#also man do I wish there was a ‘don’t put this in tags’ feature on tumblr. I’m so sorry to anyone who looks up any of these series and this

[roseatedramon]

[this post will be deleted and moved to a new post on the pmdn blog eventually. keeping it so I don’t break the read more on the reblog atm though.]

continent for pmd au. rough outline for it was generated from this.

ANYWAY

There’s 4 regions. And a large mountain in the center, cutting one off from the others.

general explanations for region lore under the cut

Miseer (name derived from Misery)

- Where the Danganronpa characters come from

- It used to be a highly respected region, with an incredibly respected school… until the Great Tragedy (it probably also used to have a different name lol)

- The place is now a complete wasteland, destroyed and ravaged by corrupted Pokemon and non-pokemon monsters alike

- During the apocalyptic tragedy, a legendary/heroes/unsure cut it off from the rest of the continent with large mountain ranges, to keep the chaos contained

- The survivors from the region are currently working on restoration -

- There’s political strain between Miseer’s Restoration Group and the other regions. Many other regions see the place as a lost cause, and the Restoration Group is frustrated by the lack of assistance from them

- If I include it, School-Live goes here (School-Live isn’t a hyperfixation of mine but I found it interesting enough that I might include it anyway - be a nice way to flesh out this region outside of the Danganronpa cast)

- Any other series that take place in a post-apocalyptic or similar setting that get added will also take place here lol

Valior (name derived from Valor)

- Valior is a thriving region, but the barrier between them and Miseer is weak, with the mountain range being short and some caves that act as passage ways between them.

- As such, the region is the populated region most plagued by monsters and threats to the publics’ safety

- This area is the place where a majority of previously human Chosen Heroes are from. If a human is sent to this world, they’ll probably be sent here.

- That said, Chosen Heroes can be pokemon born, though it’s uncommon. Chosen Heroes tend to be assumed to be human though, and unless they show their worth, Chosen are generally treated suspiciously.

- The Explorer’s Guild is here, and the main form of “government”. The Explorer’s Guild is technically under Riddlo’s government. Rescue Teams and Exploration Teams pretty much are all within Valior, with only some in Preoma and almost zero in Riddlo.

- Series characters that come from here would be Digimon Adventure, Puella Magi Madoka Magica, and Kingdom Hearts

- If I include it, Dungeon Meshi also goes here

- If I include Amphibia, Sasha spawns here

Riddlo (name derived from Riddle)

- The farthest removed from Miseer, and hence the most populated, industrial, and technically advanced region. The region is full of large cities, with few smaller towns.

- The horrors that haunt this region are rarely horrific monsters or corrupted pokemon, but rather murder, organized crime, and corrupt police and government

- There is. A LOT of murder that happens here.

- This place is also the most powerful politically, and there is strain between here and

- The characters that come from here are Ace Attorney, AI: The Somnium Files, and Detective Conan

- Ghost Trick would also be here if I include it… Maybe also TWEWY? I also think Death Note would be fun as the case that brings all the above guys together

- If I include Amphibia, Marcy spawns here

Preoma (name derived from Preom)

- Most “normal” place tbh

- Mostly smaller towns, with some larger cities. There are still occasional monster attacks, but they’re relatively uncommon.

- This isn’t to say that there is no strange things going on here - in fact, this seems to be where the more… extraordinary monsters tend to lie

- Government tends to just be pretty small and local - though, they are unfortunately still under Riddlo’s control politically

- Series characters that come from here are Zombieland Saga, Equestria Girls, The Amazing Digital Circus, and Deltarune

- If I include it, Wordgirl is here too

- If Amphibia is included, Anne spawns here

——

GENERAL AU NOTES:

- There are monsters that are corrupted pokemon (called ‘Shades’ and ‘Shines’). They come in a variety of stages of severity, with some pokemon being able to live normally despite being technically “infected”. Others with more severe corruptions, however, can be turned into large undead monstrous creatures.

- There are non-sapient beasts and monsters that weren’t ever pokemon! These would be the monsters the Dungeon Meshi gang would eat lol…

- Torn on whether or not animals exist - leaning towards yes.

- Stories of series are generally similar to their canon, with a PMD spin to it. Some vary more than others, and some are actually based on my non-PMD AUs of their series.

- I’m legitimately invested in this universe now and may even make some OCs that are just original to this universe lol

- I do have a bit of a of something in mind if I do decide to include some of the series that are much more geared towards younger audiences in the way of like… separating them from the more mature stories. Like… please rest assured that if I do include Wordgirl, it would not involve Becky going to Riddlo and getting involved in a murder case lol. It will just be things of the general Wordgirl fare, with at most a bit more of a focus on mental health and the pressure that comes with being a child superhero.

- I can not emphasize enough how much this is all subject to change. Also how aware I am of how cringey this all is orz

[chaniceroses]

Bad Boys Ride or Die (Armando x Reader): Part One

Another day... another morning. Time seems to be passing you by without allowing you to catch up and you feel as if your life is slowly running its course. It’s been about an hour since you have woken up but since the sun is always aligned with your window before work, that’s how you knew it was time to get up and get ready. The birds chirping, neighbors mowing their yard and arguing. A continuous cycle that you sometimes wish would end. You laid there in your soft, silky sheet until you heard a knock at your door. Getting up, putting on your cheetah print robe, you slipped on your house shoes and walked over to your door.

“Who is it?” You asked, holding on to the door knob.

“It’s us, who else would it be?”, a familiar voice answered with a slight chuckle.

You sighed while unlocking the door, opening it to see two black males standing there making eye-contact. They were the ones “training” you for the detective spot.

“What do you guys want? You know this can’t be an everyday routine, right?”You laughed walking away towards your open kitchen. 

“Make sure you shut my door and lock it, I don’t need anyone else barging in.” You continued leaning against your counter-table.

“Get used to it y/n. Since we are training you, and you are going to be with us all of the time…we might as well hang over each other's houses and be friends.”,Mike answered taking a seat

“Mike, we haven’t done any training”. She’s basically a tag-along.” Marcus replied looking through his phone.

“Tag-along? Please don’t get me started..”, you scoffed looking at Marcus and then at Mike.

You stared into Mike’s dark brown eyes, while examining his body features. Mike Lowery is his name, a tall light-skinned black male with a goatee mustache, smooth skin-texture, soft plump lips, ears that kind of sticks out with a tiny earring that brings out his face. 

“Imma guess that you like what you see.”Mike smiled, walking up towards you. He towered over you. It made you feel some kind of way but then again nothing at all. You turned to look at Marcus, to see him shaking his head into his hands. 

“Hmm…no.”, you laughed, patting him on his chest and then walking towards your bedroom. “Give me an hour and then we can head out.”

“Forty-five minutes since you just pulled that bullshit.”, Mike replied sitting down next to Marcus while he laughed .

“Two words for you…Married. Man.”, Marcus recalled pointing to the ring that was on his finger.

“You’re right.”

You could hear their conversation the whole time however, you didn’t pay attention because there were other things on your mind regarding your job. You know it isn’t time to choose just yet and to make a decision that could change your life and your relationship with your “partners”, however you also know that the sand is slowly slipping. 

Time had passed and you were heading out when you noticed your living room window was slightly opened, you stared at it for a moment then walked over to shut it and left. Before you knew it, you were in the backseat of Marcus’s and Mike’s car on the way to work. This was their way of getting to know you better, training you and “being generous”.  However, the ride to the precinct slowly had put you in a trance, reminding you of your last conversation between you and Captain Howard before he was murdered…

“Captain!!!” You yelled walking up towards him. “Anything for me to do, check up on, investigate ... .alone”, you whispered, moving your focus from him to Marcus and Mike. Conrad Howard was his name and he was the one who had partnered you with Marcus and Mike since he considered them to be“ experienced” in what they do.

“What are you talking about y/n?”he asked, raising one of his eyebrows while folding his arms.

“Heyyyyy! Captain… what do you think about-” before Mike could finish his sentence, he was interrupted by Howard putting his finger up to Mike.

“Did he just-”

“He did.”, Marcus sighed looking at Mike, you and then at Captain

“I was just wondering…if you had any files that needed to be looked at. Or maybe if I need to go somewhere and investigate…something.”, you pleaded.

“I have one file that needs to be-”

“No Cap that wouldn’t be necessary. We can go to the range and practice our shots and ride around to ensure that everyone is safe.”Mike interrupted, looking at you and Marcus.

“I actually have some files to look at myself, Mike.”, Marcus shrugged, walking off towards his desk.

You looked at Mike and watched as he looked at you, then at Captain and left.

“He’s a guy who loves action. He’ll be okay however, I want to talk to you though, Walk with me?”Howard suggested pointing towards the hallway.

“Sure what’s up?”, you asked, keeping up the pace that he was leading.

“I was wondering if you have decided what you wanted to do. With your position here. I know that you don’t need the training but you know it's “protocols”. It’s not me.”, he explained looking through the papers that he was carrying.

You were taking in what he was saying. You entered the portal about a month ago since you came from a different district, however the point still stands. Different opportunities have been thrown at you when it comes to your career and where you are right now, since you’ve been in the game for years. You would think it would be easier however now it has left you stuck. Leaving the precinct and becoming an international agent, stay and be a detective or retire and finally have a family with someone you love, decisions…decisions.

“I haven’t decided yet, so many options and personal things to think about.”, you replied, walking at the same rhythm as your boss.

“Listen…between you and I. Go with what you think is the worst.”, he replied, stopping in his tracks.

“Excuse me?” you replied confusingly tilting your head.

  “You wouldn’t be confused with what you wanted to do, if it was the best option. So go with what you are avoiding.”, he answered, looking up at you through his glasses.

“Not to take advice from you, noted.”, you thought, turning your focus towards the meeting that was happening down the hallway.

“Look, it may not make sense right now but later it will. Trust me.”, he reassured walking towards the room that a meeting was happening in.

“We’re a huge family here. Even if we hate each other’s guts. And with Mike and Marcus… They like you, and I can tell that they’ve somewhat gotten attached to you…which never happens. So ignore the things that are said especially with whatever comes out of Mike’s mouth.”, He continued pointing at you then walking into the meeting.

You watched as Captain walked into the meeting while waving the files that he was looking at earlier.

 “They like me.”, you mocked, while turning around. “They don’t even know me.” you laughed walking back towards your desk.

You must’ve gotten lost in your thoughts because when you looked forward. Marcus was turned around in his passenger seat looking right at you.

“I’m sorry?”, you asked, looking at Marcus to Mike and back at Marcus.

“What do you have planned today?”Marcus asked, looking at you with confusion across his face.

“Um, I have office work that I need to catch up on. I guess I can do that today.”, you replied, grabbing your phone from your purse.

“Office work?”Mike and Marcus replied in unison. Pure disgust crawled across their faces. You thought to yourself if you said something wrong, or maybe if it was your body expression. 

“You’re telling me that you don’t want to get in any action. Hurt people ... .fight!”Mike yelled, paying attention to the road while also taking quick glances at me through the rearview mirror.

“Mike, not everyone loves violence but y/n you should want to get some type of action..y’know. Office work. Really?”Marcus added, looking at the pedestrians going on about their day.

“I mean, if I can avoid it then yeah, I wouldn’t want to deal with it but of course sometimes it just comes my way.”, you replied scanning through downloads on your phone.

“See…I’m not the only person that attracts danger.”Mike laughed while looking at Marcus.

The rest of the ride was pretty chill besides Mike and Marcus arguing over past events with Mike dating Marcus' sister and operations that nearly blew up in their faces and their sex life. After what felt like forever,  you made it to the precinct and were instantly met by the loud voices of cops everywhere and a huge meeting happening down the hallway.

You, Marcus and Mike stared at each other confusingly, trying to figure out what was going on until a police officer came up to stop in front of you.

“They’ve been in there for hours, no one knows what’s going on.”, the cop said, staring at Marcus and Mike and then back down the hallway.

You stared at the people that were in there, making eye-contact with someone who was sitting at the head of the table.

“I’m sure it's nothing. I’m going to my desk.”, you replied, turning to Marcus and Mike and then leaving. You knew it wasn’t just “ nothing” because since Captain Howard was killed barely anyone has used that meeting room unless there was a hostage situation, or something between those lines. However, there were people from different districts in there and paper was scattered everywhere. Everyone seemed obnoxious and worried.

After a couple twists and turns down the hallway, you made it to your desk and flopped down onto your seat to be greeted by paperwork that needed to be looked through.

“What is all this?”, you whispered, opening one of the files and looking through them.

Before you knew it, all you saw was a stack of papers flying across your face onto the table. You looked up in shock to see Mike standing there with a smile across his face.

“You said you wanted files so there you go.”Mike laughed standing behind you.

“What do you want Mike? Because I am not about to look through all of those files, I'd rather be around Marcus all day and listen to him complain about his sex-life.”, you replied sitting down at your desk.

“That’s not what you said earlier.” Mike replied.

“How do you even know that? Mike, you've been telling y/n about my sex life?”, Marcus snapped getting up from his desk.

“Hell no. I-”

“I was in the back of the car. Earlier… when you guys picked me up after coming to my house which has been everyday for the last month.” you interrupted straightening up the files.

“Oh.” Marcus replied, covering his mouth. “I mean that shouldn’t even be a problem, Mike and I go over each other’s places all of the time.” he continued looking at Mike and then back at you.

“Hold up, how did you guys even know where I lived?” you asked leaning back into your chair while making direct eye-contact with them.

You watched as Mike leaned against your desk, gave Marcus a “really” look and then back at you.

“You’re smarter than that so we’re going to pretend you didn’t just ask that question…okay sweetie.”, he replied in disappointment while looking at you.

“That was a blonde moment.”, you thought to yourself. “Well guys thank you for bringing me here but I have work to do.”, you continued pushing Mike’s files to the side.

“I guess I'll grab these and put them back on my desk then.”, he stated grabbing them and putting them on top of his table.

Marcus and Mike caught the social cues that you were giving them and started analyzing the paperwork that was on their desk. They were cool people to be around. Fun and wild but also annoying and extremely obnoxious. They made you nervous due to not being able to know their next move. You scanned across the room and watched how every single person lived their lives. Some looked completely stressed, others looked as if they hadn't slept in months and the rest seemed to be taking each day slowly.

You brought your eyes towards Mike to see him typing things into his computer. You watched how his veins showed through his hands and the way his shirt compressed onto his body. You turned to look at Marcus with his eyes already piercing into yours. He was staring the whole time.

“What?”, you asked looking back at him. You watched as he shrugged you off and went back to work.

The rest of the morning was filled with everyone trying to figure out what the meeting is about, and flashbacks of your last conversation with Captain Howard. You’ve only been in Miami for a couple months now after leaving from a different precinct, and very little has occurred. This will be a long year.

[heechwe]

three men & a crib | 𝖕𝖘𝖍

୨୧ pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 1.2k ୨୧ genre: fluff, comedy ୨୧ tags: established relationship, soontobedad!sunghoon, married!au, pregnant!reader. ୨୧ synopsis: Sunghoon is wasting time not building the furniture in the nursery, mainly the terrifyingly intricate crib his pregnant wife ordered. What else can he do besides call Jake and Jay to help him?

How did he end up in this situation? Sunghoon is staring down the cardboard box in his living room, armed with a handful of tools and an instruction manual that might as well have been written in an alien language.

“I can do it when I get home from the shower,” you told him two hours ago, pouting at the fact the crib still had yet to be constructed. The baby would be arriving in less than three months and there was still so much of the nursery that needed to be completed. The main piece being the place your child was meant to sleep.

Sunghoon shrugged off the idea. No way were you going to try building furniture when you should be focusing solely on relaxing. Your belly was too swollen at this point for Sunghoon to let you even carry in a heavy bag of groceries without assistance. What kind of husband would he be if he let you do manual labor in your condition?

“No, baby,” he said, kissing your forehead with reassurance. “I promise to finish it. Just focus on having fun today and when you get home it’ll all be done, you’ll see.”

With a sigh and a kiss to his lips, you were off with your mother to your baby shower. Heeseung’s wife Yunjin organized the entire day for you, and Sunghoon wouldn’t let something as simple as a piece of infant furniture get in the way of your good time.

But now, staring down the dismantled pieces of the crib, he’s starting to grow anxious at the thought of you coming home to his empty promises and utter disappointment. He reads over the first step of the instructions again, and the words practically bleed over and into each other on the page. Admittedly, Sunghoon was not well-versed in carpentry, but surely it shouldn’t be this hard to understand.

Whatever he has to do to figure it out, he won’t let you down. And he won’t look like an incompetent father because of some measly, complex instructions.

So, he does the next best thing he can: he calls in backup.

Jake and Jay sit next to Sunghoon on the living room floor, looking over the parts of the crib that they’ve agreed go together first and have to be constructed in the proper order. 

After forty-five minutes of assembly, the three men feel an acceptable amount of confidence they completed the crib.

Except for the fact there’s a random piece of wood sticking out in the center of the crib itself.

