#‘why don’t you just turn off reblogs’ i shouldn’t have to leave me alone

[4x01]

the problem with having a speech pattern influenced by tumblr is that your personal life update posts will be perceived as consumable #relatable content for people to reblog

[classyrbf]

IS THERE SOMEONE ELSE! — GOJO SATORU

SYNOPSIS...you and gojo get into a fight after realizing that he’s been hiding something about your relationship the entire time

INFO...gojo x fem!reader, angsty, arguing, breaking up(?), not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

You slam the door to the penthouse, your heels clicking against the mahogany floors with each step. You toss your purse on the couch, hearing Gojo opening the front door and shutting it quickly. “Baby, please just listen to me.” He pleads, following after you.

“I don’t wanna hear your bullshit excuse, Satoru.” You roll your eyes, plopping down on the edge of the bed to relieve your sore feet of the heels you’ve been wearing all night to your boyfriends opening event he’s been planning for months now.

“I’m not trying to make excuses. Please.” He walks over towards you and toss your heel at him. “Stop throwing shit and just talk to me!”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do!” You stand to your feet, glaring daggers at him. “Do you know how embarrassing that was for me? God, you’re a fucking asshole.” You seethe, narrowing your eyes. “I sat there all alone, while you let some woman feel up on you the entire night? Are you out your fucking mind?” You scoff.

“She’s just an old friend, y/n. I swear I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.” He shakes his head at you, grabbing onto your arms tightly.

“Oh, yeah? So I when I came up and introduced myself as your girlfriend none of your friends were looking at me like I was crazy? I know we’ve been only together for a year, Satoru, but that’s fucking low.” You pull away from him. “They didn’t even know who I was. Then you got miss prissy bitch clearly flirting with you in front of me and you didn’t do a damn thing to stop it!” You brush past him, stomping over towards the bathroom.

“Slow down, y/n! Baby—”

“I’m not your fucking ‘baby’, Satoru.” You gather all of your products from the bathroom, from your makeup and skincare to your clothes and shampoo.

“Stop for just one second.” He spins you around so you’re facing him. “Don’t leave. I swear you’re the only girl for me. I know I fucked up, I know I did. I embarrassed you, made you look stupid and I am so fucking sorry. But please do not leave.” He cups your face gently and his touch feels so inviting, but you can’t forgive him that easily. “I only want you. I only need you.”

You look up at him through your lashes, swallowing thickly as you bite the inside of your cheek. “Should’ve thought about that when you let her kiss your cheek and you smiled at her. Right in front of me. Get the fuck off of me.” You push him, rushing to grab your bag from the closet.

Gojo lets out a tired sigh, following you. He wasn’t going to let you go. Not like this. “I shouldn’t have let her near me.”

“Why was she so comfortable with being that close to you, huh?” You question, furrowing your brows as you turn to look at him. “Now that I think about it. Let me guess, you two were more than just friends.” You stand to your feet, snatching your clothes off the hangers and shoving them into your bag. He looks at you, opening his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. And from the look in his eyes, you already knew the truth. A bitter laugh leaves your lips, shaking your head in disappointment.

“It was before you! Before us! We never dated it was just a small thing between me and her!” He tried to explain. “Baby, I swear! Once I met you, everything changed. I cut her off and focused all my attention on you. You’re the only who has my heart.” He grabbed your wrist only for you to pull away.

“Clearly I ain’t the only who who’s got your dick, though.” You slam the closet door shut, turning your back towards him.

“Don’t say that, y/n. That’s the first time I’ve seen her in years!”

“Yeah? Well all your friends sure know about her. She must’ve been great in bed, Satoru. Me? Well, they looked at me like I was a fucking ghost!” You scoff. “Like I was some delusional bitch who came up to you and said I was your girlfriend!” You throw your hands up in disbelief. “You must take me for fucking joke. It must be written on my forehead or something!”

“I don’t take you for a joke! You’re my goddamn girlfriend. You live with me. You have my initial around your fucking neck! I love you and you know that!” He takes a step towards you.

“Do I know that?” You ask aloud, cocking your head to the side.

“What—of course I love you. What the fuck are you saying?” He looked at you with pure confusion.

“You’re a joke. One of your friends, Shoko, pulled me aside and told me the only reason you got with me is because your little fling ended up getting a boyfriend herself around the time we started dating. You’re a piece of shit.” You revealed the truth to him, watching him stare at you blankly, lost for words. “Think I wouldn’t find out?” You ripped off the necklace with his initial, tossing it at him.

“Yes, I was upset that she got a boyfriend but—”

“So you had feelings for her. And just to cover them up, you got with me as a distraction.” You step closer towards him. “Listen to me, Satoru, don’t ever try and contact me again, keep whatever fucking gifts you bought me and return them, sell them, do whatever because I am done,” you spoke through gritted teeth.

“No, no, no, baby. You can’t leave me. Yea I liked her before, but so fucking what? I was never in love with her, not like I am with you. I was too fucking stupid. I still am! Just give me another chance to fix this. I don’t want us to end this way.” He grabs your packed bag from your hands and tosses it on the bed.

“Let me go, Satoru.”

“No,” he shakes his head, “I can’t. You’re everything to me. She’s nothing compared to you.” He sniffles, holding your hands in his. “I love you so much and I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you the truth. I’m sorry I embarrassed you. And I’m sorry for entertaining the idea that she could even come close to you. She can’t.” His hands cupped your face, his heart pounding in anticipation as he waited to hear any words from you.

You reached up, pulling his hands away from your face. “Bye, Satoru.” You walked past him, grabbing your bag off of the bed. As much as it hurt to leave, you knew you had to respect yourself. Time and space was what you needed to think. With each step out the door, you could hear Gojo’s sobs, something you’ve never heard before in the year you’ve been with him. For the strong, flashily and confident man he is, you never once thought you’d see or him break down. Especially not for you.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Summer Breeze 12

Warnings: age gap (reader is 22, Andrew is mid 40s), dad’s friend, Andy being Andrew, other dark elements. As usual, be mindful of your content consumption.

I also beg of you to leave me some tuppence in the form of a comment and/or reblog. You are cherished!

Enjoy, my loverlies.

You wake up shivering. The AC blasts over your bare legs and speckles across your skin. You roll over as your skull rattles. Your left eye twitches as you sit up and hug the pillow against your middle for warmth. 

For a second, you’re at your dad’s house; the next you’re in the cabin; and at last, you come back to the present. 

Andy’s voice rolls in a low timbre but you can’t make out his words. His tone is dire and has you stumbling to your feet. Something’s wrong. Your dad! 

You follow it to the kitchen and find him with his hand to his ear. He’s on the phone with someone. Your phone. You blink as you stare at your pearl case. He nods in recognition and wraps up the call. He comes around the square island and offers you the cell. 

“It kept going off.” He explains. 

“Was it the hospital? Is dad okay?” You nearly snatch it away. 

“No, no. I called earlier. He’s going through some tests and exercises.” He crosses his arms and leans on the counter. “That was the insurance company.” 

“Insurance?” You cringe and lower your hand to your side. You squeeze the phone tight. 

“I know, shouldn’t have touched it but you were out and I was concerned. You got enough on your plate.” 

“What-- what did they say? Why did they call?” You demand. 

Did they change their mind? What there something else you can do? Andy purses his lips and rubs along the angle of his jaw, his other hand still folded over his chest. 

“Claim denied. You’ll have to deal directly with the hospital for payment.” He exhales and frowns. “Those kinda bills are never easy. I know it well. A lot to deal with on top of everything else.” 

“Yeah, I... I spoke with them before but... I haven’t had time to figure out—I could get a credit card? Or a loan? Maybe. I don’t have anything on my credit so...” You shrug and shake your head. “It’s not your problem.” 

“But I can help.” 

You flinch at his offer. You scoff and wave the phone at him. “No, no. You’ve done so much. More than enough. I couldn’t... couldn’t ask that. No. No.” You’re arguing with yourself as much as him. “I can do this. I’m an adult and it’s my responsibility. I’ll... I’ll drop out. Dad has my tuition in savings. I’ll have to look over his accounts and--” 

“What about the nurse? The physio? The counseling?” Andy asks. 

You freeze and stare at him. You shiver again but not because you’re cold. You grimace and move your lips wordlessly. 

“This isn’t just a hospital stay, sweetheart. This is going to be a long recovery. It could even be the rest of his life.” 

His grim tone sinks into your stomach and you feel sick. You press a hand to your cheek and nod. You roll your eyes up in an effort to bid back the tears. 

“I know. I’ll... I’ll figure it out. I will. I can... I have to.” You turn way to hide your mounting distress.

You don’t think you can do all of this. You didn’t think about tomorrow or the next day or next month or next year. What do you do when the savings run out? You don’t even know how much your dad has? 

“You don’t have to do it alone. I could--” 

“Why would you help?” You spin to face him. “I’m young and scared but I’m not naive. No one just helps someone like that. Someone they barely know. Even my mom--” You choke back a sob and steady yourself. 

“Your dad’s my friend.” 

“Yeah, for what? A couple of years?” You put the heel of your hand and the butt of your phone to your temples. 

“You’re a nice girl. I wanna help.” 

“Why?” You ask. 

“Because you shouldn’t have to do this alone.” 

“No, why did you answer the phone?” Tendrils creep up your back and wrap around your neck. You drop your arms. “Why... why did you rent this house? Why are you doing all of this?” 

“You need it--” 

“Answer my question. I can’t-- I can’t handle anything else.” You snap. “I’ve been so distracted, so swept up in it all that I didn’t stop to think why a fifty-year old man is doing all of this?” 

He’s quiet as your heart thumps and you look him in the face. He stares back and a line forms in his forehead as his cheek dimples. The silver at his temples is more obvious and the speckle in his beard as well. This man is your father’s age. He might be a neighbour and a friend but your dad isn’t exactly the nicest guy. 

“I do want to help.” He speaks at last. The lilt in his voice says it all. All your suspicions coil tightly in your chest. “I could help. I could take care of you and your dad. I would--” 

“Jesus. Are you serious?” You warble through the swell in your throat. “It’s... no, no, not that. How—you could be my father?! Your son--” 

“I’m not your father.” He insists tersely. “And I’m not too old.” 

“Oh god!” You hit your head in frustration. “I’m so stupid. I’m so goddamn stupid. How could I—but why would I ever--” You rant wildly as you pace around frantically. You spin and face the walls and examine every inch. “I-- I’m already fucked. I’m--” 

Your legs shake and you wobble around. You stagger into the door frame and cling to it. You heave, a sharp whistle rising from your throat with each crushing breath. Your tears roll down your cheeks and you slide down to your knees. You claw at your neck as the air snags in your throat. 

“Sweetheart,” Andy nears and kneels. He touches your back and you flinch. “You gotta breathe. You’re having a panic attack.” 

“Y-yeah. I—ammmmm.” You squeak as your vision swims and you grip the door frame tightly. 

“It’s okay.” He coaxes and rubs between your shoulders. 

“No-” 

“I’m not asking for much--” 

Your head pulses and you sit back on your heels. Your look at him in a flume of rage and horror. You slap his shoulder. Once, twice, again. Then you shove him away from you. You sob and fall forward onto your hands and shake in a storm of grief. 

This can’t be real. You just need your dad. You need him to hug you and tell you it’s going to be okay. 

[alieinthemorning]

Happy A Date With Death: Beyond the Bet day! Anyways, I saw that your request were open, and I was wondering if you would be willing to write how Grimmy/Casper would comfort a chubby MC, who just got a snide remark about their weight by someone. (Ie: a Co-worker or one of their neighbors) and slowly over their call with him, the MC breaks down? If your comfortable with that request that is! Totally get it if you're not, Thank you for just taking the time to read this, and I hope you have a wonderful day.

(Ps. Make it as fluffy/comforting as you want, I will not mind it!)

Sick Spiral [8394 | Grim | Casper]

Content: Chubby!Reader, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Beyond the Bet: Day 5, POV Second Person, Reader Insert

Pronouns: None

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries

One thing that’s worse than being sick is being sick and forced to leave the house because you weren’t prepared for your sickness. You weren’t one to get sick often anyway and despite having cold medicine, it was all expired (and you’d be damned to take some expired medicine). So, you were forced to leave the comfort of your bed, and soldier the streets. 

Thankfully, there was a drug store just down the street from you, so you didn’t have to go far. Unfortunately, the older man who always had something to say to you was working the counter this morning. All you wanted to do was get your damn meds and snacks, and get the hell out of there, but no. Albert had other plans. 

“See, this is why you’ll never catch the eye of someone.” Not even a hello, just straight to the insults. You ignored him, inserting your card into the card reader. 

“You’re fat, ugly and don’t care for yourself properly.” He sighed, throwing your receipt in the bag. “You’ll be alone on your deathbed at this rate.”

Your eyes widened at his words. Albert was bad, but not this bad. Yeah, he would talk shit about you because his life was going to shit, but to bring up death was something new, something far. 

You snatched the bag from the counter, “Don’t project your sad, shitty life onto me.” then rushed out the doors. 

You quickly made your way home (probably pushing your sick body a bit too far, but oh well), switched from your outdoor clothes back into your pajamas, took your medicine and then crawled back into bed to sleep Albert’s words away. 

However, they didn’t go away. They clung to you even after you had woken up hours later. They made themselves known as you attempted to find solace in Casper. You tried to fill yourself with him, but the nagging whine of Albert’s words still rang in your ears. 

“it’s strange, foreign feeling. no one has else has ever…pulled at my heartstrings so.”

You frowned at the words. Casper couldn’t lie, but that didn’t mean that he could be wrong. You knew that you shouldn’t hold Albert’s words in any sort of regard, but you couldn’t help it when his voice became your own. 

And then the chat room is replaced with the calling screen, and you don’t have the heart to decline. You do, however, turn your camera off. 

“Sunshine?” His brows were pulled, and his lips were in a pout. 

You didn’t respond immediately, needing a moment to masquerade your feelings. You’re sure that he wouldn’t be able to tell that anything was wrong, especially if you tell him that you’re sick and look a mess, and that that’s the only reason why you have your camera off. 

Casper didn’t call you a “foolish mortal” for nothing, though. He was able to see through your cracks in your mask. He was the one who cut the call short, telling you to wait for him. So you scrambled to make yourself, and your home look presentable. However, you knew that your efforts would be in vain. You’d still be fat and ugly, there was no changing that. 

When he knocked on your window not long after, you made sure to keep your gaze far from his own. You stayed an arm's length apart.  Despite him telling you that reapers didn’t get sick, you still didn’t want to infect him with…yourself. 

“Sunshine…” His voice was soft and as sweet as ever, and you couldn’t help the few tears that slipped past the ducts. “What happened?”

