#so it just. weights him just as hard. for him to go patches like accepting that whatever. he still knows her so that will come to light

[allastoredeer]

I just had to agree, that a huge Alastor fight scene is really all I want for season 2!

During "Stayed Gone", Valentino mentions a time that Alastor almost beat Vox, which implies that he narrowly lost in a fight between them.

He was badly injured in the fight with Adam, and had to retreat.

By the rule of three, it would be so poetic and amazing, if we got a fight scene where he doesn't back down, but continues to fight with everything he has, and emerges the unquestioned victor, wiping the smiles off the Vee's faces for good.

Bonus points if he actually accepts help from his found family, in the form of backup and helping him heal afterwards. He's so stuck on being a lone wolf (well, deer...), that him slowly learning to trust others would be such delicious character growth!

Actually, the way I interpreted Valentino saying that Alastor "almost beat Vox," is that during their fight Alastor was about to beat him. Like, if it continued, Vox was 100% going to lose. But the battle didn't see an actual end, with an actual victor, because, in my headcanon/theory, Vox was forced to retreat.

If Vox won, even narrowly, I don't think he would've been nearly as defensive or annoyed at Valentino for bringing it up. If the fight ended with Alastor retreating (or even losing), Vox would've milked the shit out of that. He would never let Alastor live that down. Hell, if the fight was recorded in any way, he'd be playing that shit on loop.

I think with Vox losing, it'd make him simultaneously eager for a rematch, but also nervous to fight Alastor head-on again considering he nearly lost (which might also explain why they never came face-to-face in season one. They only interacted from a distance, through their different mediums), and why he was SO happy when Alastor lost during the Extermination. He was living vicariously through Adam during that fight (Adams victory was HIS victory) because Alastor finally got a taste of the humiliation and defeat Vox felt all those years ago (and STILL feels, even now).

And considering all of that, I will go FERAL if there's a fight with all the Vees versus Alastor. I want to see what they can do. There are different ways to be powerful out side of strength and magical ability (see Rosie who's not physically or magically as strong as the other Overlords), so I want to see what Valentino and Velvette can do in a fight or on an intellectual level. The brains and the brawn (and whatever Valentino is.) I would laugh so hard if Valentino is actually the muscle of the Vee's. He's got very few braincells, but he can lift 2x his own weight, all they got to do is point him in the right direction. He's all muscle.

And I want that fight to be a close one too. In fact, if Alastor LOSES in that fight, my god, would that be such an angsty, complicated, even more humbling experience for him. Vox would be fucking THRIVING. He would be reveling. He finally beat the Radio Demon. He finally beat Alastor (and the complicated emotions. GOD the emotions that they'll both have during and after that)

But I also don't want Alastor to lose T.T He's my fav, and he already been so thoroughly humbled once, I think I'd collapse if he lost again. BUT if he were on the cusp of losing, got his second wind, and ultimately came out the victory, I would be screaming, jumping out of my seat, frothing at the mouth. I fucking LOVE that shit.

And super, serious 100% extra bonus points he gets help from his found family in the form of back-up or patching him up afterward. I think that would be amazing character growth for him. I WANT IT SO BAD ANON WHY DID YOU MAKE MY OBESSION AND YEARNING GROW I AM NOT A VERY BIG PERSON YOU'RE LITERALLY GOING TO MAKE ME EXPLODE WITH ALL THESE EMOTIONS

#ALASTOR CHARACTER GROWTH #I'm so excited to see his arc through season 2 #I can't wait to find out his past relationship with Vox #its confirmed to be “sad and complicated” by Vivenne Medrano and I WANT THE DETAILS SO BAD #guys its going to hurt #its going to hurt so much #im not prepared but Im so eager #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #the radio demon #hazbin hotel vox #vox hazbin hotel #vox the tv demon #the vees #vees #hazbin vox #hazbin velvette #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin hotel valentino #valentino #asks #anon #anonymous

[mediumgayitalian]

Will wakes up sometime around two, stumbling over to Arts & Crafts. He looks so incredibly, adorably sleepy, face creased with pillow marks and hair sticking out everywhere even worse than usual, that Nico can’t help his smile.

“Morning,” he says quietly, shifting over in the bench to make room. “Or, well, afternoon.”

“Mmfh,” Will responds. He sways on his feet, eyes still closed, so Nico has reach back and take his hand, guiding him to the seat Nico cleared for him.

“Still sleepy?”

Instead of answering, Will slumps onto his shoulder. Nico tenses for a moment, but quickly relaxes — Will is out of it. He’s a heavy weight on Nico’s side, and his breath comes out in little puffs; he’s halfway to snoring. He sets aside the clay sculpture he was making, wiping off his hands, and shifts slightly to make his shoulder more comfortable, sliding his hands in Will’s hair. After a quick glance to double check that no one’s around, he cards through the matted curls, carefully untangling the birds nest that sits currently upon his head.

“Night shift was long?”

Will groans, nuzzling deeper into Nico’s neck. Nico huffs, allowing it, turning his half-limp body so he’s practically sitting on top of him. It’s kind of a nice weight, actually. And Will is warm, slumped and half-sprawled in his lap like a freckly blanket.

“Got thrown up on three times.”

It takes Nico a second to decipher the words, mumbled as they are. His finger gets caught in a strand of Will’s hair as he winces, tugging a touch too hard. Will shivers.

“Oof.”

“Mhm. Shouldn’t complain, though. Not Cecil’s fault.” He pauses. “Well, it’s a little his fault. I told him not to mess with Billie’s garden.”

Nico smiles. “You know, it’s not the first time a Hermes kid has been poisoned for their dumbassery. You could’ve left his cabin to handle him.”

“They would do a horrible job. They might actually make him worse.”

“Yep.”

“…I can’t leave him to suffer, Neeks.”

“Hero complex,” Nico teases. “Sounds like a natural consequence to me.”

“Shhhh. I’m sleeping.”

“It’s two thirty in the afternoon, Solace.”

“Pot, kettle, et cetera.”

Nico smiles. “Only dorky people say et cetera when they’re half asleep.” He shifts, accepting that he has a lapful of head medic, now, no refunds or exchanges. It’s still, somehow, very comfortable — he feels as if he’s laying in a sun patch, under a warm, heavy blanket. Plus, Will smells like strawberries and lavender and his sandalwood shampoo. Nico could get used to it.

He does, however, subtly raise a couple skeleton to stand guard outside the gazebo — no need to get anyone gossiping. As cute as a sleepy Solace is, Nico can and will shove him to the ground the second anyone gets too close. He has a Reputation.

(He is a liar.)

“Did I miss the strawberry coffee cake this morning?”

“Yes.”

“Aw.”

Nico hums, untangling the last of his hair. Without anything for his hands to do, he slides them under Will’s hoodie, resting them in his stomach, ignoring his whining and exaggerated shiver at Nico’s ice-cold hands.

If Nico is going to function as his personal bean-bag chair, Will is going to function as his space heater. Fair’s fair.

“Saved a piece for you, though.”

He feels Will’s grin more than sees it, twisted up as they are. He feels his happy little wiggle, too, arms flailing before wrapping around Nico’s waist, thighs shifting before re-bracketing his hips.

“You’re my actual favourite.”

“Hm. I think you say that to all the boys you save you strawberry cake and let you nap on them.”

“Nah.” Will’s breathing starts to slow, body stilling as he rests his head right about Nico’s heart. He can feel his puffs of breath in his collarbone, tickling the skin under his thin t-shirt. “Just you.”

Nico flushes, more pleased than he’s willing to admit, and rests his chin on his head, watching over the strawberry fields. He checks that Will is actually asleep, and when he is, he presses a quick, darting kiss to his still-creased cheek, and smiles.

“You’re my favourite, too.”

#just openly and blatantly flirting for no reason #i need y’all to realise how Comfortable will is around nico……trusts nico w him sleepy and imperfect #y’all ever think about that #i do #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #nico di angelo #will solace #nico di angelo & will solace #nico di angelo/will solace #nico/will #will/nico #solangelo #pre solangelo #soft solangelo #like disgustingly so #soft will solace #soft nico di angelo #whipped nico di angelo #flirting #cuddling #fluff #100 ways #100 ways to say i love you #my writing #fic #longpost

[seresinhangmanjake]

Super Soft!Simon Riley x reader - You're terrified that Simon's not making safe choices when he's on deployment, so he comforts you. (fluff, allusion to future smut (barely), drunk johnny, cod inaccuracies)

Johnny recounts the tale of their hard-earned achievement—a victory, as they have deemed it—with a number of beers in his system that you’ve long stopped counting. As he sits at your kitchen table, he is looser, giddier, freer with his words, and spares no detail of your boyfriend’s selfless acts of bravery during their last deployment. Acts that got him shot at; one of those bullets finding their home.

You’d be proud of him, if not for the fear that built up over months from recurring nightmares and an overactive imagination—all of which had you losing the love of your life. But that’s not out of character. You think about yourself, you think about your boyfriend, before you think about the lives he saves when he’s away from you. Maybe it’s wrong, or unfair, but you can’t help it.

