#Good is in '' because it's not exactly the best but he's trying

[beloveds-embrace]

Dukedom au but instead of the men noticing reader post marriage, they already notice her pre marriage like maybe before they went to war and meet each other. She use to be so radiant especially on her debut to society. She dances John and Simon and they were entranced since then. Maybe she likes sneaking out bro mingle with the commons and met Johnny and Kyle that way. Then war happened and many other things by the time they were back they’re not exactly expecting their dream girl to be unmarried, she’s so beautiful why would she be unmarried, besides they have each other now.

Imagine their surprise when they found out not only is she unmarried but rather unpopular in society for one or two petty reasons too.

ANONNNNN I LOVE YOUR MIND

It wasn’t until after his return from the military- when he finally came home with Simon by his side, Kyle and Johnny already settled into their places in his household- that John actually heard the full extent of the rumors surrounding you.

You were barren, they said. Damaged. A woman past her prime who had rejected too many suitors out of pride and was now paying the price. Not docile enough to be a good wife, too much of a spitfire. Hysterical, the last time you had snapped at a man who had gotten a little too close to you. A stain on your family’s lineage, who were trying desperately to marry you off.

Kyle had been the first to bring it up, muttering about what he’d overheard at the bakery one morning while helping Johnny’s parents prepare for the day. Johnny, normally so cheerful, had been uncharacteristically quiet about the whole thing- quiet in that dangerous, simmering way that meant he was ready to fight anyone who so much as looked at you wrong.

And Simon?

Simon had just looked at John.

“Fix it.” he’d said, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

But it wasn’t simple.

Not when the love John felt for you had been complicated from the start. Not when Kyle and Johnny and Simon already occupied so much of his heart, and the idea of forcing you to share that space- even with men who adored you already- felt like asking too much.

So he waited, and waited.

He waited until he saw you again, looking so perfectly soft and sweet and untouched by the harshness of the world around you, even despite all the hate-filled rumors aimed your way, it nearly broke him. He waited until Kyle started dropping more and more excuses to see you, until Johnny began dragging you into their outings, until even Simon- gruff, stoic Simon- began pausing to ask how you were doing when he saw you in passing.

He waited until he couldn’t not ask.

And when he finally did- when he knelt before you and offered you everything he had, everything he was, everything they were because he would keep anything a secret from you- you didn’t answer right away.

“John…” You were at a loss for words, eyes shifting to a fro. You could hear your parents practically yelling at you to just accept, no matter what, within your mind.

Your cheeks turned warmer than a furnace, and you lowered your head, gritting your teeth. “Surely you all know that- that I’m not… exactly the best candidate for you.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Your eyes widened, mouth falling open, and he wanted to kiss that expression off your face. Replace it with something happier, brighter.

“It doesn’t matter.” John repeated, voice soft and so painfully fond. “They can say all they want. It’s you who I care about- we care about. Nobody else matters. Nothing else matters, except for your happiness and what you want. So I ask again… will you be my Duchess?”

You bit your lips, ignoring the tiny little voice of your nanny scolding you for your terrible nervous habit. You wanted to accept. You ached to accept.

“Promise me, John,” you breathed out. And he listened, more than anyone else ever has. “Promise me. I won’t ever be a simple accessory on your arm, or a forgotten relic in your home. I won’t be brushed aside, while everyone around me is loved. Please, John. If you can promise me that, then I accept.”

And for John?

It didn’t even take him a second before agreed; already, he could imagine the relief that the others would have, as well.

He could also imagine you, blooming in their home.

[strwberri-milk]

Could you please give headcanons on how Sylus and Rafayel would react if MC is used to people putting work before them? Like they grew knowing work comes first so if the guys have work commitments that take a long time or they go a while without talking, MC isn’t bothered or phased. They’re just happy to be talking again, and when unable they just busy themselves. Hope this made sense. Kind if sad comfort vibes, lol.

Sylus is good at focusing but not to the point of ignoring you. He realises something's off when he tries to figure out what the last thing you said to him was and figures it's been a while since then. You're still quietly keeping to yourself, clearly patiently waiting for him to give you attention once again. He clears his throat, this time as a way of signalling that he's finally done. Your head perks up immediately at the sound, making him chuckle a little as he beckons for you to come over to him.

Whenever he finds himself too busy to text you it almost upsets him that you respond without seeming to mind it all too much. He wants you to be mad at him, or at least annoyed that he couldn't find time to get to his phone (which does not happen - his phone was taken away from him for a period of time). You reply as though it hasn't been a week since he last was able to speak to you, prompting him to ask if he's done something.

It takes a while for him to figure out exactly what's happening but when he sorts out that you think his work is more important to him than you he rolls his eyes. There's no way you could ever think that because as far as he's concerned everything he does is for you. He'd quickly have you unlearning that habit, reassuring you that whenever you want him he's there because all he wants is you needing him.

There's no way you could feasibly feel like Rafayel puts work before you. You've witnessed just how annoying he gets when he doesn't want to work, trying your best to help out Thomas by bribing Rafayel with things if he promises to just sit down and actually paint for a few hours.

When he actually does lock in though it will be days until you get something out of him that isn't just a grunt. His phone dies and he doesn't pick up his calls but you're used to it so it doesn't bother you. It takes him until he's actually about to collapse from exhaustion to realise how long it's been since the last time he saw you and he is not very happy about that one. Once his phone is finally returned to the land of the living he spams you with texts and calls, telling you to come over and see him.

You're pretty calm considering he accidentally ignored you for a few days. He was hoping you'd have some stronger emotion besides just brushing him off and reassuring him that it's fine and you really don't actually mind. After a bit of prodding he finally figures out what's happening and tells you that he doesn't care when or how - he wants nothing more than for you to monopolise his attention or at least just hang out with him as he works. He loves you and wants to spend as much time as possible with you.

[notaplaceofhonour]

I would both question the idea that the BITE model is the best model (not saying it can never be helpful, but there are noticeable problems with it*) and encourage everyone to take the work & opinions of its creator (Steven Hassan) and what he considers a cult with a heavy, heavy grain of salt.

This is a guy who quite literally claimed the reason trans people believe that J.K. Rowling (and by extension her “Gender Critical”/TERF arguments) is transphobic is because they’ve been indoctrinated into a “psy op mind control” cult by the Christian far right so gender-affirming care could be used as a form of anti-gay conversion therapy (aka the Trans Cult Conspiracy Theory).

And I don’t think this is just a case of someone having a bad opinion on one issue and a good opinion on another. It’s the direct results of flaws in the way he thinks/speaks about cults, which are baked into the BITE model. It’s exactly the versatility of the BITE model, listed above as one of its assets, that is actually the problem with it. Its reliance on subjective value judgements makes it easy to apply broadly, yes, that just leaves it extremely prone to just reinforcing confirmation bias rather than actually narrowing anything down & properly diagnosing anything. it makes it way too easy to apply way too broadly.

Hassan easily uses the BITE model to cast the fight for trans health care as a cult, criticism of JK Rowling’s transphobia as a cult, and even criticism of him and his opinions as the nefarious machinations of that same “cult”. And yet, I can easily look at that—the trans cult conspiracy theory, the way he employs rhetoric about “cancel culture” to silence dissent, the casting of his critics as the monolithic brainwashed masses in an “us vs them” narrative where he’s just prometheus trying to bring fire down to us—and I can easily use his own BITE model (as well as the fact that he was self-reportedly in a leadership role within the moonie cult, with a history of employing these tactics on followers) to make similar claims about him. But I think the truth is more complicated than that; I don’t sincerely think he’s literally brainwashing anyone into a culty group, just illustrating how subjective & loaded his model is.

This is not just me saying this. While his work is popular, it is not without controversy within academia. Fellow sociologists have argued that his work may be part of a moral panic about cults. Personal friends have suggested he tends to see cults everywhere due to his experience with the moonies (essentially, “when you only have a hammer, everything starts to look like a nail”).

And, on a personal note, as a fellow cult survivor myself, a member of multiple groups frequently targeted by conspiracy theories that use the same rhetoric he does (including the exact conspiracy theory he quite literally promotes himself), and just someone with a general interest in/familiarity with conspiracist & popsci kooks & grifters, the lengths that Steve Hassan has gone to brand himself as not just a cult expert, but THE cult expert (even making his social media handle literally just “cultexpert”) and the amount that he uses heavily loaded, clichéd, & hyperbolic rhetoric such as “mind control psy ops” about anything from Trump to gender-affirming care just smacks of “everything is MK Ultra” & raises so so many red flags

it just seems like the cult focused version of the narcissistic/empath pop-psychobabble that’s been going around for so long

America has a weird relationship with cults where they’re terrified of small cults (or organizations they think are cults) but completely normalized massive cults that hurt many more people (eg: LDS Church, Jehovah’s Witnesses, the Amish, Scientology, most Megachurches)

[itsminjify]

(🪽)⋆ ࣪ 午 : RICH BOY ENHYPEN CHASING YOU ────𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗅𝖽.

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝑖𝐒 ✶ rich boy!enhypen x fem!readerㅤ｡｡ fluff suggestive. & 14OOwc. : kissing, skinship, petnames ── ARCHiVE

( minji says ) : my first sfw fic ㅠㅠ, some of these are based on real-life scenarios !! i had a rich boy pinning after me before back in my 1st year at uni... it was not as cute as this though

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚

he leans against his car, arms crossed, that stupid smirk playing on his lips. the soft glow of the streetlights dances across his face, making him look unfairly good. rich boy charm and all, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. you roll your eyes, but the heat creeping up your neck betrays you.

"you’re late," you say, trying to sound annoyed, but your voice wavers.

heeseung chuckles, low and smooth. "relax, princess. i’m here now, aren’t i?"

"don’t call me that," you snap, but the way his eyes flicker down to your lips tells you he won’t stop.

he pushes off the car, closing the distance between you. his cologne wraps around you, far too familiar. "why not? you like it," he murmurs, voice dipping lower.

you glare up at him, though it’s weak at best. "you’re insufferable."

he grins, "and you’re beautiful when you’re mad. what a pair we make."

before you can respond, his fingers brush against your wrist, tugging you closer. "admit it," he whispers, his voice soft but daring. "you missed me."

"heeseung, i swear—"

"swear all you want, baby," he cuts you off, his lips hovering near your ear now. "but you’re here. and you look way too good to be mad at me for long."

damn him. and damn the butterflies in your stomach.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝����𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚

“you’re hiding from me again.” jay’s voice cut through the noise as he found you tucked into a quiet corner of his sprawling house. the party was in full swing, the bass rattling the walls, red cups littering every surface like decorations.

“i’m not hiding,” you muttered, taking a slow sip from your drink.

he raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe, a red cup dangling lazily from his fingers. his tie was long gone, and the top buttons of his shirt were undone. goddamn why was he so attractive?

“baby, you disappear every time my parties get a little wild.” he smirked, stepping closer, the faint smell of cologne and alcohol trailing him. “what, too many people for you?”

“too many people for you,” you shot back, glaring at him over the rim of your cup. “you’ve been all over the place.”

he laughed, tipping his head back slightly, his golden hair catching the light. “jealous, sweetheart?”

“hardly.”

but he didn’t buy it. he crouched down to your level, his free hand finding your knee. “you know, it’s hard to have fun when the only person i want to drink with keeps running off.”

you rolled your eyes, trying not to shiver at his touch. “then maybe you should stop throwing these ridiculous parties.”

“where’s the fun in that?” he grinned, pulling you to your feet with a firm but playful tug. “come on. let me make it up to you. we’ll drink together—just us. deal?”

and somehow, with him looking at you like that, you couldn’t say no.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡

"you’re such a pain, jake," you groaned, standing on the curb while he leaned against his stupidly shiny aston martin like he owned the world. which, to be fair, he kind of did.

