#and now I could be on the brink of homelessness again?

[vanity-complex]

Like, I knew shit was gonna be bad, but holy shit… now that Trump has signed a bill specifically excluding DEI programs from being funded by federal institutions so many of my colleagues research funds have frozen and the university won’t use their endowment to continue them. And now there is talk about my scholarships and funding being frozen and possibly rescinded which means I couldn’t finish my degree. I knew the only reason I was allowed to go to school was because of Biden Era policies that paid my way, but I didn’t expect them to be called into question and possibly dissolved so quickly. Literally three and a half years of schooling and a year’s worth of research could be gone and I could be left back where I started with no degree and no prospects…

[wutheringcaterpillar]

Hi! I was wondering if you would be willing to write where Tommy finds out he has a step-daughter from Lizzie’s confession (her daughter was born long before Lizzie became a prostitute and hid her pregnancy), but her biological father has full custody. He is curious about his step-daughter, sets out to find her, and ends up wanting her for himself.

Warnings: stepcest, dubcon, smut, creampie, age gap (reader 18, Tommy in his forties), daddy kink, tommy being a shit husband🤣, some choking

thank you for the request, hope you enjoy!

“Tommy I just don’t know about this. Why is he here?! He’s a dangerous man and I hadn’t planned on seeing him ever again! The egotistic, sharp tongue bastard..” Tommy had never seen Lizzie in such a frantic state. She was pacing the kitchen biting her nails, her brain scattered with memories from her past lover back in high school. He was now a powerful banker who laundered money, and abused his position by making the rich, richer, never fighting for his people but against them.

Something seemed off, his wife was always well composed even when something bothered her, and this he could tell was bothering her. She’d never admit it but she was scared of him, he knew something about her Tommy didn’t and she was concerned her husband would look at her differently.

Downing a glass filled to the brim of red wine, she pulled out a cigarette while Tommy sat in a chair, thumbs rubbing together while his eyesbrows furrowed together.

“What does he have over you eh? It must be something for you to be drinking at nine in the fucking morning with Ruby here.” She scoffed, blowing smoke into the atmosphere. She had to tell him, what choice did she have? He was meeting with Hector tonight for business, and she loathed it immensely. When she wasn’t sitting down, Tommy stood up stopping her in her tracks, giving her no option but to look into his piercing blue eyes. He could tell she was on the brink of tears but was holding her heavy emotions back, or trying to at least.

“Take a breath and talk to me. I can’t help you if you’re hiding something.” His eyes searched her worried expression for an answer, hands settled gently on her arms.

Contemplating her decision, she caved.

“I have a daughter Tommy. A fucking daughter can you believe that? I knew Hector back in school, we were lovers and he lead me to believe he’d always be there. That was until I became pregnant with Y/N. I was overjoyed at first but when her first birthday arrived I was having a bad night and-“ She stopped for a moment, sniffling and wiping at her nose. Tommy nodded reassuringly that it was alright for her to continue.

“And I fucking came home drunk and found him fucking another girl. I lost my shit as any woman would, and-and I stupidly pulled out a gun and fired, I nearly killed my own fucking daughter. She walked into the room behind me and the door startled me, I missed her by hardly a centimeter. He then filed for custody, had his whore of a mistress as a witness and I fucking lost. He left me without money, without visitation rights, I was homeless and desperate for money. I haven’t seen her since…She should be 18 now, a full grown adult can you believe that?” Tommy wiped away one of her tears caringly, no judgement present in his sapphire eyes. 

“We all have bad days eh? Why didn’t you just tell me?” She fell to the chair, weeping hysterically. She thought to herself, ‘God woman pull yourself together this was almost two decades ago’. Tommy still stayed unphazed, an idea etching his brain.

His thumbs caressed her shaking hands, taking a seat and watching his wife fall apart the worst he’s seen her. He was Tommy fucking Shelby, surely he could find Y/N for her.

“Love, look at me. I could find her eh?” Her breathing seemed to steady as she patted her heated cheeks with a tissue.

“You would do that for me?” Tommy shrugged like the proposal was nothing. Surely it couldn’t be that difficult after all the other fuckers he’s had to deal with and figure out their patterns.

Within a week Tommy had your location but hadn’t told Lizzy just in case you weren’t willing to come. After traveling for three hours, here he was in his black suit standing at the doorstep of a brick apartment building just outside of the city. 

Cars aligned the sides of the road yet no one was really outside. Clearing his throat, he knocked at the door.

“Coming! Hold on!” He raised his eyebrows, your voice still sounded young for a eighteen year old girl. Surely daddy’s money paid for you to be able to afford a place of your own but hell what did he know. Yeah he did his research before coming but Hector did well as a father and keeping your profile low considering his business dealings, but not low enough for Thomas Shelby.

When you opened the door in nothing but your silk pjs, chewing on a piece of candy, the chilly wind blew your hair wild while your eyebrows furrowed together in confusion.

Surely this couldn’t be Lizzie’s daughter? She was too damn attractive.

“Do I know you?” Your arms crossed from the cold air. The tall, mysterious man was dressed more formal than most people you knew aside from your father. He had a chiseled jawline, piercing blue eyes, and smelt of cigarettes with a hint of cologne that wasn’t too powerful.

“Do you always answer the door in your pajamas? You never know who might be on the other side. Can I come in? I’m a friend of your father’s.” Shrugging, you walked back inside leaving the door open for him. Silly girl, clearly your father has never taught you to never trust strangers. Tommy couldn’t help but stare at the way your ass jiggled with each movement in the snug blue fabric. Lapping his tongue over his lip, he checked his surrounding before following you in and closing the door behind him.

“Tea?” Tommy waved you off, politely declining before taking a seat in the kitchen while lighting a cigarette, spreading the tip over his lip before lighting the flame.

God you were a cute, devilish little thing. He could tell with each delicate step on the newly put in floor you were going to be trouble. Such smoothe, youthful skin. Especially the way you strutted around him, breasts bouncing with each joyful movement.

He was more than interested to see where this might go but business was needed to be had first. When you took a seat beside him, his eyes diverted from your body up to your innocent, enticing eyes. God even the way you batted your eyelashes was making him shift his growing shaft in his seat beneath the table.

“I’m Thomas Shelby from Birmingham. I’m here because your mother just recently told me about you.” You stopped chewing, wiping away the milk that was now dripping from your chin. The white substance sending filthy ideas to Tommy’s mind. Shit he had to focus.

“My mother? Who are you her husband?” When he didn’t respond, merely raising his eyebrows and making a clicking sound with his tongue gave you the answer you were in search for.

It was fascinating to him how suddenly the subject of Lizzie seemed to silence you. Your lips turned upside down into a frown as you cleared your throat looking toward the window instead of at Tommy’s frigid, introspective stare.

Offering you a smoke, you declined, arms wrapping around yourself as you changed the subject, wanting to avoid the anxiety this situation caused you.

“Mr. Shelby, if this was the only reason you came out here I hate to be the bearer of bad news but I just can not face her. Not after she abandoned me. If she loved me she would have put in an effort long ago. Is there anything else I can help you with?” With your avoidance of the topic, you stood up but could still feel his eyes on you as you discarded the dirty dish into the sink.

Replenishing his cigarette, he sat with his hands folded when you returned to the room, his posture straight with determined, curious eyes. Unsettling you slightly yet you were unable to look away.

“This is going nowhere so I’m just going to get to the point. Do you want to fuck Y/N?” His bluntness left you speechless, eyes growing wide. Yes he was very attractive, the palpable tensions growing stronger when he stood up from his seat and began inching toward you, circling and stopping at your backside. His bulge now pressing firmly against your ass.

His fingers touched your thigh, grazing over the sensitive skin lightly while his lips rested behind your ear. “Have you ever had a man satisfy you love?” His fingers inched further up into your pathetic excuse of shorts, hand resting on your heated mound, your wetness having stained through your panties. He caressed the eager area gently leaving you stood frozen in your tracks. Gulping back the nervous thoughts, you shook your head no. He circled over your sex, massaging the untouched skin while he placed a soft, chaste kiss beneath your ear.

“Your mum and dad wouldn’t have to know. You seem like a smart girl, surely you could keep a secret eh?” His free hand tucking itself underneath your shirt, grazinf over your naval. As he ascended up, shivers of anticipation riddled your spine, an aching sensation, a dire need washing over you when he grasped your breast, fondling the cushiony skin greedily, fingers twisting and pulling at your hardened nipple lightly.

“One thing I’ve learned is resisting temptation only escalates our most desirable wants and I know a young girl like you, you’ve had to hold back for so long haven’t you love?” His fingers dipped in between your heated folds making your eyes fluttered closed, head falling back onto his broad shoulder involuntarily.

Tommy couldn’t help but smirk to himself, having euch a young, pretty girl that was supposed to be forbidden so easily desperate at the slightest touch of his fingertips.

When he pulled out his digits, you breathlessly whined from the sudden emptiness unexpectedly. He had you right where he wanted you.

“All you have to do is say yes Y/N..” Fuck you knew this was wrong, but his alluring scent and seductive yet intimidating blue eyes only increased the moistening of your cunt.

He could feel your heartbeat thud eratically, the trim of your waist wriggling from anticipation against his hardened member, all the young, intense thoughts he could imagine driving through your mind.

In the heat of the moment you turned around in his arms gracefully, hair flowing innocently, the strawberry scent being the last thing Tommy inhaled before your plush, delicate lips clashed against his. 

His large hands held your cheeks softly, deepening the kiss with each passing second, tongue delving in and intertwining with yours. He tasted of cigarettes and mint, like a man should of his demeanor.

Effortlessly, he swoopped you up beneath your thighs, skin slapping against the wooden table when he set you down.

His hands grazed the delicate curves of your body, grasping at any and every part of you while the strap of your shirt descended from your shoulder, Tommy’s lips instantly connecting to the warmth of your neck. Leaving hickies on your neck, wanting people to know you had been taken.

Your hands fumbled with his leather belt, making him smirk in between the pursing of his lips.

“Eager are we love? Knew that innocent act was merely a facade.” 

Peeling off your shirt, he ripped off your thin excuse of bottoms, revealing your dripping cunt, slick leaking our of your untouched rose onto the surface. Tommy felt his cock pulsate when it was released, slapping against his abdomen. 

Your teeth bit down on the skin of your bottom lip, lashes batting desperately for him.

“Is my step daddy going to fuck me nice and hard?” Tommy scoffed before positioning himself between your thighs, his cock plummeting into your explosive heat, walls already feeling as if they were squeezing his shaft from how exceptionally tight you were.

“Ah, fuck…” The pain was present but the feeling of being so stuffed, an empty void filled from his large member was overwhelmingly pleasurable. The sight of you so breathless with your eyebrows furrowed initiated Tommy to have little to no regard for patience, needing to take you right here and right now.

When he pulled out he pounded right into you, causing your hands to almost lost their balance on the table, boobs bouncing with each powerful thrust. 

“How’s that for nice and hard sweetheart?” Before you had a chance to respond, his nauls dug into the smoothe skin of your hips while he rutted into you, hitting your cervix relentlessly, needing to feel that sweet release inside of you.

Unable to hold yourself up any longer, your back fell onto the table, fists curling at the edges while your eyes glanced down, lips agape at the sight of your step father bottoming out in you. His fingers connecting at your throbbing, pulsating clit rubbing fast but sensual circles into the sensitive area.

“Daddy…” Your voice was hoarse, on the verge of cracking from the overstimulation, only egging him on more.

Balls slapping against your skin with each impulsive blow, your hips rolled against him in unison, grinding down until you felt the texture of his partially unshaved hair, needing every singular inch of his cock buried in you.

His eyes never left your vulnerable body, focusing on how with each movement your body responded positively, feeling the warmth of your hot nectar coating and warming his length.

You were beautiful, sexy, breathtakingly attractive displayed beneath him, lips parted lustfully as he devoured you.

“Are you going to cum for daddy hm? Cum all over me cock, my little whore.” The degrading words stroke you in a fulfilling need, a building desire bubbling inside you. You felt like a dirty little secret, having sex with an older man who happened to be your step father, so wrong yet felt so, so right.

His frigid touch sent chills down your spine when he wrapped his large hand around your throat, holding you down while he continued to pump in and out of your dripping cunt, watching how your pussy was so willing and eager to take him.

You were close, so close to your climax.

“Ke-keep going. Harder..” You barely managed to muffle out from the grip he had on your neck. His frigid, cold eyes staring at you with a animalistic expression, a sly smirk on his face.

Your wish was his command. The entire table shook beneath you, a glass vase falling off and shattering on the floor while your eyes fluttered back. 

His free hand grasped your breast, clutching the cushiony skin when he felt your toes curl around his waist.

“Go on love, don’t hold back. Show me how that pretty pussy feels… Cum for me.” Within seconds your lustful, loud moans were filling the room as you came undone, your sweet nectar flowing like a river down onto Tommy’s cock. The beautiful, euphoric reaction of your high not allowing him to wait any longer. His seed spilling out into your pussy, shooting sporadically against your walls painting your insides white.

When he pulled out he looked at the work of art, watching his cum leaking out if you before pushing it back inside making you mewl from his touch.

“There, there. You’ll be alright. I have to get going, your mother is expecting me anytime now.” You pouted in confusion, unsure if you were to ever see Tommy again. He noticed the fret in your expression and made an offer.

“I don’t want any of these fuckers touching you. I have the money and your mother doesn’t have to know I could buy you your own place in Birmingham. A safe property, not too far from me but not close enough your mum would ever figure it out. How does that sound darling? I could offer you anything and everything you ever wanted, including me cock anytime you want…” This was a big decision and maybe you would have been thinking more clearly if he hadn’t just fucked you senseless. Agreeing to the terms, he nodded, gathering his belongings and kissing you gently on the cheek. Before he could leave you stopped him.

