#somewhat fluffy

[surplus-of-sarcasm]

Pt.2

Le Number 17

TW: Issues with parents ig?

Villain lets out a breath they didn't know they were holding as they pull into their driveway. They get out and fumble with their keys, fitting them into the lock as fast as humanely possible.

All they want to do is collapse on the couch, but they're currently covered in a disgusting mixture of blood, most of which is not their own and sweat. But more importantly, they don't live alone, and they can't risk being seen in costume, even if everyone's asleep right now.

Or they were supposed to be asleep.

Villain's mother is sitting on the couch and at the sound of them coming inside, she snaps her book shut.

As she walks forward and looks them all-over, her face slowly hardens into a picture of pure and unbridled fury. Villain's train of thought consists of nothing but an infinite amount of rather filthy expletives that they would probably be disowned for ever using. How did she recognise them, even with the domino mask on?

"So this is what you've been doing? This is where you've been getting your money from?" She gestures to their costume. And her tone is disappointed, repulsed even. No sign of concern at all. Villain doesn't understand why they feel a sharp pain in their chest because of it.

"Well, I uh, I was actually at this party, lost track of time, and sorta broke curfew. Costume party, won second place for accuracy," they lie through their teeth, nervously rubbing the back of their neck.

"Cut the crap! I've had doubts when I saw the news, and I've tried to convince myself it wasn't true. But of course, you never fail to impress me," she spits coldly.

They feel their cheeks burn, and their heart skips a million beats. But they keep their expression level as they rip off their mask. Which was ultimately a terrible decision, considering how exposed they currently felt. "Mum, I'm really tired, can I just go clean up and turn in for the night, and maybe we can discuss my alter ego in the morning? Or preferably not at all." They mutter that last part under their breath.

"Oh, you think it's that simple? To know that I've been raising one of this city's worst criminals. I thought you had a legitimate job!"

"And is legitimacy really important when we almost got kicked out of this place? We were going to sell the car, God, we didn't even know how we were going to eat." They try their hardest to keep their cool, but they can't help the fact that some irritation sneaks into their tone.

"You've always been such a goddamn disappointment, but this? It's just extreme."

Villain's breathing becomes quicker and shallower, and it feels like an invisible hand has a vice-like grip around their throat, slowly choking them. They've always been the 'yes ma'am' child, the one who never talks back, studying late into the night to get perfect grades, pushing themselves through sports practice and babysitting practically raising their younger siblings. But it was never enough, and finally their mother had managed to push them to their limits.

"So you know my little secret," they hiss, their voice becoming dangerously low, using the same tone that terrified some of this city's strongest heroes.

"And what are you going to do about it? Kick me out of the house that I pay the rent for? If you're so concerned about legality, maybe you should've tried finding a job. You know full-well that no 'legitimate' job a college student can get would pay for anything." They walk forward slowly, eyes narrow as slits and expression stone-cold.

She backs away from them slowly. "You-you're a monster!" she screams, slapping them hard on the cheek and storming out of the room.

The sting of the hot shower water on their fresh wounds doesn't hurt at all compared to the sharp ache in their heart. They've never been struck before, and sure, they're used to being their mother's dumping ground, till they were knee-deep in her crap. But the words they'd just heard felt worse than being shot. And they've actually experienced the pain to be able to boast such a comparison.

Wiping away furiously at their teary eyes, they dry themselves off, bandage their wounds and get dressed in their pajamas. They. Should. Not. Care.

As they step into their room, they find a figure perched on their window sill, reading one of their favourite books. Hero.

"Get out of my house," they snap, not bothering to ask how their nemesis got in, their exhaustion overpowering their survival instincts.

"Well that was rude," Hero muses, closing their book and smiling slightly. "But after what I've just heard, I can't really blame ya." They get off the window sill.

"Just go to he-"

"I know a thing or two about parents that are never satisfied, even if you bend over backwards for them." They let out a long-suffering sigh, and they suddenly age years in a matter of seconds. They're only a year or two older than Villain themselves though.

They sit down on the surprisingly soft carpet, resting their back against the wall and they motion for Villain to come over.

"What do you want?"

They gesture to their lap, and even when they cock a confused eyebrow, they're still adamant about it.

So, that's how they find themselves lying on their enemy's lap, with Hero's fingers in their hair, nails gently scratching their scalp. They follow up with working away the knots in Villain's sore neck and shoulders, the criminal relaxing completely under their touch.

Not much later, they pick up their sleeping nemesis's form and tuck them into bed. They feel their heart flutter at the sight of how peaceful they look.

If only someone had been there to give them the same treatment when they'd needed it most.

#prompt #hero x villain #somewhat fluffy #but not w/o some angst of course #a little long #female writers #writers on tumblr

[shripscapi]

#jon snow #asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #my art #one thing abt me is I will always draw a fluffy coat ☝️ #this is meant to SOMEWHAT match arya and sansa. not exactly. the style is diff bc it’s been a while #I stil quite like that one though so I tried to do something similar w jon’s sword

[spotlightstudios]

Hehehe~

Just uhh, took a lil bit to do sum brainrot doodles for @naffeclipse 's rabbit y/n fox s/m au! (I don't think I captured it quite right, but I really wanted to doodle a silly Sun fox then went from there♡)

#light's spot #my art #sketch #I liked the idea of them maintaining their “mask” faces somewhat #and I think they'd just... take them off.. or smth? #idk the logic #fluffy sun was just what I wanted to draw #and of course I adored the mini-fic so uhhhh #totally hasn't been spinning around in my head since I read it hehe #naff's writing knocks me out every single time istg

[thatdesklamp]

January, 2011

intrinsic warmth, gojo pov. Tonally very similar to the end of 2012, Chapter 17, with similar content warnings (angst)

Satoru stares up at the ceiling.

It’s a good ceiling. It’s high, and tall, so tall that he can stretch his arms up and not even brush his fingertips on it. His old home always had high ceilings, which he thinks was a show of wealth back when it was built. His old room in high school had very low ceilings, which he understood, with the knowledge that it was made for people half a foot shorter than him. Satoru would complain about it with Suguru who, when they were still teenagers together, was the same height as him.

No. Satoru blinks at the ceiling. Suguru was taller. He was taller by exactly 0.28cm in their first year, and 0.19 in their second, and Satoru cannot remember the number from their third year.

The woman shifts in her sleep, and Satoru’s gaze is drawn from the ceiling. She is naked, but has the bedsheets bundled up to her collarbone. They drape in a way that is accidentally attractive; the white linen catches on the side of her breast, highlighting the curve, luxurious in the way that asks to be touched. Satoru does not. He doesn’t want to, for how much he touched last night.