So you told him. Told him about Albert and his cruel words that were somehow able to break you down and pull your own negative voices from out the vault you had stuffed them in. However, the more you spoke, the more you spiraled and the sharp words that were usually pointed at yourself, turned to Casper.  

“I know you can’t lie, but you must be wrong. There’s no way any sane person would actually like me. I’m far, gross and—” Your words are cut off, by Casper warm hands that cupped your cheeks. 

“Sunshine. Can I lie?” You sighed through your nose and closed your eyes, so he continued. “I can’t, and you know that. So when I tell you that delisted being inflicted with mortal sickness at this moment, I still find you as beautiful as I always have.”

You shook your head, attempting to pull away from him. “You’re just talking about my soul.”

“In the beginning, yes. I found your bright soul captivating, but the more time I spent  observing you. The more I was able to see past my assignment to look at you, Sunshine.” 

You had stopped pulling away from him, but you still hadn’t opened your eyes. You knew that if you opened them, you’d see the sincerity behind those ruby eyes. And you weren’t ready to accept that, not fully— not yet. 

So, you nodded and told him it was okay. “But you’re gonna have to be louder than the mean voices.”

“If we keep talking every day as we do, I’m sure I’ll be the only other voice you’ll hear.” 

You smiled as you led him to the bed, exhausted from your sudden breakdown alongside your sickness. You coaxed Casper to lay in bed with you, despite him still wearing his outside clothes, but oh well, you’d get over it. Your head was on his chest while his hand drew shapes along your forearms. 

“Does this mean you forfeit the bet?” You asked, voice laced with sleep. 

“Not a chance.” You heard the smile in his response. 

Unbeknownst to you, taking your soul no longer meant literally to Casper. 

He had a lot of research to do once he returned to The Underworld. 

I wrote this all on my phone this morning (see: 2am), then edited it on my laptop later this morning after I woke back up (see: 10am).

Fuck Albert. He's not progressive btw, but I didn't want to use any gendered language toward you, so I kept it general.

Also there might accidentally be more hurt than comfort, but hey, that's my brand lmao

Ko-Fi | Masterlist

[bookshelf-dust]

the ache

billy hargrove x gn!byers!reader

word count: 625

warnings: grieving, mentions of death, post the battle of starcourt

a/n: um, so…i just wrote this in thirty minutes, give or take. it’s a bit of dialogue that i’ve been kind of toying with in my head for a few days, and here i am, at one in the fucking morning, writing this. i’m sorry in advance. (also for context, none of the season three hopper death shit happened.) i love you all. <3333

————

When you don’t show for dinner, Joyce knows exactly where you are.

There’s no guesswork, or calling around. She knows.

She knows because she’s been where you are. And she knows you shouldn’t be alone.

She remembers when Hopper had come and sat on the floor in front of her without a word. It had settled something inside of her, that small gesture. Sure, it hadn’t soothed the ache—nothing could do that, nothing but time—yet it had helped. It felt like a breath of fresh air.

Joyce parks the car, and makes her way to where she stood all those months ago as they lowered him into the ground.

You’d been silent then. She wasn’t sure you were breathing, really. And when they’d finished, when the funeral was over, you’d just stood there. And she’d waited until you made your way to the car, and she took you home. Anything for her baby.

————

The grass is chilly under your palms, where you’re desperately ripping the blades up and flinging them to the sides. There might be two sparse patches left by the time you’re finished, but that’s okay. It’ll grow back.

Your face is wet. You gave up on wiping it dry long ago.

When you hear footsteps behind you, you don’t even have to turn because you know exactly who it is. Who’s come for you.

You start to cry again, but this time it’s worse. This time you’re sobbing.

Joyce sits down beside you, settling on her knees.

You look up at her, but you can’t really see her because your eyes are filling with tears and blurring your vision.

“Oh, baby,” Joyce says. She runs her hand over your leg.

You cry out. You’re practically wailing. It hurts, you’ve noticed. It’s like an ache, and it won’t leave. It stays.

You look away from her and at his headstone. William Hargrove, it reads.

That’s all he is now, a plot. A marker. A memory.

“Mama.” Joyce never takes her eyes off of you. Seeing you like this fills her with an immense grief, and she wants nothing more than to make it all go away. To fix it. To kiss it better.

“Mama, I miss him.”

A sob wrenches free from your throat, and you’re wiping desperately at your face again because now she’s here and she can see you at your weakest. But it’s no use, so you let it come.

“My baby,” you cry.

Images of Billy flash through your mind: sitting with him in the staff room while it rained one day at the pool and no one could swim, helping him get a tangle out of his hair, kissing him on the cheeks just to see him blush.

He’s gone. He’s never coming back. Your Billy is dead.

“Mama, please.”

You don’t know why you’re begging, but you are. And you keep begging, like it’s going to fix something. It’s not.

Please what? Please bring my boyfriend back. Please undo what happened that night. Please let him be safe. Please.

Joyce wraps her arms around your shoulders and you cling to her like you’re afraid she’ll disappear too. Like she’ll be in the ground and you’ll be sitting and crying out for her just as you are now.

You’re not sure how long you cry for, but she lets you for as long as you need.

And when you’re done, you go home and lay in bed. You slip on one of his shirts, and you think about him.

You cry some more, and try to remember something Hopper told you after he’d taken you out of the mall that night.

“That feeling never goes away. But everyday it does get a little easier.”

You hope he’s right.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

[notsocheezy]

Brain Curd #164

Brain Curds are lightly edited flash fiction - practically first drafts - posted daily (haven't missed one yet!) and sometimes written with the express intention of being terrible… but, you know, in an endearing way. Please like and reblog if you enjoy - the notes keep me going!

The following material is classified - unless you've read the rest of Government Man here on Tumblr!

Government Man and Government Woman climbed into the helicopter from opposite sides, his suit covered in blood and hers covered in the same blood, though slightly less of it. GM’s eyelids drooped like the bags beneath them, but GW’s eyes were wide open, staring a thousand yards out.

Government Man took his pistol from its holster and began cleaning it with deep focus and determination, though he knew he could never truly clean it of the blood it had spilled. Government Woman turned to him and watched as he ran the microfiber cloth over every surface of the gun.

“Do you… ever wonder if what we’re doing is… wrong, somehow?”

He glared at her. “How?”

“Aren’t we hurting people?”

Government Man blinked. “Speak for yourself, Government Woman.” He went back to cleaning.

The blades began spinning and Boss Man jumped into the seat opposite the others. He strapped in and the pilot took off.

“Great work, agents. The world is in your debit.”

“Debt.” Government Woman corrected him.

“Yes, debt for short. Now, without further ado, we must discuss your next mission.”

“Do we not get some kind of break, Boss Man?”

“Forces working against our government do not take breaks, Government Woman, so neither do we.”

“When is lunch?” Government Man asked.

“Noon, eastern time.”

Government Woman tilted her eyebrows. “Isn’t that seven-thirty PM local time?”

“We shall be in flight by then, so it does not really matter.”

“May I have the vegetarian meal?”

“No.”

The helicopter shook. Boss Man grabbed onto a hand hold.

“Turbulence.” The pilot said over the intercom.

“Shouldn’t we be at the airport by now?”

“Don’t be silly, Government Woman. If we were supposed to be at the airport by now, we would have landed. Right, pilot?”

The androgynous pilot turned around and saluted. “Right you are, Boss Man! You are very smart.”

Boss Man pushed his hair back. “Finally someone notices. Anyway, we must track down those missile launch codes as soon as we return to headquarters. Government Boy has recovered enough to help us search.”

The helicopter touched down and everyone got out. Government Woman looked around at the unfamiliar landscape: wide open nothing with a building in the middle of it.

“This isn’t the airport we landed at.” She noted.

“This is a special airport, just for CIA VIPs!” The pilot replied, gesturing to the building. “Please proceed through that rusty door for your security checkpoint.”

“Oh no!” She pulled out a jar from her pocket, which held a red scorpion. “You don’t think they’ll make me get rid of him, do you?”

Government Man scowled at her. “Why do you care so much for that stupid insect?”

“Scorpions are arachnids! And not stupid… And I think he’s pretty!”

Just as the four walked through the door, they were at gunpoint. Five nondescript henchmen had rifles pointed right at their heads.

“Hands up where I can see them!” One of them said.

“Aaah!” The pilot fake-screamed. “We’d better do what they say!”

Another henchman focused on Government Woman. “She’s got a grenade! Drop it!”

“No, no, he’s just a cute little scorpion! Leave him alone!”

“Drop it!”

She complied, letting the jar fall to the ground and shatter. The scorpion scurried off and hid in a crack in the brick wall.

[onlyfezco]

Playing Pretend - Fezco

Summary: Some guy can’t take the hint you want nothing to do with him at a party, so you ask Fez for help to get him to leave you alone

Fezco x reader

fluff

Word Count: 1,881

Author’s Note: I started writing this before I even made this side blog so it’s nice to finally post it. I just wanted a fake dating troupe. Reblogs and comments are appreciated.

“Fez,” you whisper shouted as you plopped down on the couch beside half of the party’s favorite guest.

“Woah, ma,” Fez said letting out a low laugh as he held on tight to his drink. “You need somethin’?”

“Actually, yes,” you said then glanced around the party making sure you weren’t being watched. You turned back to look at Fez before you spoke again. “And you can totally say, no, but you don’t even have to do much. Just sit there and look cute, and-”

Fez cut you off, his cheeks starting to grow red at your comment about him being cute. “Just ask, Y/N.”

You took a deep breath. “Okay, can you pretend to be my boyfriend for like 5 minutes, please,” you asked quickly then grinned hoping that would butter him up.

Fez shook his head hella confused. “Huh?” He shifted on the couch so he was facing you more. He wanted to hear this.

“I know it’s weird, but I’ve been dodging this guy all night who can’t take a hint. There’s only so long I can play dumb like I don’t know he’s hitting on me.”

Fez took a sip of his drink as he watched you intensely. “Just tell his ass to leave you alone.”

Men were so naïve. “Fez. Have you ever listened to True Crime? Hell, have you turned on the news? I tell him no, next thing you know I’m dead in a ditch somewhere. Men don’t do well with women turning them down. He’ll take a man more serious than me.”

Fezco nodded his head for a second taking in what you said. “Nah, I get it.” He took a slow slip from his drink before he asked, “What you want me to do?”

If Fez was being honest, pretending to be your man would be the easiest thing for him to do. He thought about it often. Him and you together. He tried not to let his mind wonder about it too much. You started college a few months ago, so you weren’t in town much anyway. And besides, he wanted better for you than some local drug dealer that wasn’t going anywhere. You were too good for that.

“Just be you, Fezzy,” you smiled at him before snuggling close to him on the old leather couch. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you picked up his arm and put it over your shoulder. Did you want that creepy guy to quit buggy you? Yes. Did you mind cuddling with Fez to do so? Absolutely Not. But this totally wasn’t a ploy to get closer to Fez...

“See that guy over there in the maroon hoodie,” you asked nodding your head in the direction of the kitchen.

“Un huh,” Fezco replied.

“That’s him. We just have to do this until he sees me. Which shouldn’t be long.”

“Nah, ma, you good,” Fez replied adjusting his arm around your shoulders. You turned a little so now your leg was draped over his. “You ain’t worried some guy you actually like will think you with me?”

You gazed around the party at your old classmates. The dating pool in this town was crazy shallow. “Not really.” You paused for a beat before you asked him, “What about you?” You turned and looked into his blue eyes, which might have been a mistake because they were so hypnotizing. “You not worried some girl is going to think you’re taken?”

Fezco was quiet for a second. You never thought anything of his silence. He was just gathering his thoughts. Better than blurting out the first thing that came to mind and getting tongue tied like you.

He shook his head slowly. “Not really worried ‘bout it,” he said rubbing his beard with his free hand. The red solo cup he had earlier now discarded on the end table beside the couch.

You smiled bumping into his side. “No lady you interested in or talking too?” You didn’t know why you were asking. You didn’t want to know. Maybe you were trying to suss out the competition. Not that there was competition cause Fezco was just a friend.

Fez chucked as he shook his head. “Nah, right now the only lady I’m talkin’ to is you.”

“Lucky me,” you said as you fidgeted in your spot. Were you flirting with Fezco? You didn’t have too much time to think about it because Jacob... Jay... whatever his name was started looking towards you. “Oh, he’s looking this way,” you quickly rushed out trying to act cool.

You didn’t want to look the guy in the eye while he was looking your way, but then how could you know if he actually saw you and Fez and would leave you alone? So you tried to act casual. Like you always sat this close to Fezco. Pretending to make small talk as you played with the ring on his pinky.

Fez turned his head so now he was whispering in your ear. It caught you off guard a little, but his deep voice sent shivers down your spine. He was playing this “boyfriend” role very well. “How I’m doin? Think he gonna leave you alone now?”

A slow smile grew on your face. “You’re doing perfect,” you answered turning to look at him. “I’m sure... Jason? Whoever won’t be checking for me the rest of the party. Thank you,” you said, then you placed a chaste kiss on his cheek.

The ginger’s eyes grew big at your heartfelt gesture. He thought for a moment before he spoke. “Maybe you should stick around a lil longer... make sure he got the message.”

You smiled up at him. “Yeah... maybe a little longer,” you said, scrunching up your nose. He thought it was adorable.

It was silent between you two for a moment. An old Destiny’s Child song blasting from the speakers.

“You have really pretty lashes,” you said softly. “Boys always get good lashes. It’s not fair.”

“Well you got nice eyes,” Fez said returning the complement. “Like an angel or some shit.”

Your head fell back on the couch in disbelief hitting Fez’s arm that was still wrapped around you. “I have nice eyes,” you questioned. “Fez,” you sat up looking directly at him crossing your leg under your body, “you could sell salt to a slug just by looking at it with those eyes. They’re like crazy mesmerizing.”

“Chill. Gonna have me blushin ‘n shit,” he said chuckling at you. He took his arm from over your shoulders and elbowed you.

“Aww, you’re getting red,” you pointed out, reaching up poking his now crimson cheek. “Do I make you nervous, Fezco,” you asked teasingly.

“Pretty girls do that to me.”

Now your cheeks were the ones getting hot. “You’re playing this ‘boyfriend’ role pretty well with all these complements you’re throwing my way.”

“I’m just speaking the truth, ma,” Fez replied.

Laughing nervously, you couldn’t look at Fez. “You better be careful or I might start falling for you.”

Fezco eyed your frame on the couch. He liked the idea of you and him. “I wouldn’t be mad at that,” he said casually, then pulled a joint out to his lips and lit it.

Your eyes grew wide, but this wasn’t the time to play games. “Fez quit playing with me.”

Fez blew out smoke and you watched with bated breath. “Who playin’?”

You turned to face Fez a little more on the couch. “Fez.”

