#<- prev: it’s okay you normally do<3

[local-herb-lady]

Not much surprisingly! I didn’t need many but I did get more Mageberry and Thunder Thistle!

Hey cedar! You doing okay? it been a few days and I’d thought I’d check up on you!

— Azakea ( @local-herb-lady )

hi ‘zalea! i’m okay. i’ve been tired - think it might be burnout, haha? but i’ve not opened the shop in a day or two.

how are you?

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Shit Fae!Danny Has Said While Living With Waynes

Danny, making a 'got your nose' gesture: Hey Jason, look, I've got your name!

Red Hood, who suddenly can't remember his own name: What the fuck

Bruce, in a tired dad voice: Danny, please, we talked about this, return your brother's name back

Danny: Oh, come on, it's not like he even uses it

Jason, thankfully remembering his name: And I repeat, what the f u c k

Steph, at dinner: I was wondering, what do faeries even eat normally? Like, flowers and stuff?

Danny, his eyes two black voids inside his eyesockets: The souls of the innocent

Steph: So that's a 'no' on the flowers?

Danny, back to normal and shoving a bagel in his mouth: I mean, I can, but would you want to stay on the crumbs-only diet when you are in a 5-star Michelin restaurant?

Tim: It's actually 3-star. Michelin rating system only has three stars, not five.

Dick: Are you saying that people are basically food joints for Fae?

Damian, at Constantine: It would do you well to choose your wording better when speaking to fair folk-

Danny, very much a fair folk, appearing out of thin air in the Cave: Yolo, s'up bitches, guess who's back in town!

Damian: -even when they do not necessarily do so themselves.

Constantine, looking between them: Are you sure you're the human and he is the changeling?

Tim, 46 hours of no sleep: Hey, if you can take a name from someone, does it mean you can take, like, other things that have no real shape or form?

Danny: Names do have shape and form, they even have taste. Yours is like a ping-pong ball made out of really dense cotton candy with banana-caramel flavor.

Tim, losing his touch with reality: Dense banana cotton candy...

Danny: By the way, I know you wanted to ask me if I could take your need to sleep from you, and theoretically, the answer is yes.

Tim, his whisper full of hope: ...will you?..

Danny: No. Either go to sleep or keep suffering. I'm not here to make your life easier.

Danny, after a half-an-hour rant on the Fae customs and traditions: -and Fae never tell the truth, but also never lie. It's a work of art, you know, say what you want but never in a way that makes sense.

Jason: So Fae just like to fuck with people.

Danny, looking him in the eyes, smiling and winking: Sure, humans are very fuckable.

Bruce, trying very hard not to pay attention to this: Can you make an example?

Danny: Sure. I lied.

Bruce: Where?

Danny: :)

Bruce, feeling like he is about to lose his mind: W h e r e ?

Alfred, right after he heard Dick's muffled screaming in the hallway: Young Master Danny, would you mind returning Master Dick his ability to talk in coherent sentences?

Danny, obediently standing up and walking out of the library: ...okay.

Bruce: How come he always listens to you?

Alfred: He knows what I will do if he doesn't.

Danny, returning to the library: He will change all the silverware to iron-ware. As well as the doorknobs and hairbrushes and lightswitches and everything else.

Alfred: Did you fix Master Dick's shoes?

Danny: I did. But I still think that making all of his shoes left ones was funny.

Alfred: Indeed, it was.

| <-prev | next-> |

There's also a fic now.

[httpsserene]

I LOVED daniel ricciardo x max verstappen x reader!! could you write a part 2?

𝖍𝖙𝖙𝖕𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖊'𝖘 2𝕶 𝕾𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑 | 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖊𝖑 𝕽𝖎𝖈𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖔 𝕰𝖉𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐞: 𝐊.𝐎. !

summary: Okay, Daniel may have won the first round. He cleared her dry spell with no problem and used Max to do it, too. That’s completely fine, she will never complain about experiencing some of the best orgasms of her life. But, Max (the man unable to not have the last word) coerces her into giving Daniel a taste of his own medicine.  As soon as they can manage to walk on two feet, without a wobble. Mark their fucking words.  pairing: daniel ricciardo x max verstappen x fem!black!reader content warning: 18+ only. mdni. explicit sexual content. author recommends reading part one before this. polyamory. threesome. massages. overstimulation. multiple orgasms. safe, sane, and consensual. bondage. safeword mention. unprotected sex. ruined orgasm. handjob. oral sex (male receiving). edging. crying during sex. praise kink. nipple play. dom/sub ig? joking during sex. dom!max verstappen. switch!daniel ricciardo. sub!reader. vaginal sex. anal sex (male). sex toys (butt plug). frottage. don’t like don’t read. no beta we die like men. edited by the author, though. this is a fictional depiction of real-life people, and this is not an accurate representation of them. word count: 4.3k words

author’s notes: to all the lovely readers who begged for a part two of my f1 kinktober special | overstimulation kink w danny & max. these tags may look crazy...okay, they are but the fic is reasonably crazy i would say. this was humbling to write, you have been warned. my 2k followers special comes to its end with this final installment and there will be no part three of this fic < 3. i may repost this on ao3 in a week or so, for ease of reading as i know long fics on tumblr are kind of annoying :)

(i'm going to take a little pause from writing daniel ricciardo fics but those of you that have requested things for him i will get to them in due time xxx)

prev part 1 2k special join taglist feedback & requests table of contents↻

Your body feels like it’s been wrung out: legs wobbly, thighs bruised, hips aching, back broken, and numb with heat between your legs. You refuse to wear pants as the friction is too paralyzing to take more than a few steps. Loose dresses are your best friend–for the first couple of days, you even went commando around the ranch—thank god neither one of your boyfriends clued into that. 

However, it’s not like you disliked the oversensitivity and aching muscles that came after sex. You loved the feeling even more as it was the first time you’d been properly fucked in a few months. Having that unending thirst for Max and Daniel quenched; it’s heightened how you experience life. You swear that your vision feels sharper, your melanated skin softer, anything you eat tastes better than delicious, the homemade lemonade is sweeter, and most importantly, your desperation has calmed. While you love life on the farm, where living has become succulent under your senses—Max’s attitude has done a complete 180°.

His energy is completely subdued. It’s like Daniel drained the cum and brat out of him. Max is all stuttered words when he makes eye contact with either of you, blushing fully at the lightest tease or brush of skin, voice soft when he speaks, usual bluntness replaced with shyness, and he’s even clingier than normal. If he hasn’t glued himself underneath Daniel’s arm, he’ll be plastered against your back.

You wonder if he’s embarrassed that Daniel changed their “plan” on him at the last minute, or if it’s because Daniel used him as a tool to get you off—but, asking Max would only scare him away or cause the brat to resurface…so you don’t verbalize your theories. You find Max in this state more adorable than usual, and you won’t complain if it means a surplus of Max-cuddles.

Yet, the figurative rug is pulled from beneath your feet when the three of you go Christmas shopping. Daniel had separated from the two of you to go pick up a gift for his nephew, leaving you and Max alone to browse through knickknacks that decorate the shelves. Your eyes were caught by cat ornaments that looked exactly like Jimmy and Sassy but before you could reach out to grab, them Max grabbed you by the hand and pulled you to hide in the next aisle over.

“I want to break Daniel with so many orgasms that he won’t be able to speak by the time we’re done with him,” Max states bluntly. The brat is back.

“Regulate your volume,” you whisper-yell at him, hand moving to cover his mouth as you look around to see if anybody heard your Dutch boyfriend, “We are in public and you decided now is the time to bring this up?!”

He pulls your hand off his face, looking at you with wide eyes, “But, liefje–c’mon! Daniel’s been way too smug recently. Whenever I’m around him he doesn’t miss the chance to mention how he made me cry—made you cry, too!”

“Inside voice, Max,” you bite out, continuing to look at the Christmas decorations in this aisle.

“Fine,” Max whispers, rolling his eyes, “Technically, it’s another Christmas present for him if you think about it.”

“I’m trying not to think about it if you haven’t noticed.”

“Don’t you want to even the board? Imagine it: Daniel underneath the two of us, and we’re overwhelming him with pleasure. Doesn’t that sound like a good time?”

You stop walking abruptly and Max runs into your back. You spin around and stare at him with narrowed eyes and a flared nose.

“You seriously thought the best time to discuss this is in the middle of a family-friendly store, where our boyfriend is picking up a gift for his nephew?”

“Yes.”

“If you stop talking about it for the entire time we’re shopping today, I’ll consider it. We can discuss this when the phantom feeling of his cum on my skin goes away.”

That evening, you and the Dutchman watch Daniel fix a motorbike out in the driveway from the garage. He’s shirtless, sweat dripping down his face and back, you can see every muscle engage and relax as he moves. He’s silhouetted by the Australian sunset and you hear Max choke on his breath when Daniel’s loose jeans slip down his hips, exposing the waistband of his briefs—twin sighs of disappointment leave you both when he catches and drags them back up. With shaky hands, you grab the pitcher of lemonade you prepared to pour a glass for each of you. Ignoring how you missed the glass on your first few attempts, you two bring the drinks to your lips and dry the cups embarrassingly quickly to satiate your desperation—the lemonade doesn’t help. 

Daniel finishes with the bike and wipes his hands on a towel he had tucked into his back pocket, looking your guys’ way. He smiles brightly—shamefully, you wave in response and Max tucks a nonexistent strand of hair behind his ear; the two of you are acting like school girls with a crush. 

The Australian stands and in a few relaxed strides, he comes to a stop in front of you two. 

“Can you pour me a glass, sweetheart?” his request rumbles out velvety.

Stuttering, you scramble to do as he asked and find that Max has reached for the pitcher as well when your hands bump into each other. The two of you freeze and stare at each other with wide eyes; Max’s blush blooms red across his face and yours warms the brown skin of your cheeks. Daniel’s chuckle of amusement snaps you out of it; Max pours the drink, and you hand it off to the Australian, avoiding eye contact. He brings the glass to his lips and drains it dry. You and the Dutchman stare with gaped mouths, watching the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows, whimpering and pressing your thighs together at his ah in satisfaction when finished. 

He leans down to place the glass back on the tray and smirks at you and Max, “Absolutely delicious. It almost tastes as sweet as either of you is acting right now.”

Both of you stay silent, squirming in your lawn chairs. Daniel takes a second to slowly press both of your mouths closed with a nudge of his fingers before straightening up and clearing his throat.

“Thank you for the drink, sweetheart,” Daniel cocks his head to the side in question, before winking, his smug aura radiating off of him, “Or should I say, ‘sweethearts?’ As both of you seemed so eager to help me quench my thirst.”

Your mouth pops open again and Max audibly whimpers next to you. Daniel laughs and walks to enter the house, “Don’t feel afraid to join me in the shower.”

The plan is set before Daniel’s out of the shower. You’ve changed into a black mini slip dress, curls loosely cascading down your back as you’ve draped yourself on top of the bed sideways, face-down on your tummy, not caring how the back of your dress has ridden up a couple of inches. Max laid himself on his side next to you, dressed in a navy Enchanté shirt and a pair of Daniel’s briefs that hug at his thighs a little too tightly, and plays with the bottom hem of your dress, letting his fingers drift underneath to press at bruises that haven’t healed from that night. 

At the sound of the shower shutting off, the two of you glance at each other; Max checking in with you one last time before you guys follow through with the plan. At your nod, Max presses a soft kiss to your lips and goes back to fiddling with your dress. You rest your head on your folded arms and as your eyes flutter shut, the bathroom door opens.

You hear Daniel humming some country song and he gets about three steps into the room before he stops abruptly.

“Well, if I had known this would be waiting for me out here, I wouldn’t have spent a lifetime in the shower waiting for you guys to take me up on my offer.”

Max makes a noise of confusion, his hand pausing at your hemline, “What are you talking about? We just thought it would be nice to give you a massage—you know, prevent any muscle tightness from when you were hunched over the bike.”

“Is that so, pretty girl?” Daniel questions you, looking past Max. He’s dried off from his shower already, skin gleaming thanks to your cocoa butter lotion he probably stole, hair still damp but not dripping, and a towel wrapped around his waist. You’re sure he’s trying to sniff out any weakness; to see if he can bend you into revealing Max’s agenda for tonight. Little does he know that you’re not an accomplice, you’ve put a good amount of work into this plan too.

In response, you offer a small smile and hold up a bottle of massage oil that was previously tucked into your side. Daniel’s narrowed eyes flit between the two of you, and then he relaxes, shrugging loftily as he motions for the two of you to move so he can lie down. 

“Okay, sure,” Daniel laughs, falling into the bed as soon as the space is available, lying flat on his stomach, face planting into the pillows and his next words are muffled but loud enough to understand, “You don’t have to use ‘giving me a massage’ as an excuse to feel me up, but I’m not going to turn it down if you’re so willing to do so.”

You and Max are kneeling on opposite sides of Daniel’s body on the bed, resting on the heels of your feet, and you muffle a giggle at Max rolling his eyes at your boyfriend’s words. The younger man slaps his hand on Daniel’s back, grinning at the stifled yelp that sounds from near the headboard, and coos sarcastically, “Do you think you can handle that level of pain? Considering this is a deep-tissue massage?”

You drizzle a nice amount of oil on the middle of his back, letting your laughter escape as Daniel pleads, “Woah—hear me out, what about a regular massage? I would like to end this massage without crying from soreness, please.”

Slowly the two of you turn to look at each other, smiles spreading across your lips, and Max murmurs, “Oh. You’ll be crying by the end of this.”

You ignore Daniel begging for mercy underneath you and beginning massaging. For all of the Dutchman’s ribbing, the two of you are gentle. Your hands soothingly rub any tension out of his back; the two of you are only doing this to melt Daniel into the bed. He protests and grumbles through the both of you digging into his shoulders, but quiets as you make your way down his back, practically moaning when you push a knot out from behind his shoulder blade. Max manages to wrangle out a whimper when he presses his thumb into the dimple of his lower back. Neither of you gets close to the towel resting low on his hips; you want to keep him as calm and unaware as possible, but getting close to that towel would do the opposite. When Daniel’s breathing slows and his sounds of relief start to lessen, Max gently coaxes Daniel into rolling on his back with ease.

