#'well if that's how he wants to play it then i'll just out-play HIM'

[romancherry]

Wheels & Whiskey

Chapter 1: A Night Out

pairings ➝ biker!joel miller x doctor!reader

summary ➝ you have been evoiding him for a while. now, your friend unknowingly drags you somewhere you cannot escape him.

warnings ➝ none

word count ➝ 951

author’s note ➝ i will post this now, without editing it or adding a cover and whatever. i'll pray for the best, and if i wake up in the morning and see this blowing up, i'll continue it. love yall!

do NOT repost, reupload, translate or plagiarize my work.

After busy days at work in the hospital wore you down completely to the point you were literally married to the job and never leaving the house unless you had to go to work; it was clear your best friend had to do something about it.

Maria is your well trusted nurse, but a devilish little friend. She moved into town at the same time you did, which was about two months ago, so she didn't know how things really went around here; and neither did you. But you thought it would be common sense not to come here.

You almost jump back into the car when you see where she has driven you: to none other than Wheels & Whiskey, where the big bad bikers gather every day and every night.

You begged her to go home and enjoy yourselves there, but she was too excited to see what all the fuss was about. "I wanna know what bikers eat for dessert," she said. So that's when you realized you had no chance.

It didn't help that everyone knew who you were. The second you walked inside, people made space for you to pass through. "How are you so popular?", Maria asked. "I stitched all the people in here at least twice," you replied.

It was half the truth. Indeed, some of the privilege was granted because you had earned it through your medical capabilities. But most of it came from someone else entirely.

Joel Miller. The owner of the local and the leader of his stupid gang of bikers. The one who's been flirting with you ever since you came into this small town, where everyone knew anyone. You couldn't escape him even if you wanted to.

Joel sat at the far end of the bar, his usual spot, nursing a beer and watching the crowd like a hawk. As the door swung open, his eyes flicked toward it, locking onto you the moment you stepped inside.

Your entrance didn't go unnoticed. The usual murmur of conversation died just a moment, and everyone gave you a little extra space. Joel smirked into his drink, taking a slow sip. He knew why they did that. It wasn't just because you were a doctor.

It was because you were his — and everyone in here knew it, apart from you.

He found you very interesting. He wasn't sure if it was the way you didn't fall for the small-town charms or how you'd walk past him with that cool, detached look on your face, but you weren't like anyone else in this place. And if he was being honest with himself, it made you damn hard to resist.

He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. His eyes never left you as you made your way through the crowd.

Maria, the one who had no idea what she was walking into, was giddy with excitement as you passed her.

Joel's smirk twitched. He could already see her trying to play it cool, acting like she wasn't intimidated by the sheer presence of everyone in this room.

But you? You walked around here like you owned the place. And Joel wasn't one to let you slip by without a little something, a little spark to keep the fire going.

He stood, stretching, before crossing the room in a few long strides, stopping just in front of you and your friend.

"Good evenin', ladies." Joel said, his voice laced with amusement. "Guessin' you didn't come here for the food." He looks up and down at you twice. "Not that I blame you. It's pretty damn good, but I wouldn't say that's what brings most people in here."

He leaned closer just enough to let you feel the heat from his body and that familiar scent of him. "So, what's got you all worked up tonight? You need a drink, or maybe just some company?"

His eyes flicked to you and then to Maria, and then back to you. "I could show you around, if you're interested. I can think of a few things that might keep your attention." His voice dropped a little, playful but with an edge of something deeper.

"Though, I'm not sure your friend can keep up." Joel's grin was easy, but there was something behind it. He wasn't looking for you to turn him down tonight.

"Maria, this is Joel, the owner of this local. Joel, she is Maria, my friend from work."

Joel's smile didn't falter, even as you dismissed his advances with practiced indifference. He was used to your cool demeanor, but it never stopped him from trying to chip away at it.

"Nice to meet you," he said, his tone smooth as velvet. "I'm sure you'll find the place... interesting," he added, looking around with a knowing glance that made it clear this wasn't just any regular bar.

"This is... a lot," Maria's eyes widened as she took in the surroundings, looking around at the rough crowd, the tattoos, the flexing muscles.

Joel chuckled, the sound warm but tinged with the kind of confidence that came from knowing exactly who he was. His gaze shifted back to you, that flicked of challenge still in his eyes.

"I'll take care of you tonight, Doc. You need anythin', you let me know. Drinks are on me, as always."

Maria shot you a glance, clearly impressed by his boldness.

Joel tipped his beer toward you in a small salute, the unspoken challenge still lingering in the air, before he turned back to the bar, sliding back into his seat, his eyes flickering toward you one more time, almost like a promise.

He wasn't going anywhere tonight.

[braclii]

WELL... ok you asked for it . but be warned that its just me taking diluc crumbs and interpreting them however i want because if hyv won't give me more diluc lore i'll just write my own

first of all. its very obvious that diluc is literally batman. and while the fandom and the story itself focuses on the anti-hero persona i don't think we focus enough on the man under the mask. one thing we know about bruce wayne is that that man is a player. he will flirt with everyone to get what he wants. while i don't think that diluc is the same exact way, i think he Does play into the most popular bachelor in town role to navigate situations and perhaps cope with all that mental issues he's got.

in the webtoon (which is the place where we learn most about him) we first see him as the rich gentleman who is loved by everyone in the city. he mediates between dottore and seamus like "let's just have fun gentlemen 🤍" yet at the end we see him not caring about either of them and trying to handle the situation himself.

now you might say that this sounds more like kaeya's facade of a player. he's most likely pretending to get his way. and you wouldn't be wrong, but there's another element to consider: this man can't lie + he's obsessed with honesty and justice.

this brings me to my other point: diluc and kaeya are narrative foils. they contrast each other in Every Way. even their color palettes are opposites of each other. they're so opposites of each other that at the end they end up as the same person. we see this in their personalities as well: while kaeya pretends to be this rogue character (convincing people that he's slacking off, working on his treasure hoarder list that is supposed to be a secret out in the open at a tavern???, pretending to not care about family) if you read between the lines he's actually a good little boy. see example:

not "the same way you threw me out" no. he's more upset about the family legacy. meanwhile diluc, who's supposed to be the foil to kaeya's ""bad boy"" attitude, doesn't give a fuck.

kaeya is a knight that is "destined" to destroy mondstadt, which sums up his "kind and loyal person who pretends to be a bad guy to cope with the trauma and responsibility placed on his shoulders at a young age" personality quite well.

while in contrast diluc is raging and raving about being honest and protecting the city and its people but look at his actions: goes on a 4 year long journey despite people telling him not to, obsessively hunts fatui for personal pleasure (it's "revenge" but is revenge not personal pleasure?), is a wanted vigilante, but he acts like an innocent, well-meaning businessman. let's quote rosaria here:

to conclude this messy and incoherent rant: i think it would only make sense for diluc to be a flirt no matter how subtly. kaeya flirts to keep a facade and diluc keeps a facade to flirt or whatever. and i'd like to make him more batman.

also lets be real "the most eligible bachelor in mondstadt" is not an innocent nickname .

i’m currently going mildly viral on twitter for this tweet:

and it’s really making it clear to me that some of y’all are not playing the same game as i am because like:

my buddy kaeya? my close personal friend kaeya alberich?

like this was a half-baked thought i tweeted out in 30 seconds so you don’t have to agree with the characterization (i’m not even sure i agree with the characterization)

but if y’all are looking me in the eye and telling me that kaeya is unironically a ladies’ man and a player then i’m gonna need you to go back to every single event he’s been in and look at how his shell of facile charm has been ruthlessly and systematically dismantled by the game itself

[admirationandromantics]

Best Friend's Brother

This request is literally 10 days old, which, to some, might not seem as a long time. For me however, it is. I'm sorry, but as I've described, I'm just trying to balance writing and school right now, so I'll be writing a little less than before.

Word count: 1,6k (unedited)

could u write a best friend older brother trope josh x reader. luv you works btww xx -anon

I knock on the door, waiting for Beth to open up. We’d planned a movie night while her parents were gone, and Hannah was at Sam’s. Josh was still home, but she told me he wouldn’t be a bother, and would probably stay in his room the whole night. 

I have met him many times before, and would even call us friends. Though at the same time, I often wonder if he looks at me like another baby sister, despite only being one year apart. He often gives me a hard time, teasing me and joking around, but most times, I don’t mind. I usually also hope that he never means anything with his small occasional comments, because nothing will happen either way. My best friend’s brother? That would be a problem just waiting to happen. 

Josh and I have been drunk together, partied together and been on get togethers together, though I’m not familiar with everyone in their group yet. 

I stand outside, my patience running low in the cold weather, wishing I brought a scarf. I hear footsteps coming from inside. Finally. The door unlocks, and a broad, tan Josh in a thin rolled up sweater and some sweatpants stands there, arm against the doorframe. He gives a small smile, looking me over. 

“Well, look who decided to come while the parents are out” he coos, a small whistling sound coming out of his lips. 

“Well, hello Joshua, care to let me in?” 

He smiles, contemplating whether to make this difficult or not. I look around, sighing and waiting for an answer, thinking about shouting Beth’s name and telling her that her brother is being a prick. Luckily, he opens the door further, making space for me to walk inside. “Thank you” I say, trying to hide my smile a bit. I’ve been here many times before, so I immediately know where to hang my coat and leave everything else. Josh keeps standing there, watching me. 

“Beth is out, said something about getting snacks for your movie night” He explains, and I nod. The store is not far from here, so she will probably be back soon. 

“Well then, do you know which movie she’s got planned?”

“Of course I do, I’m the one who helps pick them out”

I give him a curious and sceptical look, not having heard this before. He keeps his gaze locked on my gaze, a small smirk playing on his lips. 

“Have you?” 

“Every time” 

My mouth opens a little. Beth is always talking about her great taste in movies, never having mentioned this before. 

“No, are you serious? Beth has never given you any credit”

“Little sisters… what do you expect?” 

I hum, not knowing how to respond to that. I walk inside, him following closely as I sit myself by the kitchen counter. 

“So, what movie have you chosen then?” I ask, looking up at him again. Instead of sitting, he just leans against the counter with one arm, body turned my way. I can’t help my gaze, looking over his revealed forearms. 

“Something a bit different than usual…” he smirks, eyes following my gaze down to his arms. I break free, leaning forward a bit. 

“Okay, what movie?” 

“A scary one” 

“No”

“Oh yes” 

I whine, leaning back again. I hate scary movies, I hate jumpscares and gore. Why can’t people just like normal, funny, cozy stuff? 

“Josh, are you serious?”

“And there we go, you’re starting to use my nickname” 

“Joshua! Are you serious?”

“Well, that lasted for long”

I sigh, rolling my eyes. This is not how I want to spend my night, and considering that the walk home will be dark and scary, this movie will definitely fuel my fears. 

“Hey, calm down, it’s a good movie, maybe you just haven’t seen a good scary movie yet, this one might change your mind about the whole genre” He smiles, a hand going to my arm. I can't help the small blush coming from the touch, his fingers warm and comforting. I don’t want to do this, but I really can’t object when Beth is the one getting everything ready, and I just need to show up and have a good time. Or pretend I’m having a good time. 

The door opens, and his hand is immediately removed as Beth comes in, a big bag in her hands. She doesn’t notice me at first. 

“Beth!” I exclaim, and she lifts her head, nose a little red from the cold outside. 

“Hey, oh sorry, I didn’t have time to go earlier today” 

“That’s completely fine, here, let me take it” I state, walking over and taking the bag from her hands as she starts undressing. 

“My brother didn’t bother you?” 

I look over at him, and he just gives a small laugh, shaking his head and putting his hands up defensively. 

“No, he was fine” 

“Good, now, let's go” She smiles, leading me away from him, into their living room. She finds a couple of bowls, letting me distribute the snack in them as she works on getting the movie going. 

“Okay, so I know you’re not a scary movie-person, but I know this one is really good, so please, keep an open mind” 

I laugh a little, thinking back on the fact that Josh is the one who actually picked this out. 

“I’ll keep an open mind then” 

“Great” 

The movie starts, and we both sit down, a blanket over us as the lights dim. At first, the movie seems fine, the occasional jump scare, which scares me much more than it does Beth. Still, I keep watching, body tense and uncomfortable, but I can’t take my eyes off it. We’re in the middle when someone gets violently cut up, and the camera doesn’t bother to show us anything else than the blood and flesh flying everywhere, the gore not stopping. I take a breath, pulling my eyes from the screen and standing up. 

“I just need to use the bathroom”

“Gonna puke?”

I laugh a little, the tension in my shoulders easing as she talks. 

“No, but if there’s no important information in this sequence, please feel free to skip it, I'll be quick” I say, already making my way to the yellow-lighted hallway. It's light, in contrast to the room I was just in, and that makes me ease up a little more. Gosh, if this was to keep going, I wouldn’t dare walking home tonight. 

Suddenly, I hear a click, and the light goes away, leaving me in the dark hallway. I stop, looking around, unsure about what just happened. Another breath escapes my lips, reminding me that I can’t keep holding my breath everytime something startling happens. The hallway looks empty both ways, so I continue further, crossing my fingers that the light in the bathroom at least works. 

Before I can react, a couple of strong arms grab me from behind, caging me. I’m about to yell out, but as if anticipating it, the hand goes over my mouth, muffling my screams. I’m slammed into the wall, not too hard, luckily, but I close my eyes before the impact arrives. As I open them again, a smiling Josh is standing in front of me, biting his lips to hold in his laugh. My heart is still beating fast, breaths coming in and out in a rapid manner. I grab his hand roughly, dragging it off my mouth. 

“Joshua Washington! Are you fucking insane??” 

He bursts out laughing, arms against the wall beside me, holding himself up as he leans over. I shake my head, mouth still a little open in shock, whilst he can’t stop laughing. 

“Maybe, but you should’ve seen your face!” He chuckles, one of his hands going to his stomach to compose himself. It’s probably hurting right now from all the laughter. 

“Joshua! What the hell is wrong with you!?” 

“Okay, okay, calm down, just a little prank on my part” He smiles, finally calming down. 

“I have been watching a fucking horror movie, and you pull this shit?”

He bites his lip again, tilting his head a bit to examine me. 

“Oh, come on now, you’re totally thinking it’s funny” 

“No, I’m not” 

“Or you’re into it or something…”

“Wait, what, no I’m not, what kind of sick-”

Before I can process what’s happening, his lips are on me. I feel his breath, his body close, soft lips moving ove mine. My heart is still beating rapidly, but oddly enough, it calms with the way he’s touching me. Tender and carefully, not like himself at all. His hand goes to my waist, body pressing mine into the wall, opening his mouth a little. I hear a little groan leaving his throat. He pulls away, faces close as his eyes go over me, looking up and down. I almost think he looks a little vulnerable, but his signature smirk finds its way to his lips again. 

“Well then, calmer now?” 