“Y/N,” he replied nonchalantly. It was kind of annoying how calm he was being about this whole thing. He glanced at you, noticing how obviously nervous you were. “Let me take you out.”

You had to stop your mouth from dropping open. “Huh?”

Fez smiled and laughed, and you thought it was a glimpse at heaven. “Let me take you out, ma.”

“Like a date,” you asked wanting to make sure you heard him right.

“Not like a date. A date,” he corrected then put his blunt back to his lips. You were having a hard time processing that Fezco wanted to take you out. While you were being stunned, Fez blew out more spoke then continued to speak.

“It’s cool if you don’t want-”

“No,” you shouted a little too eagerly. Your eyes glanced around to make sure no one was thrown off by your shouting. You looked back at Fez who had a smirk on his face and spoke in your normal tone, “I mean, I want to... Go on a date that is. I want to go on a date. With you.” God you were embarrassing. You blew out air as your eyes closed trying to compose yourself. Your hand rose covering you face.

Fez chuckled lightly, the smoke from the blunt rising from his lips. He reached over with his free hand to take your hand away from your face. “You’re cute.”

Your checks turned hot. “You’re killing me Fez.”

“My bad, ma,” Fez said smirking at you. He liked that he had this effect on you. “Just wanna show you how you should be treated by someone you actually fuck with.”

You bit your lip to try and stop your smile from growing too big. “I’d like that,” you said, nodding.

“Good,” Fez replied. “Tomorrow at 7 cool?”

You blinked a few times throw off a little. “Tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Why wait,” Fez asked relaxing into his seat more, stretching his arm over the back of the couch.

“Tomorrow’s fine, just thought I’d have a little more time to prepare,” you said as you followed Fez’s lead and leaned back into the couch. Fez’s arm relaxed over your shoulder now.

“What you need to prepare for,” Fez asked, a small smile on his lips before he casually placed his blunt back between them.

You chuckled out of nervousness. “Fez, I’m one of those girls that has to try on every outfit in her closet before deciding on the right one for a date. And consult with my girlfriends too.”

“Did you consult with your friends on what you wearin’ now,” Fez asked gesturing down to your current outfit with his eyes.

“No,” you said giggling. “But I probably should have. We showed up looking like we were going to three different parties.”

“You look good, Y/N. Just do that again, and you’ll be fine. I’ll love whatever you’re wearin’.”

Heat started to rise from your neck up to your ears. “What did I just say Fezco O’Neil? You tryin’ to kill me,” you asked then slapped his chest lightly with the back of your hand.

Fez laughed then raised his hands backing off. “I would say sorry, but I like watchin’ you get flustered and shit.”

You laughed with Fez. “Remember to tell the coroner that when they question how I died.”

After your laughter died down Fez eyed you for a second before he asked, “So tomorrow night then?”

“Tomorrow,” you replied smiling at him. You sunk further into the couch, Fezco’s arm draped over your shoulder gently pulled you in closer to him. Subtly, you tried to cover your growing grin with your hand. You were sure to the whole party you looked like a couple, but you didn’t mind it one bit.

[here4kpopfics]

Moaning On Stream

Pairing: Gamer!Seokjin x reader

Genre: smut, humor, a literal dash of fluff

AU: Established Relationship. 

Wordcount: 2,330

Summary: You just want to sleep in a little bit longer, but your boyfriend has decided to play a frustratingly difficult game on stream. However, his frustration sounds a lot similar to something else... 

Warnings: Language. Oral (M receiving). Is gagging a warning? Allusions to oral (f. receiving) and other sexual acts.

Rating: M / 18+

AN: We all saw it. We all heard it. Why Jin decided to play a frustratingly difficult game on vlive while giving us a very good idea of how he sounds in bed is beyond me. But I am forever thankful for him doing it. Thank you to the beautiful @btsgotjams27​ for beta-reading my quick moment of weakness. Sorry for the horrific last minute header. Just needed to include that face.

and as usual, please leave feedback. Either with a reblog or send me an ask. It’s greatly appreciated. 💜

Masterlist

You just want to sleep in a little bit longer. You had a long day yesterday, a great day actually, but a long day nonetheless. And all you want to do is sleep past nine in the morning, lounge around a bit with your boyfriend, and maybe have brunch later. After that, you can be a grown-up and focus on your responsibilities. 

But it’s eight am and you’re abruptly woken up by obnoxious screaming coming from the room over. You throw one of the firmer pillows at it, hoping your boyfriend would hear the light thump and take it as a warning. But the pillow barely hits. You roll onto your stomach, shoving your pillow over your head, and let your anger out into the mattress. 

You grab your phone to make sure he’s actually streaming before busting in there half-naked to yell at him. He is, which means you have to wait to unleash violence. You let the stream play, watching him play the game you showed him yesterday. He’s not good at it, hence the yelling. He’s trying to form actual sentences and have a real conversation with his audience, but every time, his sentences are interrupted by him chanting “hup hup hup” among other phrases. The problem comes when he’s almost at the top of an area and he moans. Fully moans on stream. And suddenly you’re wide awake and no longer angry. What on earth is he doing moaning on his stream?!

You give it another twenty minutes until he screams at the top of his lungs again, moaning out “stop stop stop, please stop,” as his character falls to the very beginning of the game. You throw the blankets off your body and bring your phone with you as you stomp off to his office, quietly opening the door so the mic doesn’t pick up any clue that he’s not alone. While you’re trying to be subtle about your entry, Jin couldn’t be more obvious as his head lifts to meet your eyes, a little panicked. He turns back to the game, actively not swinging the hammer correctly so his character falls again, and he gets up in feigned anger, muting the stream as he leaves the camera frame. 

“Jagi, what are you doing here? I’m streaming.” He lightly gestures to his desk as if you were an oblivious fool. 

“I was sleeping. Because it’s eight in the morning.” Your eyes narrow at him. “And I’m well aware of you streaming in your pajamas and moaning on stream, Jin.” 

“I’m not moaning!”

“Yes, you are. You’ve been doing it for half an hour.”

“I didn’t moan though? I’m just angry, this game is hard.”

You roll your eyes “Which is why I told you you shouldn’t play it.” You move to sit on the couch in his office that’s off camera. You bring his stream back up on your phone, silencing it. “Moan again, and watch what happens.” You send him a threatening glare and he moves back to his desk, confused. 

He resumes the stream saying he just needed to “walk off the frustration so I don’t swear on stream”. You roll your eyes, you know his fanbase would lose their minds if he said any bad words. But he made the decision to be “family-friendly” and you were about to test how family-friendly he could be as soon as he moans again in 

3…

2…

1…

“Ooohhhh! Why why why why?! Wha ahhhhhhhh,” He screams, spewing various words of frustration at mach 7. You roll your eyes. That’s literally how you sound when you come. You argue with Jin in your mind. You noticed the delay between real-time and the stream time is only like two or three seconds. You get up, sighing and ignoring Jin’s glance at you as you stand behind his camera, phone still in hand. You finally lift your eyes to meet his wide eyes and smirk as you drop down to your hands and knees, crawling underneath his desk. He knows what’s about to happen and instinctively scoots his chair forward, and brings it down a little so nothing can be seen on camera. 

You sit on your knees and shins, feet tucked under your ass that’s only protected by your boyfriend’s boxer briefs that you stole. You wait for him to resume his stream, setting your phone down on the floor next to you so you can see him on stream, talking with his viewers and trying to get through the game, waiting for him to fail. As you wait, you slowly run your hands up his legs and back down, every time you go up, you get closer to his thighs. Once you finally reach the meatiest part of them, he quickly spreads his legs for you. He shifts in his seat as if he’s asking you to get on with it. You respond by digging your nails into his thighs through his pajama pants. He groans, forcing his character down the hill again at the same time to cover up what was really happening. 

The second you hear him start to chant about the game again, and you see his character begin to fall, and this time because he actually fucked up, your hand reaches forward and palms him roughly. He lets out a moan between his angry chants and you have to resist the urge to laugh because it’s the same fucking noise he made earlier. You’re literally letting the world know what you sound like when we fuck. 

You resume your massaging of his bulge, watching for specific moments in his gameplay to really tease him by pressing harder or tugging gently. Once you feel him growing beneath the layers of clothing, you decide to go a little easier, tapping his hip to signal to him he needs to remove his pants and underwear. He looks over at his other monitor and turns off his camera and mutes his mic. He waits until his stream just shows his gameplay footage and he sees his viewers spamming F in the chat. Once it’s confirmed the camera is off, he quickly backs up the chair so he can lift his hips for you to tug both his pants and underwear down to his ankles. 

“You’re going to get me in trouble, jagi,” he quickly whispers angrily at you, but you don’t care. 

You shrug up at him. “Then don’t moan again. Don’t make a sound except for talking to your chat. Should be easy.” He gawks at you, unsure if he should put a stop to this. But he’s already hard and your mouth is heaven. You lightly tap his leg, “I think your viewers are starting to leave though. Should get back to it, babe.” 

He springs forward, scooting his chair back into position under the desk and turning his camera and mic back on, making sure to turn the mic sensitivity down as well so it doesn’t catch too much noise.

“Oh, sorry sorry. I don’t know what happened there. The webcam went down and then the mic. Weird stuff. Seems to be working again now, so let’s get back to it.” He trails off, getting back into streamer mode but keeping in the back of his mind that at any moment you’re going to torture him. 

You only have so much patience when it comes to teasing Jin and when it comes to wanting to satisfy him at every moment possible. So you wait only two minutes until you see him get close to the highest part of the game he had gotten to previously. That’s when you decide you can’t wait anymore and gently wrap your hand around the base of his cock. You felt it twitch as well as his entire body do a small jolt. You wait for him to resume, and when he does you slowly twist your hand up his perfect but still growing length, pressing your thumb against his tip. 

For the most part, the man you love and love to tease is doing just fine. Actually, he’s doing better at the game because he’s putting all his focus into it and not on your hand’s actions. That won’t do. You pull yourself up enough that your head is a little squished between the chair, his thighs, and the desk above you. But it’s the perfect amount of room to form enough spit, lay your tongue flat against his base, and lick straight up, ending with the tip of your tongue kitten licking his tip. 

That’s when you know you’re winning. A small, very faint, groan escapes Jin. He tries to pass it off as being frustrated by the mouse not being at the right sensitivity settings for it. You smile, bringing your hand down to massage his balls as you wrap your mouth around his tip, lightly sucking, licking up the precum that is slowly leaking out. You can hear his breathing get a little harder and since the game only requires the mouse and nothing more, his free hand reaches on the table to twist into your hair with his fingers, gripping and slightly pushing your head down. 

You go with his ask, easing your head down to try to take as much of him down your throat. His hips jerk up accidentally, causing his cock to hit the back of your throat which causes you to gag and pull off him only a little as your head hits the underside of the desk. You desperately try to keep quiet and suffer in silence while he prattles on about accidentally hitting his knee. He tries to casually hand you his water bottle, but you push it away, swallowing one last time before getting back to it. You relax your throat enough that you can bring him past your gag reflex and your nose is pressed against his pelvis. 

His free hand returns to your hair, a more gentle hold on it as he’s using it more as a precautionary tactic to prevent you from hitting your head again. His grip tightens only slightly when you start to swallow, your throat clenching around the tip and quietly gagging around him. His cock twitches slightly and you know he’s close so you almost pull off him all the way, leaving your mouth open to allow your saliva and his precum to drip down his cock, balls, and slide down to his chair. Giving yourself a second to breathe, you grip both of his thighs, getting into a better position on your knees before you begin bobbing your head up and down, using Jin’s hand as a guide of how high up you can go without making too much noise. 

Jin, however, is making plenty of noise. Which should concern you. Why is he moaning loudly, whispering things like “Jagi -ah. Ah- just…just like that. Fuck.” on his stream? Again, you should be concerned. But your desire to please your boyfriend outweighs any rational thinking sometimes so you go for deeper bobs, hesitating at the base to swallow around him. 

“Jagi, please. I’m going to come. Where? Where?” Instead of responding, you cease the bobbing and wrap your lips around him, sucking like your life depends on it until he lets out a loud high pitched moan like you heard earlier immediately followed by his cock pulsing in your mouth, shooting spurts of his hot white cream down your throat. You swallow immediately, not wanting a single drop to go to waste, and clean him up with your tongue. It’s only once you feel he’s cleaned up that you realize he was a moaning mess on stream. You look at your phone to see This Stream Has Ended. You crawl out from under the desk, glancing up at his computer to confirm that he did, in fact, end the stream at some point.

“Ya! That wasn’t part of the deal!” You yell from the floor, smacking his thigh. 

“I wasn’t going to make it! I admitted defeat! I had to end it before we became one of those couples that make porn together!” He shouts back, rubbing over where you just smacked. 

You stay seated on the ground, arms crossed, and pouting. That is until you realize he said he admitted defeat. “So you’re saying you lost? You’re a loser?” you quirk an eyebrow up at him. 

He slowly nods, “Yeah…I guess so?”

“Great! You owe me for not being quiet and you owe me for not following through with the deal!” You jump up excitedly, grabbing his hand and pulling him off his chair that’s a little sticky now. But that’s a later problem. You make him step out of his pants as you lead him out of the room.

You drag him back to your bedroom, kissing him with everything you’ve got until he pulls away. “Wait wait wait. What are we doing? What do I owe you?” he slightly panics as you unbutton his pajama shirt and push him back on the bed, urging him to slide farther up as you remove your underwear. 

“First, for failing to not make a noise, I’m going to sit on your face and you’re going to make me come twice.” You announce with a big smile, crawling on top of him and straddling his chest. “Then, you’re going to make me a delicious brunch because I’m starving after sucking your dick. Sound good and fair, loser?” You lean forward, squishing his cheeks in one hand and giving his big pouty lips a light kiss. He nods. “No, babe. You need to say it. You lost.”

“I lost, you won. Two orgasms and brunch, coming up.” You both laugh, lips pressing back together one more time before you move to line your hips up to his face. His big hands are holding onto your thighs as you lower yourself down to him, grinning. 

“Get to work, baby.”

Again, feedback is always appreciated 💜

[isshua]

Messianic Aureation

Chapter 6: Answers Lie Behind Forbidden Doors

Summary: With a disguise hiding her face and her friends by her side, Cara puts her plan to sneak into the library's restricted section to seek the answers she needs. Will she find information about her purpose and identity in this world, or will the false Creator's forces catch her before she can find success in her mission?

Sixth chapter is up now! It's a bit shorter than usual, but just as packed with intensity! Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated! Enjoy the chapter :)

Chapter 7 is here

There was a chilling wind biting coldly at the nape of Cara’s neck as she quietly followed Kaeya up the stairs leading to the Knights of Favonius Headquarters-an unnatural occurrence, considering it was the middle of summer in Monstadt. Her mind wandered back to her terrifying encounter with Venti, and she wondered if this wind was a result of his animosity towards her. She couldn’t help but steal glances at the roofs of the surrounding buildings, searching for the hateful eyes of Barbatos glaring down at her as he watched her from a place of hiding. All the more reason to get this over with as quickly as possible, she thought.