The brunette’s eyes flutter open, but you tut disapprovingly when his gaze meets yours. With a kiss on his forehead, Daniel closes his eyes at your word, not fighting you for a second. And from that point, you and Max begin conditioning the older man to get used to only having one pair of hands on him at a time. Max massages his chest, you take a break, you massage his chest, Max takes a break; and as Daniel starts to relax at the rhythm, you guys slowly increase the length of your breaks. 

Until the breaks get long enough to slip the ties that you guys fastened to the headboard out.

Daniel was so entranced at the sight of you and Max sprawled on his bed that he forgot to examine his surroundings. They’re silk ties, with pre-made straps for you to tighten as soon as his hands are inside them. The two of you take it to the next step; you each begin to massage his arms (still employing your regular breaks), raising them upwards to “get a better angle.” Daniel doesn’t even shift at the change, he just hums under his breath when either of you soothes across a good spot. And with little effort, you and Max raise both of his arms and smoothly slip his tattooed hands into the ties, tightening the straps in the blink of an eye.

The older man startles, eyes flying open as he tries to yank his wrists free of the binds, “Uhhhh, what the fuck?”

Both of you watch as Daniel tries to free himself without any luck, enjoying the show as the silk ties prove they won’t give out. Chills shudder down your spine as your older boyfriend tries to order the two of you to release him, but he must see the feral glint shine in your eyes because he switches to asking when neither of you moves.

“You know what to say if you really want us to let you go, Daniel,” Max states bluntly, pulling off his Enchanté shirt easily. 

You hum in agreement, straddling the Australian’s hips and simultaneously tugging your slip dress over your head and tossing it to the side, exposing your bare body before seating yourself on the bulge showing through the towel. Daniel chokes out a curse, his eyes dancing between yours and Max’s bodies being dangled in front of his face without being able to touch.

He tests the binds for any give half-heartedly before sniffing dismissively, jaw tightening as he challenges Max, “Do your worst, baby.”

Max scoffs out a laugh, “That is the plan.”

From there you and Max turn into savages. Both of you bypass kissing Daniel, pressing lips and biting bruises along his neck and torso instead. The man can only cry out as Max terrorizes his nipples with teeth and pinching fingers while you paint marks on his hipbones and navel. The older man isn’t convinced that the night will end without the two of you seriously attempting cannibalism but the thought is pushed away when the towel is tugged off his hips.

Max laughs mockingly and flicks Daniel’s already-hardened length, “Well, this will be even easier than we thought, liefje.”

“I was half-hard from the minute you guys put your hands on me,” Daniel snipes, “Don’t let this go to your head.”

You raise an eyebrow in question, tilting your head to the side innocently which contrasts the strong grasp of your hand around the head of Daniel’s cock, “Isn’t that a compliment, though? Anyways, it clearly went to your head.”

Daniel groans in pleasure as you start to rapidly stroke along his quickly reddening length, “That was a terrible pun–fuck–but, I’m only letting it slide because your hand is on my cock.”

He bucks up into your fist and you release him immediately, smiling as you see him choke down a whimper of disappointment. The older man isn’t left alone for long, as Max drags the tip of his index finger along the slit of Daniel’s cock before flattening his palm across the head and roughly circling it to overwhelm him with an alarming amount of pleasure-coated friction. 

The brunette can’t stifle his cries this time nor can he buck his hips, thanks to the Dutchman pinning him down with his free forearm. Max pulls both of his hands away quickly, delighting in Daniel’s sounds of displeasure, the two of you watching as he attempts to chase a hand that isn’t there anymore. His length is throbbing, pulsing angrily, redder than the blush that stains his tanned chest. You swallow wantingly. Both of you thought that you would be able to get a few more rounds out of a handjob, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.

Max gets his hand around the base and yours circles the tip. Simultaneously, the two of you start rubbing him off in time, keeping your fists just tight enough and your motions just quick enough to hurtle Daniel to the edge. He throws his head back into the pillows, hips freely bucking as neither one of you attempts to stop him, his hands pulling against the ties all the while,

“You can cum whenever you want, Daniel,” Max states.

The older man lets out several pants of desperation, calling both of your names as he nears his climax. And when you both see the telltale sign of Daniel’s chest rising and falling heavily, you release his cock.

“No! Wait–shit,” he tries to gasp, but it’s too late. His cock starts leaking, jerking pathetically as cum drips down his length in ribbons—his orgasm ruined. Dry sobs escape his lungs as he humps the air, looking for friction that isn’t there, continuing to beg for a hand even as he struggles to breathe as a result of the unsatisfying release.

You let him come down hard, offering support in a quick squeeze of the meat of his thigh over his tattoo. When he catches his breath, his eyes flutter open. Max sees the wetness gathered in the waterlines and moves in the blink of an eye, enveloping Daniel’s still-hard cock in his mouth. 

The Australian’s back arches off the bed, hips racing forward then backward as he cries out, unsure if the feeling of Max’s mouth is good. Both pairs of your hands fly forward to still Daniel, forcing him to feel every crevice of Max’s tongue and throat, trying to bring him to another orgasm as quickly as possible. It works, Daniel stops fighting and starts obeying, rolling upward into Max’s mouth, whimpering out depravedly as he struggles against his binds again. You see his abs start to undulate in waves, a second orgasm trying to form and you slip your hand underneath Max’s chin, lightly squeezing at Daniel’s balls—and the tears fall as his release slams into him like a semi-truck.

The younger man swallows around Daniel, humming as he does it, yet the bobbing motion of his head doesn’t stop—Max is going to try his hardness to prevent Daniel from going soft, even as the older man tries to fight and twist away from the wet grasp of his throat. The Australian’s tears paint his cheek as he sobs messily, and you’re quick to check in with him as Max’s mouth is occupied.

“Daniel, color?” you manage to make your voice sound steady, but your thighs are trembling, your cunt pulsing with wetness and need. 

The man whimpers, eyes unseeingly looking down at you and Max as he cries messily, “Green.”

You moan breathily, finally giving in to your urges and rushing forward to messily kiss Daniel. You let him cry into your mouth, nipping at his lips and tasting his tears before pulling away. Max pulls off Daniel’s cock with a reedy gasp and moves backward quickly so you can slip in between them, seating your cunt atop the half-hard length and beginning to grind along him. The brunette makes a sound as if he’s been punched in the gut, arms pausing in their fight against the ties before they resume with renewed strength. Daniel scrambles to get his feet underneath him, trying to buck off the hot, wet drag of your cunt against his cock. It’s pulsing so violently that he swears he can feel it in his throat. 

Max knocks his feet down, and tugs Daniel’s chin to look at him with a hardened grasp, with his voice rough and croaky he commands, “Can you give us one more, Daniel?”

Daniel's glossy, brown eyes stare at Max without answer, mouth parted as drool slips from the corners of his lips. The Dutchman’s brow tightens with worry and he releases his chin to pull you off. But, before he can stop you, Daniel gasps out desperately.

“M’ green—please, please, Max,” Daniel nods viciously, “Green, green—one more.”

The younger man soothes Daniel with sweet words, praising and comforting him as he leans forward to pepper his lips and neck with kisses and kitten licks, pausing to motion you to continue. 

You line up Daniel’s cock easily and murmur out a ‘thank you’, before sinking down and not stopping until your ass meets his pelvis, uncaring of how he attempts to shake you off. His body is reacting in too much, but Max and you both see and hear how his brain interprets it as too good. 

You keen in pleasure but your noises are deafened by Daniel’s cries and begs for relief. Well aware that you have to get yourself off so Max can have a turn, you find that toe-curling angle with the help of Max directing your hips, holding yourself steady with one hand behind you on the bed and the other drawing rapid circles on your clit. Max moves to let you rest your back along his chest, your frizzed curls a mess as they bounce with your movements. 

The visual stimulation of Daniel in front of you moaning and heaving for more, the frantic twitching of his length inside of you, the sound of your skin slapping against his, and Max’s voice ghosting right by your ear, the ‘good girl’ that left his lips taking a second to process; all of it pushes you into the abyss. You don’t know if it’s you or Daniel that screams, your blood rushing in your ears and your vision flashing white clouds your mind as the explosion of pleasure burns your nerve endings. 

With a choked ‘fuck,’ you slump over, slipping off his twitching cock and slinking down next to Daniel as you shiver and shake through the last dregs of pleasure. Max flutters over both of you, unsure if he should keep pushing the limit, but both you and Daniel yell confirmations of “Green!” that have Max ripping off his briefs, reaching between his legs and whimpering as he carefully tugs out the plug he’s had in for the entire time.

Daniel’s eyes roll in disbelief, his brain exhausted to the point where he can’t string together any words to communicate his confusion.

Max huffs out a hysterical giggle, one hand stroking along his cock as he tosses the plug off the side of the bed. “Fuck–you were in the shower forever, Daniel. I’ve had that in for too long.”

The younger man shakes as he lowers himself on Daniel’s cock, bottoming out with a whimper as he mouths down at Daniel, “Just one more, baby, okay? Make me come, yeah?”

The older man’s moan is curdled with overstimulation, but he finds the will to get his feet underneath him and shakily thrust upwards into Max, hoping somehow that that’s enough. Max lets his head fall back in pleasure, thankful for the moving pressure of Daniel’s cock inside of him rather than the consistent annoyance of the plug holding him open. Coupled with the stretch of his rim and his hand furiously twisting along his length, Max reaches his peak quickly.

Before taking the plunge, he chokes out words of praise at Daniel and you rush to do the same, understanding that Max is attempting to push Daniel over the edge as well. You see tears of frustration build in Daniel’s eyes as he struggles to fully give in, and you fall forward to tug at his nipples with your teeth, reinvigorating Daniel’s attempts at slipping from the silk ties. At the sight, Max shouts, body tightening and then relaxing as he strokes out ribbons of cum. Daniel’s hips stutter when the first drop of cum lands on his skin and you feel his lungs halt as the strongest orgasm—most likely dry, at that—wreaks havoc upon his body.

His body goes limp underneath the two of you, and his hands droop in their binds. You speedily untie Daniel’s arms as Max slowly slips off the man’s rapidly softening length, trying to lessen any unwanted stimulation for the unaware Australian. You catch his arms before they fall against the bed, rubbing your hands against them to coax proper blood flow in them. Spent, Max stumbles to Daniel’s side, taking one arm out of your hands and matching your movements.

“Good job, liefje,” Max breathes out, smiling up at you with an exhausted smile, his hair drenched with sweat and falling in front of his eyes. You blush and kiss him sweetly, “It was your idea!”

Max shakes his head, pausing his hands to reach down and brush Daniel’s curls off his forehead, “No; you made half of the plan. So, it was our idea.”

The Australian groans, eyes fluttering open but they’re still clouded enough that you both know he’s going to need more than enough TLC tonight, “ —idea made me think i w‘sgonna die.”

Max laughs, rubbing circles around the man’s temple, “I guess we forgot to factor in your old age as a variable, didn’t we, liefje?”

Daniel’s face flutters in displeasure at being referred to as “old,” even when he’s not quite come down, “Mean, Maxy.”

You giggle, “That’s what he calls mean out of this entire experience?”

The Dutchman presses kisses to both of your foreheads before he stumbles out of bed, “I’m going to grab some fruit and cream for Daniel’s wrists. Should I grab anything else?” He directs the question to you.

Of course, the Australian jumps in before you have the chance to respond, “Lemonade, please.”

© httpsserene2024

[jackhues]

CLOWNS AND CARS - PADDOCK PASS, BABY [ PART FIVE ]

in which y/n hamilton might've accidently manifested her dad's dnf (australia 24)

[ prev ] | [ next ] | [ notes ] | [ masterlist ]

y/nhamilton

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 & others

y/nhamilton: "what did it cost you (to convince these two to step away from the track)?" "nothing (one of my dad's signed hats)"

tagged: kimi.antonelli, olliebearman

pinned y/nhamilton: guys i know the actual line is 'everything'. stop attacking me, i'm sensitive -> user: i just choked on my water -> y/nhamilton: are you okay? -> user: yeah i'm fine now!

pinned y/nhamilton: @/landonorris see how well MY bracelet would match with that fit -> landonorris: you mean mine? you're never getting it back just accept the fact -> y/nhamilton: never

pinned y/nhamilton: swipe to the end to see a wallaby sniff oliver -> kimi.antonelli: not pictured is oliver screaming very loud and running away -> olliebearman: i'm literally being bullied by two CHILDREN

user: omgg pretty 😍

user: ollie in the third slide is looking up the way y/n normally does when they talk -> y/nhamilton: i'm not short. he's built like a giraffe

user: omgg look at kimi with the koala -> y/nhamilton: that's not a koala. it's a mirror

user: queen hamilton making sure no one featured on her page gets an ego 🤩

logansargeant: invite? -> y/nhamilton: boy you were sleeping -> logansargeant: so THAT'S what all of those calls were for

carlossainz55: 🫎🫎 ->y/nhamilton: 🫏🫏 -> user: i have no idea what this means and i never will, but i look forward to carlos' comment EVERY time y/n posts

doriane_pin: pretty girl 😍 -> y/nhamilton: marry me 💍 -> doriane_pin: 👰👰👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 -> kimi.antonelli: what did i just see? -> y/nhamilton: congrats, you were a witness at our wedding!

--

--

y/nhamilton

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc, olliebearman & others

y/nhamilton: last slide is me watching the aus gp if you even care

tagged: lewishamilton, valtteribottas, maxverstappen1

user: I CARE!

user: y/n hamilton back at it with the gp dumps

charles_leclerc: where are the podium pics? -> y/nhamilton: you put that filter on all of the ones you sent. it's not the vibe i'm going for today

logansargeant: are you still depressed about the uno cards? -> y/nhamilton: yes.

carlossainz55: 🏆🏆 -> y/nhamilton:🏅🏅

user: nahh you can't be clowning ferrari. that's your new home -> y/nhamilton: i've got a year

lewishamilton: well... at least i made the photo dump (?) -> y/nhamilton: TWICE

sebastianvettel: since when do you have a cat? -> y/nhamilton: it's a reaction meme seb. i don't have a cat

ausgp: we'll be back next year!!