The ceiling. This ceiling is taller than his room back in school. The woman, whose name he cannot remember, had commented on it; she had been awed, last night, at how large the rooms in his apartment were, and how expensive his furniture looked, and how high his ceiling was. She had walked around, her fingertips brushing against the back of his white couch, her eyes wide as she looked upwards and not at him. Satoru had not wanted her to wait around, or to make herself home here.

He had stepped forward. He had taken her hand from his furniture and moved it above her head, had backed her against a wall and kissed her, hard, until her breathing was frantic and her body was writhing and until she was gasping out his name.

Satoru, he had told her, in the bar, when she had asked for it. She had told him hers—Satoru can’t remember, damn, that’s not good—and he thinks that it was her first name, too, because he had told her his.

Satoru, she had moaned out, when he was fucking her. He had her on her back, her thighs wrapped tight around his hips, bracing his weight on one forearm by her head and teasing her clit with his hand between their bodies.

He had been mean, last night, making her beg for it, for his fingers and his dick and the permission to come. He had fucked her ruthlessly, until she couldn’t say his name anymore, and could only make weak gasping noises as she shuddered through another orgasm. He had left dark bruises on her neck, from his tongue and his teeth, and she had bared her throat for him like an animal trying to submit.

But in the taxi back from the bar, she had told him that she liked it, and that she always wanted guys to edge her and call her a slut and be rough, and she had giggled drunkenly and clicked on a porn video that showed him what she meant.

Satoru had paid attention, and he had become the man in the video, and afterwards, when he had kissed her and moved his hands to her waist and murmured comforting words in her ear, she had told him that she had never felt like that before, and that she had felt good, so good, and that she wanted to do this again sometime.

Satoru had been drunk too. He was probably more drunk than she was, even though he’d barely drank anything. He’s always been a lightweight; he can hide it now, but it was embarrassing when he was in school and experimenting with alcohol with Suguru and Shoko.

Satoru doesn’t like drinking. He doesn’t like the feeling of it, the fuzziness and zeroed-in vision and the waning voice in the back of his head telling him he’s doing something wrong. Satoru drinks because it’s easier to pretend with women when he’s drunk, because words fall differently and disgust falls away.

Mostly. Satoru is still drunk, even now he’s woken up. That’s another thing with alcohol: it disturbs his sleep, making it fitful instead of peaceful and deep. You would tell him—and Satoru feels the pain like a knife in his chest, searing and agonising and serrated, at the thought of you. The guilt is visceral, and he flinches away from it, instinctual, pathetic. There is the wrong woman in his bed.

He looks back at her. There are the hickeys, which seem teenage and shameful now, now he has thought of you. There is the white linen, which he wants to draw up further, until it is her face that it covers, not just her naked body. He wants to hide her from his view, and pretend she is not here, and he sees the bare skin of her hands that hold the blanket to her chest, and he knows that she is not you.

She had wanted him to call her a slut. Satoru had done it, because he had known it would put him even deeper, and because it had made her eyes roll back and her chest shake with pleasure. His stomach had twisted, revolted at the sight of it, of the words that were coming from his own mouth. He had said it, and he had fucked her, and he has done it all before so many times and he cannot remember her name.

Satoru can remember almost everything. It’s the worst thing about his Six Eyes, and the best. Satoru remembers details, details, details. The dust particles catching light in the air, the day he learnt Suguru had massacred a village of innocent people. The width of the lock of hair that fell against Suguru’s temple, the strand he never cared enough to tie back. The words of hatred you had said to him, verbatim, exact, when you told him you did not want to see him again, ever, and that he had made you cry just like your father always had. The shine of moonlight in your wide pupils, the night on the rooftop.

It is almost everything, not everything, that he remembers. Because Satoru forgets. He thinks, sometimes, that the things he forgets are more painful than the things he remembers.

How did Suguru say his name? His first name, the name you say so rarely. Satoru remembers it, and he does not. The memory has become distorted with age, has gone grey and lifeless, and Satoru cannot remember that which used to be so familiar to him.

How many times have you told him you love him? It’s not enough that he could forget; Satoru hasn’t become neglectful in their abundance, because you will not allow them to become abundant, and so has tried to capture each one in his memory. He didn’t know that he could forget things, when he was seventeen, still reeling from Suguru, still so raw from his betrayal. But, months later, Satoru had realised that he could not remember how much taller Suguru had been than him when they had last checked at the beginning of the year, and he had realised that despite his Six Eyes, Satoru Gojo was not infallible or omniscient, and that he had to try to remember the things he could not allow himself to forget.

How many times? The first, when he was seventeen, of course. Moments, later; sometimes, when he says it, you will say it back, and his heart will fill with love so much that it hurts him. Of course, sometimes you will not say it back, and will send him an exasperated look, like you think he is playing a game. This hurts more, but he will not let you realise it.

His eyes are growing tired. There is more than just the ceiling, in his vision; there always is. There is his cursed energy, both opaque and completely transparent, curling and undulating like a living being, or like fog, with tendrils like a scorpion’s tail. It surrounds him, and surrounds everyone he looks at, enveloping and encasing them and entrapping them without him being able to hold it back.

This is not his technique, which Satoru can control. This is his raw energy, powerful beyond belief, powerful enough that Satoru cannot bear to look at the ceiling anymore. His vision is clear and overwhelming, both simultaneously, and he cannot focus on one thing like normal when there is a sea of nothingness, of expensive modern lights that came with the bedroom and white plaster and nothingness, nothingness, and Satoru sees everything. His eyes sting, painfully dry.

He closes his fist around the blindfold he keeps on his bedside table, and places the material against his eyes. The room darkens, and twists, and Satoru can see again. This was the blindfold she had laughed at, before he had gotten her to cry.

The wrongness returns; that guilt, the disgust, that he feels whenever he thinks about the woman. Or the women: Satoru cannot pretend she is the first, or that she will be the last. Satoru cannot have you.

Satoru fucks the way they want him to fuck, and he will call them a slut if they want him to, and he will be the best sex they’ve had in years if he can get them to say something good, tell him something he cannot hear anywhere else. That was so good, this woman had said to him, and Satoru had lapped at it like a savage cat to curdled milk. Their words are empty and shallow, and yours are rich with time and knowledge and love. But Satoru will scavenge for what he can, now, carnivorous and desperate and empty.

The woman had laughed at the blindfold, when she had craned her neck to look around his room, and asked him whether he was going to use it on her. Satoru had shaken his head and kissed her, distracting her, and he had swallowed down the surge of loathing at the repugnant idea that he ever would.

Satoru remembers you putting on his glasses at the beach, and the innocence of it all, the way his stomach had flipped at the sight of it. And you, running your fingers over his blindfold when he had discarded it after a day at work, when you had brought it up to your eyes and told him that it was cool, really, how he could see through it like normal when to you it was just really dark.

His day had been pitiful, up until then, and he had been so tired, even if it was making him feel better to pretend that he wasn’t. But you had held up the very thing that kept him sane, and had made as if you would put it on, and Satoru had only had to watch you to feel better.

