#✮⋆˙ - when i knock at a hundred and two

[ms-demeanor]

For the record, I *DO* have email management strategies and I'm willing to share.

This is for work-specific email in a dedicated application. I use outlook for work but this could apply just as well to thunderbird.

Tip One: Try to make your emails all visible within a single scroll. Depending on your screen size this will be somewhere between seven and twenty emails. If you can see everything it's going to be less overwhelming.

That *does* mean that you first need to work through the big pile and then need to periodically do a reset-to-zero.

Tip Two: Make a million folders and subfolders. At my old job my inbox had subcategories like "order/vendor" info and then sub-sub categories like "invoices from specific vendor" and "tracking from specific vendor." Make as many folders as you need in whatever system seems logical to you. Make subfolders by coworkers, make subfolders by client, make subfolders by subjects. When you've looked at an email but you can't just delete it for some reason, drag it to the appropriate subfolder.

Tip Three: Silence the noise. A huge amount of the email that comes into my inbox requires no action on my part - it's an alert that doesn't need a response, or me being cc'd on a thread that isn't important. When I have email overwhelm the FIRST thing that I do is set a ten minute timer, then go through and remove as many of these "noise" emails as I can in that amount of time. Frequently that's a hundred emails in ten minutes but I'll spend three days not looking at my inbox because it's got hundreds of emails in it. If you can do five or ten minutes a day JUST GETTING RID OF NOISE and nothing else, you're going to have less email paralysis.

Tip Four: Use a heavy hand setting up filtering rules. You know what I never, ever see in my inbox anymore? MFA codes from our office google phone. Everyone is on the mailing list for those codes, the phone number gets used twenty times a day, and the person using the number is almost never me. So they all go into a big folder called "filtered" that I check for important stuff once a week and then empty. Other things that don't bother me because they go into "filtered" right away: notifications that a particular user's switch was disconnected, outage reports for client servers, and about half of the vendor emails that go out to the team. Those come to my inbox because it's good to have me on those mailing lists, but if I don't filter them I won't see the stuff that I should be seeing so I filter filter filter.

I also filter stuff that's important. Emails from the CEO go directly into a folder with the CEO's name so that I don't have to dig for them in my inbox and I can immediately see if a new email was from my grandboss instead of being some tracking information or something like that. Order confirmations from specific vendors get filtered into specific folders. Copies of quotes that I send to clients get filtered into a specific folder. Warranty registration information gets filtered into the warranty registration folder.

Tip Five: Figure out your "I have to do something with this but I'm not sure what and I don't want to lose it" actions. I've got two subfolders and a flag for this - one folder is for things that need to be addressed and are time sensitive, one folder for things that need to be addressed but are NOT time sensitive, and the flag is for things that I need to address but are not ready to leave the inbox (which usually means I need to check with someone to see if it's time sensitive or I need to take an action but it will keep until I've got five or six things to do in that category so I can knock them out at one time). These folders and flags act like a to-do list if your inbox is too full to be a to-do list on its own.

Tip Six: The email inbox teaches the attitude of the knife - chopping off what's incomplete and saying: "Now, it's complete because it's ended here." Set a tolerable upper age limit for your emails. If it has been languishing past that age, you need to delete it or sort it somewhere but it can't keep living in your inbox and making you guilt spiral. Put it in a folder with a non-serious label (mine is called 'Shame Pit') and move on. If it's serious, someone will send you a new email.

"Every day I get emails" but not in the funny ha ha work sucks I know way more in the ADHD horror story this is legitimately causing problems for me at work way.

[livvyandcaycaytakenselfies]

Rapunzel Riddle story trailer~

-ˋˏ ༻𖤓༺ ˎˊ-

This is the story how I died. But don't worry! This is actually a fun story!

And the truth is it- isn't even mine. This is the story of a boy, named Riddle.

And it starts? With the sun. Now, once upon a time, a single drop of sunlight and moon light fell from the heavens. And from these single drops of sun and moon grew two thing, one of which I will tell you later.

From this single drop of sun grew a magic golden flower. It had the ability to heal the sick and injured.

Oh-! You see that calculating looking man over there? You might want to remember him- he's kind of important.

Well! Centuries passed, and a hop, skip, and a boat ride away there grew a kingdom! The kingdom was ruled by a beloved set of kings. And one of the kings, he was about to be blessed with a child by the fates. But he got sick.

Really sick...

He was running out of time, And that's when people usually start to look for a miracle. Or in this case, a magic golden flower.

Ah! I told you he'd be important. You see, instead of sharing the sun's gift, this young man, Azul, hoarded it's healing power and used it to keep himself and his two friends young for hundreds of years! And all he had to do, was sing a special song.

Azul sighed and crouched down in front of the magic flower he so despratly kept hidden. It reminded him so much of her... Stop it, he told himself. He took his hood off and smiled at the flower, feeling him and his friends starting to feel drained once again.

"Flower, gleam and glow, let your power shine. Make the clock reverse, bring back what once was mine, what once, was mine." Azul felt the magic jolt through him, like a shiver and he was sure the twins felt it to, wherever they were.

Alright you get the gist- He sings to it,he remains young, creepy, right?

Azul heard shouting of people coming, so he pulled the bush he placed over the flower to hide it so many times before and ran to hide behind a bush, his lantern knocking the bush cover of in the process leaving the flower in the open. Azul cursed.

A few moments later, guards came into view. His eyes lit up at the sight of the flower, ignoring the knocked over bush. "We found it!" He shouted before running down, a few guards in toll.

Azul watched with narrow eyes a bitterness from his hiding spot in the bush as the guards dug up his flower. His last reminder of her- well maybe not last, but that's not important.

He knew what had to be done... even if that meant abandoning (—)..

-ˋˏ ༻𖤓༺ ˎˊ-

Trey let out a scared breath, hoping this would work. He dropped the flower into a bowl of water and watched it glow, the flower disappearing into the water, turning it a glowing gold color.

He let out a sigh of relief and walked over to Cater. He sat down beside him and tilted the bowl up for him to drink. Cater drank all of it and let out an exhausted sigh. But he already felt so much better. The magic was working.

The magic golden flower healed the king. And so, with the smile of the three fates, Cater and Trey were gifted with a healthy baby boy with beautiful rose red hair.

Cater and Trey smiled down at Riddle with pure happiness. Cater leaned down and took the baby into his arms, rubbing their noses together. Riddle giggled happily. Trey smiled and brought something up and placed it on Riddle's head- A beautiful crown made especially for him. The baby cooed once again.

To celebrate his birth, the kings released a floating lantern into the sky. And for that one moment, everything was perfect.

And then that moment ended...

The moons light rained over the kingdom, the balcony door coming unlocked and coming

open ever so slightly. Azul snuck inside, walking over the cradle of a sleeping baby Riddle.

Azul scowled and clenched his fists at his side.

He took in a deep breath to calm himself and started to sing. "Flower, gleam and glow," He started, watching the baby carefully. "Let your power shine," He smiled sharply as he watched the baby's hair turn a lighter shade of glowing pink. Bring a strand of his hair up and place scissor blades under it. "Make the clock reverse-" He snapped the scissor blades down and cut the glowing strand of hair. He gasped and recoiled his hand, watching the magic stop and the hair strand grow black, the roots of the baby's strand growing black as well.

He scoffed and scowled, picking up the baby and runing to the balcony, just in time for Trey and Cater to wake up. Azul saw and jumped.

The kingdom searched and searched but they could not find the baby prince. For deep within a tower in the forest, Azul raised the child himself.

Azul sat in a chair with a now seven-year-old riddle on the floor in front of him, brushing his hair as Riddle sang. "Make the clock reverse, bring back what once was mine, what once was mine." Azul sighed and smiled, continuing his brushing.

Azul had found his new magic flower, and this time he was determined to keep it hidden.

"Why can't I go outside?" Riddel questioned his 'older brother'. Azul sighed and continued brushing, his hardened face hidden from Riddel's view. "The outside world is a dangerous place, filled with horrible, selfish people. You must stay here where your safe, do you understand flower?" Riddle nodded and smiled. "Yes brother."

-ˋˏ ༻𖤓༺ ˎˊ-

But the walls of that tower could not hide everything.

Riddle crept carefully down the steps, walking even quieter past Azul's room. He went to the doors of the tower, opening them and gasping at the sight.

For each year on his birthday, the kings released thousands of lanterns in the sky. In hopes that one day, their lost prince would return.

Riddle leaned on his arms on the door seal, smiling and watching the 'floating lights' in the sky. He smiled softly staring at them, as if the stars themselves had fallen into his big, grey eyes.

Will be posting on my wattpad!!

Love you all! Bye!!

Can you guess who’s speaking??🥰

[moonyasnow]

TWST OC Showcase: Libitina Vargas

Voice claim: JUNNA

Human Shaftlands 169cm / 5'6 - #b4b4b4 / 180, 180, 180 29 y.o. Curriculum: Defensive Magic Hobbies: People-watching Favorite food: Marshmallows Floyd-given name: Professor Stonefish Rook-given name: Madame Froideur

Link to all my OC Showcases here!

A professor at Night Raven College who teaches the school's safety curriculum, including Defensive Magic. Though seeming cold she cares greatly for the safety of her students and teaching them to fend for themselves. She is never seen without her scythe.

Some quotes:

Someone remarks about a bad cut on her arm she hadn't even noticed. She stares at it with surprise for a second, then shakes her head... "This is nothing."

"Do you think you'll be rewarded for your efforts in the end of you keep this up? Karma is just a myth people invented to give themselves peace of mind. There is no deity or cosmic force that will smile upon you. If you keep always giving and refusing to take anything in return, not only will you go broke, you're going to attract people who will take advantage of your kindness."

She's almost smiling a little. "I respect recycling and pragmatism a lot. Seeing you doing so regularly has made me realize I've started to become wasteful in my current, cushy lifestyle. I need to start changing that as soon as possible."

Eight years before the main story begins, her first memory was of waking up on a boat that'd just docked at Sage Island. She'd been leaning against a large scythe held in her arms, the names 'Libitina' and 'Kolyuchka' carved into the hilt. The only other thing she had on her person was a letter found in her pocket— an official letter of employment as Defensive Magic teacher at 'Night Raven College', for one 'Libitina Morozov'. Seeing that the name 'Libitina' was also eteched into the handle of the scythe she'd woken up holding, she figured that must be her. So she asked where NRC was, and after being told about the route, but having no money to pay a bus driver, she simply walked up the slope to the school. When she arrived up the seemingly deserted campus and knocked on the front door, she was met with a ghost. The first thing this ghost did was gasp in horror, asking if she was alright, and pointing to a large gash on her leg. One she hadn't even noticed. When she met with her new boss, one 'Dire Crowley' all she was told was what her new job would entail, where her assigned room was, and that she was sent to the school by courtesy of someone high up in government. All Crowley had been told was that they'd be getting a new employee, decreed by the King and Queen of the Land of Dawning themselves, and that said employee would arrive sometime within the next few days.But as they'd been told nothing else, he just asked who she was: her name, and her birthday. "…Libitina…December 22nd." When asked about any prior experience she had teaching, or where she came from, just general stuff about her, she looked to the side in thought for a second. She attempted to search through her mind…but found nothing. "…" She just stood in silence for a while. "I can't remember." She got a visibly somewhat frustrated look on her face. Though, it was only the tiniest furrow of her brow and her mouth subtly settling into a grim line. Seeing the nurse worrying about her and her seeming amnesia, she tried to…reassure them? In her own way, at least. "I'm fine. Don't waste your energy worrying about me." As there were two weeks left before the school was to start up operations again, she was given time to learn about what would be expected of her as a teacher, as well as becoming acquainted with some of the other staff before the chaos of several hundred students would flood in. The other teachers weren't very happy about her being hired, what with her having no evidence of any prior education in teaching, but Crowley just said she could 'shadow' the current Defensive Magic teacher! Libitina was only gonna teach the first years for the first while anyway.

At NRC:

When she first got to NRC, she felt almost numb.

It was as though there was a deep, indescribable pain deep inside her, lapping against the glass surface of her skin, just held back by lack of context. She didn't know why, or where it came from. Had she always felt like this? She didn't know.