---

TAGLIST: @67-angelofthelordme-67 , @somepeoplemaybe , @nothaqks , @theforevermorereject , @thatonesblog , @deviltsunoda , @xoscar03 , @mess-is-my-aesthetic , @d3kstar , @bwormie , @ietss , @sapphiccloud , @helaenatargaryensfavoritebug , @urfavsgf , @evie-119 , @raevyng , @khaylin27 , @champomiel <3

send a message/comment/ask to be added to the taglist!

NOTE: fifth part is heree! if you guys want to see something that already happened in prev seasons, send in an ask/comment! i meant to have this out earlier in the week, pretend it takes place before today! don't forget to like + reblog <3

[sunfortune]

hiiii i recently watched kanthony (the so called bridgerton show or whatever) and was wondering if u have any fic recs... 👉👈🤭

okay i litchrally have never compiled a list bc i have read too many to keep them organized. but ill do it. Finally. for YOU.

first. my fav period setting fics <33:

tete a tete by caciopepebowl (14k~) this is REQUIRED reading to ME. its a quick read that explores kate and anthonys roles in their family. with an emphasis on KATE specifically bc of the additional hurdles of being a woman with limited funds. and anthony losing his mind on her behalf while shes breaking his heart by being like "the way i was treated was normal?? you dont know anything" and hes like "what? kate you deserved everything. you deserve ALL the love in the world!!" and shes all ">:( well if i do. you do too." . and hes like "oh. well...no. you see.. bc i suck" and shes like -_-. its really sweeeeeet and lovely <3) and really finally gave me the exploring of kates family issues that THE SHOW DID NOT!!!

the longest betrothal by caciopepebowl. (90k~) my FAVVVVV regency setting fic. its sooo good. its basically a continuation that fills in the gap AFTER they get engaged but BEFORE theyre married. and them trying SO hard to be normal about how in love they are lol. SO funny and sweet. and with IMMACULATE characterization

in vino veritas by wagamiller. (~10k) a one shot about kate going to a ladies society event and coming home drunk to anthony and him being soooo smitten with her. sauuuur cute. ive read this like 4 times <3 its soooo good

for reasons wretched and divine by penny_loaf. (~18k. locked fic. need an account.) basically kate and anthony get stuck in a time loop on that first day edwina is receiving suiters. they both think theyre alone in the loop and its depressing until they realize the other is stuck with them too. they try to break the loop and fail repeatedly. after a while they just give up and start fucking bc theres no consequences so who cares LOL. surprisingly tender and sweet

the harsh light of day by burnerraccount. (~22k. locked) explicit one shot. kate has the idea that they should fuck before they get married so theres less pressure on the wedding night. she decides all this without mentioning it to anthony (LOL). so she shows up at his house the night before their wedding. and his footman is like "theres a woman outside to see you" and he in all his goofy almost-married bliss is like "i dont want to see Any woman but my gorgeous, beautiful, amazing WIFE" and his footman is like "well. you see.. it is your wife. uh fiance" and anthonys like "[voice crack] huh ?". very FUNNY

green in its many hues by burnerraccount. kate and anthony decide they are going to be chaste and proper leading up to their wedding. they suck at it SO bad lol

next. modern AUS my best friends <33:

la semi dolce vita by caciopepebowl (~170k) my FAVVVV modern au of ALL time. kate is a private chef. anthonys family hires her when they go on vacation. hes being so normal about it. i promise. this is one of the best characterizations of kate AND anthony in a modern setting. with an extra emphasis on focusing on kate issues. and not JUST anthonys. which is what makes the dynamic sooo good. 10/10. hot. and i love LOVE <3

close encounters of the acutest kind by caciopepebowl (WIP ~74k. only incomplete fic ill put on this list i PROMMY. bc its by the prev author. and i Looove their writing and its sooo good so far <3) kate and anthony meet for the first time the DAY her dad died which is also the SAME DAY hyacinth is born. theyre both having a panic attack and end up running into the same empty hospital room to have it. are then intrinsically linked forever. as one is. run into each other multiple times over the years. with different feelings each time. and they are so normal (lying) <3. i love them

chosen & cherished by trash4ficsaboutlurv. (~42k) this is so underrated. kate runs a charity organization. anthony is CEO of whatever the fuck. she goes to his company when theyre holding some audition for what charity theyre going to invest in and kate is the last speaker and when its finally her turn he barely even pays attention. and shes exhausted and overworked and just oveeeer it All. so she ends the meeting and tells him to go fuck himself. LOL. genuinely really good. and hot <3

sidelines by ramarro. (~60k) this was THE quintessential kanthony modern AU in 2022. kates an artist who sees a picture of anthony on tinder and thinks he looks obnoxious (lol) but screenshots the photo so she can use his arms/hands for sketching practice. and then she see him and his grown ass on a date with her BABY sister. and shes like well i was right about him. and lets him know to his face how she feels (LOL). its wild. it slays. read it. theres an explicit follow up to it which also slays

three cities and we never lived here by ramarro. (~25k, ~40k) very different modern au where kate and anthony meet on vacation and are very casual with them both not looking for anything (genuinely for once lol) and then seeing each other multiple times over 2-3 years in different cities and still keeping it casual. but slowly slowly slowlyyyy it doesnt feel as casual as it used to. theres 2 fics in this. the first is kates pov. the second is anthony. both very good.

just go with it by suitsusboth. (~18k) kate when booking a flight sees the potential titles like ms, mrs, dr, and "viscountess" listed as a legit option and has a laugh like whos picking this goofy shit and accidentally clicks it. and then on her flight gets upgraded to first class next to anthony bc they assumed she was his wife. and he tries to be mad about it. but well. hes stupid for her in every universe so lol. funny and sweet

the air i breathe and the bane of my existance by the_loosest_moose. (image fic) these are textfics told through instagram, twitter, article and text message screenshots. with some regular text. would just check them out to gauge how you feel about the storytelling method. very fun reads once you get the hang of it

heirlooms by waterlilyrose. (~12k) modern au where kate gets anthonys ring stuck on her finger for days and has to wait to get it off. he is of course very normal about it

a devils love by irony_rocks. (~57k) this may not be for everyone but kanthony season came out around the same time as The Batman (2022) and as someone who was crazy insane about both. this was the MOMENT for me in spring 2022. its a crime mafia type au where kates character is inspired by selina kyle and the pebble lounge she worked at in the batman movie. and well. if youre about that specific combo check it out. its not a batman au

break point (series) by penny_loaf. (multiple. ~25k) this a tennis au which you wouldnt think would be that deep but it is and its sooooo good. it really delves into the pressure of the world its set in on top of the issues kate and anthony ALREADY have. and as an ANGST and crazy, complicated characters STAN...very GORGEOUS to ME <3 and hot

take me home by kendal_lynne. (~12k) romcom type explicit one shot where kate makes the mistake of telling anthony her ex couldnt make her come. and hes all like i can do it volunteer as tribute PLEASE PKLEASE PLEASE PICK ME CHOOSE ME PLWASEE etc

we never made a sound by writergirl8. (~4k) spy au that was soooooo good and sexy. i wish it was longer

with elaichi by serendipityinwords (~6k) the two biggest bitches at a dinner party find out they're soulmates. LOL. hilarious dialogue

theres probably more i loved that im not remembering rn and maybe ill update this but for now have fun! yippee <3

[chuuyaa-nakaharaa]

It's true! I never get tired looking at you. I could look at you for ages and you'd still be beautiful.

*rolling on the floor, groaning.*

— @dazaii-osamuu

Not again.. Get up you idiot!

[causenessus]

cold kisses

part 0.5. PINK DYE

PLAYING FROM KODZUKEN'S STREAM . . . i hope that you think of me by pity part (girls club)

prev. | m.list | next

extras <3

y/n woke up early and decided to text kenma immediately bc she was feeling a little nervous about everything

suna and iwa told her to ask casual so she was trying so hard to act normal she maybe failed a little

in her defense kenma also wasn't helping with how monotone he was and then a sudden smiley face bc kuroo saw that they were texting and immediately scolded him saying "why do you text like you've never experienced an emotion in your life? you need smiley faces or something"

kenma bought y/n flowers when they went out for coffee playing it off as "i thought it'd be cool to take a picture with"

he didn't even expect y/n to take a picture since nothing had really been released on her side about a boyfriend yet but she thought he was so sweet and wanted to post it anyway

kenma trying to be romantic and noya's i feel so sigma on the same page killed me for some reason

like two (2) people asked atsumu how working with y/n was and he took it as "i must tell the people how i feel about her and shoot my shot"

no ukai really didn't have to be in here but i love him okay i love my pretty princess and i wanted him in here as someone's father please tolerate me

ukai is the kind of guy that drops dad lore at the most random times like you'll be talking about something and then he's suddenly like "oh the stanley hotel? yeah i worked there for a few years 😐" (real story a drama teacher has dropped on me)

and the only way anyone can respond is "ukai ur a coach when did u have the time to work at the stanley hotel and why did u quit"

taglist: @rinheartshyunlix @kettlepop @eggyrocks @cr4yolaas @httpakkeiji @keioover @does-directions @calx-bdo @staygoldsquatchling02 @cherrypieyourface @iluv-ace @kitty-m30w @h3xi2g0n3 @mylahrins @thechaosoflonging @momoriii-i @localgaytrainwreck @a-pastel-edgelord @bugglesboop @polish-cereal @osakis-gf @whykirbo @phoenix-eclipses @faesix @ryeyeyer @starxq.zip @skylarkalchemist @kunimix @sereniteav @kodzubaby @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @r0seandth0rns @gysche @1lovestrawberrymilk @kitnootkat @seillarium @tamimemo @iheartpinky @myromanempiree @coldcigarette @eclipticnikki @squiishymeow @vivian-555 @cryptictheseus (form to be added to taglist! <3)

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Trial

I am back! With another drabble :D @spotaus are you ready friend :3

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

As always. No beta. We die in drabble land with these!

*------------------------------------*

Dust holds unto Nightmare as Error and Dream discuss how to easiest get to the realm of the gods. Something about needing a large enough portal but worrying about the traces that will leave.

Dust isn’t paying it much attention. Why would he when he is holding his baby?

Dust nuzzles Nightmare as Nightmare hums happily to lean into his hold. Very comfortable.

Cross hums “I am honestly shocked Ink didn’t have anything to say about the whole… us holding him and stuff. Normally people who we tell get hung up on that.”

Killer snorts “I don’t think we matter that much to him.” he nods to Ink and Dust follows his sights. Blue and Ink are talking and Ink seems to just be staring at Blue. Now that he thinks about it Ink hadn’t seemed willing to look away from Blue at all and- oh.

Dust tilts his skull “Since when does Ink have a crush on Blue?” he couldn’t remember ever noticing this behaviour in battle “Wait since when can Ink develop feelings without a soul.” Did he gain a soul somehow?

Horror shrugs “Not our problem.”

Killer nods “True! Just means he is willing to help because Blue wants it. Which works for us.”

Nightmare hums as he watches “Good for Blue. He has been interested in Ink for a long time now.”

Dust blinks and looks at Nightmare “You are six. How the hell do you know that for sure?”

Nightmare looks up and tilts his adorable little skull “I used to be an empath? Blue is not subtle with his feelings that he feels. Honestly how dream missed it for so long is what really confuses me.”

Dust hums as he watches the interaction. Yeah now he thinks about it it does make sense with how they acted before.

Cross pulls a face “Damn… Blue needs better taste in man.”

Killer laughs “For real.”

Dust shrugs “He is probably moronsexual.” Which just causes killer to laugh even more and lean against him.

Horror nods and speaks deadpan “A terrible loss. As no one can pick who they find attractive.” Killer gasps between his laughing as Dust just lets the other lean on him.

Nightmare leans a bit closer and pats Killer’s shoulder.

Killer keeps snickering but nuzzles Nightmare “I am okay… I am okay.” more chuckles sneak out.

At least they gods finally decide how they would get to the right realm.

One teleport later and they are in the realm of the gods.

And Dust must admit. It is fucking unreal to see the people you killed in another life as gods. Some very weird DeJa’Vu right there.

Those gods are staring at him. Mostly at Nightmare.

Dust pulls him closer and nuzzles the skull. Let them stare. He will fight all of them before ever letting Nightmare go.

Cross is shadowing him very closely and Killer walks by his side. Both pretty much having the ‘go not even fucking try’ vibe going on around them.

Dream keeps looking anxiously over his shoulder to check on Nightmare too. Blue pulls him along by his arm as Ink remains right by Blue’s side as well. Reaper is leading them through the area towards a large castle.

Dust frowns “What is it with gods and castles?”

Killer snorts “Think he is compensation for something?”

Dust snorts as Cross shoots Killer a glare “Not in front of Nightmare Kill!”

Horror chuckles “He has heard worse when he was an adult.”

Cross sputters “Doesn’t mean we have to continue making comments like it with him near!” he huffs.

Killer laughs.

Dust smiles along with their joking but can’t help but stay focussed on the looks thrown their way. Specifically at Nightmare. Dust rubs Nightmare’s back and spine and Nightmare just leans into his hold. Trusting him with everything that makes Nightmare him.

And Dust will not let anyone harm him ever again.

The rest of the walk is mostly silent but they get to this giant golden hall.

Reaper does most of the talking and Dust isn’t paying nearly enough attention. No the thing he pays attention to is his Nightmare holds unto him tighter. How Nightmare’s soul beat tries to speed up but Dust manages to coax it back to calming down again.

Dust pays attention again as the god version of Asgore speaks “I see.” he leans back “Very small domains compared to what you both did before. Strange choice.”

Dream looks mostly relaxed as he answers “Well it was a lot of pressure! We both want to take it easy and relax for a while. A long while.” And he smiles.

Asgore nods as he taps his chin. Dust can’t help but note he has the same tells as the Asgore he knew. The same behaviour and way of speech. Dust can tell Asgore is thinking about something else than what they are talking about. Asgore is looking thoughtful as he shoots Nightmare looks.

Dust remembers the story of the children and holds Nightmare closer.

