#You do not know me nor do you know what happened to me and what I chose to talk about online

[chanelrolls]

Love & Deepspace Men reacting to you giving them head while they drive

warnings. mdni, nsfw, explicit content, sexual themes, blowjob, dick-sucking

pairings. sylus, zayne, rafayel, xavier, caleb (separate) x reader

notes. it's my first time to write a full-blown nsfw piece so please excuse me if it doesn't come as good. anyway, requests are very much open.

SYLUS

Sylus is focused, one hand on the wheel, the other resting against the gear shift—relaxed, poised, in control. Or at least, he was.

You lean in, lips ghosting over his thigh, barely a whisper of contact. At first, there’s no reaction—no sharp inhale, nor a startled twitch. Just the steady, unwavering presence of him, ever composed.

You press another kiss, this time firmer, lingering just a little longer against the fabric of his pants. His grip tightens. "You’re playing a dangerous game, kitten."

His lips curl into a slow, knowing smirk. His leg shifts slightly, as if to subtly press closer to your lips, but before you can take the invitation, his fingers suddenly catch your chin, tilting your face toward him.

He doesn’t look away from the road, but his grip is firm, thumb brushing against your lower lip with deliberate slowness. "If you’re going to test my patience," he murmurs, voice impossibly low, "at least be prepared for what happens when you lose."

"By all means, don't let me stop you," Sylus would purr, a wicked glint in his eyes as he watched you work on his shackles. "In fact, I insist you continue. Show me what that pretty mouth of yours can really do." He'd chuckle darkly, the sound rumbling through his chest.

Sylus would make no move to stop you, instead watching with a critical eye as if evaluating your performance. His breathing would remain steady, his heart rate barely increasing, a testament to his ironclad self-control. He was Sylus, after all. Nothing could ruffle his feathers, least of all a little roadside dalliance.

"Faster," he'd command, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Put your back into it, sweetheart. I know you can do better than that." His fingers would tighten in your hair, guiding your movements, pushing you to take him even deeper. "That's it, just like that."

He'd grip the steering wheel harder, his knuckles turning white as he fought the urge to surge forward, to take over, to claim his pleasure for himself.

And when he can't hold himself back anymore, he forces the tip to rub against your throat, and you wince in response, but he doesn't bugde, no, he keeps you there. "Keep going," He'd say, teasingly rubbing his tip against your throat, not caring about the way that you're already tearing up. "Don't you dare stop now. I want to see you finish what you started."

And then, suddenly—the car swerves. You barely register the motion before he pulls onto a quiet side road, the tires crunching against gravel as he slows to a stop.

Then, finally, he turns to you fully—one hand still on the wheel, the other trailing down your jaw, tracing the line of your throat before gripping the base of your neck. His touch is light, teasing, but there’s an unmistakable warning behind it.

"Congratulations," he murmurs, tilting your face up, "You got my attention."

ZAYNE

Zayne drives with precise, almost mechanical ease. One hand rests on the wheel, the other draped over the console between you.

Your fingers skim along his thigh first, light and teasing, tracing patterns against the fine material of his slacks. He doesn’t react. Instead, he exhales steadily, like someone who anticipated your next move before you even thought to make it.

Lips grazing over the fabric, the warmth of your breath seeping through, so close yet still not quite enough. Then, his fingers flex. "Do you think this is wise?"

A few beats pass in silence, and you almost think he’s going to ignore it completely, let it roll off his shoulders like he does with most things. But then, suddenly, his hand moves.

Not in warning. Not in restraint.

But to press you down. Fingers threading into your hair, keeping you close, firmly and deliberately, like he’s giving you a choice but already knows what you’ll pick.

"You're trying very hard to test me tonight," he murmurs, and now his voice is lower, rougher, something just a touch undone.

And when you finally took him into your mouth, he'd let out a low, sharp inhale through his teeth, his jaw clenching as he fought to maintain control. He'd say your name, voice strained, "we're in the middle of a..." He'd trail off, his words lost in a soft groan as you took him deeper.

Despite his initial surprise, Zayne would make no move to stop you, instead trying to focus on the road ahead. He was a pragmatic man, after all, and he knew the dangers of distracted driving. But damn if your sloppy mouth wasn't making it hard to concentrate.

"Careful," he'd warn, his voice a low rumble. "I don't want to cause an accident." But his words were undercut by the way he rolled his hips slightly, pushing himself deeper into your mouth.

Suddenly, he lets his grip loosen, fingers tracing the nape of your neck before slipping away entirely.

And then—just as quickly—he accelerates. The car surges forward, the sudden force pressing you back against your seat, "That's enough," the air shifting around you as he drives faster, sharper, more reckless than before.

He exhales slowly, smoothing a hand over his tie, regaining that signature poise—but when he finally speaks again, his voice carries that same unshakable authority as always. "Seatbelt on," A small pause, then, "You’ll need it."

RAFAYEL

He’s humming some tune under his breath, something slow. Then, your hand moves first, fingers gliding over the firm muscle of his thigh, innocently enough that he doesn’t react right away. But when your lips followed after, pressing into the fabric of his slacks, his hum falters.

Then stops entirely. For a moment, all you hear is the steady hum of the engine. The way his grip subtly tightens on the wheel. Then—

"You’re a real menace, y’know that?"

His voice is airy, light—like he’s amused, pretending to be unfazed. But you don’t miss the way his breath hitches when you press another kiss, this time dangerously close to the inside of his thigh.

He exhales sharply, tongue swiping over his bottom lip. "Go on," he muses, tilting his head slightly, glowing eyes flicking down at you, and dark with something indulgent. "See what happens, cutie."

You know exactly what will happen. Because Rafayel is all bark until he’s bitten. Until he’s whimpering, breathless, fingers trembling with the effort of keeping control he never really had in the first place.

And when you do press forward, when you start to eat him out, he lets out a sound—soft, bitten off, caught between a laugh and something much filthier.

Rafayel lets out a startled gasp as your lips wrapped around his sensitive cock, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. "H-hey, what do you think you're doing?" as if he didn't challenge you outright.

He tangles his fingers in your hair, not pushing you down, but not pulling you off either, torn between his desire and his stubborn pride. "I never said you could just... just do this, you know," His nose wrinkles in a mixture of annoyance and arousal. "Such a bold little thing, taking what you want without asking..."

But even as he spoke, Rafayel's body betrayed him, his cock twitching and throbbing against your tongue, growing harder by the second. He bites his lip, trying to stifle the moan that threatened to spill out while you swirled your tongue around the sensitive head, lapping up the bead of pre-cum that had already formed at the tip.

"Nngh... y-you're not going to distract me that easily," Rafayel insisted, even as his grip on your hair tightened, his fingers trembling slightly. "I'm not just going to let you... ah! ...just take control like this, without even asking me first!" He tried to sound indignant, all the while rocking his hips to match your movements.

"Y-you're... hah... you're not going to win this way," Rafayel panted, his face flushed and his eyes glazed over with lust. "I won't let you... just... just have your way with me like this..." But even as he spoke, his head fell back against the headrest, his eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure entirely consumed him.

XAVIER

The night stretches long ahead, the road open, the streetlights casting fleeting shadows across Xavier’s sharp profile. His hand rests on the wheel, fingers drumming idly, while the other is perched casually on the gear shift.

Leaning in, you press your lips against the inside of his thigh, soft and fleeting, just enough for him to feel it. Then, his whole body goes rigid.

His foot presses down a little too hard on the gas before he corrects, rolling his shoulders back like it was nothing, like you didn’t just do that.

A muscle in his jaw twitches. "Don’t start." His voice is firm, clipped—but there’s something beneath it, something unraveling at the edges.

You don’t listen. You never do. Another kiss, slower this time, your breath warm against denim.

His fingers tighten around the wheel. "I said—" He stops, inhaling sharply through his nose. A slow, controlled breath—like he’s trying to center himself.

But then he does something unexpected. He shifts in his seat, just slightly—just enough for his thigh to press closer against your lips.

Your lips curl. "Thought you said not to start," you murmur, letting the heat of your breath fan against the fabric of his jeans.

Xavier smiles to glance at you—a short, breathy huff coming out of his lips, almost like he hates that you caught him. "I also told myself I wouldn’t let you get to me."

He keeps driving. Still in control. Still composed. But you can feel it—the tension in his shoulders, the way his body is slowly but surely giving in. "...Keep going," he murmurs, almost absently, like he’s already resigned himself to the inevitable.

He would keep himself unnervingly still and eyes on the road while you lap up his girth, but barely seeing it. "When have you gotten good... at this?"

As Xavier would reach his peak, he'd let out a sharp, hissed intake of breath through clenched teeth, his body going rigid for a moment. He'd rasp, your name a little more than a breathless whisper.

Then, with a sudden, violent jerk of his hips, he'd bury himself deep in your throat, his thick, hot seed erupting forth in thick, heavy spurts.

Xavier's eyes would flutter shut, his head falling back against the headrest as he rode out the intense waves of his climax.

A low, guttural moan would rumble in his chest, a sound of pure, unadulterated pleasure that seemed to echo through the confines of the car. His fingers would tighten in your hair, holding you in place as he emptied himself into your eager mouth, ensuring you took every last drop of his essence

As the final, weak spurts dribbled out, Xavier would slump back in his seat, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath.

A sheen of sweat glistened on his brow, and a faint flush colored his usually pallid cheeks. He'd shoot you a heated look, his eyes half-lidded but intense as they raked over your face. "Swallow it."

CALEB

Caleb would react to a sudden blowjob while driving with a mix of intense arousal and possessive desire lurking beneath the surface.

His eyes would flash with a fierce, hungry light as he glanced down at you, grip tightening on the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white.

"Oh, you're brave, huh?," he'd growl, your name falling from his lips like a dark promise. "You're playing dirty, my love."

Despite his words, he made no move to stop you, and instead of grabbing your hair, his veiny hand finds your nape, holding you in place as you worked over his throbbing cock. "Silly girl, trying to distract me like this..."

Caleb's hips would start to rock, fucking into your hot mouth with a growing sense of urgency. "Fuck, baby, your mouth feels so good," he'd pant, his voice rough and strained with pleasure.

As his climax approached, Caleb's eyes would darken, a fierce, almost manic light burning in their depths. "You're mine, you're... mine." he'd rasp, his voice a dark, dangerous rumble. "Only mine. And I won't let anyone, not even you, take that away from me." He'd tighten his grip on your nape, a touch of pain mingling with the pleasure.

He always had a habit of continuously praising and showering you possessive nothings while reaching for his climax.

With a harsh, animalistic cry, Caleb would reach his peak, his hot seed spurting forth to fill your mouth. "Fuck, yes, take it all!" Even pushing himself deeper to the point you wouldn't be able to breathe anymore.

And after he cums? "I'm not done yet." He pulls over the side of the road, and gets on you. Literally.

[queenendless]

ÞŘỊPŁƏ ẄŒØ

A/n: As much as we all love current Jinwoo, every version of Jinwoo is precious. And SO!

All Jinwoos have romantic feelings for you but not for each other cause they're the same person.

Triple Sung Jinwoo x Fem!Adult!Reader

CW: MANWHA SPOILERS INSIDE! SPOILER ALERT: There will be a PT 2 to this one shot cause this got kinda long. So there's that.

BIG TIME What if AU. Angst, hurt/comfort, depression, chronic problems, sleeping anxiety.

NO PLAGARIZING, REPOSTING, TRANSLATING, USE OF MY FANFIC WORK IN AI STUFF ALLOWED. REBLOG, LIKE AND FOLLOW INSTEAD PLS N THNX.

You never imagined you'd become the light of your angel's life. You still have days when you think that it's all been one long dream and you'd wake up back in that grey lonely life you never want to go back to.

But no, waking up that afternoon in your shared spacious bedroom. Rolling in that King sized bed to detect his side had his scent lingering still. But empty. Meaning he hadn't returned from his guild work from yesterday.

The sound of the front door to your shared home opening got your heart racing with joy at the chance to see your dear Monarch again.

And yet, the ensuing situation that followed suit really did feel like walking into a dream. An unusual one at that, sure. But also quite intriguing.

“Neither a curse nor a status debuff, my ass. You'd think these new Monarch powers could undo this side effect?” The tallest Jinwoo grumbled under his breath, brushing back his hair in frustration, pacing back and forth in the living room.

“How are we supposed to be out in public now? Handle the guild? Seeing our folks? Our secret will be found out at this rate!” Post reawakened Jinwoo griped, pinning you in between him and pre reawakened Jinwoo like a sandwich, to your dopey smiling satisfaction.

“In any case, I'll be the one visiting the guild for those matters. Otherwise, you and I will tackle the dungeons ourselves, alone.”

“H-Hang on! Why should I be left behind?! I'm no male housewife!” Starter Jinwoo whined.

“Yeah, don't kid yourself, squirt.” Monarch Jinwoo ruffled his unruly mop of hair affectionately, his baby faced counterparts pouting and puffed up cheeks proving his point.

“Aw, please don't leave me alone.” You nuzzled his pink dusted face like a needy cat, that got him melting up.

“Uh – I – o – okay~” His bashful smile got you planting a big ol smooch on his lips. He couldn't stop smiling as he swooned over your lap.

Jinwoo #2 glared, a vein popping up on his head. “Hey, it's not fair he gets to hog our sweetheart all to himself all day while we have to work.”

“With no reawakening, he can't level up so he'd be putting himself at Death's door again like before. If even one of us dies, we'll all die and leave our family behind, including our beloved here. And they won't be defenseless.” King Jinwoo explained.

The sight of Beru appearing out of your Shadow got Jinwoo#1 trembling from fear instinctively at the imposing entity when Monarch Jinwoo stood between you two and his General.

“Should any harm come to these two, like getting distracted by your period dramas, you know what will happen, don't you?” The deadly gaze of his King spoke doom for the former Ant King.