While Simon’s work is not something he ever kept secret, you don’t need the reminder that the preservation of his life is not always his priority. It can't be. There are other factors that dictate his future. He has a team, people who depend on him. He has responsibilities and orders to follow. Control is often snatched from his fingertips. And so, what does that mean for the two of you? 

You don’t care to think about it. Not tonight. Not at midnight from a friend who should have passed out on your couch hours ago. So you stretch, yawn, and excuse yourself for bed before your brain implodes from any more of Johnny’s ramblings.

Simon knows. He spent the night squeezing your hip each time you tensed in his lap at Johnny’s words, and now, as you stand to head to the bedroom, he holds onto your hand until your fingers slip from his. Deep brown eyes are filled with guilt and apology and all you can offer in return is a slight upturn of the lips that barely qualifies as a smile.

Away from the men, you cry in your and Simon’s shared bed, waiting for him to encourage Johnny to the couch. There's a few more loud laughs, a whine when Simon cuts off his friend's alcohol supply, and then a final groan of acceptance as you hear the springs of your couch squeak under the weight of a muscled body. It’s only when the animated snores of your drunk friend reach your ears that the door to your room creaks on its hinges.

Simon’s footsteps are thumps muffled by carpeting. From your peripherals you see him shed his clothes as he moves to you. Shoes, then t-shirt, then jeans, until he's in his underwear and settling onto the mattress behind you. 

His arm slips under yours around your waist and he tugs your back to his chest, into the cocoon of warmth. 

“Do you know what I thought when I first saw you?” he asks, gruff and thick. His voice rumbles from his chest, vibrating against your spine as his breath brushes your ear. “That my life is over.

“Everything I want, everything I need—none of it matters anymore. All because of one look at a woman who was too busy with her friends to notice me,” he says. “I thought, I'm ruined now. If you leave this bar right this second, I won't be able to forget you. And if you don't leave, I can't ever let you go. I didn't know your name and you had me ready to change my whole world for you.”

You sniffle but don't bother to wipe away the tear that escapes. “That's insane, Si,” you whisper.

“It is,” he agrees, pressing a kiss just under your ear. “But it happened. I let you in and you latched on to my entire existence like this beautiful, little parasite. Just like I wanted you to. My life ended and it became our life. 

“I don't take a single step without considering you. Not here and not there. So if you think I don't try to be careful when I'm gone, you're wrong,” he tells you. “I try for you. I try for us.”

Yet, ‘trying’ means he still gets injured; he gets another circular scar to add to the healed knife slashes and the burned patch on his upper arm. ‘Trying’ is not always about picking the safer of two options, but about optimizing luck, which is rare enough as it is. And that terrifies you.

“What if you step wrong not knowing that it's wrong?” you ask. “What if you think it's right and then you're gone? You can't tell me that will never happen.”

Simon sighs. “No, I can't. But you trust me, don't you?”

Turning in his arms—your nose nearly nudging his—you place your hand on his cheek and run your thumb along his cheekbone. “Of course I do.”

“Then don't mourn me while I'm still here, love,” he breathes against your lips. “Can you do that for me?”

You nod, because you’d do anything for him. 

“Good girl.” Simon smiles lightly and slides his palm from your back down the length of your arm. He squeezes your fingers, then moves further, tucking his hand into the front of your underwear. “My girl,” he whispers and presses his lips to yours.

A/N: i dont usually write different stuff but i felt like it so i did

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #cod mw2 #ghost x reader #call of duty #simon riley x you #cod ghost #johnny soap mactavish

[jamjaemin]

Hotel room ft.haechan (mdi+18)

“You still taste like me..” Your words slurred into his mouth as his tongue laced around yours sucking it between his lips. Toying with your bottom lip between his teeth as he shifted his position on top of you.

Wearing nothing but a pair of thin black shorts..his hair is wet, messily falling into his face, as his caramel skin held a strong glow against the dim lighting. Lying beneath him in nothing but one of his black T-shirts, One had snaking under the shirt allowing the pads of his fingers to tease up and down the warmth of your skin. Admiring the way your body tensed and released under his touch, slowly trickling his fingers down your stomach. While his other arm barched his weight above your head resting on the ledge of the couch in his hotel room.

Humming out in response which actually came out as more of a moan to be fair, letting his fingers find their way back to your heat, as if you weren’t already swollen and dripping onto the cushion as we speak. “Always so wet for me…so fuckin wet” Dragging his fingers painfully slowly up and down your lips, spreading them apart, grazing his bottom lip with his teeth as me moaned out,Jaw tight ,eyes admiring how wet you were..for him and him only. Dropping his head briefly to blow against your clit just to watch you squirm.

“All mine?” He dared to ask, brow arch at the implied question, while his eyes daring to say otherwise

“Fuckkkk yes..” the words left your lips in more of a needy whine than anything else as he collected your juices along his fingers. Finally bringing them up to rub against your clit. Back coming to damn near a complete arch at the sudden sensation as he applied steady pressure with zero warning or build up.

Eyes fluttering shut as your jaw slacked slightly “Baby…” Tone slightly breathy you weren’t even sure if you were asking him to stop or to keep going at his point.

“Stick your tongue out for me…” His command was simple..voice siting exceply gritty from the concert he had only 2 hours prior…doing as he said with no questions asked. Slowly letting the muscle roll past your lips, you already knew where this was going once his fingers left your clit.

“Keep your mouth open for me baby..” gliding his fingers along your tongue coating you in your own juices, “My babyyy..” He praised as he watched you obediently held your  tongue out until given further instruction leaning down to lap his tongue over yours. Slowly rolling it back into your mouth as he had you tasting yourself all over again. This time the kiss was deep, and somewhat messy, still skilled just messy.

You suddenly found yourself kneading out in pleasure, the faint cries of his name getting lost against his tongue as he slid three fingers in effortlessly. Going all the way..knuckle deep curling them upwards allowing them to curl inside your pussy. The muscles instantly milking  his fingers for everything they had, you couldn’t even help how hard you were already pulsing around him.

It didn’t help he started grinding his hips down into you, rocking your body against his hand as he fucked you open with his fingers. His grip on the couch growing tighter the deeper he rolled into you, you could literally feel his dick twitching through his sweats he was so hard!

Pulling back from you so suddenly it had you clawing for air, raising his hips slightly as he pursed his lips, aiming at your clit, as you watched a glob of saliva trail down his lips. Not that you needed any other form of lubericant he just fucking loved it. Your body tensing on command once it made contact, pressing his thumb firm against your clit, as his fingers probed that ridget patch buried between your walls.

“hyuck, baby fuck-”

You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to your second orgasm the quicker his thumb moved against your clit. Bringing his forehead down to rest against yours as you struggled to remain eye contact. “needy girl”

He accepted the almost non existent nood because he could feel how tight you were squeezing him “Yeah? Gonna come for me again baby? “ Bringing his opposite hand down to rock his sweats down his thighs just enough to free himself. His dick rock fucking hard as it knocked against your pelvis, twitching against your flesh the more you cried out . At this point he slide all three fingers out and used them all to unravel your clit nerve by nerve

“yes, right there right-” He could feel how hard your clit was getting so he knew you were so close. The minute your nails started to dig into his shoulders he slid right in, bottomed out completely in one roll of his hips. Didn’t ease in, no warning just full out filled you to the brim, he knew you could take it. He just went down on you now he’s helping you ride out your second orgasm. If you didn’t know any better you’d think he was thrusting up into your damn rib cage at some point.

“Fuckk” Left both of your lips in unsion the word danling of both of your tongues, not even giving himself time to adjust to how tight your pussy was squeezing him. He already knew he wouldn’t last long and right now he didn’t want to, he liked to push your limits but still keep it enjoyable not painful.

“Such a tight little pussy, no matter how much I fuck you, your still. Always. so tight” panig out between thrust as he rolled his hips down into you in a deep wave like motion. Pulling out completely each time, making sure to gaze your clit against his pelvis with every stroke. Making sure you felt every inch of him, as he moleded himself between your walls, the sound of your juices sliding in and out each time. The faint sound of skin slapping together bounced off the walls, as he wasn’t going too rough on you, taking his time, taking you at a deep steady pace.

You swore your nails broke skin as they dug into his back chest rising and falling, as every muscle in your body started to tense. Your moans weren’t even coherent at this point your entire body felt overwhelmed, every nerve was set ablaze with each roll of his hips. His eyes never left yours, no matter how low they got they never closed. Holding your gaze in the palm of his hands as he continued unraveling your body with every roll of his hips.

Bringing his lips back down to kiss every inch of your face he could reach shushing and cooing against your skin. Usining his oppsing hand to stoke up an down your thigh, carrassing it in his palm “I know baby, I know, your always so fuckin; good for me, I’m almost there, baby ride this out with me…”

#nct smut #nct dream smut #nct dream x reader #nct x reader #haechan smut #haechan x reader

[unboundndd]

Omg finally someone who is willing to write for kayn 😭😭😭 I have been starved FOR AGES i'm telling you. For the past months or so all I've been thinking abt is how Kayn would develop a relationship with a reader who's from the kinkou (a whole enemies to lovers if you will). Just some general headcanons about the relationship tysm ❤️😭😭 can't wait to see more of your writing!

hELLO hello!! I swear uni has been keeping me from writing, i had no energy but i am a bit more free for now~ i’ve been starving for Kayn content too so let’s get started!!!