Asgore smiles “Interesting that you made four acolytes! Quite the accomplishment.”

Nightmare shoots him a glance before pushing closer to Dust. Dust makes sure his arms are tightly locked around him. His body feels ready. His magic is ready. Dust isn’t even sure for what but Cross explained long ago that their powers work with their instincts.

If his instincts are telling him to be ready he will be ready.

Asgore nods “It can be rather disbalancing.” He looks proud of his word play “To suddenly find yourself weaker and without powers. Making acolytes as a good way to make defences but there are better options.” He smiles and waves a hand out “Your fellow gods!”

Killer snorts and crosses his arms “Nah. Dream already offered this idea but we got this.”

Dust just keeps watching Asgore.

Asgore frowns “You think you four mortals can raise a god? You are mistaken. The best for him would be to reunite with his fellow gods and remain here. Where others cannot easily reach.”

Killer growls but Dream is faster “No! He is happy and safe where he is! He doesn’t need protection from this realm.” He smiles nervously “this is just to make sure everyone knows his new role and position on it.” he smiles brightly. “With that done. It is best we leave again I think. We don’t want to overstay.”

Asgore frowns “It wasn’t arequest or question. He will remain here to relearn his powers the safe way. The way it is intended.”

Reaper frowns “asgore. He isn’t from this realm. You don’t get to decide this over him. This is beyond this universe-”

Asgore glares “I have decided.”

Dust glares and speaks calmly “If you try to steal him from me. I will kill you.”

Silence.

Every god in this hall is quiet.

Asgore laughs loudly “Oh such hubris. You give a mortal just a small powerboost and he thinks he can fight gods.”

Ink and Dream give each other nervous looks. They should know after all. That Dust was able to fight them long before he got this powerboost.

Dust just keeps staring at Asgore “I will kill you.” He turns to Cross “Cross?”

Cross knows and is by his side right away and he carefully hands Nightmare over to Cross. Nightmare takes  atight hold on Cross but looks nervously back to Dust.

Dust looks at Cross “No one can get him.”

Cross grins and disappears from view.

Dust watches closely as Asgore sits up fully and looks around shocked. As Dust had thought. Cross’s invisibility isn’t as much just invisible but becoming fully unnoticeable from an outside force. Even the gods can’t locate him easily.

Asgore waves out a hand “find hi-”

Dust doesn’t wait and summons a blaster. Aimed at the king of gods.

Once again silence in the hall.

Dust glares “Don’t. Finish. That. Sentence.” He cracks his neck “You want him? either of them?” any of his family? “You will have to go through me first.”

Asgore just looks at the blaster curiously. Still looking bored before focussing on Dust himself. He smirks “Oh I see. You are his first picked acolyte. No wonder you feel as if you stand a chance. You amuse me mortal. Stand down and maybe you will still be allowed to visit your god.”

Dust makes the blaster load magic “Goodbye.” And he shoots.

Asgore sighs and dodges, clearly more out of amusement than actual worry. And the blast misses. That is okay. Dust hadn’t wanted to hit him right away, this is a warning shot.

The blast obliterates the crown and wall behind him. It keeps going and Dust can now see the sky through the other end of the tunnel of destroyed walls.

Asgore looks back before staring at Dust “You should not have been able to destroy that.”

Dust hums and readies another attack.

Something attacks him from the side but Horror is faster and blocks it with his axe before forcing the other god away with a quick move of his arm.

Horror huffs unimpressed as he is clearly ready.

Killer grins widely as he pulls out his knife “You are aware that we were the ones assisting Nightmare way back right? With almost daily fights against Dream, Blue and Ink? You know. Two being gods themselves? Back before we got our powers?” Killer grins widely and leans on Dust’s shoulders. “You really want to challenge our claim over our babybones?”

Asgore readies a bolt of lightning but an arrow hits his hand. Asgore glares over and Dream has another arrow aimed. Dream glares and doesn’t bother to say a word.

Asgore stops and sighs as he rubs his face “This is idiotic. Do you really want a multiple god fight?”

Dust huffs “Then we don’t do that. You vs me.” The implication of the end of the fight is implied. Not that Dust ever plans on honouring it. He fully trusts that if he is about to lose Killer will use his silver tongue to help cheat Dust to victory and Cross and Nightmare will escape with Error’s help.

Dust just needs to distract him.

Asgore frowns “And if you lose?”

Dust shrugs “You prove you would be better at protecting him.” Not that it would matter much.

Asgore laughs and looks amused “and if you win?”

Dust raises a brow “I prove that you are weaker and we are perfectly able to protect Nightmare.”

Not that the end conclusion will be different. The only honourable one amongst them is Cross and Cross is ready to cheat to protect those he cares about.

Asgore laughs and gets ready “Very well. Everyone. Step back.”

Dream shoots him a nervous look “Dust.”

Dust looks at Dream and winks with the eye not in view of Asgore. He glances at Error and dream seems to figure out the actual plan. He still looks unsure but nods and steps back “show him what for.”

Ink grins and cheers “Kick ass! I would be pissed if you can defeat me but not that guy!” he leans towards Blue “Hey Blue? Who was the big goat again and why is he important.”

Blue snorts and laughs as the other gods look insulted.

Dust grins. They should take Ink to places more often, the guy is a riot to have around. Dust walks forwards as the others back up to the side of the hall. Asgore looks smug as he readies his weapon.

Dust takes a deep breathe and lets it out. The electricity in his body and along his mana lines. It is still a lot but it will feel amazing to actually go all out in battle instead of the careful discharges he has done until now.

Asgore attacks with his trident and a bolt of lightning shoots out at him. Dust holds up a hand and lets the lightning strike him headon.

A moment passes. Then the charge turns from the bright cyan to a purple of his own magic as Dust takes the electricity offered to him and makes it his own.

Asgore looks shocked as Dust lets the tiny sparks of lightning go between his phalanges. Dust looks up and hums “spicy.” Then he puts his hand on his blaster. The blaster crackles with magic and electricity as Dust grins “My turn.”

The blaster shoots out the blast, now containing some of Asgore’s own magic and powers.

Asgore dodges again but the damage is much worse than his first blast did. Dust doesn’t bother to turn as he just turns his neck and skull to keep staring at Asgore “You were saying about us being too weak to take on gods?” his blaster loads another attack “I couldn’t hear you over the sound of your bullshit.”

Asgore glares but seems to take him more seriously. Good. Dust hates it when others underestimate him.

Asgore throws more lightning and Dust just catches a few more bolts before taking the energy from those. Asgore frowns as he readies his own trident and blocks the blast send his way, even with blocking it still takes a chunk of his HP right out.

Asgore rushes him and Dust starts dodging the attacks. His body moves as he charges electricity to make sure to zap Asgore.

Dust smirks “Fascinating. Isn’t it? Aren’t you supposed to be like. The god of the sky or something? Shouldn’t you be able to handle electricity? Or.” He grabs his shoulders and channels the lightning right into Asgore. Electrocuting him “Or doesn’t lightning fall in your domain after all? just the sky that holds it? aren’t you mad about it? that a lowly mortal can so easily defeat you?” he makes sure to purr his sentence out. Rub extra salt into the wound.

He lets go of the giant and steps back to watch Asgore fall to his knees before him. His HP dangerously low. Dust readies a blaster and aims it at the so called king of gods “Done already?”

Asgore pants and glares at him but mumbles “fine… you win.”

Dust grins more “They can’t hear you…”

Asgore glares more but speaks louder with anger in his voice “Fine. You win. We. We won’t step in.”

Dust watches him before grinning “Much better.” he dispels his blaster and turns away. He hadn’t even needed to summon more than one blaster. Honestly why they called this guy the king of gods is beyond him. Nightmare could have defeated him back when he was still goop.

He joins his mates sides and Killer shoots him a look as he leans close “You look so hot when you fight. I barely could stop myself from throwing myself before you.” he has a grin on his face.

Dust raises a brow “Maybe at home.” For now he looks around and Cross appears. Cross has his own slight blush on his face as he hands Nightmare back before invading Dust’s personal space with a happy hum. Cross nuzzles Dust’s skull and neck with a happy hum.

He whispers “Killer is right… you are so hot when putting people in their place.”

Dust is starting to see a very fun evening ahead of him. A glance at Horror confirms he is three for three and Dust is even more impatient to get home.

Nightmare just looks at him with a grin “Knew you would defeat him easily.”

Error and Reaper talk a bit with Asgore and Dust can see Blue lean closer to Dream in shock “That is acolyte power?”

Dream shrugs “Apparently? I never met an acolyte before. I don’t know their rules.”

Ink meanwhile has wandered over to the destroyed walls as he picks up pieces to look at them. He grins back at Dream and Blue and rushes over before blabbering about how he could use this material and texture for stuff and if he can take it along. Blue shrugs while Dream laughs and tells him to ask the other gods. Ink cheerfully skips over to another god, who backs up from the skeleton, and asks them about the properties and if he can take a piece.

Huh.

Seems like Dust made quite the name for them. Especially with the only other skeletons they know to be gods of dead.

Dust probably made skeletons seem like terrifying creatures at this point. Which honestly? Probably for the best.

They end up leaving soon after. They are offered a meal but they politely decline. Mostly because they promised Life that they would join her for dinner after this trip.

They are walking back towards the spot to make the first one of a series of teleports as Dust hums “that could have gone better.”

Killer laughs “What? Could have finished it in one move or something?”

Dust nudges him “Not that. This was supposed to be a visit to get good standing with them and reintroduce Nightmare. I don’t think that all went well.” He just… the idea of these stupid gods who never helped Nightmare and never supported him taking him away from them? Dust got pissed.

Reaper shrugs “euh. It is fine. You proved that you won’t get scared away by anything and that you got the power to back you up.”

Dream looks worried “It is really fine? They won’t be a problem with Fate or Balance?”

Reaper nods “I am very sure it is safe. They will all prefer to seem like they supported you from the start over admitting you defeated them.”

Error nods “Those gods are obsessed with seeming perfect. They will just say how they were worried you would not be able to handle it and that they tested you. That they went easy to get an idea for your power. That you proved yourself worthy to defend Nightmare.”

Killer frowns “And Fate and Balance will be chill with it?”

Ink shrugs “Not exactly? But they will act that they are and not interfere… They like to appear put together and seem like they know everything. If they admit they didn’t see this coming they will have to admit they are not all knowing and they don’t like that.”

Reaper points at Ink “What he said. They know they won’t be able to just force Nightmare to change domains now without making a mess of a lot of things. And with you guys being more powerful than they probably expected they will be more nervous about stepping in. Even getting hurt or any of you getting one good hit will be a bad look on either of them because they are supposed to be untouchable.” Reaper grins “And you four already proved you aren’t afraid to go on the attack and you won’t be intimidated.”

Cross looks nervous “They already know?”

Dream shakes his skull “Not yet. But this information will spread. And eventually reach them. By then everyone will know about Nightmare’s new role and about what happened. They will be too late to force a change.”

Killer grins “So we are good right? it is over? We will be left alone now?” he looks hopeful.

Reaper shrugs “probably? We can only wait and see.”

Dream nods “I think it is looking good so far! They let me alone as soon as it became obvious everyone knew. I am very hopeful for this.”

Dust hopes it really is that easy.

They get to Life’s domain and are welcomed to the table which is covered with all kinds of delicious food. Dust relaxes in the safe area and helps Nightmare select some things to eat.

The meeting with reasonable well. Now there is just one meeting left to do and get over with. At least that should not get as aggressive. The council is never known to throw punches before talking after all.

*------------------------------------*

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

[minevn]

Hey bestie! Do you have any colored pictures of the redesign characters??? I wanna draw them like the headshots I did before

Sending my love 💞💕✨

SORRY IF THIS IS LATE!! I did not have any when you asked and I got to work, figured it was time anyways(ESP FOR AKI), even if they were just colored headshot sketches!

For the most part Hoshi's color pallet has stayed the same, I just added an ashy brown gradient to his hair since idk, I thought it looked good, but it can also be optional, idc LOL

Habiki has dyed hair, so normally his hair would be the same color as Hoshi's with the ashy gradient but he likes the darker look. Habiki also wears makeup, like full face makeup LOL Also it doesn't show super well but for the lighter strands in their hair it's supposed to look more white so it'd honestly be lighter, I'd use the highlight color as the base color lol

Kage pretty much looks the same, I'm still debating with myself if I wanna make his hair this orangish-red or the prev red color(cause i REALLY like the previous red color on them) so honestly I'm fine if you wanna draw them with their prev red hair!!

YIPPEE FIRST COLORED AKI DRAWING!! She pretty much just has Jun's color pallet but green LOL and she mostly just wear's blacks and greens, she's literally stealing Hoshi's color and pulling it off better cause Hoshi sucks💅✨

Kei's hair is just white, but it needs to be shaded with pink to give some kind of illusion of a pink undertone. Then Kei kinda wear neutral colors, kinda like Haruto, wearing beiges and browns since Kei kinda has to be professional

okay I REALLY didn't need to draw Yani seeing as they've just stayed the same through all the redesigns, BUT I thought this was a perfect opportunity to draw Yani in another one of their outfits!! So here's a lil doodle of their casual 4 outfit!! :3

Also for the whites and blacks and grays in both their clothes(and in really any of the Mine's cast's clothes) i personally like to use a REALLY dark or light shade of their signature color, but you can feel free to use whatever black white or gray you want to! Also they typically all wear black white and some shade of their signature color, but I'm fine with them being put in anything!

[hybeboyenthusisast]

☆ four ☆

prev / masterlist / next

dont miss the written part <3

wc: 1.1k

Your nose was so itchy. Normally the tickle of makeup brushes against your skin was completely fine, but today was different. You hadn't been nervous in the days leading up to today, but now you were. You were on edge; every little noise and movement had you on full alert. This was not great, as you were sitting in a crowded dressing room getting your makeup done. Every brush against your skin had you twitching, hyperaware of the ticklish feeling.

You had already been scolded by your makeup artist twice already for not sitting still, so you were working on zoning out and thinking about anything other than your debut in less than an hour. It wasn't working.

