#and like most of the replies just lost patience with them and started being mean within like. a few sentences

[bug-the-chicken-nug]

So, I couldn't find much else on this post about like. How to actually go about alternatives beyond "just suck it up and do it"

So I'll try, as someone who will admit that they used Gen AI in the last few months, but also does write all of their public fics without it, has been writing fics on their own for years before it, and has now gone back to distancing themself from AI. First, elephant in the room: It *did* get less approachable to RP with real people, and it *is* really hard to be brave enough to do it. Having to rely so much on Discord nowadays really *does* feel like a big step backwards. I also feel it's reductive to blame this specific phenomenon on AI. To me, it feels like AI is just well-timed to capitalize on a decline that was in motion regardless. And realistically, your most approachable friends usually don't share *ALL* your interests. Sometimes an idea being weird or uncomfortable ISN'T just in your head, and not just anyone is suitable for it. It really is hard. Of course, hard things can be worth it, but we need to stop downplaying it and being so quick to discard compassion and ignore people's struggles. (and no, compassion doesn't have to mean you just enable them) Otherwise, they're not actually going to stop or really learn anything beyond "well, now i've made them all mad at me, so that's even more reason not to RP, I already ruined it for myself" Like. Anxiety *sucks* at grasping "people won't be mad forever". A lot of the time, it *feels* like "they all still hate you, they just decided to be polite about it" Personally, I still don't really RP, and I'm still afraid of it. But my general approach to hard things is to take a few deep breaths and just take the first step before I can talk myself out of it. Then let yourself feel the discomfort. Let yourself see that it's not going to harm you. Keep breathing. As for writing, I have plenty more experience there, but that's hard too. It's often slow, tedious, thankless, and I've gotten criticism that I would genuinely call traumatic. Again, I don't actually think AI is to blame for perceived reductions in fic engagement, either. People who don't want to read a fic were always going to find *something* to do besides read that fic. IMO, the only real option is to try to reduce your need for attention and approval, and keep in mind that people just naturally aren't in the mood to read fics 24/7. Do your best to calmly let self-doubting thoughts about it pass over you without feeding further into them or taking them as fact. I also feel like we don't really talk about how much harder it is to do things when you get past the age where you were able to confidently be bad. Devoting yourself to something that feels miserable and constantly makes you anxious and scared is extremely difficult. Start small. Aim for short, achievable things. Try to teach yourself that you're capable of *something*, and try to find people who are actually willing to be attentive and supportive. (Which is another thing that's way harder than people on this post keep claiming it is. A Ton of fandoms are tiny and/or mostly dead.) I would suggest starting with posting basic scenarios and ideas rather than actual stories. It gets notes and attention without all the commitment, especially if you keep at it, so then it's much easier to pick out people who'll be interested and supportive in the first place. As for private writing, it's once again the kind of thing that gets easier when you start. I myself often have to sit in the word document with no other distractions for upwards of 45 minutes before I finally feel like I'm able to make actual progress. "Just write a sentence or paragraph every day" flat out doesn't work on me, because I have to invest so much into getting the ball rolling for each session that I *can't* just "pop in" and do a little at a time. And don't be afraid to write out of order or write small snippet scenarios, either. I've lost loads of productivity to being irrationally uncomfortable with writing "out of order", or not writing a "proper" longform story.

[un-lawliet]

WHAT IF teen!Gojo and teen!reader are best friends teetering on the edge of lovers but they get into a petty little argument and start ignoring each other right???? so reader goes on a date with someone else to be petty and Gojo internally freaks out. So, him and his friends get in disguises as Gojo tries to sabotage the date without being noticed but instead he accidentally helps the other guy look great and impressive every time💀

Geto, shoko, and Nanami don’t help Satoru. They just watch and laugh😭 good fluffy ending though pls

THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST !!!!! i loved this idea so so much- i kinda tweaked the request slightly but i hope this is ok <3 i love you and thank you for your patience !

“Normal”

- in which you’re on a date with someone that isn’t Gojo.

“Does this count as stalking?”

It absolutely did count as stalking.

Gojo, Shoko, Nanami and Geto were currently huddled in a dimly lit booth hunkering down as to not be seen by you…or your pompous looking date sat opposite you.

“It’s not stalking.” Gojo splutters, glaring at Geto through the top of his sunglasses, “It’s just..just-”

“You tracking Y/N down and making us watch her on a date.” Shoko muses, rolling a cigarette between her fingers, reaching for her lighter.

“Exactly!”

Nanami groans, his head falling backwards, hair falling over the curve of his eyebrows, hiding his face slightly.

Shaking his head, a small grin dances across Geto’s calm face, watching as Gojo pouts and glares at your table, eyes completely trained on your face.

“‘S’not even that good looking, she just has a thing for guys that flatter her.” He grumbles under his breath, flicking the fancy wall he leaned on.

“Think most girls enjoy feelin’ pretty Gojo.” Shoko replies, hand still feeling around in her pocket, “Oh fuck sakes, I’ve lost my lighter…Hey- Geto, you wouldn’t happen to have a spare one on ya?”

Geto nodded, tossing her a purple lighter from across the table, smiling gently as she thanked him.

“You shouldn’t smoke inside.” Nanami mutters, now staring down at the menu in-front of him, finger tracing along the prices in thought, seeming to pause on the brownie section.

“No one can see, we’re fine.” She sighs, taking a drag and blowing it towards Gojo, grinning as he dramatically clutches his chest, gasping for air.

“What’s the point of us even being here Gojo.” Nanami huffs, side eyeing the bakery stand parallel to their table.

“Because, I need to show her that this..this loser is nothing compared to me!”

“I don’t know Satoru.” Geto muses, taking a sip of his camomile, “Y/N seems pretty into him.”

“Suguru!” Gojo gasps in horror, betrayal dripping from his voice and on to the curve of his disgusted face.

Shoko wiggles her eyebrows teasingly, inhaling before continuing. “He has a point Gojo, I mean look, you ever see her smile like that?”

Gojo whips his head around to stare at you, and Shoko covers her mouth to hide a poorly restrained giggle, sharing a glance with Geto.

“I make her smile like that- She smiles like that with me!!” He whines, and Nanami rolls his eyes.

A waitress smashes a glass from behind the café’s counter, you jump slightly in your seat and turn to look over at the sound, you don’t notice the group of strange looking teenagers ducking down at your movement, concealing themselves poorly in their seats.

Your date laughs at you, you blush and turn back to him bashfully, excusing yourself for being so on edge.

Gojo glares.

“So what’s the plan then Gojo.” Nanami drawls, resting his face on his palm.

“Yes! The plan!” Gojo splutters, looking away from your pretty, pretty face to look at the three of them.

He hesitates and Shoko groans.

“You do have a plan don’t you?”

“Of course I do!..So, the plan..the plan um, well-”

“He has no plan.” Geto interrupts.

“Jesus Christ Gojo.”

“Does that mean I can leave?”

“Shut up!” Gojo exclaims, “I’m thinking give me a second would ya?”

“Nanami if your leaving I’m coming with you.”

“Wanna go now Shoko?”

“Guys!”

Gojo slumps forward in his chair, his face resting on the table as he whines.

Geto rests a hand on his back and chuckles, shaking his head at the two other sorcerers.

“It’s ok Satoru, we can all figure something out ‘kay?”

“Yea?” Gojo replies, his voice muffled by the table.

“Yea.”

Instantly, Gojo springs up, his eyes as wide as his smile.

“Ok let’s brainstorm.” Geto suggest, his voice like honey as he removes his hand from Gojo’s back and reaches back to his tea.

“What if we spill tea over him!” Gojo gasped, pointing towards the cup in Geto’s hand, a sharp look crossing his face.

“Stupid. Y/N would see us.” Shoko grumbles.

“No- See Shoko, the point of a brain storming session means we make suggestions and listen without judgement.” Gojo argues, crossing his arms.

“Yea but your idea was stupid.” Nanami concludes, watching as Shoko nods.

“You suggest something then Nanamin!”

“I’m suggesting nothing, this whole idea is foolish.”

“OoOoh “Foolish” is it?”

“I’m leaving.”

Nanami stands up reaching for his bag, scowling at Gojo.

“Hey, hey Nanami c’mon ignore him he’s just..” Geto pauses with a quick regard to Gojo, “He’s just Satoru.”

“An idiot.” Shoko chimes.

“Yes, an idiot.”

Nanami sighs as he sits down, placing his brown bag back at his feet reluctantly ignoring Gojo’s grin.

“…What if we trip up the waitress as she’s bringing them their food.” Shoko suggests, twirling a piece of hair around her finger.

“That could work!”

“No, Satoru, that just causes trouble to the waiting staff.”

“And?”

Geto rolls his eyes, “We don’t need to cause anyone any trouble just because you’re too afraid to just ask Y/N out.”

“I am not afraid!” Gojo moans, putting his face in his hands.

“Uh huh, that’s why you fell out with her when she told you about the date.” Shoko laughs, wiping off ash from her arm.

“What was I supposed to do?” Gojo queries, frowning.

“Talk to her?” Nanami deadpans, “Like a normal person.”

“Our Gojo isn’t normal though.” Shoko winks, nudging an unamused Nanami.

“Focus guys.” Geto says, clapping his hands twice to draw attention.

Your sweet laugh echoes through the cafe, and Gojo pouts, shoulders slumping.

You were supposed to be sitting opposite him laughing.

It was supposed to be his food with which you shared.

And yet one petty argument about some random guy you had met in returning from your last mission asking you out, had ruined everything.

The shared glances between you and Gojo, how you leaned on his shoulder when you slept in classes, the way he would always keep an eye on your cursed energy when joining you in battle.

All those little moments had dissolved in the bitter moments after you informed him of your date, a small smile dancing in your eyes.

“He said I was pretty Toru’” You had said, your eyes wide, and Gojo wanted to cover the love sick gleam glistening in your eyes with his hand.

“I always think your pretty.” He mumbled, watching you cock your head in confusion.

“What was that?” You questioned, leaning towards him slightly, trying to recall his quiet words.

“Nothin’.” His curt response didn’t phase you as you moved backwards, a charming skip in your step.

“Think he sounds stupid.” Gojo was never good at expressing his true feelings, and in that moment, Gojo’s sheer panic over you leaving him overpowered his aloofness.

“You think someone thinking I’m pretty is stupid?” Your shoulders fell, and you turn to him, a small lour crossing your face.

“What? No? That’s not what I-”

“It what’s you said though Toru’” You sighed, and Gojo cursed at himself for the glimmer of insecurity that appeared to vex you in that moment.

“It’s just- Well he’s just stupid.”

“So you are calling him stupid for telling me I’m pretty.”

“No! He’s stupid! Not his words!”

“That’s the same thing Gojo!”

“Is not!”

“Is too!”

And now Gojo’s watching as Geto summons one of his smallest and weakest curses to push your stupid dates chair over, sunglasses off and held in his fist.

“Oh so we’re actually going with this plan? I wasn’t imagining it?” Shoko muses, stealing a forkful of Nanami’s brownie.

“Nobody else had any better ideas.” Gojo silenced, waving a hand in her direction, practically clamouring on top of Geto to watch.

“Satoru watch it, I can’t see where my curse is going with you on me.” Geto scolds, brushing the white haired man off.

“I can’t believe this is happening.” Nanami’s disinterest oozes out from his voice, nudging his plate over to Shoko who smiles brightly at his offer.

Geto flexes his hand, ensuring that the curse went unnoticed by you, it ducked under a table and weaved between chair legs.

“Make sure Y/N doesn’t see it!” Gojo panics, his hand covering his mouth.

Geto pauses, and looks over his shoulder towards Gojo, eyebrow raised.

“…Sit down Satoru.”

And Gojo immediately drops, hands on his legs.

The curse bobbles over to under your dates chair, and Geto smiles, before releasing his hold.

.

.

.

The sound of your dates chair toppling over boomed through the cafe, and with a swift flick of his finger, the curse dissapears, and all four of the sorcerer’s immediately drop their heads.

“Oh my God? Are you ok?!” Your concerned voice follows, and you stand up instantly, rushing towards your date, who grins at you from the floor.

“Oops, must have slipped.” He smiles, accepting your hand in helping in up, wiping the memory of his fall off of his jeans. “At least I have a pretty lady to help me in my moment of weakness.”

You giggle, and push his shoulder, “Oh shush you tease.” Bending over to pick up his chair.

“Oh no don’t worry I got it.” Your date winks, helping you lift the chair.

“How??!?!” Gojo groans, watching you swoon, “What is happening?”

“Man.. She must really like him eh?” Shoko offers, sharing a cheeky smile with Geto.

“Maybe it’s hopeless.” Nanami chimes in, “Do you want to finish this?” He asks Shoko, gesturing to the half eaten brownie.

“Actually?”

“Yea go on, you seem to be enjoying it.”

“Maybe.” Geto cuts in, “Maybe we should just leave them be? Let it fizzle out naturally?”

“What if there is no naturally Suguru.” Gojo mopes, kicking the leg of the table.

“Gojo it’s obvious she likes you, and it’s obvious you’re both smitten.” Shoko says, her voice muffled and she finishes Nanami’s brownie.

“..You think?”

“Everyone thinks.” Nanami replies, “Haibara thought you two were dating when we first joined the school.”

“How is Haibara by the way?” Geto questioned, “Why didn’t he join us?”

“Not sure, he said something about needing more sleep before his first solo mission.”

“Isn’t that next week?” Shoko adds.

“He likes his sleep.”

“Come on guys! Focus!!” Gojo exclaims. “I’m in a dire situation here!!”

“A dire situation that could be solved with a conversation, Gojo.” Nanami rolls his eyes.

“Try the curse again Suguru.”

“Satoru it didn’t work once, it probably won’t work a second time.”

“Ugh.” Gojo slumps back, a sigh escaping his lips. “If you’re all so sure Y/N likes me, then why is she with that loser right now?”

“She probably got tired waiting for you to make a move Gojo.” Shoko replies.

“Yea the “will they, won’t they” becomes tiresome after a while.” Geto agrees, pushing his empty cup towards the middle of the table.

“Ah!” Shoko says pointing over at you.

“They’re leaving Gojo.” Nanami affirms, joining Shoko in pointing.

“What?!?” Gojo gapes, “No!”

Geto laughs, shoving Gojo to his feet, watching you leave the cafe. “Go get her Satoru.”

“But how?” Gojo moans.

“Just go!” They all exclaim, and Gojo pauses for a split second before he’s bounding towards the door.

By the time he’s outside, you’re waving goodbye to your date, promising to call him as he walks the other way.

You look happy he thinks, and suddenly feels very out of place.

Gojo’s begins to turn to go back into the cafe, admitting defeat, when he hears your voice behind him.

“Gojo?” You gasp, disbelief permeating from your voice. And Gojo freezes, turning around awkwardly to face you.

“Hi.” Gojo replied, scuffing his shoes against the ground as he approaches you, hands in his pockets attempting to appear cool.

You look at him, your mouth slightly agape as you fiddle with the sleeve of your jumper, processing his appearance.

“You followed me to my date?” You ask accusingly, glancing around.

“He didn’t offer to take you home?” Gojo chooses to ignore you, refusing to acknowledge the implication of your words.

“I told him I could go back by myself.”

“Some guy.”

“Satoru.” You pause, lifting a hand to stop him, “Why are you here?”

A car drives past the pair of you, it’s headlights cast shadows across his perfect face and your hold yourself back from staring.

He stalls, looking at you for a moment. “C’mere, I’ll walk you home.”

“Satoru.”

You’re tired of his deflections, for once you just want to talk.

You both stare at each-other, silence decorating the air between you.

And Gojo shakes his head, stepping backwards and looking away.

“You look good.” He mutters.

“Good?”

“Pretty alright? You look pretty, he was right.”

“My date?”

Gojo’s sunglasses fall down the bridge of his nose slightly as he leans down to look at you.

“Who else?” He muses.

You don’t understand, your heart fluttering pathetically in your chest as you prove further.

“Why are you telling me this now?” You ask, your voice light, scarce of hope.

“Because.” Gojo hesitates, hating how unsure he sounds in this moment. “Because you are.”

You step towards him, it’s a slow movement and Gojo watches you almost cautiously.

“It took me going on a date with someone else for you to finally say something?” You tease, your hands shaking despite the confidence in your words.

“Would have said something without him, y’know?”

“..Really?” Your eyes widen, a tiny grin crossing your face.

Gojo nods, and you take another step and hug him, burying your face in the warmth of his chest.

And Gojo’s smile almost hurts his cheeks as he wraps his arms around your figure, pulling you in closer.

“You’re an idiot.” You mumble, looking up at him.

“But you like me.” He replies, cockily grinning down at you, blue eyes sparkling.

“Yea, I do.” You whisper, clinging to him, moving your head backdown to face his chest, face burning with your confession.

A small kiss is placed on the top of your head and you hold back a giddy laugh, pulling away from his embrace completely.

“So…Does that mean you’ll let me take you out?” Gojo questions, taking your hand and pulling you gently along to walk with him.

“Hmm I don’t know..Are you asking?” Your head leans on his arm, grabbing his arm as you walk.

“I would take you somewhere much better than that shitty cafe.”

And you’re laughing, “You love that cafe Toru.”

And he laughs with you, a long arm circling around your shoulders, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

And Geto, Shoko and Nanami watch from the window of the cafe, shaking their heads.

“Idiots.” Shoko says.

“Completely.” Nanami agrees.

Masterlist <3

Feel free to leave a request !

A/N : HELLLLLOOOO PEOPLE !! ABBY’S BACK !!! thank you for the request sweets this is literally one of my favourite concepts ever I cannot cope!!!! I love teenage Gojo so much :( BUT ALSO Shoko <333333 — i hope everyone is happy and healthy, i finished this at 2am and i have school tmrw pls kill me rn i hope a car hits me when i walk in, genuinley this no longer a joke.

LOVE YOU

[corrodedbisexual]

The ultimate shadow ban survivor guide

I've seen multiple people I follow, or their mutuals affected by shadow bans lately (makes me wonder if it's @staff's attempts to fight bots going totally haywire). As someone who survived a 2-month-long shadow ban on my main this winter, I thought I'd make a post.

First step of being shadow banned: calm down and take a breath. A shadow ban is just a stupid glitch in tumblr's anti-spam system. You're not losing your blog. You're gonna need a whole lot of patience, and deal with inconveniences, but it's fixable.

Read the incredibly useful post All About Shadowban by @that-damn-girl. It outlines the symptoms quite well. The only thing I'd point out is "your original posts won’t be visible to your followers either" - afaik that doesn't happen. Everything you post and reblog will still be visible to your followers, and also they can interact with your posts - like them, reblog them, reply to them.

