. Looking up at the full moon in the cloudy sky, feeling the wind turn to ice against the side of your face still covered in a thick cooling salve and wrapped in bandages, you hesitate one more time before moving to the foreign items sitting at your vanity table, undoubtedly left behind by your dear fiancé.

Eris left you a tiny bottle with some strange bluish liquid inside accompanied by a small red velvet box tied off with a golden ribbon. You know he won't poison you, the bargain won't allow it, but you weren't sure what else he could do if he let his imagination run wild. You decide reading the note set on top of the box might give you an idea.

He has no right to treat you like this. I'm sorry I can't do more to help you for now but I promise there will come a day when he won't be able to hurt you anymore.

The note wasn't signed but you knew it was his. Even after your agreement, you didn't think he would try to make you feel better, even going as far as risking getting caught while dropping this off, since this fragile alliance of yours had been neither of your first choices.

You pick up the bottle and uncork it, immediately recognizing the calming scent of a sleeping draught. It would help with your nightmares. This is a generous amount too, it can last you a while. You set it back down and untie the ribbon, opening the box to find some chocolate and sugar cookies.

A sleeping draught and cookies. Never in your life had you received anything like this. You can't even admit it to yourself but this is by far the most thoughtful gift you've ever gotten from anyone.

He had to have an idea of how awful your father was to you, you told him as much when you made the bargain, but he might not have realized he went as far as physically hurting you. Eris knows the pain of an abusive father, of being haunted by their cruelty even in your dreams. So, he gave you the draught to help you even a little and the cookies to console you, something sweet to fend off the pain.

Just when you were starting to feel thankful for Eris, thinking you might have been too harsh on him before, you notice something else written on the other side of the note. Turning it around and reading it as well.

I wasn't aware you could winnow so well. Just how much are you hiding from your family, doll?

Your entire body tenses at the words, turning the paper into flames lest anyone reads it. He knows. You've managed to hide this ability from everyone for decades, but now Eris, of all people, knows. You're not sure how he noticed when your father didn't. He could have arrived before him, could have wandered around the grounds without anyone knowing. Is it possible that he knew where you went? No, he couldn't have come from the forest in time to talk to your father and see you.

You hold your hand up to rub over your chest, simultaneously trying to calm your racing heart and feeling the mark of the bargain woven into your soul, trying to reassure yourself. He's your ally. He won't tell anyone, the bargain won't allow it. But what could he do with this information? You had the upper hand when you made the bargain but it feels like he just stepped ahead.

After a few moments of breathing in the cold air still seeping into the room and settling your mind, you sit down on the chair by the vanity unceremoniously, letting your head drop into your hands for a moment. A heavy sigh escapes you as you open the cookie box again. What kind of person sends you gifts and includes a mildly threatening message with them. Must he always push your buttons like this?

You take a bite out of a chocolate cookie and let the delicious taste melt in your mouth, eyeing the small bottle. It seems you'll need to use it tonight, you definitely need a good dreamless sleep after the rollercoaster of emotions you've been through the whole day.

What you fail to notice is that, between the chocolate and sugar cookies you keep munching on and the annoyance now targeted towards Eris, your face barely even hurts anymore and you weren't left thinking of the deep rooted ache in your soul after your father hurt you yet another time.

#eris x reader #eris vanserra x reader #eris x you #eris vanserra x you #eris x y/n #eris vanserra x y/n #eris #eris vanserra #eris acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #acotar #acotar x reader #acotar x you #eris fic #eris vanserra fic #fire on fire universe #divider by saradika

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starry-eyed-wild-child · 22 days

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🌻 tate langdon boyfriend headcanons 🌻

tate langdon x reader

🧡 oh lord, buckle up guys, you're in for a wild one

💛 definitely fell first and 100% harder and you can't tell me otherwise

🧡 we all know how tate is, he's very clingy and he's very very possessive of what's his. and that's how he views you, you're his and nobody else's

💛 would definitely stay hidden at first, just so he could watch you for a bit. at this point, there's nothing about you that tate doesn't know

🧡 when you finally meet, tate swears he could die all over again and he'd die happy

💛 tate would definitely act more innocent than he actually is. this boy knows how to cry on command and he will use it to his advantage, don't think just because he loves you that he wouldn't

🧡 if anything, he does it because he loves you and he can't have you leave him like violet did

💛 i hope you like nirvana, because tate will not listen to something that you like if he doesn't enjoy it. he's not very good at that

🧡 tate always needs to be touching you. all the time. whether it's an arm around you or holding hands, this boy craves physical touch and to be the centre of your attention

💛 will probably try his best to get your friends to stop hanging around you so he can have you all to himself. will deliberately scare them to stop them from coming to the house

🧡 would also certainly lie about ever doing such a thing were you to confront him about it

💛 tate wouldn't ever want you to ever leave the house., if he had his way that is. would hate it if you chose to spend time with other people

🧡 like what did they have that he didn't?

💛 he would 100% be the type that watches you even when you're asleep. or anytime, really.

🧡 would definitely want you to commit suicide, so that you can be with him forever. you of course find this idea insane and don't think he actually means it

💛 he does. he's 100% serious

🧡 i can imagine that tate gives really good hugs though. the warm, bear hugs that you never want to leave because they make you feel so secure and safe

💛 is very big on comforting you after a bad day. he'll listen to your rants, let you cry in your arms, whatever you need him for and he'll do it

🧡 let's be honest though, it's probably just another way he gains your trust so that you won't ever think of leaving him

💛 feels extremely guilty if he ever hurt you in any way, or upset you

🧡 would probably just disappear for a few days because he can't face the fact that he's hurt you. but obviously he comes back because the boy can't help himself

💛 tate is your ride or die. he would die for you all over again if you asked him to and alternatively would kill for you if that's what you required

🧡 makes silly little handmade gifts for you. tate can't leave the house so he has time to be creative

💛 board game nights/dates are very frequent with the two of you. it's even better if it's raining outside, it sets a nice vibe

🧡 loves, loves halloween. the two of you would carve pumpkins together and sit for hours in your room telling ghost stories and drinking apple cider

💛 if tate had his own way, you'd never meet his mother

🧡 you do eventually and she probably hates you lmao, but do we really care let's be real here

💛 tate is the kind of boyfriend that would make a playlist for you as a present

🧡 he'd try his hardest to make sure you don't find out about his past. which lasted about 2 months max because you're not stupid

💛 violet, vivien and moira would try and protect you at all costs. they're like your three guardian angels, whether they decide to show themselves to you or not

🧡 i imagine you'd actually get on with violet really well

💛 this could go one of two ways with tate. he'd love it, both girls he'd loved were getting along, makes his life easier. or, he'd hate it. hate that you choose to spend time with the girl that broke his heart

🧡 isn't really big on nicknames tbh, he thinks your name is the most beautiful word he knows, and so he wouldn't dream of calling you anything else

💛 tate is 100% the little spoon, don't fight me on this

🧡 absolutely lives for your affection. he thrives best on it

💛 would be sweet but low-key toxic, so solid 6/10

#ahs #ahs murder house #tate langdon #tate langdon x reader #evan peters #evan peters x reader

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dameronology · 1 month

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we can't be friends (steve rogers)

summary: based on we can't be friends by ariana grande

warnings: angst, swearing

sorry for being absent for six months. even more sorry that this is what i came back with. enjoy!

Being loved by Steve Rogers was like sunlight on a stormy day. Peaking through the clouds, encouraging you to come out of whatever shelter you'd chosen; letting you smell the fresh rain on the pavement as the light finally came through, taking back the water until next time. It was warm on your skin, right through to your bones and your heart and to your very soul. You could have basked in it forever.

The mornings were your favourite, waking up to golden alabaster skin, carved into his muscles. They were slightly scarred, with jagged pink marks of stab wounds and bullet skims and far too many near misses for you to be comfortable. Of course, he healed faster than most but when you were as trigger happy as Steve Rogers was, barely a mission went by when he didn't come home with some minor wound or another. Still, him being there was the most important part. He'd let out a sleepy little yawn and subconsciously roll over to hold you, taking him in his arms and pulling you to his chest. That was where you felt safest.

No matter how busy he was or how demanding work became, Steve always showed up. Flowers waiting for you on the counter after a bad day; ordering take out when you were ill and always making sure your favourite show was recorded on the DVR. You never even had to ask. He'd buy you new roses before your old ones had even began to wilt; had your busiest work days recorded in your phone calendar so that he could step up, even when his own job was pulling him across the country. That was the thing about Steve Rogers: he always showed up.

Until he didn't.

Being loved by Steve Rogers was like sunlight on a rainy day, but waiting for him to love you back was a never-ending storm. Rain pelting down, hammering onto your clothes and seeping through to your skin and your bones and eventually drowning your heart. There was no dry escape. No shelter to hide from the rain. You always felt it - the wet, the cold, the shivering - no matter how hard you tried to escape. There was no getaway from the realisation that he no longer loved you back, or from the 19 miscalled waiting on his phone, or from the dead roses wilted on your kitchen windowsill.

Long conversations about your future had turned into silent, screaming pauses. The arguments felt pointless. You could only beat a dead horse so many times before you realised it wasn't coming back to life.

You sat on opposite ends of the sofa now. Slept on different sides of the bed. Watched your favourite show in silence whilst he tapped away at his laptop, barely even bothered by your presence. He'd sat too a high standard for himself. It was one he couldn't keep, but even the bare minimum was a golden standard compared to what he was giving you these days.

"I'm done."

You'd surprised yourself more than anyone with the words. Steve had come home from work late again. The fourth time that week, twelfth time that month and countless times overall. You'd made dinner. It was cold now, like the stony expression on his face and the watery one on yours.

"What?"

Steve glanced up from his phone, brow furrowed.

"I'm done," you said.

"With what?"

You sighed deeply, regathering yourself for a moment. Pushed down the lump in your throat, shoulders raised to try and show whatever tatters of your pride you had left.

"I'm leaving you," you said. "I can't...I don't want to sit around and wait for you to love me again."

Steve put his phone down, pausing for a moment. It looked like he was going to say something...maybe anything. Even though your mind was made up, part of you wanted him to beg. To get on his knees, take your hands and plead for your heart back. God knows that this time a year ago, he would have pleaded with you in person and with writing in the sky.

Instead, he just sniffed.

He sniffed, and you left. Keys to your shared apartment thrown into the dish on the side, never to be taken again. At least the Lego heart keys chain you had together would be together again - you know, when he was actually home.

Whatever time you had previously put into your relationship, you now put into yourself. Found a nice little loft on the other side of the river - it felt like the wrong side, but everything felt wrong without him - and decorated it with everything but photos of you together. There was a nice rug, and a beautiful sofa, and your marble counters were a nice welcome home.

Still, the bed felt cold. Not as cold as it had when he'd lovelessly laid beside you, but still. Cold. It felt strange only having one tooth brush in the holder, and only one bottle of shower gel on the edge of your bath. The toilet seat was always down now (Steve had had only one flaw, and that was it) and you always tripped over the shoes that you left by the door because he no longer tidied them away.

