#I'm sorry I know that's an ice cold take but I love this shit man he just nails it so hard every time

[arashi-no-saxlphone]

I can't stress enough that you have to listen to the new Kendrick album. "I don't like rap" wrong. You like this album. Don't be a fucking coward. Literally insane beats all through it's like he just picked all his best background rhythms and wrote this album.

MUSTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARD

[the-kr8tor]

This is my first time doing this 👉👈 but can I please request a Hobie x reader fluff where reader and him went to the beach (probably using his boat lmao) and reader comes back all sun burnt. Sunburn + how much hobie likes physical touch cannot go well together I imagine lmao

Hi hun! Thank you for requesting ❤️ I love your prompt sm, it's so adorable 🥰 hope you like it!

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, No specific physical description of the reader, FLUFF.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

"Ow ow" you hiss out, waddling back inside Hobie's houseboat. He's been gone for a bit, answering a distress call from his two-way radio, taking a pause on your little beach vacation, you hope he's okay.

Taking Hobie's houseboat to the beach was a spontaneous decision. You briefly mentioned to him that you haven't been to the seaside in a while, missing the cool breeze and the salty water.

So here you are, burnt to an almost crisp, from your face to your legs. You fell asleep on a lawn chair, waiting for Hobie to come back from being Spider-Man. Oh man how you deeply regret shutting your eyes, you swear it was only for a few minutes. You lift your left arm checking the time, you wince when your watch grazes your tender skin, deciding to just take the watch off, you see that it left a mark on your wrist, a huge difference to the rest of your skin.

"Fucckk!! nooo!" You screech out, already dreading what your skin would feel like in a few days, especially when it sheds. You stop in front of Hobie's fridge, littered with various magnets, concert flyers and your little doodles. You open it, carefully avoiding the door from touching your skin, the cold air helps, you try not to grab an ice cube and place it on your warm skin, but you know it does more harm than good.

You wish you brought your trusty aloe vera cream with you, instead, you settle with hydrating from the inside, gulping down a bottle of water, little droplets falling on your chin down to your chest.

Hobie whistles out, he's as tall as the door, arms easily resting on the top, nonchalantly leaning on the doorway "should've came back earlier, if you told me you're gonna put on a little show" he hasn't noticed your inflamed skin with the lights shut off.

Hobie runs towards you, arms stretched In Front of him, eager to hug you. Your eyes widen, he bounds towards you, it's too late to stop him, his arms embrace around your tender form, leather vest scraping on your warm skin.

"Wait! Hobie! Ow!" You yell out, pushing him off with your palms. You instantly feel guilty from pushing him.

He immediately lets go, thinking he might've poked you with the spikes on his suit "shit, you alright?" No ounce of malice in his voice.

"I'm sorry" you say meekly, flailing your arms so that the slight breeze calms your angry skin.

He notices the pain in your voice and your weird flailing, "don't be, what's wrong?" Hobie asks, concerned.

You close your eyes briefly, the pain slowly subsiding, but a dull pain still throbs on your skin.

Hobie reaches out to you, but you quickly move away from his touch, he retracts his hand, sadness creeping in, is it him? What did he do now?

As if you can read his thoughts, you quickly put a stop to his thinking "I'm sunburnt, Hobie" you press the nearby light switch, showing your inflamed skin.

He sighs, relief flooding his senses "well shit, lovey, what happened?"

"I fell asleep while you were gone?" You say it like a kid waiting to be scolded, because you did exactly what he told you not to do while he was away.

Hobie puts his hands on his hip, oh you're definitely gonna get a talking to. "On the chair outside, I bet?"

"Mm-hmm" you nod, face apologetic.

"Even though I practically bathed you in sunscreen?"

"Yeah"

Hobie guffaws, he can't help it, with your face looking like you broke his precious guitar, and the fact that you still got sunburnt despite lathering you a few hours ago with a lot of sunscreen.

"It's not funny" you say dejected, wincing when your frown pulls at your skin.

Hobie breathes out, calming his laughter "Alright, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" he reaches out again for a comforting hug like he's used to, but he brings back his arms when he remembers your aching skin.

He misses your touch already.

"You laughed at my misfortune" you pout, winching again when it tugs at your warm skin.

"Love, you're the cause for your own misfortune" He teases, mimicking your voice at the last word.

"But Hobie, it hurts" you try to tug at his heart strings. You stomp your foot, huffing out.

Hobie thinks you're so adorable right now, despite your little tantrum.

He chuckles, closing his smiling mouth immediately when you scowl at him.

Hobie closes the small distance, his hands hovering over your face, careful not to graze your sensitive skin.

"I'll take care of you, yeah?"

You look at him through your lashes, "you'll get my aloe vera cream from my flat for me?" Batting your eyelashes for extra effect.

"That and more" he wishes he could kiss you right now.

You notice him staring at your lips "I'll give you a hundred kisses when I'm better"

"Just a hundred?"

"A thousand and one then" you smile despite the pain.

"I'll take it" He can't wait for you to heal.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging if you enjoyed it ❤️

[missmaywemeetagain]

A Pink Scarf Thanksgiving 💗🧣🦃

A very happy Thanksgiving weekend to those who celebrate! ❤️

This blurb came out of nowhere, in a fit of Thanksgiving inspiration (and a special thanks to Norah for inadvertently nudging me towards a Thanksgiving prompt)! Because of this, it is not overly edited or revised. I will say, I'm not sure yet just how canon I want this to be in terms of the PS Universe, but I figure it came out of me for a reason, so I decided to go with it for now. 

I think my current moody headspace influenced the vibe for this--for us fans, it's a slightly indulgent "what could have been" scenario. But that's PS in a nutshell, isn't it?  🥹

Anyhoo, I hope this hits you in the feels! And I hope you know just how much you matter to me, even though I've been a bit MIA recently. 

Much love xoxoxox, Madi 💗

TW: It's 1977, so...medical issues/trauma/strife. Panic attack. Thanksgiving stress. A little hint of sexy at the end bc I couldn't leave you on a melancholy note! 💋

A Pink Scarf Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving 1977

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. P, but the oven is out. Lamar took a peek, but the thing is as cold as ice and don’t look like it’s gonna be warm any time soon,” Mary says, looking as distraught as you feel. “I’m sorry I didn’t catch it sooner.”

The naked, trussed, and cold turkey on the counter mocks you.

“No, no, it’s not your fault, Mary. We’ll…figure something out,” you try and reassure her, but it feels like a weight has just been placed on your chest. You pinch the bridge of your nose to stave off the massive headache that began early this morning when Nicky barged into your room at the crack of dawn sobbing because he’d had a nightmare that Mr. Gobble Gobble, a monster turkey, had eaten Daddy instead of the other way around.

This was one of many nightmares that your poor little boy had suffered since August, but certainly the first starring a murderous Thanksgiving turkey. He’d barely been consolable and neither of you had gotten back to sleep.

You take a deep breath, holding back the tears that threaten your vision.

Today needs to be perfect. It was supposed to be perfect.

But you should have known. After all, this year has been far from perfect.

You force yourself away from the wave of despair trying to overcome you. No, we’ve been lucky, you think. It could be so much worse.

Unfortunately, your nerves are shot, which makes sense considering the last few months you’ve had. You’ve kept it together so well. You’ve had to. For Nicky. For Elvis. But that tried resolve begins to crumble with the pressure of it all, as though everything that has happened is hitting you all at once.

Now you have a house full of hungry people, Elvis will be home any minute, and your usual quick-footed problem-solving skills have flown out the window. Your hands begin to tremble.

The panic swells as the kitchen swarms with people looking to you for direction, and in that moment, Nicky runs through the adults, chased by one of the other kids. It happens so fast—you barely have time to register the commotion before disaster strikes.

You watch in horror as the kids fly into the sideboard, knocking the precious side dishes and desserts onto the floor with a resounding crash.

The collective gasp of the adults in the room sends your panic into overdrive.

Thanksgiving is officially ruined.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” you shout. The entire room goes silent. It’s not everyday Elvis Presley’s calm and collected wife loses her shit. No, that is something usually reserved for the man himself.

“Well, that’s not quite the welcome home I was expecting,” a familiar baritone chuckles from behind you.

You whip around, your bottom lip quivering. “Elvis?” you whisper.

He’s standing right here—standing! On his own!—leaning on his cane for support, a twinkle in his eye that you haven’t seen in ages. One you weren’t sure you’d ever see again. And the sight of him finally being home again after so many months in the hospital is more than you can bear. After standing tall and strong for him for so long, you crumble into a thousand pieces. An uncontrollable sob chokes out of you, your tears overflowing.

“Aw, honey,” he says quietly, slowly making his way to you, waving everyone else out of the room with the commanding flick of his hand. They exit in a flash with their concerned and pitied looks. Not that you care, because the second you can, you are falling into your husband’s open arms.

“I’m so sorry…your homecoming…it’s all ruined,” you sob into his chest, being mindful of the long scar down the center. Feeling the warmth of him engulfing you is overwhelming. His scent, untainted by antiseptic and hospital smells for the first time in a long time, swirls around you, caressing your senses.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, it’s okay. Let it all out, Satnin,” he coos, stroking your hair with his free hand. “Hers has been so strong for hims, but hims is home now.”

The tenderness of his baby talk in your ear sends a fresh wave of tears to your eyes, staining the silk of his blue dress shirt. He’s dressed up, you think absently, knowing this is a huge thing. Even before that fateful August morning, he’d been mostly wearing his tracksuits when he wasn’t performing. He’d been so uncomfortable and in pain, you’d understood why.

You bury your head into his neck, pent up emotions violently shuddering through your body as you let your tears fall freely for the first time in months. You can barely breathe with how you wedge yourself into him, with how he holds you tight. He’s so much slimmer now that the edema is gone and his colon has been tended to, you realize, but he’s still soft in all the right places. You still fit against him perfectly, and his grip on you makes you realize he understands just how raw you are.

You cry more, thinking about how the last time he was here was when you’d found him unresponsive on the bathroom floor. How you’d never been so scared in your entire life, not even when you yourself had brushes with death.

It's a miracle he’s here at all. None of you, doctors included, were sure if he’d ever step through the doors of Graceland again. Not after the heart attack, or the coma, or the complications from his various surgeries. It had been one blow after another, for weeks, months. But somehow, in true stubborn Elvis fashion, he’d pulled through.

He’d gritted his way through healing, through physical therapy, through weaning off so many of the meds he’d been on before and during his hospital stay, and he hated every second of it. He’d been livid about the colostomy, but you’d had no care for his vanity when you’d had to make the decision to save his life. You didn’t care if he hated you because at least he’d be alive to tell you so. He’d gotten past it, mostly, especially once he was feeling better.

The entire ordeal had terrified him. Something had changed in him in those weeks he’d lingered between life and death, something he wasn’t ready to talk about just yet, but even with all the setbacks, his determination to come home was intensely motivating.

Which is why you’d wanted it to be special, and why it being Thanksgiving had so much meaning. Elvis was finally coming home. Then everything had gone to hell in a handbasket.

“I wanted everything to be perfect for you. You deserve it,” you say quietly, sniffling, holding him as tight as you dare without wanting to hurt him.