To her it felt like...like her mind had corroded somehow. Like her brains were just melting off the sides. Like everything from before she woke up was just a liquefied goop. Though her memories were gone, some emotions that might've been associated with them remained.

When she thought about 'before', it just...hurt. She felt sadness, anger, grief, numbness, disgust...and so much regret.

She kept mostly to herself, doing her work, and then spending her time alone, either training, keeping up the maintenance of Kolyuchka, or people-watching from the window of some isolated corridor. She was thankful that the first few months was just going to be her shadowing the at-the-time Defensive Magic teacher and learning the ropes from them, as it gave her a lot more time to spend doing mostly simple, monotonous tasks while observing what she would be doing in the future.

She couldn't remember any prior hobbies. Felt no strong pull to anything in particular, so people-watching was something easy she settled for. She figured watching the day-to-day running of things was a good a way as any to learn and acclimate herself to her new environment.

And the more time she spent both watching others, as well as interacting with them, she realized she was different from other people.

There was some sort of...disconnect, in her, that wasn't present in others she observed. As though some crucial part of what made someone, for lack of a better term 'human'; a conscious, present person— was just not there for her. It just wasn't something she could access as easily as others.

Her emotion, mostly.

It wasn't that she was trying to hide her emotion, nor like she was just bad at conveying them. It was more like...they were frozen. A block of solid ice around her heart, making them feel distant. Like someome else's emotions. Maybe they were.

She kept to herself. She thought it was best that way. She didn't know why...just felt convinced this was how it was supposed to be. Or maybe how it had been before? She didn't feel very strongly about it one way or the other. Didn't let herself.

So she didn't understand why one of her colleagues, the teacher in charge of P.E., Ashton, around her age and hired not too long before her, just would not seem to leave her alone.

He kept popping up to ask her to train with him.

She's not used to compliments. Not at all.

And then he just starts bombarding her with them. And all of them were so sincere she just had no comeback! Nor could she just brush it off or ignore it. It was like he'd caught a lasso around her and pulled her in, forcing all her attention to him.

He kept on saying he wanted to know her secrets— as in, training secrets. What kinda workouts has she been doing and how long to get those kinds of gains.

Even after revealing her whole training routine, which felt so natural to her she was sure she must've been following it for a large portion of her life, probably starting from childhood, he still wouldn't leave.

Her initial reaction was to treat it as survival; the beast must keep her guard up, lest she risk falling into the hunter's trap. Him always finding her to ask to hang out was like said hunter walking right up to the beast.

But when the hunter did come up to her...he just called her fur shiny and kept chatting at her, asking about her workout routine and if she'd seen so-and-so part of the island.

That left her way more shocked than anything else. She couldn't read him; everything she expected, he did the opposite of. And that scared her.

It was terrifying to her, realizing that she was starting to act vulnerable around him without noticing; that she WANTED to be vulnerable with him. Something inside her told her that doing so was dangerous, filling her with fear so intense it bordered on terror. Her chest felt jittery around him. But it didn't feel nice.

It felt like sharp iron claws digging their tips into the soft, bloody, beating flesh of her heart with a sickening *POP* and *squelch*. Her heart that had been covered in impenetrable ice for so long felt so, so frail, not used to anyone holding dominion over it. Or at least, knowing it had never brought her any happiness.

It made her feel absolutely helpless. And that to her felt like life-threatening danger. Letting him as close as she had felt like a beast inviting a hunter into her den. A beast trusting a hunter with that kind of information was tantamount to suicide. But she wanted to. And that desire conflicted with what she was convinced she NEEDED to do, which was protect herself at all costs. If she did, he'd know where she was most vulnerable, where it would be easiest for him to strike.

The hunter had caught her. And she could only free herself if she kept pretending he hadn't.

She ended up taking really well to her new job.

But when during one parent-teacher conference, one of the parents accused Libitina of stealing something from them, Ashton stepped in to her defense, saying he'd vouch for her, not only as a fellow NRC teacher, but as a friend, and that he didn't think she'd do something like that.

The word 'friend' in that sentence felt like a bullet shot through her heart. But...in a weirdly good way.

But...when she did realize that his simple-mindedness wasn't a trick, and he really was that honest, straight forward and enthusiastic...the moment it really sunk in for her, she smiled for the first time since coming to NRC. Something she at the start of them knowing each other would've been suspicious of she now saw for what it was: just his way of being. And she thanked him.

The beast no longer bristled at the hunter's approach. Her ears flopped down and she looked at him with big, curious eyes.

He was the first person in her new life to ever make her smile, as well as the first to make her laugh. Even with her limited memories, something deep inside her told her she'd barely— if ever— laughed before.

But the sheer ridiculousness of seeing him flip his hair over his shoulder and flex his muscles and smile in a way that purposefully showed off his perfect teeth never failed to bring a smile on her face, no matter how bad her mood had been that day.

She'd laugh at how almost incomprehensible simplistic his logic was— it was so him, and so endearing in that stubborn, overconfident way of his.

But there was something else he made her feel that she still wouldn't admit to herself.

And all the while the two of them were engaged in their strange dance, she'd started slowly opening up to talking to her other coworkers more. More like, them so often saying hi to and making smalltalk with her had finally started wearing down her defenses. Slowly, she was becoming more relaxed

He'd charmed his way into her heart.

After denying it to herself for three entire seasons, she finally admitted that she had fallen in love with Ashton.

And after a long time of trying to wait for the perfect moment but also being too afraid to say anything, she finally just told him. When she found out that he loved her, too, she thought her heart might burst with happiness.

And after she finally did, Libitina found out that he'd been aggressively flirting with her for basically an entire year.

He thought them getting together was her finally reciprocating. She thought she was taking a huge gamble on their friendship by telling him how she felt. She'd really had no idea that he was interested.

But eh, that didn't matter. Everything ended well in the end.

Ashton's parents even showed up for the wedding, and though Libitina was a little bit nervous to meet them for the first time, it seems like they fell in love with her instantly, and warmly welcomed her into the family. Since Libitina didn't have any blood family of her own, her new father-in-law even ended up walking her down the aisle.

Ashton wore a completely white suit, and Libitina a tight-fitting fishtail-style white dress with lace, off the shoulder sleeves, and held a bouquet of white spider lilies.

And just a few years into their marriage they ended up having a son, whom they named Yuri.

He goes to a preschool on Sage island, and one of his parents goes on the bus with him to drop him off. Though since his days at preschool are pretty short, when one of his parents comes to pick him up again, they drop him off at Sam's shop until their own work days are over. Or sometimes they also leave him with the NRC gardener, since Yuri really likes plants.

But most often Sam, since he's kind of a family friend.

At this point, eight years after she first started working at NRC, she has remembered a few things. But no actual memories. Only that she recognizes certain things.

Such as that she grew up in some of the seedier parts of one of the biggest cities in the Shaftlands, due to recognizing place names and images of the city.

And through finding some old government documentation about herself, she knows her mother's name, and that her mother was an immigrant to the Shaftlands, alongside a tiny baby Libitina. But all documentation about her stops at age 6, and doesn't pick back up again until her being officially hired at Night Raven.

Over time, she accepted that her lost memories would never return to her. And in a way, when she did, it was like she made her peace with it, and it no longer tormented her.

And some thorough medical examinations came up showing that in addition to all the scars covering her body, almost every bone in her body has been broken once or twice, and her blood contains a small amount of a concoction of different poisons. And almost every single pain receptor in her body has endured enough damage that they barely work anymore, if at all.

A bunch of miscellaneous facts:

She has a habit of buying herself one singular marshmallow every Saturday; the one luxury she allows herself.

This habit lead her to becoming friends with Sam, the two of them often on the sidelines observing things, and sharing their observations with each other. It felt easy for the two to interact when the two were in the same area, with them both being people who value secrecy to a degree, so they always got along well.

She is incredibly strong, and definitely has quite a bit of muscle definition.

And her reflexes and reaction-time are practically unmatched, being able to catch anything flying toward her, or side-step anyone about to bump into her with minimal effort. It's such a baked-in instinct in her that she sometimes even finds herself dodging even hugs from her family out of pure habit, if they come at her too quickly.

She's also one of the few humans who can immediately sense Rook being nearby.

But she is somehow incapable of feeling physical pain, which is something that worries her husband often.

She's a real 'sink or swim' kinda teacher. Not THAT extreme, but the principle is the same. For example I can see her, as soon as she's taught them a few defensive spells, going full bullet hell on her students and telling them to figure it out. She's a much more practical kinda teacher as opposed to being classroom-learning focused.

If one of them thinks outside the box and finds some other way of evading her spells— like just being really really good at dodging, she will smile and praise them. Buuuut she'll also have to say that to pass her class they need to actually use defensive spells, so while she's personally proud of them, it's not gonna get them a grade.

She believes learning to figure things out for yourself and not always need someone's help deciding what to do is essential to becoming independent, and she wants to give her students the tools to care for themselves.

That said, she pays close attention to her students, and gives advice based on each of their personal capabilities, strengths and weaknesses. If a student is the kind to panic when a plan falls apart, she tells them to focus on memorizing spells for easy use, then run for cover to give them more time to think out a new strategy.

Though she can sometimes end up going into advice that seems like she's prepping them for battle, or life-or-death scenarios...

And as for the magicless students… All the teachers are left to come up with their own solutions. So long as Grim can cast spells, and the humans can dodge, she considers that good enough.

She has a habit of washing her hands almost to an excessive degree, as well as doing laundry more often than most people. But she never gives a response when asked why.

She feels uneasy around Crowley— as well as anyone else who wears a mask that covers their eyes.

She really hates the cold, which is ironic considering she was born smack dab in the middle of winter, in a country known for having the worst winters in the world. She's naturally a pretty cold person body-heat-wise, so in winter she needs to wear the thickest coats, gloves and scarves you could possibly imagine. Just picture her wearing a very thick turtleneck sweater, two pairs of pants, one wool leggings and the other pair of a really thick fabric, two or three pairs of socks, very thick boots, three layers of coats, a giant scarf that swallows up the entire lower half of her face unless she chooses to pull it down, ear muffs, and very thick three-fingered gloves, but still shivering.

She feels strangely about the part-time janitor who was hired after the Ramshackle members became students— Flécher. She feels protective towards him for some reason she can't explain. He reminds her of someone…but she has no idea who. When she looks at him she floods with feelings of both a bittersweet fondness and intense guilt and sadness.

Due to him spending his breaks at the Mystery Shop, Flécher sometimes ends up helping babysit Yuri.

She doesn't know how to describe what she feels when she sees him playing with her son.

(the template was made by @/ai-kan1 , but I edited it a bit since I didn't feel the original color options were descriptive enough)

Extra chibi sprites!

(the coffin icon here belongs to Yuri)

I feel a liiiiittle self-conscious with how much of her post was just detailing how she and Ashton got together ; ;

But he was also legitimately a very important part in her becoming less distant and learning to connect better with people in general, so it was really important I think.

The details of what her wedding dress looked like, maybe not AS much…👉👈

But fashion 🥺

Tag list: @another-random-paradise @thehollowwriter @faefum @cactus13-rolloflammesimp @beneathsakurashade

@nyx-of-night @theolivetree123 @babyghoul138 @skibidibabygirl @screamintoad

@gingacat @buttholesparkles @scint1llat3 @jadelover69 @angelwishess

@crimsonrose34 @nerenda @chillygourami @kirans-wonderland

Please let me know if you ever wanna be added or removed! ^^

[abiiors]

𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚠𝚘 — 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚒

✧ — 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

✮ a/n: matty in his hashtag feminist era for this one as you'll see. following the footsteps of the 75blr greats and furthering the munch matty agenda here <33

✮ cw: smut, oral sex (f receiving), matty yaps. SO. MUCH.

✮ wc: 2.8k

matty’s hand slams over the front door, half covering the 102 painted on it—her flat number. jules doesn’t bother caring. for one, his hand is holding onto her waist, his mouth hot on hers, kissing her with such hunger that her head spins. and she knows there’s a near zero chance carly would be home on a friday night and not out somewhere with adam. 