It felt like half your heart was missing, but eventually it grew back.

You forgot about Steve, and the Avengers, and that entire world until Natasha Romanoff texted you. It had been six months since your break-up by that point, and even though you missed them all dearly, it had been natural for Steve to get them in the break-up. You had your friends. He had his. But, it was nice that Natasha still thought of you.

Hey, hope you're doing well. I'm having my birthday party next week at my apartment. 7pm, same building as always. It would be nice if you came. Steve may or may not be but he's been annoying lately so I'd rather have you. Let me know <3

At first, it had been an immediate no. Then you thought about it some more, and it was a definitive no. Then, you found yourself calling Nat and talking for three hours straight.

Apparently Morgan was in her One Direction era, and had thrown an hour long tantrum when she found out they weren't together anymore. Pepper and Tony had tried to pay for a reunion, but they weren't interested. Bruce was doing an assignment in France and Clint and his family had moved a little closer to the city. Sam and Bucky were still working for the government and naturally, that had brought Natasha onto the subject of Steve.

Doing better. That's what she said. Apparently he wasn't working as late anymore and he'd cut down his hours. He was going to therapy, drinking less and working out more. She'd lingered on the last sentence, but ended it with he's more like your Steve again.

That made you want to go to the party even less, and yet the following weekend you found yourself stood outside Natasha's high-rise apartment building at 7:35PM. You'd put more effort into your appearance than usual; a more expensive fragrance, spent a little longer on your hair and worn the outfit Steve had always thought you looked best in. Maybe it was a calculated move, but you'd never been all that good at maths.

Your entrance was met with four or five hugs. Natasha looked amazing as ever, and Bucky was brighter now. Tony was elated to see you and you didn't ask about Pepper's little baby bump, but you could see it was there. Your mind was kept too occupied by all them to even think about Steve.

That - naturally - all came crashing down when you saw him across the room. He was leant against a pillar, hair longer now but fluffed up and a 5 o'clock shadow gathered on his chin. Not like the man with long hair and a beard that you'd left, but not quite the squeaky clean looking Steve you'd fallen in love with either. Still though, it was closer. He was showing through the cracks.

The question of whether or not you would approach him answered itself, because you blinked and suddenly he was stood in front of you.

"I owe you an apology."

Straight to the fucking chase.

You faltered slightly, but didn't let it show. "Yeah, I think you do."

Steve glanced around you at all your friends - naturally, they were all staring at you. They might have been superheroes but that didn't stop them being nosey fuckers.

"Let's go to the roof," he said. "I mean...if you want. You don't owe me anything."

You nodded your head. "Let's go to the roof."

The climb up the stairs to Natasha's terrace was awkward, but not as bad as the silence that quickly filled the cold air as soon as you got up there. Steve might have been one of the bravest men you'd ever met, but vulnerability scared the shit out of him. You suspected that was the case now.

"So?" you asked. "What could you possibly have to say?"

"I'll only say that I'm sorry once," Steve began. "So: I'm sorry. For pushing you out, for not trying, for letting work consume me. Even more for the fact I didn't even try to stop you leaving, because as soon as you shut the door, all I wanted to do was run after you, but I'm not stupid. I knew your mind was made up."

"Where are you going with this?"

"You leaving was like a bucket of cold water," he continued. "It made me realise a lot of things - about how much I'd left myself go, mostly. I've stopped drinking and started going to therapy, and I have my work hours capped."

You smiled. "Well done, Steve. That's really great."

"I'm better now. Not fully, but...I'm getting there," Steve replied. "I asked Natasha to invite you tonight. She wanted to anyways but it was sort of my idea."

"Why?"

"So I could apologise, but mostly because I want you back in my life," he explained. "As friends, as something more. Hell, I'll take you as my enemy if it means I get to see you again."

You sighed, eyes falling to the ground. What could you even say to that? Enemies sounded pretty good - and definitely well deserved - but you didn't hate Steve. You'd moved on, but that didn't mean you'd lost all capability to love him.

"How do I know you won't do it again?" you asked.

"You don't," he replied. "I don't know that either, but what if it doesn't happen again? What if...what if things were really good?"

You glanced away, eyes staring at the distant Manhattan skyline for a moment. It glittered and glimmered, mostly rebuilt after the 2012 incident. You could see Stark Tower as well. Steve had told you he loved you for the first time on that roof top. Now, here he was, begging for you back on another.

"Friends," you muttered. "We can be friends. I don't know after that. I've waited six fucking months for you to decide that you love me again-"

" - I never stopped -"

" - not the point, Steve!" you cut him off. "We'll start with friends, then go from there."

"I'll wait ten years if I have to," he said. His smile suggested he was joking, but you knew he wasn't.

With that, Steve pulled you into a hug. In your soul, you knew you couldn't be friends. Enemies was worst but strangers was horrible too. The answer was inevitable, but you just had to make him wait a little while.

maybe a part 2?

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers imagines #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #steve rogers reader insert #steve rogers #avengers x reader #avengers imagines #avengers fluff #avengers #marvel

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weird-an · 3 months

Text

When Robin first met Steve, she thought he was all arrogance and confidence, thought he was bullshit.

She got to know him, looked behind the picture of King Steve, the fallen jock of Hawkins High. She likes Steve. Loves him like a brother sometimes.

She's surprised though that he's so oblivious sometimes. That guy dated half of the school, okay, all of them girls, even though she knows that Steve Harrington's virginity will forever be Tommy Hagan's greatest steal, but how can Steve be so blind?

Steve's face is flushed when he finds her after the last period, when they are supposed to spend the rainy afternoon on the couch, watching Disney movies or whatever.

"I think Billy is theatening me!" Steve says, eyes huge. Like always when he's talking about Billy. Which he does a lot. Most of the day.

Because they are rivals, he says.

Because he's got a big fat crush, Robin has inferred after the last "Billy Hargrove is disgusting" ramble Steve annoyed her with for two hours.

She suppresses a grin that wants to mix with a sigh which leads to a weird hiccup.

"What's going on?"

"He sent me notes today. This one says 'I'm watching you, pretty boy.'" Steve waves a piece of paper in front of her. Billy's handwriting is surprisingly neat.

That's not really a surprise. Billy stares at Steve as if he's an oasis in the desert. Steve stares at Billy like he's a cake and there's only one piece left.

There's her hiccup again.

" … and the other?" she asks. It's amusing, she has to admit. At the same time she wants to smush them together like the Barbie dolls she had played with as a child. She created epic love stories - lacking Ken the whole time, because a Barbie deserved another Barbie, not some boring ass dude.

Steve ruffles his hair. "It’s even worse. It says 'I'm waiting for you in the parking lot!'"

Robin snorts. That's it. She's glad Billy apparently had gotten around to the realization that it's not a rivalry but the exact opposite. Of course Billy Hargrove can't just say "I like you". That would be too easy.

"I think you're both idiots," she hiccups. Damn, that's getting out of hand.

Steve puts his hands in his hips. "What?" he asks.

"Go to the parking lot!" Robin points at the door.

"I don't wanna fight," Steve begins.

Robin can't stand this hiccup any longer.

"He doesn't want to fight - he wants to fuck," she almost yells.

Steve gapes at her.

"Maybe it's a joke," he manages.

"What if it isn't?" she asks.

Steve's moles drown in the pinkness of his cheeks.

"I… should go," he says. "Thanks, Robin."

"Welcome, dingus."

She shouldn’t follow him, but she still does, because he’s a bit of an idiot and she loves him. She wants to make sure, she isn’t wrong. She peeks around the corner. It's still raining a bit, more a drizzle than anything.

Billy is wearing his tightest pair of jeans. He's leaning against the Camaro, sucking on a cigarette. Pretending he isn't soaking wet. It's almost adorable.

"Harrington, I bet your lame ass still hasn't seen Terminator, " he says, stroking a wet curl out of his dace.

"You don't know that," Steve grumbles.

Billy tilts his head. His face flushes a bit, too. They are matching tones of pink.

"'M drivin'," Billy mumbles.

Steve grins. "I'm buying, then."

Billy nearly drops his cigarette.

"Cool," he says, face still red.

She watches them drive off, high-fiving a very confused Jonathan Byers who just happens to walk to his car.

Her hiccup is gone. Finally.

#steve he's threatening you with some hot and heavy action ruuuuuuun #robin is so done #harringrove #billy x steve #billy hargrove #steve x billy #robin buckley & steve harrington

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sanguineterrain · 2 months

Note

Hi, I love your fics. Feel free to say no to this request but I was wondering if maybe you could write something about asexual Jason Todd? I've always felt like he'd be aspec and identified with him because of that. You write intimacy and love without sex so well, and it'd be wonderful to see it with ace Jason. Maybe one where he tells the reader and he's really scared but they accept him? But if you don't want to, completely fine. Thank you for sharing your writing. 🧡

Hey there nonnie. This one is very personal to me; I'm also ace and have often had the thought that Jason is aspec too. I think sometimes I write him that way without realizing it. I hope you and others enjoy this one! 💓

asexual!jason todd x gn!reader. tw sexuality discussion, some internalized acephobia, love confession. please be kind in the comments.

****

Rain patters on the kitchen window. You'd come over with the excuse of the two egg and cheese sandwiches from the bodega Jason likes so much.

"I think I could eat egg and cheese sandwiches for every meal," he says, mustard on his nose.

You want to say something stupid. Something about bringing him egg and cheese sandwiches in the rain forever. Something about a grave and hunger and what it means to be fed, to feed.

"From anywhere or specifically from the bodega?" you ask.

"Bodega, obviously. Alfred's, too. And yours. Food made with love." He shakes the foil. "I can taste the love."

"Jason?"

"Hm?"

"I..." You touch your nose. "Mustard."

He wipes it off. The thin takeout napkin is tiny in his hand.

"Don't even know how it got up there," he mumbles.

Oh, God. You're about to say something stupid.

"I love you," you blurt. "I—I'm falling in love with you, Jason."

Silence. Jason freezes mid-bite.

"Fuck," he whispers.

You watch as he springs from the couch and starts to pace. He chews on a cuticle, eyes wild. The sandwich is abandoned on the coffee table. You frown.

"Jason. Jay. Hey. Jaybird."

Nothing. You catch his free hand and rub his knuckles. Jason's eyes dart to you. He stops.

"I didn't say that to scare you," you say, even though it hurts, the idea that your love scares him. "It's okay if you don't feel the same."

"I do," Jason says miserably. "Fuck, I do. I love you so much. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

You squeeze his hand, suddenly, incandescently happy.

"You do?" you ask.

"But I—" He shakes his head. "I can't love you the way you want me to."

"Jay, whatever you think coming back did, I promise that—"

"No." Jason swallows hard and shuts his eyes. "God, that's the thing. 'S not from the Pit. I thought—y'know, I waited for everything to slide into place. The Lazarus Pit is s'posed to resurrect a person. Build them anew. But I felt the same."

"Felt the same?"

Jason looks at you then, and you know that expression. It's a plea. Don't use this information to hurt me.