“Darlin’, just bein’ back home with you and Nicky is more than I ever dreamed of. I don’t need no big fancy dinner or welcome home committee. I jus’ need you.”

You pull back then, your heart about ready to burst, and look at him. He looks downright debonair with his silvery hair (which you’d convinced him not to dye back after it had grown out during his illness), freshly cut and shorter than it had been in years, fluffy but brushed back off his face in a style reminiscent to when he was younger. His apple cheeks are full and have more color than they’ve had in months.

“What?” he asks looking down at you, almost bashful under your gaze.

You reach up and cup his freshly shaven cheek, smooth and soft under your palm. Those deep ocean blue eyes of his threaten to swallow you whole. Staring into their depths, you don’t want to imagine a world without him in it anymore.

“I just love you,” you whisper, barely able to get the words out without choking up again. “So much.”

Eyes shining, Elvis pulls you up and into him. His lips are as sweet and as soft as you remember when they press into yours. The kiss is full of yearning, of love, and of everything you two have been through the past twenty years. It’s truly like coming home.

The kiss turns hungry then, more so than you expect. It’s been so very long since you’ve had each other in this way and it surprises you how readily your body remembers, despite all the pain and trauma you both have experienced. You open for him, and he moans when his tongue brushes against yours. A fiery wave of heat blisters through you then, hastily banishing away your tears.

Despite all the challenges you’ve faced over the years, you’ve always felt the pull of him in your soul. You’ve always wanted him, neededhim, even when you convinced yourself to forget because you thought you couldn’t have him. And now, after almost losing him for good, you can think of nothing else but him. The warmth of his body pressed against yours causes you to melt. The way his lips and hands roam over the curves of your body sends you soaring.

You thought you’d never have this again. It had almost broken you.

“I’m here, baby. I’m home, I promise,” he mutters into your skin, as if reading your mind.

You kiss him deeply, yanking him into you by his pretty shirt, taking his breath away.

He pulls away and presses his forehead to yours, and you can feel him sway on his feet, a little unbalanced.

“Good news—looks like Little Elvis is back in working order,” he says breathlessly, pressing his thickening erection into your belly. He seems pleasantly surprised.

Honestly, with everything dire that happened, it hadn’t even crossed your mind as a concern, but it makes sense that it could be an issue. You grin up at him with the knowledge that it isn’t, then roll your hips against him.

He groans. “Bad news—not sure I have the energy to do all the things I wanna to ya, and we got a house full of people.” Doesn’t stop him from grabbing a handful of your bottom, however.

“Oh, that’s never stopped us before, now has it?” you muse, walking your fingers gently down his chest and over his belly to palm his length.

“Lord have mercy, woman,” he moans, his eyes fluttering closed. You notice him lean more heavily on his cane and instantly ease up. One blue eye opens with a quirked brow. “Hey now, I din’t say stop.”

You laugh. “Well, it seems dinner is ruined anyhow,” you say, surveying the disaster of broken dishes and scattered food all over the floor, and the cold, raw turkey on the counter. “Maybe we better get you upstairs to rest.”

Rest is, of course, the furthest thing from your mind now, which you let him know with a little squeeze to his butt.

“Mmhmm, yes, I definitely need to lie down,” he mumbles as he peppers you with kisses. Suddenly, he freezes against you. “But, honey, I-I-I’m not sure how much I can do,” he whispers, a wave of uncertainty washing over him.

“Hey, it’s okay. We’ll take it slow. Real slow. One step at a time, like fumbling teenagers,” you say lightly, cupping his face and looking up into his eyes. “Or we can just kiss and hold each other. I’m just happy you’re here, baby.”

He nods, seemingly reassured by this. “I know I don’t say it as much as I should, but I thank God every day for you and for what we have together, Satnin,” he says quietly, brushing your hair behind your ear, kissing you gently. “I love you.”

Your heart and body ache for him. “We better get you upstairs to “rest”before I start crying again,” you snuffle, laughing, slowly walking with him toward the stairs.

“Well, tears aren’t entirely off the table…I can think of a couple good ways I can make you cry,” he teases, nibbling at your ear.

“Elvis Aaron, you did not just…” you gasp.

“What??” he says innocently. “Am I wrong?”

A shiver runs down your spine and settles in the heat of your belly.

You’ve missed him. Terribly.

But you do have so much to be thankful for this year, namely for the infuriatingly talented, generous, and stubborn man you married and are gingerly leading up the stairs for the first time in months.

In fact, there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

*

Taglist Pt 1

@eliseinmemphis@russian-soft-bitch@tattywood

@sassanoe@thella @suspiciousmidge @hiddlepiddlediddlewiddle@carolinesbookworld @juggernort @aesthetic-lyss @stitchattacks @donnamarie23

 @littlebitofgreen@paigevis@bugg06@xhannahbananax03@artlover8992

@18lkpeters@frozenhuntress67@girlblogger2002@kendralavon7@misspresley

@be-my-ally @whositmcwhatsit @vintageshanny @ellie-24 @thatbanditqueen @powerofelvis @from-memphis-with-love

 @precious-lil-scoundrel @stylespresleyhearted @prompted-wordsmith @crash-and-cure @elvisgf @lookingforrainbows @fic-over-cannon @godlypresley @ab4eva @whatstruthgottodowithit @elvisabutler @amydarcimarie@idontwanttoputanything @callieselvisobsessed @captainamerica1235-blog  @xenaspace3-blog 

@simplyamberj@claire-elvisgirl@everythingelvispresley@louisejoy86@deniseinmn @madelynpresley

[criminalcinnamon]

BAKING (a nocozekiel oneshot)

I thought I'd write something more fluff-y after finishing the jacnoah fic, so here's that!

Sun streamed through the windows of the kitchen as Ezekiel tied on his apron. Cody was sitting at the kitchen table, leaning back on the chair while he looked up recipes in a cook book, and Noah was finding all the ingredients.

"This looks like a good one." Cody said as he showed Zeke a recipe he'd found for cupcakes. "Seems easy enough." He shrugged.

"Alright, eh. Noah? Can you get the flour?"

"Alrighty." Noah grabbed the flour and placed it on the counter.

Zeke grabbed the equipment while Cody grabbed the rest of the ingredients.

"What the hell is caster sugar?"

"Something we don't have." Noah rolled his eyes and leaned against the counter. "We'll have to use regular sugar."

"Same thing, eh."

Cody turned on the oven, setting it a bit too high, while Noah grabbed the cupcake cases and tossed them to Zeke, accidentally hitting him in the eye.

"Shit. You okay?" Noah bent down to Zeke's height.

"Yeah. I'm fine, homie."

Noah chuckled. "Can you put the cupcake cases in the baking tray, 'homie'?"

Zeke nodded and did as Noah said.

"So..." Cody said while mixing the batter, "how was all of your weekends?"

"Cody we live together, we had the same weekend." Noah sighed.

"Right!" Cody fiddled with his wooden stirring spoon.

"Hey Noah, no need to be harsh on him, eh, he was just trying to make conversation!"

"Alrighty, sorry," Noah leaned against the counter, "just tired."

"You really need more sleep man." Cody put the bowl down and ruffled Noah's hair.

Noah yawned. "I'll take over the stirring."

Before anyone could interject, Noah picked up the bowl and started stirring. It didn't take long for them to be finished and soon they were pouring the batter into the cases and putting them into the over, leaving more time to talk.

"We should watch a movie while we eat these!" Cody grinned, jumping up and down slightly.

"Oooh, what movie?"

"Let's watch Star Wars." Noah piped up.

"Woah, I didn't know you liked that kinda shit."

Noah shrugged. "It's not bad, and I know you like them so, why not?"

"I've never seen Star Wars, eh."

"Really? They're SO good. We have to watch ALL of the original trilogy!!!" Cody grinned, tapping the counter excitedly.

"Oh god, don't get him started, he'll yap forever."

And that's exactly what Cody did. He was STILL taking when they took the cupcakes out of the oven and started icing them with the buttercream they bought from the store.

"Noah?" Zeke waved his hand in front of Noah's face, Noah was zoning out as he listened to Cody, just staring at him starry-eyed.

"Huh?" Noah shook his head, snapping out of his daze.

"You were staring at Cody again."

"Right." Noah pinched the bridge of his nose. "You almost done icing?"

"We finished five minutes ago." Zeke clarified as he watched Cody rush to the living room with the cupcakes.

"Movie time!" Cody called out excitedly, hopping from foot to foot as he stared at the two.

Soon they were all sitting on the couch, wrapped up in a big, fluffy blanket. Noah had the tray of cupcakes on his lap so Cody wouldn't immediately eat them all - especially since he loved sugar - so Cody had to deal with the DVD. Cody tapped his foot on the ground as he slid the DVD into the DVD player before laying back on the couch.

Ezekiel smiled and nuzzled against Noah, who was sitting in the middle. Zeke had his eyes glued to the screen, not wanting to miss any detail, Noah lightly nudged Zeke.

"You have to blink, you know." Noah grinned as Zeke looked at him with wide eyes before blinking slowly, making Noah laugh.

Cody started whispering stuff like "it's getting to the good part now!" to Zeke, who was starting to fall asleep.

"He's cute when he's tired." Cody cooed.

"Yeah, he is."

"Oh shit, the cupcakes must be cold now."

"Goddamnit." Noah muttered as he picked up a cupcake and took a bite, discovering that it was, indeed, cold. Cody snickered, letting his head fall against Noah's shoulder.

"I can't believe you didn't fall asleep first."

"Me neither," Noah sighed, "we should get to bed, shouldn't we?"

"Yeah."

"Who's gonna carry Zeke?"

"Not it!" Cody grinned and tapped his nose.

Noah rolled his eyes. "Of course."

Noah dumped Zeke on the bed before grabbing his pyjamas and going to the bathroom to change, leaving Cody and Ezekiel alone. Cody smiled down at the sleeping boy, he still had his hat on too. Cody wondered what he was dreaming about. He gently rested his hand on Zeke's head.

"You STILL haven't changed, huh?" Noah smirked and looked down at Cody.

"Huh? Oh yeah, right." Cody got up. "Don't look man!" Noah nodded and looked away as Cody changed.

"Should we wake Zeke up?" Cody asked as he sat down on the bed in his boxers.

"Probably. He can't sleep in his dirty farm clothes."

Noah shook Zeke awake, who slowly opened his eyes and looked up at Noah, smiling.

"You gotta change, man." Cody held out Zeke's pyjamas to him.

Eventually, they ended up snuggled up in bed next to eachother, Noah had ended up in the middle, with Zeke clinging to him like a koala. Cody had his arms loosely wrapped around Noah. It might've been the most comfort Noah had ever experienced. And it was perfect.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hey gang I hope you like this :33333 It's supposed to be way more simple than the jacnoah fic, but I had a GREAT time writing it.