//tag: enemies to lovers, kayn has no idea what emotions are

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· If anybody were to ask Kayn what he thinks about you they would be met with silence. It’s normal for him as he isn’t too keen on talking about topics like this and he finds the question a bit obvious: you’re Kinkou, he’s not. You’re trying to bring back the balance that Ionia has lost back alongside Shen, which means you’re actively trying to stop him from reaching his goals and true potential.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· If only this was what he truly thought, in fact his feelings towards you are much more complex. It’s not a mere matter of blindly hating you because of the group you’re affiliated with, it has to do with the fact that you seem to periodically appear where he is and always try to obstacle him. Despite that he has never felt the instinct to kill you, as if his brain doesn’t completely think of you as an useless nuisance.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· The fact is that you challenge him and motivate him to get better, fighting against you doesn't trigger the same deeply engrained reflexes he'd have when killing any other Kinkou alcyote or Noxian soldier. Every encounter with you keeps him alert, reminds him of the high he gets when conquering something that isn't handed to him that easily and despite the two of you being on the opposing sides of such a difficult conflict you can't help but look for one another.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· Accepting that you might have a crush on the man you're supposed to hate is hard, more than any normal crush. Apart from wondering if you're misinterpreting his actions like when he spared you after one of your missions went wrong or the time he patched you up as you hid from Noxian soldiers who were passing by, you also needed to conceal your feelings. If Kayn was simply toying with you he could use the feelings you grew against you, maybe this was just a cold manipulation technique to encourage you to lower your guard or maybe he couldn't feel any love at all.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· That said you still were unable to stop staring at him during another one of your run-ins, you were both alone and your eyes would keep wandering to his lips that were perpetually graced by a confident smirk. You wanted to slap him, kiss him, anything to make him shut up and stop taunting you. It was getting to your head and soon enough you found yourself on the floor, pinned against him and with Rhaast's blade dangerously close to your neck.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· If Rhaast's eye wasn't creepily staring at you, then at kayn and then back to you it would have been better. Maybe even enjoyable as the weight of his entire body was crushing your hips and legs, his expression wasn't revealing anything of his intentions so you had no idea if he was going to let you go or if he was done with playing with you.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· The fact that Kayn suddenly kissed you was so far away from your possible predictions that you thought you were already dead and this was just your brain conjuring up a happy scenario to aid you in passing into the spirit realm. He wasn't exactly doing a great job, teeth clanking against yours and clumsily trying to understand what exactly he needed to do, only when you kissed him back with the same fervor did he start to finally understand what he needed to do.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· "This is what you wanted, didn't you? Get. Out! Out of my head. It's- You're the one who's been distracting me!"

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· You were starting to feel like maybe there was a chance your feelings were reciprocated, Kayn wasn't looking like his usual confident self once he finally had to part from your lips. He was confused and angry at the fact that in the end you managed to beat him by thanks to your wit and your personality.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· Ever since that day you and Kayn have been meeting in secret, ignoring the loyality you were both supposed to have for your respective factions. You never have as much time together as you wish and you spend your days either sparring or lazily laying in each other's arms, it mostly depends on how Kayn is feeling.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· You're quite amused when Kayn admits to you that he's never had any kind of relationship, don't tease him for it though, not if you want him to deprive you of all of the affection you crave for the sake of sweet revenge. He loves to hear you beg for him to just kiss you or when you ask for a hug, the fact that he's the only one who will ever see you like this makes him feel very proud of himself.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· You also find out that Rhaast has been the one guiding Kayn and telling him what people in a relationship do, he basically has a corrupted, cruel but extremely experienced wingman by his side.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· Sometimes you have to sneak in/out from each other's rooms when it's late at night and even though you've both been training hard to be stealthy it's still not perfect. Shen knows, and Zed does too and both have decided not to interfere for the time being. Who knows, perhaps something interesting will come out of your new relationship.

#lol x reader #kayn x reader #kayn lol

[navstuffs]

Halloween Party

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x GN!Reader

Summary: Aemond kisses his half-sister's best friend (that he always had a crush on) at a party; aka Aemond and Reader drunk making out with masks without knowing who they were.

Warnings: MODERN AU, DRUNK PARTY MAKING OUT, rhaenyra is okay with her half brothers and sister, SHORT FANFIC, alcohol use, age gap (aemond is 19, reader is mid 20's)

Authors' note: THE HALLOWEEN AU FANFIC NO ONE ASKED FOR! i wrote this drunk but revised sober so lets hope i did a good job lol i have a whole AU series of aemond falling in love with reader that is rhaenyra's best friend. again, as with most of my fanfics, this can be read as a stand-alone fanfic.

Aemond debates mentally about what he is doing at that Halloween Mask party, even though his sisters Rhaenyra and Helaena urged him to go. He needed to have fun, his sisters and mom said earlier. Aemond isn't a party guy; he never really was, even during his teenage years. Unlike his half-sister Rhaenyra, he wasn't popular. Unlike his other sister Helaena, he wasn't the prettiest and adored by everyone. Aemond was content on being the quiet brother(at least not an asshole like his older brother Aegon) but with Helaena and Rhaenyra insisting so much, Aemond decided to appear at the costume party, wearing a pirate hat with a proper eye patch. Not that losing one eye when he was a kid didn't help him nail the costume. He didn't even bother wearing the rest of the costume, leaving the rest of the clothes at home. He probably looked ridiculous anyway.

Aemond didn't know anyone at that house party, except his siblings. He looked around for your presence but he didn't see you. You were one of Rhaenyra's best friends since her first year of high school and one of the few of Rhaenyra's friends that didn't annoy Aemond. On contrary, Aemond loved talking with you. You were smart, funny, and not futile like the rest of her friends. Aegon teased him about the crush, implying you would never see Aemond more than a single-eyed child. Aemond knew this: you were too hot, too pretty, and too important to stay with someone like him.

Aemond thought he saw Helaena's blonde hair pass him, dressed as a bug fairy (she explained to him earlier the existence of bug fairies) very fast before she disappeared into the crowd. Aemond was not going to message his older brother Aegon, that was also at that party. He couldn't embarrass himself like that. Besides, Aegon would just make fun of him and be no help, demanding Aemond get laid.

So, Aemond decided to hang out by the drinks table. One. Two. Three drinks and Aemond was feeling tipsy. He watched Mickey Mouse and Thor make out and what Aemond thought was a hobbit for Lord of the Rings drunk, being dragged by his friends. Aemond shakes his head, shifting his weight from one foot to another. He would have sat on the sofa if they weren't couples making out there.

When Aemond decided it was time to call a night, a masked Demon wearing a black tuxedo appeared in front of the table, grabbing one of the alcohol bottles.

"I wouldn't drink that if I was you. I saw a hobbit throw something in one of those bottles" Aemond warns, biting his lips.

The Demon turns and smiles at him, thankful and Aemond nods, awkwardly. He had noticed the Demon dancing before, moving their hips against other people in the black suit. They seemed to be having fun and Aemond didn't know if they were drunk. I wonder if they are sweating in that suit, Aemond thought.

With what seems a grateful look, the Demon disappears into the kitchen. They soon come back with two bottles of closed beer and Aemond accepts, making sure they are unopened, with a shy smile.

"Thanks, I guess?" The Demon smiles agreeing and for the first time, Aemond has a familiar feeling like he knows this person from somewhere "You don't seem to talk much, I suppose."

The Demon shakes their head and Aemond notices the powerful long black nails on their fingernails. It isn't hard to understand why everyone's eyes are on them. They are captivating. They are charming. Anyone that could make out with them would be an extremely lucky person. Of course, it wouldn't be him, Aemond thought laughing to himself. The Devil was just paying attention to him due to being saved from getting drugged. That could the only reason they have taken attention to Aemond.

Suddenly their finger points to the dancing floor, a tricky smile on their lips.

"I don't dance. I am sorry" The Demon continues smiling, their eyes shining in the middle of the darkness. Aemond could swear he knows them but can't really quite place from where.

Maybe it's the alcohol speaking.

Maybe it's the alcohol letting the Demon's hand grab his, guiding him to the dance floor. Aemond is nervous. He doesn't know how to move or what to do. He stands there as the Devil starts moving their hips and arms with the song, a slow and sensual ballad. The Devil passes their hands around Aemond hips and moves them slowly with the song.

Aemond had never felt so ridiculous. And aroused.

Aemond passes his hand through the Demon's hips and feels their groin suddenly touch together. Aemond holds back a grunt, hearing a gasp from the Devil. Aemond watches as the Demon moves seductively around him, ignoring all the stares, probably wondering why he, Aemond Targaryen, could get the hottest person in this whole party.