“Wha-what are you going to tell my mum?” Lighting a cigarette, he blew the smoke from his lips.

“Don’t worry she’ll never know I found you, but if you change your mind. I have her number. She’s not a bad person, your mum just think about that eh? All the information you may not know. Life lesson one from a step father to his daughter, always know both sides of the story, only way to play the game your way.”

When Tommy drove home Lizzie was pacing once more with a dire need to know if her husband had found you or made any progress.

“Well, what did you find out?” Tommy shook his head no, causing Lizzie to frown in sadness, feeling on the brink of tears once more though this journey always seemed to end the same, absolutely nowhere.

“Dead end. Maybe one day she will come around eh?” Lizzie was filled with sorrow, going to her coping mechanism of having a glass of whiskey and a smoke. Meanwhile Tommy was adjusting himself beneath the desk, reminiscing your sweet scent and the feeling of your cunt wrapped around his cock, fucking perfect you were and within a week you’d be moved out here, 45 minutes away. A drive he was willing to make for his newly found step daughter.

[thelightningbottler]

EP1 -  Addiction = Transcript

Italian Blend No. 4

It’s not the first pot, but the second 

that coils you up into upright positions 

that turns the key in your conscious prison. You’re here now,

in the instant. No drifting for you. No dreaming,

instead moments where you simply… stop existing.

Like the plug was pulled, for a few seconds and you comeback

systems stuttering reeling from

being turned off and on again hands constricting

muscles contracting eyes wide open

with synapses firing.

So here you are 

Present

Awake

under duress. Sleepless

and dreamless

Because if you submit yourself to such My, you must

have some damn good reasons.

To subject yourself to such a lesion. Why the insistent forgoing of rest? Rest. dearheart. 

“Do you smoke?”

“Well do you?”

Do I smoke?

Do I smoke?

Yes bitch

I fuckin’ smoke.

Smoke what?

Where do I begin?

There’s been marlins and Harlems and Cowboys.

There’s been Henson and Bedges and Mayfairs.

There’s been astral cheese,

Purple haze,

And so much Stardawg that I still taste diesel. 

In my lungs and on my lobes.

What else you got? I’ll smoke it all.

Heroin? Not until I’m 60

Crack? Not until I’m 65. 

Cocaine? At some point, when I’m richer.

I’m down for the best tastes in the world. 

But I’d rather be on the brink of life.

What else?

I’ll smoke that peace pipe.

I’ll inhale the gun smoke

On a smoking gun.

In the detective’s hand

While he’s trying 

To investigate it.

I smoked with Minnie,

Poor Min, 

And her bloke named Smokey.

As it pours down with rain 

(Huddle Up)

We look to the sky!

(Cuddle up)

Round a fire pit

Where we launch off fireworks.

Watch as the smoke drifted west through the skies.

Poor min, 

I still see her now and then

Picking up fag ends in Dunstable High Street.

That’s a long ass street to be picking up on.

There’s two sets of lights two miles apart and

You best hope you chose the right one.

His hokey ass joints 

Taste of fumes and smog,

Taste of kippers and paprika

Prevented only by me

Says smokey to me

His form turned into

A giant bear.

It’s a trick

An illusion.

Do I inhale the smoke from the stack?

Do I encounter the mirror that made the trick work?

As flames as far as Hemel Hempstead go up

In my business all I’m remembers the smoke

“You smoke?”

Yes I smoke, 

For the burn,

That primal energy

That steals the oxygen from my lungs

Gives me heat and tar

And the slightest

Ever so slight

Satisfaction.

'Cigarette Packets'

She was never any good for me in fact she was toxic with her Laughing and her coughing reminding me with each kiss that only she could make me happy slowly poisoning me I left some packets empty Stewm around the flat like discarded garments to gather in a box to give back and every time i pick one up i remember her smell Her taste and think "Damn, she was a good kisser. "

Darts instead of Change

Toasty Tobacco And tasty tar

Slug through my lungs at glacial speeds.

But now, dear friend We have to part

On advice of doctors friends and family.

No more, while waiting for a bus will a roll and a spark

summon metal beasts to their stop.

No longer when passing homeless men, can I offer darts instead of change,

Warming the cheeks on winters days.

You were a friend through thick and thin 

A shared revolver withmy peers

Kept the bullet chamber spinning

kept me moving for years and years—

  Rather than fester 

  Bedridden Sleeping 

  through

  My loves and fears…

And now you’re gone So, what is left?

What has taken your sacred place?

An Extra Thirty Quid a week and a stupid flavoured vape.

[swirlingtorments]

RX for Love

I took a moment to start a fanfiction that actually is close to my heart. It holds a lot of true events that happened in my life. The events are not great, but hey, we all can chose to rise, no matter what life throws at us. I think Edward and Isabella are perfect for telling this story.

Summery:

Losing a patient drives Dr. Edward Cullen, the perfectionist, to the brink of madness. Isabella is down on her luck, to the point of madness.  A dark cold night in New York, and a lapse in judgment leads to an act of desperation.  They didn't expect to ever see each other again. "Miss Swan, Dr. Cullen will see you now." ExB/AH.Cannon Couples/Doctor-Patient Love. 

Chapter 1:

Why did I always have the worst luck? Homeless and desperate I agreed to get into a black Mercedes and let a man fuck me.

It was unexpected. He pulled up to the curb, his car window gliding down before he beckoned me closer. Leaning in, the first details that caught my eye were his striking silver eyes, the impeccable tailoring of his black Armani suit, and the gleam of a Rolex watch on his wrist.

Indeed, I had an eye for class and could distinguish the true high rollers from the pretenders. And he exuded the aura of the former. Curiosity piqued, I speculated about his profession and his reasons for choosing me.

Surely, I didn't fit the profile of his usual company. Clad in my half-torn mini dress, smudged makeup, and hair slick with grease, I stood out starkly against his elite standards. Yet his demeanor wasn't that of a gentleman either. His actions were unrefined—tinged with anger and a hint of desperation.

It was almost like…he needed me. He didn't know me, but he needed me to be with him in that moment.

So, what the hell was he doing at a medical clinic offering charity care to the less fortunate? It was weeks ago, but I knew his face. It was him. Damn.

I let out a horrific cough as I watched him from across the medical clinic, providing medical check-ups to the less fortunate. He exuded an air of sophistication and expertise, effortlessly portraying the image of a polished and accomplished doctor. However, behind closed doors, or should I say in the front seat of his car, he transformed into a commanding and dominant force, unleashing his inner animalistic desires. The stark contrast between his professional demeanor and his raw, primal nature was unsettling.

It had been ages since my last medical check-up, and I was painfully aware that I was overdue for one. Fortunately, at least, it wouldn't cost me anything. Every winter, the Cullen clinic would offer complimentary routine check-ups to those living on the streets or anyone struggling financially. In addition to healthcare, they also provided shelter when the weather turned dangerously frigid.

Surviving New York's relentless winter cold was a merciless struggle. A ragged cough clawed its way out of my chest, triggering a throbbing pain in my head. Luck never seemed to be on my side. All these years, I had weathered the biting cold of New York winters without falling ill. Yet, this year, it seemed my good fortune had finally run out. It had to be this year, of all years, that I fell sick – and just my luck, he was the doctor on duty. What was he even doing at a charity clinic, anyway? With his status, you'd think he'd have more prestigious places to be than attending to the homeless.

"Miss Swan?" called a woman with a friendly voice.

"Yes, that's me," I replied, rising to my feet. My gaze followed as her hazel eyes found mine, offering a warm smile that beckoned me closer. Wrapping my arms around myself, I glanced down at the scuffed sneakers I wore and walked toward her.

"This way, please," she instructed, leading me through a corridor and into a cozy examination room. As the door clicked shut, she presented a clipboard. "How are you feeling today, dear?"

"I'm not well," I stammered. "I've got this persistent cough, and it's been keeping me up at night. I was hoping to get something to help with that."

"That sounds tough," she sympathized. Producing a digital thermometer from a cabinet, she swept it across my forehead. The beep was followed by a concerned frown. "102.4—you've got a fever," she observed, jotting notes onto her clipboard.

"Would it be possible to get some cough medicine?" I asked hopefully. "I would be fine skipping the full check-up if I can get that." She offered a patient smile.

"Let's have the doctor take a look first. If they agree it's the best course of action, we can get you a prescription. A doctor's approval is necessary, however."

"Oh, when will I be examined?" I asked with a hint of unease.

"The doctor will be with you shortly," the nurse reassured me. "He's just wrapping up with another patient but has been informed that you're next."

I pursed my lips in thought. "So, he's the only doctor here?"

"Yes, unfortunately. There's a lot of illness going around, and he's covering for tonight," she explained. I exhaled a resigned sigh. Just my luck. "Don't worry," she said with an encouraging smile. "He's a very kind man and an excellent doctor. He'll take good care of you."

Sure he will.

"I'll start by taking your weight and blood pressure," she said, proceeding to do so efficiently. After recording the results on her clipboard, she fetched a cloth gown from the cabinet. I eyed it with surprise as she placed it beside me.

"Um. What's that for?" I asked.

"It's for you," she answered, smiling kindly. "Please undress and put on the gown, with the tie at the back."

"Wait. W-why? Is that necessary?"

"Since you haven't had a medical examination in a while, as noted on your paperwork, Dr. Cullen prefers to be thorough. Believe me. I've worked with him for a long time. He's going to request it. He'll need to conduct a comprehensive check-up to ensure your medical records are current and to provide an accurate diagnosis."

My heart sank. No, I thought to myself, I can't do this. I shook my head faintly.

"It will be all right," the nurse reassured me, sensing my discomfort. "I'll be present during certain parts of the exam. It's not pleasant, but if you go through with it, I'm sure Dr. Cullen can prescribe the treatment you need."

Sighing, I wondered if it was truly necessary. "I just need some cough medicine," I said, hoping for simplicity.

"I understand, dear. But it's all part of the protocol," the nurse replied.

Resigned, I responded with a terse "Fine." It seemed I had no choice but to comply—either play the role of a patient or suffer another sleepless night.

She offered a comforting pat on my knee. "The doctor will knock before entering to ensure your privacy. I'll take your chart to him to ensure everything is prepared and will go smoothly."

Smooth process? That seemed unlikely. Left alone, I began to disrobe, reflecting on how little I wore: a frayed, black mini dress, hole-ridden stockings, and a faded red bra that now appeared black. The oversized, unattractive green jacket that I had snatched from a Goodwill donation truck completed the ensemble—an ensemble that was far from charming.

It made me wonder again… why had he desired me that night?

Dressed in the provided cloth gown, I perched nervously on the examination bed, the paper crinkling beneath me. My hands twisted into anxious fists at the thought of meeting Dr. Cullen.

I had no knowledge of him being a physician—let alone that he was the proprietor of this entire clinic. How could I have guessed that the man who had fucked me with such primal intensity was the owner of the Cullen Med-Clinic and Hospital?

Would he recognize me? Perhaps not. He might have already dismissed the memory of our encounter.

After all, to the world, I was just another faceless figure in the crowded streets of New York, a homeless girl. That night, it seemed as though he had detected my dire need for money and sustenance, exploiting my desperation.

The images from that night were still vivid.

I was desperate. And he knew it. He knew I wouldn't say no. Once I was in his car, he didn't ask how much I wanted. He didn't even ask what I was willing to do.

He ensured I wouldn't say no by setting a stack of bills on the dashboard. Sure, I had thought about leaving…but I couldn't take my eyes off the stack of bills he so carelessly threw on the dashboard. Nor could I ignore the lust and hunger in his eyes as he looked me up and down.

Once he was sure I was all in, he simply grinned, his silver eyes taking me in. That's when he spoke for the first time. His first word to me?

"Strip."

"What?" I had said to him.

"You heard me. Strip. Now. Everything off."

It didn't take long before I was sitting on his lap in the driver's seat of his car, my legs straddling his hips. Him, reclined against the seat, his white shirt unbuttoned, his bare chest glistening with anticipation, telling me how good I felt. His finders dug into my thighs as I rode him, with all the strength I had, the smell of sweat in the air. I moaned as he sucked my breasts and spouted vulgar words between raspy breaths.

Even when I told him I couldn't go on, his response was to effortlessly flip me over and, without mercy, and take me from behind. And I let him. Yes. I had reached that point out of sheer desperation for money. The mere thought of money and a warm meal eclipsed whatever shred of pride I had remaining.

After we were done, he gave me time to redress.

He observed me with unnerving interest yet remained silent throughout. Not a word of thanks, not a single query of whether he might have caused me harm. Instead, silence loomed until I was fully clothed.

Only then did he retrieve the wad of money from the dashboard and extend it to me. Clutching the bills in my lap, I found myself questioning whether the act I had just performed was worth the compensation. I didn't consider myself a prostitute. I had never engaged in sex for money, nor had I ever casually entered a stranger's car to grant them their desires.

It was out of character for me, yet there I was, the weight of shame growing in the car's silence. Eventually, he broke it. "Do you need a ride somewhere?" He asked me.

I had declined his offer. In response, he leaned across, opened the passenger door for me—an unmistakable nudge to exit. And I complied. Once I stepped out, he accelerated away, his engine's roar punctuating the sudden void he left behind.

I never expected to see him again. That night, I had sworn to myself that I would never sell my body again.

The sudden knock at the door made me jump. "Miss Swan? Are you decent?" came a voice from the other side.

I closed my eyes. It was unmistakably his voice. My breath hitched, turning into a nervous cough. "Yes," I managed to reply.