That’s all it takes, these days. Satoru only has to see you, and it’s better. You have his heart between your gloved fingers, and yet you do not squeeze it tightly enough for it to beat.  

#intrinsic warmth #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo angst #i couldn't stay in the fluffy mood forever folks #written in one sitting because it's raining and i'm feeling contemplative and somewhat sombre #enjoy

[dealwithadeer]

Short fic: Never leave you

"I am sorry, Husker. I do not think I have really heard you right."

Ever since Alastor came back after licking th wounds he got from his fight with Adam, Husk had the questionable luck of regaining the popularity he had hoped to have lost with his Boss. Apparently losing not only control but face as well in front of the Pride Ring really reminded Alastor how much he used to love having someone who may complain about it but was unable to say 'no' to anything Alastor wanted.

In contrast to their relationship before Alastors years of absence there was however that Husks company was not only wanted by Alastor and Nifty but that now there were other people (Angel, Cherri Bomb, Lucifer and even Vaggie) who appreciated talking, joking and partying with the cat demon. Bonds with people other than Alastor and Nifty, that were forged before, during and shortly after the battle.

And Alastor, who was in desperate need to have something or someone who belonged solely to him since he did not even own himself and his self-control was ever so subtly falling apart, did not appreciate the thought of having to share the one soul that was truelly his.

Alastor appreciated it even less that Charlie and others were talking to Husk about the possibility of redemption and considering Alastor was feverishly trying to get out of his own contract he had the paranoia that his Husker must be doing the same.

"I.. I will not leave you."

"That's very good to hear, Husker. However, I am still missing a small little addition to that sentence."

"I will .. never leave you."

They had played similar 'games' before. Other times, it was 'I am yours', 'I belong to you.' 'I do as you say' and so on. For someone who owned his soul in a quite literal soul bond Alastor sometimes seemed quite insecure in the power he held once one was able to look past the smile.

"And why is that, mon chaton`?"

"Because you will never let me go, you damn .."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Wrong answer again, Husker. "

"Because .. I don't want to leave. "

It was a lie.

But it was a lie that Alastor liked to hear.

#I am sorry but I cannot bring myself to actually write torture #so have the dialogue and make it as dark or even somewhat fluffy #in your head as you like #radiohusk

[nohoney]

I have an idea, can we get siren (merman) Hawks and can it be smut/fluffy...please

-👁

i’ve never been one to be able to write about any fantasy creatures whatsoever but this was actually kind of fun (๑˃ᴗ˂)

warnings: oral sex (receiving), fingering (receiving), some dirty talk (imagined by the reader), a little bittersweet at the end sorry

The air is warm, sunlight peeks through the breaks of the trees, and you walk further down the path to the lake that you’ve been visiting since the beginning of spring last year. A picnic basket is carried by your side, it’s contents slightly rattling as you walk the paved dirt path. The straps of your dress fall down your shoulder every once in a while and you think that once you stop to rest that you should tighten the bows a little bit so that you’re not always adjusting them.

You break into a little jog once you see the end of the path despite your flip flops not being meant for more than a leisurely walk.

A small pond with a little waterfall is your destination. There’s a wooden dock that you can tell has been standing strong and shows no sign of giving way anytime soon. Perhaps in another fifty years it will start to show some wear but right now, it’s sturdy.

You sit at the very end of the dock, making sure to take your flip flops off first and setting your basket aside next to you. The water level has risen; you know this because last year the water only reached your ankle when you dipped your feet in and this year, the water is up last your calves. There was a lot of rain and while you’re grateful for it, you also don’t want it to submerge the dock either.

Kicking your feet in the water, it creates ripples and disturbs the water lilies nearby.

A head of blond hair pops out from the surface of the water, yellow eyes trained on you swimming beneath the surface to approach. “There you are,” you greet to your friend, “I brought a picnic for us today.”

The head disappears beneath the surface, leaving you alone for a few seconds, the splash of water and wet hands grip onto your calves. When you look down, you see the handsome face of man but beneath the surface of the water, he’s mythical.

Last year, you discovered him.

You moved to town two years ago in the winter and hadn’t made any friends yet. Loneliness settled heavily on you as you struggled to connect with the folks of this town but it’s hard to break into the inner circles of a place where the population is only used to knowing each other. In trying to make conversation with the townsfolk, you heard a lot of talk of avoiding the lake in the middle of the forest. That apparently some parents tried to drown their child in the lake and it came back as a ghastly creature to haunt the water and the surrounding shores of it as well.

You took their little fairytale as a bunch of hooey and decided to walk to that lake.

When you walked the path, it was no different than any trail you had been to before. However coming closer to the break in the trees, you saw a dock and someone swimming in the water. There was some wariness from you when you saw it was a man. Only his head popped up from the water and he seemed very focused on something in the tree branches that reached over the water.

You peered quietly at first, following his line of vision to see a hawk just perched on a tree branch.

When you called out, it startled both the bird and the young man. The hawk took flight and the man in the water was frightened by your presence. He was quick to look back at you before going into the water. You ran to the dock, shouting that you were friendly and your eyes were searching for air bubbles to find him. Your immediate action was to jump in after him.

It was the day you discovered that mermaids… or rather a merman was real.

He had a beautiful tail of red scales that shimmered underneath the sunlight and he seemed to have a liking for the hawk that circled the lake.

So you named him Hawks.

Unusual name for a sea creature but he responded to it once he had gotten used to your presence.

“Here, I brought you an egg today. Hard boiled this time.” You offered to Hawks, already having peeled the shell off. Last time you tried to give him soft boiled but he hated it. He looks reluctantly at it and shakes his head, a gesture that you had taught him since you found he had very little communication. “Oh don’t worry, it’s not runny like last time.”

To prove it, you bite into the top half of the bed. The yolk is firm and a little dry as you chew, but it’s for your friend and not yourself.

Hawks is still reluctant.

“If you don’t want it, that’s okay. But it just means that you won’t get your favorite,” you sing the last word and watch how he perks up, “chicken.”

Hawks grunts and pats his hand at your knee, almost as if he were a child. His hand reaches towards you, eager at the mention of his favorite food. You place the half eaten egg in his palm before pushing his hand back to him. You giggle when he pouts at the egg and looks back up at you; you can tell he feels a little betrayed.

“Just try it, okay? You know how to show me if you don’t like something right?”

You taught him small ways to communicate, often with simple hand gestures. If he doesn’t like something, he’s supposed to cover his mouth with his hand. If he does, he taps his lips twice and then points to what he likes.

Again, like a child, he takes the egg and chews with puffed up cheeks. As you wait for his evaluation, you reach for the plastic container inside the picnic basket but you don’t quite bring it out just yet. He needs to properly tell you whether he likes something or not.

Hawks seems to mull it over before putting his hand over his mouth.