You tug him back to the couch, coax him into sitting. He very carefully doesn't let any part of him touch you.

"I didn't, uh, have a name for it when I was younger. I didn't, like, think about sex or anything like that very much before B took me in 'cause I was in survival mode, y'know?"

"That makes sense, Jay," you offer gently.

"Right. Well, but it just... stayed that way. And before you ask, yeah, I've tried. I've tried to force the feelings." He takes a shaky breath. "I remember Dick telling me about how he'd started dating Kori—I mean, Kori, she's beautiful, y'know? And I was like, what's wrong with me that I can't feel that? I knew that she was beautiful, logically, but I didn't... feel it. I picked it apart for months, trying to figure out why I couldn't be like him or B or Selina."

"Oh, Jay..."

"No, I know. I tried. I crushed on a few people, but I never acted on it 'cause I knew there was something... different. Something to hide. And then I thought the Pit would give that to me, that feeling I've never had, and it didn't. And I guess I should be happy that it's not something that needs to be fixed or restored or whatever, but all I feel is shame. I feel sick when someone looks at me like I'm a piece of meat. I attract more attention with how I look now, and it's worse than before, having no control over how people desire me."

You frown. "Jason, if I've ever made you feel that way, I hope you'd tell me. I'm sorry if I have."

"No, you—you're perfect. God, you make me feel so safe. Cared for in a way I haven't known in a long time. And that's why this is so shit. 'Cause this won't work. You want something I can't give you."

"Who says I don't want what you can give me?"

Jason laughs. It comes out choked. "Oh, no, no. You don't know what you're saying. Maybe it'll take six months or a year or two years but you'll get fed up with not having sex. I'm not worth celibacy. I know I'm not."

"Jason." You lightly touch his cheek. He looks at you, eyes wet. "Oh, Jay. Why do you think that? Why do you think you're only good for your body?"

"Hah. I've only been good for my body for years now. 'S nothing new, and it doesn't matter whether I'm a boyfriend or a soldier."

"Jason. It does matter. It does. You're not a body to me, you're a person. A brain. A heart. A good soul."

He blinks fast. "Don't... y'don't have to say that stuff. Let me down easy. It's okay if you leave. I don't have what you want."

"But you do. There's no reason you don't. Sex? I can do without."

He scoffs. "That easy, huh?"

"With you? Yes," you say. "Easiest choice I've ever made, actually. Like deciding to bring you a breakfast sandwich. I woke up and I did that. Because I love you."

His fingers creep to yours. You hold them as soon as he's within reach.

"I'm not gonna change," he says.

Jason thinks it's a warning. You see it for what it is: hope.

"That's alright," you say, squeezing his hand. "I'm not trying to change you."

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #resisting the urge to infodump my aspec jason and bruce hcs LMAOOOO #jason todd x y/n #jason todd fanfiction #ace Jason todd #aspec #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood fanfiction #batman fanfiction #dc fanfic #jason todd imagine #inbox #blurb

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headspace-hotel · 2 years

Text

Minecraft Tips

or, a list of things about Minecraft that took me forever to figure out, that might not be obvious to new players, or that I just found helpful

Equal parts gravel and dirt can be crafted into coarse dirt, and using a hoe on coarse dirt changes it to normal dirt, so you can effectively change gravel into dirt if you have at least 2 dirt blocks with you

I know the game technically teaches you this BUT: you can cure zombie villagers by hitting them with a splash weakness potion and then feeding them a golden apple. This is an easy way to populate a village you built yourself, I've done it in all my survival worlds. The easiest way to protect newly potioned and appled villagers is to dig a long trench, get the zombie villager to chase you, circle the pit until the villager falls in, and cover the pit so no mobs attack the zombie villager when it changes into a villager.

Killing fish is a pretty good way to get bones. I don't need a skeleton farm because automatic fish farms are probably among the easiest automatic farms to build

drinking milk stops status effects

Tiny slimes can't damage you. You can keep them as pets.

The fastest transportation method is, for some reason, a boat on blue ice. Many horses are faster than powered rails.

Suspicious stew can be crafted, even though it's not part of the creative inventory or recipe book, using the normal recipe for mushroom stew+one flower. Allium gives a couple seconds of fire resistance, poppy gives night vision, cornflower gives jump boost, blue orchids or dandelions give saturation, and oxeye daisy gives regeneration.

A lot of wooden items—fences, doors, bows, fishing poles, and so on—can be used as fuel in furnaces. It's not efficient but it's a good way to get rid of excess items

Sneak to add blocks to the side of a furnace or chest directly. Do y'all have any idea how long this took me to figure it out. (This is also how you add a hopper to a chest.)

gold or iron armor can be melted down into gold and iron nuggets

The fortune enchantment affects sapling drops from trees and crop harvests.

Early in game, smelting copper into ingots is one of the best ways to get XP fast.

Fishing odds are slightly better when it's raining.

When you first get a full set of diamond armor your first instinct may be to wear it on a quest into the Nether. Don't. Take a couple stacks each of gravel/sand and any stone and run repeated suicide missions until you've made a stone shelter around your portal and paths across surrounding lava lakes.

More nether navigation tricks: drop columns of gravel down precipices in the Nether and then add cobblestone to the side of the gravel columns to build stairs from the top down

If your nether portal goes out while you're in the Nether, a Ghast fireball hitting the inside of the frame will relight it. But please don't get caught in the Nether without flint and steel

Lava breaks your fall much like water does, and you can't drown in it, though it's very hard to move in. Fire resistance potions will let you exploit both of these things.

Fill a basalt delta with three- or four-block-high towers of whatever block you like, two blocks apart, in staggered rows. Occasionally place a block on the side of the towers' top blocks. This won't stop magma cubes from spawning, but it will stop the large ones from moving effectively.

Using silk touch to grab the red and blue "turf" layers in Nether forests lets you farm both kinds of giant nether fungi by bone-mealing mushrooms, though the turf colors and mushroom colors have to match up. The growth is unaffected by obstructions above and the fungus "foliage" blocks never decay like leaves do. I have no idea who thought that was a good idea. BUT doing this repeatedly will eventually completely obstruct the "sky", protecting you from Ghasts

Nether fortresses and bastions are found along a "grid" pattern, so when you find one nether fortress you can travel in a straight line to find another fortress or bastion. Villages do the same thing, except when they don't. (Really, how villages spawn is a total mystery to me.)

Bonemealing moss will straight up convert surrounding stone into moss. I have no idea why. Since bone meal can be automated using a dropper iirc, this seems like it could lead to some weird redstone contraptions.

Horses can survive falls that would seriously damage a player.

Animals can and will climb ladders. I don't know why. But if you push a sheep or cow toward a ladder, they will often automatically ascend it. I've used this fact for automatic farms before.

You can name literally anything using an anvil, even if you can't repair or enchant it

Soul sand placed underwater creates bubble columns that shoot you upward. Magma blocks create bubble columns that pull you down. You can breathe in the bubble columns.

Night vision potions, if you've never used one, will also let you see the ocean floor.

A water source block in an "ocean" biome will spawn ocean animals, whether there is room for them there or not. If you change a section of ocean into a one-block-deep pond, you'll still get fish in there

you probably won't like this one but. keep a notebook with the coordinates of important spots it is SO HELPFUL

I'll add more when I think of them. please note that I play bedrock and some of these might not work in java

#minecraft #mineblr

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soaringthroughthegalaxy · 6 months

Note

I’m back with my Hunter brainrot, thanks to your kinktober post 😅 I hope this is ok to ask:

Can you write a Hunter x f reader where the prompts "I can't risk losing you again." and "Don't you see that I'm hurting?" Are used?

And can it be fluffy with feelings? It would also be cool if it’s NSFW or steamy but that’s honestly up to you. I love your work sm <3 take care

Thank you so much, anon! Sorry for the delay; I was trying to work out how to get the line prompts in while keeping it fluffy/sweet/steamy. There’s a tiny bit of angst, too.

I hope this is okay! <3

Safe with You

After you were snatched by locals on a recent mission, buried feelings bubble up to the surface, and neither of you can fight them back any longer.

Pairing: Hunter x f!reader

Word count: 2.6k

Rating: 18+ MINORS DNI!

Warnings: canon typical violence, hurt and comfort, light angst, feelings and softness, friends to lovers (this trope with this man 🤌), squint for possessiveness, fingering, praise/encouragement.

Rain pelted against the large barracks window, the grey skies a common sight on Kamino. But Hunter’s attention wasn’t on the brewing storm outside. Dark eyes watched as you moved around the room with a slight limp to decant the contents of your pack onto your cot.

Six months you’d been with them. Six months as their civilian handler. You were supposed to report to the Kaminoans on their missions and provide them with whatever they needed to ensure they returned safely each time. The long necks couldn’t have anything happening to their ‘experimental assets’ after all. You weren’t meant to be in the field with them, yet you’d insisted.

And now you were hurt.

Jaw clenching, Hunter tries to forget the panic that had consumed him when you'd sent a distress signal during the middle of the last mission. They’d left you on the Marauder at a safe distance and able to assist if needed, but the locals had found you and weren’t too happy. Your scream of his name over the comms as you’d been dragged out of the ship had turned his blood to ice and would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Before he could stop himself, Hunter was up on his feet and across the room, reaching out for you, selfishly needing to triple-check that you were okay.

You startle as warm hands grasp your wrist, your heart rate spiking as fear simmers in your veins for only a second until you look up at a familiarly handsome face. Try as you might, you were still a little shaken. The locals hadn’t hurt you – your injury was self-inflicted, having smacked your hip on the bunk racks as you’d tried to kick yourself free of their grasp – and that had been their only saving grace when Hunter had stormed their small village with a blaster in one hand and his vibroknife in the other, demanding to know where you were. The relief that had crumpled his face as you’d been yanked out of a nearby building would forever be etched into your memory.

For a moment, you can only stare into his eyes, watching a mired of emotions flicker across his face before his hand shifts to your chin to tilt your head from side to side, double-checking for any marks. “I’m okay, Hunter.” You tell him softly, shifting your weight onto your good leg. “I don’t blame them.” You’re touched by his concern, warmth seeping through your body.

Hunter shakes his head a little, a hard glint in his endless brown eyes. “I do. You’re hurt.”

“Like I said on the way back here, this is self-inflicted.” You repeat, gently taking his wrist to pry his hand from your face. He didn’t need to worry so much – you’d been through a lot worse.

Hunter isn’t backing down that easily, not when something is clawing at his chest and demanding that he be sure you’re okay. “Let me see.”

You pause, blinking a few times at the commanding tone he’d slipped into so effortlessly. It was easy to forget at times that he was in charge. “Hunter…”

“Please.” He remembers his manners, softening his tone a little. He hadn’t meant to come across as harsh or rude, but that strange feeling in his chest wasn’t easing.

“There’s nothing to see. I’ve probably just pulled a muscle. It’ll be fine in a few days.” You point out.

