#POLITELY TELL ME TO DIE SO I CAN PRETEND THIS NEVER HAPPENED

[calnoc]

hhh

[monstersholygrail]

New City, New Life

5k celebration ‘Choose your own adventure’ story

Wolf Hybrid x fem!reader— free use city, olfactophilia, semi-public sex, oral (f!receiving), marking, biting, knotting

You stop the moving truck just outside of your brand new house. Ducking your head you check it out through the window and nod appreciatively. It looked a lot better than it did online! Though for the surprisingly low price you got for an entire house you wouldn’t have complained about whatever it looked like. But you scored great for not viewing the house in person before buying it and moving to a whole other city you had never heard of let alone been to.

Was that pretty stupid of you? Sure! But you can’t exactly regret it when this is the outcome. And besides, you needed a change of pace from the monotony of your old life. You needed a new adventure. An unknown city, your own house, and a change in work was just the start, you were positive.

When that mysterious headhunter came to you a few months ago with the opportunity of a lifetime, it couldn’t have come at a better time. It was like something in the universe knew you were having a rough time and needed to leave. So you took the risk and packed up your entire life. It all happened so fast you didn’t even get the chance to do any of your own research on the neighborhood, the city, or your new job. All you had to go on was the brochures the headhunter sent.

Again, was it stupid? Nah, you’re sure it’ll all work out for the best.

But as you flip the latch and push up the tailgate to reveal the moving truck full of boxes that you alone have to move, you start to second guess your statement. You really should’ve hired that Minotaur Moving Company the headhunter suggested. You can handle this. You can totally… totally… hand this.

“Hey, neighbor!” A voice calls, startling you out your daunting thoughts.

You lean to look over the side of the truck and are instantly blown away by the sight in front of you. A sexy ass Wolf Hybrid walks down the sidewalk toward you. His muscles bulging and straining against his tight button up shirt. His slacks not hiding anything he’s got going on downstairs. The smirk on his face is absolutely panty-dropping and you feel yourself go weak in the knees from it. More than ready to drop down and him do whatever he wants to you.

“Moving in?” He asks instead of immediately taking you right then and then. For a second you’re disappointed before you realize this is the real world and people don’t have sex with people they’ve just met… right?

“Yeah, yeah. Gotta bring in all these boxes, gonna take so long,” you say, your voice sounding breathier than you meant it to.

The Wolf Hybrid’s eyes flash but before you can read the expression it’s gone and that friendly neighbor persona is back on. He looks into the truck and scoffs as if it’s nothing.

“Let me help you with that then!”

Before you can pretend to resist, claiming he doesn’t need to help before he insists in a way that would have your panties gushing, he swings himself up into the truck. The words immediately die on your tongue as you see him pick up a heavy box like it’s nothing. Oh, well I guess your panties are getting soaked either way.

You swear that the Wolf Hybrid can tell you’re already turned on as he inhales deeply just as he passes you. But thankfully he doesn’t say a thing and heads up your porch, waiting with a wagging tail for you to open up your house to him. You exchange polite greetings as you walk inside with him and get started.

The two of your work together pretty well. Walking back and forth between the truck and the house. You can’t help but let your gaze linger on him and the way he moves. And every time you look at him you catch him looking back, his heated gaze raking over your form.

The tension grows thicker with each box you both carry. While the Wolf Hybrid forces you to stay away from the heavy boxes, only allowing you to lift the light ones. It only serves to increase the tension and turn you on even more. Still, you both manage to work up quiet the sweat by the time the moving truck is almost empty.

You sigh heavily as you push yourself back up into the truck. Heading all the way down to the front to look for another box to carry in. Just as you reach down to pick up a box of throw pillows, two clawed hands dig into your plush waist and a sharp gasp falls past your lips. You freeze in place, questioning why your pussy clenches down around nothing.

“Think I’m finally gonna fuck you now, sweetheart, ‘k?” The Wolf Hybrid growls, his chest molding to your back. His snout nuzzles into your throat and down into your shirt. He inhales deeply, a rumble moving through his chest as your musk washes over him. “You’re finally ripe ‘nough f’me.”

With a quick jerk of his hands, he’s shucking off your pants. You jump a second later as his snout presses deeply against your slit, rubbing his nose back and forth, smelling all of you. You moan softly, your mind fading away before you can question what the hell is happening. This is what you wanted this whole time after all. Can’t complain now. And you surely won’t as his long prickly tongue joins in, lapping up the mess your slick left on your pussy.

“So fucking drenched for me already. I think you’ll fit in around here just fine,” he rasps as he latches onto your clit and gives it a teasing suck that has sparks shooting through your core.

You go to finally ask what he’s been on about, and why the fact that you’re a soaked mess for him would mean you’d fit in, but in a flash he’s standing up and kicking your legs out to spread for him. His fat tip pushes against your entrance and your jaw drops, tongue lolling out at his sheer girth. His cock splitting you open in two as he pushes his big cock all the way inside your desperate pussy.

“N-nngh! Fuuuck. So fucking tight for me. Glad I got to you first. With a pussy this good you’re gonna be busy in a city like this,” the Wolf Hybrid growls out, his claws digging into your waist.

You can barely hear him over the ringing in your ears. But none of it matters anyway as he uses his grip and immediately starts spearing his shaft deep inside your sloppy cunt, over and over again. The only sound that registers now is your own moans as he fucks you brainless.

The truck shakes with the force of his thrusts and you hold onto the boxes in front of you for dear life as he takes you on a wild ride. His cock glides along your gummy walls, igniting your every nerve as he hits those spots inside you that have you seeing stars. Loud cries leave you but you can’t seem to give a fuck if anyone hears. They should hear how good you’re feeling right now.

“God, yes! Take it! Take my cock, darling. Gonna have to get used to this after all. And I’ll be more than happy to help you adjust.”

You cry out louder, your throat aching with the strength of the noises leaving you. You desperately try and rock back and meet his thrusts but the Wolf Hybrid snarls, his claws digging even deeper into your hips. He leans over you and his fangs are sinking into your flesh a moment later. Keeping you perfectly still for him as he slams his length into your depths, his tip kissing your womb with every thrust.

The onslaught of one sensation after the other has every single one of your atoms quivering with anticipation. Your toes curl as he reaches down, flicking your clit just right, and a second later you’re freezing up as your orgasm crashes through you.

Wolf Hybrid roars as your precious pussy clamps down on him. He continues to thrust into you, swinging his hips back and forcing his knot inside you with a slick pop. The sudden stretch prolongs your orgasm and makes you scream in delight. He cums not long after you, his knot expanding inside you as he pumps load after load of hot cum straight into your wrecked womb.

“If I hadn’t already said it, welcome to the neighborhood,” he says breathlessly in your ear.

After his knot had gone down, he slipped out of you and the two of you finished carrying the boxes in. Well, more like you laid on your couch while he carried the rest in because you couldn’t seem to walk for the life of you. He offered to stay, help you clean up and look after you till you could walk again, but you politely declined. You started your new job in the morning after all.

As you leave your house the next morning, body still a bit sore from the best fuck of your life, you realized you had a tiny issue. Your car was being driven down by a friend from your old city but it wasn’t here yet. You had to get to work somehow.

Looking off to the side you spot your neighbor in their driveway and your cheeks tinge pink. He was with a couple of his friends and it seemed like they were on their way somewhere. His friends appearing to be an Orc, a Naga, and another wolf. You could always ask them for a ride. Or maybe you shouldn’t bother your neighbor after what happened yesterday. You could always take the bus. Except… you have no idea where the station is. Well, you could always walk. Maybe stop for some coffee along the way.

[viaxslz]

. 【 ARRANGED ℳARRIAGE 】

享受 ! .°. ݁₊ 𐙚 !reader, cw: arranged marriage au, slight angst, fluff (ig), kissing, strangers to lovers (if that’s what they call it), super duber long (ok might not disappear but who knows), not proofread :P, hyung line ver.

HAN

Han Jisung –(aka husband who swears he’s not panicking while definitely panicking) From the moment you said “I do,” Han Jisung looked like he was fighting for his life. He was sweating through his suit, grinning way too wide, and stuttering so much during the vows that the officiant asked him twice if he was under duress. You weren’t thrilled about the arranged marriage either. You didn’t know each other, didn’t choose each other, and for the first few weeks, it showed. The atmosphere in your shared home was polite but tense like two interns accidentally assigned the same group project, silently wondering who would flake first. Jisung tried his best. He’d attempt conversation over breakfast: “Do you… like toast?” “I mean, of course you like toast, who doesn’t like toast—wait, are you gluten-free? Should I die?” “Sorry. That was dramatic. I’ll stop talking. Unless you want me to talk. Then I’ll talk forever.” You stared at him like he was a sitcom character that got lost on the way to his own show. The man was nervous. Constantly. He’d bump into chairs and say “sorry” to them. He’d knock on the bathroom door even when it was clearly open. He’d rehearse things in his room before saying them to you. One night you overheard: “Hey, Y/N, how was your day? No, too fake. Try again. Okay—Hey, Y/N! How’s the weather in your heart tod—no. Ew. What the hell.” You almost laughed. Almost. But the truth is, Jisung wasn’t acting. He was just genuinely trying. Genuinely overwhelmed. Genuinely scared of screwing up something that had already started with zero consent or choice. One night, you came home exhausted from work, dropped your bag on the floor, and groaned into your hands. Jisung, who had been pretending to study something on his laptop, panicked. “Oh my god. Did someone yell at you? Did you eat today? Did a bird attack you again?” “…Again?” He scrambled into the kitchen like a sitcom wife from the ‘50s, muttering, “I can cook—I mean, I can microwave—no wait, I made eggs once without the shell—wait, do you like eggs??” You burst out laughing. You didn’t mean to, but it just happened. And Jisung froze, blinking like he’d just won a Grammy. “…Was that a laugh? Did I do that? Did I—should I bottle this moment? Is this my peak?” You couldn’t stop. You laughed until you cried, and he stood there, looking both victorious and deeply confused. That broke the wall. After that, everything became easier. You talked more. Shared dumb jokes. Started watching random shows together at night while Jisung made running commentary like: “If they kiss now I’m suing.” “I relate to this character deeply. He’s tired and scared and emotionally repressed. Sexy.” You noticed he was actually really smart. Quick-witted. Sensitive. And kind. Like the kind of kind that doesn’t make a show of it, he just does things. He once quietly fixed your phone charger without telling you. Left sticky notes on your notebook when you had a stressful day. Learned how to make your favorite comfort food just in case. But he never crossed a line. Never forced closeness. Just waited. Patiently. Softly. Then, one rainy night, you found him asleep on the couch. Hugging a pillow. Mumbling in his sleep: “Y/N… don’t leave…” You froze. The next morning, he woke up to you making breakfast. He shuffled into the kitchen, hair a mess, eyes still puffy. “Morning…” You turned around. “Why would I leave?” He blinked. “Wait. Huh?” You walked up, poked his chest gently. “You were talking in your sleep. You said not to leave.” Jisung turned red in real-time. “I—I—NO I—THAT WAS A DREAM—NO—IT WAS A QUOTE—I WAS REHEARSING A LINE—IT’S FOR A PLAY—SHAKESPEARE. YEAH.” You laughed and kissed his cheek. He stopped breathing. You whispered, “I’m not going anywhere.” He whispered, “I think I love you.” Then screamed into a pillow.

Now? Jisung still panics over toast. Still practices conversations in the shower. Still dramatically falls to the floor if you compliment him too sincerely. But he also wraps his arms around you at night like he never wants to let go. Says “I love you” like it’s a reflex. Like it’s the air he breathes. Your marriage may have been arranged. But the love? That part was his choice. And every single day, he keeps choosing you awkwardly, dramatically, wholeheartedly.

FELIX

Felix – (aka sunshine husband who has no idea how to act cold so he just gives you cookies instead) You expected a lot of things from an arranged marriage. tension, silence, maybe even mild resentment. What you didn’t expect was a man with a literal Tupperware container of homemade brownies on your wedding night, shyly holding them out like a peace offering.“Hi… um. I baked these. I don’t know how to start conversations so… chocolate?” You stared at him. He stared back, looking like a golden retriever that got dropped into a corporate meeting by accident. The beginning was awkward, of course. You weren’t strangers, but you weren’t close either. You tiptoed around each other in the house, always polite, always a bit too careful like roommates who accidentally got married and didn’t want to make it weird. Felix, for his part, was trying. So hard. Too hard, honestly. He’d overthink everything. “Do you want me to knock before entering the kitchen?” “Is it okay if I call you… uh… your name?” “I organized the pantry alphabetically. Is that weird? Should I undo it?” You: “I just wanted cereal.” But then came the baking. It started small, a cookie here, a muffin there. Then suddenly it was “surprise banana bread Tuesday” and “midnight croissant therapy.” You’d wake up to little notes by the coffee machine: “Today might be rough, so I made cinnamon rolls. You got this.” “Don’t forget to eat, okay? There’s matcha cake in the fridge. Love, not-so-legally-your-husband.” And that’s the thing about Felix. He wasn’t trying to impress you. He just cared. Genuinely, openly, maybe even recklessly. You caught feelings faster than you were willing to admit. How were you supposed to not fall for the man who learned your coffee order by week two, remembered your deadlines better than you did, and looked at you like the sun was doing him a personal favor by existing through you? Still, neither of you really acknowledged the shift. He stayed sweet. You stayed guarded. And your house became this soft little bubble of tension-filled domesticity, where nothing happened but everything was happening. Then one night, you had a breakdown. Work was suffocating, your family was pressuring you about the marriage, and you just… snapped. You stormed into the kitchen, tired and overwhelmed, and finally said it: “This wasn’t supposed to be real, okay? You weren’t supposed to be nice. You weren’t supposed to make me feel like this was a home.” Felix looked like you’d punched him in the chest. Slowly, he set down the cake batter he was mixing. “…Do you want it to be real?” You: “What?” “This marriage. Us. I… I know we didn’t choose this. But I wake up and think about you. I go to sleep hoping you had a good day. I bake because it’s the only way I know how to show you that I care without scaring you off.” You didn’t say anything. He smiled, sad and small. “I didn’t want to make this harder for you. But if being nice made it worse, I’ll stop—” You kissed him. You pulled back. “Sorry. Was that—” “Do it again.” Now? Felix still bakes at 2 a.m. Still writes notes on the fridge. Still organizes the pantry like a spreadsheet. But he also kisses your temple before you leave the house. Holds your hand during grocery runs like he’s afraid to let go. Whispers, “I know we didn’t choose this but if I had to do it again, I’d still choose you.” The marriage might’ve started with a contract. But the love? That came frosted, warm, and wrapped in a Tupperware full of effort. And you’ve been choosing him back ever since.