“Okay, I won’t bring you eggs anymore then.” You say with a little confirming nod. The container from the picnic basket is brought out and Hawks bounces in the water in excitement. The little, excited grunts he makes make you shake your head with a smile. You hand him a hearty piece of cooked chicken and it’s practically snatched from you.

Nothing that you haven’t been used to for a good while now.

You give him pieces of chicken with one hand and feed yourself with a sandwich the the other. The sun is warm on your skin, the water is cool, and Hawks is nuzzling your shins as you finish feeding yourself once all the chicken was gone.

Slowly you start to pack up everything inside your picnic basket. You wished that you didn’t have to go, truthfully you hated leaving him by himself, but you still had a life to attend to. Plus also needing to cook his favorite foods as well. “Okay Hawks, I’ll try to see if I can stop by in a few days?”

You start to lift your legs out the water but Hawks hugs your legs to keep you in place.

When he does that, you know it’s because he’s feeling a little lonely.

“I’m sorry Hawks, I know you’re sad that I have to go. I’ll try to come the soonest I can, okay?” You apologize to him, reaching down cup his cheek. He leans into your palm, affectionately humming but whines sadly when you retreat your hand back. He taps his lips twice and points to you. “I like you too Hawks.”

Slowly, he parts your legs and pushes the skirt of your dress up. Again he taps his lips twice and points to in between your legs, this time sticking his tongue out.

“Oh… I don’t know about today.”

Aside from keeping his actual presence a secret, this of course stays strictly between the two of you. Not that Hawks had the capability of saying anything or anyone knew of his presence. Sometimes you laid in bed at night thinking about him, reminiscing how curious he is about your body and how you let him explore his curiosity.

Hawks repeats his action, his brows furrowing and insisting with a pout that is working its magic on you.

He ends up getting what he wants when he presses a kiss to your knee, looking at you through his eyelashes and humming.

“… Okay.”

You discard your dress and fold it neatly before setting it aside. Hawks has a smile on his face that you pretend to not see as you slip your underwear off your body. Your calves are used to the temperature of the water but you still let out a little squeal as you join him in the water.

Hawks swims up to you and shows how happy he is by giving you a hug, affectionately nuzzling your cheek. Even though you hadn’t necessarily planned to have this type of visit with him, a part of you is flattered that he has these kinds of feelings for you and wants to act on them.

He pulls back, only to give you a quick kiss on the lips, smiling at you before sinking beneath the water’s surface. His lips kiss at your tummy before sinking lower, his hands carefully holding your hips and pats your butt as a signal.

I’m going to start now.

You gasp when he shyly licks at you as just a little tease, focusing on the view ahead of you and at a water lily floating on the water. “Oh…” you whisper quietly as closes his mouth over your cunt, licking away at you with the same eagerness he was displaying before. “H-Hawks… oh fuck.”

If only there was some way for you to be able to breathe underwater with him. To see his face and what kind of expressions as he eats you out. He’s beautiful so you know that if you were to see him look up at you as he ate you out, he’d set the butterflies in your tummy fluttering.

When you first let him explore his curiosity, he was just as shy as you were. You could tell by his touches and he could tell by the way you’d jerk whenever you were unprepared to receive his touch. But at this point of your bond, the two of you were definitely used to each other.

Not to say that he didn’t make you flustered sometimes.

Hawks seemed to be able to express himself just fine without words and without difficulty. Something in his nature or perhaps you happened to sync well with him, the two of you were able to understand one another clearly. How was it the best communication you had in a relationship, it was with someone that couldn’t speak any discernible words at all?

“Oh god!” You gasp again before you let out a small moan. Hawks licks you enthusiastically, carefully pushing a finger into your pussy, something that he learned after observing you in the early stages of the two of you showing interest in one another. You remembered how you shyly opened your legs while sitting at the dock one day and confessing to him that you dreamt of him. You remember his curious eyes watching your fingers dip into your dripping cunt and just how fascinated he became.

Your head falls back and you dip one hand beneath the water to grasp at Hawks’ hair. You bite your bottom lip to try to keep your noises in even though you were more than sure that no one else except him would hear you.

Sometimes you wonder what he’d sound like if he was able to speak. You imagine his voice would be smooth, pleasing to your ears and that he could make you laugh. In your selfish little mind, he says all the right things that make your heart race.

You’re a good girl, my wonderful girl…

The tip of his tongue prods against your clit and you let out an audible moan into the air.

The way you sound is so sexy, I fucking love it!

Your hips rock into his mouth, almost like you’re riding his face. His hands are secure on holding your waist to help keep you afloat. Sparks of pleasure go up and down your body, your thighs slightly shaky as your orgasm starts build higher.

Sweet, precious thing… I adore you.

Your hand clenches into a fist and grabs a fistful of Hawks’ hair while your mouth drops into a silent ‘oh’. Your eyes flutter as you experience your high, still caught off guard over how well Hawks has learned how to make you cum. He was intelligent enough to discern that you were experiencing pleasure, smart enough to see if you were sad over something, and he always seemed to be looking into you just as you were looking into him.

He always looked like he was in wonder whenever he stared at you too long.

Hawks comes up from the water and you loop your arms around him in a hug, pressing a kiss to his cheek and just hanging onto him like a sloth. You were wanting to catch your breath. He doesn’t seem to be done with you just yet, sliding his hand between your bodies and pushes two fingers into your pussy. “Oh… you’re not done?” You ask but have difficulty keeping conversation when you’re still sensitive from an orgasm and he keeps curling his fingers into you.

Your body shudders as you let him finger you, a part of you wondering if he liked the feel of his fingers inside your warm cunt. More than a few times he’d point to in between your legs and hold up his middle and index finger up as a signal and pointing at himself. Eventually you had learned that it was his way of saying that he wanted to finger you.

“H-Hawks… are you done? I have to go back soon.” You whimper as he continues to tease his fingers against that spongy spot that makes you see heaven. Your cunt squeezes around his fingers and a big part of you wishes that he had a cock so that you could know what it was like to fuck him.

You could see him being a little whiny as he cums in you, lying back to let you take control as you ride him. You’d milk him dry and make a creamy mess on his dick, wanting to make him just as over sensitive in the same way he does it to you.

You wished that you could fuck Hawks.

Cumming a second time by his fingers, you pat at his shoulder and he retreats from you. This time, he returns your hug and holds you close. Your legs cross around his waist and you stay for a small moment just holding one another.

A kiss is pressed to your forehead.

I miss you already.

In return, you do the same to him.

I always miss you.

You wished that he could come with you.

You try hard to not look at him as you begin to get ready to leave because of the sad look in his eye. There are days that he seems to be okay as you head home, but others he makes it very known when he’s sad. And you know that the more time you spend together, each goodbye will get harder and more forlorn.

“Okay Hawks, I’m going to go now. I’ll try to visit soon.”