She didn’t know what to expect when returning to the headquarters she had harrowingly escaped from two weeks ago. Perhaps an increased number of guards, or maybe even Vision bearers like Amber or Eula keeping watch. Kaeya silently signaled her, Bennett, and Razor to duck down behind the staircase wall while he surveyed the area. He was gone for only a moment before he returned and gave them the sign to move forward. It was then that Cara saw there were no guards whatsoever; the two knights who usually stood outside of the headquarters entrance were gone.

“Where are the guards?” she asked Kaeya.

“Off to investigate a recent sighting of the imposter near Dawn Winery,” he replied with a knowing smirk. “Direct orders from the Acting Grand Master, with courtesy from an anonymous tip. They shouldn’t be back until we’re well gone.”

“How did you get them to do that?” Bennett questioned.

“As I said before, not everyone in the Knights of Favonius is our enemy. I got someone else of reasonable power to deliver my message to Jean, with the proper precautions, of course.” Kaeya opened the entrance door slowly, the hinges making a low creak. He poked his head in to survey the inside. “All clear. Let’s go.”

The lobby was quiet, with the only noise being the echoes of their footsteps bouncing off of the walls. After Kaeya did a quick sweep of reconnaissance and determined that there was truly no one in the building, he relaxed. “We should be alone,” he said. “But we don’t have much time before someone realizes that the anonymous tip was a trick. Bennett and Razor, you accompany Cara into the library. Lisa should currently be at Dawn Winery right now, and if I remember correctly, she leaves the key to the restricted section in her desk when she’s not here.”

“Why aren’t you coming along?” Bennett asked, brow furrowing in suspicion. “Are you planning to betray us and trap us here?”

“Someone has to keep watch in order to make sure the knights don’t come back too early, right?” Kaeya answered. “Relax, I promise you can trust me. Haven’t we been through enough together for you to know I’m on your side?”

“I believe you,” Cara said. “It’ll be okay, Bennett. If he wanted to betray us, he probably would have done it by now.”

“Well…alright,” Bennett relented. “But if this does end up being a trick to turn us in, I’ll punch you so hard you won’t know what hit you.”

Razor grunted in agreement. Though both boys looked fairly intimidating as they stared Kaeya down, the Cavalry Captain didn’t look alarmed at their threat, and only nodded. “I understand. Now go. We’re wasting time. Collect anything you can find on the Creator.” He grabbed Cara’s forearm and squeezed. “Please be careful, Cara. If the knights return, I will do everything I can to stall them so you three can get out safely. I could not live with myself if I allowed you to get hurt on my watch.”

She offered him a reassuring smile to mask the anxiety fluttering in her core. “It’ll be fine, Kaeya. Just promise me you won’t give yourself away if the knights come back. I don’t want you getting hurt, either.”

She turned to the library door, and with great caution, pushed it open. The hinges didn’t make any noise, to her immense relief, and they entered silently. The scent of books and dust hit her nose-a familiar smell, being that she had spent much of her time studying in her college library before her transport into Teyvat. The wall sconces and the massive chandelier hanging from the roof were dimmed to the point where they flickered like candles, casting limited illumination upon the interior. It certainly looked like the library was closed for the night, and from the sound of it, there really was no one else here except for them.

Bennett was the first to make it to Lisa’s desk. He opened its drawers one-by-one as quietly as possible, searching through them. “Uh, guys? I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but there’s no key here.”

“Let me check.” Cara joined him and rummaged through the desk’s contents. There were various papers written in what appeared to be German, a booklet filled with return receipts for different checked-out books, index cards, folders…but Bennett was right. No key. “Well, shit. This is a problem.”

“Maybe Teacher took key with her?” Razor suggested.

“Or Kaeya lied to us.” Bennett gritted his teeth. “I knew we shouldn’t have trusted him.”

“No, that’s not it. I think…I think Razor might be right. Lisa has to have the key with her.” Cara tried to return the desk’s insides to their prior neat appearance, both out of kindness and because she didn’t want Lisa to know someone had been looking through her private notes and items, then closed the drawers. “This wasn’t planned by Kaeya. I don’t want to believe it was, so until we have solid proof that he hasn’t betrayed us, I won’t believe it.”

“What do we do, then? Without the key, we can’t get into the restricted section,” Bennett said. “Do we try to knock the doors down? It wouldn’t be a problem with Razor’s claymore.”

Razor shuffled his feet. “Teacher will get mad if I do that…don’t want to destroy.”

“You won’t have to,” Cara said. “We’ll find some other way in.”

They left the desk and headed down the staircase leading to the bottom floor of the library. Each light Cara passed seemed to respond to her presence and glinted madly when she walked by. The silence of the library had her on edge, and with how silent Bennett and Razor were being as they trailed behind her, she could tell they were feeling anxious, too. Soon, they were standing in front of the massive oak doors of the restricted section. Cara pressed her hands against them and pushed; they remained stubbornly shut. “Shit, they’re locked,” she said.

“Here, let me try.” Bennett grunted when he pushed against the doors with all of his might. Still, they didn’t budge.

“What made you think you would have any chance of opening them if I didn’t?” Cara questioned.

“Pure luck?” Bennett replied with a shrug.

“Shhh!” Razor suddenly hushed. He jumped back from the doors. “Someone is coming! Through the doors! Hide!”

Cara couldn’t discern what Razor’s sharp hearing was picking up on beyond the wood of the doors, but she trusted Razor’s senses to know this was a serious matter. She dove behind a large column that also acted as a bookshelf, pressing her arms to her sides and trying to make herself as slim as possible, so that not a piece of her would be seen. Razor and Bennett did the same with another bookshelf column parallel to hers. Thankfully, it was wide enough for the two of them to hide together. There was an agonizing moment of silence…and then, footsteps. The restricted section’s doors opened. Cara carefully peeked out from behind the bookshelf and saw Lisa walking out. In her hand was a simple brass key.

Cara’s heart leapt. That has to be the restricted section’s key. So, Lisa’s been here the entire time? What about the anonymous tip Kaeya sent out? I thought she was supposed to be with the knights.

Unless someone specifically told her to stay here to be a guard in case I tried anything like this.

Vermillion eyes flashed through Cara’s mind. Could this be the work of the entity ordering Monstadt to hunt her down? It wouldn’t surprise her, but that didn’t mean she was ready to accept that theory. Lisa didn’t look particularly mind-controlled when she locked the restricted section’s doors and walked past the columns. Her eyes weren’t red, and she appeared to be quite exhausted. Cara saw her yawn and mumble incoherently to herself when she started for the stairs to the library’s upper level. The key was slipped into a pocket; internally, she cursed. Fuck, how are we supposed to get into the restricted section now?

And then, to her immense shock and horror, Razor suddenly jumped out from behind the bookshelf and made a bee-line for Lisa. “Teacher!” he yelled. “Wait!”

Lisa turned around. “Razor?” she said dumbfoundedly. “I thought I heard someone shuffling around out here. Sweetheart, what are you doing in the library all by yourself?”

Razor answered her by promptly flinging himself at her and sending her falling to the floor. Lisa yelped, her hat flying off of her head. Something metallic clattered loudly, but Cara couldn’t tell what it was. “Razor-!” the librarian started to say.

“I could not find you all day!” Razor said as he hugged her tightly. “I missed you! Came to find you, so I can get a bath!”

Lisa’s expression softened. She helped Razor to his feet and brushed her disheveled hair out of her eyes. “Oh, Razor, I would love to set up a bath for you, but I don’t think I can right now. Jean needs my help with something very important.”

“Please?” Razor begged. “Doesn’t have to be a long bath, just a warm one. Will Teacher help me?”

Lisa sighed. Razor was giving her his best puppy dog eyes, and Cara knew the wolf boy had her confirmation even before it was verbally expressed. “Now that I think about it, I can’t remember the last time you got a bath…alright, just a quick one. Let’s go see if Jean wants to help.” She picked up her hat, brushed it off, and settled it atop her head. Razor took her hand, and the two of them disappeared up the stairs. Cara waited until she heard the opening and shutting of the library door before she emerged from her hiding place. “Bennett?” she whispered.

“I’m here.” Bennett walked over to her, eyes dazed confoundedly. “I don’t understand. Why did Razor do that? Lisa was going to leave. She wouldn’t have noticed him if he didn’t give himself away.”

Cara opened her mouth to answer, but stopped when she noticed something on the floor where Razor and Lisa fell. When she crouched to observe it, she gasped. “Bennett, look!”

She picked up the key and held it up to the light of the chandelier. Everything about it seemed real, though part of her felt like it was some sort of illusion. “It’s the key to the restricted section!” she said.

Bennett gasped. “It must have slipped out of Lisa’s pocket when she fell!”

“Or Razor secretly grabbed it out of her pocket when he threw himself on top of her. Don’t you see? Razor gave himself away to help us. He must have known that Lisa wouldn’t suspect him of doing anything suspicious because he’s her pupil. She would never believe that Razor would be helping an imposter.”

“Wow, that was clever. Kudos to Razor for thinking of that one!” Bennett frowned. “But still, I hope he’ll be okay. I feel bad that we’re separated.”

“I think he’ll be fine. Lisa wouldn’t hurt him. She is his teacher, after all.” Cara went over to the restricted section doors and pushed the key into the lock. With a twist and a loud clunk, the doors unlocked, and this time, she pushed them open with ease.

They were met with a wall of darkness that was so thick, she couldn’t see anything beyond it. The scent of books and dust was even more prominent here than in the regular section of the library; it hung so heavily in the air, she could practically taste it. It was a clear sign that this place wasn’t meant for the prying eyes of typical citizens…and that made Cara feel even more nervous than she already was.

“Bennett,” she whispered. “We need light.”

“Got it.” A ball of flame erupted in Bennett’s hand. Rows upon rows of bookshelves appeared with the arrival of the Pyro power. “Here, give me your hand. My fire won’t hurt you unless I want it to.”

He took her hand and gently pressed the Pyro against her palm. Warmth flooded through her as the fire was shared, and when he pulled away, a ball of flame identical to his was left behind. Cara waved the fire carefully in front of her. Though the flames licked at her skin, no burning pain followed. “Woah. I had no idea you could do this.”

“Not many people do. Pyro is seen as an aggressive element that’s meant to destroy. I’ve learned that it can do more than that.” Bennett observed the bookshelves before them. “So, how are we going to do this? Should we just grab random books and hope they have information about the Creator?”

“I mean, I guess? There are so many books here, but there’s no telling where writings on the Creator could be stored.” As she observed the seemingly endless rows of bookshelves, she felt a sense of helplessness descend upon her at the thought of how much ground the two of them had to possibly cover in such a short window of time, but she didn’t verbally express it for both her and Bennett’s sake. Stressing about this would only make things more difficult for them. “Let’s just start with the closest row and clear it together. I’ll go to one end, and you go to the other. We’ll meet at the center and then repeat with another row if we don’t find anything.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Bennett grabbed a book from the nearest shelf. “We’ll get through this together. If you find anything, just call for me, alright?”

“Okay. Good luck.”

“You too.”

With the help of Bennett’s fire, she went to the very end of the row and started to browse through various books. Each one held information that definitely could be counted as 'restricted content.' In one book, she found spells of necromancy with horrid pictures of decaying zombies rising out of graves. In another, there were anatomical pictures of dissected hilichurls that made her want to vomit. She flipped open book after book, yellowed pages crinkling as she read their secrets, if she could manage to read them at all: a few of the books were written in languages that were completely foreign to her. All of the ones she could read held forbidden wisdom, but so far, after what felt like hours of reading, she hadn’t found a single thing about Teyvat’s Creator. She shoved a book back into its place with a frustrated huff. “This is never going to work,” she muttered.

And then, she felt it. The previously stagnant air vibrated around her and whispered against her ears with barely enough power to be noticeable. It was a similar phenomenon to her first escape from Monstadt, when the wind spoke to her and urged her to run and not look back. “Over here,” it breathed in the form of a soft sigh. “This way.”

She followed the call until she was standing in front of a bookshelf she hadn’t searched yet. Bennett was just a speck of Pyro light in the distance, a flickering orange blob barely noticeable through the darkness between them. Cara scanned the spines of the books, waiting for the air to give her orders. “Well?” she whispered. “Which book should I take?”

A breeze brushed against her left cheek. Cara lifted her hand to the tiny cold draft and followed its trail to the end of the bookshelf. Her eyes landed on the spine of a book that immediately stood out to her from the others; this one was completely accented in a golden color that matched the hue of her scars and blood. She reached out and took it, and when she saw the cover, her heart stopped.

Gracing the thick hardcover book was the image of a white six-winged dragon with piercing gray eyes and a golden halo…the same exact dragon from the stone tablet in the grove where she had awoken on her first day in Teyvat.

“Bennett!” she called. “Over here!”

Bennett’s boots caused sharp echoes to ring through the room when he ran to her side. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Did you find something useful?”

“This book,” she answered. “This book has to have answers. Whatever writings are in here will tell us how to get me home.”

“Well, then what are we waiting for?” Bennett shook her shoulder eagerly. “Open it, open it!”

Cara started to flip open the book’s cover, when her free hand abruptly began to burn with a pain akin to being shocked by a spark of electricity. The book flopped onto the floor, a cloud of dust erupting from its pages. “Ow, fuck!” she hissed.

“Woah, what happened?” Bennett asked, alarmed. “Are you okay?”

Cara flexed her hand and noticed little specks of purple Electro crackling painfully over her skin. They dissipated shortly, and that’s when she tentatively picked the book back up. This time, it didn’t shock her again, but when she pressed her palm over the cover, she didn’t have to concentrate to feel that there was some sort of elemental power attached to it. There was a faint scent of static in the air. Suddenly, the translucent image of a purple hourglass appeared over the cover.

“Oh, I know what that is!” Bennett said. “It’s an elemental spell! Lisa casts them over every book in the library so she can track them down if they’re stolen or not returned on time. Fischl and I know from, uh, experience. I don’t know how to remove one, though. I think only Lisa can do that, or you’d need an Electro Vision to cancel the spell out. Ugh, we really need Razor.”

Cara’s fingers itched. Some instinct rose within her, strange and unlike any sort of feeling she had ever felt before. It was telling her to lay her hands upon the book, but she had no clue what would happen if she did. She stared at her free hand. The scars on her wrist glowed in the light of her and Bennett’s fire. What do you have to lose? she found herself thinking. You need this book. If there’s a way to get rid of Lisa’s spell, then take it. Bennett, Kaeya, and Razor think there’s some hidden power within you. Maybe this instinct is that power.