SEUNGMIN

Seungmin – (aka the emotionally constipated husband who shows affection by roasting you into submission) You didn’t expect him to be warm. Honestly, you would’ve been suspicious if he was. Seungmin greeted you on your wedding day with a polite nod and the emotional availability of a tax form. No smile. No small talk. Just a: “I’ll take the guest room. Don’t leave your dishes in the sink.” Romantic. At first, it was like living with a very tidy ghost who silently judged you for breathing too loud. You tried initiating conversation, but all you got were one-word replies: “Good morning.” “…Morning.” “How was work?” “Fine.” “Do you need anything from the store?” “Decency.” You were this close to throwing a pillow at him. Or a toaster. Whichever was closer. But you noticed something strange. Despite the deadpan sarcasm and constant eye-rolling, he… listened. Mentioned once that you liked strawberry yogurt? Magically appeared in the fridge. Said you had a meeting on Thursday? He reminded you like a snarky Google calendar. Offhandedly said your back hurt? There was a hot pack on your desk the next morning. But when you tried to thank him, he’d brush it off with: “I didn’t do it for you. I just hate hearing you complain.” Uh-huh. Sure. Over time, the silence shifted. It didn’t feel tense anymore just… calm. Comfortable, even. You started eating meals at the same time. Watching the same dramas on opposite ends of the couch. Bickering like a married couple without actually being one. You: “You know, if you smiled once in a while, you’d be kind of cute.” Seungmin: “If you talked less, I might live longer.” You: “You love me.” Seungmin: “Blink twice if you’re hallucinating.” But he didn’t move away when you scooted closer on the couch. Didn’t object when you started doing laundry together. Didn’t stop you when you fell asleep on his shoulder one night and mumbled, “Don’t leave.” He just sat there, tense for a moment… then relaxed, and whispered, almost too softly to hear: “I won’t.” That was the beginning. One night, you found him in the kitchen at 1 a.m., making ramen and quietly humming. You padded over in your socks, leaned against the counter, and mumbled, “Did you ever want this? Us?” He didn’t look at you right away. “No.” Ouch. “But now that I have it… I don’t want anyone else.” You blinked. “That was weirdly romantic for you.” He shoved a spoonful of ramen into your mouth. “Shut up before I take it back.” Now? Seungmin still teases you mercilessly. Still roasts you in front of your own plants. Still rolls his eyes when you do something mildly annoying and mutters, “This is why I should’ve married a cactus.” But he also tucks you in when you fall asleep on the couch. Picks up your favorite snacks without being asked. Keeps one of your hair ties on his wrist and pretends it’s not a big deal. He’s not loud with love. Not obvious. Not flowery. But he’s consistent. And in the end, being loved by Seungmin feels like this: No grand speeches. No dramatic confessions. Just someone who stays. Quietly, steadily. And never lets go.

JEONGIN

Jeongin –(aka the flustered baby husband who talks back but blushes when you talk nice) Jeongin walked into the arranged marriage like a man headed to war. Not dramatic at all. Except he was dramatic about it. Silently, of course. He was young, successful, trying to prove himself in his field and suddenly he was being told, “Surprise! You’re getting married to someone you barely know. Smile for the wedding photos!” He did not smile. He grimaced. Your first few days of married life were… quiet. Not hostile, just awkward. You felt like you were both house-sitting the same apartment with unspoken rules and polite small talk. You’d pass each other in the hallway like coworkers forced onto the same project. “Hey.” “Hey.” “Did you eat?” “Kind of. You?” “Cool.” Silence. But Jeongin wasn’t cold just reserved. You caught him staring sometimes. Not in a creepy way. More like he was trying to figure out how the hell he was supposed to be a husband when he still googled how to fix a leaky faucet and forgot to switch his laundry. He wasn’t emotionally constipated just emotionally under construction. And then the sarcasm kicked in. Jeongin, once he got comfortable, became the king of side-eyes and muttered jabs. “Oh wow, you’re cooking? Should I call the fire department now or later?” “You fell asleep watching that drama again. I took a picture. It’s blackmail now.” “Just because we’re married doesn’t mean I have to like your taste in socks.” But you noticed something interesting. He’d grumble when you asked him to do something but he’d still do it. He’d tease you for being forgetful but he never forgot your schedule. He’d pretend to be too cool but blushed like crazy when you complimented his shirt. And when you started teasing him back? Oh, he short-circuited. You: “You look good today, husband.” Jeongin: blinking rapidly “Wh—pft—I—shut up.” You: “Are you blushing?” Jeongin: “NO. You’re just standing near something red.” You: “i’m standing next to you.” Jeongin: “……” It became a routine. Casual affection buried in banter. Emotional intimacy hiding behind post-it notes and shared ramen bowls at midnight. He made a habit of waiting for you to get home before he went to bed. You made a habit of telling him everything you liked about him just to watch him get flustered. Eventually, something changed. One night, you were curled up on opposite ends of the couch, and you casually asked, “Do you still wish this never happened?” He stared at the ceiling for a long time. Then, without looking at you: “At first, yeah. I thought it’d ruin my life.” Pause. “…But then you walked in. And you didn’t try to change me. You just… stayed. And now, I don’t know what I’d do if you left.” You looked at him, heart thumping. He turned to you, cheeks pink. “This is the only time I’m being soft. If you bring this up tomorrow, I’ll deny everything.” You didn’t bring it up. But you did kiss him. And he kissed you back like someone who finally figured out what home felt like. Now? Jeongin still talks back. Still gets flustered when you say “my husband” too easily. Still pretends he’s too cool to cuddle until he’s asleep on your chest with his hand fisted in your hoodie like a security blanket. He’ll tease you in public. Laugh at your clumsiness. Say things like: “Wow, imagine marrying someone like you.” And when you pout, he’ll smirk and lean in real close. “…Lucky me.” He might not have chosen this at the beginning. But he’s choosing you now every single day.

PERM TAGLIST 📌🔖 ──── @the-sea-called-history02 @oc3anfloor @queenofdumbfuckery

[jakesangel]

sick jake ><

what jake wants jake gets but sick jake ? it will be the end for you. either that he pretends to be unable to do anything or is hyper, he would give you the time of your life.

when he gets his mouth ulcer, he knows the medecine will hurt him more so he wouldn't stop moving making it hard for the members of the staff to heal him. they even had to tie him up. but once you're in his life ? ? he would do it on purpose just to get you to heal him. he would whine out loud not caring of the situation or the place he is. he would jump around not wanting to be tied up again. he just doesn't want anyone else to heal him. he is all yours, why would him ? so when sunghoon had the idea to call you over, he was so happy. the happiest, he would grin so hard, making everyone in the room realized of his true intentions. but even if he didn't, he was suddenly patently waiting for you, sitting on the dance practice couch, a contrast from few seconds ago.

once you arrive w the members telling you what's happening and giving you the médecine, you would see a jake already looking at you, sitting w his legs moving around, his body buzzing of excitement. his smile would get bigger when he sees you approching with the medecine. he knows it will hurt, but knowing you'd be the one healing him, eases him. hi would he says w the biggest grin, you know you didn't have time come here, not even hiding the biggest lie he ever told you. he would grab your hands, leading you on his lap and then, put them on your thighs, lovingly strocking them, while you'd open the medecine. could you hold my face while you'll do it, princess ? he would expendantly ask, his face held high, eyes round to look at you only. please ?

but when jake is having a cold, he will act like a baby. he would either come over or beg u through text for you to come to him. he wouldn't even open the front door, pretending that he can't get out of his bed. he'd prepare himself : once you open the door he will cough n pretend his voice is roak, but it never works. once he his the door opens, he knows he won. he knows you are going to baby him and that he has you, all for himself, and maybe you'd even stay for the night. so every single time, he would smile so big once he sees you. and it is an endearing sight to see : he had himself wrapped up in his blanket, his head the only thing that can be seen. my princess finally came to save me, he'd dramatically say. kiss me i'm literally to die !, if he is contagious you'll obviously try to protest making him only whine louder so that's it. that's how i'm going ? without even a kiss from my princess. oh life hates me, or just negotiate with you please, baby ? i promise you ill take such good care of you if you do get sick. please ?

sick jake will not use hands. he would keep them under the blanket waiting for you to feed him, either food or the medicine. so when you're so close to him, on his bed, feeding him, he keeps it cool finally getting what he wants.he'd stop trying to kiss you but only opening and closing his mouth only when the spoon is approaching or leaving his face. jake would only move when he knows you guys will cuddle. so when you come back from the kitchen, his dishes on the sink, he'd have the blanket open for you. babe, could you touch my hair while we watch a movie, please ? he'd confide you. and that's only then he will fall asleep, your chest is pressed by his back, your hand on his hair.

notes : jake politely asking is making me insane but he is the cutest puppy he would so do this :(

@imaluckygirl @luvj4key @heeseungswifefr @stwrjvke @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby @jaeyunpinkyring

[scientia-rex]

I feel like disappointment in Biden is baffling to me because he was always a disappointment. He was the asshole who got to ride to power on the coattails of a better man. He told bizarre and repeated lies (despite getting caught at it and his team telling him not to) about having a Welsh coal miner dad when he did not and he stole that story from actual Welsh people. I read a profile of him years back that pointed this out and told the story of the time he straight up ignored good advice from an expert not to plant a certain kind of tree too close together and flew a bunch of them out to plant, at night because he was just too fucking excited about it, and they all died. He’s not a smart man! He’s charismatic ish and lacks principles and as far as I can tell doesn’t really care about abortion rights or a lot of things we’d consider pretty critical to preserving freedom. I sincerely thought he couldn’t become President because there were so many obviously better candidates in the pool. I underestimated the sexism and antisemitism in American politics, and when he became the candidate in 2020 I gritted my teeth and voted for him because the alternative was a man who is not only an idiot but also profoundly dangerous. Trump is not ha-ha crazy, he’s Mussolini crazy. He is not dangerous because he’s stupid, although that doesn’t help; he’s dangerous because he does not care about anyone except himself under any circumstances and if that means he lets the far right push us straight into forced birth for white women and sterilization for women of color he’s going to do that. If that means conversion therapy for queers and death penalty for homosexual acts he’s going to do that. He has literally no limits. If he gets back into power, a whole lot of people are going to die, again. It’s not a hypothetical because it happened the first time and he’s only going to get worse.

I am not, never have been, and never will be a fan of Biden. To pretend that he and Trump are in any way equivalent is wrong at best and another goddamn Russian psy-op at worst. To pretend that a third party candidacy is viable in the US is to completely ignore every election of your lifetime and your parents’ lifetimes, and to further ignore the lesson of Ross Perot.

You cannot save Palestinians by not voting for Biden in November; the best you can do is chip away at his margin, and the worst you can do is see Trump elected so he can decide to do the worst possible thing in ever circumstance. Biden has Palestinian blood on his hands and watching this when we could have had Bernie or Elizabeth Warren instead is maddening. (I would have preferred Hillary to Trump, but I don’t think she’d be any different than Biden here. They’re both old-school politicians.)

I hate everything about this, and I hate that saying “maybe don’t put the man who literally said he would kill his political enemies in power” is seen as supporting genocide. It’s acknowledging reality. Joe Biden as a person can eat rocks for all I care. I was kind of hoping he’d die sooner in his term so we’d have time to get used to and then vote for President Harris. (Remember when the line was “she’s a cop, don’t vote for her”? Funny how there’s always a reason not to vote for a woman or a person of color or someone you just “don’t like” and can’t put a finger on why except she “seems angry.” Oh does she. How would she not? When Michelle fucking Obama, the picture of grace , STILL got called angry for having the nerve to be a Black woman with an opinion? When Hillary Clinton lost to a man with no political experience to her decades and who openly discussed sexually assaulting women? Would you have voted for President Harris? Or would you let Trump win again because you don’t LIKE her personally and she’s made decisions and statements you disagree with?)

Biden has both less power than his critics give him credit for and more power than his fans give him credit for. He needs to do more to pressure Israel and although it’s a delicate diplomatic situation I’d rather see us fuck up our diplomatic relationship with Israel than watch more Palestinians get murdered for things like “wanting to eat” and “existing.” The line has been crossed, and he doesn’t see it. Because he wasn’t the best person for the job. Because they didn’t get elected, because of sexism/antisemitism/racism. Hell, I have no idea what bootlicker Pete Buttegieg would have done here, but I’d have given him a try. But no. We got Biden and we’re stuck with this reality where you can be as leftist as you want and still have to look at the situation and decide whether you’re comfortable contributing to a Trump victory through inaction. I want socialism—I want every single person on Earth to have clean drinking water, enough safe food, shelter, medical care, and education—and I’m going to vote for Biden, pissy as it makes me, because the only actual alternative is so, so much worse, for me personally as both a woman and a queer, and for everyone in America and the rest of the world who Trump would find reasons to hurt. What do you think the man who openly and repeatedly praises dictators is going to do when those dictators massacre their own people? Yes, we need to care about this genocide now. We also need to care about all of the other people who are at real risk, both at home and abroad. Would a Trump government agree to fund military intervention in Haiti without insisting on it being a colonial exercise in power? Would a Trump government roll back the restrictions on discriminating against transgender patients in healthcare? How would Trump respond if Orban started dragging people into the streets and shooting them en masse? How would Trump respond if China finally went for it and invaded Taiwan? There are more lives at stake here than mine or yours or even those of the Palestinians, who have deserved better for literally decades and are being mass killed in ways that should result in immediate sanctions, a war crimes trial, and the execution of Netanyahu.