[star-quill]

would love your take on enemies to lovers neighbour!peter plsplspls 🥹🥹

nsfw or not totally up to you lady

okokok omg im so excited abt this

so like it all starts at a neighbourhood barbecue. you don't recognise him so you ask around about who he is. a few people aren't sure themselves until you ask the old guy who lives across the street to you. turns out he's his grandfather and he only moved back a month ago.

you go up and introduce yourself, welcome him to the neighbourhood and admittedly, he's a bit of a douchebag at first. not really saying much, just drinking his beer and nodding along to what ur saying. after a few minutes u just give up the conversation and move on to talk to someone else.

the next week you bump into him on a walk round the neighbourhood but he just nods at you and moves along. you just think he's not a very talkative person until the next week when ur invited to his grandfather's birthday party.

ur in the kitchen pouring urself a glass of ice cold water when he walks in. ur about to speak to him until he just walks past and goes up the stairs. when he comes back down u confront him.

"look.. i have no idea what ur problem is with me, but i'd like to know.."

"i don't have one.."

"i'm trying to be a friendly neighbour, i'm trying to be nice—"

"i don't need nice.. i need you to get out my way.."

"not until u tell me why u, for some reason, hate me."

"i don't want to be the focal point of the neighbourhood.. big whoop i moved in with my grandfather, u'd think i'm a fucking local celeb the way people want to ask me shit all the fucking time.."

"well i'm sorry for being nice.. jesus.."

"well don't be."

"asshole." u muttered as u moved out his way, going back to the freezer to grab some ice.

"i heard that."

"yeah? good."

maybe it was the sun blaring down through the windows, or the heated conversation but in some way shape or form he now had you in his bed, his lips against your neck. his teeth grazed your skin as he pressed against you further, feeling him through his jeans and your thin underwear under your sundress.

he acted nice to you in public after that, offering to help around the house when in reality he was just looking for a quick fuck. he was going back to his old ways, he should've hated himself but the way you were always ready and willing for him, he just couldn't give you up. he would have you aby way he could. on your bed as he fucked u missionary, in the shower against the tiled wall and in the kitchen on his knees, his head buried between your legs as you burn the food you were cooking—to which u then return the favour after he put up a shelf in ur kitchen, u on ur knees, one of his hands fisted in ur hair while he was filling up your mouth.

and you were determined to get him riled up. every barbecue, you'd purposely flirt with the nearest single guy, knowing peter would get angry when he'd catch you. you laughed so much louder than you normally would, hand reaching out for the other man's arm, feeling him up almost. peter would come over then, join in the conversation until the other man would walk away and peter would just tell you to leave and go back home. you knew he'd follow suit in 5 minutes.

"you gonna tell me what the fuck that was back there?"

"you didn't like it?"

"of course i fucking didn't like it."

"is someone.. jealous?"

"what? no.. i—"

"we're not exclusive peter."

"no, i know that.. but.."

"but what?"

he was standing in your kitchen, hands grabbing the countertop edge, knuckles going white as he gripped even harder.

"but i want us to be.. shit, i really thought i hated you.. but then we slept together and fuck, the sex was so fucking good.."

holy shit. he was about to confess everything to you.

"and i kinda realised.. i want to do it all the time.. but y'know.. sometimes less hate-fuelled.."

"peter, i.."

"just.. shh.." he had rounded the countertop now, stood chest to chest with you as his arm went round your waist, pulling you towards him.

"let me kiss you.."

"o-ok.."

and fuck, was it good. there was zero hate behind it, it was soft, gentle, loving. he even smiled against your lips. you were so giddy, your arms around his shoulder as u felt him lift u up, sitting u on the countertop. his hands ran up and down ur thighs while he kissed u, moving down to ur neck and u just smiled, ur face turning a soft shade of pink. once he pulled away, u whined at the loss of contact.

"i know i did this wrong but.. do u wanna have dinner with me sometime? like a real, proper date.."

"yeah.. yeah i'd like that.."

[wannaeatramyeon]

Goo Kim x Reader: Cookies (feat Gun)

Goo and Gun at the bakery for you

Goo loves you, y'know.

It has sorta become a tradition that when one of you is ill, whatever the ill person want, the ill person gets.

And you're there on your deathbed, head full of cold, with a craving for cookies. Not just any cookies, the ones from that extra special fancy little bakery you just love.

So here Goo waits.

With Gun impatiently by his side, wishing death upon Goo and death upon you because at least he would never be dragged into these mundane bullshit situations again. Why the fuck is he here when there's minors to cripple and hospitalise? Seriously, jesus fucking christ-

"Next!"

Disregarding Gun's grumbles, Goo shuffles forward and rocks excitedly back and forth.

Just one more person to serve, and then it's his turn! Only, Goo checks his watch, 5 minutes until close and there are loads left! Well, not loads loads, but there's more than a dozen. Surely enough for you and for the customer in front-

"I'll take the whole lot, please!"

What the FUCK!

"HEY!" Goo lunges just short of the aforementioned customer, "YOU CAN'T DO THAT!"

After paying and receiving her bag of goodies, the little granny with kind eyes amplified by round glasses, smiles up sweetly at Goo.

"I'm so sorry young man. I'm seeing my family today and want to share these with my children and grandchildren. I absolutely love this place and have been raving about it. It's been so long since I've seen them so I thought I would bring a treat. Ever since my husband died-"

Goo stands there agape, seeing red as she rambles on. Who the fuck cares, you just bought all the fucking cookies.

Respect your elders? He swears he will sock that old bitch in the mouth. He hopes she and the rest of her whole family chokes on those delicious cookie crumbs!

"YOU OLD HAG-"

Gun immediately clamps a hand around Goo's idiot mouth and holds him back.

With Goo struggling in his arms, he gives the friendly granny a polite nod as she waddles away with her bag full of baked goods; blissfully ignorant and not knowing how close she was to getting slapped by an irate blonde.

.

.

Outside the bakery, the sun is shining, there's a gentle autumn breeze, and the evening is beautiful.

Goo doesn't feel the sun. He doesn't feel the breeze.

The sun is shit and the breeze is shit and the evening is shit. He lives in darkness now, he doesn't deserve your love, he can never be happy again.

Dejectedly cradling his bag of crap, he wonders how he could go home to face you, his beloved. He bought what he could, some deliciously sweet and overpriced monstrosities, but it's not a cookie.

Really, Goo should thank his lucky stars that the main cause of grief in his life are goddamn fucking cookies. But.

It's still not a cookie. It's not what you asked for.

What if your sniffly nose and sore throat took a turn and you're dying? What if you're actually dead right now and the last thing you wanted was a cookie and he couldn't do that for you?

"Hey," Gun elbows him, snapping him out of his distress, "Look."

Literally standing a few metres away appears to be a father and daughter. He's wiping crumbs from her mouth, and- what's that in her hands?! Goo's eyes hone in on her little bag of cookies like a hawk.

"KID!!" he screeches, jumping over and crouching down to her height as she stares at this funny, weird man.

"How many cookies you got left?"

She peers into her bag, takes her time counting, then holds up four fingers, "Four!"

"How about I trade you this," Goo opens his bag of baked goods, "For your cookies?"

The little girl shakes her head, pigtails following the movement.

"Kid, don't you know these are more expensive." Another shake, "AND SEE! Icing! Sprinkles! Don't you kids love icing and sprinkles?"

The little girl shakes her head once more and Goo's eyes bug out.

For fuck's sake. Gun pinches the bridge of his nose, considering punting the kid or Goo, whoever is closest.

Whatever.

Taking a deep breath and ignoring Goo, who is on the verge of tears and a mental breakdown, Gun opts for the logical choice and approaches the father instead.

"This guy," Gun points at Goo, now wallowing pathetically on the ground, "Will give you 100,000 won for those cookies."

Seriously?! Just as Dad is about to say fuck yes, he takes a step back and eyes them up. Their impeccably tailored designer suits, their excrutiatingly expensive watches, their general aura of 'fuck you' money-

"500,000."

Gun shrugs, it's not his cash, "Deal."

Heh, suckers. Dad squats down to his daughter. With the experience of being on the wrong end of a screaming tantrum one too many times, he promises toys and TV time and whatever the hell she wants, in exchange for the bag of cookies.

Obediently, and with a peppy smile, she hands them over to him.

Dad holds the bag out in one hand to Gun, and pointedly, his other cash-less palm.

Gun nudges Goo, currently rolling around forlornly on the floor, with his foot, "Pony up, you fucking moron."

Holy shit, Goo could kiss Gun right now. Goo springs up in joy.

Finally! These motherfucking cookies!

Is that the warmth of the sun he can feel? The refreshing breeze? And isn't this evening magical-

Hold the fuck on. Unwelcome clarity slams into him. Five hundred fucking thousand won?!

With tears in his eyes, Goo digs out his wallet and forks over the cash.

[secret-smut-sideblog]

The Mockingbird

Lavellan x Blackwall

PG-13 - morning after contraception, betrayal, (medical) shock, terror, animal abuse, child death, violence, out of body experience, eye trauma, seizure, catatonic state, loss of vision

Chasing after the trail of her runaway love, Vella is forced to see his crimes firsthand...

Masterlist, Prev Chapter

-

Vella trotted down to the gardens. Head swimming with anxiety.

She didn't have time for this, but it wasn't optional.

"Ah, there you are." Morrigan appraised her.

"I'm sorry, we can't have a full chat yet. I need a favor."

"Oh?"

"Could you make me a witherstalk potion? Quickly?"

"I could..." She tilted her head at Vella. "But, you're bedding the Grey Warden...?"

Vella stared at her. Lost to the question.

"Did he... insinuate that you needed it?"

"Yes, why? Wait, what am I missing?"

"A Warden of his years shouldn't be able to sire children. I can still make that potion, if it gives you peace of mind."

"Yes, please." Vella sighed. "Maybe it's silly, but..."

"Oh, I understand. Does one no good to take chances." Morrigan beckoned her forward.

-

"This Mornay, any of us know him? Or of him?" Bull offered.

"Nah, but Beardy clearly does. Hope he's alright."

"Sera, you get softer by the day." Dorian praised. "But I have heard of Rainier. Mean figure he's alleged to cut, that one."

"Wait, so have I." Vella recalled, nearly pausing the fast clip of her stride. The chatter of Val Royeaux echoed in front of them. "A note, what feels like forever ago, in the Exalted Plains. He was a captain, if I recall correctly?"

"Orlesian army, yes. Let's hope he's not involved."

They moved into the crowd at the gallows. Vella searched but saw no sign of him in those gathered.

Anxiety hot in her belly. Unable to stop thinking of his note.

There is little I can say that will ease this pain. Just know that while it hurt to leave, it would've hurt more if I stayed. I will always love you, dove. I am deeply sorry.

As the bailiff read off the crimes and punishment, Vella stared at the man with a noose laced around his throat. The fight completely gone from him. Accepting his fate with a mournful stare. Not even giving last words, lost to the certainty of death.

Vella sucked in a breath, preparing to watch a man die.

"Stop!"

Blackwall stormed on the gallows, commanding in his thundering voice. Proclaiming the man's innocence, challenging the conviction.

"Oh, what have you gotten yourself into, big man?" Bull sighed.

Vella stared up at him. Fear tight in her gut.

"Then find me the man who gave the order." The bailiff stepped forward, staring him down.

Blackwall's silence fell like freezing rain as he turned to the crowd.

"No..." Vella breathed as her stomach dropped through the earth. "Blackwall!"

His eyes found hers. Shock, fear, then cold conviction. All warmth lost.

"No, I am not Blackwall. I never was Blackwall."