Hunter takes a deep, shaky breath. “You don’t know what it was like hearing you scream out for me.” He pauses, swallowing, the memory replaying on an endless loop in his mind. “Nothing mattered other than getting to you. And I was too slow. You were gone when I got back. But your scent…” His jaw clenched, brows drawn down into a pained frown. One of his hands moved to cup your face, the light drag of his thumb across your cheekbone tugging at your heart. “So sweet but tainted with fear…” He trails off, remembering how relentlessly he’d tracked you down, pushing his senses further than ever before, searching for every little trace of you, desperate to have you back. “Don’t you see that I’m hurting? Please. I need to see that you’re okay.”

You couldn’t deny the worry you saw in Hunter’s eyes, something that rarely surfaced in the stoic soldier, and his words struck a chord with the unspoken connection that had grown between you during your time together. With a small sigh, you nod, giving in to his request.

“Alright. But I promise you, it’s not as bad as you think.” You gently guide him to sit on your cot, lowering yourself next to him and lifting your shirt enough to reveal the purpling bruise on your hip. It wasn’t anything serious, just a painful reminder of the close call.

Hunter’s eyes narrow as he inspects the bruise, his fingers brushing lightly over the discoloured skin. His touch is surprisingly gentle, and for a moment, there’s silence in the room, only the distant rumble of thunder and the patter of rain against the window breaking the stillness.

“I told you, it’s nothing major.” You reassure him, studying the deep furrow in his brow. “I appreciate your concern, but I can handle a few bumps and bruises. It comes with the territory.”

Hunter remains silent, his gaze fixed on the bruise as if trying to will it away. Then, without a word, he rifles through the contents of your pack that you’d dumped out, grabbing a small tube of bacta gel. Wordlessly, he begins to apply it to your bruise, his movements deliberate and tender.

“You shouldn’t have to endure this.” He mutters, almost to himself, his fingers working the gel into your skin. “You weren’t made for this, yet you willingly put yourself in harm’s way. I can’t…I can’t risk losing you again.”

His admission catches you off guard. The weight of his words hangs in the air. The bond between you has evolved, whether you intended it or not.

You place a hand over his, pausing his ministrations. “I’m here because I choose to be. I believe in what you and your brothers are fighting for. I want to help in whatever way I can. I want to protect you. You’re not the only one who would go to great lengths for someone they care about.”

Hunter meets your gaze, his expression softening. At that moment, you realize that the storm brewing outside is nothing compared to the one raging inside Hunter.

You watch as he sets aside the bacta gel, knowing you’re at a crossroads and that whatever you say or do next will tip the scales. His eyes lift to meet yours, and for a moment, the silence lingers until his gaze dips down to your lips for the briefest of seconds.

You move on instinct. Leaning in, your hand cups his cheek, guiding his face towards yours. As your lips meet in a tender kiss, you feel him respond with relief and desperation, as if he’s afraid this moment might slip away. His hand finds its place on the small of your back, drawing you closer as he deepens the kiss.

Warmth licks through you, and you let out a small noise of surprise as Hunter pulls you carefully onto his lap, shifting you so that you can straddle him. His hand still supports your back, the other cradling the nape of your neck as his tongue presses forward, sliding between your lips to taste you.

Your soft moan is muffled by his mouth, tongue meeting his, body going pliant. Hunter’s lips are firm and confident, every fragment of his adoration for you poured into the kiss.

He wants to drown in your scent, to block out the rest of the galaxy and focus on nothing but you – the sounds you’re making, the racing of your heart, the taste of you that he’ll never get enough of. Cautious not to jostle you, Hunter stands, cradling you to him, smiling against your lips as your arms and legs wrap around him. As you cling to him, he carries you across the room to his bunk, laying you down gently on his sheets.

Sinking into the softness of the mattress, you gaze up at Hunter as he settles above you, careful not to rest his weight on you. Soft lips return to your body, dragging down your throat as his fingers creep under your shirt, dark fabric pushed up as he traces the curves of your body, the rough pads of his fingers against smooth skin. He’s already half-hard just from kissing you, but he studiously ignores it.

You are his priority. You always have been.

He shifts, working his way down your body. Reverent kisses pressed to your exposed belly, lips lingering around your injured hip, still shiny with bacta. Endless brown eyes flit up to meet your gaze, stealing your breath. Reaching down, you cup the inked side of his face, watching as his eyes flutter shut, head tilting into your touch, lips ghosting the palm of your hand in a feather-light kiss as he reassures himself that you're okay. Tears prickle at your eyes, heart aching at the sweetness of the gesture.

Fingers reach the waistband of your pants, already sitting low to not press on your hip, and there's a silent question in his gaze as he looks up at you.

With a small nod, you encourage him, and Hunter slowly pries your pants down further, eyes flitting between yours and the expanse of skin slowly revealed to him. He sees every emotion painted on your beautiful face, like a masterpiece he’s dedicated his entire life to studying.

Your pants hit the floor, Hunter’s lips trailing a path back up your body, soft kisses and gentle nips laved across your thighs and stomach. One arm returns to supporting his weight above you while the other hand smooths across your body, committing every part of you to memory. He could spend an eternity mapping you, losing himself in every nuance of you. Your honeyed scent fills his lungs, overpowering the lingering smells in the barracks.

It’s the sweetest torture you’ve ever experienced, the soft drag of his fingers across your body, the warmth of him so close, those eyes that have drawn you in since the very beginning. He dips down for a delicate kiss, fingers sliding across your thighs. They part without protest, and the deep rumble of approval that flees his lips sends a shiver through you.

Tentatively, he drags two fingers across the front of your damp panties as your kiss breaks. “So needy already, cyar’ika.” He croons, marvelling at the whimper you let loose. “Should probably do something about that, eh?” He adds, catching your clit with his next stroke, sending a jolt of pleasure through you.

All you can do is nod, heart racing as you look up at him, trusting he’ll take care of you.

A smile passes over Hunter’s lips, and his fingers dance under the waistband of your panties, sliding down through your slick folds. Drawing lazy circles around your entrance, he goes to press a digit into your warm heat but pulls back at the last moment. Your brows furrow, and the small whine of frustration you let out makes him chuckle. “Patience, mesh’la.” He admonishes playfully, dragging his fingers up and over your clit again, making you gasp.

It’s maddening. But at the same time, oh so delicious. One of your hands grasps at the sheets of his bunk, the other grabbing onto him, anchoring yourself as his fingers stroke across you, cataloguing each spot that makes your hips jolt or pulls a little sound from you.

The delicious torture comes to an end as he finally presses a finger into you, another sliding in beside it. A soft moan escapes you, muffled as Hunter presses his lips to yours, crooking his fingers until he finds the right spot.

Stars erupt in your vision, kiss breaking as you tilt your head back, letting out another moan as pleasure curls through you.

“There it is.” Delight warms Hunter’s voice as he finds the spot, fingers moving, watching enraptured as you react to his touch. Leaning closer, his lips ghost over the shell of your ear. “You should see yourself, cyar’ika. So beautiful.” He whispers, revelling in the way your heart rate spikes at his words, how you squirm and cant your hips to chase the pleasure he’s giving you. “That’s it. Take what you need.” He encourages.

Eyes sliding shut, warmth builds in your belly with every brush of his fingers against that sensitive spot inside you, with every soft word he utters. You grind down against his palm, the added pressure on your clit making your head spin as his fingers slide in and out of you.

Hips rolling, you’re grateful for the bacta gel that’s numbed the earlier ache, and you whine as Hunter’s teeth graze your earlobe. Warm puffs of his breath caress your neck as he dips down, dragging the flat of his tongue from your clavicle back to your ear, making you shiver. “Keep going, sweetheart, you’re doing so well.” He murmurs, a low rasp to the smoky voice you’ve grown to love.

Breath stuttering, you cling to him, desperately rocking against his hand. Your fingers twist the sheets as the pressure builds and builds. “Please...” You whine, eyes opening to find lust-blown brown gazing right back at you.

You ask so sweetly that Hunter can’t do anything but take mercy on you. Ensuring his fingers continue pumping slowly in and out of your tight heat, his thumb makes contact with your clit, and the cry you let out is magnificent.

“Yes, yes, like that…” You babble, eyes falling shut once more as he works you into a frenzy. Lips parting on a silent gasp, you finally tip over the edge. Trembles skitter through your body as you give yourself over to it, letting yourself be swept up in the moment.

Hunter has seen a lot in his few years – sunrises on pretty planets, families reunited, millions of stars shining in distant pockets of the galaxy. Still, all of it pales compared to the sight of you falling apart beneath him.

Working you through the high, his hand only stills once your beautiful eyes open once more and, holding your gaze, he slides his fingers from you, dragging them up to his mouth. The taste of you explodes in his mouth, and he groans, lapping at his fingers as he cleans away the evidence of your release.

Ragged breaths escape you as you come down from the high, watching the way the man you adore savours the taste of you. Exhaustion starts to creep through your body, the adrenaline of the day wearing off and the intensity of your orgasm stealing what little energy you had left. “Your turn…” You mumble, hand sliding down his body towards the thick length straining against his blacks.

Hunter gently captures your wrist, guiding your hand back up before peppering your pulse point with light kisses. “Promise me that I can teach you how to defend yourself better. And that you’ll always carry my spare vibroknife.” He makes a heartfelt request.

You attempt to protest, but seriousness settles over his expression, a stark reminder of how shaken he’d been earlier. “Tomorrow morning, I’m returning the favour. Then I’ll promise you anything.” You finally conceded.

A soft chuckle escapes him. “Deal.” He agrees, sealing the pact with a gentle press of his lips to yours. Carefully, he shifts you, pulling the sheet up, cocooning you in warmth. “There’s my girl.” He coos, watching as your eyes start to droop, lids heavy.

Half-awake, you mumble. “Yours?”

“Mine.” He confirms tenderly, smoothing your hair from your face, the ache in his chest finally easing as you rest safely in his bunk.

#Soarings Ask Box #the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #the bad batch x reader #hunter x reader #tbb hunter x reader #star wars #the bad batch hunter #sergeant hunter #hunter x you #sergeant hunter x reader #the bad batch hunter x you #hunter bad batch #fluff #soft smut #friends to lovers

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mikareo · 6 months

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⌗ SEASONS OF LOVE ₊ ˖ ་. a 呪術廻戦 miniseries

“ ࣭⸰ ★ SERIAL ROMANTIC ; gojo satoru x fem reader ⠀ ꒰ . . episode one ! ꒱ . . . word count; 1.2k ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᯇ remember when we first met?

⊹ ⠀⠀ you might possibly be the least helpful person in the world when it comes to making a hinge profile...gojo can attest to that.

contains; gojo satoru x fem reader, university (year 2) au, fluff, gojo's a dick, swearing, best friends to lovers, love triangle

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀pm or send ask to join/be removed from taglist,, ⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀link to miniseries masterlist

"y'know, i'd appreciate it if you could help at least a little bit."

gojo can feel your hard glare targeting him, piercing into his skull like a red laser beam, yet still chooses to ignore you. he doesn't understand why you can't just finish unpacking later. you're kind of being a buzzkill. yes, he'd be a better friend if he continued to help you unpack your boxes and organize your cluttered dormitory; but he's got more important things to do. things that require his complete and utmost attention. things that are life or death on a college campus. things that will make or break his entire young adult experience...