I steeled myself for what was to come. It was time to face the examination.

Just be natural Bella. Act like you don't even remember him. Maybe he would behave the same way and we could just pretend it never happened.

….Yea….This was going to be awkward as hell.

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[lr31o]

sometimes i hate my own success. i feel like this is tricky to explain, but i'll try my best. i feel like every time i succeed in things i want to do, it obfuscates the fact that i struggle. like, it makes it so that my struggles are invisible and it makes me feel like shit cause it feels like i'm just pretending to fight with my own mind all the time. the truth is it's always been hard for me to focus and just sit down and draw and do things that i need to do without being overwhelmed. but whenever i do, i click -- i do them quick, i do them great, and my struggles become invisible. i feel like getting diagnosed with anything is fucking impossible because i almost have nothing to show for it. i graduated at 19. i have a job. i can't prove that i'm a sad sack of shit who's on the brink of being dysfunctional. the closest i got was last year when i lost my job and almost went homeless. i almost just want to kill myself to prove a point. i had started cutting my wrists again then. but i suppose i'm in a better state than i was now.

but it's a bit paradoxical, isn't it? as much as i hate success because it makes my struggles invisible, i also want to succeed. who wouldn't? there's so much i want to do this in this world. i wish i didn't struggle as much. i just wish people could see me struggle sometimes. i wish i could make my pain palpable. i am not okay, but how do i prove that? do i really have to wait until the levee breaks?

[staygoldsquatchling02]

this so fucking real, I’m 21 still living with my parents because non of use could live on our own. My mom is chronicly ill, she has a broken back, colostomy and is on socail security benifits, my dad can’t find a job right now because no one wants to hire people who actually need jobs here. i just started a new part time job and im scheuled to work only 8 hours for the next two weeks. We also live with my uncle and grandmother, my grandma’s social security basiclly pays our rent with very little left over, my uncle gets unemployment every week cause he was my gandmas caregiver before we moved and is trying to get that started again. we barely have money for food, my moms check every month pays our car payments, insurance and phone bill. we get 60 dollars in food stamps, every day we wonder how the fuck are we gonna eat because there is no one we can really ask for help from. not only is everyoneunderpaid and houseing over priced, we are being fucked over by jobs. i quite my last job because i was being treated like trash and when i quite the manager said it was because i just don’t want to work. it’s all a bunch of bullshit. we get judged becaues “we don’t want to work” when yeah youre right i don’t want to work if it means having to earn my pronouns and respect. i hate that i have to choose between being on the brink of homelessness and being treated like trash things need to change.

[jodilin65]

Yesterday, I was hit with intense thyroid fatigue, but today I feel a little better. Because I jumped the gun and assumed the lung tightness was from the spray, it really messed things up over the past month. If only levothyroxine were a short-acting drug! That would make everything so much easier. I’ve increased my vitamin D, but I’m cautious about overdoing it too far ahead of lab work. Now, it’s just about finding the right amount. I’m planning to take this particular dose every other day since it’s just a children’s multivitamin. I’ll step it up to daily the week before labs.

Yesterday, I felt so frustrated and even depressed, wishing the ground would open up and swallow me. Just like a car can’t run without gas, people can’t live without energy. It literally drives our bodies and our lives. More and more, I think about ending it if things don’t get better. I’m so damn tired of only having a few good days now and then—really, I am. Each year, I’m being pushed closer to the brink, and there’s only so much more I can take.

A million times I’ve asked myself… Why did I have to get this disease? If I hadn’t, would I have suffered so much over the last decade? Would I have ended up this tired and fat?

Honestly, I can’t help but hope there’s no God because the idea that one would let this happen, then do absolutely nothing to help, is frightening. If there is a God up there allowing this or actively making it happen, it makes the concept of an afterlife—and endless potential suffering—even more disturbing. I really hope God is just the fantasy it seems to be.

I’m not kidding when I say I can’t hold on forever, and I won’t. If I don’t get my energy back by next year, I’m done. I refuse to spend the rest of my life lying around, wishing I had the energy to live my life. Whatever curse is over me, it won’t let me die, but it also won’t let me live well. If he really lives into his 80s, I’m not going to get cancer in five years, nor will I die of a heart attack or stroke in ten. Until I end it myself, I’m practically invincible in a sense.

Another thing that’s worrying me is that my sleep cycle is slowing down again after it was rolling faster, which might make my next appointment even harder.

The person with the truck that’s been parking at Ray’s has been staying there, but they’ve been quiet.

Last night, the redneck posted about his homeless neighbor walking around at 11 p.m. The guy the nutjob took in. Apparently, they go to the clubhouse looking for cigarette butts, which is a little odd since you’re not supposed to smoke there or at the pool (though some people do smoke outside the clubhouse).

Someone also mentioned the dogs that bark in the subdivision down the street, saying they’re surprised no one has complained. My thoughts exactly! Also, why couldn’t I say something like that and not get lynched for it?

I’ve always been surprised that it’s gone on this long, and I don’t know how those nearby tolerate it. Someone suggested it might be a kennel, but maybe people have complained and gotten nowhere. People might be quick to complain about others here in the East, but they’re just as sensitive to being complained about as people out West.

Despite my many hobbies, I’m finding myself bored sometimes. I wish I could find something new and exciting, but nothing’s coming to mind. I’d love to role-play, just to chat casually with various characters in my stories—not intimately, just talking. But what would I talk about, and how many times could I cover the same topics? I thought about acting out scenes from my stories, but I can’t get into the idea. Adults can’t pretend the way kids can; they bring a realism to it that just isn’t possible for me. I can’t trick myself into believing something I don’t actually feel or believe.

I told Mia that I sometimes get bored at night, even with all my hobbies, and she replied that having many hobbies doesn’t always stave off boredom.

So, I shared my role-playing idea with her just to get her take on it, where I would interview some of the characters from my story—something I’ve heard other writers do. She said she’d heard of it too, and that authors really do this. I asked her how to go about it and admitted that the idea seemed a little silly, but I’m open to trying something new to fill my time. Like I told her, though, I’m not a kid anymore, so make-believe doesn’t feel the same as it would to a child. She suggested I imagine the characters suddenly here and think about what I would naturally say if they were.

I’ll have to try it sometime, though I’m still figuring out how to approach it. I guess I’ll just jump in and say what comes naturally, as Mia suggested, instead of having a specific topic in mind. The only thing is that while I can imagine what I would say, I can’t really know what they would say back. Maybe this whole thing is a bit ridiculous after all.

Current Location: Florida

[gplewis]

if uneasy, try merging with text

which is a swimming down

like a dart-serpent bolting from the harsh sunlight of the surface appearance into the cold circulation beneath, quelled by the welcoming goddess of nonsense i can invent out of nowhere, or tune back into, never separated from the land below the land ~ no concern whether this seems profound or even real, i wrote it because i could not live in my life as it were, having moved to a new city without a plan and finding no motivation to make a life, meet the right people, get involved (this isn’t true; i do go out, i try; no one would ever say i’m not doing enough. fear of running out of money is the main fear — imagine if money were no object: how would i choose love? what does rapacious living look like? eager and ardent? furious, curious, passionate, leaning and lunging like i did in days of yore: the urgency to rip up these railroad tracks ~ maybe i’m a more gentle painter now. But being a writer is humiliating, to reveal all this output, these thoughts ~ what could being seen do for me? Maybe my life resets all the time and never sets, never congeals into a narrative: maybe there are no more chapters, no more discrete beginnings and ends … the love of form is a love of endings. now i see that origins and destinations are one: listening to music, no idea whether what’s coming is going to be safe, driving home by lamplight, no end in sight, the mystery and drama renewing every moment, no rest from awareness and unstable trembling.

maybe this is necessary nonsense to try and adjust my thinking so i can move my body toward certain ends - is writing my work, or is living? i can’t just Do Things to do them, to fill the emptiness and cure (allay) the dread ~ it’s been a while since i’ve made myself onscreen: in a sense these photos i just took are perfectly my aesthetic: lost, wandering, looking, finding myself in familiar objects ~ to write the story of how i arrived here would be to tell a story of privilege, luck, fine parents, more grace and forgiveness than i deserve, alienation and exile from the workplace-driven model of a modern existence — but now, out at a bar, standing on the concrete floor listening to conversation warmed by the glistening television screens in my periphery, i can’t leave work since my insanity is my work. this simply doesn’t make sense and doesn’t look like anything else being posted, though i’ve taken a break from reading and being online all day, an odd move considering i went to Austin because internet people are here, but as soon as i have a way to save myself through belonging, i instinctively transform into something that could never fit in, ensuring my apartness … maybe purity and detachment are so strong in me, my compass leads me only here, into bleeding on the cross of inability to have or make a life and instead giving my life up to the addiction and obsession, calling and fate of narrating silence and articulating my pathless, endless walk ~ nonfiction encounter with the author’s own stuckness and inability to make a life that works seems more genuine and necessary than fiction right now, though i’d never launch my missile of claiming such a thesis into the cauldron of ravenous attention where such claims are registered, the internet

so i’m on the street doing the wrong things, the things that won’t save me, and taking pictures and making notes, wondering if i have one more lucky save in me, if the archangel is watching his prized little knight go to the familiar brink again, like last year: now i know all the years are the same, people don’t change

is it my fate to dissociate from my own name? i tried to live a life apart from writing and i couldn’t, i won’t, i don’t want to; the blistering terror of homelessness and being forsaken raises its head: maybe it’s what i need, to shock me into a direction i can commit to. is surfing my dread in my own words enough? i’m chill in this emergency

[ncutigatwafans]

Ncuti Gatwa made the top of The List Hot 100 - a list celebrating the 100 most important cultural contributors in Scotland in 2022

The article reads: You may know him as the gregarious Eric Effiong in Netflix's 'Sex Education' or perhaps as the next incarnation of the legendary Time Lord, but Ncuti Gatwa is aslo a proud Scot, with his performing roots deeply embedded in Edinburgh, Glasgow and Fife.

'My Dad was studying at Edinburgh University so I grew up in Black Avenue, which was like accommodation for international families because we had just come from Rwanda.' But it was a move to Fife at the age of 14 that started Gatwa's love affair with performing. 'My drama teacher at Dunfermline High School was like, you really. need to consider going to the Royal Conservatoire. And she gave me David Tennant's Hamlet and said "watch this. This is an actor." I was like "oh my God".' What, then, could more full circle than him stepping into his shoes at the next Doctor Who? 

In September, the BBC broke the news that Gatwa would be taking on this iconic role, making him the first ever Black actor (and fourth Scot) to do so in the shows' 59-year history. 'I've known since about February so it's been tricky keeping this under wraps: I have a very big mouth!' he said on the red carpet folowing the announcement. 'But it's a true honour. This role is an insitution. It means a lot to so many people, including myself. It makes everyone feel seen as well.'

Reflecting on the casting process, Gatwa recalls 'prepping for the role of the Doctor and watching all the episodes again and watching Russell T Davies and David [Tennant]'s work. I was overcome with the need to get the job! I was like "I want to work with Russel". His writing is so clever. I just feel very honoured that he saw something in me that he likes. He's going to take me to the universe, around the stars and galaxies.'

Gatwa may be over the moon now, but the road to get here was rough. While relentlessly attending auditions in London, Gatwa found hmself homeless for several months before one booking would change his life forever. 'It was turbulent, you know? But I feel so grateful that Sex Education came into my life.' A month after its release in 2019, the first season had been streamed over 40 million times, shooting its stars to international fame overnight. 'In this streaming age, a show drops across 150 countries in a second so it took a long time to figure out what the hell was going on in my life. I'd be in Tesco and someone would ask for a selfie and I'd have no idea why!' 

Three seasons in, he still has a lot of love for Sex Education and Eric, a character he's lifted with side-splitting one-liners such as 'you detty pig'. But how does he find returning to Moordale High? 'Playing a teenager, especially as a 30-year-old man, is getting trickier as the days go on, let me tell you,' he cackles. 'But it's lovely to return to that cast. They are like my children.' 

Among these co-stars is Emma Mackey who will appear alongside Gatwa in Greta Gerwig's upcoming Barbie. 'I remember the casting director telling me "Greta's seen your tape and she really likes it". Well, that wasn't good enough', he deadpans. 'No stone must be left unturned! So I did about tne other takes and like "SEND THEM ALL TO GRETA!" His tenacity paid off and he now describes Gerwig as 'a creative kindred spirit'. 

Gatwa finds himself on the brink of A-list stardom, his strong grasp of what's important shows grace and conviction. 'It's just about learning to be really grateful,' he insists. 'And also to take the work seriously but not yourself seriously. It's an amazing job that we get to do but it is just a job. I'm slowly learning how to take it in my stride.'

[vitusxaydin]

Another agonized wince, as Leyla sliced deeper. But she said it without anger this time. Just laid the truth at his feet, left it there for him to take back, because it wasn't hers anymore and never would be again. And she was right; he'd done his damage. He'd done it over and over, winding lovers and friends around his hands and then spinning them loose repeatedly. Never with the intent to harm, but what difference did it make when harm was all he seemed to be capable of sometimes? Too choked to answer her question directly, Vitus let the remorse in his expression be his response.

And as she spoke of her business, the quaint atmosphere she'd cultivated for herself, Vitus's empathy leaked into his eyes. He tried to rein it in without much success. "That's fantastic, Leyla. Nobody deserves it more than you," he said, and he meant it. Because he remembered how hard she worked for it. How her constant battle for control had left her bone-brittle and frail, on the brink of fracture between his arms.