"but i’m your pain," he shot back, twirling the keys around his finger like some kind of movie villain. “now, get in. i’m bored.”

"it’s midnight," you deadpanned, crossing your arms. “normal people are asleep.”

he grinned, full of trouble. "good thing neither of us is normal. come on, sweetheart. just one ride. you, me, and 600 horsepower."

you raised an eyebrow. "and what happens when we crash because you’re too busy flirting to look at the road?"

"oh, you wound me." he pressed a hand to his chest like you’d insulted his honor. “i’m an excellent driver. but if you’re scared, i could always hold your hand.”

"you’re so annoying," you muttered, but your feet were already moving.

"that’s my girl," he said, throwing open the passenger door with a flourish.

"i’m not your girl," you shot back, sliding into the seat anyway. the leather was ridiculously soft—of course it was.

he climbed in, tossing you a wink as he revved the engine, the car practically purring. “keep telling yourself that, doll.”

and then he took off, speeding through empty streets like he was allergic to rules, laughing every time you yelled at him to slow down. but when he reached over, casually lacing his fingers with yours on the console, you didn’t pull away.

"admit it," he said, grinning like the devil. "you’re having fun."

you rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away. "shut up and drive, jake."

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡

you shouldn’t even be here. sunghoon texted you two hours ago: “you free?” and now you’re in a chanel store watching him do what he does best—flaunt his ridiculous wealth.

“these?” he holds up a pair of earrings you barely glanced at five minutes ago.

“yeah, they’re pretty,” you reply, trying to stay unbothered.

fifteen minutes later, he’s signing off on half the store. you cross your arms, glaring as he grins, a devilish glint in his eye.

“what the hell is wrong with you?” you hiss. “i didn’t ask for all this!”

“you didn’t have to, sweetheart.” he steps closer, his hand brushing your arm like it’s casual, but it sends a shiver down your spine.

“sunghoon,” you warn, but your voice falters when he tilts his head, studying you like he’s amused by your attempt at resistance.

“don’t act like you don’t love it,” he murmurs, his tone low, teasing. “one little compliment and i’m ready to buy out the whole store. what does that say about me, huh?”

“that you’re an idiot,” you quip, even though your cheeks are warming under his gaze.

he chuckles, stepping into your space. “an idiot who knows exactly how to make you melt.”

his fingers trail down your arm, his smirk deepening when you don’t pull away. “relax, baby. it’s just a little fun.”

“you’re trouble,” you mutter.

“and yet,” he says, leaning in close, “you keep coming back.”

the worst part? he’s not wrong.

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗪𝗢𝗢

you’re scrolling through your phone when it pings—a text from sunoo.

sunoo: speeding to your house rn. 30 seconds, pretty girl.

you blink at the screen, heart skipping a beat. you barely have time to process before the doorbell rings.

opening the door, you’re met with sunoo’s ridiculously perfect smirk. his car, some expensive foreign model, is parked crookedly in your driveway, headlights still on. he’s dressed in a white button-down, sleeves rolled up, and jeans that fit too well.

“didn’t think you’d actually show up,” you say, trying to sound unimpressed, but the way his eyes flicker over you, taking in your oversized hoodie and bare legs, makes your face heat up.

“what can i say? i missed you,” he drawls, leaning casually against the doorframe. “besides, you look way too cute to be sitting home alone. couldn’t let that happen, could i, pretty girl?”

you roll your eyes, but your stomach flips at the pet name. “you’re insane. what if i wasn’t home?”

he grins, stepping closer, his cologne clouding your senses. “then i’d wait. or maybe climb through your window. dramatic enough for you?”

“absolutely not.”

his fingers brush your chin, tilting your face up. “oh, come on. you love it when i’m dramatic. admit it.”

“sunoo��”

“shut up and say you love me,” he interrupts.

you hate how he leaves you breathless every time.

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡

jungwon leans against the sleek black car parked outside your favorite boutique, arms crossed, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips. the sunlight hits his tailored shirt just right, giving him that effortless rich boy glow. you hate how good he looks.

“this one?” you hold up a dress, simple but elegant, and he tilts his head like he’s considering it.

“try it on,” he says, voice low, but there’s a glint in his eyes that screams he’s already imagining you in it. “actually, try all of them on. i’ll decide which one i like best.”

“jungwon,” you sigh, giving him a pointed look. “i don’t need you to buy me anything.”

he steps closer, the space between you shrinking as his cologne wraps around you like a second skin. “but i want to,” he murmurs, his lips quirking up. “you’re not gonna deprive me of seeing you look drop-dead gorgeous, are you, baby?”

your cheeks heat at the pet name, and you swat his chest lightly. “you’re insufferable.”

“and you love it,” he quips, grabbing your wrist gently before you can pull away. his fingers brush against yours, lingering just enough to send a shiver up your spine. “besides, you deserve nice things. let me spoil you.”

he leans in, his voice dropping to a whisper near your ear. “just admit you like having me wrapped around your finger.”

“who said that?” you shoot back, but your smile betrays you.

“me,” he replies smoothly, grinning as he takes the dress from your hand. “now go try this on, sweetheart. i want to see my girl look perfect.”

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜

your birthday party is too crowded, the kind of rich-kid chaos you can’t fully escape. you’re by the dessert table when you feel him before you see him—riki’s cologne, his stupidly expensive leather jacket brushing your arm.

“happy birthday, sunshine.” his voice is all smooth confidence, and when you glance over, he’s already smirking at you.

“what are you doing here?” you ask, pretending not to notice the way his hair looks unfairly good, messy like he rolled out of bed but somehow perfect.

“celebrating, obviously.” he pops a chocolate into his mouth like he owns the place. “where’s my birthday kiss?”

you scoff. “it’s my birthday.”

“exactly.” he steps closer, his voice dropping. “so i’m giving you one.”

“absolutely not.” you narrow your eyes, trying to ignore the way his hand casually settles on your hip, thumb brushing circles over the fabric of your dress. “who even invited you?”

“your mom loves me, didn’t you know?” he grins, all teeth and trouble. “she said, ‘riki, please crash her party and make her blush.’ her exact words, promise.”

“you’re so full of it.” you shake your head, but your pulse quickens when he leans in, his breath warm against your ear.

“admit it,” he murmurs, “you’d miss me if i wasn’t here.”

you hate that he’s right. but before you can retort, he tilts your chin up, his lips brushing the corner of your mouth. “happy birthday, sunshine,” he whispers, and just like that, he’s walking away, leaving you standing there, flustered and furious.

[tsuutarr]

Tavern Owner Orc x New Hire Reader

I got to participate in the lovely Ozzgin's Secret Santa Event!! This one is for @tranquilo-antique-apothecary!!

Content is about 1K words of him being down bad for you <3

Sekkrad has always liked the bustling atmosphere of taverns, rich with rambunctious laughter and delicious food. After every win or loss, Sekkrad and his comrades would settle down at their favorite tavern, almost as if it were their second home. Maybe that was why he decided to open a quaint tavern after retiring from his warrior duties.

Despite his retirement, Sekkrad has always kept himself in shape. Working out has been engraved into his body, but beyond that, it’s also because his patrons can get quite rowdy at times. Plus, it’s helpful to be athletic when you’re working as much as he is. That said…

He really could use some help.

So, he puts up a flyer seeking an employee. As expected, there are some pretty good candidates. What’s unexpected, however, is you. You’re just so cute that Sekkrad literally stopped thinking when he first saw you walk through the tavern’s doors. He’s not even sure how he got through interviewing you, but somehow he did. And, just his luck, you’re a great candidate – exactly what he’s looking for! A good personality, a solid resume, and a cute face… so of course he hires you.

But on second thought – maybe it wasn’t his best idea. You look too adorable in the tavern’s uniform (that uniform does not usually look that good). And he practically blanks out every time you’re around him. You just look so soft and huggable. Plus that smile? It’s a killer. Thankfully, he somehow manages to guide you through your tasks and answer questions with a blank face (that he is desperately trying to control).

As he’s mulling about how he’s supposed to act around you, he notices you struggling to reach up to get a bottle of bourbon on one of the shelves. Without a second thought, he reaches over you, pressing his muscular body against your softer one.

“Here,” he grunts, voice low, as sirens whir in his head over how good your body feels against his. It’s like you fit perfectly against him.

“Thank you!” you respond, smile bright. Oh, Gods. You’re going to kill him.

He nods. “If y’need anything else, let me know.”

With that said, he moves to the storage in the back. He almost slams his head into the bag of flour, but reigns himself in after remembering how expensive flour is nowadays. Instead, he picks up some more syrup for his cocktails, willing himself to behave.

Despite the turmoil your presence brings to him, he manages to get through the day with relative ease. Hiring you really was the right choice – you’re an excellent worker. Smart, quick on the uptake, easy on the eyes – you’re just the perfect hire.

As he closes shop, wiping a wine glass clean, he watches as you wipe down the last table, a feeling of fondness spreading through his chest at how much of a hard worker you are. As you finish up, he prepares a sweet cocktail for you, before motioning you over.

“Good job,” he says, passing the cocktail to you.

“Thank you!”

He nods, motioning for you to sit. “Wait there.”

“Yessir,” you respond, saluting before you sit down. You watch as he disappears into the kitchen in the back, the sweet taste of your cocktail spreading over your tongue pleasantly.

It only takes him a few moments to come back with a plate of warm food. He places it in front of you.

“Eat up,” he murmurs, crossing his arms. “You were a great help today.”

Your cheeks heat up, making Sekkrad want to scream – you’re just so stinking adorable.

“I’m glad!” you beam, making his lips twitch up into a smile involuntarily. 

The way you eat his food also makes him feel warm and happy – it’s always a treat when someone enjoys his food.

“It was delicious!” you tell him once you’re done eating.

“Let me know what y’like to eat,” he says, looking pleased as you polish off his food. “I’ll make it for you next time.”

Eagerly, you tell him your favorite food, which he files away for later. He takes your empty dishes, which you try to protest, saying that you’ll clean up after yourself. He’s having none of it, though, and cleans up promptly as you finish off your cocktail.

“I’ll walk you home,” he offers while wiping his hands off on his apron. “It’s late.”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly impose.”

Sekkrad doesn’t want to seem pushy, not when he really doesn’t want you to hate him, but he’s more concerned for your safety than anything. “You wouldn’t be imposing,” he replies, trying to make his voice softer. “I just want t’make sure my new hire’s safe.”

“Well…” you look up at him and Sekkrad has to look behind you so that he won’t combust. “...I’d appreciate it, thank you! I’ll go get my things.”

“Yeah,” he responds, watching as you go to the back to get your things. When you reappear, he straightens his back, motioning to the door. “Ready?”

“Yessir!” you say, starting your journey back to your home.

Your walk back with him is quiet and peaceful as everyone else is asleep. That, and Sekkrad has never been much of a talker, but he’s especially nervous around you. He’s not entirely sure how he’s supposed to talk to you, so he opts not to. Besides, you seem content to walk beside him quietly (and it’s just… nice to see how comfortable you look beside him). Despite his nervousness, he’s actually pretty content himself.

In fact, when you two arrive at your home, Sekkrad is almost disappointed. Still, he got you home safe and nothing was really amiss, so he can’t complain.

“Rest up,” he says, nodding at you. “I’ll see you at night.”

“I’ll be there dark and early,” you grin.

He can’t help but crack a smile at that. “Good.”