Shadow Preservation will let him know the moment Beru fumbles.

“Yes, I do, my liege! I will not let you down! And if I fail, I will gladly accept my punishment! But please give me a chance to prove my usefulness to you all!” Beru weeped before his liege dismissed him, meshing into the shadow of —

“Jinwoo mochi.”

“ … Eh?” All three sweat dropped in sync.

The action of cupping OG Jinwoo's supple cheeks, kneading and pinching and rubbing your thumbs in circles on such pure smoothness had your eyes sparkle in wonder and your hums of content heard behind your smitten grin. The visual of pre Jinwoo's face going from pale to rosey red as his grey blue eyes had spirals of tipsy dazeness, incomprehensible sounds spilling out of his dopey smile.

“You are so fucking cute, I can't stand it!” Your playful growling as you indeed began chewing on his cheeks got his nervous laughs rumbling into your chest next, his heart in overdrive, matching beat for beat with yours.

The steamy blow of air through their noses was one warning signal that the other two Jinwoo were irked — envy molten auras in blue and purple another sign — that baby-faced them was getting your current attention.

“Don't you dare forget about me, beautiful~” Jinwoo the 2nd cockily purred in your ear, plopping behind you on the couch, nipping at your nape, his nose dotingly rubbing your cheek, keeping you struggling between focus on both bois.

“I'll engrave myself in your mind then~” The effortlessly hot deepness of King Jinwoo’s inflection had him gently grip your chin to raise your face to meet him over the couch in quite a devouring kiss.

“Hey, sharing is caring, you sneaky bastards!” Baby Jinwoo shrilled up. Breaking free just to save your deprived lungs, an all out argument between all three ensued, your light headed self slacking against the couch.

The cacophony of range these three voices could go filled in your now lively place.

And so, then began this unexpected arc in the story of you and Jinwoo times three.

Pre-reawakened Jinwoo.

While the other two would do their dungeon raids together, that meant you'd spend most of your time with him.

Stuck at home together meant you teaming up to manage it, whether that be folding laundry to even cook together. If you don't really cook, he's more than happy to teach you. Having his hands layer yours, pressed up against you from behind, is the best feeling. Course he'd melt in a puddle shortly after.

Taking walks together outdoors meant holding hands or intertwined arms as you spent hours chatting about anything, mesmerized in each other's eyes while admiring the flora and fauna of nature.

“Okay, I am the male wife.” He mumbled in surrender, slumping against you, both of you in your casual tees and shorts, binging your favorites together in the living room while sharing your snacks together one lazy day.

“He admits it!” You exclaimed dramatically, ruffling his already unruly shaggy mop to his giggling delight.

“I know I'm not like the other mes… but I will do my best to make you happy. I'll do anything for you. I love you with all my heart, saarang.”

You easily top him over, laying atop him, your bedroom eyes conjuring hearts in his grey blue irises. “Then I'll make sure you're reminded each and every day that you're just as well loved. You're all mine now, baby girl~”

His drawn out squeak was the only sign of him still alive from the embarrassment, slacking in your arms like a limp noodle.

He's the easiest to mess with, all out of love.

Post reawakened Jinwoo, still an E-rank.

You did most of your outings into the city with him. Usually he goes incognito, whether in caps and a face mask or keeping his hoodie on, hoping not to be spotted and mistaken for his S-rank self.

You both did the buying, groceries and window shopping. Your phone gallery was chock full of selfies with you and your bashful grinning hunter.

While Tank became his assigned Shadow in the meantime, he could serve as transport. But only when it was just you two around or unless it's an emergency. Besides, he still has his own speed skills. Hence, giving you piggyback rides before zipping away in a flash, leaving folk wandering nearby nearly falling over from the sudden strong gusts of winds he left in his wake. His cheeky grin looking back at you took your breath away.

Joining him in on his daily quest workouts nearly do you in, your physically ailing limits being the root cause. Your legs turn to jelly as you nearly collapse from fatigue but your dashing hunter lover makes sure to catch you in his arms, holding you tightly while riding on Tank for the trek back home.

While you can openly tease and mess with him, he's on even footing with you, even more so.

“It's a pain to be split in three and not knowing how long it'll last, so having you with me is a blessing. Now tell me, what will it take for you to make me the best Sung Jinwoo in your eyes? Come on, honey, let your angel Woo you over~”

That cheesy pun out of the blue sent you buckling over in bouts of laughter, nearly falling over but his arms enveloping you kept you standing within his grasp. “Wow. Can't believe that actually worked,” He murmured in astonishment, grinning confidently in response. “She has Sung her approval~!”

That got you cackling, clutching your aching tummy, as more puns came your way to leave you a breathless mess that went beyond his expectations, utterly convinced to be more silly from that point on, even after he hopefully becomes whole again.

And Shadow Monarch Jinwoo, the tenth S-rank hunter in Korea and the head of his own guild, is hands down the most possessive over you. The rare moments you get alone with him happen in his own private office when he takes you to work with him.

The selfie of him putting you in an explicit headlock rivaled every single photo you took with his reawakened past self. His vibrant violet eyes on his smug smirking face littered by your lipstick smooches, your blushing squished cheeks, those veins along that flexing bicep smothering your lip smeared shameless face.

Making a group chat with just the Jinwoos proved a bad call when the other two were driven up the wall with envy at their superior version laying claim to you when they weren't around. The stream of emojis from Jinwoo 1 merging with the countless threats from Jinwoo 2 made big boss Jin darkly chuckle in the entertaining response, the mirthful twinkle in his eyes rippling from spotting you red in the face like mush in his big leather desk chair.

Unwinding from the stress of his guild master duties and keeping face with his colleagues and family while also having to wait out however long this three in one problem will last. Taking rides together on Kaisel gave you both a much needed breath of fresh air. Updating you on pupil Jinwoo's progress leveling up although the Gates turn red whenever he joins in said gate all to challenge him. He assures you immensely that he ensures his other self’s safety while sharing the EXP.

“Sharing you with my other selves has been quite the test for my tolerance.” Tugging insistently on his tie, the taut muscle definition of his upper chest peaked out, his neck flexing those veins, flaring his collar out in the process. “However, I am resolved to remind them just who truly is in charge here.” Pinning you literally on top of his desk came just as quick as you did already feeling him brush up against your valley. “Including you~”

Chronic problems plagued your form. Daily migraines, tense knots in your neck, the works. Regardless of which Jinwoo does it, massages always come your way. Whether resting your head on your lap or laying down on the bed, you melted from their shared skill touch.

Of course not every day is sunshine and rainbows. With chronic issues also came depression. Of course, all three dudes come to an agreement on equally giving you space to unwind as well as teaming up to give you all their affection.

Jinwoo #1 gifts you single flowers that grew surrounding your home, placing them behind your ear after presenting you one each day. Home-cooked meals are a given at this point, keeping in mind your allergies and dietary restrictions should you have any. He helps prepare salt baths that you more than invite him to join you to keep your clingy self company. And he lends his hoodie for comfort on those moody grey days.

Jinwoo #2 gifts you during your shopping sprees together, purchasing plushies and apparel to even getting fried chicken that you make sure you have enough to share with all your bois at home. You and him game together when he comes home early from raiding. Although his fatigue relief skill kicked in, he still deflated in your embrace welcoming him back home in the foyer, nuzzling your adorable face like a needy feline himself. Plus, his rambunctious commentary sends you into a wheezing mess, handing him easy wins. The times you did dethrone him resulted in his stubborn self knowing he could do better, challenging you for another round.

Jinwoo #3 is the one most able to give you anything your heart desires. With such influence and connections on top of his limitless abilities as the reincarnated Monarch, he would make anything possible. But considering he was the busiest out of the three, all you really wanted was to spend more time together. He still gifted you the same items as his other selves, but he made sure to include a fancy dinner and a dance among the stars as an inviting bonus.

Sleep anxiety is also a struggle you face. Incidents from your dreary past late at night left their scars. So taking naps now and then throughout the day after sleeping in the morning was your norm.

Even now, comfortably sleeping through the night is difficult, anxiety making you uncomfortable on edge for the unpredictable and unknown.

One step, one night at a time, the secure embrace giving you reassuring squeezes in bed reminding you you weren't alone. Whichever Jinwoo it is, they all are perfect bedmates. Their cooing words became your ASMR.

“Ssh. There there. I'm right here. Listen to my breathing, my heart, my voice. You can rest easy now, sweetheart.”

Kissing your teary face and letting you rest on their cozy warm chests as they rubbed comforting circles along your back, the combined sensations slowly aided in your sleep, however long or short. For the moments you woke in the middle of the night,

So returning the favor only made sense.

All three Jinwoos suffered from nightmares. Mostly Jinwoo #1. Night terrors were his own sleep struggle throughout this story arc. Especially from dreams of the Double Dungeon. Breaking out in a cold sweat, tossing and turning, whimpering and weeping, before screaming out in awakening, heaving haphazardly, desperately reaching his hands out to you, clinging to you like the lifeline you are. Especially on nights when your other Jins’ are still out due to whatever reason.

Singing a lullaby song you heard from a show that really stuck with you helped a great deal in calming him down. Cradling him in your arms, brushing through those sweat matted bangs, your voice was the angel of music gracing his ears. It's too mesmerizing to ignore.

“You're okay. You're alright. I'll never ever leave your side. I will stay and I will fight with you~”

Unbeknownst to you two, Beru's shadow linked to both versions of his master, Jinwoo #3 swoons over your heavenly voice, smiling like a lovesick fool, Jinho silently hoping they finish work early so his big bro can get back to you, his one and only.

“Please don't leave me. Please stay, Y/n.” Your Jin baby's wish gets granted by your doting, utilizing the same exact methods they use to treat your night troubles.

Jinwoo 2 is less vocal when he wakes up from bad dreams. Yet you feel a sturdy heat envelope around you. His endearing gaze grew the more he stared at your peaceful face, his stare blurring from warm wetness, blinking them back before pecking your forehead. “You're my dream come true~” He whispers lovingly in your ear before cuddling up against your precious self, tears actually shed as you return the hug through your slumber, thoughts of you and only you lulling him into good old dream land.

Now Jinwoo 3 is something else. He usually sits up, lost in thought for a bit, before heading to the kitchen for a mug of water and maybe even preparing some food to keep him busy. And every time, he could feel you arising, finding him, and joining him all so he wouldn't be alone. He'd do the same for you. They all would, absolutely.

You can hear the aching vulnerability trembling with each breath he took as his towering frame draped over you, his shoulders shaking as his hands clawed at your back, your very existence grounding him in the here and now.

“Parts of me will never be the same, not after all I've done … yet you still choose me. How did I ever deserve you, huh?” His nose caresses yours, rocking with you side to side, as his submerging look sunk its hold upon your trembling soul. “Y/n, you truly are something else. My safe haven~”

While having three Jinwoos is indeed a handful, seeing every part of him that make up who he is reminds you of his empathy, sympathy, cleverness, tactfulness, and brilliance.

But you too hope that your three darlings become whole again soon.

And soon enough, at last, your shared prayers were finally heard.

The solution to this dilemma?

Well ...

What do you think~?

[st7rnioioss]

Could you do inexperienced reader au having to use her safe word for the first time🩷🩷

𓂅 ♥︎ INEXPERIENCED!READER x BSF!CHRIS

⋆ ˚ .ೃ ࿔ * pairing... inexperienced!reader x bsf!chris

𓂃 ֹ ᮫ in which... inexperienced!reader uses their safe word for the frist time!

warnings... smut, p in v, unprotected sex, use of safe word, overstimulation, swearing, pet names.

♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟ your heart was pounding in your chest and ears, drumming frantically and shielding the outside world. chris’s hands are gentle on you, but his pace isn’t—your face is mushed into the pillows, silencing the moans and whimpers you let out of pure pleasure, the cries of his name that repeatedly fall off your tongue muffled.

“shiiittt, look at that.. doin’ such a good job taking me like a goddamn champ,” he’s praising while leaning back a little, getting a clear view of your fluttering walls sucking him in, and though you suppose he’s right, you’re really doing you best to keep up and live up to being a champ.

but it’s hard—his pace is brutal, and you have no clue what number of orgasms your on, clenching the pillows into your fists with every harsh thrust of his hips, the head of his cock repeatedly hitting the sweet, mushy spot deep inside of you.

and in reality, it should be feeling good—really good, and it usually does. he knows your body like the back of his hand, but you’re exhausted this time, and neither his words nor touch seems to have an affect on your spent body anymore. “c-chris! i- i can’t..” you’re whining through the soft smacks of skin hitting skin, lifting your head from the pillows with weak arms.

he slid a hand down your spine, feeling the soft and warm skin beneath his palm, pressing down to arch your back just a little further, before your arms give out and you're back, face down into the pillow. “shh, bun.. i know you can do it, just- fuck, just hold on f’me.. being such a good girl..” his voice is low, leaning forward to let the words linger right by your ear, aiming for another orgasm when one arm sneaks around your front to toy with your clit.

but for some reason, the words don’t linger in your lower stomach like they normally do—it seems like whatever he does, your body just won’t, can’t, respond. “n-no.. it’s not- it’s not right, i-“ you’re crying out, fat tears starting to well in your eyes from pure overstimulation when your finally find enough strength to sit up, each jerk of his body, each prod of his tip against your sweet spot furthering the tears from spilling. one of your hands gently wraps around his wrist, attempting to remove his fingers from your bud.

chris doesn’t notice—and you don’t blame him. you know he doesn’t mean any harm by what he’s doing; he can’t even see your face. but what he does notice is the sob you let slip from your lips, almost making the room go quiet, because you can both tell it’s not from pleasure this one time.

chris slows his pace, listening for another sob, and when he hears one, he’s immediately stopping completely. the warm tears trickle down your cheeks, and you weakly try to speak up. “r-red.. please.” oh, chris’s poor heart is shattered into a million pieces the second the word registers in his head. the last thing he ever wants to do is make you cry, make you uncomfortable.