Aemond's hands pressure the Devil's hips into his groins harder and they welcome him, his hard-on rubbing against their ass. It is like no one existed anymore, there was no party, just them. It had to be the alcohol's influence; he never felt so aroused like this. Aemond prays mentally his siblings didn't see him like that.

Before Aemond could react, the Demon locks their lips together. Aemond moans in the kiss, feeling his face burn as everyone is most likely watching them. The Demon just pressures him even more, as if like saying 'Fuck them, let them watch'. Aemond's hard-on is even more noticeable now. Aemond doesn't really know what to do; his hands feel too awkward for that body. He never had done anything like that.

When the Devil's hand starts playing with his belt, Aemond pushes the Devil's away, his hands on their shoulders. The Devil immediately stops, breathing heavily, their lips swollen with the kiss. Aemond stares at their face, and with no choice, runs away. Aemond knows he wants to continue, he knows he wants to feel another hand on his dick, but he can't.

The Devil doesn't follow Aemond. They watch as Aemond flees, making no attempt on following him. They remove their mask, revealing to be nonetheless, Rhaenyra's best friend, Aemond's crush since he was a kid, Y/N L/N.

You wipe the kiss from your lips, a malicious smile forming. You didn't know your best friend's brother could kiss that well.

"Well, shit." You whisper.

You can't wait to taste more.

MASTERLIST

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x gn reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fanfics #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen imagines #house of dragon fanfic #house of dragon fanfics #not my best piece prob #AND HALLOWEEN IS ALMOST OVER LOL #im ridiculous

[yourchemicallyimbalancedromance]

Comfort At It’s Finest

Prompt: Virgil has a special blanket that sits carefully folded in the closet and only comes out after really bad days, when he needs it the most. It’s the blanket for huddling up and hiding under the bed, it’s the blanket for taking an almost-involuntary nap after the third panic attack of the day, it’s the blanket for pretending the world is less than sixty-four cubic feet in its entirety and has borders of fabric. It’s the blanket for retreating from a dumpster fire to cry himself to sleep.

It’s a blanket he got from Thomas, before he was accepted.

(Credit to @sleepyvirgilprompts for this idea which you can find here<3)

Ship: none? Unless you count this as platonic Thomxiety but I’m not sure, I don’t really see it that way.

CW/TW: panic attacks, swearing, unsympathetic Roman, unsympathetic Janus, sympathetic Logan.

Summary: Virgil locks himself in his room after the sides start fighting again, something about how almost all of them were holding Thomas back? He didn’t know, he didn’t care, he just wanted to feel okay again.

(Halloween has brought up some…odd and negative feelings, to put it lightly, so this is my way of dealing with that<3)

———————————————————————

Virgil couldn’t take it anymore; The shouting, the insults. He slumped against his door and covered his ears, breathing as if he had just run a marathon, trying desperately to remember the breathing techniques Logan had taught him. What was it? In for four out for…five? Fuck. He couldn’t remember, nothing he was thinking made sense, nothing in general, made sense. Everything was so loud and he couldn’t stop trembling no matter how hard he tried. He held his legs down with his palms and they seemed to stop shaking until he let go, all the built up energy making his attack worse than before. It was no use.

This was the third time they’d fought this week.

It was Thursday.

His hands didn’t muffle all the sound, however; he heard every single thing the others were saying in the commons; it was as if a megaphone had been held up to his door.

“well maybe if you weren’t such an asshole I would have t-“ Roman was cut off by..Janus?

“I’m the asshole?! I’m not the one who’s so deeply insecure that they have to project their shit onto others” he screamed.

The house fell deadly silent apart from Virgil’s heavy breathing. He could hear his heart in his ears. He wanted to go home, he was home, but this didn’t feel like what you would call a home.

“Fuck you, Janus. There’s a reason Thomas didn’t accept you for years.” Roman finally said, from the sound of it, through gritted teeth.

He heard someone stomp a few feet near his room, open a door, and slam it. Virgil froze, the sudden noise sending shock waves through his body.

he wanted everything to stop; the loudness, the insults, the fights, the slamming of doors, the stomping, the yelling, the anxiety, he wanted to be held and told he was safe, he wanted to go home, he wanted-

His tearful eyes drifted over to his closet to see a weighted blanket neatly folded and shoved into the back where no one but him could find it.

His blanket.

He pushed himself up off of the ground, a hand against the wall so he wouldn’t fall due to tremors in his legs. He reached up and grabbed it, letting it fall onto him, nearly causing him to fall to the floor.

The blanket was soft; light, but heavy enough to weigh on you a little. It was checkered black and white with little ghosts on every other patch. He eased up just the smallest bit at the sight of it. Thomas had given him this after the ‘My NEGATIVE Thinking’ video.

He quickly fell on to his bed, holding the blanket to his chest. it smelled of cinnamon and honey. Virgil had forgotten how in the worst of moments, if he pulled out his blanket, it would immediately default to any scent of his choice; subconsciously, he had chosen cinnamon. It reminded him of better times, happier times. How he and Patton had baked cinnamon rolls a few months after he was accepted, the smell of sugary sweetness wafting through the air.

The slight hint of honey reminded him of his first panic attack in front of the light sides, how he had curled into himself on the couch, silent tears escaping his eyes, face hot and red, unable to breathe, to speak, to move. Logan had helped him through it.

“Breathe in for four seconds,” he had said, inhaling, crouched down in front of him. “Hold it for seven seconds” he paused and waited for Virgil to follow his lead, and once he did he continued, “out for eight seconds.” He exhaled.

Virgil was so embarrassed that Logan had seen him like that that he proceeded to apologize profusely. “God, that was— I’m so, so sorry, I don’t know what that was, well I do, I think? It’s never been that bad I just—“

“That was what is known as a severe panic attack, Virgil. I take it you’ve never had one to that extent before?” His eyes were kind, caring, behind his glasses.

Virgil just shook his head, he didn’t know what to say, he felt that if he tried to talk the only words he would be able to say would be “I’m sorry” over and over again.

“I see. Say, do you like honey? Maybe lemon?” He had asked

Virgil nodded, and before he could stop him, Logan had begun making Honey and Lemon tea. Something about how “it’s very calming and quite good as well” he had said.

Virgil hadn’t noticed his eyes drift closed but he didn’t feel the need to force them back open. The sharpness of the house felt dimmer, quieter; as if they were sizzling into a low hum, something waiting to pounce again. He was too fatigued to worry about it, even though something in his gut told him to stay alert, something was bound to happen again, he didn’t listen, just readjusted positions under the warmth of the blanket.

He needed to say thank you to Thomas later.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #ts virgil #virgil sanders #logan sanders #ts logan #roman sanders #ts roman #ts janus #janus sanders #unsympathetic Janus #unsympathetic Roman #slight thomxiety? #idk lol I don’t really consider it that but eh #slight angst #slight fluff as well? #not extremely proud of this one but proud nonetheless #I totally didn’t write this while laying under my weighted blanket /sarc /j

[weenwrites]

Heyo! Could I have some headcanons about TFP Ratchet with a younger cybertronain s/o who can’t go out on the field due to past injuries and feels useless/is dealing with depression? Maybe Ratchet could help the reader stretch or give them a massage so they could possibly move faster, and the reader doing the same in return? The writing would mean a lot to me, thank you!

✎A/N: Please let me know if I've gotten anything wrong, and I hope you enjoy it!

[ Please do not repost, plagiarize, or use my writing for AI! Translating my work with proper credit is acceptable, but please ask first! ]

Ratchet

Ratchet was there when you were first told that your injuries were too severe for you to continue going onto the field. He was there to comfort you, to listen to you, to keep you company, and to take care of you through your recovery. And the chances are that he was the doctor who fixed you up, which means he feels immense guilt that he wasn't able to treat you well enough so you'd make a full recovery.

While he knows that feeling guilty won't change anything, he can't help but feel horrible anyway whenever he sees that you're having a hard time. Still, he tries to use this guilt to motivate himself to help you do simple exercises or stretches to try and improve your mobility.

He'll take 50 minutes out of his day to do some wrist and ankle rolls, knee marches, torso twists, heel slides, calf raises, etc... Or if possible, he'll have you do some curls with some relatively light weights. And the moment you start feeling any discomfort or pain, he'll have you stop and try something else or sit and rest for a while.

He's told you before that you should do your stretches and exercises without him, but you've managed to convince him to join you anyway. Sometimes, other members of the team will join in on the exercising and stretching sessions just to keep you company and talk with you.

Since most of—if not all your time is spent at the base, he'll have you assist him with some of his work at times, just to give you something to do (he's started doing it ever since he learned that you felt useless). Though he won't have you doing any heavy lifting or rigorous physical activity, he'll have you help him with cleaning up his workspace, or perhaps bringing him light-weight tools. Or if you have some scientific or medicinal knowledge, then he'll have you help him perform regular checkups on the team, or simple patch-up jobs whenever they get injured. Or if your strengths lie elsewhere, in things such as military strategizing, mission coordination, or managing communications, then you can do that from the base as well.