“wait, keys,” jules pants, trying to rummage through her purse without breaking the kiss. it’s damn near impossible though, but she doesn’t want to let go. not when his mouth feels so fucking good on hers. 

matty mumbles something and moves on to kissing her neck, grinding his hips into hers where she can feel just how turned on he is. 

with one hand inside his t-shirt, she somehow manages to open the door. matty holds onto her jaw, kissing her all over again. his teeth tug at her bottom lip, and jules drops her purse somewhere on the floor, kicks her heels off too. 

“fuck,” he groans, crushing their bodies together. 

this…she’s rarely felt this… 

the only time jules ever remembers feeling any real fire and lust in her body, a feeling of electricity coursing through her veins, was the early days. days where she would dream about max and giggle like a school girl every time he touched her. 

but that was different. there were feelings involved. 

the only thing jules feels for matty in unbridled lust. she’s sure he feels the same. 

“to your bedroom,” he pants, briefly breaking away from her. she takes him by the hand, pulling her down the corridor towards her room. halfway through, he tugs on her elbow, pushing her against the wall and placing his hand behind her head at the last minute. and then his mouth is back on hers, his hand inching under her dress. 

jules laughs into the kiss. “my room is two feet away.”

“too far,” he groans and hitches her leg around his waist. 

his hands move up her leg, from the back of her knee to up her thigh and then to her ass again, thoroughly feeling every inch of skin. his touch is so hungry, and she can’t help but feel wanted, desired. 

“t-touch me,” she breathes, expecting him to take charge completely, to unzip her dress and touch her tits like max would… she really needs to fucking stop thinking about max. 

“tell me what you like,” his voice comes out low and deep. 

“i—” jules chokes, unable to think of a single thing. 

a different kind of heat creeps over her cheeks then, one that has nothing to do with desire and everything to do with embarrassment. it’s a simple question really, a logical question considering they don’t know each other. 

and yet…jules can’t come up with an answer. 

“the—” she has to clear her throat “—usual stuff. y’know?”

matty stops. his hold on her her ass loosens and his lips stop moving on her jaw. a second later, he puts a smidge of distance between them. 

“i don’t know…”

“i, um,” she just stares at him like a fucking idiot. 

the house is dark, quiet, none of them had bothered to stop and turn on the lights of course. but she can see a clear outline of his face in the moonlight, can see the slight confusion in his eyes. 

“you know, stuff guys usually do…” she finishes weakly, hoping he’d just carry on. she just wants a good shag, not to play twenty-one questions. turns out whatever she says is the wrong answer. 

“no, jules. i didn’t ask what guys usually do, i asked what do you like.”

“i like…” she bites her lip and stares at him, at his now messed up curls and dark eyes. “i like whatever you like.”

another moment passes and matty steps back a bit more. her stomach flips. how is she fucking this up so badly and they haven’t even started yet? is she not supposed to let him do whatever he wants? she’d done all the things right, too! given him verbal consent, quite the enthusiastic consent if she thinks about the cab ride back home…

“jules,” he blinks, “are you…are you a virgin?”

“what? no!” she’s so taken aback that she lets go of his t-shirt, crossing her arms in front of his chest. “i was in a three year long relationship, matty, why would you think i was a virgin?!”

he holds his hands up, trying to placate her. “then how the fuck do you not know what you like?”

“i don’t know!” she runs a hand through her hair. she can already feel the tangles that matty’s caused. “ma—my ex and i usually just did things his way. he was, uh, more experienced than me anyway.”

“uh-huh,” matty blinks, “and can you tell me what you did?”

“now?!” her voice rises another octave.

“yes, jules.”

the more she stares at him, the more she realises just how serious he is. they’re still touching each other, she can still feel his hardness pressing into her thigh and can still feel wetness pooling between her legs. but there’s also the mortification of the situation. 

“ugh, fine,” she croaks. “we did…well, the usual—”

“specifics, please.”

she glares at matty when he interrupts her, but he’s right. she needs to be more specific. “we did missionary, sometimes i went down on him.” her words have a slight bite to them. 

“and any other partners?” his voice is still eerily calm, like he’s trying not to start an argument with her. it has the exact opposite effect though. 

“are we taking each other’s sexual history here, what—”

“jules,” he almost pleads, “i promise you, i’m not trying to be daft. i do really want to know.”

so fine, he seems earnest enough. he doesn’t look like he’s trying to make fun of her, or is one of those guys who’ll judge her based on the amount of people she’s been with and would call her a ‘loose woman’ if it exceeds some made-up number. 

not that it even counts in her case. 

“well,” she looks to her feet, flushing a little, “my ex was my first. and only.”

“and that’s all you did…” matty clears his throat but jules isn’t stupid. she knows what a forced normal tone sounds like. “missionary and blow jobs?”

a lump forms in her throat. matty is the last person she needs stupid judgement from. she turns her face to one side, lightly pushing him away. 

“maybe this was a bad idea—”

“jules, jules, listen to me,” she’s surprised when he holds her face between his hands, cradles it almost, “we can figure out what you like, okay? if you still want that.”

a small part of her knows that she’s got this all wrong. that he’s not trying to be judgemental and an asshole. maybe he really is trying to help, and he’s just shit at communicating it. 

“we can just focus on you today. i can go down on you and we’ll stop there…”

“oh.” she blinks a little, trying to get rid of the stinging in her eyes. “uh, i don’t know, my ex said… he said it’s not really a great experience for girls?”

the way his jaw drops is enough to clue her in. jules waits for the ridicule, waits for him to laugh at her inexperience or just nod and continue kissing her. instead he shakes his head and stands up a little straighter. 

“do you trust me?”

does she? she doesn’t even fully know him. matty seems to read her face like she’s an open book. 

“look, i know we don’t really know each other. but as far as this is concerned, just sex, do you trust me?”

something in her gut tells her to say yes and so she nods, softening a little. 

“and do you still want to have sex with me?”

“yes,” she admits, “i do.”

she waits for more questions, waits for some other remarks he might have. instead matty leans in and kisses her. it’s not as rough as the last time, but she won’t exactly call it a tender kiss either. it’s somewhere in between, like he simply wants her to forget the world and focus on him. and so that’s what she does. 

moments later, jules is back to touching him, his skin and his hair and the buckle of his jeans. matty moves her hands away gently. 

“let’s focus on you today,” he says. “jump.”

she wants to object. sex is a two-way street, she wants him to have fun too. but something in her tells her not to argue. and so she does as she’s told and wraps his legs around his waist, feeling his solid body against hers and his hands under her ass. 

matty starts moving, walking them towards the bedroom. and jules just kisses him harder.

“lie down for me.” matty’s voice is a soft sound that dances over her skin, leaves goosebumps in its wake too. or it could be the fact that, she’s lying down entirely naked (save her underwear) on this bed, while he’s still wearing his jeans. 

their clothes are in a pile in a corner—her dress and his t-shirt—discarded after precisely three seconds of getting to her bedroom. she was excited then, gasping for breath and the touch of his fingers. but now as she lays down on the bed—her nipples peaked and her body bare—jules feels the first flutters of nervousness. 

“i’m going to make you feel good, okay?” he moves, slots himself between her legs until they’re kissing again and their chests brush together. the buckle of his belt brushes against her clit and jules gasps. 

matty smirks. “it’s going to be… so much better than that.”

“i just want to feel good…” jules sighs, feeling the brush of his fingers against her thigh, against the sweet spot just under her hipbone. it tickles a little, but more than that it makes her entire body tingle. 

“can i?” matty hooks a finger in her underwear, looking at her for permission. she nods, almost absently, distracted by the way he looks in the moonlight. 

the grown out parts of his mohawk are still quite short but some of the strands are already starting to curl, fighting to get back to their previous shape. his sharp cheekbones, and his even sharper jaw have a five o’clock shadow on them. jules wonders how it would feel between her legs.

would it burn? would it be a good burn?

at some point, she has to get rid of max’s voice at the back of her head telling her how to feel in her own body, telling her what she would enjoy and what she won’t rather than her finding out. and maybe this feels like the first step—to do something he’d always discouraged in their relationship. besides, the thoughts of matty’s tongue are making her rather eager now. 

jules lifts her hips when he pulls her underwear down and then there she is—completely naked, hoping he likes what he sees. 

matty sucks in a breath, shamelessly checking her out. his eyes roam over her tits and the dainty little pendant that rests between them, an antique opal that she’d saved months for. he reaches out and touches her, the pendant and then one of her nipples.

his thumb rolls over it, pinching it next when she hisses. she feels a current run through her body—from his fingers straight down between her legs. 

“more,” she gasps. matty obliges, tugging at it a little harsher than last time, and her back almost arches off the bed. 

she could cum from this alone, she’s sure of it. 

matty lowers himself between her legs, mouth over her stomach now and eyes still firmly on her. whenever she can manage to keep her eyes open she stares at him. she stares at his hair falling into his eyes, tickling her too, stares at his gorgeous lips pressing against her skin, moving lower and lower and lower until he’s right below her belly button. 

“need you to spread your legs a little more okay?” his tone is gentle, sure, but there is nothing gentle about his voice. it sounds barely like him, turned almost gravelly with lust. jules does as she’s told, trying not to shy away when he looks between her legs and looks back up at her. 

“i’m ready,” she says, more for her benefit than his, but he nods regardless. 

the first kiss on the inside of her thigh sets her skin on fire. this isn’t one of the soft kisses he’d placed on her stomach, this one is a little rougher. she feels his stubble, the roughness of each hair rubbing against her thigh. a slight graze, and still it’s enough for her to moan. 

he hasn’t even done anything yet and she’s already quivering. 

“god, you’re gorgeous,” matty whispers, sounding like he’s talking to himself than to her but jules still feels a flush grow over her cheeks.

the next touch she feels is the flick of his tongue right over her clit, sending the billions of neurons in her body into a frenzy. it’s one small touch and yet jules sees fireworks behind her eyelids already, feels even more turned on than she is. 

her reaction makes him bolder. matty holds onto her thighs with both hands, pulling her down in one fluid motion until his mouth his fully latched onto her clit. and then he sucks, tongue and teeth and lips working in tandem. the bedroom falls away from her as she squeezes her legs around his head and holds him in place. 

“ohmygod,” she pants, trying to keep up with the intensity of everything happening in her body, the way his tongue feels and the way his fingers dig into her body. it’s like sex but ten times better. 

jules clenches around nothing, wishing she could feel him, or his fingers at least. but then his tongue slides into her, nose pushing into her clit, and all the what ifs die on her tongue. 

“doing so good…” matty whispers, and the vibrations of his words travel straight through her, making her head spin. 

how had someone ever convinced her that this won’t make her feel good, how had she ever believed that?! jules screams out his name when he flicks his tongue inside her, big licks and tiny one, creating a rhythm, making her go insane. 

once or twice he even nips at her thighs softly, laughing at her hisses and whimpers. and she feels everything, feels all his touches in detail until her head is spinning, and she can only focus on the feeling building near the base of her spine—a knot tightening and tightening, making her thrust her hips and clench around air, making her tug onto his hair and squeeze his head. 

her thighs feel the burn—she doesn’t know if it’s from his stubble or from all the flexing, not like she cares at the moment. all she wants to do is blindly chase that feeling. 

it’s so close she can feel taste it in the air. 

“i—” she chokes, “i want—”

“what do you want?” matty looks up at her, mouth sinfully wet, presses a kiss right above her cunt, “tell me what you want.”

“i want to cum, i—” she gasps, feeling his lips around her clit, “i want to feel good…”

although she’s so close it won’t take him another second. all it takes is another flick of his tongue, right over her clit, and jules feels the knot snap. her mind goes blank, stars wink at the back of her eyelids, and she feels herself let go, feels wetness pool between her legs again, feels matty’s tongue still, lapping at it. letting her ride her orgasm. 

and she does, she grinds against his face shamelessly, getting as much of him as it takes, holds onto his hair until she can feel herself returning to her body. 

matty keeps up with everything she puts him through. still between her legs, kissing and teasing her as she’s trying to open her eyes, enjoying the way her head spins. 

la petite mort, the small death… jules finally realises why it’s called that. she really does feel like a new woman. matty, between her legs, looks as beautiful as an angel—her own angel of small death, she thinks. 

“was that bad then?” he smirks, mouth sinful, filthy, wet with her release. 