“jesus, baby.. m’so sorry, i-“ he pulls out, a tiny whine escaping the two of you at the feeling, his hands all over your body in an attempt to soothe you. you’re still crying, and you don’t even know why—your body is just overwhelmed. “m’sorry chris.. i just- i dunno what happened…” you sniffle, turning onto your back and wrapping your arms around him.

chris is immediately cuddling up close to you, peppering your tear-streaked face in lots of gentle, loving kisses, one hand placed on your back with the other running through your hair to brush some of the strands out of your face. “don’t apologize, please. you didn’t do anything wrong baby, i’m sorry i pushed you too far,” he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “i just.. got ahead of myself, i’m really sorry.”

you shook your head slowly, returning the kisses softly onto his cheek. “it’s okay.. can we just- just stay like this for a little bit longer?” you ask, meeting his eyes that are full of worry, but a ton of love. he nods, offering you a gentle smile that you reciprocate with an even sweeter one, before kissing his cheek. “yeah, that’s perfect. just.. let me clean you up first.”

more inexperienced!reader x bsf!chris here!

˚𝜗𝜚 notes... so apparently im really bad at aftercare. don't flame me thx

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❛❛ © ST7RNIOIOSS est. 2023 ❜❜

[namelessgakusei]

Meant to be yours!

Variant!Mark Grayson x reader

Warnings: suicide, mentions of violence, death, op hadn't watched a single episode of invincible and relied on fanfics, first fanfic written and posted

Notes: Brought to you by someone who's stalking the mark grayson x reader tag everyday. This man has me on a chokehold I swear. I heard Meant to be yours and this idea has been living in my head rent free. This is purely self indulgent.

"All is forgiven baby! C'mon get dressed, you're my date to the pep rally tonight!"

Variant!Mark who, after snapping from pressure of hero work, turned on Earth and started killing people. GDA? Guardians of the Globe? The resistance formed not long after his killing spree? All gone.

Variant!Mark who, all bloodied and smiling, bangs at the door of your room/the safe house you're hiding at. You may not have escaped on time or had joined the resistance, but it's okay baby! He forgives you! Just come out!

Variant!Mark who, despite completely going off the rails, genuinely loves you. You were he only one keeping him sane ever since shit went down during his time as Invincible. You were there when Cecil's missions got too hard, when his dad turned on Earth, when being Invincible is starting to become more like a burden. You're the only one worth keeping alive in Earth, babe! Please open the door!

Variant!Mark who, starts begging for you to let him in. He won't hurt you, don't be scared! He would never! He'd rather skin himself alive than make you cry! Is it because of the blood? He'll clean up! Was the violence too much for you? He never meant for you to know about his outburst! Stupid Cecil for broadcasting everything and sent out warnings to everyone! The old man had it coming when he ripped his head off. Everything just became too much and he's so, so sick of it! He'll do anything, just please don't shut him out! :(

Variant!Mark who can easily pry the door open but he respects your decisions! You'll come around in time! This is just one of your silly fights right? You promised that you'll still love him throughout everything! You're meant to be together, he knows that! You know that! You're all that he needs and he's all that you need!

Variant!Mark who starts to get antsy at your lack of response. He's begging here, can't you see? He's starting to get worried, baby. Don't make him come inside! Despite his loose screws, he doesn't want to push your boundaries!

Variant!Mark who breaks open your door, apologizing with a bowed head and pouty lips, who looks like a kicked puppy than a bloody murderer. He's really sorry, but he's getting worried! What if something happened to you? What if those rats that he let live out of a whim came to get you? Don't be mad at him, he'll fix your door later! He just wants to know if you're okay, and maybe get some hugs and kisses?

Variant!Mark whose expression drops from bashful to horror at what he saw. Who drops to his knees upon seeing your hanged corpse. There is no sign of intruders nor resistance, did you do this yourself? No! Why?! No!

Variant!Mark who wastes no time getting your body off the ropes, desperately looking for a pulse and feeling like his insides were put in a grinder when he feels nothing but your cold body.

Variant!Mark who broke down as he cradles your dead body. His breath erratic as he clings to you like a lifeline. No! This wasn't supposed to happen! You were going on a date with him this weekend, right? This isn't happening! You're... You're just... Please don't leave him alone... You were all he could trust! He can't do this alone! He needs you!

Variant!Mark who is completely out of control the moment he understood that he was truly alone. Earth burned under his control, humanity is nearly wiped out saved for those fools who kept trying to take him down. Everything just felt, numb. Even when he kill, destroy, cry, he returns empty. What's the point of all of this?

Variant!Mark who was deep into his grief that he seriously considered following you, got offered to go to the Mainstream!Universe in exchange for his help with its destruction.

Variant!Mark who finally had a glimmer of hope when he realized that he can have you again! All he has to do is follow some orders and you two can be together again! Wait for him babe, he's on his way!

Variant!Mark who, after finishing his location, zoomed towards your house. Clever one, you evacuated already! Don't worry, he knows you, he'll find you again! And that he did when he stood at the other end of the door, getting deja vu at the situation.

Variant!Mark who doesn't let what happened back then repeat itself. Casually slapping the door open, he trapped you in his arms. He apologizes for opening the door like that and scaring you! He's just too excited! You're here again! You two can be together again!

Variant!Mark who doesn't understand why you're struggling against him and screaming that you aren't the one he's thinking you are to be. What do you mean you're not you? Silly, did you hit your head? What are you talking about? Of course you're you! You're his lover! His baby!

Variant!Mark who's never going to let you be alone again. Kidnapping you back to his home dimension or settling in another place is fine, as long as he's with you! He's still shaken from the stunt you did back home, so don't blame him for being handsy for at least a few years!

Variant!Mark who really, really loves you.

[loving-barnes]

LOGAN HOWLETT - SECRET LOVE

A/N: Well, finally finished this piece. Are you excited? Another Logan one-shot? What? Yeah, I tried. It's not good but at least I put out something. Enjoy.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader

Warning: some smut at the beginning, angst and fluff

Please, do not read if you are under 18. This story has sexual scenes.

Words: 3800+

Important note: HughJackman!Wolverine - always!

FULL MASTERLIST | LOGAN HOWLETT MASTERLIST

LOGAN HOWLETT - SECRET LOVE

Logan’s hand pressed against Y/N’s mouth before she could moan loudly. He was buried deep inside her when he heard Hank and Scott walk through the hallway, talking. They didn’t need to know what was happening behind his closed doors. It was too soon. They were not ready to let them into their secret relationship.

His eyes locked with her, grinning. “Careful, princess. We don’t want them to know.” He was a wicked man. He thrust his hips hard, making her huff into his palm. “Good girl,” Logan grinned at her. “Such a good fucking girl. Taking me so well while people walk behind the door.” 

This relationship had been going on for months, and no one knew. Y/N ensured neither Jean nor Charles could enter their minds and snoop around. Thank god her ability was all about protection. This was still new and exciting, and they wanted to keep it a secret until they were ready to tell everyone. Both needed to know if this thing would work out.

It started one evening. They sat in the kitchen, talked about shit and laughed while drinking beers. As time passed, they moved chairs and got closer to each other. Shortly, they were kissing, exploring their bodies and admitting their hidden feelings without the L word. 

That was months ago. Logan and Y/N managed to hide it well.

Logan let go of her mouth once he knew no one would hear her. People were gone. He grabbed both of her hands and forced them above her head, holding them firmly as he kept fucking her. Her legs were wrapped around his waist. “Fuck, sweetheart, your pussy is so good,” he grunted. “You gonna come for me?” 

“Yes,” she mewled. 

He kept talking to her, praising her. One of his hands sneaked between their bodies. He found her clit, circling it to bring her closer to her peak. Logan’s mouth was hanging open, breathing hard. They both reached their climaxes, one after the other. 

When her legs let him go, he rolled right next to her, panting. “Fuck,” he cursed. 

Y/N pulled herself closer to his side, resting a hand on his hairy chest. Her fingers brushed through them. Body hair was normal and in Logan’s case, it made him hot. Bus she enjoyed the feeling of his thumping heard under that adamantium skeleton. “The thrill of being caught made it more intense,” she admitted. 

Logan pressed a kiss to her forehead and laughed. “Ah, I knew that was it. Naughty girl. Do you like that shit? Being caught?” he teased. 

“It’s… thrilling,” she admitted, biting her lower lip. “The dirty talk is a bit better, though. When you talk with that mouth of yours, it gets me going.”

He leaned closer, his lips pressing against her in a messy kiss. “My dirty girl.” 

Y/N hummed. A smile remained on her face. “Tomorrow, my room?” she asked. “Will you be waiting there when I come back from Boston?”

His eyes lost the spark. Logan sighed. She had to leave on a mission with her fellow X-men. Charles picked the three people who would fly to Boston to bring two mutant children into the school. Of course, Logan hated that he wasn’t among the chosen ones. He felt the need to be there, to protect his girlfriend. 

So he huffed. “I don’t like it when I’m not on a mission with you,” he said. “I know, I know, you are going with Storm and Scott. Yes, you are only bringing two kids to the school, who are in danger. And, fuck yes, you are a strong mutant. But, baby, I can’t help the feeling like I should go with ya.” 

“You always say that when we are not paired together,” she giggled. 

“No,” he lied. One look from her and he nodded. “Fine, yes. However, my gut is saying something to me this time. Like I should go with you.”

Y/N pushed her body up to have a better look at him. Her index finger brushed over his nose. “Logan, I’m gonna be okay,” she smiled. “If something goes to shit, I’ll protect both Scott and Storm. And, I can heal. I’m practically invincible. So stop worrying,” she giggled again and kissed the top of his nose. 

Her mutation was all about protecting others by creating forefields and protecting herself with immediate healing. So, yes, he shouldn’t worry about her. Y/N could heal just like him. But in her case, it was more magical. Little light would appear every time a wound needed to be closed.

And yet he felt fear crawling up his back. 

Her eyes sparkled as she kept looking at him. Y/N wanted to tell Logan how she felt. She had the L-word on the tip of her tongue. She had it there for days. She feared it would scare him off if she said it now. Maybe it was still too soon. Little did she know Logan felt the same. 

“What if we spend the weekend away?” His brows wiggled. “You’ll say you want to spend the weekend away and I don’t say shit because they know how I act when I’m grumpy.” 

Y/N glared at him, then laughed. “Privileged man.” The irony could be smelt in the air. It made him laugh. “To answer your question, that sounds nice. How about a weekend somewhere in the woods? A nice cabin, fresh air and just the two of us. And, you know we could be as loud as we can?” 

“Promising, promising,” he rolled over her, pressing his lips against hers in a passionate kiss. “We’ll plan it once you are back from Boston. Your room.” 

“Deal.”

Early in the morning, Y/N got up before the whole school started to prepare for another day. She pressed a kiss to his forehead, fingers lightly brushing his hair. One more look, a smile and then she was gone.

They didn’t need anyone seeing her sneaking out of his room. This way it was a lot of fun. The truth was, there was this longing inside her. Y/N wanted to tell him how much she loved him, and how she wanted to share this relationship with the world. It was all fun and games, yes. There was this hidden desire to take the next step forward.

Another thought popped into her head. What if he wasn’t ready? What if this was not as serious for him as for her? No, that wasn’t it… Or?

With a sigh, she returned to her room and prepared for Boston. 

. . . 

Logan was on edge the whole day. He checked the time every five minutes, wishing the jet was back. He knew it was a simple rescue mission. Charles sent Y/N there to protect the team and the children if something went wrong. Where was this worry coming from? Or was this the excitement he felt towards spending more time with Y/N? What the hell was wrong with him? 

He knew he had to tell her how he felt. Maybe that’s why he was restless. He needed to confess his feelings. But would she want him? Fuck. He was overthinking their relationship. He wasn’t confident she felt the same way he did.

“You okay?” Jean's voice brought him out of his deep thoughts. 

He looked into her eyes, frowning. Then the muscles in his face loosened. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just hoping the mission is going well.” 

She smiled. “Relax. They are bringing back two children who need a safe place to grow and learn. They should be back soon.” 

Logan tried to be patient. He occupied himself with training in the danger room and planning one history lesson for the senior year. The students knew he was not his usual self. They remain silent and focused rather than get on his nerves. 

In the late afternoon, he walked through the school hallways, looking for something to distract him. Thank fucking god Charles called the rest of the X-men into his office. Even to the Professor’s surprise, Logan was the first one there.

“Ah, what a lovely change. I’m glad to see you here so fast, Logan,” Charles smiled at him. 

“Well, I happened to be close,” he said. He sat by the window where usually Y/N would stand with Rogue or occasionally next to him. 

When the rest of the X-men arrived, Charles started a discussion. “I want to throw a Christmas party for the students,” he said with a smile. “The last few years were intimate on boxing day. This year, I want a full extravaganza for them. I am talking about music, food, drinks and decorations.” 

“That’s amazing,” Rogue clapped her hands excitedly. “Oh my god, Y/N and I will take care of the decorations. I’ll talk to her about it once she arrives.” 

“That’s a great idea,” Jean smiled. “The students will love it, and it will be a change for us,” she smiled at the bald man. “If things go well, we can start a new holiday tradition.” 

“Will there be booze?” was Logan’s question. It sounded like a sigh. 

“Adults can have a beer or champagne,” said Charles. 

“Thank fucking god,” Logan praised. He wished for something stronger, but this was better than nothing. It was a small miracle. At least something that would help him get through the festivity. Beer. Well, beer and Y/N.

Charles opened his mouth to continue. No sound came out of it. His head snapped up as if he was listening and waiting for something to happen. He gasped, eyes wide. Fear appeared in his irises. Jean was immediately on her feet, running out of the office. 

“What’s going on?” Rogue voiced the question. 

That’s when the sound of the Black Bird echoed in the air. Hank now understood his presence was needed elsewhere. Logan and Rogue’s eyes met. 