...things like finishing his hinge profile!

"i promise— wait no. i pinky promise i'll put all of your shit away later, just tell me which photos to pick for this prompt, i'm stuck." he's begging and pleading for you to focus on him, which isn't unusual when dealing with a narcissist such as himself. c'mon. c'mon. gojo knows exactly how to win you over. it really isn't that hard. all he has to do is beg and whine a little, give you some puppy dog eyes, and you'll do whatever he says! there's no way he's actually going to put all of your clothes away; that'll take like...forever.

with an eye roll in response to the cheer of joy gojo lets out, you set your boxes to the side and lay beside him on the carpet. he can feel your nose tickling his neck as you lean close to see his screen, and he wonders why his heart skips a beat. eh, it's probably nothing.

"this is so dumb, satoru." you point to his screen, your finger directed at his favorite prompt so far.

don't hate me if i: have blue eyes

"okay, wait!" he flicks your forehead, laughing as you pout, and clicks on the 'add image' prompt. "it's like a thing now! girls hate guys with baby blues like mine!" being handsome is so hard nowadays.

if he asked anyone at jujutsu university who the biggest player on campus is, they'd name him off without blinking twice. while only being a freshman last year, gojo managed to become a household (or a dorm-hold?) name that'll be talked about for years after he graduates. there may be a possibility he's either flirted or made out with every girl in his graduating class, not including you, all in one school year. without the use of dating apps, he went on a total of eighty-seven first dates from august to june; albiet seeing a few girls more than a few times for some special alone time, if you get what he means; and he had the absolute time of his life and needs to recreate that thrill again.

"you don't need an app to get girls, you get plenty already."

ugh why do you always have to rain on his parade?

"obviously i don't need an app, but it's way more fun this way." he argues, "imagine if i hit a hundred first dates before may. i'd break last year's record."

"and why are you getting so butt-hurt about my dating life?" he's treading into dangerous territory. the two of you never talk about your romantic experiences, considering you never want to talk about them with him. "it's not my fault you had a total of...hm what was it? zero dates last year?"

"just find a fucking photo and get this over with."

yeah, your love life is off limits...

a chuckle rumbles from his throat as gojo continues scrolling through his camera roll, searching for a photo that screams 'boyfriend material'...or to be more specific 'one night stand material'. while he's searching for a photo that'll make girls want to sleep with him, he doesn't notice that his brightest smiles only appear in the photos with you. then again, he never notices you; and if he ever did, it's unlikely he'd date you anyways. you're his best friend. he doesn't want to ruin that. he can't ruin that, because then he'd have to imagine a life without you in it.

a particular picture stands out from the rest, and you choose to point it out. it's the two of you in your high school uniforms, standing side-by-side beneath the cherry blossoms after your third year graduation ceremony. his hair is slightly shorter and his height hadn't reached its full potential yet, but you look absolutely adorable— almost like a kitten that he's protecting from the no-good boys of the world (technically he belongs in that category, but that's besides the point).

"do you remember when we first met?" a soft hum is murmured in his ear and gojo finds the sound quite comforting.

he thinks for a moment, completely blanking as the memory escaped his mind, and takes a random guess. "middle school? english class?"

the look of disappointment on your face immediately tells him he's wrong.

"look it was a really long time ago, i know that at least." no amount of excuses will make up for his awful recollection, but he tries nonetheless. gojo satoru is a shitty friend. that's just how it is. you both know it and he tries his best to be better for you, however, he can't help the way he is. some boys are born to be boys. "i'm trying my best—"

"it's alright, just stop."

you're so upset.

"there are more important things to remember, really it's fine."

why are you so upset?

"i'm sorry," he mumbles. this feeling of guilt isn't familiar to gojo and he can't help but hate it. "i'll try to remember."

what is it that you were trying to reminisce about? he wants to know but he shouldn't pry any more, you're clearly done with the conversation and want to move on with a concentrated thinking face gracing your features. you look pretty. woah. you look really pretty. he's never thought that before. why hasn't he noticed before? suddenly, the thought of however many hinge girls want him isn't very appealing and he just wants to make you smile again. you're so pretty when you smile. his heart is beating ten times faster than usual and he's urging it to calm down, but it won't.

...maybe that's a good thing, though.

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀pm or send ask to join/be removed from taglist,, ⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀link to miniseries masterlist

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⊹₊｡ reblogs are greatly appreciated! ˚₊⊹

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serotoninzo · 2 months

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to anyone who was a fan of wilbur or liked lovejoys music, here are some recommendations!!!!

(i must warn you that my music taste leans more towards rock/alt but i still have a lot of indie as well)

-wallows

-djo (it's actually great, not just the tiktok song)

-TopLady (my personal fav is Green Light Red Light)

-bikini kill, my beloved.

-current joys

-dayglow

-beabadoobee! (specifically her song, 'talk')

-gorillaz

-tame impala (i think their music is cool)

-brent faiyaz

-miguel

-the beaches (their song blame brett is addicting, for me at least.)

-ezra furman (mainly their song, lilac and black)

-the runaways

-CROWDED HOUSE 🙏🙏

-HOT FLASH HEAT WAVE (THEIR SONG HESITATION IS SOOOOOO 😩)

-yot club!

-peter bjorn & john (their song young folks is good, you might have heard it in gossip girls ep1, s1)

-empire of the sun (i recommend their song we are the people)

-wolf alice! (don't delete the kisses is popular, i think)

-song telephones by VACATIONS

-vance joy

-the drums (especially their song 'money', it reminds me of yot club)

-carwash (their song striptease is sososososososo good 😊)

-slowdive

-pinegrove [i think this one is controversial but i can't remember:( ]

-no buses by artic monkeys (this is a classic/popular band, you probably already listen to them)

-MICKEY DARLING (recommend their song im just a buzzkill and big sad)

-ladyhawke (mainly their song 'my delirium', i must warn that this artist is under the genre pop, just incase if you aren't looking for that)

-JAWNY (if you don't know who that is, one song that is well known is, 'trigger of love'.)

-WILLIS (i like their song, 'i think i like when it rains)

-Cottonwood Firing Squad (personal fav song of theirs: hospital beach)

-the daughters of eve (a classic, especially the song 'hey lover')

-fall out boy (i love them ❤️)

-EYEDRESS (i believe their song 'jealousy' is popular)

-Dream, Ivory. (i have so many favs of theirs but my no.1 is their song 'welcome and goodbye.')

-dr.dog (this is a rock band, their song, 'where'd all the time go' is popular, especially among the outer banks fandom.)

-cocteau twins (their song cherry coloured funk is a must)

-cherry by chromatics

-boygenius!!!

-big thief

-big black car by gregory alan isakov (this is folk not indie but it's still good)

-awfultune! (popular songs of theirs would be i met sarah in the bathroom but i also recommend their song redesign.)

-milky chance (their no1 hit was stolen dance)

you could also listen to the neighbourhood but less known songs (fallen star, jealou$y, etc.)

sorry if majority of these are rock/alternative, i have a variety of music genres i listen to but rock happens to be my number 1.

you might not like these recommendations but hopefully they give you an idea of what to look for.

anyway, sending lots of love and support to shelby and wilbur soot's close friends, i can't imagine what it must be like to discover someone who was a big brother, etc to you was so horrible to his own girlfriend. genuinely disgusting.

i will forever miss wilbur soot but i will not miss william gold.

i will miss the times when he'd play geoguessr or when he'd make silly jokes but i will not miss him being a literal abuser, groomer, etc.

i don't wish death on him however.

i hope he learns his lesson. i also hope he takes actual accountability, instead of whatever that shit 'apology' was. it literally overtook colleen ballinger's ukelele apology ffs 🤦‍♀️

#lovejoy #wilbur soot #song recommendations #band recommendations #i guess these are replacement ideas #i don't think anyone will like them since my music taste is all over the place but oh well

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joelswritingmistress · 1 month

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You Scare Me Professor (Chapter 57 - The Final Chapter)

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible.

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader

Healing. There would be an infinite amount of healing to do; though over the next six months there were little victories that aided in the process. Will plead guilty. It was an act that everyone was shocked about and ultimately it spared Carol a lot of extra heartache that she didn’t deserve. The evidence was already stacked against him, but now that Will admitted guilt, Carol would not have to sit on a stand as a defense lawyer grilled her and tried to twist her trauma around. For that, everyone was thankful.

Upon a leave of absence for the remainder of the school year, Carol returned to her job in September. In turn, she received a standing ovation from the student body and gained the full support of the staff there. Again, another part of the healing process. I knew Carol was hurting, but she persevered and thrived in her profession. She was going to make it because that’s what women like Carol did. They rose above. They made it.

“She even started coaching volleyball,” Joel informed me. “She was all-state in her younger days.”

Joel. My Joel. I had no issue calling him that all the time now. I tried to prove him wrong every day, and after a little bit of time and a lot of convincing I think it’s clear to him now that I will forever keep his secrets.

He went into a temporary retirement, and I changed my mind and pursued the rest of my Master’s Degree online. Without having to twist my arm too much, Joel convinced me to travel a bit to get away from New York State for a short while. It was therapeutic, to say the least.

I allowed him to take me to Nashville near the end of the summer, and then over to the Grand Canyon. We spent two weeks exploring California, extending our stays from a little ranch near the Joshua Tree, up to San Diego where I unsuccessfully tried surfing and concluding in wine country as autumn really set in. We hiked Washington State, made our way to Yellowstone Park, spent a few romantic nights on Lake Michigan before making it back to the East Coast in time for Halloween, where we crashed the small city of Salem, Massachusetts. It was the perfect ending, really.

Joel found us some cheap masks, and we blended in with the crowds that literally paraded every downtown street in the area. It was welcomed chaos and we spent the day taking pictures with spooky characters, sharing laughs, having some drinks and waiting in lines to slink into shops littered with folklore and magic.

When a light rain began near nightfall, Joel towed me away to a rooftop bar at the top of our hotel where he’d made a reservation earlier in the day. A gentle pitter-patter on the roof of the outdoor patio where we sat was relaxing. It was soothing music to our ears after a day of crowds.

From where we towered above the world, we could see two lighthouses in the distance over the blackened water. Below, people still gathered by the masses for whatever attraction, bar or restaurant they were seeking - if anyone.

“Here are your drinks.” A waitress came back to our two-person, high-top table with a pair of martinis and I sighed as she walked away.

“Ready to go home?” Joel asked, smirked as he placed a hand gently on top of mine.

My fingers squeezed around his and I nodded. “This has been a wild ride.”

“Happy Halloween.”

I grinned again and raised my glass. “Happy Halloween.” Our glasses tapped together and Joel leaned two-thirds of the way across to peck my lips. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He kissed me another time and then settled back in his chair. At the same time, we took sips from our drinks and I felt my body relax.

“This has been great,” I told him, unable to think of another adjective. “It really revived me.” I gave a nod and looked him in the eye. “How do you feel?”