I look at him, confused, conflicted. I scoff, shaking my head a bit. 

“No, I think I need a little more help” I state, hand going to the back of his neck, pulling him into me again. Capturing his lips on mine, already opening my mouth. He does the same, one hand on my hips, pulling me into him. 

“Hey, finished in the bathroom soon? I’ve paused the movie, the gore is over!” Beth shouts from the living room. We both pull away from each other and look over to the living room, luckily not seeing her there. I look back at him, seeing his chest heaving, hot breaths coming from his mouth. He turns, looking into my eyes. 

“Guess we better finish calming you down later” He smiles, pushing himself off me and the wall, walking back to his room. 

Fuck, what have I gotten myself into?

[concretejunglefm]

I'm not ready to let you forget me (part 1).

*edit credit goes to the lovely @defuckingthrone-dot-com

You told your friends you want me dead And said that I did everythin' wrong And you're not wrong

An anon request for lovers to enemies 

Summary: It’s been two years since Noah cheated on you, abruptly ending your relationship. However, the universe seems to have a peculiar sense of humor in its plan to reunite you.

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader.

CW: none really. Mentions of cheating, Noah can be an overall asshole and a tad bit of angst.

WC: 3.2k.

Dividers: Silent-stories.

Had Noah cheated, you believe that you could've handled everything a lot better, but somehow what he did had been worse.

It wasn't cheating, even if you couldn't ignore the pit in your stomach when you thought about him and her together.

Noah's ex had joined the last leg of his tour as an opening act, and while under any other circumstances it wouldn't have bothered you, his nonchalant attitude about it did. 

This had been a man who spent time after time cursing her out to you, pushing aside any doubts or worries you had felt when it came to her, and now he didn't care if she was joining him in the most important aspect of his life.

Even worse was how he’d knocked back your own suggestion of joining him.

"It's only for a few days. I'll get to watch you play, and we can see it as a vacation." "You can see it as that. For me, it's work, babe. You know that, and you know how important it is to me." "I know I just thought." "Well, don't. Not this time. Maybe next time."

You did your best to brush off the hurt at the time, and now again as the memory resurfaces.

Noah didn't cheat, but what he did was close enough to make you feel heartbroken and forgotten about.

Messages and calls came less and less during this leg, and now you were sitting up early Saturday morning going through the posts on your Twitter feed like a fool, allowing yourself to be more hurt with each one that you came across.

@badoxmens: Did you see Noah and his ex on stage last night?

@ieatconcreeete: I hope this means they're finally getting back together !!

@artitficalsuicide: If I were his girlfriend, I would hate myself right now.

@deduckingthrone: Noah has a girlfriend? Are you sure? Him and his ex looked pretty cozy if he does.

The videos and pictures which accompanied the tweets did nothing to ease the rising bile in your throat, and every attempt to reach Noah was left unanswered.

Noah ignored every single text and call you made to him, not bothering to even make it obvious that he was ignoring you, the delivered and read notifications driving you mad until you had to stop yourself altogether.

Instead of breaking up with you, he ghosted you, your only proof of this coming a week later when another set of videos and photos showed up on your feed of him attending the album launch party of his ex.

There was no ignoring the closeness between them, the way he lingered by her in the one video, the way they were caught slipping off together and hovering a little too closely in another.

You almost went to write out a long-winded text, one full of all your feelings for everything that had transpired over the past week, but instead settled for a simple 'fuck you'. Even going as far as to block and delete his number to not allow for any temptation in reaching out to him.

You deserved better than this, that whatever had transpired for Noah to play with your feelings in this manner and you decided then that you'd do whatever it took to move on.

"What you need is a girls’ trip." The suggestion from your best friend came as no surprise, Sloan would always choose a spa day or a girls’ trip whenever she felt a need to unwind, which was practically every week according to her.

"Huh?" You snap back from your own thoughts, mindlessly stirring a spoon in your latte.

"Babe, please tell me that you are not still hung up on that guy." You hear both the pity and disdain in her tone.

To Sloan boys were nothing more than toys to be played with, to be thrown down and picked back up whenever she wanted. That was her trick to not being hurt.

"It's been two years."

"I know." You don't even need to give her a real answer for her to know, but it still doesn't stop your mind from wandering and from the pang in your chest each time you think about him.

“Girls’ trip, this weekend and I'm not taking no for an answer."

You wish that she had taken no for an answer.

A girl’s trip sounded delightful until she suggested Vegas and you were squeezing yourself onto a last-minute flight there. You wouldn't have minded had it not been for the fact that your seats were apart from one another and you had been given a middle seat, which meant you were now stuck in between two strangers.

Moving along the aisle towards your seat, you slide your weekend bag from your shoulder and toss it into the overhead bin. Looking down at your ticket, you confirm the seat number and tuck a piece of hair behind your ear as you tap on the shoulder of the man sitting on the end seat, covered up with a black hoodie.

"Excuse me. I'm 33B." You gesture to the empty space beside him, and the minute you catch a familiar pair of brown eyes gaze back at you, you feel your heart plummet into your stomach and bile rising up your throat.

Noah.

You're ready to make a dash towards the back of the plane, either to throw up in the bathroom or attempt to throw yourself out of the emergency exit.

"Sor—."

He cuts himself off on the sight of you, and you huff as he moves himself and allows for you to squeeze past.

When you fall into the middle seat, you find Jolly sitting on the other side of you and realize that they must be on their way to a show. 

In Vegas? 

You almost turn and ask him but decide not to. You spent the last two years ignoring his and his band's existence; you can do that for another hour on this flight.

When you dare a glance in Jolly's direction, he's already sliding his headphones on and looking out of the window, completely disengaging himself. You're almost jealous. You'd do anything to disappear from this moment's event, even exchange seats with the Swede so as not to be sat next to Noah.

As the flight pulls out to taxi, you feel Noah's leg bouncing against your own. You know it's his nerves. He's always been a nervous flyer, and it makes you wonder why he's choosing to fly instead of driving to Vegas.

You mentally smack yourself because it's not your place to wonder these things or even care about them anymore.

"Will you stop that?" You finally voice your annoyance as the plane begins its descent down the runway.

"You know I'm a nervous flyer!" He retorts, and yes, you do know, but he's not supposed to highlight that fact.

“Yeah, but it's annoying." You snipe beneath your breath.

"I can't help it!"

You sound like a couple of squabbling kids, and you hit your knee against his as if to prove a point for him to stop, but he only bounces his leg harder.

It's as if he's purposely trying to piss you off, and unfortunately for you, it's working.

"Just—" You reach over and press your hand down on his thigh, forcing his leg still. "There. Stop."

He does stop, but then you feel his larger tattooed hand atop yours, and his fingers slip beneath and around your own as if choosing to accept this as you giving him some form of comfort.

You're not, but you can hardly pull your hand away as the plane begins to take off and you feel his fingers tightening around yours, signifying his general fear and discomfort over flying.

That is until you're hit with the reminder that this guy ghosted you, and you owe him nothing.

You snatch your hand back, glaring at him as he looks down at you.

"What was that for?"

“Oh, please, you're a big boy. Hold your own damn hand if you're that scared." You don't hold back on the mockery in your tone, crossing your arms over your chest.

"I was always there for you, and this is how you repay me?"

“Oh, please, you were there for your own ego."

You feel Noah lean in closer to you and you edge yourself away as best as you can without causing too much disruption to Jolly tucked in the window seat.

"You could at least try to make this work."

You hear him whisper, and your mouth drops open due to the utter audacity this man has to even suggest such a thing.

"Why would I do that when you did such a great job proving you're not worth the effort?" You snipe back, keeping your voice low.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're really choosing now to play dumb? God, you really are all muscle and no brains now, aren't you?"

You couldn't ignore the fact that over the past two years he had buffed out even more than you can remember.

Noah had always been physically fit during the time you were together, with muscles coming in, but there was something more toned and larger about him now. 

It was a noticeable enough sight that could have any girl drooling over him.

But not you. 

You refused to engage with the thought.

"So what you're saying is you think I look hot?"

You don't need to look at him to see it; you can hear the smirk in his voice, and it makes you shake with anger at how unfazed he appears by all of this. 

You can't resist jabbing your elbow into his side, resulting in him letting out a whine which draws the attention of passengers around you to look over.

"What was that for?" Noah grumbles, bringing a hand to his side as he rubs the spot you’d caught. 

"Because you're a dumbass." You spit out between gritted teeth.

"Excuse me, is there a problem here?" You haven't even noticed the seatbelt signs turn off, and when you look up, you spot a young air hostess peering in at you both. The moment her eyes catch sight of Noah, you spot that sudden flash of recognition in her own.

"Here we go," You mumble under your breath, rolling your own eyes as you direct your head forward and press back against the headrest. 

You wait to hear it, his charm that he always uses whenever there's a fan who recognizes him in a place he doesn't want to be noticed.

He's suave with it, and it always made you swoon in the beginning because you believed that he was merely trying to seek out his privacy for you both, but now you realize it was just one of his many tactics for keeping up some reputation he felt the need to uphold.

"Well, well... It looks like someone has good taste in music. You just made my day… but if you don't mind keeping it between us?"

You scoff and press your lips together when feeling the heat of a stare on you, but the air hostesses' quiet giggling is enough to prove that his little charm worked.

Shaking your head, you roll your eyes. "Real smooth." You remark once she leaves down the plane aisle to attend to another passenger.

"It worked on you, didn't it?"

"Don't flatter yourself. That was after five drinks, and I'd been eyeing up Folio all night."

"Oh—"

"Will you both quit it before I bang your heads together!" Jolly cuts Noah off, interrupting your squabbling.

"She started it." Noah argues, and your head turns back to him as you shoot him a glare. 

If looks could kill, you'd have done it multiple times by now.

The rest of the flight wasn't any easier, between playing elbow hockey with Noah over the armrest and more snide remarks, you were thankful the moment the plane came into land, unbuckling your belt and attempting to move the moment the seatbelt sign turned off.

"The plane hasn't even come to a stop." Noah points out as you attempt to stand, ushering him to move out of your way.

"I don't care, just move." You huff and glare down at him as he remains still, his tattooed hands sitting and tapping on his thighs, barely giving you a brief glance.

"Not even a please? You're so rude."

You know that you shouldn’t, but you begin to attempt climbing over him, holding onto the seat in front as you try to drag yourself past him and over his lap, muttering as you go. "And you are absolutely incorrigible."

"Wow, that's a new one. Is it your word of the day?"

You glance behind him and see him attempting to push back into his seat more, as if that's helping you in any way, and when you see his hand raise, you instinctively swat at it with the assumption he's going to touch you. 

"Ow?! There was no need for that."

Finally free from your row, you huff and pull yourself together, reaching for the overhead bin and pulling out your bag. 

“Well, this was fun. I really hope we never have to do it again." You glare at him and begin making your way down the aisle with the rest of the passengers towards the exit door.

You've never been happier to see the back of a plane in your life, moving as fast as your legs will let you through the crowd of people, almost missing the sound of Sloan's voice as she calls after you.

"Wait up, speedy!" She laughs as she finally catches up, and you come to a slow down, shaking your head free of all the thoughts which had been swirling around in there due to the unexpected reunion you just briefly had with your ex.

"Sorry. I just had to get out of there."

"That wasn't who I think it was, was it?" You spare a glance over at Sloan, and your irritated expression gives that answer away. "It was? What was he doing on a plane to Vegas?"

"I can't say I really cared to ask him, Sloan." Your tone has a bite still left over from the sniping that you and Noah had done. "Sorry, he just really gets under my skin."

"I can see that."

"The sooner we're at the hotel, the better. Then I can wash this whole thing off me, and we can finally start enjoying our girls' weekend."

"Yes! Girls’ weekend. No talk about stupid boys." Sloan slips her arm around yours, linking you together as she lets out an excited 'woohoo'. It makes you laugh, and you finally feel the tension that being sat next to Noah for the last hour had caused, slipping away.

It's a feeling which is short-lived, however.

After making your way through the airport and standard checks, you reach the taxi rank outside, and as you open the door, you turn back to call for Sloan, only to be met with the 6'3 asshole who's covered in tattoos.

“Oh, thanks, you shouldn't have." He flashes you a grin as he slides into your taxi, followed by Jolly, who offers you a brief apologetic look. Maybe you should've been giving him a harder time if he was enabling this stupid behavior.

You stand speechless as they pull the door close, tossing daggers at the cab as it drives away and a scream rumbles in your throat. 

"Where's the taxi?" Sloan asks as she chooses now to join you. You grumble something incoherent under your breath as you turn to wave down the next incoming taxi.

She's now joining Noah and Jolly on your shit list.

"It's going to be perfect! There's a spa, three pool areas. One of them is an infinity pool off the balcony upstairs." Sloan continues to drone on about the hotel and everything it includes. You only have a weekend here, but she's already planning multiple ways for you to take advantage of everything.

Currently, your mind is back on Noah and his stupid, smug ass face as he stole your taxi. You try to distract yourself from it, shaking him from your thoughts and coming back into the present, to this weekend.

Seeing him was a blip, but you refused to allow him to derail your plans or excitement.

Counting the room numbers down the hallway, you look up as you come closer to yours, room number: 308. 

Sloan has the room opposite you, disappearing inside after making plans to knock on after shower and changing. A shower sounds perfect right about now, not only to wash off the plane smell but also with being in such proximity to Noah in general.

As you fiddle with the room key, you hear a familiar voice, which causes your back to raise. Turning your head, you peer down the hallway, watching a group of familiar faces grow nearer to you. Noah is the one trailing behind, while Folio and Matt's voices are the ones you hear echoing down the hall.

You hastily attempt to open your hotel room door, being met with the red light before trying again.

You huff and close your eyes to calm yourself from growing irrationally angry.

Hearing the voices past you, you open your eyes and look back to find Noah standing at the door next to yours, room number: 310.

"Hey, neighbor." Noah flashes you a grin, and you shake your head in protest.

"No."

"No?" He repeats back at you in a question, his brows knitting together. "What do you mean no?"

"I mean no, we are not neighbors, and you cannot be here. Not in this room, not in this hotel. Hell, not even in this state." You're being irrational, but you never did quite have much rationality when it came to him. You always found yourself diving in headfirst to whatever thought crossed your mind.

"And who said this? You?" Noah raises a brow at you, taking a step closer as he leans a hand against the wall.

He easily towers over you, and under any other circumstance before now, that would have you weak at the knees and buckling for him, but right now it has you infuriated that he's somehow here, ruining your weekend and attempting to charm you.

"Yes."

"Still as bossy as ever, I see."

"And you're still an asshole." You snipe back, your eyes narrowing, still attempting to get your keycard in your door and slip away from this conversation.

"Ouch, that hurt." Noah raises his free hand, bringing it to his chest, feigning a tone of disbelief and hurt while you roll your eyes in response.

“Oh, please, that would insinuate you had any feelings to begin with."