“Professor,” Logan said his name firmly. He needed to get the man’s attention. “Tell us what the hell is going on. You look as if someone showed you a dead body for the first time.” Instantly, he wanted to choke on those words. Logan could sense the answer. Something terrible happened. Logan’s heartbeat fastened. The unsettling feeling crept over his body. Oh, he knew. His gut was telling him the whole time. 

A second later, Logan ran out of the office. “Logan, wait!” Rogue called after him, running as well.

When they arrived at the underground hangar, the engines of the Black Bird turned off. Jean and Hank were prepared for anything. The redhead knew what was inside the jet. 

“Jean!” Logan called her name. This was his way of wanting answers. “Tell me what the fuck is going on!”

When the rear door opened, Scott was the first to come out. His suit was torn in many places, wounds bleeding and his face bruised. Jean gasped when she saw him. It wasn’t a pretty look. “Oh my god,” she ran to him. 

“It… It was all a trick,” he said through gritted teeth. He was in a lot of pain. 

“What do you mean?” Hank asked. 

“Where’s Y/N?” Logan demanded. 

Rogue ran inside the jet. She needed to see both Storm and Y/N. 

“Scott,” Jean whispered his name, pressing a hand to his bruised cheek. She read his mind. All those horrors were now swirling inside her brain. “Oh, baby. You should have called for help.” 

“Y/N, she…” he couldn’t continue. 

That was Logan’s cue. He ran inside the jet with Hank. And there was Storm, who was on the floor with a bloody nose. Rogue was by her side, talking to the woman. Next to them, on a foldaway was Y/N’s lifeless body. 

Hank got to her first. He pressed his one blue finger on her neck. There were five seconds of silence before he shouted, “She’s alive!” 

Even Storm exhaled the breath she held. “I thought we lost her. I thought we lost her,” she repeated. “She saved us,” she mumbled. “There were so many of them.” 

“Who?” Rogue asked gently. 

“Mutant hunters,” she replied. “They used mutant children to lure us in.” Tears started to fall down her cheeks. A painful sob escaped her lips. She curled to Rogue’s side, crying. 

Logan lurched to Y/N’s body. His big hands pressed against her cheeks, stroking them. He hated this, hated seeing her unconscious. “Come on, darlin’, come back to me,” he pleaded silently. He took her into his arms bridal-style and carried her out of the jet. 

Rogue helped Storm to her feet.  Hank followed and they all exited the get. “Take her to the lab,” Hank shouted at Logan. 

Logan did as told. He brought Y/N’s body to the lab and put her on a bed. Scott was sitting on a chair beside a desk while Jean was already by the bed, hooking Y/N to a heart monitor. 

Rogue brought Storm in. She helped her onto the second bed and fetched a glass of water. The last one who arrived was Charles. He was distressed, horrified by what happened. He could read Scott and Storm’s thoughts. He saw what happened in Boston. Charles blamed himself for what happened. He should have known.

“No,” Jean turned to him. “Professor, you didn’t know,” she glared at the man. “They faked it. No one could see it coming. They had innocent mutant kids work for them.” 

“I could,” he sighed. “I should have known better, look into everyone’s minds. But I didn’t. It’s my fault Y/N is fighting for her life and Storm with Scott got injured.” 

Logan wanted to agree. He wanted to scream at him and blame the man for what happened. He kept his mouth shut and bit his tongue. Y/N wouldn’t want him to say words like that.

Jean opened the top of Y/N’s suit. “Shit,” she sighed. There were two bullet wounds - one on her right shoulder and another where her liver was. “She’s not healing.” 

Logan’s face lost all colour. “What do you mean she’s not healing? She should be!” Without thinking, he stroked her hair, leaning above her unconscious body. “Come on, darlin’. Don’t do this to me,” he pleaded. “We have things planned. You are not getting away from this.”

“Logan,” Rogue grabbed his shoulder, trying to pull him away from her. “Let them work, please.”

“No,” he growled. “I’m not leaving her. I’m staying right here with her, Rogue. I can’t let her go. I should have been with her when this happened.”

She sighed. Her touch on his shoulder tightened. “I get that she’s our friend. But Jean and Hank need to help her now. They know what they are doing. Let them work.”

Beast drew Y/N’s blood into three vials as Jean checked her wounds. Neither of them noticed her eyes open, blinking rapidly. 

She glanced from right to left, barely recognising anyone at this point. It was all mushed together, voices echo-y. The light was bright and painful. “L-Logan?” she whispered at first. When no one responded, she tried again. “Logan?” her voice was weak and raspy. 

This time everyone heard. Logan was the first one to appear above her head. All the tension that was inside him left with one loud exhale. “Darlin’,” he smiled. Logan’s fingers brushed her messy hair. “I’m here. I’m right here, baby. I’m not leavin’.”

Jean, Hank and Rogue looked at each other, noticing the words Logan used. 

Y/N’s hand tried to reach for him. He was so close yet far, and she couldn't touch him however she wished. “I…” she tried to speak. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” Logan said, grabbing her hand into his big ones. “Jean and Hank will help you. You need to be strong, okay darlin’?”

A whine left her lips. She was frustrated. She couldn’t talk without energy. There was something she needed to say to him. “Logan,” Y/N huffed his name. “I… Logan, I…” Her eyes closed and opened a second later. She was losing consciousness. “I love-” she tried one more time before she could finish that important message. 

“Y/N!” he shouted her name. 

Hank grabbed Logan by his shoulders. “Give us space, Logan,” he said strictly. Hank wasn’t messing around. “We need to help her.”

“I,” he panicked. “I need to be here with her,” he defended. “Hank, you have to…” He was panicking.

The Beast somehow managed to push him to the main door. “Wait outside, Logan. Jean and I will help her. Just stay here!” With one last push, he made him stand in the hallway and the door closed to Logan’s face. 

That was it. He was there alone, locked outside to wait. And it was painful. His soul was shaking, fearing that the love of his life would die. Fuck, ‘love of his life’. At least now, he was sure his feelings for her were strong and true. Y/N was the love of his life. He only hoped he’d get to tell her those three beautiful words. All she needed to do was survive. 

Logan… I… I love- He heard her voice echo in his mind. Damn, she tried to confess. She wanted to tell him first. He punched the nearest wall, making a dent in it. 

Logan didn’t know how much time had passed. He sat on the cold hard floor, head resting on his arms. He went through a lot in his life - wars, fights, near-death moments, and yet this one was the scariest of them all. 

When the door finally opened, he didn’t register it. It was when Jean placed a hand on his shoulder, crouching next to him. “Hey,” she said softly. His head snapped up, eyes wide. She didn’t let him talk. “Y/N’s doing well. She’s asleep. But…”

He raised a brow. “But what?” 

Jean sighed. “She’s not healing, Logan. We ran some tests and discovered the bullets were tainted with a poison that wouldn’t allow her mutation to heal her. Now, it’s a waiting game. Hank is already working on a serum which will take time to make. In the meantime, we hope her body will flush the poison out of her system.” 

“Fuck, fuck!” he cursed. “I had a feeling. I knew I should have come with them. And I wasn’t there, Jean. I wasn’t there to fucking protect her. And now, we don’t know what’s gonna happen,” he snarled. He got up, fixing his jeans. 

“There’s nothing you can do now, Logan,” she said. That was the truth. “You can see her if you’d like. I know she means a lot to you.” There was a genuine smile on her face. 

Jean knew. With Y/N unconscious, she couldn’t protect her and Logan’s minds from Charles and Jean. But then again, he wasn’t very subtle about his feelings. All those nice nicknames he said also could have been a hint. 

Logan patted Jean’s shoulder as thanks and walked inside the lab. One side was all machines and computers. The other had a few beds. His eyes found Y/N resting closest to the door. His legs hesitantly moved forward, approaching her bed.  

She was like a sleeping beauty, even with her messy, tangled hair. When he saw her chest rise, he knew she was alive. He could hear her heartbeat. The sound made him relax. 

His finger brushed her cheek, feeling its warmness. “Oh, baby,” he sighed. “Wake up for me,” he pleaded. 

His eyes captured every detail of her face. The imperfections she pointed out were perfect. They made her more beautiful. He longed to see her gorgeous eyes, that smile that would brighten his day. “Come on,” he whispered. “I need to tell you something, gorgeous. You need to be up for this.”

Nothing. She remained unconscious for several more hours. 

Logan fell asleep by her side. His hand holding her, not letting go. He wanted to be, no, needed to be there when she came back to him. 

“Wakey-wakey,” he heard a soft murmur of a voice he knew. Fingers lightly brushed through his hair. He growled tiredly, frowning that someone was waking him up. “Logan,” he heard his name. It sounded like a gentle prayer. 

His eyes opened, only to be met with the gorgeous ones he loved. “Darlin’,” he gasped when he realised Y/N was awake, smiling at him. 

Logan didn’t hesitate. He pushed himself up and pressed his lips again her dry ones. He made a mental note to bring her water first thing after greetings. 

“You are up,” he exhaled deeply. “Fuck, I was so worried.” 

Her lower lip quivered. “You won’t get rid of me that easily,” she whispered. The fatigue was still present on her face. 

He kissed the top of her hand. “I’m gonna get you some water. I’ll be right here.” 

Y/N didn’t have much time to argue before he left her side. He retreated with a plastic cup. Logan helped her take a sip. “Good,” he smiled at her. 

“I’m sorry I scared you,” she said. 

“No, no, it’s okay. You are okay, back in the mansion,” he said. “You are back here, with us, with me. But next time, I am coming with you, no ifs, and, or buts.” 

She didn’t argue with him. That would come later. Now, she just nodded, accepting his words. Her eyes locked on his. All she could see was his fear and devotion. Then there was something more. Something she kept hidden inside her. 

“I love you,” they said at the same time. 

Her eyes filled with tears. “Yeah? You love me?” she had to ask. 

“With my whole fucking being, princess. I love you, Y/N,” said Logan. His lips found the top of her hand again. 

She gave him a tired smile. ”I fucking love you, too,” and she chuckled. 

“Okay, lovebirds.” The voice belonged to Scott. 

Logan turned his head, finding Jean and Scott in the lab, watching them. While Scott had a teasing grin, Jean’s smile was more relaxed and honest. He frowned at them. “You are ruining our moment.” 

“Sorry,” Jean said. “Wanted to check on you. As we can see, you are both doing well.” 

Y/N raised a hand into the air, showing her a thumbs up. “Tired as hell but alive.” 

“Hank is finishing the antidote,” Jean added. “He will administer it today and you should become your old self in no time.” 

“Thanks, Jean,” Y/N nodded her head. 

Logan looked back down on his girl, his fingers brushing against her cheek. He waited until they were alone again. “Can’t wait to have you for me as soon as possible.”

She rolled her eyes. “So you can take care of me and pamper me after my near-death experience?” 

“Of course,” he nodded. “I will show you how much I love you.”

“Shut up and kiss me, Logan,” she demanded tiredly. 

He laughed. “Yes, ma’am.” He leaned closer, lips connecting with her in a deep kiss. It was a kiss that spoke volumes, that showed their hidden emotions. It was nothing but love - eternal, unconditional love. 

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Valar Dohaeris (Daemon Targaryen x Reader) 

Warnings: Mature language. Sexual thoughts. Witch reader doing spooky, witch things.

A/N: And it’s wrapped up! Huge thanks to @just-some-random-blogger and @aias-fxtns for sticking with me and cheering me on to finish this. For anyone new, you can read the first part here!

THERE WAS A prickling sensation on the back of your neck, as if someone was watching you. It had been a constant sensation since a couple of days ago, one that you couldn’t shake even when alone in your quarters. 

You had looked into the flames to know who it was, but the Lord of Light kept the mystery concealed from you. The only comfort you had was that the person couldn’t have ill intent. When such things had happened to you in the past, you were always warned of the imminent danger. Hence, if there was no warning, there was no danger. 

You continued with your days as normal. As a worshiper of the Red God, you had never slept much, forced to keep vigil over the precious light you were afforded when the night fell. The stalking didn’t mean any changes in your routine, beyond mild annoyance at your lack of privacy.

Despite being powerful enough to feel the presence chasing you around, and strong enough to vanish it too with a few well-placed flames or complaints to the King, you found yourself hesitating. What if the person was tailing you because they were curious about your god? With your abysmal failure at converting anyone yet, you felt like you couldn’t turn them away.

Much to your dismay, the moon in King Viserys’ court had taught you one thing about yourself: You were terrible at preaching and convincing people. While your display of magic interested the King and his heir, their curiosity seemed purely centered in how it related to their Valyrian practices. Any muttered enchantment in High Valyrian was to them an example their gods were lending you power, and not R'hllor. No matter how many times you told them you used it because you were essoii, they refused to believe it. 

Pondering over your troubles as you partook in some recreational cursing, involving a live leech that you had fed Hightower blood, you were so focused, you didn't hear the door to your workroom open. Nor did you felt anything abnormal, recognizing the presence that followed you everywhere. You simply continued building your small pyre, feeling like these things required a more personal touch than just magicking it into existence. 

Besides, King Viserys had been explicit. You were not allowed bonfires inside, no matter how small you made them. 

“What in the Seven Hells are you doing?” The presence asked, sounding slightly amused. You turned, eager to meet your stalker. He was a fairly muscled man, though not overly so, with the built of a warrior. His hair was the silver color you had come to associate with Targaryens, a trait much rarer here than in your natal kingdom. There was a sword on his belt. 

His face, twisted into a mischievous smile, seemed oddly familiar. You had seen him before, but you did not know where. 

“Praying.” You answered, simply. The leech caught in your grasp squirmed, and you studied it with a detached expression. Should you skewer it and cause the man terrible stomach pains? Or boil it to give him a fever? You weren’t intending to kill, only to severely maim, so throwing it into the pyre was out of the question. 