He nods his head, watching from the water as you take your picnic basket and the straps of your dress fall off your shoulder. You walk ahead and make sure to keep looking forward, eventually hearing when he dives under the water and you can let out the sad sigh you were holding in.

“I’ll visit you again soon.”

#i hope you liked 👁️ nonny! #my inspiration was somewhat drawn from the film ‘the shape of water’ #i wanted to keep it a little simple for this lil piece and i’m quite happy with it! #sorry for the lil bit of sad at the end i couldn’t come up with a fluffy ending (￣▽￣*)ゞ #hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #hawks smut #k.inbox

[eudico-my-beloved]

이번에는, 떠나지마라..

just outis and a version where i gave up half way through experimenting with effects (i forgor how to use shit) under the cut

#finally got the fox outis ego!!!!!!! #yippee! #also the very first one out of my deck to get hit by her was ish and i thought it was somewhat funny #made me giggle and it made my mouth hurt a little more #but it did remind me to take the prescribed stuff so. win ig? #also one of my fav lines so far is the one she says when she. #uhhhhh i dont know the word in english but im too tired to search it up. oops #but yeah #i like her a normal amount #she looks fluffy i wanna poke her #limbus company #outis lcb #ishmael lcb #<- its just her back tho. but i think that counts

[giggly-squiggily]

The Elephant In The Room (Blue Lock)

Heyo! You know who's been on my mind alot lately? Reo. I don't write enough of him- and given what went down in this past season I figured he'd need some good ol tickles so that's what I did :D This got a fair bit angsty at times but like- Second Selection Reo is angsty. It kinda fits. I hope you like it!

Cloud 9 (Taglist)

@myreygn @cupcake-spice13

CW: Swearing, Angst, Blue Lock Spoilers (Second Selection)

Summary: It's about time they addressed the whole "Nagi situation". Reo's resistant and Kunigami's worried. Interestingly enough it's Chigiri who finds an effective solution.

“You don’t smile a lot, do you?”

Reo’s already existing scowl deepened, violet eyes glaring daggers into crimson as he curled up further in his bed. “What’s it to you, anyway? Not like you care whether I smile or not.”

“Ooo, moody.” Chigiri leaned into his hands, unfazed. It wasn’t the first night they were all staying together, but it was the first time any of them addressed the elephant in the room. “And here I thought I was bad.”

“You are.” Kunigami pointed out with a small grin, earning an eye roll and a less than kind gesture sent his way. “Really though- I don’t think you’re the person to really point that out, Princess. If I recall correctly, you barely smiled once when the team was first coming together.”

“Had a lot going on.” Chigiri shrugged, though his voice softened when addressing the hero. Turning back to Reo, he tried again. “Kay so- are we just gonna pretend the Nagi thing didn’t happen.”

“Yes.” Reo began just as Kunigami said. “Nope.”

Now he was glaring at the ginger, extra irritated. “Drop it will you? It’s got nothing to do with either of you.”

“Sure, but you’re our teammate. Not to mention our roommate. Can’t deny it gets a little tense when you’re glowering over there.” Kunigami shrugged, trying for a smile. “Besides- we’re in the same boat with Isagi-”

“It’s not the same.” Reo cut off, voice sharp. Chigiri raised brows as they shared a look.

“Okay- my bad. Just trying to feel it out.” Kunigami held up a hand in apology, not sure whether to push or let it be. Ideally if they were to make it to the end, they’d have to start getting along. They were fine on the field, but this uncomfortable eggshell dynamic was starting to wear on him. Maybe it was the altruist in him, but he wanted to show Reo that they were there for him.

“Lover’s quarrel?” Chigiri on the other hand seemed to want to antagonize the other. He flopped forward on the lower bunk and tucked his chin against his arms, feet kicking behind him like he was a girl at a slumber party. “That explains a lot- were you two dating before Blue Lock or…?”

“Chigiri..” Kunigami began, but he was cut off when Reo sat up, eyes scary.

“Drop it. Now.” He growled.

“Or what?” Chigiri asked back, boldy hopping out of his bed and flopping into Reo’s. “You’re gonna sulk more?” He reached out, poking Reo’s side. “You know- whenever the hero over there and I fight, it’s super dramatic. Lots of yelling and drama- one time I set his sweatpants on fire.”

“When’d you do that?” Kunigami blinked. Reo’s mouth was twitching, though the ginger suspected it was more from the relentless pokes Chigiri was giving in directly into his side.

“He forgot already. Don’t you know that’s what we fight about the most?” Chigiri kept poking, starting to grin when Reo’s lips wobbled, leaning away from the touch. “He’s got the memory of a goldfish. I bet you he’d already forgotten our anniversary.”

“I don’t ca-are! Ugh, go aw-way!” Reo leaned further from the pokes. Interestingly enough, he wasn’t climbing off the bed. Kunigami started to smile too.

“Oi, you said you loved my goldfish memory.” He got up and kneeled beside the bed, poking Reo’s other side. “You said I was the nicest fish you’ve ever won at the fair. Crazy one, this guy. He kissed me, and boom! I turned into a human! It was like a budget version of the Princess and the Frog.”

“Oi, who are you calling the budget version?” Chigiri raised a brow, still poking Reo. “I like to think I’m rather expensive.”

“Yep, a whole 2000 yen worth.”

“Motherfu-”

“Gohohohd, you two are annohohoohying!” Reo blurted out, unable to keep the giggles out of his throat. He doubled over, trying to block out the hands poking and prodding his sides and waist. At some point Chigiri shifted from pokes to grabbing, squeezing his side with gentle pressure while Kunigami increased the amount of fingers poking his ribs. “Goohohoohoho awhahahhay, I waahhahahant to brhohoohohhoohohod!”

“Nah, you’ve been brooding enough. We’re running out of toothbrushes.” Chigiri pointed out, bringing another hand in so he could squeeze Reo’s hip. That got a reaction- the purple haired striker doubled over with a cackle, rich sounding laughter exploding from his lips. “It’s bad enough you destroyed your own, but you even snapped mine in half! I had to get a new one from Ego-sensei!”

“Yeah- plus we don’t like seeing you so down.” Kunigami bailed on tickling his ribs to grab his other hip, squeezing and massaging it like Chigiri and increasing Reo’s laughing fits. “We want to help, Reo! Or at the very least- we want to be there for you. Talk to us!”

“GHEHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHA!” The purple haired teen let out a loud squeal, slapping at their hands as he squirmed, torn between guarding and elbowing them. His face was flushed red, and his eyes were squeezed shut with mirth- tears brimming the corners as he wheezed. “FIHHIHIHINE FIHIHIHIIHNE I’LL TAHAHAHHALK! NOW STAHAHHAHAHAHAP!”

“Hmm..should we, hero?” Chigiri asked, raising a brow at Kunigami. The ginger looked between him and Reo, considering.