"I have a lot of feelings, actually. Such as feeling sorry for you while watching you struggle with something so easy. Here, let me."

Before you have a chance to protest, he's reaching out to take your hotel room key and slips it into the swipe, drawing it out to a flashing green light.

You huff as you open the door, pushing forward, and the last thing you hear before the door slams is another final snarky remark from him; "Not even a thank you?"

Once in the safety of your room, you let out a loud scream of frustration, only to hear Noah's chuckle from the other side of the door, and you gently bang the back of your head against the door as you lean back on it.

Great, now you really can't escape him this weekend.

[pali-and-proud]

Finale Thoughts

This is a very special thank you to all the Fast Passers. Y'all did amazing, truly, because I actively read anything and everything without any attempt to shield my eyes from spoilers and I still knew nothing. This post is dedicated to you guys.

Alright guys. You know the drill. Get the hot coco and strap in.

Lets start with Deacon:

Deacon acknowledging that Chase is more likely to interact well with Buddy is actually so good to see. It's so nice to see Deacon prioritize Prunella's safety and to be more comfortable with being put in "lesser" positions, like babysitting! (Think back to sick! Chase, and look at how far Deacon's grown)

Deacon and Prunella's talk: Prunella calling out Deacon for always talking about being great instead of just being great. That's so good, genuinely--Prunella shrugging and being self-confident and Deacon finally really hearing it. He needs to just be what he wants.

Deacon's relationship with horses symbolizing his frustrations with his inability to control his life was NOT something I expected and I openly applauded. That's brilliant.

Don't be mistaken: Deacon sacrificed himself. He knew the risks of making the horse play bridge. He watched the horse fall victim to the spread of the pages. The horse was still neighing when it's legs started to turn--Deacon could have yelled, but he didn't, because he was too focused trying to make sure that Chase and Prunella, at least, could escape.

The speech Buddy gave him, which I will reference so many times, about there being a time to be the hero and a time to be the helper, is SO applicable. Deacon "is happy to help." He isn't trying to be the hero, and he isn't trying for glory, and he just wants his cousin and his friend-ish to be safe. And it's specifically when he's not trying to be the hero that he ends up being the hero, by taking control of the reigns and getting Prunella to Chase and risking his life. He follows Bronze and Prunella's advice, and listens to the speech, and listens to himself: He stops asking for permission. He steps up. He becomes the hero.

Cannot wait to see Deacon's reaction when Chase undoubtedly tells him how they escaped. I can't decide if Chase is immediately going to say "Buddy and I kissed" or if he's going to say "I figured out an escape and stop asking questions" but no matter what, Deacon's going to be squinting at his cousin and groaning.

ALSO can't wait to see how this arc impacts his relationship with his parents. Like I'm so excited. A Deacon that's more confident being able to step forward and say "No, I don't want to devote my life to something I'll actively hate. That's ridiculous." might be the end of me ngl, I love him.

Prunella!

Prunella my love

Prunella my LOVE

She has this confidence that we only see falter twice: when she struggles with the other kids, and right now. And in both situations, she didn't know what to do, and she was in over her head, and she reminded us that she's just a KID

Her arc has been the exact opposite of Deacon's, and it's so cool to watch them both experience opposite lessons in the same arc. Deacon learning how to step forward and lead while Prunella learns how to step back and follow.

Prunella hearing, constantly, about how dangerous the books are and finally SEEING the books as dangerous. Prunella finally understanding why Deacon was so strict about the books she could travel in, because most of their worst-case scenarios came true in a single swoop.

Prunella also has not met Buddy yet. She saw him, described him as the mean guy, and then perished. Truly an icon.

I am so convinced that Prunella and Buddy would be friends. Even if it starts rocky, I think they both enjoy humbling the Hollow boys too much to not grow to like the other's presence. I can't believe I have to wait for season 2 to get confirmation of this but I am going to be so smug when I am correct

Chase:

CHASE

CHASE EVERETT HOLLOW i have never in my life ever loved a character like I love Chase. I talk so much about Buddy but that is me being a wing-woman, Chase my love Chase, I love him so much

Fun fact I didn't even like Buddy until the first Cinderella story. I was so convinced I wouldn't like him, but I resigned myself to cheering for Stargoth anyway (I was part of the Canvas/Discover Squad, i had a LOT of hiss hiss Buddy) solely because if Buddy made Chase happy then sure I'll accept it, and now i adore Buddy, Punko is just that good

Every single moment of Chase in this arc stole my attention. every single panel. God I could do a dive longer and deeper than my Buddy analysis but exclusively on Chase during the finale arc. i could do it exclusively on Chase during the finale. I could do it on any singular panel.

Chase being guilty about lying to Buddy alone was heart-wrenching, but Chase literally only got more and more heartbreaking. Him constantly trying to help everyone--the keys, for example, with a resort for them to enjoy--only for things to go wrong--the resort, for example, drowning the book. He just wants to HELP

Buddy was 100% correct in calling out Chase for pinning the blame on Deacon, but what he didn't realize is Chase wasn't trying to do that. Chase truly felt terrible, and he truly wanted to apologize, and him bringing up Deacon was him being honest and factual because he did argue with Deacon about it, but he did end up listening to Deacon. And Buddy gets more frustrated because Chase is misunderstanding the problem--it isn't Chase hiding Prunella, it's Chase refusing to trust Buddy

And when you think about it. Chase absolutely has no reason to. Chase doesn't even know his name WHICH I WILL TALK ABOUT LATER bc kdjfherigh but! In Chase's eyes, yeah why would he. He's literally desperate to have Buddy prove that hes legit and good and kind and Buddy keeps shoving that away (Buddy saving Deacon's life and then pointedly not mentioning that, for example).

It's also the fact that Chase is trying so hard to stay optimistic despite such extreme levels of guilt. It's the fact that he stays clutching to that persona of optimism even after seeing paper! Deacon and Prunella, and it's only when he's staring at a bleeding Buddy that the full situation sinks in

Chase finally breaking. Oh my God you dont know how long I was waiting to see Chase splinter apart. This is a kid trying to do the impossible, and every single time something goes wrong, he feels like it's his fault. The book got destroyed? Buddy got betrayed? Admitting that he doesn't trust Buddy? Getting way less narratonin than Deacon or Prunella? He blames himself for all of it, first and foremost, and it's finally on full display

Chase even trying to send Buddy away? Pushing and pushing because he is so desperate to save someone, anyone, even though that's literally a death sentence for him. And he doesn't hesitate, either--it's practically instinct, even though Chase would never agree to leave if the roles had been reversed.

And like...augh Buddy hugging Chase, and Chase hugging him back? That was painful enough, but you add in Chase admitting that he doesn't want Buddy to leave?

This is not the post for me to point at Chase and accuse him of abandonment issues, but know that I am pointing at Chase and I am accusing him of abandonment issues. I am looking at him feeling hurt that Deacon left him in the Toffee arc, I am looking at him constantly repeating that he's not going anywhere, I am looking at him running to apologize to Buddy after spending so much time bitter about Buddy avoiding him, I am looking at his avoidance of talking about his mom in situations where "My mom is dying and this is important to me" would be really helpful, and I am thinking accusations

But anyway

Chase and his abandonment issues: literally all he wants is for someone to stay, safely and securely. His mom, Deacon, Silver, Buddy, even his dance partner. He's always at risk of losing someone, and he's about to lose everything, and all he can do is admit that he just wants Buddy to stay, because he's scared

Chase you are my sun you are my stars you are my whole solar system I will give you the world

Also, I absolutely knew the repeated comments about Chase being an idiot would get to him. Chase is SMART, guys. He's perceptive. He knows when he messes up, and he tries to look past the mistake and into how to rectify it, but that doesn't mean he isn't aware that he did something wrong. And people (Buddy) kept snapping that he was stupid, or an idiot, or ridiculous, bc Chase would make a mistake (or stick by a decision), and he would NOTICE that people thought it was ridiculous. He just didn't care, because he was either sticking with it, or trying to fix it.

And he DOES. He notices the words in the sky, realizes the solution, figures out the entire thread behind the stories (they want to be enjoyable and they want to have a good ending), and explains it all to Buddy. Chase figured it out, because he's so much smarter than everyone assumes.

Anyway Buddy hugging Chase and telling him he can stay a while longer (this is a scene burned into my heart) (more on that later) and telling him he's not stupid and that he's trying his best is SO important. This might be the first time in the entire story that someone finally sees Chase. Someone finally prioritizing Chase and putting Chase's wellbeing first and telling Chase yeah sure maybe you messed up but you're doing the impossible every single day and you're TRYING.

And for it to be Buddy? Like ignore the romance entirely--if someone who always insults you and is notoriously difficult to please tells you "No, you're not stupid. You're trying your best" while hugging you? thats the most sincere thing in the world. that's tears immediately.

Chase suggesting kissing is also askdjns because (again, ignore the romance part of it)--he always skips the kissing scenes. We know thats because he wanted to save his first kiss, and he's the one who offered. Yeah, okay, sure, it was life or death, but Chase didn't hesitate, and didn't weigh his options, and didn't even consider saying "a kiss on the forehead would probably suffice." guy went straight for "i need the mouth to mouth"

the grin. The bright eyes. the pressing fingers to his lips. He's so happy, so genuinely happy.

I truly, truly, TRULY cannot wait to see what this means for our idiots. I can't wait for someone to try to have a conversation and for someone else to not want a conversation, or for them to be so awkward with each other, or for Deacon to want to skin them both, or for WHATEVER turn this takes. And im SO happy for Chase.

Buddy:

I wrote this whole thing and it just deleted. i am furious

NOX

NOX I LOVE THAT NAME NOX NOX NOX

Punko i cant believe you were worried we wouldnt like it. nox nox nox nox nox i love that

okay first: the two theories for key Nox, as they are rn, are 1) that Nox has always been the villain key, or 2) that Nox was tricked/manipulated/experimented into becoming the villain key.

1) If he'd always been the villain key, it makes sense why he never told Chase his name. Chase would have immediately told Silver and company, who would have had to stare at Chase and ask them if he had a crush on their brother

1) if he'd always been the villain key, his distrust of Chase could be explained by him distrusting all humans. This would follow course with him also being frustrated by Deacon, which yes was partly because of jealousy but also partly because Deacon was a new key holder.

1) ALSO of course he was a nightmare about Chase with the key--he had no reason to believe Chase would treat the keys well. it's also possible that he knew Silver had a crack, and thats why he helped Chase in the first cinderella book--so that Chase could meet Silver.

2) if he BECAME the villain key, it makes sense why he never asked Chase details about his key. Why he never asked about Silver or Bronze, or if they were okay, or how they were settling, despite routinely trying to get details about other factors of Chase's life. He assumes Chase is selfish, true, but he doesn't ever accuse Chase of being cruel with them.

2) if he BECAME the villain key, the line of "Don't you want to be human again" holds a lot of power. Yes, it's possible that the keys were once people and Nox wants to go back to that, but its been CENTURIES.

2) if he was always the villain key, the line of "Don't you want to be human again" would be applicable to all the keys, bc it would assume they were all human once (obligatory Keys are People Too mention, it's an amazing ao3 fic by incomple shoo go read it). Silver, Bronze, AND Goldie never mentioned that, and Punko likely would have foreshadowed it earlier.

2) if he BECAME the villain key, it makes sense why he wasn't included in the dream Silver had! Where she dreamt about her family!

2) if he BECAME the villain key, his constant reference of Silver as "the key" or as "it" also makes sense. Earlier, like episode three or so, he mentions needing to get Silver back before the old man returns. It's Silver specifically, without mentioning trying to track down anyone else.

2) if he BECAME the villain key, his name being objectively different from the other keys makes sense. Silver, Bronze, and Goldie were all named after the metal they were made from! Violet is purple! Yes, Nox means night, and yes, Nox has a moon on his back, but if Goldie isn't called Sunny, then I would argue Nox's name should count as way more subtle than everyone else's.

anyway theres a lot of points on either aspect

I could do into the character growth of Buddy, but I'm actually going to focus on the hug. Not the kiss, even though it's nice to see the fixation on Chase's hair stays strong, but Buddy immediately recognizing a hug is needed and immediately giving him one.

Buddy love language is touch, or something

Chase says "I think we need to kiss" and there's not a single arguement from Nox's lips. He literally stares at the sky, turns slowly, and goes "Not a problem"

actually the whole "I've never been the hero. Not even in my own story" goes so strong when you remember the speech he gave Deacon about needing to act as the hero, the helper, and whatever other role when need be. Nox was given the chance to be the hero, and he took it. "I'd like to be your hero" isn't just a romantic one-liner to preface a kiss--it's Nox genuinely saying that he wants the happy ending that Chase always skips. And Chase, this time, doesn't skip it.

Nox, returning back to his space with Violet, immediately says he doesn't think he can keep doing this. But he wants to be a human, more than ever, which implies that "keep doing this" isn't just travelling into the stories, but doing something additional. Something that, we can infer, is hurting Chase.

i am wrapping this up its snowing outside and i cant feel my fingers, how do you snow people do this

if you read all of this! grab a treat <3 hope you enjoyed and love you all

[sdmnpact]

Late Night Antics

wroetoshaw x reader fluff, suggestive

~~~

You were laying in your boyfriend's bed scrolling through your Instagram feed. Nothing new, nothing entertaining. It was quite late already and you were waiting for Harry to finish playing Among us with the boys. You always loved watching him play because he was always got so passionate about it. You loved listening to his cute laugh whenever they caught someone in the act or even his frustration when he gets voted out for no reason. You were bored right now though because he was the first to die so this whole time was just him as a ghost.

"Alright boys, I'll talk to you tomorrow." He said as he left the call, taking out his earphones. "All done baby?" You asked as he stood up to stretch. You watched as he stretched his arms flexing his muscles and you couldn't help but stare at them.

"What." He smiled giving a breathy little laugh. "Nothing just admiring your beauty." You giggled. He walked over to the bed and tackled you lightly wrapping his arms around you. He began kissing your face all over making you laugh. You cupped his cheeks making him stop and took in his features. His soft clear eyes staring into yours, his messy blonde hair falling slightly over his forehead. You loved this man so much and you knew he deeply loved you. It was a sweet moment, the warmth of being in each others company. Just you two and no one else.

"Are you tired yet?" He asked as he began standing up. You felt sadden by the loss of his warmth.

"Not really, why?"

"Me neither, maybe we can do something like watch netflix?"

"Nah I don't wanna watch anything... how about we bake?"

"Bake? It's 2:23!" Harry shriek. You gave him your famous puppy dog eyes that you know he can't resist.

"Okay fine." He gave in going back to the bed to hug you.

~~~

You two made your way towards the kitchen in Harry's flat. It was small but big enough for two people. You aren't the best baker but you do enjoy it from time to time. You had previously bought supplies and ingredients so they could stay in his flat on the whim that you decided to bake something. Sometimes it's almost like you live with him. You two have been dating for about three years now so you're very comfortable with each other, spending most of your days at either your place or his.