“A lot better.” He grinned and added, “Thank you for sticking by me. You had every right to run in the opposite direction. You still do.”

“Dr. Miller,” I said sternly, making him chuckle. “I’m going to need you to stop trying to convince me to leave you. Unless you’re secretly trying to get rid of me.” I sipped on my cocktail and kept my eyes on his.

Joel leaned forward, never breaking eye contact. “I would never want that.”

“Then stop saying things like that,” I ordered lightheartedly, leaning back toward him just a little bit.

“Okay,” he agreed, “I’ll work on it.”

“Thank you.” When he lingered, I leaned forward and left a long, closed-mouth kiss on his lips. When I pulled back he was grinning and I chuckled.

“I’m thinking the exact opposite of that, actually.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I want you to be with me forever.”

I felt a blush form on my cheeks and I couldn’t help but smile wider. When Joel leaned back, reaching a hand into the pocket of his khaki pants, I felt like my body went numb. And then he pulled out a small, black box and pushed it across the table. I was frozen. My eyes were glued to the box and if it was anything other than what I thought it was, I knew it would be like a kid opening an empty box on Christmas.

“What’s this?” My words barely made it out past my lips.

Joel’s eyes remained on mine as he opened the box. My eyes dropped, staring at the silver ring in the center of it. A Diamond sparkled even in the dim lighting.

“Marry me,” he said quietly, linking his hands to mine on either side of the ring.

“Marry me.” I repeated the words to myself to make sure I heard them right. “Marry me.”

“Marry me,” Joel said again.

My gaze found his again and finally the tears that welded up in my eyes were tears of joy. “Okay.” I laughed and cried at the same time, “I’ll marry you.”

“Yeah?” He kept his voice quiet as mine grew louder, drawing a few glances from other patrons in our direction.

“Yeah.” I giggled and put my face in my hands as I continued to cry at the same time. “Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Joel!” I popped my face up. “Yes! Yes!” People were staring at us now and Joel looked around the immediate area, giving a wave and a smile before returning his attention to me. He reached for the ring in the small, black box and slid the ring on my finger.

I jumped up from my seat and I couldn’t help it. I rushed around the table and threw my arms around him, pulling him in to kiss him hard.

“I thought Halloween was a fitting night for us to get engaged,” Joel admitted, holding me close as he spoke in my ear. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“It’s perfect.” I whispered back, holding him close as my fingers gripped the hair on the back of his head. “I love you.”

“Did you two just get engaged?” A female voice shouted from a few tables away.

We both pulled back, still holding onto one another and I responded by showing off my ring. “Yes.”

The costume-clad crowd in the immediate area all began to clap and I couldn’t contain my wide, beaming smile and the tears that continued to fall. When a waitress got wind of it, she brought us over a bottle of complimentary champagne.

“I know it hasn’t even been a year since we’ve known each other,” Joel said, “But life is too short to wait. You changed my life, (Y/N). I’ve never loved or trusted someone more than you. I don’t want to ever risk letting that go.”

“I know how you feel.” We shared another kiss and then took our glasses toward the edge of the balcony that overlooked Salem. I couldn’t help but smile to myself.

A breeze passed through and made me shudder, causing Joel to pull me close.

“Any regrets?” He asked.

I smiled up at him. “None, whatsoever.”

**Thank you everyone for following this story. I appreciate everyone reading, reviewing and following. It made it fun to write. This is the longest story I've ever written and it's been fun because people were interacting and guessing whole the killer was and I loved it. It made it great for me, as a writer. So THANK YOU!

@untamedheart81 @suttonspuds @cesspitoflove @michilandcof @grogusmum @morallyinept @akah565 @brittmb115 @magpiepills @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @mermaidgirl30 @mandojojo @shotgun-shelby @itscatrodriguez-thepearl @macaroni676 @smolbeanzzz @bandluvr97

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luvrrszn · 8 months

Text

this is how you fall in love

BRADLEY "ROOSTER" BRADSHAW x FEM READER

summary just you and rooster, forever

warnings fluff fluff fluffy fluff not proofread !

a/n pls send me a man like rooster thanks

masterlist

the night bradley first met you, he knew one day you two would share a home filled with love and laughter.

despite the dim lighting of the bar and the crowd of people, you still catch bradley's attention from the very moment he steps into the bar. you're dancing with your best friend next to the jukebox, a grin plastered on your face. you're wearing a short red dress, the skirt of your dress swishing around you as you move to the rhythm to the music.

bradley can't help but stare. no one notices, except penny. she rests her forearms on the bar, leaning forward. she says, "she's single, you know. go shoot your shot." he smirks slightly, then turns to look at you, catching your gaze.

usually, when you're caught staring, you immediately look away. but with the help of a little liquid courage, you hold bradley's gaze, refusing to look away first. he stares at you and you stare back, even as he gets up from his seat at the bar and makes his way over to you.

"hey, gorgeous. i'm bradley, but everyone calls me rooster. can i buy you a drink?" he says, staring into your eyes. you'd be a fool not to accept. you were many things, but definitely not a fool.

"that would be wonderful." you tell him, smiling. you tell him your name and follow him to the bar.

throughout the course of the night, bradley learns your favourite colour, why you're in town, and most importantly your number.

"call me." you say, pressing your lips to his cheek after he drops you off at your doorstep that night. bradley replies with a "yes ma'am" and watches you fumble with your keys. his hands are stuffed into the pockets of his jeans as he leans against his car, waiting for you to make it back into your apartment safely.

only when you lock the front door behind you does bradley drive off.

—

the very friday the next week, bradley takes you out for dinner. he knocks on your front door at 630pm sharp, with ample time for you to make it for your 7pm reservation.

with a reservation at one of the best restaurants in town, you made sure to dress your best. you wore a long black dress, which hugged your body in all the right places. your hair was pulled back into a sleek low bun, your lips painted dark red. you looked pretty, and most importantly, you felt pretty.

bradley lets out a low whistle as you do a little spin for him. your cheeks flush as smile softly. you hold onto his forearm for balance as you put on your heels, and the whole scene feels oddly domestic.

strangely enough, you didn't mind. you had only met bradley once before, but the two of you had talked throughout the week, and you already felt comfortable with him.

"what are you smiling so happily about?" bradley chuckles, snapping you out of whatever fantasies you were thinking about.

"nothing." you reply, but your grin remains on your face.

—

the moment you realised you were in love with bradley was around the time where you were 3 months into dating. it had starting raining during your lunch date, so to shield you from the rain, bradley put his zip-up hoodie on your shoulders and used his body to shield you from the rain.

once you made it to the car, he opened the car door for you, and closed it behind you like a true gentleman. then, he walked back to the sidewalk. curious, you stared in his direction. you watched as he bent down and started picking things up from the sidewalk and moving them into the trimmed grass next to it. he was picking up....worms?

five minutes later, he came back running to the car.

"sorry for keeping you waiting, babe."

you didn't really know what to say, so you just replied, "it's okay. the worms...looked like they needed help."

"thanks, i knew you'd understand." he grinned as he started the engine.

—

the moment you knew you were going to marry bradley occurred when you were at mav and penny's for dinner. you had dropped something on the floor, and bent down from your seat on a chair to pick it up. without batting an eye, bradley put his hand over the sharp corner of the table, while continuing to talk to mav.

that very moment, you knew that you were going to marry him someday. you knew he was the one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. being with him felt natural, like it was the way things were meant to be.

no matter what happened in life, at some point the two of you were meant to argue over whose apartment to move into.

the two of you were meant to squabble over what colour the bathroom towels for your new shared apartment should be.

the two of you were meant to walk down the aisles of a supermarket to look for the nicest-smelling detergent.

the two of you were meant to squabble over things like the toilet seat being left up. (bradley learnt his lesson after that fight. the toilet seat was always left down. whatever you wanted, you got.)

the two of you were meant to sit at the dining table with cups of tea, going over your grocery list for the week.

and that was exactly what the rest of you life with bradley "rooster" bradshaw was like.

#📓—juniwrites #top gun maverick #tgm #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #rooster x reader #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #this is a cry for help #i'm kidding #but please lmk where i can find a guy like rooster #this is so bad idek why i'm posting it #i should probably sleep

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nhoirr · 3 months

Note

gojo and geto relationship gets me crying at 3am everytime

jjk. suguru geto x reader | sleeping hours : drabbles

FROM THE WALL — SUGURU HOURS

“WAKE UP CALL” written by nhoirr

Within this cursed world, once one is too curious stops for a moment of breath—the world will never stop for you.

At the moment you become separated from the time, the passing days of the world where the cruel reality dawns—the realization comes that you are.. alone.

.. What if, you talked to geto before he went down the rabbit hole?

#.angst, #.reverse-comfort, #.hidden-inventory-arc!geto,

HOW COLD IT WAS—this lonely night, where only the echoes of the pouring rain meeting the pavement floors filled the stillness of the setting sun, the moment where everyone laid rest.

A time of night where one would set their swords down for the night, to rest for another morning routine to come—duty of a jujutsu sorcerer meant all time was precious for rest.

SO IT BEGS THE QUESTION, that upon this opportune time that were few and far between—why was there now a figure welcoming the relentless downpour of the rain?

If you squint your eyes enough, you'd spot the familiar locks of the famous man—as well as a close colleague of yours; well, if you don't mention the minor feelings you've been blooming all this while.

The man—SUGURU GETO, was far too lost in the rain, perhaps something more eerie; sinister if you dare say, it begs the question lurking in your mind, telling you to pull him away before he drowns.

"Suguru?" — and to the voice came like a salvation to the man, you who sheltered him from the falling rain; did he finally come back to reality, pulled away from the thoughts that plagued his mind to near insanity.

He snaps his head up to look at you, though his vision blurred as his cloudy mind, he opens his mouth to speak, ".. you're still awake?"

There was another pause, soundlessness of the rain yet a million words hanged a million questions, forever unanswered.

"I should be the one asking that," you tilt your head to give a lopsided smile, one he can't help but reciprocate although not the same; the lack of light in his eyes doesn't go unnoticed by you—call you nosy, but you couldn't help to question it, ".. whats with the long face?"

Seems the question shatters whatever was left of his facade, his smile dropping in an instant.

"what gave it away?" he laughs that held no weight, almost a scoff if you hadn't known any better.

"Your eyes," carefully, you take a step down the stone stairs, finding a place safe enough to sit down. once you do, you speak again with a nod, "So, are you going to tell me?"

Instead of a smile you were poking at him for, it never formed. Instead there remained a silence that stretched on for eternity, silence far from peaceful, the lack of words spoke louder than any you could think of.

"It's tiring," he sighs out the words, beginning to massage his temples as if just thinking about it already made his head hurt.

"what is?"

he drops his hand, glancing at you from the corner of his eye yet hesitates at his own words. As if conflicted with the problem that was him, himself.

"This world," he finally finds the words to speak, emotions spilling from each and every word he'd utter—"you don't think-"

"it's frustrating?" you speak before him, yet he doesn't give even a sound for an answer. You guess he wouldn't speak any further, so you speak again, "isn't it so confusing, so easy to get lost.."