“Yeah, let’s let him breathe, princess.” They released him, watching Reo fall back as he gasped for air. His bangs fell in his eyes, hiding them as he sucked in heavy breaths, legs twitching from remaining sensation. Chigiri hummed happily as he got comfortable, stealing Reo’s pillow and tucking it under his chin. Kunigami readjusted so he was sitting on his knees, arms folded against the bed as they waited for Reo to talk.

“Fihihirst….fuuhck you.” He grumped, earning a snort from Chigiri and a grin from Kunigami. Reo pushed his hair away, voice tired. “You two suck.” When they didn’t respond, he crossed his arms over his chest, closing his eyes. For a moment, it seemed like he was falling asleep.

“It’s not the same. You two- you found each other and that was that. Sure, you might be mad at Isagi for going on ahead, but at least you have one another.” Reo sounded so sad that moment, knuckles whitening as he shook with- what, tears? Anger? “You didn’t have to watch the person you care about abandon you after everything you’ve done for them. Nagi just- he didn’t even hesitate! He left me to join up with them and didn’t look back at all. It was like I didn’t exist…” He blinked rapidly, shaking his head so he wouldn’t cry. “Call it what you want- lover’s quarrel, my pet abandoning me, me being dramatic- I don’t care! It just really fucking hurt what he did.” A tear escaped. He refused to let the rest fall. “It really, really fucking hurts.”

The pair were quiet, letting Reo’s words fall over them as he struggled to wipe away the tears in his eyes. After a moment, Chigiri poked his arm, voice soft.

“Hey…sorry. About the pet comment.” He sounded like he meant it. “And about Nagi.”

“Don’t- I don’t care about him.” A lie and they all knew it.

“It’s okay to care. I’d be hurt too if Princess did that to me and vice versa.” Kunigami reached out, taking one of Reo’s hands, squeezing gently. “You don’t have to pretend you don’t care about him.”

“I d-don’t-” Reo sniffed, but he didn’t pull his hand away.

“Good. In that case let’s run him over.” Chigiri decided. That shocked a laugh out of Reo, startling him out of his tears.

“Where the hell are you gonna get a car? And besides- you can’t drive.” Kunigami blinked, shaking his head with a grin.

“Neither do half the people in the K-drama’s my sister watches but they still find a way.” Chigiri shrugged, giggling when Reo let out a snort, covering his face. “Fine- we’ll hit him with a shopping cart. Or maybe with a shoe. Covered in-”

“Ew stop!” Reo shoved Chigiri over, nearly sending him off the bed. He was smiling though- the first real one they’ve seen since they teamed up. “Ugh, you’re awful!”

“You knew that already.” Chigiri smiled cherublike, making Reo laugh more as he shoved his discarded pillow at him.

“I’ll take care of Nagi. It’s…fine.” Reo sighed, though this time it lacked its usual heaviness. “I’ll kick his ass in our next match against him, and that will be it. But erm…” He averted his gaze, neck reddening. “Thanks for eh…helping I guess.”

“Of course.” Kunigami nodded, standing up. “That’s what hero’s do.”

“And Princesses I suppose. Gotta help the little folk out every one and a while.” Chigiri rolled off the bed, making his way towards the bottom bunk across the way before face planting into it. “Man, I’m tired. Wake me up when the next match begins.”

Kunigami snorted as he pulled the discarded blanket over Chigiri, climbing up and into his own bed. Reo wiggled into his own just as the lights went out- bedtime across the entire stadium. His heart still hurt- a pain he knew wouldn’t go away until he and Nagi had words, but it didn’t hurt as bad now. He didn’t feel so…bottled up.

Maybe opening up to people wasn’t so bad. With people like Kunigami and Chigiri- he could see himself doing it more.

Thanks for reading!

#blue lock #reo mikage #chigiri hyoma #kunigami rensuke #tickle #tickle fic #hurt/comfort #angst with a somewhat happy ending #angst #tw: swearing #Reo needs some fluffy cheer up tickles y'all #He's been through it #Kunigiri #blue lock spoilers #blue lock anime spoilers #blue lock manga spoilers

[happyk44]

Thinking abt Percy and Nico fooling around in Percy's car

#somewhat in a dubcon sense but also further down the hmm line 👀 but also fluffy if thats your thing 🤷‍♂️ lmao #percico #happy talks pjo

[blobbei-art]

This is an older character concept that’s not quite finished but I also haven’t had the motivation to continue working on it yet so I might as well upload it instead of letting it sit bc god knows when I’ll come back to this haha

It’s supposed to be a very light moon themed body mixed with heart (the horns looking like veins/aorta) and capillary + lace for the wings

Either way this is Marzie! Her whole story is a little complicated and still not set in stone but the idea is that she’s the original Goddess of Life and Kasifer’s twin sister who seemingly died to Kasifer’s own hands in an accident. And when she eventually returned she thought he had betrayed her. 

#oc #ocs #marzie #character design #original character #artists on tumblr #art #my art #creature design #WIP #her story is a mess thanks to Theresia bc it really is mostly that theresia’s backstory is a fucking nightmare #i haven’t figured it out :’( #also marzie is supposed to mirror kas’ true form. She’s got the red and blue except more red #and where he has a smooth tail and legs she’s got fluffy detailed ones #I kinda want her to look like an alive version of him but hhgggggh I also can’t figure out how to do that #especiially since I don’t just wanna take his design and somewhat change it. I want his design to continue looking cool and unique

[surplus-of-sarcasm]

100 Follower Special!

Thank you sooooo much for 100 followers! 🥰🥰 (technically 101 now, but semantics, semantics) I know that's a relatively small number, but I've been here for about 3 months, and I'm still happy anyway. Love you guys so much! 🩵🩵

TW: minor violence, bruises mention

Villain knows this. They've spent the past few weeks studying every detail of Hero's base meticulously. This was why Supervillain had chosen them for this mission. Because they didn't get distracted easily and they kept their full focus on their task.

Sneaking inside admittedly wasn't easy. Villain had spent hours racking their brain for answers as they typed away on their keyboard, trying to hack into the system. And after many sleepless nights and one too many large mugs of coffee, they'd finally gotten through Hero's security.

The positions of every door, every hidden door's placement, every secret passageway, and even where all the cameras were (they'd managed to disable them) were all etched into their memory.

They almost glide around with such ease, they might as well have owned the place. But their outwardly calm and collected demeanour was a somewhat fragile façade. Hero may have kept up a friendly persona and thrown quite a bit of banter their way, but they were dangerous in their own right, with deadly control over their power. The scattered bruises lining the villain's body are a testament to that.

They weren't sure they'd like to imagine what Hero would do if they caught them sneaking around in their own house.

But they're Villain, for God's sake. They'd fought and won against people much worse than Hero. Yet they'd never been even half this nervous.