You took out all the ingredients to make homemade cookies. You didn't know how to make many recipes but you knew how to make your favorite cookies. Everyone always raved about them and you know Harry absolutely loves them. He doesn't really enjoy cooking but he loves spending time with you, so much so that he even bought matching aprons for when you decide to spontaneously bake something like tonight. You watched as he took the aprons from the rack, walking over to you and putting it around your neck. You looked up at him with a goofy little smile on his face as he went around you to tie the apron. Not too tight but just enough for it to fit snuggly on your waist.

He put his on, tying it on his own. You put your hair up in a pony tail and Harry took this opportunity to wrap his arms around your waist. You put your hands on his as he squeezed you from behind. "You know I adore you, right?" he said in a deep voice giving you goosebumps at the vibration running though your body.

You turned around to face him wrapping your arms around his neck giving him a soft kiss. "I know." you said kissing his lips again. He wanted to continue but you pulled away leaving a small frown on his face.

"First we bake!" You said excitedly going over to the sink to wash your hands. He came over and began washing his as well giving you a little hip bump. You scoff in playful annoyance as you bumped him back harder causing him to stumble back a bit. He looked at you faking a hurt expression splashing some water in your face. You gasped as the semi cold water droplets hit your face. You soaked your hands then placed them on both sides of his face making him wince at the cold touch.

"Okay okay, truce." He let out a breathy laugh. You nodded as you began drying your hands on the hand towel. "Okay so first we mix the wet ingredients and dry ingredients separately." You began listing off directions as he gave all his attention to you, staring at you lovingly.

You two got to work making the dough. Harry managed to drop a couple of eggs, and you two ended up covered in flour, but other than that, things ended up quite successful. Harry watched intensely as you rolled the dough out. You seemed so concentrated in what you were doing that you didn't notice him pull out his phone and snap a few pictures of you.

"Harry stop!!" You whined as you didn't feel your prettiest at the moment.

"Aw don't worry baby, you look adorable, I want to save this memory." He smiled snapping a million more photos. "Okay, well what if I want to remember this moment of you standing there not helping?" You snickered as you began pulling out your phone. He took your phone from you and held both of them, aiming both cameras towards you.

"What now?" He said with a smug look on his face. You frowned but walked over to him kissing his lips then his jaw, leading down to his neck. He let out a soft moan as you left small kisses all over his neck taking this moment to snag your phone back.

"What! That's not fair."

"Life's not fair." You giggled, taking pictures of him. He tried reaching, but you placed your phone in the air as if he wasn't taller than you and was unable to reach it.

"Oh so we're playing that game." He quickly grabbed your waist, making you yelp at the sudden touch and placed you onto the counter. He stood between both of your legs causing you to wrap them around him. With one hand on your waist, he used the other to hold your jaw. He began kissing your neck like you had done to him earlier. His kisses were rougher, more hungry that your soft ones. You let out a moan and he began sucking on your neck causing you to melt at the sense of his warm mouth on your skin.

He hands now exploring your body while your hands made their way towards his hair, tugging on it lightly allowing a soft moan to escape his lips.

Suddenly you pushed him away.

"Not yet." You said once again leaving him with a yearn for more of you and your body.

You placed the now shaped cookies in the oven and waited for them to bake. Harry made his advances as the two of you waited but each time you rejected him causing him to whine while you just laughed.

Finally the ding of the oven and the smell of freshly baked cookies filled the room. You carefully took them out and placed them on the cooling rack. Harry helped you transfer the cookies from the rack to the plate after they cooled down a bit.

You both grabbed a cookie and took a big bite finally being able to indulge in the sweet creation you two were brewing up for the last hour. "Oh my god." Harry said as he took another bite. "They're incredible, all thanks to me." He chuckled as you shot him a glare. "Okay, mostly you but they seriously are amazing." You smiled in content as you watched your boyfriend scarf down two more cookies.

You wrapped your hands around his waist, giving him a peck on his lips, the sweetness of the cookies still lingering.

"Now."

---

A/n

Sorry for the spam of imagines. I used to have a miniminter imagines book and they were so much fun to write. Pls lmk if you have any ideas for one, my chat's always open! And as always I hope you enjoyed!!

[pinkslaystation]

Please we need second part where reader successfully escape and make a run to her parent's alone, your toxic König is too good and amazing well written 😭😭💖

toxic! König x Reader - [King and Prince: My Escape] THANK YOU!! i planned to make a bunch of one-shots under this AU, but this received a lot of love and continuation requests so here it is! I'm also finally finished with exams and coursework, so I'm actually able to breathe a bit now- oh, oh. Never mind, 2nd term starts next week, okay. Trigger warning: Kidnapping, mentions of reader's mental health, poorly translated German (oh how I love you so DeepL.com and ChatGPT) There's also a poem that's mentioned here: "Der Erlkönig" by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, written in 1782. I recommend checking it out, it's a short, yet chilling read!

"Wo ist sie, verdammt?" [where the hell is she?] König mutters to himself, his voice laced with frustration and hurt.

He looks at the now empty ropes with no sign of his wife, huffing at the lack of her presence. In contrast, Leon giggles as he latches onto his father's head whilst sitting on his shoulders.

"Mama's playing a game with us, papa!" He says enthusiastically.

"Was meinst du damit?" [what do you mean?]

Leon hums in mock confusion, "Vielleicht will sie, dass wir sie erwischen." [maybe she wants us to catch her].

It's 9 P.M. and you've running in the middle of a field in nothing but an over-sized sweatshirt and joggers. Of course that fucker decided to tie you up in a basement in the middle of fucking nowhere. In fact, you don't even recall him ever owning that property, something similar to an abandoned farmhouse. But I guess the only animal getting played here...would be you.

You're questioning all the other things he might have hidden from you...other properties...maybe other women...and what's the deal with your son?

"Leon honey, listen. Mama's going to get out of here, and after that we're going to go somewhere safe, okay? We'll go to your grandparents, I'll take you home, okay?" You sweat out, exhausted after numerous times of pulling at the ropes.

"But I'm already home." Leon smiles eerily. There's something broken in that kid, you think. The way he smiles with no emotion makes you fear for your life.

You try to caress the top of his head but the ropes dig at the possibly infected gashes on your wrists, making you hiss in response.

"Mama, you're bleeding." He state inquisitively, grabbing your wrists to examine them.

Groaning at the new contact, you curse out, "FUCK. Leon, stop. Just get me out of this, please sweetie-"

You breath hitches at his expression.

A deep toothy grin is plastered on his face.

"Red's always been mine and papa's favourite colour."

When you're eye catches his red beaded bracelet, the one mirrors König's, a part of you had to come to terms with losing both your husband and your son.

"Stupid kid, should have had a daughter..." You whisper to no one in particular, stretching over thorny bushes and rocks.

You can't tell how long it's been in that room, could be days, could be weeks, but the moment you left the house, it felt like taking a breathe of fresh air for the very first time.

"König, pleas-"

"Schnuki, quiet please, I'm trying to read Leon a poem." König scolds you, whilst sitting on the floor against the wall with Leon resting on his chest. For some reason, they both like to spend time with you.

By spending time with you, that means going about their day, in your presence...just, without paying any attention to you.

"König, I need to fucking piss again."

"Es war eine kalte, dunkle Nacht, und ein Vater ritt mit seinem kleinen Sohn durch einen nebligen Wald." He reads, completely shutting your needs out. [it was a cold, dark night, and a father was riding with his little son through a foggy forest.]

"Kö..." You drag out the syllables to see whether that would make a difference to his reactions. It doesn't.

"Der Junge klammerte sich ängstlich an seinen Vater und flüsterte-" [The boy clung fearfully to his father and whispered-]

Leon speaks out now, clutching his father's shirt as he sleepily recites from the book, "Papa, siehst du ihn nicht? Dort, zwischen den Bäumen! Der Erlkönig ruft nach mir!“ ["Papa, don’t you see him? There, between the trees! The Erlking is calling me!"]

The two giggle at their reenactment.

As they continue their story, the loudly spoken story begins to anger you, for days you've been practically caged in the room, forced to listen to such mundane tasks. Reading a story before bedtime (but they happen to sleep upstairs with actual beds, leaving you to practically rot downstairs), or when König decides to blast his tunes whilst working out, or even when Leon simply chooses to study right in of your shivering body in the afternoon.

"DOES ANYONE HERE HAVE FUNCTIONING EARS?" You scream.

In a instant, König flashes his eyes on you as Leon flinches at the tone of your stern voice.

There's a moment of silence, a quiet battle between you and König, who seems to want to rip your vocal cords and shove them into a book to read about to his son.

"Was haben Sie gerade gesagt?" [what did you just say?] He murmurs with his eyebrows furrowed.

When you don't respond, your son decides to speak up for you.

He turns his head around to berate you, "Sprich dich aus." [speak up]

Your gaze turns to the floor as you watch droplet after droplet hit the surface, "...why."

There's no response. Perhaps, they didn't hear you or perhaps they simply don't know.

"Why are you doing this to me. All I wanted was a husband and a son that respected me. What the fuck did I do to deserve such a shitty family?!"

Before you know it, you begin wailing at the end of your outburst, tears rapidly streaming down your aching cheeks. You look up at the pair, hoping to feign any sense of remorse or sympathy.

But you're met with none.

"Maybe if you hadn't broken this family, you could have got what you wanted."

You're not too sure who spoke, at that point it seems like both father and son began to share a twisted mind.

A large vehicle drives by you and you let out a sigh, maybe there is an escape for you after all.

"Wait! Wait for me!"

The look of pity the driver gives you as you ask them for a lift wasn't as bad as the ones your own family have been giving you for the past few days, so you don't complain. Instead you give a vague description of your parent's house, your childhood home.

With a deep breathe, you make your way to safety, and for a second, you allow sleep to evade you that night. A sleep so deep, you don't hear the quiet ring of a phone...

"Hallo König. Ja, sie ist bei mir. Du hattest recht. Ja, sei einfach da, ich bringe sie in 20 Minuten vorbei." [hello konig. yes, she's with me. you were correct. yes just be there, i'll drop her off in 20 minutes.]

"Miss, we're here. Miss-" The voice urges you to wake up, poking your shoulder as if you were roadkill.

With a groan you awaken, at the sight of your parents house, safety as last.

You thank the driver for troubling him, and for getting blood on his seats, "I'm sorry I don't have anything to repay you with...if you give me a minute, I can run in and get you some cash?" You ask, apologetically.

The stranger shakes his head, "No need, payments been taken care of already."

Oh. Okay, cool.

You squint your eyes in confusion, but choose to brush it off, it's been days since you've engaged in human interaction, maybe you just forgot the small quirky things a person can say.

"...okay, thanks again."

"Bis ich dich wiedersehe." [until i see you again.]

You stop midstep, looking back at the stranger, but he's already hit the pedals and driven off without a trace. That was German, right? See you again?

It seems like a coincidence, and you want to brush it off, but the way he spoke mimicked König's dialect a little too well....Many people speak German though...

You reach the door of your parent's house, admiring yourself in the reflection of the door. A frail being, dressed in tattered clothing, with blood marks decorating your wrist. Afraid of being bombarded with questions, you pull the sleeves of your sweatshirt down and re-tie your hair into something more acceptable.

The door opens and your met with the relieved look of your poor mother.

"Sweetheart, I'm so glad you're okay!" She pulls you into a bone crushing hug, with her face tucked tightly into your shoulder.

Humming against her, you question her, "I'm okay...wait, how did you know? Where's dad?"

"He's okay sweetheart, he's in the living room. But don't think you're off the hook, now that you've come back." She smiles, kissing your forehead, as she guides you through the house.

You scoff, "What do you mean?"

"Running away is a serious matter, don't take it lightly, sweetheart. How do you think we've all felt? I understand, if you're you know..." She starts.

"...Know what?"

"You know, you've become a little..." She spins her finger around her ear in a circular motion, "I guess...cuckoo! Um...but don't worry, we're already looking into treatments."

You stare at her blankly, stopping her, "Ma. I'm fine. W-what- I'm not crazy, where on Eart-"

Every muscle in your body flinches.

It's like your body hit flight or fight mode but instead decided to switch off. You've never remembered a time where your mind has ever been so silent, but I guess now counts.

Those blue eyes.

2 pairs.

Staring back at you, soullessly.

Not a word is spoken.

And yet both your parents seem to be gleaming at the scene, of what looks like a family reuniting.

Family.

If that's even what this is.

"Why did you run away from us, schatz?" [darling]

You can't distinguish between your husband and your son.

"We've missed you."

thank you for coming to my ted talk.

lemme know you're interested to be tagged in my future posts! tags -> @lilliumrorum , @kxtz3 , @poohkie90 , @rainlovesyou12 , @restrictionsapply-blog , @lunamoonbby , @nigthmar3moon , @thychuvaluswife, @itsnourm , @bubusi11, @chessecakelover , @owkittie, @cheomain , @corvusmorte , @k4es , @mandythemint , @copiasratscheese , @yyiikes , @funkyysho3es

[liselottw]

Alyosha Karamazov x Reader 𐙚⋆.˚

!! dni if you're going to be pissy about a stranger online writing about a real guy involved in a murder trial, HE'S NOT EVEN A SUSPECT and this is set before papa karamazov kicked the bucket. besides a very close friend of the family proofread it and told me it's totally fine !!

When the editor of the newspaper you wrote for commissioned you an article about the life of young novices, you knew exactly where to look. The small village of Skotoprigonyevsk, where you'd spent many summers during your childhood, was known to be just a few miles away from a modest yet respectable monastery, where your old friend Alexei Fyodorovich Karamazov was preparing to become a monk. You had written him a letter asking for his collaboration a few weeks prior, and now a carriage was bringing you up the hill where the sanctuary was. On the way there, however, you were stopped by an elderly man walking the other way.

“Are ya going to pay respect to Zosima, miss?” he asked. Elder Zosima, Alexei had told you, was a holy man as few others had been on that side of the empire. He was a wise and compassionate starets, and if you played your cards right there was a chance you could even interview him.

“What do you mean ‘pay respect’?”

“Ya haven't heard, uh? Father Zosima, peace be with him, died a few days ago. And now the whole town's gone crazy ‘cause his body stinks like hell.”

“How terrible!” you said, crossing yourself.

“Yeah, a real disgrace… Even the monks have gone nuts about the whole thing. Why do you need to go up there?”

“I… planned to visit a friend. A novice.”

“Oh, they're the most baffled now. They're young, their faith is crushed. I hope your friend is fine; and if not, try to cheer him up, miss. He probably needs it.”

The carriage started moving again, but your heart was now heavy. How was Alexei doing? What if he didn't want to do the interview anymore? Or worse, what if you had found him deep in despair?