"You are so tense, girl, what's going on?" Yue placed a gentle hand on your arm, leaning forward ever so slightly so she could reach you from her chair. Her makeup artist followed with the small movement, no hesitation as she worked her magic.

You sighed, locking eyes with her in the mirror in front of you. "I'm just so nervous. This is really happening, it's not a dream." Yue nodded in understanding, squeezing your arm gently before letting go and sitting back in her seat next to yours.

The crowded dressing room consisted of Yue, Rae, Lizi, Chae, two stylists, three makeup artists, two hairstylists, your manager, and two Inkigayo staff members, as well as yourself. The room felt suffocating, and you were eager to leave and take a walk as soon as your makeup artist was done.

The whole room was bustling; everyone was busy doing one thing or another. Seeing everyone moving around in a rush was making you desperately wanting to escape and take some time to just slow down. You needed to breathe. It didn't help that your stage outfit squeezed your chest just a little too tight for your liking.

You thanked the universe as soon as your makeup artist was finished, rushing out of the room as quickly as you could. You weren't going far, no need to interrupt your manager's conversation with the Inkigayo staff. The hallway was much quieter, much cooler.

You walked a little way down in one direction, turning the corner and leaning against the wall. Closing your eyes and taking a few deep breaths, you could feel yourself slowly relaxing.

"Are you okay?" A gentle, worried voice startled you, making you jump. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

"No, no, it's fine," you assured, turning to face the person who had interrupted you. Your eyes widened as you realized you were looking at Choi Yeonjun.

Yeonjun smiled at you, and you felt like the whole world stopped. He was so damn fine; but you're not a fangirl! Well, you are, but you're an idol too. Can't scare off the first senior idol you meet.

"You're part of PROMISE, right?" Yeonjun asked you, his eyes wandering to your outfit before meeting your eyes again.

You nodded dumbly at his question, starstruck and internally yelling at yourself. He chuckled, finding you adorable. You wanted to slap yourself for acting like an idiot.

"Yeonjun hyung!" A shout from down the hallway had the two of you looking over for the source. This stirred you from your starstruck state, thankfully.

"Ah- it's so nice to meet you," You said as you bowed to your senior idol. "Yes, I am Y/N from PROMISE. I was trying to relax, I'm sorry if I bothered you."

Yeonjun bowed back, grinning at you. "No bother at all, I was out here doing the same thing. Are you nervous for your debut?" He ran a hand through his hair, leaning against the wall opposite you. His makeup hadn't been done yet, but he looked far more handsome in person than he ever did on a screen.

You swallowed thickly, the bundle of nerves tied up in your stomach making their presence known again. "Is it obvious?"

"Yeonjun hyung!" The voice calling for Yeonjun was closer this time, but said man did not looked bothered at all that someone was looking for him.

Yeonjun chuckled, the corner of his lips quipping up. "I was really nervous too. We all were, really. There's a lot of pressure, having all these eyes on you. That doesn't really go away, but it gets easier. Lean on your team, yeah? Nobody knows what you're going through better than those going through it with you."

You nodded, grateful and appreciative that he was spending the time to empathize and offer some advice. "Is that what you do, lean on your team?"

"Try to, at least. It's not always that easy, though, it can be hard when the same people you're leaning on are the same ones that just pissed you off three hours ago," Yeonjun smirked and shook his head at the thought of all the times that had happened. His gaze shifted to the side, lazily turning his head in the direction of the approaching footsteps.

Coming around a corner, your childhood friend cheered at finding his group member. "I win, I found you first!"

Kai Kamal Huening was much taller than you remembered. Given you hadn't seen each other in quite a few years, it made sense; but seeing the kid you used to be taller than was surreal. Bahiyyih said she would tell him you would be here tonight, but you didn't expect to actually see him. You stared up at him in wonder as he approached, stopping next to Yeonjun and bowing to you in greeting.

You bowed back, an affectionate smile rising on your cheeks as you admired how your friend had grown. His face was slimmer, sharper, but his eyes and his smile were exactly how you remembered them. "Funny seeing you here, Kai."

Yeonjun's eyebrows furrowed at the way you spoke so casually to Kai, glancing at the younger man. Kai's eyebrows furrowed as well, staring at you as he tried to figure out what was going on. "Yes...," He simply replied, trailing off as he had no idea what to say. "Yeonjun, time to come back. Ah-jin's getting really impatient waiting for you."

Yeonjun rolled his eyes and nodded, turning to you to say goodbye. "It was nice meeting you. I can't wait to watch your performance! Good luck!" Yeonjun, being rushed by Kai, left you with a smile and a wave.

You blinked as you watched them disappear around the corner, trying to understand what just happened. Did you say something wrong? Was Kai mad at you? Or maybe... did he not recognize you?

"Yah!" A smack to your shoulder brought your attention back from your thoughts. You whined in pain, rubbing your shoulder and glaring at Rae. Rae smiled at you innocently, as if she hadn't just whacked you. "I've been calling your name for like, 5 minutes. We gotta get going."

One deep breath in, and you nodded in determination. You would worry about that interaction with Kai later, but for now, it's time to make your debut.

Reconnect taglist (open): @windex-princess-ami

Permanent Taglist (open): @junnmizz @ashxxgyu​ @igotkpoops​ @xiaoderrrr​ @alyssajavenss @mintxts <3

[youmarin]

Now Recruiting! ft. Inarizaki VB Boys - Part 9: The Miya Swap

Summary: The twins are up for mischief once again.

Word count: 1,224 + Extra 13 [275]

A/N at the end of post.

prev. / series masterlist / next

During the late summer, Atsumu had stopped dying his hair. His decision had nothing to do with a certain 4?, 5? year old kid that had made fun of him a few months back. It was purely to keep his hair healthy after being out in the sun, the pool and the couple of times he went to the beach. And maybe a little because of the roasting too. 

The twins were both startled, Osamu almost dropping the towel he had just been using to dry his hair when they nearly ran into each other in the hallway.

Oh finally he got rid of that horrid yellow hair. 

 Apparently Osamu had had the same thought, and the grey dye was gone, leaving it all back to his natural brown hair.  But it wasn’t long until Atsumu started complaining. 

“Now we’re gonna get mixed up at school again.”  The ex-box dye blonde whined.

“Just run your mouth and they’ll notice the difference.” the youngest taunted. Then in a second, the idea almost shone on top of his head like in a cartoon. He slapped a hand over his twin’s mouth as if by reflex, knowing he would argue back and effectively shut him up. Atsumu frowned. “But it could be fun too.”

Atsumu swatted his hand away, “What? Pretending to be you? I don’t see any fun in that.” 

Osamu rolled his eyes, holding back.

 I share the sentiment.

 “Not that.” 

“Then what?” He thought for a moment, “Remember that time we tricked basically the whole school for a week and mom found out?”  They had at least done it once at each school they’ve been to, which amounted to 3 times. And then only in “emergencies”.

“Not that either.”” Osamu shuddered, remembering the scolding their mom gave them the last time (She found it a bit funny too but being the authority is hard work normally when it comes to the duo, so as mother Miya she has the responsibility to keep her boys in check. Concessions as such were dangerous and could end on a bigger problem. And now that they were older, she’d trusted they wouldn’t do it again. But they’d done it again last year. Of course she knew not everyone could tell them apart if they didn’t know the boys well. At times that might bother them too, so sometimes they would use that to have things go their way or make fun. After all, she knew them best).

“Then what?” 

Osamu grinned, “Y/n.” 

Atsumu brightened up and mirrored his brother's expression but then hesitated. Flashbacks of the training camp scheme came to his mind, the first and last time he’d done that to you. “I don’t know. She was very upset after the training camp prank.” And he’d suffered the most, both physically and emotionally. 

“That was because she thought we were hurt. But this one’s harmless.” He promised.

Atsumu scrunched up his nose, “Mmm… I’m still not sure…” 

“Forget it.”  Osamu waved his hand brushing it off. If nothing else worked, provocation would, “Pussy.”

“What was that?” 

-

Next week during morning practice, you found all the boys gathered around in a circle. They were having a discussion you couldn’t quite make out what it was about from your spot, some agreeing with each other while others argued back. 

“Kita- senpai, you really are okay with that?”

“Whatever happens, it’s on them.” 

“Please don’t tell on us, Aran-kun.”

“How are you even able to tell them apart?” 

A sigh, “Years of experience.” 

“What are you guys doing?” You asked, putting your bag down on the bench and walking over. 

The group broke apart at the sound of your voice, and there the twins stood in the middle, both smiling. And their hair. Their hair was back to their natural color. It made you think back to the little Miya twins in junior high. 

“They’re so alike it’s freak-ish.” 

“They’re- They’re twins. That’s what twins are like.” 

“And as if they weren’t freak-ish before.” 

At least on the court, it was easy for the others to identify them because of their positions and different play styles. But during the day is when the real messing around started. For a whole week, when you wanted to talk with one twin the other would take their place. But you pretended like you didn’t notice because three could play that game. Atsumu wouldn’t say anything, but by the third day he started to grow a little annoyed by you not being able to tell them apart. He thought you would be able to with you having been around them for months now most of the day.

Come lunch, you were walking around the school yard after eating. Atsumu spotted you from a window on the hallway of the second level of the building and decided against returning to his classroom. 

“Ah, Osamu.” you smiled at him, a playful glint in your eye he failed to notice. Why did he agree to do this again? Ah, sure, it was supposed to be fun. And it had been. At least at first.

“Hi.” his voice came naturally quiet. Maybe this was affecting him too much; he was already sounding like his twin.

“Is everything alright?” 

“Yes.” he said a bit too abruptly. “Yes. It’s just- I saw you from inside and thought I’d join ya.” 

“Sure.” you smiled at him again. You walked around together in silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but so unlike him it felt a little odd. And you’d noticed his mood had been down. But he still kept the façade. 

You sighed, “Atsumu.” 

“Hmm?” Something was totally bothering him. He had completely spaced out. It took him a moment to notice his slip up. “Wha- I’m not-”

“‘Tsumu, I know  that it’s you. I’ve known the entire time.” You chuckled while you watched him open and close his mouth like a fish out of the water. 

“You did? Then why…”

“You tried to mess around with me first so I decided to mess with you too.” 

Atsumu laughed heartily.

“What were the tells?” 

“Mmm…” You turned to face him as you pretended to think. “Your voice. It’s just a tad higher pitched than Osamu’s.” He froze as you stepped closer, looking him in the eyes. Very close. He gulped. “Your eyes. They are warmer than his.” Stepping back again. “Apart from the obvious resemblance, you two are different.” You shrugged as you continued your walk, while he tried to hide his furious blush by turning his face to the side. But he was happy to be done playing this game. 

When he recovered, he returned to being his usual self, “So ya been stealing looks at me?” making you chuckle, then your laughter slowly died down as one particular memory resurfaced. A summer night, Atsumu in front of you after you finally reunited with the whole team, the light from the nearby stand bringing out the color of his eyes. Well, that moment had been enough to notice all the little things.

You felt heat start to rise up to your face and reach the tip of your ears. 

Fortunately, the bell rang signalling the end of lunch break and the beginning of afternoon lectures. He smiled at you from further down the hallway before you both entered your respective classrooms. 

-

Extra 13: The Miya Swap Technique Reveal: Academic Safe! 

Ding! 

They fetched out their phones to see a text message notification from Suna. 

Japanese Lit. teacher dropped a surprise quiz today. 

Sharing a look, Osamu saw the horror flash in Atsumu’s eyes. He hadn’t reviewed his notes at all. Damn, he’d barely been able to finish his summer homework on time. The second term had started not too long ago. Why would they be having a quiz so soon? 

“Cover for me, please?” 

“What’s in it for me?” 

“I’ll do our next English exam for you.” Even if that meant getting his own grade down. Atsumu could say he’d at least improved his English. He knew his was better than Osamu’s.

“Nah. Not an exam.” It was risky pretending during a quiz, but if they got caught (which they hadn’t been so far) they wouldn’t lose as many points.  During an exam was a different thing. They could easily fail the class. “You’ll do my English homework for two months.” 

“Two months?!”  He scowled. He considered his options. He’d rather start with a higher grade now, slack off later during the term and do enough just to pass than with a sad grade that he’ll need to drag himself out of and up. 

He sent a quick text to Suna.

How many points is it worth?

A response almost instantly.

40pts. 

Okay, that was sadistic. That teacher was terrible.

“You’ll have to get me at least a 35. If you get me a grade lower than 30 you’re getting only one month of homework.” Getting a perfect score would bring suspicion.

“I’ll get ya a 36. And I get two months of homework.” 

“Deal.”

A/N: Hello, dear readers! It's been a while (since January I think?). Life's been pretty uneventful on my side. I've been sick for like a month now (I'm sick of this cough that won't leave me alooone!I feel like that yellow cat meme. You know which one I'm talking about I'm sure). Also, the heat sensation reaching a little more than 100 degrees for most of this month... We're melting here. Summer hasn't even started. It's always like summer here anyway. I want Fall to come already to see if the temperatures go down (like in this fall chapter. I'm always out of season here lol). This one's for the Miya twins (and well, Atsumu stans, enjoy this one. It's me. I love him). It's short. Probably the shortest after Part 1. But cute imo. And I wrote most of it on Tuesday and it's already going up? No overthinking for months like with the last part? I want to think Atsumu didn't bleach his hair until he got older?? Maybe Timeskip Tsumu? When it actually looks good? XD I love him but that doesn't mean I won't roast him. Cuz I don't think he would start doing that to his hair at what? 15 yrs old? Also, for the sake of the chapter and looking for it to make sense (am I making sense? JAJA). Not me looking up stuff about hair dye and bleach bc I've never dyed my hair and it remains its virgin black color. And at the end thinking it ain't that serious. The search history tho. To end this long ass note, a lil fun fact: Where I'm from, we call people with non-natural blond hair "rubio/a de farmacia" which is "pharmacy blond/e", mostly if it is very noticeable that they aren't real blondies or if it doesn't suit them. 💀 But also joking. I don't know, it has always been funny to me. The phrase has been around for a long time but I remember during 2017 was it? I was still in high school, the national baseball team dyed their hair blond and a lot of people did in support. So there were pharmacy blondes everywhere. A lot of students did too. Man that was so bad. 😭😂 Anyways, hope you are well, and enjoy your reading. Until next time! - Youmarin

[wolfiwonderer]

Tonny is sus

In honor of the new chapter and questionable decisions, I'm going to deep dive on Tonny and why I think his innocent look is a front.