“I’m telling you the directions said that that was supposed to go there,” Jay insists, skimming the manual.

Sunghoon groans. “Tell me exactly Jay what the fuck that is supposed to do.” He emphasizes his argument by pointing directly at the block of wood in the middle of the crib.

“I don’t know, man, to keep the baby from moving?” Jay retorts.

“Okay, let’s just start over,” Jake says to both men, tired of their bickering already.

Just when the men think they’re getting somewhere, they read the next line of instructions and feel like idiots for putting this piece of wood with that screw.

“This might as well have been written in ancient Egyptian, man. Why did she have to buy the most annoying crib in existence?” Jay grumbles and flips through the manual again.

“She said it comes with a lot of safety features,” Sunghoon answers, taking apart the two pieces of wood that Jake put together initially. Sunghoon wishes he could go back in time and stop you from buying it in the first place. Of course he also wanted the best for your child, but did the damn bed need to come with so many bells and whistles for all of this hassle?

By the time Sunghoon dismantles the pieces and puts them back in an organized pile on the floor, Jake looks ready to give up and raid the fridge.

“We could just find the model online and order it assembled,” Jake suggests. A yawn leaves his lips, already fatigued at the minimal effort he put in.

“And say what to my wife?” Sunghoon asks with a scoff. “That I was too stupid to make it without help?”

Jay and Jake look at Sunghoon without a word, their stares saying enough.

“You know what I mean, assholes.” Sunghoon looks at the instructions over Jay’s shoulder again and grunts. “We are three strong and capable men. We can do this!”

Less than an hour later, Jake is on the manufacturer’s website. Thankfully, the model number was written in bold font on the front of the manual. And even better, crib assembly and one-day delivery is only an extra hundred dollars.

“I’ll name the next kid after you, man.” Sunghoon pats Jake on the back as the older one puts his card information into the order.

“Whatever. Just don’t expect me to not spill the beans if your wife asks me about this.”

Jay chuckles and helps Sunghoon put the pieces of the original crib back in the cardboard packaging.

Three hours later, two delivery guys come up the elevator with the crib to bring into Sunghoon’s apartment. It fits with the rest of the nursery, the color of the wood matching well with the decorations you had already put up for the baby’s arrival.

You walk into the apartment later in the day to find Sunghoon sitting at the couch waiting for you. You smile at him and immediately snuggle in close to his chest.

“How was the shower?” Sunghoon kisses the crown of your head as his hand runs across the center of your stomach. His warmth immediately calms you after the long day of greeting family and friends.

“Fun, but a lot. By the third hour I was over talking about breastfeeding.”

Sunghoon chuckles and kisses your cheek. Even now, after four years of marriage and a baby on the way, he still managed to make you feel like the same lovesick teenager you were when you first met. The feeling sank deep into your bones and made you even more sure that you picked the right person to spend forever with.

“Thank you for putting the crib together,” you say. You squeeze the hand that’s on your stomach with your own. “We appreciate you so much.”

Sunghoon smiles earnestly and kisses you on the lips. “And I appreciate you. None of this would be possible without you, you know.”

You grin. “Likewise.”

When you wake in the middle of the night later on, waddling to the nursery and admiring the quality of the crib, you chuckle quietly to yourself.

Sunghoon was completely unaware of how cute he looked in the Ring camera helping the delivery guys bring in the assembled crib. He also had no idea that you had watched from the comfort of Heeseung’s couch as the gentlemen, with Jake and Jay in tow, all shuffled into the apartment hours ago with the second crib.

Maybe the biggest lesson of parenthood was that sometimes it was better to work smarter and not harder. And regardless, Sunghoon would do anything to make sure you and your child were happy. What more could you ask for?

[kalliyen]

Brewing Romance

Pairing: Diluc x GN!Reader

Featuring: Diluc, Kaeya, Jean

Genre: Fluffff, Barista AU, Modern AU, College AU

Summary: barista au….un lang lol also diluc falls in love at first sight….yeah

Reader’s Pronouns: they/them

Warning: diluc is so down bad, kinda ooc mb…(not really) HES SO FINE WOOF WOOF slight kaebedo implied lawlwlwlwlw

Disclaimer: ⚠️ ONLY A WORK OF FICTION!

i. a change of pace

Diluc Ragnvindr wishes for a change of pace. Something different from his boring dull life as a college student who works part time at a nearby café.

It’s not like he needs the money or anything, his family is quite wealthy, but he decided to work for the experience. Also because his friend, Jean, forced him.

Not really forced him no, more like begged him to help her around the shop because they were very understaffed, and Diluc being the kind stoic soul he is, took pity in his friend and decided to accept her offer.

Unluckily for him, he didn’t know that his brother, Kaeya, also works at the café, if he asked Kaeya why, all he’d respond is with “To scout cute chicks!” But he knows Kaeya was just really ogling the blonde kid with bags in his eyes that sits in the back of the café, he noticed that Kaeya would always volunteer to give the man his order…..

ii. new face ?

It’s like as if the Anemo Archon himself heard his pleas for a new face, because a few days later he’s greeted with someone new.

Not like he recognizes every single costumer that comes and goes, but you stood out to him because damn….you were breathtaking.

When you walked up to the cashier he internally panicked, immediately putting Kaeya in his spot and disturbing his brother from ogling that blonde kid again.

“Hey?!! Bro what the hell was that for?!?!” Kaeya exclaims “Spot me. You take their order and I’ll make it. Alright?” Diluc states

Not getting another word in, and not wanting to question Diluc about his red face for now, he begrudgingly takes your order, still kind of looking at the blonde kid at the back (these brothers are so down bad what the hell 🔥🔥)

Diluc makes your order, still as red as his hair, because you ordered his favorite drink, and Jean noticed that he was making it with a smile on his face. ‘I guess he’s finally gone crazy.’ She thinks to herself.

Diluc hands you your order, looking down a bit, because he swear if he sees your beautiful presence again he might actually just combust.

You notice a ‘help wanted’ poster near the door and decide to ask him about it.

“Hey are you guys still looking for help? Cause I’d love to work part time here, if that’s alright.” You state. And Diluc’s brain actually stumbles into himself, he responds to you with “O-of course! We’d be happy to accept your h-help..You can ask the manager for the application form and she can schedule an interview with you” He finishes, and points to where Jean was.

“Thank you so much! Uhm….Diluc?” You read on his name tag. Taken aback, Diluc replies “O-of course! No problem. Happy to help.”

Kaeya was watching the whole scene from the cashier with a stupid smile on his face, god damn his brother was in for it hard.

iii. ARE YOU UP FOR THE CHALLENGE????? *vine boom*

On the day of your interview with Jean, you decided to dress up nicely and give it all you’ve got, like this is some big corporate job or something.

But hey, to you this was a big interview because god fucking damn did you need some spare cash, you don’t think you can live on processed food for another week even if you had to.

Jean doesn’t beat around the bush and immediately tells you that your hired, saying that you could start tomorrow.

Diluc over hears your interview and smiles to himself, he can finally work with someone he wants too!

iv. cupid works in mysterious ways

Even if you did work together, Diluc unfortunately does not have the same shift as you do. He works the lunch hours from 11 am to 3 pm, while you work from 8 am to 12 noon, which only alots one hour with you everyday, but he tried to make the best of those 60 minutes with you.

Though he was very nervous to approach you at first, he was the one tasked to help you work the coffee machine, and how the workflow goes.

Admittedly, he gets distracted by you sometimes, he just can’t help himself. The way your hair is kept neatly so it doesn’t get it your face, the way the apron hugs you form, making you seem more beautiful than you already were.

It’s not like you were stupid or anything, you weren’t oblivious to the obvious ogling Diluc does whenever he works with you. It brings a wave of heat to your cheeks, because to have such attractive man have eyes for you? You’d almost believe that you were the mc of a fan fiction or something.

Jean obviously noticed the tension you two would emit whenever you worked together, and how Diluc hesitated to greet you goodbye when your shift was over. So she arranged a new schedule for him, to be on the same work shift as you.

They weren’t as understaffed as before, having a good handful of employees that recently applied. Mostly because they wanted to check out the two hot brothers that worked at front. But hey, whatever keeps the business going am I right?

Before Diluc leaves by the end of his shift, double checking if he’s cleaned the machine thoroughly, Jean calls him into her office, Diluc obliges, not thinking much of it.

“Is there a particular reason you called me here Jean?” Diluc asks, while closing the door of her office. “Don’t worry Diluc, it isn’t anything dire. Just a slight change in your work hours.” She says while fixing the papers on her desk.

At this, Diluc’s ears perk up, “My shift? Change? What for?” To be closer with you, he hopes.

“I’ve decided for you to have the same shift as y/n, I sense that you have no opposition to this? Seeing as you enjoy your time on the job whenever they are present.” Jean states like it was to be expected. “Of course, I don’t have any oppositions. You are the manager after all.”

v. latte (he)art

To say you were surprised to see Diluc at work that early the next day was an understatement. You were ecstatic. “Diluc? what are you doing at work so early?” You ask, a smile threatening to form on your lips, trying your hardest to hold yourself back at the sight of him.

“Jean decided to change my shift, so I could work the morning hours, since that’s our busiest time.” And to spend more time with you, Diluc wants to say, but decides against it.

“Really? That’s great!” You start with a smile on your face. “Oh and uhm, I actually really needed your help with something. You know the latte art? Yeah I’m learning to do that now but it’s really hard, Kaeya tried to teach me but he completely gave up, I swear he just works here to ogle that blonde kid at the back”

“Of course I’d help you y/n, it’d be my pleasure.” Diluc says with a smile on his face. He looked very pretty when he smiled, you thought.

You and Diluc spent a few hours and countless cups of coffee, trying to get you to create an actually presentable output. But you just couldn’t seem to get the hang of it.

Profusely apologizing over and over again, But Diluc didn’t seem to mind, having been patient with you this whole time. He decided it was best for you both to have a slight break from the latter art.

But then you felt something warm on your hands, a cup of coffee and Diluc’s warm fingers, seeming to engulf your own.

You looked down at the cup of coffee, and then up at him, noticing that the cup held a cute heart in it, which made your own heart soar with happiness.

“Let’s take a break yeah? We can learn once you’ve collected yourself. Just enjoy this cup I’ve made for you for now.” Diluc hands you the cup, while leaving a loving yet hesitant kiss to your forehead.

———————

gbye i didn’t know how to end this……anyways enjoy 🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪

[unmaskthewriter]

You’re A Great Man, Arthur Morgan: Part Two {Sean Macguire x F!Reader}

Summary: Arthur was always a ghost of a person, but now that he’s gone, the grief will remain. The only family left is the one you’ve made for yourself. Part One is HERE.

A/N: A few of you have requested and I delivered! I will be tagging you so that you see the update :) also, the first half takes place in Yukon as that’s where the Marstons go first several years before purchasing Beecher’s Hope. I don’t make it clear but they share a house in Canada, but are neighbors at Beecher’s Hope ~ @photo1030 @12timetraveler

I do not give permission for any of my work to be copied, published and/or translated on any platform including Tumblr.

Word Count: 1517

Warnings: angst, mention of criminal activities and canon character death

January, 1900; Yukon, Canada

You lay in bed, beads of sweat slowly trailing down the side of your face. Tears threaten to spill from your eyes as Abigail returns to your side, carefully handing the baby to you. The baby was wrapped in a beautiful blanket made by Abigail herself.

“It’s a boy.” She tells you as you carefully move the blanket aside, looking over your son’s features. A head full of reddish brown hair, and blue-green eyes.

God, how you wished Arthur could be here.

The baby yawned as the front door to the home burst open. Quickly, Sean and John entered, shutting the door behind them before the cold wind could blow inside. Unfortunately you had gone into labor a week early, and Sean was in town working when John had called for him.

“Where’s me girl?” Sean shrugged off his jacket by the front door, and began searching each room until arriving at yours. He froze at the door to the bedroom, holding his snow-brimmed hat over his chest.

“Oh lass…” He spoke softly, forcing one foot in front of the other until he reached your bedside. Carefully, you handed the babe to your fiancé. Sean admires the babe in his arms, checking for all ten fingers and toes.

“He’s so beautiful,” Sean whispered, “Hell… if it weren’t for Arthur we wouldn’t be ‘ere… my boy.” Sean tells his son, letting the babe’s tiny fingers curl around his one.

“Have you thought of any names yet?” A familiar voice questions. You look to see John standing in the doorway with young Jack.

“Traditionally, we would name him after me Pa-“

“Not this again.” Abigail muttered, holding her head in her hand.

“Ye of little faith, Abigail!” Sean chuckled, looking at the young woman, “We already chose a name. A strong one.” Sean stands with the babe in his arms, looking back down to him, “Artúr Macguire.”

“That’s a wonderful name. John, perhaps we should give them some time with their son?” Abigail suggested before leading her boys out of the room.

Later that night, you stood over the bassinet as Artúr slept peacefully. Sean came up behind you, wrapping his arms around you ever so gently.

“I meant what I said earlier, darlin’. If it weren’t for ya’ brother… I wouldn’t be ‘ere… I’ll always be grateful for that ol’ grouch.” Sean mentioned, emitting a small laugh from you.

“He was a bit of a grouch but he had his reasons,” You add, placing your hands over his, as his chin rested on your shoulder. A moment passes and your eyes divert to the worm satchel bag hanging from the edge of the bassinet. “When he comes of age, he will know what Arthur did for us, for him.”

1910; Beecher’s Hope

If you had asked yourself ten or so years ago if you would ever work on a ranch, the answer would be no. You were used to moving from one heist to the next, never truly considering tomorrow, only living in the moment. Despite that, John had bought a piece of property outside of Blackwater of all places, and built a ranch from the ground up with help from Charles, Sean and Uncle, but mostly Charles and Sean.

It is Artúr’s birthday.

You sit on the edge of the bed you share with Sean, the sun having barely crept up over the horizon. The room was still dark, the candles having been put out hours ago. In your hands, a journal with worn edges and pages. You felt knots in your stomach as the opened satchel sat beside you. In the ten years of having possession of it, you didn’t dare open it and seek its contents. The satchel alone was haunting you, to have something that belonged to your brother before he…

died.

You remember when Charles took you to his grave for the first time, back when the ranch was first built. Abigail had offered to watch Artúr, giving him some time to play with Jack whilst you were away with Charles.

“Oh, Charles.” You whisper, slowly dismounting the horse. His grave was facing the west, in the direction of the setting sun. Flowers adorned his grave. Etched into the wood, it stated: “Arthur Morgan: “Blessed Are Those Who Hunger And Thirst For Righteousness”. You are reminded of an earlier conversation back at one of the earlier campsites with Tilly, Hosea, Lenny and Arthur.

“When I die, I just want to be buried with friends.” Hosea admitted plainly. It made sense for him, such a simple man considering your shared lifestyle.

“Me too,” Lenny joined in, “with friends, or with family. I don’t think it matters more than that.”

“What about you, Arthur?” Hosea looked up from where he was sitting to meet your brother’s gaze.

“Me? Ah, I don’t care about that nonsense.” Arthur brushed it off, his hands resting on his weapons belt on his waist.

“Come on.” Hosea urged, taking a sip of his coffee. A moment passes as Arthur presses his lips together, thinking for a moment.

“Face me to the west, so I can watch the setting sun… and remember all the fine times we had that way.” Arthur explained.

“See, Tilly, I told you Arthur had a soul.” The old man jokes and you smile.

Your hands shake as your fingers rest on the outside of the journal. You blink away tears, wiping your eyes with the collar of your nightgown. As you prepare for the day, you can’t help but keep looking at the satchel. You hated how upset it made you, that no matter the time that’s passed, grief still had its hold on you. As the rest of the house slowly woke from their slumber, you had begun to set the table for breakfast. Sean and Artúr come downstairs, dressed for the day. Hanging on the edge of a chair was the all too familiar satchel.

“Good mornin’ love.” Sean greeted, coming behind you with a kiss to the cheek. You smiled and turned to face your son who was walking towards the table. It was adorned with a variety of hot food.

“Oh, happy birthday, my son.” You approached him and welcomed him with a hug.

“Happy birthday! Are ya excited for later?” Sean gently ruffled his son’s hair.

“Paaa, stooop!” Artúr laughs, pulling away. Sean only stands beside him with a proud grin.

“What’s later?” You question, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I’m taking ‘im out on his first hunt. I thought I mentioned it. John and Jack will be joining us.” Sean explained with a tone of excitement.

“Perhaps you did… I feel like my mind has been miles away…Sit, both of you. We should eat before the food gets cold.” You insist, sitting at the table beside your now husband. Everyone eats, discussing the plans for the day. After the hunt, the Marstons would be joining you all for dinner to celebrate Artúr’s birthday.

“I have something I want to give you.” You tell him, your breath is shaky. Sean takes your hand, squeezing gently as to reassure you.