When you arrived, you noticed the death of the elder had somehow affected the whole monastery. You had been there once or twice as a child, and you remembered it always looked like an ivory palace, with golden towers reflecting the light of God and a sweet hymn that never ceased coming from inside. Now what was pristine seemed dirty, what was shining became opaque, and the whole place was deadly silent.

As if someone had just read your mind, you heard the muffled sound of steps coming your way. You turned around and immediately recognised the cherub-like face of Alexei Karamazov. At first you stood straight and smiled, not knowing how to properly greet him after all those years. When he came closer and gave you a quick hug, you realised he was happy to see you as well but still burdened with grief.

“It's good to see you again, Alexei Fyodorovich. I heard what happened to the elder on the way here. I'm so sorry…”

He inhaled sharply, probably wishing you had talked about anything but that. “Thank you. Please, come inside and I'll show you your room. It's not a lot, but I trust you'll find it comfortable enough.”

“Of course.” You stopped for a second. “Alexei Fyodorovich… I understand this is a delicate situation. If you do not want to be interviewed right now, I understand. I'll come back when you're ready. My timing was terrible.”

“Nonsense. God's timing is always right.” You could tell he did not believe it either.

After unpacking your bags you ran into Alexei again.

“Y/n, about the interview…”

“No pressure at all, Alexei, really.”

“I want to do it tonight.”

“Oh? How come? Forgive me my bluntness, but you didn't seem in the right space of mind just a few hours ago.”

“To be honest, I was not sure I wanted to do it either. But I feel like I need to. Zosima would've wanted me to keep our traditions alive.”

“Of course. Then I'll meet you in your room after supper? Or is it too scandalous?” you tried to joke. Alexei let out a small chuckle.

“It’s alright. My brothers know you are here for a noble reason, and they thank you for having chosen us.”

As promised, he let you in his room after dinner and closed the door behind him. You sat on the bed, he was right in front of you on a stool. He gave you a friendly smile, but the bags under his eyes and his curved shoulders revealed he was tired from the lack of sleep. You felt guilty for taking away his precious hours of rest. Nevertheless, you were there as a journalist, not any ordinary friend. It was about time you started working.

“So, Alexei, our readers in the Capital would love to know more about the ascetic life of young novices. Could you tell us how old you are and when did you receive the call?”

 “I turned nineteen a few months ago, and I decided to enter the monastery at sixteen. It was never really a calling; ever since I was a small child I felt the voice of God inside me, so I am simply acting according to my nature.”

“Did your upbringing influence your faith?”

“... I am not sure. My mother was a very religious woman, but I barely remember her. The icon of Mary and Jesus you see in that corner,” and he pointed at a small wooden block on his table, “is all I have left of her. My father… I never spent much time with him. The servants often looked after me and my brother. When he turned seven we were taken in by a distant relative and moved to Moscow. I'd say that no one really told me how to believe or why. For as long as I remember I've felt the presence of God around me. That is, until a few days ago…”

Alexei bit his lip. He was clearly thinking about Zosima and the panic that came with his rotting body.

"Ever since that night, my faith has wavered like a flag in the storm. I am torn, y/n. How could a man so righteous and kind as elder Zosima not be granted a holy death? God wouldn't have allowed one of his bravest soldiers to go this way. Perhaps it's a test. Satan may think he works against the Almighty, but really, tribulations are where men find themselves most strong in their faith, or completely abandon it. I steadied my heart, thinking I could bear this, but the whispers... the rumors, y/n... they plague my head and poison my thoughts. My very soul is shaken, and I am starting to think... They were right about us too."

"Us?" you carefully asked, wondering if some babushka had gossiped about a possible affair between you two. Unfortunately, they would've been wrong. "What do you mean?"

Alexei looked at you with tearful eyes.

"Us Karamazovs! An inexplicable curse weighs upon our name, but I thought I'd managed to escape it. The monastery, that holy refuge, was supposed to keep me safe from the temptations of this mortal world, yet evil has found a way! Malice and hatred have seeped inside our sacred home, and I now see that it happened long before Zosima's passing. Y/n," he sighed, grasping your hands in his, "I have been blind and foolish all these twenty years of my life, but how painful it is to have the veil of innocence stripped from your eyes by the brutal hands of fate just when you're waiting for a miracle! God has long abandoned this side of the world, if he ever was in it. I find no consolation in prayer, the fits of hunger can't bring me any closer to Him than an opulent banquet would, thirst cannot quench my need for infinity, and my world has lost its balance. I am utterly alone and desperate in this desert, and it is merely the third of forty days of penitence. I see the Great Divider coming my way, with food and shelter from cruel nature — more terrible yet steadier than God’s word. What must I do?”

“Dear Alexei, this is not you speaking,” you stuttered. “You confound hell in Elysium!”

“Not yet, y/n, but that time is near. The real curse of the Karamazovs is not that we are strong in our vices, but that we’re too weak to resist them. My brother Dmitri understood this sooner than I did. My last prayer shall be for him: may he find a way to survive in this world without running from it; as you can see, it’s been no use. I am too far gone…” 

This was not where the interview was supposed to go. The person in front of you had no traces of the kind, sweet Alyoshka you grew up with in his eyes. All you saw was a tired, disillusioned man on the way to perdition. His words were razor blades, cutting through your memories and beliefs. You'd only met his brother Ivan once or twice, many years before, but in that moment Alexei resembled him more than ever.

“Never say that, my sweet,” you whispered, holding his face in your trembling hands. Tears were streaking his cheeks, red from the anger and pain. 

“What must I do?” he dared to ask, his voice breaking in sobs. “No one can understand how I feel, y/n. They didn't know Zosima like I did. They didn't see life as I saw it when I still believed there was a meaning to it.”

“I do understand you, Alexei! Back in Moscow I was eaten alive by doubts, day after day, night after night. Once you question the foundations of your being, there is no turning back.”

“And how do you survive? How do you go on?”

“I silence the voices inside me until all is quiet and I feel nothing at all.”

“I'm afraid I can't do it. Now that I am hollow, the silence is stinging and the void echoes my pain.”

“Then you must bury it and forget it ever was there. You will feel strange all your life without knowing why, but you'll have grown so accustomed to it that you'll start to think it is just the way humans are.”

Now you were crying too and your tears were falling on Alexei's face, mixing with his own like the affluent to a stream of constant sorrow. You were closer to him than you had ever been, physically and spiritually. The beautiful boy you'd admired from afar was now, in your shared agony, a long lost friend, the other half of your tainted soul.

He must've felt the same about you, because he leaned into your touch and placed a hand on yours, still holding his face. He breathed heavily and it felt as if a primordial burden had escaped from his breath, for the better or for the worse.

“Teach me how…” he whispered. “Teach me how to bury the pain.”

You drew him closer and kissed him desperately. You could tell he was as inexperienced as you were, but it didn't matter. Perhaps it was even better like this: there was all the naivety of Adam and Eve before the original sin. You knew what was going to happen next, and it felt right, even though it should've been wrong.

Your hands rose to Alexei's hair, and he whimpered

Ok Google, what is this? No, Google, what is this thing my daughter is creating? My goodness, why are you writing what I'm saying? Lise? Liza! What is this thing on your portable device? No, not Google, this other thing. Don't scream, for the love of God, I just asked a question! I know it is not “nothing”, so you better tell me. Is this about Alexei Fyodorovich? Oh dear, I sure hope you don't mean to send it to him!  Besides, what were he and the interviewer going to do? I need to read this thoroughly. Don't cry, Lise, I just need to take your device for a few minutes! I'm starting to suspect you're keeping things from me… For example, what is this “monk yaoi” folder?

[29daffodils]

bison : resident noob dom extraordinaire

context : there was a discourse going on on twitter (as per usual) about whether bison is actually a dom or not or if it's just a trauma response that he may grow out of and eventually realize that he is not into bdsm. or something.

before i begin anything,

disclaimer : OP has both good and bad experience, so this meta/rant is entirely written based on my own understanding and experience within the BDSM community and with partners.

now, let's begin.

the original tweet that sparked the debate (also i think OP's QT aiming at “self proclaimed bdsm connoisseurs” is snooty and entirely dismisses all their arguments before and after that) (but that's just me)

the tweet with the counter argument?? i guess???

in support of the OG tweet

now that i've laid all that out, i'll begin by saying :

the idea of anyone being a “natural dom” or there being something like “natural dominance” in the context of sexual preferences is inherently harmful and sets people, both the dom and the sub, up for having a bad experience, or worse, being abused.

i know this statement wasn't from OP, but considering how they are on about the “bdsm connoisseurs” flooding their mentions, i think they should have addressed this since it's in support of their tweet. anyway.

now, i agree in part with OP's take :

bison is definitely influenced by his entire life being surrounded by violence. we have a young adult who has mostly no control over his life or how he lives it. he has witnessed violence and now he is in the center of it, and nevermind how good he is at his job, bison has made it clear he doesn't want to kill. bison has also told us that “pain kinda excites me.” so, just because his sexual lifestyle might be a trauma response, it doesn't mean he “isn't really a dom” or that his behaviour is “not rooted in natural dominance”. the idea of “natural dominance” is moreover, in my opinion, based on unrealistic patriarchal ideals and if you squint, this is a not so subtle shade on our young twinky dom as well.

so now let's look at bison as he is introduced to us :

witnesses the murder of his parents, clearly traumatized, get “adopted” by some shady ass woman who puts him back into a system where he is the one now inflicting violence, bison realizes at some unknown point of time that he “wants to be in control” because “pain kinda excites me” and purchases all sorts of bdsm paraphernalia, except he never dates because of his profession, until he meets kant who dupes him into trying out s&m, and bison very much enjoys his first play, fast forward to the falling out and kidnapping of kant and the fighting and make-up, and finally the scene in question that sparked the OG tweet :

in this scene, bison admits that he goes out and does fun things, like bowling, right after a kill, to take his mind off it. clearly, he doesn't like it. we already know this, bison has always insinuated to fadel that he wants an out and it's evident he doesn't hunger for the kind of violence he is made to dole out. but this is the first point we see him actually address this and outright say he deliberately does light-hearted activities to disengage from the aftermath of a kill. we also see him admit to the difficulties of a hitman's lifestyle and this particular piece of dialogue shows that whether he enjoys it or not, he is good at his job and he has made his peace with it. so where does his need for control fit in here?

in previous episodes (#2, tattoo parlour scene), bison admits to wanting control in bed, but he doesn't clearly state whether he is the S or the M. coupled with this omission, his “pain kinda excites me” dialogue makes me think he is both into giving and receiving pleasure from pain.

anyway, coming back to the main point, bison's need for control in bed may very well (and i've been suspecting it for a while) arise from his difficult lifestyle and his lack of say in how he lives, considering he is a hitman and (has to) reports to mother probably everything he does. for a 24yo, that's not the best case scenario. assuming bison was immediately adopted after the murder of his parents, he did not have a lot of (if any at all) time to explore himself or live his life in a way he sees fit. we know he sleeps around (that's his M.O. after all in most missions, i believe) and that's probably the only place where he could excersize any control or take charge. but we also know he hasn't done any s&m play before. so with the introduction of kant and the whole bdsm shebang, we can tell bison is exhilarated to finally be calling the shots and leading in bed in a way he and his partner both find pleasurable. and since he has all the tools and knows his own desires, it's safe to assume wants to be a dom. now whether he is or not, let's see.

we'll address the “natural dominance” debate here.

in the very first interaction with kant (who is older, btw, let's keep that in mind), he immediately tells off kant for being patronizing towards him. if you live anywhere in asia, you'll know it's kinda rude to talk back to older people. so even though they are in an informal setting, and the age rules don't apply here as such, bison doesn't shy away from putting kant in his place.

in the red room, we can see kant take the bed but bison walks away from him and takes the loveseat. in this scene, it is clear kant is used to leading, so he expects bison to listen to what he says. but bison (bless my boy), very easily throws him off by remaining seated and gesturing kant to come to him. kant still tries to keep his ground, but ultimately he makes the most pathetic meow meow begging face and that's when bison finally lets him have it. even after this, we can see kant is used to topping and pulling the strings, but bison once again throws him off by saying, “you are not doing this solo, you know?”

this whole exchange immediately defines their roles in the current setting and imo, is a very subtle foreshadowing for their future interactions.

in the tattoo bed scene, bison is excited beyond measure to be finally introducing and sharing his kink with kant and while initially we could see kant trying to lead this interaction, there are subtle signs/actions from bison that shows how he prepares kant for his submissive role : the slap to the hand on his thigh and kant's little flinch and gasp (one of my fave scenes from first, the micro-expressions were outstanding), the little slaps to his cheek before bison departs, etc.

i could go on and on, but the “natural dominance” that QTOP claims bison doesn't have, is actually out there taking a walk in broad daylight lmao. i think their intent was to say that because bison's dominance doesn't exist irrespective of his trauma but actually goes hand-in-hand with it, it's less valid than say, a dom who doesn't have a violent past and trauma related to it.

the question now here would be how good of a dom he is and whether he lets his trauma define his status as a dom. so far, there have been no signs of bison misusing his power and control over kant during a play (i believe we cannot count the drunk bison whipping kant scene here for obvious reasons). but so far, while bison was sober, he hasn't abused his power over kant during one of their plays. until very recently that is, and outside bed, does bison actually makes use of his power over kant : kidnapping and outrageous demands because he is hurting, but, the moment kant uses his safeword, bison drops everything and pulls away. from my experience, bison is very much a good dom so far, but he is also inexperienced, excited, in love, and under-informed (or that bit may just be the sloppy writing).

the word “natural dominance” suggests to me that QTOP expects bison to be in his dom role all the time, but it's not very often that people adapt their sexual preferences and make it into a lifestyle. doms are caregivers (by this, i mostly mean they lead and guide the sub and provide care/pleasure during and after any scene) in bed and outside of it should it be an exclusively d/s relationship with that kind of lifestyle. we haven't seen bison and kant discuss their dynamics or how they are going to implement it anywhere outside a particular scene. moreover, bison so far hasn't indicated that he wants kant and himself to be exclusively a d/s pair. rather, he is very much a romantic and likes doing all sorts of things that a stereotypical younger twinky bottom male in a gay relationship is supposed to do. even in the swing scene, bison is affectionate with kant the same way he was before learning the truth. the only difference we feel now is because bison finally knows the whole truth and is letting himself freely accept affection that he was holding himself back from when he was suspicious of kant's motives (even after getting together with him). so bison's cutesy actions in this ep are not because he doesn't have the dom bone in his body or because he hungers for affection but gravitates towards domination because of his cycle of violence. he is free and affectionate and it feels different now compared to before is because his entire relationship with kant is no longer sitting on a bed of lies and they have both come clean. this ultimately changes their body language and how they interact with each other. therefore, bison's desire to lead is just as strong as his desire to be cared for (leaning on his boyfriend, being cute, cuddly, etc) and both exist on opposing sides of the same sphere that's bison's life.

therefore, i think it's kind of ridiculous to say his actions/behaviour isn't rooted in “natural dominance”. I'm not even sure what that is supposed to mean except that QTOP either thinks bison is supposed to be some caricature dom who likes leading both in bed and outside it. because that, my friends, is not how most relationships (bdsm and otherwise) work. or that he is a christian grey 2.0 (which, 🤣🥹).

so what i urge most readers/watchers to do here is separate bison's innate ability to inflict violence effectively in his job from his desire to dominate and use pain for pleasure in bed. both are different things and not mutually exclusive.

i think most of us need to give up on whatever 50SoG “taught” us about bdsm and actually look at this whole thing realistically. also, i think from all this info it's clear bison isn't gonna change his dom status anytime soon and for valid reasons. so from what we have seen him do so far, i can safely say he knows what he wants and he will very much keep wanting to play with kant while he calls the shots.

therefore it's important that we see bison's character from a realistic pov instead of whatever christian grey was. yes, he craves control because he doesn't have it in most instances of his life. but also yes, he craves romantic affection from his partner because he is a fool in love. both of these things can co-exist. what we need to remember is that just because someone is a dom doesn't mean they only need to be a sadist or be a top (I'm looking you, vegas).

in the future eps, bison might settle more into his skin and he may (however unlikely) realize he doesn't need to demand as much control (not that he is doing that a whole lot now). but, we still have 4 more episodes left and I don't think we'll be covering that anyway. so, my final verdict is bison is very much a dom, but he is a total “noob dom” (as i fondly like to call him) and will get many things wrong before he gets them right. but kant will be there along the way to learn alongside him, so no worries about that.

anyway, rant is over. cheers.