The world deserves better from you than complicity in a Trump victory.

[anonymous-dee]

LiuShen Omegaverse Scenario

Okay, a Scum Villain AU has been brewing in my head and I need to share it with the class.

So basically Shen Qingqiu is an Omega who has to disguise himself as an Alpha in order to fit in with the rest of the peak lords. In order to be eligible to become a peak lord, you have to be an Alpha, and thus all of the other peak lords are Alphas. When Shen Qingqiu transmigrated, he realized that the original goods had been hiding his status as an Omega the entire time, and just continued doing it for the sake of his image (and to avoid political drama of course)

So of course, this means that whenever Shen Qingqiu goes into heat, he secludes himself inside the Bamboo House to suffer through them on his own. Even though this is detrimental for his health, he would rather die (again) than out himself, and he would rather die TWICE than to leave the mountain and find an Alpha who would be willing to help him. Yeah. NO.

So basically, one time while Shen Qingqiu is going through his heat, Liu Qingge shows up unexpectedly for one reason or another. He senses something is off with Shen Qingqiu, but it doesn't click for him what's going on at first. That's when Shen Qingqiu realizes that Liu Qingge is not an Alpha.

He's a Beta.

As a Beta, Liu Qingge gets the faintest whiff of Shen Qingqiu's pheromones; because the scent is so light, it takes him a hot minute to realize that they're coming from SQQ. Shen Qingqiu is surprised to learn that Liu Qingge is also hiding his identity and pretending to front as an Alpha, but this also spawns a reluctant thought in his Heat-induced brain.

Maybe Liu Qingge could...help?

He dismisses it at first and is actively trying to get Liu Qingge to LEAVE, but the more adamant he acts, the more Liu Qingge gets suspicious/worried for his health. So finally, Shen Qingqiu makes the impulsive decision to awkwardly ask Liu Qingge for help.

It should be fine, since he's a Beta and not an Alpha. Shen Qingqiu would never ask an Alpha for help. Betas are more gentle and they have better control over their instincts. Liu Qingge is freaking out a little, of course, because he's never done anything intimate before, but also still wants to help Shen Qingqiu through his heat.

So he does, but of course things don't go as planned. In the deepest throes of their passionate love making, Liu Qingge accidentally marks Shen Qingqiu. Now, the mark of a Beta isn't as powerful as the mark of an Alpha, BUT STILL.

Shen Qingqiu is FUCKED. He's freaking out, because "Holy shit, you fucking marked me! This is what I was trying to avoid! Everyone is going to find out that I'm an Omega!" And Liu Qingge is freaking out because "Holy shit, I marked him. I fucked up. I fucked up really bad."

So their solution? They clumsily form the idea to fake a bonding ceremony and pretend to be fated mates. Two Alphas being fated mates is relatively rare, so the two of them can use this as an excuse for why it took so long for them to "notice the spark." One Beta and one Omega pretending to be two Alphas in a functioning relationship and totally not a marriage of convenience.

While all of this is happening, Luo Binghe is in the Endless Abyss, and his timeline is similar to that of the canon universe. Luo Binghe is an Alpha, and still has his heavenly demon heritage. Anyways, he comes back from the Endless Abyss to lay claim on his shizun, only to find out:

His shizun smells different. Luo Binghe has his shizun's scent memorized, and he would immediately be able to tell if another Alpha marked him

He realizes that not only does his shizun smell different, he's actually marked! Taken!

What do you think Luo Binghe will do when he not only realizes that his shizun is an Omega, but that his shizun was marked by a BETA? AND the two of them faked their bonding ceremony?

Oh, he's pissed. He's LIVID.

But Liu Qingge And Shen Qingqiu gradually start to acclimate to the other, and soon their feelings for each other become genuine amidst the broiling political turmoil they will soon be entrenched in.

That's as far as this idea reaches. But I'm having a lot of fun with it. Maybe I'll write something!

Let me know what you think!

[wheneclipsefalls]

Grovel - Part 4

Pairing: Adult Lo'ak x Fem Omatikaya Reader

Summary: How much more of this can you take?

Warnings: aged up characters, swearing, MDNI, sexual tension, lust, slight angst, mentions of death and blood, war trauma, past cheating, etc.

A/N: Honestly not super happy with how the sentences turned out but writing the actual content of this chapter was so much fun. I hope you enjoy:)

Grovel Masterlist

yawne: love/beloved

paskalin: honey (endearing)

kelku: home/hut

tiyawn: star/little star (endearing)

mawey: be calm

tewng: loincloth

The sun barely crested over the trees before you had set out of your kelku in search of the youngest Omatikaya prince. You had been afforded very little sleep even once in your own bed after spending the night with Lo’ak. Too many images of what had occurred in your drunken state last night had been painted in your mind and it had your stomach tied in knots. The worst part of this torture was the fact that you knew less about your drunken mishaps than anyone else.

 And Lo’ak….

Oh Lo’ak he didn’t even bother to fill you in on the details properly. 

So once you had tossed in your hammock for the thousandth time in the late morning you let out a groan, rushed to get ready for the day and went hunting for that smirking Sully. That lighting fire had only squandered for a moment when you looked over at the magical music device he had left with that note.

Although early in the morning, he was sure to be in the midst of some sort of morning Omatikaya politics or hunting party. You found him surrounded by a few males for an early breakfast around a fire. You were, however, surprised to find Neteyam already there and dressed. After his ‘activities’ with Talu last night you would have supposed he’d require further rest. 

Instead, it was him that nudged Lo’ak’s arm as you came into view, tilting his head in your direction to point you out. Blood still rushing at your ears and tail swatting back and forth like a whip, you stared the prince down.

“You.” One deadly point at him and then the next at the ground in front of you. Almost as if calling an animal to heel. The venom in your voice was enough to have the other males letting out teasing jeers and shoving at him.

Although swatting back at the other males for their jests and comments, Lo’ak’s expression remained soft and calm as he approached you obediently.

“Good morning, yawne.” 

Rolling onto the balls of your feet you peeked up over his right shoulder back at the group near the fire. Far too close for comfort. You’d suffered enough embarrassment already without another nosy party there to witness. So in one move you snatched his wrist and pulled the towering male deeper into the forest. 

Although surprised, Lo’ak didn’t lag behind for long. He allowed himself to be dragged until you’d chosen a suitable private location to lay into him. 

“Why do I get the feeling I’m in trouble?” The corner of his lips turned up even as he ticked his head to the side and observed your heated composure. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” You demanded, swatting at his arm. Lo’ak didn’t flinch. 

“You are going to have to be more specific than that, paskalin.”

“Decided to leave out some precious details last night, huh?” Your tail curved around your upper thigh, ears pointed and alert as you stared up at him. “You can quit this oblivious facade. Talu filled me in on everything.”

“Ah, I see.” He sighed, those dark brows raising as he rested his hands on his hips. “Well truthfully, yawne, I figured you wouldn’t want to talk about the kiss. I thought if you remembered you would insist on us pretending it never happened but if you want to dig into it then-”

“What?” You cut him off, eyes blown wide and heart already thumping at a new speed. “A kiss. Great Mother, what are you talking about?” You were certain this was just another game Lo’ak was playing with you but when your ire didn’t die down and his face dropped slightly, that theory began to look less promising. 

“Oh, so she didn’t tell you everything then.” His ears tucked back, but there was intrigue still dancing in his eyes. It always sparkled beneath those dark lashes when his attention landed on you. It gave the feeling of being put under those microscopes they used at the human outpost. The undeniable heat of his studying gaze. 

“I am not in the mood for jokes, Lo’ak.” You ground out. 

“Really? But you’ve been so pleasant this morning-”

“Shut up.” Hardly the comeback you were looking for but despite the sharp sting to your words, Lo’ak only struggled harder not to grin back at you. You were ready to tear his eyes out, or maybe your own depending on the validity of his claim, and yet all he could do was joke at a time like this. “You should have told me everything last night.” 

Lo’ak’s half grin slowly lowered into a thoughtful pout. You veered your attention away from those plump lips, afraid of the way your imagination was already piecing together what this supposed kiss would have looked like. 

“You’re right, yawne, as usual. I only thought you were already a bit embarrassed so I didn’t believe adding the kiss to the list would help matters.” 

“Embarrassed? What by the stars above do I have to be embarrassed of?” A lot. Oh so much that you had to spend half of your energy just pushing away the leering weight of thinking about what drunken acts you had gotten up to. 

“Nothing at all.” His hands raised in surrender before reaching back to take down his tied hair. “Attraction is a perfectly natural feeling and so is acting upon it.” Lo’ak casually drawled, skilled fingers now working to gather his hair into a low bun at the back of his head. 

“Attraction?!” It came out as almost a squawk, voice cracking in the midst. “Attraction to what? To you?”

Your tone did little to ruffle his feathers as he finished securing his hair and nodded calmly. “Like I said, natural.” 

“I am not attracted to you!” Heat rose beneath your skin, cheeks sure to already be inflamed into a deep blush. You prayed that Lo’ak would read that purplish hue as evidence of the rage you felt instead of this ‘embarrassment’ he claimed to know so much about. 

“I’m not asking you to admit it.” Those signature beads dangled as he casually leaned against the nearest tree. 

“Well good because there is nothing to admit.” You fired back, hands balling into fists. 

“Alright.” 

“Good.”

“Good.” He echoed back. Lo’ak pushed off the tree before striding past you. The perfect opportunity to escape and yet you couldn’t stop yourself from trailing after him.

“I’m being serious.” You insisted, frown deepening when you heard a deep chuckle emanate from his chest. 

“I wouldn’t expect otherwise from you, paskalin.” 

Your heated glare sought to burn a hole into the back of his head but keeping up with Lo’ak’s natural pace was a struggle that made your intimidation efforts that much less effective as one of his strides equaled about three of yours. It felt like hobbling after the taller male instead of the hunt you were aiming for. 

“But you don’t believe me.” 

Lo’ak twirled on his heel suddenly. Your skid to a stop was anything but graceful as you almost crashed straight into his chest. Four fingered hands went to steady you, but you pushed them away. However, with crossed arms you refused to retreat out of his space, determined to establish some sort of dominance in this conversation that has taken such a turn. 

“Why do you care so much if I believe you?” He mimicked your posture, crossed arms showing off the veins that traveled up that swirling blue skin into pronounced biceps. 

“Because…” You sputtered for some sort of reasonable explanation, but he had brought up a point. He was right, there was no logical reason for you to care about his opinion. So what if he had a big head about it, most days you just wanted him to leave you alone. “Because you’re wrong.” 

“Am I?”

“Yes!”

“Last night you told me I smelled good seven different times.” A lump formed in your throat, eyes desperately wanting to look anywhere else but him. 

“And you counted it.” You shot back, fighting the urge to shift your weight from foot to foot. 

“You’re right I did.” Came his immediate reply and somehow his instant acceptance of your accusation was that much more infuriating. “But that’s the difference between me and you, paskalin.”

He took one stride forward, but it was enough to close the last piece of distance between you two. “I’m not afraid to admit that I want you. Neither am I afraid to admit that I enjoyed the way you played with my hair. I savored every moment that you willingly sat there on my lap and when you suddenly leaned in to seal the night with a kiss, I couldn’t stop myself from kissing back.” Lo’ak didn’t touch you, he knew better than that, but with his shadow falling over your smaller form and purred words dripping from his lips it may as well have been as strong as skin up skin. 

“And yet you have the nerve to say you didn’t take advantage of me.”

“It was one kiss. I pulled away the second you did. And when your sister said it was time to turn in for the night I had every intention of walking you home myself and leaving you alone. But you had other plans. And yawne, I’m trying my best to behave for you but I’m also a male. A male that can barely breathe when I’m around your sweet scent so when the woman of my dreams is clinging to my arm and sweetly asking to stay in my kelku where she feels more safe, I tuck her into my hammock without complaint.” 

Every muscle in your body seemed to lock up, accurately aware of the last few inches between your chest and his stomach. Even more so strung up by the shameless confession falling from those perfect lips. 

“Is that the truth you were looking for?” He asked, one brow arching. 

A long pause hung between you before your motor functions returned back online. “I never said I want you.”

“Your scent does the talking for you.” 

Your right hand balled up into a fist again, almost tempted to deliver a right hand hook that ironically Lo’ak himself had taught you as children, but then you felt the dampness between your legs. You were appalled to find that even in your anger, your body had fallen prey to the weight of his words and presence. Even Lo’ak’s own essence that now surrounded you like a warm cloak. 

“You ignorant ass!” The insult was accompanied by one push to his chest that had him stepping back immediately. You were sprinting in the other direction before he could get in another word. 

Lo’ak supposed he had no right to be surprised when you were unreachable for the rest of the day. Perhaps it was not his place to push you earlier but he also couldn’t find it in himself to keep from being anything but honest when it came to you. He knew better than to believe that one night in his kelku and a gift or two would win back your trust. The long game was a road paved by immense patience. A trait that was not his favorite to exhibit. 

However, patient or not, you deserved to know the depth of his feelings. You may not have been willing to accept them yet, but that wouldn’t stop him from expressing them all the same. Bottling it up only made his tossing and turning at night all that much worse. Especially now that your scent lingered in his kelku. It was a new form of delicious torture to press his nose into the blanket that was still drenched in your natural perfume.  

Neteyam encouraged him to continue being diligent and patient, perhaps the only piece of advice that kept him from searching for you when he found your kelku empty upon dropping off your dinner. Perhaps he had a point, even if he were to find you it was obvious that the only thing he could expect from your company was snide comments and harsh glares. And yet, Lo’ak couldn’t help but feel a craving even for that. 

So when plans changed the following day and Lo’ak was invited to cliff jump with a group you were meant to be present with, he couldn’t jump fast enough at the opportunity. A storm was meant to be rolling in a few days earlier than anticipated so it was the last opportunity they would have for a while to dive safely. Meaning that some projects were set to the side temporarily. 

He should have known better than to expect you with the group of friends the next morning. Neteyam, Talu, and even Kiri present but not you. When asked about your absence Talu had simply rolled her eyes and claimed she had done everything in her power to get you out of the house for some fun. To play hooky just this once. 