Her ears rang with fast blood.

And still he confessed. That he had ordered the massacre. That he had been hiding behind a dead man's likeness. That he had been living a lie.

"I gave the order. The crime is mine. I am Thom Rainier."

Her blood ran ice.

His eyes stayed steady on her, even as the executioner and bailiff drew forward. Only breaking from her stare as he stalked away towards the prison.

Vella nearly fell to knees.

The world slid away beneath her.

A landslide ripped it all from under her feet.

"Vella...?" Dorian's eyes took up her shaky vision.

"I don't..." She breathed. Raising her hand to stare at the tremoring limb. The cold of shock left her mind sluggish. "I..."

"Bull?"

"Here, boss. Lean on me."

His large hand took up behind her shoulder, sliding her close. Vella turned her face into him, trembling uncontrolled. Letting his arms envelop her for a warm moment. Pulling away a little less delirious.

"I need to see him." She shuddered.

"Let's go, then." Sera nodded. Her voice thick behind the knot in her throat. "You better give whatever-his-name-is a piece of your mind. Shit ass."

-

Vella descended down the stairs. Her footstep silent, wearing the boots he made her.

How?

Passing cages of iron. Reality bending around her. The question circling her like a hungry hound.

How?

After all this time. He was one of them.

How?

The home of him had flooded. A place she felt such warmth she now drowned in cold waters.

When she saw him slouched in a cell, she froze. He stayed doubled over on his forearms. Refusing her.

They stood on a razor edged silence.

"I don't understand." Her heart rabbited against her chest. "I can't..."

He kept his eyes to the ground.

She came to kneel at the bars, searching his face. Searching for him.

There must be something.

"Please, get up." He growled.

Her eyes stayed on him. Seeking a change. Anything. Anything to prove that he was a different man. Desperate to separate the man she knew from the one sat before her.

"It can't be true. I would've seen it. I would've..."

Shock filled her limbs again.

Memory flooded her. All of his evasion. All of the vague responses.

It was right there. He was her blindspot.

How could she be blind to him?

"It is." His eyes finally met hers. Glaring ice into her. Standing and charging towards the bars. Shouting with the full of his chest. "This is what I am! You aren't supposed to be here! Leave!"

She backpedaled from the bars. Falling back onto her palm. An angry man bearing down on her again.

An old fear woven inside of her shock.

No, not shock.

A hand made of lightning grasped the base of her skull. Forcing her eyes wide open. Risen high onto knees.

A song of Mockingbird. A dog strung up by the throat. A mother's arm shielding. The slam of an axe into wood. The scream of a dog. The scream of a child. Her own scream, far away. Far under her.

Her voice begging. A father begging. Begging for them to stop. For it to stop. His hand reaches for a blade. Her hand. Someone shouts for her. For them to run. Seeing her hand underneath her. Don't they understand? The dog won't stop kicking. The child begs to not see.

Her hand fights her as it lifts the blade. The father's blade is kicked away. And still the child screams. Horses panicked. Trying to break loose. She forces her hand up. Eyes wide open but not seeing the blade. Someone is shouting again. Someone so familiar. It won't stop.

"Please, make it stop." She breathes. Blood trickles from her nose. Blood dark on the snow. Blood scratched into fence. A deep sting scratches under her eye.

"Vella, NO!"

Someone grabs her wrist. Knocking the blade from her hand. Chestnut eyes fill her vision.

Her mind comes to it's boiling point. Fever sends her eyes up into her skull. Feeling the first tremors wracking her body as it all goes dark.

-

"She was trying to blind herself."

Cullen's shaken voice.

She spins inside her body. A hand presses a cool rag to her forehead.

"You did well to arrive when you did." Solas' calm voice.

"Please, don't leave her alone." Cullen urged. His hand comes to her chest. Pressing a warm palm. "She... she helped me. When I was weak. I can't... I'll kill him, I swear..."

"We shall tend her." Morrigan's voice reassures.

Cullen's warm palm stays. She reaches for it. A tether. It pulls away again.

"Where are you?" Solas whispers in her ear.

"Apostate, keep reaching for her. She may find her way back."

A cool hand cups her cheek. She tries to focus. Forcing the touch to a narrow point. A rope she follows.

"Yes." Solas speaks in her tongue. "You are right here. Can you find me?"

She follows it up. Filling into her limbs again.

Her hand reaches out for him. Meeting the curve of his fingers. Her eyes slowly focus.

"Lethallin...?" She croaked. Solas' eyes creased with a smile.

"Welcome back."

She blinked at the low candlelight. Vision obstructed over an eye.

"What...?" She rose on an elbow. Gingerly touching the bandage.

"Gentle. You gave yourself a deep gouge." Solas led her fingers away.

"Quite a scare you've given." Morrigan sat on her opposite bedside.

"Yes. We were all concerned. You had been lost all night." Solas cupped her hand in her lap.

"Blackwall!" She gasped, sitting up sharply. Immediately dizzy.

"Careful. Rainier is safe." Solas assured.

"Rainier..." Her heart deflated in her chest. "Oh..."

"Josephine has sent for him. You were calling for him in your sleep, well, for Blackwall. Bear. He's being transferred to the Skyhold cells."

Awful memory returned to her. A throb of numb in her chest. Rising her palm to it.

And, just like that, she was empty.

Din. One who isn't.

All empty.

All shattered.

Cutting into her with every breath.

No tears came. No screaming or wailing or begging. Just the dull throb of utter absence.

"I will tell the others you've woken." Solas patted her hand and retreated from the room.

She sat silent for a long moment.

"Morrigan?"

"Yes?"

"Could you help me?"

Morrigan leaned her head inquisitive. Waving for her to continue.

"I don't want to see anymore. Is there a way to blind me?"

Morrigan turned fully on the bed toward her.

"Literally? Yes, that is very easy done. But I imagine you mean your sight beyond?"

She nodded.

"I've had enough. I don't want to see again. I can't do it anymore."

Morrigan went quiet in front of her. Folding her arms in thought.

"Well, we may not need Dirthamen's gift after all. I have something that will give us another advantage."

Din looked up.

"You may have had the right instinct. If your physical eyes are blinded..."

Morrigan stood and started to pace.

"Yes... it could force it to compensate. Keep it busy. If the whole world is a secret, that would hold priority."

Turning to her to stare determined.

"You wouldn't see, not like now. But it could release you."

Her chest filled with tender hope.

"Do it."

"Let me prepare. I'll consult some texts."

-

"Vella?"

She glanced down at him.

"That isn't my name."

"Ah." Solas smiled sadly. Climbing up the ladder.

They seemed truly determined not to leave her alone. Cullen walked with her the last few nights. Letting her lean on him as she eventually got wobbly. Shrouding her in his cloak. Sometimes, he took her hand. His warm and calloused. Giving a soft squeeze. Speaking sweetly as she spiraled.

"Then what shall I call you?" He offered, sitting next to her on the scaffolding. Both stared at the circle of his fresco.

"Lethallan is nice." She handed him a cup of lemon and cayenne honey.

"Ah, thank you." He sipped at the cup, eyes closing for a moment. "That's lovely. What is it?"

"Something I used to make when I was ill." She circled her fingers over the rim. "Small comforts, you know?"

She marveled at the murals

"But this is all so beautiful. You have a vision."

"You're too kind. They're about you."

She stared at him. Heart raw.

"Show me."

So he did. Pointing from mural to mural. Each a moment of her journey. Each a turning point. Explaining the significance of the choices.

"Wouldn't it have been easier to write it down?" She raised an eyebrow with a sly smile, then let it fall. It felt wrong to play. Cupping the mug in her hands.

"You take me for a scribe?" His voice picked up a rare tease. Despite herself, she smiled again.

"Just another way to spread knowledge. But it is much less breathtaking." She leaned her head back, closing her weary eyes.

She could feel his eyes on her.

"You've stopped singing."

Her eyes opened.

"What?"

"I hear you. At night. Why have you stopped?"

"I just..." Her heart dully ached, but still no tears came. "I think something is broken in me. I can't find the joy again."

He studied her quietly.

"Your vhenan, Rainier..."

"I don't want to talk about it."

They both sat in the inflamed wound. All tender edges. Weeping blood with the beat of her heart.

Solas leaned forward, urging her eyes back to him.

"You helped me. When I needed to find peace for my elgar falon. You've been..." He closed his eyes.

"You're unexpected. Wisdom, curiosity, beauty. You've had every chance to shut the world out. Please don't take that path. Stay open."

She shook her head.

"I want to. I do. But I don't know how to stay soft anymore."

He took a deep breath out. Resolving something.

"Let me help you."

Her eyes met his.

"Then Morrigan is right?"

He nodded.

"But you must meet me in the Fade first. Dream, Lethallan. I will follow."

"I can't."

"I will lead you."

She laid back on the scaffolding, resting her hands on her belly. Solas laid parallel to her.

Her body fell fast. Sleep enveloped her as a plunge into the sea.

"Solas?"

She looked around a great forest. An awe near fear sharp in her chest.

"I'm here." He cupped her forearm gently. "Forgive me, I forgot dreaming is foreign to you."

"It's so... it's breathtaking." Her eyes met his again. "Is this what it's always like?"

"Not for most. But my traveling is like this, yes."

He led her by the curve of her fingers to sit on a stone near the water.

"And perhaps, yours shall be too."

She looked up at him. Surprise heavy in her heart. Hope a poison she held in her mouth, ready to swallow.

"If your tie to Dirthamen is weakened, it may let you sleep like this. To dream. But yours is a heavy gift to discard."

His eyes searched hers. Seeking confirmation. Permission.

She held his hand in hers.

"I'm sure. This is what I want. I want to have my own mind. I want to be free."

He stared down at their joined hands for a moment. Rubbing her thumb experimentally with his.

"If that is the case, I must tell you something."

He turned her hand to stare at her palm, running a soft fingertip over the lines.

"The vallasin. I have journeyed far enough to discover what it truly means. They are slave markings. From the time of ancient Arlathan. When the Pantheon ruled elves."

"So my people were wrong." She nodded. Saddened, but not surprised. "Our history is so muddled, I could see it being mistranslated over time."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Thank you. For telling me." She sighed.

"If you like, I know a spell... I can remove the vallasin with your sight."

She lifted her hand to gently touch her face. Giving the ink a tender moment.

"This tattoo has kept me safe. It was subterfuge. A mask. But, I will no longer need it, will I?"

Solas rubbed her thumb, a silent assurance.

"Do it. It has served me well. I will discard it fondly."

He smiled, raising his hands to cradle the air around her face.

"Close your eyes."

"Wait."

She looked around the misty grove. Drinking in the full of the scenery.

"I'm grateful it was a beautiful dream. The last thing I saw. Thank you for bringing me here."

He paused, staring at her with soft eyes.

"Okay, I'm ready." She let her eyes fall closed again.

"You will feel some discomfort, but no pain. I couldn't let Morrigan butcher you. To send you to the dark that way."

She smiled with her eyes closed.

"She was just going to pour some acid in my eyes, wasn't she?"

"You're not far off. Now hush."

She smiled wide.

His hands were warm and tingled along her face, a light visible beyond her lids.