Just like the post says, contact support. I recommend using a different email than what your banned blog is registered to; not because your ticket won't go through (mine actually did, as I found out when they finally replied), but because you might not receive an email confirmation for your ticket (it's somehow tied to the anti-spam thing, I think), and you're going to worry and try to send more tickets, like I did.

Now wait. And wait, and wait, and wait. They are SLOW. I've seen some miraculous 1-day unbans in the #shadow ban tag, but most people, like me, wait around a month for support to reply. Those are the same guys going through thousands of bot reports every day in addition to user tickets.

If you're going to wait, might as well keep blogging. Now if this is your sideblog that's shadow banned, consider yourself lucky. Make a new temporary sideblog, use it to post your original stuff so it goes into tags (mind that it might take a few days for a new blog to start showing up in tags). Reblog everything to your shadow banned blog so you still have all content in one place and your followers see it. If it's your main that's banned, you can still do that, but there's the extra pain of not being able to reply to posts or send non-anon Asks, since that is only done from main. Might need to register a separate account for that.

Some more fun facts under readmore.

Fun fact #1

Trying to send support follow-up emails in the request confirmation email isn't going to do anything to speed up the process. But I did tweet at them using this tumblr support summoning picture by @cornmayor and offered a raccoon blood sacrifice to resolve my issue when it was like a month with no response. This is what they replied.

3 hours later I got an email that my shadowban was lifted. I honestly don't know if it was a coincidence, but I mean, this is tumblr staff. Maybe they do accept blood sacrifices.

Fun fact #2

If you're wondering why my shadow ban lasted 2 months if I got a support reply after 1 month, well. It's hard to say exactly how their ban/unban system works bc support replies exclusively with pre-written template sentences, but basically they fucked up. The first time they told me my blog has been restored, I gained pretty much all functions back, except that my posts were still not appearing in tags. Which means probably that being hidden from tags is some kind of different flag on your blog that they forgot to remove. So I had to send a follow-up ticket and wait another month.

My advice is, when they tell you it's fixed, don't take that at face value, go and check all the functions you'd lost (replies, messaging, asks, tagging, appearing in notes, getting mentioned by others).

[atopvisenyashill]

do you think there's sufficient evidence in fire and blood's text that rodrik arryn raped daella, even if non-violently and under the sanctity of marriage? i just scrolled through a bunch of reddit arguments on whether or not rodrik and daella's marriage was truly romantic, consensual, and egalitarian one and i know you're the only person who'll answer this question fairly.

I think that these questions about "is there a way to meaningfully consent in this situation where a teenager marries an adult" are like, fundamentally silly. The answer is just objectively no, and it doesn't really matter how you slice it. This is my most firmly "anti" stance and it's not one I'm ever willing to budge on; this is not to say that there isn't some level of romanticism going on in these relationships, but I think it's just goofy and disingenuous to pretend like being 15 and married to a man your father's age doesn't have a massive impact on your growth, maturity, and relationship with sex. Especially in this series where we often do follow these relationships to their very end points, whether happy or tragic, it's just like, supremely stupid to ignore the shady ways that they started out. The age and maturity gap is part of the dynamic! It informs it!

It's not to say these relationships don't have romanticism baked in; I tend to categorize them as "surprisingly healthy" "romantic and destructive" and "completely destructive." I think Rhaenys and Corlys fall under the first one, Dany and Drogo are in the second one, and Lysa and Jon Arryn are in the third. Rhaenys & Corlys aren't excused from having some clear issues in their marriage (hello the Marilda affair and succession issue!!!!) just because their marriage is more or less healthy and consensual, but at the same time, it's silly to pretend like there isn't a romantic element to Dany & Drogo's relationship - the argument here is simply that the destructive element far outweighs the romantic one (and also,,,,, Drogo is simply not a deep character, he doesn't have a character outside of violent warlord but that's a whole other rant). And of course, the Jon-Lysa marriage is just completely destructive to Lysa's sense of self, not to mention the crazy political ramifications of Jon freezing Lysa out.

Now this specific situation....I mean what romanticism is there even to speak about lmao?? first of all, can't point out enough how ddeeply deranged jaehaerys is about this whole thing:

Her sixteenth nameday was fast approaching, and with it her womanhood. Queen Alysanne was at her wit’s end, and the king had lost his patience. On the first day of the 80th year since Aegon’s Conquest, he told the queen he wanted Daella wed before the year’s end. “If she wants I can find a hundred men and line them up before her naked, and she can pick the one she likes,” he said. “I would sooner she wed a lord, but if she prefers a hedge knight or a merchant or Pate the Pig Boy, I am past the point of caring, so long as she picks someone.” “A hundred naked men would frighten her,” Alysanne said, unamused. “A hundred naked ducks would frighten her,” the king replied. “And if she will not wed?” the queen asked. “Maegelle says the Faith will not want a girl who cannot read her prayers.” “There are still the silent sisters,” said Jaehaerys. “Must it come to that? Find her someone. Someone gentle, as she is. A kind man, who will never raise his voice or his hand to her, who will speak to her sweetly and tell her she is precious and protect her…against dragons and horses and bees and kittens and boys with boils and whatever else she fears.”

She's not even 16!!!! Hardly an old maid even by their standards - remember that Catelyn and Brandon's betrothal was made when she was 12 but they didn't set a date until 282, when she was 17 going on 18!!! And there's just no reason why Daella should be rushed into marriage given how many older siblings she has; I mean it's not like they were rushing Lollys Stokeworth into marriage until after her rape during the riot and she was 33, and a lot of that is because she is "simple" and Tanda Stokeworth clearly wants to wait for a husband who is willing to care for her properly. Both Jaehaerys and Gyldayn try to absolve Jaehaerys of responsibility here but there's just no good reason to be threatening to send Daella to the freaking SILENT SISTERS just because she's 15 and doesn't seem interested in marriage. Goofy, silly, noxious behavior here. But moving on to Rodrik.

Queen Alysanne admitted, “but he is the sort you asked for, a kind and gentle man, and he says that he has loved our little girl for years. I know he will protect her.” To the astonishment of every woman at the court, save mayhaps the queen, Princess Daella chose Lord Rodrik to be her husband. “He seems good and wise, like Father,” she told Queen Alysanne, “and he has four children! I’m to be their new mother!” What Her Grace thought of that outburst is not recorded. Grand Maester Elysar’s account of the day says only, “Gods be good.” ...Nor was there a bedding. “Oh, I could not bear that, I should die of shame,” the princess had told her husband to be, and Lord Rodrik had acceded to her wishes. Afterward, Lord Arryn took his princess back to the Eyrie. “My children need to meet their new mother, and I want to show the Vale to Daella. Life is slower there, and quieter. She will like that. I swear to you, Your Grace, she will be safe and happy.”

There's a few red flags here and a few okay things here. I think it's very odd that Daella's excitement at being a stepmother is considered an outburst that Alysanne mislikes and that Grand Maester Elysar says "gods be good." Weird to me idk!! Also, sorry, don't care about the time period, it's weird that he says he's loved her for years (and Corlys is weird for the Rhaenys/Marilda stuff, make no mistake!!!) BUT he doesn't force a bedding on her and he mentions taking her to the Vale because it's quieter, which is honestly a nice thing for Daella, who hates large crowds and court in general. This feels, initially, not dissimilar to like, the Sansa-Willas thing; is it shady? Yes, objectively. But that doesn't mean it has to be an unpleasant marriage, and something strong can grow there. However...

And so she was, for a time. The eldest of Lord Rodrik’s four children from his first wife was a daughter, Elys, three years older than her new stepmother. The two of them clashed from the first. Daella doted on the three younger children, however, and they seemed to adore her in turn. Lord Rodrik, true to his word, was a kind and caring husband who never failed to pamper and protect the bride he called “my precious princess.” Such letters as Daella sent her mother (letters largely written for her by Lord Rodrik’s younger daughter, Amanda) spoke glowingly of how happy she was, how beautiful the Vale, how much she loved her lord’s sweet sons, how everyone in the Eyrie was so kind to her... In the Vale, however, her sister Daella was not doing near as well. After a year and a half of marriage, a different sort of message arrived at the Red Keep by raven. It was very short, and written in Daella’s own uncertain hand. “I am with child,” it said. “Mother, please come. I am frightened.”

Though the princess professed delight that her mother had come, and apologized for sending her such a “silly” letter, her fear was palpable. She burst into tears for the slightest reason, and sometimes for no reason at all, Lord Rodrik said. His daughter Elys was dismissive, telling Her Grace, “You would think she was the first woman ever to have a baby,” but Alysanne was concerned... She was half right. Aemma Arryn, the daughter of Lord Rodrik and Princess Daella, came into the world a fortnight early, after a long and troubled labor. “It hurts,” the princess screamed through half the night. “It hurts so much.” But it is said she smiled when her daughter was laid against her breast. Everything was far from fine, however. Childbed fever set in soon after birth. Though Princess Daella desperately wished to nurse her child, she had no milk, and a wet nurse was sent for. As her fever rose, the maester decreed that she might not even hold her babe, which set the princess to weeping. She wept until she fell asleep, but in her sleep she kicked wildly and tossed and turned, her fever rising ever higher. By morning she was gone. She was eighteen years of age. Lord Rodrik wept as well, and begged the queen’s permission to bury his precious princess in the Vale, but Alysanne refused. “She was the blood of the dragon. She will be burned, and her ashes interred on Dragonstone beside her sister Daenerys.”

So to break this down Daella

Clashes with Rodrik's oldest immensely with Elys being quite cruel and in my opinion incredibly out of pocket when Alysanne gets there for what seems to be no real reason

Her letters are all written by Rodrik or Amanda and they are all glowing

FInally sends her own letter in her own hand and all it says is "i'm scared"

Immediately backtracks and says the letter was "silly"

Has started crying at odd times, something she didn't do before

This feels bad. This feels suspicious. This feels like Daella is regressing mentally and her correspondence is being controlled by her husband. Like Elys and likely Amanda are not very understanding of her needs, or her fears. She doesn't profess any sort of love for Rodrik to her mother's face, and Amanda despite being "close" to her isn't here to comfort Daella as she's having a troubled pregnancy. Then she dies.

The marriage barely lasts long enough to establish any sort of romanticism and what's there is bleak and confusing. It doesn't even feel like a Stockholm-y Dany/Drogo situation, where Daella simply forces herself to love a husband that is cruel to her; Daella does not seem particularly close to anyone in the Vale and Alysanne seems so suspicious of the whole thing that she not only inters Daella on Dragonstone, she also seems to have raised Aemma herself. She doesn't seem to give a single shit about Rodrik's grief here. Maybe that's just Alysanne being Alysanne but the fact that Gyldayn straight up says she's blaming Jaehaerys and Rodrik due to "pride" and Gyldayn is a nasty odious misogynist, I think it's very likely that Alysanne picked up on some really bad vibes from the Arryn family and the situation Daella was in.

To me, this is a Jon/Lysa redux. This is "what happens if Lysa was sickly and Jon married her." There doesn't seem to be any real care put into taking care of her, there seems to have been an active conspiracy to isolate her from her mother, and Elys is cruel to her for no reason. There's no romantic elements here for me, not even of the "toxic twin flame" or grooming variety; Daella is forced to marry, Daella is isolated from her family and impregnated, and Daella dies. I think at best Rodrik was hoping to get his blood on the throne in a generation or two and what he wept for was not the loss of a wife he loved but the loss of station when he saw just how pissed off Alysanne was about the whole ordeal. There's just nothing in the text to convince me that Rodrik was genuine or that Daella had fallen in love with him.

[ticklish-n-stuff]

Tickletober day #23: Sweet

Soo yeah I'm still mentally ill for Kazuha

That's all I have to say for myself

Enjoy<3

______________________________________________________________

Albedo x Kazuha (romantic)

Lee: Albedo

Ler: Kazuha

Warnings: Tickles!

______________________________________________________________

Kazuha could bet all the mora in the world over his loving and genius partner overworking himself and he’d win every single time without fail. Today definitely not being the exception. 

The samurai felt a pout form in his lips when he saw Albedo working on something that Kazuha most definitely wouldn’t understand. 

“Ahem” he cleared his throat once, not surprised when he didn’t receive a reply. 

“‘Bedo, time for a break” he called out more sweetly this time, using the nickname he had picked out for his lover. Still no reply though… Kazuha would consider himself to have a lot of patience, but the overworked blonde seemed to know how to run it thin without even trying. Even so, hope wasn’t totally lost. The samurai still had the ultimate triumph card up his sleeve, one that had a 99.9% success rate. With a sigh, Kazuha spoke, mainly to himself “I tried being nice, but I suppose you leave me no choice, dear”.

Albedo didn’t know what hit him. One moment he was going over his notes, and the next he was laying on his back, resting comfortably on a pair of thighs while scarlet eyes looked down at him with a look that screamed sweetness and ‘you’re so screwed’.

The alchemist cleared his throat, feigning nonchalance as if this were the most normal thing ever. Though it was just that, an act. As much as he tried to ignore it, he couldn’t help but focus on the sense of dread yet excitement that gaze brought upon him, and his partner probably knew that already, always so perceptive.

Albedo already knew all of Kazuha’s tactics to get him to stop overworking himself, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t fond of this particular method. 

“I was almost done” the blonde tried to defend himself, even if he already knew that it was pointless. 

“Right…” Kazuha’s said unamused, already gone through this song and dance plenty of times with Albedo. Not wanting to spend anymore time in pointless banter, he got to work. One of his hands found their way under Albedo’s shirt. The samurai couldn’t help but chuckle when he felt the skin twitch under his fingertips. He slowly started to trail along the soft skin. Tracing up and down the sides of his belly, circling his navel in a way that made the blonde want to squirm away yet succumb to the feeling. 

“I-Ihi’m being s-serious…!” Albedo’s words came out all strained, just because he partially enjoyed this didn’t mean he’d give in so easily. Though it was a losing battle when faced against Kazuha, who knew all the spots and techniques to rile him up. 

“I’m sure you are” the anemo user spoke in that tone that dripped in sweetness, moving his fingers further up to gently poke and prod at his boyfriend’s ribs. Making sure to hit the small spaces between them, knowing it was especially ticklish for the alchemist. 

“I- Ack!” Albedo slapped a hand over his mouth the moment that embarrassing sound fell out of his lips. His torso felt like there were little sparks of electricity running over it. 

“Tsk tsk. First you won’t listen to me, and now you’re covering up those lovely sounds? So naughty today, I must say…” Kazuha shook his head with mock disappointment, grabbing both of Albedo’s wrists and holding them above his head. 

The alchemist couldn’t help but squirm with this new sense of vulnerability, struggling to hold back a smile. 

“Wahait! I-I’ll take a break, I promise!” he found himself begging, not really sure why. Normally with such a calm and level-head, yet Kazuha always managed to throw away any common sense the moment those dangerous, red eyes stared at him. 

“Oh, I know you will. I’ll make sure of that. Now how about you hum me a tune?~” Kazuha shot him a sweet yet teasing smile as he used his free hand to scratch at the sensitive hollow under his arm. 

“aaAH! WAHAHAIT! DON’T- STOHOHOP!” Albedo squealed as bright cackles forced their way out of his throat. His thoughts getting all jumbled up from the overwhelming yet pleasing ticklish sensation running through his body, not realizing the error of his words until it was too late. 

“Don’t stop? Alright, not like I planned on stopping anyways. You’re enjoying yourself, right dearie? That beautiful smile says it all~” 

It was safe to assume that Albedo didn’t go back to work after that.

______________________________________________________________

[jackwolfes]

Wesper (ish) // Six of Crows // 1997 words // E rated @kinktober2023 Day 19: Voyeurism Bonus warnings: non-consensual voyeurism, Wylan x stranger

[all kinktober fills]

I’m going to kill Kaz. 

Jesper has lost count of how many times he’s repeated that thought to himself, soothing himself with the certainty that he’ll be causing Kaz Brekker bodily harm within a few hours at most. It’s still little solace right now, when Jesper is stuck in a wardrobe hiding from the son of the man whose house they’re robbing. 

Sure, he probably shouldn’t have been poking around in this random dressing room when he was meant to be waiting for Kaz’s signal. And yeah, he supposes that he should be concerned about how Kaz might fare while Jesper is stuck here. But Kaz always has a stupid fucking back up plan, and Jesper is the one now listening to some useless pretty boy chatter with some staff member or another. From the dull conversation they’re having about Kerch history, Jesper has to assume he’s some kind of tutor, but he’s finding it remarkably hard to focus on what they’re saying on account of the fact he’s now stuck in a wardrobe. 

It’s uncanny how easy it is for even the most dire of situations to get worse. 

Jesper doesn’t immediately realise that anything has actually changed. He’s leaning against the back of the wardrobe and trying not to slam his head against it in frustration when he realises that the room past the wardrobe door he’s hiding behind is quiet. Not silent, though. 

“Mmh—”

He cracks an eye open. There isn’t a lot of space in the wardrobe, but it’s tall enough that he can stand at a slight slouch. It isn’t very deep, though, which means he doesn’t need to lean very far forward at all to get a sense for what’s happening outside. There are slats in the door, thin enough to hide him but just wide enough to allow him to see out. He squints. 

Then he realises, with very obvious clarity, what is happening outside. 

The flush on Jesper’s cheek understands what he’s seeing before his brain catches up, but when it does — Saints, when it does. Jesper realises with a horrifying mix of interest, desire and dread that the rich and pretty heir to this grand old house is being kissed by his tutor in the most filthy way imaginable. They’re only a few steps away from the wardrobe door Jesper is hiding behind. Jesper’s heart has started to race, slamming against the hollow of his throat. He leans away from the door as much as he can, but it isn’t much. 

The rich boy's breath hitches, too loud with proximity. Jesper hears fumbling, then — his heart stops — the distinct slam of a body against the door he's just barely hidden by. He holds his breath. This time when the man whines it's even louder. 

With something a little like horror and a lot like arousal, Jesper realises that that pretty boy is now pressed with his face against the mahogany door Jesper is trapped behind. He can see him. His flushed face is just about visible through the thin slats of this stupid closet. They'd be face to face if there wasn't this bare inch of wood between them. Close enough to kiss. 

All this means that there’s a very real chance that the rich boy will be able to see Jesper. It’s not impossible, although the slats tip downwards enough that Jesper thinks he’s mostly hidden. Besides: the young man is awfully distracted. 

In his too-tight trousers, Jesper's cock twitches at the thought. He's all but leaking into his drawers. Nearly sightlessly he hears sounds that must be belt buckles and stripped off clothes, watching the shadows jerk as the boy’s limbs are tugged free from their coverings. 

“Please,” the young man whines.

“Patience, pretty boy,” his companion replies. Once more, the boy whines. 

“Please—” 

But then his breath catches, killing the words in his throat. He moans, drawn out and shivering, and the man behind him chuckles. “That’s it,” he whispers. “Good boy.” 