With a small laugh and a final wave, you enter your home. Sekkrad lingers until he’s fully sure you’re safe inside, before turning his heels to walk back to the tavern with light steps.

He really, really can’t wait to see you again.

[vampyr-ss]

family outing | t. fushiguro

authors note: happily holidays freaks.

summary: toji decides to take his pretty little stepdaughter out for a picnic

pairing: toji fushiguro x stepdaughter!reader

wc: 4k

warnings: smut under the cut + dark content (stepcest) + public sex + spitting + pussy/ass eating + mating press + breeding kink + comparison + dumbification + dacryphilia + ‘daddy’ + creampie + overstimulation + infidelity + praise + degrading + squirting + age gap (15 years) + slut shaming + lmk if i missed anything mwah

others: inspired by these videos: 1 2, unedited

toji never really cared for your mother. she was decent, had a good job and held his attention for long enough. it didn’t take a genius to know you hated her, though. you were hostile whenever you were home and spent most of your time far away from her in the mansion you called home.

you were home for your brief holiday before you began grad school, and toji had failed to keep his eyes off of you from the beginning. when he came home to were laying on a pool chair wearing the tiniest fucking bikini he’s ever seen. you’d barely looked over your sunglasses to greet him. that was the first time he wanted to bend you over, though excitedly not the last.

you barely spoke to anyone while you were home despite your mother pestering you about getting to know toji. they got married while you were out of the country, not that you’d bothered making an effort to see her or him anyway. however, toji was enjoying watching you shift in false discomfort when your mom suggested you two go off and do something together while she works. he watches the way your legs cross and your eyes light up albeit subtly. that’s why he takes the perfect opportunity to smile evenly at your mother.

“we could go out for a picnic. it’ll be an easy way to get along. everyone likes food.” toji’s lips quirk up into something more sinister, but no one seemed to notice but you. you arch an eyebrow at him and glance down at your phone briefly for the time. “it’s almost 4, a little later for lunch don’t you think? plus, it’s getting dark soon.” excuses. toji clicks his tongue in false approval, knowing damn well you’re trying your best not to be alone with him. and you are. because you have no idea what you’ll do if you’re left with him.

“you afraid of the dark, sweetheart?” he snarks easily at you, jutting his chin slightly. you puff air from your nose, rolling your eyes irritatedly at him. oh, how he wished to make them roll differently. “no. i'm worried about the people wandering parks at night.” oh? toji smiles but decides against voicing the nasty thought that ran through his head. “listen, we’ll head out to the park and you can go ahead on to work. don’t worry about us, honey. we’ll get along just fine.” toji’s eyes cut to you briefly as he speaks but most of his words are focused on your mom.

oblivious to the rising tension between you two, she smiles and claps her hands excitedly. “good! good! okay, i really have to go but i love you two. send me pictures and be safe!” she kisses the side of your head (much to your dismay) before kissing toji. she’s out of the door faster then you can blink and you slowly realize exactly what you’ve gotten yourself into. toji watches you carefully before he decides whether he wants to make his next move now or later. your legs are tensing, he can see that because of those tiny fucking shorts you have on. you’re biting down on your lip and scrolling aimlessly on your phone.

he steps closer to the couch and hesitates, looking down at you before resting his hands on your shoulders. “i think you should go get ready,” he purrs, letting his hands slide forward just slightly. you jolt but pretend that you hadn’t, swallowing thickly. “don’t need to stay out late, you know. we don’t know who might be wandering the park at night.” suddenly you hate yourself for speaking earlier but also thank yourself because the chills running down your spine are unimaginable.

"you're right." you murmur in response. "maybe we shouldn't go at all, would be much easier." you side-eye him out of the corner of your eye. toji ignores how you're glaring at him, settling for leaning down to whisper in your ear. "i'm going to put some finger food in one of those cooling bags your mom has. by the time i'm done, you better be down here. understood?" his voice is light, but there's a certain edge to it that makes you sit up straight.

you swallow and turn to face him fully. you've given up on distracting yourself with your phone, your heart is fluttering and your pussy clenching at his tone. "whatever." your voice shakes but you ignore it for the sake of your sanity. toji's jaw clenches but he doesn't work to say much. you finally stand to push past him on the other side of the couch, glancing up at him briefly as you go.

toji felt irritated, but he decided it was all in due time. he'd have his way with you one way or another. and this stupid little date would be perfect. perfect for him to fill your cunt.

that's exactly how you found yourself on your stomach, clawing at the blanket toji had oh-so gently sat down earlier. his strong hands grip the fat of your ass cheeks, spreading them so he can spit on your asshole. you clench subconsciously, whining softly at the foreign feeling. "shut up." toji hisses as he watches the glob of spit slide from your asshole and down your already wet folds.

"you're already showing me this fucking hole in public, you wanna get caught too? fucking slut." his words go straight to your pussy as it clenches around nothing. his tongue slides around the skin near your asshole. he teases you with long slow licks nearing closer and closer to your puckered hole. he wants to ease his fingers inside your ass and threaten to fuck the tight hole, but he needs to know how your cunt feels. he needs to know how tight the pussy you've been teasing him with is.

you dig your face impossibly deeper into the soft blanket underneath you. your fingers are already clenching the blanket and if you moan any louder someone will know exactly what's going on in your little secluded section of the park. toji's ministrations don't cease at your whines. instead, he slips his tongue in your ass while his fingers dig into your ass cheeks to pull them apart further.

"pretty fucking ass." he mumbles, pulling away briefly to admire the slick forming. "you've never had this ass eaten before? tell me, baby." you tilt your head back briefly to attempt to make eye contact with him, but this notion fails when he places harsh smacks on both of your ass cheeks. your back bends as you moan with a shaky hand covering your mouth.

he watches your ass and pussy clench around nothing, begging to be filled. toji traces his fingers along your pussy lips, laughing darkly when your cunt twitches in anticipation. "don't be a slut, baby. wait patiently and i'll give you what you want." the words are ironic coming from him because if it was up to him, he'd have fucked you into the ground by now. however, you looked so fucking good and you deserved to be ruined. so he'd ruin you.

his fingers slowly slide into your cunt, eliciting a loud squish! as they enter you. somehow there's already cum sliding down his fingers and he lets out the harshest scoff. "how long has it been? barely started eating this-" he emphasizes his point by thumbing at your asshole. "fucking hole and the other one 's wet? slutty, slutty baby. should've fucked you sooner."

if you weren't already feeling the effects of toji on you you'd have refuted his claim. he shouldn't have thought of fucking you at all...but you liked it. you wanted your stepdad to take time out of his day, out of his work week to fuck you. you wanted to feel bad and be scared to get caught as he filled you the exact way you needed to be filled. you wanted to sob an cry while his cock stretched you beyond what you’re used to.

toji’s tongue returns to your ass while his fingers slowly begin to pump in and out of you. his tongue ignores the resistance of your hole, pushing through to lick sloppily at the inside. every time his tongue slips inside it comes back out with a soft pop!, and the sound mixes with the loud wet noises coming from your poor cunt. toji’s fingers start to pick up the deeper he begins to get in your ass.

toji shifts slightly from behind you, adjusting to he can use his free hand to put his thumb in your ass. he laughs at the way you clench around his fingers. you’re so fucking needy. your pussy sucks his fingers in deeper every time he pulls out to thrust back in. “you always this fucking tight? or you just been waiting for this?” you whine, freeing your hand from your mouth to grip his wrist.

“i haven’t-! no! i’m not like that!” you cry desperately. toji snorts, pulling his thick fingers out of you to watch your reaction. your hips stutter, pausing briefly before shaking back against him to search for that fullness you’d lost. “‘not like that’? this pussy’s hungry for me and i ain’ even fed her properly. do you dream about this?” you shake your head again, parting your lips to argue with him when he shoves his fingers back into you.

you cry out again, softer this time despite your lack of secrecy the second he slipped his fingers into your cunt. toji laughs, kissing up your neck and across your jaw before landing at the corner of your lips. “shhh, baby girl.” he coos, kissing your lips as his fingers begin to piston in and out of you. your moans are swallowed my his hungry lips as they move against yours, sloppy and uncoordinated kisses being exchanged between the two of you. toji’s tongue slides against your lips before finding its way inside your mouth, wrapping around your tongue sloppily. you groan louder when his fingers find that spot deep inside of you, roughly pressing at the soft spot.

your hips twitch erratically at the newfound pleasure of having your g-spot abused. toji pulls away from your mouth, watching the fucked expression on your face as he dug his fingers further in you. he watches the way your eyes water and your lips pout before parting into a ‘o’ shape. you’re so fucking pretty, he really just cannot help himself. “behave and i’ll let you cum the first time.” he purrs sweetly, pressing a kiss to your parted lips.

toji doesn’t give you a real chance to reply. by the time you’ve barely come to your senses to reply, you feel his hot tongue nudging its way back into you. his fingers pump into you in quick, short pumps as his tongue assaults your asshole. he pulls away to spit harshly onto your open hole, chuckling lowly to himself as it winks back at him. you’re overwhelmed. you’ve never had someone pay so much attention to your ass, let alone lick at it like you’re some kind of dessert. you push your ass further into his face, desperate for the feeling to continue.

you start to feel that burning feeling in your tummy, your heart’s pounding and you temporarily forget you’re outside. you’ve forgotten toji’s words about being quiet but you still find yourself covering your mouth. this feels wrong, but it feels so so good. you sob loudly as a third finger slides into your pussy, glancing back at toji who only meets your gaze. you can see the smugness in his face and it does little to nothing to deter your orgasm. your face pinches, thighs tensing as the burning sensation overcomes you. “‘m gonna- oh fuck!”

the noise that leaves your throat is inhuman. you rock forward at the strength of your orgasm as your cunt flutters around toji’s fingers. you thought he’d stop but you can still feel his fingers pumping in and out of you still. toji’s tongue somehow finds itself deeper into your ass as you cum. the sensation renders you speechless, your voice escaping you. “don’t worry baby we’re not done.” toji shifts behind you, sliding his fingers from your drooling cunt. he presses a wet kiss to your asshole before pulling away completely. he spreads his fingers to watch your slick nearly keep them together, thick strings of cum spreading between each finger.

“don’t spent too much time coming down. i still have to fuck this pretty pussy.” he slaps your pussy for emphasis, laughing when you find your voice again to whine at the pain. "no toji. can't" you mumble into the blanket. your chest moves rapidly as you try to gather yourself. despite your protests, your pussy clenches as the cold air hits you with toji moving out of the way. your hips jut much to your annoyance, hips shifting forward and away from imaginary fingers.

"shh, sweet girl. daddy's gonna give ya what ya need." he murmurs, laughing to himself when your asshole clenched. toji teases your pussy, sliding his fat tip up and down your pretty, drenched pussy. he watches as his tip starts to glisten from your slick, the way his cock slides easily against you from how wet you are. he slaps his cock against you one more time before he decides to pull away, a sly smile tugging at his lips.

he slaps your ass with a sense of finality, gripping your hips. "turn over, baby girl. c'mon. don't make me wait." you push up on shaky arms to turn yourself over. somehow, the top of your sundress had stayed up and you were hoping he'd allow you that sense of conservation. knowing toji, though, he wouldn't. and he didn't. the second you turned over his hand was on the top of your dress, pulling it down to free your tits.

toji palms your tits roughly, pulling at your nipples as he ground his cock against you. his eyes flicker over you, the way your lips are parted and drool escapes them. he watches your lashes flutter as you blink in a futile attempt to become more aware. your dress is a little damp from both of your fluids, and your pussy looks so so pretty in this position. he's won the jackpot, he thinks. if only he married this pussy.