“can we go again?” she asks instead of answering. 

matty laughs, he truly laughs. jules wonders if she’s asked for too much, if he’s going to tell her that it’s a give and take, that he wants something in return if she wants him to go again. 

matty places a tiny kiss on her hip. “oh darling, we can go as many times as you want.”

one sentence and she feels it again, the familiar heat in her stomach. she realises he’s already broken a rule—no pet names—and it’s only their first time too.

but then matty dips his face back between her legs. and jules doesn’t even bother caring about that at all.

[speedlimit15]

when i was younger and fully unhinged i would drive so fast on the highway at night to the mad max fury road soundtrack and feel every emotion simultaneously

[fxckinemo]

i think i just met an angel????

[devil-in-hiding]

Okay but Virgin!Reader who is absolutely terrified of intimacy. It’s not a lack of knowledge on the subject; she’s knows more about it than a retired pornstar. But she just can’t handle the thought of giving herself away, especially to someone she doesn’t know or feels like she can’t trust! Back where she comes from, trust is a privilege and respect is a must. But what happens when she meets brutal, gruff, and one hundred and ten percent dangerous Simon Riley, who’s way more experienced and has a history of fucking just to let off some steam.

Ughhhhh 😵‍💫

Simon is your neighbor. Your first interaction is when he almost knocks you over in the hall, only offering a grunt and cold glare before slamming his apartment door shut.

It remains that way for a year or so, the rare times you do see him home. Nothing is ever said, but he acknowledges you with a grunt, and you always return a small nod of greeting. He’s cold and gruff, but every time he gets home from wherever he goes, you have to hole up in the living room to escape the moans and his headboard banging into your wall. the following mornings you can hardly look him in the eye as he stares at you rushing towards the stairs.

It’s not until after a particularly bad date, who is stubbornly trying to invite himself into your apartment, that Simon actually speaks.

“Jake please, I had a nice time but I have to get up early for work.” You protest, trying to block your doorway and the guy scoffs. “C’mon, you gonna leave me hangin like that?” He frowns, trying to shoulder past you.

“I would like you to leave now.”

“Listen here you little bitch, I’ve had to put up with staring at that rack all night, the least you can do is-“

“Think the lady told you to get the fuck out mate.” A deep voice growls, and the two of you jump, and your eyes widen at seeing Simon there, and there’s a dark look in his eyes as he stares down your ‘date’

“Hey man, this is none of you-“

“Considering this nice woman is my neighbor, I’m making it my fucking business.” He states before quite literally lifting Jake by the scruff of his neck and throwing him out into the hallway. “I see you bothering her again and I’ll kick your sorry ass up and down this god damn complex you got that?”

Jake is gone before Simon is done talking. You hear him take a deep breath, shoulders relaxing before he turns to face you, and you’re surprised by the concern showing in his eyes.

“That fuckhead didn’t hurt you, did he?” He asks, and you’re shocked this man’s voice can be so soft. You’re frozen, just staring at him before you find your voice.

“N-no, no I’m okay, he was just trying to shoulder past me.” You stutter out, nervously playing with your fingers. Your heart stops when one of his large hands reaches up, gently brushing your hair away from your face.

“Sorry it took me so long, couldn’t tell if it was you I was hearing.” He admits, and your heart flutters. He knows your voice?

He talks to you more after that, helping you with groceries when your hands are full, stopping by to ask if you’d watch his apartment while he’s away on deployment. You start to look forward to the two knocks on your door, finding Simon waiting for you, crinkles around his eyes letting you know he’s smiling at you.

But the women still come, along with your nights camped out in the living room, you’re heart just a bit heavier every time.

(might turn this into something)

[catchastarorten]

—Pause the game.

Pairing: the salesman/recruiter x wife!fem!reader

Summary: your husband had some ‘work’ to take care of with the two people that had been trailing after him all day, but when your call came in, and when he found out that you felt sick, you became much more important than whatever he had going on.

Warnings: mainly fluff, mentions of Woo-seok and Jeong-rae following snd spying on him, some parts of the Russian roulette game, he’s soft for you, he misses you, English isn’t my first language, mistakes should be present, not proofread, sorry!

Word count: ~ 1.4k

The day had been long, even by his standards. A hundred lottery scratchers, a hundred loaves of bread, the park, the homeless. He had been up to a little ‘social experiment’. Even then, he caught onto the two men who had been trailing behind him since the subway station.

He wasn’t stupid. Someone was after him, and these two lackeys were clearly here to track him down. His best guess? Seong Gi-hun.

Woo-seok and Jeong-rae had been following him like shadows—clumsy ones, attempting to blend in with the surroundings every time he stopped, as if they expected him to turn around and strike at any moment. And eventually, he did.

He had let them tail him, then to his surprise, they made the first move down an alleyway to avoid losing him. By the time they realized they had made a mistake, it was too late. He had taken them down quickly, efficiently, the way he always handled these things. No emotions, no hesitation.

Jeong-rae had gone down first, crumpled to the ground. Woo-seok tried to fight back with the poor attempt of using a small knife, but a sharp blow of the suitcase to his head had knocked him out.

Now, they were sitting across from each other, bound to chairs, tied up with ropes, their mouths gagged, their muffled groans filling the dimly lit room. They couldn’t scream, couldn’t beg—just incoherent muffled noises as they squirmed like trapped animals.

He slowly circled the two men, then stopped to place a hand on each of their shoulders, eyes filled with amusement at their looks of terror.

“We're going to play a game now... Rock, Paper, Scissors, Minus One. I trust you know the rules.” his gaze flickered from Jeong-rae to Woo-seok, a smile forming on his lips.

“You form a shape with each hand, then take one away. The game is decided by the remaining hands. Of course, there’s a penalty for the loser.” he picked up the nearby revolver and inspected it, then pressed the barrel to his temple. “Russian Roulette.”

Their muffled protests grew louder, their bodies twisting against the ropes in a futile attempt to escape. The two men were shaking, their breaths heavy as he leaned closer, his finger on the trigger.

Click.

Empty.

His smirk widened as he backed away slowly.

“Alright. Now, let’s play. On my count.”

But then, as he was getting ready to spin the cylinder of the revolver, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

His brows furrowed, the interruption pulling him out of the carefully constructed moment. He pulled the phone out, and the sight of your name on the screen made him pause.

He froze for a moment, staring at the screen as his heart softened. It wasn’t like you to call him in the middle of the day. You knew he was busy—always busy. The ‘work’ he pretended to do required him to keep odd hours, to vanish without explanation, and you never questioned it. You trusted him. And he loved you for that trust, even if he didn’t deserve it.

His thumb hovering over the answer button before taking a deep breath and sliding his mask of indifference back into place. But when he answered, his voice betrayed him. It was warm, gentle—a tone he reserved only for you.

“Hey,” he said, his voice soft, the edge it had carried a moment ago completely gone. He shot the two men a warning look, his eyes narrowing as if daring them to make a sound.

Turning away from them, his tone dropped into something almost tender. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

Your voice came through the line, quiet and tinged with vulnerability. “I… I didn’t mean to bother you. I just… I’m not feeling well.”

He could hear the catch in your throat, the faint rasp. “Are you sick?” he asked, straightening.

There was a pause on your end, then a soft sniffle that nearly broke his heart. “Yeah. Just a cold, I think. My head hurts, and I’m all stuffed up.”

He closed his eyes, letting out a slow, steadying breath as guilt twisted in his chest. You sounded miserable, and he hated that he wasn’t there to take care of you. Hated that he was here, in this cold room, when he should’ve been home with you.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured. “I know you’re busy. I just… I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said quickly, his voice gentle but firm. “You can call me anytime, okay? I mean it. Anytime.”

There was a pause, and then he heard another sniffle on the other end. It made his chest clench. “Where are you?” you asked. “Are you coming home soon?”

He glanced down at Woo-seok and Jeong-rae, their wide, panicked eyes watching him like trapped prey. The revolver gleamed on the table beside him, a stark reminder of the life he led when he wasn’t with you.

For the first time all day, he felt a pang of guilt—not for them, but for you. For the life he kept hidden from you. You had no idea what he did, the darkness he waded through every day. And he wanted to keep it that way. You were his light, his one connection to something pure and good in a world full of shadows.

“Soon,” he promised, his voice softening even further. “I’ll be home soon."

You didn’t reply right away, but he could picture you nodding, your lips pressed into that small, tired smile you always gave him when you were sick. He could see you in his mind—wrapped in a blanket, your hair messy, your cheeks flushed from the fever.

“There’s soup in the fridge,” he added gently. “I made it this morning. Heat some up, okay? And the heating pad’s in the bottom drawer. You’ll feel better if you use it.”

“Okay,” you murmured, your voice tired.

“I love you,” he said, the word coming out more vulnerable than he intended.

“I love you too,” you replied, and he could hear the faint smile in your voice despite the cold.

His chest tightened at the sound of those words. He glanced away from the two men on the floor, his jaw clenching as he fought the sudden wave of emotion that threatened to rise. “Now go rest, my love. I’ll be home soon.” his voice was thick with sincerity.

When the call ended, the room was silent. He stared down at the phone in his hand, his mind still on you.

For a moment, he let himself imagine walking through the door of your shared apartment, dropping his keys on the counter, and finding you curled up on the couch. He’d press a kiss to your forehead, make sure you were warm, and hold you until you fell asleep. That was all he wanted.

But instead, he was stuck here.

He slipped the phone back into his pocket and turned his attention to Woo-seok and Jeong-rae. His expression hardened once more. “Well,” he said. “Where were we?”

He reached for the revolver, spinning the cylinder with a practiced flick of his wrist. The sound echoed through the room, sharp and final.

“Rock, paper, scissors,” he said, his tone almost mocking. “Loser gets to test their luck with this. Simple, right?”

He crouched down in front of them, his movements slow and deliberate, as if savoring their terror.

They shook their heads frantically, their breathing heavy, protests muffled by the gag. He sighed, standing up and running a hand through his hair. “You know,” he said, his voice almost casual. “I’d love to stay and play, but I’ve got someone waiting for me at home. So let’s not drag this out.”

Their muffled protests grew louder, but he didn’t care. This was his world. His game.

And when it was over, he’d go home to you. To the warmth of your love, the softness of your touch.

You didn’t know what he was. What he did. And he intended to keep it that way.

Because as long as you were safe, as long as you loved him, he could pretend—for just a little while—that he was someone worth loving.

[aurorawhisperz]

You’re All I Need (r.c.)

contains: swearing, angst, mentions of pregnancy, family drama.

father!rafe x mother!reader

a/n: if this goes well and finds its way into my busy schedule, i’ll turn this into a series! and guess who just hit the two-decade mark.. 🎉🎂

summary: you’re sick, exhausted, and barely holding it together while caring for your daughter, juno, alone. desperate, you call rafe, your ex and her father, for help.

who am i to want you now that you’re leaving?

•

almost a year ago, you and rafe had gotten into a big fight over the summer that left both of you saying things that couldn’t be taken back. by the time he was gone, you thought it was over for good. he stormed off and it felt like the end.

that was the same summer you found out you got knocked up.

when you finally told him about the baby, he swore he wanted to be there, for both of you. but you couldn’t do it. you didn’t his half-assed attempts at playing family. so you told him he could be in the baby’s life, but not yours.

the day your daughter was born, nothing felt real. you named her juno, inspired by a movie you’d watched a hundred times during your pregnancy. you didn’t need rafe there that day. at least, that’s what you told yourself.

and for a while, that worked. until tonight.

the fever is unbearable, heat radiating from your body as you lean against the wall to steady yourself, your legs trembling beneath you.

juno cries loudly, sharp and continuous, her small fists waving in anger from her playpen. juno was only a few months old, but the sounds she made tonight seem louder than anything, or maybe it is the throbbing in your head that is making everything clearer.

you tried to calm her down—rocking her, even her close until your arms felt like they might give out but your fever had drained every ounce of strength out of you.

rafe was in the middle of a business call when his phone rang. he saw your name on the caller ID and immediately sensed that something was off. he excuses himself from the meeting and quickly picks up.

“what’s up?" he asks, his voice filled with concern and curiosity. “do you wanna have juno tonight?”you ask, not entirely aware of what you’re doing. “i don’t don’t know..I’m just..” then you sigh. “she’s been saying ‘dada’ all day and she refuses to eat.”

rafe winced at the loud noise. juno’s cries are clearly heard from the other end. it was clear that you were having a hard time, and he felt concerned for both you and juno.