Jesper can’t see what they’re doing exactly, but he imagines it well. Fingers between spread legs, teasing and toying, stretching, touching. This boy looks soft and princely, and Jesper can only imagine what touching him is like. Silk, a string of pearls. Decadent skin and pillow-plush lips. He gasps a few more times, but doesn’t say much more. 

Through the thin slats Jesper watches his face. His pale brows are drawn low, scrunched tight as he’s worked up from behind. As he’s prepared, or maybe worked over his peak (although the tutor makes no move to touch his cock). Even in the dim light Jesper can see a shine of sweat on his brow. His own eyes trace over the boy’s parted lips, catching sight of his pink tongue and the moans that are threatening to fall. He doesn’t seem to care about being caught by anyone — not even Jesper. 

And Jesper knows he should feel awful about this. He should feel downright dirty, and if he’s honest he does. But he feels himself burning, too, in a good way. There is molten metal in his core, getting him hot and getting him hard, as he watches this pretty boy taking pleasure without even knowing he’s being watched. The only thing saving Jesper from a moral crisis is the knowledge that he isn’t really being given a choice, either. 

He squeezes his eyes shut in the hope that’ll make his hard-on go away, stubbornly refusing to touch himself even though the need is becoming ever more pressing. From the sound of things — hitching breaths, quiet moans, the scrape of fingernails against the wardrobe door — the tutor’s fingers are finding all the right spots. 

"Shit— shit— come on—" 

The heir cries out, high and pretty like bells on a festival day, and Jesper opens his eyes in time to see the shadow cast across the door disappear. He blinks rapidly, wondering what’s happening, but he doesn’t dare move. What he hears is the sound of fumbling footsteps, enough to be sure that they’re moving away from the closet — finally. 

But they don’t leave the room. 

There’s a second slam and another loud cry. Jesper presses his palm to his mouth, certain he’s going to make a mortifying noise of his own otherwise. It isn’t the easiest to see through the slats of the door but Jesper sees enough. 

The tutor has bent the rich boy right over the vanity. 

In his own head, Jesper swears. From where he’s hiding he has a perfect view. They stand side on to the wardrobe and so side on to Jesper, which means he can see the boy’s shirt rucked up over his back, the swell of his bare ass and the dip of his lower spine. But that isn’t all, because fuck, that’d be too easy. The boy’s tutor has shoved him down on the vanity table, which means the boy is propped up right in front of a mirror tilted just so, and giving Jesper a straight line of sight to the boy’s red face. Only for a moment before he buries his face in the table, already trembling. His tutor has lined his cock up and is already pressing in, which makes the boy start to shake. There’s no more begging, but he spreads his legs apart before the tutor asks him to in a wordless plea. 

It's dirty and lecherous and Jesper stares anyway, not breathing. The boy’s pale arms stretch over the length of the vanity, hands curled into fists as his tutor starts to take him. Jesper can barely see the tutor’s face from where it’s buried in the pretty heir's throat, but he hears the slap of skin on skin as he starts to fuck him and also doesn’t really care what the tutor does. He cares about the rich boy. He watches with perfect clarity; the way he clenches his fists, his sweat-damp hair, the way his face tilts up towards the mirror with every softly sung moan. 

“Please,” the boy moans again. “T-touch my— touch my cock, please—!”

“Saints,” the tutor swears, words low through gritted teeth. He reaches a hand up to shove through the boy’s curly red hair, tightening a fist and nudging him back down. The boy’s body jolts, and he moans one more time. 

Jesper can’t understand how he’s being so greedy. The thought of having this heir ready and willing in an empty (or, mostly empty) room and not taking the time to draw out his pleasure is unthinkable. If Jesper were in that stupid tutor’s place he’d go hours if he had to without so much as brushing a hand against his own cock just to give this boy the adoration he is owed. 

From behind the shut wardrobe doors Jesper stares, cataloguing every new inch the boy’s blush tracks across. It spreads over his sides, across his back, it even splashes over his cheeks. It's heady and intoxicating, dizzying, glorious. 

Then the heir lifts his head just high enough to look in the mirror and looks, without any room for doubt, at the wardrobe door. Jesper’s stomach drops out from under him, suddenly perfectly certain that the heir is looking at him. That he knows. And maybe he does, maybe he heard or saw or fucking tasted Jesper’s frantic disbelief the last time he moaned. Jesper stares, struck dumb, as the boy shoves a hand below his hips and starts to jerk his cock, as if he’s given up on waiting at the whims of other people. He doesn’t let his head drop. He doesn’t stop looking at the mirror. Now it seems as likely that he’s staring at his own reflection as it’s likely that he’s staring at the wardrobe now, and Jesper can’t tell which is hotter to imagine. All the same he stares, mouth dry, as the heir makes himself come. 

His body goes tense where it’s folded over the table, starting to tremble as his orgasm seizes him and his tutor chases his release. The heir doesn’t moan or cry out, but having heard it before Jesper can so perfectly imagine the light and faint way his breath might hitch, lost under the grunting of the man above him. He takes each frantic thrust, seeming not to mind being pushed past his limit, although his knees start to buckle before too long. 

His tutor doesn't take much more than that, either, although Jesper spends the whole time watching the pretty heir with his pretty flush as he takes it, already long since pushed over his edge. It's all very quick after that, and when they've both caught their breath (while Jesper still struggles) the tutor chooses not to kiss his half-dazed fuck-buddy before choosing to take his leave. 

Left alone, the heir stands on still trembling legs. He neatens himself up slowly, tucking his spent cock back into his trousers and smoothing down his fluffed up hair. Then — sparing one last lingering glance at the wardrobe — he heads towards the door. 

Holding his breath is instinct until the heir is out of sight, at which point Jesper exhales as quietly as he can manage. Saints, Jesper thinks weakly. He’s certain that he’s going to need a very long and very cold shower to calm himself down. He knows he isn’t out of the clear just yet, and Saints know he’ll have to hash out an uncomfortable conversation with Kaz about why he was late on his side of the job, but — 

“I can go twice, if you ever plan on getting out of that wardrobe.”

Jesper goes perfectly still, certain he’s misheard until that pretty Geldstraat boy daintily clears his hoarse throat. I’m going to kill Kaz, he thinks, unbidden, before it’s chased with an altogether more pressing thought that reminds him that he’s still hard in his trousers and desperately, ruinously turned on. 

Staying a little bit longer when he’s already late can’t hurt anyone — right?

[crisalidaseason]

Seventh entry: Assessing danger is not easy.

Protecting means watching out for danger, but danger is not always someone running at you with a knife. Danger can be quiet. You need to know when and where safety is, but even then do not let your guard down

The wood block was harder than he was used to, but nothing absurdly difficult to carve. His pocket knife was sharp enough to precisely perfect the rough shape of the dragon.

“Who are you making this time?”

Violet was leaning on her right arm, her breakfast long forgotten on the table and her pale eyes focused on the irregular wood in his hands. Liam scanned the mess hall once again before looking at her and answering.

“I’m not sure yet, I just know it’s gonna be a dragon”

She smiled softly at his answer.

“Is it a childhood hobby? You’re really skilled”

Liam nodded, eyes back on the figurine once he deemed the place free of possible stabby bastards - not that people would actually try to murder her during breakfast, but better safe than sorry.

“Thanks. And yes, I think I was around 10 or 11. My dad taught me”

He recalled his rough beginning, his fingers were permanently wrapped then since his handling of the knife was pretty bad, but he hadn’t hurt himself in years. Carving was almost second nature at that point, he could do it as quickly as writing. It was a calming activity and helped him cope with stress.

“What did you do for fun?” he asked “aside from menacingly climbing trees and humiliating people in word games?”

She kicked his shin under the table, not strong enough to hurt but firmly enough.

“Languages” she replied “I liked making cyphers”

Liam scoffed. Of fucking course!

“Don’t mock me, Liam!”

“I’m not mocking you, it’s just so fucking you to enjoy making cyphers” he looked at her fully “besides, I also made up a code with Sloane once”

“What was your base?”

“A mix of made up signs, which was really stupid and obvious considering we used it to steal food from the kitchens, sneak away to the beach or test my mother’s patience” he was smiling visibly at that point “yours?”

“I always switched it up, sometimes lucerish, sometimes tyrrish or a mix of them”

Liam gave her look of disbelief.

“You know tyrrish?”

“Trained to be a scribe, remember?” she points to herself “It’s required to know at least two old languages before you even attempt at entering the scribes”

He was about to ask why she had learned tyrrish, but their table shook slightly at Imogen’s weight, soon being followed by Quin and Sawyer. The rest of their squad filled the table a few minutes later, cutting off the chances of Liam continuing their talk. Not that he had something to hide, but he liked the privacy of their conversations.

“Sorrengail” Imogen warned once, looking at Violet’s full abandoned plate.

Their breakfast went as usual and soon they were already waiting for battle brief to start. The class was never particularly important for Liam - considering the heavily filtered information - but he still paid attention enough. Violet, on the other hand, was growing impatient every day the attack on Sumerton was not mentioned or even hinted at. He felt the cold nervous sensation settle on his stomach, it would be just a matter of time until Violet started questioning things too hard and clocked more than she should, not a good thing when Aetos lingered beside her like a lost dog.

Fuck, he sounded like Xaden.

“Of course” Violet mumbled beside him.

Liam half listened as professor Devera began another random recalling of an older attack, most of his focus was on the girl beside him. Her notebook was open but Violet did not dip her quill into the inkpot immediately. Her pale eyes locked on his knowingly - yet another class without a mention of Summerton. He simply nodded discreetly and soon his gaze drifted to his brother a few rows above. Xaden was not looking at them - at her, actually - but if Liam was to watch under the table, he would recognize the slithering shadows.

“First years, questions” Devera said after exposing the content.

Violet remained eerily quiet, as she had been for the last two weeks. She wasn’t highly participative, but Devera seemed to expect, and encouraged, her to speak at least once. Violet’s enhanced quietness was raising the professor’s attention but it was the elder scribe’s eyes glued on Sorrengail that fired Liam’s head alarms.

“Take notes” Liam whispered, leaning slightly in her direction.

Violet looked at him from the corner of her eyes, brows frowning in confusion.

“Markham” he simply said.

She nodded and dipped her quill into the inkpot immediately, scribbling information on the blank notebook. Liam had never felt happier that she understood his request quickly. He wanted her to question things, but he could not let anyone from leadership - specially an old man that seemed to know Sorrengail a little too well - catch on to her behavior.

“Thanks” she whispered to him.

Liam took his wood carving out of his pocket, trying to appear casual and unserious. His pocket knife barely scraped much of the wood while Violet’s quill made quick work of the class topic. He looked at Markham briefly, pleased to see the old man finally breaking his one sided staring contest. Liam sighed. Seemed like battle brief was not such a safe class for Violet after all.

“Great, now I have an old man on my list of Violet Sorrengail’s potential killers”

“And you said you liked it difficult” Deigh commented on his mental distress.

During his hectic day as a bodyguard, flight lessons were usually a blessed moment of rest. He did not have to worry about Violet’s safety since Tairn was a hell of a protector and nobody would be stupid enough to harm her while the war dragon was right there.

“The little woman fell again” Deigh warned.

Well, saying Violet was safe during flight lessons was merely an expression. She did fall from Tairn’s back at least fifteen times during the duration of the class.

“That makes it sixteen” Liam grimaced.

He could see clearly as Violet was caught by her monstrosity of a dragon. The first time he had witnessed her fall Liam almost puked his heart out thinking he was kissing his ass - and Xaden’s - a goodbye on the first day as a bodyguard. Relief was an understatement when he saw Tairn catch her, Liam even asked Deigh to send a ‘thank you’ to the black dragon for that. As the weeks went by he just learned to accept that Violet would fall but Tairn had no intentions of letting her die.

“Seventeen. She lost her hold” Deigh replied.

The lesson ended right on time. As soon as the dragons landed, Liam dismounted and waited for Violet to approach - he would not get anywhere near Tairn. The black dragon’s features were always in a menacing snarl, Liam had memorized it enough and wondered if he could replicate it in wood.

“Ugh” Violet groaned, approaching the rest of their squad alongside him.

“Everything in place?” Rhiannion asked in a low voice, assessing her friend.

Violet nodded and Liam let the breath he was holding go. Flight lessons meant some nasty subluxations and even dislocations for Violet. Their squad was always discreet in helping whenever it happened, there was something disturbing about how people watched Sorrengail like a vulture spotting a wounded animal whenever she showed signs of discomfort.

“Only seventeen today” Violet commented “about 47% less than last week. That got to be a fucking improvement”

Liam sensed the frustration despite the remarkable result, though the visible exhaustion in her face meant the record took all of her strength to achieve. Liam wondered if the problem was not necessarily her balance or grip - Imogen did say Violet was improving a lot - maybe her size and Tairn’s were an incompatible match? He was not sure if bringing the topic up was advisable considering Violet was not thrilled at people commenting on her height.

“It is” Rhiannion assured her “one day at a time, Vi. Let’s all get some rest before practice tonight”

Violet was still upset, he could see it on the line between her brows and the curving of her lips, but remained quiet. Liam bumped her softly as their squad walked out of the flight field, sending her a small encouraging smile. She sighed deeply, but nodded in response to his attempt at comfort.

“I’ll be waiting outside” Liam said while Rhiannion and Violet headed for the women’s bathing chambers to freshen up.

He greeted a few known faces while waiting. The entire feminine part of the quadrant was already used to seeing Liam hang outside the area, aware of his bodyguard duty. He felt embarrassed at first - he did not want to come off as a creep - but soon his presence became usual and he even used this opportunity to flirt with stunning women since he had limited time to pursue people into his bed.

“Mairi” Soleil spotted him as she left the chamber.

She was adjusting her uniform, the three stars glaring at him. He was not so close to her, they had not interacted much even before the rebellion fell, but there was pride brewing on his chest at the sight of the three stars. Seeing all the third year marked ones was almost like a hazy impossible dream finally coming true.

“Telery” he smiled “it’s been a while, huh?”

She nodded, brown eyes scanning his form much like Xaden and Garrick do whenever they spot him. Liam had heard of the older marked kids being constant targets of assassinations during their first year.

“Babysitting driving you mad already?” she joked, leaning next to him on the wall.

“Not really” he shrugged “it’s actually entertaining”

She frowned at his reply and he prepared himself for another round of explaining marked ones that Violet was actually a decent human being and not a mini Lilith Sorrengail. He would not blame them for the first impression, but he sure would defend a friend.

“Whatever” was all Soleil said “just be careful, her back is not the only one prone to stabbing”

He nodded, understanding her concern despite not being necessary. Liam was strong enough to watch over his back and also Violet’s.

“See you around, Mairi”

Violet and Rhiannion came out of the bathing chamber minutes later, thankfully with no murder attempts on their friend.

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[sintreaties]

Let's be real u love the anon who asked u lots of question right?

Allow me to thank you for this question, because it gave me the chance to speak about something that’s been intriguing me for a while (albeit it’s more of a personal reflection, rather than a conversation with you specifically).

I’ve been answering anon asks for years and because this was my first experience being active in fandom spaces, I’ve come to consider it as a sort of social experiment.

To answer your question: no, I do not enjoy the last few asks. I don’t appreciate when people don’t take the hint and keep sending them.

In part, of course, it’s because I’ve grown tired. Tired of Kakegurui, but also of some of its fans. The asks I used to receive were also much more engaging and some were actually quite funny! Some anons were nice enough to come here just to share something they enjoyed, something unrelated to KKG, because they thought that I’d enjoy it too. I appreciate those anons a lot and I hope they’re having a nice day, just like the anons who reached out to talk about my fics and discuss what they liked or disliked about them.

I can’t remember if I mentioned it here, but for me, the anons of this blog are the equivalent of strangers stopping me in the streets while I’m minding my business. Some people ask for directions (meaning, some come here asking for writing advice and such) and if I can help them, it is my pleasure to do so. Some people come up to me to strike a conversation, and although I don’t always have the patience or the interest to indulge them, I do my best to reply.

And then there’s… the others.

Those are the ones that puzzle me. I don’t take what they say personally, nor do I give it much weight, because in the end, they’re still just strangers on the internet, but I’m still genuinely curious about why they do the things they do. It’s not like I’ve lost sleep over it but even as a writer, I’m very, very interested in understanding this kind of humanity. Everything has a reason, if you care to search for it.

So those anons, right. Some of them don’t even follow me: Why are they here?

Of course, one of the reasons is that this is an open space. You can come in, do your thing, get out. I’ll never know who you are so you don’t really feel like there’s going to be any substantial consequence to what you say.

There’s this quote by Robert A. Caro that goes, “When you have enough power to do what you always wanted to do, then you’re really gonna see what you always wanted to do.”

So you have the power to be rude, and stupid and nonsensical, right?

But why would you do it?

Like, if someone was to tell me “Hey, I don’t appreciate your avances”, well, I wouldn’t send them this kind of stuff:

I’d feel like a loser, you see? I’d show no manners to the person who’s repeatedly said that they don’t appreciate this kind of messages (most importantly when those who send them are really trying to get my cell number!!!) and I’d also show such an incredible loneliness and hopelessness that I couldn’t help but be ashamed of myself.

Plus you’re doing this where everyone can see you! You’re on anon yes, but you know that you’re the one who wrote that stupid, rude or nonsensical ask. How can you not be embarassed about it? I suppose you’re either dumb enough to lack self-awareness or you’re so insecure that you’re much beyond that to torture yourself with silly concepts like dignity and self-respect.

I don’t mean it as an insult, really, I’m just trying to draw my own conclusions here. My power fantasy is to be a good, kind, interesting person in a community of equally good and nice and interesting people and yours is… this? Why?

Reading some of these asks feels like getting a glimpse of someone’s intrusive thoughts. You can tell that they didn’t stop to think before sending them. My mutuals have to thank me, because despite what I’ve been told recently by a friend, I still spare them the worst ones (which, curiously, have only really started to appear recently). This kind of stuff gives me such bad second-hand embarassment that if I try to put myself in the anon’s shoes I deal myself psychic damage.

Most of those people don’t even come to me because I’m Sintreaties and they have a problem specifically with Sintreaties. The problematic anons either disregard or forget the fact that they’re real, living people talking to another real, living person — who, incidentally, has nothing to do with them.

And it’s incredible, because again, I wouldn’t be able to act like some of you! Sometimes it helps to think that no matter how many times I’ve hit rock bottom, I’ve never sent anon hate nor have I ever harrassed someone online just because I could. But then, even in videogames I never pick the “bad route”. What’s the fun in that? If I have to be mean and pick a fight with someone, hell, let it be a fight that can win me something more than whatever you get from arguing with Twitter users.