[sunsetsover]

I don't think people say GMMTV is sabotaging FK; the correct word would be neglecting. GMMTV neglects FK, and it is extremely obvious if you pay attention.

idk what exactly prompted this ask bc i made that post like a week ago and from what i can tell it hasn't really got any notes for the past few days and i haven't even been online so maybe this is just something that had been bothering you? idk but. and i don't mean to be rude when i say this! but i must say i don't like the tone of this. i'll give you the benefit of the doubt and assume it was accidental, but jsyk this came off as very passive aggressive, like im somehow an idiot for not seeing it. and i will tell you that i have definitely seen people accusing gmmtv of sabotaging fkt and thk, which as i said is silly, but yes some do say that! i've seen it with my own two eyes lmao

like literally today i saw someone on twitter saying exactly this bc the gmmtv twt account posted upcoming events for the next week. now mind you! first is LITERALLY on holiday with his family rn, so how (and more importantly why) do they expect him to have events next week? well when someone mentioned that in the replies, their response was just 'well clearly you don't see it the way i do' which ?? what way is that ?? that he's on holiday?? that he can't be in two places at once??? and other people in the replies were like 'well why can't khaotung have solo events!' and it's like ?? idk maybe bc he's at home gaming, hanging out with his sister and playing his instruments ?? maybe it's bc the two of them are CLEARLY on a break and just bc khaotung is still at home doesn't mean he's not RESTING??

and yes i'm mad about that kind of stuff! it comes off as so selfish and spoilt!! and not to make everything about bts but bts have this exact same issue w some fans to the point where armys literally came up w a name for to refer to these kind of fans: mantis (manager+anti). an explanation of what that means from reddit (bc it's better than i could ever explain it): 'Mantis are antis who essentially hide behind “stanning” so much that they themselves feel like they know the group, and their career, better than the group does. These are the fans constantly trying to "protect" them, beyond normal levels. The type to think they are constantly mistreated/tortured by the company and don't get to make any decisions of their own. Also tend to call out other fans "for not being real fans" if they don't join in on the concern.' like literally i read some of stuff some (emphasis on SOME) fkt fans say and it literally is like. i have played these games before!

and listen i'm not gonna pretend i know much of anything abt that company. i'm new here as it is and i really don't pay attention to any other actors or shows or whatever to compare it to so im deffo not the authority in this regard!

but all that said i 1000% get the impression that there are some fans that kinda... infantilise fkt when it comes to their work. like they have no choice or agency and gmmtv are keeping them locked in a basement somewhere. and i do believe that the majority of them mean well (altho i do think a lot of them want/expect way too much from fkt but i'll get to that), but it's almost as if they forget they're grown men who are more than capable of advocating for themselves. i mean fucking hell, was it not them aggressively advocating for themselves for years that got them put on a show together in the first place? first and khaotung are clearly not people who have difficulty going after what they want, esp when together. i've heard that fkt are notoriously picky about which scripts they accept, which doesn't sound to me like people who are really being neglected by their company. neglected actors don't get the luxury of being picky about jobs. neglected actors are lucky to get any jobs.

(and this goes for events and stuff too, which is a common gripe i've seen. in my opinion - and this is just mine! - people who take their acting as seriously as first and khaotung may not want to take loads of events where they're essentially glorified salesmen. and i mean that with no shade bc make that bag always, but as i see it that's all those events are - extra money in their pockets. i can't see how they would do anything for their career really. and doesn't it just make sense that if they're picky abt their jobs that would also extend into events and stuff too? like? i mean ppl are free to disagree w me on this bc this is just my opinion but yknow. i just think ppl make this into a bigger thing than it is)

and funnily enough i also saw a thread on twt the other day abt how fkt are much bigger internationally than they are in thailand. the shows they've opted to do (again, opted, bc they have a choice) are shows that allegedly don't appeal to a domestic market like most other gmmtv shows do. and so, no matter how you or i might feel abt it, from a business pov it makes sense that they might not be getting the opportunities some other actors might be getting if there simply just isn't demand for it domestically. which sucks, but if that's how it is, that's how it is.

and don't get me wrong i completely get viciously advocating for your faves ok? im an army. for half of bts' career fans were all they had. but sometimes that advocacy becomes a) kinda ridiculously demanding given the context and b) almost condescending. or very condescending sometimes. this goes for bts and fkt both. and while it's all well and good wanting things for them, all i'm saying is let's not forget that they are grown men who are not new to this business. not to mention the fact they have a known track record of advocating for themselves, or the fact that they enough scripts coming their way to be able to be picky, or the fact that already have a new show lined up. first has two even! and a show currently airing! and a cameo that just aired like last week! and another one we know is coming! like my god these are not men who are hurting for work rn.

and in my humble opinion, coming to learn about this industry relatively recently, i think ppl expect too much from these actors overall. i think a lot of them - fkt included - work a hell of a fucking lot actually. i think demanding much more is just selfishness. if im honest. like yes it's nice to see them doing events and stuff. but it's not necessary. and i'll be honest! would i like more interviews and magazines and things like that? sure! but like i said if the demand isn't there, neither will the offers be. that's just the reality of what it is! i'm not going to be sending trucks about it lmfao

the bottom line is this: i'm not saying gmmtv do or don't neglect them. i don't have enough information to have a strong enough opinion one way or the other. but from the outside looking in they seem to be doing just fine. they've got work. they've seemingly got money. and like i said, they're grown men. this is their careers. if they have issues with one thing or another, i trust that they will address those issues as they see fit between themselves and their company. until the day that first and/or khaotung themselves express unhappiness or discontentment, i will take them at face value and believe that they're happy w the way things are. bc literally who tf am i to tell them they should be doing anything different?

[cleolinda]

JANUARY 3: This is the Silent Hill 2 remake, I don't usually play video games, and I can't get out of the parking lot.

JANUARY 5, TWO WEEKS AGO: I have since made a lot of progress in my limited game time, but this is from my second attempt at playing. I was still learning to walk. As such, already knowing the game really well from watching streamers play it, I wanted to settle into the first couple of areas and work on basic skills like a baby deer. I... certainly practiced something.

Yes, this was my genuine reaction. It's just humorous yelling rather than scary yelling.

--

[Comments directed at my player character are in parentheses.]

Okay, I have walked James to the town. Very impressed with myself. I'll explain that story later. I have a very short amount of time in which I am alone in the house and can scream if necessary. Okay, we're gonna—we're gonna do a leisurely jog. 

(No, that's the wall. That's my fault. That's on me.) 

Camera? Nobody told me that the camera is the most impart—the most important part of moving forward. That was my trouble yesterday. Camera...? [I pilot James badly.] (Okay, that's on me. I don't want to run you into the railing. That's on me.) Okay, we can't go that way, can we? That's the whole thing. Okay, we gotta turn around, this what I thought. Mooove the camera. 

I'm trying to get us to the combat. I'm trying to get us to the combat tutorial because—before people come home—(that's the rail, that's the rail. That's on me. That's not you, that's on me). I'm trying to get us to the combat so I can find out exactly how steep the learning curve is gonna be—listen, this monster is very hard for a lot of people. If I get my ass beat, there's no shame in that. (That's the wall. Don't—don’t go into the wall.) There's no shame in that, but I want to know how hard it is actually going to be for me to learn this. I'm just trying to feel this out before I… (Keep—you’re doing good. You're doing great) ...before I subject all of y'all to 11 hours of me dying horribly. Okay—okay, he's really huffing and puffing, it's very realistic, here we go. 

(You're good, you're good with gates. We got you good at that. Come on, here we go. Go through the gate. Thank you. Thank you. All right. We're doing great. You're doing—you’re doing so good. Here we go. Oh—jog. Pinky finger [on the shift key for sprint], here we go. Camera, moving the camera for you. All right. Jog—that's trash, that’s—that's a dumpster. I didn't mean for that. Okay.) 

Flower shop? I’m not—I have watched the cut scene with Angela [in the cemetery]. I actually really wanna talk about the flower shop a lot, but we're not gonna do that today. This is not an official gameplay recording [video]. We are just going to haul ass and get to—that's a door. Okay, that's not the flower shop. Here we go. 

(Power walk! Come on, we got this. That—that's barbed wire, we don't wanna go into that, okay. Here we go.) 

This is just a—you’re probably going, why are you rushing through this? Because it’s a really long jog down a really long road, and it's very liminal and purposeful, but… nothing is happening, nothing is going to happen, until you get that first weapon. 

[I didn't express this idea very well: I was trying to learn the controls and basic skills, and I wouldn't be able to really practice exploring the town until I could break windows with the melee weapon. I knew the game well from watching playthroughs, and I didn't rush my "real" play time when I started over.] 

Please tell me I didn't turn him around and we’re not going back towards the ranch. This is such a long jog, Jesus Christ. I mean, I've watched it so I know it's long, but good god. Okay, follow the puddle trail. (That's a van. We're not getting in the van. Here we go, keep going.) We gotta find the blood puddle. Come on, we gotta find the blood puddle in… the… okay, that's a farm? That's another farm. Cornfield. Have I passed a cornfield before? I think I have. [A spooky sound.] So we're—the fuck was that? Okay. [It was in the] background—

(I'm sorry, I know you're getting your steps in. I know you're getting your cardio in. I'm very sorry. But if you're gonna find your wife, we gotta do this.)

[I see a familiar gate ahead.]

NOOOO. NO, HAVE I GONE BACK TO THE CEMETERY? Noooooo! nOoOoOo, how did I do this? Noooo! I thought it didn't look like town! Oh no! NO! (Oh, that was—I am so sorry. That was the wall and that was your elbow. I am so sorry. Honey, how did we end up doing this?!) nOoOoO! How am I back at the cemeterrryyy? No!! I'm running out of time. I do not want my family—(that’s barbed wire)—I do not want my family to hear me screaming because I'm sure I will be—I can't fucking believe this.
 I ran him back past the ranch to the cemeTERY!! 

I'm gonna have to pull out the map. Everyone pulls out the map and I didn't and I need to make sure I'm going in the right direction. I got into an auto shop; I got a key; I opened a gate. I did all kinds of shit—I did so good, and the walk into town is so long that I didn't even realize I—how did I go the wRoNg wAy?!

Okay, at least the gate's already open. It's a straight shot once we get to the auto shop. It better be a straight fucking shot. I'm so mad. [Aggressively optimistic:] Okay. No, no, we got this. We got this. We're gonna interact with it. We're gonna interact with it. I'm learning to interact. The camera is a big part of interacting. Come on. Come on.

[Optimistically:] I got extra practice walking!

[dgttwisted]

Together

n2 squad aka Leona x Vil x Jamil idea inspired by @mellosdrawings

this drabble is crossing cannons aka not cannon cannon aka (don't think to hard on it i wrote this because i had a cute thought an wanted to wright it)

-

according to the schedule is which dorm takes care of Lilith an Grim which week. as per usual when Vil gets Lilith for a week he spoils the crap out of her. This week will be no exception however he had something a little different planned.

-the night before the new week-

"as you know this week our dorm will be in charge of Lilith's care"

"i know?"

"lucky you"

"well i wanted to do something special we have discussed having kids in the future an i thought all of us could try helping Lilith this week together as a unit"

"sure I'm in as far as kids go Lilith is no where near as hyperactive as Cheka is"

"hate to rain on your parade but that might not work well"

"why not?"

Jamil dramatically points at himself

"oh yea she's scared stiff of you"

"how could i forget she cried her eyes out when you ran into her at night during your stay at the dorm for practice"

"didn't you save her though? during the whole Styx rescue?"

"she was asleep the whole time i doubt she knows what happened unless someone told her I'm pretty sure she has no idea that, that occurred"

"worry not I'll butter her up so when you make your appearance she won't be as scared"

"we'll figure it out sense Vil is dead set on this being a team effort an all" Leona said in a rather dry sarcastic tone which earned him a pillow to the face from Vil.

--the beginning of said week--

Vil had only knocked on the door once before hearing the shuffling as the door swung open Lilith jumped into Vil's arms "VIL!!!!!!"

"my little star!" Vil scoops her up an swings her around

Leona had the biggest smirk on his face he just knows Vil spoils the crap out of her to get that reaction our of her.

"hi Leona...are you sleeping over to?"

"heh yea something like that"

"your not allowed to steal our bed like you did last time jerk!" the shrill voice of grim caused them both to look down at the displeased fur ball. "i'll set you on fire if you do"

"i'd like to see you try-"

"so Lilith not that i need it but i will be getting a little extra help this week watching over you"

"i don't see Rook an Epel"

"that's because its not them this time its Leona an someone else who is very special to me they will be coming over later"

"ok you're here so i know i'll have fun" Vil giving her little kisses on the cheek for that one, Lilith is Vil's trial daughter would have loved to adopt her but was informed it was out of the question.

while Leona an Vil where playing with Lilith they had Jamil sneak into the kitchen the plan is to hopefully bribe Lilith with food to forget her trauma....

Lilith was holding a little tea party she tied ribbons in Leona's hair who just let it happen because Lilith seemed to be having a good time.

"a splendid party like always Lilith!" whenever Lilith is happy she glows so it makes it very easy to tell if she is lying about liking something but she gets rather embarrassed when you point that out.