“By holding a leech?” The man pressed closer, invading your personal space. You gave him a slow, bloodthirsty smile. Less he became too familiar. 

“He represents one of my enemies.” 

The man’s expression turned colder. He grabbed a lock of your hair, idly twirling it between his fingers in what was a clear attempt at intimidating you. 

“And what enemies does a pretty thing like you have? Shouldn’t you be whispering into the King’s ears? Warming his bed?”  

Ah, you thought, finally realizing who might this be and why he had been stalking you. Daemon Targaryen. Viserys’ fiercest protector. The Rogue Prince himself, of whom you had heard so much about. 

“I do not bed your brother, no.” You carefully placed a metal stake in the pyre, settling for skewering the leech. “And to answer your question, there are some ardent believers in the false idols in high positions here. I am simply ridding the realm of them.” 

“I do not bed your brother, my prince.” He corrected, his smile getting more vicious. You knew he understood exactly whom you were referring to. Despite your shared dislike for Otto Hightower, you did not like his tone. 

“Fire burns us all.” You impaled the leech, watching it squirm in the flames. “Even princes.” 

“Dragons do not burn.” Daemon said, with a stubborn tilt of his mouth. 

“Oh, but you do.” You smirked. “Or can you do this?” You reached into the flames, recovering the metal rod you had used to kill the leech. Your hand didn’t blister. Fire was not dangerous to you, your control over it too great. You offered it to him, still flaming hot. 

He didn’t take it. He knew that regardless of what House Targaryen claimed, none of them were truly fireproof. Not like you were. Not like she would be. 

Instead, Daemon reached for your hand, his expression one of complete wonder. He ran his fingers over your knuckles, as if checking for himself that you were not tricking him. Your skin remained smooth and pleasantly warm under his exploring hand. 

He stepped closer. His pupils were blown, mouth parted in half surprise, half desire. His thumb brushed over the inside of your wrist, and towards the inner side of your arm. His nails, short and well taken care of, scratched pleasantly against your forearm.

Suddenly, he tugged you towards him. Curious about his intentions, you allowed it. It had been a long time since you had been touched with such yearning. It felt as if he wanted to know you by touch and taste alone, unravel all your secrets. And you wanted to let him. 

“Enchantress.” He muttered, under his breath. “Sorceress.” 

“Priestess.” You corrected, looking at him from below your eyelashes.  

Slowly, meeting your eyes, purple against your warm brown, he leant in and kissed you. His mouth caught yours, an instant of absolute violence and sweetness. There was no softness in it. Daemon kissed to conquer, to own. And it was why you had to break it, with the certainty that if you allowed it to go any further, desire would consume you both. 

Red Priestesses weren’t sworn to celibacy. But you couldn’t be with this man, used to possessing, to owning. You had a destiny already, and it wasn’t paramour or wife. And he had his, too. You finally remembered where you had seen him. In your dreams, his blood mixed with the one in your silver Queen. 

“Did you need something?” You asked, tone very casual. He frowned, looking perplexed. You would be, too, if you were him. After such a delicious kiss, rejection would confuse you too. 

“Walk with me.” He pressed, grabbing your elbow. “I can show you the most pleasant areas in the Red Keep.” 

“Of that, I am sure. But I have no time for pleasure.” And you grabbed another leech, turning your back to him. This time, you threw it into the fire without intention, just because you could. 

“I WOULD LIKE to go for a walk with you, priestess.” Daemon says, for what feels like the twelfth time this week alone. As always, you barely lift your eyes from the red tome you are reading. Preparing to entertain Rhaenyra, no doubt. His niece has begun to monopolize far too much of your time for Daemon’s liking. 

Not that Daemon blames her. You are exquisite, and Rhaneyra has always had excellent taste.

“Hm.” You reply, making some notes on a spare parchment. Your penmanship is common, letters more similar to those merchants’ use than the beautiful handwriting most ladies have. Yet, even though it highlights your less than noble origins, Daemon finds it much better than what westerosi women manage to produce. For your writings have a redeemable trait: You write exclusively in High Valyrian. 

“Perhaps, if not a walk, you would like to sup with me?” Daemon tempts you. You have been sitting here for what feels like hours. Perhaps the prospect of food might be more amiable to you. 

“I can't.” You chew on your quill, expression torn. Daemon wonders if you still think he suspects you of being a cunning little witch. Which you are, but he has left behind his worry because you are wholly unprepared to seduce Viserys or Rhaenyra into your way of thinking. 

Whatever they taught you in those Red Temples didn’t prepare you for House Targaryen. Not even close. Viserys listened to your advice before discarding it because, well, he just wasn’t interested in ruling beyond keeping the peace. Your suggestions were too bold to follow them without angering the Faith. 

And Rhaenyra, Rhaenyra had always been capricious. You didn’t realize it, but she was using you to get back at the Hightower whore for attempting to seduce her father. She wasn’t truly interested in your theories about magic and gods. 

“I am not attempting to trick you.” He gently places his hand on your arm, trying to get your attention away from that blasted book. Your skin is soft and smooth to the touch, and Daemon cannot help but wonder how good it will feel against his. 

There has never been a woman who said no to him. That you do so, even when you had trembled with desire when he kissed you, intrigues him. And that you deny him each time you are faced with temptation only makes him want to have you further. 

“I know.” You smile, in that eerie way that tells Daemon that you know because you have seen it, and not just because you trust him. “I still cannot betray my vows.” 

“Red Priestesses make no vow of celibacy.” Daemon says, puzzled. 

“That isn’t the vow I speak of.” And when Daemon asks for clarifications, you simply laugh and claim to be too busy to enlighten him. No matter how much Daemon tries to understand, he doesn’t. 

Hence, the need to come to ask you. This time, he is smarter about it. He comes bearing a gift. A costly one, in which Daemon had splurged. The damn thing is uncannily smart, studying him with huge purple eyes. A fitting gift for an eerie woman. 

“Daemon?” As always, your inquiring tone is more of a courtesy than a real doubt. You probably saw his visit on the torches or something. Was it even worth it preparing a surprise, or would you already know? His question is soon answered when you set down the grinding stone you are using to prepare some sort of red concoction, and mutter. “I am not even from that part of Essos.”

“At least it is cute?” Daemon presents the cage with the little valyrian. The creature gives him a side eyed look, as if judging him. 

“She is adorable.” You agree, opening up the cage without a care in the world. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Daemon had nearly lost a finger to the vicious maws of the damn thing. Turns out, he has little reason to worry. The damn creature climbs on your shoulder and settles there as if she belongs, chittering to herself. “How did you..?”

“She, too, doesn’t belong in a cage. She cannot be owned.” You explain, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. Somehow, Daemon feels like you are not simply talking about the little valyrian. 

“I don’t understand.” He says, swallowing his pride. You turn to look at him, and smile. 

“Men never do.” 

“I ONLY WEAR red.” You say, setting down the parcel in front of Daemon. He is sharpening his sword in the courtyard, the metal shining brightly on the sunlight, making you think of him once again. Azor Ahai and his flaming sword. 

The silks are the most expensive garbs you have ever owned. They had felt so smooth against your skin, cold and soft. But they didn’t belong in the wardrobe of a red priestess. They belonged in some stuffy lady’s trousseau. Perhaps, in a princess’.

You had seen a similar thing in your flames, after all. A thousand beautiful trinkets laid at the feet of your silver princess.

“I do not understand you.” Daemon sets down his sword, but doesn’t take the parcel back. He ignores your extended hands. “Your body yearns for mine, like fire yearns for logs, like men yearn for sustenance.” 

You snort. 

“A bit presumptuous, aren’t we?”

Daemon springs up to his feet, stepping into your personal space. The parcel, containing the beautiful silks, falls forgotten to the ground. 

“I only speak as I see it.” He cups your face in his hands, softly. The tenderness in his grip makes you close your eyes. “The kiss we shared… You felt it too. There is an inferno between the two of us. And Seven Hells…” He leans in, until his lips are merely a breath away from you. “I want to burn.” 

Burn. Burn, like the flames you use to watch the future. The reminder of everything that is at stake makes you jump in your haste to get away from him. 

Daemon doesn’t get angry. Instead, he gives you a long look. 

“I know you desire me. I can tell. Your face is warm, your pupils are blown… Your body betrays you when your mouth refuses to speak. So what is the problem?” 

“You are not for me.” You are too scared to say it plainly. Admitting out loud the two of you can never be together is akin to burying your relationship. Hence, the puzzles and mysteries. 

“Not for you?” Daemon frowns slightly, before he realizes your meaning and his expression turns into a full-blown frown. “You mean, you saw some shit in those flames of yours?” 

“Excuse me?” The rage you feel at him daring to question your visions makes you forget your previous thoughts about keeping your distance, getting in his face.  “How dare you…?” 

Daemon grasps a hand you hadn’t even realized you were using to gesture aggressively in his direction, shushing you. 

“Let us say I believe in your Red God.” He tugs you towards him, letting you collide against his chest. The feeling of him, so firm, so solid against you, is heavenly. You close your eyes, unable to help it. He smells of fire and sweat and something so utterly him it makes you begin to daydream about what it would be like if you could be his. It’s the sweetest of all agonies. “You saw me with someone else?” 

The words hit you like a bucket of cold water. Someone else. Someone he belongs to, someone whose line will bring the Prince that was promised, to save you from the long night. 

You should focus. This is your reality. You are nothing but a voice for R'hllor, you are not meant to want anything else but to spread his word and message. You are not some princess from a fairytale, who will get the handsome knight in the end. 

Yet, it aches. It stings, it hurts. It’s a death from a thousand cuts. All your life, you have dedicated yourself to the cause, and when there is a single thing you want for yourself, you are not allowed to have it. 

“I did. You belong to another woman.” You say, even when it hurts you to do so. R'hllor gives his strongest warriors the worst battles, you try to remember yourself. 

“I do not want that other woman.” Daemon grasps your face between his hands, forcing you to meet his eyes. He presses his forehead against yours. “I want you.” 

“From her line and your line shall come Azor Ahai.” You whisper, trying to get him to understand even when your own heart is breaking. “The prince that was promised. To fight the darkness, the cold, the terrors. I cannot…” 

Instead of scoffing at your beliefs, like he had done before, Daemon sighs. He closes his eyes, before opening them again. 

“These futures you see… They can’t be changed?” 

“I cannot risk it. The fates of our entire world, for a moment of fleeting pleasure?” You untangle yourself from him. “I am sorry, Daemon. I cannot risk it.” 

DAEMON HAD SPENT the whole week thinking about it. Seeing you walk around court, a whisper of red skirts and red curls tumbling down your back, made his heart ache. 

He had never wanted to belong anywhere. He was a Prince of House Targaryen, closer to gods than men. There was no point in attempting to conform or to tie himself down somewhere. 

If someone had asked him before if he thought there was a place where he belonged, he would have said Valyria. If someone asked him now… Daemon only wanted to be yours. And he hated the fact that he could not be. 

He had spent his evenings pouring over all the Red Keep’s library had to offer on prophecies, and then some. It had been a fruitless endeavor. There was little to be learned about prophecies and a lot to be learned about them. His knowledge of dragon dreams alone told him that. They were capricious things, more likely to come true in unexpected ways than to actually make any sense. 

It was why he had always distrusted dreams. It was why he was willing to risk it and be with you. If one tried to avoid the prophecy, it might come true regardless. Or it could seem straightforward, but one could be interpreting it wrong, and just when you thought it meant one thing, it meant another one. 

He wasn’t about to claim to be an expert on how Red Witches worked, but he didn’t care. Even if it doomed the whole world, Daemon wanted to be with you. It was why he had come to seek you out once more. 

You were looking lovelier than ever, seated upon a windowsill watching dawn come. The sunlight played against your features, making it seem as if you were a being of pure light, coming together slowly as the dawn broke. 

You didn’t turn to look at him, but you moved slightly aside, making space for him to sit next to you. Daemon didn’t know how you did it, but you had an eerie sense to know when someone approached you. He hoped that someday you would explain to him how the trick worked. 

He sat next to you, in silence. He grasped your hand in his before he even attempted to speak. You were warm and soft, as you always were. 

“I know not of prophecies.” Daemon began, voice pitched low. For your ears only, less someone else overheard and took him for a sentimental fool. He was one, but only for you. There was no point in ruining his reputation before the entire court. “But I know my heart. I want to belong to you, Priestess. As long as you will have me.” 

“I cannot have…” You begin, and Daemon isn’t about to let you ruin it. 

“Renounce your vows. Or don’t. I’ll convert. Believe in your vision, or don’t. I fear you might have changed it already, with how much I wish to be yours and only yours.” The words just keep coming, and you look horrified at the blasphemy he is spouting. Daemon knows he cannot convince you of anything if you get too incensed and burn him to a crisp.  He raises his palms placatingly. “If your god deals in absolutes, it might have come to pass, and we might have only a short while together. If he doesn’t, perhaps a child of ours will marry a child of hers."

“Are you trying to lecture me on how I should interpret my own visions?” You arch an eyebrow, the very picture of disbelief. Has he gone too far? 

“I would never. I only mean to say…” 

“What if the world implodes? What if the Long Night comes and no one is there to save us from the darkness?” 

“Then I will make the damn child if the future is fixed so. Have a little faith in your god. If this Azor Ahai has to be here, he will be here. Through whatever means it takes him.” 

“That’s not how this works!” You say, outraged. Your cute little face scrunches up in fury, and Daemon thinks he has never met anyone as irresistible as you are. 

“Then teach this poor sinner how to be properly devoted.” Daemon pulls you to him, and hugs you tightly. He has never in his life begged for anything, but for you, he is willing to try. “Let me be yours. Keep the vows, or don’t. Do as you please. I’ll be your husband, your lover, your whore. Anything. As long as I am yours.” 

And thankfully, you save him from further embarrassment. Just as the sun rises fully into the sky, you turn to him and quiet him with a kiss. 