"enough. you ready for this, pretty girl?" you grunt harshly under him, glancing up at him to nod. toji slaps his cock against you one more time before beginning to slide into you. his fat tip begins to press into you, forcing a soft sob from your throat. it's an uncomfortable feeling because he's so big. you've been fucked before—plenty of times—but toji's cock is stretching you wide enough for you to be nervous. he'd had you on your stomach so long you hadn't gotten a chance to see how big he was. clearly, he was big enough to split you in half.

"toji..” you pause to frown up at him. “‘s not gonna fit.” he's nearly as thick as a soda can and long enough for you to be concerned. still, you peek at him through your lashes to beg him to stop or slow down. toji only rolls his eyes. "we're gonna make it fit, pretty baby. can you do that f'me? hmmm?" he settles his hands on either side of you, leaning down to brush his lips over yours. your eyes shift over his face, flickering up to his eyes before slowly making their way down to his lips.

if you hadn't gulped already toji would be convinced you were joking. you were questioning the fit but the way you were squeezing him--the way you gushed, toji knew you weren't scared. his hips shift as he pushes further into you. he smashes his lips against yours before you can cry out, quieting your moans and loud pleas. he knows you can take it because you're his good girl. you'd just have to prove it. "tight fucking cunt." he hisses against your mouth, shifting his hips forward once more. "not even halfway and she's tryna bully me out. why 's that, hm? she too shy? can't take this fucking dick?"

you whine against his lips, sniffling softly as tears begin to spill. "no, no! you're too big, toji. i can't- can't take it! please!" your cries fall on deaf ears as toji presses down on your hips to slide further into you. he watches you squirm with a satisfied grin tugging at his lips. your body is warm and the tears that slip from your eyes are scorching. he watches in pure satisfaction as your cunt clenches tightly around him the further he digs into you. "bet this pussy wasn't shy when you were in college." he tuts at you, releasing one side of your hip to spank your clit.

he relishes the way your hips twitch and your back arches. you're so fucking responsive. "remember your mom said you're a sorority girl. how many times were you gettin' fucked in the bathroom? now you wanna tell me 's too big? you're my little slut, baby. you can take it." you're not gonna tell him when you can take it and, frankly, toji doesn't care. his eyebrows twitch in annoyance at your escalating whines. you've come to your senses because you're pushing at his stomach. your eyes are closed in both discomfort and pleasure, and tears are starting to accumulate on the blanket.

"fucked those college boys with no problem but the second a real man tries to take this pussy you wanna cry." he rolls his eyes in pure irritation, gripping your hips tightly so he can finally slam you down on his cock. he groans in relief as your warmth surrounds him fully. his cock twitches inside of you and he already knows he's fucked. you're so fucking wet, so fucking tight. he can't take it. he moves his hands to slide underneath your thighs, pushing them up so that he has more room.

"move...toji please." your voice is so soft he would've missed it if the wind was blowing. your stepdad tuts at you, spreading your legs further to settle between them. "please what? what's my name?" he watches the conflict in your eyes. you're contemplating if you want to give in (as if you hadn't already). your eyes flutter shut before opening again. "please," you pause, a disgusted frown pulling at your lips. "daddy please? fuck me! i need it- need you so bad."

a warm feeling starts to brew in his chest after your little declaration. toji hadn't given a fuck when your mother mentioned she had an adult daughter but now? god was he grateful he met her. he would've never found this pretty pussy on his own. "since you asked so nicely, princess. gonna take it realll good f'me, huh? slutty fucking pussy." he practically purrs his words to you. toji doesn't bother starting slow, immediately starting with pounding in and out of your cunt.

your cunt makes the nastiest, wettest noise as toji's cock slides in and out of you. he's not going nearly as fast as he wants, but your pussy gushes around him nonetheless. your back arches off the ground as his tip kisses your cervix. he keeps hitting deep inside you every time he pulls out halfway just to fuck right back into you. "oh my god.." you murmur. you shift your hips in an attempt to fuck yourself forward as he continues to pound into you.

"oh my fuck- daddy please! harder! need it!" you're practically sobbing for him to fuck you harder. your fingers press weakly against his stomach and you find yourself unable to decide if you really want him to go harder. your pussy feels so full--you feel so fucking full and you feel like you're going to explode. "whatever you say, baby. been so fucking good." toji leans over, pressing your legs back further. his lips attach to yours in the neediest kiss you've ever taken part of. it's sloppy and desperate and it's so fucking good.

your tongue slides against his in near perfection, one of your hands reaching up to grasp at his hair. you pull him closer to you, jutting your hips against his. toji's pounding is incessant, and your cry against his lips. "let go of my legs, toji. i want you to cum in me." you whine against his lips. toji releases your legs reluctantly, letting you wrap them around his waist. he grunts as you push him impossibly deeper inside of you. "fuck i should've met you sooner." his hisses, pressing down on your stomach. "should've married this fucking cunt. could be inside you for days, keep cumming inside of you, get you pregn- oh fuck!"

you press toji inside of you to keep him there. your fingers grasp his hair tightly, forcing his lips to remain against yours. he's groaning despite your attempts to keep the both of you quiet, his hips beginning to stutter and your fingers beginning to twitch. "then fucking do it. fill me up daddy, please." he laughs against you, pulling back to slam back into you. "yeah, baby. knew this fucking pussy would want me. i knew you'd fucking love this." you nod dumbly, muttering incoherently about how you need him.

toji grips your neck as his hips begin to stutter. your pussy tightens around him and flutters as he nudges your g-spot. every time he pulls back he hits it with perfection only to push forward and kiss your cervix. you need him to cum inside you. you need it the same way you need oxygen. you just want to feel the same warmth you've craved since you met him a week ago. he's right, he should've married you. you'd give him what he wants and more. "is this pretty pussy gonna cum for me?" he's whispering so close to you that you can feel the warmth against your wet lips.

you nod hard and fast, squeezing your eyes shut as the knot in your stomach tightens. you move your hips to no real avail. he's fucked you so stupid you can barely match his rhythm. your pussy almost hurts from the stretch and the overstimulation from your first lingering orgasm. you can feel your asshole flutter whilst your pussy attempts to shut around toji's dick. "ohhh i'm gonna- fuckfuckfuck." you sob your words out, nails clawing angrily at toji's back. he doesn't let up, continuing to fuck harshly into your pussy even as he feels spurts hit the bottom of his stomach. he ignores the fact that you've squirted on his dick, fucking you like he needs it.

"this is what i needed from you. knew you weren't a brat. jus' needed to be fucked." he chuckles, though the joke is lost on you. he watches the way your eyes have rolled. your pretty lips are parted, but no sound leaves them. you're done for and he's about to cum so deep in you that he knows it'll take. toji slams his hips forward, his balls slapping against your ass as he finally cums. he glances down to see the white ring of your cream at the base of his dick, now watching his own cum drip down. he can see your pussy twitch and he presses meanly on your clit just to watch you practically howl.

"too much." you murmur, eyes opening just slightly to see his face. toji presses a kiss to your lips, licking at them to let himself in. he gives you one more sloppy kiss, relishing in the after of the harsh orgasms the two of you had. "you did so good." he coos, pressing kisses to your tear-stained cheeks. "good fucking girl. c'mon, we'll go home so you can take a bath." you grunt, blinking your eyes completely open to watch his face. he was looking at you differently. softer. maybe you'd like having a stepdaddy after all.

[thekaratcake-blog]

Okay lets start immediately with, I'm not using race as a tool, crying hate doesn't absolve you of wrong doing and spreading misinformation, I don't need to be black to tell you it's shitty to justify the shit used to ensalve your ancestors, that's just obviously fucked up

Once again you immediately go to the rules for hebrew slaves, the year of jubilee only applies to hebrew slaves, the death penalty is only for kidnapping, whereas selling and buying slaves is explicitly allowed, but they are generally instead the children of the slave traders or of course, prisoners of war or slaughter, that of course does not make it better and is where a lot of the african slaves in america came from

You clearly missed my point about the shellfish, it's that god can prohibit shellfish but not slavery, you are seriously arguing that god will tell people not to eat a certain food but not bother to say you can't own slaves, I do not lack maturiy but I guess your opinion is noted, if of course you are using personal views of me as a person to try to dismiss my points however, that is what we call and "ad hominem attack" the slavery commanded in the bible for non hebrew slaves is of course, directly equivelent to american chattel slavery, stop using hebrew slave laws, you're seriously arguing that because they treated people in their group better it's fine and ignoring the ones outside of the group that were treat exactly like your ancestors

Job was literally punished and tortured by god to prove a point, that's fucked up no matter what you believe and it's also god directly killng children

My grammar and spelling is perfectly fine, and you have still failed to give a reason why we should take exodus 20 as direct command of god, but exodus 21 directly following it as anything other than that, you have just decided that arbitrarily because it fits your worldview, whereas it's context and place in the bible would dictate that it is, infact, divine instruction

Also if your god is that sort that even allows slavery to happen, that's fucked up, but you still haven't given me any good reason why it was allowed and not commanded, because again, everything else would say otherwise

You did a great job of dodging the questions about the slave's bible or god just murdering children

Kinda funny how you only address the points you think you have an excuse for, and what exactly implies I "desire so badly for my question to be answered" I honestly couldn't care less because I know the answer will avoid the real bad stuff and just use someone else's bad apologetics, however, of course, it'll reflect quite poorly on you and your religion if you can't answer these questions, so I'll lay it out again

Tell me the difference between the rules for specifically non hebrew slaves and american chattel slavery, as none of the rules you've mentioned up to this point apply to non hebrew slaves

Explain the existence of the slave's bible if you don't think it played a large role in american slavery

"Well we can't understand god so whatever he does is fine" is just a terrrible cop out, but I get it, you can't actually justify his horrible action so the best you can do with "well we just can't understand it"

And if you want, lil bonus question if you of course, are even able to respond or give a shit to, what's up with god killing children? The first born sons of the egyptians? And demanding a sacrifice of a lamb and the smearing of it's blood on the doorway to mark the children he is not to kill

And bonus 2, just the entire slaughter of the caananites

[paceprompting]

cinnamon buns

written for ‘christmas’ | wc: 736 # | steddie | rated: t | cw: no archive warnings apply | tags: post season four, pre-relationship, fluff, steve has a crush on eddie, and vice versa, christmas together

@steddieholidaydrabbles

Wayne always managed to get Christmas off. Every year.

Eddie didn’t know what exactly he promised in return to manage it, but ever since little eight-year-old Eddie Munson shuffled into the trailer to live with his uncle, every Christmas had been theirs.

Wayne always woke up first, setting out the presents collected throughout the year and hidden under his bed—and Eddie hadn’t peeked since that first year—nursing his first cup of coffee while in his pajamas until Eddie emerged.

When he was still little, he’d bum-rush the tree and tear open the presents, but soon the little traditions emerged.

Playing Rudolph and Year Without a Santa Claus on VCR tapes that survived years of rewatches, but no interdimensional portals.

Cinnamon buns from tins for breakfast, always burnt around the edges and covered in icing—but they split the best one from the middle.

And the last present was always, always Wayne’s. It took several years for Eddie’s wrapping skills to actually look like the box he was wrapping, but Wayne never said a word.

It was one of those Christmases that Eddie got his first set of dice.

Government hush money bought a decent house for them, with real insulation and top-of-the-line boiler. Just in time for Christmas. Wayne actually had a real hiding place for the presents this time, and no matter how hard Eddie had looked, he’d have to wait until next year to find it.

They could get real lights, too. Not just the couple of strings that wouldn’t overload the trailer’s generator.