In the end, the question for me isn’t “why are you doing this to me”.

For me, the question becomes: why are you doing this to yourselves?

Bro, go for a walk! Talk to your friends, and if you’ve got none, go ahead and make some! Go for a coffee all by yourself and joke with the guy at the counter! Jesus Christ man, you can do better than waste your time sending that kind of asks to a random person on the internet! You show so little self-love that I can’t help but feel compassion. Where’s your dignity? Where’s your self-respect, the innate, human drive that pushes us to be better, no matter what? If you’re so lonely and insecure, do something about it! The world is full of people who wish to be your friend and to know you for who you are. Take care of yourself, for god’s sake!

“Lighten up, it’s not that deep” — for some of you, yeah. We’re talking about the same people who can barely read and comprehend a manga, I don’t expect them to understand my point.

(And I don’t mean it as a “look at me, I am so superior to you, because I actually use my head to think things critically and I’m still in touch with my emotions even in online settings.”)

For you it’s just one or two weird asks. Since 2019, I’ve received hundreds of them.

Again, I’m still relatively new to fandom. I’ve “only” been around for a few years and I’ve mostly only interacted with KKG fans. I’ve also always tried to curate my experience, which is already lacking on its own compared to someone who’s been around for decades. On that note, I wonder if some older, more experienced users would like to share their opinions on the matter — on anon too, or course.

I still want to keep my askbox open, because some anons really have something new and interesting to bring to the table. Remember though: it’s not 2020 anymore. From now on, I really do suggest thinking well about an ask before sending it.

And on a final note, I’m told that one of my asks made it to the KKG struggles account on Twitter so I’d personally like to thank and shake hands with all the anons that made it possible🤝🍾🎉

[starsworns-a]

#STARSWORN —But the hellebores did not have to mean anything in particular, as I stood there admiring their tenacity: I simply wanted them to continue being themselves, and for myself to learn a little, just a little, of their endurance.

An indie and highly selective roleplay blog for Felix Iskander Escellun from Fictif's Last Legacy. Portrayal is headcanon-based. Currently a sideblog so I cannot follow back unless we are mutuals on my hub! Please note that triggering themes will be present on this blog; topics such as death & trauma are among the most prevalent. Written by Hawk !

affiliates: @sanctissimx

A brilliant, cryptic but lazy mage with an affinity for necromancy...

RULES:

25+ // mst .

01. feel free to send me IMs if you want to plot or talk about the muses . due to my demanding schedule i am extremely low activity . i require patience and understanding from my mutuals , although most of my mutuals are friends anyways .

i may post oocly on the dash but i am often working sun-thurs. i am almost always available for chatting even if i am not rping . I have discord available upon request if you want to reach me on the regular . i curate my space often but please do not be deterred from reaching out & starting a conversation . i am actually quite shy but once we get talking i am your jester fr .

NOTHING   on here is owned by me unless stated otherwise . the psds i am currently using for icons/graphics are self -made or by these talented people :  

  FOSSAED  ,  CAVALIERFOU  , ASHHEARTSHELPS , etc  .

i  always  check  mun  info when  reading  rules  /  looking  at blogs  ! 

PERSONALS  PLEASE  DO  NOT  REBLOG  MY  POSTS .

02. this blog is considered MUTALS ONLY . If we are mutuals , always free to reply to my open starters or ask memes ( preferably on a new post ) . If you think i have lost a post , feel free to shoot me an IM and ask ! i always tag my partner's url too .

03. THIS  BLOG  MAY  HOLD  TRIGGERING TOPICS  AND  SPOILERS  .

such as but not exclusive to : Violence / Gore / Trauma / Language , etc   . due to the nature of some of the content my character is from . i , as a mun , of course  DO NOT ADVOCATE for the behavior of my character or others or my fandom on top of that . i try to keep to my own corner really . this applies to general rpc happenings , too .

threads of an explicit or dark nature should be pretty common so beware , however i have my limits . i have  NO   time for r*cism ,  p*dophila , inc*st , r*pe , or lgbt fetishizing / homophobia . if you ask or present me with it , i  WILL   block you . 

I will always tag  NSFW   for images / gifs / threads . anything else that is potentially triggering will have a  TW   after it . i don't do fancy tags for triggering content so you will be safe here , just ask me to tag something if it's reasonable .

i also refuse to participate in mature threads with minors or follow them .  in fact, even if this blog content is 18+, I will only interact with rpers who are 21+.

04 . I don't require my partner to match the length of my replies . i am always open to general script rp to start our interactions , too ! i don't mind if you do or don't format posts , i don' t judge !

concerning RP , multis please specify which muse you would like to interact with when sending in memes or liking starter calls . unfortunately i am not a mind reader and i'm inclined to panic and inevitably not answer someone's rp if i don't know who they want to interact with . 

 i'm always down for forming / establishing many kinds of relationships if we have agreed to it beforehand . I don't mind one sided shipping either .  regarding MCs , i only ask that we discuss what route / dynamic we both want before assuming to auto-ship with me .

I also reserve the right to my interpretation of a character. I don't operate on fanon 80% of the time, so please understand if I have a different perspective of Felix than maybe you do.

[radnewworld]

In the Shadow of the Tower - 01

Aella and Rolan lay on a blanket in the shadow of the tower. It wasn’t a safe place to be, so far from the village’s walls, but it was one of the few places they could be alone and the setting sun shattered into a million different shades as it passed through the remaining glass of the tower. Despite the beauty of their surroundings, neither felt at ease. Both knew the argument was coming and each was simply waiting for the other to start.

Aella opened her hard-edged mouth, but just as quickly shut it when Rolan stopped rhythmically patting her shell for just a moment. She sighed and rolled from his comforting arms to kneel at the blanket’s edge before facing him. The pain in his eyes showed as readily as she could feel it with her empathic senses. It had to be said though, and she managed to choke the words out, “we can just leave.”

The lad closed his eyes for a breath before using two of his four arms to prop himself up. A colder anger slowly began to replace the pain she’d seen a heartbeat ago. “Sun and Moon, Aella-” she hated when he cursed like that, “- why isn’t this enough? The village is safe. We can marry, have children… Be happy.” He reached out to take her hard, clawed hand, but she pulled it back.

“The future, darling!” She tried to keep her tone stronger than she felt. “We can accomplish more! We can save people, like the two adventurers did when they came here!” Aella gestured towards the road that had been so riddled with bandits until the two strangers had captured their leader. For a bounty, yes, but their intent was still noble. “Just two people, Rolan! And they fixed our problem in less than a week!”

“And you think we can just be like them with no experience?” Rolan shouted in return. “Or would we end up like the six men that father sent out before they arrived?” The whole village had mourned and set out cairns for the lost, but no bodies were beneath the stones. A horrible fate none wished to share.

Aella stood, a dark green flush rising along her neck from shell to chin. “No experience? What good is your squireship then? With all your training under Sir Ueda, can you not stand up to some bandits?”

Rolan recoiled as though struck. “Learning steel is one thing. To face down a dozen armed bandits is another matter all-together! The adventurers had artifacts, Aella! We don’t have that sort of power… Those two are lucky, or cursed, to have the power they have. I’ve seen the graves along the roadsides though; for most that try for that life there is only pain and death.”

“I have seen the future we might share, Rolan,” Aella replied as tears welled in her eyes and all the anger bled from her. “If we stay here, there is no happy ending. No marriage, no children; your family will see to it. Out in the world though? We might have a chance at being together.”

The young man sighed and was at the turtle’s side in a couple of steps, most of his anger gone. He took her into his arms. “Visions, love. You see more than most, but they are fickle. Remember the storm that you were certain would destroy the crops? Nothing more than a summer shower.” He patted her shell in the same way he’d done a hundred times before. “Mother is coming around, and that means father will too.”

She pushed her head against his chest and muttered, “she’ll never accept a daughter of a Steelshell into her house. We’re too lowborn.”

“Patience, love.”

Aella shook her head as vigorously as she could considering her face was planted against Rolan’s chest. “No.” Her voice had steel in it; a tone that her lover knew was a decision she’d made and was fully prepared to be stubborn about. The last time he’d heard it was when she’d decided that her parents’ order to stop seeing that noble softskin wasn’t to be honored. “I’m going to leave. I’m tired of living in a place that lives in a shadow.”

“Wai-wait. You c-”

The turtle pushed herself gently away from Rolan’s suddenly numb fingers to raise her head enough to look into his eyes. She hated seeing the pain in his eyes flare so brutally, but her resolve hardened against it. This was the only way. “I can. I will.” She grasped two of his hands and squeezed. “You can come with me. I don’t do this to force you… I simply can’t live like this any more. You can come with me and we can love, or I have to go and try to heal.”

Rolan was silent for a long moment. Anger, hurt, fear, and a host of other emotions whose names didn’t do them justice flashed through him as a riot of color to Aella’s perception. He tried to speak a couple of times, failed, and then simply tried to implore her with his need for her.

She felt his love, just as readily as his hands on hers; despite all the other feelings, the golden warmth was there and it made her waver for just a moment. Could she leave it all behind? She looked from him back towards the village where even small problems became crises and the petty prejudice of the few equally became nightmares. Her yellow eyes snapped back to Rolan’s green. “Come with me.”

He sighed and relief flooded her as the riotous emotions pouring off of him subsided. Like debris sluicing from a pan, everything that wasn’t gold washed off. “Just… Just promise me we’ll be able to return to visit, okay? Our parents are… Difficult, yes, but it would kill them if we just vanished.”

Aella nodded and squeezed his hands again. “As sure as the setting sun, my love. Go,” she gave him a gentle push, “sleep. In the morning, ready your steel and I’ll saddle Longstridder. If we ride hard, we’ll be in Fairstream before sunset tomorrow.”

“Hope you know what you’re doing, Aella,” Rolan replied as he turned to begin the trudge back home. “It’s dangerous out there.”

She nodded and pulled the blanket from the ground, wrapping it around herself as a shawl. “It is. I’ve seen too many happy times to be scared of it though. As long as we’re together, it’s worth the risk.”

Rolan found he agreed with the sentiment.

[shallyne]

Once Upon A Night Chapter 3 (Finale)

Previous Chapter

Last part of this little series! I know it's very, very fast paced but I don't have the patience not to. I'm sorry! Anyways, enjoy!

Words: 1,639

TW: none

Feyre makes a a decision about her current living situation and Rhys tells her a secret

The first rays of morning sun flitted through the window as Feyre laid in Rhysands arms. They didn't get any sleep that night, they only snuck out from the celebrations not too long ago, when people started to part and fall asleep. Feyre had enjoyed Starfall, it was the most special thing she had ever witnessed in her entire life. With the most special person Feyre had ever met. Feyre knew that only knew Rhys for a short time but the first time she had laid eyes on him something just felt right. He brushed a curl out of her face and Feyre smiled brightly at him, burrowing her face in the crook of his neck. If she could ignore Dawn, then Dawn was simply not there yet.

Rhys tightened his grip around her waist, pulling her closer. His citrus and sea scent enveloped her, inviting her home. "A thought for a thought, Feyre darling?" he asked.

"A thought for a thought?" she mumbled.

"You tell me what you're thinking right now and I'll tell you what I'm thinking in return."

Feyre pulled back and looked at Rhys, getting lost in his eyes. It looked like a thousand stars were shining in them. She could make out genuine curiosity as she looked at Rhys.

It was quiet for a few moments until Feyre put into words what she was afraid to say, to think even. "I don't want to go back."

Rhys kept quiet for so long that Feyre was sure he wouldn't say anything until he broke the heavy silence "Then stay."

First she didn't believe what she heard and huffed a laugh but Rhys stayed serious. "Here?" Feyre asked. Her hand was resting on his arm as he began to smile, bright and without restraint.

"Yes. Here. In Velaris, with us. With me." he said.

Feyre laughed softly. "Really? Are you sure?"

"I'm more than sure, Feyre. Please stay." he said.

She sat up, looking around the room. "I need to write a letter."

Shortly after they found themselves in a cozy study. The smell of worn leather books and ink hung in the room as Feyre turned back to Rhys and pressed the letter in his hands. "Are you sure that someone can deliver it to my family?"

"I'll do it myself if necessary." he replied smiling. Then he looked down at the piece of paper and his expression turned contemplative. "Feyre, before you send the letter, I need to tell you something."

"What is it?" she asked.

He exhaled and Feyre took his hands, smiling up at him. "It can't be that bad, right? Just say it."

"You're–" he cleared his throat. "You're my mate."

"Mate?"

Rhys picked invisible lint off his shirt and explained "A mating bond is a very rare bond between two individuals that binds their very beings together. It's like a thread between two souls. The closest concept that mortals have for mates are soulmates."

"Mates." Feyre whispered.

"I am not pressuring you into accepting the bond, Feyre. I want you to decide for yourself if you want that and if you don't, I can live with it. I will find a way to live with it. This–I just thought you should know now because it's important and I don't want you to regret it in the end." he quickly said.

Feyre let out a breath. "You were talking about accepting the bond, does that mean it's possible to reject it?"

"It is." Rhys nodded. "The bond will still be there, the thread between both parts, but you can reject the bond. It's your choice."

Feyre looked out of the window. It was still early morning, dawn had arrived not long ago. The city looked beautiful in the morning, so peaceful as many just went to bed after celebrating the whole night. "And what would happen if I'd decided? How would I accept the bond?"

"There are two ways." Rhys explained, turning the letter in his hands. "One way would be to accept the bond officially, with a priestess overseeing the ceremony. The other would be to offer your mate food, that has something to do with the beasts our ancestors were a long time ago."

"Any food?"

"Any food." he finally looked at her when she got quiet again. They just looked at each other for a long time. Then Feyre's gaze wandered to the letter in his hands.

"I don't know what to say." she replied truthfully. "I'd like you to deliver the letter anyway, if that is alright with you."

Rhys nodded eagerly. "No matter what your decision is, you're welcome here. We will find a way."

"Thank you, Rhys." she said.

He smiled again. "There is a guest room across from mine. Please rest, it's been a long night. I see that your letter will be delivered to your family. If you need something, just call. Nuala and Cerridwen will help you."

"Alright." she said and he vanished. Feyre went to the room he told her about and when she opened the dark wood doors, she found a beautiful, bright room. It was kept in white and beige with sage green accents.

A woman was already in the room and when she turned around, she smiled at Feyre and introduced herself as Nuala. She had already laid out a nightgown and Feyre asked herself how she knew because Rhys was with her the whole time. Feyre shrugged the thought off and thanked Nuala. It didn't take long for Feyre to fall asleep after she finally slipped into bed.

She was awoken by a knock on her door. "Come in." Feyre mumbled as she rubbed her eyes.

"Good morning!" Mor chirped and sat on the edge of her bed. "I heard you are staying with us, that's so exciting!"

"Yes." Feyre smiled. "It is."

Mor smiled brightly at Feyre.

"Mor?"

"Yes?"

Feyre sighed. "Where's the kitchen?"

Mor's eyebrows shot up and then she grinned, "Come on, I'll show you!"

It was afternoon when Mor had led her to the kitchen but by the time Feyre had managed to cook something presentable and got ready herself the sun already began setting. She gripped the plate in her hand as she walked up the stairs, stopping at a door that wasn't fully closed.

When she pushed it open her breath hitched a bit as she saw Rhys leaning over a paper, writing something down. Feyre straightened and walked over to him, putting the plate right in front of him, then sitting down on the chair across his.

Rhys stared at the plate, letting the pen fall out of his hand. Then his gaze wandered to Feyre.

"I'm not a good cook." she said. "It's not a masterpiece but it's definitely edible, I tried it."

His gaze was fixed on Feyre. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. It might be a bit salty but it's not overpowering so I guess it's fine." she smiled. "It was also supposed to be a bit spicy but I don't know what happened because it's not spicy at all."

"No, that's not what I meant." Rhys said. "Though it smells good, so don't worry about that. I mean – we just talked about this a few hours ago, maybe take some time-"

"I don't need to take more time." Feyre said. "I made my decision. I want this, Rhys. I want you."

His eyes were still glued on Feyre, so she stabbed a piece of meat with his fork and extended it towards him. "Eat, Rhys. I promise you, I was never more sure about in my life." she held his gaze to let him feel the truth of his words. He took the fork and asked one last time "Are you really sure?" and when she nodded a final time, he dug into his meal.

Feyre pulled the veil out of her hair, taking another look at it before she put it to the side. It looked like real Starlight was weaved into its fabric, the same with the fabric of her wedding dress.

It was a beautiful day. It's Feyre's five year anniversary in the Night Court and they decided to finally have an official ceremony that Mor had begged them for since they had mated privately.

When she looked up again, Rhys smirked at her like he could hear her thoughts.

"Not yet," she giggled. "The party is still in full swing."

Rhys pulled her closer and whispered in her ear "I'm sure we can slip away for a few moments-"

"Ew, please don't." Mor's voice sounded behind them.

Rhys sighed. "What do you want, cousin?"

She snorted at his tone and said. "You need to go to the temple in the mortal lands, both of you. I'm sure you want to see that."

Impatiently she ushered them up and they winnowed to the Moonstone palace, where they walked through a secret archway and came out at the temple of the mortal realm. The three of them walked down the steps of the temple and just then Feyre realized that Mor was carrying Nox with her. It became tradition for them to include Nox at every event since Feyre had left him here when she was a child. That's how Nox got his own chair in the first row during the ceremony and on a table at the reception.

Feyre smiled at the memory and turned around, looking at the empty dais. The once empty dais, because now Feyre looked at a statue of herself, standing right beside the statue of Rhys. A similar crown of stars resting on her head as it did on Rhys's.

She looked like a goddess of Night.

"You are-" Rhys said beside her, squeezing her hand. "-the goddess of Night. You were always meant to be at my side."

[muite]

Protective boyfriend Baji !

» fluff w/ sweet boyfie kei (1.5k)

Study dates were always quiet with your boyfriend, baji keisuke who was actually known for being a loud and kinda dumb person was always so good to you during these times, taking your study dates very seriously

being neighbors was a great thing for you both, being that the reason why you met each other in the first place, both of you living with only your mothers and you with your cat, who one day went missing and it wasn't until afternoon that baji knocked on your door asking if he was yours and if he could come visit him

safe to say he managed to snatch himself a tutor who was more than able to explain to him the things he didn't understand one, two or three times while being completely patience with him, over time the two of you confessed your feelings to each other and then eventually started dating

this evening though you were explaining something different to him

"hah? what do you mean some fuckers are billing you?"

"it's bullying baji-kun"

tickling your arm he blushed before murmuring an embarrassed "shut up" putting a hand on his neck and rubbing it "what were they even bullying you for?"