“yeah, ‘course, i’ll take her.” he replies quickly, then rafe doesn’t waste any time. telling some lame excuse to his clients, gathering his things and completely bailing on the group of people in the meeting room.

the drive to your place felt excruciatingly long, but he kept his foot on the gas, determined to get there as fast as possible. rafe offered you and juno a spot at tanneyhill but since you were too petty towards him at that time, you declined.

He rushes to his car, his mind racing with thoughts about you and Juno. The drive to your place feels excruciatingly long, but he keeps his foot on the gas, determined to get there as fast as possible.

finally, he reaches your home and practically jumps out of the car, making his way to the door and banging on it urgently.

"(name)? it’s me! open up!" he calls out, the sound of juno’s cries echoing in his ears.

when you open the door, rafe’s eyes slightly widen in worry at your appearance. he could see the paleness in your face and the exhaustion in your eyes. he quickly steps inside, his eyes scanning the room for juno.

"are you alright?" he asks, his voice filled with concern. "you look absolutely exhausted. what’s going on with you?”

“i’m fine, she’s in my room..” and rafe saw all the tell-tale signs of a fever as he watched you lay down on the couch. he knows you’re not as ‘fine’ as you claim but doesn’t push the issue for now.

a year ago, rafe cameron was chaos incarnate. consumed by his demons, or maybe he was the demon. the outer banks was his kingdom, and as much as you don’t want to admit it, the rafe walking up the stairs to go see your daughter isn’t the same man you walked away from last summer.

decades of being ward cameron’s son don’t just vanish but having a daughter changed rafe in many ways no one thought was possible. he’s more conscious, more quiet, like he’s constantly trying to prove more to himself than to everyone that he was better than the man who raised him.

you’ve seen him with juno, the way he holds her like she’s the only thing that matters in the world.

rafe watches you as you lie down on the couch, he frowns when he sees how weak you look.

he turns and heads straight to the room where juno is crying. he walks over to the crib and leans over, gently scooping up the little girl, holding her close to his chest.

"hey, little one," he coos, his voice soft and soothing. "your dad’s here." juno immediately stops crying as rafe picks her up, her small body calming at the familiarity of his touch and voice. rafe rocks her in his arms, gently shushing her and whispering words of comfort.

"there you go," he murmurs, his fingers gently stroking her soft hair. "no more cries now, i’ve got you."

he walks back to the living room, holding juno close to his chest as he approaches you on the couch.

"hey," rafe says softly, his tone showing concern. "you really don't look well." he moves closer, gently resting a hand on your forehead to feel your temperature. as he suspected, your skin was hot to the touch.

you look up to see him with juno on his hip. “just take care of her for the night.” and your eyes nearly flutter shut.

rafe saw through the way your eyes struggled to stay open. he saw how sick you truly were, but you're trying so hard to hide it.

"damn it," he mutters, his voice tight with worry and frustration. "baby, you’re in no condition to take care of juno on your own right now. you need to rest, and i can't just leave knowing you're not okay."

rafe reluctantly looks down at juno in his arms, her tiny face looking up at him with wide trusting eyes. he then glances back at you, still lying on the couch, weakness written all over your face.

"i will," he replies firmly. "but first, I'm putting you to bed. you need to rest and get better. then I'll take care of the baby."

he heads up and carefully sets juno on the crib for a moment and then walks downstairs, over to the couch, gently scooping you up in his arms.

“put me down..” you whine. "no" rafe replies firmly, his grip on you tightening slightly. "you’re burning up with a damn fever. no condition to be worrying about juno right now." he carries you towards your bedroom, his arms holding you securely against his chest. though you protest, he ignores your weak struggles.

once he reaches your bedroom, he gently lays you down on the bed, making sure you're comfortable and settled. he pulls the covers up over you, tucking you in and smoothing back your hair from your forehead.

looking down at you, he can see how exhausted you really are, the fever taking a toll on your body. but his focus quickly shifts to the crib where juno is starting to cry again, her hunger growing stronger.

rafe watches you for a moment, concerned. the feeling of your skin under his touch tells him how high your fever really is. he glances over at the crib, juno’s cries growing louder.

"stay right here," he instructs you firmly. "i’ll feed our baby, then i’m coming back to check on you."

with a sigh, rafe picks juno up from the crib and brings her to the kitchen. he goes through the motions of preparing a bottle for juno, mixing the formula with warm water and shaking it gently until it's ready. he then sits down next to your bed, leaning back against the headboard while he carefully feeds juno the bottle.

his eyes occasionally flick to you, checking on your condition. even though he's busy feeding the baby, he keeps a watchful eye on you, noticing every shiver and every sign of discomfort in your sick state.

after a few minutes, juno is satisfied, her tiny belly full and content. she starts to drift off in rafe’s arms, her small eyes growing heavy.

he carefully passes the baby back to the crib and turns his attention back to you. he returns to your bedside and sits down, his eyes studying your pale and weary face. the sight of you in this state was devouring him from the inside.

your eyes flutter open. “rafe, take her to your house..” then you turn to the side, your back facing him.

rafe looks down at you, gently taking your hand in his own, it broke his heart a little. the fact that you're asking him to take juno now.

"baby," he murmurs, his voice gentle. "you’re still burning up. i can't just leave with juno while you're like this."

it was always like this with rafe. back then, whenever you didn’t want him to care for you, when you pushed him away, built your walls high, and told him you didn’t need him, he’d force it anyway. he had this annoying way of ignoring your protests, showing up when you least expected it with that hot stubborn determination in his eyes.

if you were sick, he’d be at your door with soup, even if he didn’t know how to make it. if you were upset, he’d sit next to you in silence, waiting until you caved. it didn’t matter how hard you tried to convince him you were fine; rafe never listened. he cared in the only way he knew how to care; recklessly, even when you swore you didn’t want him to. that part of him hasn’t changed at all.

“come on, she’s your only priority at the moment.” you try sending him away. his grip on your hand tightened a little at your words. “don't be fucking ridiculous," he retorts, his voice stern. "juno will be fine with me at my house. but you're not. you’re sick and need rest and care. i’m not just gonna abandon you like this. not happening."

“you don’t have to stay anyway… you’re not my husband or boyfriend or anything. you’re just her dad.”

rafe bites down at your words. he knows he’s nothing more to you than juno’s dad, but hearing you say it so bluntly still stings.

“no, i’m not your husband or boyfriend,” he replies, his tone sharper than intended. “but damn it, i still care about you, even if you don’t want me to.”

before you can respond, a shiver racks your body, your fever making you tremble. rafe notices immediately, his frustration giving way to concern.

“jesus, you’re burning up,” he mutters, leaning closer to place the back of his hand on your forehead. “why didn’t you tell me you were this bad?” he doesn’t wait for an answer. standing up, he moves to the kitchen, returning with a cool cloth. he gently presses it against your forehead, his jaw tight with worry.

“you’re in no condition to be alone right now,” he says firmly. “especially not with a fever this high. you need someone to take care of you, whether you like it or not.”

“take her,” you whisper, your voice weak. “i can take care of myself. you don’t have to do both.”

“damn it, will you just listen to me for once?” rafe snaps, his voice low but laced with irritation. “you’re not fine. you’re barely holding it together, and you want me to just walk away? why are you so goddamn stubborn?”

“i don’t need your help,” you insist, glaring at him weakly. “just watch juno. that’s all.”

rafe exhales sharply, trying to keep his temper in check.

“what’s it gonna take for you to get it through your head that you need support too?” he demands. “i care about both you and juno, you idiot. why can’t you just let me help you when you clearly need it?”

“and why does this concern you?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. his eyes narrow at your question, frustration bubbling over again.

“why do you think it concerns me?” he bites out, his voice rough. “you really have to ask that? you think i don’t care about you? you think i only see you as juno’s mom?”

you manage a breathy smirk, too weak to move but pleased nonetheless. “i knew it… son of a bitch.”

“knew what?” he challenges, his tone sharp. “that i actually give a damn about you more than you think? if you know, then why are you still fighting me on this? why are you so damn stubborn about letting me help?”

your smirk stays on your face, though your eyelids are already drooping from exhaustion.

“yeah, i care about you,” he admits, his voice quieter now. “you drive me absolutely fucking insane with how stubborn you are, but i still care. happy now?”

when you don’t respond, too tired to argue anymore, he shakes his head and adjusts the cool cloth on your forehead.

“i’m not leaving,” he says, and there’s no point in arguing. “someone has to take care of you since you clearly can’t be trusted to do it yourself.”

the room feels smaller with him in it, like his presence is closing in on you from all sides. he settles next to you, the mattress dipping slightly, and it’s awkward, too close for comfort, too familiar for what you are now. exes. nothing more.

“you’re gonna get sick,” you mumble, your voice scratchy and weak. “you don’t have to do this.”

“don’t care,” he says, not even looking at you. his voice is calm, steady. “you’re burning up. if i get sick, so what?”

you try to sit up, even though your body feels like it’s made of lead and your head pounds with every slight movement. the fever’s still got you in its grip, but lying there next to rafe feels like too much. too intimate. too close.

but the second you push yourself up, the world tilts. your balance wavers, and before you can steady yourself, your head drops against something solid.

his shoulder.

rafe lets out an annoyed sigh as he watches you struggle to get up, knowing full well that you're too weak to stand on your own.

"damn it, woman," he mutters as you collapse back onto him. "what did I tell you? you’re supposed to be resting, not trying to get up and walk around like a lunatic."

he gently wraps his arm around you, supporting your weakened body against him.

"just stay still and don't move," he whispers. "you’re in no condition to be up and about. you need to rest and recover. you know i’ll take care of you, right? stop trying to do everything on your own."

rafe gently runs his fingers through your hair, his touch light and soothing.

your hand finds its way to rafe’s arm, fingers gripping him weakly, as if holding on to him will keep you steady. rafe freezes at the touch, his gaze dropping to where your hand rests against his skin. it’s a simple gesture, but it feels like everything all at once.

he doesn’t pull away. instead, he shifts slightly, his own hand coming up to gently squeeze yours, his grip warm and steady, like he’s anchoring you.

“you’ll get better,” he murmurs. “just give it time and let yourself rest. let me look after you for once, okay?”

you think about the way things used to be. sneaking off when you had the chance, meeting him at the beach under the cover of darkness. stolen kisses, the kind that made your heart race. rafe was always the one who pushed boundaries, the one who made you feel alive in ways you hadn’t thought possible.

“are you sleeping over?” you ask weakly, your voice barely above a whisper.

rafe looks down at you, the question pulling him out of his thoughts. he takes in your pale face, the tired lines around your eyes, and sighs. part of him wants to say no, to avoid whatever this is turning into, but he knows he can’t leave you like this.

“yeah,” he says finally, his tone gentle but firm. “yeah, i’m sleeping here. someone needs to keep an eye on your stubborn ass so you don’t try to do chores at three in the morning.”

you let out a weak laugh, but it fades quickly. “you shouldn’t be here,” you mutter, shaking your head slightly. “it’s—it’s awkward. it’ll just make things weird.”

rafe arches a brow, his lips twitching into something between a smirk and a frown. “why are you acting like something’s gonna happen between us?” he counters, his tone light but laced with something deeper. “it’s fine. stop overthinking it and just… lay down. you’re not gonna win this argument.”

before you can protest, he gently guides you back down, his hand steady at your back. the warmth of his body against yours is impossible to ignore, but you’re too drained to fight it.

then, out of nowhere, he leans down and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. the gesture is so tender it takes your breath away, but you’re too tired to react.

as your eyelids grow heavier, your mind drifts back to the first time rafe said he loved you. it wasn’t in a quiet, romantic moment, it was in the middle of an argument. his voice had been loud, angry and raw, but it was real. rafe always let things spill out when he couldn’t hold them back anymore.

now, as sleep pulls you under, you hear his voice again, quieter this time.

“i miss you,” he whispers.

you don’t respond. maybe you’re too far gone, maybe you don’t want to. but maybe you miss him too.

[morganbritton132]

A little continuation from this post I made about Eddie being an unwitting accomplice to Steve’s crimes:

Eddie is sitting in his van in the parking lot, twirling a bathroom pass around his finger as he watches Steve let the air out of Billy Hargrove’s tires.