They also had to, since those lights were carted off to some Area 51 with the rest of the things the government wanted to pretend had never happened until maybe they could use it to their own benefit.

One other thing had changed this Christmas, too.

There were three of them this year.

Eddie heard the crunch of tires on asphalt from the kitchen. He was supposed to be setting up the ham to go in the oven—which he’d never done in his life, yet he’d volunteered—and he’d only gotten as far as preheating the oven.

So, he headed straight for the front door, sans any sort of jacket or shoes.

Eddie had hated the cold most of his life.

When you lived in a metal box with shitty heating on a good day, the cold months meant shivering through showers, mainlining coffee just to be warm for a couple minutes and layering blankets because sweating was better than losing a toe.

But there was something about Steve Harrington in the cold.

Or, more specifically, in the snow.

He eased out of the driver’s side of the Beemer, running a hand through his hair. His shoulders filled out the blue denim of his jacket, which matched his jeans—which stretched over his pert butt.

Not that Eddie was looking. For too long.

Maybe Eddie liked the cold a little bit more now.

But the whole reason Steve had bent over in the first place was to bring out a few things from his backseat. He held them behind his back as he straightened, and Eddie pouted as he trudged through the snow onto the porch.

His cheeks were pink when joined Eddie by the front door, ducking his head as he offered a hello.

“Hey, Eds,” he said.

Eddie leaned over to try and peer at what Steve had behind his back, eyes widening when Steve brought out a Tupperware that looked like it had several stacks of cookies, warm enough to steam up the inside.

“For me?” he asked, raising his brows.

Steve let him take the cookies with no comment.

“No, I thought it’d be rude not to bring something.” He shrugged, and it took Eddie a moment to realize that his other arm was still bent behind him. Eddie stared pointedly, and Steve smiled before revealing a more Christmas-y gift—in red and green plaid wrapping paper and white ribbon. “This is, though.”

Eddie immediately swapped cookies for the present, holding it close with a wide grin.

Steve cocked his head, sliding his hands (probably cold) into his pockets. “You’re not going to open it?”

He propped his present on his hip and reached forward to grab onto Steve’s wrist. With probably wild eyes, Eddie met Steve’s gaze, waited until Steve leaned forward just a bit and said, with every bit of seriousness, “We haven’t had the cinnamon buns, yet.”

[starvu]

Romantic Lover || s. reid

spencer wasn't a fan of love at first sight until he saw the new employee at his favorite coffee shop. well, things can change throughout the seasons.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

genre: fluff

content warnings: none :))

word count: 2,9k

a/n: i'm just trying to write, my english is not perfect, i'm not native, but i hope it won't bother you :)) i came up with this completely by accident when i was listening to romantic lover from eyedress (i was trying to make it pretty, but using tumblr is hard lol)

She's a killer,

one look is all it takes.

He never believed in fate, destiny or anything like that, but this time it was different. He thought, that nothing can surprise him, especially when he was buying morning, too sweet coffee in his favorite coffee shop at some late autumn, nearly early winter day. There were no leaves left on the trees, but autumn was not over yet. Winter was around the corner.

But something was worng. In fact, everything was wrong. Because he hated being late for work, which was exactly what he did. And he knew his trusted barista at his favorite, cozy coffee shop, but he was nowhere to be seen then. He always had the confidence that his coffee would be solid, with no unpleasant exceptions. Spencer loved things that were unchanging, constant, and certain, so the chance of a bad coffee on an already rushed day seemed cruel. Cruel coffee, undersweetened coffee, too little cream in coffee, something is wrong with the coffee.

But his heart clenched as soon as he crossed the threshold of a familiar place and you turned to him.

"Hey, good morning." You said casually with your enthusiasm. You had this attitude towards every client, wanting to brighten their day in the morning.

There you were, smiling all the time, with your navy blue nails, funky jewellery and a light brown apron tied in a neat bow at the back. You seemed to have within you all the energy of the sun, shine and warmth and you smelled like coffee. He stared at you for a moment, a little dazed by you. He wasn't used to it, but he focused on your eyes, the loose hair that fell out of your hairstyle and framed your face, his gaze wandering stupidly for a moment. It didn't sit well with his penchant for things that were permanent or unchanging. You cleared your throat slightly, wanting to snap him out of his reverie so he could order.

"Umm, yeah, good morning..." He played with his fingers nervously, his lips pressed into a line as he pondered over ordering coffee, even though he drank the same one every day. It didn't escape your notice.

His reaction didn't scare you in the slightest, even if he wasn't as enthusiastic as you were. You nodded as he placed his order, staring at him with a genuine smile. All your little behaviors were natural, unforced. He was nervous, but he couldn't take his eyes off you. And yet, this was the first time he'd seen you, and instead of his favorite barista.

Spencer felt like an idiot. Ordering coffee wasn't even a problem for him, with his not-so-best social skills, but after the first look at her, his stomach clenched. You unconsciously stared at him with your typical warmth in your eyes, and he felt smitten. Your energy, warm eyes and smile were really enough, even if it was stupid. He was stupid in that moment.

Then even ordering coffee became difficult, more difficult than mathematical equations, chemical reactions and biological cycles, with whom he had contact so often.

You didn't want to make things even more difficult for him, despite your smile, you didn't engage in unnecessary small talk with him. Instead, you silently scribbled your phone number on his paper cup with your glitter gel pen, you even drew a little smile next to the note. There was no rational explanation for it, you were simply captivated by that man. You turned around, fiddling around with the coffee machines a bit. You were still studying after deciding to change the coffee shop you worked at. You quickly poured the brown, fragrant drink into a cup, pouring a little more sugar into it, just like he asked.

"I would advise you to slow down a bit." You said a little bit quieter, as you gave him coffee cup, put the money in the cash register and handed him the freshly printed receipt. "Be careful, it's hot." You added as you focused more on the cash register than on him.

"Uhh, thank you?" He answered a little awkwardly, but he kept staring at you. He walked away after that, glancing back over his shoulder. You were still there, smiling at another customer. Were you real? You didn't seem real. Were you nice to him specifically, or were you nice to everyone?

It was only after he left the cafe that he noticed the note and felt almost as if he had been shot. The neat, round letters, or rather numbers written on the warm paper cup made him feel dazed. You had simply noticed him, dear God. Something tempted you to leave a trace, to indicate to him that you want to contact him. You looked at him and made a few small gestures like smiling, it's not big deal, he shouldn't have panicked or felt like a lovesick teenager. But one look is all it takes.

She's a killer,

and she took my breath away.

He called you. He called you in that early winter, and the feelings in yours hearts blossomed with the blooming flowers outside the window.

One late spring morning he woke up as usual. He woke up, but the spot next to him was cold. When he fell asleep the previous night, this spot had been warm. The night before, you had dinner together after he got back from a case, and you were just laying around aimlessly, talking about unimportant things. You listened to his rambling with genuine interest. You never said it bored you, you actually loved hearing it, even if sometimes you didn't fully understand it and needed more explanation. But in that morning you weren't next to him. He looked around his bedroom from his heavy eyelids and immediately felt relief.

He saw you leaning over the dark brown dresser, on which you had placed a small mirror. You were taking out of your makeup bag various colorful makeup things and shiny earrings. You painted your eyes with glitter, but bright and subtle shadow, put blush on your cheeks and tried to choose the right earrings. You blinked to apply mascara and closed your eyelids to draw a perfect line. Your lips were parted in concentration, and then you hold the bobby pins between your teeth. You tied her hair in a bun, braided it, unbraided it, tied your hair half up, half down and twisted locks on your fingers, even if it didn't stayed.

He didn't think you noticed him watching you. In reality, he was pretending to still be asleep. He didn't want to embarrass you, his eyes were slightly squinted, still sleepy as he rubbed them with his hands. He watched you quietly, and even if you wasn't doing anything special, it took his breath away. In a very simple way, you focused on bringing your image into order and composition.

Spencer finally got out of bed quietly, the floor in his apartment was creaky but he remembered perfectly how to bypass certain panels to pass silently. He stood behind you as you sat in the chair, he lightly placing his hands on either side of you head and kissing the top of your head tenderly, feeling yoir soft hair under his lips. "Morning, sweetheart. Don't worry, you already look pretty." He mumbled softly into your hair as he rested his chin on the top of your head.

You felt surprised when you suddenly heard the words and felt warmth and closeness. You thought he was still asleep. He raised his head slightly, looked in the mirror, and noticed that you was glancing at him in the mirror's reflection. He felt his heart fill with affection every time you looked at him.

"You think? I think it's all... I don't know, weird today." You answered hesitantly as you stared at your face and hair. Your gaze was focused on your appearance, and your expression was a little doubtful. You didn't always maintain that cheerful energy. Spencer quickly took a few steps, circling you, and leaned over you. He kissed the tip of your nose and both of your eyelids.

“No, you’re beautiful, everything is okay.” He tenderly tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

You smiled warmly at him. He leaned in behind you, his posture still sleepy, which you found to be an absolutely adorable and precious sight. He rested his head on your warm shoulder. He ran his fingers through your hair carefully as you continued to apply your makeup. He kept staring at you with genuine admiration. There was silence between them, a comfortable silence. He didn't say anything, taking in your appearance, the scent of your hair, and the warmth of your skin. Finally, he buried his head in the crook of your neck. You didn't have to say much to feel each other's feelings, carefully preserved and nurtured in the quietness and privacy of his apartment.

It was almost unbelievable how much he loved looking at you. He loved looking at you, he loved your personality, he loved everything about you. It almost hurt him. Your movements, how effortlessly beautiful you looked, even if you were indecisive about how you wanted to look that day and doubtful. It was almost unfair how you could take his breath away when you did nothing and didn't even try. He felt honored to be able to watch you in your quiet, peaceful moment. You just took his breath away every time, without asking his permission.

She's a killer,

romantic lover,

there is no other,

she is my lover.

With the end of spring came a warm and certain summer. Summer is always certain, warm, sunny and pleasant. Just as with each passing day the feelings between you became certain. Because spring feelings are shy, they are born like nature to life, leaves on trees and flowers blooming. But summer feelings arouse trust and conviction.

Despite this, Spencer wanted to keep your relationship private. No, he wasn't ashamed of you or yours relationship. Having learned from the past, he preferred to keep it to them, as your little secret. He wanted to separate his relationship from his professional life, not expose you to any dangers of his job, he didn't want you to be used as his weakness one day. In his eyes you deserved this whole world and all that was kind. You deserved all kindnesses.

Unaware of anything, Derek almost fought to finally find someone for Spencer. Because how long could the young genius be alone? But every excuse Spencer made just got worse and worse, after all, he was not a master of excuses. Well, he just didn't need anyone else. You were his lover. His precious and lovely, lovely girlfriend. He always told you about Morgan's failed matchmaking attempts and you just laughed at how absurd it was.

In one of those sunny summer days when they were working a case in D.C., they went to a coffee shop, Reid's favorite coffee shop on the street corner. Crossing the threshold of the familiar place, they immediately smelled the coffee, there were no more people there than usual. Spencer immediately noticed you behind the counter, smiling as usual, wearing long, white skirt and dark blue baby tee. You were focused on making coffee and taking orders, the light blue ribbon bow pinned to your hair moved slightly with each of your graceful movements. He partially held back a smile at the sight of you, and slightly felt a sudden shiver. When you noticed him, you frowned slightly. Was this his way of hiding his relationship? Coming there with a co-worker? You immediately recognized the man he came with - Morgan. From Spencer's stories and his ramblings, you knew all of his coworkers.