"It tickles!" She stifled her giggle.

He laughed.

"You are a strange, wonderful thing."

"Was that the vallasin?"

"Yes, keep your eyes closed, sulahn."

His palms settled on her temples.

"Song. I like that." She sighed in Elvhen.

"I hope you find a new name." He whispered.

His palms lifted slowly, and she could feel something pull behind her eyes. Squeezing her shut eyes to not squirm.

Then she felt it. A gentle pop. Something separating. Flashes of light filled her vision.

She opened her eyes as a curtain of dark fell. Gasping as it all fell to void. Eyes wide but seeing only velvet dark.

"Now... what do you see?"

She concentrated, feeling for sight deep inside her.

Just as she was about to give up, something bloomed. Gasping out as the world filled around her.

A circle of sight extended around her, definition of shapes like fine shifting sand. Color was gone, the world only shades of light and dark. Vision sliding along the physical as wind.

She reached for the stone beneath her, entranced by the sight of her own hand. The same thin particles dancing around her skin.

"Solas, it's..." She lifted her eyes.

"Oh..."

His body was ringed in many ribbons of soft blue light. Moving in languid circled rivers. Eyes glowing in it.

"Oh, Solas..." She marveled. Lifting her hand to gently twist her fingers in it.

He shuddered, pulling her wrist down.

"I'm sorry." She breathed.

"You're forgiven." He smiled. His face spectral in the shifting dark. "How do you feel?"

She closed her eyes. The vision slowly faded. Only imprints left. Then she opened them again. It refilled as gentle as before.

Her head was quiet. Tears bubbled on her waterline. Cupping a hand over her mouth.

"It's quiet. Oh Gods, it's so quiet. I've never felt peace like this."

She saught his eyes again. "And I can sleep? I can dream?"

"Yes." The soft triumph in his voice filled her heart.

"I've never done it before. I might need a guide."

His smile ached her heart. Cupping her hands in his again.

"I will find you. But now you must wake."

-

Din kneeled in the garden, focusing on a rose bush. Smiling at the way the particles danced around it. All shapes were made of silt caught in the flow of her river. The intricate layer of petals entranced her.

She wasn't used to the passage of time quite yet, but knew it was night. A new set of conditions she had to live by, ones she was eager to learn.

"Vella? Oh, sorry... I guess I don't know what to call you." Josephine called out sheepishly.

"Sera has too many offers, but Solas came up with Sulahn." She offered brightly.

"Hmm, that is pretty." Josie smiled.

If she focused, she could see the color of her. A warm orange that glowed deep at the crest of her ribs, under her heart. A sunset.

The color was much more potent around mages. Though, not as much as Solas'. She had already dipped her fingers into Dorian's deep crimson river. A sensation he found delightfully tantalizing.

"You seem so much better." Josephine sighed contented. Kneeling with her for a moment. "And no tattoo! But I'm sorry it had to be like..." She gestured to her blindfold. "This."

"You can see me, right?" Josephine held up her hand flat.

Din pressed her palm to hers.

"Yes, I can."

"That's remarkable."

She let out a deep sigh. "Blackwa- Rainier will be here by morning."

Josephine took her hand gently in hers.

"Do you think you're ready? To see him?"

"With new eyes..." She sighed. "I think so."

"I'm so sorry. I know his lie has been devastating."

"It still doesn't feel real. I still haven't cried." She pressed her palm to her heart, if only to confirm its beat. "Gods, it seemed like I couldn't stop crying before. Now I'm just..."

"Numb?" Josephine offered sadly.

"Yeah. So much of myself was braided into him. Having him severed... I don't know who I am here. I feel like I have to start over. I'm exhausted. I dont want to start over."

Tears finally started to pool in her eyes.

"Oh... there they are." She smiled. Wiping gently with the side of her thumb under the mask. Staring down at the shades of her hand. The light fluid slipped down her thumb.

"Are they..." She looked up at Josephine.

"Still silver. Sorry."

"It's okay. I've gained more than enough."

"You will have to sit in his judgment." Josephine sighed, taking her hands again. "Do you know what you'll say?"

She shook her head.

"Could you do something for me?" She hushed.

"Of course." Josephine smiled.

Din pulled off her blindfold.

"Could you tell me what you see?"

She opened her eyes. Staring at the beautiful shift of her face.

Josephine studied the whole of her face with parted lips, her sweet eyes centered back on hers.

"Well, that cut is going to scar, but your eyes are surprisingly beautiful. Like clouds caught behind your pupil. The color is gone, though. In your iris. But it's almost like moonstone. Melding with the white."

She leaned toward her. Voice falling to hush as she spoke.

"And I feel like I can see you now, without the tattoo. You have perfect freckles. Sun-kissed cheeks. Your lips are so..."

Her mouth slid into hers. So softly kissing into her. Just as Din started to lean in, she pulled away.

"Andraste's Mercy, I am so sorry!"

"I'm not." She breathed, pulling her back. Josie whimpered into her hungry kiss. Rising onto knees with her. Din's hand cupped under her ear. Breathing hard through the part of their lips.

"Thank you." She whispered when she pulled away. Josie's pupils were full blown, staring at her with sweet doe eyes. "I needed that. Maybe I'm not empty, after all."

"Happy to help." Josephine breathed.

She pressed a hand to Josephine's glow.

"It's orange. Your light. Marigold."

Josephine looked up at her. Letting out a dreamy sigh.

"I see why you have all the men in camp following like puppies. Mercy..."

"Ha, but I haven't kissed any of them yet. Maybe I'll start with Cullen."

"Don't." Josie laughed, pulling her to stand. Leading her hand over a bent arm. "That man is too sweet to not fall sword first."

"All you knights and ladies..." She laughed. "Nobody has fun, do they?"

"Absolutely not." Josephine patted her hand. "But we try."

~

Next Chapter

[izvmimi]

a/n: not me butting into other people's aus but i love @strawberrystepmom's kakashi x reader au so much!!!

cw: alcohol mention. reader is at brunch with a friend (oc)!

"so you're fucking the hokage, huh?"

you nearly spit out the drink in your mouth while maemi looks at you, unphased by the words coming out of her mouth, and stirs her drink. it's 11am, there's relentless hustle and bustle at this outdoor restaurant, and the soft breeze of early spring is not enough to abate the heat rising from your mostly bare shoulders up to your jawline.

"shhh!!!" you hiss, leaning in, as though you're suddenly surrounded by reporters. maemi blinks.

"damn, you didn't even argue with me." she laughs as your complexion reddens even more, and takes another bite of eggs benedict. you're covering your face now, embarrassment thick and unrelenting, and she chews and swallows before leaning in.

"don't worry, no one is listening in. plus i'm pretty good at misdirection - good grades in genjutsu class, remember?" she insists.

you shoot her a dirty look before rising to a regular sitting position, and adjusting the pleats of your spring dress.

"fine, a codename." maemi suggests. "are we going with your usual?"

you sigh. "That Man and I have not fucked yet."

maemi looks at you, contemplating, then takes another bite.

"he's fingered you under the table, right?" she asks.

"please!"

maemi takes a sip of her mimosa, nonchalant, and gulps it down a little too quick. "manabu told me, and if he knows, more people know than you think."

your blood seems to run cold, or is it early spring chill? you can't tell. her partner doesn't seem like the gossipy type, but he does work close enough to the hokage's office that it is feasible that he's heard something - or worse, heard something.

"you know, i could tell that once you started this job it would end up like this." she taps her forehead with the back of one of her chopsticks. "you know, the authority kink and everything?"

you take out your hand and place it on the table, palm up. "knock me out right now, to be honest." maemi looks down at your hand then looks up.

"oh no, you're gonna have to ask the alcohol to do that for you." she says, declining to waste her chakra. with that statement, she finishes the rest of her mimosa, then raises her hand up for the waiter to bring them another round of drinks. once the order is given, her eyes turn foxlike as she smiles at you again.

"hey, can you get the hokage to promote me? i'm not gonna be able to compete with nepotism baby sakura at this point, unless i have some kind of backer."

you snort. "i don't think being a former hokage's apprentice necessarily counts as nepotism. maybe she's just good."

maemi furrows her eyebrows. "listen, i may not be as good as her but i'm not garbage and i need someone powerful to back me-"

you raise a hand. "even if i WERE-" you pause, then bite your lip before continuing, "making love to current Lord Sixth-"

"is that what you call him in bed?"

you can feel your head start to pound before giggling maemi raises her own hands in defeat. "sorry, no more jokes."

you cut your eyes at her, and continue, "- what makes you think i can ask that?"

maemi leans in, brown eyes glowing with humor at her own jokes. "just give him the old spit shine and be like, so i have this really, really talented friend-"

"get out." you hiss.

your next round of drinks come, and you dig into a plate of potatoes and chase it down with iced coffee. as the conversation shifts away from the fact that you are notably entangled with the most powerful man in konoha at the moment, you consider what it might mean for your future, both as a biographer but also as someone who hopes to live quietly in this country. maemi notices you are somewhat lost in thought, and stops her tirade about the hierarchy of konoha's medical-nin, and gives you a reassuring smile.

"i know i just gave you shit, but i promise if anyone bothers you, i'll be the first one at your defense. i already told manabu to write down the names of anyone who even suggests that you're anything but sweet and sought after," she mentions. "you'll be fine."

you swallow.

"thanks."

maemi gives you another look, able to tell you're not completely reassured.

"do you love him?" she asks, her voice softer this time. "... it's not wrong if you do."

you can't give her a yes now, but you can feel your heart, slowly but surely, moving towards it.

[riveranova]

(A/N): Aaaaand mama's back! First of all, let me say how grateful I was and am to get so many messages from people sharing their stories and wishing me all the best - made me tear up multiple times not gonna lie. Thank you all so much and let's dive right back in. <3

IkePri NSFW Headcanons x GN! Reader - Part 2

Warnings: Smut | minors DNI, would this really be a Nova original if there wasn't at least a lil bit crack?, Licht's getting a little sad

Characters: Chevalier, Luke, Yves, Jin, Licht, Leon, Ikemen Prince

Word count: 690

Chevalier Michel

yk i had a thought for this one

obviously hes a top

but but, hear me out - what if he wasn't?