He looks away, contemplates going back to history class, and then jumps out of his skin at his passenger door opening. Steve sits inside like, “Hey, wanna make a hundred bucks?”

There used to be a time when Eddie would kill to have King Steve Harrington talk to him… “I don’t have that much gear on me.”

“I’m not - no, I’m not looking to buy,” Steve shakes his head like it’s Eddie’s fault for not understanding what he’s asking. “Two hundred. I need a ride.”

Eddie should’ve said no. Wayne would’ve told Eddie to say no, but here he is. Pulling into the parking lot of some posh looking law office while Steve turns towards him like, “You’re good at acting, right? Good, c’mon.”

Honestly he doesn’t know if it’s curiosity or stupidity, but Eddie didn’t back out of that parking lot right there and go back to school. No, he got out and followed Steve inside.

Pass the receptionist’s desk, pass the unpaid interns, and the junior partners, to a big glass door in the back where Steve stops short and tells Eddie, “Okay, follow me and then stand out there and look angry and fed up.”

“I am fed up.”

“Good on, Munson. You’ll kill it,” He says and then heads into the office without knocking. Eddie reluctantly follows. Steve pulls a 180 and says in a voice on the verge of tears, “Dad, I really messed up.”

He launches into an Oscar worthy performance about Tommy messing with him and not paying attention, and him sideswiping Eddie’s van, “And he says he’s going to sue me. He knows a lawyer.”

Because Eddie has clearly hit his head and is now dying, that somehow works. Or at the least, Richard Harrington is too busy to deal with this because he doles out cash to fix his van. He even says, “Have the invoice from the mechanic sent to my office. We’ll cover payment as long as this wraps up cleanly.”

“Dad, he’s going to fix it himself. He’s handy.”

That sounds like an insult but he was handed another extra hundred so Eddie just mumbled something and gets the hell out of there. He’s barely got his seatbelt back on before Steve is getting back in the car looking pumped.

He grabs the cash and splits it. Three hundred evenly. He grins, “I didn’t think that was going to work.”

“What do you need three hundred dollars for?”

“Oh. I don’t.”

Eddie stares at him incredulously, “So you just lie to everybody.”

“Pretty much.”

[deadsetobsessions]

Short DPXDC prompt #2, from @stealingyourbones.

“It’ll be good for you!” Dick threw an arm around Tim’s shoulders as he beamed his way through Gotham U’s campus.

“I could have done this online. They have virtual degrees. I could have hacked my way into one.”

“Yeah, but then you wouldn’t get the authentic experience!”

The group arrived at the dorm building, one of many, and Damian gave it a dubious once over.

“If this is authentic, I refuse to be a part of the locals.” Damian quietly remarked, before peering cautiously at Dick. “I have obtained my degrees. I do not need this experience.”

“It’s really not that bad, guys.”

“How would you know? You went to Blüdhaven for college.” Tim retorted with the voice of a young man resigned to despair. “You lived off campus and your door pin was Zitka’s birthday, month first then date second.”

“… Tim, why the fuck do you know that.”

“When I knocked on your door, that was just common courtesy. I didn’t actually need you to open it. I could have opened it myself.”

Dick’s smile brightens even further, with the light of an LED bulb instead of his usual sun, and places a hand on Tim’s head. “You’re creepy sometimes, you know that?”

“And you’re careless sometimes, you know that?” Tim groused. “Ugh, whatever. Let’s just get this over with. I can’t believe I’m going to have a roommate.”

“It’ll be fun! And if it isn’t, you can always swap roomies. We have enough pull to have that happen.”

“Doubtlessly.” Damian said. “This campus barely passes the bar of acceptability. Why is the campus like this. Why is it incorporated into the city.”

Tim smirked. Even though Damian spoke with formal language only found in the highest of echelons of society, Jon’s influence was beginning to make itself known. Good for him, the little shit. Privately, Tim thought the presence of a Kryptonian brought out the better sides of a bat. God knows Kon did, for him.

“Okay, enough whining you two! Let’s get Tim settled in.”

Tim elbowed Dick in the gut and kept walking into the building as his big brother wheezed dramatically. Damian rolled his eyes- he’s seen Nightwing take harder hits than Drake’s pointy elbows and walk it off- and followed. Unbeknownst to them, Dick all but beamed with joy at their solidarity. His plan was working.

——

Tim settled into the dorm, disgruntled at the small and uncomfortable twin mattress. The dorm smelt of faint mildew, had at least ten safety code violations, and had ventilation that probably hasn’t been cleaned since the last fear gas attack. The vent thing honestly might explain the state of Gotham U’s students and their proclivities to become supervillains. Tim is more tempted to go into villainy than ever before with these conditions.

That is, until his roomie walked in.

Step 1) reboot brain.

Holy shit, his roomie was HOT.

Step 2) notice all the weird things his roomie all showed unconsciously. Too graceful. Walking carefully, like how Kon does sometimes when he’s remembering to be careful with his fragile surroundings. Meta? Too sharp teeth.

Wait. Sharp teeth?

“Uh, hi. I’m Danny. You must be my roommate. Tim, right?” The guy, Danny, had a deep voice. And too sharp teeth. Because he smiled. It was a damn nice smile.

Step 3) bi panic. DID TIM MENTION HE WAS HOT??

“Uh. Hi. Yeah, I’m Tim.”

“Cool. What’re you majoring in?”

“Forensic Analysis. You?”

“Aerospace engineering.”

They looked at each other awkwardly. “Cool, I’m just gonna set my stuff down.”

“You’re not from here, right?” Tim asked and promptly flushed when an amused smile gets thrown his way.

“The accent give it away?”

“Yeah. Uh. You want a tour, man?”

“Sure. Thanks.”

——

It was flashes of things.

“Oh. I don’t go anywhere without my thermos.” Danny smiled, patting the dented thing. Except, Tim’s never seen him drink from it.

Or:

“Oh, woah. Food’s not attacking me.” And the thing is, Danny actually looked apprehensive before poking at the cafeteria food.

What??

And a month passes before Tim realizes he’s one hundred percent absolutely fucked.

Because it’s one thing if it’s an extremely attractive dork with brains and humor.

It’s an entirely different thing if the extremely attractive dork with brains and humor was a complete and total mystery. Tim is an absolute sucker for mysteries. It’s even more attractive than smacking him in the face with a brick!

“Hey, Tim?”

“Uh. Yeah?” Tim screamed at himself. He’s dated like fifteen different people! Why the hell is he so awkward with Danny?

(Tim was always awkward. He has that autistic rizz.)

“Tell me more about blood splatters?” Danny asked with a hopeful smile. Tim folded like wet paper. (It helps that he knows a lot- too much- about analyzing blood splatters.)

——

Outside of their window, Nightwing cackled to himself. It was worth using the Wayne name to get Tim the most interesting college kid Dick could find as a roommate. Who said Tim had the market corner on stalking anyways?

Nightwing flipped off of the roof, all but skipping home.

Robin, his patrol partner for the night, grimaced. For all Richard was his favorite, the man unsettled him at times.

[7brownsuga7]

Jungkook groom x reader bride

Summary: Groom Jungkook fucks you (the bride) before your wedding, even though you persist that it’s bad luck, his desires get the best of him. And you, well you can’t help but to fold.

Warnings: smut, explicit language, unprotected sex, creampie, yadiyada basically the basics Lfmao.

Note: this has been sitting in my drafts for so long? Like wtf. Anyways what way to start the year with a Jungkook fic? Back in my Jungkook era even though I never left. Thank you for reading and enjoy <3 mimi

It was a known fact that the groom shouldn’t see the bride before the wedding. Traditional, superstition, or whatever you called it. You had reminded Jungkook of it many times in the weeks leading up to your big day.

But the thought of not being able to see you and touch you didn’t sit right with Jungkook.

You had teased him; telling him he could survive a few hours. A light kiss against his lips as he pouted like a child.

But now, as you stood in your bridal suite, slipping on the final touches to your wedding look, a soft knock interrupted your thoughts. You glanced at the door in confusion, eyebrows furrowed. No one was supposed to be here.

Before you could even ask who it was, the door creaked open revealing Jungkook in his perfectly tailored tuxedo, his hair falling slightly into his eyes.

“Jungkook”! You hissed at him, hurrying towards the door in an attempt to stop him coming in any further. “You’re not supposed to be here!” You sulk as he beat you to it, fully stepping foot into the room.

His eyes roam over you, taking you in. So dark and intense, his lips curving into a slow, sinful smirk. “I don’t care”.

Your heart jumps at his tone, pussy clenching at the low and roughness that’s laced within it.

“Seriously?” You try again, your voice a bit weaker now, “this is bad luck. I already tol-“

He closes the distance between you in two strides. Hands gripping your waist as he backs you up against the vanity. A surprised shaky breath escapes your lips.

“The only bad luck,” he murmurs against your neck, his lips slightly brushing against the sensitive skin causing a shiver to run down your spine, “would be me not being able to touch you right now”.

He hungrily kisses your lips before you can protest. You try to push him off of you, trying to remind him of the rules but his hands continued to firmly grip your waist pulling you against him.

You had no choice but to crumble.

“Jungkook” you breathe, your hands tangling in his hair as his mouth moves back to your neck, pressing open mouthed kisses that make your knees buckle.

“You have no idea,” he mutters against your skin, his voice thick with desire, “how hard it’s been not to touch you. To know you’re so close and not be able to have you.”

You moan out as he lifts you into the vanity, his lips instantly finding yours again. His fingers work quickly, tugging at the delicate buttons of your dress, his movements almost frantic.

“Be careful,” you gasp in between kisses, “this dress cost a fortune”.

He slightly chuckles as his eyes cast over you for a moment. “I’ll buy you a hundred more.” He sends kisses to your jaw, before he continues down to your collarbone, trailing down to the swell of your breasts that are barely covered by your lacy bra. “But right now, I need you.”

His hands separate your thighs, dark eyes drinking in the sight of you. “You’re perfect” he murmurs, eyes softening for a moment before his lips find yours again.

It didn’t take long for him to have you bare before him. Nipples exposed to the cool air as he fondles with them. His tuxedo jacket and shirt discarded aimlessly on the floor, allowing you to caress his bare shoulders as he continues to pleasure you. The urgency between you was electric, every touch and kiss igniting a fire that threatened to consume the both of you.

When he had had enough of his cock twitching at the thought of being inside you, the aching throb of what’s to come, he eagerly inserted his cock into the warmth of your pussy. A deep moan escaped his lips, his hands pulling you closer to him as buries himself deeper.

“Fuck” he groans, his forehead resting against yours as he began to move his hips. His thrusts low and deep, stealing the breath from your lungs.

“Jungkook” you whimper, nails digging into his bare back as his pace quickens, his control slipping away with every thrust. His hand wraps around your neck, thumb caressing the sensitive skin.

“You feel so good baby” his voice rasps. You clench around him as he hungrily kisses you again.

Hand still wrapped around your neck, you tilt your head up and bite your lip as he continues, “so perfect, so mine.”

He forces you to look at him, and just from the way his dark eyes lowly and dangerously admire you, you can feel your orgasm quickly approach.

“Fuck, y/n”

The sound of your name falling from his lips to the way his body moved with yours - it was overwhelmingly intoxicating. Utterly addicting.

“Ugh k-kook” you moan between breaths, feeling the tension build up. His moves become more erratic as he drives you closer and closer to the edge.

“Come for me” he demands in a whisper, his hand sliding between your bodies to rub on your clit.

It doesn’t take long for your body to tremble under him and your breathing to form into gasps. He wasn’t far behind either. And when he came he released himself into you as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

For a moment, the only sound that could be heard was the soft hum of your breathing as he held you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you.

“Still think it’s bad luck?” A teasing smile playing on his lips as he looks down at you.

You laugh, your fingers brushing against his hair, removing the fallen strands out of his face before your fingers find his jaw in a gentle caress. “We’ll find out soon enough, won’t we?”

He kisses you again, slow and tender this time, as if to remind you that, luck or no luck, you were his - and nothing was going to change that.

[abiiors]

𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚠𝚘 — 𝚖.𝚑.