[sachikoq]

I don't really know if this is the place to post this, I'm undiagnosed so if this doesn't really belong I'll delete it if need be, but the moment this really well and truly sank in for me was in 6th grade. I was entering a new school and it being one of those "charter schools" that required uniforms and whatnot, the whole place had this air of self-importance. I'd been bullied by both other kids and adults before but here after a certain point basically everyone began to avoid or start shit with me. There was this one guy in particular who particularly didn't like me and definitely convinced a lot of others to avoid me at that, but it's not really like anyone else did anything about it nor was he really the only one so much as just the most vocal. I'd end up sitting alone unless forced into being in a group at any point. for basically the entire year and any friends I did make tended to go away when they didn't really have to be around. I remember teachers singling me out often for doodling in my notes or something or for the things I liked or for how poor I was or the way I carried myself. At the end of the year, on the last day that school year anyway, One of the only people I managed to convince to talk to me at all came up and told me he was just putting up with having me around so I didn't feel bad, and that nobody really liked me. I started crying heavily in the corner of the room I was already sat in and I just couldn't really stop. Eventually some of the girls in class noticed and the teacher from one of our other classes came over in a rage and demanded we all follow her to another room as she scolded everyone for what had been going on. I remember her being so fucking mad, she was red in the face yelling at them and even when it should've felt like I was finally "winning" or something it still felt awful that it really had to come to that. The one thing I remember her saying was along the lines of "The moment you make anyone feel less is when I have to step in and this becomes a problem." I want to go back someday and thank her but I became a shitty student and for a while in the years after that I began to lash out at others a bit as well, so even if I wasn't worried about the optics of a trans woman randomly visiting a middle school in Florida, I don't think she'd really want to hear from me again anyway. Even so she was one of the only people who ever came off like she actually gave a fuck. I wish I could apologize to so many fucking people from back then for lashing out afterward or for not doing the same but it's neither here nor there ig I know saying things like that comes off like a demand for forgiveness when that's not really ever gonna happen nor does it need to.

I'd tell my parents and they didn't really get it, my stepdad's also a so-called "vaccine truther" and has since spread that to the rest of my immediate family so that ship sailed long ago, and only solidified itself when we were having an argument and I said "what exactly is so wrong with having an autistic child?" and he responded "That's easy for you to say, imagine being the parent to a child like that." Our issues even when like 99.9% of neurotypicals claim to give a fuck about them are never our own to them. It's about the parents or the community they live in or this and that. Nobody ever wants to fucking address the elephant in the room with this shit and it's probably because they already know where the fuck they stand.

I failed a grade after that and the next years after that it never really got any easier or better aside from finding other people who'd been through similar. The only people I ever really felt safe around after this were other autistics. To this day the only people I ever truly feel OK around are other autistics. Being an adult and leaving my parents' has made it easier to take hold of my life but it doesn't make that feeling of "does this person really just hate me" ever go away.

every piece of ""autistic representation"" in hollywood sucks not just because of the infantalization and inspiration porn but because movie executives always fail to realize the real universal autistic experience: spending your childhood slowly and unfalteringly realizing all of your friends not so secretly hated and/or merely tolerated you at best and you've missed every social signal about it ever

[kkpaaw]

It's Time~

I told yall the next post by me about the au would be Kai's season 1 concept and i meant it!

So here we are!

This is what Kai is wearing all through pre-season 1 and season 1

So let's talk a bit about Kai and what important information you'll need to know about him for pre-season 1 and season 1

♤Kai♤

Kai is the main protagonist in this au. Since he is taking over MK's spot in the lmk story and Lore, that means pretty much everything MK went through Kai does as well

He's still the same brash prideful caring loser he's always been, that hasn't changed, but now he faces a new danger and new adventure that he never expected to go through. At least he's not alone, he has Jay and a bunch of new allies in his corner helping out!

Kai, like MK will be staying with Pigsy and working at his noodle shop in order to make money and keep his place of residence.

♤Backstory♤

Kai's backstory In this au is quite different. Those of you who have watched lmk know what I mean but for those who don't, when time comes for the information to be relevant you'll know.

But for the sake of pre-season 1 and season 1 it's not that relevant

For now, I'll be telling you the events that lead up to Kai getting stuck in the LMK realm...

_____

__________

A few months after the events of Crystallized concluded Kai was in his and Nya's family home, visiting their parents and helping out around the house. He was clearing though some of his old belongings when he came across a particular item.

It was a small golden bell

The bell was an item Kai had never seen before nor has any memory of getting it yet it seemed so..familiar.

Like eerily familiar.

Where had this come from? And why did it seem to call out to him??

"H-hey mom?" He called out, eyes still stuck In the bell in his hands.

"What is it Kai?" His mother's distance voiced called back.

"Can you... come here? I have something I want to show you!" He shouted.

"In a minute sweetie!" Kai hummed in response.

Kai found himself unable to look away from the bell. There wasn't anything unique about it. It was jsut a simple golden bell with a black strap and some tasles at the end, and yet, somrgung about it just screamed it being familiar

Something calling for him to ring it.

Kai isn't known for his good ideas so maybe that's why he ended up doing that exact thing.

The bells sound echoed through the room, the melody quiet yet loud, and once again something about it just insisted it was familiar.

At first nothing happened and Kai was about ready to shove aside such a feeling of nostalgia and out it away, but then...

The bell started to glow and vibrate rapidly.

"W-what the-?!" Kai yelped and dropped the bell. Instead of falling however it just overdue in place, the glowing and vibrating getting more intense.

Kai stood frozen as the bell got more and more intense. The glow becoming os bring it nearly blinded him. He tried to look away but the bell once again called his attention and he found himself looming into the glowing light as it grew brighter and brighter and then-

*POOF*

In one swift blink of light, both Kai and the Bell, were gone.

Only a few moments later did Maya appear I jthe doorway of his room looking confused as she searched for her son

"Kai? Sweetie? Where are you? I'm here to see what you wanted to show me?" She looked around the room In confusion

Did she mishear him? Mayne he was somewhere else?

She turned away and called out to Ray

"Ray?"

"Ya?"

"Did you see where Kai went?"

Neither her or Ray knew this yet but that would be the last time they see Kai for quite a while

_____

End!

Little story for you guys to give u an idea of how Kai ended up in the realm of lmk. I'll go into more detail about this as we go through the episodes so don't worry. This was more or less so u guys knew just HOW he got there

The next post you guys see about the au aside from any asks, will be Jay's concept Art for S1!. After him I got I think 2 more concepts for 2 other characters that I wanna use in this au! You'll see what I mean!

[luvztodd]

Hello . Hope you're doing amazing. I wanted to ask if you could please do a ladybug and black cat miraculous holder reader for mark grayson . The invincible universe needs a ladybug with the damages happening there.

a/n: hi, thank you so much for requesting! i’ve never watched the show nor do i know anything about it but i did do some research and watch a couple edits lol, but if anything is inaccurate forgive me. this does not follow the timeline of the show, i hope you like it! ᰔᩚ

LITTLE LADYBUG

mark grayson x LADYBUG! reader

in which he makes a superhero friend and a girl friend

♫ Cariño - The Marías

The first time he met you was when he attempted to stop a robbery soon after he first got his powers. He was in his dorky homemade costume struggling to get the bad guys. And you had swooped in out of seemingly nowhere in a….ladybug costume?

Nevertheless before he had a chance to talk to you, his dad swooped in and carried him off, leaving you to handle the damages.

The second time he saw you, unbeknownst to him, was not as heroes but as classmates. After being late to class because he was too busy talking to William about the latest Seance Dog issue, he found himself standing outside his AP Calculus class waiting for one of his lazy classmates to come and open the door.

Then came a pretty girl who’s name he didn’t know and who’s face he didn’t recognize. You had stopped infront of the same door as him, small, awkward smiles were exchanged until someone finally opened the door and let you both in.

Mark found his eyes drifting off to the corner you sat in every so often. He didn’t even know you existed until today, so why was he so drawn to you? And why did you feel so familiar? Mark chalked it off as the weird sensations his body was getting after developing his powers and went through the rest of the day as normal.

While stopping another attempted robbery, during his first few days officially as Invincible, he ran into the cute little ladybug girl again. This time was different though. This time he had stopped the bad guys and there was no imminent threat to stop him from approaching.

He floated down to where you were standing and he started to speak softly, careful not to spook you. “Uh…hello?” He cursed himself for sounding so unsure and awkward. He was Invincible right now, not Mark.

“Huh?” You turned around surprised to see somebody now standing behind you , “Oh hey, the new hero right, Invisible? No that’s not it.” You hummed, a gloved hand tapping your chin in thought.

“Invincible.” Mark quickly corrected. “And you are…?” He tilted his head in curiosity.

“Ladybug.” You replied, hands on your hips, chest puffing out just the slightest with pride.

“Huh.” Mark deadpanned, “So…you’re dressed like a ladybug…and your name is…Ladybug? Isn’t that like….too spot on? Uh- No pun intended.” He awkwardly laughed, scratching the back of his neck.

“What’s wrong with my name? Or my costume? At least i’m straightforward, i wouldn’t even know what to call you if you hadn’t told me. I would’ve just called you…yellow..and blue guy.” You huffed defensive of your hero alias.

“Okay, okay, my bad. It’s cute- I mean- Not cute. Well, not saying you’re not cute i’m just saying-“

Your seriousness faded away and you broke out in laughter, bringing a hand up to your mouth to cover your smile. “You’re really…weird.”

Mark laughed too, he couldn’t quite deny the statement. And you didn’t even say it with any malice which kind of made him feel good. The way you said it was sweet, not cruel in the way his middle school bullies used to, but nice.

“You’re weird yourself.” Mark teased, looking you up and down. His goggle covered eyes roamed over your costume. You sure did look like a ladybug. A red spandex suit with black spots covered your body, a domino mask with the same pattern adorned your face and a utility belt with a yo-yo of all things. “Little Ladybug.” He added with a boyish smile.

“Touché.” You shrugged, laughing along with him but you felt your cheeks heat up at his sweet nickname.

It was strange how quickly you two become comfortable around each other. With a few more jokes and a couple more teases, you two decided to patrol the city together, figuring that you two might as well work together. Two heads was better than one. As the day wore on and the bright blue sky faded away and the stars peaked in, you two were already friends.

Mark went home that night very happy. He had just made his very first superhero friend. And it was a girl no less. A pretty girl with awesome powers. As he finished up his shower and threw on a pair of sweats he couldn’t help but think about you. He wondered who you were under the mask, were you as pretty as your eyes were? As soft and sweet as your voice? As kind and graceful as your hero persona?

He bet you were.

The week after meeting you was full of changes. His dad was injured badly, the Guardians of the Globe were gone, and Mark felt like his world was just crumbling bit by bit. The only thing that stayed the same in his life was of course his mom, but now you. You were now a constant presence in his life, always showing up when he was struggling to fight the small-fries, it was nice, having a friend like you. Someone that had his back even when he felt like the odds were stacked against him.

He’d argue and say that the two of you were best friends but you had said that’s too much, too soon. He disagreed but it’s fine. Either way, of the course of a few months, you two had grown extremely close. The only problem was, neither of you knew who the other really was. And as much as Mark just wanted to rip his mask off and tell you, he knew he couldn’t.

You two weren’t friends at school nor did you know each other, until you became friends with a nice, nerdy boy in your English class who was kind enough to help you with your homework. After spending some time with William, he introduced you to his friend, Mark.

Mark Grayson.

The boy you’ve been quietly pining after since 7th grade. The first meeting was just a little awkward, considering how nervous you were but after some after-school hangouts and a few lunches spent together, you and Mark became friends also.

Of course, while you were Ladybug and Mark was Invincible, you two discussed school frequently. Mentioning how tiring it was juggling academics and the life of being a superhero was just common small talk between you two. Until, Invincible had mentioned making a new friend who shared the same name as you. It gave you pause but you didn’t think much about it. And then the next day, when Mark was ranting to you and William about how awesome the superhero Ladybug was, it made you stop and think, again. But of course, you just brushed it off to being paranoid.

As days went by and being Invincible was getting a little easier everyday Mark thought that maybe being a superhero wasn’t as hard as his dad had claimed it was. He thought he was getting the handle of things.

Until his first big battle arrived.

The Guardians were gone and there was no one nearby to stop this alien invasion, so he was left to his own devices. He was too confident, he had flown into the fight too sure of himself. He wasn’t ready for all the blood, the cries and the screams. He choked, he froze up and passed out, falling deep into a big dirt ditch clutching an injured little old lady in his arms.

While unconscious, he had no idea that the Teen Team had swooped in to help, this included you. When the Flaxans had begun to shrivel up and die, the cowards that they were, they all began to retreat. Afterwards you used your trusty yo-yo to help get injured people who were unable to move to safety. As you searched for people, you stumbled upon Invincible.

“Oh no…” You had whispered to yourself as you slid down the wall of the dirt crater, you checked the older woman’s pulse first, wincing when you realized she was long gone, you then checked Invincible’s pulse sighing in relief when it was steady.

Eve and Robot helped get the two out of the ditch, while you took caring for Invincible into your own hands. He had mentioned off-handedly where he lived. You can only remember his address because you also remember vividly scolding him for giving out personal information to someone he doesn’t really know. So you used your Lucky Charm to make yourself a pair of wings and fly him home, personally.

Once you had found his house, which took you a ridiculously long time, you laid him on the bed in his room and carefully began to check him for injuries. As you checked him, you found yourself wanting to peak under his mask. Curiosity getting the best of you, you were unable to help yourself, so you hesitantly lifted a finger to his mask, pinching the fabric and carefully lifting it up. You almost gasped when you realized it was your dorky classmate, Mark Grayson.

You slowly put the fabric back down and backed away, your job was finished here anyways and if you stayed you didn’t know that you’d be able to keep quiet from the shock. You climbed out of the window you came through and hoped that your friend, who you now knew was your cute classmate Mark, would be okay.