He believes he's the good guy (which honestly, confidence in one's righteousness is a red flag that Julia (prev), Tonny, and Sahed all share). The Tonny that he presents cares about each member of the circus, hates taking their lives at the beginning and end, and has sweet innocent thoughts about Julia. I think he really believes that.

I love Tonny as a character btw, super excited to see where this goes.

Tonny does not really care about the people in the circus.

The oldest history we've been told is that they were in a castle. An old woman knew about them and funneled people there for money. Tonny gave them an offer to tie themselves to the castle for eternity to protect them from pursuit.

Okay, but everyone in the castle is miserable. Tonny looks miserable. The people around him do. He clearly isn't too worried about the woman directing people to him. So why is he signing them up when he has been shown that they will break down?

It seems like there must be some kind of compulsion that means Tonny needs to add people to the pact continuously. If he's really burdened by giving them happiness, then he wouldn't sign up for more work.

2. Tonny is not that bothered by taking people's lives.

Okay, first of all, I don't know how you could keep killing people twice and not prove that you don't actually feel bad about it. He has many options other than killing people.

Most of this being bad is predicated on Tonny knowing that there's a cost after their second death, but given how hard he claims to be working to stop people ending their lives (particularly to people who have been around for a while), I think he knows something of it.

Mr. Finnegan is the epitome of Tonny's immoral sign up practices. I have no doubt that Tonny thought he was doing the right thing, but a good 30 second think on Finnegan's motivation shows that it's a terrible idea. The entire reason that Finnegan wants to sign up is to spend more time with his wife. What exactly did Tonny think was going to happen when the wife died? It was going to happen, since he didn't sign both of them up (also, why not?). He had to know that Finnegan was a short term stay.

Mr. Finnegan is the 'youngest' of them all, which makes me wonder how many people have come and gone in the last hundred years. Sahed would probably be somewhere around his age if he aged normally, so he's the next youngest we know outside of Camille and Julia.

Speaking of Sahed, we also know that he made some kind of promise to him that convinced him to sign up.

Sahed has had the same goal for a long time and he thinks Tonny betrayed him. I'm inclined to believe him - even if I'm sure the details of what he asked for were impossible. Tonny agrees with him that Ah'kon deserve equal rights. He also seems sad about the hate against them in a way you don't see from other characters. But, his logic that it is too dangerous to taken them in seems weird when he also took in Dotty while police were after her. Sahed's intake couldn't have been risk free considering he's a legendary level escapee.

I could see this being a savior complex. He 'solves' the problems presented to him with the hammer he has. He signs up to fix problems he can't and then when he doesn't deliver, he hides behind all the other promises he's made. But it's like he' s a married man with a secret family and it's somehow the family's fault he wasn't faithful when they find out about the other.

3. Julia is not safe with Tonny

This is full on theory/prediction and I want to talk about some phone fast pass episodes, so putting it under the cut.

Honestly, Camille kind of called this out in the last episode. Julia has said that Tonny is keeping her close and he has a certain possessiveness. He shows signs of feelings (for no apparent reason than chemistry though? Like do they have much in common? Julia wants to not die but also not be a bad person. Tonny wants ???), and that could be explanation. But I get antsy about a guy who wants a woman to center her life around him. But if that was all, I wouldn't be quite so suspicious of him.

Tonny has admitted that Julia is in the middle between him and someone else, but then, like... doesn't explain. He's said full trust, but she's just hoping he will make her not die, when he has a history of breaking promises (other than killing people, he's got a good record on that, seems to be the go to solution for everyone at the circus). I can't help but think that the reason he hasn't elaborated on the true details of anything to Julia, and likely to everyone, is that it is something horrible.

[bts-0t-7]

So What? | MYG | Chapter 12

Pair: Hybrid Cat Yoongi x F Reader 

Summary: Running from a past that foreshadows him, Yoongi is adamant about ever turning back to his human counterpart form, in hopes that nobody would recognise him and take him away. You worked at a cafe with your best friend. As a more-than-normal day seemed to go by, you discovered something amidst your housing block. Perhaps - just perhaps, the nighttime is where the angels arrive. 

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hybrid, non-idol au

Warnings: Contains explicit language, abuse

Chapter Warnings: Explicit Language 

WC: 2K

Taglist: @bearr02 @svnbangtansworld @vintageoldfashion @rkivemaar @bontensbabygirl @codeinebelle @ldysmfrst @idkjustlovingbts

A/N: Seokjin is too smart for his own good in this chapter, sir is piecing everything together without piecing! Jin is literally giving advice - older brother advice. Hehehehhee… DO NOT COME FOR ME AT THE END OF THE CHAPTER PLEASE - 

< Prev. Series Masterlist. Next > 

Seokjin knew talking to you now would be useless so all he did was listen intently to any abnormalities in the bathroom and when you were finally done, he carefully dried your hair.

“Let’s go to bed.” You refused to move. Seokjin turned back to you. “Are you hungry?” You nodded. “Okay, I have some leftover dinner, let’s go eat.”

You trudged behind him as the both of you walked out to the kitchen. Seokjin took an extra set of utensils and some rice, placing it in front of you. “Let’s eat. Dinner today is braised pork made by - obviously yours truly - and kimchi.” Jin ruffled your hair. “Not much, but just enough.” 

You nodded and dug in. As Jin watched you eat, it reminded him of how you were in your middle school days when people bullied you for not being just like them. You constantly came over - not caring for the long distance between your school and his home - and cried to him. Back then, you were young, and couldn’t understand why Eomma*1 and Appa*2 aren’t there, having to live in the dormitory instead of come home to Oppa*3. As you grew older, you understood, learning to stand strong by yourself as well. 

However, dongsaeng*4 is still dongsaeng. You were still his little sister and he still had a responsibility over you no matter how old you were. It hurts to see you in pain. Seokjin no longer had the appetite to eat, he just watched you gobble down the food, eyes rimming with a new wave of unshed tears. 

Once you were done, he picked up the dishes and placed them in the sink, leading you back to the bedroom. 

“Oppa, I’ll was the dishes -” 

Seokjin was quick to stop you with a soft hold on your shoulders. “Oppa will do the dishes tomorrow morning. Let’s go to bed now.” Seokjin could see the hesitancy in your eyes. So he said, “Oppa is tireddd,” he whined. “Would you cuddle with your, big brother?”

You sighed and nodded, losing the battle between mind and body. 

You woke up to a wave of pounding headaches. Your face felt puffy and your eyes sore. You sighed, remembering why you ended up in your brother’s home. Slowly, you got out of bed and did your morning routine. Seokjin kept quite a few of your things in his house, knowing that more times than not, you’ll come home with him after work. 

Before Yoongi, you spent more time with your brother than in your own house. So, when you started living on your own, Seokjin had kept a few of your stuff in his house, claiming that you’d need them when you were to come over again. This leads you here now, looking at the bottles of skincare that sit on the countertop of his washroom basin.

Yoongi.

Just his name sends a wave of agony to your heart. He may no longer want you and by the end of today, he will most probably be deemed as a free hybrid. There is no need for you in his life any longer. You felt a fresh wave of tears brimming at your eyelids and you tilted your head back, frantically blinking to stop them from falling. 

You were brought out of your self-wallowing when you heard a knock on the washroom door. “Y/N? You in there?” Soekjin called out. 

You took a deep breath. Your brother didn’t need to know that you were about to break down in his washroom. “Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute.” 

“Okay. Lunch is on the table, come after you’re done!”

“Okay!” You replied back, quickly finishing your routine and putting on your clothes. You’ll put on your makeup after lunch. 

You exited the bedroom with a deep breath. You were going to make it through today like yesterday didn’t happen and cry tomorrow. You were not going to let Yoongi cloud your judgment for the verdict hearing later. And no matter how much he doesn’t want you, if the verdict pleads that Robbison is not guilty, you are going to fight tooth and nail to ensure that Yoongi and the other hybrids get their spot in this cruel world. 

“Y/N, good to see you’re not crying,” Seokjin said with his mouth full of rice. 

“And I see Oppa still talking with his mouth full of food.” You shot back, sending Seokjin into a bellowing laughter. 

“Good one.” 

The both of you ate lunch together in front of the television, letting the narrator for the show fill over the stiffening silence in the house. As you stood over the sink to wash the dishes and Seokjin stood beside you to dry them, he suddenly said, “To a certain extent, I don’t know what happened. But Y/N, it is not healthy to keep emotions stored away like this. It doesn’t matter what society views you as. Perception is key. There is no right from wrong when one views it from a certain perspective.” Seokjin bent down to store the plates in their respective places. “We both know the percentage of winning this case. Are you ready to let Yoongi go? Can you let him go?”

You stared at your brother.

“You always put on this facade when we go out, when you’re with friends, working, studying, I have seen it.” Seokjin sighed and leaned against the counter. “But I’d like to tell you, when you’re home, whether with me or any other person, let it down. It is important to take a break. I literally changed your diapers when you were a baby,” He snickered. “I’ve seen you grow up when Eomma and Appa aren’t here. I’ve been through your odd times with you. I don’t care if you feel the need to hide from others but I hope you won’t hide from me any longer.”

Seokjin was hardly ever so serious. He has always been the more carefree, go-with-the-flow type of person. There were only a handful of times you’ve seen him so serious - many of the times is when you come home from school with a bad report card or when he gets a call from the school stating you skipped class. 

“But Oppa, it hurts, that’s why-”

“Everything hurts, my dear,” Seokjin stated frankly. “In this world, everything hurts. It is only when we grow used to the hurting that we don’t feel the pain any longer. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t there - it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t make you bleed.”

Of course, the course of living and finding meaning will never be easy. It was never easy for a newborn to walk, so it will never be easy for an adult to navigate the world. It takes time, patience, and learning - one step at a time.

And for the second time in the past 24 hours, you crashed into your brother, crying into his hold. 

Seokjin caressed your hair, muttering words of comfort. The both of you ended up cuddling on the couch for the next few hours before rushing out of the house in a fit of laughter when Hosoek called and asked, “Where the fuck are you guys? I said to come two hours early! You’re both really late!” 

The both of you had then sprinted to change and grab everything you could, running down to the car. “And what the hell happened yesterday? Yoongi is a mess!” 

Your heart ached at the thought of Yoongi being hurt, the worry making Hoseok’s berating go right over your head. Worried was probably not the right word in the dictionary to use when you reached the courthouse, spare ten minutes before the verdict hearing begins.

You saw many familiar and unfamiliar ones. As per usual, all the hybrids testifying sat in front of their respective lawyer and owners. You had been squished between Jin and Jimin again, this time Jimin brought Ji-Hyun along. She leaned over her husband’s lap, holding your hand as she comforted, “It’s gonna be okay.” 

Jimin squinted his eyes at you. “The talk did not go well, did it?” 

You shook your head. 

“Yeah, that’s visible. You looked like you cried and ocean and our dearest Yoongi over there,” He pointed to the stands, “Look like a fricking wreck, I’m not even kidding. He looked so horrible when Hoseok came in that I thought he was sick.” 

“Cried himself sick probably,” Ji-Hyun said. “His eyes are red and his tail is constantly tucked between his legs, ears pressed down.”

Right there, you felt bad. Really, really bad. You should’ve just told him after the verdict. You didn’t have time to think of any more ‘what ifs’ when the judge came in, making everybody stand and the air in the room immediately pulsated with anticipation and fear. 

“With L/N Y/N-ssi’s hold over Min Yoongi-ssi, from the court, he is given two choices. One, Min Yoongi-ssi is allowed the title of a free hybrid by the State of Law and Hybrid Assosciation, under the thirteenth segment of the fourth amendment of the Hyrbid Rights Acts, that he is given the free will to do as he wishes and will not be held against him. Two, he is allowed to retain the hold that L/N Y/N-ssi’s over him and remain a taken hybrid.”

Y/N’s heart cracked little by little when she heard the verdict. You knew what was going to happen, Seokjin asked you earlier as well. 

You knew that the court provided him choices but your overthinking brain just thinks of the worst. No, no, you knew you weren’t ready to let him go. Heart cracking at the verdict, you held in your emotions. Seokjin had told you earlier - asked you. 

You so desperately wanted Yoongi to turn around and look at you, even if it’s just the side eye. Whether his eyes are full of hate or nothing at all, you don’t care. You just wanted him to look at you. 

But he didn’t. Not once did he turn around and meet your eyes. After the hearing, he and all the other hybrids left the room, escorted by a group of lawyers and bodyguards. You wanted to go to him, feet moving on their own accord until Hoseok stopped you. “Y/N, you’re not allowed to follow. Only the hybrids and their lawyers.” You started to fuss. 

“Y/N, come,” Seokjin called out to you. 

“They’re just signing some papers, don’t worry. Namjoon will make sure that what he signs is right.” Hoseok tried to calm you. 

You tried to stay strong - you truly tried - but you couldn’t help the tears that started to flow down your cheeks. You couldn’t even give Yoongi a proper goodbye. But would Yoongi even want you to? After the way ‘the talk’ ended last afternoon, all you could do was watch Yoongi’s back grow further and further from you. You turned your head into your brother’s embrace, ignoring looks of sorrow from all others. 

Seokjin carefully leads you out of the courthouse, taking the other exit to ensure that you won’t be bombarded with cameras and microphones in your faces. You weren’t ready to give statements in your state anyway. You were silent throughout the ride home, only telling Seokjin to drop you off at your house. 

It was only when you entered the silence did it fully hit you. Yoongi may be a free hybrid by now, and want nothing to do with you. He could do whatever he wanted and didn’t need you tying him down. You trudged to your bathroom, stripping as you walked in, finally letting yourself cry at the final goodbye you will never give. 