"they made fun of me for my glasses, they said I looked funny"

recently you had been having constant headaches and after going for a quick check up you found out you needed reading glasses, they said the headaches were produce of you squinting too hard, so now here you are explaining all the current events happening in your school life to your boyfriend

"fuck that, you look georgess"

"it actually is gorgeous baji-kun"

"I don't give a shit, you're going home with me tomorrow"

"we don't even go to the same school"

"I'll go to yours!"

seeing you smile made him feel all dizzy inside and he'll be damned if he didn't protect your smile at all costs

"then I'll be waiting for you"

"you better cause I don't wanna get lost"

laughing softly at him you said "you won't"

at 5pm sharp he was waiting at the entrance of your school, watching dozens of students leave to finally go to their homes

but none of them were you

so already feeling irritated he decided to go looking for you, walking down the halls of the large institution many people looked at him when he passed by them, surely thinking he was some sort of freak or something cause clearly that wasn't their school's uniform

finally arriving at your class he saw the two doors closed, he thought he would wait a few minutes, that is until he heard muffled voices and mocking laughs coming from the classroom he knew you studied in

"there's some guys in my class that have been bullying me"

baji's instincts told him to slam the door open and pondering too much, that's exactly what he did

he saw four guys surrounding you as another one had your glasses in one hand above your head, the five of them were laughing at your "give it back!" while tossing the said glasses between them

"but were having such a great time y/n-chan!"

just as the leader of the group said that a fist collided with his cheek making him lay flat on the ground

the remaining 4 guys and you scrambled to see who had knocked the living shit out of the strongest guy in your class, only to find a nerd looking guy with slicked back hair wearing some really big glasses

the right hand of the leader walked up to the nerdy guy with a threatening look in his eyes

"oi damn nerd did you do thi-"

before he can finish the question a fist sent him to the ground, laying down just beside his leader

your wide eyes watched with amazement as the nerdy guy kicked the five of your bully's asses, as he knocked down the last one your mind started questioning who the nerdy guy was

"damn fuckers, making me fight in school didn't even let me change"

hearing that familiar annoyed deep growling voice your impossibly wide eyes went even wider

"baji-kun?! what are you doing here?!"

"looks like you forgot I told you I would be walking you home today y/n"

smiling sheepishly at him you said "ah.. yeah I did..."

though it was obvious why you didn't go meet him as you promised

seeing how your embarrassed face couldn't even look at him right now, he softened the scowl on his face waking over to you before grabbing your face in the most delicate way he could asking

"these idiots gave you a hard time? they didn't injure my girl anywhere right?"

cheeks heating up in his hands made him smile, he loved how adorable you were, always giving him the cutest reactions at the bare minimum of what you called "his boyfriend material side"

"hm, just them messing with my glasses and pulling my hair"

"oh right, were are them?"

hearing him ask that reminded you of the issue at hand: your glasses

"ah, I remember hiroshi-san was the last one with them in hand-"

"oi hiroshi stand up"

you knew your boyfriend was in a gang and that he had been in numerous fights with many people, you even had to patch him up many of the times he's gotten in trouble and didn't want his mom to worry

but this was completely different, seeing him, being this dangerous and demanding made you feel some type of way, you knew he was strong both in attitude and strength, but even so you couldn't stop but gawk at him being this amazing

hiroshi stood up and when he did you saw that with the fall he had landed on your brand new glasses, glasses that now laid in millions pieces with a crooked frame

you felt yourself pout and with a trembling heart you stepped to gather them in your hands but before you could touch them baji stopped you

"stand up, the five of you"

hiroshi and his friends quickly made a circle around baji, completely in his hands at the fear of the said guy beating them to unconsciousness

"all of you, every single one are going to pay for her glasses" the guys looked at each other nodding their heads unable to form words with their mouths "five times"

"hah?!"

"you bastards have a problem?"

seeing baji's threatening stare made them swallow hard, bowing down and muttering a quiet "no"

"by the end of the week I want y'all to have already paid her the... prize was it y/n?"

"p-price baji-kun"

"-paid her the price and if you don't just know that I'll be hunting down every single one of you" and after ending them a dirty look he grabbed your hand and started walking towards the door as if nothing happened

"I didn't know you could pull of glasses baji-kun"

"shut up it makes me smarter"

you couldn't help the laugh escaping your lips at that statement

the two of you were walking towards your apartment complex hand in hand, baji letting his long hair loose and putting his glasses in a little pouch into his bag

"-and didn't I already told you to stop calling me baji? I'm your boyfriend, call me keisuke or kei-kun, some cheesy shit"

"it's disrespectful"

"I call you y/n all the time"

"but you're simply you, baji-kun"

"what the hell does that even mean?"

after laughing you smiled softly at him, he was really sweet and a really good boy, even going to the lengths of beating five guys for bullying you

feeling how the grip on his hand tightened he looked over his shoulder to catch your stare, you looked troubled and your wobbly lips told him something wasn't right "you ok?"

with a hand you pulled his tie down, his face coming closer to you and finally closing the distance with a sweet kiss

his beating heart let you dictate the path of the kiss, soft sigh leaving his lips as one hand grabbed the side of your face, so soft he thought to himself as your lips molded his, some few minutes passed and then you pulled away from him

"I love you kei-kun, thank you for everything"

his soft gaze on you let you know that he was starting to feel flustered and with a soft tone he replied "idiot, you don't have to thank me"

you loved dork adorable baji at times like these

grabbing your hand he continued walking down the street

"wanna eat at my house? your mom can come too, then we'll go to yours while they're together" smirking down at you he said in a low suggesting voice "that way you can pay the prize to me for saving you"

"it actually is price kei-kun"

"way to kill the moment y/n"

[watchmegetobsessed]

The Hottest Avenger - Bucky Barnes

a/n: im warning you, i will probably not stop for a while with the bucky fics so... brace yourselves lol! also i wrote this before ep 5 came out so its placed in that time

pairing: Bucky X Reader

warnings: TFATWS spoiler, some violence? nothing extreme

word count: 1.8k

summary: Being locked together with Sam and Bucky brings the worst out of you, picking on each other constantly. Following an arguement Bucky accidentally calls you his girlfriend in front of Sam when your relationship was supposed to be a secret.

masterlist

“Did you fucking eat the last dumpling?” you accuse Sam, holding up the empty takeout box where you thought were one more dumpling, one you’ve saved for yourself, but now it’s gone as Sam is eyeing you with his mouth full.

“Thought it was mine,” he mumbles, his words barely understandable from all the food in his mouth.

Taking a deep breath you’re trying not to jump at his throat right then and there. You’ve been locked up together all damn day in the trashy apartment across the street from the building where’s Zemo supposed to be hiding. Sharon had a tip about a possible place where he might be found, but you’ve been waiting to no avail for now. You’ve been growing stressed and impatient. You lost track of Karli and her people and now you can’t seem to find Zemo either. If it wasn’t for the Dora Milaje, you wouldn’t bother to be so after the asshole, but Bucky said if Ayo finds him first, he is dead and every useful information he holds goes to the grave with him so now you are forced to look for him. One failed mission has been following the other these days, that incompetent dickhead John is on the loose too after murdering that man in front of civilians and you feel like control has slipped out of your grip a long time ago. Now you’re stuck with Sam and Bucky in this crappy place, waiting by the window, watching out for Zemo and on top of everything… Sam ate your last dumpling.

Just when you’re about to snap at him, you feel a strong grip on your shoulder. You don’t have to look up to know it’s Bucky right behind you, but not just because he is the only other person in the room beside you and Sam, but also because you know his touch probably more than anyone. Only that most of the times it’s not your shoulder he is gripping…

It’s been going on for a long time between the two of you. Started with just some innocent flirting and you never thought it would grow into something more significant, but it did. And now you are officially in a relationship with none other than the Winter Soldier, only that no one else knows about it and you plan to keep it that way. You don’t need the teasing and jokes and the Avengers are known to be dicks sometimes, especially Sam.

Glancing up your eyes meet Bucky’s blue irises and he sends you a look that says “just let it go”, and though every fiber in you wants to whoop Sam’s ass, you let it slip.

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna get mad about a dumpling,” Sam chuckles as he chews on the food that you should be enjoying right now.

“I can get mad about whatever I want to,” you growl back, growing quite irritated of him at this point.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” he huffs under his breath, clearly not as bothered as he should be. Before you could do any harm in him, you leave your spot by the window, needing a breather from… well, from him.

“Hey, it’s still your turn!” he calls after you.

“I need a break,” you growl back.

“Get your ass back here, we agreed to switch every two hours!”

“Sam! I’m walking out because I’m way too tempted to punch you in the face right now!” you snap at him, losing your patience. He rises from his seat with a hard expression, not quite a fan of the way you just talked to him, but you couldn’t care less.

“You think you could actually throw one? Because last time we fought you couldn’t really get a hold of me,” he narrows his eyes at you, coming to stand tall in front of you, trying to intimidate you with how much taller and stronger he might be, but you both know you’re a better fighter.

“It’s easy to talk with your fancy tech stuff. Why don’t we see who wins in a simple battle?” you challenge him with faked boredom.

“Guys, stop. We should be looking out for Zemo, not tearing each other apart,” Bucky tries to end the staring contest, sticking his metal arm between the two of you in case any of you decides to launch at the other one.

“Then tell her to stop bitching!” Sam nods in your way.

“I’m not bitching, I’m just fed up with your bullshit!” you spat back at him, leaning closer, your chest coming in contact with Bucky’s extended arm.

“Don’t talk to her like that, Sam,” Bucky warns him, but Sam snorts dryly.

“Don’t tell me you are taking her side, she is throwing a fit for a fucking dumpling!”

“I’m not taking sides, just trying to settle this stupid disagreement here,” he defends himself and you roll your eyes.

“You can’t tell me she is not overreacting it, Buck!” Sam laughs in disbelief, taking a step back, dropping the act that he wants to fight you. He probably knows he would come out as a ridiculous loser. “This is fucking insane, I’m not in the mood to deal with your shit, Y/N,” he shakes his head.

“Hey!” Bucky snaps at him. “Don’t talk to my girlfriend like that, okay?!”

“I’m just—wait, what?!” Sam’s eyes widen and you freeze too.

Your dumbass boyfriend didn’t just out the two of you, did he? What else is about to come?! Sam’s shock turns into a cocky grin as his eyes shift between you and Bucky.

“You guys… you guys are fucking?” he asks with a delightful laugh and you close your eyes sighing, already tired of his shit.

“That’s not���We’re not fucking, I mean… It’s not like that,” Bucky stutters, but it’s just making it worse. He looks at you with terror in his eyes, but you are way too drained to deal with it the right way.

“Yes, we are fucking! And we are in a mature adult relationship! Get yourself over it!” you bark at Sam before turning around and walking out.

You faintly hear the two men talk inside, but you don’t make out the words. You don’t go too far, sitting on the steps leading up to the third floor. Soon enough you hear the door of the apartment open with a creak and a moment later Bucky shows up in your sight. He sits beside you, remaining silent for a little before speaking up.

“Sorry for running my mouth,” he mumbles, his head hanging low.

“It’s… fine,” you breathe out. Bucky fidgets with his fingers and you know he wants to touch you in any kind of way as a reassurance that it really is fine. You don’t want to hold a grudge, it was an accident, you’re just a little bummed it’s not gonna be just the two of you anymore. Reaching out you take his hand, the real one that’s flesh and meat and you lace your fingers together as he peeks at you, still reserved and hesitant.

“Is it really fine or are you just bottling it up?”

“It really is fine,” you chuckle softly and leaning closer you kiss his scruffy cheek. “The only reason I wanted to keep it a secret is because you know how vickery the guys can get. I just didn’t want them to pick on us.”

“They do it because they are just jealous,” he smirks playfully, his shoulder bumping against yours.

“Yeah? Of what?” A soft chuckle slips through your lips.

“That I scored the hottest Avenger,” he replies smugly and you can’t help but laugh with your head snapping back.

“I didn’t know you were fucking Thor!” you retort and immediately see his smirk vanish from his lips as he stares back at you, not enjoying your joke as much as you are.

“Thor? Really? Not this shit again, Y/N,” he narrows his eyes at you. Back when you were just skirting around each other, you loved pulling his leg, joking about how much you are into the hottest Avenger, aka Thor. He never appreciated it, usually earned you a tight-lipped smile before he mumbled “Tarzan’s got nothing on me” before walking away, leaving you laughing like a hyena.

“Come on, you know I’m more into super soldiers,” you grin, leaning closer as he pepper his sharp jawline with more small kisses.

“You know, it’s not the best thing to say to your boyfriend when there are now about eight more super soldiers running around,” he huffs.

“But none of them has a metal arm,” you point out, finally making him laugh.

“So that’s your kink? A vibranium arm?” he asks with faked shock and you curl your arms around his bicep, resting your chin on his shoulder.

“How haven’t you realized yet?” you chuckle. Bucky turns his head until his lips can capture yours in a sweet, lighthearted kiss that makes you forget about everything that’s been clouding over your mind these past days. All the failures, the mistakes and chaos fades into nothing, because you have him and he has you.

Walking back into the apartment Sam stares back at you, neither of you entirely sure how to act after what just happened. He then grabs his phone from the dusty table before holding it up.

“I could order some extra dumplings,” he offers and you crack a smile shaking your head. This was his peace offering, both of you knows he won’t straight up apologize for the way he talked, but this is already more than what you were expecting from him. Bucky must have had a few words with him before joining you outside.

“It’s all good.”

The three of you get back to work, taking your previous spots, returning to the task on hand as silence falls on the room once again. You catch Sam glancing at you and the Bucky and you can tell he is about to make a snarky comment on your relationship. And just as he is about to open his big mouth, Bucky moves to silence him, but you’re faster. With a simple move you throw Sam to the ground, keeping him down with your hand wrapped around his neck.

“Don’t even think about teasing, understood?” you hiss at him as he gasps for air, his hands wrapping around your wrist as he tries to fight you off, but you hold him a second longer to emphasize the importance of your words. Then you finally let go of him and he coughs for air, fixing him up from the floor as you simply walk back to your spot by the window.

“Hottest Avenger, huh?” he breathes out, revealing that he heard what you talked about out on the stairs. “More like the Avenger with the most anger issues…”

You just grin, glancing over at your boyfriend who is now standing with his arms crossed over his chest, not even bothered by his friend’s struggles on the floor as he smirks back at you, nodding proudly as if he was saying: “That’s my girl.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[slightlymore]

oh no, mr suh, please don't spank me

johnny x fem reader

cameo: taeyong

genre: !!smut!!, roommates au, fake enemies to lovers, a little tiny fluffy angst bc it's my brand apparently

warnings: a lot of mutual teasing, finger sucking, sexting, solo f and m, spanking, marking, dry humping, hand job, fingering, slight cum play, not protected, overstimulation f and m, multiple orgasms, penetration, manhandling, oral m and f, tiny degradation (sparse use of ‘little slut’), rough

words: 7K

it’s finally here!! this one is very juicy haha good luck I guess :) keep your panties dry challenge

taglist: @comically-sleep-deprived​ @strawberrymilkandcigarettes​ @theworld-accordingtocasey​ @kibumingi​

_____

"Johnny, get lost." 

You raised your eyes to meet Johnny's peaceful face in the middle of the corridor, one of them still twitching for waking up so early. 

He smirked and didn't move. 

You made a step on the right. 

He did the same. 

"John," you made a step on the left. 

His body kept blocking your way. 

"Why? Are you busy?" His voice was deep and thick like honey and in other circumstances you would have wanted to listen to it forever. But that morning you woke up without a single ounce of patience. 

You sighed and rolled your eyes. "Yes, unlike you." 

"I'm also busy."

"Oh yeah? Doing what?" 

"Getting between your legs."

In spite of everything, you couldn't help but snort once. 

He has been playing that game for weeks now. A little touch here, a little compliment there, but it was the first time to see him this pushy. 

"I told you that I don't want to sleep with my roommates," you walked around him, teasingly hitting his shoulder with yours. 

You weren't surprised to feel his fingers wrap your arm and turn you around. 

"You don't have to sleep with me. I can sleep well on my own. I need you awake."

Johnny let his palm dance on your skin until it got to your throat, his thumb rising slowly and caressing your lips. You gulped and looked down at his hand before locking eyes with him again. 

"You know what I mean," your breath and moving mouth tickled his finger and the twinkle in the man's eyes amused you. You were about to add something else but decided to do something instead - giving him new ideas to continue jerking off to later, since his dick will still be dry for a long time. 

But when you softly pulled his thumb into your mouth, you didn't expect to be the first to get that excited. 

Johnny let out the ghost of a sigh, staring at the way your pursed lips dragged around his skin, the softness of your tongue licking the tip after giving it a good suck. 

"Hm. Knew you were a little slut." 

You chuckled and raised your hands to press them on his chest and push him away before turning around with the intent of leaving him hot and bothered. 

But he was quicker. In a second your wrists were blocked by his strong fingers and his head was shaking. 

"No touching."

You narrowed your eyes amused. 

"Oh yeah? And what should I do for you to let me touch you?" 

His fingers intertwined with yours and if he didn't have that lustful expression on, the gesture would have been almost sweet. 

"Beg?" 

You opened your mouth in a slightly surprised o. 

"Me? Beg? I don't beg." 

Johnny let go of your hands with a smirk and ghosted your chest until getting to the hem of the oversized t-shirt you wore to bed. 

"Stop me," he whispered but all of a sudden you couldn't concentrate on forming words and frankly, you realized you didn’t want to either. 

So he knelt in front of you and slipped his fingers underneath the fabric, revealing your thighs and underwear, pushing it up until exposing your stomach. His breath tickled your skin first then you felt his lips, and when he placed the first kiss you got goosebumps all over your body. Johnny chuckled slowly and palmed your legs as if getting rid of the bumps but it only added to the heightening sensation his mouth was building up. And when he took out the tongue, circling your belly button, you breathed in deeply and grabbed his hair. He liked it since a pleasant grunt formed on his lips, which were going down until meeting the cotton of the underwear, then on one side, tackling your hip with slow kisses. 

Right when you were about to close your eyes and moan, you suddenly couldn't feel Johnny's lips on you anymore. You stared down just to see his annoying smirk, his locks still in your hand and his eyebrow raised upon seeing the little wet patch formed on your panties. 

He got up with a swift movement as if he had finished with all of his to-do list for the day and smiled. 

"I'll go make breakfast," he announced and walked around you whistling.

_____

Said breakfast was being consumed in silence. 

You had to change your underwear because the situation between your legs got too much out of control and when you came back Johnny already made coffee and pancakes. With little glances at his face you wondered how come he was that calm and, the most important thing, how come there was no tent in his gray sweatpants. 

Did he really think he could start a war and win? You scoffed while angrily munching on the last pieces of pancakes. 

"You okay?" he licked his lips after finishing his coffee. 