A day later, when Mark returned to school he was grumpy, embarassed and annoyed. After everything he had just went through, his mom still sent him to school only a day after the accident. He groaned as he lazily trudged to his math class. He wanted to be anywhere but here right now, he felt awful, he looked awful and all he wanted to do was see his little ladybug and rant to her.

He knocked roughly on the door of his Calculus class, not even bothering to look up when he hears soft footsteps approach. He was too tired and ashamed to be seen right now. He was hoping to completely ignore your presence until you broke the silence.

“I like your Ladybug keychain.” You hummed sweetly, making sure to change your voice just the slightest bit so he wouldn’t recognize it.

“Huh?” Mark glanced at the right zipper on his backpack, where a plush keychain of his friend hung, “Oh thanks. I like your Invincible keychain, cool.” He unenthusiastically replied as the door creaked open. He slipped through it, a bandaged hand holding it open for you.

As you thanked him, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of his keychain. You’d tell him who you were when the time came to it, but for now, you didn’t mind just being his little ladybug.

[micky-44-blog]

Stuck like glue

Alastor x clingy reader

__________________________________________

Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon, was not one to be touched so freely. He was a being of chaos and unpredictability, always grinning, always watching, and never quite the type to indulge in the sentimentalities of romance. And yet, somehow, he found himself entangled with you—his ever-clingy, ever-adoring girlfriend who had an insatiable need to be close to him.

At first, it was amusing. Your constant need for affection, the way you clung to his arm like a lost kitten, the way you would drape yourself over his shoulders and nuzzle against his cheek. He laughed it off, flashing his sharp-toothed grin and allowing it—just barely.

“My dear, you’re quite the persistent little limpet, aren’t you?” he mused one evening as you latched onto him while he was in the middle of an elegant waltz with himself in the grand lobby of the Hazbin Hotel.

You simply hummed, content in wrapping your arms around his waist, resting your head against his back. “Mhm! You’re warm!” you chirped.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I am dead, you know. Warmth isn’t exactly in my nature.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you murmured, nuzzling closer.

Over time, what he once considered entertaining began to morph into something else entirely. Every time he turned a corner, there you were, smiling up at him with that look of pure adoration. If he sat down, you were immediately at his side, clinging to his arm or looping yours around his. If he tried to work his magic, you’d find a way to disrupt him, snuggling into his side or pulling his hand into yours. You were relentless.

And yet…he never stopped you.

Oh, he pretended to be exasperated. He huffed, rolled his eyes, called you an insufferable little leech, and even vanished into his shadowy void on occasion just to shake you off momentarily. But without fail, you always found your way back to him. And without fail, he always let you.

One evening, while the two of you lounged in his dimly lit quarters, you had sprawled yourself across his lap, arms wrapped securely around his middle as if you were afraid he’d disappear if you let go. He ran his claws through your hair absentmindedly, something he did more often than he cared to admit.

“Tell me, my dear,” he began, his voice smooth like a radio broadcast, “do you ever tire of clinging to me like this?”

“Nope,” you answered instantly, snuggling closer.

He chuckled darkly. “What is it about me that makes you so attached? I am a demon, you know. Not exactly the most huggable of creatures.”

You gazed up at him with wide, lovesick eyes, your grip on him tightening. “Because I love you, silly! You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me! You make me happy!”

For a moment, just a flicker, his grin softened. His usual theatrical demeanor wavered ever so slightly. He stared down at you, studying your expression—so full of sincerity, of devotion, of something he had never quite understood nor experienced in his long existence.

And though he would never say it out loud, though he would continue to tease, to taunt, to roll his eyes at your boundless affection—

He supposed…he didn’t really mind it after all.

[carcassolie]

Well idk about you but as someone who's been into astrology and all things related to human behavior for 10 years, I appreciate the people who at least try to understand themselves and the people around them but not all of them are gifted with emotional intelligence. Even when they're wrong, it gives us a reason to understand why they made such a conclusion and why they are stuck somewhere.

The ones you're speaking of are probably those TikTok ones that migrated to Tumblr these recent years. They probably don't even know that astrology isn't just the sun sign, or don't even know that Hellenistic astrology exists.

As for those people with pattern recognition, they exist, they're the type of people to see life in cycles, how history repeats itself, they're not rare nowadays but I assure you, it's confirmed that 99% of them are spiritual (even when they don't follow a spiritual path). Many different typologies confirmed this and I've seen them around here (including you). In the daily mundane, these people aren't common and possibly seen as "stupid", but when it comes to philosophies, astrology and all, they're the best.

I understand your anger, but you really can't do anything about it☹️ because not everyone thinks the way you do, not everyone will agree with me also. Instead, we should basically just encourage people to learn at least the basics. I'll remind you that most people that are interested (not practicing) astrology all come here to learn about their future spouse and if they're gonna succeed or not. instead of insults and focusing on the problem, we should take it from another angle and get the people to ACTUALLY appreciate what astrologers do, how they read, and it's not just non sense but an actual study with its rules and applications. What you're saying is something akin to stop using ai art, but only the minority will listen. It's a sad reality tbh but the only thing we could do is have these types of people (most of them, young girls) not get too brainwashed by the superficial.

There are two types of people here in our community, those who are realistic and honest, the others superficial and generalize everything. I believe we must see both sides, because if you wanna solve such a problem you gotta understand why those people make such biased views, it could be their trauma, or they're just a hater, or more.

It's like this with every other community that studies humans, let it be tarot, typologies, palmistry, even those silly pseudoscience, probably medical too. You can't change how people think and process their logic, but you can certainly CHANGE what they think about.

Tbh your feelings are so valid, but these events are happening everywhere, not everyone will respect what you fully believe in nor practice, you should focus more on those who want to actually believe and make a change🥲

Astro observations are so funny cause you can tell when certain "notes" are just vent sessions about specific people with random placements slapped on the title.

You didn't "observe" anything, you're just mad at a specific Scorpio Venus.

[dinnersyummy]

2/14 (Megumi x Reader)

Cw: use of y/n, not proof read, angst, kind of ooc

PART 2

Wc: 727

a/n: first fic woohoo!! Here goes nothing, I've finally decided to dive into writing. Not the best but we all start somewhere </3 also for a friend 😛

Before you knew it, it was already February 14th. This might finally be the blooming of a potential relationship. You and Megumi had known each for quite a few years, ever since you joined Jujutsu High you’ve always had an eye on him. Over the past year though you’ve been working and pouring copious amounts of effort into your so called “friendship”. Most times he’d simply dismiss your presence or tell you to leave him alone. Into the late hours of the night you would find Megumi cooped up in what seemed like endless piles of work in the library. You’d always make sure to maybe bring him his favorite snack or a cup of tea thinking maybe it would help! And every time you did you’d be met with the same reactions. Whether it be a scoff or him telling you he wasn't a child needing reminders or a helping hand. It hurt a bit, but hey! Maybe he was warming up or shy! Many of your friends warned you and told you how one-sided it was and how gruesome it was watching your efforts. “y/n, you've really gotta stop trying can't you see? Your efforts aren't getting you anywhere.” Your friend stated. You simply hummed in acknowledgement, no matter what anyone said it wouldn't stop you! “Yeah y/ns she's got a point ya know, it's been ages. Megumis still the same stoic, gloomy, pushover he's always been.” Another friend chimes in. “Maybe I’ll take your pleas into consideration, anyways i’m gonna get going now.” You quickly managed to blurt out. Today was the day, today you were gonna confess to Megumi. You went back to your dorm, you changed into a more suitable outfit and grabbed the letter and chocolate. You had messaged him earlier to meet you in the courtyard, he left you on read. You smoothed out your clothes while waiting for him, a part of you didnt even think he would show up. But to your surprise he did. “What do you want?” Megumi mumbled, maybe if you had listened close enough you would notice the hint of annoyance in his voice. You swallowed hard, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “I…uhm..” Suddenly doubt and worry had consumed you, all these possible what ifs clouded your mind. “You what? I don't have all day.” He spat out harshly. With one final gulp you told yourself, what's the worst that's gonna happen? “I’ve always had an eye on you ever since the day I joined Jujutsu High. My feelings now tresend that of a friend. Maybe just maybe you do feel the same way.” You talked as quickly as you could, it was a mumble jumble of words and feelings. You quickly shove both the letter and the chocolates in front of you hoping he’d accept them. Silence. You could feel your heart pounding out of your chest. “What would ever make you think I would like you?” Megumi growled. You felt your heart break into a million different pieces. “All those attempts at trying to get closer only made me detest you more. I can't stand it when you're near. Everything about you is irritating. It's almost pitiful the way you follow me around like a lost puppy.” There was a prominent scowl on his face. Your eyes were stinging, you tried your best not to cry. “Oh. I see.” it comes out as a whisper getting carried along with the wind. Couldn't he have been kinder about it? “I dont need your love nor pity y/n.” Megumi slapped away the chocolates and letter in front of him. That was your final straw, first one droplet then the next before you knew your tears began to stream down. Just as you started crying so did the sky, it was as if they had shared your pain too.  “Don't try to befriend me again y/n” And with that it was the last thing he said before he walked off. You stood there crying alongside the rain. Perhaps this was how it was meant to be. 

part 2 is here!

[simplyvyn]

── .✦ ❝ BETTER THAN HE DOES❞

⟡ You and Reo were enemies. Until he discovered your vulnerable state about someone. But you also discovered something about him.

Warnings: implied fem reader, reader has an ex (not reo!), (name) mention once

The party was booming loudly with laughter and glasses clanking together. And here you were, in a corner holding a glass of wine that you're supposed to drink happily. Until your lover.. at least now, your ex, broke up with you with a paragraph in chat.

The audacity of this man to even break up with you from a text.

You took a big sip from your wine, the barista asking if you were okay. That took you off your phone. And you just said 'yes' hesitantly. This whole thing was getting too much focus from you. You stood up, leaving your drink and decided to cool off your head outside.

You were sitting around in the garden of your home cooling your head, taking a breath. Tears want to come out of your eyes, but they won't. As if you wanna scream all the pain out, describe the pain with words while holding something or someone.

You were just, hazily staring at the distance, thinking about the breakup. You didnt even answer him, you just blocked him already in anger. It makes you wonder why you were with him in the first place. Maybe you were too devoted to him.

Tears were starting to flood in your eyes, until a hand to your shoulder was there.

You slightly flinch, taking your focus off there and look back to the hand that which flinched away to you as well.

"Reo!.."

From the Mikage Corporation. aka also the frienemy-business of your parents. So practically that make you two also enemies! rivals, actually.

"Was walking around the garden, then i saw a girl who got 98.7 on the chemistry test. Thought i might rub my 99.3 on the test." He said emphasizing the last words.

"Ha. Ha. Shouldn't you brag your 99.3 score inside the party?"

"I should ask you the same thing. This is your parents party. And you, the host's daughter is out here." Reo sat down beside you with a puff. Crossing his arms and pouting.

"I just.. needed a time to breath." You hold your cold hands to warm them. It seems like they turned cold when you saw your ex's stupid paragraph.

Reo then looked at you with a slight concern, realizing it was actually a bad time to brag.

"Is something wrong?" Reo asks with a concerned look.

"Why are you asking? Its nothing anyways."

"Nothing. Just concerned. Plus, from the looks of it, it doesn't look nothing. You look tired and in pain like crazy."

You then look at Reo because of words. "Do i really look hurt right now?"

"Well, yeah. Maybe because you are. Do.. you mind telling me why you are?"

You didn't know what happened next. All you were thinking about was your feelings. To you, right now. Only your feelings matter. Cause, damn, you look, sound and feel fucked up right now. All of some boy. Tears flooded your eyes again and this time, you held no hesitation of even hiding your tears nor stopping them. You didn't try to keep quiet as well. If you could, you would, though.

Reo then went closer and lean closer to you, putting a hand on your back and rubbing it while he hands you a handkerchief. You couldn't skip the fact, he was actually kind of acting like a gentleman right now. —Anyway, the handkerchief that Reo handed to you, you used it to cover your mouth and nose. It took you quite awhile to cry all your feelings out. At the same time you were spouting, 'i hate him' or 'where did i go wrong' or 'im so so tired' and much more, and he got more concerned.

Soon, your crying was slowly starting to soften, you trying to wipe your tears as Reo gave you a moment of silence before asking for some context.

Now that you did, Reo thinks it was the perfect time to ask. "May i.. ask? What exactly happened and who is this 'him'?"

You were still slightly choking at your words but you answered Reo easily. "I-.. He's my ex.." you said, sniffling a bit. Reo knew you had a boyfriend. Yet theres still a feeling inside the boy's heart that he was actually was happy. You finally got rid of that sickening view of a man. He did not like him one bit.

"Oh.. What happened?" And again, you didn't know what you we're spouting at this point. Tears flowing down, as you give an explanation to this purple haired gentleman. "His stupid ass is what happened! Not only did he just break up with me through text. He was also cheating on me! A classmate of mine told me, and then when i asked him about it, he said sorry and asked for another chance, so i gave him one and then he broke up with me through text and said he cheated again!" You spoke to him with a fast pace. Gladly, Reo was able to catch up with the words you were spouting.

He was still rubbing your back, and you were still holding the handkerchief he gave you. You wiped your tears again, your makeup then looking all smudgy and messy.

"Whats wrong with me?.. What am i missing?” Iyou ask yourself.

Reo cannot avoid the fact that he liked what you looked right now. What he was viewing is him, holding you and a scenery of your face looking all messy. Lipstick smudged, the mascara under your eyes looking messy. The man then wiped the messy mascara on your eyes so you can have a clear view. You were still having a few hiccups from crying and then, Reo's fingers were a bit stained from your mascara.

"You deserve better." He mentioned, still looking at you, never taking off eye contact.

"People always say that. When i do find someone better, it’s still not enough."