“Before you were born, your Pa and I lived a… bad lifestyle. We were criminals, Artúr. Towards the end, very bad men were coming after us, and my brother, your uncle Arthur… s-saved us…” You explain as you blink away tears, carefully reaching for the satchel and placing it on the table in front of your son. Sean lifted your hand, placing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“It belongs to ya now, son. Your uncle would have wanted you to have it..” Sean added, watching as Artúr opened the bag carefully. He pulls out the journal, along with a few other various items Arthur had collected over the years. As Artúr opens the journal, a single photo falls out. Artúr examines it closely, flipping over to look at the back.

“Oh, Ma, I think this is for you.” Artúr extends the photo to you, and you carefully take it. Sean scoots closer to look at it with you. The photo was of the entire gang standing on the porch of an unfamiliar shop. You and Arthur stood alongside each other, while Sean stood a bit aways.

“Oi, there’s me beautiful face!” Sean laughed, pointing to himself in the photo. You flip the photo over.

“Nothin’ means more to me than this gang. I would kill for it. I would happily die for it. I wish things were different, but it weren’t us who changed. We can’t change what’s done, we can only move on” - A.M

You let out a stifled cry, smiling as you look back at the photo before handing it to your son. He looks over the photo once more.

“My uncle was a good man, wasn’t he?”

“A great man, son.” Sean corrected, his eyes glistening with tears as you both listened as Artúr began to read through the journal aloud.

“I bought this new journal after the last one got destroyed in that fire all those months ago, whenever it was…”

[hyperfixated-gvf]

Baby, It's Cold Outside

On the third day of Tropemas, hyperfixated-gvf gave to me:

A One-Bed fic with whiny sub!Jake, and it's a Neighbor's AU, too!

Christmas Song Pairing: “Christmas Eve" by Justin Bieber

Trope: One Bed

~~~

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader

Warnings: Language, smut, F. Dom, M. Sub, pet names, a tiny bit of restraint, a single tear, begging, oral sex (f. receiving)

Words: 4.4k

Author's Note: Thank you all for your kind words and generous reblogs, tags, and comments, they mean the world to me! They're also addictive, just so you know ;) Anyways, this one got away from me a bit, so I've decided that each boy will have one longer smut piece and the others will be short and under my self-imposed word limit. Except for Danny. My love gets all the long smut.

18+ / MINORS DNI

~~~

“Mom, I frew up.”

You almost slammed the door on Jake’s face when he tiredly looked at you with his mournful, moony eyes, but the fact that his own joke only made his lips twitch told you that he actually had a reason to be at your apartment door at 1:45 am. 

The twins were good neighbors. Relatively, at least. You could sometimes hear them arguing through the wall, and other times, you had to send them a text to get them to stop playing their instruments into the wee hours of the morning. Your little duplex townhouse walls weren’t all that thick, but other than the occasional noise complaint that they always dutifully listened to, you were glad to have the happy-go-lucky musicians next door. With how many game nights you’d had and beers you’d shared, you’d even go as far to say that you were friends.

So, you sighed and leaned against the frame, looking at the man expectantly. “What do you need, Jake? This beauty needs her sleep.”

Jake nodded back to his own place, making a face that was both pitiful and disgusted at the same time, which was quickly explained when he said, “Josh brought someone home, and usually some headphones will fix it, but…oh god, please don’t make me describe my trauma.” 

He shivered in the cold December air, and that’s when you realized that he didn’t have shoes on and the only clothes protecting him from the wind were his threadbare sleep shirt and equally frayed plaid pajama pants. All in all, he looked like a little puppy, trembling from the cold and without a place to sleep for the night.

You were no monster; there had been enough nights in your life as a roommate where you wish you didn’t have ears at all that you recognized and acknowledged his pain, but the thing was, you weren’t sure what he wanted you to do about it.

“I won’t. But I..sorry, I’m just not sure what this has to do with me.”

Trying to make it as gentle as possible so that you didn’t put him off, there was really no roundabout way to go about the question. Especially not when its answer would get you both out of the cold.

Jake furrowed his brows in confusion. “Oh. Sorry, I just thought, you know, maybe I could use your guest room? I mean, if you’re comfortable with that,” he said quickly. “We’ve been neighbors for a couple years now, but I don’t want to assume anything. I would rather ask and get rejected though, than try than have to deal with that,” he said venomously, looking back at his place with that same pronounced frown on his face.

You appreciated his attempts to make it your decision but, again, there was just one problem. “I don’t have a guest room,” you explained, grimacing as his face fell. The situation must have been dire if he was that downtrodden after finding out that your second bedroom was an office since…well, since it was just you living there. “But…my couch does double as a futon. It’s not super comfortable, but if you wanted to crash there, I guess, feel free.”

Pure relief spread across his features, and you opened the door wider to allow him in, cursing yourself for not just bringing him in at the beginning and saving you both some body heat. “Anything,” he muttered, quite seriously.  “Literally anything else but what I was dealing with over there. She sounded like a fucking banshee giving birth. And there’s no way my hobbit brother is that good with his dick.”

You snorted, retrieving some sheets from a bin in your hallway closet. “Your hobbit brother… that’s also your twin? That one?” Jake bobbled his head, but didn’t say anything as he began to tug at the back of the couch to free the bed. “Also, it doesn’t have to be his dick,” you pointed out, but Jake shook his head violently at your revelation.

“No. No, no, nope, no thank you I am finished thinking about that twerp in any way, shape, or form for the night.” His words were less convincing when they shook like a dog’s growl as it played tug o’ war. He seemed to be losing the fight with the couch, and you stood there, shamelessly admiring his form in half-amusement and half-serious appreciation.

He had a backside that was better than yours, and after all the years of being ogled at by men as you went about your daily tasks, you figured the universe could look away this one time.

“Oh shit!” he yelped, falling back on that perfect ass as the couch came half-loose with a pop, a grind, and then the tinkle of tiny, flimsy metal screws hitting your floor.

You both stayed quiet for a moment, staring at your mutilated couch that was now propped up on one end and slanted in a way you were certain it wasn’t supposed to slant. And didn’t seem all too eager to go either back down or all the way out, no matter how much you half-heartedly pushed at it.

“I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N,” Jake said defeatedly after a moment. The apology was clear in his voice, and you knew this was bound to happen sooner or later; the couch was, after all, a remnant from your college days. Even then, it had been a curbside find that you and your roommate had tied to the roof of your car with borrowed bungee cords. “I’ll buy you a new couch.”

While you wouldn’t decline the help, it obviously wasn’t his fault entirely, so you shrugged and returned the blankets to their place in the closet. “Don’t beat yourself up for it. Contribute a fourth of the cost to a discount couch from Facebook Marketplace and I’ll let you off the hook, destructo,” you joked, turning around to face him again. Now that the couch option was gone, Jake was clearly unsure of where he stood, staying at your place.

“Your bed doesn’t happen to be a bunk bed, right?” he asked dryly, knowing that it wasn’t from the very few times he’d seen it. It got a small chuckle out of you as you thought about your options, considering a few different solutions when Jake sped the process up. “Well, sorry to bother you, Y/N. Thanks for letting me almost-crash here. I’m gonna…go bash my brains out.”

It was obvious he wasn’t fishing for anything else – he was genuinely expecting to go back to his flat of sin without another thought to finding a different solution, but you quickly took the few steps to get to him before he took off and met his questioning gaze. “Wait, Jake. Just…it’s late. Stay here, we can share the bed.”

Neighbor friends could totally innocently share a bed. Call it the proverbial cup of sugar. 

His eyes grew saucer-wide, and he jerked his head back slightly at the suggestion as if you’d just proposed he buy a leather flogger and build a dungeon. “Are you sure?”

You looked at him, completely deadpanned. The late hour was getting to you, and you just wanted to make it to bed before the sun came up again. “No, I was pulling your chain.” Jake smiled sheepishly as you continued, “Yes, dumbass, I’m sure. I offered, after all. And in the name of complete platonic-ness, either join me in bed or sleep in the street. Up to you.”

He obviously chose to follow you into your bedroom, and since both of you were already in your pjs, you slipped under the blankets as if it was the most natural thing ever. “Thank you again, Y/N,” Jake whispered, once you’d flicked the lamp off. 

“I’d say any time, Jake, but if you wake me up at this god-forbidden hour again because your brother is having sex, I’ll move.”

You heard his huff of laughter at your empty threat and you smiled, too, already starting to drift into that hazy state between sleep and consciousness. The fan and low brown noise you had playing from phone was enough to drown out the strangeness of someone else in the room with you – the extra intakes and exhales of breath, the scratch of blankets, the dip of the mattress – and you would have been totally content to fall asleep then.

If it weren’t for Jake’s incessant moving. 

The first time he shifted, it was fine – didn’t even register. But then he rolled over again. And again. And again.

“Jake,” you groaned, flopping your hand behind you without a care for where it landed. “Stop fucking moving.”

“Sorry,” he responded softly, voice a little higher than normal.

That would have been that, but then it wasn’t rolling over, but he was obviously still moving, and you could feel it. You might have had a Queen-sized mattress, but that didn’t mean you weren’t unconsciously hyper-aware of someone else in your bed when you were used to sleeping alone.

“Oh my god, Jake,” you exclaimed exasperatedly, turning your lamp on and abruptly rolling over to see just what the problem was. “What is wrong? Are you sleeping on a pea or something, princess?”

In the dim light from the wax melter candle plugged into your wall, Jake stiffened, and he didn’t answer.

Thinking your words came out too harshly, you sighed. “Sorry. I’m not mad, I’m just trying to sleep. Seriously, though, what’s wrong? Do you need to cuddle to get to dreamland or something?” you joked lightly in an attempt to clear the air.

“That wouldn’t be a good idea.”

Jake’s answer was so soft, you nearly didn’t hear him. But once his words registered, you furrowed your brow, confused and a little offended that he couldn’t even crack a joke back, because now you felt a little embarrassed of your joking suggestion. “Okay. Because one of us is a ticking time bomb or something? I wasn’t being serious, Jake.”

The offense must have shown through your thinly-veiled attempt to hide it, because Jake was silent for a second, and then croaked out, “I wouldn’t want you to hate me.”

Now laying down again, facing away, your confusion outgrew your offense, and once again, you rolled over, seeing that Jake had remained stiff as a board with his back to you. “Why would I hate you?” you asked genuinely, less edge to your voice.

But Jake didn’t answer. Didn’t have to, because when he shifted again, the movement originating from his hips and obviously something Jake was trying to suppress. You finally took in the way he was scrunched up, knees pulled to his chest and arms tucked where you couldn’t see them. You recognized that position, from one past boyfriend that always seemed to get an erection at the worst possible times.

“Are you…” you let the sentence trail off, and Jake sighed out a shaky breath.

“I’m not a creep, I promise,” he said with conviction, if a little shakily. Out of nerves, arousal, or fear, you didn’t know, but you felt bad for him all the same.

Sometimes it happened – you knew that. It was basic anatomy. It was also basic anatomy to understand why the blankets started feeling a little warmer, and why you began to get the same impulse to shift your hips as Jake seemingly had. There was a very attractive man in your bed, hard and a little vulnerable because of it, that you admittedly had experienced fleeting thoughts of desire for.

“Jake,” you said softly, breaking the tense silence. “I don’t think you’re a creep. And I also don’t want you to think I’m a creep.”

Jake peeked over his shoulder at you, straining his neck to catch a glimpse. “What? Why would I? I’m the one who got in your bed and– and fucking immediately got an erection.”

“Mmmhh,” you hummed, acknowledging the truth of his statement. “But I’m the one who’s having filthy thoughts about it.” When you heard his swallow harshly, you delivered the final blow. “And I’m the one about to offer to help you take care of it. If you want, of course,” you assured lowly. “If not, you can use the bathroom and we’ll never speak of it again.”

You waited on bated breath for Jake’s response, and he finally responded, his voice breaking in the middle of the word, “Please.”

Excitement lit up your extremities, and you tingled with a newly-found energy as you rubbed your thighs together, your body’s natural response now magnified tenfold with the promise of action. “Thank you Jesus,” you breathed, waiting for Jake to turn around. “Come on, Jake. Show me what we’ve got.”

He hadn’t so much as touched his shoulder blade to the mattress when you pushed the covers off, licking your lips at the tent in his pants. “Are you sure I’m not dreaming?” Jake asked, watching you watch him with a predatory gleam in your eye. “Because I’m pretty sure this has happened before, but I woke up with a mess to clean in the end. It wasn’t fun.”

You chuckled and gently put your hand to his cheek. “I dunno. Does this feel real to you?” You planted your hands on his chest and swung your leg over his hip. Once you settled your weight over his cock, a broken noise escaped his lips, and his hands came up to rest shakily on your thighs, flexing up into the friction. “Feels pretty real to me.”

“Pretty damn real,” he repeated, gulping down air and squeezing his eyes shut.

Shifting your hips so as not to torture the poor man, you watched him accept your gifts, and eventually his face relaxed as he let you work. “Good. I have to ask, though: what got you so worked up in the first place?”

Perhaps it wasn’t the best time to peel your shirt off, not when you wanted an answer. But the unwavering attention that Jake payed the slight sway of your breasts, moving with the little shifts of your body, was a suitable second prize. You upped the stakes again, though, splaying your hands out under his shirt and working it off, as well. The growing wetness between your legs was already beginning to demand more, and you didn’t intend to keep either of you waiting for long.

So instead of insisting on an answer, you got off and relished in the small whine that came from the man who blinked sluggishly at the loss of your weight and heat against him. But when you unceremoniously stripped your pants off and then smacked his hands away from his own drawstrings, you said, “No. My house, my rules, Jake. And the rule here is that I get to unwrap all the gifts you’ve brought me tonight. Such a good guest,” you cooed, dragging his plaid pants down until his cock sprung back up, bobbing with a shiny tip that was begging to be sucked.

Not one to keep yourself from what you wanted, you bent down and thumbed across the skin of his hip at the taste of salty precum, spreading across your tongue as you swiped and swirled it around his head, pulling off with a pop as soon as he gasped and bucked his hips up. “Please don’t stop,” he asked, so polite even worked up as he was.

“But you never answered my question,” you laughed with a shake of your head, mounting him again and spreading your cunt so that you could rub your clit along the length of his cock for your own relief. He moaned quietly and took what you gave him, no attempts to change the pace, the pressure, the movement – nothing. “You’ve been so good for me otherwise, Jakey. Answer me, and then I’ll get you all suited up so that I can fuck you. Get you the good relief you deserve.” He struggled to keep his volume down, but you saw the way his lips trembled. “What got you so worked up?”

He was apparently more desperate than he let on, though, because when he was able to find his voice, it was a weak little whimper that sent another wave of arousal through you; so much that it made your head spin with want. “The sheets,” he whined, fisting them in his palms. “They…they smell like you. And when you— you…” 

With your grinding becoming nearly too slippery to continue, you knew you had to fuck him soon before he came from this alone. “When I what?” you asked, climbing off of him to retrieve a condom.

You wiped him off for safety and then made sure the latex was securely on before you poised him at your entrance, waiting for his final answer.

Jake watched your with hooded, hazy eyes, desperation written out on his features. “I liked it when you called me princess,” he admitted quietly.

You smiled victoriously, sinking down on him until his balls were pressed against your ass in one go, and you felt him twitch inside of you. “That’s so sexy, princess,” you admitted. “Thank you for telling me.” Your eyes closed as you stretched yourself out on his cock, beginning to bounce on him. The resulting audio was almost better than the visual. You wouldn’t have pegged Jake as one to beg in bed, but he had been brushing off all the subconscious labels you’d attached to him since arriving.

“Holy shit,Y/N, oh god, your pussy is–” he cut himself off with a grunt as you slid your hands up his arms to his wrists to pin his hands to bed, watching as he immediately clutched at the pillows above where they lay, immovable with your weight resting on them. “Hold me down,” he cried out. “I– ah-h– please, please, please, fuck me harder,” he whined, shifting his hips up as you came down, the explicit sounds of skin meeting skin slapping out into the silence. 

“Yeah?” you panted, loving the way you had front-row seats to every face his features morphed into as you experimented with him – taking notes of what made him tick. “You like it when you can’t move, princess? When you can only lay there and take it?”

He nodded, eyes rolling to the back of his head when you lurched forward on your thrust down, taking him for the ride of his life. “I’ll take anything you give me, beautiful,” he breathed, straining against your hold as he got closer to finishing. “I don’t mind it a little rough.”

“Good to know.” You leaned down and let your hips slowly grind in circles as you pinched the skin where his neck met his shoulder between your lips, nipping it before saying, “Keep your hands there, and don’t make me tell you twice.”

Jake agreed willingly. “Anything.”

Your nails scraped lightly down the undersides of his arms to his chest, where you dug them in to make little crescent marks and continued your quest to make him cum harder than he ever had before. “Fuck,” you moaned on an exhale, trying to find your own g-spot with Jake’s dick. “You’re so good for me. Who knew that Jake Kiszka, rockstar extraordinaire, was such a whiny little princess in bed?” you chuckled, looking down at his red face, his shiny, open lips, his hooded eyes, looking at you like you hung the moon. Just to drive the point home, you combed your fingers through his hair, scratching lightly along his scalp until you reached the back, where you tightened your grip to make Jake shout and arch back, exposing his throat to you. “That’s it,” you cooed. “Let go for me. Give it up. Cum inside me.”