Though ends as a futile attempt, the man kept his lips glued shut, ".. but what can we do? the world won't stop for us moping around, duty calls." sighing in defeat, you move to stand up, with all these negative thoughts, you think sleep would be an optimal solution. So you give one glance back to the silent man, ".. I think it'd be best to rest your mind for the nigh—"

"This damned world," he mutters under his breath, yet loud enough for you to hear. perhaps its the worry, or you being too naive to know whats best for your own, you sat down again—peeking at the man beside you, this time, not saying a word.

Perhaps its the silence, the presence of another lending an ear out; does he finally say his mind.

"what is there left to protect?" — a philosophical question, one that even made you rack your brains out to think—for even a teen like you, never did you think of such a thing; so how could you have the answer? no matter how much you wished to answer his question.

who was it, you needed to protect?

"The weak," he—for once, chuckles; one thats deep, reverberating in your ears in an uncomfortable way that almost feels like mock.

".. that's an answer I would've given," his voice is hoarse, dry—not a hint of humor, tone was as sharp as a knife, perhaps enough to even cut at the raindrops or the coldness of the night.

You pause, speaking without thinking, "Do you not?" and the question speaks to his soul, echoing deep within the depths of his depraved mind—does he?

"Theres a line i've been treading," his unkept hair now dry and messy after the rain, bangs once framed his face now covered to hinder your view. ".. its been on my mind."

For you both, the answer lied with neither of you. And you knew it would stay like that for a while, for teens far too young for any of this.. how could you ever answer a question when you've only seen half of the world?

A teen.. an enjoyable part of youth—was the ignorance, "Then.. protect me," if you'd ever answer his question, it would be biased, wrong and..

it was what your heart told you so, just because you were young; couldn't you afford to be atleast naive?

".. you?" he repeats your words, finally he turns his head from the pavement floor to meet your gaze.

"If.." you start to say, stumbling with your words—these situations were never your forte, and neither was speaking your mind; well, your heart. "If you can't find anyone to protect, then .." boldly outreaching your hand, hovering over his clasped hands firmly shut, but with the gentle warmth of your fingers meeting with his cold hands—it eases enough for you to slip in, fingers slowly intertwine, "protect me."

Suguru finds himself staring at you, the twinkle in your eyes he swears he'd fight the world to protect.

"Atleast.. until you find another reason to," a bashful smile plays on your face, somehow tugging at his heart and he doesn't know when his eyes started to mirror yours.

Just.. why were you giving him hope? to what cause..

"That is-" theres that smile that graces your lips that his eyes longed for—the spark of radiant innocence shining down upon him, one he treasured with all his being. "Protect me, satoru, and.. those close to you."

slowly you move closer, and he lets you.

"Protect what you can," somehow, from what was left of himself you find something—a shred of warmth that remained in his heart, one that longed to hope in the face of despair.

"protect what matters to you, before you lose them to a decision you're not sure of." your words saw the world for what you could see, yet somehow spoke to the world as it was—to him, the naivety you held was what made you wiser; more than him, he'd even say.

So when your hand caress his cheek, when your shaking hand held his sleeve where once umbrella–now discarded in the pouring rain. "Life is not black and white, there is no line to be wary of, Suguru. So don't let the imaginary line tell you what to do, especially when it burdens you this much."

BUT EVEN AFTER THE DRAUGHT, to the relentless rain.. if he'd keep moving forward, perhaps there was still hope; maybe after the rain, there would be sprout—there would be the welcoming light of the sun, and no more rain.

That day, that night—SUGURU GETO TOOK YOUR WORDS, since then the promise was what kept him afloat all these years.

Yet still bounded, eternally wishing every night for his reason, his heart—you, to stay for a long while.

feel free to support an author by reblogging!

[📨] — I love geto so much,, itsniteven fudny I understand you annon, thank you for sending me this message.. I suddenly got a burst of motivation totally unrelated to the topic, but the scene of geto with yuki will forever plague my mind....

<- M-list !

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dinogoofymutated · 5 days

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Hey!!! Thank you again for Remy's one shot, it was amazing!!

I saw that you would like ideas for Cable and Warren, and I may have a few...

Especially for Warren....

I'd love to see Warren and mutant! Reader that "hate" each other, and reader thinks she has no chance with him, so she goes on a date. Warren is jealous and watches over her, and swoops in once the date goes sideways.

Words are said, feeling we shown, and Warren giver the fairytale kiss. (Could end with them going at it on a rooftop...)

Could be sfw or nsfw, either way I'll enjoy it immensely!!! I can't wait to see more of your work ❤️

Sfw! Warren/Fem!reader

OMGGGG UGG I LOVE THIS SM!!! I have a slight obsession with prompts like this- soooo yeah lololol. Oh! Also, I feel like I should mention this is more based off of comic and show warren, and not the version of him from the apocalypse movie. Hope this isnt too OOC!

Tws: Bad date, Warren is kind of an asshole but we love him. Kissing in the rain.

Warren Worthington is a dick. He's always teasing you, snatching your books, and pencils, and really everything you meed and holding it out of reach. He'll thwak you with a wing on purpose, always saying some stupid excuse like "Oh I didn't see you there." When you know damn well he did.

And he's not even like this to anyone else! It's incredibly frustrating, especially with how often he'll just up and completely ignore you to go flirt with Jean- who's still with Scott, might I add! Ugh!

It shouldn't matter to you whether or not he flirts with other people- the guy was clearly uninterested in you. But you just... can't help it. You really liked Warren, more so before this whole event started, when you didn't know him that well but couldn't help but blush at some of the things he did. You knew he could be kind, and he had a sweet side to him despite the cocky persona he's always pushing. (Because is it really a persona at that point?) But he just seemed so out of your league. Around the time you started pulling away from him was when the teasing started up, and to be honest, it had just confirmed your thoughts that Warren didn't like you.

Whatever, though. You'd get over it. You wanted to get over it. And the opportunity was presented to you to do just that. You had been out shopping one day with Jean when a man had approached you- not Jean, but you. It was really surprising, as most men would completely skip over you to talk to your beautiful best friend. You didn't hold any resentment towards her, it's not like she can help it. But when a rather attractive man approaches you, asking you on a date? You couldn't help but be flattered.

You were excited! Really, really excited for this date. You had put on a cute outfit, even throwing on a little makeup, dresses to impress you know? Plus, your date was really attractive, and for some reason, you felt like you needed to spruce yourself up a little bit to impress him. It had taken you forever to be happy with your look, with Jean reassuring you over and over that you looked perfect and that everything would be fine!

Eventually, his car pulled up in front of the mansion to pick you up for your date. You only had to glance at the window before you were running down the stairs excitedly. Of course, leaving couldn’t be all that easy, could it?

“What are you all dressed up for?” You hold in your groan at the sound of Warren’s voice. He’s leaning against the foyer wall, cocking an eyebrow at you with a smirk that makes your heart do something funny. Didn’t change the fact that you kinda wanted to punch him.

“If you have to know, I’m going on a date.” You say, rolling your eyes. His smirk drops immediately, but you don't really notice as you put your shoes on.

“A date? With who?” Warren Pushes himself off the wall to approach you, grabbing hold of your arm to keep you from running off just yet. You make a face at him, confused and a little annoyed at his attention.

“A guy. He asked me out while Jean and I were at the mall, not that you really need to know.” You snark. Warren scoffs at that, looking a little frustrated. He begins to talk again, but he’s cut off by the sound of a horn honking from outside. Your face falls, and your stomach drops at the sound. Your date must be impatient. You don’t like the implications of that. Warren looks angry, letting go of you as he takes a step back.

“You’re really going to leave with a guy who doesn’t bother to ring the doorbell?” He asks. You can’t find any words to say, feeling a little hurt. You turn away from him, quickly opening the door to leave. Warren can see your face light up a little as you wave at your date, closing the door behind you. Warren’s wings sag a little, left in the foyer looking like a lost puppy without you.

“You know, if you were nicer to her you probably would’ve had a chance.” Warren sighs dramatically at the sound of Bobby’s voice, turning to see that he had been watching the whole time, eagerly munching on a bowl of cereal.

“Can it, dude”

The fact that you're going on a date doesn't sit well with Warren. There's a pit in his stomach that he can't seem to shake, and when he tried to talk about it, Bobby and Scott just waved him off, telling him he was just jealous- and well, he was. But that wasn't the point! He didn't like that you were going on a date with someone random, or anyone besides him, really. He just had a bad feeling about it all.

He knows he doesn't really have the right to be as jealous as he was. The two of you weren't together- but at some point, he thought you would be. He liked you. More than friends should. He had for a while, but you started to pull away from him- so he started to do anything he could to get your attention. Sure, he wasn't exactly being nice, but he wasn't being mean. He wasn't trying to bully you or put you down, he was just… teasing.

Warren had been couped up in the library as the evening went on, staring out the window with a sigh as it had started to pour. He had been thinking a lot about what Bobby had said earlier, dwelling over it constantly. Normally when he was so caught up in thoughts like this he would fly around the mansion to clear his head, but with the storm outside that definitely wasn't going to happen. He sighs, resting his head against the window while his eyes begin to drift close, but a movement in the corner of his eye catches his attention. He sits up a little bit, squinting at first to see whatever it is through the rain. When he finally realizes, it is like he was hit over the head with disbelief.

...

The rain was cold. You were shivering as you walked along the asphalt driveway up to the mansion doors, sniffling the whole time. You knew you looked like a mess, mascara running down your cheeks in inky black streams, soaked to the bone without a jacket to keep you warm. The date was a bust. You should have known better. Been smarter. Hell, you should have asked someone else to drive you so that you wouldn’t be stuck in this situation in the first place. Or at least brought your wallet so that you could’ve used the payphone to call someone to come get you. But here you are. You were sad, wet, and despairing over the long walk up the driveway, but at least you were back at the mansion.

It’s hard for you to see through the heavy rain, so you keep your head down towards the ground to keep the rain out of your eyes. You don’t even realize that someone had run out to get you until you hear footsteps splash through the puddled driveway. You try your best to wipe the tears from your eyes, praying that they won’t be able to tell with the rain, but it is hard to hide the puffy red face the tears left behind.

You don’t really want look look up when you feel the rain stop, already knowing who it is by the sound of his gait. Warren holds the umbrella out to you, and you take it. He has his trench coat over his arm, and he uses the extra hand to wrap it around your shoulders. It’s awfully big on you, but it’s warm and dry, and you're thankful. You wipe at your eyes again when Warren takes the umbrella back, trying hard not to start crying.

“What happened?” Warren asks. You finally look at him, and the concerned look on his face just makes you feel worse. Your face scrunches as you tear up again, and you look up at the umbrella as you try to avoid the embarrassment. You don’t really know what to say. You don’t really want to say anything right now. But you do.