He did know what it was like, to go to bed happy and have his life turned upside down in the matter of a single day. He'd fallen asleep that fateful November in 2005 as a son, a love-drunk kid, a boyfriend. By the end of the next night, he'd been reduced to a barren street corner and a duffle bag that smelled like a home he no longer had. But he'd never told her that. Vitus had told her about his parents and his homelessness, of course; hers had been the arms he'd retreated to when he finally got that phone call from his mother, saying she wanted to reconnect. But Leyla had only poked around the edges of his wounds, never seen what they looked like when they were bloody and raw. He almost never shared his hurt with anyone back then. And he wouldn't share it with her now. Couldn't, not when he'd already forced her to hold far too much of it when he abruptly exited her life.

"I know. And you're right to. Hate me, I mean." It stung to admit that, especially as he continued picking through the rubble of their short-lived time together. "But it wasn't... Leyla," he sighed, as if exhaling her name could help alleviate some of the weight that had settled over his torso, threatening to cave his ribs in. "It wasn't because you weren't enough. It was never that. It was about me. It's always me." She hadn't believed him back then, and he had no idea if she would believe him now. The animal caged in his chest howled, screamed, wailed for something just out of reach. Vitus wanted to let it out, wanted to show it to her. As it was, he just sighed again and raked his hands through his hair. The ocean breeze almost swallowed his voice as he added, "I know I don't have any right to ask, but are you okay? I mean, have you been... how are you doing, these days?"

She wanted more for him, same as she wanted from him. It was six months ten years ago, and she could still remember every bit of it. If she let it, her mind would trick her into believing he was safe again. That was the thing about Vitus, though. She would push him, say things that would piss off any other person, and he'd only acknowledge it in his own quiet, self-destructive way. Sometimes, she almost wished he wasn't sorry because it would make the truth so much easier to bear.

But he was. It just didn't take it away: the pain, the anger, the feeling that if she'd been somebody else it wouldn't have happened. She wasn't the first, though, and by the looks of his face, not the last. He left a wake behind him, and that's what she fought against. It's why she couldn't forgive him. "So you've already done your damage, haven't you?" She asked, venom draining momentarily from her words. She almost wanted the anger back, then she wouldn't feel so...sad.

Once upon a time, he'd have held her when she felt this way and all the broken pieces would have just slid right back into place. Like a puzzle. But that's all it was...a Once Upon a Time, a fairytale, a happily ever after that never gets finished. The book just closes on all the unanswered questions. "Yeah," she muttered, "it's a safe place. The kind of place I wanted growing up--the kind of place we would have benefitted from. Where people are kind, know you, accept you...it's warm." It wasn't a reflection of her, thank goodness, but it was the dream. It was the little girl she'd been once. It was for her.

How did he do that? Even when she hated him, she told him things. "Listen, I know I said some things last we talked that I--I shouldn't have said," in the closest thing to an apology he would get, "but you broke me. Do you know what it's like to go to bed one night the happiest you've ever been in your life and the next day, it's...gone? Trust doesn't grow back the same when it's ripped from you, the innocent, naive belief that the person who loves you can't possibly hurt you--would be absolutely incapable of it--it doesn't come back. And whether I get hit by a bus tomorrow or live past 100, I think I'll hate you forever for that. For saying you loved me and all the ways that wasn't enough--for making me believe that meant I wasn't enough."

[dimdiamond]

Bagginshield fic list

Yeah, I decided to make one too because there are enough to cause me headaches and I'd like to have them somewhere organized. Please look at the tags before reading them!

Fix-it fics

Desperate magic by BeautifulFiction: Bilbo is left to tend Thorin as he hovers on the brink of death after the Battle of the Five Armies. Is love enough to save Erebor's king, or is this the last farewell?

Lay your troubles down by Avelera: An extended version of "the acorn scene." Bilbo sees his chance to snap Thorin out of his madness, and takes it.

The Riven Crown by BeautifulFiction: The aftermath of war is no laughing matter. Those who died must be honoured, those who are wounded must be healed, and those who remain need food and clothing, peace and sanctuary. With Thorin's life hanging in the balance, it is up to Bilbo and the rest of the Company to rule the rag-tag remnants of Erebor in his place. Then there is the matter of the gold... Can Bilbo save both king and kingdom, or is Erebor destined to fall deeper into ruin?

The Color of Possibility by lindoreda: When Bilbo puts himself between Thorin and Azog's blade, his mithril shirt protecting them both, it isn't long before some dwarves whisper that 'Oakenshield' might not be the best epithet for their king anymore. But for Bilbo, barred from Thorin's sight since the battle, this new epithet only adds to the sting. Spending his days caring for the recovering princes, Bilbo wonders how much more of this he can take, not suspecting his place at the center of a silent divide in the company.

Homesick by Margo_Kim: Five years after they've reclaimed Erebor, Thorin is sick of home, Bilbo is just sick, and neither is handling the situation ideally.

The Road Delivered Us Home by keelywolfe: In the years since Bilbo left Erebor, he has lost his respectability, gained a nephew, and gotten on with life at Bag End. He'd left aside adventure for the comforts and peace of his little Hobbit hole, and for the love of a child who needed him. Though perhaps, adventures can yet find him.

Notices in the Paper by YamBits: Bilbo returns to the Shire after his adventure, newly married, and newly homeless, after his two year absence allowed the Sackville-Bagginses to obtain Bag End. Bilbo and Thorin go to the Tooks for help, and find newly orphaned Frodo Baggins, also looking for a home.

A Royal Guardianship by ladyoakenshields: When Bilbo and Thorin return to the Shire for a sabbatical during Yuletide, they find a reason to retire the throne in Erebor sooner than expected.

The Shire's gems by awkwarng3: Thorin, Bilbo, and Frodo move to the Shire after raising Frodo in Erebor, and Frodo makes a friend.

Time travel fix-it fics

An expected journey by MarieJacquelyn: For years Bilbo has written about his adventures and told stories about his dealings with dwarves and dragons. To most it seemed like fanciful nonsense but to Bilbo it was all very real. A weight followed him home from his travels, one called regret. Now in his final moments Bilbo has a choice to make – go quietly into death’s embrace or go back again and face all the fear and pain for the chance to make things right? Of course, change is a fickle thing and not everything can be done again as Bilbo is about to find out. In the end, it may not only be salvation that he’s fighting for.

Bilbo Baggins, warrior of the Valar by Pallalalo: Bilbo raised his eyebrows. “And you’ve come to the Shire to look for this someone? My, Gandalf, I wonder if you know Hobbits at all. They would tell you that adventures are nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things. That they would make you late for dinner.” Bilbo recalled his own words perfectly. It had been something he and Gandalf had looked back on with bittersweet laughter. This Gandalf however noticed his exact words. “Would they now? And what about you, mhm? What would you tell me about adventures?” #The Valar send Bilbo back in time, to the day where Gandalf asks him to join in an adventure. After living a lifetime of regret and suffering, he vows to change things for the better. For Thorin. For Frodo. But will he succeed?

I'll die to care for you by thehufflepuffhobbit: His gaze landed on Mahal's eyes once more. "You did your best, Thorin." It was tempting to look away; he wanted to deny that with everything he had. It certainly didn't feel as though falling into Gold Sickness and then dying was doing his best. Mahal smirked, as though he knew Thorin's desire to contradict him, and pinched his cheek before walking over to a table. "Aye, I didn't think you would believe me. I'm not lying, it certainly could have gone better. More according to my plan, but I know you really did try." "Your plan?" He didn't know if he should ask, really. Knowing that his Maker had set a course for him, he didn't want to think about the ways he had done everything wrong. There were too many examples of mistakes in his long life, too many opportunities that he had missed that had probably been planned for him from the beginning. Or:Mahal feels like Thorin fucked up his legacy and gives him a do over.

Darker times ahead by Reach4theSky: Bilbo is sailing to the Undying Lands but wary of letting go of the guilt that has been with him for many decade. His most sincerest wish is to go back and change what was done. Before reaching the lands of peace and healing, he dies aboard the ship and finds that his wish is being granted, not because he is the one to wish it but because this is the dwarves last chance to escape a fate of eternal waiting. He finds that not only is he going to be sent back to his younger body, but so is the entire Company of Thorin Oakenshield. Time is a fickle thing and not all the members have their memories returned to them at the same time. The journey on becomes interesting as the dwarves slowly remember and fight for themselves and their kin, yet new hurdles are thrown at them when they realize that more people remember than expected...

Of an arcane binding by Salvia_G: An inexplicable magic ties Bilbo Baggins, hobbit of the Shire, to Thorin, dwarven prince of Erebor.

Legends by DomesticGoddess: The fellowship has set out on its noble quest to destroy the ring and put an end to the threat that is Sauron! Just set out really, barely left the gates of Imladris, but things are going smoothly enough so far. That is until the two most unlikely party crashers fall upon their little fellowship. Uncle Bilbo and the Legendary Thorin Oakenshield?! Frodo just wants to know what's going on but the two of them won't stop hollering at each other long enough for anyone to get a word in edgewise. Suddenly, their little group is joined by Frodo's two biggest heroes and he discovers there was a lot more to Uncle Bilbo's stories than he realized.

Beside myself by bliboboggins: "What are you doing? Just who do you think you are?" Startled, Bilbo turned around slowly. And there, in a familiar patchwork dressing gown, brandishing a fire poker wildly about, was... Bilbo.

Erebor never fell au fics

The hearth doesn't make the home by Moonrose91: For things Bilbo could not change, he was condemned to a life of isolation, with the belief that none could love him. And then a Dwarf came to Hobbiton.

Clarity of vision by Mithen: In a Middle-Earth where Erebor never fell, a shadow remains in the heart of the Lonely Mountain. Bilbo Baggins finds himself drawn reluctantly into a quest that will lead him across the continent--from Bree to Lake Evendim to the icy North and beyond--with a party of five dwarves searching for an artifact that will cure the ailing King Thrór.

Ghivashel by mdseiran: The last thing Bilbo expects when he stays up late one night is company. The strange dwarf and his companion crash into his life and prove unexpected saviours. But the dwarf seems to think he will be joining them on their travels, and Bilbo has no such intentions.

The Song of My Heart by DomesticGoddess: After a failed attempt of trying to carve out a new home in the Blue Mountains for his people, Thorin finds himself beseeching the Hobbit Thain and his council for a place for his people in their bountiful land. An agreement is struck and plans in the works for integrating his people into their land. The only condition being an arranged marriage between himself and one of their family heads. A small price to pay to see his people safe and well fed. Unfortunately, he’s to marry the most disagreeable hobbit in all the Shire who also seems to hold a personal grudge against him. If only he could figure out why his new betrothed hates him so much.

Oak and Mistletoe by HildyJ: After a life dominated by a strange form of sickness, Thorin is sent to the Shire to seek a cure only Bilbo Baggins can offer.

Karkûn shukula - A Cinderella AU by harrypanther: When the Prince of the Shire visits the Kingdom of Erebor, there is great excitement. There are hopes he will choose to marry one of the Royal Family, cementing an alliance that would secure food supplies for the dwarven Kingdom and gain new allies. All eligible dwarves are expected to attend a series of Balls. Unknown to the guests, there is a third royal child, manoeuvred out by his ambitious stepmother, for whom this may be his last chance of restoring his fortunes and escaping his fate…

Alone this Yuletide by Emsiecat: 'Alone this Yuletide? Irritated with prying and nosey family members? I am an out of work blacksmith currently trying to make my way by any means necessary that does not involve my resorting to thievery (prisons are most uncomfortable, I've unfortunate first hand experience). However, if you would like me to be your strictly platonic companion for any social function, but have me pretend that we are in a serious courtship, so as to torment your family and ward off unwanted suitors then I am more than obliging...' After becoming increasingly irritated by overtures of romance from various Shire residents following the death of his mother four years ago, Bilbo is more than ready to resort to desperate measures. That is, up to and including pretending to be in a serious relationship with a certain surly blacksmith currently inhabiting the Bindbale Woods. It's a good idea after all; all they have to do is pretend to be in love over the Yuletide period and Bilbo's family and suitors will surely leave him alone after that. It's perfect! And nothing can possibly go wrong, right? Certainly nothing as preposterous as falling for one another for real...

Modern au fics

Nothing gold can stay by perkynurples: Bilbo Baggins led a rather peaceful life, thank you very much, until an old acquaintance decided to turn it upside down, and he found himself agreeing to take a job that’s… let’s say not exactly up his alley, and might eventually cost him a little more than his treasured cozy lifestyle. Who would have thought tutoring a slightly menacing monarch’s more than slightly overbearing nephew could prove to be such an adventure?

Love-In-Idleness by perkynurples: Taking Bilbo Baggins, a successful movie actor who is only just getting used to the perks and intricacies of becoming A Face People Want To See, and putting him together with Thorin Oakenshield, with his very traditional (read: slightly backwards) ideas about what constitutes Real Art and Real Talent, might very well be viewed as just some clothead’s idea of a joke. But there are jokes, and then there are carefully calculated risks the size of controversial reproductions of classic Shakespearean plays - for Bilbo, it is the chance of a lifetime to prove himself to all those who have ever deemed him too one-dimensional to even attempt stage, while Thorin has the opportunity to get out of the rut that’s been hindering his career for so long now, and shine in a role worthy of his talent once again. That is if the two learn how to share the same space for more than ten minutes without wanting to tear each other’s hair out. The course of true love never did run smooth, after all…

Candid by northerntrash: Thorin wasn't entirely sure why there was a six-foot candid photograph of him hanging in this exhibition, but he was going to wring the neck of whoever had put it there. In which Bilbo is a photographer, Thorin an accidental model, and Gandalf just likes to make trouble for everyone.