He was obviously holding himself back, and he told you why when he panted out, “What about you? I wanna– I– please, please don’t make me cum yet,” he begged, squirming underneath you but still not letting his hands dip below where you’d put them and told him to stay. “I want to feel you cum with me! I don’t want to cum yet, I don’t want to be a bad fuck– I always make them cum,” he claimed, still thrashing, trying to get way from the steady pleasure tightening his balls and making him leak, getting him harder and harder and harder. “I can make you feel so good, Y/N, just let me– let me– shit, FUCK no no no no noooo—” he moaned, long and low and pitiful. 

His pleasure manifested throughout his entire body and he lost control for a second, jerking and spasming as he filled the condom to the brim. His teeth were bared as he drew breaths in to fuel the sobs and grunts that came out, his arms moved listlessly against the sheets in a sacreligious snow angel, and you could feel his legs twisting and bucking as you continued to ride him into oblivion. 

You finally slowed once a single tear fell from his eye. Wiping it away, you sucked the pad of your thumb into your mouth, watching his chest and stomach heave with a deep-seated satisfaction running through your veins. Still buzzing with excitement and arousal, you finally leaned down to kiss him, grinning as he kissed back desperately, vying for your every touch, word, and request and pliable with the desire to please you.

“So needy, Jake – crying because I wouldn’t let you help me cum. But don’t worry, princess,” you murmured, smoothing his hair back away from his fucked-out face. “I still intend to collect my pleasure. And these perfect little Cupid’s bow lips are going to get me there.”

He kissed your fingertips as you skated them across his mouth, whispering, “Thank you,” and then pushed himself up on his forearms, moving to crawl between your thighs. And as incredible as that would be to see, you stopped him with a palm in the center of his chest, pressing him down to the mattress once again. 

You shook your head. “Ah, ah. I quite like seeing you on your back for me,” you said, licking your lips. “You’re so pretty splayed out like this.”

Jake made a strangled noise and didn’t protest even for a second. “Works just fine for me, beautiful. Come here; let me show you how grateful I am for taking such good care of me tonight.”

He tugged at your hip and you went willingly, turning around so that you could see every shift, flex, and squirm of his body as you positioned yourself over him, hovering just above his face. You hummed. “Ready for me?” His response was to pull you down against him, and your clit throbbed as soon as it got friction again, making you sigh. “That’s it, princess, show me what that mouth can do. I want to feel how thankful you are that I let you into my bed,” you said breathlessly, starting to move and ride him again, this time higher up his body, but just as good. “That I was so understanding when you couldn’t control that cock of yours and that I used it so that you could get off.”

Even though you hadn’t established it (and you really should have), you lifted off of him when he tapped you, making sure he could breathe. But he didn’t take that time to take any deep breaths, only to say, “Don’t forget about the couch,” before licking into you again.

You smiled at his reminder, and reached back to grip his hair again. His whine traveled  throughout your pussy and made him sucking on your clit just that more enjoyable afterwards, sensitive from the vibration. He was quickly torn away from you as you bore down with more pressure, feeling your clit brush his bottom lip and then his tongue as he stuck it out for you to use for your pleasure. “You’re right. We can figure out a proper consequence later, though. You were begging to make me cum; I don’t think I should reward you for breaking my shit.”

With him manipulating that particular muscle, you quickly approached the peak you’d caught sight of while riding his dick, and you didn’t stop this time. You did, however, reach down to take his sensitive cock in your hand, roughly pumping it up and down until he cried out into your cunt, just to see him twist in overstimulated pleasure. 

“Come on, Jake, get me there, just a little bit more,” you directed, feeling your orgasm balloon inside of you. “Yes, Jake, yes, yes, yes– there you go-ooo, princess. Just what you wanted,” you keened, keeling over as you lost the strength to stay upright. You let Jake lap at you for a little while longer, shivering as he gently brought you down by avoiding your clit, but laving attention on the rest of your pussy. He cleaned you up like that, gathering all the excess slick on his tongue and swallowing it down. 

You were sure that he’d suck on you until you told him to stop, but eventually, you dismounted him, your stomach clenching as Jake made a small noise of complaint as his oral fixation was taken away. 

“Come here,” you sighed, opening your arms for him. You weren’t about to let him go to sleep without proper aftercare. It only took a small roll for Jake to plaster himself against you, legs tangling with yours, his fingers skirting across your skin as he wrapped his arms around you, and a sigh that puffed out warm against your throat as he relaxed into your embrace.

This time, when your fingers made their way to his long locks, you were gentle in petting him, softly massaging the back of his neck as your other hand rubbed comforting circles on his lower back. “I think I lied,” you said sleepily, and Jake made a questioning noise against your skin. “I think I want you to come here every time your brother has sex from now on. Okay?”

Jake placed a lazy kiss to your neck. “Is it okay if I don’t wait for Josh to sex? Who knows when the next time he gets lucky enough that someone looks down and sees him will be,” he giggled, fully aware that he was only a half-inch taller. 

You smiled, warmth spreading through your limbs. “Mmmm. Yeah, princess. You come over whenever you want to. I’ll keep the bed warm.” With one last kiss to his brow, you closed your eyes. 