And immediately Lo’ak knew where to find you. Ignoring the protests at his bowing out, Lo’ak gave a quick wave goodbye and bounded through the forest towards his destination. 

And for once, you weren’t difficult to track down. 

Norm had asked for a group to start dismantling one of the last surviving air crafts left behind by the RDA. He wanted to get it foraged for any remaining supplies that could be of use, however, the vehicle was left in a precarious condition. Hanging high in the trees above, it looked more like a crushed tin can than the death machine he knew it was during the heat of battle. Pulling it apart to even examine for anything salvageable would take a whole group of Na’vi an afternoon. 

And yet, there you were. Alone and cursing under your breath as you tugged at the crushed side door with all your might. Lo’ak stifled a chuckle when he saw the position you were in, legs wrapped around a higher tree branch so that you could swing upside down and try to access the left side of the aircraft. 

That threatening laughter subsided into a different feeling when he caught a glimpse of the way your beaded top barley clung to your chest in this upside down position. Only a few beads hanging loosely to cover your perked nipples. 

Gulping down the lump in his throat, Lo’ak fought the urge to adjust himself in his loincloth. No doubt, you wouldn’t take kindly to his presence in the first place, let alone any evidence of his sudden arousal. 

“I knew I’d find you here.” He called from below. 

He was caught between guilt and amusement when his sudden comment had you losing grip on the branch with a surprised squeak and sliding across the top of the aircraft. His smile dropped when you peeked up from the other side of the machine and leveled him with a fiery glare. 

“Aren’t you meant to be jumping off a cliff, dumb ass?” He heard your voice echo from above as he made quick work of scaling up the tall tree. The moment his head peeked up over the last branch, small hands scrambled to push at his own. “Go back! I don’t want you here.” 

Your feeble attempts to push him off were borderline adorable as he easily lifted himself up over the last hurdle and sat back on his haunches beside you. 

“You might have a hard time cracking this thing open on your own.” 

A muscle in your jaw ticked, tempting him to run the pad of his finger along your delicate features. God, even when you looked ready to beat him off with a stick you were nothing short of exceptional. 

“Not that it will stop you.” He added.

“What makes you so sure?” You challenged, rising to your feet swiftly to climb back to the other side of the aircraft. Lo’ak followed, as if drug by an invisible cord tying himself to you. 

“Because I know you.”

The comment earned him a scoff, your tail snapping back at him when his hovering got too close. 

“You knew me as a kid, Lo’ak. I’ve grown.” 

“Undoubtedly.” A few brisk strides spun him in front of you to block the path. “Grown more capable. Grown more independent.” Lo’ak paused, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “More beautiful.” He whispered. 

“Grown less gullible.” You shot back, causing him to stumble as you pushed at his shoulders to get him out of the way. He watched you pass, resisting the urge to keep himself within your bubble. Distance may make the heart grow fonder but no one told him that distance from you would drive him into madness. 

“Still just as stubborn as ever.” 

You resumed your position on the other side of the aircraft, this time ignoring the taller shadow that followed your every step. With precarious footing you were able to grip the edges of the crushed door but could only apply a small amount of force without losing your balance. 

“Yes yes I know, Lo’ak. I’m a stick in the mud. Don’t know when to quit and run off for fun and games with the others. I believe Talu has already beat you to the punch on this lecture. I’m not interested in a repeat. Not all of us can be a social butterfly like you.” 

For a moment Lo’ak was caught in the whiplash of your self deprecating misunderstanding and a comment towards him that seemed to almost be a complement. But then your left foot was slipping and his body was reacting before his mind could catch up. One rushed leap heaved himself into your space, one hand gripping the rack atop the roof of the aircraft while his other arm slunk around your waist to pull you back into place. 

Your smaller hands threatened to break his focus as they willingly clung to his broad shoulders for support. 

“You are nothing like me, tiyawn.” Those oh so kissable soft lips turn down into almost a pout. “And that’s what I love about you.” 

Ear tucked back against your luscious hair and tail curling around your own ankle, the surprise at his comment gave him enough time to gently lift your body to tuck against his with one arm before carefully dispositing you to a safe perch on his left. Thoughts formed more clearly without your mouth watering essence creating a fog around them. 

And yet, even staring at those beautiful golden eyes that were now relaxed from your usual glare, shot in his direction was too much to handle if he had any hope of expressing himself with more than one syllable responses. By Eywa, why did the Great Mother create such an exquisite creature to torture him with?

He turned, setting himself into a different foothold that allowed him to slowly start peeling back the thin crushed metal. Every muscle tensed as he forced it back inch by inch but the harder fight was keeping his lips from turning up into a crooked grin when he felt your intent gaze burning through him. A new spice nipped at your signature scent. Just a whiff of your arousal was enough to feel a renewed hardness between his own legs. 

“You may not be some exuberant social butterfly. You may not run after danger and adventure at a rate only skxawngs like me can manage.” The metal pulled back another inch, the sounding screech almost covering up your short mixture of a laugh forced into a scoff. “But I could never be you, yawne.” He paused, daring to meet your eyes. 

“So brave. So resilient. I’ve heard the stories.” The endless hours you had spent in the healers tent as wave after wave of mauled Na’vi came through those doors. There was not an ounce of him that could even feign surprise when he heard it was you that had spent the longest cleaning and stitching wounds, rebreaking bones back into position, sometimes even scrambling to rush that tent down the stream an extra mile as the bombs rained closer. 

“I think you have me confused with someone else. Perhaps one of your other girlfriends that in fact stormed into battle with a weapon in hand. I am no brave warrior.” 

Lo’ak’s eyebrows scrunched. He couldn’t find it within himself to even care for the brief snide in your comment when faced with your wavering confidence on display. You were never one to hide your emotions well, despite what you would like to believe. The mask you wore was always cracked, leaving him a sliver to peek into what plagues your mind. 

“You fought just as hard as them. Simply in a different way.” 

“Lo’ak there is no need to shower me with flattery. I know that I stayed on the sidelines while they faced death. I am no fighter. I was never meant to be and I accept that.” 

Something seized in his chest, pushing his body into motion until he was back into your space, eyes bearing down at you with an intensity he hoped would burn through your stubborn defenses. 

“No one faced death the way you did, yawne. The others may have gone into the heat of battle knowing the potential consequences of doing so but you were among those that dealt with those worst case consequences day in and day out. You had a front row seat to loss and turmoil. Men and women’s lives hanging in the balance, that decision sometimes being made by the rush of your own hands. There is nothing about it that remotely resembles sitting on the sidelines and I don’t know what how you fucking did it.” His lungs seized for air. “I’ve had more than my fair share of war, but I could never imagine plucking up the courage to face that terror.” 

It was only after the spill of words that Lo’ak could recognize the way his blood raced. The heat that now had his tail flashing with an adrenaline that he could almost attribute to furry. Looking down at your flushed expression, lips parted and momentary disbelief at his sudden confession, he couldn’t blame himself either for harboring that anger. 

How could you not see what he did? Surely after all that you’ve endured, you should be the one spitting this speech confidentiality back at him. Telling him off for even attempting to court such a fearless goddess as yourself, and you would be right. And yet, all you could do is stare back at him with a wide eyed expression and the wheels in your head turning to keep up. 

“I’m sorry.” That timid whisper broke the silence and it was only then that Lo’ak had the sense to release his clenched jaw. You weren’t apologizing for thinking such things but rather for getting him so riled up and that had him drawing back within an instant. 

“No I…” He gaped for the right words, bottom lip tucking between his sharp teeth. “I simply…” He paused, brows pulled together as you looked up at him with curious eyes. “I wish you could understand all the pieces that make you so magnetic, yawne. I have never met someone who cares as much as you. Utterly devoted to the people, offering your whole self to a cause without a second thought. You’re not a stick in the mud, tiyawn. You’re a rare gem.”

It was not his intention to render you speechless but Lo’ak couldn’t claim to be against the view it gave. The tense scrunch of your features relaxed until those beautiful eyes were peering up at him with the sparkle of a rushing river beneath sunlight. A certain softness fell over your countenance, one that was made even more breathtaking when a pink glow blossomed over your cheeks. 

The trance you had fallen over could only last so long before you were muttering about getting back to work and sheepishly dipping past his shoulder. His lips parted for a just moment in search of digging into what change he had just witnessed but he quickly stopped himself. Lo’ak knew when it was best not to push his luck. You allowing him to stay and work was already more than he would have guessed to receive a few minutes prior, so he took that miracle in stride. 

However, there was nothing to sate the side of him that sparked with curiosity and desire when it came to you. He jabbered on about anything and everything he could think of just to shoot at a chance you would have something to say in response. For a while it seemed that nothing could steal your attention away from the task it was pinpointed on, that is until a sudden burst of frustration had you slamming your fist against the curved metal and cutting off Lo’ak’s current Metkayina story. 

“Stupid sky demon technology.” You muttered with a dark glint, trying once again to claw at the metal edge and pull back with all your might. 

The majority of your joint efforts to dismantle the aircraft had come from Lo’ak’s own hands. Meanwhile you had stubbornly continued to struggle at pulling back even the slightest slab of metal. You were being too hard on yourself. His hands were not only larger and protected by the rough calluses he had gained handling weaponry and scavenging around hard ocean rock, but he also had the prior knowledge of sky people weapons manufacturing on his side. He knew which areas were weak points that he could exploit and which pieces were unlikely to budge without better tools. 

Your hands were soft and nimble, perfectly designed for climbing trees and stitching up wounds. Designed perfectly for so many wondrous things that had him staying up at night and fighting the tent in his loincloth. 

Shaking the rotting thoughts from his head, Lo’ak cautiously shifted forward to gently pry your hands from the sharp edge of metal. One more tug and it was sure to draw blood. 

“Mawey, we will get it eventually-”

“There is no time for eventually!” You shot back. The soft tuff of your tail whipped at his cheek when you abruptly spun on your axis to walk past him. A shiver raced all the way down to the tip of his own tail. “It is supposed to be finished today. I do not have another day to spare. With the healer’s tent still half broken and so many injured still waiting on a new batch of medicine…I…I can’t…” The sentences broke into choppy waves as your jaw clenched and tail snapped frantically in the wind. 

He sensed the best thing he could do was silently wait as you spouted out your stresses into a jumbled mess. 

“There is still so much left to fix!” And although you didn’t specify he knew you were no longer just talking about the crumpled aircraft you had yet to dismantle. The war had left a mark on the village not only emotionally but physically as well. Homes were being rebuilt, roles restructured with so many gaps left from those now in the arms of Eywa forever. The list could trail on forever. Knowing you, there was undoubtedly already a list stamped at the forefront of your mind to adhere to. 

But the village would be rebuilt.

The People would heal, they already were. 

It was the emotional scars you harbored that stung under such uncertain times. The same sting that had you wound into a tight coil. 

“I just…I can’t…” You let that thought drop with a huff, small hands now pressed over your heated face. 

Wind whistled through the trees, blanketing the prolonged moment of silence. 

“Do you know what the issue is?” Lo’ak carefully leaned back against the metal side. The look that you sent through parted fingers told him there was not a universe where you would ever be interested in what he thought the issue was. Regardless, he took that lack of response as an opportunity to continue. “You are too tense.” 

You scoffed, arms dropping to cross over your chest. 

“Everyone needs a break, yawne.” The heat in your eyes tried and failed to scorch him as he glided forward across the branch. “And you,” His bent knuckle tucked under your chin. “You more than anyone, need a release.” 

That double meaning did not bode well with you. His hand was slapped away just as the pink darkened across your cheeks. 

“Let me guess, this is your charming way of offering such services?” 

“What services do you mean, paskalin?” Lo’ak couldn’t keep the comment from his lips if he tried. Yet seeing your reaction, he couldn’t fathom why he would want to. Pointed ears on alert and a burning fire in your expression that was all the more lovely than the stressed tension you had worn moments prior. He meant what he said about your responsible nature being admirable, but it was obvious that a little fun could do you a lot of good. “Any service you require. I’m always happy to help you release that tension.” 

Swiftly you ducked under his arm and skated past him. 

“Handing out offers like that so freely, surely I would need to schedule an appointment several moon cycles in advance. I think I will pass.” 

It’s meant to be another stab at his younger reputation as a womanizer, but Lo’ak couldn’t help but revel in the jealousy that dripped from your voice. Subtle yet oh so sweet. 

“No need for jealousy, tiyawn. The offer is yours alone.” He carefully crafted his path to let your arms brush as he passed by. You must have felt the surge of electricity too as you halted in place and faced the male now towering in front of you. “Everyone knows that I belong to you.”

A hitch of breath so subtle that his ears had to strain to hear it, but present all the same. 

“I am at your disposal.”

He was taunting you. 

Or well…he had been since the beginning you supposed, but somehow now it seemed to actually have a physical effect on you. 

He had offered to provide a release from your stresses, not the first time either, yet now that idea was persistent in bouncing around your head constantly.  It roused a heat to your cheeks and between your thighs at the most inconvenient of times. You had found Lo’ak attractive upon the first time seeing him back from Awa’atlu, begrudgingly albeit, but now that the idea of not only looking but touching such an exquisite form had been planted, there was no escaping your body's reaction. 

There were a plethora of reasons you could have been feeling this way and you were eagerly holding on to every single excuse you could think of. You repeated that list in your mind over and over when you lay awake at night in your hammock, pulse rushing and temple sweaty after having experienced yet another erotic dream where Lo’ak had inserted himself as the leading star. 

It was the stress. It was never his place to point out but Lo’ak was right in assuming that there was far too much tension and anxiety riddling your every day routine. It felt as if there was always something being put on your plate. Even when there wasn’t you were sure to find another task to busy yourself with that felt like the most pressing matter possible. So when you tossed and turned at night, there was no easing the coiled muscles that made your shoulders rise up to your ears. A list of responsibilities were constantly on your mind, to the point where you even found yourself grateful for the consistent meals that Lo’ak left at your doorstep. Eywa, knows you would have nearly starved without it.