Jamil had a trey of sweets he only took two steps into the room when Lilith lifted up her head saw him an screamed. 'about what i expected' Jamil thought to himself right before a plastic cup smacked him in the face curtsy of a scared Lilith.

Vil scooped her up trying to calm her down but she was wailing "NO NO GET AWAY!!! MONSTER!!!!"

monster probably hurt him the worse but considering how he treated her while be Over blotted he expected that reaction. he placed the trey on the floor an left the room.

it took Vil quite some time before Lilith calmed down an when she did Leona scooped her up an fed her some sweets gave Vil the look of 'i got this one you get him' an Vil left to check on Jamil

"i apologize i knew she was scared of you but i didn't think it was still that bad"

"you have nothing to be sorry about....this is my own fault"

"i know you didn't mean to-"

"take it out on her? yea well when i over blotted i did! i swatted the rest away an tormented a toddler...."

"but you also saved her even if she doesn't know that you did"

"she won't ever know an that's fine...I'm normally better with kids you know? if we did this whole practice thing with any other kid i could have shown off how capable i am an-" Vil kissed Jamil on his cheek

"i know how capable you are"

--

Leona swaying Lilith about trying to get her in a sleepy mood but she seems to shaken up to sleep. "hay squirt want to hear a bedtime story?" Lilith nodded

"k..." shit guess he actually has to now "long ago...actually it wasn't that long ago probably a week ago a big bad guy with blue flames for hair kidnapped a princess an challenged 5 hero's to stop his evil plan an save the princess they had to split up in order to have a chance of beating him leaving many trials an tests along the way on of those hero's was yours truly an the other was Jamil" hearing his name even during the story made Lilith tremble a little but leona swung her around a bit before nuzzling her face making her giggle "how can a monster be a hero you might be asking yourself? monsters can learn to grow from there mistakes i to had moments of being a monster but i grew out of it" for the most part.

"anyway all the hero's including the monster agreed that we had to save the princess as well as stop him he made it real tough you know every time we made a big attack he kept holding the princess just out of reach so we couldn't save her but i guess it takes a monster to know a monster because the monster saved the princess dove over an grabbed her from the clutches of the bad guy"

"Jamil really do that?"

"yup saw him do it with my own eyes"

"...." she was still fuming "listen kid you don't gotta forgive him for what he did don't blame you if you don't, but i promise you he regrets hurting you an he is trying i promise"

"can i get a different bed time story?"

"nope, you're stuck with the one i gave you"

"Vil would have told me another one"

"I'm not Vil"

Lilith stuck her tunge out him an Leona repeated the motion back at her. "good night little herbivore" he tucks Lilith in an she is sound asleep in minutes.

next morning Jamil making breakfast in the kitchen his plan was just to make food an leave before Lilith woke up. he stopped when he heard a ruffling "grim is that you? you have to wait until Lilith gets her share before you eat it all-" he turned an froze when he saw Lilith peeking from behind the wall just staring at him. he turned away from her so she wouldn't have to look at his face.

he heard tiny foot steps he could tell she was standing right behind him. "thank you" his head went up but he didn't turn around he wasn't expecting that.

"thank you for saving me....Leona told me you saved me from a monster..." she then kicks the back of his leg "i still don't like you though" an she ran away to go get dressed into not P jays

Jamil left standing in the kitchen alone with his thoughts till Vil an Leona came by. "you didn't have to do that"

"what tell her the truth? well i did hopefully she'll throw less stuff at you now-" Jamil rested his head on Leona's shoulder in a very subtle way of saying thank you which Jamil was to shy to say. Leona an Vil hugged him close let him know he wasn't alone an they would figure this all out together.

"hay can i eat food now or do i have to wait till your done hugging an shit" that earned Grim a smack from Vil "you better not say such vile things around Lilith"

"ow! i'd never after all im her role model"

"yikes maybe we should have Lilith move dorms so she has better role models"

"I'm all for that, i say Pomefiore she would have much better role models including Vil"

grim blew out flames "NO SHE'S NOT GOING ANYWHERE"

"aw you do care about her"

"duh! She's my henchmen!"

the three of them laughed as they helped get Lilith an Grim ready for class today.

[the-morningstar-family]

I mean, mental health in general was treated VERY different when Alastor was alive

Alastor is cooking lunch, a go to relaxation method. It gives him something to do with the hands, and something for the mind to focus on. A wonderful occupation, really. The radio is playing, of course, and Keekee is walking between his legs. She hops on the counter, slightly pulling the plug of the electric kettle.

Alastor: “Dear, how often do I have to tell you that you don't belong on the countertop?”

He plugs her down, ignoring her protests. The tranquility only interrupted by the golden glow of a portal that suddenly opens in front of him.

Lucifer: “Alastor! I've done some research!”

Lucifer waves a book around, "One Hundred Years of Psychoanalysis: A Timeline of Thought and Theorists”. The small king is bouncing in excitement, which the deer finds cute, if only it wasn't about… that.

Lucifer: “Maybe with this we'll figure out what happened!”

Alastor: “Why are you assuming something did happen? Am I giving you any indication that I am suffering from dementia?”

Lucifer: “Pfff. No, your memory can be scarily good sometimes.”

Alastor: “Then let this go! How can I have such an excellent memory, and then just forget about a formative event, if it is oh so bad.”

Lucifer: “Between forgetting and repression is a world of difference, Hun”

The demon puts the knife down, to fully turn to the angel.

Alastor: “Fine. Say I have such a memory. Do you expect me to show me a picture and I'll magically remember?”

Lucifer, mumbling: “Not magically…”

Alastor: “Mh?”

Lucifer: “Well, sometimes pictures or descriptions cause people to remember. Especially if they've been confronted”

Alastor: “Right. And suppose if I have this memory, and I do remember, why should I want to if it was a completely negative experience?”

Lucifer: “To work through it!”

A grimace graces Alastor's face, and he continues to cut his vegetables.

Alastor: “We have enough work on our hands. What makes you think -”

Lucifer: “Alastor! The plug!”

But it's too late, the deer has already grazed it. A small shock transfers to Alastor's hand. It's nothing much. Just a small current. A little tingle but nothing more. Alastor, however, freezes. Staring into nothing.

Lucifer: “Alastor? Are you okay?”

He gets no answer. Only the rising and falling of his partner's chest.

Lucifer: “Al, common. Say something��

Even at the soft touch of Lucifer's hands, the demon doesn't react. He is just still, like a statue. Except… a little tear rolls down his cheek. Only one.

Lucifer: “Al?”

This time he finally, finally, reacts. Blinking, dazed around the room. Until landing on the king. Then his eyes close, the expression shifts and when his eyes are open again - it looks like nothing has happened.

Lucifer: “Are you good? What was that?”

Alastor: “Whatever do you mean? It was a small electric shock. Not even enough to frizzle hair.”

Lucifer: “You just spaced out for a solid forty seconds”

Alastor: “Don't be so dramatic, dear, I was caught by surprise, it was a second at most.”

The king stares. Al isn't playing it down, he is not lying. He simply doesn't know. The king quickly attaches himself to the deer like a needy coala to eucalyptus trees.

Alastor: “Lucifer!”

He says startled, but his demeanour is quickly softened.

Alastor: “You ridiculous little thing. You worry too much about this”

Lucifer: “let me fuss about you”

Alastor, rolling his eyes: “If you must”

[dcviated]

Right. The woman is a cinephile. Every quip he makes finds itself traced to one movie reference or another. But how the hell does a rock climbing wall have to settle that too? He laughs, more at Sonia than the actual reference itself. He's satisfied he got the flush, making sure to stare appropriately when she makes the remark in turn.

Not to worry, Sonia. Wylan is adept at multitasking. As seen here as they go about their shopping excursion amidst the displays and racks.

"If it's somewhere that gets snow on the ground, I try not to be there when the snow is. Alas, we can not in fact always get what we want." And, really, he should be epitomized by that sentiment. Though the twisting nebula of timelines had brought him to this point, taking clothes from his now-girlfriend to try on in extravagant fashion. It never evades him how many other opportunities were missed because of his circumstances. What kind of person could Zachary Reis have grown up to be, otherwise? "But if you try sometimes... Well." Wylan lets the remainder of the line be left to the air as the variety of items are taken in hand.

The wrench to his lips is played off comically, despite being sourced to the distaste of how his initial control of fate had set him down into the pits. No, Sonia, he doesn't really dislike your choices, but it's funny to act as though he's being judgmental. A leer sent her way as he leans in.

"There's a severe lack of cartoon characters and humorous logos on these shirts. I wear this and I might be considered someone who acts my age. Not a problem, I'll just compensate. It seemed to work some on your cousins, and I was barely even trying there. It was more trying to keep myself from being beaten up, but y'know."

After a hum, he smiles. Then slips into a changing room to start the show. Everything fit fine enough. And he made sure to dramatically present the fits to Sonia. One time going so far as to step out without any pants on. One of the sweaters being put back because he disliked how far it fell down his hips. That in itself doesn't alleviate some of the creeping feeling underlying this endeavor. That evasive part of his mind, one that wished to stay slippery and never wanted to be pinned down, knew what this was.

Reflecting on movie references, how many were there that included a scene of the rebel being cleaned up and pressed into a stiff ensemble? Sure, these clothes didn't itch as the stereotype usually implied, but Wylan felt a similar sentiment. After all. This wasn't a one-off attire or event for the purpose of fitting into a role. This was going to be him. Wylan Rechtur needed to be a clean cut individual so that he might be a fitting partner for Sonia Nevermind.

For her. For Sonia. For Sonia.

The wrench in his heart is swallowed back. The man stands, staring in the mirror, pensively. It clicks away, he clicks away. Adopting several different poses to see if he couldn't break free character-wise. Or if that mattered. Did it? Probably not. Just as Sonia was handed clothes to wear, the assassin imagines it'll be the same case for him. Some little assistant toddling after him that could go so far as to fuss over which buttons he bothered to snap.

Right then.

"These'll work." He lies, smoother than the coffee he had just been drinking with no betrayal on his features. The smile he passes to Sonia is genuine as he slips out of the changing room one last time (this time his pants are on, not going to pull that twice in one setting). Now back in his prior clothes with everything he was inclined to grab over the arm. "And if they don't, I'll make sure to take the blame, and not immediately throw you under the bus since you picked them out."

Ah, he seemed to misunderstand, Sonia thought as she smiled. An honest mistake, but one she should probably explain before he met the rest of the family. They likely wouldn't find it quite as amusing as she did. "The bias against America is primarily due to the fact that your country rejected monarchy," She replied with a shake of her head. "Not necessarily safety: despite America's deep love of firearms, every able-bodied and able-minded Novosonian is trained how to operate them for military duty, so they are less fearful of Americans in that regard. Your right-wing conservatives are much more vocal than ours, though, but I imagine some of the restrictions on royalty that trickle down to the rest of the aristocracy might please people with those values anyway."

But she seemed to misunderstand as well, and while Wylan's was an easy mistake to make, hers wasn't. Sonia knew, to some degree, what his life's work entailed and that he didn't likely take holidays off for fun: he likely couldn't afford to, for the very same reason she guessed was behind her staff's own worries. Safety concerns. Sonia briefly wondered how many people were currently out for his blood, if they could identify him and track him down, and she shivered. At least she could write it off as the weather's responsibility.

"Sorry, I should have realized you would be traveling there for...erm, work," Sonia apologized. She hadn't meant to stress that particular word but it just slipped out, a casual admittance of her worries for him. About so many things: keeping him alive was only one of them. It would be a test to see who was more risky to his health: his past employers or enemies, or her own family.

Thankfully he changed the subject to something else, anything else. "Rock climbing walls? Like in The Princess Diaries?" She piped up before turning pink in embarrassment. "It is not my usual film choice but, when my floormates heard during my first year of Uni that I hadn't seen those films, they insisted that needed to be rectified. As an actual princess with a certain disdain for the Disneyfied versions, they were not too terrible." The second one in particular was resonant: a Royal Council's obsession with finding the crown princess a husband as God forbid she try to reign alone.

A topic a little too close to home, and therefore Sonia would do what she always did during times of anxiety: briefly chew at her mouth before diverting the conversation elsewhere.

"Well, if it is anything like the film then I trust you," She assured him, "But as I remember last night with some amount of clarity, watching my ass means you will have to give my thighs a respite. It may prove too taxing to keep both areas of my body in your sights at the same time."

If he was going to start with banter, she'd be sure to have the last word. At least, that was her intention by purposely reminding him of what her ass was attached to. "I am not sure that the Galeries Lafayette sells pet and pet care items," She admitted as they began to descend the stairs back into the department store proper. "Barring something from Louis Vuitton or Gucci. Does a luxury designer leash and collar have the same effect?" In short, nothing cheap.

Then again, nothing in the grand department store composed of three different buildings in one was cheap. Something Wylan would have to get used to. Something Sonia quietly hoped he never did. They re-entered the men's building and while he entrusted her to pick out something she wanted to see him in, what Sonia really wanted for him was for him to not lose himself in it all. The wealth. The pomp. The familial pressure to acclimate and perform in the manner of tradition he hadn't been indoctrinated into since the day of his birth, like the other peers he would soon be surrounded by. They'd have a leg up on him in every possible way, save two.

The ability to take a life, and the ability to keep her heart.

"You'll need a good coat, especially for the current season," She began. Perhaps best to start with outerwear and work her way in. Or under, she thought briefly as she blushed at the idea of picking out undergarments for him. Hopefully he could handle that himself. "Truth be told, I am often just given clothes to wear and do not often have the luxury to choose anything I wish. And um...I am rather more used to undressing men rather than dressing them. So this is a first for me, really: But I shall do my best. Even though I would love you even if you just wearing a paper bag, Wylan."

Something that could be interpreted as another challenge, Sonia thought as she guessed at his sizes, pulling out a deep gray wool overcoat, two blazers, three pairs of trousers and a pair of jeans, five button down shirts, and two pullover sweaters. Besides the gray, she'd mostly chosen shades of dark blue, navy, and green: they coordinated with or matched his eyes, as well as the usual colors the family wore. Accessories, shoes, sportswear, and sleepwear were whole other categories that needed their own focus and devotion.

"Perhaps try these on for the sizing and feel," She suggested once several workers arranged them all in a dressing room. "I should've asked, I suppose, if wool irritates you. I think you might appreciate it, alongside the cotton and silk blends, for this part of the world at this time of year. I cannot imagine that Las Vegas is conducive to cold winters at all.

[amaryllis-3]

Pairing: Stalker! König × Fem Reader

WARNINGS: MDNI, 18+, dark content, stalking, dubcon, noncon (both are hinted, non vividly described)

No matter how much you might have wanted to believe otherwise, you weren't alone. You were aware of that.

The windows were shuttered, heavy curtains drawn to shroud the glass, and yet you could still feel his eyes staring at you, following your every movement without missing a single one.

It almost made you suspect he was stuck inside with you.