Thank goodness for your shitty college couch.

~~~

Tag list:

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[your-talos-is-problematic]

WIP Wednesday!

Thank you to the wonderful @skyrim-forever for tagging me! I’m off my game with these a bit so the only person I can think to tag is @trickstarbrave. Also I’ll take this post to announce that the old username’s back lol :P my mom finally put the Christmas decorations away.

This is a bit of my Baldur’s Gate/Skyrim crossover featuring Afonya, Astarion, and the Thieves’ Guild. Most of this was written in a Covid-induced fit of writing lol. Hope to finish it soon!

————————————————————————

11:59 PM

Talen-Jei

The figure stood, crouched, on a street in Riften, at midnight. They were dressed in all black, with their face covered, and were holding a knife in their left hand and a lockpick in their right. So you couldn’t really blame Talen-Jei for thinking they were breaking into his inn.

You also couldn’t blame Talen-Jei for being outside in the middle of the night, which his fiancée would inevitably try to do. The unfortunate smell that lingered around Riften had made it hard for him to sleep, so he went out to clear his head. Which was not something the thief was making it easy for him to do. He sighed and drew a dagger, inching slowly towards the figure, who slowly walked over to and crouched in front of the door of a house close to the Bee and Barb.

Standing there quietly for a few seconds revealed that the thief seemed to be struggling with the lock. It also allowed him to notice some damning details- they were relatively short, had a curl of dark hair falling out of their mask, and the points of elvish ears pointed underneath their hood. They shook out their hands after breaking a second lockpick, turning around to meet eyes with Talen-Jei at the same time he was about to call out to them.

He let out a sigh. “Afonya.”

“Talen-Jei,” she said, straightening up and moving in front of the door as if that would excuse her of anything. Her mask curved into what was likely a smile, given the Dunmer’s usual demeanor. She scanned the ground for an apology.

He relaxed his muscles and put away the dagger. “Not my establishment, not worth risking my life for,” he said.

“I’d have to agree.” Her tone was commanding but apologetic, the voice she always used when acting as a member of the Thieves’ Guild. “My apologies for disturbing your rest.” A voice so recognizably young and Dunmeri, Talen-Jei wondered if anyone was actually fooled by her completely covered face.

“I’ll leave then. Please don’t do anything that’ll interrupt business. Imperial takeover’s made it hard enough as is,” he said.

“Special mission from ‘Jarl Black-Briar’”, a name delivered with an eye roll, “that’s taking us out of the city, so you should be fine.”

He stole a final glance at the door, then turned to leave. His like for Afonya getting the better of him, he added, “And don’t get yourself hurt.”

A giggle escaped the Dunmer’s throat. “I’ll try my best.”

12:15 AM

Afonya Maryon

I leaned next to the doorway of Mistveil Keep, my eyes scanning the square to make sure there was nobody else out. Nobody was, but I wasn’t likely to be noticed either way- it was dark enough that the Nightingale armor rendered me pretty much invisible. I put a hand to my face, checking to make sure nothing poked out from the Nightingale mask. I noticed a strand of hair falling out and tucked it back into my braid, then made sure I was holding the book. Very in-character for Maven to send me to break into a house for what appeared to be a bog-standard copy of Ancestors and the Dunmer. At least whoever owned it had taste.

A man in Riften guard uniform stepped out of the doorway, beginning to draw a sword when he saw me. After a second, he clearly remembered the law meant nothing in Riften and put away the sword, sighing.

“Jarl’s in there?” I asked.

“Yes. Which is why I’m leaving.”

I giggled. “Wish I could say the same.” I don’t think he didn’t found it that funny, so I broke the silence by stepping inside.

The sights inside the palace were the same as usual. A few servants and guards lingered in the torchlight, all of whom had probably worked in the city long enough to be okay with Maven’s casual dealings with organized crime. It was quiet, most of the residents having gone to sleep. As for the Jarl, she sat on her throne at the far end of the room with Maul at her side. Her face shifted into a knowing smile as she noticed my entrance. “Guild Master,” she acknowledged in mock respect. I felt a small bit of relief, knowing she was equally likely to ‘slip up’ and use ‘Thane’ or ‘Afonya’.

“Jarl.” I lowered my head slightly. Holding the book up, I asked, “Was there any point to this?”

“Of course, Guild Master. Do you think I’m interested in wasting your time?” She raised her eyebrows mockingly. “I had to make sure you didn’t arrive too early.”

“Of course not, Jarl. I wouldn’t dream of arriving before I was expected.” I set it down on the closest table, taking the second with my face turned away from the Jarl as an opportunity to roll my eyes.

“Who’s the other one?” she asked with a hint of genuine confusion.

Who? “The other one?” I was equally confused, turning to follow her gaze at the wall behind me, then jumped. “Three, you’re quiet. How long have you been standing there?”

Astarion stepped away from the wall and into the light. “About fifteen minutes, give or take.”

I stepped closer to the vampire to whisper. “You weren’t supposed to come in until after I’d floated the topic to the Jarl.”

“Save your scolding, drow.” His tone was offended, as if I was in the wrong for him not following my instructions. “You told me not to get caught, and there was a guard coming, so I stepped inside. She didn’t seem to mind, so I stayed.”

“You’re in Guild armor, and it’s night. Guards wouldn’t have cared,” I returned.

“And how am I supposed to know that? Usually the law is not okay with thieves walking-“

He was cut off by a laugh from Maven. “A new member of the Guild, Afonya?”

I gritted my teeth. Leave it to Maven to always remind you who’s in power. “He’s… an apprentice.”

She smiled. “Just don’t let him mess anything up. There’s a reason I wanted you specifically on this assignment.”

“Yes, Jarl,” I said, elbowing Astarion in the ribs to do the same.

“Very well then. Maul will take you to the city outskirts, and then I trust that you can get yourselves in the house alive. Don’t let the Guild disappoint me.”

A few minutes passed as I waited for Maul to be ready to leave, giving me time to check Astarion and make sure he had brought everything he needed. He hadn’t.

“Why aren’t you wearing a mask, Astarion? Do you want to be thrown in the lake of Riften?” I asked, exasperated.

“I can hide in the shadows just fine wearing this,” he said, with more than a hint of annoyance coating his tongue. 

“You better hope so, because I have played the Thane card too many times in this city to use it to get you out of an execution. I distinctly remember giving you a mask, too.”

“Maybe I… misplaced it,” he said. I responded with an annoyed look. “I’ll be fine, darling.”

“You’re worse than Brynjolf.” My eyes wandered to Maven. “She’s infuriating, isn’t she?”

He snorted. “Not more than usual. Is this your first time having someone talk down to you?”

I let out a small laugh at the absurdity of the statement. “Not even close.”

Clearly there was a bit too much of my [experience growing up] in that statement, because he responded with the type of smile that curled around his fangs. “Whatever you say, darling.”

1:00 AM

Astarion

The walk from Riften to the manor had taught me three important things.

Number one: Afonya did not stop talking. In what was about thirty-five minutes, her topics had shifted from observations on my differences to Tamriel’s high elves (highlights: I am ‘far too short’, ‘pretty in a human way, not an elvish way’, and ‘have the right accent’ but am only ‘nearly as pretentious’), to a rather spirited debate between the two of us on alcohol preferences that felt like arguing with a [vodka-drinking toddler], to the drow’s various responsibilities and anxieties as the leader of her college. She clearly had a distaste for any silence lasting longer than two seconds, a sharp contrast to a few hours earlier, when I had to wait ten minutes for her to finish a silent prayer so I could ask where the food was. During the walk, I drifted in and out of conversation, more focused on attempting to orient myself in the dark forest surrounding the city. 

Number two: I was vastly unprepared for the temperature. Despite reportedly being one of the warmer regions of Skyrim, the woods managed to beat the cold of even Faerun’s shadow-cursed lands. The wind curled around my arms, biting through the thin leather of my borrowed Guild armor. Afonya seemed to have less of a problem- whatever reflective black material her ensemble was made up of entirely hid her purple skin, and looked to be retaining heat pretty well. I was dying of frostbite, but at least she was comfortable.

Number three: There were a lot of vampires in the Rift. We were first attacked by one solitary woman, then a group of two. Afonya took a hit to the arm during the second fight, prompting a multiple-minute long paranoia about ‘catching it,” and a necessary explanation that most of Tamriel’s cases of vampirism sprouted from simply being attacked by a vampire. She did make sure to emphasize that this wasn’t how the (in her words) ‘floating green ones’ came about, but rather those that were (again, her words) ‘at about your level’. When I asked if vampire attacks were this common for every random human trying to walk a mile out from the city, she launched into another tangent about being a tentative member of a group called the Dawnguard. This one was, at least interesting to listen to- it seemed Afonya was somewhat of a rebel for not adopting an ‘all vampires deserve to be stomped into the ground’ attitude, and had also participated in some affair to prevent a permanent darkening of the sun. She did cut off this part of the story hastily, noticing my focus on her description of the planned rite.

Distractions aside, we had eventually reached the destination: a medium-sized manor noted by Maul, who appeared to be some sort of official hired muscle for Black-Briar, as belonging to a ‘competitor of the Jarl’ but not assigned a specific name. 

[thetechypurpletwin]

★EVERYTHING TO KNOW ABOUT US!!★

WELCOME TO MY BLOG extremely nice to meet you!

I am an alter in a system, so everything I post here will be mostly based on source memories but improv/fictional/rp stuff might be involved :D

ASK BOX IS OPEN!!! SEND US ASKS PLEASE WE LOVE THEM

I decided to make this blog because I wanted my own place separate from our host account to just do my own little thing. Decided to organize some stuff just in case with tags:

ALTERS:

While I may be the sole owner of this blog, there are three other alters who are in our system as well, Mikey, Leo and Raph! They're too lazy to make a blog for themselves. There are other alters as well and you may see them from time to time but this is mostly turtle blog.

I am still the “main owner” of this blog though so let’s start with me!

#donnie txt: all posts that feature me, Donnie, speaking

Donnie Info: any pronouns, bisexual/demiromantic

A tech genius who spends way too much time online and needs reminders on stuff like eating and sleeping. Favorite game is ace attorney but keeps on forgetting to play it

Nicknames: Cosmos, Don, DonTron

#mikey txt: all posts that feature lil bro Mikey speaking (<3)

Mikey Info: he/she, pansexual

Artist who is a shining light in this world. May or may not be slightly unhinged. Favorite game is Splatoon.

(author note: wtf I can hear him giggling im scared)

Nicknames: micheal, angelo, annoying little shit /j

#leo txt: all posts that feature my twin Leo speaking (unfortunately :p /j)

Leo Info: @theprettybluetwin he/they, gay (hehe that rhymes)

the man, the myth, the legend and is also bald. wears a bow with long tails cause he’s just that cool

nicknames: fizzy, nardo, leon, neonleon

(Donnie note: Leo’s a bit of a gacha addict so ask him about project seki or Honkai star rail or CRK they’ll be happy to answer)

#raph txt: all posts that feature our biggest brother Raphie :D speaking Raph Info: he/she/any, demiromantic animal lover and plays stardew valley in her free time

I’m finally here so I can put my own description: hi i’m raph and i like cute things like my melody :) i love wearing bows and obviously my fav color is red :D I don’t front as much as the others but i’m still here watchin

OTHER TAGS:

#donnie ramblings: where I infodump/ramble about random things I'm interested in

#donnie art: whenever I feel like posting my art, it will be here! might also double as "selfie time" so I can draw what I look like compared to my source

#ask a donnie: all posts that are me answering asks/asking for asks (lol) you can ask about our system, my favorite stuff, even ask for story prompts i love story prompts

#mikey art: mikey’s art, I forgot to make her an art tag

#ask a mikey: asks answered by mikey!

#leo ramblings: he’s up and awake and ready to talk your head off about a character they like. Brace yourself (aka Leo shitpost corner)

#ask a leo: asks answered by leo!

#leo gaymes: im gaming gamer boi gayming

#ask a raph: asks answered by raph!

#raph corner: raph’s corner where she talks about cute things and games

#arc: crystallized: :) (TBD)

And more to be determined(?)!

BOUNDARIES:

★We are all under the age of 18, including the body! So please don't send asks or posts asking to date us, even if you are the "same age". Compliments like "you are so pretty/handsome" are welcomed though!

★NO NSFW/T//EST

★No venting in ask boxes please! I don't mind giving comfort to my close friends but if I don't know you its extremely uncomfortable :c

★ Please refrain from talking about the kraang as much as possible. We’re willing to answer some questions but the memories we have are painful :)

★please don’t ask me about usagi. he seems like a pretty cool dude but I’ve never known him. that also goes for any other characters that get shipped with my brothers, none of us remember dating anyone

If we want to add any boundaries in the future, I will do my best to edit this post!

And yes, I was inspired by other rottmnt ask blogs but I do not wish to copy off of them! Like I said, we just want to be able to interact through the world feeling like ourselves, and if you say our personalities are fake or copied it will make us feel sad :c

[thesimoneashley]

this is gonna be a long rant so fair warning:

Having been in the 🐝 fandom since before season 1, I've seen fandom fights come and go. Despite not often engaging in fandom discourse, the exposure of what is rotten in some parts of the fandom thanks to anons at @waitingforeddyneddy and the latest shadyness thrown at Simone and Simone fans made me do this post for my followers. I am not tagging this because I know these vile people love to go around doxxing and bullying.

Before anyone considers harassing or bullying me as well, I want to clarify that I am not friends with Annie, nor do I follow her. However, I appreciate her blog and some anons for exposing some of the nasties within this fandom. It reinforces my belief that certain JB fans have a superior complex and put this yt man (and themselves as “the better fans”) on a ridiculous high pedestal.

It's disgusting to continuesly see people labeled unfairly, like being called "homophobic" for not stanning JB or “racist”for whatever other reason (mainly because they are a fan of Simone but apparently they are not “right” enough).

I used to think JB and SA fans where a unit but ever since S2 dropped the shadyness from JB fans hasn’t stopped, it has increased.

So I am saying this:

If you’re one of those supporting the nasty and passive aggressive comments from certain JB Stans who claim Simone “hasn’t said shit about Kanthony S3” and “only talked about the KA dance a year ago and that was her only statement”, disregarding her numerous interviews from the past year, compared to JB's one time interview about S3 KA in April last year; if you believe Jonny's vague “we are back”qualifies him as the K*nthony king where he couldn’t even name drop his leading lady nor her character and you insist on policing anyone rightfully calling Simone the “K*nthony stan queen” (or whatever name 😂)due to your hurt ego as a JB fan; if you engage in sending death threats and hateful messages to @waitingforeddyneddy or anyone who is not a fan of your damn white as chalk man, if you are joking about “Simone's (un)employment” and calling her boyfriend all sorts of names; if all this aligns with your behavior, please unfollow me now and go f*ck yourself.

I may not support everything discussed over there, but thanks to that blog’s anons, I've become aware that some Simone fan sites (some whom I used to follow and support) are involved with or even instigating negativity. I hope you feel ashamed of calling her boyfriend ugly or harassing her fellow stans, or make fun of people supporting her just because you don’t like them while also having the audacity to dictate Simone on her own instagram how, when and what to post. What a big ass hypocrite and disgusting person you and your friends are.

To those love to claim that Simone's fans behavior reflect poorly on her and the fandom (I quote “this is why everyone hates SA fans”), you would benefit from taking a moment to reflect on everyone’s individual behavior including your own. JB fans, look no further than to your mutual stans who tell SA fans they wish they “got aborted”. All for your yt man who will never f*ck you. Your sick in the head.

And for anyone who wants to know what piece of worthless scum there is among the JB / (k)*nthony fandom read through the anons from the blog by @waitingforeddyneddy

Trigger Warning: I hope those with braincells in the JB fandom understand that I'm not generalizing all fans as a whole.

Everyone else playing superior while stanning that yt man:Wishing you a change of attitude.

I am linking this post pinned to my blog since Season 2 dropped.It features (TW for the ego hurt) THE ONLY interview from JB in April 2022 about KA S3 he ever gave since the show dropped contrasting with numerous instances where Simone(the Queen of Kan*hony;))))), has discussed KA. You are welcome to shut tf about now.

Edit: you are also f*cked up to think JB telling some random stalker fan he “loves” Simone means they are secret besties or whatever. Talking about parasocial.

[acrossthewavesoftime]

Making fun of people’s mental health issues, even if they aren’t people that you particularly like, is absolutely despicable. This is incredibly poor behaviour for a so called “historian”. Whatever happened to working against historical bias? You don’t have to like bpc, but maybe check yourself first before you mock someone’s alcoholism

Anon,

You are indeed correct that I am not particularly fond of Charles Edward Stuart. That said, you should not treat a three to four lines long post on Tumblr the same as a scholarly opinion expressed in, say, a thesis or a paper. These are different media, and serving different purposes.

The post is already marked as not being anything close to historical fact as it deals with Charles Edward and his father being (un-) able to set up bots, which, given the different landscape of technology and information media in their day and sardonic tone, should be enough to know not to treat this post as a scholarly piece.

I agree that illnesses are a difficult subject and have to be dealt with sensibly.

In the case at hand, there is ample historical record suggesting that Charles Edward Stuart was generally not a very pleasant person to deal with, growing increasingly worse following the failed rebellion in Scotland, which seems to be the time when he made visibly intoxicated appearances in public more often. Being seen behaving erratically further hurt his cause as it led to potential European supporters feeling that he was in no shape to make another (and successful) attempt on the British throne (or even just on Scotland), which frustrated him, and perhaps contributed to his alcohol abuse, which also alienated him from his partner Clementina Walkinshaw and only daughter.

Walkinshaw left Charles after putting up with a little shy of a decade of physical and psychological abuse to protect their young daughter Charlotte and herself from harm, possibly with the help of his own father, as Charles' controlling ways meant she would have had little chance of just closing the door and leaving, even more so as mother and daughter would have been financially dependent on Charles, who, for the next 23 years, did not support his child as she grew up and declined wanting any contact with her.

Given this historical background which the post and tags also allude to, I felt it was safe as not to be misread as a general vilification of people struggling with alcohol abuse (who are, which is important to mention, not automatically abusive, particularly intentionally so, to other people by the way), but an expression of a personal distaste for this particular man featured in the post which is coloured by the fact he turned violent against people in a socially and physically weaker position than and dependent on him while intoxicated, and did so, as the lengthy period of the abuse and indeed disparaging letters written by him suggest, unremorsefully.

This does of course not mean that I think Charles Edward Stuart would not have deserved help, a kind of help that sadly was not available at the time, or that I have a distaste for any (modern) person who struggles with an addiction of any kind. If you had taken the time to check my past post history, you would have found that there is nothing to suggest so.

Your criticism has however alerted me to the fact that I forgot to add warning-/mention-tags to the post as I normally would, so that people who do not wish to stumble over a post mentioning either alcoholism or domestic abuse can filter it; I have rectified that.

To me, the line "[y]ou don’t have to like bpc" especially in conjunction with you also citing "working against the historical bias", reads as though your main point of issue with my post is that I do not like Charles Edward Stuart and made an according comment on my blog.

If this is the case, my best advice (something you were so free in giving me unwantedly that I in turn am confident you will hear out mine) to you is to not engage with people whose opinions you don't agree with rather than getting up and personal in anons.

I don't know you (and you clearly don't want to be known by me even in a loose internet-acquaintance way, seeing as you used the anon function for your ask), and don't have to agree with me; but I am also firmly of the opinion that the key to good, peaceful coexistence in any space where people meet is to engage them respectfully.

To me, your response is emblematic of the worrying trend of (internet-) anti-intellectualism that does not tolerate discourse in that, instead of expressing polite critique, you resort to a public response coupled with attacking the credentials you deem me to have under the guise of defending what, nonnegotiably, is a good cause (namely the dignified treatment of people who suffer from mental illnesses) by taking a post out of context, or misreading its message.