:)

imagine his cold, blue eyes that normally resemble a frozen lake

well that thick ice is now shattered as he's pressing his head into his pillow, trying not to wake up his annoying brothers (Clavis) while you suck him off

hes a lil bit embarrassed about the way his fists and thighs are clenched together because hes Chevalier Michel, no one makes him this weak

well, exept for you of course

but no one is allowed to find out

i think that hes a little bit bratty as a bottom

like, you want to make him beg? well beg for it.

its kind of a back and forth

but just threaten him to stop and its like a different man lies before you

just imagine him beg for you to get him off in that deep voice

Luke Randolph

i'm a huge suporter of the 'luke only cuddlefucks' theory that a great researcher (me) brought to life

i mean that man sleeps the entire day so why not, right?

he gets horny really fast, just like Gilbert

hes also big, and i dont only mean his body

big boy, gimme a big booooy-

strong hands hold you in place - in front of him, holding you against his chest while slowly fucking you from behind

100% whispers sleepy shit into your ear

honestly so sweet

idk why this is so funny to me but imagine him just falling asleep mid-sex

you're just laying there like '...uh''

lucky for you, this man is into sleep play, so just finish the job yourself~

Yves Kloss

honestly? i think hes one of those really cute and soft tops

soft tops are the best, are they not

but i don't think hes really focused on the sex part

hes a big aftercare guy

he honestly just wants to spoil you and make sure you're all pretty for him

150 step korean skincare routine after every single session without fail

bathing together with him is the most normal thing in the world

hums into your ear while massaging your shoulders

praise praise praise

i honestly think that Yves would be so fucking obsessed with you - in a non-weird way tho

if youre comfortable then he is too <3

Jin Grandet

alright, heres my completely objective take on him

daddydaddydaddydaddydaddydaddy

god i love this man so much

crush me with those honke- okay, sorry

i think hes the kind of guy who doesn't want to have one big session but like short ones scattered across the day

lil quickies yk

hes also shameless

so he just pulls you away whenever he wants to and you know what he wants

he has these 'please im so horny its not cool anymore' eyes

and if youre like me then fuck it, leggo

gives zero fucks about how loud you are

castle staff hates it when he does that but as i said

shameless (hot) asshole

Licht Klein

grumpy ass bottom

not even bratty, just grumpy as fuck

but i think thats what makes the entire thing so thrilling for him

yeah so what if he doesnt care what you do? what are you gonna do about it?

okay maybe hes a little bratty

not the guy that makes a lot of sounds while having sex

he kinda just lays there enjoying the attention hes getting from you - the sex is just a lil bonus

tries to take control on very impatient days

but nuh- uh, his moody ass is staying down

100% sure that he has these 'pls humiliate me' days

theyre rare, yeah, but getting told hes the 'bad sibling' his entire life fucked a little with his brain

pls give him aftercare

Leon Dompteur

i swear i need three tries to get his last name right every single fucking time

anyways, this mans obviously a top

he treats you like youre the deity hes praying to every single day

literally worthsips you so much

i think hes a big vanilla boi

no choking or bondage, just sweet sweet vanilla sex

his hands are huge and everywhere, like a blanket that just never ends

big praise guy too

loves to give it and absolutely thrives off of getting some back

please tell him that hes doing a good job, tell him how good his cock is making you feel

hes a big cuddler too, so get ready for some cozy aftercare <3

[call-me-a-simp]

Heal My Wounds

What are you hiding (part 28)

Rhea Ripley x Reader

Tw: physical and sexual abuse, toxic relationship, selfharm, eating disorder

Summary: You are in a toxic relationship with an abusive man but manage to run away. A tall, black haired woman picks you up from the streets just in time so your ex doesn't get you. But who is she and why does she seem so familiar to you? As you get to know each other you start to notice weird feelings you never had before whenever she's around.

Dominik drops you off at Rhea's apartment and declines your offer to come inside with you.

You're greeted by your girlfriend who seems like she couldn't have waited any longer for you to come home as she was very bored and didn't know what to do with herself.

"So, where's the dress?" she asks excitedly and pecks your cheek. "We didn't get one" you chuckle and put your purse down.

"What do you mean you didn't get one? I thought I told you to not walk outta that store without the perfect dress!" she teases you and pokes you with her index finger.

"I know, I know.." you chuckle "but it was really tiring and we got hungry so.." you shrug. "So you're gonna continue tomorrow orr..?" Rhea asks curiously.

"Yeah probably. 'M thinking 'bout also bringing some girls. Like, Dom has great taste, not gonna lie, but I think I also need some real girls opinion on it.."

Shit why' d I lie? I shouldn't do this she is my girlfriend! You begin to panic a little but try not to show her.

" 'kay, if you say so" Rhea brushes it off. But something' s different, there isn't this ease in her voice like usually. It's worrying you a little, is she suspecting something?

She walks into the kitchen to get herself something to drink and you follow her. "Is everything okay love?" you ask her carefully.

She huffs "I don't know. You tell me, is there something I should know? Cause I feel like you're keeping something from me"

Shit shit shit why didn't I tell her the truth in the first place?! Now she's mad and it's my fault!

Rhea sets her glass down and turns around, scanning you with a look as cold as ice. Her arms crossed in front of her chest.

"I- Rhea you're scaring me a little" you stutter and raise your hands in defense. She sighs and lowers her arms again "sorry darling, I just overreacted, don't worry" she tries to calm you down.

You let out a small sigh of relief and relax a little again. "Okay.. But you were right, I was hiding something.." Rhea takes a step in your direction and is standing right in front of you now.

She cups your cheeks making you look at her. "Then tell me, you know you can tell me anything" she says and gives you a sympathetic smile.

You try to smile back and nod. You exhale a shallow breath again before telling her what happened today with Dom and how you're not sure how to feel about it.

You spend a little moment in silence, you leaning against the counter with your back and Rhea standing in front of you, unsure if she should cross her arms again or touch you in some sort of form.

She eventually breaks the silence. "Okay uhm.. I don't wanna talk anything less bad here but.. I'm sure Dom didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable with his actions or anything I- I'm not sure why he did or so but.. Let's just talk it out with him okay? I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding plus your bad experiences with men, it's just not that easy I understand that"

She offers you a warm smile and you gently return the gesture, pushing yourself off the counter and into her embrace. The feeling of her warm skin on yours, your head against her chest, hearing her heartbeat.. It's just so calming and always making you feel safe.

"Okay, he's picking me up tomorrow at around ten, I'll ask Liv and Raquel if they wanna come too. Thank you Rhea!" you say and stand on your tiptoes to kiss her.

"You know it's so cute that you have to stand on your tippy toes to kiss me" Rhea giggles and you act offended and punch her slightly in the arm.

You two laugh a little and she puts her arm around you leading you to the bedroom where you decide to watch a not so creepy horrorfilm.

"You sure you wanna watch this? I remember last time you had pretty bad nightmares" "I know, but I've got you now and I really wanna see how far I can push my limits with it. I wanna see the films you like with you one day you know?" you grin at her and she smiles back.

You hit play and snuggle up to girlfriend, hiding under the covers every now and then when you think there might be a jumpscare or anything, but most of the time rhea warns you as she's already seen almost every horror movie there is.

---------------------------------------------------

Part 28.. At least I think so..

Taglist:@babybatlover @legit9thlunaticwarrior @thatonepansexual2000 @nox-fire

[dearunreliablenarrator]

Writeblr Interview Tag

thank you, thank you to @sableglass for the tag, you can catch their original post here!

Short stories, novels, or poems?

Novels! Sometimes, I think the ideas i have are too large to stay as short stories or that i couldn't capture what's needed for poems.

What genre do you prefer reading?

I've found myself dabbling a bit more into psycho thrillers now a days, otherwise the toes are buried in sci-fi, romance and the occasional philosophy book.

Are you a planner or a write as I go kind of person?

Girls/Guys/Theys', I couldn't plan a thing and stick to it if my life depended on it. I try to do both, just for consistency sake, but I often go off line anyways, but the most important scenes are always written first.

It does make editing a bitch though.

What music do you listen to while writing?

I honestly write in silence (scary i know). Otherwise, Kitchen Nightmares or Hell's Kitchen reruns are on in the back. And unless, I've already curated a playlist for what's being written, there's nothing in these ears but air.

I guess the easy answer is it depends!

Favorite books/movies?

The Menu (2022)/Bottoms (2023)/EEAAO (2022)

Song of Achilles/ A Southern Book Club's Guide to Slaying Vampires/ Act Your Age, Eve Brown.

Any current WIPs?

Cherries Under the Sun! A new branch of writing for me, I always kinda felt like I had to stick to romance and burnt myself out. So here, we have a exploration of relationships with God and life (in both destructive and favorable manners) and the horrors of which one would go to achieve what they believe to be a righteous way of living.

I don't know...religion makes people do some weird shit in the name of their god and that something I want to explore. Did I mention there are vampires?!

If someone were to make a cartoon out of you what would your standard outfit be?

wide legged pants or leggings, oversized t-shirt and pair of crocs. although, a lot of the time; i'm winnie the poohin' it.

Create a character description of yourself: 

a fluorescent beige girl with copper sister locs, tortie glasses and a slew of patchwork tattoos with facial piercings. of average height, and my clothes probably have a layer of cat hair on them. i'm probably lifting weights or somethings.

Do you like incorporating actual people you know into your writing?

Lol yes, but half of the time its not even on purpose. kid you not, in the first chapter of Where the River Bends, i've actually had a man say that to me; and that was after I wrote it. (might be a soothsayer yall) Quite the experience!

Are you kill happy with your characters?

I have yet to kill anyone, but its in the plans. ugh, its gonna be an old lady. i'm sorry in advance; but yall might not even like her so *shrugs*

Coffee or Tea while writing?

don't shoot me! but i think dr.pepper is the ultimate answer. someone should make a dr.pepper tea. 

it might be too country of me to ask for it to be cold with lots of crushed ice.

Slow or fast writer?

I'd say i have my spurts of fast writing, but i think the slower i write; the more I get out.

Where/who/what do you draw inspiration from?

Real life, i think is the most agreeable answer at the moment. I like people watching or taking my own life experience and stories I've heard over the years and not replicating them but retelling them from my lense on life; which is very...dramatic and mystical to say the least.

If you were in a fantasy world, what would you be?

Oh, theres so many options for this...but a cook/pub/tavern owner would be the first thing. I love feeding people and making sure they have a place to get warm food, and it'd be pretty cheap too! Or, house staff to some hoity-toity family, maybe get their son or daughter to fall in love with me so I can get some inheritance...but daddy, i love them kind moment

Most fav book cliche:

nerdy girl gets the jock

Least favorite cliche:

misunderstandings/miscommunication; oh god shoot me now! or the "she's hotter without her glasses" move (9x/10 the glasses are what makes them hot!)

Favorite scene to write?

Lore dumping scenes! They may be long and a little tedious to get through but they give so much insight into the smaller behaviors that characters have.

why does character A pick their nose comfortably in public? cause once upon a time; their grammy said it was okay and it's better than having it hang in there all day with people noticing!

I think my favorite so far though, is Warren and Sabryna's talk after a disastrous dinner. It was something in that moment, that they both really needed. Tough conversations equals great rewards in this case.

Reason for writing?

Cause I can! I mean; I'd really come to hate myself if i didn't let these ideas meet the paper or the keyboard in this matter. I think its very freeing to create something of your own, just getting past what others may think is the hard part.

and yall i cant draw for shit besides doodles so i guess writing is it for me.

no pressure tags below! sorry if you were double tagged! @rumeysawrites @inadequatecowboy @lady-grace-pens @tito-sober @shepardsherd @dyrewrites @goldfinchwrites @caninecomplex

[ashflamethewaffleangel]

I've been browsing the WoJ website, as one does, and realized just how excited Mr. Author seems to write Mirror Mirror Marcone, and now I'm very excited for that book too.