“Hold your fire closer,” she said to Bennett. She shook out her ball of Pyro and held her extinguished hand over the book’s cover. For a moment, nothing happened. And then, golden light started to glow from her hands. She heard Bennett gasp, but paid him no mind-it was like she was lost in a trance, her mind focusing solely on Lisa’s spell. The light grew brighter and brighter, until it was outshining Bennett’s fire. The hourglass sigil began to rise off of the book, shuddering as it gave resistance and attempted to remain attached to the item it had been cast to protect. But it was no match for whatever sort of power Cara was using, and quickly yielded. The protection spell shot into her hand, strands of silken Electro snapping free and contracting, dangling limply like the discarded skin of a snake. Energy thrummed through Cara’s veins when her fingers automatically closed and crushed the spell into a scattering of tiny fractured pieces. Purple sparks fizzled through the air, and then all was dark. The golden glow retreated back into her hand, as if it hadn’t been there at all. She returned to reality with a lurch, a small breath releasing from her lips as she realized what she had just done.

“Woah,” Bennett whispered. “How did you do that?”

“I have no idea,” she whispered back. Everything that had just happened was pure instinct, but there was no time to think about what she had just done now. They could do that later. Her backpack manifested over her shoulders when she reached for it. “We have to go,” she said as she shoved the book into her pack.

“You just…removed the spell with your bare hands.” Bennett was looking at her as if it was their first time meeting. “Spells like that are supposed to be impossible to get rid of without using elemental energy, but you did just that! What was that glow? I’ve never seen something so golden before! That had to be your true powers! They’re beginning to return!”

“Can we talk about this later?” Cara asked. She stood up and hurried for the doors. “Something feels off. I don’t want to be here anymore. Let’s go and meet back up with Kaeya, and then we’ll try to find Razor.”

“Okay.” Bennett was running beside her, eyes filled with a wondering excitement. “I can’t believe I just witnessed the power of the Creator. That was so cool!”

Cara placed the key in Lisa’s desk when she and Bennett made it to the library’s upper level. She opened the main door, preparing to call for Kaeya and tell him their mission was a success-and nearly ran into a wall of armored knights.

She stumbled back and nearly tripped backwards into Bennett, who had frozen momentarily upon seeing the knights in front of them with their swords pointed forward and their eyes cold and angry. At the front of the hostile party was Eula Lawrence, her claymore resting by her side as she looked at Cara with a glare that could make an Archon cry. “Well then, look what we have here,” the Spindrift Knight said. “The little imposter, snooping around places she doesn’t belong in. I would be lying if I said I was surprised, but Her Grace blessed me with her voice and let me know you were here, so frankly, I’m not.”

“Um.” Cara’s mind went racing. This was not what she was expecting to see after coming out of the library. What are Eula and a bunch of knights doing here? Aren’t they supposed to be at Dawn Winery? Where’s Kaeya? Is he okay? You have to distract them. You have a disguise on, you can trick them!

“What imposter?” she blurted out. “I, uh, I’m just…a Fatui soldier. Notice the mask?”

She wanted to slap herself. Yeah, that’s right, tell the Favonius Captain that your part of a Snezhnayan terrorist group. That’ll really convince her to back off. God, when did I get so stupid?

“Do you take me for a fool? Don’t make me laugh.” Eula scoffed condescendingly. “I know it’s you beneath that mask, heretic. How dare you come here, breaking into the headquarters of Monstadt’s protectors, walking around like you own the place? Who do you think you are? In the name of the Almother, vengeance will be mine! I will bring your head to Her Grace myself!”

Bennett forced himself in front of Cara and took out his sword. “How did you know we were here?” he barked. “You stay away from Her Grace! I won’t let you hurt her!”

“Ah, and look. You seem to have brainwashed someone into believing your lies.” Eula raised her claymore and pointed it directly at Bennett. “You would be wise to step aside, boy. With how young you are, I would like to believe there is some chance we can save you from damnation. Let me kill the imposter, and you may live to seek forgiveness from Her Grace.”

“Over my dead body!” Bennett yelled. “It’s you who's been brainwashed! I just saw Cara use a power only the Creator could possibly have! If you let us go, she’ll be the one to let you live!”

“How dare you?” Eula roared. Her Vision activated with the intensity of her emotions: a gust of icy wind emanated from her and pushed Cara, Bennett, and the rest of the knights back. “You dare to call this heretic the Creator’s name? I take back what I said before. You are obviously a lost cause! I will have vengeance for this! Knights, attack!”

With a war cry, the knights rushed forward. Bennett planted his feet firmly and brought back his sword, flames of Pyro swirling across its blade as his Vision glowed intensely. With a powerful thrust, he released the built-up energy and sent the knights hurtling back with the sound of roaring fire. Swords went clattering to the floor. Knights crashed into each other and groaned. Only Eula stood unaffected, the cold of her Cryo Vision shielding her from much of Bennett’s attack. Cara took the turn of confusion to grab Bennett’s arm and flee.

“You can’t escape!” Eula screamed. “Get back here!” She swung her claymore at them, the edge aimed right for Cara’s neck. But Bennett managed to parry the blow with his sword, shoving Eula back and rushing in. The battle was like a dance: Eula was obviously stronger and had the deadlier weapon, but Bennett was faster, and dodged her strikes with ease. His Pyro easily burned through her Cryo, rendering her Vision useless and forcing the knight to rely only on her raw claymore skills.

“Cara, stand back!” Bennett yelled. He launched himself into the air with a boost of Pyro, raised his fist, and slammed back down onto the floor. An eruption of Pyro energy was released and encircled the both of them in a protective barrier. The symbol of a thumbs-up flashed across the floor: an Inspiration Field. Bennett had just used his ultimate attack. The walls of the headquarters shuddered, bits of stone raining down upon their heads. Cara could have sworn she felt the floor crack from the power of Bennett’s impact.

Eula staggered and was forced to go on the defensive. She held her claymore in front of her and let her Cryo power block her and the other knights from the intense blast of heat. “Let’s go!” Bennett cried to Cara. The two of them pelted out of the headquarters as fast as they could.

She heard the yells of the knights behind them, and one glance over her shoulder confirmed her fears: Bennett’s burst had only offered a temporary distraction. The knights were following, with Eula leading the front. When playing Genshin Impact, Cara had initially believed the young aristocrat’s dedication to swearing vengeance was just a masking of her true intentions to keep a list of people she wished to repay with kindness. Now, however, she could tell that Eula truly was hellbent on fulfilling her vow of violence by literally taking Cara’s head from her shoulders. The Song of Broken Pines claymore she was wielding proved that.

“Quick, this way!” Bennett yelled to her. They ran down the staircase and past the fountain in front of the Grand Goth Hotel; Cara felt a serious sensation of déjà vu as they did it. This time, however, instead of running in the direction of Monstadt’s side gate like she did the last time she was caught in this sort of situation, they squeezed through the narrow opening between the hotel and a wall to come out onto a wide stone balcony overlooking the row of signature shops.

They weren’t alone for long. Knights came running onto the balcony from the left and the right, boxing them into the center. Bennett grabbed Cara’s hand and pulled her towards the balcony wall. “We have the jump!” he yelled.

“Are you kidding me?” Cara protested. She looked over the wall and saw how far the ground was. “But I don’t have a glider!”

Bennett was already scrambling over the edge. “I’ll catch you! There’s no other way we’ll escape!”

“Stay where you are!” a knight ordered. Cara pressed closer to the wall, at a loss of what to do.

“Cara, you have to trust me!” Bennett cried. He desperately stuck his hand out to her. “Come on!”

One knight swung his sword. Cara narrowly avoided it and swore. “Fucking shit,” she muttered under her breath, then climbed onto the wall, hesitated for only but a second, and jumped. An instinctual scream erupted from her throat, and she closed her eyes, waiting for the impact of her body splattering against the ground. But two hands grabbed tightly at her wrists, and when she opened her eyes, she was gliding through the air with Bennett holding her up. The young adventurer was obviously straining to keep both of them aloft, the wings of his glider working on overtime with frantic flaps. They descended at a rapid pace, and when they were close enough to the ground, Bennett’s glider withdrew, and he let her go. Both of them were separated by their tumbled landings.

“Bennett, are you okay?” Cara yelled. She pushed herself to her feet with a wince and tested her arms and legs. No broken bones seemed to have been procured, which was definitely a good thing. Bennett stood with similar shakiness. “Yeah,” he responded. “I’m fine. I think we might have lost them for now-”

He had spoken too soon. Some of the knights had followed their path down and were jumping with gliders of their own. Four of them landed much more softly between them, separating Cara from Bennett. One of the knights grabbed Cara’s arm. “Nowhere to run now, imposter,” he spat into her face.

“Let go of me!” Cara screamed. She slammed a fist across his face and sent him staggering backwards with a pained cry. More knights closed in on her. She backpedaled away from them in a panic.

“Cara!” Bennett cried. He was fending off the knights with blows of his sword, attempting to clear a path to her. It didn’t take much to see that the knights had a serious advantage; there were more of them, and there was no way Bennett could fight them all. She looked over her shoulder and spotted the main teleport waypoint floating nearby, the same one she always used to teleport into Monstadt in order to craft or receive her rewards for completing her commissions. An idea popped into her head. If the teleport waypoints worked for her in the game…would they work for her now?

There was no more time for stalling. The knights were closing in, and she couldn’t even see Bennett anymore through the crowd of white-and-gold armor, let alone know if he was even still here at all. “Bennett!” she yelled at the top of her lungs. “I’ll come find you! I promise!”

“The only place the two of you will be finding each other is in a prison cell.” Eula strode towards Cara, glowering at her. “You will be coming with me. Cooperate, and I might let you keep your head until Her Grace decides your way of execution. Somebody fetch me a pair of handcuffs. This little imposter’s days of spreading heretical lies are over.”

When Cara saw a knight give Eula handcuffs that were identical to the ones she had been forced to wear at the hands of Lawrence and Swan, she panicked. She whirled and ran, knowing that if those things were put over her wrists, there would be no opportunity to escape them a second time. Her hands slammed against the cool stone of the teleport waypoint when she got to it. Its blue light was slightly numbing when it washed over her skin.

“Come on, come on, come on,” she muttered, closing her eyes and focusing on the hum of the waypoint’s power. “Get me out of here, please! Take me anywhere but here!”

A clatter of metal and unsheathing swords caused her to open her eyes and look back. The knights had her surrounded. Eula didn’t look impressed. “That mechanism is a device from ancient times,” she said. “It doesn’t work for anyone here, and it will not work for you. Don’t make this harder than it has to be. Your death is imminent, and you might as well accept that you have lost. Give up the fight, little imposter. Don’t resist, or I might just have to cut off your legs to prevent any more escape attempts.” She reached for Cara, the handcuffs open and ready.

“No!” Cara screamed. She shied away from Eula’s grasp. “Get away from me! Don’t-!”

The teleport waypoint suddenly let out a loud beep. Warmth rushed through Cara’s body as the mechanism’s blue glow intensified. Shouts of alarm rose from the gathered knights. Eula stepped back, eyebrows rising in surprise.

“She activated the waypoint! She’s going to escape!” a knight yelled. “Somebody grab her before she gets away!”

At least a dozen hands all shot forward, including Eula’s. But it was too late. The waypoint’s light grew so bright, it completely enveloped Cara’s vision, and then she was sucked backwards into a vortex of swirling blue. An incredible force pressed in on her from all sides, squeezing the air out of her lungs. Agony quickly had her in its horrible grip. Her mind and body were being stretched to their very limits. She opened her mouth to scream, but no noise came out. Did she even have a mouth anymore? Did she have a body? She couldn’t feel her arms or her legs, nor could she sense the presence of her heart or lungs. This gyre of energy the waypoint had thrust her into was consuming her very existence, and it hurt, it hurt so much.

“Get me out!” she thought she howled, but her voice was lost, and she didn’t even know if she still had the capability to speak at this point. “Let me out now! Stop it, stop it please, stopstopstop-!”

The pressure crushing her body suddenly relented. Everything was spinning, and the wormhole’s blue color collided with pure white, opening up into a light that blinded Cara completely. The roar of the vortex released with a loud beep, and then Cara was falling, landing on a surface that she could only fleetingly recognize as soft, wet, and cold. Her body was back, but it was heavy, and she found that she couldn’t breath. Spots danced across her vision when she tried to open her eyes.

She had no idea where she was. She didn’t even know if she was alive. Before she could find it within herself to begin to think, unconsciousness consumed her, and she was drawn into its great black wings. The howl of the wind was the last thing she heard before she completely blacked out.

[spacerockfloater]

Lmfao, it always makes me wanna laugh when people try to ague but instead of just straight up reblogging what they want to say, they leave it in the tags. As if this is some kind of protection? Lol?

Okay @chaosordoffl , let’s talk!

We really ARE in hell because we’re living in 2024 and people still have no media literacy.

“Rhaenyra shouldn’t be left alone with a man who’s not gelded” HELLO???? LMFAO WHERE DID YOU GET THIS??? IS THIS THE OTTOMAN EMPIRE??? Y’all are so misogynistic what the fuck? And in what way, shape or form is Criston responsible for how Westerosi society deals with the whole “women being alone with men” thing? You just pulled this rule out of your ass. And let’s not fucking forget that it was her own fucking UNCLE that groomed her and initiated anything sexual. And Rhaenyra was all for it. Criston denied her THREE times. Lets be so for real. Btw, calling him a MAN when he is barely twenty and callin Rhaenyra a PWINCESS when she’s 18 to make the age gap between them seem like an issue is so fucking disgusting. This is the least disturbing age gap we’ve seen in HOTD.

My “fave fuckboy” got laid once in his life. He is literally VOLUNTARILY celibate and he only had sex with Rhaenyra because he thought she really loved him. “Rhaenyra never promised him anything” ok YOU’RE the one who sounds like a fuckboy and btw I didn’t hear her tell him this is JUST casual sex beforehand. Or that she was ready to fuck her uncle before him and she came to him ONLY bc Damon didnt go all the way lol?? Wanna know why? Because the MOMENT she would tell him this, Criston would have turned around and walk away and Rhaenyra knows it. Sex MEANS something to him. And yeah, when Rhaenyra kept whining about how much it sucks being who she is and that she hates it and keeps neglecting her duties, and he was the one to keep telling her “Hey, you’re actually in a good position and people would die to be in your shoes Nyra” and she kept shutting him off, why the fuck would he not think “Damn, maybe she really wants to get away from here?”???? If you keep telling me how much for life SUCKS even if I try to convince you otherwise, fuck me for actually listening to you and trusting your worries I guess. Let’s blame Criston for BELIEVING Rhaenyra was actually unhappy when she told him so!