He then learned about aquajogging online and performed some extensive research on its benefits and drawbacks. He was curious, and so using his connections with Fowler, he managed to find a massive indoor pool to use. Of course he tested it out himself to see if it would be beneficial for cybertronians before allowing you to try it out. Or if you don't like that, then he's taken the kid's advice and rigged an exercise video game set-up, if you want something more entertaining to motivate you to exercise.

At times whenever you feel down, upset, or mourn the loss of what you used to be able to do, he'll remind you that you've made much progress towards improving your mobility thus far. He'll point out things that used to be much more difficult, and how you're now able to do them easier after taking the time to exercise and stretch for however long it's been, and he'll place a lot of emphasis on how proud he is that you've made it so far.

Or if you're upset about being useless, he'll keep emphasizing that no matter what you think of the work you for the team from back in the base, it's still valuable and it helps them greatly. And depending on what you do, the team will be sure to back him up and tell you about how helpful your strategies were for winning a key battle, for example, or how your coordination during missions helps them work together better, so on and so forth.

#tfp imagines #tfp headcanons #tfp x reader #tfp ratchet #ratchet x reader #x reader #reader insert #self insert #weenwrites

[bambirex]

Could we see Geralt trying to work up the nerve to confess his feelings to Jaskier? 👀

Oooh I've been looking forward to writing something like this! 😁

Warnings: none

**

Witcher hearts were supposed to beat slower, everyone knew that. Yet, Geralt's own pounded so hard, it felt like it was going to burst out of his chest any minute.

He looked into the mirror with a sigh. His reflection, flushed and with barely masked panic in his eyes, stared back at him. Geralt believed that if his brothers would have seen him now, they would've had a field day making fun of him. After all, why was the big White Wolf of the Continent so flustered, acting like a blushing maiden?

Jaskier has been his companion, his friend for long years now. There was no reason to feel so nervous around him. They bathed each other, patched up each other's wounds and often slept in the same bedroll. They knew each other well, and could trust each other.

Except, somewhere along the way, Geralt has fallen in love with him. Or, maybe he has always been in love, just needed some (very long) time to accept and admit it. He would have probably kept it to himself, if it weren't for that unfortunate hunt that's happened a couple days prior, where a monster has attacked Jaskier. He was fine, luckily, but it could have been much worse. Geralt only then realized just how close he has gotten to losing him, and how life really was short, especially for a human. He couldn't waste any more time lying to himself and Jaskier. He needed to tell him how he felt.

That was how he has ended up practicing his speech in front of his mirror, making a complete fool out of himself.

"Jaskier, you're... you're the best thing that has ever happened to me...?"

No, that was too much.

"You make me happy?"

A little better.

"I can't live without you, you're beautiful and sweet...?"

Once again too much. Gods above, Geralt really didn't know how to do this. And if he already felt so anxious just imagining confessing to Jaskier, what was he going to do once he actually stood in front of him?

He rubbed at his temples with a groan. This was not working. Jaskier always told him to stop overthinking things. Maybe he should just wing it.

*

Jaskier was worried that Geralt was either cursed, drunk on some special witcher liquor, or having a stroke. His witcher stood in front of him, shoulders slumping, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. He opened his mouth over and over, but no word came out.

"Geralt," Jaskier said cautiously, "is everything okay? Should we get Yennefer?"

"Jaskier, I have to tell you something," Geralt squeezed out from between gritted teeth. Jaskier bit his lip, trying to stop himself from imagining the worst scenarios. "You're... I am... shit."

"It's okay, take your time," Jaskier told him softly, laying a gentle hand on Geralt's arm. Geralt swallowed audibly.

"Jaskier, you're happy and I can't live without the best thing, you make me beautiful. Erm... no. Shit."

Jaskier blinked rapidly. What in Melitele's name was happening?

"Geralt, what was... something is clearly wrong. I'm gonna get Yennefer, you're speaking nonsense."

"No, I wanna..." Geralt groaned. He looked so desperate, that Jaskier decided not to run for help just yet. He waited instead, wondering if Geralt would start speaking elder next.

What happened instead, was Geralt suddenly cupping his cheeks and kissing him so deeply that all the air was knocked out of his lungs. Jaskier stumbled for a moment, before he steadied himself by grabbing onto Geralt's broad shoulders.

"Is this a dream?" Jaskier whispered when Geralt pulled away. Only now did he notice the flush on Geralt's cheeks.

"I wanted to tell you, but I couldn't," Geralt said quietly. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Jaskier smiled. His heart swelled inside his chest, and for a second he thought it would burst. He reached up to caress Geralt's cheek, making him lean into his touch.

"I think I understood what you wanted to say perfectly."

With that, he pulled Geralt down into another kiss.

#geraskier #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher fic #geralt of rivia #jaskier #my fic #request #paladinmoony

[pr0cyon-lotor]

SOUL EATER AU!!! SOUL EATER TERUKANE!!!

Hear me out! I'm having thoughts!

 

Teru, after decades of the Minamoto Clan only having meister kin, is the only weapon to come out of the family. He was a surprise, and they didn't really know what to do with him. This caused him to want to improve himself, so he'd be recognized by his family. So he self-wields. He learns how to hunt Kishin eggs and even witches. Although he refuses to become a death scythe until he "proves" himself to his family.

Even though he's one of the best weapons in the school and is comparable to full-on death scythes, he doesn't believe he is strong enough. Everyone assumes that he is a katana, and he doesn't correct the rumor since that's the weapon his family is known for wielding. But I think it would be awesome if he was a Nagamaki! They're quite similar to katanas and have a longer handle, so there's better control as well as more weight in attacks. And they're a bit more versatile since they can counter and block attacks more effectively since you can control the blade more. They also have a longer reach, if I remember correctly.

 

Okay, to Akane. He's a meister with no prominent background, but he's a fine utility meister. He originally joined the school with Aoi as his weapon partner, but they separated when Aoi found a meister who she resonated with better. They're still friends, and they don't have bad blood. Akane typically works with weapons he can match with until they find another meister or they fall out. So he never had a weapon partner to truly call his own.

They met on a mission that was accidentally double booked (or was it? 🤨 Lord Death could've shipped it). And that meeting sparked a rivalry that no one expected. Akane's current weapon noped out of there because the romantic tension was suffocating. (Eventually, they calm down)

I think it would be nice if, after a while, they started feeling comfortable with each other and started hanging out with each other more. And suspiciously, Akane hasn't gone out to look for a new weapon partner in a while, and aren't they hanging out after school a lot more than with anyone else? 🤨

I think it would be silly if they were forced to work together because Teru's 99 kishin egg could be reset for some reason. So they work together, with Akane looking for more difficult missions so Teru isn't bored and patching up Teru if he gets hurt, and Teru actually doing the dirty work because he refuses to accept help. But they underestimate one mission and get ambushed, and Akane is forced to ACTUALLY wield Teru, so they actually have a chance.

And shockingly (or not so shockingly), they're a perfect match! Teru's wavelength was hard to match for anyone normal because it was too strong and erratic, but with Akane being well-versed in changing his wavelength to accommodate his former partners, he could match Teru. They win the fight with minimal injuries and a few more kishin eggs than expected.

Teru took a few days off to fully process everything, with the encouragement of EVERYONE! NO ONE WAS GOING TO LET HIM JUST SWEEP HIS FEELINGS UNDER THE RUG FOR THE SAKE OF NOTHING CHANGING!!! NO ONE WAS GOING TO DEAL WITH HIS BS!!!

So when he came back, he and Akane officially became weapon partners. During missions, Teru still took the initiative and did a lot of the fighting, but with Akane there to fall back on if he needed help, backup, or simply wanted to be wielded.

And when they finally got to the last soul on the list, the witch's soul, Akane was willing to wait for Teru to get stronger, like he usually wanted. But instead, Teru takes on a mission to hunt a witch. They take on the assignment and actually succeed!! :D

And Teru is a death scythe! Then, they kiss. Aren't they cute? I hope they get therapy soon. 🙏

 

I like to imagine that after this, they'll be caring for Kou and Tiara. They're watching Kou and his weapon partner, Mitsuba, and just going, "Wait! We were like that?!" The entire time

#there's a not-so-subtle metaphor here that I'm too lazy to point out #i had a vision #i have an idea for Aoinene too #but I'll write it out later #terukane #tbhk #soul eater #akane aoi #tbhk akane #teru minamoto #tbhk teru #idk i'm having thoughts #i know it would make sense for Teru to be a katana BUT I'M THE WEAPON NERD HERE LET ME LIVE

[rubyarrows]

Navigating Friendship

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the city of New Orleans. The NCIS office was quieter than usual, the day's investigations having come to an end. Chris LaSalle sat at his desk, glancing at a photo on his desk—a picture of him, YN, and a few friends from their time in the academy. His mind drifted to those days, to YN, his closest friend.

On the other side of the room, Meredith Brody was organizing her files. She noticed LaSalle's distant gaze and walked over, concern etching her features. "You alright, Chris?" she asked softly.

LaSalle sighed, tearing his gaze away from the photo. "Yeah, Brody, I'm good," he replied, forcing a smile. But Brody wasn't convinced; she knew him too well.