Derek immediately noticed you. If he was going to keep trying to matchmake his friend, he saw another opportunity. Seeing the woman effortlessly serving customers and moving between the coffee machines and the counter, the idea immediately popped into his head. It never hurts to try, right?

As they placed their order, your expression was unwavering, you leaned slightly over the counter with a smile, not even glancing in Spencer's direction, not wanting to arouse suspicion. Their relationship wasn't public, and it hadn't started long ago, only a few months earlier. But when Morgan moved from the subject of coffee to Spencer subject without hesitation, you tried to stifle your laughter. You could see Spencer's embarrassment, god, he hated it when Derek tried to set him up again. Why is he so stubborn?

You played along.

"Oh, really? I mean, I've seen him here many times, but I haven't had a chance to talk to him much. Tell me more about him." You spoke with conviction, and Spencer surreptitiously gave you a disbelieving look. "He's really that genius?" You still pretend. You had your back turned to them and made a few coffees.

You kept up your little act until the end. Partly because it was pretty funny, partly because you hadn't yet agreed on how they wanted to reveal their relationship. You were doing quite well, considering you were playing with a profiler, you didn't arouse suspicion. When you packed the coffees into cartons with handles that held four cups, and threw the stirrers and sugars into the net, you stared at the agents. After going through everything, you pointed to the paper bag. Without thinking, you began to speak. And then you let yourself down for such a simple thing.

"Oh, I threw in two extra packets of sugar for you, Spence. Normally I would just put more sugar in your coffee, but I assumed someone else might take it." You spoke with commitment as you put the cups of warm coffee into the second carton.

"Thanks." Spencer responded with little smile. Just like you forgot about Morgan's presence.

Derek just frowned, his gaze shifting from him to you. Since they barely spoke, like you said, why the sudden concern over something as simple as sugar in coffee? Strangers? Nah, not at all. Despite his confusion, he didn't try to push the subject. You exchanged a few more small, polite conversations with them before they left the coffee shop. Pretending you didn't know Specter was, ironically, quite good. Spencer glanced over his shoulder once more, and you waved at him with usual, warm smile.

The place of the case was not far, so they returned on foot. The summer sun was pleasantly warm, and the trees by the sidewalk cast shadows and a light wind. They tried to walk as fast as they could, but for Morgan there were interesting and more interesting cases.

Derek immediately looked his way, his expression still questioning. “Okay, pretty boy, what’s this about?” He asked directly. Of course, subtlety wasn’t his strong suit.

“What’s this about, what?” Reid asked with obvious embarrassment.

"The woman. The woman from the coffee shop. Don't tell me every coffee shop employee remembers you that way. 'Spence, I threw more sugar for you." His words were all direct, unvarnished. He kind of imitated your sweet voice when he said words similar to yours, teasing Spencer.

"It's... well... she- let's just not talk about it." Spencer responded with a more hesitant, uncertain tone. He didn't know that this was how their relationship would see the light of day, but their visit to this coffee shop had to end this way, he could feel it.

"Why not, what could be so terrible about it?" Morgan asked. He sensed Spencer's nervousness and this was the perfect opportunity to tease him.

Spencer felt like his back was against an imaginary wall. All the explanations seemed awful now. Besides, he had so many excuses lately. And yes, he was running out of excuses. But now he didn't have to defend himself so fiercely. Usually he had to say no, because his friend wanted to put another woman in front of him. But now he wanted to put you in front of him. Was it possible to set Spencer up with his own girl? He quickly reminded himself that the question still remained unanswered. Usually he had a million words and two million thoughts a second. But now it was all for nothing. It was always like this when it came to you, you were the killer of any ability he had to speak or think. He swallowed hard.

"Don't be surprise, okay? I don't need it. It's, uhh... She was- I mean she is- Of course she is, not was, my girlfriend. But technically speaking, I prefer to say that I'm her boyfriend and not that she is my... girlfriend." His explanations became a bit convoluted, and he started babbling a bit out of nervousness.

Morgan didn't take his eyes off him, his sudden statement was... surprising to say the least. When had he managed to find himself a girlfriend and hide her and their relationship so well without arousing any suspicion? "Girlfriend? Real girlfriend? Look at him." He patted him on the back in a brotherly gesture, and Spencer just bowed his head with a sheepish smile. "For how long? Why didn't you tell anything?"

"Oh no, don't interrogate me."

"I'm not."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I'm not."

"Come on, pretty boy. Talk to me... or rather lover boy." He laughed and pat his shoulder with his free hand. Oh god, he loves to tease him.

Spencer sighed. "Yes, real girlfriend."

"No need to be embarrassed, that's good, really good. So no more matchmaking?"

"No, no matchmaking, ever." He still smiled sheepish. Spencer didn't want anyone else, he didn't want matchmaking, he didn't want to look for anyone else, when he had you. There is no other, you are his lover.

[stray-cat-with-internet-access]

TW: angst, abusive relationship (not with Simon), toxic relationship (that´s with Simon), bruises, he is kinda mean but can you blame him?, he is your ex, curse words, no proofread we die like real men, english is not my first language wc: 1168

1:54am

He opens the door at your fifth knock and his jaw clenches at seeing you.

You have a nasty handprint bruise on your neck and he is already fuming, at the bastard who did this, but also at you. Simon´s your ex, and something keep pulling you to him every time you need aid, but never taking him back completely.

This is not the first time you run to him and he is not happy about it.

He lets you in, but curses and slam the door behind him

Coming close he backs you up against the wall, forehead close to yours

"You have to be fuckin jokin´ with me..."

His voice trembles with anger, maybe not the best approach, but he is getting tired of keep collecting your pieces back together

You avoid his gaze, a bit ashamed. You lick your lips, with no urge to start talking. He is not dumb and he already imagined what happened. Tears run down your face and that seems to anger him more.

A bitter scowl etches on his face, he is mad for many of the wrong reasons, but he is trying damn hard to keep himself in check

"Is this some sort of sick game to play with me, hm?" He whispered, voice trembling with anger “You think I like seeing you like this?”

"No!" You respond quickly, finally meeting his gaze. You felt stupid because he is right to be angry. You´ll accept any scowl and curse coming from him because deep down you know you deserve them.

"Why else would you keep coming back every damn time only for you to go back to him? To test me and see how much I still care for you? Do you get off on doing this? Don´t I have enough shit in my life?"

There it is, the bitter words finally spilling out

"Simon please, I don't have anyone else, pleas…" You yelped when he punched the door, finally backing away from you, running his hands through his hair

"I left him...for good this time..."

He stops pacing and looks at you, he doesn´t believe you, that anger rising up inside of him, why was she still doing this and why he kept letting himself drag back into her? He feels stupid

"I've heard that before"

"I swear to god" You’re trembling at this point, desperate to get some gentleness.

You showed him the backpack you were carrying, talking in whispers

"I left him the flat, I grabbed what I could and left"

There is a pang on his chest, of guilt this time, the bruise around your neck is prominent and he can't help but to feel like this time is not the same as before. He wants to touch you, to make sure you are okay, but he doesn't trust himself not to hurt you unintentionally because of his anger

"Show me your neck" He finally says through gritted teeth, his tone of voice still stern

Tears start running freely now, but you cry in silence, ashamed. You pulled the hem of the neck of your t-shirt, showing the purplish marks over your throat and clavicle

He curses again before inspecting it more closely

His eyes darken at looking at the bruises, he knows exactly who is to blame and his blood boils with rage, he is going to kill him after dealing with you, he is sure of it. He touches the purple skin gently, barely a feather caress on it, checking them out

"Does it hurt?" His voice a soft whisper now

"Only when I swallow" Hugging your arms around your middle, you look around his flat, avoiding his gaze

He denies with his head, a million thoughts racing through his head. He is still sore for your break up a year and something ago, terribly bitter that you were able to left him for his "violent" line of work and the repercussions that it left on him, but not the bastard treated you like shit. Yes, he was damaged goods, but he´d never lay a finger on you

He has to stop himself from saying something stupid, he shouldn't be this close, feeling so many things at once

"Go have a shower... " he said, walking to the kitchen to pour himself a bourbon

Walking past him with your head low you make a beeline to the bathroom. You know his place very well, and the sting of the good memories here make you cry a bit more

After undressing you hop in the shower, letting the warm water wash away your tears. The smell of his soap envelopes you, making you feel more calm

Simon is a difficult man, the fact that he even let you in after you fucked up so many times says more about his feelings that anything

You reappear at the living room a while after, a dark blue towel covering you. You are pale with dark circles under your eyes, but it´s a better sight than before.

You noticed he got dressed with jeans too, and was smoking by the window when he hears you come back, he can't help it as his eyes travel over you, his own towel around you like you were his again. He has to bite his tongue, to stop himself from making promises and saying a million things he wanted to

"Did you eat?"

"I'm not hungry" You kneeled next to the sofa to grab some clothes from your backpack and he walks to grab a hoodie from the back of a chair, and you catch a glimpse of the hilt of a knife on his waist when he put it on over his head.

He looks immersed with himself, unapproachable

He turns his head to look at you again. Dove eyes, that beautiful face and that ugly bruise… God, he is so fuckin tired...

He put out the cigarette in the windowsill and put his gloves on, he does not trust himself right now, this is the reason why he needs to go and put distance between the two of you. Besides, there´s someone he needs to pay a visit…

"Go to sleep... " He said, voice strained

Getting up slowly, you approach him softly, placing your hand on his shoulder

"Why don't you..."

It's a mistake, because he shoves your hand away and strides towards the door, grabbing his mask from the hall table and putting it in his back pocket

"Go to the fuckin bedroom"

He slams the door on his way out, leaving you frozen in place, tears running down your face

-

You´ll find him the next morning, asleep on his couch. His nails are dirty and the hem of his hoodie is darkened with a reddish rusty stain. Next to the door are a couple of boxes with your all your stuff from the flat you shared with your now ex- boyfriend. Seems like Simon moved you into his own place last night.

Dividers are from @saradika-graphics Cosplayer: @mrghost.cos on TikTok

[notbecauseofvictories]

50/50

Well, 2024 sure did...happen.

Anyway! I didn't set any sort of goal to watch 50 films and read 50 books this year, but that's where I ended up. Neither number is exactly accurate, and I'm leaving out television, revisiting what I've already read/watched, and all the ridiculous novels I pick up when I'm hungover, but still. I'm kind of impressed with myself. I didn't get to 50 books last year, and I don't think I've watched 50 movies in a year ever---but the more I watch them, the more I explore what they can do and communicate, the more I want to see. As a lifelong reader, it's interesting to explore a new kind of art, to try and intuit your way in through a strikingly different form of communicating the exact same humanness.

TOP FIVE 2024

FILMS

The Florida Project (2017)

Crimes of the Future (2022)

M (1931)

Something in the Dirt (2022)

We’re All Going to the World’s Fair (2021)

It's been months and months since I saw The Florida Project, and I still think about it. The bright and artificial sherbet coloring of it; the dank and mold and shadows that linger around the edges....Actually, I think of all these films in terms of their aesthetics first. Not that there wasn't a story there, but because they all represent such a marriage with form. Consider Crimes of the Future with its fading decay, its browns and rust; M with its stylized, refined cityscape even in the greyscale of 30s cinema; Something in the Dirt where every shot is mundane, or fantastical or both; and We're All Going to the World's Fair, with the particular blue-grey loneliness of the internet age. Surely the benefit of watching a movie (as opposed to anything else) is being presented with something to watch, and I like when directors and creative teams understand that.

Honorable mention to American Psycho (2000) since I'm still a little insane about it---or maybe Corsage (2022) because whether or not it was a good movie, it was nevertheless the most uncompromising, brutal portrait of a historical figure I've seen.