As if fate was trying to mock you, a dull noise echoed behind you. Loud enough to be heard in the complete silence of your flat, loud enough to inform you of his presence.

Ah, he considered you so incapable of escaping him that he didn't really worry about blowing his cover. After all the weeks he'd spent observing you, he knew deep down that you wouldn't stand a chance anyway. Not against someone like him.

Your body petrified in its position, heart racing and lump trapped in your throat. Your face hardly turned, just the right amount to spot the man standing near the door that separated the kitchen from the living room.

There was no doubt whatsoever regarding his identity, even though that was the first time he'd let himself be completely seen. You'd glimpsed his shadow on different occasions, nothing he hadn't chosen to show you, however.

He was enormous, more imposing than anyone you'd ever met. His squared shoulders virtually succeeded in blocking any trail of light coming from the adjacent room, and that veil... That black veil which masked every possible detail of his features, except for the piercing blue irises, sent your anxiety sky-high.

He was on you before you could think of doing anything. Absurd how someone so big could move so fast. His arm closed around your waist, lifting you off the ground as if you weighed nothing and making your back crash into his broad chest. Despite the material in between, you could sense his hot breath branding your neck, his lips parting to whisper in your ear: "I caught you, Mäuschen."

Your eyes began to sting, salty tears soon to be shed as his other hand travelled down, resting on your belly. His gloved fingers barely shifted the fabric of your top to caress your heated skin.

"You did so well... ignoring all the signs." His voice wasn't what you'd expect from a mountain of a man such as him: it wasn't deep, rough, or gruff, but it came out somewhat high-pitched, in an accented, sickeningly sweet flow that managed to give you goosebumps. "That's why you can't be left alone. Anyone could sneak in here, and you wouldn't even notice."

The "just like me" wasn't uttered. It wasn't really necessary, not with the way the implication had settled in the air around you. He'd already done it. He'd violated the security of your home who knows how many times prior to that. He'd invaded your privacy, and you'd made no effort to stop him, nothing sufficient at least.

On top of all the paranoia and fear he'd planted in you, he also had the audacity to toy with you. Playing with his prey before snatching it, not unlike a cat with mice. Had you perhaps become that? A mouse about to be devoured?

"Don't be afraid." If his aim was to reassure you, he was doing a terrible job. His hand descended lower until it cupped your mound, thick fingertips tentatively rubbing the area where your clothed clit should have been. A choked sob escaped your mouth when you felt the outline of his cock pressing against your ass, the reality of what was to happen shortly thereafter starting to grow painfully clear.

"I'll take care of you from now on."

➮ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

[lifeofpriya]

hi bestie, may i please request "midnight drives with street food pit-stops and making out with the car radio playing in the background." from the domestic fluff prompt list? ❤️ - @pyotrkochetkov

hi bestie!!! omg, of course you can 🤭❤️

Midnight Drives

wc: 2.62k

Jack tossed and turned, the digital clock on his nightstand blinking a stark 3:42 AM. The quiet hum of the AC was usually a comfort, but tonight it was a taunt, reminding him that while the world slept, he lay wide awake. He slid out of bed, careful not to wake you, and padded over to the window, peering out at the moonlit street. Restlessness buzzed in his veins like an unplayed guitar string.

"You okay?" you mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

Jack turned, the moonlight painting shadows across his face. "Yeah," he said with a yawn, "Just couldn't sleep."

You sat up, the blanket falling off your shoulders. "Want to do something?"

Jack nodded, the energy in his eyes brightening at the prospect of distraction. "What do you have in mind?"

You stretched, the silhouette of your body casting a soft curve against the moonlit wall. "How about a midnight drive?"

Jack's eyes lit up like the dashboard of a vintage car. "Yeah," he said, "That sounds perfect."

You both slipped into your shoes, Jack grabbed his favorite black beanie, and you pulled on a sweater. The cool air greeted you as you stepped outside, the night whispering secrets to the stars above London. The streets were a canvas of shadows and moonlit puddles, the occasional streetlight casting a warm glow on the quiet houses.

"Wait, we're going in your Polo? It's a bit… old," you said with a smirk, eyeing the second-hand Volkswagen Polo parked on the curb.

Jack chuckled, unlocking the door with a beep. "It's got character," he said, sliding into the driver's seat. "And it's all about the journey, right?"

"You're not driving, are you?" You raised an eyebrow, "let me drive, you still have the hip tendinitis issue that's been acting up."

Jack handed over the keys with a dramatic sigh. "Fine, you win. But only because I love you." He smirked, climbing into the passenger seat.

You slid behind the wheel, the leather cold against your palms. The engine of the Polo purred to life with a comforting rumble. The car was indeed old, but it had a charm that new vehicles lacked. It was like a well-worn book, full of stories and memories, ready to write a new chapter with each turn of the page—or in this case, the wheel.

Jack leaned back in his seat, the fabric of his beanie brushing against the headrest. "Where to, my chauffeur?"

You grinned, starting the car. "Let's hit the A24. Maybe grab some street food?"

Jack's stomach growled in agreement. "Perfect. I could go for some chips and gravy."

You nodded, pulling out onto the deserted street. The car's headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating the damp pavement. As you drove, the conversation meandered through past memories and future dreams, the kind that only unfold in the quiet hours of the night. The city felt different under the cloak of darkness, the hustle and bustle of daytime London replaced with a serene stillness that only nocturnal creatures knew well.

The first stop was at a dimly lit food truck, the scent of sizzling onions and fried dough wafting through the open window. You parked the car and Jack's stomach rumbled again. "I'll grab the snacks," you said, hopping out and leaving the engine running.

Jack leaned his head back, watching the shadows dance on the car ceiling as the streetlights flickered overhead. The radio was playing an Oasis song, the kind of classic that filled the quiet spaces between your whispers.

You returned to the car with a grease-stained bag, the mouthwatering aroma of salt and vinegar filling the small space. You handed him a steaming paper cone of chips, the gravy threatening to overflow. He took a bite, savoring the warmth and comfort of the food.

"Mm, perfect," he murmured, licking his lips.

You took a bite of your own chips, the crunch echoing in the quiet car. "Where to next?" you asked, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

Jack grinned, crumbs clinging to his scruff. "How about that little park we used to visit?"

You nodded, already knowing which one he meant—the small patch of green nestled between the urban sprawl, where the two of you had spent countless nights under the stars, sharing secrets and laughter. You put the car into gear and drove through the sleeping city, the tires whispering over the damp asphalt. The radio played a mellow tune, the rhythm syncing with the thrum of the engine as you made your way to the park.

Upon arriving, you parked the Polo under the welcoming shade of an old oak tree, its branches casting intricate patterns on the windshield. The moon was a silver disc in the sky, casting a soft glow that painted the world in shades of blue and gray. You turned off the engine, and the sudden silence was broken only by the distant hoot of an owl and the occasional rustle of leaves.

Jack took a deep breath, the crisp night air a stark contrast to the warmth of the car. "Thanks for bringing me here," he said, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. "It's been ages."

"It's our spot," you said with a shrug, popping a chip in your mouth. "It's like coming home."

Jack nodded, his gaze on the horizon where the city lights kissed the sky. "It is," he said softly. He took your hand, the warmth of your touch a comfort in the cool night.

You both sat in companionable silence for a moment, munching on your chips. The crunch of each bite was punctuated by the distant sounds of the night.

Jack's eyes met yours, the moon's reflection dancing in his gaze. Without a word, you leaned over the center console, and your lips met in a soft kiss. It was the kind of kiss that spoke volumes, a silent conversation filled with unspoken comfort and understanding.

As you pulled away, a crumb of chip stuck to the corner of your mouth, and Jack playfully brushed it away with his thumb. "What am I going to do without you?" he said, his voice a gentle rumble.

You smirked, licking the salt from your lips. "You'll survive," you teased. "But not without missing me."

Jack rolled his eyes playfully. "I suppose." He took another bite of his chips, the crunch echoing in the quiet car.

You chuckled, swiping a stray gravy smear from his cheek with your thumb. "Messy eater."

Jack grinned, his teeth flashing in the moonlight. "You love it."

You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face was undeniable. "Okay, okay," you admitted, "It's a bit charming."

Jack leaned in closer, his breath warm against your cheek. "You love it," he whispered, his eyes sparkling.

Before you could respond to Jack's playful tease, he leaned over, capturing your lips in a kiss that was anything but messy. It was a kiss that held the promise of adventures, of shared laughter and quiet moments like these. The kind of kiss that made the world outside the car windows blur into a canvas of moonlit colors.

The radio played Wonderwall, the classic melody serenading your midnight escapade. You leaned over to the radio to turn it down a notch, not wanting to disturb the tranquil night. Your eyes met Jack's, and he gave you a knowing smile. This was your song. The one that had played on your first date, the one that had been the background track to so many of your shared moments.

Jack's hand found its way to your cheek, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw before his fingertips tangled in your hair. He pulled you closer, the warmth of his breath mingling with the chilly night air. The kiss grew deeper, more urgent, as if trying to bridge the gap that the silence of the night had created.

You felt the comfort of his touch, the familiarity of his embrace. The city lights reflected off the puddles on the pavement, casting a kaleidoscope of colors onto the car's dashboard, painting the inside of the Polo with a romantic glow.

Jack broke away, a smear of gravy on his lip that you couldn't resist wiping away with the pad of your thumb. He laughed, the sound low and warm in the car. "We're a mess," he said, his voice a soft rumble.

You nodded, licking the gravy off your thumb. "We are," you agreed, "But it's our kind of mess."

Jack leaned back in his seat, a content sigh escaping his lips. "Yeah," he said, his eyes drifting shut. "It is."

You watched him for a moment, his features softened by the moonlight. You reached over to the dashboard and turned off the radio, letting the quiet of the night fill the car. The only sound now was the faint rustling of leaves and the distant hum of the city's heartbeat.

"Jack," you whispered, your voice a soft caress.

Jack's eyes fluttered open, his gaze finding yours in the dim light. "Yeah?"

You smirked, "is the Polo big enough for a 6'4, almost 6'5, guy for you to make out like there's no tomorrow?"

Jack chuckled, "It's cozy." He leaned over the console, closing the gap between you, and kissed you again, this time with a playful nip that made you laugh into his mouth.

The kiss grew in intensity, your hands finding their way under his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin. The chips and gravy forgotten, the bag now crumpled in the footwell, the world outside the car ceased to exist. The only reality was the taste of him, the feel of his hands on your body, the sound of your muffled moans.

Jack's hand traveled down your spine, sending shivers down your legs. He pulled you closer, and you straddled him in the cramped space of the Polo, not caring about the bruises the gear stick might leave. The leather of the seat was cold against the back of your thighs, but it was a welcome sensation against the heat of your skin.

You broke the kiss to gasp for air, your chest rising and falling rapidly. "Jack," you whispered, "We should—"

But Jack's eyes held a mischievous glint, and before you could finish your sentence, he had unbuckled your seatbelt and pulled you into his lap. His beanie fell off, revealing messy hair that stuck up in every direction, but it only made him more endearing. Your heart thumped in your chest like a bassline in a love song, setting the rhythm for the rest of the night.

"Jack, we can't," you protested half-heartedly, even as your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer.

"Why not?" he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and his eyes gleaming with excitement.

You laughed softly, the sound like a secret whispered to the night. "Because we're in a car, in a public park, and it's freezing out here."

Jack grinned, his teeth flashing in the moonlight. "We've done crazier things," he said, his voice low and persuasive.

You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face was unmistakable. "Fine," you whispered, your heart racing. You leaned in, your nose brushing against his as you captured his mouth in a kiss that sent a bolt of lightning through your body.

Jack's hands roamed over your back, his fingers tracing the curves and dips as if he were playing an instrument. You gasped as his teeth grazed your lower lip, and your hand found its way to the hem of his shirt, sliding underneath to feel the warm, smooth skin beneath. The coolness of the night air seeped through the car windows, a stark contrast to the heat building between you.

You both knew this wasn't the time or place for such an intimate embrace, but the allure of the stolen moment was too tempting to resist. The quiet whispers of the night air outside seemed to encourage your boldness, wrapping the car in a cocoon of privacy. The world had gone to sleep, leaving only the two of you in this secret, moonlit bubble.

Jack's hands moved to the small of your back, pulling you closer, as if trying to meld your bodies into one. The fabric of your sweater was the only barrier between you, a frustrating yet tantalizing reminder of the reality that waited outside the car.

You giggled, the sound sweet and soft in the darkness. "Jack, we're going to freeze to death out here," you whispered, breaking the kiss.

Jack's smile was a warm light in the shadows. "Worth it," he murmured, his hands still exploring the curves of your body.

You giggled again, a sound that Jack had come to cherish. "Okay, okay," you conceded, "But just for a little longer."

Jack's grin grew wider, and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in for another kiss. The taste of gravy and salt lingered on your lips, a delicious reminder of the impromptu snack that had led to this stolen moment.

You leaned into him, your hands fisting in his shirt. The world outside the car was forgotten, the only reality the warmth of his body pressed against yours. The leather of the seat was cold, but you didn't care. The cold was a thrilling contrast to the heat that was building between you.

Jack's fingers danced along the bare skin of your waist, sending shivers down your spine. His breath was warm against your neck, his kisses tender yet insistent. The gravity of his gaze was like the pull of a black hole, and you couldn't help but get lost in it.

"We should get going," you murmured, your voice a mere whisper against the velvet night.

Jack let out a soft yawn and rested his head on your shoulder. "You're right," he said, his voice muffled by your sweater. "But I'm not sure I want to leave this bubble."

You chuckled, kissing the top of his head. "Me neither," you admitted. "But we can't stay here forever."

Jack nodded, reluctantly letting you go. He took a deep breath, the cold air hitting him like a slap as you slid back into your seat. "You're right," he said, his voice a little rough around the edges.

You both buckled up and turned the key in the ignition, the Polo's engine rumbling back to life with a cough. The car's heater groaned, trying its best to combat the chilly night.

"Where to now?" you asked, your voice filled with excitement.

Jack let out another yawn, his eyes blinking sleepily. "Home, maybe?"

You nodded, smiling at his adorable messiness. "Home it is," you said, shifting the car into drive.

The journey back was a blend of comfortable silence and whispered confessions, the warmth of your bodies slowly thawing the chill from the car. The city's lights painted a vibrant tapestry across the dashboard, a silent story of the lives continuing outside your bubble.

You parked the Polo back at the curb, the engine sighing as it cooled. The house looked the same, but somehow different in the moonlit night. The quiet was a stark contrast to the cocoon of the car, and as you turned to face Jack, you knew the moment had changed you both.

Jack took your hand as you walked up the path, the cobblestones cold and familiar underfoot. "Thank you," he said, his voice a whisper in the night. "For always knowing when I need this."

You squeezed his hand in return, a smile playing on your lips. "You know I'm always up for an adventure."

Jack leaned over and kissed your cheek, his eyes still holding the warmth from your intimate moments. "Always."