“No Criston you don’t get it, everyone here hates me and I hate them, I don’t wanna see Alicent and my half siblings ever again, I hate my dad, I just KNOW he’ll replace me with Aegon, it’s inevitable, I dont wanna marry ANYONE, EVER, it absolutely sucks being me!” wow ok, fuck Criston for taking her word for it after the MILLIONTH time she told him all that I guess???

And if you open your eyes, you’d see that in my original post, I point out that Rhaenyra has EVERY right to deny going away with him: IT WAS HER RIGHT TO CHOOSE WHAT HER PRIORITIES ARE, I say in my original post. Criston simply had NO obligation to sit there and be her whore either??? What the hell is that???

And by the way, sure, I do want EVERY rich person to experience poverty tbh. Why the fuck not? All that bullshit about hard work and hunger and shit are things that people experience on the DAILY. If anyone should experience it, it’s the rich, you bootlicker. And that’s still completely irrelevant because Criston didn’t tell her “come struggle with me”. He told her “Look, you hate this, I’ve broken my oath. All I want is you. I’ve been poor before, I can work hard to provide for both of us. I’m willing to leave my POSITION THAT I FOUGHT ALL MY LIFE FOR behind, as long as I have you.” Did Rhaenyra have to say yes? Of course not. But his proposal shows that he cares about HER and his values more than he cares about glory or gold or whatever and that’s so fucking noble. And we’ve somehow villainised him for that!

Laugh all you want, that’s what clowns do best babes, mwah!

EDIT: Claiming that Cole, a simple knight, was in a position of power and could destroy her with one word is actually what we need to laugh at. Otto was a lord and Hand of the King. Aemond was a prince. Vaemond was a lord. They ALL spoke publicly about how Rhaenyra is up to some nefarious shit and they all got fired, maimed and died. Rhaenyra was untouchable. You people know nothing about real power and it shows.

Being a female viewer and hating Criston Cole is deranged.

I have to get this off my chest. The blind hatred that Criston is receiving from women is insane and I’m going to explain why.

For context, I am talking about Show Criston, not Book Criston. Comparing two standalone versions of a story is silly.

I cannot wrap my head around the fact that so many women, who are the primary victims of utilitarian relationships, would ever come together and shit on Criston for enduring such a situation.

I’m sorry, but how many of you have been used by men? How many of you have been reduced to one night stands, situationships and placeholder wives? How many of you have been deemed “not good enough” to be an exclusive partner? I log into tiktok and I see NOTHING but stories of broken women who are just used for sex, money, care and whatnot by men, and then they are tossed away like worthless trash while said men continue their pursuit of the ideal woman. Being used by men just for sex and being denied the status of girlfriend, let alone wife, is probably one of the worst plagues women are experiencing in the western world because the MOMENT we were emancipated, men understood that they don’t owe us shit anymore and instead of treating us with respect, they decided to grab whatever they can and give nothing back. Do not tell me that there are women out there that are fine with this arrangement because the multiple “GWM while I tell you about the guy that was with me for 12 years and then married someone else” tell a different story, one of multiple women’s dignities being trampled by hungry men. My heart breaks for every woman (EVERY woman, cis, trans, EVERY woman) who has been called by a man she loves just for sex, for every woman whose man never wanted to be seen in public with her, for every woman who had to hear that her man is not ready for a relationship only to witness him getting engaged to another woman 2 weeks after. I hope you overcome this and become stronger and I am glad that we are finally supporting one another.

How can we then, the women who are helping other female victims rise up and speak out against this kind of abuse, push Criston down and tell him to suck it up and accept being Rhaenyra’s plaything? Have we no mercy? Are we so hungry for revenge against men that we’d want them to endure the same humiliation that we did, as if one fictional man’s suffering would bring us justice? Are we so jealous that Criston didn’t sit down and just take it like the rest of us, but instead spoke up and removed himself from that situation? Or are we so gullible that we accept what the screenwriters shove down our throats and unknowingly support the patriarchic view that if you’re being used by someone you should just accept it?

I can hear some of you arguing that “Oh, this is different because Rhaenyra is royalty!” as if being used and tossed by a powerful person somehow makes the situation any better? Would it be okay if a rich person wanted to constantly use you for sex while he keeps looking for a better woman to be by his side, just because he values his wealth and status more? Rhaenyra straight up sneered at the idea of a simple life with him. She straight up told him that HE is not worth as much as her crown. OUCH. Even though I can’t even begin to imagine the pain of being told you are not enough by your loved one, it was Rhaenyra’s right to choose what her priorities are, but WHY would he have to accept being her sidepiece? “These were different times”: does this make it any less devastating for the victim? And he was a victim because Rhaenyra still used Criston and misled him by constantly complaining about how she HATES her duties for YEARS and then luring him to break his oath. Do you think he would have still slept with her if he was aware that moments ago, Rhaenyra was begging on her knees to be fucked by Daemon and only turned to Criston because her first option was no longer available? Like, the man was contemplating having sex with her and resisted her for a good fucking while, so imagine how quickly he would have turned around and walked out that door if he had that information beforehand. You know why? Because he loved her. He loved her to the point that he broke his oath for her, the oath of a station he FOUGHT FOR IN A WAR. He shed blood and sweat and risked his life for the mere opportunity to gain that position. This was ALL he had, he came from NOTHING and he was still willing to toss it all away for Rhaenyra not once, but twice. It wasn’t just sex he wanted because we never see him have sex again after that. He became vulnerable and gave up everything that he was to be with Rhaenyra. He was willing to abandon his whole identity for her sake. Is this not what the ideal partner is? Ready to abandon everything for your shake? Everything he fought for, tooth and nail? Was he unreasonable in thinking that Rhaenyra was willing to do the same for him? Was he crazy to think that because he was ready to put everything he FOUGHT for aside for her shake, Rhaenyra would also put aside a duty she was handed and actively seem to hate for him too? Fuck no! After hearing her constant talk about how she hates her father, her duties, her refusal to wed other men, how she is trapped as a princess, how people have no idea how much it SUCKS being her, why would he not assume that she’d be willing to give it all up for him, as he’d do for her We never see Rhaenyra even TRY to be a ruler, just complain about it. Of course it would be a fucking shock to him hearing her say “Lol dude, I actually do kinda want this”.

Criston was actually the only person in the series that wanted Rhaenyra for her, not her money or crown. I’m not saying she had to follow him, it was her right to refuse him, but his willingness to lead a simple life with just her has got to mean something. And don’t give me that “he only wanted to redeem his honour by marrying her” crap, because first of all Criston nutted up and admitted everything to Alicent and was ready to face death without EVER blaming Rhaenyra for anything, and second of all, oh no, how dare a human being have ethical values and desire to live with dignity in society’s broad light rather than move in the shadows as the princess’s secret boytoy! Bad, bad Criston for feeling you have to atone for your sins. Maybe we as people have become so corrupt that we envy those who wish to walk a virtuous path in life. Or maybe y’all have become so fond of the unhinged unapologetic character trope because it feels “original” (even if it’s ridiculously overused nowadays) that you’ve actually forgotten what characters with good morals are. Like, picking your fave war criminal and rolling with them because you enjoy good drama, especially in a show that’s meant to provide entertainment, is one thing, but passionately stating that Criston had to submit to that humiliation is something else entirely.

Finally, let’s ditch the Criston being a misogynist bullshit because he had NO issue obeying Rhaenyra before their affair or Alicent. And he is ALWAYS true to himself and his values, because even after everything he endured, he did not use Alicent’s anger as an excuse to take revenge on Rhaenyra and harm her children. Criston never betrayed her, Rhaenyra used him and he walked away and he went towards the only person who seemed to spare him some sympathy and understand him and not condemn him for his crimes even if he hated himself, which is typical victim mentality. And don’t get me started on the Joffrey incident because y’all tore Cole to SHREDS for it. Joffrey had it fucking coming. You don’t go up to people’s faces, especially ones you don’t know, threaten them by telling them you know their secret, a secret that SHAMES them and burdens them to the point they’re ready to commit suicide, and all but directly call them a whore. What the fuck did he think was going to happen? They’d shake hands? Piss off. Let this be a lesson to anyone that doesn’t know how to keep their mouths shut and their noses out of other people’s business. Also, mocking his suicide attempt makes my stomach turn. Just take a moment to consider all the young women who just like him, reluctantly surrendered their virginities to men only to find out they were nothing but sex dolls in their eyes, all these girls whose trust led to their secret being spread and them getting ridiculed and slut shamed for it: how many girls have taken their own lives because they found living with such a burden unbearable?

For the love of everything you hold sacred, please wake up sisters. The narrative that you can be used by someone powerful and you have to accept it because that’s the way things are is a man’s construct. Do not let them fool you.

[wri0thesley]

i know we all love toji being nasty, but i'd love to see a (slightly) sweeter side of him and the reader as mamaguro, if possible?? maybe featuring the reader in his lap, the first time toji's ever really wanted to really do right by his partner... the ability of a man like him to have a softer side has plagued me ever since akutami said he mellowed out with his wife 😭

saying the important things - toji x fem!reader (2.1k)

toji’s not the kind of man who wears his heart on his sleeve. but he’ll try, for you. 

warnings: none! reader is mamaguro and uses fem pronouns, pregnancy is briefly talked about. this is just soft honestly

[reblogs/comments appreciated! // my jjk masterlist]

Megumi is sleeping.

He lays in his crib, his chubby cheeks squished against the soft mattress, his hair dark and messy. At times like this, you can see so much of Toji in him, and it makes your heart ache. You can’t believe that you helped create something so perfect – from his tiny face, the tilt of his nose, the perfectly formed fingers and toes . . . You find it hard to believe that Megumi could really be yours.

“You’re starin’ at the kid again.”

Toji’s voice comes from behind you and startles you – you jump, guiltily turning to see your husband. His voice is dark and rough, but as you see him you realise that his face is anything but. Oh, sure – he has a scar bisecting the corner of his lip, muscles rippling out of a tight black shirt. But the look on his face is peaceful, and as he meets your eyes it just seems to fade into something even more so.

“You come stare at him,” you say, “you’ll understand why.”

He makes a little huff of amusement – but Toji Fushiguro is under your thumb, so he humours you by moving forward. Big arms wrap around your waist, making you feel safe and held in his embrace. His chin rests on your shoulder, sharp green eyes on the messy-haired bundle of wonder sleeping in the crib that you’d watched Toji build with a screwdriver clenched between his teeth.

(“How hard can it be?” He’d asked you. “S’flat pack, right? Guys who aren’t half as smart as me do it--”. In the end, it had taken six and a half hours and Toji had had to physically pick you up and sit you down on a chair because you couldn’t stop bending down to help. He’d placed his hands on his hips and pointed an accusing finger at you. “You’re gonna get yourself stressed, sweetheart, and it isn’t gonna do any good for the kid.” You hadn’t expected Toji Fushiguro to be the over-protective kind . . . but you’d be lying if you said that his pout and furrowed eyebrows weren’t adorable).

Megumi’s eyes had turned the same shade of green as Toji’s around the five month mark, for the record.

“We did a good job, huh?” There’s a hint of pride in Toji’s voice that he does his best to dampen down – he’s trying to be cool, even now. Your hands come to rest over his own, where they’re clasped onto your hips.

“I think we did a great job,” you tell him, and snorts out a little laugh against your neck that tickles, making you bend back into sub-consciously. “No, really. I think he’ll fetch a high price on the black market. Look at all of that hair.”

“Takes after me,” Toji tells you. “I think I’d fetch a high price too.”

“You know you’d fetch a high price,” you say, turning around to wrap your arms around his neck. You find yourself on your tip-toes just so you can feel a little closer to equal to him. “You’re a wanted man, Mr Fushiguro--”

“You’re a wanted woman, Mrs Fushiguro,” He says, bending his head – and his lips brush across yours, and you feel your entire body fill with the heady knowledge that he wants you. You know it – he makes it clear in the gentler way he holds you against him, his attempts to do chores around the house, the way his fingers entangle with yours when you’re out doing grocery shopping as a little family. But there’s something that you can’t quite express that feels all the more special about the embrace and the words when you two are on your own.

It hadn’t always been like this.

When you’d first met Toji, he’d been all dark flashing eyes and dangerous smile and tugging hands, a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth as he flirted and charmed his way into your life. His voice had been dark and deep, he’d winked at you and made insinuations and insisted, occasionally, that this wasn’t a relationship so much as a mutually beneficial arrangement--

Until someone else had flirted with you in a club and Toji had grabbed your hand and pulled you into him, arm wrapping around your waist. Perhaps you’d been trying to make him jealous – you’d long ago accepted that your crush on Toji and desire to make him yours officially were going to come to a sticky end, seeing as he seemed to value his freedom so highly – but you hadn’t expected it to work.

He’d murmured into your neck that night that you were his, forever, and he never wanted to see someone else’s hands on you again--

“Does this mean I can call you my boyfriend, finally, then?” You’d asked, a hand cupping his cheek, thumb brushing the scar on his lip. Toji had grinned at you, dark and deep and dangerous but warmer than you’d ever seen it. He’d held you that night like he’d just realised how precious you were.

“Sweetheart,” he’d said to you in response. “Hell. Y’can call me your husband if you want.”

You had laughed and thought he was joking.

“Maybe I’ll try that after a proper proposal,” you’d said, tapping his nose. You’d expected him to grab your hand before you could make contact and pin you underneath him, tell you off for being so cheeky – but instead, the pad of your finger had made contact with it and you swore you’d seen a dark flush dust his high cheekbones.

You’d figured that was the end of it, until two weeks later he’d pulled out an expensive-looking ring whilst the two of you watched a movie.

“Well?” He’d asked you, looking almost uncomfortable – almost afraid that you might say ‘no’. “Whaddya say, angel? Gonna try callin’ me husband now?”

And you had.

He’d confessed everything to you before he’d asked about taking your name. His exact line of work, why he wanted to leave his old surname behind – and though you know you shouldn’t have, you’d simply taken it in stride. If this was what it took to have him, you would accept it; it had been too long, and you loved him too much, to simply walk away. You’d found out you were expecting Megumi six weeks before the small wedding and had told Toji immediately.

He’d seemed scared, but he’d seemed excited to – whirling you around like you weighed nothing before he anxiously put you back down and stepped back.

“That’s fine, right?” He’d asked. “I dunno much about kids. I haven’t hurt ‘em or anything, have I?”

He’d made a real effort around the house whilst you were incapacitated by your pregnancy, too – sometimes too much of one, as he batted away your attempts at cooking or cleaning with an insistent ‘I can do it, sweetheart!”. You’d let him make mistakes – honestly, a couple of disasters notwithstanding he’d made a decent effort.

You’re not afraid to leave Megumi alone with him, though Toji still hasn’t quite mastered the life skill of ‘talking to my baby as if he is my child and not simply a friend who I want to slightly intimidate’.