Steeling themselves, they take a deep breath as they try to push all the negative thoughts out of their head. They place their ear to the door, listening for any noises, and the action brings a comfortable sense of familiarity to them from the number of times they'd done it. Hearing no sound, their hands work as swift as machinery, taking the lockpick out of their suit's pocket and working on the lock.

They finally manage to get it open, the door leading into their nemesis's living room. What kind of psychopath locks their living room's door? But the criminal didn't find that a surprise. Carefully lifting the dark green plush rug off the floor, they manage to loosen the fake floorboard underneath, leading to the trapdoor. Another detail they'd discovered spying on Hero through their computer.

Lifting the door, Villain wills the air in the room to return the floorboard and the carpet back to their place as the door shuts. They smirk to themselves at how smoothly their power works as they carefully make their way down the long staircase.

When they finally reach the end of the staircase, they are almost giddy with excitement. One that you could never read off their somber face. The same rush of blood and adrenaline pulsing through them as their first heist.

Walking carefully around Hero's base and resisting the temptation to explore the sleek, well-equipped place, they quickly find exactly what they were here for. The flash drive in the shiny glass case, more precious to Villain than any treasure. It may have looked so easy to get a hold of, but simplicity was impossible with Hero. There was a sick, twisted puzzle only a psychopath or a bitter STEM major could dream up that they had to solve first.

Their heartbeat quickly grows erratic, and their hands shake as they go through the bloody puzzle. Their eyes light up with glee as the glass case unlocks, and they reach inside, fingers almost closing around their prize.

Almost.

"Well done," a silky voice croons. It sounds proud rather than annoyed.

The crime-fighter stands there, leaning against the wall, arms folded over their chest with an amused glint in their eyes. They were dressed in a dark, satin robe thrown carelessly over their figure and tied at the waist, not even bothering with a mask. They regard Villain the same way one regards a child who'd been caught sneaking yet another cookie.

They chuckle lightly. "Ya know, if you wanted an invitation, you could've just asked. I believe I gave you my number last time we fought, hm?"

"Hilarious," they counter, whipping around and making a run for it, flash drive in hand. They try to send a blast of air towards their enemy, except there was barely any air in this damned basement. So all their attempts served was to send a pathetic, little breeze towards Hero.

As though they needed any further humiliation.

It barely takes a moment for the crime-stopper to confiscate the flash drive, twisting the villain's arm somewhat painfully and shoving them into the wall, and they toss the drive back into the case. It locks automatically.

Villain does not appreciate their current position at all. Pinned against the wall, a horribly overused cliché, leaving them mortified, if the look on their face is any indication. Said face is now flushed a bold red, their normally sharp tongue now rendered useless.

Worst of all is Hero's smug, lopsided smirk and the way that they look at Villain in general, with their prying eyes, their gaze sparkling with curiosity. It made them feel like a specimen being examined.

"Shh, it's no use struggling, darling," Hero purrs somewhat soothingly. And their words hold truth because Hero's super strength doesn't falter, and Villain's squirming serves little to no purpose but to embarrass them, and apparently entertain their nemesis.

"W-what are you going to do to me?" they all but squeak.

The crime-fighter laughs, and they feel their heartbeat quicken to impossible degrees, not just out of fear, but out of something far more dangerous. . .

"Relax, I won't hurt you. I'd hate to mess up the oh-so-beautiful artwork, hm?" they murmur

Heat spreads through Villain's body like wildfire. Their words catch in their throat, and their breathing becomes shallower. They'd kept it all professional when responding to Hero's flirtations, being dedicated to their job meant adhering to the concept that they were strictly enemies. But then why are they an incoherent mess of emotions right now?

Hero's honey-sweet tone, the blinding grin flashed on perfect white teeth against dark tan skin, and the flowery scent of their fragrance don't sit well with the criminal. But nothing compares to the way they fix their gaze on Villain, as though they were someone to be admired, someone alluring, more than just a weapon. And, it's not like their life had been devoid of romance, but no one had ever looked at them with the same awe-filled fiery passion like Hero did.

"What do you want?" they breathe out. An honest question.

"Right now at least, I want to invite you to have breakfast here with me, it bring pretty early in the morning. It'll be fun, sweetheart," They run the fingers of their free hand along their nemesis's jaw, a feather-light caress.

Whatever the hell Villain was feeling had just intensified to impossible degrees. They are intoxicated with the almost magnetic charm that made it difficult impossible to think straight. And they didn't want it to end.

"Fine," they answer, trying to keep the shakiness out of their words, which come out at a higher pitch than they intend. Damn you, Hero.

Their enemy's whole face lights up, and they flash them a huge grin. Not one of their seductive, lopsided smirks. But a big smile full of utter joy.

That's adorable. Am I growing soft?

"Sure, but I just have one more request."

"Enlighten me."

They trace the shape of their mask in the air. Well, if they're going to have breakfast with this hero, in an outright romantic setting, then the usage of the mask didn't seem to make much sense.

Hero lifts their arm off, and Villain had half a mind to run off and get a hold of the drive. But one look into those gorgeous sea-green eyes, and all their plans were swiftly discarded and shredded to smithereens.

They peel the mask off, heartbeat now erratic.

"Y-you're absolutely breathtaking in every sense of the word, Villain," Hero coos, snaking an arm around Villain's waist and pulling them close against their side.

"You're not so bad yourself, hotshot," they laugh, pleased to finally have anything on the hero.

This was foolish, risky, and it broke every single goddamn rule in Villain's book. But never in their life had something ever felt so right.

Tagging for this one specifically: @thelocalnemesis @deckofaces @onlywhump @justalittlecorrupted (u usually ask me to tag u on my stuff, I hope this isn't too presumptuous, Corrupted!) @featheryvee

Also, some of y'all r alr on the taglist, so you'll just be tagged there.

✨️Le Taglist: @larinzz @syberianjade @lateuplight @altu-whump @enbious-prince @astr0-mj @thelazywitchphotographer @addictedsandwhichaki @justalittlecorrupted @quaggasus @dodo-docs @vernilliom @sirrsnakesssss

Wanna be on the taglist? This will take you there!

#prompt #hero x villain #cocky hero #flirty hero x flustered villain #romance #a little gremlin's writing #female writers #writers on tumblr #a bit fluffy #somewhat self indulgent #enemies to lovers #writing #but really #THANK YOUUU FOR A 100 FOLLOWS!!!!