"Of course," you replied dryly, standing up and grabbing your plate directed towards the kitchen like a tornado. 

"Your vibes are kinda dark though?" he raised his voice for you to be able to hear over the clanging of dishes. 

"Mind your own business," you came back, the violent shift of air as you passed near him almost making his hair swoosh. 

_____

Tight clothes? No, more. Lingerie? Uh uh, more. Naked? Maybe too much. Towel? Fuck yeah, towel. 

Lips juicy, eyes glowing, and the plan was rolling as you stood inside the bathroom, grinning at yourself in the mirror, hands virtually rubbing against each other while physically they were wrapping your damp skin with the towel. 

Hidden behind a corner like a predator about to attack its prey, you waited to hear Johnny's steps coming towards the bedrooms. A little noise, calm and deep, arrived to your ears first. One step forward and the collusion was perfect. 

"Oh, sorry!" you bumped into him, the fabric shifting on your breasts, your fingers prudishly trying to cover yourself and - oops - failing. With hands pressed on your chest, the swell of it was even more visible now, the last drops of water shining on the skin and falling slowly inside the cleavage. 

Johnny remained silent, not even a tiny ‘sorry’ escaping his lips, his eyes completely trained on your body. Then, when you were already tasting the victory on your tongue, he suddenly looked behind you as if not wanting to look anymore. 

You shifted your weight from one foot to another, waiting for a more grand reaction but Johnny kept on a composed face. 

After a few seconds of silence, you were about to leave, lower lip between your teeth as your plan didn't make him go rogue. 

But then he whispered something under his breath and when you least expected it, he pushed you against the wall. The air got knocked out of your lungs making you breathless.  "You like dangerous games?" 

His tone was delicious, lips so close to yours, and you absolutely wanted to drink it all in. And he was right. You did like dangerous games and you also liked to win. 

"Yeah. And revenge as well." You finally smiled as one of your fingers slowly dragged on his chest, smoothing the creases of his white t-shirt. "Am I making you feel some type of way, John?" 

The man scoffed, staring you down. "Not really." 

"You can't even look at me in the eyes though.”

"Eyes? Something else requires my attention now, baby girl." 

The instant delicious burst of pleasure of his hands cupping your now nude breasts and his thumbs circling your hard nipples made your knees buckle. The towel, slowly falling until stopping around your waist, was dangerously close to getting to your feet if Johnny's hips weren't pressed against yours. 

One step back and you'd be naked in front of him and that wasn't your plan at all. 

No, no, wait. You were supposed to make him feel things, not the contrary. 

Then why were you letting him touch you like that? 

"Are you sure you're doing this for me and not for yourself?" Johnny smiled at your light panting and twitching fingers, pressed on his arms. 

"Enough," you whined, mind already blurry, so close to beg him to take you like that against that same wall. 

Johnny stopped and took a step back, his hands quickly going to your hips preventing the towel from falling any further. 

"I don't have to say it since it's obvious. But I've won. Again." 

You pulled the white fluffy fabric from his fingers with a huff and stormed into your room, the echo of Johnny's chuckle ringing in the whole corridor. 

_____

Disastrous. 

You couldn't believe that you got that hot and bothered when Johnny should have been the one salivating and losing his mind inside his room. 

Throwing away the towel you looked around for your clothes when a buzz from the bed made your head turn. 

"Are you touching yourself?" read Johnny's text. You snorted. Unbelievable. 

You weren't going to touch yourself. No, sir. You already lost a second time. You weren't about to give Johnny that satisfaction as well. 

From You: and if I were?

From Johnny: thinking about me?

From You: you wish.

You laid down, face illuminated from the phone and fingers hovering over the screen, somewhat invested in the conversation. But just a little. 

From Johnny: come on. do it.

You rolled your eyes amused and changed his display name. 

From You: you first 

From Evil dick: hm, I love winning though.

From You: you talk a lot for someone that's fucking his fist right now :)

From Evil dick: is this what you're imagining?

From You: yeah 

Johnny read the text and didn't reply anymore. You could not prove that he was taking care of his stiffy but the thought of him doing so made you feel triumphant. Perhaps it wasn't a full win but you could give yourself half a point. Only half. 

Because when you put your phone down, you couldn't stop your hand from sliding between your legs either. 

_____

You needed at least one win. 

Just once, only once, you wanted to see Johnny's honey eyes tremble under your touch. 

And the corridor was your arena apparently since the next day another opportunity arose. Short and quick. 

You smiled at him exiting his room and he smiled back. His lips were about to part and probably ask if you enjoyed yourself the previous night but no sound came out of them as your fingertip gently caressed his chest. It was barely there, a slight touch going slowly down. 

His jaw muscles tightened when you reached his pants and he jolted when you pulled his belt towards you. 

"It was a little crooked," you feigned innocence, your knuckles definitely brushing something that made him inhale silently. 

"I'm making breakfast." You smiled and walked around him, leaving Johnny alone in the middle of the corridor just like he did the day before. 

_____ “That’s not a win.”

You threw your head back on the couch arm, looking at Johnny upside down, the popcorn kernel you were currently about to eat stopped against your lips. 

“That was a win,” you replied. 

The man put his hands on his hips. “You just touched my belt.” 

You chuckled. “Yeah. Apparently that’s enough for you to cum, baby boy.” 

Johnny’s cheeks rose in a tight smile as you licked the salt and butter from your fingers. The look in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed to you and you loved it. His gaze caressed your face and open lips, then your exposed throat and low cut t-shirt. You knew he loved that angle. Could you possibly get two wins on the same day? 

“Want some popcorn?” you asked, handing him one kernel. Johnny put his hands on the couch’s arm, bending his frame down and taking it with his teeth. You looked away nonchalantly as his lips touched your fingers, and you grabbed another kernel for yourself. 

But Johnny was quicker. 

One hand on your jaw, pushing your head back even more, he took it from between your lips in a spiderman kiss. 

You couldn’t breathe for a few seconds, mouth open and skin burning from where his lips touched it. 

When you locked eyes again, you noticed him munching with a little smile. Still hovering over you, a few strands of hair covering his eyes, he swallowed and whispered. 

“I win.” 

_____

“Oh, no, I’m not drinking.”

Taeyong looked at you with the cocktail glass in his hand as if you grew two heads. “Y/N not drinking?” 

“I can’t drink. I’m on duty.”

You were still sitting on the couch in a ball, eyebrows furrowed and concentrated eyes. 

Taeyong took a sip from his drink then shrugged and took a sip from the one he prepared for you too. 

“On duty for what?” he plopped near you making you wobble slightly to the side. 

“War.” 

“On Johnny?” Your head snapped towards his innocent eyes. “You know about it?” 

The boy chuckled. “Want me to give you a few tips?”

He smacked his lips and shifted his weight to be more comfortable, his lids dropping as if about to share some juicy secrets. 

You imitated his position and leaned in to hear better.

“Make him jealous with me.” You blinked in silence a few times then sighed, pushing Taeyong away. “Are you trying to get between my legs too, now?” 

The other continued chuckling. “It was worth the shot. You can try stuff like touching him randomly, then.” You huffed. “You think I’m a newbie?” 

Taeyong sipped from both of his drinks again. “Then what about making him believe he got you so you can attack when he feels powerful?” 

_____

"Oh, no. I have flour on my clothes."

The dough you were working was still sticky so you got a handful of flour that accidentally went on your bottoms right when Johnny made his appearance in the kitchen. 

He looked down and, indeed, noticed a light layer of dust covering your black leggings. 

“Could you please clean them up for me? These are my favourites,” you pouted at him.  

Johnny smiled and sighed, getting closer and slapping your butt once, then twice, then again, until all the flour was cleaned up. 

"There's no reason to be this aggressive, you know?” you bit your lower lip. 

"But you like it this way. Don't you?" 

Another spank and you mewled, the sound making Johnny hum in appreciation. 

“You’re all clean now.” He stepped back and presumably stared at your ass with the excuse of checking for some more flour. 

“I didn’t say you could stop,” you whispered and almost regretted - key word ‘almost’ - saying it as your flatmate approached you again, his sudden dark aura making your skin crawl. 

“You want me to continue?” his voice caressed your ear, his tone highly amused.  

You acted as if gathering the courage to confess that, yes, you wanted him to spank you but, oh no, you were so shy and he was so strong, you couldn’t do it like that and in public!!? oh no, you couldn’t take it. 

“N-no, it’s better if we stop here. I- I don’t think I can handle it. It will make me go crazy.”

Even if not seeing him in the face, you could almost physically sense Johnny’s puzzled aura. Laughing to yourself you wondered what kind of reaction he would come up with this time. 

He didn’t say anything for a few moments and when you were about to turn your head to check on him, you felt his chest on your back and he engulfed your body with his arms as he pressed his hands on the counter in front of you. 

“Okay,” he whispered into your ear. “I’m giving this one to you.” 

_____

From Evil Dick: I can hear your vibrator from the kitchen

From You: I’m not using any vibrator right now From You: maybe it’s taeyong lol 

From Evil Dick: lol From Evil Dick: it’s definitely coming from your room tho

From You: you’re imagining things you wish were true

From Evil Dick: I don’t imagine you getting off on vibrators From Evil Dick: I like to be included in my fantasies :)

You: typing You: deleting You: typing You: deleting

From You: fuck you

From Evil Dick: fuck me yourself From Evil Dick: 4-2 for me

Johnny smiled brightly when you barged into his room. 

He was laying down in the dark, with only the phone illuminating his face. 

“Are you already done?” he asked teasingly. 

You stopped at the feet of his bed with crossed arms. 

“I’m here to fuck,” you announced. 

Johnny remained with his mouth open as his brain processed the information then laughed. 

“I don’t think you will,” he sat up, resting his back on the bed frame. The movement lifted his t-shirt a little, exposing the waistband of his boxers above the sweatpants and his lower stomach skin. 

You didn’t add anything and got on your knees on the bed instead, slowly crawling towards him until getting between his legs. Then you sat on your heels and took away your shirt. 

Johnny followed your frame and his eyes grew wide seeing you naked underneath the falling fabric. You smiled and his loss of words and you imitated his position, sitting in front of him and opening your legs to drape over his. 

“Holy shit, Y/N,” he whispered, eyes trained to where you slowly dragged your fingers. 

Inhaling deeply you closed your eyes and threw your head back, gently drawing circles around your clit before pushing two fingers inside of you. 

“Shit,” Johnny repeated and you whined, the wet sound telling him how you felt. 

“I didn’t say I’m here to fuck you. You can’t touch me nor can you touch yourself. If you do, you lose,” you instructed breathless and Johnny dug his fingers in the mattress underneath him. 

You smiled and bit your lower lip, fully enjoying his expression, his eyes looking as if drinking you in and were making you go crazy. 

But then he smiled too and it threw you off. 

In a second his hands were on your thighs as he pulled you towards him from underneath your knees until reaching the hand between your legs. He grabbed your wrists and blocked them in an iron grip. 

“You can’t touch yourself either.” 

You were breathing heavily, naked and so close to Johnny that you could almost feel the warmth of his body on your skin. 

“What’s with that face, baby girl? You wanted to cum?” he cooed at you. 

You bit your lower lip and shook your head. 

Johnny pouted. “Hm, baby girl can’t even lie well. Are you sure you don’t want to feel my fingers inside of you?”

You closed your eyes. “I don’t.” 

The other pulled you towards him by the wrists again until being able to whisper on your lips. 

“What about my tongue?” 

“Fuck, John, plea-” you interrupted yourself. 

Johnny smirked. “What was that? Please?”

You shook your head again. “No.” 

“I definitely heard you say please just now.” 

Panting and on the edge you considered just not caring about anything and fuck that man on the spot. 

“Truce,” you whispered. Johnny tilted his head to the side. 

“It’s not over and no one wins or loses this time,” you explained. 

“That’s convenient for you,” he teased. 

You huffed and fully sat on his lap, rolling your hips once on his hard cock. 

“I think it’s convenient for you too,” you commented after Johnny’s trembling sigh. 

His eyes grew darker and his hands grabbed your ass, pressing you on himself even harder. Your arms wrapped his neck and you hid your face into the crook of it, trying to conceal your whimpers. 

The rough material of his sweatpants did wonders to your sensitive clit and you didn’t need a lot to start shaking in Johnny’s arms. Your hips stopped as you moaned, digging your fingers into his shoulders but his hands on your waist forced you to go on. The overstimulation felt delicious and you didn’t care what words you mumbled into his ear, jolting every time his cock rubbed on your raw clit again and again. A few deep grunts and Johnny’s erratic movements told you that he was close too. You kissed his jaw then the skin next to it, then the corner of his lips, breathing in the air he breathed out then moaning once as he took his cock out and pumped it in his hand, spurts of warm cum coating your lower stomach. You looked down at the way it dripped between your legs and felt dizzy from pleasure. Johnny read your mind and quickly collected the drops fallen on your clit, drawing circles around it quicker and quicker until he had you shaking for the second time, head fallen on his shoulder and teeth digging into his neck skin. 

You remained like that, breathless and fucked out until you finally could manage to raise your head again. “This never happened,” you whispered and Johnny nodded amused.

_____

You yelped as Johnny’s wide palm slapped your butt unannounced. "John! I'm near the stove!" 

"Good morning," he smiled sweetly as he retrieved two coffee mugs from the cupboard. 

"What if I burnt myself?" you accused him even if you both knew it was highly improbable. 

"I would have kissed the bruise until the pain disappeared," he placed the mugs down and walked around you, positioning himself behind you and trapping you with his arms. One hand turned the stove off and the other danced on your stomach pulling you against him. 

"When will you stop?" you tried to steady your voice since your ass rubbing on your roommate's crotch wasn't exactly calming. 

"When you'll beg," he whispered in your ear with his playful tone. "But I'm not trying to do anything now. You were so caught up into staring at me that you didn't notice the eggs and I'm here to save them." 

You put your tongue inside your cheek to prevent yourself from smiling. Johnny breathed in as if trying to add something else but the sound of a voice made you both jolt. 

"What are you guys doing so early in the morning?"

You almost forgot you had other roommates besides your sworn enemy poking at your back with his cock. 

"Teaching Y/N how to make good eggs."

Taeyong raised one eyebrow at the scene in front of himself. "Yeah. Adding a sausage does make your eggs taste better." 

"Oh my God," you mumbled, turning around and pushing a chuckling Johnny away. 

"Do you want to know my recipe?" Taeyong raised his voice since you were already leaving the kitchen. 

"Two sausages--," then a smack and a fit of laughter as Taeyong promptly apologized for even daring to assume he could add himself into the equation. 

“Come on. I thought you were in a good mood this morning by the looks of that bright red hickey.”

“Yes and I don’t share what’s mine.” You almost stumbled on our own feet in the corridor.  

"I'm out of town this weekend, by the way. If you want to go all out…" was the last thing you heard and the one giving you the best idea for your new plan. 

_____

It was almost two in the morning and Johnny was nowhere to be seen. 

You rolled over on the bed with a huff then kicked the blanket staring at the lingerie you were wearing with sudden disgust. 

It was the weekend and the house was empty - the perfect occasion for you to play with Johnny. And where was he? Probably fucking somebody else. 

You were sick with anger. 

Getting out of the bed - his bed where you waited for him - you stripped out of the sexy lace and grabbed the first t-shirt you found. It was one of his and even though it was clean, it still smelled like Johnny. 

You got back under the covers and crossed your arms on your chest, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed. 

It wasn’t jealousy. You didn’t care if Johnny fucked other people. It’s not like you even fucked properly in the first place. You were just irritated that your plan didn’t work as you wanted it to. 

With an argh you turned on your side and hugged the other pillow, Johnny’s scent engulfing you all again. 

God, he made you so mad. 

_____

The first thing you realized as you woke up was the fact that your room didn’t have a black accent wall. 

The second one was Johnny’s arms around you - one behind your head and the other one thrown around your waist. 

You were sleeping on your back, one hand placed on top of his and the other one on the veiny forearm. With one finger you followed one of them until reaching the bicep then you slowly turned your head to look at him in the face. 

He didn’t close the blinds when he came home last night so the sun was shining brightly behind him, making him look like an angel. 

You smiled for a moment, staring at his calm expression and listening to his regular breath before widening your eyes in horror and snapping out of your sweet thoughts. 

What was that? 

You didn’t care about John Suh and you definitely didn’t care about the way his caramel hair was draping on his forehead. 

“Mm,” his raspy voice accompanied his strong arms pulling you towards him as you tried to slip out of the bed. “Where are you going?” he mumbled, eyes still closed and very much half asleep. 

You sighed and relaxed on your back again without a word and when Johnny rolled you over to face him you didn’t resist it. 

“Did you sleep well?”  “Where have you been?” you spoke on top of him. 

The words, or maybe your tone, made Johnny’s eyes open in an instant. 

You weren’t looking at him, your eyes were low on his chest instead. He raised one hand to cup your cheek with the intent to make you look at him but you flinched. 

“What’s going on?” he questioned. 

You sighed again and shook your head. “Nothing. I’ll make breakfast.”

As you tried to get out of the bed again, Johnny’s arms didn’t want to leave your body. “Y/N. Wait. Stay.” 

His hand got to your face a second time and this time you locked eyes with him. 

“I was out. Like most weekends,” he explained. 

You gulped and nodded. “Good.” 

“No, it’s not good. You don’t seem to like that.” 

You didn’t add anything, neither denying nor confirming it.

Johnny’s eyebrows met in the middle. “You’ve never had a problem with that.” 

“I don’t have a problem with that,” you finally managed to get out of bed and Johnny let you go this time. 

“I didn’t fuck anyone, if you’re wondering,” you heard him say as you walked the few steps towards the door. 

“I don’t care if you fuck people, Johnny.” 

“You do.”

Your feet stopped in place. “I don’t.” 

“You’ve just made the same expression you put on when you claim that you don’t want me to touch you and we both know that’s a lie.” His voice was calm but stern. “Just admit it.” 

You just resumed walking and exited the room. 

_____

It was weird and not something familiar to your gut, but every time you saw Johnny, you felt the urge to either kiss his lips, cry on the floor, punch his face or run away. 

The first was understandable, even if weird; the second one was absolutely weird and you had no idea what the fuck was going on with you; the third was also highly understandable. 

But it was the last one that you chose. 

So when Johnny entered the kitchen you got out. When he opened the door to his bedroom you closed yours. When he sat on the couch, you got up. 

Until he couldn’t take it anymore and barged into your room unannounced. 

“Hey! Knocking maybe?” 

You were on the bed, scrolling through your phone and looking absolutely impresentable. 

“Talk to me.” 

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not in the mood to play right now, John.” 

He walked over and sat on your bed. 

“I don’t want to play. You’re avoiding me.” 