Lastly, I would also like to remind you that first and foremost, you are responsible for curating your own online experience and how that, and your resulting behaviour, affects others; you are of course free to disagree with me or any other poster on this site or anywhere else, but there are other, more proportionate responses to not liking a post someone put on their own personal blog than getting up and personal in an accusatory anon message.

Your personal feelings on a matter are not necessarily those of others, and to shout at a stranger because you do not agree with them is poor form both in person and online.

You are free to block people, including me, whose posts you don’t want to see and sites like AO3 or Tumblr allow you to filter tags.

Perhaps the best, and most effortless response is to move on from posts that you do not agree with. This does of course not mean you should ignore things such as hate speech or other content that violates Tumblr user guidelines, or indeed the law (e. g. doxing, (explicit) images posted without the consent of the person in them, or in some places, denying the Holocaust happened etc.), but if a post simply does not sit right with you personally, sometimes the best response is none at all. There is so much content on Tumblr alone that each of us could fill our entire day just sending (and in turn, receiving) rude anons to people we disagree with for one or the other reason.

If you feel like wanting to discuss something you read with the original poster, perhaps the best response is to send them a private message, and ask politely “what do you mean by [x]?” or “could you please explain?” rather than sending them a rude anon attacking them personally. Many people, including me, are genuinely open to discussion and constructive criticism and will listen to what you have to say if you approach them politely.

[opossumthrifting]

INAUGURAL THRIFT HAUL!

hello and welcome to the first installment of my thrifting adventures here on tumblr. I don’t get clothes that much, and when i do they’re almost always 80/90s grandma/elementary school teacher vests and sweaters.

i usually get cards, knick knacks, trinkets, toys/plushies, craft stuff, and media (VHS, cassettes, and books are what i seek out the most, but dvds, cds, etc are cool too)

so welcome to my first post of many. i won’t do just hauls, next will probably be my VHS, DVD, Cassette, or CD collection (i am a heavy advocate for physical media), but this blog is called opossumthrifting, so ya! lets get on with it!

ESTATE SALE (09/26)

pictured above is 3 ceramic skeleton keys (non-functional) [$1 all], a VHS boxset of the original star wars films in great condition [$10], and an x files 1998 calendar that i mistook for a vinyl </3 [$1]

(the back of said calander)

an entirely mechanical novelty pendulum clock from the 1960s! i only got it for $1 because the nice people running the estate sale thought it didn’t work, but it does! below is a video of it :]

GARAGE SALE 1 (09/27)

in a small town 20 minutes away (that i frequent for a really good thriftstore there, its basically the only one i go to regularly), they were having a townwide garage sales! its nearing the end of yardsale/garage sale season, so i decided to pop in and found some goodies!

pictured above is a Craft Bazaar edition (i have a halloween and a ‘mega’ edition, so i guess i have a collection now!) [.25], a cookbook for my best friend, its not all gingerbread but it sure is all baking! [.25], a random cookbook that was in fantastic condition, so i’m gonna try and learn some of them! [.25], and a precious moments “tender tails” turkey! [$1]

the people there were really sweet, there was a man who was putting stuff out/straightening things up and he called me kiddo, and there a woman who was sitting at the cash table(??) and called me hon :}}

GARAGE SALE 2 (09/27)

next stop! this was listed on the towns website for the event, it had vintage hallmark pins listed (which i collect)! they were a tad expensive, and the ladies were so sweet i felt bad haggling :[ so i didn’t, they had a lot but i only got a st. patty’s day mouse [$10] (i don’t have a st pattys pin yet), then i got the rescuers book (with special edition cover for the ‘brand new’ motion picture!) [$1], a set of ribbon [it was tagged as $2 but i think she might’ve put it down to a $1 because of my total), two ET chapter books [$1 each]

…and a little surprise in the reflective cover ET book! this definitely was a kids favorite once upon a time, and i’m honored to have it in my possession now (and the cutie little bookmark!)

disney’s alice in wonderland picturebook from 1975! there are some pencil/graphite scribbles by the one and only Lisa (who’s name is scrawled on the front page), but i don’t mind! [$1]

last but definitely not least, papa turkey to match the baby turkey i got at the other sale! he wishes to protect his baby, so he proclaims “EAT HAM” with his clever little sign! [$3]

I had chatted with the two women running this particular sale for a bit, and apparently they’d been elementary school teachers in the 80s (from what i could gather)! they’d switch out the pins for each holiday, put the papa turkey near the entrance to their classroom, and the books probably belonged to a small classroom library! there was also a carrying case FILLED with 1980s MLPs, including a flocked one in AMAZING condition, but it was $50 for all and she wasn’t willing to split D: i hope they all find a nice home together though :]

GARAGE SALE 3 (09/27)

only got one thing here- this 1984 (or '83, can't remember for sure) Tonka 63 piece jigsaw puzzle featuring Pound Puppies! the lady there was really nice, i asked if she knew if all the pieces were there, she said no but counted them up for me :] they're all there!

QUICK THRIFT-STORE STOP (09/27)

alas, this post comes to a close with the thrift store that was my gateway into the various activities in the town; it's come to the point where some people think i go to the local highschool (whoops), but here we go! my dad (who was driving) had to go to the bathroom, so we stopped by and i rifled through some things for a bit. I'd already been there wednesday (today being friday), but I saw the basket of plushies was much fuller.

a majority of them were knock-off catholic beanie babies (so many that i started saying "holy copyright infringement batman!), but i still found some good stuff!

i collect vintage greeting cards! i have a few artists/series i collect in specific (bunnies by the bay, suzy's zoo, precious moments, and russ cards to name a few), but i didn't rifle through the CARD TOWER (trademark pending) as much as i usually do, but i pulled out a couple cuties! three teddy bear cards, and an embossed flower card by hallmark (of which i forgot what flower it is...)!

above is (from top to bottom and left to right), a beanie boo backpack clip for my best friends sister, a Snowden (and friends) mouse, a little pink bear with no tag and a detatched mini thread spool (which i will soon sew back on), two Aurora roosters (i couldn't separate them D: that would just be cruel), and three state beanie babies (i heart mississipi, lousiana, and alabama bears) for my mother!

not picture is a really cool old, compact jewelry box called THE JEWEL KIT (all rights reserved), it's black and unfolds out. it can't be that practical, but it's neat! the pictures were too beefy for tumblr though D:

[vlxyrianclaws]

elaenaceltigar​:

and there she sat, violet eyes never once casting downward or unwavering from her older brother’s almost maniacal stare. his tone was cold, dismissive, and if she really wanted to, she would feel her heart break like a cracked egg. instead, the youngest celtigar held her ground as maximus continued to toss insults down at her like she was some sort of common woman, someone he could boss around whenever he felt like. rage was the only thing illuminating in her features at maximus’ words; how could someone as family be so cruel-hearted and disdain? 

how could she be related to him? did he have no respect for her?

turning her head only briefly as he shot out his venemous words of why she was so insolent which somehow stung even sharper in their native tongue, elaena could almost feel tears welling up in her eyes. of course, she knew why he was so explosive; sneaking off with lyra towards stonehelm and spending time underneath arthur swann’s roof, it was only expected from the man that he would so obviously use his anger towards her. lyra was never home anymore, which meant that elaena took the brunt of the lashings; whether by tongue or by a swift, strong hand.

finally facing maximus, elaena glowered in the sight of her older brother, slamming her hands on the table that almost made her shake from how infuriated she was that he dared question her actions. maximus might be her blood, but she felt nothing but a storm boiling in her veins towards the man. hands tightened into fists against the woodgrain where they both sat.

elaena knew that there would be consequences for her actions; her insolent actions against their house, their blood and their rights. she certainly didn’t need maximus reminding her of what she had done. staying underneath an unmarried man’s roof with absolutely no intentions of marrying the frail looking man, one who, if she blew hard enough, would fly into the wind. no, that was her sister’s type.

“you give me a certain headache that i don’t know will ever go away, maximus.” a challenge. a direct disobedience. “i am more ready than our own sister, and you know it.” a raise in her voice, vibrating in annoyance. “i am worthy of the responsibility, not lyra. she is scared of her own shadow.” a pause. “if you wish to see me as such a impertinent headache, do something about it. or better yet, let our dear sister know that i am not allowed out of your claws, your sinking claws that disallow me from such adventures. i do not see you scolding our sweet sister for her actions, do we?” elaena extended her hands exasperatedly around the very empty room with the mistress of whispers absent.

“i would watch your hands, maximus. i am not a little girl for you to strike anymore.”

mxc.

tw: physical violence, abuse, putting under a read more to be safe but also tagged.

a child. it was a child that remained sat opposite him, who had swapped out girlish sewing for coloured hues, paints and dyes. there was a part of him which almost urged him to simply rise from his seat, and leave the situation now; and yet, there was something dumbfounding to maximus celtigar about the response of his sister. her first instinct was to refer to the mistakes of lyra, which he did not even want to think or consider: not in this moment. it would be the fuse to something much darker that were brewing beneath his eyes. 

he found it disgusting, the way she defended herself for a line that had been crossed. at this point in the conversation, there was space for dialogue, for conversation; the bold disobedience within her voice was enough of a switch for maximus celtigar that it would be finished. there was silence as he looked upon her, the aftermath of her words sitting within the room, within the space between them. 

“if you are going to do something...” he spoke, the volume of his voice rising and bellowing. this was how it always went, the volume raised and out came a voice that was deep. booming. sinister.

and suddenly, he had raised himself from his chair to walk over to where elaena sat. his hands, tainted with the blood and anguish of those who were no longer here to ensure they always remained, reached down to grab a hold of her. he forced her up from her seat, his hands wrapped around her own wrists with a grip so tight there would be bruises. and when his hand came down to her face, he ensured to strike her with the ring he wore on his hands making direct contact. it did not come down once. 

but twice. shattering, the sound echoing across the empty chamber. her cheek bright red. “have enough of a backbone to speak of your own actions.”

patience? he had none of it; the very spitting image of the father that had also taken to enforcing physical discipline upon his children the moment they stepped out of line. for maximus, it had always been his mouth that had been the reason he often was held up against the wall by their father. trained to take beatings without even making a whimper. that was how men disciplined beneath the roof of claw isle: and it was the reason why lyra seemed to whisper, seemed to tipetoe. out of all of them, it was her that received the less amount of beatings. 

and when he let go of her, he removed his hands with such force it was almost enough to cause her to stumble backwards. there was not an inch of remorse that came over him. she would open her mouth, she would argue back - and she could. when she was not proving herself an embarrassment to her own reputation, and to her family. “do anything like this again, and you will remain here alone until i have married you off to the first bidder, like cattle. do you understand me?”

[ahundredtimesover]

Missing our plm couple extra today. Wonder what they’re doing 🫶🏼

I’ve had this on my drafts for a while and decided to finish it with the image of long-haired and glasses JK in mind. It sort of sets up the stage for the The Fight as well. I hope you enjoy 🥰

Title: Please Love Me Bonus 06 - I tell you everything.

WC: 4,421

Tags/Warnings: suggestive

Series Masterlist

Five minutes. Jungkook’s phone pings.

No 10.

Or maybe 15 sorry hun I’m still packing up but also it’s the last day of class so everyone’s chatting it up oh you can come in if you want! Another ping. 

Jungkook laughs at your run-on sentences and knows you’ll be cringing at them later. But he’s also imagining you looking a little stressed, trying to multitask between fixing your tools and saying your goodbyes to your classmates. 

He turns off the engine and exits the car. It’s when he gets another message - Kook, can you come? I need help with my things 🥺 - that he jogs the block to the art studio and makes a left to the hallway where your class is. 

He looks around, in awe of how the decor at the west wing quickly changes. In the half year that you’ve been enrolled in your drawing class, he’s visited you a few times and each time, the art pieces hanging on the wall have been different. He’d spied a few of yours, too, and he’d spent too much time just admiring your work and imagining what inspired you or what you were thinking, something he always asked you about later on. 

But one other thing he likes to do when he picks you up is peek through the half-wall window and not-so-creepily watch you work on your piece - focused eyes surrounded by your soft features, with only a look of determination mixed with pure passion for the craft. You did say you’ve come to love drawing after all. 

It’s through his visits that your classmates have come to know him, too - that first time, one asked if he was the nude art model and another yelled they wished he was. Jungkook didn’t miss your slightly embarrassed and flushed face when you finally claimed him as your husband. The room melted into a puddle, with oohs and ahhs reverberating through the walls when he greeted you with a forehead kiss and picked up your things as he often does. 

Jungkook does all those again today. He sees one of your pieces and imagines what you were thinking of as you painted the sky green, then he turns to the room where the sound of applause catches his attention. But then his smile - the one he’s been sporting since this afternoon when he got to free up his evening so he could attend your event with you tonight - fades, his eyebrows furrowing and a pout forming on his face. 

He’s familiarized himself with all your classmates and colleagues, and that half-naked man with firm pectorals and large biceps and chiseled jaw and sharp nose is definitely not one of them. 

Back inside, you’re busy putting away all your pencils giggling at the light banter between your classmates. You’d asked Jungkook to help you with some of your things and you know he’s probably waiting outside.  

Before your gaze wanders outside, you look around the room and meet deep-set, hazelnut eyes - intense and paralyzing as they bore into you. You’re quite surprised, and as you zip up your bag, you accidentally hit your easel. You shut your eyes as reflex, ready for it to make that sound as it hits the floor. 

But it doesn’t.

“You nervous or something?” 

The man’s voice is deep. It’s familiar, and as you look up, you know why it is. 

He’s putting in place the easel that you almost knocked over. He’s got a smirk on, and you wonder if your flushed form has anything to do with it. You didn’t really expect that the man whose backside you were drawing just minutes ago would be speaking to you. The models for your nude drawing class don’t exactly interact with the artists - it’s kind of weird to do that when strangers have basically seen every part of you. 

But he’s here in front of you with a twinkle in his eyes that have now softened, and you’re only able to shake your head. Sure, he's handsome, but he’s also still half-naked - you’re not exactly sure how to process that outside of your drawing bubble.

“You’re rushing, then?” He asks.

“Uh, sort of?” You chuckle, relaxing a little as you try to focus on just his face.

“That’s a shame. I heard that Mrs. Yang’s treating your class to dinner and she invited me. I was really hoping I’d see you there,” he replies.

“Oh? I’ve got an event tonight. Is there something you wanted to tell me?”

“Sort of,” he chuckles now. “I’ve modeled for some of her other classes and no one draws me quite like you do. They seem so real and so intimate. Mrs. Yang said I could personally ask you if I could bring home your drawings of me. I like how you’re able to capture the—”

He’s cut off by the sound of a throat clearing and Jungkook turning you towards him with a deep kiss on your lips, his hand gripping your waist tightly as he lingers on your skin.

“Hey, babe,” he says.

“Kook,” you blink up at him, surprised again by the desperation in his actions. “Hi,” you recover, smiling at his presence despite the scowl on his face. 

“You ready to go?” He sounds in a hurry, uninterested.

“Yeah, I was just talking to Samuel. He was asking for my drawings of him.”

“Is he now?” Jungkook arches an eyebrow and crosses his arms. He looks up and down the man in question who still has a smirk on his face.

“I am,” Samuel replies, assessing your husband from head to toe just the same. “___ draws me so beautifully. Her pieces make the hours-long process of posing nude all worth it. She’s got an amazing eye, among other things.” 

If you didn’t really care much for him earlier, now, you don’t care much for him at all. You want to tell him off for how shameless he’s being, but the selfish and silly part of you wants to know how your husband would react and well, follow up that sudden kiss he gave you to get your attention.

“She does,” Jungkook replies. “She’s obviously talented but she’s also had some practice. I mean, I’m her muse when it comes to this… nude drawing thing and yeah, I know all about posing for so long being worth it.”

Jungkook gives you a naughty smile and you know exactly what he’s thinking about. “It’s quite the gift when you’re married to an artist, you know?”

“Ah, you’re married, I see,” Samuel hums, glancing at your left hand that’s now sporting the ring that you remove every time you draw or paint.  “That’s good. For both of you. Not for me but yeah, I shouldn’t be surprised,” he turns to you, chuckling now, realizing at how stupid he seemed. “But can I still keep the artwork, if that’s okay and not weird for your husband?”

“Her work, her choice,” Jungkook responds. 

“Sure, if it’s as nice as you say it,” you shrug, not minding much. It’s always a compliment when your model reacts that way to your final output. “You can just ask Mrs. Yang for them.”

“It is, I truly mean it,” Samuel smiles more genuinely this time. “And yes, I’ll choose the best one, although that might be difficult. They’re all great.”

“Thank you, Samuel,” you grin, not interested to keep this on. “I’ll get going now. It was a pleasure.”

“It was. I hope to see you around,” he smirks again, and you don’t miss the scowl that graces your husband’s face once more.

You wave goodbye to your classmates and tell them you’ll catch up with them another time. It’s when you exit the building that you turn to Jungkook, his frowned expression turning into a pout. 

“What was that, Mr. Jeon?” You giggle. 

“What?” He’s defensive, even as he takes your hand and leads you down the street. 

“Don’t think I didn’t know what you were doing with that kiss and head-to-toe look and hidden meanings in your words, hmm? Are you threatened?”

You’re teasing, a rarity for you because Jungkook does get quite jealous and you’ve never wanted to push him, but something about him in his work attire, rolled up sleeves with tattoos exposed and all that makes you want to just try. He looks tough like this, especially with his hair that he’s growing out, but the glasses he’s been wearing more frequently just makes him adorable. It’s a kind of sexy that you’ve been enjoying lately. 

“Just never seen him before,” he shrugs. “And he was obviously flirting with you. Like, ‘you’ve got a great eye among other things’? What the fuck does that mean?!”

“Yeah, I thought he was just being friendly until that,” you laugh. “He’s modeled just 3 times including today. He’s apparently an artist, too, so he knows a lot about forms and stuff. So that’s kind of nice, being complimented like that.”

“Hmm, probably. You also couldn’t stop looking at him.”

“Hey!” You nudge Jungkook. “It’s only because his body is so overwhelming, you know?”

“And what about mine?” He frowns.

“Perfect - just the way I like it,” you turn towards him, stopping him in his tracks so he could look at you and see the love in your eyes. “You, my dear husband, are the most handsome and sexiest being in this world, with or without clothes, and I absolutely adore every inch of you, every ridge and every dip and every beauty mark and every scar.”

You cup his cheeks and feel them rise to his eyes as he can’t help but smile at your words. 

“No need to worry, okay?” You assure. “Classes are over and I’m satisfied with my nude drawing abilities already, especially with the muse I’ve got.” You wink, liking how he blushes. He takes your hand and lovingly kisses it before kissing your forehead. 

“Hmm, might want to draw me again soon so that this is the only nude body you’ll remember,” he winks. 

“Oh trust me, this is the only nude body I remember,” you respond, resting your palms on his chest.

He takes the opportunity to pull you closer, his warm breath tingling your skin. “Good. I’ll keep reminding you though, maybe tonight? Or right when we get home?” He hums in satisfaction and kisses your lips.

You giggle in his hold. “Kook, we’re in public,” you remind him, as an old woman chuckles as she passes by you both. 

“I don’t care,” he huffs.

“I do,” you answer, though your words don’t have a bite in them.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he arches a brow.

“Do I need to?” You tease, tracing his defined pecs underneath his silk polo as you bite your lip.