BOOKS

The Rehearsal, Eleanor Catton

Big Swiss, Jen Beagin

Vintner's Luck, Elizabeth Knox

Wylding Hall, Elizabeth Hand

Diavola, Jennifer Thorne

Some people may try to tell you that horror is a discrete genre---I am here to tell you that it's not. All great novels are horror stories, and those listed above especially. From The Rehearsal's self-important artistes, to the therapy-speak Millennials of Big Swiss, to the musicians of Wylding Hall (who miss every sign that Something Is Happening) and the Pace family of Diavola (who deny that the signs mean anything, even after fleeing their vacation home in the night)....all these novels are a study in people experiencing something painful, even terrible. And yet, that provides incredibly fertile territory for their authors to explore the things that come with horror---complicity, desire for closeness, narration and performance, the open wound of family, the thin netting of modernity that keeps us from plunging into something older and darker than we can comprehend.

The only exception might be Vintner's Luck. Not because it's not there as a theme, but because the novel itself spans the narrator's life. By the time he's middle-aged he's committed so many errors, he can't judge too harshly when others do. In this respect it's almost an answer to the questions horror poses---not just how do you survive this? but how do you go on, having survived that?

Honorable mention to Dead Inside, by Chandler Morrison, because it was stomach-turning in the very best way. Echoes of Cipher by Kathe Koja---when an author really knows, really understands, how to wield grossness without shirking or apologizing for it, the result is delightful.

Books of 2020 | Books of 2021 | Books of 2022 | Books of 2023

[luimagines]

Ok, now what would the links do if the group was travelling somewhere that's really cold and snowy, and the group is separated in a snow storm? Now imagine reader and the link in question are close, lovers perhaps, perhaps they're just besties, but the point is they're lost, seperated by from the group, and it's cold af-

I personally think being stuck with twilight would be the best scenario here, because Wolfie is a living heater. Problem solved.

And also, wild has all the right gear for any weather so you'd probably be ok with him too.

BUT- what're your thoughts? Who do you think would handle this well and who would let reader freeze on accident?

I hope you don't mind if I do headcanons on this one! It'll just make it easier to answer your questions that way. :D

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

Legend

Oh honey, you're in good hands.

You know he's got like 15 different items to help you out.

He's already putting on his gear and throwing stuff at you to keep you both warm

He's complaining the entire time though.

Legend's probably been through a situation like this before and now he's just cursing his luck

He's more annoyed than worried

Because of course this had to happen to him

Of all people

He might... leave you behind by mistake. Or at least begin to do so since he's used to continuing on in poor conditions

Yell at him if his pace begins to speed up and you're struggling to catch up.

He'll slow down when he realizes that you don't exactly have the same experience as he does

He'll let you catch up and go at your speed for a little while

Only to get re-annoyed with the circumstances and begin power-walking through the snow again.

He would probably try going through the night to catch up with the rest of the group so you would need to slow him down

Freezing through the night is not a concern of his.

He's too pissed off to care.

Is probably causing all the snow to melt around him in his rage.

....Maybe don't try to make conversation

Let him stomp it out

Sky

Oh no

Oh dear

Good luck

Now he's from the highlands

Get it?

Because the islands are high- they- they're in the Sky- Nevermind

That being said, he's used to colder temperatures

Not freezing

Hear that?

He's doomed.

Doomed I say!

And so are you if someone doesn't get their act together!!!

You both are better off staying put and huddling for warmth.

It's a good thing Sky gives great hugs.

Just wait for the others to come find you and regroup.

Not that Sky is going to want to stay put and wait on someone else.

He's still a Link after all

But good golly you better find a way to keep him put

Sit on him if you have to

Solves both problems

Four

He's going to freeze as well.

He may have an item or two that can help him.

But he's small, ok?

He doesn't have a lot of body heat to go around.

And he's not going to risk it and go out into a storm with ill-equipped gear and a lack of direction

No sir, he won't.

You are both going to sit down and wait.

He tries to avoid it early on, but after a few hours, fire or no fire, he will eventually latch onto you like a koala

I don't make the rules.

Snuggle time!

Please don't let him fall asleep.

That being said, I think that with the two of you missing, the group find you in record time.

You don't have to wait long in the snow storm until rescue comes.

So no need to panic

You both are going to be a-ok. :)

Time

He is on high alert the second you've been separated from the group.

Time makes sure that you are as close to him as physically possible.

He also makes sure to put away his armor. That amount of metal would have him frozen faster than a poe with an ice rod.

He (most likely) will have his equipment to deal with the cold, but his main concern will be on you the entire time.

Not that Time has a lot of ways to deal with the cold to begin with.

I'd imagine that he burns brighter than more so the cold won't bother him as much.

But being out in the middle of nowhere in a blizzard is not very conducive for a survivable experience.

Instantly tries to find a cave instead.

Does not hesitate to use Din's Power to warm the air and keep a fire going.

He somehow also keeps you from burning when he uses said power.

Don't ask me how. I'm using Suspension of Belief.

Once the fire has started, he'll sit you down and drag you close.

Cuddles for warmth. Obviously. Unless? o.o

Kidding.

Mostly.

Time goes full provider mode.

You cannot convince me that the dude who essentially played hero for his entire life will be able to turn that off on a whim

He's a caretaker and he's going to keep you both alive no. matter. what.

The others are going to have to wait. You come first.

Twilight

Oh, he's fine.

He's borderline built for this weather, you kidding?

However, he knows that you both have to reconvene with the group at some point.

So out comes Wolfie.

He can track like the best of them but may forget that you can't travel through it as well as he can.

He makes sure to keep you close.

You may have to have a hand on him at all times as he both try to make your way through the weather.

When you get too cold to move on though, Twilight transforms back into his hylian form and gives you his best gear.

He takes of the wolf pelt and wraps you in it.

Then he takes out all the other clothes that he has and puts them on himself.

They're lighter than his best gear but he's going to put as many layers as he can tolerate

Then he picks you up and carries you until he finds a safe place where you can spend the night.

He (like many in his family) is a man of action and is going to make sure you have nothing to worry about.

Twilight is going to forget that you're a team in his effort to keep everything under control

He means well so don't take it to heart

It's how he manages his stress

Your options are let him do what he wants and go along with it or try to (kindly) remind him that you can do just as much as he can

Results may vary for option number two.

Warrior

Fire rod?

Fire rod.

No need to worry he's going to have some fun.

You might have to worry about having your eyebrows singed off instead.

But let's just say the cold is not going to be a problem for the foreseeable future.

What's more worrying is trying to find your way back to the group.

That is going to be a problem and a half.

Kinda.

I'm tempted to say that Warrior shoots multiple fire columns into the sky to act like giant magical flares.

....Hopefully nothing else catches on fire.

You have to admit though, it looks awesome.

Your best bet would be that the others find you first before you find them because Warrior is not the best tracker known to man.

Wolfie is going to be your best friend.

Warrior cries when he sees Woflie.

He blames it on the wind chill on his eyes.

Wolfie knows better. XD

Wind

Help this poor child.

He's from an island.

A tropical island.

Not to mention he's just a kid!

Sure he's brave and smart and resourceful but to be trapped in a snowstorm?

He's not going to know what to do.

You better have a better inkling of how to handle yourselves.

Or you better place your bets in the group trying to find you first.

But he's not going to be of much help.

Would most likely be a liability in a situation like this.

I'm not saying that to be mean. I know he'd want to do his best to help and to pull his own weight and probably do most of the work since he's "The Hero".

But it's that same attitude that is going to put him in the way most of the time.

Not to mention that (to my knowledge) he doesn't have the gear to help out in the snow.

You're going to have to sit him down and give him a talkin' to because he's going to understand the problem you've both found yourselves in very easily.

Wolfie better be on his way and be there fast.

Wild

He's having the time of his life.

Between his gear to keep out the cold, his lack of self-preservation, and the fact that he can set anything on fire whenever he feels like- y'all are golden.

One of those people that'll accidentally take off without in their excitement, so please hang onto him so you're not left behind. ^.^*

Wild is also the one carrying all the food so you don't have to worry much on that front either.

Even if he didn't, he's also a hunter and is more than willing to hunt down dinner and cook it for you. :D

And that's still not even talking about his potions, his sheikah slate that can connect to Wind's Pirate Stone, and his ability to get lost figure out where he's going.

Aside from the boys already mentioned, if there was ever a need to draw the short stick and get stuck somewhere like this be aware that it could be very... very worse.

(Sorry Wild)

Granted, it'll probably take longer to find others.

Or for them to find you.

Let's be real, you're not going to be staying in one spot.

So! You're going to be set traveling with Wild!

That boy has everything covered! There's nothing for you to worry about!

Save for maybe him running off to explore without you.

And of course... because of that... prolonging the ability to return to the group...

Take pictures. At least have fun with it!

Hyrule

Ok- Mr. Streets Smarts would be an amazing bet to rely on.

He may not be the best tracker, but he knows his stuff.

Hyrule has an amazing sense of direction.

He may have a bad habit of wandering off.

But all those who wander are not always lost, you know what I'm saying?

You may be separated from the group but that doesn't mean that there's no way to find shelter of a nice place to camp.

Hyrule can sniff out this stuff (not literally)

It may not lead you both back to the group, but there's no reason to fear when Hyrule is here!

That being said, he's skin and bones.

This kid needs more layers.

Whether you headcanon him being part fairy or not, I can't imagine the magic he has also equating to him higher blood pressure or a high body tempt to fight off the fact that his boy is gonna be trapped in a snow storm/very snowy area

It may be up to you to make sure he doesn't get hypothermia and freeze to death.

He can lead you out of a mess like that no problem

...It doesn't mean he can lead you back to the group, but something is better than nothing

But I can't imagine him being able to retain his heat very well.

It's going to be the roll of the dice with one y'all.

[randomness-is-my-order]

one of my favourite moments in the books is when wen ning is trying to bow to wei wuxian and wei wuxian is not having it and bows right back because he knows wen ning will feel uncomfortable and finally give up the humbling-himself routine and i think it’s a very important part about wei wuxian’s inherent nature that he, despite everything, uplifts people.

he’s not always helping them by doing their work for them but he’s equipping them with the tools and the motivation to do better. it’s empowerment–a kind of help that lasts longer and truly benefits the person in the long term. it is exactly what he does to wen ning when they first meet: he encourages wen ning in a way that once internalised can help him be a better archer and stand taller amidst his clan. it is what he does with the clan juniors in the second life. he doesn’t solve mysteries for them, he merely shows them the tools that might help them uncover the truth. he doesn’t promise jiang cheng that he will solve his confidence issues. he simply tells him something that might change his perspective on how clan leaders are supposed to act and how breaking convention wasn’t a sign of failure. he doesn’t straight up fight jin ling’s bullies for him. instead he shows him ways he can combat his aggressors and he doesn’t enable his bad behaviour either. he doesn’t wheedle wen yuan into liking lan wangji when they first meet, instead he concocts a scenario where lwj can simply display his good nature and it works wonders because he trusts lwj to rise to the occassion. he doesn’t treat the wen remnants as if they are a fragile people: he gives them security in a corpse-ridden land and trusts them to build something habitable out of it. he helps, yes, but he never tries to be above them, or accept their servitude in exchange for something else. he’s not interested in that. he wants to see the people he cares about be their best versions. he doesn’t want wen ning to ever bow to him because they’re equals, because wei wuxian has only ever wanted to uplift him, because wei wuxian is not trying to take on their personal burdens and solve them by himself but actually trying to make them self-reliant and truly capable in their own right. in essence, he is not the friend who will help you cheat during an exam, but he will help you prepare in advance and will answer your queries and push you to study more when you have the time. mark of a true friend, indeed.