Do you have any theories about how that will go? Will Marcone be a good guy? 👀 Omg what if he went from the army to law enforcement. Imagine what that man could do in SI. ⚰️

YOU HONOR ME WITH THIS QUESTION HOLY SHIT (so very genuine; you are my beloved Dresden Files mutual) but bear with me because this is gonna be a long post. I have toooo many thoughts. God I'm sorry. /jov

BUT GOD. YOU HAVE HIT THE QUESTION I REPEATEDLY THEORIZE WITH MY PARTNERS. OUUUGH. There are SO many ways this could go I am gonna be SO very real and I love every single one of them bc it keeps my brain shoomvin'!

But considering WOJ has mentioned that this particular universe is ours but gone to shit MUCH quicker due to one of Harry's earlier decisions "Mirror universe Harry is different by one choice. One. And everything else just follows after that." WHICH MEANS. WHICH MEANS EVERYTHING STAYS THE SAME. UP TO THAT CHOICE. (I can't remember how early, so it could be a pre-books decision, or it could be a in-canon alternate decision) so Marcone depending on how early in the canon it is, I see a couple different options!!

NOW OBVIOUUUSLY. There are an ABSURDDDD Number of choices Harry coulda done EXTREEEEMELY DIFFERENT!!!! However. one that comes to mind-- at least if he's talking early series!! and from the sounds of it, he is, because he says everything goes to shit a lot fucking faster than our timeline-- is in Fool Moon.

Marcone gives Harry a choice in the Fool Moon garage; sign on and become an employee of his, or die by the people he's trying to protect Harry from. Marcone ALSO gives Harry the choice to stay off the case in Book 1.

What if Harry chose EITHER of these options? What if he stayed off the Victor Sells case? The entire series spiraled from there--- THAT'S THE REASON MARCONE CAME TO HIM FOR HELP IN BOOK 2!!! MARCONE, UPON NOT BEING ABLE TO GET HARRY'S HELP, RESORTED TO FBI AGENTS WHO BETRAY HIM AND TRIED TO FEED HIM TO A LOUP-GAROU. AND THEY WOULD'VE GOTTEN AWAY WITH IT IF IT WEREN'T FOR EVERYONE ELSE (including Harry) STUCK IN THE PIT BELOW WITH HIM.

Now Jim has said he's very excited to write Marcone; so I imagine he's not fucking dead but. What if this series of events leads him to Nicodemus instead of Monoc? What if he becomes a knight of the Denarius THAT FUCKIN EARLY so he could better protect Chicago?; ESPCIALLY SINCE HARRY HASN'T KINDA LED HIM THROUGH TRIAL BY FIRE AND SAVED HIS ASS ON MULTIPLE OCCASIONS (as does Marcone vice versa).

But if Fool Moon has the changing point, then we've got a different route; Harry working for Marcone. That now begs the question of-- Would that have made everything gone to shit that much faster??????? Maybe !! As a consultant for Marcone? And telling him all the BULLSHIT that the White Council does? That the Red Court is doing? In his city?? Our evil Harry might be Marcone's enforcer-- as Mister Jimothy mentions, "If [Harry] was Lawful Evil I’m pretty sure he’d be Marcone’s enforcer."

Or might have been, at one point, in this particular universe. Either way, a very DELIGHTFUL choice of thought, but probably not where Mister Butcher is gonna take it.

Option 2; Marcone is FBI/Special Investigations -- LAW ENFORCEMENT TIME BABYYYYY!!! LAWFUL EVIL MAN STILL ON HIS LAWFUL ACT BUT THIS TIME IN THE MORE LITERAL SENSE! (/very jovial) I see this one happening if it's a complete Star Trek Mirror Mirror moment; he's still a powerhouse, he's still an ice-cold mf, but he's more of a deadly serious Fox Mulder, especially if the same event took place that made Marcone-- well-- Marcone! I'd see him being the same type of character, but more on the ground this time around; like he was in White Knight type beat; manpower and in-the-know folks taking down monsters to protect the citizens. Maybe he'll be giving our Harry a helping hand!! Especially if Harry is being framed for, you know, MURDER, as it's being told to us. Maybe we'll be having a soul-gaze, and because (I PRESUME) this universe's duo has already shared a soul-gaze it's a "Oh. Yeah no you're not lying. What. The fuck. Okay." OR, he's one of our main obstacles! BOTH ! AND!!!! Considering that Mister Butcher mentioned that we'll maybe be seeing something related to Marcone's capital n Name in this book... Definitely a possibility.

Option 3; He's literally just a guy! -- Less likely of the options? Yes. Still an interesting thought experiment? Also yes! This is ALSO based on this specific WOJ;

Q: I read the short story from Marcone’s point of view, “Even Hand,” and I noticed that John Marcone is not his real name. Is that going to be significant? Sure is if somebody tries to cast a spell at him using the name “John Marcone”! That’ll be a big deal. But we’ll have to see how that works out. Actually, the character that’s really interesting is the Mirror Mirror universe Marcone, and we’ll get to him in a few books.

Maybe! He's not John Marcone! Or, more accurately, he's the Marcone we see in Helen Beckitt's vision! Maybe he's still that charming motorcyclist who works for the mob! Probably VERY aware of word on the streets about Harry, and in Mirror Mirror, we'll see him go "huh. what the fuck." about our Harry! because THAT'S not the guy everyone dreads! This is a fucking goober! Powerful goober-- but tall, lanky ass, goober! Built his own paranet perhaps, due to the fact that Harry is not a "good" man in this universe.

I very honestly don't know, there's so many variations of these, ever so slight changes, and I am CHOMPING on my theorizing bit.

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Heeeey! I’m back with the angst requests (: can I request a scenario with Hanma of reader having feeling and him not sharing them back, unrequited love? I’m looking to hurt and I know you always pull through 🫶

Hey, welcome back! Will do! Glad to see you 'round these parts!

Love You, Mean It: Hanma Shuji x Fem!Reader

wc: 659

tw: angst

masterlist

"I love you."

Hanma's shoulders slump. He's standing out in the biting cold, listening to your profession of love... but it's not going well for either of you.

"I'm sorry. You don't even have to say anything back. I just thought you should know."

Silence passes between the two of you, and Hanma grimaces, looking at the street as if he wishes he could run into it and get hit by a passing truck.

What had been a simple physical relationship had turned on its head. Now... it's merely a nuisance. Shuji inhales the night air deeply, watching the shadows of the TV screens in the shop window dance across your face. But he has to say something, or you'd start to cry. And he couldn't have a crying girl on his hands.

"Look at this realistically – can you honestly see any scenario where we'd date and not annoy the shit out of each other?" You look up from your shoes in shock. "Besides, you're in a relationship right now – you know this won't end well."

"But I promise I'll break up with him!" is your response to all of Shuji's points. The him is the person you're both waiting for. The him is the man who brought you two under the same roof in the first place. Shuji wants to stop you from talking and keep you from incriminating yourself.

But you blather on, digging yourself into a hole about six feet deep. "Listen, I'll break up with him... and we can be secretive about it." Shuji flinches, and you take notice. "Not in a way that would make you seem like a side-piece. I just meant--"

"I know what you meant," Shuji replies cooly. "This isn't what I bargained for when you said you wanted to spend time with me. I'm putting my head on the chopping block by even touching you. Let alone fucking you when Kisaki's not looking!"

Shuji wants to shake you and make you wake up - this isn't a fairytale with some hidden ending. The ending is happening right now; the credits are rolling over your faces. "If you think for a second I'd betray Kisaki like that, you're insane."

"But you wanted--"

"Really," Shuji begins, stuffing his ice-cold hands in his pockets. "I just wanted to see how far I could get with you. I couldn't imagine being with someone disloyal to her core like you." The flash of hurt in your eyes doesn't go unnoticed. Shuji scoffs, shaking his head.

"I..." Tears come to your eyes. Shuji stifles a groan, biting his cheek so hard he draws blood. "Shuji, why would you talk to me like this?"

"You should go home and forget this ever happened. Break up with Kisaki if you want to; that's not my call. But this... this is over." Hanma drags himself away from you, feeling a snap of guilt in his gut. Sure, you'd been nice to him, and having a tryst with you was fun, but this was how things had to end. If he let it go on any longer, Kisaki would have his head and his balls.

Shuji's phone rings in his pocket as he storms off. Shuji answers it immediately; there's only one person who has his cell number.

"Did you do it?" the voice asks on the other end.

"Yes, boss," he replies.

"You sound displeased."

"I'm not," Shuji lies. "Just had to explain to her over and over again why we can't be together anymore."

"Good," Kisaki mutters, then sighs. "She'll come running back to me any second now."

"Just like you said she would," Hanma affirms, turning his head around and watching you pull out your phone as your wipe your face. Kisaki's phone buzzes against his ear.

"That's her. Gotta go."

The phone call ends, and Hanma steps into the street, still praying a truck would crush him for the hell of it.

[sevenf1ng3rs]

His Burden: Chapter 1

Chapter 1: “I never make mistakes”

Word Count: 1k

Pairings: Namjoon x Reader

Genres: Innocent!Reader, Troubled!Namjoon, Blossoming Relationship, Big Secret, Fluff, Angst, Smut, Humor.

Rating: 18+, Mature

Warnings: None for this chapter.

---------------------------------------

"Ugh, it's too hot to go to work."

You look up at the blistering sun, trying to will the heat from the sky. Walking to work in this heat should be illegal.

Do I have to go to work today?

As you walk, you start to get a call from someone. You cringe when you take your phone out of your pocket and check the caller ID. Considering whether or not to send him to voicemail, you answer the call.

"I know you're thinking about skipping work. And no, it's not illegal to walk in this heat because I know you're thinking that too. Get your ass to work. You've missed two shifts this week."

"Yeah yeah, I'm on my way," you reply in frustration and hang up on him.

You pick up your pace and run to work at your quaint coffee shop in the small corner of 5th and 40th, a cute place you've grown to love over the years.

"I'm here," you sigh with relief as you slam open the door and jog inside, placing your hands on your knees to catch your breath.

"About time," your boss replies, staring judgingly down at your panting form.

A customer walks in after you've caught your breath and have finally settled into work. A mysterious man with a brooding pout, his golden brown eyes trained to the floor, pink lips and tan exterior capturing your gaze immediately.

"Hi, how can I help you?" you greet with a sweet smile.

"One iced americano. No sugar. Thanks," he replies with an icy glare.

Does he know me? Why is he so cold to me?

The mysterious man watches as you make his drink with grace. He follows your broad hips and dainty fingers as you waltz around behind the counter and fumble with the large coffee machine.

"I think that guy likes you. He won't take his eyes off you," your best friend and coworker, Maddie, whispers to you subtly.

You sigh at her prodding, continuing to make the coffee.

"No way, he barely spoke more than a sentence to me."

"His eyes glued to your ass speak for themselves. Plus, maybe this is your opportunity to finally go all the way if you know what I mean," she replies while teasingly pushing her hip into yours.

"He is not, and don't say that so loud, Maddie," you blush and glance back toward the man, who quickly looks away once catching your eye.

You top off the coffee and turn around to place the drink on the table.

"One iced americano, no sugar for..."

"Namjoon." the man finishes your sentence with a punctual stare.

"Sorry, Namjoon, have we met before?" you shyly ask.

"No. Trust me. I'd remember a face like yours."

"Oh well, if that's all, I'll just continue with the other customers then," you stumble away with a mix of shock and flattery.

Shit, I knew I had forgotten something.