“Fuck, let’s go.”

You arrive at the grand estate of Mr. Lee that’s right at the edge of the city. It took a while to get here, as you and Jungkook took too much time feeling each other up before you actually got dressed, but it was something you didn’t mind. He gets riled up when he gets jealous, and you’d shyly told him it was quite a turn on. You would’ve passed up on this event if it wasn’t so important to you, and he understood. He promised to continue what you’d both started after, though, and that really got you smiling. 

The mansion is buzzing. Clanking sounds of champagne flutes, soft munching of canapés, and laughter and conversations fill the grand room and the hallways nearby. There are many familiar people - and not because you know them from the art world, you know them because of your family and Jungkook’s. Those present in the viewing of Mr. Lee’s private art collection are big names in the business and entertainment industry, after all. But they’re here by personal invitation and their appreciation of art, including you.

It’s a twice a year event, and you’re lucky that one of Mr. Lee’s granddaughters is currently your student in the weekly art class for children that you’ve been teaching for the past few months. Her mother befriended you and was kind enough to invite you tonight, and you couldn’t be happier, especially when Jungkook messaged you earlier that he was able to free up his evening to accompany you here. You’ve been busy with various projects on top of the classes you take and conduct, and you wanted to spend time with your husband, even if half the time you’d be gushing about the pieces anyway, something he said he wouldn’t mind at all.

You find your way to look at a contemporary piece, telling Jungkook about the artist, when someone calls your name. You turn to the side and see a familiar face. 

“Chi-won,” you smile. “It’s good to see you here.”

You return the hug that the man gives you and introduce your husband.

“You, too, although I figured you’d be here,” he grins. “You’re why I got invited in the first place. I heard you recommended the tattoo shop to Mr. Lee’s daughter. She came a few weeks ago and found out I collect art, too, and she invited me tonight. So thank you.”

“Ah, that’s wonderful,” you chirp. “She said her friends aren’t into the arts so she gives the invitations to even acquaintances whom she thinks would appreciate it. I’m glad you get to witness this, too. It’s amazing, isn’t it?”

Jungkook zones out a little once you and your friend start talking about the artists whose works are displayed in the estate. Somehow, art talk is only interesting to him when it’s you who’s talking, so he lets his mind wander a bit until he hears the words that sort of knock him out.

“Loving the tattoo, by the way. It looks really great now that it’s healed,” the man says. 

Saying it’s great means he’s looking at it, and looking at it means he’s got his eyes on the colored ink painted on the valley between your breasts. Much as Jungkook adores the low-cut neckline of your wine-colored satin dress, that obviously also means that other people get a peek at it, too. The tattoo is beautiful - it’s his birth flower, after all, and he feels blessed everyday that you got it because of him, and that he gets to marvel at it every single day. He just doesn’t like the thought of others having that opportunity, too.

“Thank you,” you gush. “You’ve got amazing people at the shop, and that’s because of you. I really love it, and so does my husband. Right, Kook?”

You turn to him and Jungkook manages a curt nod and an almost-whisper of “of course.” Is… is he the man who put this on you?

You and Chi-won say your goodbyes as he heads to the other wing, and you turn to Jungkook with his curious look mixed with a tinge of nervousness.

“He’s a tattoo artist at the shop where I got the flower done,” you say, realizing what your statement could imply once Jungkook’s eyes widen.

“Oh! He didn’t tattoo me, Kook. He just owns the shop,” you explain, not wanting your husband to worry that another man got to see your bare chest. Jungkook’s face relaxes and you hear his sigh of relief. “I told you I’d get a woman to do it even if you didn’t ask for it. I don’t exactly want to expose my body to another man, you know?”

“Just me, huh?” Jungkook shyly smiles now. 

“Of course, honey. No one else.” You kiss his nose and like how his eyes close and how his features soften at the act.

You both continue the tour around the mansion. There’s an entire area dedicated to all the pieces - paintings, sculptures, mixed media art - and you gush at each one. Somehow Jungkook feels like it’s just you and him in your own little bubble. Even with the people you greet every once in a while, you choose to experience the collection with just him, even if you know he doesn’t understand half of the things you’re explaining - he’s said he likes just hearing the tone of your voice and the way your eyes crinkle when you talk about the things that make you happy.

Unfortunately, he has to burst that, as he takes an important work call and excuses himself. It takes 15 minutes but when he returns, there you are with yet another man gushing over you, it seems like, as the tall man with incredibly strong features and perfect hair shows you photos from his phone and laughs along with you.

Jungkook stands there, not wanting to burst the bubble you have with another person who gets you, in that sense - someone who gets your art, your world, your passion, and who gets to respond to you with more than just “ah, that’s cool,” the way he does. So he lets you have your moment, your space. He’ll step in in a while, he tells himself.

“Why is it that every time I see you in one of these things, you’ve always got that look on your face as you watch your wife socialize with another man from afar?”

Jungkook knows the voice before he even turns to the side and finds Kim Namjoon, your brother’s close friend and a staple in these events as an art collector himself. He’s become familiar to Jungkook, too, finding him during the times when he’s stuck on his spot as he chooses to observe you from afar. Because the man’s right - this happens more frequently than Jungkook likes to admit.

“It comes with marrying a talented and beautiful woman, I guess,” Jungkook chuckles. “I’m used to it.”

“Well, it’s her world and she stands out,” Namjoon responds.

“She stands out anywhere, actually, with anyone,” Jungkook responds, letting the thought settle in before he continues. “The man’s this big shot executive and a single dad. His 5-year old is in her art class and the kid adores her so I don’t blame the guy for admiring my wife. She’s great with kids.”

“Is it really admiration, though? Looks like he’s just showing off his son to her,” Namjoon observes, as the man holds up his phone to show you various photos to both of your delight. You’re laughing along with the man, smiling as he shows more.

“Yeah? I mean, look at the way he looks at her,” Jungkook responds.

He should be used to it by now. You have a comforting charm about you, and if he wasn’t a stuck up teenager, he would’ve realized that very early on. But no; he’d shut you out and only got to see just how good it is to be around you once he’d married you.

Your students in art class are a testament to that - it’s no wonder you were asked to add another schedule because the kids enjoy your sessions that much. Their parents are a testament to that as well. Even strangers are. But it hits differently, as he sees how the man softly watches you laugh and coo at his own son. There’s a certain glow on your face when it comes to children - Jungkook won’t blame anyone for finding that beautiful. 

“Hmm, it’s nothing compared to the way she looks at you, though,” Namjoon says. “You’d be laughing or something, or socializing when you’re in your world, and she’d be looking at you with the brightest stars in her eyes.”

Jungkook looks at the older man with questioning eyes. 

“I’ve been to some of your family’s galas, Jungkook. She hangs with me sometimes when you’re off to do your duties, and it always made me smile how adoringly she looked at you, whether up close or from afar.”

“That’s, uh… that’s nice to know,” Jungkook hums, feeling his heartbeat quicken. 

“And it shouldn’t be news to you anymore. She may be catching a lot of people’s attention but at the end of day, all she wants is you.”

And right on cue, you look around and find him, your soft eyes asking if he’s okay. Jungkook nods - to you and to Namjoon’s suggestion of going over to you. 

“Hey, hun,” you take his hand as he gets closer. “This is Woobin, Sunoo’s dad. He was just showing me photos of them painting the new playroom.” You turn to the other man. “This is Jungkook, my husband.”

“Hi,” Jungkook shakes Woobin’s hand. “So you’re the father of the famous Sunoo. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Ah, so she’s talked about him,” Woobin chuckles. “And yes, I am. My son adores your wife, as many of the kids and their parents surely do.”

“___ talks about the kids at her class all the time,” Jungkook smiles, realizing it now. “They just make her so happy.”

Despite your busy schedule full of your own classes and the ones you run, on top of your actual job at the art firm and being an artist yourself, you’re devoid of any stress once you start talking about your students. You know what they like to paint or draw, know how to help them improve, and have so many ideas to make them appreciate art even more. It’s no wonder they love you as much as they do.

“Ah, that’s no surprise. I’m just glad my son got to enroll in her class. I heard it’s tough to get into it now since she’s in demand,” Woobin states. “But it was nice to meet you, Jungkook, and nice to see you again, ___. Sunoo will be happy to know I saw you tonight.”

You and Jungkook bid him goodbye and you turn to your husband, smiling sweetly at him. 

“I’ve seen everything tonight,” you inform him. “Another round of desserts and then we can go?”

“Sure, but I’m suddenly craving for churros and ice cream,” he responds.

“Hmm, let’s go to McDonald’s, then.”

“Alright, but uh, are you cold? Do you want to put this on?”

Jungkook removes his coat and offers it to you, and though you know the breeze outside is manageable, you take it, somehow wanting him much closer tonight. You also know that perhaps it’s your low neckline that he’s a bit wary of. 

“Sure, Kook. Thank you.”

You lean on Jungkook’s shoulder and hum in satisfaction over the strawberry-flavored sundae. “Hmm, this is almost just as good as the desserts at the event.”

“Babe, McDonald’s is always just as good or better than anything,” Jungkook says with a half-full mouth. “It’s truly amazing.”

“It is. Somehow it cleanses our palette of rich-people stuff, doesn’t it?” You laugh and he joins you. It’s something that sparked your bond in the beginning, after all, and that hasn’t changed. 

“Yeah, but it’s also just my happy food, you know? Grease, sweets, unhealthy stuff… delicious.”

“Happy food, huh? Did something upset you tonight? Or maybe someone?” You ask, wanting to know if him stepping away while you spoke with Woobin has something to do with it. 

“Not really. Woobin didn’t cross a line,” Jungkook says, an admission that he knows what you’re talking about. “I mean, he was looking at you like a man with a crush, though, and I can’t blame him but he knew his boundaries. Good for him.”

“Of course he does, Kook. He knows I have a husband.”

“Yes, after you told him you couldn’t have coffee with him when he asked you out, which means that he was interested and he probably still is, like that nude model who was definitely into you.”

You turn to look at him who’s busy with his sundae but clearly bothered, but not enough to be angry. You’ve always been honest with him, the way he’d always been honest about the women at the Clubhouse who’d thrown themselves at him after one of his soccer games. You’ve always trusted each other, and you’re just glad that that’s always been enough to not have any miscommunication or arguments because of it.

“Ah, Samuel. Yeah, that was new.”

“Oh? He’s never hinted on a crush? Dude was looking at you like you were all he could see,” Jungkook shakes his head. 

“Yeah, then you came in with a kiss and swept me off my feet,” you teasingly roll your eyes. “How romantic.”

“Sorry, it was just reflex,” he explains. 

“I know, but you have nothing to worry about, okay? I tell you everything. Maybe not the mundane interactions or insignificant things that I easily forget but the important ones.”

“I know,” he says, smiling at you. “And you know I tell you everything, too.”

“You do,” you smile back. “But thank you for making it tonight. You’ve been so busy and I’m just glad I got to be with you.”

“Anything for you, babe. You’ve been so busy, too, and honestly, I didn’t mind moving the meeting with my father since I wasn’t really ready. Plus, all I had to say was that I was accompanying you to an art event and he let me go. You’re a spoiled daughter-in-law, you know that?”

You laugh at his teasing and the fact that your husband had the gall to ask his own father and boss to move a meeting for you. 

“I am, actually. And now it benefits you, too!”

“It benefits both of us,” he corrects. “But tonight was good. I mean, I kinda had to ward off certain men but I didn’t mind. It was still a fun one.”

“It was,” you hum, basking in his boyish smile and the twinkle in his eyes. Something comes alive inside you when he looks at you this way, and amidst the midnight buzzing of a McDonald’s in the city, you move closer and kiss his lips, gentle but wanting, and you feel him smile even wider against you.

“Babe, we’re in public,” he teases, and much as he likes to do that, he also enjoys it when you get a little flustered even when you mouth that you ‘don’t care.’

You peck his cheek and pull him, and as you walk to the car with his coat over your shoulder, as you talk about the art collection all the way home, and as you share a bath and then lie bare underneath the covers with your tangled limbs, Jungkook only knows this - this is your world, and in the one you both share, you’re the only two people who matter.

Series Masterlist

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[broccolianddandelion]

7 TDBK/BKTD Fic Recs. Happy Labor Day.

The end of summer is sadly upon us, though it’s over 100 degrees where I live, so it doesn’t feel that way. Thank you global warming. Here are some fic recs in case you have some free time over the long weekend. Mind the tags, and take care of yourself. As always, YMMV.

The Anger Translators (T, 5.5K) @d-naggeluide. Todoroki considered, then sighed. "Do you think we'll ever be able to do this on our own?"

"Do what, express anger normally in a healthy-ass manner or some shit that's not either super repressed or extremely violent?" Bakugou glowered at him, arms crossed.

"Yes."

"No."

---

In which Bakugou becomes Todoroki's anger translator and vice versa

This popular fic is pure fun. A most unique way for Bakugou and Todoroki to get together.

It Was You Before I Knew It (M, 10.2K) by @bideroo. In a shitty bar, gaudy with neon and too many people, Shouto has no idea he's teetering on the edge of 'make or break'. Will it be too late, once he finally figures it out?

One of my not-so-secret weaknesses is love triangles that end with Bakugou and Todoroki together. I know it’s not a popular trope, so there aren’t that many fics out there that tackle this niche.  In this no-quirks AU Midoriya is sadly the loser (it’s in the tags so I’m not spoiling anything.) but there is some amusing interpersonal drama to get to that point. Also nice snarky banter between Todoroki and Bakugou, which is always a treat.

just a stupid button (G, 2.4K) by pyrrhicwildfire. Katsuki informs Todoroki on the meaning of asking for the second button from a guy's gakuran.

There’s some dark recs on here so have some fluff. Non-Japanese people love the button tradition, even if it is a little archaic in real life according to my two minutes of research. Another great button fic is The Right Buttons by TDRKBKGO

Morendo Memories (M, WIP) by MeikoAtsushi. There are three greatest regrets from this point in his life that Bakugou Katsuki cannot surmount.

The first is that flash of misjudgment.

The second is agreeing to Todoroki’s demands.

The third he never knew, is falling for someone that is going to forget him in the next 30 days.

Or: Todoroki is hit with a quirk that will slowly erase his memories, moves in with Bakugou, and maybe they share some shitty feelings about one another - feelings Todoroki wouldn't remember anyway.

This is one of my all-time favorite fics, but I feel bad putting it on here because it is likely to remain a WIP. It features one of the most creative and devastating quirks I’ve run across. It physically pains me that I’ll probably never know how the author planned to resolve the tragedy. I’ve probably scared you off, but don’t deny yourself the pleasure of reading such a well-constructed and emotionally complex fic.

Oblivious (E, 17.9K) by maisierita. “Bakugou,” Todoroki said. He swallowed. Bakugou watched his throat bob. “Just to be clear, because I know I often misread social cues. Are you propositioning me?”

Bakugou stroked Todoroki’s thigh. Todoroki had been a very straightforward teenager; Bakugou didn’t know the man very well but he suspected this facet of his personality had not greatly changed. “That depends,” he said. “Would you say yes if I were?”

Bakugou and Todoroki ditch Midoriya’s wedding to share some revelations and have some fun on their own. The payoff of years of pining.

so tell me darling, do you wish we’d fall in love? (E, 16K) by TDRKBKGO. He’ll single handedly add hundreds of godless views to Shoto’s videos, returning every night, his soothing voice seeping into Katsuki’s very core until it’s all that matters because it’s safe. He'll let Shoto be his soft whispers in the middle of the night, because damn it, sometimes even he needs those.

Because there’s no way they’d ever meet, right?

Right?

In this AU Bakugou is a Live-streamer and Todoroki is what the author describes as an “ASMRtist& Professional Boyfriend Roleplayer.” Bakugou is an avid consumer of “Shoto’s” videos, but a chance meeting with “Shouto” has him increasingly confused as he tries to separate Shouto from his Shoto persona. This fic also features some hot artwork.

The Truth I Hid (E, 6.2K) by monokuromu (ChiaRoseKuro). He’s forgotten everything about Deku, the shitty weepy fuck that he’s meant to be marrying for the rest of their fucking lives, but Todoroki remembers him? Hell, even Katsuki had almost forgotten about the godawful comparison Kaminari had made all the way back in their first year—but somehow, Todoroki remembers that stupid, throwaway comment.

Todoroki Shouto only remembers the very basics about himself—or half of himself, if Katsuki wants to be mean—but recalls something stupidly insignificant about him, and that…

( I only have one chance left, so I'll pour everything into this moment )

Another Todoroki amnesiac fic but be warned, this is some dark shit, especially if you read the follow-up from Todoroki’s pov. (Doubt Lies in Outstretched Hands) Not for the faint-hearted or Midoriya lovers but otherwise some rewarding mind fuckery.

[neochan]

GENRE | smut, idolverse!

WARNINGS | smut

WC | 2.6k +

A.N | this is a repost of my older work. i hope you enjoy it <3

You could still hear the unintelligible screaming of thousands of fans as the boys filtered off the stage and into the greenroom. Another successful concert in the long string of tour stops. You couldn’t even remember what state you were in because the days of traveling, unpacking, setting up, and doing it all again the next day ran together.

The boys were dripping sweat, immediately grabbing bottles of water and towels to wipe themselves off. They had worked harder than normal today since during one of the sets the microphone cut out and they had to perform acapella. Someone was getting fired for that.

Taeyong flopped onto the leather couch dominating the center of the room, water in one hand, phone in the other. “People are already uploading photos.” He outstretches his arm so the others could view the pictures pulled up on his screen.

“Johnny you look ridiculous,” you point out, laughing as a fan had caught Johnny in the act of wildly waving his light stick.

“I was having a good time, okay?” He chuckles and walks into the dressing rooms to change out of his stage outfit. Half of the group filtered out to change and half stayed to peruse through the gifts left by venue staff and play on their phones until told otherwise.

You were wondering where Hyuck was when you heard his voice from the hallway. He saunters in and gives you a kiss on the cheek, “Enjoy the show?” His golden skin was tainted pink, hair matted to his forehead by the sweat that was trickling down the side of his face. He grabbed his shirt and lifted it to swipe at his face, revealing his cute tummy. You had to resist the urge to poke it.

“I enjoyed hearing thousands of pretty fans scream your name” You give him a smirk knowing that he hates when you downplay your relationship.

He nudges you with his shoulder, “You know I meant the songs,” his doe eyes look into yours, his long lashes brushing against his cheek when he blinked “Besides, you know I love you and only you.”

Mark began to nervously giggle in the corner while Doyoung made fake gagging noises from the vanity he sat at. “Oh, shut up.” You say, throwing empty water bottles at the two, “And hurry up I wanna go swimming before it gets too late.”

The ride home was peaceful once the swarms of fans cleared a path for the bus. Per the managers request you slouched down in your seat so know one could see you through the window. It didn’t make much sense because the windows were tinted, but Haechan had to argue for his life to allow them to let you tag along on the tour, so you didn’t question them. Once you were on the road, you sat back up and snuggled close to Haechans side. He rested his hand on your thigh, absentmindedly stroking you with his thumb. His head leaned back against the seat, eyes closed, listening to music. It was so loud you could almost make out the words but you didn’t say anything – you let him stay in his post concert utopia for the whole trip.

The hotel was about an hour away from the venue so that no one would find them, and they’d be closer to their next destination. It was nicer than the others because it actually had a pool. You and Haechan made an agreement to go swimming after the concert, and you couldn’t wait. The staff also rented more rooms, so instead of four people to a bed, it was just you and Haechan.

After checking in everyone filtered off to their rooms leaving the both of you to freely do whatever you wanted - within reason of course. You both got changed, your gaze admiring the hard lines of Haechans back. “Don’t stare.” He blushed, wrapping a towel around his upper body.

You pulled on your bikini which made Haechan go silent. You specifically picked this one because it brought out your skin tone well, and cupped your features beautifully. “Now who’s staring?”

It never failed. The butterfly feeling you got in the pit of your stomach when Haechan watched you with loving eyes. You wrapped a towel around your waist, allowing Haechans eyes to roam the tops of your breasts, peeking out from the almost too small bathing suit.