Even further, there was a new development in your home. That development was named Neteyam. Neteyam who was eager to fill his days with Talu’s company and even more than eager to show his appreciation of giving her time in a very…physical manner. She spent half the nights in his own kelku but your older sister still insisted on coming home frequently to keep you company, at least make it feel like she still lived there. 

However, part of you wished she would simply move into the Sully male’s kelku just so you wouldn’t have to hear their very prolonged goodbyes that consisted of far too much tongue and far too little clothing. You could never mistake Neteyam’s taller shadow casted on the privacy curtains as they attempted to sneak inside together. As two individuals that claimed to be accomplished warriors, there was no way they could truly believe this lack of stealth to mask their rendezvous from you. Or perhaps, much like his younger brother, Neteyam did not care to be modest in his sexual activities, wearing it as a trophy like the cocky bastard he was. 

So there you had been left, splitting your nights between dreaming of Lo’ak in your bed, running through the constant checklist of responsibilities, and hearing the damning evidence of Neteyam bringing your sister to a higher bliss over and over. 

All things considered, anyone else in your position would have crumbled by now. So what if your primal nature had come out to the surface under the recent pressures? A little arousal was normal for someone your age and by no means going to be the thing that crushed your logic to dust. 

Avoiding Lo’ak had become a normal part of your routine and it had seemed like the most reasonable course to combat these feelings. On your particularly sharp days you managed to go without a glimpse of his face until dinner and even then it was from afar. You figured without any new content to fuel these dreams they would surely putter out and you would be left to focus on more important matters. 

That had not been the case.

Perhaps one of the more foolish decisions you had made because it seemed the longer you spent away from Lo’ak the more instant your body’s reaction would be at the next glimpse of him. Your craving for him only grew as you denied yourself of his presence. Even the short peeks at his smile as he sat around the fire with friends had been enough to feel saliva pooling along your tongue. 

And then there was that first night you had truly seen him dance. With such a long war season having come to a close, impromptu celebrations around the dinner fire had become almost routine. Jake Sully’s youngest son was the furthest from sheepish when it came to starting the vibrant dancing. He jumped at the opportunity, teaching those around him the dances he had learned from the Metkayina. 

And you had to admit…you were a secret fan of the sea people’s version of dancing. The men moved with such force. It provoked a sense of weight in their presence while simultaneously showcasing an admirable flow of grace. The muscle of his thighs were pronounced with every bend and stomp. Those dark tattoos rolled like waves as Lo’ak swished his hips in time with heavy drums. You wanted to run your tongue over every inch of that dark ink. Perhaps see how far those lines traveled beneath his loincloth. 

Feeling utterly mortified by your own silent lust you had tried to draw away from the dancing as soon as you were broken out of trance. Of course, you had not always been successful. More than once, golden eyes had caught your own followed by a four fingered hand reaching out in invitation. 

Never before had your natural desires taken such hold on your everyday life. There had been crushes and even lust before but this felt constant. And watching Lo’ak moving his body with the confidence and charisma you could only dream of having every night, it felt like a personal attack. Every quirk of his lips into a smirk felt directed at you in a display of the conquest he anticipated. 

So your patience had been a little more fried at the start of the next diving lesson. You had hardly heard any of Neteyam or Lo’ak’s directions to the crowd at the beginning of the lesson, too busy staring off into the trees and keeping your teeth from grinding together. 

“Neteyam says you have to slow your heartbeat.” Talu reminded you the next time your head had rushed up from under the water prematurely. Her soft hand gently placed over your chest but her sympathetic smile had only been met with your narrowed eyes and downturned lips. 

“Of course he did.” 

Your voice strained to keep the sarcasm from bleeding in too heavily. It didn’t matter anyways, not when she was already making heart eyes at the future Olo’eyktan from across the way. He took one step in your general direction and you knew then that now was time to escape the barely concealed love fest that was about to take place. 

Ducking beneath the water again you swam in the opposite direction until your lungs were scorched with the need to breathe. Over and over you had tried the exercise only to come up faster each time. 

The lack of sleep was catching up with you, enough to have you stumbling across the slippery rocks and naturally falling into Lo’ak’s arms. Rough hands steadied you back into a standing position, his tail just barely missing a brush of your thigh. He said something, most likely checking to make sure you were alright, but none of it registered. All you could feel was the heat of his skin and that natural musky scent that somehow wafted even stronger when he was soaking wet. 

Your eyes snagged his own for only a second before you were diving back into the cold water. At least beneath the surface you were able to block out the sounds and scents of the day that were too much for you to handle. If only oxygen were not an essential. Then you could stay down here forever. A perfect sanctuary to collect your thoughts. 

The next time you sprung up from the depths you allowed yourself a moment of respite. Heart pounding and lungs seizing you couldn’t imagine holding your breath again. However, without that distraction your eyes naturally wandered to where Lo’ak instructed a Na’vi male from the other side of the small lake. Water dripped from his braids and created a dancing trail down the curve of his spine. 

So much for staying away. It seems that no matter what you did, Lo’ak was there to throw your day off course. Even when he wasn’t there he haunted your dreams. You mentally cursed whatever spell he has managed to put you under. Perhaps dark magic existed after all. 

If only you could have a break, just one moment where you were able to breathe.

A release.

That’s what Lo’ak had said. His head would grow until it exploded if you ever told him he was right, but the fact still remained, you needed relief. And you needed it now. 

Lo’ak was hardly subtle in the way he peeked back at you from the corner of his eye. His ears remained standing tall atop his head and while one could claim it was to listen for possible drowning Na’vi in need, you knew that his senses were attuned only to you. And that thought…

That thought alone made something burn within you. A certain excitement blossomed as your instincts were fueled by the idea of being wanted. So many nights you had spent alone in your hammock while listening to Neteyama and Talu wrestle and giggle next door. So many dreams you had woken up from only to find yourself missing a touch that never existed. 

But here was a male in his prime and he wanted you.

And, by the stars above, you couldn’t help but secretly admit that you wanted him too. 

Why not let him sate your desires? After all, was he not the one that put you into this hazy state? Dash logic to the side and forget the consequences that would come later, it was your turn to escape the pressure around you and get lost in the strong arms of a Sully male. 

Lo’ak spotted you before the water line had even lowered down to your hips. A part of you felt bad when all it took was one look his way and he was already neglecting the student in front of him.

Everyone knows I belong to you

 You briefly heard him jumble together some messy instructions and an excuse before water was sloshing behind you. He at least had the decency to wait a few moments after you had exited the lake before trailing after.

Adrenaline pulsed through you with every step, drowning out the voice of caution long enough for you to round the corner and enter a secluded cave. It raged even higher when you heard smooth footsteps falling closer. 

So when Lo’ak finally rounded the corner himself and you got another glimpse of those charming, yet currently confused, features, something inside of you snapped.

“Are you alri-” 

His question melted against your lips into that sudden kiss. Although initially he let out a small sound of surprise, Lo’ak dove back into the kiss the moment his brain had caught up with what was happening. 

This kiss was nothing like the sweet ones the two of you had shared as children. This was ravenous - addicting. And this time, it was you that now pushed the tension between you from taunt to absolutely filthy territory. 

His lips were softer than you remembered, but created a beautiful contrast to the sharp fangs that threatened to tear into your bottom lip. When Lo’ak nipped at the flesh there in silent question you wasted no time in sliding your tongue past his plush lips. 

Lo’ak tasted of the night breeze and the smoke from communal fires at dinner. Every inhale that you could spare between the battle of your lips and tongue was infused with his unique essence. Night’s whisper that could chill your bones during a summer day. 

It had you fingers tangling quickly into his braids, his own hands gripping at your hips in response. And when you suddenly shoved him back against the cave wall, he submitted to your small show of strength without question. In fact, a delighted grin spread to reveal those white teeth and an animalistic glint in his eye. 

Whatever bug you had caught from him, lighting your primal desires with no bounds, it seemed he had caught it too. Nothing but pure hunger and desperation in his countenance, all signs of surprise or concern washed away by the cave’s shadows. 

He burned for you just as much as you did him. And a part of you, perhaps a selfish part at that, yearned to see if he was suffering even more than you have been. 

So when you dove back in to reconnect your lips with ferver, your right hand caught his left wrist before it could land back on your waist. Pushing your body flush against his, you could feel the ripple of tension across his abdomen and shoulders, but he showed no signs of rebellion when you pressed his hand back against the cave wall. 

His right hand mirrored the placement on the other side of him, nails digging into the rock. 

In no universe would you have a chance of overpowering him physically. Neither did your actions exhibit much true force in the first place, but Lo’ak allowed you to wrestle him into your desired position. 

Everybody knows I belong to you.

I belong to you.

He had every chance to spin the situation to his advantage, to finally take what he claimed to have been craving for years. But instead, it was you that got to take. Everything he had offered for you on a silver platter. 

You hadn’t meant for it to be a test, but regardless he had passed with flying colors. His patience was rewarded when you dragged his left hand back to your hips and released it to explore. You had some exploring of your own to do, lips brushing down the column of his throat while finally running your knuckles over the dark lines of his tattooed sides. 

The contrast of his calloused hands mapping out your soft skin was maddening. It had been a long time since someone had touched you in this way but you hadn’t realized how desperate you had become for a foreign touch. Or more specifically, for his touch. So confident and smooth yet voracious when he sought to leave the imprint of his fingertips along your hips and waist.  

“Fuck yawne.” His voice was wrapped with a gravelly timbre. One that traveled straight to your core. 

Such deliciously sweet torment he suffered as you bit harshly over his pulse, but Lo’ak blossomed like a flower beneath it. You could feel the way it took everything within him to not pin you to the ground and take what his body has been begging for. It was almost a more mouth watering display of strength to watch him contain his natural brawn with the veins in his arms popping, than experience the ease at which he could manhandle you. 

Leaving marks along his throat was not enough anymore. It seemed this game was creating a specific suffering for you as well, the rush of your own arousal becoming borderline painful to endure. He was eager when you tugged him down for another kiss. His knees bent slightly and back curved in order to accommodate the vast height difference. 

If you decided to, would he let you push him down onto his knees. A mighty warrior of both land and sea gazing up at you from a place between your thighs. His tongue only a few inches away from where you wanted it most.

The thought had your head spinning and nails digging into his shoulder blades. Lo’ak welcomed every increase of passion with just as much enthusiasm to reciprocate. However, you needed him closer. Needed to intertwine your bodies until there was no telling where you ended and he began. 

Without pulling away from the kiss you steadied your hands on his shoulders and bent your knees to jump. He took the silent cue in stride, managing to capture your waist in his hands just before you leaped. 

You felt as light as a feather being carried by the wind as he slowly lowered your body to slide along his chest and stomach until your legs could slink around his trimmed waist. There was no rush in the action, because for him there wasn’t any physical strain either. 

He dared to push his luck just an inch further. Four fingered hands smoothed down the curve of your spine before settling at the beginning of your backside’s curve. Permission was given in the form of your tongue swirling around his devilishly. And the Omatikaya warrior did not need to be told twice before he was sinking them down further and gripping a cheek in each hand. 

Your smaller hands gripped like claws in his ebony braids. And when you tugged back on them without warning, breaking the kiss, a wide grin spread over his features, accompanied by a husky laugh. Lo’ak Sully was not simply tolerating your devious attitude. He was fanning the flames to your fire, reveling in that rising heat. 

And heat there was. You could feel your arousal gathering in your tewng like molten lava. Surely he too could feel it seep through the fabric as your core was pressed against his pelvis. It seemed his patience could only go so far, as he used the grip on your ass to rock you down further to where a bulge had formed in his own tewng. 

It felt as if the sparks of a shooting star had rippled between you too. And you were drunk on it. Drunk on him. 

As he released another groan into your mouth, you knew that you would never be able to get enough of Lo’ak Sully. 

“Bro you can’t run off in the middle of a- oh sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Neteyam was turning on his heel before he had properly even entered the cave. He shuffled back out the way he came, but not before sending one last peak over his shoulder. 

Your gaze remained frozen to the space it had snapped to upon being interrupted. Neteyam was gone, but that didn’t change the fact that he saw you grinding against his brother while sticking your tongue down his throat. 

“Just ignore him.” Lo’ak pleaded between the open mouthed kisses he laid over your jaw. 

He groaned for a less pleasant reason this time when you wiggled out of his arms. Both of your labored breathing filled the cave as he waited for your next move. His eyes shined with hope even as his lips were on the verge of turning downwards. 

A similar feeling of disappointment had settled in your gut just as quickly. Regardless, there was no telling what you would do if you stayed one more second locked in this heated moment with him. 

And so with red hot cheeks and a stumble to your step, you sprinted to safety. 

Please comment, reblog, or send an ask with your thoughts. It does so much for my motivation<3

Taglist: @hauntingvenus @yawnetu @baybaybear1 @affinity101022 @tsireyasluvr @dayyzlol @puddle-nerd @hazelwebsterboo2 @acerbicmoon @aesteticxsariana @pandoraslxna @faintfill @neteyamssyulang @justcaptiannoodles @loran-ako @chaoticfaelle @yumimak @duckhierarchy @rivatar @eddiesbabygurl

[lihhelsing]

"Can I get your coffee order?"

STWG daily prompt 6/2/24 (let's pretend it's not two days late): Coming Out Pairing: steddie | tags: coming out, coffee shop au, modern au, meet cute, fluff

Eddie was used to seeing the same guy in the coffee shop every day. It was impossible not to notice him because he was gorgeous and Eddie was a simple man who liked to admire beautiful things. 

So Steve would come in every day and always at the same time, ordering the same thing. Double Espresso with a shot of Vanilla. It suited him, Eddie thought, but he would always see him looking at the menu as if he was considering ordering something different, just to end up with the same thing every day. 

It was kind of cute. 

Sometimes he would sit alone for half an hour, face buried in his phone. Sometimes a loud brunette girl would join him but then they would never stay for long. Eddie didn’t like those days even if he thought she looked like a nice person. 

And then sometimes Steve would come in and order for two, then he would proceed to sit at a table and in a few minutes a girl would join him. Always a different girl, which told Eddie none of them were his girlfriends. 