"I want someone who can treat me like i deserve it. Shit- does that sound selfish?.."

Reo laughed at your statement. "Not when you look like this right now."

The purple haired man then cleared his throat. "Y'know.. if you really want someone who can treat you like that. I know a little someone.."

"Well, unless if your not gonna make him a rebound, you know.." Reo said.

You looked at him in disbelief "You think i'd still be so hooked up with that jerk to treat my new boyfriend like a rebound?"

“Tell me about him and tell him i need a bit more time to recover. I don't want him to rush things." You added, with your eyebrows furrying, and creating a few distance away from him.

"You don't need to tell him that." Reo answered and you look at him with a slight confusion.

"Then i don't want him to be my boyfriend if he will rush things." You crossed arms and leaned behind you, laying on the bench you sat on.

"Don't worry, I won't rush things with you." Reo answered.

sniff “That’ll be grea–“ You paused.

You tried to remember his words. I won't rush things? Why would he? Is he gonna force the guy to not rush things with you? No, he wouldn't do that. But.. huh?

The sound of laughter broke you to your thoughts and you slowly went to realization.

He is the little someone.

"What? Wait!- WHAT?" You were in a pool of jumbled words. You didn't know what to say. Reo Mikage?

You've always wondered why girls would want to go dates on him. Wait no, in fact you do know why. They only want the infamous Reo Mikage for his money and luxury. It was all to obvious. But at the same time, he's not really a.. boyfriend material. I mean, all he does, is play football, and be smart, and be kind and sweet, and be thoughtful and be funny and-

Now you see, what those girls see. Except, you see more to him than luxury.

"I like you, (name). Fuck- I think i even adore you because I've been waiting for too long to even say these type of words to you. Your exactly what i want. If anything, i want to be what you also desire."

At this point, your tears we’re already dried up, only a mess of your mascara as you try to process that this man basically confessed. “Is this a joke?”

Stupid.

How can you basically say that? He sounded genuine as if the rivalry that you two have was actually just romantic tension.

“..–No, I want to take this, seriously..” He answers putting a hand on his head as he speaks to you.

“I’m sorry, this is all too sudden, —it’s not that i’m rejecting you but please give me time. I will consider.. this.” Your own head was still trying to make up words on what to answer when you’re still processing his words.

A hand on your hair glided, as he fixes your hair, wipes your tears and kissed your temple. “There won’t be much time to think by the time the night ends. Just make sure your night ends with me.” He was still holding your face gently after he kissed you on your temple.

Although his cheeks had visible pink tint on it, no hint on his eyes we’re the least embarassed. Infact, he was smiling and all-giddy just because he got to hold your face like this and you looking up to him like that.

“Let’s go back inside, i can’t let that jerk ruin your night.” And, —well, let’s just say Mikage Reo is a man of his word.

Haha hi guys.. im back.. and will disappear again……

[infinity-survivor-choco]

Pssst. Newbies. And for the not so newbies too.

okay, people who got here recently don't know this and people who've been here for awhile forget sometimes. I want you guys to remember these VERY important basic steps to enjoy the hellsite - no, listen, especially if you're a minor, these are really important.

Don't Feed The Trolls. This is basic internet safety 101 from even before I was a Timmy. Block anybody who makes you uncomfortable. No. You don't owe anyone an explanation. Not me not your your friends not Smooth Cat Bowser. Block.

Avoid Discourse. Seriously. It's 2025. Being alive is discourse.

Ignore politics. I'll sum it up quickly. Everyone Sucks. No matter the dog whistles or anything you may think is in your interest. It's not. BUT some things objectively suck more than others. Make yourself familiar with groups like MAGA so you can avoid them

Curate Your Experience. Tag appropriately. Avoid Cross-tagging. Learn about trigger warnings. But most of all. Follow blogs that make you happy. Don't stalk people you don't like to see if they vague-post about you. 90% of the time they won't and the other time you're hurting yourself.

Avoid AI. It's a cardinal sin of Tumblr. I used it in the past for a week for a social experiment and luckily everyone reacted the same way. Upset. Tumblr is meant for Organic use. Not training AI on your data.

Go to settings, privacy, see that innocuous option that says do not sell my data not so cleverly turned off by default? Turn it on.

We Are All Mentally Ill As Fuck.

Outsiders will call Tumblr echo chambers. This is good. This is a safe haven.

Educate yourself on the LGBTQA community if you're curious. Observe. Make yourself aware of the different labels, but don't feel obligated to do anything. You don't need to learn every neo-pronoun. You don't need to learn any actually. It's about being comfortable with yourself and how you're perceived. Do respect users if you go to their blog though.

Focus on what makes YOU happy. Tumblr isn't about making the highest quality content with niche fonts and indie roleplays, that was a long time back. it's about being you.

Topics of mental health disorders and disabilities are slippery. You may think you know a lot. Beware of the Dunning Kruger Effect. You absolutely should post about your hot takes. Just make sure you can ask questions if you're unsure or make those hot takes be informed ones.

Trauma is valid. Being an abuse survivor is valid. Having PTSD and being disabled is valid. What's not valid is using that when you make someone upset to justify it. It's common especially among fellow neurodivergent people for misunderstandings to happen and trauma to clash. Don't get lost in the "whose fault it was." or trying to get payback. More often than not nobody means what was said. Instead of thinking with your heart think what you WANT to tell the other person. Then take a deep breath. You're okay. We're all learning.

Learn the difference between something being a Squick and something being Gross. If something is objectively gross like ilegal content. (No. Not fictional ships) But ilegal content you can report it. Cybertip doesn't deal with fictional situations.

Reblogs Better Than Likes

Embrace The Whimsy. Seriously you can post at 7 in the morning about a three eyed cactus sitting on a Caesar salad watching Kermit the Frog. Your posts don't need to make sense. Lateral thinking is your strenght and nobody's going to judge. More often than not your whimsy will get double the whimsy.

Exist. Focus on existing. Today. Not tomorrow. Not the plans for 2050 or the future. Let yourself be. The world right now has enough problems you can't compute them - nor should you. Bombarding yourself with information will make you miserable. This is true for minors and even adults.

Enjoy the chaos!

[fel-09]

Howdy! I have another monster plot if you are up for it!

Instead of a vampire, Reader is a werewolf! And they are doing everything they physically can to hide this fact about them. Even going out in the middle of the night into the woods so they can change and no one will see! But Thranduil isn’t blind to them leaving, and he wants to know why Reader is doing this.

Werewolf for Thranduil

Long ago, when the forests could still speak and the stars leaned down to kiss the rivers goodnight, there lived the Moon’s Children.

They were not quite human, and not quite beast — born from the breath of the night wind and the silver threads of moonlight.

By day, they walked the earth as people, soft-footed and kind-eyed, with laughter like leaves rustling in the breeze.

But when the moon rose full and round, their true hearts would stir beneath their skin.

It wasn’t a curse, nor a punishment.

The Moon had made them this way — so that when the night grew too dark and the woods too wild, there would be someone who understood the language of both man and beast.

They were gentle creatures, really.

They would slip away when no one was watching, into the arms of the forest, where they could run without shame, howl without fear, and stretch their bones beneath the stars.

The world, however, does not always love what it cannot understand.

So the Moon’s Children learned to hide.

They wore gloves to keep their claws unseen.

They smiled carefully, so no one would see their sharp teeth beneath.

And when the moon pulled at their hearts like a mother calling her lost child — they went quietly, so no one would know they were ever gone.

It is said that if you listen closely, on the coldest nights, you can still hear them running through the trees — wild, free, and soft as shadows.

They were never monsters.

They were just children who belonged too much to the night.

You thought you were careful.

You thought the Elvenking wouldn’t notice the way you slipped away each night, feet quiet as breath, vanishing past the great stone gates of the Woodland Realm and into the forest like a ghost.

You thought he wouldn’t see how you flinched when the full moon rose, how you kept your distance, how you wore gloves even when the nights were warm — as if you were hiding claws.

But Thranduil was no fool.

A thousand years had taught him how to watch, how to read the things left unsaid.

And tonight, when you thought yourself unseen, he followed.

---

You ran until the trees swallowed you whole, until the shadows softened your shape, and the pulse beneath your skin grew too loud to ignore.

You knew you didn’t have long — the shift always came whether you wanted it or not.

Bones breaking, skin burning, breath shallow as the beast inside of you woke.

You let it happen in the dark, far away from the eyes of elves who would never understand.

But when you opened your eyes again, fur damp with sweat, breath heavy in your wolf form — he was there.

Leaning against a tree, calm, still, but eyes sharp as moonlight.

"You’ve been lying to me," Thranduil said quietly. "Why?"

You froze. Panic sharp and wild in your chest. No one was supposed to see. No one was supposed to know.

But his voice softened, almost dangerous in how gentle it was:

"Did you think you could carry this alone forever, little wolf?"

He caught you that night — not with chains or cold words, but with hands gentle as silk, slipping through your fur as if you were something precious, something fragile.

You tried to run, but he moved faster. And when you snarled, he didn’t flinch.

Instead, he knelt before you and murmured:

"If you must bite, then bite me."

And you did.

You sank your teeth into the muscle of his shoulder, half-mad with the ache in your chest and the beast roaring in your head.

But Thranduil only sighed, like your bite soothed him.

After that night, the game changed.

He let you shift when the moon called, but he never let you do it alone.

You would wake to find him beside you, pale fingers threading through your fur, tracing the line of your ears until you pressed into his hand despite yourself.

"You hide so much of yourself," he whispered once, stroking behind your ear in slow, careful circles. "But I see you. Even like this."

And when you shifted back — trembling, ashamed — he would brush the wild hair from your face and spend long hours untangling it, combing it smooth with careful hands.

On the worst nights, when the pull of the wolf was too much, when you could barely breathe without feeling like something inside you might break — he would let you sleep at his side, curled small beneath the weight of his arm.

You, all teeth and bones and trembling breath.

Him, cool and steady and untouchable.

As if he could hold the wildness in you quiet by keeping you close.

"You don’t have to hide from me," he said once, voice a murmur against the crown of your head.

"You belong here. Right here. Where I can keep you safe… from yourself."

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Happy Friday RTA!

I have some thoughts on the whole “Why is William not travelling more” thing. Mind you, I do sometimes feels it is very tinhatty, but it is what I think.

See, I believe the root of all our issues is Charles. Now, don’t get me wrong, I am neither here nor there with him. Meaning I have no issue with him to the point of blaming him for everything under the sun or defending him even when he is in the wrong. Charles has spent so much time, like a looooot of time, being the PoW, living under his mother’s shadow, his mother The Queen, one of the most recognizable and relevant figures in the political and social world of the last 50 years (giving myself some creative liberties here). Charles was still a Prince when all the other heirs his age were becoming Kings and Queens. Then, the children of those peers of him were taking over, and he was now bowing to people he never had to bow to. Charles is a man of arrogance, and anyone can tell that. Probably a unique combination of aristocratic and Royal arrogance, could be that. He had his place on the spotlight for a very long time… until Diana. Then, everything was about her. His achievements were put second to her just showing up. He was just PoW, Elizabeth’s son, Diana’s husband. And then, William’s father. William the loved and adored one. Sure, C has his fans and follower and what not, but he isn´t William, just as he isn’t Elizabeth II.

Now, he is King. The King. He is the most important one everywhere. Unless William or Catherine are there. Because he goes to Commonwealth day, and Catherine gets the covers. Because he gets a royal wedding for his wife, and everyone is looking at the now Wales. He gets cancer, and people are worried about Catherine.

All the things he wanted to do, the tours, the state visits, being received as The King by those he had to bow to before, are on pause. Because his time is even shorter than he thought, because he is mortal and old and still living under someone else’s shadow: the new Prince and Princess of wales (another Princess of Wales stealing his spotlight).

Williams does and the press covers it. The same with Catherine. The kids show up and people go feral. His Queen does not get the same recognition as Catherine, not even close.

Do I believe W&C put the kids first and that is why we don’t see them as often? Sure. Do I think KP says something and BP/CH twist it and make it not happen/wrong/you chose? Yes. Williamscould do better? Yes. Will he? Sure, when he is King. Not now, not when Charles’ ego is hanging by a thread, his place in history being a fickle of what he wanted. He was a great PoW, hardworking, trendsetter, people oriented. That is his legacy, one his son is respecting but will never do just like C did, because W is not C. Charles the King? Charles III is temporary, short term. Elizabeth was diamond. William will be gold, maybe. George is a whole new future we can’t even begin to imagine. Charles is a passing monarch, warming up the seat for the next one. It took too long for him to get his crown, and he will not enjoy it too long.

He knows this, so he will act accordingly. King Charles III comes first no matter what.

This does not mean William is off the hook: he needs to sit down, strategize a lot more and do even more than what he does now. Talk less, do more.

Rant done, back to work.

P/S: when the BRF realizes they need to hire you to run them (yes, tell them what to do) please let me know. I’ll carry your purse around and get you coffee.

Have a great weekend!

Thanks for sharing!

You may be on to something. At the end of the day, everything must go through BP so if BP doesn't want KP to do something, well, then KP's hands are often tied. I do think the way William...not retaliates but maybe...defends himself? (I'm really at a loss for words here) is by refusing to do certain things that BP wants.

Like we know the Foreign Office wants William and Kate to travel more because they're the ones who bring the most favorable press coverage and they do their jobs uncontroversially, but William and Kate don't travel (or they aren't traveling), and I don't think it's because BP is blocking all the shots. I think it's because BP is blocking enough shots that when the opportunity does arise, KP isn't interested; too little too late.

But you are right, William (and Kate) do need to be thinking about strategy, if they aren't already, for the monarchy's future. They, more than Charles, are in a position where they'll be able to set the terms for what a 21st century monarchy looks like, very much the same way that George V and Queen Mary set the standard for a 20th century monarchy. (Right? They were the ones who turned the BRF to philanthropy and charity work?)