How the west was won and where it got us by stickman: Bilbo is a harried 1st year British literature Ph.D. (early 20th century fiction) who happens to have an interest in spatial narrative structures, a lack of time-management skills, and a tiny apartment with a lot of books and very little furniture. He’s stressed, always, and doesn't quite know where he belongs. He tells himself that really, this is, in fact, what he wants to be doing. But sometimes, as much as he loves books, he gets an urge to do something with his hands. Thorin is a disgruntled M.Arch. 1 in his last year who can’t be arsed to shave and frightens his students, and, frankly, his profs, but his work is top-notch so no one can really say much. They can, however, bully him into running a hands-on design workshop on Saturday mornings, which is complete crap, because he’s used to drinking his Friday nights into oblivion so showing up at Milstein at 7:45 the next morning and trying to teach in a room of wall-to-wall windows as the sun rises is not at the top of his list. Besides, no one ever shows up. Except one morning, someone does. [graduate school AU]

Butterfly effect by eyra: Yoga wasn’t for him. Yoga was for interesting people. Luminous people; people who took gap years and spoke a foreign language. People who ate lentils and burned incense and had fantastic, colourful friends with fantastic, colourful lives full of travel and silent retreats and those baggy trousers with elephants on them. Yoga was decidedly not for people like Bilbo, who wore cardigans and ate beans on toast and whose linguistic capabilities stretched only as far as a rusty Spanish A-Level. Just your regular story of boy meets yoga instructor.

Remover of the obstacles by MistakenMagic: "Dis often chided her older brother for being a misanthropist. She did it so often it had become a term of endearment. It was true that Thorin struggled with people; he struggled to form and maintain relationships. Dr. Grey had diagnosed him with this and Thorin hadn’t the heart to tell him this wasn’t a symptom of his PTSD, it was a symptom of his personality. He exercised a sense of apathy with almost everyone he met… But Bilbo was different. Thorin actually found himself wanting to know more about him."

Color outside the lines by andquitefrankly: Kindergarten has just gotten significantly better. Just ask Thorin, who's got the biggest crush on the new kid in class, Bilbo Baggins. With the help of his friends, Thorin knows that he can take back the swings from the 1st graders, show up the K-1 class in the school pageant, and win the heart of one curly haired boy. Yup. Kindergarten is going to be a year to remember.

Bran' New Suit by pibroch (littleblackdog): Andrew's description had been sufficient to recognize him— a riot of honey brown curls, short in stature, a well-favoured face with expressive features— but it hadn't quite been enough to prepare Tom for the sharp, almost painful tug in his gut at the sight of the man. They had never met before, to the best of Tom's recollection, but there was something eerily and inexplicably familiar about him all the same.

Different species au fics

I've grown a hedge around my heart by pibroch (littleblackdog): "Thorin was the essence of so many Buckland oddities, distilled into one misfortunate young hobbit, much to his infinite embarrassment. Built like a stork, his father had said once, in an example of Thrain Brandybuck’s usual tactless humour. All beak and legs." Thorin Brandybuck, just recently come of age, still lives in his family’s smial in Buckland, with his parents and two younger siblings. Thorin is an odd duck amongst his relations and neighbours-- unsociable, grumpy, shy, and awkward. And beyond that, he looks rather strange even for a Bucklander, strongly favouring the thick, dark haired build of his Stoorish blood. It defies all sense and reason why Bilbo Baggins, an exemplar of all the respectable traits Thorin lacked, would ever desire a friendship with him. Bilbo, as Thorin discovers, is not always as sensible as he appears.

In which the dwarves are satyrs for reasons by HiddenKitty What the title says basically.

Bride of the demon king by DomesticGoddess: Thorin is King of the demons, a beast-like race feared by humans. Ever since the demons and humans formed a truce years ago, the humans have sent a young human every year as a tribute to the King of demons. Thorin is tired of having to deal with the tribute that has long since lost its meaning. The only tribute he'd be interested in is the boy he met fifteen years ago on the border of the demon and human realms. Despite his fantasies, Thorin knows the chances of ever seeing the boy again are slim to none, until they're not.

Lost He Wandered Under Leaves by serenbach: Thorin son of Thrain is a struggling blacksmith descended from a fallen line of kings. In an attempt to provide for his family over the winter, he reluctantly accepts an impossible sounding task - to hunt down an enchanted deer that lives in the Old Forest that borders the Shire, and make armour and weapons from its hide and antlers. He never expected to succeed. And he certainly never expected what he found to change his life so completely.

A Dryad's Tale by Bilbo Baggins by Moongazer12: Bilbo is a dryad (think little sibling to ents). Long ago a curse was placed upon him from destroying one of the rings of power. Whenever he touches someone with his bare skin he will make them insane. But despite this, he and Gandalf have gone on many adventures to help protect Middle Earth (What was the point to destroying the ring if something else destroyed it instead?) Gandalf has called on him once again to help on a quest, Bilbo just hopes that they read his amendments to the contract.

The quest but with a twist au fics

King, come at the red morning by Tawabids: Bilbo has heard fairytales of the lost prince of the dwarves, Thorin son of Thrain, who disappeared the day Smaug attacked the Lonely Mountain. But he does not believe in fairytales until he comes across the dwarf sleeping in the depths of Erebor, and kisses him back to life. Now Thorin - a hundred and fifty years out of his time - has to confront a world in which his city is empty, his people scattered, his baby brother Frerin is king, two nephews he's never met are missing in action, and a war is brewing right on his doorstep. And as if that wasn't complicated enough he's trapped in the body of an old man and falling stupidly in love with a gossipy, grudging little hobbit.

When the sun rises by Harry1981: Bilbo Baggins of Bag End was not a very respectable Hobbit. No respectable Hobbit had a sword and crossbow hanging in their home, nor did they have Dwarves as family. But Bilbo Baggins did, and all of Shire knew of his husband, blacksmith Thorin Oakenshield. When Bilbo comes home to find his Husband earlier than expected, he learns of a quest to reclaim Erebor. It is a death mission. Bilbo knows that Dwarves are stubborn creatures, and none more than Thorin himself. But nobody said that Bilbo himself was any less stubborn. So he will follow his dearest husband across all of Middle Earth, through plains and mountains and forests, all while hiding the true nature of their relationship (Dwarven politics never helped anyone), brushing off some old wounds (and getting new ones) and finding out new things about the dwarf Bilbo calls husband (and his extended family). Nobody ever said love was easy, after all.

Small, but fierce by DomesticGoddess: As a result of a magical mishap during the trip to the lonely mountain, Bilbo is reverted to a wee little hobbitling. Only in body, of course. His adult mind is still very aware of the indignity of it all (seriously! He doesn't need to be coddled, carried, and fed like a child). It turns out, dwarves love children and there is nothing cuter than Hobbit children. Bilbo soon realizes that he can get away with just about anything in his babyish form and starts taking full advantage of it. Even the grumpy brooding king can't deny the angelic little creature anything he desires (and Bilbo's going to milk that for all it's worth).

Your song like a home in my heart by Nennvial: In Middle Earth, all creatures have a soulmate. Not all have some, but if they do, it is a bond nothing can break, not even death. The more famous story of such a bound was the story of Bren and Luthien, who even defied detath. The way someone can find out that the other is one’s soulmate is through song: when they meet and hear the voice of the other, a song sings in their heart, which feels like home and makes them complete. They may refuse it if they wish to do so, but they hence risk a life of bitter looniness. Thorin Oakenshield and Bilbo Baggins are soulmates, but they must admit it to themselves throughout their journey to Erebor.

To Dungeons Deep (And Caverns Old) by KingUndertheMountain: Bilbo Baggins was not your average hobbit. Of course, he had the wonderfully groomed and well-taken-care-of hairy feet like every other one of his race, yes, but he was not like other hobbits. He was cursed. Or, as the witch who gave him the enchantment put it, was “gifted”. She had given him the “gift” of obedience – whenever there was a direct command given to him, for example “cook a large meal” or “take a walk”, he could not disobey. Not without a lot of pain and eventual submission.

Chocolate candy one-shots

The world is sleeping (my world is you) by katheneverwrites (mandolinearts): I asked Persephone, “How could you grow to love him? He took you from flowers to a kingdom where not a single living thing can grow.” Persephone smiled, “My darling, every flower on your earth withers. What Hades gave me was a crown made for the immortal flowers in my bones.” - Nikita Gill ---“What do you mean, my friend?” There is a line of thought that surfaces in Gandalf’s mind, but he drowns it before it can take root. Surely not. But Bilbo’s chuckle sets him on edge. The small, gentle god of harvest, nature, and flowers sits up straighter, and in his crown of flowers there is a wire of strong metal, his cloak is suddenly not colorful anymore but the deepest black and he is terrifying, horrific, powerful - “I married Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the World.”

Of seasons by northerntrash: As far as he could tell, he had been kidnapped, which in itself made this week more than a little unusual. In which Bilbo steals away the Lord of Death, and Thorin can't quite bring himself to stay angry about it.

Warm up by paranoid_fridge: On one of their walks, Bilbo tumbles into a stream. They make it back to Bag End and Bilbo demands Thorin warm him up.

Royal Blue And Crimson Red by Mistofstars: Here's what happened before and after Bilbo accidentally eavesdrops on Gandalf and Elrond at night in Rivendell, as they discuss Thorin's quest and his family's history. Oh, and Thorin and Bilbo share a room, of course ;)

I was young when I left home by Margo_Kim: There was a pity clapper somewhere in the third row. Thorin finished his fourth song to polite applause from the people who noticed that the song was finished, but within the smattering of claps was someone beating his hands together like he was trying to rhythmically kill a fly. There was usually one of those, the kind who notices that no one else is paying attention and so is determined to compensate for that regardless of how they feel about the actual music. Thorin ignored him. It was easy to do so—he'd always hated looking at the audience when the singing was done.

A matter of buttons by StupidFatPenguin: “Your shirt,” says Thorin, quite out of the blue, and Bilbo looks down his front to see if there is a spot of tea or jam or anything equally embarrassing spilled on it. He is relieved to find nothing of the sort and looks up at the dwarf with an eyebrow raised in question. Thorin sits mute, his still-smoking pipe forgotten in his hand. He looks on for long moments still, seems almost lost to a thought before he shifts and lifts his gaze to meet Bilbo’s inquiring face. “It is familiar to me. Did you not wear this on the eve we met?” In which Bilbo and Thorin re-enact the evening they met.

The ladder by Milliethekitty27: Inspired from a post made by wheeloffortune-design on tumblr. Tired of his lonely kitchen in Yavanna's Garden, Bilbo Baggins wonders if the dwarven love of being underground is true in death. If so, maybe his dwarves are living (ha ha) under the very land Bilbo is weeding. With that thought, Bilbo goes and asks Hamfast for a shovel.

Love hobbit by HybridOwl: Bilbo Baggins considers himself a bit of a cock up, all things considered. He never made it out of his small highway adjacent town, can't seem to stop chain-smoking, and overall has more to talk about with the plants in his shop than 90% of all the rest of Middle Earth. So when he's reading the morning paper and a love note that can't be for anyone but him pops up, he's pretty sure - almost positive, really - that he's being made fun of. "TO the chain-smoking little stud who collects two metros from Gamgee's Goods every morning, will you be my love hobbit? - Bearded Biker." (heavily inspired by tumblr posts)

Fusion with other fandoms au fics

The Second Time by authoressjean; Sebastian Moran can't pull the trigger on John Watson to save his own hide, and what the hell is it with the doctor, anyway? Then Gandalf shows up, meddlesome wizard, and reminds him none too gently of his past life: as Thorin Oakenshield, leader of a company that had once included a small hobbit named Bilbo Baggins. One that looked decidedly like John Watson. And this would be the perfect chance to make things right with Bilbo the way he really hadn't been able to before he died, and that's when Gandalf tells him John doesn't remember being Bilbo, and to leave him alone. Right. Like that's going to happen.

And sow a star divided in us by MistakenMagic: Short summary: Gays in space! Longer summary: After his first successful solo mission, Jedi Knight Bilbo Baggins, trained by High Council member and full-time nuisance, Master Gandalf, returns to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. During an excursion to the sparring arena, he meets a group of Dwarven Jedi from Ered Luin, a mountainous planet located in the Outer Rim. Young padawans, Fili and Kili, are full of curiosity at this strange, barefoot Jedi, but Master Thorin, who appears to have the personality of a rancor and mental shields like blast doors, is less than impressed.

Comics you should definitely check

Every work by rutobuka, seriously they're criminally cute and they're not still favored by everyone without reason.

Retelling the Hobbit by Mellow_Comics: Bilbo has never been good at telling the "true" story of what happened on his journey to the Lonely Mountain. Now he's trying to turn the tale of his quest into a lighthearted children's book-- a bedtime story for his young nephew Frodo. But what really happened on his journey? And how did it actually affect him? This is a comic adaptation/retelling of the Hobbit! It's framed as a bedtime story that Bilbo is telling a younger Frodo.

For now these are some of my personal favourites! However, I'm sure my list will grow since my reading list has some gems still waiting for me to read, so be certain that there will be a part 2 of this list!

[levis-hazelnut]

Levi x Reader Smile For Me

Summary: you were found curled up outside HQ, basically on the brink of death. However, Levi finds you and takes you to the infirmary. To his surprise, Erwin enlists you as a scout.