“Look, it was fun for a while, but I don’t feel like continuing the little game we had going on. Let’s go back to how it was before.” Y

ou hoped you sounded convincing to him because you didn’t sound convincing to your own ears. 

Your words did make Johnny put on a sour expression though and you pretended to not notice. 

“Okay,” he said after a moment and you retrieved your phone from the bed, expecting the conversation to be over. 

Yet, when he placed his palm on your thigh your hand stopped in mid-air. 

“What are you doing?” 

He looked down to where his finger slowly caressed your skin, creating little goosebumps all over it. Then Johnny looked up and whatever expression you had on, it was enough for him as he suddenly got up and left the room. 

_____

“Brr, this house is colder than the heart of my elementary crush after he refused to share his food with me.” 

Both you and Johnny ignored Taeyong’s words, busy rolling your peas into your own plates. 

“What happened while I was away?” 

“Nothing happened,” you mumbled. 

“Hm,” the boy commented, munching on his food. “Wait,” he stopped, struck by realization, “ you mean like - nothing - happened? This is why you’re both mad? You didn’t fuck?” 

You rolled your eyes and got up with the plate in your hands. 

“She’s mad because she doesn’t want to admit that she has feelings for me.” 

The bomb that Johnny threw made both Taeyong and you shake in your places.

“What?” you asked incredulously. “I don’t have feelings for you.” 

Johnny calmly put down his fork and looked up at you. 

“Well, I do.” 

You opened your mouth in a silent shock while Taeyong initially gasped then soon after shrugged, whispering under his breath. “I mean, it was kinda obvious in his case.”

“And I don’t like the fact that you think I have space in my mind for other people besides you,” he continued. “Because it’s not true.” 

“Woah,” Taeyong rested his back on the chair as if watching a soap opera. 

“Did you really have to do this in the living room at dinner time?” you asked him after a few seconds of opening and closing your mouth like a fish. 

“Oh?” Johnny raised his eyebrows. “You want to take this to the bedroom instead? Let’s go,” he got up suddenly. 

“Aw, guys, come on. You always hide the funniest stuff from me!” whined Taeyong seeing you leave. 

“You know what I mean!” you replied to Johnny but still followed his quickly moving frame inside his room. He closed the door behind him and crossed his arms on his chest as if waiting for you to talk. 

“What?” you imitated his position. 

“Say something?” 

“I don’t know what to say! What does one say after all of that?” you questioned. 

“Do something? I just said I am in love with-” 

In the end you did something and that something was wrapping his neck with your arms and kissing him deeply. 

Johnny remained still for a moment as if shocked before finally relaxing his arms and tightly pulling your body towards his. 

Your mind was empty and you had no idea what was going on but after a few seconds of tasting Johnny’s tongue you were already thrown on the bed. It creaked under Johnny’s force and you jolted at the way he dragged your pajama pants down. No sexy outfit and no lace lingerie to meet his eyes, yet they were full of such intensity and lust that you realized it didn’t matter at all. Hands in his hair, you raised your bust to connect your lips again. 

“I was so fucking mad you weren’t home that night. I thought I was about to go crazy,” you breathed out while Johnny was palming your torso, lifting up your t-shirt and cupping your breasts. 

“I know. Punish me then. Show me your anger,” he joked.  But his reply turned a switch into your body and you managed to push his chest away from you. He smiled at your reaction and rolled over on his back, letting you straddle his lap. 

“I’m going to tease you so much until you’ll be the one begging me to touch you.”  

Johnny caressed your thighs. “Hm. I don’t need any teasing. You’re breaking me with your mere presence. Please, please, touch me.” 

Your breath got stuck in your throat and you couldn’t see anymore. The grunts leaving Johnny’s throat as you bit into his neck were so hot that you wondered what stopped you from letting yourself hear them before. And when you moved to his chest, then stomach, littering his skin with love bites his muscles twitched under your touch. 

You had no words to describe how it felt to have him inside your mouth. Heavy, hot and so present, you choked only on a third of it. 

“Shit,” you mumbled, taking it out and pumping it instead with your hand. 

Johnny loved it anyways and he looked at you with such intensity that you wondered if you could make him cum with only a few kitty licks. 

“It’s alright. You don’t have to,” he breathed out. 

“It’s alright. I know I have a monster cock and you don’t have to suck on it if you can’t handle being deepthroated,” you mocked him trying to imitate his tone. “Well, I want to and I will.”

And so you listened to Johnny’s airy chuckle, broken by the feeling of your mouth on him again, this time deeper than before. 

“You love a challenge, huh?” 

You would have said that, yes, you loved it and you loved to win, if it weren’t for his cock sliding down your throat making it difficult to talk. 

“Fuck, baby, that’s- oh shit-,” he grabbed your head as you bobbed your head up and down a few times before you couldn’t take it anymore and let it out with a lewd plop. 

“Baby?” you raised one eyebrow at him. 

“You don’t like it?” 

“Do I look like a baby to you?” you smiled with wet lips, your hand restlessly pumping his cock hard and fast. 

Johnny grunted again, his hips rising to meet your touch even more. 

“Hm, no, you look like a little slut right now,” he agreed with a smirk before his expression changed again into, you realized in that moment, the best view you’ve ever seen in your whole life. Head thrown back and completely at your mercy, Johnny came hard, his whole body twitching as his cum spurted on your hand and face. 

“I think I won this time,” you pumped him a few more times before letting him go. “Hm, you drink so much coffee,” you smacked your lips after licking his cum off your fingers. 

“This wasn’t part of the game.” 

“Yeah, well, I’ve just decided that it was,” you shrugged. 

Johnny grabbed his discarded t-shirt and cleaned his stomach. “So, are we playing now?”

His tone got dangerous and his expression made your wet pussy even drippier but you had no time to worry or form a single thought about it since you suddenly found yourself with the face on the mattress instead. 

You turned your head sideways to be able to breathe and Johnny’s hands didn’t even try to be gentle when they pulled your panties down. 

The loud smack arrived before the sensation of his big palm on your asschecks could. When you finally felt the burning sensation, another slap added to that. 

Your fingers grabbed Johnny’s blanket, preparing yourself for the third spank, absolutely not expecting his tongue inside of you instead. 

“Fuckfuckfuck-” you mewled but your sounds only made Johnny more ferocious, hands opening you up, eating you out as if he’d been dying to do so for a long time. And it was true for yourself too, but no imagination of yours could have realistically portrayed the way he was making you feel and no fingers of yours could reach as deep as his did, fingering you fast, tongue not stopping for a second, not even when you violently went over the edge with the loudest moans you’ve ever heard yourself emit. 

“You win, you win-,” your rough throat tried to stop him from torturing your overstimulated clit and you heard him suck on his fingers after he let you go. 

“Okay, I’ll take it. But this is just the beginning. Are you going to let me fuck you, baby?” he caressed your ass, going down to your waist and cupping your breasts. 

The movement made his cock poke at your entrance and you imperceptibly opened your legs even more. 

“Yes, please,” you whispered back, turning your head to meet his lips as he lifted your chin. 

“Hm? Say that again?” 

“Please.” 

His tip easily slipped inside but the stretch still made you hiss through your teeth. Johnny shushed you, kissing your shoulder and neck until he bottomed out. “You can handle it, right baby?” You tried to nod but his first thrust knocked the air out of your lungs and you let your head fall down again with a whine. 

Johnny moved again and again then stopped with a grunt. “Beg a little for me again.” 

You bit your lower lip, his tip pressing right when you needed it to and you wanted him to do it non stop. 

“I don’t think I will beg again,” you whispered with a smile and started to move your hips instead. It was a sloppy and slow job, nowhere sharp and quick as Johnny’s, but you had to win again. 

The man let your ass bounce on his stomach a few times, staring at the way you were stretched around him then he grabbed your waist and left you all empty. 

You whined, clenching yet nothing being inside of you anymore. 

“I said beg.” 

His breath was now on your spine, his wet mouth placing kisses on your skin, making it shiver and taking some of it in his teeth, sucking on it until he was satisfied. 

But you remained silent and he clicked his tongue at your stubbornness. In a single go he filled you up again and this time he never stopped. 

He was breaking you in half and if you hadn’t already had tears in your eyes, this would have been the time to start crying from pleasure. 

“Holy fucking shit--John-” you cried out, breath rhytmically broken by his deep thrusts and when he added his slaps again, you just lost it all, cumming so hard that the neighbors were probably ready to call an ambulance. 

Johnny stopped balls deep inside of you, feeling the way you clenched around him. And when you thought it was over, when you barely started to hear again, he moved as hard as before, shushing you and pressing his fingers roughly into your skin. 

“You can handle another round, right baby? You’re such a pretty little slut with a bigger attitude than she can carry. This is nothing for you.” 

Fucked dumb, you could only nod and Johnny started to lose control himself, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, some drops falling from his collabones to his chest. And when you felt his cum spurt inside of you, you finally begged, repeating it again and again. Johnny didn’t stop and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to move at all the next day when your muscles contracted for the nth time in so little time, collapsing completely after Johnny slowly slipped out of you. 

His breath felt wet and boiling on your face when he dropped beside you. 

He swallowed a few times trying to catch his breath. “Fucking finally. I knew it was going to be epic. Why did you refuse me for so long? Look what you missed.” 

You would have snorted if you had the force so you resorted to just let out a whine. “I refused so I couldn’t see this. I have a big attitude? Well, you have the biggest ego in the world.” 

Johnny turned his head towards you. “And cock.” 

You rolled your eyes and accepted his hands pulling you towards his chest. 

“Ew, you’re sweaty,” you mumbled. He kissed your forehead. “And you love it.” “No,” you denied it, “butIloveyou,” you added quickly. 

Johnny shook your body in a hug. “Hm?? Say that again.” 

“I didn’t say anything!” 

That grown man pouted at you making his eyes wide and glossy. “Please?” 

“Whoa,” you smiled, “are you acting cute at me right now? After killing me with your monster cock?” 

Johnny nodded cutely and repeated the plea. 

“Okay, okay. I-- love you.” 

He chuckled happily and tightened his arms around you again, squeezing you in an almost mortal hug. 

“Again.”

You sighed realizing that you were suddenly dealing with a child. 

“I love you.” 

And you repeated it again and again until you were sure that he finally fell asleep. 

With one hand to caress his face you finally indulged in staring at him, fully realizing what that weird sensation in your gut was. 

“I really love you.” 

Your whisper was tiny and barely audible but Johnny smiled. 

“I know. And I love you too.”

[midgardianweasley]

Your grace! Bless us with a Natasha x reader where the team is invited to a wedding by a close friend of Tony’s. Then when the bridal bouquet is thrown, the bride throws it too hard where reader accidentally catches it and the team is just going “Oooooh!” And reader is like “I’m not even in a relationship!” But the team know in secret that reader and Natasha have feelings for each other but are too dumb to know. Just funniness and fluff! 🥰😍 (Your writing is brilliant btw!)

I loved this request!! I hope i did it justice <3

it’s a wedding thing

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

^idk Nat, you tell me^

Summary: When the Avengers get invited to a close friend of Tony's wedding, what hidden feelings will surface? What relationships will bloom? Who will be the next bride?

Warnings: none!

word count: 4.1k

Message/ask if you want to be added to the taglist!

requests are open loves

“Alright gang, this one’s for all of us, we all listening?”

A cluster of ‘yes’ ‘go on’ ‘come on Tony’ filled the room, everyone eager to hear what the fancy envelope held inside. It was amusing to watch Tony take advantage of everyone’s excitement, slowly peeling the envelope, gasping when he pulled the letter out of the casing slightly, not letting anyone else see what was written on it.

You, Natasha and Wanda all seemed to share a look of amusement at the dramatics and the almost visible frustration coming off of everyone. It was like watching children try to wait patiently for sweets in a shop, almost completely off of their seats. It wasn’t until Tony noticed that Pepper was giving him a warning look, that he, begrudgingly, hurried up and announced what was written on the letter.

“Wow. Caleb’s getting married.” He spoke, eyebrows raised in surprise. “And he’s invited the team.”

“Well, I’m not going.” A voice spoke from the corner of the room, clearly un-amused by what was currently going on.

“Luckily for you, I don’t see ‘reindeer games’ anywhere on the invitation. So you’re off the hook.” He replied with a tight lipped smile, Thor had been visiting recently to see Jane and pay the avengers a visit and wanted to bring Loki to meet her.

‘A pleasant trip’ Thor said.

‘A living hell’ Tony corrected.

It got a laugh out of the team though. Nat and I especially. We’d spent the last couple of nights in each other’s bedrooms, making a list about our favourite moments through the day where Tony and Loki clashed, making stupid insults towards the other. I think it’s safe to say that we went through multiple bags of popcorn over the nights, though you were both thankful it was there, it was the only thing muffling the laughter, if it hadn't, you’re almost certain the entire compound would have woken up at the sound of our laughter.

You nudged Natasha’s side gently, the bicker between the two men still continuing.

“Hey, Nat.” She turned and tilted her head questioningly.

“So we know how a physical fight between those two worked out. But, if they had to compete in a rap battle, who do you think would win?”

Her face immediately lit up, eyes sparkling which only enhanced their beauty, you could almost feel the cogs turning in her head, trying to go through every logical option.

“Well. Loki seems pretty well spoken, so vocabulary wise, I think he’d be strong. But Tony is sarcastic which can help with quick quips. But then again, Loki-”

“Hey lovebirds, Romanoff, Y/L/N” Tony clicked his fingers, earning himself a pair of eyerolls at the term he’d used. “Anything you wanna share with the team, or can we move on?”

“Actually-”

“Overridden. Moving on.”

You looked towards Natasha, snickering slightly at how blunt he’s being, Loki having found his way under his skin again. A part of you felt bad for the man, but that feeling is soon replaced by amusement. It was obvious Nat felt the same way, her sharing the same expression as you, although, you could hide yours much better. She had to physically put her hand over her mouth in the hopes the man wouldn’t notice her.

“So, the wedding is next week, a little short notice but when do we ever have enough notice, who’s in?”

Looking around the room, there were a handful of nods, each looking to see who else was going to go. You looked towards Nat again to see if she was planning on attending, only to find her already staring at you.

“So Y/L/N, up for a wedding?”

“It would be a nice change of pace. Are you going?”

“Only if you are” You blushed slightly at the response.

“Better get your nicest dress on Romanoff.” You winked, her turn to blush and focus back on what the rest of the group was saying.

“It’s probably easy if I list couples first on the RSVP and then the singles.” Tony took a glance around the table, mentally taking note of those who had shown signs of agreement. “So there’ll be Wanda and Vision, Legolas and his wife, Romanoff and Y/L/N, Thor and Jane-” You felt your face morph into one of confusion.

“Woah woah, Tony, back up, what did you say?”

“Thor and Jane, they’re-”

“Before that.”

“I’ve said this before Y/N, Legolas isn’t actually real. I meant Clint.”

“Very funny.” He held a proud smirk. “Romanoff and I aren’t a couple”

You wish.

“That’s not what Rogers said when he saw you both cuddling up on the sofa last night.” Before you had a chance to look in Steve’s direction, you could practically feel the daggers Nat was sending him, making his face cringe slightly and his back straighten.

“That’s what Rogers said, is it?” She spoke, tilting her head in question. You knew she was partly joking, but you’d still decided to intervene before anyone lost any limbs.

“My head fell onto her shoulder when I dozed off during our movie. It wasn’t ‘cuddling’ , thank you very much.” You laughed, internally wishing that Steve’s words were true.

“See? So cut it out.” Steve put his hands up in surrender, despite having a cheeky grin on his face.

“Okay okay. Fine!” The billionaire said, writing something on the envelope. “I’ll just put ‘couple pending’” He muttered

“Stark!”

__________________________

You and the girls had just come back from dress shopping, all three of you had spent the whole day in and out of different shops, hours in dressing rooms and your voices were almost completely gone with how often you were telling each other, ‘that looks stunning’ ‘that’s the one!’ and the most common one by the end of the trip; ‘please just pick a dress so we can go home and nap’. That one was from our very own black widow, her patience wore a little thin after 8 hours of staring at dresses.

You had gone through all the colours and styles while you were out, ranging from classy jumpsuits to figure hugging dresses that felt like a second skin. Wanda and Natasha had chosen their dresses and were eager to find you one, and what a mission that was.

“I promise you, we’re not going home until we find this dress, okay?”

“Wanda’s right. We’ll stay out until they all shut if we have to. But, let’s make that a last resort.” Natasha eyed you both warily.

You’d been walking around for hours now. Each dress you tried on had potential, but there was always something that didn’t sit right with you. It was either too baggy, too tight, the cut wasn’t appealing, the length wasn’t ideal, it was starting to feel hopeless. You’d even suggested just going in your pyjamas, but Wanda’s death glare had made it clear that wasn’t an option.

You and Natasha were both dragging your feet, Wanda still having a slight spring in her step as you walked into the final shop and picking up a couple of dresses before then going into the dressing room to try them on.

The first two were okay, but you weren’t a fan. Then there was the third one. The third one was a gorgeous Y/F/C dress that fell just past your knees, it had thin straps and the skirt was simple and loose so that when you spun around in it, you felt like a princess. You looked in the mirror and you adored the reflection, you still wanted the others opinions though, though you didn’t doubt that they’d feel the same way.

Pulling the curtain back and gaining their attention from where they were looking elsewhere, you smiled when you saw their reaction, more specifically, Natasha’s. Wanda was complimentary, walking up and feeling the fabric, gushing about how beautiful you looked, but you barely heard it, too focused on the redhead sitting in front of you, her eyes glazed over and her jaw almost on the floor, completely zoned out on you.

“This dress is it, Y/N, you have to get it! Nat? What do you think?” Her head shook, bringing herself back to reality and briefly meeting your eyes, only to quickly dart between You, Wanda and your dress in an attempt to compose herself.

“Yeah, I mean, wow, you look- wow.” Her hands flailed in your direction. You’d knocked the assassin speechless. Wanda rolled her eyes playfully at the interaction. She’d known about you and Nat’s feelings for each other for a month or two now, silently cursing the both of you when there was an opportunity to confess, yet never did. It was obvious to the rest of the team, why were neither of you picking up on it?

Keeping quiet, she ushered you back into the changing room, much to Natasha’s relief, both because she wanted to head back to the compound and she wasn’t sure how much longer she would’ve lasted seeing you standing there looking literally flawless. She always thought you looked amazing, but there was something about the way you looked in front of her just then that made her brain feel like a haze.

It was pretty safe to say,

You bought the dress.

Collapsing on your bed, dropping your bags to the side and letting out a loud sigh, you heard your door shut and someone fall into the chair by the window. You already knew who it was.

“I’m exhausted.” The woman groaned, rubbing her hands up and down her face to attempt to physically remove the tiredness from her body.