One could even think this was some sort of job interview because it was pretty clear Steve wasn’t fully into the conversation. He was trying, sure, but after an hour the girl would inevitably excuse herself and leave. Steve would hang out for a few more minutes and then leave too, not looking back. 

And he’d do it all over again on a different day. 

Eddie couldn’t even feel guilty about paying attention. Steve always came in when the rush hour had passed and the coffee shop was mostly empty, and Eddie didn’t have much to do. And yeah, sure he was also a little obsessed with him so he was curious what was all that about. 

Surely Steve didn’t seem the kind of guy to have dating issues. 

The day Eddie noticed something was different was when Steve came in and ordered a Chai Latte. For anyone else, this might mean nothing, but Eddie knew better and he had watched Steve for long enough to know that if he finally changed his order after months, something was up. 

He didn’t want to look like a creep so he smiled like he always did and thanked the fat tip Steve left him, like he always did. And maybe Eddie flirted a little, but who could blame him? Steve was just too handsome for his own good and Eddie was just a man. 

Eddie gave him his drink and politely waited for a few minutes just to make sure Steve wasn’t expecting anyone, and then he finally moved in. 

“Hey, how’s your drink?” Eddie asked, trying to sound as casual as possible. Steve looked up at him through thick eyelashes and Eddie wanted to die a little. 

“Oh, it’s good. I never had one of these so I can’t really compare it to anything else, but I like how it tastes.”

Eddie hummed, “Well, tell you what, I make a mean Matchá if you ever feel like broadening your horizons.”

Steve chuckled and nodded, “I might take you up on that, actually.”

They stood in silence and Eddie was ready to accept his defeat when Steve spoke again. 

“I just… Started to realize I might want to try different things.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, “how so?”

“Well, I used to drink the same coffee every day and it was good, don’t get me wrong. But I kept looking and looking and it felt like I was... Missing something,” Steve frowned as he spoke, almost as if he was talking about coffee but thinking about something else. 

“It’s what they say, don’t knock it til you try it, am I right?”

Steve chuckled and Eddie was under the impression he was just being polite. 

“For sure. It’s just hard sometimes, to try new things. Even if you are… Curious.”

“I say just go for it. The worst that can happen is you spend a few bucks on something you will never want to drink again, but if that ever happens I got you. I’ll get you something different on the house,” Eddie said and then he winked because he was a sick little man. 

The blush that crept onto Steve’s cheek was beautiful, though, so he was only half-sorry. 

“Oh, what if… It’s not coffee that I want to try?” Steve said, not meeting Eddie’s eyes. 

Eddie smiled and motioned his hand to the drink menu, “Lucky for you we have an assortment of drinks like refreshers and matchá and even some teas-“

“I mean, what if this isn’t about drinks?” 

Now Eddie was completely lost. He looked back to meet Steve’s eyes and there was an intensity behind them that gave him chills. 

“What do you mean?”

“I, um…” Steve looked around as if making sure the place was empty and still lowered his voice a little. “What if I’m not as straight as I always thought I was?”

Eddie tried to contain his surprise and forced his expression to remain neutral, not wanting to spook him. 

“That’s ok, too. Lord knows I’m gay as it comes and it took me a few tries to figure it out,” Eddie chuckled, but Steve’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “I mean, you don’t have to be gay either! You can be bi or pan or-“

“Sorry, I made this awkward. I’m sorry. I’ve just been having these feelings and Robin says I can always talk to her but it feels that if I even ask it will be real and then if I turn out to be just confused then she will be disappointed because she always said I was her straight token friend but I know she would be happy if I wasn’t-“

“Hey, hey,” Eddie moved his hand and touched Steve’s shoulder lightly. He just hoped he wasn’t crossing a line. That definitely wasn’t the first time a customer said something incredibly personal out of the blue, but it was the first time someone was coming out to him like that. 

Steve looked up at him with huge brown eyes and Eddie felt his insides melting a little. Here it was, this cute guy having a sexuality crisis and just looking even cuter. 

“I don’t know you and obviously don’t know this friend of yours. Robin, is it? But if she loves you, and I’m assuming she does, she will love you no matter what. Even if you have to come out to her as… Straight?” Eddie said that and got a snort back from Steve. 

At least that was better than the desolation he had in his eyes before. 

“I guess you’re right,” Steve said, nodding his head. 

“And hey, you can definitely try things out and figure out you were straight all along, but from my experience, straight people don’t usually question their sexuality or even feel the curiosity to do so. They just are. So my best bet would be on you being one of us. Assuming your friend Robin is also not straight.”

“Oh, definitely not,” Steve said, laughing and he just looked so much better like that. 

“Well, ok Steve, then my job here is done! I’m sure Robin will have much better advice to give to you, but you can always count on me to try different coffees,” and there it was, the fucking wink again. Who did Eddie think he was? 

Steve blushed again and now Eddie could see they were pretty damn close. He slowly pulled his hand from Steve’s shoulder as to not make him uncomfortable, but it seemed that Eddie’s pep talk had done the trick because now Steve had this glint in his eyes. 

“Can I buy you coffee?” he asked, smiling slowly. 

“Uh, what?”

“You know, since I’m already trying things I thought it would be nice to try uh… A Matchá, you said? And a… Date?”

Holy fucking Jesus. Steve was fucking smooth. Eddie felt his cheeks getting warm and he looked around to conclude they were still alone at the coffee shop. There was not a single reason for him to turn this down even if Steve ended up figuring out he was straight. Yeah, fat chance. 

“Lead the way, big boy,” Eddie motioned for the counter and Steve smiled, nodding and following him right into their first date. 

[leashybebes]

more of this. context: tommy, after catastrophically crashing! that! truck! finds himself living with the delucas and accidentally learning about love. i promise this is still a bucktommy fic but tommy is my special little guy and i'm enjoying unpacking him almost too much.

There are raised voices in the kitchen when Tommy gets back from therapy, and he hesitates in the hallway until he hears Gina laugh, the sound of a series of slaps delivered to solid muscle, and put me down, you animal. He joins them in the kitchen and gets a pair of loose, easy smiles in greeting and a beer pushed into his hand as soon as he sits at the table and hangs his cane from the hook Sal had drilled into the wall and never mentioned.

"Sera's at a sleepover and this idiot's off shift for two days so we're getting a little loaded," Gina says. "Join us?"

Tommy's face must do something, because Sal leans over to flick his earlobe and says, "Parenthood means taking your opportunities when you get 'em, okay. Don't be a square."

Just for that, Tommy invites Gina into the backyard with him to share one of his mostly medicinal joints, leaving Sal, as the only one with a job that drug tests, to glare at them through the window until Gina blows him a kiss. Tommy copies her and Sal reaches out with both hands, pretending to catch the gestures and press them close to his heart before he turns away and busies himself with something.

Gina passes the joint back to Tommy and rests her head on his shoulder.

"How you doing, hon?"

Tommy shrugs his other shoulder. "Therapy sucks."

"You can just say I was right, I promise I won't tell Sal."

"You're right about everything," he assures her.

"You know it," she says, offering him a hand to help him up when he snuffs out the joint and returns it to the little jar for later.

Back in the kitchen, Sal has music playing and the oven is on, the smell mostly a combination of dough and breadcrumbs that speaks of the kind of snacks they only let Sera have once in a blue moon.

"Do I smell pizza rolls, Deluca? What happened to the guy who bitched about west coast pie every chance he got?" Tommy asks.

"I've mellowed," Sal says and Tommy and Gina share a glance over the sound of his protests.

He's not wrong, though. Sal and Gina had been…volatile, back in the day. Never violent, but the yelling… It always gave Tommy a headache when he hung out with the two of them. Looking back, it was mostly Sal being an asshole, and Gina not letting it go unnoticed. If they weren't yelling though, they were deeply, wildly into each other. That gave Tommy a different kind of headache, seeing how easily and effortlessly they orbited each other while he sat and very politely held Abby's hand, his trajectory through her life like an asteroid's orbit instead, never quite lining up, straying close and then getting further and further and further away.

The point is, when they got married Tommy didn't make any 'I'll give it a year' jokes but he did hear a few, and he didn't necessarily disagree. Turns out he was completely wrong. This is more time than he's ever spent with the two of them - more time than Tommy's spent with any other person - since the army. He sees them squabble and he sees them tired and he sees them move like pieces of a machine they've built together. It's - it's really lovely. Despite everything - despite what brought him here, deposited him like a weird spare part into their lives, he's grateful that he gets to see it.

The familiar opening bars of Only The Good Die Young come through the speakers and blend with the sound of Sal's laughter, pulling Tommy from his thoughts.

"Oh baby, they're playing our song," Sal says.

Gina gives him a look but Sal has mischief in every inch of him as he croons along with you Catholic girls start much too late. Gina flicks his ass with a dishcloth and he cackles as he grabs three more beers from the fridge and passes one to Tommy, making a show of uncapping Gina's bottle and presenting it to her with a flourish.

He grabs her by the waist once she's pulled the tray of college dorm level snacks out of the oven to cool and she rolls her eyes but drapes her arms over his shoulder, beer still danging from two fingers. Faces close, they grin at each other as Sal sings your mama told you all that I could give you was a reputation and Gina rolls her eyes and lets him sway her around the kitchen. There's a story there - Mrs Cattaneo had been one of the loudest I'll give it a year voices, up to and including during Sal and Gina's first dance where she'd been ineffectively shushed by Gina's little sister - but it doesn't stop them laughing as Sal dips her dangerously low and pops a kiss onto her nose as he sets her back on her feet.

The song changes to something slower and Sal shoves a pizza roll into his mouth, chewing disgustingly.

"Tommy, please, cut in," Gina begs.

"I'm not gonna sing," Tommy warns her.

"Thank Christ."

The night wears on until Tommy's leg starts to ache despite the weed and he taps out reluctantly. In bed, he closes his eyes to the sound of Sal singing along to Springsteen's version of Jersey Girl - Tommy prefers the original but Sal definitely doesn't have the range for that - and he pictures the two of them dancing in the kitchen. Overlaid images of Sal, sweating in his wedding suit and Gina beautiful in the white dress her mom had been kind of shitty about, and the two of them now; older and softer and more tired, Gina in cropped leggings and Sal's sweatshirt, Sal in joggers and a loose t-shirt with the sleeves cut off.

He loves them both so much, uncomplicatedly and easily for what might be the first time in his whole life. He falls asleep thinking about that - about love without barbs, without the threat of it changing if he lets himself be too much himself.

tagging those who requested it. as always, let me know if you want out, no pressure, like i said this was and will be a b/t joint, but it'll take a minute

@typicalopposite, @silversky9, @my-ari-fan-blog1, @setmeatopthepyre, @theres-a-tvjoe,

@de-lphic, @teabroomsandbooks, @nydoorin-lionett, @all-the-feelss, @yveieec,

@faerietle, @rosyhoneydew, @kinardbuckleys, @a-mel0n, @bucktommyscones,

@louorcastiel, @mmso-notlikethat, @hyperfocusthusly, @sweet-jani, @subduedpondering,

@beckym2001, @sad-girl-hours23, @itsametaphorok, @louuieferrignojr, @rubydaiquiri,

@sasha-gtnp, @saibowtie, @justtoarguewithyou

[jewish-vents]

i finally got up the energy to watch the john oliver segment on the west bank (i normally like his stuff/opinions but anything about i/p is such a fucking landmine for me these days) and by the end of it my fiancé who was sitting next to me was like “we can stop. we can turn it off if it’s making you this mad” but i was so rage-invested that i watched until the end.

i HATE that the entire segment is ostensibly about the current status quo in the west bank (judea and samaria for anybody with any historical fucking knowledge of the area) and never mentions the palestinian authority ONCE. he accuses israel of apartheid as if they are the only people with any control over what happens in the west bank and as if the pa is like. a fairytale that doesn’t actually exist and have real sovereign powers over their areas in the west bank. it’s so gross!! it made me feel so gross!! because without discussing the pas role in the current status quo (or even WHY the current status quo is the way that it is) you CANT have a real conversation about the west bank. it’s just so disingenuous. you can criticize what is happening there without presenting a one-sided narrative that only addresses israel’s role and places all the blame on them. he DID mention the 6 day war but FAILED to mention WHY it was fought/who it was actually fought with, making it seem like israel just attacked the poor palestinians and annexed their land for no reason!! not because they were attacked by multiple surrounding countries on the holiest day of our fucking year!! mentioning that or even acknowledging israelis as having any humanity apparently makes you one of (((them)))

there were a lot of moments that were good, and then so many that were thinly veiled condescension towards any jewish audience members—like he DID mention christian zionists and how gross they can be, and then essentially chastised jews for taking support from them?? which. ok buddy that’s not really an issue you’ve demonstrated yourself qualified to speak on. i know my synagogue works with a local christian zionist organization and it’s probably because who the fuck else is willing to help us!!! really!!! you point out that our only allies don’t actually want to help us (like we don’t fucking know that) without an OUNCE of reflection as to WHY jews might be working with people who openly state that they want us to be converted by j. chrizzy during the rapture. you don’t have to tell us why that’s bad we fucking know!! please call me up when you have any other organizations with money and political power in the us who are willing to do even the slightest fucking thing to assist jewish communities!! i’ll die waiting!!

it’s just. the lack of concern for presenting a nuanced depiction of what is happening in the west bank all while pretending to be presenting a nuanced and well-researched (lmao) depiction of the west back. yes they did some things right (citing israeli sources, finding israeli and palestinian people talking about it instead of secondary sources, no al j. in sight) and that actually makes me ANGRIER because it shows that they could have spent the proper time breaking this down! they clearly have the research skill for this over there! there is NO WAY, in all their time spent on b’tselem (source they actually cited which i was impressed by considering i didn’t know non jewish americans knew abt them) that they didn’t run across a single article about the pas role in the current status quo in the west bank. you can’t break down what areas a b and c are without also understanding the pas role in that. there’s just so much that’s not there that should be and it’s so infuriating because you know that it was a choice. they know about the pa. they know why the wall was built and why the checkpoints are in place. they just don’t fucking care. he cites the number of israelis killed in a period of years and then points out that ten times that number of palestinians were killed in the same timeframe. which is so gross!! let’s not compare piles of corpses to determine moral superiority thanks!! and presenting those numbers devoid of any context other than “many of them [palestinians] were killed by israeli security forces” only serves to minimize israeli suffering and concern for their safety while ALSO minimizing legitimate palestinian suffering by lumping in victims of anti-arab hate crimes with terrorists killed by the military. it’s gross and patronizing and for all the jokes he makes about shit he can’t talk about as a british american he is sure running his fucking mouth

i just wish people would stop trying to condense this conflict down into something that’s easily digestible and consumable in less than 30 minutes. there are horrible people on both sides and refusing to acknowledge that stops the conversation before it can start. all this did was further villainize israel in the minds of armchair expert leftists (since john is like a king to them) and contribute absolutely nothing meaningful or interesting to the conversation. it’s just regurgitated uncontextualized pseudo intellectual bullshit. i’m an english teacher i can sniff a pile when i see one. i rlly wish leftists would just. leave us alone already. new year is coming up and i’m trying to find it in my heart to forgive you know? but fuck that. i’m so sick of goyim talking down to us about this issue while simultaneously being the most misinformed fucks (whether by choice or sheer stupidity) to walk g-ds green earth. i guess i’m just tired.