⚝ 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬, 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭

⤏ 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐲 𝐱 𝐨𝐟𝐜 (𝐣𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬)

“i could give you that” jules chokes on her coke. “…what?” “i said i could give you that,” matty doesn't shy away from repeating it. if anything, he sounds even more confident than the first time. “if it's just sex you want.” ─── ⋆⋅♡︎⋅⋆ ── after the worst break up of her life, jules makes a deal with matty—no strings, no commitments, just sex. matty's perfect for this. she feels nothing for him apart from physical attraction. besides, after her ex, jules is sure she is never going to fall for another indie rockstar looking to make it big. matty's sure too. he's far too busy focusing on his band to have the time for falling in love. effectively, it's a perfect arrangement. it shouldn't be too hard, then, to follow the rules and keep her resolve… right?

⤏ 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲!! ☆

(because of timezones this might turn out to be sunday and wednesday for you but i’m experimenting with different timings to post)

𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞:

a huge, huge, HUGE thank you to @ughgoaway for beta reading this, i would have felt so much less confident in this without you!!

this was not supposed to come out first. i was going to re-release keep your enemies closer in august and then post this in november. but i've realised chronologically posting this first makes so much more sense!!

anyway... SISTER SERIES!!! (so you will get crumbs of cleo and george too). keep your enemies closer is also in the works and almost done being written ♡︎♡︎

ps: it's fully written we're not abandoning it don't worry i know my fucking track record

[ladysharmaa]

Why don't you love me?

Anthony Bridgerton x reader

Summary: Y/n and Anthony are in an arranged marriage. When she stops trying to make the relationship work and be the perfect wife, Anthony realizes what he's lost. Will he be able to get her back?

(gif is not mine)

It wasn't the marriage she wanted. And it wasn't what he wanted, because, in fact, he didn't even want to be married. And he didn't mind showing it. But for Y/n, she tried to make the best of their unfortunate situation.

It all started at the beginning of the season when Violet Bridgerton decided that her firstborn had been single for too long. So, she spoke to Y/n's parents, who were good friends of hers, and they both decided that a marriage between the two would be beneficial to both families. Anthony was going to have the support of someone who would take Violet's place as Viscountess and Lady Bridgerton. For Y/n's life, in this society, having a husband was essential and this marriage would allow social advancement.

Thus, Anthony and Y/n agreed with this decision. The preparation for the wedding was carried out quickly and this event was the biggest news for days. Lady Whistledown didn't help matters either by immediately releasing an advert showing her doubts about Anthony having a wife.

This only worsened Y/n's mood, who already feared being married to Viscount Bridgerton, as she was now doubting all the lovers Anthony could take to their bed. Would he not respect their marriage? Did she just want an heir and take care of the children? With these doubts, she said the "I do" in front of hundreds of people watching the ceremony, and allowed just one tear to fall.

From the beginning, Anthony made a point of making it clear that their marriage was purely a compromise, and that he would never truly love her. He was going to fulfill his role and try to have an heir and outside the house, they would act like a happy couple, but it wouldn't go beyond that. In silence, Y/n just offered him a nod, showing that she understood.

However, since then, nothing has happened between them. Anthony allowed her to have her own room, something Y/n was more than grateful for. Having to look at the face of her husband who would never love her every time she fell asleep would be too painful.

She was expecting that on some nights he would enter her room to try to get her with child. But none of that happened, which only confused Y/n more. Was he so disgusted by the idea of being married to her that he didn't even want to have pleasure with her?

So she tried to distract herself with tasks that could take some of the work off Anthony's shoulders and try to be the perfect wife. But Anthony still refused to spend more than five minutes alone with her. At breakfast, he was already at the office when Y/n woke up to go eat, at night he preferred to spend time with his brothers instead of returning home. He was making everyone's life difficult and Y/n was starting to get more and more sad. Would this be her routine until the end of her life? Trying to please a husband who didn't want her?

It was on a summer afternoon that Y/n, upon returning from a social gathering with Anthony's mother and sister, realized how hot the mansion was. She quickly remembered how Viscount's office, the few times she had been there, was directly in the sun which made it even hotter. So she decided to be brave and try to have at least a friendly relationship with her husband, so she went to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

With growing nerves, Y/n went to Anthony's office door and knocked on the wood. After hearing Anthony's voice, she opened the door, finding him plus Benedict, who had become good friends with Y/n.

"Oh, I apologize if I am interrupting." she said shyly, keeping to the doorway.

"You are." Anthony immediately agreed in a deep voice, not paying attention to her and turning his attention back to the papers.

At the same time, his brother hurried to assure Y/n, "You're not interrupting anything. You even saved me from Anthony's boring lecture here."

The woman smiled uncomfortably. "Right. I just came to bring you a cup of water. It's so warm outside. I wasn't aware you were here, Mr. Bridgerton, but I can go and also bring you some water."

"Thank you, Y/n, I would—"

However, he couldn't finish his sentence as Anthony hit the table, causing his wife to jump in fright and immediately take a step back. Her reaction made Anthony's expression show some regret, but he quickly hid it. A silence fell between the three.

"I'm fed up, Y/n! Can't you understand that men are trying to work?! Go back to your life of looking at flowers and walking around without having to do anything and leave!"

Y/n's mouth opened and closed several times, trying to understand what had just happened. Finally, she pursed her lips and her eyes turned cold. "I apologize, Lord Bridgerton. It won't happen again. If you'll excuse me."

When she left the room, Benedict looked at his brother in shock. "That was so harsh. The poor girl was trying to be nice and cared enough to bring you a glass of water. If you don't want it, I'll have it. I'm talking about the glass and her."

"Don't you dare." he muttered with a clenched jaw, glaring furiously at Benedict. Where did this anger come from just thinking about Y/n with another man? "Now, let's go back to discuss how you spent money on a bet."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Y/n's behavior with Anthony changed completely. Everyone noticed that the Viscountess finally reached her limit, and stopped being the friendly wife, now looking coldly at her husband whenever they passed each other in the mansion. However, as a couple and heads of the family, they still had obligations to fulfill together.

Public appearances were more tense, but they still managed to keep a smile on their faces and talk to all the ladies who asked about their marriage and when they would have children, giving short answers so that nothing would end up in Lady Whistledown's hands. They also attended a horse race, even betting on different horses that would win. Y/n ended up winning the bet, and her smug look irritated Anthony for the rest of the day, something his brothers were quick to tease him about.

But despite not liking Anthony after his cruel words, which Y/n still thought about constantly, she adored his sisters and mother. They had accepted Y/n into the family, including her in their gatherings and even being a should to cry on. Daphne had already said more than once that she would have no problem going to Anthony and try to talk some sense into him, but Y/n refused. Anthony already didn't like her, if he thought she was turning his family against him he would hate her even more. And she didn't need to make her life worse than it already was.

One day, when she went with Anthony to the Bridgerton mansion to drop off some documents, Hyacinth, Anthony's younger sister, took her aside. Y/n followed the girl to the bathroom where she, with teary eyes and trembling lips, asked her if she was going to die when she started bleeding from her lady parts. Hyacinth also revealed to her that she wanted to go to her mother, but she had gone shopping with Francesca and was alone at home with just Collin. Y/n, very calmly and gently, assured her that it was a normal thing and that all women went through this, explaining what she should do.

It was no secret that Y/n was happy that Hyacinth trusted her with this scary situation and that she was able to help the girl. Despite all the problems in her marriage, she now had a role in helping Anthony's sisters and she never wanted to fail in that.

To Y/n's surprise, Hyacinth ended up giving her a big hug, remaining attached to her for the rest of the afternoon. Her period was making her so affectionate, more than she already was, that Y/n couldn't stop a big smile from appearing on her face at receiving so much affection.

Anthony, when he finally finished talking to Collin about the documents he brought, I was surprised to see his sister on the couch hugging Y/n. "Hyacinth, what are you doing?"

"Hugging my sister-in-law, brother. But you don't know what that is, do you?" she snapped. The girl's change in mood made Y/n have to put a hand over her mouth to keep Anthony from hearing the laughter that escaped her.

The shock on Anthony's face was comical. His little sister was basically choosing Y/n over him. And in truth, he didn't judge her because his wife was, without a doubt, better than him. And she deserved so much better.

On the other hand, his heart warmed when he saw the bond that the two had created. It was clear that Y/n felt great affection for his family. Could it be that if he had accepted this marriage from the beginning, they would now be a happy family? That they would spend afternoons together, cuddling on the couch and talking to his siblings? All these thoughts were racing through his mind, and the guilt was growing so much that he felt like he was going to vomit.

"Lord Bridgerton?" that sweet voice he had come to adore brought him out of his thoughts. He hated that since he snapped at her, she never called him by his first name again.

"What?" he asked, still disoriented.

Y/n was looking at him like he was stupid. "I asked if you were ready to leave. Hyacinth already went to her room to rest. I would like to do the same. So you must make haste."

Her bossy tone almost made his lips curl into a smile, but he controlled himself in time. "Of course, wife. We shall leave now. But I have to ask, what happened between you and my sister?"

"All you need to know is that she's fine and she's a woman now. But don't worry, as your wife, I'll handle these situations. Unless you prefer me to go look at the flowers, take a walk, and do nothing?"

The hint, which was delivered with great anger, caused the man to blush in shame and lower his head. Y/n didn't wait for his answer, taking her coat from a maid and walking to the carriage. He had screwed everything up.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

A few more days had passed and the situation between Y/n and Anthony had only gotten stranger. The day after the situation with Hyacinth, Y/n was coming down from her room to go get breakfast, as she always did, when she came across Anthony at the table, appearing to be waiting for her to eat.

Y/n stopped abruptly, looking at him in shock. "What are you doing?"

"I'm waiting for you so we can have breakfast. I have to go see my brothers again today to talk business, so I was thinking you could come with me and spend some time with my sisters. My mother She's also been saying how she hasn't seen you in a while. That is, only if you want to go. If not, I'll just go… Or I'll stay here to keep you company, whatever you want." he choked up, finishing his speech by drinking some milk, perhaps to calm his nerves.

Y/n remained in place without moving. She looked at Anthony strangely, as if doubting that those words had even come out of his mouth.

"It was silly of me to ask—"

"No," she interrupted him. "It's fine. I would actually like to go and spend time with your sisters. They are lovely. I shall go get ready then."

"Aren't you going to have breakfast with me first?"

"Lord Bridgerton, I've been eating breakfast alone since we got married and I came to live with you. I think you can handle doing the same for a day. Excuse me." she said with an exaggerated smile, turning her back on him and starting to go back to her room. However, she turned back to go get a cake that was on the table. "But I'm hungry so I will eat this in my chambers."

"Call me Anthony!" he exclaimed before she was completely gone. He had a desperate look, almost looking like he needed to hear his name come out of her lips.

"No."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Like every year, the Queen decided to throw a ball to celebrate the Diamond of the Season. The most eligible maiden on the marriage market. Y/n still remembers the first ball she attended — Daphne was the diamond of the season, but Y/n also managed to dance with a few suitors. Of course, in the end, she didn't end up marrying any of them. However, the nerves she felt at that ball were equal to or less than what she felt today: her first ball married to Anthony.

The Viscount and Viscountess had entered together, her hand resting on his arm, followed by Violet and the rest of his siblings. Tonight they would have to be on the lookout for suitors who might want to dance with Francesca, the diamond of the season.

Anthony quietly appreciated his wife. She looked breathtaking in her dress, her hair neatly tied back that showed off her majestic earrings, given by Anthony on their wedding day. He was proud to have a wife like Y/n, and he regreted that he hadn't shown it since day one.

While the Bridgertons started to go their own way, interacting with other people and dancing, Y/n preferred to stay in the corner watching the couples dancing. She longed to experience that with Anthony, but not in a forced way like some were. No, she wanted it to be felt, for them to dance to the music and really appreciate that moment.

But instead of her husband approaching her, it was another man, Earl Cavendish. Y/n remembered some moments when she had already seen him, as he was looking to get married this season. As she approached her, with a confident air, Y/n lowered her head to compliment him, "Good afternoon, Earl Cavendish."

"Lady Bridgerton, a pleasure to meet you. I must say, you look flawless. Would you give me the pleasure of dancing with me?" he extended his hand.

Y/n's eyes widened, not knowing what to do. People had already started looking at them, whispering among themselves. However, she didn't have to respond to the invitation as she felt an arm wrap around her waist and bring her closer to him.