“Sorry for dragging you around for so long, I just-”

“Hey, no, don’t apologise for that. We all said we’d find the perfect dress, and it was worth the wait.” Heat rose to your cheeks at her words.

“You really think I looked good?”

Natasha could sense your underlying tone of doubt, unsure as to why you would doubt her opinion, she’d always been honest with you. Nonetheless, she heaved herself out of her seat and made her way to the end of the bed, kneeling down so that your now sat up figure could look down into her eyes, with her hands on each side of your face to focus you on her and her alone.

“I wouldn’t lie to you, okay? You looked incredible and I'm sure you’ll look even better at this wedding on Saturday, if that’s even possible.” You let out a small chuckle at her words as a smile made its way onto her face.

“You’ll be the prettiest one there.”

“Better not tell the Bride you said that, Nat.” She laughed, looking down for only a few seconds before looking at you again.

“We’ll make that our secret.” You nodded in silent agreement, grateful that she’d made you feel so reassured.

“Thank you, Tasha.”

“You’re more than welcome, sweetheart.” She replied.

You were so lost in her words, you hadn’t realised how close her face had gotten to yours, and how her eyes swapped between your eyes and your lips. You didn’t realise how she subconsciously had kept edging towards you, hands trembling a little with every inch closer she gets.

She wanted to kiss you. Every nerve in her body was almost electrified with the temptation to just move her lips over yours and become one. Her pulse raced, almost to prepare her for doing so. Which is why she wanted to kick herself with a pair of her highest heels when she uttered her next words.

“We should get some sleep.”

You broke out of your trance, jumping backwards slightly when noticing limited space between you both. You awkwardly coughed as she stood, heading back over to her chair to grab her bag and return to her room.

“Yeah, yeah of course. Big today, rest is probably a good idea.” You both nodded, she was already one foot out of the door when she gave you a small ‘goodnight’ and left, not waiting to hear you say it back.

Just like you hadn’t realised her actions early, you were oblivious to her hitting her head off of the wall in the corridor just outside of your room, wondering why she’d backed away. Where was Thor’s hammer when you needed to knock some sense into yourself? She thought before dragging herself back to her room where she would fall asleep, unable to get you out of her head.

_________________________

“Right! Headcount before we go in! And I want us all on our best behaviour Avengers, this is a wedding” Steve had completely lost you after ‘Headcount’. Not only are most of you fully grown adults, sorry Peter, but he seems to be oblivious to the fact that some of you were wearing high heels, and patience in high heels had an expiry date.

“Y’know, if he doesn’t let us in soon, I’m not afraid to threaten him with his own shield.” You heard a whisper just behind your ear, smirking at the comment.

“I’ll join you.” You answered, Bruce and Clint sharing a knowing look from afar when watching the two of you have your own quiet conversation, though short lived when they saw Natasha’s head move in their direction, their gaze coming to a halt so as to avoid any conflict with their teammate.

You guys could try to hide it all you want, but your entire team knows better than that, they just had to wait it out until you both finally admitted it to the other.

______________________

You and the Avenger’s were currently sitting at a guest table, now in the reception part of the evening. The ceremony was beautiful, the bride wore a crisp white ball gown with her makeup and hair done to perfection, the groom looking like a prince in his black tux and a look full of adoration towards his wife to be painted on his face.

Their looks weren’t the best part of it though. The clothes and the accessories were lovely, of course. But all you could focus on was the love shared between them as they shared their vows telling the other how they believed they were each other's soulmate, and that they promised to always be the other’s rock. You’d found yourself with tears in your eyes, barely able to appreciate the sight with how blurry your vision was now. They finally fell when they said their ‘I do’s’, feeling only happiness for the newlyweds.

Although marriage hadn’t been something you always thought about, you’d hoped that you would meet your special someone and settle down, retire from the missions, the battles, the superhero lifestyle and just be with your soulmate for the rest of your days.

Despite not being a couple, whenever you thought of the person you wanted to spend the rest of your time with, there was only one person that came to mind. And she stood right in front of you throughout the ceremony, comforting a sobbing demi-god while he was also trying to explain to Vision why he was in floods of tears.

Music filled the room, upbeat, but calm enough for the couples on the dancefloor to sway gently to the beat, soft lights occasionally shining on them as they danced, the bride and groom being one of them. You smiled gently at the sight, feeling dreadfully single with all of the love in the room, but grateful that you could see so many people look so content and in love with their significant other.

An elbow could suddenly be felt in your side, pulling you from your thoughts to instead be met with gorgeous green eyes and a bold red smirk.

“Penny for your thoughts?” She leaned in, curiosity clouding her mind.

“Nothing much up there really.” You glanced back at the dance floor quickly. “I’m just happy to see everyone so happy.”

Natasha followed your direction of where you were looking, an idea soon popped into her head. She was going to ask you to dance.

Her mouth opened to speak, but as if it was done on purpose, a ‘screech’ echoed in the ballroom, catching everyone’s attention, including taking yours away from hers.

“We’re taking a break from dancing for a minute folks, It’s time for the bride to throw the bouquet!” He announced, soon followed by shrieks and the sound of feet padding on the wooden floor, women all gathering in a small bunch, huddled together as if their lives depended on it as the men all returned to their seats, shaking their heads at the commotion.

Not really wanting to take part, you turned back around again.

“Sorry Nat, what were you-”

“Y/N!” Your head fell as you were interrupted by a very excited Maximoff.

“Y/N! C’mon! We need to do the bouquet toss!” She started to pull you up, refusing to listen to any excuse you could possibly conjure up to avoid having to take part.

Giving the team a desperate look, hoping someone will help you escape, you’re instead met with encouraging and amused faces, including Natasha’s a clear indication that not a single person was going to help you. Traitor’s.

With a half serious eye roll, you quickly grabbed your glass of champagne and kicked off your heels, heading towards the group of screaming women basically crawling on top of one another when the bride was barely up on the ‘stage’ yet. You let Wanda wander off into the group but remained towards the back, sipping from your glass and sending the occasional sneaky glare towards your table.

“You guys ready?” The bride yelled, only to be met with more screams and a faint chorus of ‘yes’ heard among it as they all threw their hands higher. Wanda saw you were just stood there, and subtly used her powers to raise your hand, earning loud laughs and cheers from the Avengers, taking great joy in the scene unfolding in front of them.

“Okay! Three...Two..”

You kept your arm up, pretending to be enthusiastic about the toss, when you realistically didn’t really expect much from these kinds of traditions. What you definitely hadn’t expected, was for your figure to stumble backwards as you suddenly felt petals and stems in your palm, a faint feeling of silk brushing against your thumb as your fingers wrapped around the item.

You almost spat out your champagne, eyes widening in shock as you looked to see the arrangement of flowers in your grip, looking up to see women both disheartened and elated at your catch. How the hell had you managed that? You were literally the farthest person away, and on your own! You must’ve been set up. Okay, a bit of a stretch, but still!

“WOOO, Y/L/N IS GETTING MARRIED!”

“WHO’S THE LUCKY SOMEONE Y/N?”

“Y/N CAUGHT THE FLOWERS, Y/N CAUGHT THE FLOWERS.”

The bride noticeably laughed at your friend’s cheers, she hadn’t meant to throw it that far back, her arm just kinda went full force, but seeing the reaction it caused, she didn’t regret it. She didn’t even regret it when she saw the look of embarrassment on your face, as it was soon replaced with a contagious beam as you walked towards them again, a very proud Wanda in tow,

“Guys! Guys! I’m not even in a relationship! I highly doubt i’m the next woman in this room to get married.” You joked

“Well, I wouldn’t be so sure.” Sam laughed “Romanoff, you got an engagement ring handy?” He yelped as a peanut from the centre of the table was thrown at him, and of course with being a trained assassin, Nat had hit him right in the centre of his forehead, earning a dramatic noise of pain to leave his mouth.

These guys will be the death of you.

__________________

After some teasing, the room had filled once again with happy couples dancing, now including some you were very familiar with, one being a genius billionaire playboy philanthropist and his CEO wife, and another being an Asgardian with his Midgardian girlfriend, both gently moving side to side in time with the music.

Letting out a content sigh, you were met once again with the flowers, however, this time, they weren’t on the table, but were held by a gorgeous woman in a flawless navy dress.

“So, I know we aren’t a couple, but, would the future bride like to dance?” She asked, you let out a content sigh, pretending to think it over for a minute.

“Y’know what, I would, thank you for your kind offer.” You took the hand she’d held out for you and led you to the dance floor. While her hands went to your waist, gently tugging you closer, your arms went around her neck, hands interlocking behind her as you, like the others you’d admired all even, swayed.

You’re unsure when it happened, much like a time before, but your head had made its way onto your dance partner's shoulder, your body following suit as it left no room between the two of you, though you weren’t complaining. Neither was the fellow Avenger.

It was peaceful for a period of time, the only sound being the slow music and a quiet chatter of people across the floor. It wasn’t long before you heard the red head above you whisper in your ear once again.

“You really do look amazing tonight, Y/N.” You raised your head so it was directly opposite hers, sending her an appreciative gaze.

“That future fiance of yours is lucky.” She winked.

“Hilarious” You scoffed, fully aware of her humorous tone.

“I know, sometimes I amaze even myself with my jokes.”

“Well, it really is funny, because I honestly don’t see myself getting married anytime soon.” Nat’s eyebrows raised in what could almost be described as confusion.

“And why is that? Do you not want to get married?” Her hands started grazing up and down your waist, like she was comforting you, but really she was bracing herself for what was incoming.

“No, no it’s not that. I just..”

“Just?”

“I don’t think the person i’m interested in, is necessarily interested in me.” Her heart dropped. So you did have someone of interest. She pushed the sinking feeling to the side quickly so that she could respond.

“Right, and why is that?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen them make a move. I thought it’d be obvious. I think it has been to some others.” Your eyes wandered, lingering for longer than what was probably appropriate, on Natasha’s plump lips, wondering if you’d ever get to experience what it’d be like to feel them on yours.

This time, Natasha didn’t miss it. She would’ve blamed it on alcohol, saying that she must’ve just imagined it, but she had only consumed a few drops all evening, being too entranced by you didn’t leave much room for hydration. She hadn’t been more thankful, because it made a light bulb go off in her head as the pieces came together in her head of who you were referring to. She didn’t make a move the other night. It was obvious to the team. How could she have been so blind?

You didn’t see it coming, even when your chin was held in her grasp and you saw her face leaning in towards yours, the reality only hitting you when you finally felt what you’d been wanting to feel for the last months, right now. Your surroundings had just disappeared, the only thing that was running through your head, was the way her lips were moving against yours, and the way her lips tasted faintly of vanilla, and how she smelled like her floral perfume she wore for special occasions.

Whooping and cheering brought you both back from your bubble with just the two of you, your head falling just below her chin, her hand stroking your back as you could feel her chuckle bubbling where your head lay. Well, hid. Her arms had muffled their comments, but you had an idea of what they were, probably a mixture of ‘finally!’, ‘i knew it!’ and you’re almost certain you heard a ‘You owe me 20 bucks.’, that one making you shake your head.

Remaining in your hiding spot, that wasn’t very well hidden, but was keeping your bright red face to yourself, a pair of familiar lips lingered right beside your head.

“So, about that bouquet..”

You weren’t getting married, but by the end of the night, you definitely didn’t feel so dreadfully single as you had earlier.

taglist: @the-dumbass-that-throws-knives

[9tzuyu]

who you are

note: mostly made this for my own comfort, but i do hope it helps and/or comforts any fellow lesbians :]. i normally wouldn’t specify sexualities on any characters because obviously everyones going to feel differently about different characters, but like i said this started off for my own comfort bcs i was hashtag goin through it.

prompt: basically just reader struggling to accept themselves as a lesbian. sorry non lesbians :(

warnings: heavy heavy heavy on internalized lesbophobia. talks about comphet (trying to force oneself to like men) and wanting to be ‘normal’

thank u ally for proofreading <3

not tagging anyone just because i don’t want to trigger :[

. . .

you were wrestling with something, natasha could tell that much. your eyebrows were drawn together, eyes lost in a gaze. it wasn’t until the third time tony called your name when you snapped out of it.

“sorry,” you mumbled.

“well are you going to answer the question?”

natasha noted the tapping of your foot, knuckles cracking beneath the table. it was obvious you weren’t in the right state of mind to be answering any kind of question. foolishly, no one else picked up on that except for the redhead.

“what was the question?”

tony sighed, his patience growing thinner by the second.

“i asked if your report was done. it was supposed to be handed in three days ago, remember?”

your foot tapped faster.

“yeah- yeah, i’m almost finished.”

it wasn’t like you to be so late on things like this, you were usually on top of everything.

“you told me you would have it ready by today. this is the fourth time this month that you’ve done this. you’re dragging your ass and the rest of us are getting pretty tired of it.” a collective agreement could be heard from the team. all eyes were on you waiting for a reply.

if you hadn’t felt anxious before, you most definitely did now.

“it won’t happen again.” tony blew off your statement and rolled his eyes. you shifted uncomfortably, nauseous from all the negative attention.

you couldn’t help but wonder if they knew. maybe that’s why they were being so short. it made sense after all.

natasha tried making her way towards you, but she was stopped by steve’s hand on her shoulder. you were well past gone by the time she managed to scramble away from him.

your back pressed flatly against the wall, tears steadily falling down your face. hatred was all you felt. hatred towards yourself. 

why couldn’t you be like the rest of them? why didn’t you belong? 

whywhywhywhywhywhy

granted, you knew there was absolutely nothing wrong with being gay. that was never the issue. the issue was the fact that it was yourself, that there was no possibility for you to ever be attracted to men. 

you were sure it would be a phase, that it would pass, that you would forget about it and never think about it again. you tried to go on dates, tried to form a relationship, tried to enjoy having sex with them. none of it worked, no matter how much you forced yourself to believe it would. 

all you could think about was how sick and disgusting you felt. and the shit representation didn’t help your case at all. the media hardly ever portrayed a good, well-rounded lesbian character that wasn’t problematic, over-sexualized or dead. 

the media only reiterated the fact that you were supposed to want men. you were supposed to find the right guy and fall in love with him, call him your husband and start a family. 

a knock on your door pulled you away from your thoughts. you shuffled your way back to your feet, drying your eyes for good measurement. 

natasha stood patiently, eyes drilled on your doorknob. if it were up to her she’d be picking your lock, but she knew that would be crossing a boundary. she went to knock again when your door swung open. 

“hi nat.”

“hey,” her voice was soft. “you’ve been crying...” she pressed her hand against your face, thumb rubbing the top of your cheekbone. 

you shrugged. it wasn’t like you could deny her, your red eyes had already given away the truth. “yeah.” 

she hummed, “may i come in?”

you hesitantly moved out of the way to let her through, cursing at yourself for finding her so attractive. 

“you know you can talk to me, you always do. why haven’t you said anything?” natasha moved to sit on the edge of your bed. “you’ve grown quiet these past few days, it’s not like you.”

“i’m just tired, worn out from work i suppose.”

she nodded, though she knew better than to believe such a lie. natasha could always tell when you were lying, something you both hated and loved at the same time. 

you sat next to her after a friendly tap on the bed. her gaze made you feel like a little kid in trouble. it was as if she already knew and was prepared to say the worse.

“i don’t believe you.” 

“well, i don’t know what you want me to tell you, nat.”

“how about the truth?” you scoffed purely out of defense. “and what good would that do?” 

“it might relieve whatever you’ve got on your heart.” you met natasha’s eyes and your lip immediately began to quiver.

“i’m afraid you won’t be able to look at me the same.” 

she softened, taking your hand in hers. “there’s nothing in the world that would change the way i see you.”

“you say that now, nat, but-”

“i wouldn’t say it if i didn’t mean it.” 

you thought about it further. natasha had never been one to judge someone based on the things they’ve been through, the things they’ve done or the things that make them who they are. she saw people the way they were, nothing more, nothing less. 

but what if she didn’t like you or see you the way you were? you weren’t sure you could handle the aftermath if that were to be the case. it was bad enough you struggled to accept yourself, natasha’s disapproval would only break you. 

“i’m a lesbian.” a lump in your throat began to form and you found yourself crying once more. “i tried so hard, i tried everything i could think of, but i can’t, i don’t like men.”

you coughed, choking on your words. 

“i don’t understand, nat! i don’t understand why i can’t be normal. why can’t i do it? if i just liked men i would be okay, i would be fine, i would be fucking accepted.” you paused for a breath of air. “i just want to be normal.” 

natasha was taken back by your confession. it was nothing near what she thought it would be. she expected you to tell her you’d been stressed or that you were scared for the next mission. 

“i’m sorry, i-”

the spy quickly cupped your face, tilting your chin upwards as a hint to meet her eyes again.

“look at me, c’mon, hey. you have nothing to be sorry for, don’t ever think that you do. i love you for who you are. there’s nothing wrong with being a lesbian. you’re normal, you’re who you are, who you’re supposed to be. you are real. i promise you are.” 

without thinking you leaned into natasha, clinging on to her for dear life. her arms found their way around your body, hands rubbing your back up and down. 

“you should be proud to be who you are, not ashamed. and if you’re not proud of yourself then please know that i am. i am so, so, incredibly proud of you, sweetheart.” she finger brushed your hair as you continued to cry. “shhh, you’re alright baby. i’m sorry you’ve been dealing with this alone.”

“it’s okay nat.” she gave your body a small squeeze, frowning at your response. “you shouldn’t have to feel like you need to force yourself to be someone or something you’re not. you don’t deserve to struggle so much for your own acceptance as a lesbian.” 

you nodded, though she could tell you weren’t fully convinced. “the only opinions you should care about are your own and the people you love and cherish. i know that’s easier said than done, but it’s true. besides, what you told me just gives me something more to love about you.” natasha finished off with a delicate kiss to your forehead. 

“this means a lot to me, nat. thank you, for everything really.” 

“oh sweetheart i should be thanking you for trusting me with such an important part of you are.” you shied away, a growing smile forming on your face as you leaned into her shoulder.

natahsa smirked, clearly aware of the effect she had on you. “who knew you could be so cute?” 

“nattttt.” 

she rose her hands up in surrender, “alright, alright. i’ll stop on one condition.” 

“what’s that?” you mumbled. 

“would you let me take you out for dinner tonight? i’ll show you just how beautiful it is to be with a woman.” 

“yeah, yes- yes please, that’s fine.” natasha could’ve sworn she heard your heartbeat quicken and she had to refrain from letting out a small laugh at your flustered state. 

“we need to clear that little mind of yours. i’ll be back here at seven on the dot, okay?” a pat on the leg caught your senses as you watched her stand. the last thing natasha heard was the soft “okay” fall from your lips as she walked out the door.

you’d never been happier to be a lesbian in your life by the end of the night.