Sometimes you see Toji sat in an armchair with Megumi in his arms, a tiny hand wrapped around Toji’s massive thumb, and you think you could die from how much you love them both.

“C’mon,” Toji murmurs, breaking the kiss. “He’s fast asleep.”

You let yourself be dragged over to said armchair in the corner of the room, next to the little case of children’s books you and Toji had chosen for him

Megumi likes dogs; he claps his pudgy little hands together whenever one is introduced in the bright colours and flat pages. At nine and a half months, he had furrowed his little face and pronounced; “Gog. Goggy.”. Toji had grabbed the cheap camcorder that he’d been recording as many milestones as possible on and tried to bully Megumi into saying it again, but all of the footage he’d actually gotten was you laughing in the background as Megumi attempted to cross his chubby little arms and look at his father in disapproval. He had not said ‘goggy’ again until you had thoughtlessly picked up a little pair of black and white stuffed dogs whilst in a toy-shop with him to show him. Toji had had to go back to the shop ten minutes before closing to purchase them, and even now Megumi tucks them under his arms when you take him out in his pushchair.

You let yourself, too, be pulled into Toji’s lap as your husband gets comfortable, readjusting your body so he can wrap his arms around you and you can bury your face into his neck.

He smells like cigarettes and your laundry powder, familiar and comforting.

He takes a deep, pleased breath that makes the muscles in his throat ripple – you bring up a hand and trace them, fingertip lodging in the hollow of his throat for a moment before your hand moves down to rest over his clavicle, and then where his heart is beating steadily under his clothes and skin.

“You feelin’ me up, baby?” He asks with a smirk. “Y’can just ask, you know--”

“I’m feeling your heartbeat,” you say to him, listening to his pulse in his neck. “I think it might have stopped. We should look into it.” “Is this because I made that joke about the black market? Babe, you’d never let me fuckin’ sell our kid--” “Don’t swear around Megumi,” you say, automatically, your eyes swivelling to Megumi’s crib without moving your head from its comfortable position. “You’ll give him a dirty mouth.”

“You love my dirty mouth,” Toji purrs, the arm around your waist pulling you in tighter and closer. Heat rushes to your face and you give him a headbutt in the neck that’s half affectionate and half warning.

“Not now,” you say, sighing comfortably. Toji is warm and solid and always there for you. “I’m too comfy.”

“Ah, far be it for me to interrupt your nap-time,” he teases, but he pushes a kiss onto your forehead anyway. “Hell, I could go to sleep here myself. Nobody said havin’ a kid would be this much effort.”

“Everyone said it,” you say, stifling a yawn. “You just didn’t believe them.”

He snorts again.

“Y’got me there,” he says. “Wouldn’t change him for the world, though.”

“You’re just saying that because he takes after you,” you smile against his skin. “If he looked like me and acted like me, if he was sweet and demure--”

This gets another laugh from Toji, who knows exactly just how not sweet and not demure you can be.

“I’d love him even more, probably,” he says. “We’re gonna have some fuckin’ blow-ups in the future, sweetheart. Good job you’ll be around to sort out your men, right?”

The arm not about your waist moves so he can cup your face now, tip your chin up towards him. His eyes are still very sharp, but they’re softened with love as he looks down at you. Toji gives you these moments in the quiet of night – when he’s not formerly-of-the-Zenin-family, when he’s not the ‘Sorcerer Killer’, when he’s not an assassin-for-hire – when he’s just Toji Fushiguro, your husband and father of your child. You treasure every single one of them and hold them close to you like a precious pearl, stringing them onto a necklace of memories you’ll cling to forever.

“I’ll be around forever,” you tell him. “If I die, I’ll come back to haunt you and tell you what a shitty job you’re doing on the PTA.”

He snorts.

“Don’t even joke,” he tells you with a flickering smirk – but that smirk quickly drops away to be replaced with a look of intense solemnity. “You know I love you, don’t you?”

“Are you getting soft on me?” You ask, but the hand tipping your chin up does a little jerk.

“Please,” Toji says, a little softer now. “Let me tell you I love you and mean it.”

Sparks fly all through your stomach, your heart twisting in your ribcage. You rarely see this kind of gravitas on his face – he rarely takes this tone, almost needy as he implores you to listen.

“I love you too,” you breathe. “You know that.”

He pulls you into a kiss that knocks the breath out of you, that makes you feel like you and Toji and Megumi are the only real people on Earth and everyone else is an imitation.

“Yeah,” he says, gruff. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like hearin’ you say it, though.”

[asonofpeter]

Cherry Pop | Vl

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Into her final year of college, Reader feels pressured by her “friends” to lose her virginity. So she enlists the help of Peter, her older, much more skilled fellow Avenger. Completely casual…

Warnings: Angst in the beginning, Reader is sad but Peter cheers her up so fluff!

Word Count: 1330

A/N: The last chapter 🥺 It's short and sweet, but thank you all to everyone who has liked, reblogged, and commented to show your support! I have had such a great time hearing your comments and it was truly a fun time writing this story! Enjoy! 💕💕💕

Nat and Bucky were the only ones in the kitchen when you entered through the elevator doors. You heard them giggling about something while they scrolled through Nat’s phone. Probably those old-school internet memes you introduced to Bucky a few months ago and he’s still making his way through its history.

Your heart clenched more when you took in the sight before you. Nat was sitting on his lap while his arm was wrapped securely around her waist. He would hide his face in her neck as his face turned red, Nat throwing her head back on his shoulder.

God, why was everyone in love?

You cleared your throat to ensure it wouldn’t crack when you spoke. Both of their heads lifted and their faces dropped when they looked at you. Nat quickly assessed what was wrong by what you held in your hand.

“Is that the cake you and your friends get when one of you loses your virginity?” Bucky gasped as he saw the bright red wording.

You hummed in delight at his excitement. At least he knew how to bring up your mood.

“Yeah, I took it from them, have at it,” you slid it over to him along with a fork from the drawer.

“I’m guessing you and Peter did have something going on?” Nat asked a knowing smirk on her face. “Figured that date was something more when Wanda wouldn’t tell me,” she comfortably rubbed your back as you took a deep breath.

“Yeah,” you said, a frown on your face.

“You don’t seem too happy about that,” Bucky furrowed his brows, licking frosting from his lips. “The boy didn’t do anything he shouldn’t of, right?” he grew defensive, about ready to kill the spiderling.

“No, it was everything I wanted, he’s fine,” you reassured him, playing with your fingernails to not look at them.

“Then what’s wrong?” Nat questioned, growing more concerned.

“My friends got mad when I told them my first time was just about sex, that I was bragging,” you furrowed your brows, still confused why they lashed out so harshly. “I didn’t want them to get mad but,” you blinked away some tears, not finding the words.

“It’s not your fault, it’s on them for pressuring you to be like them,” she pulled you in for a hug.

“Thanks, Nat,” you mustered. “I think I’ll head to bed, kinda want to forget about all this,” you slid your arms off the counter, sulking up down the hall.

~~~~~

Your heart wouldn’t stop thrumming in your ears. The anxiety built on and was begging you to walk past Peter’s door. It was more logical to leave him be and continue your life the way it was. Alone and unloved.

But that gut feeling in your stomach pushed you towards his door.

Your knuckles banged on the wood, your ears listening for his response. His adorable voice rang through the wall, allowing you to enter. He was seated at his desk, only his lamp illuminating the room.

“Back so soon?” Peter asked while he pushed away from his desk, seeming to be fixing his web-shooters.

“Yeah, didn’t want to share all the juicy details,” you joked, taking a seat on his bed beside him.

“Something wrong,” you knew he sensed it and that gut-wrenching feeling only became worse when he reached for your hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

You glanced down at his hand for a split second, currents of electricity shooting up to your heart and you bit your lip.

You nestled into his touch, squeezing his hand back, and sighing as you closed your eyes. His touch was so addicting. It was intimate and felt more than just sex, but you don’t know how true that was. After everything he has given you, at the end of the day, you fear it was just for practice. Just to show you how you should be treated.

But you didn’t want someone anymore. You want Peter. You want him to want you. You want Peter to be yours. You want to be his.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Peter wiped your fresh fallen tears with his free hand. “What happened?”

He was trying to coax you to say something, tears continuing to wet your cheeks and all he could find himself doing was wiping them away. When you knocked yourself out of it, you wrapped your arms around him, hiding your face in his neck.

You held on tight, needing to feel him close because your heart couldn’t fathom the idea that this wasn’t real.

“Does it bug you? That the whole world watches?” you questioned, words muffled. “Everyone calling you things you know you’re not?”

You heard him take a deep breath, hand rubbing small circles on your back.

“At first, but you get used to it,” he replied, face filled with sorrow. “As much as the world watches you, you have to know deep down they’ll never know the truth,” he cooed, voice lowering.

“I know that I shouldn’t listen to people, but I feel like they’re right,” you huffed. “How do you stop listening to them?”

“You don’t,” he said. “You just drown them out so much you can’t hear them anymore,” he shrugged. “Who said this, Y/N, the tabloids?” he furrowed his brows.

“No, it was my so-called friends,” you wiped your tears. “They called me a slut and they told me I was going to be alone forever and I can’t help but feel they’re right,” you squeezed your eyes shut, another sob escaping you.

“And why would you believe them?” he smoothed a hand over your hair.

“Because I’m incapable of love,” you sighed.

“Why?” Peter furrowed his brows, genuinely curious.

“Because of my past, Hydra ripped everything human of me and with what remains—I feel will ruin anything good,” you confessed, tears streaming down your face.

Your past had been buried enough as it is. Genetically modified to be the perfect soldier, you were ripped of humanity from the moment you were born. Even after the Avengers rescued you, there were territories you never wanted to cross. Love is one of them.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone, I’m unlovable,” you repeated.

He scoffed lightly at that, his thumb grazing over your cheekbone while he stared at you.

“I disagree, you haven’t ruined anything, you have great relationships with everyone on the team because you’re probably the most lovable person I know,” he cupped your face and you gaped at him.

“You think I’m lovable?” you gripped his wrist, fresh tears falling.

“You arranged that romantic getaway for the couples on the team last Valentine’s Day because you knew they haven’t spent time together, you surprised Sam by flying out his family for the holidays when he missed them, you gifted Bucky with a cat on his birthday to help with his PTSD, and you aided me back to health when no one else could,” he listed off, an adoring smile on his face.

“It healed properly, no scar,” you brushed the spot on his side where his gash was two weeks ago.

“Because you look out for those that matter in your eyes,” he added, taking in a breath. “It’s okay to have your doubts, Y/N, but they shouldn’t prevent you from experiencing life’s greatest gifts”.

“It’s scary, though, I don’t want to hurt anyone,” you stated.

“Practice with me then,” he offered, a smile on his face and your heart thumped. “You’ll never be able to hurt me,” he mused.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you feared.

“You won’t,” he shook his head, his hand grabbing your chin gently, eyes raking over your lips. “Because I’ll be yours and you’ll be mine,” he whispered. You pressed your forehead against him as you felt joyous tears fall from your face. “And I don’t let what’s mine hurt me”.

Your lips brushed over each other and you sucked in a breath as your lips collided together.

His.

~~~~~

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Partners in Crime 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, Lee Bodecker

Summary: you're left reeling after your divorce but the chaos has only begun. (short!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You hate the mall. Too bright. Too loud. Too fast. 

That day isn’t so bad. Tuesday, mid-morning. Most people are at work. Not you. Your part-time gig barely pays the bills, let alone keeps you busy. With that in mind, you shouldn’t be there to spend what little you have.  

It’s for a good cause. It’s your grandmother’s birthday next week and you owe her. After all she’s done, you owe much more than just a measly mall-bough gift but it’s all you can manage right now. One day it will be better. One day you will be able to pay her back. At least you keep telling yourself that. 

She paid for it all. Your way out, your lawyer, your apartment even. You can’t live in the senior’s community with her, that’s against the rules, but she parsed out some of her nest egg for the flat in the old brick building. For you. She’s the only one who ever did so much for you but what did you ever do for her? 

It’s not for lack of trying, only your own poor decisions. 

You enter the sparkling Swarovski store and keep your arms tight to your body, paranoid of breaking any of the numerous crystal pieces. You don’t know what she would like. It isn’t because you don’t know her well, you just don’t think she has much use for any of it. She’s always been painfully practical. That’s why you never wanted to ask her for help. 

An associate startles you as she appears beside you in her sleek black pantsuit. She offers help but you get the sense she’s checking in, making sure your hands aren’t sneaking into your pockets. You make sure to keep them visible and move your satchel across your back. You tell her you’re just looking and blow out between your dry lips. Maybe a hoodie wasn’t the best choice. 

It was meant to be a solution. You wanted to get out of your grandmother’s hair. How long had you been living with her? He was the answer to that. You thought so. You wanted to believe it. For ten years, you tried. He always spoiled it. 

Then she had to bail you out anyway. 

As you come to the sharp corner of a shelf, you’re startled by another customer. You hadn’t seen them when you came in or heard them. You glance at them fleetingly and turn your attention to the shelf of Mickey Mouse decorations. Definitely not those. 

“Excuse me, sweetheart,” the man frightens you again as he nears and presses his hand to your back. He sidles by, and you dodge away from him, coming dangerously close to colliding with the display of birthstone necklaces. 

You shake off the close brush and blink at the glass. You peek over at the man as he seems overly interested in a paper weight shaped like a dove. His mustache and sleek haircut make him look like he’s been plucked out of some gangster period piece.  

The associate shifts from one side of the counter to the other. She’s watching you. You sigh. She still thinks you’re a thief. You shake your head and leave. 

It’s not worth the trouble or the money. You can find something better. You know you could get your grandma a box of chocolates and a card and she’d say she’s happy. You don’t want to get her what works; you want to do something for someone. Something more than just be there. 

You go down to Hallmark. It’s a similar atmosphere with a hint of warmness and more range in price. Still too much Disney and not enough variety. Your grandmother doesn’t need a rustic crate or a door sign with some snarky saying about wine. 

You stop to look at cards. You can at least grab one of those. As you reach for one along the top row, another hand swipes it from your grasp. You back up and look at the culprit. It’s the same man as the Swarovski shop. Strange. 

You recoil and scurry down the aisle towards the door. Is he following you? It could be a coincidence. Two stores. If he’s looking for a gift too, it makes sense. 

You cross your arms and march quickly through the bright mall, the skylight glaring down at you. You walk in and out of a clothes shop. You don’t know where you’re going now. You’re frazzled. 

You find your way to the As Seen on TV shop and meander around without intent. You’re at a loss. You’ll just end up at the bookstore like always. Another book for her birthday. Wowee. 

She might like the salt rock light. You don’t know. Ugh. 

It isn’t the gift. It isn’t her. It’s you. You’re indecisive. You're lost. Even if it was misery, you miss having someone to tell you what to do. Now you have to think and you do too much of that. 