"Chris, I've seen that look before," she said, her voice gentle. "You've been distant lately. Is there something bothering you?"

LaSalle hesitated, his fingers tapping a rhythm on the desk. He and YN had always been inseparable, sharing everything. But there were some thoughts he hadn't even shared with her. "It's just... things have changed, you know? YN and I used to be so close. Now, it's like we're drifting apart."

Brody leaned against the desk, her expression sympathetic. "People change, Chris. It's a natural part of life. But true friends find a way back to each other."

"Yeah, I know," LaSalle murmured. "I just... I wish I didn't care so much. It's like every time I see her, I remember how things used to be, and it's hard to accept that it's not like that anymore."

Just then, Dwayne Pride walked into the office, his presence commanding attention. He overheard snippets of their conversation and approached them. "What's going on, y'all?" he asked, his gaze shifting between Brody and LaSalle.

Brody glanced at LaSalle before turning to Pride. "Chris is just going through a rough patch with YN."

Pride nodded, understanding in his eyes. "Change can be tough, especially when it comes to friendships. But remember, you can't control everything. Sometimes, you just have to let things evolve and find their own rhythm."

LaSalle sighed again, his shoulders slumping. "I know you're right, Pride. It's just hard to let go."

Pride clapped him on the shoulder. "You're a strong guy, Chris. You'll get through this. And who knows, maybe things will find their way back to where they should be."

As the three of them stood there, united in their understanding, LaSalle felt a bit of weight lift off his chest. Maybe he couldn't control everything, but he could control how he approached the situation. He looked at the photo on his desk once more, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Thanks, y'all," he said, genuine gratitude in his voice. "I appreciate it."

As they continued chatting, the camaraderie and support within the NCIS office were palpable. Though change was inevitable, the bonds they shared remained unbreakable. And as the city of New Orleans continued to bustle outside, inside the office, a sense of unity and friendship prevailed.

YN and Chris's shared apartment was a cozy haven tucked away in a quieter part of New Orleans. The walls were adorned with photographs that captured their adventures over the years – snapshots of them on the beach, at Mardi Gras parades, and in front of the city's iconic landmarks. The apartment was a reflection of their bond – warm, inviting, and filled with memories.

On a typical evening, YN sat on the couch, engrossed in a book. The soft glow of a lamp illuminated her features, casting a warm halo around her. Chris, his signature grin in place, entered the room carrying two steaming mugs of coffee. He handed one to YN, who looked up and smiled.

"Thanks, Chris," she said, setting her book aside and taking the mug. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air.

Chris settled onto the couch beside her, taking a sip of his coffee. "What's the book this time?" he asked, nodding towards the novel on the coffee table.

YN held up the book, showing him the cover. "It's a mystery thriller – you know, right up my alley."

He chuckled. "Always with the mystery novels. I swear, you could probably solve a real crime with all the stuff you've read."

YN playfully nudged him with her elbow. "Well, you've got your crime-solving covered at work. I just do it for fun."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, the only sounds in the room the rustling of pages and the occasional turning of coffee cups. The apartment felt like a sanctuary, a place where they could unwind and be themselves without the pressures of their demanding jobs.

After a while, YN closed her book, placing it on the coffee table. She looked at Chris, her gaze contemplative. "You seemed a bit distant today at the office," she said gently. "Is everything okay?"

Chris sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I guess. It's just... things have been changing, YNN. We've been through so much together, and now it's like we're moving in different directions."

YN nodded, her expression understanding. "Change is a part of life, Chris. But it doesn't mean our bond is any less important. We'll always be there for each other."

He smiled, gratitude in his eyes. "You're right. I don't know what I'd do without you, YNN."

She grinned back. "Likewise, LaSalle."

As the evening wore on, they shifted their attention to a board game, their friendly competition filling the air with laughter and banter. The apartment echoed with the sounds of their camaraderie, reaffirming the strength of their friendship.

In the corner of the living room, a shelf displayed trinkets from their adventures – seashells from a beach trip, a feathered mask from a Mardi Gras celebration, and a miniature replica of a jazz band, a tribute to the heart of New Orleans. These items were more than decorations; they were a testament to the memories they had created together.

As the night grew darker and the city's sounds softened, YN and Chris's laughter continued to resonate within the apartment walls. Their shared space was a sanctuary not just from the world outside, but also a reminder that no matter how much things changed, the foundation of their friendship remained unshakable.

#ruby arrows #ruby arrows imagines #ncis #ncis new orleans #ncis x reader #ncis imagine #ncis fanfiction #ncis new orleans x reader #ncis new orleans imagine #ncis new orleans imagines #ncis new orleans fanfiction #chris lasalle #chris lasalle x reader #chris lasalle imagine #chris lasalle imagines #chris lasalle fanfiction

[marshmallowprotection]

Ray felt shameful.

Even as he recovered from the explosion, he felt guilty and shameful for how the situation played out. No matter how much he begged, pleaded, or lamented with her to leave him behind and save herself—she refused to let him be alone if that was the end of his life—and her blood was on his hands because of it.

Neither died from the explosion, instead, they were left with scars that wouldn’t leave no matter how many years passed by. He could live knowing that he had marred his flesh because he just couldn’t do anything right—he couldn’t dispose of himself properly—but the scars on her body felt like they were his to take the blame for in the end.

She might’ve stayed with him, knowing what that meant in every way, but she didn’t choose to carry the weight of his sins. She chose to stand to with him so he wouldn’t be afraid to... you know... go away by himself. He spent too many years alone and afraid... and his selfish wish was the ugliest of all, because he felt ultimately grateful that someone was there with him.

Even though the guilt was just as powerful to him as that relief. Even though it’d been a few months since the explosion, he couldn’t shake these feelings away no matter how hard he tried. They were a part of him now... and he doubted the emotions were going to stop vexing him anytime soon. It might’ve been easier to bite his tongue, lay down in the cabin V decided to hole them in, and cry.

But, he couldn’t do that.

The pain of immobility was worse than the pain of a gentle breeze hitting his body like a thousand paper cuts.

It left Ray to sit there on the porch, watching Lila as she sat underneath a tree, a pencil in hand as she stared at the patch of dandelions that swarmed around her legs. She had every reason to be sent back to the RFA... to America... to people who could take care of her better than he ever did. She could’ve gone back to a life that wouldn’t hurt her like... like he did.

Yet, there she was, a sunhat protecting her face from overexposure from the sun and an eye-patch to limit the damage to her pupil. Even if he took the brunt of it that day... leaving most of his right side from his cheek to his mid-thighs with the abrasive edge of frayed skin... it didn’t change the fact that she got hurt, too. The fire licked the left side of her face, burning her cheek from just beneath her eyes to her shoulder blades.

Her hair was no longer in waves that cascaded down her back. it was short and framed her face in a way that made him wonder if it tickled. The curls kissed her cheeks in a way that he once... dreamed of doing. As always, he felt like he was transfixed on her image and he wanted nothing more than to paint her face like a portrait that would never fade from the gallery of his mind.

But, his quivering hand wavered and couldn’t bring his brush to the canvas like he once had. A half-finished painting haunted him of a life that he once dreamed of that they could never have again. There was no more castle, no more walls to protect them, no more gardens and tiaras to bathe her in glory, and no more lost eyes and deluded fantasies that could never amount to the way he realized just how much she’d come to mean to him.

“Why didn’t you send her back?” his broken voice sounded foreign to him but it was a question that plagued him like nothing else.

“My mistake was trying to pull you two apart,” V’s voice responded from behind him, his tone just as weary and shameful, but Ray didn’t flinch when he admitted that. “If only I listened when she pleaded with me to ask for help... your suffering wouldn’t have gotten as far as it did. I cannot change the past, however, so the fact remains that we have to accept our actions and the consequences that are a part of them.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Neither of you can heal from this without the other. That might... be the selfish part of my choices thus far, but... speaking from experience, this pain that you’re suffering... it’s better suffered with someone by your side instead of all alone in a dark place where no relief can be found.”

“...”

“...”

“What do you know about this shame, anyway?” Ray asked. His voice was more cruel than he intended it to be, partially his own frustration mixed in with what he knew was Saeran’s contempt just lurking behind his mind’s eye. “Don’t act like a man like you knows what this feels like.”

V moved from behind him, but the smallest sound of something light hitting the table next to him was done with extra care as not to frighten Ray with what he’d discovered wasn’t safe for him—loud noises. The man he once considered to be interesting and admirable was still in there, Ray hoped, but it was hard to let go of everything that happened to him, both before Mint Eye and after it.

Ray drew in a breath as he took a spot on the porch step beneath him. What was he thinking, anyway?

V unpeeled the shirt from his back just enough so that Ray could see the marred skin from a fire that must’ve taken place in his childhood. The burns covered his upper back, all across his shoulder blades as if the fire had dug its tendrils into it without hesitation. Well, it explained why V always wore so many layers all year around ever since he met him.