His cheeks turned pink once he noticed he was caught, “Let’s go”.

The hallways were quiet since it was almost midnight, so you wordlessly made your way down the stairs and out into the night air. It had grown considerably cooler than when guys first arrived that morning, but the sky made up for it. Pretty stars pricked the vast expanse of dark blue and black infinity. You could see the moon peaking out from behind a single cloud, casting a shadowed glow on Haechans honey skin.

The gate was closed when you walked up to it so you stopped to read, “Aw man, the pool closed an hour ago,” You set your lips in a pout, “no wonder the lights weren’t on.”

“Hey it’s okay, no lights, no cameras, they probably wont even notice we’re here if we keep quiet.” He moves closer to you, eyebrows raised expectant for an answer.

You hesitated wondering if you really could pull it off, after all you’d been looking forward to this for the whole day, “I don’t wanna get in trouble..”

“You said you wanted to swim and I’m going to make sure that happens,” He gets down on one knee, “step on my leg, I'm gonna help you jump the fence.”

He boots you over, and grabs your arms to help lower you on the other side, but his hand slips and his nails dig into your shoulder. “Ow, fuck.” You wince rubbing the spot he scratched.

“Sorry, sorry” He says giggling, jumping the fence with such quietness and ease that it looked unreal. “Come on, dare you to do a canon ball!?”

He ran ahead throwing his towel on one of the pool chairs and jumping in the water. You cringe away from the loud slap his body hitting the water made. You walk slowly to the chair, deeply inhaling the addictive chlorine scent.

He finally stands up waist deep in the water and pushes his hair back. The blue water reflected against him, making his skin sparkle. “Come into the water y/n” he splashed some water into your general direction, but not enough to touch you.

“Okay, Okay.” You drop the towel and slip into the water. It was cold. Really cold. You gasp and recoil away, but not fast enough, because Haechan has wrapped his arms around you and started carrying you towards the deep end. You struggle a bit in his grip but his arms provide an iron cage that you can’t get out of. “Haechan let me go!”

He presses a warm kiss to the back on your neck but doesn’t comply with your wishes, instead making a curve and bringing you towards the underwater benches. He fixes his hold on you so that now he’s carrying you bridal style. You stare up at him, water droplets falling off his chin. His eyes were already red from the chlorine and you hoped that it cleared up by tomorrow nights concert. His plush lips sat in a pout, strong jaw set. He was so very pretty; and all yours. You smiled to yourself, deciding to keep that image locked away in your memory forever.

Once he gets to the benches he sets you down and glides in beside you. “You know It’s colder than I thought it was going to be.” He lifts a hand and sheepishly rubs the back of heck, “and you look way hotter in that bikini than I thought you would.”

“I don’t know if that’s supposed to be a dig or a compliment.” You scoot closer to him so that your thighs were pressed against each other. Finding his hand underwater, you intertwine your fingers with his own.

“A compliment babe.” He chuckles and slouches in the water so that only his head sat above it. You both sit there for a moment until it becomes too cold to sit still.

“Well I’m going to put it to use and go swim.” You push off from the cement and paddle around. The only way to stay slightly warm was to keep moving. Haechan watched you, eyes crinkled in a smile, bottom lip caught between his teeth. It was fun to watch you play in the water but the bathing suit was making him think of other things you two could be doing.

And that was how it stayed. Haechan watching while you performed for him.

A while had passed, the calm exterior of the pool getting to you, making you drowsy. The cold blue water washed over your hands while you gently skimmed the surface, making your way over to where Haechan was. You hummed a short tune under your breath, trying to keep yourself distracted. it was close to one in the morning now, but Haechan still sat on the bench, slightly shivering from the brisk air, hands gripping his thighs under the water while his mind wandered far away from the present.

“Watcha thinkin’ about” you ask, moving closer to him, hoping to catch some lingering body warmth.

“Fucking you ,” he moved off the seat and dove under the surface, only leaving small ripples in his wake. You stand there for a second wonder how he could be so blunt, so forward in his desires; he was never like this.

He swam a single circle around your body before popping up in front of you, giving you a mini heart attack. He pushes you back against the tiled walls, “I’ve spent the last hour thinking about fucking you. Thinking about how pretty you’d sound.” His head dips down to kiss along your collarbone, and your hands grab the back of neck, holding him there while his tongue sucked bruises into your tender skin. His hands grazed the bare skin of your arms, giving you goosebumps.

He moaned into the side of your neck, biting and sucking away, wanting you to yearn for him like he did for you. He lifted his head so that his mouth hung over yours, his small puffs of breath fanning over your face while he tests the waters. “Can I kiss you?”

Without giving him an answer you pull him closer by the roots of his hair. His kissing was messy and sweet, and while your tongues moved together, his hips began rubbing circles against you, trying to gain some friction in the cool water. Small heavy breaths were the only sound you could hear, aside from the occasional splash as Haechan moved restlessly.

Your hand wandered down his chest and below the surface to where you could feel him straining against his shorts. You began to stroke him over the fabric, his hips pushing against your touch. He broke the kiss to watch as you peeled down the elastic from his hips, his cock freed from the restricting material of his swim shorts. You watched him twitch slightly as the cold water met his length.

“You can’t make any noise.” You place a single finger against his lips.

“No promises.” He whispers, a devilish smirk breaking way on his face. His hands caress you thighs, pushing your bottoms to the side. The cold water hit you, making you gasp and push into Haechan who just whimpers against your touch.

He tried to stay quiet, only soft grunts between gritted teeth and muffled moans as his hips pushed into your own. The water created resistance but it just enhanced how good he was feeling. He hurriedly grabs at your legs, pulling them up so that they sat around his waist. Your back dragged up the tiled walls, scraping your tender skin, but you could only focus on Haechans cock thrusting deeply in and out of you. He stared longingly into your eyes, filling you up completely, wanting to savor the way they fluttered in the back of your head.

“You love the way I fill you up huh?” He groans into your ear, a hand falling forward to grip the cement ledge of the pool.

You couldn’t respond without fear of moaning so you nod your head wildly. He began to bite and suck at your collarbone, pushing you closer to the edge. Looking down he sees your nipples, erect, poking through the wet fabric of your bathing suit. His eyes grow wide, hips stuttering into you. Fuck you were hot.

“Haechannie, I think I’m going to come.” You squeezed your eyes shut trying to focus on the feeling coiling in your stomach.

“Not yet.” He growls, hands moving to pin your wrists against the cement ledge, “Hold it princess, I know you can.” The water began to slosh around faster as Haechan thrusted harder into you. The sound was so loud its no wonder you didn’t hear the keys jangling against the hip of the guard making his way towards you two.

“Hey!,” he shouts running towards you, “The pool is closed! Get out! Are you two-” He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence as you and Haechan spring up out of fear and take off. It was easy to push yourself up onto the pool deck. The guard made the mistake of following you two and leaving the gate unattended. You and Haechan ran out, giggling, making your way back into the hotel. You didn’t stop until you got into the room and slammed the door behind you.

With your heart hammering in your chest you lean against the dark cherry wood . “Holy fuck we could’ve gotten in serious trouble.” You gasp out, clutching a hand against your wet bathing suit top.

“Babe we’ll be gone by morning, no one is gonna know.” Haechan paces in front of you trying to catch his breath. His shorts hung dangerously low on his hips, it was miracle he got them up in time.

“We’re so banned from this hotel.” A knock on the door makes you jump away from it, the worst of punishment's filling your mind. What were they going to do? They couldn’t arrest you, could they?

Haechan walks forward and turns the knob slowly, revealing a sleepy Doyoung. His oversized t-shirt hung off one shoulder showing off his gaunt collarbone. He was rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“What do you want Doie?” you ask softly.

“How was getting chased by the guard?” he gives a sleepy chuckle, still half in his dreams.

“How did you-,” A look of realization hits Haechan, “You reported us?” He whined, pushing Doyoungs bare shoulder so that he stumbled back.

“Sound travels over water dumbasses and you guys were loud, I was trying to sleep!” Protesting, he pushes Haechans wet shoulder back.

“Well, now we’re going to be twice as loud.” Haechan slams the door in Doyoungs face and grabs you, throwing you on the bed. You give a squeal, and hear Doyoungs fist hit the door.

“I swear I’ll make a noise complaint.” He sounded more irritated than sleepy now.

“Go ahead, you’re just mad I’m getting laid and you aren't.” You playfully slap Haechans arm, but he nips at your hand. The other side of the door grows silent, Doyoung either going to report you two, or going back to his room defeated.

“Shall we pick up where we left off princess?”

[vendettaparker]

What a Dumbass [P.P]

Summary: Peter’s mistake leads to you being injured. 

Pairing: Peter Parker x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: Swearing, like a substantial amount, suggestive content kinda, gun shot wound, and flustered!Peter 

a/n: I really liked writing this. I couldn’t stop laughing at some of the dialogue. and the mistake peter made to cause the whole set-up of the story is so funny to me. like i can legit see him making this mistake. also, i’m gonna make a permanent tag list, so please send me an ask or message me if you want to be on it! <3

        ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

     Peter Benjamin Parker is a fucking dumbass. All the time mostly. Most of the time his dumbassery leads to a lot of annoyed avengers, a lot of clean up, and a lot of spilled secrets. Hence why like three people who definitely shouldn’t know he is Spider-man do. But every once in while his idiocy can lead to an unexpected happily ever after, at least until he fucks something up again. 

     This particular fuck up has yet to be determined as a happy accident or your new 13th reason. It all started when that spider bitch decided it’d be a good idea to watch some explicit content on his laptop. Now, this wasn’t particularly an unknown activity for him to partake in, since we all know about his little impromptu purchase in Germany, but unbeknownst to this dork, his aunt was in the next room over working on a tear in his suit. And to make matters worse, he accidentally just so happened to purchase a subscription using said aunt’s credit card that was pre-setup in his laptop. 

     Now May is a very understanding woman. Very sex-positive, very loving, and inclusive; the whole shebang really. So when she happened to catch this idiot doing what he most certainly shouldn’t have been doing, she wasn’t mad, just thoroughly disturbed. Then she got the notification about the purchase. That was a bit more taboo in her eyes. So Peter was grounded from patrolling for a week and his laptop privileges were revoked for two weeks. That was fucking merciful compared to what this whole fuck up put you through. 

     At the school that following Monday, Peter spent the whole first, second, fourth, and lunch period trying to convince you to take over patrol for a week. Sure, you could definitely handle it, not to pat yourself on the back or anything, but you were significantly stronger than Peter, so it shouldn’t have been that big of a deal. But you just really didn’t want to. Peter had his ‘Peter Tingle’ to help him find danger, while you’d actually have to look. It just seemed harder for you to do than it would be for him. 

     “Why are you even grounded?” You sighed after Peter's 3rd time bringing up the possibility of you patrolling for him at lunch. 

     “He got caught watching and buying p—” Ned started laughing.

     “Ned! Shut up!” Peter yelled, slapping his hand over his friend's mouth. 

     “How has your identity not been leaked yet, Jesus Christ.” You mumbled, giggling. You flipped through your chemistry textbook, writing notes to prepare for Friday’s quiz. 

     “Yeah, and how come you didn’t know May was home?” Ned pushed Peter’s hand away. “Where was your ‘Peter Tingle’ then?” 

     “She’s not a threat, dude. But shit, I really wish my tingle detected her.” Peter groaned, a deep blush covering his features. “Please (Y/N). I really, really don’t wanna leave Queens without any protection for a week. I’ll try to convince May to let me go out on the weekend, so really it’s only five days.” 

     “I guess I could help you out, but you owe me. I should really spend this time studying for my chemistry test. Iron bitch is gonna have my head on a spike if I fail another chem test.” You said, highlighting more notes. 

     “Okay! Delmar’s for a week, anytime, anywhere.” Peter said putting his hand out for you to shake. 

     “Make it a month, I know my worth.” 

     Peter hesitated, but eventually gave in, “Fine, but you better do a good job.” 

        ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

     So now you were stuck patrolling from 8:30 to 11:00 every night. It wasn't bad per se, and nothing too eventful happened. You stopped a small convenience store robbery, gave a few kids some tips at the skatepark, ran some errands for an old lady, and saved a cat from a tree. Thursday night was the real kicker though. Your night had barely started and you accidentally got in the middle of a drug deal between some smaller mob and a real messed-up junkie. This should’ve been an easy takedown, only six people in total that needed to be taken out, but like was mentioned before, you don’t have Peter’s goddamn, stupid fucking tingle. So after taking all six of the perps out you started to walk away after alerting the police. Unfortunately, one of those assclowns had come to, and grabbed the gun a few feet away from him and shot it towards you. The bullet went through your thigh and out the other side. Screaming in shock and pain, you used your own throwing knives and knocked the gun out of the mobster’s hand, then you proceeded to knock him out again with a few good punches to his noggin, maybe a few more, just for good measure. But this wound would need to be cleaned and stitched up. And if you went back to the Tower, Steve and Tony would give you an earful about “watching your surroundings” and “being more careful”. So in a moment of pure adrenaline and desperation, you texted Peter. 

You: are you home

Spider-Dork: Yeah, why?

You: i’ll be there in 5 

Spider-Dork: What? Why? Is everything ok?

Spider-Dork: Hello??? (Y/N)????

(Y/N) declined (3) calls 

Spider-Dork: Answer my calls idiot. 

     Peter’s texting and constant calling was cut short from a crash in his room. 

     “(Y/N)? Is that you?” Peter called from the couch in the living room. 

     “Yeah, can I borrow a t-shirt?” You called, fumbling around accidentally knocking over another lamp. “Oops, sorry!”

     “Uh, yeah sure. In the closet!” Peter called back pausing his show, prepared to make his way over to you. 

     “And some sweats?” You called back, blood dripping all over Peter’s hardwood floor. 

     Peter got up to make his way to his room. “Yeah, second drawer on the left side.” He said as he made his way to his bedroom. Knowing you were in there, most likely changing, he knocked. “You decent?” 

     “Nope, not really. I need a pair of your boxers too, though.” You called through the door, now seeing that the blood splattered on your underwear as well. “Also, bring the first aid kit when you come in.” 

     ‘What? Why?” Peter said in a more stressed tone, pushing his way into the room, completely ignoring the fact that you were very much not decent. “Holy shit.” He said seeing you out of your suit, in your bra and underwear, blood dripping down your right leg, pooling onto the floor. Your hand, red and bloody, pressed onto what he only assumed was the wound and blood seeping through your fingers. 

     “Bring a mop too.” 

     Peter ran out of the room to grab the first aid kit, plus some extra bandages and a cleaning solution. When he came back in he found you in the same state, standing in the middle of the room, eyebrows furrowed in pain, clutching your right thigh. 

     “What the hell happened?” He gasped, motioning for you to sit on his bed. You hesitated, not wanting to mess up his sheets. He seemed to notice your thought process quickly adding, “I have to wash my sheets anyway.” 

     “Gross.” You mumbled, scrunching up your face in disgust and finally settling down on his bed. 

     “Move your hand and tell me what happened,” Peter said kneeling on the floor next to the bed, positioned right at your hips. You removed your hand, bloody instantly seeping onto the bed. Peter winced looking at the hole in your leg, quickly grabbing the peroxide and dumping heaps of it onto your leg, much to your distaste. 

     “I got shot.” You stated as he cleaned the blood around the hole with alcohol pads.

     “Well, no shit. I mean by who and how?” 

     “Mobster. Sneaky bitch got me while I was walking away.” You winced as Peter inspected the wound further. 

     “I need to stitch this up. Did it go all the way through?” He said lifting your leg to look underneath for an exit wound. 

     “Yeah.” Peter found the exit wound and held your leg up with one hand, pouring peroxide on the back of your thigh with the other. 

     “You have to be more careful, (Y/N)! This looks really nasty.” Peter scolded, setting your leg back down and prepping the needle and sutures. “What if this was in your chest? Or—or if you didn’t get here in time? You could’ve bled out!” 

     “Well sorry that I don’t have your stupid tingle to help me out when I’m being fucking shot at!” You yelped, gripping the bedsheets. 

     “You don’t need spidey sense, you need fucking common sense,” Peter mumbled, stitching his first suture.

     “What the fuck did you just say?” You looked at him incredulously. 

     “I— uh, nothing.” Peter huffed, focusing back on stitching you up.

     “This is your all your fault, to begin with!” You accused, shifting uncomfortably, due to the needle constantly being stuck into your leg. “You’re the one that begged me to go on patrol for you! You’re the dumb bitch that got caught watc—” 

     “Ok! Shut up! For God’s sake, you’re never gonna let me live that down.” Peter groaned, finishing up the last stitch. “Flip over.” He commanded, pushing at the side of your waist to help with the movement. 

     “Well, it was fucking dumb. Don’t you check to make sure nobody’s home? God, we all know you’re a vocal bitch too.” You said, fully situated on your stomach. 

     “What the fuck is that suppose to mean!?” He gasped, prepping another needle. 

     “You’re a sensitive boy.” You shrugged, wincing when Peter started his next stitch. 

     “I-I am not sensitive! I’m emotionally and physically staunch!” He defended, going in for another stitch. 

     You just raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Sure, whatever you say, babe.” You winked at him, blowing an exaggerated kiss. 

     “You're a jerk,” Peter mumbled, finishing up his stitching job. “A jerk with a fucked up leg.” 

     You hummed, quite amused. Peter got up and started to collect his medical supplies. He shuffled out of the room to put everything away. When he returned you were trying to get up and walk, wincing at every slight movement. 

     “Here, let me just—” Peter lifted you up, bridal style. A small yelp coming from you when a sharp pain shot through your leg. “Sorry.”

     “It’s fine. Can you help me get dressed?” You said as he walked you over to his desk and set you down in his desk chair. 

     “Sure.” Peter blushed, painfully aware of your lack of clothes. He picked out some clothes from his closet and drawers. He helped you into them, wallowing in the uncomfortable silence, taking in each whimper and wince from you whenever he brushed against your thigh. 

     “Fuck, I’m so sorry.” He sighed after you were all dressed. “This is my fault.” 

     You looked at his distraught face, feeling bad for initially blaming him for the events of tonight. “No, Pete. It’s fine. I should’ve made sure all of the guys were knocked out.” You put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze.

     “No, I should’ve been more careful when I was watching that stuff. I have my spidey sense, I would’ve been able to avoid getting shot. It’s not your fault that you didn’t get bit by a radioactive spider.”

     “Pete, really, I’ll be better by next week anyway. It’s fine.” 

     Peter shook his head, sighing. “I just feel so bad, I shouldn’t have forced patrolling on you.” You hugged him and rubbed his back soothingly. “It’s my fault you got hurt.” 

     “Peter stop. It’s just an unfortunate accident.” You mumbled, hugging him closer. “It could’ve happened to anyone.”

     “But it didn’t happen to just anyone (Y/N), it happened to you. And I caused it. I-I don't know what I’d do if something ever happened to you. What if it was worse?”

     You sighed, pulling away from Peter and cupping his face, seeing the regret and shame pooling in his eyes. Without much thought, you pulled him closer, slowly connecting your lips in a sweet kiss. Truly getting lost in the feeling of his lips against yours, the feeling of perfection. 

     Peter’s eyes widened in shock for a moment, before he was kissing you back, reveling in the feeling he’s been dreaming about for months. You finally pulled away to catch your breath. Peter flushed at your actions, unable to stop the wide smile crossing his features. 

     “Sorry,” You mumbled sheepishly, “just needed to shut you up for a second.”

     “Maybe I should talk more, just to see what happens,” Peter smirked, pulling you in for another shorter, but just as sweet, kiss. 

     You hummed against his lips. “I really like you. Even when you're a dumbass.” You sighed against his lips.

     “The feeling is mutual.” 

     “Rude. I’m not a dumbass.” You gasped in faux offense. 

     “You’re the one with a bullet wound.” he deadpanned 

     “You’re the one who got caught watchin—”

     “(Y/N)!”