.

[eliotquillon]

write me a story where cameron finally learns chase is allergic to strawberries thank you (you can ignore this ask)

rip to chase if i couldn’t eat strawberries i’d pretend not to care about anything either. anyway set between s3 and s4 (or maybe at the very start of s4 idk whatever. point is they haven’t been together too long)

“I could’ve killed you,” Cameron says, sounding angry and annoyed and not very sorry, but Chase knows it’s all a front; she’d cried in the ambulance, small and scared looking as soon as the EMTs not-so-kindly told her that as a doctor she should know that there was little else they could do between giving him more epi and getting him to the hospital, and he’d wanted to reach out and comfort her, but that had been difficult what with his throat being all swollen up at the time. “I cannot believe you didn’t tell me.”

“I wasn’t going to die, or anything,” Chase protests, because he doesn’t really want to talk about this right now: why he never bothered to sit Cameron down and go by the way, now that we’re sleeping each other regularly can you throw out everything you own that contains strawberry? Because there is a reason—Chase isn’t this cavalier with his health on a daily basis, honest—but it is going to upset her, and the whole reason why Chase never told her was specifically to avoid this kind of fight. There’s no polite way to say I was pretty sure you’d interpret it as a sign of impending commitment and run for the hills, especially now that Cameron is kind of adorably self-conscious about that whole period of their lives. He’s only been dating Cameron for three weeks; on balance, the risk of anaphylaxis is far less deadly than the one to their incredibly fledgling relationship. “I had my Epi-Pen on me.”

Cameron narrows her eyes at him in disgust. “I’m an immunologist,” she starts, preparing, no doubt, to rip into him about how Epi-Pens are a miracle of modern medicine but aren’t actually magic, and how anaphylactic reactions can worsen with repeat exposure, and Chase is actually kind of looking forward to it even though his throat is sore and his head is killing him and his body feels like it’s encased in syrup, because a side effect of the honeymoon phase is that he now finds it incredibly hot when she’s on the warpath, even at him—only she takes a big gulp of breath and she suddenly starts to cry again. Not quiet, terrified tears like the one in the ambulance, but big, rolling, heaving sobs. He’s seen her cry before, usually over patients, but not like this, and it freaks him out a little; Chase extends his IV-free arm towards her and corrals her in so she can rest her cheek on his chest. It’s lucky, he thinks, that they’d been closer to General than PPTH; she’d never let him do this if they were in the ER at Princeton-Plainsboro.

“Allison,” he says into her hair, voice still hoarse, “I’m fine. It was an accident.”

He almost adds this has never happened before—because it hasn’t, usually Chase has to actually ingest something strawberry to provoke a reaction, he’s never had one just from kissing someone until now—but he does, for better or for worse, know exactly how Cameron ticks, and he has a feeling that this won’t be as reassuring as he means for it to be. “I’m sorry,” he says instead, “I promise I’m not allergic to anything else.”

“You better not be,” Cameron huffs. She cranes her neck up to look at him, eyes red and puffy, and says, “You’re banned from my apartment until I can deep clean the kitchen. And the bathroom, and the bedroom. I have strawberry lube that I need to get rid of.”

“There’s probably not any actual strawberry in your lube,” Chase says. Cameron makes as though to thump his chest, then remembers he’s hooked up to an EKG and thinks better of it. “No need to ruin all our fun, is all I’m saying.”

“I’m an immunologist,” Cameron says again, but she doesn’t sob this time—it comes out more as a sigh. “You should’ve told me.”

Chase thinks, idly, of all the times Cameron brought her favourite strawberry cream cheese bagels into work and he’d turned them down—how many times House had raised his eyebrows at the sight, but never bothered to say anything, either. He thinks of Cameron crying in the ambulance. There’s a hazy memory of her suddenly running off as soon as the ambulance parked in the bay, which is strange, and then he realises she smells absurdly strongly of medical grade mint. “You threw up,” he realises, and pets her head clumsily. “You should’ve asked for some Zofran.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Cameron says. “When you’re better, we’re going to talk about this.” After a moment, she laces her hand with his. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

She says it so nakedly that Chase doesn’t have it in him to fight back about her being mad at him anymore. “Told you I’m fine,” he says drowsily, and then he falls dead asleep.

[thephantomcasebook]

Aemond wasn't Daeron in season 1, not even close🙄 Daeron was even mentioned by AEMOND in the script where Aemond was softened already. He was even more soft as a child but they cut several scenes. They turned him into a 'smart' character just so he would think he is better than his brother for his future betrayal.

Oh my God, you Aemond fangirls have got to stop perpetuating this self-aggrandizing myth that Show!Aemond is close to Book!Aemond and was always this way.

He's not.

Tween Aemond in the show, you could definitely make that argument, because, the book doesn't really get into detail about his character as a child, yeah?

But once you get to Ewan Mitchell's Aemond, that ain't Aemond, that's Daeron pretending to be Aemond. And don't get me wrong, Ewan Mitchell does the best of anyone playing that character, but that is far from being Aemond as he was written in the book.

Aemond is boisterous, brash, and everything is do or die. He doesn't think things through but his boldness and will to act puts him over the top every time. He is Aegon's enforcer, and he relishes the job of it. Aemond and Aegon are alike in their thinking and instincts, except that Aemond is bolder and more fearless than Aegon is because Aemond doesn't give a fuck about what other people think of him or what he does. He protects his family, but he's in it to win it, no matter what.

In the book Aegon and Aemond are a lot closer and are on the same page on most things.

Daeron is a analytical, hyper-intelligent, brooding figure, who is sullen and quiet. Daeron is the one that is very close to Alicent and who learns at the feet of Criston Cole. People forget, Daeron did not spend a ton of time in Oldtown in the book. He was there with Otto for 2-3 years max before Alicent and Criston recalled him to King's Landing for the next eight years after Aemond lost his eye. In that time Daeron is a squire but the book doesn't specify whose, but we can assume that it's Criston.

Other people as well as I have it on good authority that Spotchnik did not want Daeron in the show, period. He was too popular, too well developed from GRRM's earlier drafts - which have magically disappeared since HOTD was announced - and he was too heroic and noble. The excerpt of Aemond mentioning Daeron in 1x07's script is a draft, not the shooting script. It was something that was taken out by Spotchnik. GRRM fought for Daeron being included the entire time and they would not pull the trigger till Spotchnik got fired and then they raced to add him in the Team Green bloodline thing. Which is why he's right under Alicent's dial and has no markers of his own on that dial.

Script Drafts are not canon, they're ideas that were never realized. It didn't matter if they made Tween Aemond the softest boy on the planet, if its not on screen, it didn't happen. Same thing with the Daeron mention. For all you know they added that shit to make GRRM shut up and get off their back.

Show!Aemond is 1000% Daeron in Aemond cosplay, with the writers combining the two characters together with the plan of not adding Daeron into the show because he fucks with their socio-political bullshit they were pushing.

No one is telling you that you cannot like Show!Aemond and no one is saying that what Ewan Mitchell is doing is anything less than spectacular with the character. But you Aemond Wives need to let go of this delusion that Show!Aemond is anything like Book!Aemond, cause he's not.

Season 1 show!Aemond is just Daeron from the books with characters telling us - not showing us - that Aemond is like his book counterpart without any evidence to back it up.

I don't hate Aemond, he's in the top 3 of my favorite characters on the show behind Alicent and Criston. But don't get it twisted. He's just Daeron from the books that they had to fix - poorly - because Daeron is coming.

[ficdumper]

We don't talk about Lucifer

Description: There was a time where you and your brother were inseparable, but everything changed when you fell. Not only was it silently agreed to never talk about him again, but many started wondering whether you will meet the same fate

Type: one-shot, songfic

Tags: angst, open angsty ending

Reader info: GN, Lucifer's sibling, a seraphim

Warnings: slight gore, murder

Song: Mirabel's villain song by Lydia the bard (can be found on YouTube)

We don't talk about Lucifer, no, no

We don't talk about Lucifer

But

Heaven is perfect, any angel would say that. It was true, with it's fluffy clouds and bright skies

Heaven is a paradise, a sacred safe place. And it was true for you, until they cast out Lucifer.

At first your reaction was denial. You just couldn't accept the reality of the situation - your brother, the biggest dreamer you've ever known, was casted out for being different. So what if he made a mistake, aren't angels supposed to be forgiving?

Whenever you actually left your home, everyone either looked at you with pity or looked away, pretending they didn't see you.

You made him walk away

He left himself or so you say

But I've heard another take

Next came the fury. Your eyes lost the once bright spark, your heart grieving, full of anger. You couldn't understand, how was his act so bad they sent him to the fiery pits of Hell for the rest of eternity? It wasn't fair! Not to him, not to the now free willed humans, not to you. They dared to separate you from your brother and expected you to just accept it? Accept as they say vile things about him, about what a disgrace he was?

Accept as they whispered: will they be the same?

You hide in your storm and close off from the rain

But don't see the damage in your wake

Still failing to accept your reality even after decades, if not centuries, after what happened, you continued trying to talk to the highest angels you could find, hoping to ease their decision. But, to no avail.

At first, they tried to let you down politely, telling you that the past can't be changed, that it was God's will, that it was your brother's fault. The more you tried to say something, the more they disapproved, ignoring you like they did Lucifer and his dreams, whispering behind your back. Tired from your constant attempts, they stopped answering. You were warned to stop trying unless you want to make a mistake.

You didn't want to fall like him, did you?

From Lucifer you turn on me

You whisper as if I don't see

The fear, the dread of what I'll be

Slowly being broken down by others' ignorance, you started to lose whatever remained of your hope. No-one grieved your brother, no-one missed his bright eyes full of dreams. Instead, they avoided talking about him as if he was the plague, infecting anyone who stood beside him. They hated talking about him, but seemed to love calling you a curse like him, a disaster waiting to happen.

No-one was going to forgive him, those so called epitomes of mercy and forgiveness, so what's the point?

But we don't talk about Lucifer, no, no

Slowly but surely, you accepted that he was never coming back. You had a lot of time to think about everything that happened. And what did you realise? You realised that heaven is full of liars, that God wasn't merciful, that the angels didn't care about anyone even slightly different from them, including you.

For years you stayed silent, afraid of falling like him. But you started getting tired of them either walking all over you or acting as if you didn't exist. Anyone would get exhausted by this constant abuse, even if they would rather die than admit it. Still, you were an angel. You were supposed to represent kindness, peace, forgiveness.

But how could you ever forgive them for their neglect?

We don't talk about Lucifer

...

Time to bring this family down

Yeah I'm the villain in your fairy tale now

If someone told you even a century ago that one day you will be a murderer, you would've laughed in their face, saying that it wasn't a holy thing to do. But pain changes people.

And here you were now, years later, standing over a fellow seraphim's body. Your hands and outfit were covered in golden blood, guess the angels weren't as untouchable as you were told. Their once bright halo was seemed to burn your hands, but it was worth it.

The sand's run out

And there's just you to blame

How's it feel to stain your family name

The pain meant you won, no-one else will underestimate you again. They won't dare, those scared chockens. You won't let them dismiss you again.

They could have easily avoided this situation if it wasn't for their ignorance. Sure, you brought shame to heaven. Yes, you will now forever be a monster in their eyes. But you will finally be free from them. Even if it meant losing your grace. Even if it meant falling.

I'll reclaim all that I've lost

See you understand what your apathy cost

It's your end of days and I'll still hear you say

We don't talk about Lucifer, no, no

"Y/N Morningstar. For your blasphemous murder of a fellow angel, you are sentenced to become a fallen angel, bound to rot in hell for the rest of eternity"

You couldn't remember the last time an angel was cast out. Standing in the middle of the meeting room, looked at with disgust like usual, you couldn't help but feel a sick satisfaction. You can finally be free. Free from the haunting whispers, free from the hateful glares.

The chains binding your hands burned you, slowly draining your powers. The emptiness that replaced your once beautiful wings felt haunting, blood dripping from your back. Ever the optimist, you still found a sense of beauty in the emptiness. Losing something so connected to your past was a price to pay for a new beginning. One could even call it poetic.

Sera ordered to open the portal to hell. You looked around you one more time, trying to memorize this moment. The faces of your once colleagues, the looks mixed with pity and disgust, the silent questions about what happened to you.

In your last moment in heaven, just before being pushed into the portal, you couldn't help but say:

"Should have talked about Lucifer"

A/N: Hi! This is my first ever songfic ever so I'd be happy to hear your feedback. I have a habit of daydreaming about fandoms and songs at the same time and thought it might be interesting to combine them. I already have another idea what to write about one of the other Lydia the bard's songs, so I'll probably post something about it in the next few days. Hope you enjoyed the angst ;)

[just-lavish]

✐✎ Yandere! Samurai Jack x Gn! Reader

➳{Never Ending Love}➳

"They call me Jack, Samurai Jack."