“I lost my mother in a fire when I was a boy. She died. She did everything she could to protect me back then, even though I hadn’t been a good son to her in years, if ever. After she found me... slumped over from smoke inhalation, she tried to get me outside of our house... and she succeeded... getting me out of the house... she didn’t get out. These scars I carry... these burns... these are a reminder of her love for me despite my failure as a son.”

“I didn’t have anyone but Jumin back then... but after the accident, I couldn’t face him for weeks. He was the one who wanted me to mend things with my mother... the one pushing me to make things right. But, before I could... the fire happened. I pushed him away for a while. I suffered alone... feeling the fire and letting every part of my body suffer because I felt like I deserved to suffer for being the reason why my mother didn’t help herself.”

“I think... that’s where I went wrong in the end, Ray. My mother loved me more than herself and she wanted me to know that by doing everything she could to save my life. My being alive is... I think that’s her love for me. I don’t want you... to suffer alone, Ray. I don’t think Lila would want you to suffer through this alone, either. That’s why she was willing to die with you.”

As V let his shirt fall back down, Ray looked down at his lap. He didn’t know that V went through something like that. In fact, there was a lot about V that he didn’t know. He never wanted to know more after Rika whispered things into his head, but this? This was something that made sense in some ways, and confused him in others.

Ray couldn’t remember everything about the day that V found the two of them left in the crumbling mass of Mint Eye’s rubble, but... he couldn’t remember the anguish in his sobs and the sound of him begging V to save Lila, not him... not him... if he was to suffer in Hell, so be it. That’s what he felt. That’s what Saeran felt, too... even if his voice was so quiet today.

The guilt in V’s voice felt palpable. “If I can do anything to make things right... I’ll start with you two. I’ll make sure that you both always have each other to hold onto. This fire won’t be a tragedy. It’s painful and you’re still suffering today... but I won’t let either of you fall victim to what I suffered if it’s the last thing I do on this Earth.”

Ray didn’t know what to say.

Not that he imagined there was anything that could be said.

“I don’t deserve—”

“Son,” V’s voice was firm, not harsh, but it shut Ray up as soon as he said it. “I won’t let you become me. I won’t let you spend years suffering alone when you have people who love you and want the best for you. No matter what, I vow that no matter how far you stumble or fall, I’ll be here to pick you up and show you a world that exists beyond our self-loathing and fears.”

“I know you want to sit with Lila. Go on, she’s waiting for you for join her this afternoon. I promise you this, no matter what you’re feeling, she would want nothing more than for you to be by her side. She made her choice and I don’t think she regrets it.”

Ray could feel his body trembling from the influx of emotion. It was a lot... it was too much, in fact. How was he supposed to believe in those words? How was he supposed to believe in anything? He couldn’t believe people were willing to die... to save him, much less than it could be possible that people cared about him like that. Tears bubbled up in the corners of his eyes.

Beyond his wandering eyes, he could see Lila, her smile as plain as day as she beckoned him with a waving hand. She wasn’t angry with him nor was she lost in a sea of resentment. In her brown eyes was nothing more than what could be described as love.

Oh.

Oh.

He croaked, in a whisper, not a voice, “Thank you, Dad.”

#vae ray #v after ending #ray choi #choi ray #mystic messenger #mysme #mm #mysticmessenger #ray x lila #lila x ray #cmc #lila lancelot oc #drabble #mod kait #ray mm #ray mysme #ray mystic messenger #mystic messenger ray #mm ray #mysme ray

[thetragicallynerdy]

work in progress wednesday - three months post-rescue

“Hijo de puta –“

Jim’s snarled curse has Oluwande running the last few steps onto the deck, his heart suddenly racing. How did he miss an attack, did a ship sneak up to raid them, how –

He sees Jim and stops short. They are fighting. But it’s just Ivan, who’s caught them in a big bear hug as Jim tries to wiggle free. Pete and Lucius are watching, while Roach lounges nearby with Jim’s hat over his face, snoozing in the bright sun. Everything is calm. No one is freaking out.

With a victorious cry Jim elbows Ivan in the gut and wiggles free. They dance back out of reach, laughing at the way Ivan grabs for them.

“Wily little shit,” Ivan pants back, and if it weren’t for the massive grin on his face Oluwande might be worried.  “Your elbows are too fuckin’ pointy.”

“Verified weapons in their own right,” Lucius calls, scribbling something in his book. Or maybe sketching, from the way he keeps eyeing Roach. “Their knees are, too.”

Oluwande’s heart rate starts to slow. He rubs a hand against his chest, willing the tightness away, and stays just out of view.

“I’m coming for you next,” Jim threatens, never taking their eyes off Ivan. They’re settled in that loose, easy stance, and when Ivan lunges forward to swipe at them again they duck out of his way, batting his hand aside. And then it’s a flurry of quick blows between them – none hard enough to do damage. That had been Roach’s rule. ‘Hurt Jim after we just fixed them and I’ll hurt you’. Or something like that.

“Sure you are,” Lucius snorts. “I’ll just cry and you’ll stop. You’re a pushover now, Jimenez.”

Jim turns and starts towards him, voice rising in a curse. Ivan takes the opening, lunging in to wrap Jim in another hold before they can make it more than three steps. Lucius laughs, Jim curses, and the spar turns into a wrestling match.

Oluwande slips onto the deck when Jim’s back is to him, finding a seat beside Lucius and Pete. Somehow Jim is wrapped around Ivan’s neck now, clinging to his shoulders and threatening to cut his head off. There’s no knife in their hand. Ivan is threatening right back, something about a disembowelment.

“Oh, hey.” Lucius smiles at Oluwande as he settles, then goes back to his drawing. Sure enough, it’s Roach, long limbs stretched out and sun dappling on Jim’s hat that covers his face. There’s one of Pete too, mouth open as if arguing, and a few tiny, blurry ones of Jim and Ivan fighting. “Come to watch?”

Oluwande shrugs. “Sure.” When Lucius and Pete both give him a look he sighs, and lowers his voice so Jim won’t hear. “Heard Jim yell. Got worried.” He smiles as Ivan and Jim tumble to the ground. “They seem fine, though.”

Lucius eyes him. “They do. And you?”

He knows what Lucius is asking. It must be so bloody obvious how much he’s worried about them. He feels like a mother hen, sometimes, always hovering. But he’s trying. Neither of them are ready to retire. So they have to figure out a way to live with the risk that this life will always carry.

“Getting there.”

In the middle of the deck Jim and Ivan finally separate. They bump fists, then Ivan sprawls in a patch of shade and accepts the cup Fang hands him. Jim finally notices Oluwande. The way their face brightens sends warmth spreading through every part of him.

Jim wanders over and plops down beside him. Limbs loose, sweat shining on their cheeks and collarbone. They’re starting to gain back the weight that they lost.

“Hey,” they say, grinning and shaking sweaty hair out of their face. “Thought you were going over maps.”

Oluwande stretches out his feet and rests one against their calf, smiling back. “Finished a few minutes ago. Came to see the show.”

“Oh yeah?” Jim curls their hand around his ankle, two fingers and thumb warm against his skin. “Just in time to see Ivan lose?”

“It was a bloody tie!” Ivan protests from across the deck. “We both agreed!”

“Hey, that’s what you said hombre, I never agreed!”

Ivan makes a grumbling noise and gives Jim a rude gesture. “Rematch tomorrow?”

“Sí, sí. I’ll kick your ass, man.”

“Sure you will.”

Jim laughs and turns back to Oluwande. Their face turns sly. The grip on his ankle turns into a caress. “So if you’re done with the maps now… ¿Quieres ir a tener sexo?”

His heart beats a little faster in a good way, this time. Oluwande nods, a foolish grin spreading across his face. “Absolutamente.”

Jim clambers to their feet and holds out a hand for him. “Vamos entonces, guapo.”

“You know we understand enough Spanish now to know when you’re going off to fuck,” Lucius says drily. “You don’t have to hide it.”

Heat rises to Oluwande’s cheeks as he lets Jim pull him to his feet. They’re getting strong again. “Yeah, well, maybe we like to pretend that not everyone knows all of our business, okay?”

“Mhm, sure you do. Have nice sex,” he sing songs. Pete starts laughing beside him.

Jim rolls their eyes and pulls Oluwande towards their cabin. "Idiotas."

The door shuts behind them, and they turn and pull him into a kiss - and he forgets all about the worries of before.

(AN: this is part of a longer WIP that's a follow up to a ficlet in which Jim gets captured by the british and tortured a little. It's a lot of healing and h/c. And will hopefully be done soon!)

#jim jimenez #oluwande boodhari #tealoranges #jim x oluwande #ofmd fanfic #our flag means death fanfic #tragicallynerdy writes #work in progress wednesday #on an actual wednesday no less!!!

[little-svt]

GENDERNEUTRAL | FLUFF | BLANK LITTLE!SVT

Wc: 1.1k+

Taglist: @pastel-princess-please @kiki-woo @fishsquishh

What is Love?

Time couldn’t move fast enough. You knew the time that your boyfriend of eight months would be off work. Though the frequency of his updates shrank over the course of your relationship, both of you settling into a comfortable post-honeymoon phase, you could still imagine exactly where he was and what he might be doing as he finished work.