[sysig]

Charm(s) meet Charm Bear (Patreon)

#Doodles #Just Desserts #Villainsona #Spider Bites #Build a Bear #Funnily enough I was looking at Charm's earliest doodles recently and wouldn't you know - Build-a-Bear is mentioned in the tags! #Specifically around the Just Desserts pets system but hm! Interesting! I had forgotten haha but yeah that's an aesthetic I like! #Or at least that I incorporated into the mix of Just Desserts development hehe #It feels fitting that it finally come full-circle in a small way :D #Clearly Charm is very into it haha - not surprising if the BaB aesthetic was for the pets and she loves Taffy! #If I remember right it was the upgrade coupon system and bringing pets to life that was meant to be BaB themed - #The Heart/Wish ceremony about imbuing strong feelings into a fluffy sweet little thing <3 #And of dressing them up! :D Cute! Hehe #I think it was also somewhat based on Pokemon contests? :0 Different from battles and EXP but not completely unrelated #ANYway lol #Charm likes her bear counterpart hehe <3 All the Charms do! There's already a few Charms to choose from add one more #I had to roll out the Charm welcome wagon for the new addition to the Charm ranks - it's very important to build on each other! #Classic Charm just barely taller than the plush bear ahh <3 <3 I mean she's still canonically only like two inches tall #Shrunk bear lol #But just being naturally chibi even if it was shrunk down it'd be almost as big as her! Just little things both of 'em! #I had to throw her into the outfit I picked out as well - it suits her! Exactly what I was hoping for haha #Still fun to think about making actual Charm clothes for the bear hehehe #And finally some Early Powers Charm(s)! :D #I like that Charm calls the EPAU Charm just ''Other me'' lol - that's definitely how I'd refer to a doppleganger of myself so #And of course Spider Bites would love the fluffy little lad as well! She's considerably bigger haha #Kind of a fun comparison of how much bigger Spider Bites is from either of the individual Charms - as told through Bear size comparison pfft #Spider Bites and so cuuuute hhggghhghg <3 <3 Her swirly hair and how she could hold up the bear so securely hehe #Cute cute ♥

[quibbs126]

Has anyone yet done a fic about Dark Cacao and Second Watcher falling in love, but it’s around the time Dark Choco’s a baby? Like, these two are getting to know each other and sort out their feelings, and it also features Dark Cacao as a new single dad, and the fic also has tiny Dark Choco shenanigans

I mean I think that’d be a neat idea. And also given that one picture we have of a baby Dark Choco being held by what looks to be a young Second Watcher, you could assume that he’s one of the people put in charge of taking care of the young prince, and that gives an easy opportunity for the two characters to meet and spend time with one another (Second Watcher and Dark Cacao I mean)

Though I suppose there’d then be the question of where Dark Choco’s other parent is at this time. Though I suppose you could also just as easily say Dark Cacao is a single parent, as in he’s quite literally the only parent of Dark Choco, whether he was baked or he just was manifested one day or something

#I want to read that premise #but also I can’t really write it myself since I’m no good at multi-chapter fics (I Imagine this to be somewhat of a slow burn) #and also I don’t understand romance that much #but I imagine it to be a relatively fluffy fic as well #perhaps with some angst sprinkled in with Dark Cacao being terrified that he has no idea what he’s doing #or something like that #or Dark Choco getting horribly sick #listen I just want this fic to be real alright? #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #dark cacao cookie #second watcher cookie #watchercao #dark choco cookie #fics #fanfiction #questions #random stuff

[yourbuerokrat2]

Arroz con leche

@procrastinatorproject

Arroz con leche Me quiero casar

Space, as Agnes has found out pretty early on during her stay on La Sierena, was mostly empty. Which was not really surprising considering it was called space. And an emotion that could always catch someone offguard when contemplating a little bit too much about it in a philosophical and not purely scientifical way, was loneliness. And while she preferred to keep her mind busy by thinking and rambling about the actual facts, she found out that Cristóbal Rios sometimes preferred to talk about the philosophical ankle. Which was also not all that surprising considering the kind of books she would catch him reading from time to time.

Con una señorita que sepa bailar.

Agnes Jurati was a bit of an awkward dancer and as much as Rios had reassured her that he would teach her, it had been quite a while since he had last danced with anyone. They had quickly found out that while both of them failed at the more traditionally european dances, the Cueca was just fine with them . After a couple of tries that is.

Que sepa coser Que sepa planchar

He reminded her of a pirate but not one of those historically accurate pirates but the ones as shown in books she may or may not have read at one time in her life. Rogueishly handsome, a thief unbound by the duties that come with being tied to organizations  like Starfleet.

Rios thought she was cute with the way she rambled on about whatever came to her mind during their conversations , he thought she was pretty every time she smiled and he knew she smart.

Both had thought that the other was unattainable and that their shared kisses and nights were never meant to last.

Neither of them could believe their luck that it did.  

Que sepa abrir la puerta Para ir a jugar.

It was… nice to lay besides someone familiar every night. To lay beside someone you could trust and who you knew doesn’t judge you for the things you did and did not do. Who did not ask when you woke up in the middle of the night with the name of someone long since dead on your lips. Rios in particular always started to sing the to her now all to familiar lullaby. Agnes  too had tried to help him with it when she was woken up by his nightmares. When she had done it the first time however, it had earned her a laugh. Apparently even though she had memorized the text perfectly her prononciation was horrible. She got better at it over the years though.

Arroz con leche Me quiero casar

Agnes was just happy that Rios never seemed to mind that he ended up marrying a woman who did not exactly fit the description of the woman in the song.

#sorry for the late entry #I wrote you a few days ago that it would be friday #job has been killing me ever since New Years Eve #and I have not really seen ST:Picard season 1 for years #so I did some research and I hope it ended up being fluffy but at least somewhat IC #star trek winter gift exchange

[stuckasmain]

87 year old babygirl, hi.

#absolutely need to watch more of his filmography I’ve only seen three movies he’s been in #why is it every actor I like could be my father/grandfather he #help 😭 #keir dullea #sir — #seeing him with non buzzed - somewhat fluffy hair 👁️ 👁️ #i’m a simple person #actors #1960s movies #1970s movies #1980s movies

[wrathbites]

20. alone, finally

Send me a number and I'll write a micro story using the word or phrase

He's alone, finally. Or as alone as he can be in the Belfry, Tim asleep on one of the inflatable mattresses, Babs parked in front of the screens and monitoring Dick's progress through a short patrol that's already stretching past four hours, Alfred's return flight due to land in another six, and Bruce —

(If you're watching this)

— Jason catches himself before his feet land on the table. There's nobody in the chair kicking his boots to the floor to spare him Alfred's wrath. There's no newspaper set aside in favour of the crossword book between them like a peace offering. There's no companionable silence settled around them, long sought after and cut so short.

There's no ghost waiting for him, no blame thrown at him, no disappointment or accusation or rage. Nothing at all. Just an absence where there should've been a presence, a sweater discarded where Bruce should be.

He's alone. They're all alone.

(I'm dead)

Bruce isn't coming back. Not this time.

#uraniumwriting #Batman fanfiction #Wrathwrites #I coulda gone a somewhat fluffy route with a different thing entirely #but no this ask slingshot me straight to thinking of Gotham Knights #sorry not sorry whoopsie