"Oh, I forgot to give you a stra-"

As you reach into your pocket to grab a straw, you slip on a stray napkin, starting your descent toward the floor.

Before you hit the shop floor, you're met with one robust and muscular arm saving you from embarrassment. His arm tightens around your waist before carefully bringing you upright. His cold stare breaks for a moment, worry flashing across his eyes briefly.

You feel his arm brush across your breast, causing a flash of heat toward your core. Your underwear starts to stick uncomfortably to your untouched insides. You're worked up so quickly that you feel slight wetness as your legs reclaim themselves on the ground.

"Thank you so mu-"

"Don't worry about it," he says, his stare distant again.

You hurry back to the counter with your head hung low.

God, I am such an embarrassment.

You look up to see Maddie grinning a mischievous smile, basking in your misfortune like the loving best friend she is.

"What was that girl," she says, her voice teasing and eyebrows raised, trying to hide a laugh.

"It was nothing. I just slipped,"

"Yeah, sure you did," she replies, her grin growing impossibly wider.

You ignore her, grab the paper slip from the register, and quickly return to Namjoon.

"I'm sorry about the trouble. I'll make sure to add a free pastry next time you come in," you plaster on your best customer service smile, pretending you aren't wholly humiliated and still slightly wet.

"Who says I'm coming back?"

You look down in shame, but something catches your eye under the table.

There's no way, is that his-

You snap your head up, splashes of red blooming across your face.

So it's not just me, you think to yourself.

He signs the receipt and walks away without another word. You collect the receipt, expecting a low tip, but see something that shocks you completely.

On the receipt is a 100-dollar tip, along with a phone number and a name signed at the bottom.

This must be a mistake.

"Oh, sir, I think you made a mistake on the receipt," you call out to him.

"I never make mistakes," he says in a cocky manner before swiftly exiting the shop.

Click for Chapter 2

[pentagonieslut]

ahhh i'm finally finding a dkb blog + who's taking nsfw !! in your opinion, what are each members biggest kink?

can i be 🎸 anon?

of course you can ! nice to meet you 🎸 anon !

one / two sentence thoughts included so no cut lol

harry june: kigurumi joi

the thought of you dressing up as one of his favourite anime characters like erza from fairytale as you lay across the couch and pretend to clean your sword- nonchalantly instructing him to slowly orgasm.

yuku: corruption

call it cliche or what you want but this cute lil sun right here?? he’s the fucking moon when he gets down to business and you let him corrupt you in role play.

junseo: size

talk shit. do it fr- he’s a fucking giant and you’re fucking tiny. imagine the way he just engulfs you and makes you belly bulge everytime he’s fully inside.

lune: narratophilia sensationphilia

interactive storytelling with this man narrating as he tells you how elsa was really born (sorry children), dragging an ice cube across your collarbone oh so gently.

GK: voice

his deep voice, GWORL PLEASE HES IN THE ‘VOICE THAT ROTS IN THE BACK OF YOUR BRAIN GANG’. he loves the way his voice sounds when it gets deep and sensual, speaking lowly into your ear as your voice only gives a squeak or whine.

heechan: orgasm play n denial whilst watching katotropnophilia and edging

long one yes i know but he’s jus so kinky i couldn’t help it. he literally reminds me of wooyoung in every way possible- watching you get close to your orgasm and then leaving you be by pulling out so fast you’re shaking and crying to be filled just to cum.

teo: muscular merinthophilia

let’s say it all together children!! that’s right. choking, muscles, katotropnophilia, he’s got the same things and wants more.

D1: temperatured ice

the coldness of his tongue on your chest as the last of the ice melts, he smiles at how he feels your goosebumps and hugs you to let you feel his warmth.

echan: praise frfr

as papa leader, it’s his job to praise his members and he praises you the same exact way. when you do good.

[hanasnx]

no yeah i need more of the indy x beef love story!! add a cut if you have to (jokey joke i'm not trying to nag) i've got a cup of ice water and a bowl of popcorn beside me (also a joke. the popcorn, not the ice water. it is toasty rn) i'm invested, i'm seated, i'm tuned in!! much love xoxo

part one sorry this took so long

i had this sense of belonging with him. i was already comfortable with him even though we'd only had a handful of conversations. this was a big step for me seeing as how i'd only ever been with people that gave me that thrill in my stomach especially if i was doing something wrong. in this case, that thrill was completely gone, replaced with a sense of safety i'd never felt before besides a friendship that was very dear to me. so i thought i needed to be his friend. i wanted to hang out with him.

i think i decided this when i went out walking late at night because its my favorite thing to do and it started pouring rain so i went to the little mailbox garage to keep my phone/earbuds dry otherwise i wouldnt have minded the rain. but i was sitting there and i found myself wanting to run into him. i was wishing he'd, for some reason, come check his mail so that we could talk more.

now that its decided that i knew i wanted to be closer to him, i did not have a game plan. instead, i applied the logic i usually would apply to this situation: if it's meant to be it'll come back. because i was too scared to make a move when he came in for coffee in the morning. we said our usual hellos etc but i did not give him my number. i was disappointed, even though it was my own fault, because its rare that i see him twice in one day. so the "if it's meant to be it'll come back" was kind a way out for me, 1) i wouldnt have to do the thing i was dreading, creating a sense of relief 2) but that would mean i dont get to do the thing i wanted to do, creating a sense of disappointment.

i was working all day and my boss left early, which means that when i went home for lunch, i put on non-corporate dress code socks because my feet were cold. ones that her micro-managing ass would've noticed and told me to take off. but i was behind the desk, it was nearing the end of the day, no one would notice my crazy socks. my coworker that knew i liked this guy was sitting next to me, and my head maintenance guy who didnt know and could not know. we were all talking when beef came in.

like i said before, it was rare to see him twice in one day, so my stomach did a flip. it meant i had to give him my number, i made that commitment. i wrote it down on a sticky note, waiting for my chance. but my maintenance guy wouldnt leave, and beef was making his coffee. i was running out of time. i didnt know how to find a situation to give it to him in which my maintenance guy wouldnt see it because i knew his ass would report me or hold it over my head. and beef left before i could figure it out.

crestfallen, i hadnt fulfilled my commitment. i was really upset with myself, it was perfect. he came back just like he was supposed to, just like the mantra. if it's meant to be it will come back.

i was beating myself up for it tbh. "you always do this shit, indy, you always do this shit." which is so rare considering how kind i am to myself, which goes to show just how upset i was at myself for not manning up about it.

some time passed and it was probably the last thirty minutes of the day, so i was gonna go put the golf cart back. i was walking out when something told me to go back to my desk, so i went back, and i grabbed the sticky note with my number on it. to this day i have no idea why i did that. something came over me that i went back to my desk and grabbed the sticky note with my number on it to shove into my pocket to take with me. maybe it was because i didnt want other people to see it on my desk, but i couldve just thrown it away.

i drive around and i go the longways because i usually did that. its about evening time, the sky is orange, im still upset over earlier.

and i see in the distance a familiar silhouette. one i've seen a thousand times. it was beef roller blading alongside his running dog. i cant believe my eyes it was like magic. i was genuinely, to my core, shocked. a third time. a third time in one day.

he goes to the sidewalk to let me pass, but i turn in to a parking spot like a mad man. i am determined to get this over with. a third time in the same day, ive never seen him three times in one day, this had to be it. i have to give him the number and miraculously i brought the fucking note with me. i march up, i say "hi (name), hi (dogs name)" quick asf. "dont look at my socks" i tell him because im still wearing the crazy socks that dont go with my shoes or outfit and the first thing he fucking does is look down at my socks. he laughs at them. i hand him the note "call me if you wanna hangout sometime." i say and get back in the cart to take it to the garage.

an hour later he texts. "hi :) this is (name)" and we text for hours. paragraphs about our pasts and shows we like and what we do for fun, everything. at one point he texts that he feels like he needs to say that hes "not ready for a relationship, and hes happy being friends" and i said "thats fine because thats why i gave you my number. to hang out" which is true. i asked him if he wanted to go around the community yard sale on thursday with me, and he said yes.

around 11 o clock that day, we meet up, and i remember he looked me up and down. he gave me that scan. it was subtle but i was like oh?

we walked around together and i got a bunch of stuff for my roommates cats and a lemon soap dispenser for my roommate who loves lemons etc. beef hasnt gotten anything, but he helps me carry my stuff :) he had insisted on it. at one point we come across a collection of framed paintings, and he looks particularly taken with a small portrait of a snowy landscape with a man in furs. he sets it back down. i check the price, its $5 so i buy it for him. he looks touched.

we text a little for the next week, but he says hes really busy with work and has to focus on that so i give him that space. at one point i subtly try to hang out with him late at night using the excuse of putting our crystals out for the full moon, and he says that he'd love to but can't, and i had to backtrack and act like i wasnt trying to hang out 💀

towards the end of that week, i had started texted with an ex-best-friend of mine we'll call her EBF. ebf invited me to a kava bar, then asked if her boyfriend could come, i said no that makes me uncomfortable bcos i dont know her boyfriend, she says "oh then i cant go", im like wow i wonderrr why we stopped being friends u pos but whateverrr so i said "if you get to bring someone, i get to bring someone" and invited beef. i said "hey i know its short notice but im going out tonight at a kava bar you should come" he says "great! give me the address ill be there" so i do. while im getting ready, EBF texts to cancel last minute. fucking dick n balls, right? so i had to text beef to be like "hey man so sorry but my friend cancelled. do you still wanna go just us?" and he says yea :)

he picks me up and at one point i pay a compliment to myself, i say i've got nice curves. he looks at me while hes got a spare moment driving and gives me a little once over again... and says "yeah, you do have nice curves" i couldve died

we talk about anything and everything on the way here, at the kava bar, and then when we take a walk. we walk up and down that strip for like an hour and a half. we drive back to the community and we take another walk. when i look at my phone after all this walking and talking it realize its 2am and we started hanging out at 7pm. so i have to run back home bcos ive gotta get ready for work in 6 hours.

the next day my roommates rly wanna meet him, so invite him over to hang with them. after that, i walk him home, and spent a bit of time with him there. i tell him im cold, and he says "heres my favorite hoodie". i go home and spend a few hours apart at my place. we keep texting, and he says "let me know if you wanna play some games tonight" as in like online, but i was like "im literally packing up my ps3 to bring over rn" bcos he had mentioned he wanted to play black ops 2 and i was feeling spontaneous. around midnight im back at his place and we play games until way later, and im feeling too tired to keep playing so we put on a movie and we "cuddle" which was kind of spooning but he kept his crotch away from my ass. (he tells me later that the reason he did that was because he got a boner laying down with me)

we fall asleep watching rio, our first sleepover. he had set an alarm for me so that i wouldnt miss work and i didnt even ask.

the next day he asked me to come over again. he cooks me dinner. we have another sleepover. i got to work, and then i go right back to his place. that night we're sitting and facing one another in the dark, that invisible string is pulling us together. he's murmuring, "i don't wanna be friends. i wanna be your boyfriend." and we kiss. its soft and slow, and it marks may 7th our anniversary.

since our first sleepover, i did not sleep again at my own place, which means that before we were officially dating, we were technically living together first.