“Those are pretty cool,” a voice slices through your self-pity. 

It’s the same man. Your eyes meet as you look up to see him. You blanch and open and close your mouth. The shop is so small, how hadn’t you heard him? 

You retreat without a word. He must be following you. There’s no other explanation. What do you do? You can’t just lead him out of the mall, back to your building, but how can you divert him? 

You find a bench down the next aisle of the mall, somewhere the associates in the vitamin store can see you. You’re safe there with people around. You look up and down, searching for the man and his mustache. Just a mother with her stroller. 

You’re paranoid. Stupid, just like he said. It’s all in your head. You’re just fucked up. You don’t know how to live in this world. Not alone. 

“Excuse me, ma’am,” the timbre tickles up the back of your spine and you twist to see the figure behind you. It’s an officer in uniform. “Mind if I ask ya something?” 

You nod and blink. You don’t like the cops. You haven’t spoken to them since the night it all came crashing down. The flashing lights, the sirens, the questions. It’s all a haze yet it’s stamped into your psyche. 

“Yes, sir,” you stand. 

He’s got dark brown hair and bright blue eyes. His shoulders bear a slant of authority as he has his hands on his hips. He’s taller than you, but so is everyone. You look across the bench at him as his white shirt pokes out from under his leather jacket, his belly straining the fabric. 

“You don’t gotta trouble yerself,” he shows his palm and reaches with his other hand to his belt, “I’m lookin’ for someone and was wonderin’ if maybe ya saw him.” 

“Oh?” You crinkle your forehead. 

“Got a pic somewhere,” he frees his phone from the clip on his belt and flicks his thumb over the screen, “here we are.” 

He turns the cell toward you and you can’t help but make a face. The image is blurry but it’s definitely that same man. You look back the way you came and gulp. 

“Reckon by that, you’ve seen him,” the officer says. “Sheriff Bodecker,” he introduces as he retracts his hand, “I’m doing an investigation. Mind if I ask some more questions?" 

“Well, I... didn’t talk to him.” 

“That’s fine,” he peers down in the same direction you did. The infant in its stroller begins to yawl and his cheek ticks, “how about you come out to my cruiser and we’ll do it there? Less ruckus?” 

You purse your lips. You can’t really say no, he might think you know that guy, whoever he is, whatever he’s done. You shrug. You don’t have much to say. You’re sure it won’t be much of an interview. 

“Okay,” you agree.” 

[alieinthemorning]

In Your Eyes Reflected Mine [Childe | Tartaglia | Ajax]

Content: First Meetings, The Abyss, Pre-Chapter 1: Act I: Of The Land Amidst Monoliths, Reader-Insert

Pronouns: None

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.

He never thought that in this lifetime, he would meet someone with eyes like his. As dark as the depths of the oceans, with no hopes of light ever penetrating it.

He just wasn’t expecting to see it in you.

That experience, three months that were a mere three days in Teyvat, changed him. From that shell of a shriveling child to a dog of war just days after he emerged from the Abyss. But, the Tsarista didn't give him the title of Childe for no reason, he had to keep up the boyish charms. Even if there was a beast lurking beneath the surface.

Ah, how amusing.

You, however, were quiet and to yourself. You were skittish around other people, and after doing a bit of…reconnaissance, he learned that you didn’t leave your house for days at a time.

Since that was the case, he decided to approach you directly,

“Excuse me.” He tapped your shoulder, holding back a smirk as you harshly jolted.

He had to admit, you were significantly more beautiful up close.

“Oh.” You frowned, outright glaring at him. “How can you smile?”

Ah, I guess not everyone was so lucky, but Archons did that one question fueled his curiosity more. He simply raised his brow at you.

You sighed, annoyed. “I was pushed into the depths, was stuck down there for three months, and when I returned I was cast out from my village who thought that shouldn’t exist. I was only thirteen.”

He nodded, “But you were only gone for three days, why—”

“No.” You cut him off sharply. “I was gone for three years Teyvat time."

He raised a brow, noting how your eyes flickered to the crowd around you before returning back to him. “And were you alone?”

Your frown deepened, “What do you mean? Of course, I was.”

Oh.

Oh.

He wasn’t expecting you to be so different from him.

He needed to find out more.

“How about we talk more about this over dinner? My treat, of course!”

You looked like you were going to outright decline him, but you paused.

“I refuse to sit in a restaurant, so you’ll have to order it to-go. Make sure you’re not seen, I don’t want the Millelith knocking at my door for colluding with a Fauti Harbinger.” And with that you made your exit, quickly blending into the crowd.

Now it was his turn to frown.

How the hell had you known he had been following you?

He felt his lips twisting into a smirk.

"Things are finally going to get interesting around here.”

I should revisit this two at some point...

Ko-Fi | Commission | Masterlist

[iceysghost]

NXX Boys and Your Wedding: Part 1

Tears of Themis: Vyn Richter x Rosa (MC) Reader

Word count: 578 words

CW: slight mentions of sex

Back in Svart, weddings were always done in large halls. Always with tables and chairs so pristine they’d be funeral pews. Always with uncomfortable greetings from people you barely even knew.

The groom always in a black suit and tie, devoid of color. The bride always in an extravagant dress no one could possibly breathe in, let alone dance in.

Weddings were just like any other social event: always rich, always long, and always fake. Who would worry about the bride and groom, if they always had to worry about the price of the reservation hall or the abnormally long guest list?

This wedding, however, had no always.

A Haspran would never get married in a garden. A Haspran would never have real friends. A Haspran would never even fall in love with a commoner.

However, Vyn was no longer a Haspran. He was a Richter.

Behind bushes and beds of flowers, his heart was beating fast. He shouldn’t be nervous, he thought—they’ll think you don’t love her, they’ll think you’re not ready for marriage, they’ll think you’re a coward—

“Is our favorite Dr. Richter getting cold feet?”

Marius. His best man.

“You’re looking quite dapper if you ask me. What’re you nervous for?”

What was he nervous for? Rosa? No, she’d be beautiful, and happy to marry him without a doubt (or would she?). The venue? No, he did everything to make it simple, but presentable and comfortable. The guests? No, only his closest friends would be there.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Something feels so right but so wrong?”

“Are you still scared of what your family would think?”

Vyn went quiet. He was still thinking of the great banquets back at Svart. Thinking of what his parents would say about him and Rosa.

‘Who said you couldn’t get married like this? It’s your wedding, dammit. Who said she couldn’t wear a simple dress? Who said you couldn’t wear a red suit— a red suit, why are you wearing a red suit?”

Roses were beautiful, and their thorns pricked, sure. But the thorns of a rose are to protect itself from things that might harm it.

Those who would want to appreciate the rose’s beauty must learn to either avoid the sharp thorns, cut them off, or willingly let themselves be wounded.

If Vyn wanted to love Rosa, he couldn’t just ignore her rigor and passion in work; he couldn’t ask her to tone it down. He could only fall hard for her and embrace every part of it. Only touch her with trembling hands and bleed out on his white coat turned crimson.

This is why I love her, he thought. I’ll bleed for her, and her only.

“Fix your tie, Mr. von Hagen. it’s loose.” He walked quickly across the grass and nudged Marius in the shoulder. “The ceremony’s starting soon.”

And just like that, he was back to normal. Vyn was ready to bleed for her, bleed for the rest of his life.

But what Vyn didn’t know is that he didn’t have to bleed. Rosa could cut her thorns just for him. Rosa could cure his wounds. Rosa would do anything to make sure he was comfortable.

He only realized once everyone went home, alone in their room, red coat thrown to the side, white shirt slightly unbuttoned, that she would not make his skin red to bleed. Rather, to kiss his scarred but beautiful skin, leaving lipstick all over his chest.

A/N: I am an inexperienced writer, so I accept constructive criticism (both on the story and my use of tumblr). Let's see how far this will reach lmfao. Reblogs and likes aree greatly appreciated!

[lollypopsx]

Flatmate! Harry: I’ll Make It Up To You - Part 1

Warnings: Swearing, slight angst 

Please like if it’s not too shabby, reblog for anyone who may enjoy this and follow if you want to see more! Any suggestions are happily taken for future writing! I love you all! be safe and be kind x

Part 2 - Part 3

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You was going to kill him. This was the last straw and you had used up every ounce of patience today.

“Harry Edward Styles! Get in here right now or I swear to fucking god you won’t ever breath again!” You shout, your hands clutching the towel wrapped around your body. Your hair styled in a bouncy blow dry with a full face of makeup, a brown smoky eye and a nude lip.

The two of you bicker and argue like enemies, laugh like the best of friends and love each other like a married couple. Although you were only flat mates and nothing had ever gone further than friends, you knew Harry would never see you in that way, however the tiniest part of you had always hoped one day you’d be proven wrong. But you knew all along you’d rather have him as a best friend than lose him all together.

You hear the footsteps round the corner and a grin like the Cheshire Cat plastered on Harrys face “Do you mind? I’m trying to write some music Y/N” he smirks.

“Where the hell are all my clothes?! And where the fuck is my guitar?!” You shout angrily. You were no stranger to practical jokes in this house, both giving and receiving them. But today was different. You had the most important audition of your lifetime, and half of your room had been emptied. 

The laughter escaping Harry’s lips was making you angrier and angrier by the second. “I told you that you’d regret stealing my jumpers!” He smirks.

“That doesn’t mean you take everything I own! Now where to hell is it all?!”

“Ah now you see…this is where it gets fun…you see we’ve made you a little scavenger hunt to find it all. All you have to do is-”

“We?! Who’s we?!” You growl through gritted teeth.

“Ok ok…I can’t take all the credit for this…Niall helped. So…here’s the rules!”

“Harry!” You cut him off “I don’t have time for a fucking scavenger hunt! I have my audition in an hour and I’m already running late! Just get me some fucking clothes and my guitar so I can leave!”

As soon as you had mentioned your audition, the smug grin fell from Harrys face and his rosy cheeks had drained to pale “oh shit. T-that’s today?! I…I thought it was Friday” he frowns “w-well all your stuff is in Niall’s car and he’s in Brighton so I can just get him to drive back asap and…” he fumbles for his phone quickly.

“Brighton?! Harry you have 3 seconds to tell me this is a joke before I rip your pretty little head off! That’s 2 hours away Harry! I’ll never make it in time!”

“Y/N I’m so sorry! I am I really am, I would never have done this today if I knew” Guilt filling his eyes.

“You knew Harry! It’s written on the fridge, on the calendar and you helped me rehearse two days ago!”

“Why don’t I just go and buy you something to wear?” He offers, although he was currently terrified to speak incase his head really did get ripped off. He hadn’t seen you this angry since you pierced holes in three of your ex-boyfriends tyres after finding out he cheated.

“Well that’s pointless because I haven’t got my guitar and you don’t even have your acoustic guitar here. Forget it Harry. Just get out.” You mutter, your head hanging low in disappointment. Even if you left now you’d be late, and that was frowned upon. Turning up anywhere late was bad enough, let alone an audition. If you’re going to turn up late, then there’s no point turning up at all because you wouldn’t even be given a chance. The entertainment business was a difficult place to be, and this was your one chance to really make something bigger for yourself and it was ruined.

“Y/N I…”

“I said get out!” You scream, releasing the built up fury “go and join Niall in Brighton for all I fucking care. Leave me alone. I’m so disappointed Harry” you felt the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.

The sight of you on the verge of tears was enough to break his heart. He wanted to protest, he wanted to make it all better. But he knew you too well. He knew if he didn’t leave you alone to calm down then it would make everything worse than it already was. He had never felt so guilty. In the 4 years you had lived together, practical jokes never made either of you angry. Sure they were embarrassing at times, but you two always had the best of times. At what made it even worse this time was that he had made you cry…and you’d used the ‘D’ word on him!

Harry had left, shutting the front door quietly as he headed to the studio to get out of your hair for a few hours. Also calling Niall in the process to get him to get the fuck home asap. It may have seemed like a pretty extreme joke, but they didn’t intend it to turn out this way. The plan was that the scavenger hunt would lead you to Brighton with Harry to meet Niall there, and the three of you would spend the day and night by the beach, shopping, drinking, eating...everything that you loved to do.

As hours passed, you found yourself tucked under the mountain of blankets on the sofa, wearing a pair of Harry’s boxers, joggers and a white hoodie. Which you purposely chose because your makeup rubbed off on the collar and the sleeves as you wiped your tears. 

You felt deflated and disappointed. You should have been more prepared...no actually, Harry shouldn’t of been a dick. You knew he didn’t mean to jeopardize your audition, but these auditions didn’t come along often and part of you just wasn’t ready to let this go yet.

Harry crept in quietly, although you didn’t hear him, or at least you didn’t want to. “ Hey...Y/N” he whispers softly, walking through the living room door cautiously.

“Hm?” you mutter, not allowing yourself to speak a word to him, and especially making sure your eyes were glued to Netflix, not giving him the satisfaction of paying attention.

“I...I got you these” He whispers, placing a big bouquet of red roses and white lilies on the glass coffee table in front of you. You looked straight passed them “Oh wow...maybe I should send these over to the directors and producers to say sorry and maybe they can make an exception for little Y/N to try again!” you state sarcastically, but your facial expression staying as blank as possible.

He sighs softly and perches himself on the arm of the sofa, he gently pulls your shoulders back for you to rest your back against his thigh. “I know it doesn’t change what I did Y/N, and believe me if I could of changed anything I would, and if I could turn back time, I’d do anything”

“You really fucked up Harry” you whisper, your voice cracking gently as you wiped your tears on the sleeve of his hoodie. “You don’t get it. You’re Harry Styles and you get everything handed to you on a plate because everyone already knows who you are! You’ve done what like...three auditions in your life and you’ve succeeded every single one. It’s not like that for me. I spent hours and hours practicing. And weeks just writing these songs in hope they get heard one day and now they won’t because word spreads really quick in this industry.” You still couldn’t bring yourself to look into his eyes, because you hated people seeing you cry. 

He sighed softly, staying silent as he pulled you up gently and sitting himself underneath you as he wrapped his arms around you tightly. He was always the first to help you rehearse when you had an audition, the first to comfort you if it went wrong or you didn’t succeed, and the first to celebrate and congratulate you when you did get it. Unfortunately, this time no one will ever know how it would have gone. He knew he couldn’t say much else because he knew you were right.  

You wanted to resist, but instead you buried your face into his chest and whimpered softly. As disappointed as you were, you knew Harry was truly sorry and he’d hang onto this guilt for a while. He held you close as his gentle fingers raked through your hair.

“I’ve put everything back in your room, all folded and neat” He whispers “I’ll make it up to you. I promise” He kept his arms around you supportively, although his chest was heavy with guilt, he already had a plan conjuring in his mind. 

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