Notes: *1 Eomma refers to mother in Korean. *2 Appa refers to father in Korean.  *3 Oppa refers to an older brother in Korean (female saying). Males call their older brothers ‘hyung’.  *4 Dongsaeng refers to younger siblings in Korean. 

[whumpsday]

(Okay I kinda feel like I'm spamming you but I wanna pet Kane again so I'll indulge myself once more... and then I'll stop. For a while.

Also you said blood pack but I gave him a plastic bottle.. like a water bottle that I put blood in. And you said he ripped it open so I'm gonna take the misunderstanding and run with it)

I come back again a few days later and I'm again wearing an extra flannel around my waist. It's the same one from the first time, now thoroughly washed and repaired if/where needed. I tell him to give me my flannel back and give him the other one back. Then I ask for the bottle back. If he tries to explain/beg/apologize I tell him to shut the fuck up. When he shows me the torn up bottle, I sigh frustratedly. "I was gonna keep refilling that for you, but if you're so ungrateful as to fucking destroy it... the flannels I get, that's not your fault, but.. really? Dude, come on. Maybe you don't deserve the flannels either..." I don't mean the last part but I think the panic in his face is fun.. if he tries to beg I tell him to shut up though. Regardless, I sit down, and say "come here". I sit with his head in my lap and I stroke his hair. I tell him off for being tense and hold my wrist in front of his face. "If I let you drink, will you be able to relax?"

prev

Kane gives you the flannel without begging this time. You have earned his trust, and he looks at you in total adoration, openly excited for your visit. It's the only joy he has in his life. He even smiles as he greets you: a small one, but it's the first time anyone here has seen him do that. He looks a better than he did the last time you saw him, several wounds having healed much faster than normal. He hands you a bottle that's been clawed open and licked clean.

When you immediately berate him and threaten to take away any future food and clothing, the smile vanishes from his face, all that hope and joy and trust dying in an instant. He stumbles over himself to apologize, going right to begging for another chance, but stops when you tell him to. At that point, all he can do is keel over and quietly sob.

Kane isn't as tense this time, when you make him lay in your lap. He isn't as hungry. He knows that won't last. He's already starving again, just not enough that he needs extreme effort to control himself. He can't stop crying, his body wracked with sobs.

But you offer your blood to him again after all, your threat a bluff in the end. He doesn't dare speak, terrified of angering you again, nodding profusely. As he gratefully drinks, he almost doesn't care if you take his clothing away. Almost.

(you're not spamming me! but i prefer to do anything more than like 2 or 3 rp-asks in dms, so please dm me! i'm having a great time with this and would love to hear from you, 💜!)

[queerism1969]

Things you should know before having SEX

There is absolutely nothing rude or accusatory about asking a new partner about their STD history

Use both a barrier method (male or female condom) AND a hormonal method for the best bet at preventing pregnancy

When you’re considering stopping using condoms with a partner, you can ask them if you can go together to get tested first

Don’t have sex with anyone who would hesitate to slow down or stop if you want to or who would be angry or upset with you because of it

Get tested regularly, every 1–3 months

You can go on PrEP if you feel you are truly at risk of getting HIV

Look at your partner and make sure they do not have cold sores, if they do, don’t kiss/do oral with them!

Always meet in public first

Have boundaries and don’t be afraid of kicking someone out/leaving

It’s easier and cheaper to change condoms than diapers.

If you're planning on having a lot of casual sex, you must accept that you will be exposed to STIs. 

There is no such thing as safe sex - just risk reduced.

Pinch the reservoir tip of a condom as you slide it down the penis to make sure there is enough space for the semen to collect 

Oral/vaginal/anal sex all have STD risks.

Do NOT use oil-based lubricants with a condom

Abstinence-only is a terrible idea, and statistics show it: STD rates and teen pregnancy rates are higher in areas with abstinence-only sex education programs.

Some people enjoy a little acting or role-playing during sex so it helps to have a pronounced safe word that nobody will say by accident.

Don't dominate on the first physical meeting.

Don't introduce new, undiscussed elements into a scene in the heat of the moment.

Dental dams for oral sex, surgical gloves with LOTS of lubes for fingering, trim your nails, and wash your hands.

Vagina penetration isn't going to be as easy, like they show in porn

it's essential to clean off the semen before putting on another condom. 

Buy plenty of condoms

Pee after sex as it is important to prevent UTI.

Throw out everything you see in porn, it's unrealistic and most of the positions are not possible or enjoyable as they look on camera.

Have plenty of foreplay before penetration 

When you get on the pill, ask your doc how long that pill takes to be effective.

Cum will drip out of you, and you will look silly waddling to the bathroom to go pee and clean up

If you take any kind of antibiotics, it will render your birth control pills ineffective for the rest of that month. 

Never be ashamed to have cleanup supplies near your bed.

Doing kegel squeezes in the restroom really helps push most if not all the cum out.

Two people with a vulva can give each other STIs.

Let someone know where you are and when you'd be back. 

Your hookup doesn't have to be for penetrative sex

Don't drink anything you're handed that you don't see poured and doesn't leave your sight. 

Oral sex is very risky for things like gonorrhea, chlamydia, and syphilis (especially syphilis and pharyngeal gonorrhea).

Asking for Snapchat always does a good job of weeding out the fakes.

Always bring your own condoms and lube

Always let the person know that you’ll only have sex with condoms before meeting up

Obtain pepper spray just in case you’re put in a dangerous situation.

Clean your toys appropriately, and make sure it's body-safe material (if it starts to smell even after cleanings, throw it away). 

Be sure to use the correct kind of lube 

For any kind of sex, there generally shouldn't be pain. If there's pain, something is probably wrong. 

If you brush your teeth before doing oral, wait till the minty flavor is gone before going down on them

Your pubic hair is normal and healthy. Trimming is fine, shaving I recommend a lot less.

Sex is a marathon, not a sprint

Not liking sex is okay.

HIV is no longer a death sentence. With proper treatment, your viral load can be so low that transition is impossible. You'll have to manage it for the rest of your life, and your partners would have to take PREP and HIV prevention drugs.

If you decide to practice kink, be aware that consent becomes much more explicit and requires a lot of prep to properly establish. Without consent, it's just abuse.

[corazondebeskar-reads]

well it's love, make it hurt - chapter eight

well it’s love, make it hurt series

eight: all the better to hold you down

series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

dom!Din Djarin x sub!f!reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: You and the Mandalorian wake up after your late night at Axis and have to deal with what comes after your boundaries have been eroded.

Warnings: bdsm, heavy bdsm scene, use of a safeword, delayed aftercare, dom!Din Djarin x sub!reader, soft dom!Din, Din Djarin takes the helmet off but does not reveal his face, oral (m receiving), p in v unprotected sex, impact play, flogging, caning, boot worship (no foot fetish), emotional distress, hurt/comfort, subspace, subdrop, domdrop, no y/n

Originally written for Kinktober Days 15&16 - Boot Worship/Genital Worship/Impact Play/Sound Restriction, inspired by @absurdthirst’s wonderful prompt list,

also on ao3

3 ABY - Winter

You wake cocooned by peace and satin sheets. Mando’s warm body is pressed against you, and everything is still dark. At some point in the night, he removed his shirt, and now your bare backs are aligned where they curve. The ebb and flow of his breathing lulls you back asleep.

The world is still coming into the day when there’s a knock at the door. You’re awake enough to feel Mando slip out of bed, to hear the soft murmur of voices, to hear the whisper of the door being carefully shut. When he climbs back in, he moves slow and careful, settling on his side so he can wrap his arm around your waist and curl to the arc of your spine.

You slide your hand under his and weave it in, bringing them up to your mouth so you can kiss his long, thick fingers one by one. He groans his contentment, pulling you closer, and you nestle into his warmth.

Your head is empty, filled with fog and candy floss. It’s strange, how normal the moment feels. At home—or, well, on the Crest, you share a bed but do not linger. Mando is an early riser, and you don’t usually handle stillness or silence well.

You feel languid. Heavy, like a thick wool blanket, your limbs unspooled elastic. You can’t remember a time when just existing was so easy.

Mando’s breathing has slowed again as he walks the edge of sleep.

There’s pounding at the door again.

Mando groans and rolls over. You push up to your elbows and watch as he gropes around on the floor and then shoves his tunic at you.

“It’s Mara, with caf. She said I better have proof of your well-being when she got back.”

You tug the tunic over your head, smiling.

When you open the door, Mara is indeed waiting with a tray, mugs, and a carafe. You reach for it, but she pulls it back.

“You look well fucked,” she says bluntly.

You blink at her through sleep-heavy eyes and realize you must look ragged. You flush, and she grins.

“Everything okay still?”

“Yeah,” you say, and smile. “Yeah, we’re good.”

“Good. Madame said you can hang around as long as you’d like, as long as you say goodbye before you leave.”

“We will. Thank you.”

She finally lets you have the tray and goes to leave, but turns around. “Oh, and Madame said to tell him that she made a call and found another lead.”

You nod, expecting the gears in your head to start whirring about the bounty, but there’s nothing. The thought comes and goes.

You make two cups of caf, both sweetened with a little milk. He may drink black caf most of the time, but you know he has a sweet tooth.

He’s lounging against the headboard now, watching you.

You raise an eyebrow when you go over to set his cup on the nightstand.

“Looks good on you,” he says, nodding his head at where his tunic hangs on your body.

“It’s not the first time I’ve worn your clothes,” you say, taking your cup around to the other side of the bed.

“Looks good every time,” he says. He watches as you settle on the floor, back against the bed, facing the wall. “What’re you doing down there?”

“I thought maybe this way you could have your caf? I promise I won’t turn around. That way, neither of us has to have cold caf, but I can leave the room or—”

He takes pity on your nerves and cuts off your rambling. “Thank you, cyar’ika.”

You hear the hiss of the helmet seal and freeze. You can hear him shift on the bed and pick up his cup, taking a deep inhale and equally deep drink. Sipping at your own, you become very interested in the wood grain, searching out where the incidental black smudges form faces or creatures if you stare long enough.

When he’s done, which is too quickly, you think, for him to have fully enjoyed it, he replaces the helmet and reaches over to comb his fingers through your hair.

“A sweet drink, a sweet girl. You’re going to kill me, cyar’ika.”

You lean your head back to catch his hand, seeking the comforting cradle of his warm palm. Your brain has gone all fuzzy again, like it was only capable of coming up with the one plan today, and now it’s done.

“You still feeling under a little?”

“Mhm,” you close your eyes and set the cup to the side.

“You want to stay there, or do you want me to help you up?”

You know he doesn’t mean the floor. There’s the smallest of tugs in the back of your brain, like a little flashing light on the Crest’s console out of the corner of your eye. You look away from it and reach for him.

He helps you climb back up into the bed, and brings you to his chest. You run your hand through the smattering of hair there and press soft kisses to his skin. He lets out a deep sigh and leans his helmet against the headboard.

“You’re so sweet and obedient this morning,” he muses, running a thumb back and forth across your bottom lip. You let them part but don’t seek out more. “Look at that,” he’s whispering now, voice catching on something you can’t identify. “Is that what you want? You want to just lay there and let me take?”

You hum noncommittally. It sounds wonderful, but serving him caf had opened a yearning in you. You want to please him, but more than that, you want to offer yourself up as sacrifice, want to bleed for him, want to deserve the reverent way he’s talking to you now.

It seems too heavy to put into words.

So you don’t.

Later, you’ll sit on the floor of the fresher and weep, knees pulled to your chest. Later, you’ll give that feeling a name that feels like acid in your throat. You’ll try to purge it, as if you could cry out a toxin, and let it seep through the drain to be reclaimed as something nonpotable.

But for now, you look up at him with wide eyes, hoping he can see everything you can’t say.

Somehow, he seems to. He strokes your cheek and softly says, “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll make it hurt.”

The rush of gratitude and relief spreads through you, warming you from head to toe. You’re shaking a little, and he rubs your arm, staring at your face for a few moments longer, watching as you hold steady. You don’t have to fight the urge to hide from him at all—it isn’t there.

Later, when he sits outside the fresher and listens to you cry, having all but physically pushed him away, he’ll wonder if that was his point of failure. That he should have recognized you were too far gone in your head, that the wound you wanted him to tear open and climb into was festering.

But for now, he sees the devotion you’re aching to share with him instead of the desperation that lurks behind it.

And he takes.

He presses his helmet to your forehead, knowing you don’t know the meaning, but secreting it away for himself. He stands up and gets dressed, peeling the tunic from you with gentle fingers, and enrobing himself in full beskar’gam. Rarely does he wear it with you, but he knows you like it. Knows you like the way it makes you feel small and vulnerable. He crosses the room and prepares to indulge in his desires, beckoning you over with two crooked fingers.

You get off the bed, chilly now, but mourning more the spice and musk of him than the warmth. You take half a step before he shakes his head.

“Get down and crawl.” His voice comes out even raspier through the modulator.

You sink to your knees and obey.

He takes a shaky breath, shuddering. It’s perfect. You’re perfect.

When you reach him, you wait for no orders. Your heart is calling the shots, and something is screaming inside you to prove yourself, to earn his attention, so you prostrate yourself at his feet and give in.

When you press a kiss to the tip of his boot, he sucks in a breath. He has never asked this of you, never imagined you’d let go of your need to feel tough for anything like this.

His chest heaves, but he doesn’t move. He watches as you shudder against the heated floor, pressing your lips to him again and again. Your breathing is heavy now, too, and you rest your forehead against one boot.

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs.

You whimper and finally look up at him. You look up at his face and then drag your eyes down to his cock. “Please,” you whisper. You rise up on your knees and nuzzle your face against where it lays beneath his trousers, straining against them as if reaching back out to you.

He says nothing. He can’t. His throat is tight, and all his muscles tense.

You continue your ministrations, nuzzling and kissing him through the rough fabric. The movements become sloppier, frantic.

He reaches down and cups your chin in one hand while undoing his pants enough to pull his cock out. He holds you there for a moment, centimeters from it, and he can see the strain as you wait.

When he lets go, you lunge. You’re clinging to his thigh, now, fingers scrabbling for purchase. You bury your face in him, needing the coarse hairs against your cheek and the smell of him flooding your senses.