Levi's POV "Levi, where's your squad?" Commander Eyebro-- I mean, Erwin asked. "I don't know. Probably picking each other's noses or some sh*t like that." "Go get them. We need to go get supplies." I sighed, walking away to look for my squad of idiots, who I didn't want to bring along since they would just mess around. I went into the castle, hearing loud chatter and laughter so I went towards the source. Opening the door to the mess hall, I find them sitting around a table. "What the hell are you guys doing? I told you to be at the stables after breakfast." "We were playing truth or dare." "Get your a*ses outside." They all followed me in silence; I'm guessing it was because they didn't want to irritate me any further. All of us got on our horses, me and Erwin at the front, and we were about to leave until we saw something the size of a human scrunched up in a ball. I jumped off of my horse and crouched down as I frowned. I scrunched my nose up in disgust, brushing the unruly hair from their face and I saw (E/C) eyes half-open, staring up at me. I was able to see the bones under her skin on her face, arms and legs, while the rest of her body was covered by a scruffy dress. She looked as if she was on the brink of death, pale and weak, and she seemed to have trouble to breathe. I didn't think she would be able to walk in this state, or maybe even stay alive for a few more days. 

When I stood up and looked at Erwin, he had just leapt off from his horse and neared me.

"What's wrong?" "This girl looks like she's going to die anytime soon." "Let's take her to the infirmary." I nodded and went back to the girl, crouching down again and scooping her up to carry her to the infirmary, which wasn't far. I asked them to take my horse back to the stables before they left to get supplies without me. Normal POV You laid on the most comfortable bed you've ever been on. Out of a window, you could see the bright, azure blanket illuminated by the radiant sun.

Before you had slept, for however long, you weren't able to breathe properly but now you were able to with ease. Though you felt a lot better than before, your stomach was still growling for some food. You brushed your hand over your stomach, feeling the soft and clean clothes you had on your body. The door opened, making your eyes to flit there and you gripped the pristine sheets, terrified to find someone walking in. He had blonde hair, blue orbs that radiated a warmth that made you feel comfortable. He gave you a smile and approached you. You've never seen him before, but he's acting so casually around you. "Do you feel better?" You stayed silent, not wanting to talk to this mysterious man even though he seems benign. "I'm guessing you're hungry after sleeping for two days." He passed you a tray of food, your eyes beaming at the amount there was. Almost immediately, you picked up the spoon and popped a bit of food into your mouth. "Do you like it?" he asked to which you shyly nodded. "One of my men made it. And I don't think he'll make it again, so you're lucky." "Thank you..." you trailed off, wanting to know his name. "Erwin." "Thank you, Erwin," you said quietly. "If you can move, there's a room for you. I'm going to let you stay here and enlist you as a scout." As you listened to what he was saying, you scoffed the food down. You had a bit of food on the corner of your mouth which Erwin wiped with a tissue as he subconsciously smiled. "What's your name?" "...I don't have one..." You stopped eating and kept your eyes on the plate. "Where's your family?" "I don't know..." The blonde had a slight crease in between his eyebrows before he asked another question. "Do you have a home?" "No." "Well, you can call this place home now," he grinned, trying to get a smile on your face, but it didn't work. "If you have any questions or uncertainties about anything, come to me." You gave a mere nod as he got up to leave, taking the tray from your lap since it appeared as if you weren't that hungry anymore.

No place has felt like a home to you, but this place does, you felt so comfortable. After a while of staring into space, a knock on the door snapped you out of your trance. A man you recognised came in, but you couldn't remember where you've seen him. "How are you feeling?" Silence. "So, you're just going to ignore the person that rescued you from death?" His tone had a bite to it, however, you seemed unfazed by his sharp character. That's where you saw him; he was the one who picked you up and brought you here before you would slowly die away. His grey orbs before were pooled with concern then, but now, they hold no emotion whatsoever. He took slow steps towards your bed. "Thank you for saving me. I'm in your debt." "Tch. I didn't save you so I could have something in return." He crossed his arms. "Anyway, Erwin asked me to take you to your room." Slowly getting up, you noticed that you weren't feeling weak anymore and you were able to stand properly without feeling dizzy. Your bare feet padded against the floor, following the raven whose name you have yet to learn. Catching up to him, you walked beside him as you fiddled with your fingers. "Why are you nervous?" he suddenly questioned. You slightly shrugged as a small blush crawled onto your cheeks. "You aren't much of a talker, are you? Well, that's a good thing because I don't want another brat giving me a headache." Brat? He's being harsh with the person he saved and someone he barely knows, and he thinks he can call you a brat? Whatever, it's not like you're going to stand up for yourself. And it’s not the worst treatment that you’ve been given. "When we get to your room, have a shower. You smell like sh*t." You understand that you would stink and you aren't in the cleanest state, but does he have to be so critical? Upon reaching your room, he fished a key out of his pocket to unlock the door, allowing you to step inside as he passed you the key, which you took from his hand, your fingers skimming his which he clicked his tongue to. "Be ready in eight minutes. I'm taking you to Erwin's office." And with that, he left. Why was he so specific about the time? ~/~ "Do you have any experience with fighting?" You shook your head meekly as you sat on a chair on the other side of Erwin's desk, fidgeting with your hands which were slightly damp with sweat. You've never seen these people until two days ago, or even an hour ago, so you were afraid of these new people. Can you trust them? "What were you doing before you stumbled across this place?" "I-I was homeless. I w-would eat the leftovers of what people threw out and people b-beat me up for no reason. I wasn't able to make any friends and I n-never knew my family. I d-d-don't even know my name." Erwin stood up with an expression of sympathy and went towards you, crouching by your chair and whispered, "You don't need to be frightened here. None of us will beat you up and you will have your own room. You won't need to eat leftovers. Don't worry. You're safe here." Not able to hold back anymore, he hugged you, leaving you and the other male in the room in surprise. "And I'll give you a name." After being in thought, he spoke, "... How about (Y/N)? Do you like it?" "Yes," you replied, almost as if you mouthed the word. "(Y/N) it is. And I don't know if you already know or not, but this is Levi. You can trust us if you don't trust anyone else." He stood back up. You nodded, getting up to leave. "And whenever you're ready to start training, let me know." "Can I start tomorrow?" "... Sure. But don't you think it's a bit too soon. You just recovered from a severe illness." "It's fine." "If that's what you want." You left his office, gently closing the door behind you as you made your way back to your room. "Erwin?" Levi uttered. "Yes?" "Why are you being so gentle with that girl? This isn't a f*cking fairytale where she gets pampered by you. This is a military base, Erwin. She's a freeloader with you treating her like that. No one here takes it easy." "That's enough, Levi. I'm not going to let her take it easy, all my soldiers are treated the same way." "Explain the way you hugged her then." "I was simply comforting her. And I don't why you're complaining, you're the one who brought her here." "It was just so she could be brought back to health. I didn't think you would enlist her as a scout. She has no experience with fighting. What potential does she have?" "A lot. You are dismissed, Levi." Levi clicked his tongue and exited the office. He didn't want another brat to look out for. He just hoped that Erwin would be in command of you instead of him. You better not cause any trouble for him. ~/~ You thrust your fist forward, attempting to punch Erwin but you never liked hurting people so it was a light blow. He let out a light chuckle, shaking his head. "(Y/N), don't be scared to punch me. This is part of your training." You went into an awkward fighting stance which he fixed for you, telling you what to do. You got ready to punch him again and this time, it was stronger but he could tell you weren't putting all your strength into it. "Again." You took a moment to fix your posture before throwing a surprise punch to his stomach. But unfortunately, he saw it coming and made a cross with his arms, nearly stumbling back but he kept his balance. You lifted your leg, kicking it into his side where he wasn't able to block it. He smirked, seeing how you were able to get a hit on him. "Okay. I'm going to attack you and you need to defend yourself now." You nodded, getting ready for any attacks that would be coming your way. He threw his fist at your jaw, knocking your head back. Straight after, he punched you a couple of times at your stomach, causing you to cough up some spit as you bent down, too weak to stand. "Get up." You got up unsteadily, complying to his order. "Defend yourself." For another hour, you trained with Erwin until you were too exhausted to carry on. By the time you stopped, the sun was setting as a wind blew over you, cooling you down after your training. Your skin was drenched in sweat and stained by mud and dirt which you were going to go wash off. "Same time tomorrow." "Okay." You reached your room, stripping your clothes off your body and stepping into the raining water, steam dispersing from the shower. You scrubbed all the grime from your body and washed out the sweat in your hair before grabbing a towel to dry all the water that remained on your flesh before slipping on a fresh uniform.

After, you went to the mess hall for dinner, getting some food and sitting down on an empty table, silently eating your meal, desiring the food that was specially made for you a few days ago. "Why don't you sit with the others?" You looked up, seeing Erwin holding a plate and a smile on his face. You faced the table again, shaking your head. The blonde sighed and sat down opposite you, joining you for dinner.

Levi looked over at you two, thinking, Why is she so special to Eyebrows? He's acting as if he's her dad or some sh*t like that. Erwin tried to get you to speak but you would only say a few words since you were shy and there wasn't really anything you could talk about - he basically already knows everything about you for your life feels like it didn't even start until you came here.

Apart from Erwin, Levi, and someone else called Hanji, you haven’t spoken to anyone else. She's a bit too energetic for your taste, but she has a friendly nature. And even though you speak to them, it's only a few words like 'yes', 'okay', 'thank you'. You don't speak to them as they would speak to each other. You try to avoid interacting with anyone but Erwin always seems to get you to talk, even if it's one word. ~/~ Pinning Erwin’s arms over his head, you straddled his legs, breathing heavily as you wiped the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand. He smiled, glad to see that you have improved significantly over the past month. You were one of the best scouts he's seen develop and you could maybe even be one of the best scouts in the regiment after you train some more. Now, he can show Levi the potential he saw in you. "Well done, (Y/N)." "Is this what you call training?" a voice inquired to which you looked up to. Blushing, you abruptly got off of Erwin, allowing him to stand up as he dusted off his clothes. You gazed at the ground as the blonde cleared his throat, facing Levi who had his arms crossed over his chest. "I never knew you were the submissive type, Eyebrows." "We were training and I can tell you that (Y/N) is better than you think." "Better at what exactly?" He arched an eyebrow. "Fighting. Stop thinking like that." "Whatever." The raven walked away with the roll of his eyes. "Have a shower and go to the mess hall." "Okay." "And you're training with me is over. I'm going to put you in a squad." You were just getting comfortable with Erwin and now, you're going to have to join a squad of new people you've never even spoken to. Oh, well, it's better than living on the streets. You gave him a nod and strolled back to your room, getting stopped by two young boys, whose names were Eren and Jean. "You've been here for nearly a month weeks, but you haven't spoken to me or anyone else." "Jean, leave her alone." "Why's she so quiet?" "It's a miracle she is," a monotone voice stated from behind you, and you knew who it was. "Both of you, go. Let her go to her room because she needs a shower." Again, he came with the usual criticism. At least, it got those boys to leave you alone as you carried on your journey to your room. ~/~ Over the year, you have become one of the best scouts, joining Levi's squad who had no objection because you still don't talk much and you won't give him a headache like the others. And maybe there's another reason... "Oh, come on, (Y/N)! Take it easy on me!" Eren complained after you had knocked him to the ground with two punches and a kick. You shook your head, putting your jacket on, which you took off to spar with Eren who thought he could beat you after he made a bet with Jean. You went off into the building, getting stopped as soon as you entered. "Cadet Smith," Levi, who was watching you spar, called. (A/N: btw I chose Smith since Erwin took you in as his daughter and you never had a surname before). You turned around and shyly saluted, avoiding eye contact. It could be true that you may have developed feelings for the Corporal over time. He might have been cruel to you at the start, but then he started to be nice to you, well, it's his version of being nice and you think he's only kind to you because Erwin told him to. "I told you that you don't need to salute. Put your arm down." You let your arm hang by your side, still standing there timidly as you could feel his gaze burn into you. When you felt an arm rest around your shoulders, you averted your eyes from the floor, soon realising who it was, relaxing your tensed shoulders. "Is Levi being rude to you again?" Erwin asked. "I was never rude to her," Levi scowled. "You always seemed to frown whenever she was around." "Tch. Why are you here?" "I need to speak to (Y/N)." "I was going to talk to her." "You can in five minutes." Levi clicked his tongue with a roll of his eyes. Why did Erwin have to ruin the opportunity for him to talk to you? All Levi wants to do is hear you say full sentences, see a smile on your face and make you happy because frankly, you aren't/don't do anything of those things and you deserve to be happy, in Levi's opinion. But that blonde man comes in and lets the chance for that to happen slip. Yeah, Erwin may be trying to get you positive as well, but Levi wants to do that before anyone else does. Somehow, it makes him upset to see you gloomy and he wants to fix that. "I'll talk to Erwin first," you softly spoke. Damn, he just wants to hear more of that delicate voice you own. "You like him, don't you?" the Commander whispered once you were out of hearing distance of Levi. "What?" "You like Levi." "W-w-why would I?" "I don't know. I'm not the one who likes him." He ruffled your hair with a smile. "You can tell me anything, I'll keep it between us. "... Yes, I do," you admitted. "Okay. You can go to him now." With a pink hue stained on your face, you made your way to Levi’s office, accidentally stepping sinde without knocking. But he didn't seem to mind when he saw it was you. "Bring me tea," was the only thing he said before dismissing you. You merely nodded, heading for the kitchen as Levi continued with the paperwork. You boiled the water and reached for a mug before pouring it inside the porcelain that had a teabag. You stirred it and let the flavours of the tea infuse the water before picking it up from the surface and went towards his office, meekly knocking on the wooden door. Upon hearing a 'come in', you opened the door and stepped in, closing the door behind you. You placed the cup on his desk, where there was a space free, and stood there silently. "Why are you just standing there? Sit down." Hesitantly, you sat down in the chair opposite him as he took a sip of the tea and you noticed the slight surprise on his visage. "This tea is really good." "Thank you." You blushed and looked down at your hands. He opened a drawer and pulled out a small jar. He took the lid off, showing some cookies that looked appealing to you. "Help yourself. I made them." You were confused; why was he complimenting you? Why was he giving you his homemade cookies? Why was he making small talk which he hates so much? Why is he being so casual? What did he want to talk to you about? What's going on? "Sir?" "Levi," he corrected you. "I already told you that you don't have to address me formally when you're speaking to me alone." "Why are you doing this?" "Tch. Just appreciate that I'm treating you like this." "But why are you?" "..." Silence settled in the room. You didn't want to ask him any more questions since it may infuriate him and he'll probably kick you out, which you don't want to happen. He continued with his work, acting as if he was ignoring your presence. Tch. Why can't I just say it? It's not like she's one of those people who will shun me out of their life. Why do I hesitate? Do I fear rejection? No, of course not. What is it? I just want to see her smile. See a smile enhance her beauty. See her happy. But how the hell is that possible in this world? "(Y/N)Ilikeyou," he confessed quickly and quietly, making it difficult for you to apprehend what he said.     "Sorry?" "Damn it! I like--!" "Shorty!!!" His door slammed open. "What the f*ck do you want?" "Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt your date," the brunette grinned as he rolled his eyes. "It isn't a date," he growled. "What do you want?" "I have some more paperwork for you." This is what you barged in here for, you idiot? "Okay. Get out." "Have fun~!" she creepily smirked and closed the door, leaving you two alone again. "You were saying something...?" you inquired. Levi huffed, running a hand through his charcoal locks. "I've been wanting to tell you that I like you," he muttered. Did you hear him right? "Pardon?" "You heard what I f*cking said." "You... like me?" "Tch. Just get out if you have nothing to say." He never even glanced at you. "... I like you, too," you barely murmured. Slightly surprised, his orbs immediately shot to meet yours. He stood up and tipped your head up with his fingers, placing a kiss on your lips, causing you to become a blushing mess. You could taste the tea he previously had and you had to admit, it did taste pretty good. Levi pulled away and gave you the first smile you've seen. "Can you please smile for me?" he whispered, cupping your cheek and brushing his thumb on your skin. Your eyes fluttered away from his steel ones, now pooling with affection and warmth. He tilted your head so you could look at him again. "A woman like you shouldn't be so downhearted." He pressed his lips against yours again for a more passionate kiss. You lidded your eyes, moulding your lips with his as you felt a smile tug at your lips. Once your lips tore away from his, you were still smiling with gleaming orbs gazing up at him. "Thank you." He leaned his forehead against yours, feeling content to see a smile grace your beautiful features.