“He didn’t know I was a mutant.” You say, voice shaking a little. Although, you can’t help but let out a pitiful laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. “He thought that the school was just some place for rich kids. I mentioned it offhand because I assumed he knew- and he didn’t. He wouldn’t drive me home so…” You make a vague motion at your soaking clothes. Warren looks angry. Angrier than you’ve ever seen him before. He opens his mouth to say something and decides better of it. Instead, He wraps an arm around you and begins to guide you back to the mansion. You blush a little at the action, but realize he probably just has to stay close to keep the both of you under the umbrella- not that his wings even fit, by the way.

“You’re gonna be soaked.” You say, pointing towards his wings. Warren glances back, flexing the limbs just slightly, and shrugs.

“I’ll get over it. Wouldn’t be much of a hero if I let a pretty girl walk in the rain, would I?” Warren flirts, sending you a wink. You send him an incredulous look, before bursting out in laughter. Warren gasps, putting a hand over his “wounded” heart.

“Seriously? That was a good one, and you’re just laughing?” Warren complains, which only makes you laugh a bit harder.

“Oh please, that one was so cheesy!” You manage to say through the laughs. Warren is smiling, and it’s different than the smile he wears when he’s being an annoying jerk. His hair is wet, and his clothes are damp, but to be honest, you really start to understand why they call him Angel. You look away when you realize you’re blushing, but you can’t seem to wipe the smile off of your face.

“That guy was an idiot, by the way,” Warren says after a moment. Your smile falls a bit at the reminder of the start of the evening. “He really has no clue what he’s missing out on.” You snort at that, unable to keep yourself from rolling your eyes.

“You sure have a lot to say for a guy who doesn’t like me all that much.” The words come out before you can really think about it, and you’re caught off guard when Warren stops walking. He doesn’t remove his arm from around your shoulders, but he moves so that he can look at you better.

“What do you mean by that?” Warren asks, His face twisted in an expression you can’t quite figure out. The question and the seriousness in his tone surprise you, and you don’t quite know how to respond at first.

“I- Huh?”

“You don’t seriously think I dislike you, do you?” Warren asks again, worry bleeding through his tone. You furrow your brow in confusion.

“What?? Warren, you’re not exactly subtle about it.” You mention, and Warren’s recoil is unexpected.

“Oh my god, you do.” Warren holds his face in his hands for a quick moment, wondering how he had done so wrong. “Why would I dislike you? I literally spend every waking moment trying to get your attention!” You can’t help but let out a noise of confusion, mind working overtime to get the gears working in your head.

“By tormenting me, you mean.” You say, and Warren vehemently shakes his head.

“No! That’s not what I…” He begins, but he trails off. He’s trying to figure out something to say. Some way to let you know about how he feels, and his thoughts, but he just can't seem to find the words.

“Okay then, Prove it.” You eventually say, crossing your arms defensively underneath his coat. Warren frowns at you.

“What?” He asks.

“Prove it. Prove that you don’t actually hate me.” You repeat again. You’re not exactly sure what you are expecting him to do or say. To be honest, you half expected him to give up altogether, but you were wrong about a lot of things.

“I- you seriously want me to show you. Right now.” Warren asks again. You shrug your shoulders in response.

“Yup.” Warren seems to take a moment for the confirmation to process, and then he smiles just slightly. Like he’s in disbelief about what he’s about to do. Before you know it, warren has dropped the umbrella, cupped your face with both hands, and pulled you into a kiss.

You’re wide-eyed for a moment, simply letting him kiss you in your disbelief as the rain pours down on you once again. Your mind still hasn’t quite caught up yet. Warren is kissing you so deeply, so lovingly, that you almost feel like you’re dreaming. He separates from you for a quick moment before kissing you again, this one a little less intense, and finally you find yourself catching up to the situation. You kiss him back, heart thundering in your chest. You can feel Warren physically relax, his wings fluttering just slightly behind him as you fully lean into the kiss, hands latching onto his shirt as you move closer. You feel him sigh into the kiss, and despite the cold rain, all you can feel is warmth.

When the two of you finally separate, Warren rests his forehead against yours. His pretty eyes look at you with fondness, and you find yourself wondering how you’d never seen it before. All he really wanted was your attention, didn’t he?

“...We are so gonna get sick after this.” You mumble, brain still stalling a little bit. Warren lets out a laugh, pulling away to pick up the umbrella again. He pulls you a little closer than before as the two of you finally make it to the front steps.

“Yeah, Probably.”

#x men 97 #x men #x men comics #x men 97 x reader #x men headcannons #warren worthington iii x reader #warren worthington x reader #warren worthington imagine #x men warren worthington #warren worthington iii #x men angel #x men angel x reader #angel x reader

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poppy-metal · 5 months

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Okay but the slight angst of reader going from freshman to sophomore and Jordan into their senior year.. there’s gonna be other girls throwing themselves at Jordan once they leave god u and go into the seven (or whatever other career)

pulls my hair out because you know this leads to your probable breakup era,,,,,, they get busier and busier and you see them conforming more and more to what the sevens PR wants for them then what they actually wanted to be and they've always been popular but it hurts to see the world suddenly take notice and act like jordan is theirs when they weren't there for them like you were. its messy and its heartbreaking when you end it, you're in tears and jordan is trying not to be, you're telling them you miss them and they're getting angry because you knew this was coming - knew this is where they'd always end up. they let you leave, and for the first time, they dont chase after you.

its lonely and hard on the both of you, you probably don't meet again until a few years later - when you're graduating, and jordan is at the ceremony to do some press at GodU, its where they started after all, and you run into eachother. and its like no time has passed, with the way your nerves flare up the second they're around.

jordan opening and closing their mouth, before settling on a soft, "you look - you look good. congratulations, on ah, graduating."

the formal words make you want to scream, mostly because jordan has never been this polite person. not unless they were performing for their parents. it seemed they were constantly performing now. and you wonder how deep the jordan that used to sneak flasks into parties and ditch early to make out with you, is burried.

before you can even come up with an equally as stiff reply jordan is swarmed by fans - wating autographs and pictures and that fake smile is back - gleaming as they nod and pose. you turn because the sight churns your stomach, you dont notice jordans eyes watching you retreat, that flicker of something in their eyes like they want to go after you but cant.

you go home, and you're just there long enough to unstrap your heels from your aching feet when you hear pounding on your door. confused because you hadn't expected anyone at this hour, especially with the downpour, you answer it.

you have just enough time to register its jordan - in the same suit at they were at the party, drenched in rain, a wild look in their dark eyes, before they're stepping forward and gripping your face and yanking your lips to theirs.

you think you should pull away and tell them to fuck off, that they cant do this, they can't fucking abadon you and then just kiss you like they'd been starving for years and are finally being fed, they can't. but then they're moaning into your mouth and you're whining into theirs and you jump into their arms and you hear the front door shut as they kick it closed behind them.

they pull away just long enough to say, "tell me to stop - tell me you dont want this -"

"just shut up, jordan -" you kiss them quiet. giving your assent just like that. you hate them for leaving you, but you miss them even more. being touched by them makes you feel alive again. wakes up your body. you don't know if they'll leave again tomorrow, they probably will, but for tonight jordan is yours again. you'll let them fuck you - let them inside you - so that maybe you'll be able to keep a part of them with you forever.

#ask #jordan li x reader #sorry i love angst #exes to lovers....

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superb-fox · 6 months

Text

I wanna talk about how Sousou no Frieren treats heroes and demons, because in my opinion it's masterfully done.

We really only learn about one hero, Himmel. Sure there's the Hero of the South but what do we really know about him besides he had future sight and he died? I'll focus on Himmel. I think what sets Himmel apart is how he acts, in typical hero stories they're portrayed as kind, strong, willing to do what's right, all that nice stuff and while I do think those are good traits for a hero, Himmel is shown differently. We almost never see him fight, every time we see him it is in relation to an action he took that influenced people for the better. He takes on countless detours and quests because he can't turn down people in need, every where he goes he's doing good, when people talk about him they never talk about how strong he was or how cool he was it's always about how his act(s) of kindness changed their lives. They're happier, better people because he came through their town. He changes everywhere he goes for the better because of who he is and how he acts. He quite literally changed the world not because he killed the demon king, but because everywhere he went he improved people's lives, and those people because they are better change more people's lives and it spreads and spreads and spreads until the world is better. From random towns people to our main characters, everyone is better because of him. Look at Frieren for example, a complete stoic who before Himmel just was living her life in the woods doing whatever. But after? She takes on an apprentice, travels from place to place continuing the good Himmel did, she learned so much kindness from him in the relatively short time they spent together. Pre-hero party Frieren would have gone to a town, blended into the background, and moved on. But now? She's taking on quests, helping people, and making lives brighter. Why? In her own words it's what Himmel would have done. Fern owes her life to Himmel despite never meeting him because Heiter took her in because that's what Himmel would have done. Frieren looks after her after Heiter's passing because that's what Himmel would have done. Think of all the good she's doing traveling with Frieren just because of that! It ripples outward forever because of a great hero's influence. In other words, he's not a hero because of his great feats or his power, it's because of who he was and that's how you write a truly great hero.

Now let's talk about demons. People with third grade reading comprehension have made the comparison to real life peoples. That the text is saying that demons being just an irredeemable evil race is racist and compare it to how in real life people do that to justify genocide, but this cannot be further from the truth. Demons in this world are an offshoot of humans like elves and dwarves are. They're similar enough to look like humans, speak like humans, their magic is something special to them but similar enough that with study humans can use it just as well. However demons are truly the farthest thing from humanity you could be. The best way to describe them is how when you see two animals that look so similar but they're in entirely different evolutionary families. How a rabbit and a hare look similar but are so SO very different. Demons are closer to animals in that they do what they can to survive. They trick, they deceive, they hunt. These are not evil things, this is nature. A lion is not evil for hunting in packs to eat one antelope, a bird is not evil for walking a certain way to imitate rain and attract a worm. However when it's applied to something that looks and acts so incredibly human it can be seen that way. The lion ganging up on someone is not a fair fight, the bird is lying to and tricking the worm, these are absurd statements. Demons are a divergent evolution of humanity that cannot comprehend the traits that make us human but will use them to hunt us. They do not understand malice or bonds or guilt or love, they are solitary beings that understand power and magic. They biologically cannot understand it, them learning these emotions is like if a cat suddenly sprouted tentacles, it just can't happen. But because they lack the very traits that make us human while looking so human, they appear evil to us. How could something so human-like act so inhuman? Perform such evil acts without a seconds thought? But they're not evil, they can't even understand evil. Them using maternal love to have someone drop their guard and become easy prey is such a basic thing like waking up in the morning they cannot comprehend why people think it's bad. The problem isn't that one is evil and one is good, it's that evolution set these two species on such polar opposite courses that they truly can never understand each other. Yet they're still so close that there's always that feeling of that things could be worked out, that these two peoples can co-exist, but it is just biologically impossible. And that's tragic, that's heart breaking, for one species to exist peacefully the other must die. These beings so close to us yet so far must die. There's no way around it, no negotiating, no compromise, evolution and nature have played this sick dance to pit these two brothers against each other and it absolutely should hurt your soul, but it must happen.

#sousou no frieren #frieren: beyond journey's end #frieren at the funeral #frieren the slayer

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