《🌹↬Headcanons 🧠// Romantic 💋// Samurai Jack 💌// Violence 💘》

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷��︶ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡ ˚₊꒷˚︶ɞ₊˚︶︶꒷꒦˚⊹๑‧₊ ᘏ ︶꒷︶₊·⊹๑⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

No longer the suffering of loneliness staying in his travels far and wide since you always accompany him, you are the one that makes Samurai Jack feel comfortable and perfectly natural with his full trust in you. No matter what happens next, he never wants to abandon you.

When a wicked creature or a new twisted robot is able to capture you as a bait for the samurai to come and rescue you, Yandere! Samurai Jack will not rest for days and will never stop looking every single place for you. By the time the stoic hero eventually found you, he cold-bloodedly sliced the kidnapper into ribbons, rage and brutality taking over his mind. "How could you take [Name] away from me!?"

Always overprotecting you from anything in this dystopian future, especially from Aku. If that foul demon ever dares to lay a finger on you, Samurai Jack will definitely be merciless than he ever was before, and make sure that shape-shifting master of darkness does not have evil plans involving you anymore. "This fight is only between you and I, Aku!"

‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊ The Royal Samurai runs towards you and gently pulls your head into his beating chest, reminding you that his heart is beating for you. Samurai Jack really misses hugging you tightly while fully smelling your scent and patting your back for comfort.  "Don't worry..." Samurai Jack whispered in a gentle tone, "I am here now; you are safe."

Samurai Jack is extra clingy to you, and he many times asks politely: "May I carry you?" "I want to hold you, please?" "Can I keep you this close?" Before picking you up in bridal style, cuddle, rest his head in your lap, and put your head on his shoulder.

If someone else is foolish enough to get near you and is flirty with no manners, Samurai Jack immediately pulls you closer to him, and he sends a death glare at the one who dares bother you. When you are not looking, Samurai Jack quietly eliminates the foe in a blink of an eye and pretends nothing happened.

"Ooh! From the looks of it, I think they're definitely yer type, laddie." Samurai Jack obviously asks his friend, the Scotsman, for guidance on how to be boyfriend material. His best pal just laugh his ass off to see the legendary warrior messing up his flirty and corny lines because of you. At the same time, the Scotsman is still supportive and gives a thumbs up to Samurai Jack becoming a maniac by impressing you with the 'water beetle' and 'peacock dance' moves. You confusedly join with the silly samurai and laugh together.

꒰💌!🌸꒱ "Who confessed first?" To answer that lovely question, it is clear that Samurai Jack reveals his feelings to you. "I have fallen in love with you and will stay that way to the end of time. My love, are you able to see? Our relationship is intended to be."

Yandere! Samurai Jack does not need to stalk you since you likely prefer to be close to him and not wandering everywhere away from his sight. Even so, he does not let his guard down.

Samurai Jack thinks it is cute that you get jealous when some ladies approach him in an attempt to woo and compliment him. The Samurai happily tells those women that you are his significant other, and he will always remind you that no one can ever be your replacement.

"Not even death itself can stop me from protecting you." Samurai Jack does not let death take both of you apart. He cannot lose you. You are the one makes him still feel alive in the faraway future of Aku's. If you die, Samurai Jack will go insane and do anything to bring you back to life. He even also willing to go to the underworld in search of your soul!

As a friendly reminder that Samurai Jack's patience can grow thin, he lashes his anger at you once in a lifetime. This Japanese Prince felt in deep remorse and cannot forgive himself.

This Japanese man positively showers you with the 'princess treatment' every single day and enjoyably intertwined your fingers with his. What is more comforting in the night is the time when he hold you close to his chest for warm and you caress his head.

When Samurai Jack interlocks his fingers with yours and gently swing each other hands back and forth while walking or running together to the faraway lands, he will smile happily, and his cheeks will start warming up. The shy Samurai thought that he is holding the hand of a sweet angel from sacred heaven. (◞ꈍ∇ꈍ)◞ (っ≧ω≦)っ

Thereafter, Samurai Jack is touch-starved and patiently waiting for the perfect time and place to be in your warm embrace. Surely, he willingly obey each word you command him. You want him to untie his hairbun down to brush his long hair? Settled! You need to heal his scars and wounds while kissing every boo-boo you find at every inch in his muscular body? With pleasure 😏

You pointed out that he reminds you of a cat because of his eyes, his lips, and his silly acts sometimes. The samurai chuckles as he kisses your forehead and says: "You thought of me as your kitten? I am flattered."

The wandering samurai knew the gaze on each other's eyes with adoration had deeper meaning than words that left to be said. However, Samurai Jack and you cannot stand eye contact too long since both of you end up blushing so much and look away shyly.

In the alternate ending, Jack ultimately realizes that he belongs with all of his friends, including you wearing a crown like his, standing by his side to look upon the bright future ahead, and united to vanquish Aku once and for all time. Finally, you and Jack spend a life of endless bliss. And in years to come, the two of you will reminisce how both of you have brought to the story to an end...

What a wonderful feeling for the prince charming to experience a true love kiss with you! it feels like a sweet fairytale. Oh, he has lovely dreams of you are his spouse, returning to his right time and beloved home together, and living happily ever after.

≫─ "I cannot let you go because...without you by my side, I will not have my happy ending."

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡ ˚₊꒷˚︶ɞ₊˚︶︶꒷꒦˚⊹๑‧₊ ᘏ ︶꒷︶₊·⊹๑⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The Red Means I Love You - Madds Buckley

♡ --- "Cause my insides are red

And yours are too

And the red on my face

Is matching you

And goodness you're bleeding

What a wonderful feeling

You're down and you're pleading

My head is just reeling." --- ♡

[sweethoneyrose83]

Dialogue prompts inspired by Vampire: The Masquerade

1. Political Intrigue

"Do you truly believe the Prince holds power? We are puppets, each of us, tangled in strings far older than any of us care to admit."

"The Toreador smile as they paint the city in blood. Art, they call it. Madness is more fitting."

2. Supernatural Tension

"I can feel the pulse of the city… It's more alive than you or me."

"You think the shadows hide the truth? Trust me, it’s the light that blinds you."

3. Clan Rivalry

"A Ventrue thinks their gold can buy anything, but what happens when they realize their currency holds no value in the eyes of death?"

"The Tremere meddle with powers they barely comprehend. One day, their hubris will tear this world apart."

4. Personal Conflict

"How long has it been since you felt the warmth of a sunrise, or heard your own heartbeat? Or did you lose those memories when you sold your soul?"

"You don’t even remember what it feels like to be human anymore, do you?"

5. The Beast Within

"Every night, I fight it, and every night, it grows louder. One day, the Beast will win."

"The hunger is never sated. It’s a gnawing void, and I’m not sure how much longer I can pretend I control it."

6. Deception and Manipulation

"The truth is a lie we tell ourselves to sleep easier. Reality? That’s much harder to swallow."

"Trust me? In this city, trust is a knife waiting for your back."

7. Secrets and Knowledge

"There are things buried deep in this city’s history that not even the elders whisper about."

"Do you ever wonder why the Nosferatu stay underground? It's because they've seen what crawls beneath the surface."

8. Love and Tragedy

"I remember the night you turned. You were so full of hope. What happened to that hope?"

"Immortality has a way of warping love. What was once eternal passion is now an unending curse."

9. The Camarilla vs. The Anarchs

"The Camarilla chains you with promises of order, but at what cost? Freedom, or should I say, the illusion of it, is priceless."

"Anarchy isn't chaos; it's survival. And when the night comes, survival is all that matters."

10. A Sire's Wisdom (or Warning)

"This life, fledgling, is not what you think it is. Immortality is a lie we tell ourselves while we rot from the inside."

"One piece of advice before you go: Never trust an elder. They've survived centuries for a reason, and it's not because they play nice."

Dialogue Prompts

The Toreador's Temptation:

"You see art where others see ruin. What does that say about your soul, I wonder?"

The Ventrue's Ambition:

"Power is like blood. Once tasted, you'll crave it until the thirst consumes you."

The Nosferatu's Warning:

"The shadows know secrets even the dead have forgotten. Tread lightly, or they may speak to you."

The Tremere's Ritual:

"You think magic is about spells and words? No, it's about sacrifice—and you have much to offer."

The Brujah's Rage:

"I’ve fought for centuries, bled for causes that never mattered. What makes you think your revolution is any different?"

The Malkavian's Madness:

"Time is a spiral, and we're all just walking circles. How many times will you die tonight?"

The Gangrel's Wilderness:

"Cities are cages. We’re animals pretending to be civilized. I prefer the honesty of the hunt."

The Lasombra's Darkness:

"Light casts shadows, but shadows devour light. Do you truly know which side you're on?"

The Giovanni's Deal:

"Death is just another transaction. The trick is making sure you're on the right side of the bargain."

The Setite's Seduction:

"Your faith in gods and kings is misplaced. Let me show you a different kind of devotion."

Political Intrigue

The Prince's Gambit:

"Every Kindred has their price. Tell me, what’s yours?"

The Primogen's Powerplay:

"Your loyalty is an investment. Be sure you place it wisely, or someone will collect on it."

The Harpy's Gossip:

"Whispers build empires and topple kingdoms. Care to know what they’re saying about you?"

The Anarch's Challenge:

"Freedom isn't free. Are you willing to bleed for it, or are you just another puppet?"

Personal Reflection

The Kindred's Lament:

"Immortality isn't a gift; it's a curse wrapped in pretty lies. Do you regret it yet?"

The Beast's Hunger:

"You think you control the Beast, but it’s already taken more than you realize. What will it demand next?"

The Clanless' Struggle:

"Out here, you're nothing. No clan, no title, just prey waiting for the fangs. How do you survive?"

The Lover's Farewell:

"We could’ve had eternity, but even forever wasn't enough for us, was it?"

The New Embrace:

"You were mortal once. Does that memory still haunt you, or have you finally let it rot?"

The Sire's Lesson:

"I gave you immortality, but what you do with it? That is where the real test begins."

[casanovawrites]

rp sentence prompts from the society, season 1 — (part 2 of 2)

i sort of like losing track of time.

so, do you? have all you need?

i kind of think it’s actually kind of hopeful.

our parents are still alive. they’re just someplace else, and we have to figure out a way back to them.

there’s got to be a way to get back. doors work both ways.

i really feel like we’ve just been given some hope.

i miss my parents giving me a hard time.

what if there are wolves and bears in the woods?

i avoided you. i was caught up in being straight.

did you ever notice me before?

who died and left you in charge?

i told you, people are not fine. they might be quiet, but that’s not the same thing. they’re scared. and they’re angry.

i want to die. it’s okay. i won’t feel like this.

tell my parents i’m sorry.

i really thought i was gonna die.

you were always a terrible patient.

i’m stoic and tough.

last time you had a cold, you bitched so much you gave it to me.

who’s so angry that they’d try to kill people?

you guys left me in the dark forever.

i want someone else here. you’re creeping me out.

i am allowed to make a political statement. dissent isn’t a crime. 

coincidences happen.

how do you want to live? what about us?

there’s nothing in this place that i want.

you’re afraid of me. everyone’s always afraid of me.

does it make sense? or am i just doing something to do something?

can i sleep here?

you don’t look so impressed.

can we just, for a second, pretend i know what i’m doing?

what, you’re just done with her and onto me?

i thought i knew how i felt and what i wanted. but i didn’t. 

the idea of losing you… i didn’t think i could feel that way about anyone. 

i can’t stop thinking about you. so that’s what that was last night.

you look like shit, by the way.

i’m scared all the time.

i’ve done terrible things. 

this time is going to be different. you’re gonna be more careful.

since when are you superstitious? we can’t think like that right now. it’s a big world.

i am hopeful. but you haven’t seen what i’ve seen.

it’s weird that we never really knew each other in high school.

i’m the wrong person to fuck with, you know?

there aren’t a lot of people who would show up for me like that.

things are fine the way they are. why are you risking this now?

there’s a lot of big decisions i have to make. i don’t want people to think we’re making them together. i don’t want you to think we’re making them together. because they’re my decisions, and i have to make them alone.

just because you decided to show up doesn’t mean it’s a good time for me.

the world changed. it isn’t about what you want or what i want. 

i don’t trust myself to be with you the way i want to be with you.

who the fuck are you to decide what i’m good at?

sometimes i wonder if there’s another version of this world where we’re friends.

if i was home, i’d just get on a bus or a train and go. but there’s no way. there’s no way from here.

i just wanna die. i just wanted to be dead.

we had to forget everything we learned about what life owed us.

you’re right. i’m not in control.

what does it feel like to starve? it’s really slow and painful, isn’t it?

you would eat me? 

there’s not enough of us to eat. we’d buy ourselves maybe a month or two.

if we come back without an answer, people aren’t gonna wait around to starve. we’ll kill each other first for the food that’s there.

has anyone asked, ever, ‘are you okay with any of this?’

fuck off. i don’t need a nanny.

do people just come when you snap your fingers?

you don’t get to demand an audience with me. you’re lucky i showed up.

you’re half right about everything. you know that? and that’s worse than being wrong. that makes you dangerous.

i need power to get things done, but i hate it. and you will too.

i can decide what i think. but i can’t decide that i’m right.

we’re not gonna ask for power. we’re gonna take it.

are you a fucking hero? i don’t think so.

i never had any idea what i wanted to do.

maybe we’re being punished for what our parents did.

maybe we’re here, and there’s no there anymore.

it’s fucking terrifying. we’re just not saying the stuff out loud that we’re afraid of.

do you think we might actually be lucky?

what we have is built on trust, nothing else.

i’m willing to lose out every once in a while. it’s better than chaos.

what are you when you’re on your own, if you really think about it?

i’m sorry if i made you feel like i think less of you. 

you’re still warm, and i’m a little bit lonely. do you mind?

part of me just wishes we could stay out here in the woods. i don’t want so much noise.

no, fuck you. fuck you. i’m not afraid of you anymore.

i want to pull the strings a bit, that’s all.

it gets bad. but it’s not gonna get that bad.

i know what you’re thinking. ‘what am i doing, this isn’t me.’ but it is you. that’s how fast it happens.