[misamccn]

linked - killua zoldyck. 

pairing: killua zoldyck x female reader

chapter word count: 2182

content warnings: violence, blood, child abuse, trauma, anxiety, death, abusive parents. 

summary: soulmate au - seventeen year-old (y/n) has never been free. after 9 years of being locked away with her father who uses her for her nen ability, (y/n) escapes and is on the run. she has big plans to become a hunter and see the world...until she meets her soulmate killua and his friends after discovering that her father is after her and wants to take her back. will she escape her father with the help of killua, gon, and alluka? will she bond with killua, or will they sever their link? 

:: prologue - running to the starting line

You craved control.

For all of your life, you never got to experience any kind of control, except when you were a little girl. Your mom would let you choose things for yourself. Like when you wanted to train, what you wanted to eat, and who you wanted to play with. But one day, she dropped you off to your father's house and she was gone. Murdered in cold blood that same night. Your light, happiness, and control died with her that day too. Gone in an instant. You would never choose another thing for yourself from that moment forward.

Until now.

Your feet, clad in thick black leather combat shoes worn with dirt and time, slapped against the wet pavement as you ran to the bus station. You roughly rubbed your hands against your tear-stained eyes. How could I be so stupid, you thought to yourself as your heart pounded in agony against your chest.

He really fooled you good, didn't he? For a second there, you felt safe. Like someone actually cared and didn't want you for your power.

Giichi...you bastard.

You clenched your fists angrily as you wiped the tears from your eyes. No more tears, I have to keep going or else dad will find me and I'll end up back in that cell.

After your mom died, your dad took you in and decided to make you use your gift as a payment for him taking you in. He took you underground in his base. There were no windows, no light, no color. It was dull and empty. The only things in your cell were a mat with a blanket, a toilet, and chains on the wall that were used to restrain you when you failed him and needed to be punished. You spent nine painful years down there. You spent your time healing your father's gang members and guards when they came back from a fight. The worst nights were the nights where a lot of them got hurt. Healing that many of them at once would almost kill you at some times, but your father never let you stop. He never let you have a break. The pain of it all left you breathless.

You were his tool and your purpose was to fix the people that were destroyed for him and his money.

The most painful part of it all though was probably the loneliness of it all. You didn't get to have any friends, and the only person your age that you knew was this boy that you met on an island a long time ago.

There was also your soulmate, of course.

He was always there, never fully in focus, but lingering in your thoughts. His emotions and feelings often filled your mind when they were strong. You didn't know his name, or what he looked like, but you knew him. Even if it was just a little bit.

You first felt him there the night your mom died.

The thunder and rain pattering against your window drowned out the sound of your sobs as you lay in bed awake that night. You had never felt so alone before. Not only was your mother gone, but her whole clan was gone. The people that she loved so much, and the people that you were just getting to know. Your small hand grasped your pillow tightly as a sob ripped its way through your throat when all of a sudden, you felt it. It was small, but nonetheless present. A soft, unfamiliar warmth lingered in the corner of your mind, almost like it was a little bit timid. It soothed her, suddenly she didn't feel so alone.

"I'm sorry," it seemed to say.

With tears still streaming down your cheeks and your eyes wide open, you whispered back, "Thank you."

There were multiple other occasions that you felt him there.

After your father smacked you around a few times for not healing fast enough, or not giving the results he wanted, you'd feel that same warmth.

When you were on the brink of death after healing too many terrible wounds at once, you felt his panic in the corner of your mind.

Sometimes, you could feel a deep loneliness in his mind. Sometimes you could feel he was in physical pain, just like you.

Was it possible that he was going through something similar?

You often wondered if he felt the lack of control that you did.

You knew that you would be destined to meet one day. When and where you didn't really know. You haven't found him yet because his first words to you were still written across your collarbone and you had yet to hear them out loud.

You were in no rush to find your soulmate though, you still had plenty of things you wanted to do. So many places to explore. So much life to live and take back. You were in no rush to settle down with a partner that you had no control over choosing, especially since you just freed yourself.

You ran away from your father's house about 3 months ago. There was a big raid. Enemies of your father had never broken into his base before, and you knew it was likely that it wouldn't happen again soon. So when the locks on your cell were unlocked due to the damage that was happening to the base, you took the opportunity and ran. You took your katana from your father's storage unit on the way out and bolted.

After running for a while, you found a small city. It was called Junipo City. The population was small and the poverty level was high. You were homeless for a while. You slept in an ally way behind the city's supermarket, and that's where he found you. Giichi.

When you first saw Giichi, you thought that he was very handsome. Just looking at his slick back black hair and green eyes made your heart do a little jump in your chest. However, it was his smile that pulled you in. There was something so friendly, so inviting about it. How naive you were then...

He acquainted himself with you and started dropping off food to you for about two weeks. After those two weeks, he convinced you to stay with him in a shelter that he lived in and worked in. He gave you your first set of new clothes in nine years, a place to sleep and food to eat. He took care of you, and for the first time since you escaped, you felt like maybe you didn't have to do things alone.

For the next two months, things were perfect. Giichi showed you all over town during the day. At night, he would bring you hot chocolate before you went to bed. You loved watching him play with all of the other kids and talk with the elderly at the shelter. Sometimes, late at night, you found the courage to confide in him. You told him about your past and all of your fears. Your heart began to flutter madly in your chest whenever he walked into the room. You thought that maybe, everything would be okay, maybe he even liked you too...

But after everything that happened tonight, you found yourself back in square one, alone again.

He had asked you if you had any career plans for the future.

"Hmm," you thought as your feet swung back and forth over the side of your cot, "I was thinking that maybe I could become a Hunter. I'm hoping to take the next exam. I think that my experience with nen and my katana gives me a good chance of passing the exam," you replied sheepishly.

"The next exam?" Giichi asked sorrowfully.

"Yeah," you smiled, "is there something wrong?"

Giichi smiled and shook his head, taking his seat on his cot across from yours.

"There's nothing wrong with that, of course. I'm really happy for you. It's just that...I'm really sad to see you go so soon. The Hunter exam is next week after all."

He looked back up at you. His sorrowful sage meeting your (y/e/c) ones. There was something in his look that made your heart soar...

"Giichi, I-"

He leaned in closer to you from his cot and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. Almost immediately you felt heat rise to your cheeks. He's so close...

"(Y/N)...I was going to wait to tell you this, but since you're leaving I have no choice but to tell you now," a mischievous smile found its way onto his face, "I really like you, (y/n). I have since the moment I met you. You're beautiful and strong. It really makes me sad that you're leaving before we had the chance to become something more than friends..."

Something more than friends? You had never thought about being more than friends with someone other than your soulmate...and even when you did think about that you figured that would be happening way down the line. Right now, you're free and you're allowed to finally make choices for yourself.

The first words of your soulmate burned angrily against the skin of your collarbone.

Could you pursue this, soulmate aside? No...no you couldn't. You were going to become a Hunter. You were going to make money and explore the world. Maybe along the way, you'd meet people and you'd get to finally use your power safely for people you care about...For now, though, you didn't have room for a relationship, despite what you felt for Giichi.

"Giich-"

Before you could tell him how you felt, he placed his hands on your cheeks and pressed his lips to yours.

You were completely frozen. Your eyes wide open in shock and your heart pounding against your chest. This was your first kiss. Before you could even process that thought it was over, and your soulmate mark was on fire.

He was there, lingering dejectedly in the corner of your mind. Feelings of jealousy, betrayal, and finally something passive washed over him in your head. And then he was gone. He shut himself out almost faster than your kiss.

Giichi pulled away from you, "After you get your Hunter license, will you come here and show me?"

You nodded your head slowly, your fingers playing with your tingling lips, "S-Sure."

He smirked and patted your head before walking away, "Get some sleep, (y/n). Goodnight."

Sleeping was the last thing you did. You laid awake in your cot, your soulmate mark throbbing against your collarbone. After about an hour of tossing and turning, you decided to get up and get some water, walking on your tiptoes to avoid waking the other sleeping children in the cots around you.

You were almost to the kitchen when you heard Giichi talking on the phone in his office.

"...uh-huh, yeah...She should be back from her Hunter Exam in two weeks, I'm guessing... Yeah...You can pay me and take her at the same time I guess, no need to make two trips... trust me, she'll definitely be back..."

You rocked on your feet outside of his office, almost losing your balance at the same time. He tried to trick you...he tried to gain your trust and sell you...To who though? Your father? A third party that knew about your power? That didn't matter, right now you had to get away and lay low.

You ran back to your cot and took the few things that you owned. You pulled on your black hoodie and pulled the strap of your Katana case over your chest and let your katana rest on your back. From there, you crept out of the back doors and ran into the night.

Your feet slowed to a stop as you reached the bus stop. A bus was there loading passengers so you immersed yourself into the line, pulling your hoodie over your face.

You took a seat alone at the back of the bus, the rain pattering angrily against the window and the wind rattling the bus.

You can do this alone, (y/n). Don't be afraid, you have to lay low for a little while.

You took a deep breath and shut your eyes. Regret weighed heavily on your heart and you tried to push these thoughts to your soulmate but you were met with silence.

The intercom on the bus buzzed to life, "Next stop: Yorknew City."

[infrequent-creator]

Busted

Summary: Japanese thief, Yume Iwao, is on the run to find a hiding spot. Little did they know, it was the League of Villains’ hideout. 

A/N: Ahhhhh this is my first time writing on here in a while. I made an OC who i thought would be cute with Shiggy. I hope you like them as much as i do! (chapter 2 has the tickles in it hehe)

Word Count: 1,414

TW: adults drinking, marijuana use, brief kidnap?

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Sirens wailing downs the streets of Japan.

"Shit.." Yume whispered quietly. They pushed their black glasses up on their nose.

Clutching their backpack strap tight, Yume scanned for a hiding spot. They couldn't go home until dark, they lived pretty far. Plus, the police would surely follow them. Luckily the stores they knocked off were on the older side of the city. Most of the homes were condemned, so lots of homeless people used them for shelter. No biggie. Nothing that they couldn't handle, they've surely been through worse. Quickly digging through their backpack, they changed the hoodie they were wearing. Yume shoved the rest of their hair under the hat.

They settle on a house a couple streets away. Plus, they didnt even need to break anything to get inside. The back door was cracked open. Slipping inside, they let the door shut gently behind them. The air was somewhat stale and old, but it'll do. Walking a little deeper inside, they open the closest door. Flipping the light on, gasping as their blood runs cold. It's a bedroom. The room wasn't much, just a bed, a cage in the corner, a small table with a computer covered in notes, and a closet. Iwao needed to get out of there fast, before whoever lived here came back.

Suddenly, the back door opened. Yume froze in place.

"I told you, hot head, leave the pipe in the door when we go out. What if we lost the key?" a raspy voice spoke.

"Then you're even dumber than I thought, not that I'm surprised.." another low voice responded. Shit shit SHIT! They become frantic, quickly turn the light off again. Yume ran to hide inside the closet, leaned against the cool wood in the back of it. Their anxiety teetered on the brink of a panic attack. Air fills their lungs as they take deep, controlled breaths.