"Excuse me, Earl Cavendish, but I want to have the pleasure of dancing with my beautiful wife first." Anthony said with his jaw clenched, looking him up and down menacingly. "I'm sure you will be able to find other ladies to dance with tonight. Just not my wife."

The two men looked at each other for a few seconds, neither of them wanting to back down. Anthony grew more and more furious, her wrists clenching and bringing Y/n even closer to him, but careful not to hurt her.

"Very well. I shall leave. I hope to see you again someday, Lady Bridgerton."

"I will —" Anthony began by exclaiming in anger as the Earl walked towards another woman, not having liked the way he looked at what was his.

"You will do nothing." the Viscountess snapped coldly. "I can't understand you, you ignore me, you treat me badly, and then you act protective when another man shows interest in me? I never said anything about you having lovers, even though I didn't like that in our marriage."

"What? I've never disrespected our marriage like that, Y/n. In the past I've done a lot of things, but since we got married the only woman I'll look at and touch is you. I don't want anyone else."

"You have a funny way of showing it." she laughed sarcastically, feeling increasingly emotional. "I have to go get some air. You should go check on Francesca again."

Feeling the cold night air, Y/n's heart began to calm down. It was so difficult having to deal with Anthony's changes of attitude, she couldn't understand him. She just wanted to be loved, and since that wasn't possible, she preferred that they stay as far away from each other as possible since being friends didn't seem to be an option either.

"I'm sorry." the voice she had come to know so well whispered behind her. Y/n refused to turn around, leaning against the balcony and taking deep breaths to control her emotions. "I shouldn't have acted the way I did. I know that marrying me shouldn't have been your choice either, but I was scared. I was scared to have a wife, because that meant I had another person in my life that I could lose ."

She finally had the courage to turn around and look into Anthony's brown eyes. They held back tears and showed the sadness, regret and anger that Anthony felt.

"I'm so angry with myself for the way I treated you. You deserve so much better than this. And I'm sorry I couldn't give you that. The cruel words I said to you but didn't mean. I was scared to let you in. in my heart, so I tried to push you away. Believe that all I want is to have you in my arms. To love you. To start a family with you. Please, I promise I will do better. And every day I will try to reward you for what you do.

"Lord Bridgerton—"

"Please, call me Anthony. It pains me when you call me like that. Reminds me that I was… Am so close to losing the best thing of my life. I will kneel before you and beg for forgiveness if that's what you want." he murmured with a hand over his heart, beginning to kneel on the ground without hesitation.

"There is no need for that… Anthony." she enjoyed seeing the relief and happiness that spread across his face upon hearing his first name. "I just don't understand why you didn't love me? And now you want to try to make our marriage work?"

"That's the thing, I have always loved you. I love you. My whole body, my heart, feels love for you. That has never changed." he revealed desperately. "I was a coward and didn't know how to deal with my feelings. Because they are so strong that my heart feels like it's going to come out of my chest. Please, give me another chance."

"Hmm, I don't now." The look of disappointment was so marked on Anthony's face, almost looking like he was ready to burst into tears, that Y/n stopped his suffering and showed him an amused smile, making him understand that she was joking. "I think I want you to suffer a little more to get my forgiveness."

"I will do anything for you, Y/n. Ask me the world and I will give it to you."

"Such a romantic now, aren't you?" she whispered, admiring his features.

She didn't realize their faces were so close until she felt his nose trace the delicate skin of her cheek. A gasp escaped her mouth, and Anthony took the opportunity to connect their lips in an unforgettable kiss.

Anthony pulled away quicker than he wanted, but he needed to make sure this was really what his wife wanted. "I love you."

"Kiss me again, and maybe I will also tell you that."

And what his wife wanted, he did. The two remained on the balcony, enjoying the comfort the other gave them. They still had a long way to go, but they knew that from that moment on, their lives would change drastically for the better. They had each other.

[nullen-void]

For a long time I wondered if the final TF2 comic would ever come out. For a longer time I wondered if I wanted it to. They built it up so much, hyped the Administrator's big plan so high, and then waited so long, could they possibly ever meet expectations?

I don't know if what they did was what they originally planned, or if there even was a plan, but I think they knocked it out of the park. It feels... right.

And it cemented the Administrator as one of the most terrifying villains in history. But before I discuss that, SPOILERS:

It was all pointless. None of it ever mattered.

The Gravel Wars, the fighting, the Australium, the deaths, the Classic Mercs, none of it mattered at all. Because Helen or whatever her name is just an addict getting her fix.

She kept a man alive for near enough two hundred years, trapped in the moment just before death by a thousand diseases, because she dedicated her life so thoroughly to ending him that when he finally croaked, she had nothing left. So she brought him back to suffer more. And then extended her OWN life so she could keep making him suffer.

And she doesn't even remember why. She was a child when Zepheniah Mann killed her parents, and she's something like a hundred and seventy years old now. It's been three normal lifetimes since then, and she's forgotten. But she never forgot the hate.

She sabotaged two infant's futures by raising them to be bafoons just to hurt their father. She orchestrated a forever war to spite a single man. She was prepared to keep this going until the heat death of the universe.

Do you know what would have happened if Pauling had lost her nerve and admitted they found a new stash of magic metal? With all three Mann brothers dead, she probably would have gone after Olivia. The last Mann standing, and a girl who at the time was only seven and had barely any connection to the Mann legacy at all, and probably didn't know her grandfather's name! And Helen would have gone after her and ruined her life just to make Zepheniah watch as yet another generation of Mann was ruined.

What a pointless, misspent life. What a waste of time. What an ending.

It makes what comes next all the greater. Scout and Soldier are dads with happy children, Spy still can't admit their relation but gets to be part of his grandkids' lives and he and Jeremy trust each other enough that Scout doesn't blink when he takes his mask off. Team Fortress is happy. They moved on. Found new lives.

Helen couldn't. She had all the time in the world and then some, and she just couldn't move on.

What a waste.

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fanfic: Shift

Danny wanders down the street, confused.

A few minutes ago, he had been sure that the tour guide and his school group were only a few feet away. They were on the last day of their three-day field trip, covering the history of one of the oldest cities in the USA.

It's not the oldest, but the closest Casper High could offer. Gotham City is much bigger than Amity, but it didn't have anything really interesting about it besides having more things to do. Its only claim of fame was how old some significant buildings were in Old Gotham.

Still, for some students who have yet to leave the small town of Amity Park, Gotham was a thing of wonder. Danny couldn't wait to explore with Sam and Tucker tomorrow on their free day. They were going to walk around the plaza market and the mall.

Gotham's mall had five floors. Five.

Then Danny noticed the hotdog cart just a few feet away from the guide informing the group about the large theater, the first public building in Gotham. He hadn't cared for how many balls were held there or how, a few hundred years later, the building gained a stage and seats.

He gestured to the cart to tell Sam he wanted to buy one. He turned to Tucker, but his friend was genuinely interested in the history lesson and shook his head. Danny figured they would cover for him, so he stepped to the side to buy a hotdog, keeping Tucker and Sam in his provisional vision.

He had just finished putting the ketchup on his food when he realized the sounds of the busy city had shifted. It wasn't that it went silent or anything. It was more like sound traveling from one headphone to another.

But he wasn't wearing earbuds, which made the shifting noise extremely alarming. He looked up and around, but everything seemed to stay the same, except there was less traffic, and the sidewalk wasn't as clean as he initially thought. Also, what happened to the sun? Where did all these clouds come from?

Danny turned to ask Tucker and Sam if a freak storm was supposed to happen, but they were gone. So was the Amity Park group. Swinging his head back and forth, he attempts to spot them in the moving crowd, but he can't spot a familiar face.

How did twenty-seven people move that quickly and silently?

"Hey! You need to pay for that!" The hotdog vendor on the other side of the cart shouts. "The ketchup isn't free!"

"But I just bought these two from you." Danny raises his food so that the man can see the logo of his own cart. The man's eyes widen when he sees it. "I just paid-"

"You little thief! You stole from my cart!" The man sneers. Danny reels back, surprised by the accusation as much as the rage in which the man yells. It seems like an overreaction to the student.

"No, I literally just handed you seven dollars for-" Whatever Danny is going to say is cut off by the man cocking a gun, now aimed at his face. Nearby, a woman screams, and the walking crowd breaks into a run, almost as if it's practice clearing the street in seconds.

Wow, it's a much better reaction time than the people of Amity Park. He would have been impressed if he hadn't had a gun aimed at his face.

"What are you doing?"

"You damn street rats are the reason good upstanding citizens like me are struggling! Go back to your county!" The man hisses, and Danny is confused by the sudden attitude shift of what he previously thought was a friendly vendor to take the gun in his face seriously.

The guy wasn't even that scary, not with that pathetic stance. Danny had learned a better stance by the time he was five, and his father had pointed a gun at him in a more threatening way that one time he was dressed as a rubber duck than this.

Scowling, Danny pushes the gun away with the tips of his fingers. "Rude. See if I give your food any stars."

The man makes the motion to pull the trigger, so Danny moves his hand into a strike, knocking the gun from his grip. In one quick turn, he turns it around and points it at the gawking man with a bored expression.

"I'm going to walk away with my meal now," He tells him, watching sweat gathering on the vendor's forehead. The pulse in the older man is rapidly bouncing around his neck, making Danny smirk.

Hotdog man goes sheet white but shutters out, "Alright."

Danny keeps the gun aimed at him even as he gathers his two dogs in one hand and backs away into the street. It's only when he turns a corner, out of sight, that Danny lowers his weapon.

He texts his friends in the three-way chat they have, asking where they went. When a few minutes goes by without the little read sign next to his words goes by, Danny tries calling them. His phone, however, claims his services are out, making him wonder if his Dad forgot to pay the bill again.

Jack could afford it, but the bill deadline always slipped his mind, and he would like to have to wait till Monday to turn it back on. Sighing, Danny decides to head back to the hotel where the school is staying, thinking it would be better to wait out for Mr.Lancer than get lost in the big city.

He strides down the street, following the same path the group took from the Hotel. As he does so, he notices something odd.

Gotham seems wrong. Darker somehow, and the previously friendly people had all vanished as everyone around him gave him dark, mistrustful glances. Not everyone smiles back when Danny says, "We're strangers, but this is a quick, friendly acknowledgment" smile.

It couldn't be the gun. Danny hides it in his pants, the same way he hides his thermos. No one should be able to tell what he's carrying.

It is strange. He's so busy trying to figure out what happened that he nearly misses the fact that the previously well-kept streets have been replaced with closed-down, decrypted buildings. He does notice that the hotel he was staying at for the past two days was boarded up, looking like it's been years since someone last used it.

"What?" He whispers, checking the large sign twice. It's the same name, but three letters are missing.

"That's what I want to know." A man grunts behind him, causing Danny to wirl around and stare in horror at the approaching police officer. "What are you doing with here?"

"I was staying at this hotel." He tells the other man, too disorientated to notice how silent the street had become. He can spot some people watching from the alleyway despite broad daylight. They were hiding. From what?

"Were you? And how much do you have on you?" The cop asks casually.

"Of what?"

The man rolls his eyes before he suddenly kicks Danny in the stomach. The boy is knocked to the floor with a soft grunt of pain. A stomp on his hand has him screaming in pain, but what really makes him angry is the fingers moving around the back of his hands until they close around his wallet.

Nah, was this cop trying to mug him?

Danny throws up a hand, using the palm of his hand to slam it against the chin of the mugger. The man's head is knocked back, and he tilts over, falling into a dead heap. Danny stands, dusts his clothes, and kicks the cop once.

He looks back to the hotel.

Where should he go now? A few seconds go by, and he can see the people in the alley cautiously start to climb out of their hiding, and he thinks it's better to try to find a phone to call home.

He twists on his heels and marches down the street, unaware of the man in yellow watching from a nearby roof.

The man reaches up to his ear, clicking on his communicator as the stranger looks confused despite knowing where he is going. "This is Signal. I found the guy that triggers the Nest's alarms. He seems trained but can't be, at most, sixteen. He also just took down Jeff, the one Gordon was talking about. Let's keep an eye on him. He looks like radiation grew legs and took the shape of a human. "