[antinitoniny]

santa doesn't know you like i do

"i wonder if santa could bring a whole damn 6ft man this midnight" you said, pouring yourself another glass of red wine.

"...is that what you wished for this christmas?" anton, your best friend asked. he seems concerned & LOOKS concerned.

"i mean, i can't really think of anything i want for christmas except for an intelligent, hot, athletic, 6foot man to ruin my 2025." you said

you & anton have been friends since your womb era considering the fact that both of your parents have been friends for decades.

your friendship is basically fixed & y'all can't do anything about it anymore. proven & tested when you tried to cut him off during elementary after stabbing his arm with a pencil but you found each other in one dining table the next evening.

now that your parents wanted some time to themselves, the "kids" are left to take care of the house this christmas eve.

now, you're sitting on the couch next to anton, trying to figure out how the hell would santa fit in the chimney.

"you brought the cookies out, didn't you?" you asked, checking the table near the tree.

"for santa? are we seriously gonna do that?" anton asked, looking at you like you're some 5-year-old.

"um, no? it's for my future husband that he's bringing over." you rolled your eyes jokingly.

"what did you wish for anyway?" you asked

"i wished for someone to like me back" anton said, sitting back comfortably, looking at the ceiling.

silence.

anton waited for your response but you weren't saying anything. curious (and nervous), anton looked at you to check your reaction.

there you are, spacing out.

"what's on your mind?" anton asked, popping your lil bubble.

"how the hell would santa grant that? it's not like he can put that in a box & leave it under the tree" you said

anton laughed loudly for a minute or two which made you think that he's going insane.

anton, on the other hand, found your thoughts funny. he expected you to tease him about his lil crush or ask him about who it is. but instead, you were worrying about santa.

"i can't think of anything else. plus, i don't really believe in santa." anton replied

silence.

but this time, it was because the conversation was done. silence has never been awkward with anton which is mainly why you've learned to love anton's company.

his presence doesn't make you worry about what you're gonna say next nor how you're gonna continue the conversation. you can just exist in one place in silence & it can be the best hours of your day.

"what exactly did you write to santa?" anton asked, looking at you. for some reason, you felt nervous to look back & engage in eye contact so you stared at the tree.

"good morning, santa. if i'm on your good kid list, i'd like to have a good company for christmas. preferably a 6ft man in his 20s, smart, nice, soft spoken, family oriented, athletic, and hot. thank you, santa. merry christmasㅡ with a bunch of hearts" you recited from your memory.

"that's basically me" anton whispered

"huh? are you badmouthing me on christmas?" you raised your brow

"i said that your wish is not that specific" he said sarcastically.

"santa observed me for years as a good kid, he knows me & he knows my type" you rolled your eyes jokingly at him

"i've been with you for more than a decade, i think i know you more than santa" anton mindlessly replied

"your point being?" you asked

anton gulped. he doesn't know what he's going to say & confessing to his longtime crush is definitely not part of his 2024 bingo card.

"that i'm more than qualified than santa in fulfilling your wish" anton said confidently, succeeding in hiding his nervousness (at least in his end)

"i don't think any of your friends fit the criteria" you said, lowkey hoping that anton will offer himself

"i do" and he did

"huh?"

"i fit your criteria, don't i? am i not enough as a christmas gift?" anton teased, leaning over to your side of the couch. anton's confidence grew once he saw how flustered you are.

"hahaha what are you saying? stop it hahahaㅡ i wonder if they're home? i'll checkㅡ" you said, standing up to go to the front door. your face is obviously heating up from the unexpected turn of events.

"i like you" anton interrupted you. you stood frozen to your spot, looking at anton who's already looking at you.

"i love our little moments together like how we spent hours just walking around town last weekend, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. you make the most random things feel important." anton smiled while recalling your little moments together. you couldn't help but smile as well.

"it's the way you laugh at your own jokes, even when no one else does. it's honestly one of my favorite things. you'll say something dumb, then look at me with that "I know it was bad but I’m laughing anyway" expression, and I’ll always laugh too, because I get it. " anton said, slightly teasing you. you rolled your eyes jokingly, chuckling of how accurate he is as if he has read your mind during those moments.

"also, right, you've always hated wearing those big jackets in the winter, but I know you’d never leave the house without it because someone else might be cold. i mean, you always let someone borrow your jacket without a second thoughtㅡyou act like it’s no big deal, but I know it’s because you don’t mind being a little uncomfortable if it means someone else feels better." anton continued.

his words warmed your heart. you didn't know that he noticed that.

"is that why you always wear two jackets and i somehow find a magic jacket on my shoulder?" you laughed

"yeah, and you always tease me about how dramatic i am for wearing two jackets." anton sighed

"you could've just made me hold the other jacket just in case" you said

"you hate holding stuffㅡ it's always ME who's holding your bag anywhere" anton quickly rebutted which made you zip your mouth.

anton chuckled and continued.

"anyway, i admire your perspective on different things & how you view people. it's like, no matter how messy the situation looks, you always manage to find the good in it. you see beauty in the things other people might miss, like how you can walk through a crowded street and notice a little detail, like the color of someone’s shoes or the way a kid is laughing, that makes everything feel lighter. " he said.

"there’s something about the way you move through the world—so real, so unbothered, but always with purpose—that makes me want to be better too."

anton said, looking at you sincerely.

"i can’t help but fall more for the person you are when no one’s looking. I’m not sure when it happened, but somewhere along the way, you became someone I want to know more, be more, and be with." anton said, walking closer to you.

"so.. merry christmas?" anton laughed the awkwardness off.

"i don't know what to say, i'm really bad at words" you said, tearing up

"obviously, i'm aware. you're not obligated to say anythingㅡ i just wanted toㅡ i just felt likeㅡ" anton's words were soon interrupted by you.

"i love you. like, fuck it, i stabbed you with a pencil when we were 7 because i was sad because you didn't like me" you confessed. you were so close to crying because of anton's words and anton just stood there, laughing his ass off.

"you're pretty violent..." anton said, acting so offended

"h-heyㅡ"

"i'm sorry for the late confession. i should've known." anton suddenly said. he was about to say more but you immediately interrupted him with a hug.

"...maybe i should start believing in santa" anton chuckled, burying his face on your neck.

"merry christmas, ant." you said, breaking the hug to look at him.

"oh my god. thank you, santa" anton said, completely taken away by your beauty & by the thought of how the situation escalated to this.

you laughed at how chaotic he is. the anton you love, the anton you've loved that seemed to have never changedㅡ and you're glad that he didn't.

"i actually wrote your name on my santa wishlist" you confessed

"good to know. after all, santa won't give you somebody that loves you more than me".

[ickyrafe]

professor rafe who treats you as his favorite student because your just so smart and attentive during class! he’ll make sure to take you out after getting a good test score and soon enough after graduation he’s taking you into his car (after putting something in your drink) taking you to his house! he’ll force you into a marriage or baby trap you and force you to become his little housewife because why would you need that stupid college degree and a job when you have him!

(can’t forget the age difference too!) thoughts? 💭

thinking about years down the line when you’re out to dinner with his old colleagues or even just a party at one of their houses. specifically another professor who makes sure to say, “weren’t you one of our students?” and you have no choice but to shyly nod while rafe’s ears perk up at the daring question before he excuses you both, dragging you off to the bathroom and practically ripping apart the tights you have on under your skirt.

he snarls against the side of your face, making sure to lock the door while you’re still simmering in embarrassment and trying to ignore the feeling of your throat tightening up— your wedding band twinkles in the light as you place a hand on his chest in an attempt to calm him down, only for his hands to palm your ass with such a grip that you whimper into his shoulder, “they all still want t’fuck you, y’know… but i’m the only one who knows exactly how this sweet cunt feels. right, angel face?”

and he is right— but all you can think about is how you wasted your best years and expensive education to run off with your teacher and become a borderline braindead housewife for him.

how silly you must look to all of them.

[faith-forgxtten-land]

Sloppy | Raphael

okay so this wasn’t a request but i’ve been MIA for a while and i haven’t really had the opportunity to write much over the past few months so this is really just writing practice (forgive me if it's subpar, i'm rusty)

also, if you've requested something, i promise that i'm working on it so please be patient!

made with bayverse in mind!!

warnings: NSFW, first thing i’ve properly written in months so be kind people, swearing, afab reader — mentions of pussy etc., oral sex (f!receiving), raph is a little feral and mean i feel… everyone is 18+!!, not proofread so lemme know if you notice any glaring errors

summary: raph eats your pussy; he’s greedy and sloppy (it’s perfect)

word count: 651 (short and not sweet)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

raph eats pussy like a man possessed. he’s sloppy and loud about it, spit and slick all over his face as he spreads your legs as wide as possible and then even wider. your hips ache from the stretch, and you can already tell you’ll be sore tomorrow, but all you can do is whine and moan, hands covering your heated face in a futile effort to silence yourself.

you can’t even grind down against him like this because the bastard has one arm casually slung over your stomach, his huge palm pressing down just so, enough to make you whimper. you can feel him grinning meanly against your thigh with each failed arch of your spine, nipping your flesh in cruel, teasing bites that are sure to leave purple marks, before he continues to lap at your cunt like he hasn’t eaten in a week.

“raph,” you wheeze desperately, whimpers getting stuck in your throat as he practically growls against you. the sound is dark and agonised, and you can’t help but gasp as he pushes a thick digit inside you. “raph, raph, raph—”

he tongues your clit and crooks his finger, and you can no longer breathe, hands now clenched into bedsheets and thighs shaking with every sloppy touch. “that’s it,” he rumbles, the vibrations only making you tremble more. “that’s it, give it to me.”

your moans fill the room in perfect harmony with the filthy squelch of your pussy as raph fucks you with his calloused finger. it’s already too much, but you think you might pass out when he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks like he’s trying to reap your soul. “oh my god—”

you’re whining so loud, choked, and so, so needy, but you can’t find it within you to feel shame even as a distant part of your brain acknowledges that you won’t be able to look his brothers in the eye for a good week after this.

white eclipses your vision when you come, falling headfirst over that precipice that you’ve been teetering on for god knows how long. you fall silent when you do, mouth parted and back finally arching as raph lets your body take exactly what it needs; he lets you grind your hips down, mouth still fixed over your clit as your thighs clamp down around his skull.

he’s mumbling something dirty and full of sacrilege when you finish, his words a wicked churr that tips you into oversensitivity, and you whine weakly when he keeps moving his finger inside you, letting it drag against your slick walls with a slightly sadistic delight.

he chuckles when you slap his forearm weakly, but he acquiesces and slowly pulls back, groaning to himself when he sees just how soaked his hand is. “such a good girl,” he murmurs, looking right at you when he tastes you on his finger. he groans again at the flavour as if he hasn’t been buried in your pussy for the best part of the last hour.

“you’re terrible,” you tell him, voice wrecked, when he finally releases his finger from his mouth.

his smirk is shameless and greedy. “oh, i know.” his warm palms rest against your wet thighs, parting them again with ease. your hipbones twinge, and you gasp as he drags you closer to him, nestling between your legs like he belongs there (he does). “and we’re nowhere near done.”

his eyes are dark and leering, gluttonous and greedy, never full of you but always full of sin, and you swallow thickly as his lips twist into a ravenous snarl, nostrils flaring as you somehow grow even wetter, slick trickling down your already soaked thigh at the unadulterated lechery above you.

by the time you're done, several hours and several orgasms later, you know you won’t be able to look his brothers in the eye for at least a month.