At first, it’s the same, rubbing your cheek against him and kissing delicately on the tip, at the base, on each of his balls. You hover there, pressing in, smothering yourself in his heady musk, tinged with a hint of you.

By the time you start worshipping him with your tongue, he’s shaking. His cock twitches, straining to seek you out and take what he needs, but he doesn’t want to break whatever spell you’re under.

All the gentleness goes away when you bury him in your throat. There’s no buildup; you need to pull him into you until there’s nothing else left, pushing until you’re at the root of him. His curls tickle your nose, but you know no sensation but his cock.

It’s far messier than your pride usually allows. You’re holding yourself down; everything narrowed to the point where the fat head of his cock is hitting your throat. You don’t even notice that your body has other plans, that you’ve begun rubbing your cunt against the boot between your legs.

It’s not enough. You can’t possibly wrap yourself around his leg any tighter, can’t get the tip of his boot any deeper, can’t spread your jaw to fit more of him in.

He loses control when you choke yourself, trying to lick his balls with his cock all the way down your throat. It doesn’t quite work, but the tip flicking out in your single-minded focus almost takes him over the edge.

He yanks you off by your hair. “I thought you were going to take what I give you.”

“I’m sorry,” you yelp. “I’m so sorry, I’ll be good.” You’re nearly in tears.

He crouches down by your face and strokes your cheek. “You did nothing wrong. This is not a punishment. Understood?”

You nod, but it shakes a few tears loose.

He uses your hair to tilt your head up until you meet his eyes. “Get up on the bench.”

You scramble to obey. He’s set up what you thought was a padded table so you can lay your stomach across the long support. It’s not unlike a dining hall table, except the benches are meant for your arms and legs. It’s angled downward, pushing your ass in the air, with a raised rest for your head.

His gentle hands help you find stability and comfort, and he ties your hair back out of your face. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since he started carrying a few of your elastics in a pouch on his belt; it feels like they were always there, part of his equipment. Gun - check, detonators - check, hair ties - check.

“I want you to be quiet for this, okay? Unless you’re crying. No words, no sounds. Do you want a gag to help, or do you want to try on your own?” he asks.

“I’ll be good, I want to be good.”

“I know you do, sweetheart. If you need to use your word, you do it. Promise? It doesn’t count as making noise.”

“Promise,” you say.

“Good girl.” He rubs his thumb over your cheek once more before stepping away to strap you down. There are thick leather cuffs for each wrist and ankle and another strap that he secures over your back.

He runs a gloved hand over your shoulder blades. “Still doing okay?”

You nod, afraid to break the rule. He rewards you with a soft smack on the ass.

When he comes back into your field of vision, he’s holding two implements not quite like you’ve seen before, but can easily figure out.

One has a thick leather handle and a dozen small strands, each knotted at the end. The other is a thin wooden rod. “Right now, you can talk. I want you to tell me how you feel about these.”

You don’t know what to say. He clearly wants to use them, so you do too. “Okay,” you settle on.

“Here,” he says and extends the flogger so you can grasp the ends with your bound hand. After, he trails it lightly down your back, and you shiver. Heat spreads through your body.

“Want to see how it feels?” he offers, and you nod.

The first hit is soft but teasing. The knotted ends spread the sensation like fireworks, so unlike his hand that you gasp. You open your mouth to apologize, and freeze because you aren’t sure you can.

“S’ok, I told you. Noise is fine right now while we try it out.”

You hear the swish as he pulls back, this time, a little harder. It’s incredible. Your cunt clenches around nothing, on full display to him.

“You like that, cyar’ika?”

You nod.

“No, I need to hear it out loud.”

“Yes, sir. Please.”

He grins. He gives you one more test strike, harder than before, and it knocks a moan deep from your chest.

“Fuck,” you whisper. If it all feels like that, you’re not going to be able to be quiet.

He sets the flogger down and comes back over to show you the cane. It’s rigid, unbending when you try. You get chills when he takes it away to test it, but the first strike isn’t bad. It’s not good, like the flogger, but you’ve already caught on to the game, and you know this one is supposed to hurt.

But you hold still and quiet, and the sting fades fast.

The medium-weighted strike is much worse. You jerk in the bonds and scream into the headrest. His hand is on you instantly, bare and soothing. He must have taken his gloves off, just in case. You relax into him, steadying your breathing.

“Too much?” he asks.

You shake your head. “No, I can take it.”

“Alright. Ready?” He rubs his hand up and down your lower back, feeling you melt at his touch. He rubs his hand against your cunt, and you arch a little, biting down the moan.

“Yes, please.”

“I’ll play fair,” he promises. “Repeat the rules.”

“No words. No sounds. Except crying and my safeword.”

“Good girl,” he says, and brings the flogger down on your ass.

You buck in the restraints but don’t make a sound. He goes easy on you for the first few minutes, with light flicks of his wrist, just to build up the tension.

You squirm and jerk a little as your cheeks start to turn redder. You’re soaked, and he hasn’t even really gotten started. His cock throbs, and he has to resist the urge just to plunge into your hot, inviting cunt.

You start to struggle more when he puts more power behind the swings. You’re making little huffs of air, but he doesn’t count those against you.

He aims a little lower, several of the knots finding your cunt. You lurch forward against the straps, hands balling into fists. You’re panting now.

He can’t resist. He does it again, obsessed with how your labia are turning red and the way you’re shaking with the effort to be good.

The next hit lands hard enough to make a wet slapping noise, and you convulse a little. When it settles, you can’t stop moving. Wiggling and trying to grind your hips against the bench.

He watches your face, evaluating for any distress, but instead, he gets to see as you realize that you can’t ask to cum. Your lip trembles.

Mercifully, he switches back to your ass, giving your now-swollen cunt a break. It feels hot, and your clit is throbbing. It’s only slightly less torturous since he lands harder hits, bringing the thick knots down with enough force that you suspect you’ll be bruised tomorrow.

The thought makes you wetter, and you can’t hold still anymore. Unfortunately, the way your ass hangs off the pad means you can’t get your cunt close enough to make contact with anything, and you’re doomed to hump against the dry fucking air.

His next hit breaks you. He abruptly switched back to your pussy, harder than he hit before, and you cry out, pushing back desperately to reach him. But he pulls back.

“That’s one, sweetheart. You want it now or save them all for later? You can answer me.”

“Now,” you sob.

“Okay. Be brave for me.” He hadn’t missed your reaction to the cane; he knew you didn’t like it in the way you liked his hand or the flogger. But you weren’t supposed to like punishments, anyway.

He brings the cane down with a light flick, just enough bite to get your attention. Your whole body tenses, and he soothes the pain away with his hand, crooning praises as you relax.

When he resumes his efforts with the flogger, it’s clear that you’re not going to last as long this time. He tries to build you up slow, but right before a hard hit, he gives you permission to cum.

It’s too much. You don’t hear it, too much rushing in your ears as you fall apart, but you feel the cry leave your throat. “No, no, no, no, no,” you whisper, thrashing against the table.

“I’ll count that as just two,” he says. He pauses. “Check in, please.”

You gulp down air. “M’fine, I’m good, I can take it.” You still mean it this time. You’re mad at yourself for speaking right after you fucked up, and you want the pain.

He gives you both in rapid succession, the second hit landing before the first has a chance to bloom. His hand is back on you immediately, rubbing, but you’re starting to feel raw.

“You’re doing so well, cyar’ika.”

The words are a better balm than his hand, and you relax a little.

You don’t know what goes wrong the next time. He brought you to your climax again, and you thought you choked down the moan, so when he tells you “one” after, you begin to sob.

He stops. “Check in, please.”

You try to tell him you’re fine, but the racking gasps and tears are a garrote.

“Okay, sweetheart, I’m going to unbuckle these now.” He moves to unhook your wrists.

“No!” It comes out broken.

He freezes. “No, what?”

“No, no, no,” you sob, jerking against the straps like you’re a toddler having a tantrum. “I can take it. I can be good!”

“You’ve been so good,” he says, moving again to unbuckle you.

You keep sobbing, telling him to “just fucking do it, don’t do this to me, I want to be good.”

When he unfastens you, he goes to help you up, and you sob harder, slamming a fist at his chest. He catches your wrist in his hand before you make contact with the armor.

“Okay, sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

“No, no, no. I didn’t do it, I didn’t tap out, please.”

“I am. Rancor. I’m tapping out.”

It startles you still. “What?”

“I’m using the safeword. I need to stop.” He sounds raw, under the helmet, and the horrible thought that he might be crying occurs to you.

You don’t know what to say, so you just sniffle and look away.

He carries you over to the bed, and you sit and wait as he removes his armor. He climbs into the bed and reaches for you, but you flinch. The sound that comes out of the modulator is like you punched him in the stomach, but it only makes you wrap your arms tighter around yourself.

“Talk to me, cyar’ika.”

You shake your head. Truthfully, you don’t think you can. Your throat feels raw, and your brain isn’t cooperating.

“Then come here, please? I need—I need to make sure you’re okay.”

“I want to go home.”

He sucks in a breath and waits for a second, pushing down the way the panic creeps up. “What'd you say, cyare?”

“I want to go back to the Crest. Please.”

Relief blossoms through his veins. He doesn’t love the idea of leaving this way, of walking back without talking about this, but he gets it. If it’ll make it easier to be somewhere you feel safe, he’ll do it. And he's selfishly pleased whenever you call the ship home.

“Let me make sure you aren’t hurt, please. And then we can go.”

You step onto the floor and hold very still while he checks you over. There’ll be bruises tomorrow, he’s sure, but from the flogger and not the cane. No other damage, and though he wants to put something on it for the bruising, he’s willing to wait until you’re home to do so.

He goes to help you dress, but you’ve already snatched up your clothes and gone into the fresher, shutting the door. By the time he’s done putting the armor back on, you emerge. He suspects you stuck your face under the cold faucet because the splotches and swelling from your tears have mostly vanished.

“Oh, the Madame has a lead for us,” you tell him, voice steady. He can see the way your hands tremble but lets you pretend you’re back to normal.

“Okay,” he says. Shutting the door when you’re both out of the room feels wrong, like he’s leaving the unfinished business inside.

If Mara or Anissa notice anything off about you, they don’t say anything. He doesn’t think they’d let him leave if they had suspected anything was off. You were very good at stepping into roles and controlling your emotions. He takes the coordinates from Anissa and promises it won’t be another decade before he visits again.

You don’t talk to him on the way back. You pull away when he tries to take your hand. He gets the message and keeps an extra step behind you. You finally speak when you’re back on the ship, the ramp sealed, and the world quiet.

“I’m gonna—” and you point at the refresher.

He nods, and you disappear behind the door. He sinks down to the ground, fully armored, and waits.

He doesn’t know how long he’s there, head leaned back against the wall, listening to you cry. All he knows is that he’s glad he didn’t move when he hears you softly call out to him.

You’re so quiet, too ashamed of how deeply you need him, that you almost hope he doesn’t hear. But of course, the door is open just a minute later.

He shed his armor right there in the hall and was stripped down by the time the door was shut. The lights were already out (his heart ached at the thought of you breaking down in the dark, alone), so he ripped the helmet off and ducked under the stream with you.

He had to feel around for a moment, but eventually found you sitting, arms around your knees, tucked against the cold metal corner. He sat up against you, reaching an arm over your shoulder and closing his eyes in relief when you practically leapt closer.

The water is frigid. Even though he assumes it's run cold, he reaches for the handle to find it set to the lowest temperature. He yanks it up, not all the way but just enough. For a moment, he feels dangerously nauseous.

“Why were you in here in the cold?” he asks.

You shake your head furiously, wet hair smacking against his chest.

“You can’t do this,” he whispers, holding your head against him. “You can’t punish yourself.”

You start to cry again. You feel ragged, like you’ve been tracking a bounty for six days across a mountain range.

He pulls you onto his lap, and you fold into him, hands tucked against your chest, letting his broad arms pull you back together.

He knows you can feel his shoulders shake, and the way he buries his face in your hair, letting the burn of his tears wash away under the water.

When you’ve both settled, it’s a silent thing. He’s not sure it’s a good idea, but he doesn’t stop you when you reposition yourself and guide his cock into you. The water is actually starting to run cold now, but neither of you moves to turn it off. Instead, he holds your hips gently, and guides you as you ride him.

It’s slow. He’s exhausted and content to let you rock yourself, holding onto his shoulders.

“Cyar’ika,” he starts.

“I know. I’m sorry,” you whisper.

He shakes his head. He knows you can feel it, even if you can’t see him.

This is the first time you’ve been this close, with his helmet off and your eyes uncovered. The darkness is inky and smooth, no possibility of being seen, and he’s not afraid of that. He’s afraid of what it means that he’s doing it at all.

“Do you hate me?” you ask suddenly.

“Why would I hate you?”

“Because you had to use your safeword. Because I wasn’t listening to you when you wanted to stop.”

“That’s what it’s for, cyar’ika. And you did listen. As soon as I said it. I’m sorry I let it get that far.”

“It was fine, I was fine. It came out of nowhere, I wasn’t lying.”

“I know. I know you weren’t.” He presses your foreheads together, gasping a little as you grind down on his cock. “But there were signs. I should have noticed.”

“Stop,” you whisper. Your hips are moving a little faster, a little harder. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Later. Please.”

“Can I take care of you, pretty girl?” he asks, and when you nod, he slips his hand between you to rub your clit.

“There you go,” he murmurs as your hips stutter. “Can I fill you up?”

“Please,” you gasp into the darkness.

You find your pleasure together, and he kisses you right before you cum.

As you come down from your mutual high, he pulls you in against him. You nestle up, still breathing heavily.

The silence is warm, now. You know you’ll have to talk about it more tomorrow, but it feels like everything is okay. There are no bad feelings between you.

He knows it for certain when he tucks you into bed. You'd fallen asleep in the hull, waiting for him to come down from setting the nav. He carried you to the bunk, and you stirred but snuggled right up, fingers tangled in his shirt.

You know it for certain when you whisper goodnight. You're both almost asleep, but you hear his soft breath beneath the helmet.

"G'night. Love you."

You don't remember it in the morning.

*title from "New Again" by Taking Back Sunday