About now, he’d be in the elevator, finally leaving for the day. It felt as though it’d been hours since you’d sat on the sofa, ready for your Valentine's Day evening activities that you’d spent weeks planning just for the two of you. No, just for him, the light of your life.

And he felt the exact same way as he shifted his weight, checking his watch for the third time since he’d entered the elevator. The day could not go by fast enough. But it would be worth it. Soon, he’d see your smiling face again and find his way into your arms. There was no way he could thank you enough for how special you continued to make him feel, every single day, no matter how hard he tried. The romance, even through the rough patches and ‘boring’ day-to-day, never dipped, never disappeared.

The same stood true come Valentine's Day morning, he was gently coaxed awake by the increasing aroma of food with enough time to comfortably get ready for work.

“This is so cheesy…”, he giggled softly, almost unable to dig into the breakfast you’d worked so hard on for him.

“My love for you could never be too cheesy. I think it could use more cheese”, you grinned, reaching across the table to feed him a piece of fruit.

“I do like cheese.”, he chuckled, accepting the fate of the heart-shaped meal you’d laid out in front of him.

“Oh! I almost forgot-”, you hopped from your chair, fetching something from the counter and placing it behind your back, “- for you.”

Slowly, but not slowly enough for him to prepare his heart, you revealed a single pink hydrangea stem wrapped in white paper.

“It took me a while to choose. Each flower, each color having a different meaning…”, you stood there, thinking you had been with him far too long for something like this to make you nervous, yet your little explanation seemed to embarrass the hell out of you, “... I didn’t want to get a rose. Roses represent passion and romance-”

Immediately your eyes shot wide, feeling you’d said something stupid, but he only listened genuinely as you choked on your words.

“- not to say I don't feel love or passion. I passionately love you.”, your rambling made him giggle, giving you confidence enough to get back on topic, “I wanted something special. Pink Hydrangeas. For sincerity, love, and romance.”

“I like this one much better than roses.”, his lips were curved up just slightly at the corners but his eyes, almost glistened, glued to the flower as he took it in his hands, forgetting about breakfast completely.

Before you, he was never really on the receiving end, always the one to spoil his lover, not expecting or needing anything in return. But with you, from the beginning, it was a different story entirely. You helped him find a part of himself he never knew was there. The need to feel cared for, safe, loved, vulnerable, protected. This one flower seemed to blow his gifts for you out of the water.

“Baby… you didn’t have to get me something this expensive!”, you gushed, “This feels like pure gold compared to a measly little flower.”

“No! I like my flower.”, he smiled to himself, twirling it slowly in his hand before you took it to place in a small vase of water.

“Do you think we could press it instead?”, he asked, feeling the urge to avert his eyes, his question blushing his cheeks. He wanted to keep it forever.

“Of course.”, you smiled, “Why don’t we keep it in water for a few days, just to look at, and we can do it on your day off?”

Both of you sat down for breakfast again, teasing one another across the small table until it was inevitably time for him to get ready for work.

The work day seemed to pass by slowly yet in an instant as he thought about his flower, so lovely, waiting for him in it’s pretty glass vase at home with all it’s little blossoms. Just like you. He couldn’t wait to be back home with both.

Getting less work done than he’d like to admit, he could finally shut off his computer and head home for the evening, knowing you had a whole night planned for the two of you. How he was going to make it, seeing your smile and feeling your touch when he’d been teetering all damned day because of that flower was a hopeless question. But he’d do it for you.

“You smell good.”, he giggled as you fixed his hair in front of the mirror. Though he probably could have managed on his own, it was the perfect way to stay as close as possible while getting ready for the night.

“Thank you, baby.”, you smiled, lowering your hands to his chest and admiring your work. Your unwavering, admiring gaze warmed his cheeks and made him turn his head. Something you recognized immediately

“Ahh! Are you feeling shy, my little prince?”, you fluffed at his hair affectionately but not enough to ruin your handiwork.

“(Caregiver Nickname)~”, he whined, knowing what you were up to. He wouldn’t make it with your teasing, being exactly why you continued.

“It’s okay, honey. It’ll just be us tonight. And how could you ask me to resist when you’re acting so cute in front of me like this?”, you guided his face back to look at you, leaving a light kiss on his cheek, “Is this really all because of that flower? How will you ever make it through the night I’ve planned for us?”

Both of you knew the answer, simply, he wouldn’t.

“You’re still my big boy even if you let me care for you, handsome boy.”, you pressed your lips together in a line, your hands resting on both of his cheeks, feeling him give himself to you entirely.

With a nod between your palms, he nuzzled against your hand, letting you pamper him and finish readying him for your evening out. It was impossible to get used to, how deeply you’d care for him, no matter how time passed. He was always in the palm of your hand.

“I’m gonna show every couple out tonight exactly how much I love my handsome little prince.”

🧸Endnote: I may be projecting the babygirl line: Jeonghan, Hoshi, Wonwoo, Mingyu, Minghao ya know 🤭💗. I wanted to trying blank fics bc I don’t have time or energy to always do ot13 and I want to be able to make more people happy. Honestly I can say this may not fit every member since they do all have diverse personalities. But I tried to make it cute <3 HAPPY BDAY CARATS AND HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!! ~ 🐶🐰🍓

🧸Masterlist🧸

#Spotify #littlesvt 🐶🐰🍓 admin #sfw agere #svt imagines #svt fluff #agere community #svt agere #svt fic #valentines day fic #carat day #happy carat day #Jeonghan #seungcheol #Joshua #Junhui #Hoshi #Soonyoung #wonwoo #Mingyu #DK #dokyeom #the8 #Minghao #Vernon #seungkwan #Dino #Lee chan

[lilac-5ky]

Valentine's Day with Takasugi Headcanons

A/N: SHORT VERSION BECAUSE I AM SHORT ON TIME. Inspired by a recent conversation with @sugisyakult :3 Just like my previous post, I am very very veeeeeeeery low energy and had absolutely no time to put my thoughts in order, or proofread. Oopsie.

Warning: A BIT NSFW

He doesn't concern himself with the occasion at all. In fact, you probably are the one who has to convince him to spend it together, suggesting that those in love should celebrate, and if you don't then what does it make you? It's not that you doubt him, really, you just want to keep him landed a day longer, and him not wanting to make you sad with his absence decides to stay.

He might bring in some flowers, but that's as far as he'll go with gifts, and if asked, he will swear it's got nothing to do with this stupid holiday.

Just for that day, he lets you be in charge and sits through whatever activities you've planned; hopefully none that involves leaving the house to do something overly fancy and pretentious, such as dining in the company of idiotic couples who don't shy away from ridiculous public displays of affections.

Much to his luck, you've kept things simple and mundane; homemade dinner, sparsely lit candles, a romatic movie, and a special "ending" you have no intention of revealing until the night's through.

In exchange of the flowers, you hand him over his gift: a purple shaded teddy bear with an eye-patch on its left eye. He rolls his eye at the gesture, but graciously accepts the gift and devices a plan to sneak it into the Kiheitai ship without anyone noticing.

You dine together and he pays the food a compliment, not-so-subtly gawking at your outfit. You've gone all out, and for a second time, he finds himself glad you stayed inside, for he wouldn't know what to do with all the men that'd stare at you the he's staring right now.

After dinner's out of the way, you move to the living room for some quality cozy movie time. Doesn't matter how romantically lame the movie itself is, or how many times he cringes away. More than he could ever admit, he enjoys having his one arm wrapped around your shoulder and the other drifting down your thighs, the sweet smell of your shampoo clinging to his nose in the same way your cheek clings onto his chest.

By the time the movie's over and you suggest you take it to the bedroom, he's expecting his reward for not making a single negative commment over the movie's predictability. But when he notices the candles and the petals that adorn the floor, he has a hard time containing his chuckle.

"And I thought the cliches ended with the credits," he says as he picks a petal up and lets it drop to the ground. "What's next? An over the top romantic declaration, or you listing your ten reasons of hating me?"

You brush off his snarky remark, and instead bring out a bottle of massage oil, thus revealing your intentions- And who is he to deny you?

He strips down to his underwear and sits down in bed. You follow his lead and get behind him, spreading the oil down his back and shoulders, and then knead at his muscles. It doesn't take long for him to relax. Soon, his head's thrown back, and next thing you know your lips meet, the notion of massages and carefully planned surprises, disappearing underneath a pile of messily torn clothes.

You find yourself caged between his arms and legs, his hips slowly sinking down against your own. He stays close enough for your mouths to meet at each thrust, yet not so close as to miss the shadows of the candles flickering across his complexion.

And when you're both reaching the brink of your pleasures, his kiss turns into a light-weight kiss across your ear.

"Are you still doubting my affections? Even when I'm making love to you like this?"

Needless to say there was no need to question him again. Not on that day, and not on any other day.

#takasugi shinsuke #takasugi #gintama #gintama x reader #takasugi x reader #overworking myself today for no reason #im lonely #give me shinsuke already #im paying