"Yeah yeah guys quit your bitching, I'll order food later. I'm gonna change first, this shirt smells like shit." Whoever lived in here, their scent was very pleasant. The slight sense of tea and old spice filled Yume's nose. They heard the bedroom door close, then some rustling. They slowly peak out of the crack in the closet door. There was a guy in the room, crouching by the cage.

"Hey buddy hey, you miss me huh? You miss daddy?" He cooed at the cage. 'Who was he talking to?' They wondered.

He stood up fully, gods he was tall. His scraggly light blue hair hung to his shoulders. He set his phone down aside, only to grab the bottom of his shirt. Yume's cheeks heat up as he pulls it off, but all that goes out of their mind when they feel something jump down onto their shoulders. Yume let out scream as they tripped over something in the closet, falling through the doors. They ended up face up at the ceiling, frozen. Suddenly, the man was on top of Yume, pinning them to the floor by the throat with 4 fingers.

"Who the FUCK are you and why are you in my room?!" He growled in his raspy voice, his red eyes dilated.

They stuttered as they spoke. "I-I'm sorry..! I was just-!"

"What's going on in there?" the second voice from earlier shouted from outside.

"Dabi get a rope and a chair, quick!" Panicked breaths fill Yume's lungs. There was the sound of the bedroom door slamming into the wall. Another man rushed in with the requested items. He was definitely scarier than the guy that had them by the neck. The thing was, the grip wasn't even tight. He was only using 4 fingers to hold their throat, maybe his quirk had something to do with that.

"What the fuck is going on here, Shigaraki?" Shigaraki...why did that name sound so familiar? Yume didn't have time for this, these guys were probably going to kill them, or worse. Which meant they had to act fast. They used their shoulder to shove Shigaraki into the wall. They rush to the door, trying to get past Dabi. Sadly, he was stronger than they anticipated. He dropped both items and grabbed them. Quickly, he threw their backpack to the floor, twisting your arm behind their back. Yume yelped in pain, trying to shake him off.

"Feisty little brat you found Shiggy, maybe they'd make a nice new Nomu?" Dabi growled in their ear.

"LET GO OF ME YOU FREAK!" Yume screamed. Shigaraki was on his feet, one hand on the chair. Dabi spun them into the chair, landing roughly. Both Shigaraki's hands used all his strength to hold their shoulder's down. Again, only using 3 fingers and a thumb on hold each shoulder. What was his deal? The two passed the rope back and forth around Yume torso, all the while they tried to wiggle free.

"I'd stop moving around brat, wouldn't want these fingers of mine to slip.." Shigaraki's raised finger gently teased the skin on their shoulder. Yume froze at the feeling, their skin was tingling, almost vibrating. It didn't hurt, but it was certainly a strange feeling. What kind of quirk was this? Not wanting to risk it, reluctantly they stop moving.

"Much better, now. Who are you...and why the fuck are you in my room?" he walked around the chair to stand with Dabi. Yume finally got a chance to get a good look at the both of them.

Fuck they were both terrifying. Yume felt their lip quiver, their eye glossing up a little too.

"Not talking huh? I'd reconsider that. We'd hate to have to use our quirks on you, brat." Dabi stepped closer to Yume, their struggling amplified. Suddenly, Dabi's whole arm burst into blue flames. They shrank away with a yelp, the flames inches from their skin. Yume closed their eye under the glasses they were still wearing. Dabi let his flames go out, leaving a stinging heat on Yume's cheek.

"The results could be dastardly..." Shigaraki's right hand slowly inched to Yume's face.

"W-Wait.. hey get away from me...don't touch me HEY!" Their eye open with fear. 5 fingertips touched on the lenses of their glasses. Before their eye, Yume's glasses turned to powder in their lap.

"Well well, look at you. Does that have to relate to your quirk? They might make an interesting Nomu yet.." Shigaraki pointing at Yume's eye.

"Y-yeah I can um, petrify things...anything." They explained softly.

"Interesting. Tell me brat, why haven't you used it on us yet?" Dabi cocked his eyebrow.

"B-Because...I don't like using it on people unless I have to. I mainly just use my bat." Nodding to their bat on the floor near their backpack.

"Really...such a shame. Now listen, if I don't get some answers as to why you're in my room..." Shigaraki quickly snatched Yume's backpack off the floor, dumping the content on the bed. "...or I'll start putting my quirk to use." He picked up one of their personal items, which just so happened to be their art tablet.

"Ok ok...jeez..my name is Iwao Yume. I'm here because I was hiding from the police." Making eye contact with their lap. Dabi laughed a little, causing you to look up.

"The police? What could a tiny thing like you do to make the police chase you?" He snickered. Yume huffed.

"Open the brown bag there...but anything in there is mine." Yume said assertively. Shigaraki grabbed the bag and opened it. Dumping it out, at least 200,000 yen fell on to his palm.

"Oh shit.." Both of them said under their breath.

"Where did you get this much money?"

"I robbed a couple stores in the same mall before the cops were called. Please, I really need it. I'll leave right now just.. please don't take the money." Yume's eye welled up with tears peaking in both corners. Both men looked at Yume, to tell the truth. They both felt a little bad, of course neither of them would admit that to each other, or Yume.

"No." Shigaraki put the money back in the bag and closed it. Yume looked a little startled, some tears dropping from their eye.

"N-No?" Yume asked, suddenly very worried.

"No, you can't leave here. They'll be looking for you. They find you, they find us. You're staying here tonight." As he spoke, he let all his fingers touch the rope.

Wait... WHAT?!

[a-purple-lizard]

Could you please do a Kabal x F!Reader

Where the reader hates the fact that he’s in the black dragons but she still loves him. So could you please write something of a love and hate relationship

With smut please 🥺

Swift dragon

Kabal x female reader

[This post is NSFW]

I’m am SO sorry this took so long, I had major writers block with this one. Personally, kabal isn’t my cup of tea, I’ve just never got the appeal to him, but I hope I did him justice.

But seriously, if anybody has any Kabal tips, please tell me! I would greatly appreciate it!

[FINAL WARNING, NSFW BELOW THE LINE]

Cold wind blew through the rugged streets, whistling as it passed through poorly made shacks and campfires. At least a hundred people, including small children and babies, were gathered around the small fires. Their clothes were little more than rags. Suddenly, a woman approached out of the darkness.

She held out her palm, allowing the homeless people of outworld to hastily take the food she has offered them. S/o smiled sadly at the children who attempted to give their food to their parents, only to be rejected. She wished she had enough to feed all of them.

After she ran out of the bread that she handed out, she swiftly climbed up only a nearby rooftop. The air stunk with smoke and human waste. “What’s up s/o? Come to visit me?”

Her heart jolted from her chest, turned around, tackling the man with a hug. He yelped at the sudden contact as s/o peppered his face with kisses. The two turned into a giggling mess as s/o sat up, straddling his thighs. Her smile suddenly melted into bitter resentment when she saw the black dragon uniform. “Babe? What’s wrong?”

“Tell me, kabal, how many children did you steal from today?” She asked coldly, getting off of him. Kabal quickly scrambled to his feet, following her to the edge of the building.

“H-hey! What’s up with that accusation?” He demanded, sitting beside her, his legs dangling off the edge.

“A month ago, half these people lived in small houses. When Kano and his goons started to charge a “protection fee” they were reduced to living out here in the cold.” Her tone held an edge to it. “So tell me kabal, when you were out collecting, how many kids did you see?”

The way kabal grimaced and turned away reminded s/o of a child who knew he was wrong was but too stubborn to admit it. “It's just business, babe. Nothin personal.”

“You’re right, it isn’t personal. Who the hell cares about starving civilians? Not the emperor, not Kano, and sure as hell not you.” Her cold voice growled. “Just business, they’re just numbers to you, specifically check numbers.”

Suddenly, s/o let out a grunt as she was pinned to the ground. Kabal stared down at her, anger in his eyes. “Don’t you put that on me.”

“Oh I’m sorry, is reality ruining your little bad boy with a cause complex?” She yelled, struggling against him, “wake the fuck up, look around, these are real people, like you and me, that you are hurting!”

“Why are you so worried about what I do!? Why can’t you just mind your own damn business!?” He yelled, his grip bruising her wrist.

“Because I love you goddammit!” S/o cried out, kabal froze at her words, grip loosening. The woman below him had tears running down her face, “I love you, more than you know. Watching you burn away your soul like this… it hurts. You’re a good guy, but Kano is corrupting you! And you’re letting him!”

Kabals eyes drifted from her for a second, clouding over with some unfamiliar emotion. The raging storm within his soul was put on pause by a soft hand on his cheek. S/o gave him a weak look. “Please, Kabal, listen. Leave the black dragon, leave Kano.”

“It isn’t that easy.” He mumbled, easing his lower body onto hers. The weight was comforting to s/o as she lifted her head to place a soft kiss into his lips. The man quickly returned it, passionately and desperate. His fingers locked around hers, pressing her down harder beneath him.

Kabals lips broke from hers and latched onto her throat. He hummed as he dragged his mouth across her skin, the rhythmic sound was intoxicating. “No, but I can make it easier.” She whispered.

A startled groan tumbled from his mouth as an knee pressed up between his thighs. S/o could feel the hardness of him through his pants. With agonizingly slow movements, she rubbed her leg up and down. His grip tightened with a growl.

“Is this your way of persuading me?” He grunted, grinding onto her leg. His mouth broke away from her flesh, he looked down atp her, eyes clouded with lust. “Cause it just might work.”

S/o leaned upwards, planting a soft kiss on his lips before pushing him back. The man fell on his back with an oof. Before kabal could even make sense of the action, s/o was atop him.

Placing a hand down onto him, she gently cupped his cheek. He sighed and leaned into it ever so slightly. “Promise me.”

Her thighs clenched around his wait as she steadily grinded into him. He grunted and tried to buck his hips up in pleasure. “I’ll only let you have me, if you promise to leave the black dragon.”

“B-babe- fuck. This is hardly fair, cmon- ah!” S/o slid her hand under her, massaging the hardness between his legs. Kabal seethed and writhed, nails digging into the ground. His eyes rolled back as she unzipped his pants, allowing her fingers to slip in.

Kabal tried to sit up, hand reaching for her breast, only to he pushed back down with her free hand. “Touch me, and I’ll stop.”

Helpless groans and pleas fell from his mouth, turning into moans of pleasure as her hands continued. She rubbed, squeezed and even licked the piece of flesh in her hand, watching each reaction as she did. “Fuck, s/o I’m close.”

Speeding up her movements, he was practically fucking her fist as he arched his back, mouth agape. He was so close only a little more-

Her touch quickly disappeared just as his high was at its brink. The man whined, trying to touch himself, but s/o didint allow him. “S/o, please, cmon.”

“Not until you promise me!” Her hands crashed on either side of his head, staring into his eyes. Her gaze held anger, sadness, regret, love? “You’re better then this, I know you are. Please.”

“I’ll- I’ll only take jobs that don’t hurt civilians, how about that?” He rasped out, at a lost for breath. “I won’t do anymore protection frees, I’ll just do regular old assassination jobs, only for people who deserve it. Bad people.”

S/o frowned, but the heat of her gaze had subsided, she sighed. “I suppose that’s the most I can get out of you at the moment.” Closing her eyes, she rolled on her back beside him. “You better get the most out of me. While I’m still around.”

Despite the threat, Kabal could hear true despair in her tone. She really did love him. Guilt clouded Kabal as he mounted her thighs. Normally there was no slow moments of intamcy, only a deep connection of mutual unspoken passion as they mercilessly merged their body’s. Tonight, that would be different.

S/o flinched in surprise when she felt a soft, pleading kiss flutter on her lips. Her wide eyes stared up as his desperate gaze. There was genuine fear and sadness. “Kabal?”

“Hey, look.” His voice was breathless as he spoke. “You are, the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You have treated me like a human being, which is more then I can say for others. I know, I’m a scum bag, I know I’m everything you’re not. But at the end of the day, you love me, no matter what I do.”

S/o smiled up at him, “I try to hate you, but everytime I try, I just end up loving you more.”

Kabal laughed, giving her a smug look, “guess I’m just that good lookin.” That earned a playful elbow in the back. He laughed once again, “ok, ok, I’ll shut up now. I’ll make you feel good.”

“Yeah?” S/o smiled as Kabal started to unbutton her shirt, exposing cleavage as she wrapped her arms around him.

“Yeah.” His lips connected with hers in a kiss. Hands crept down her body, fingertips tracing her skin, grabbing onto her thighs and separating them. Kabal placed himself between her legs, his pants were still unzipped, his problem was out in the cold air.

Kabal hovered atop her, kiss becoming much more heated as she bit his lip, demanding he give her entrance. He smugly chuckled, holding back a remark as her tongue assaulted his. After a short battle of dominance, s/o was declared the winner as she hastily explored his wet cavern.

Ripping her shirt open and unclipping her bra, sliding it off and throwing it to the side, kabals mouth ripped from her kiss and latched into her breast. S/o released a whiny moan, nails digging into his back as began to lick and suck all over. His tongue traced her skin, searching her the right spot.

Her mouth opened with a gasp as Kabal located a tender scrap of skin and began to abuse it. Biting down in it, only to suck it between his teeth. That was definitely going to leave a Mark.

S/o grinded upwards into his exposed groin. The man moaned slightly, hand reaching down to unzip her pants. His fingers slipped past her panties and into her soaked folds of sensitive flesh. He rubbed and slid his fingers around each crevice, leaving s/o a pleading mess. “Fuck... just fucking do it already.”

“As my girl commands.” He teased breathlessly, positioning himself at her entrance. His fingers took hold of her wrist, pinning them above her head as he entered her at an agonizingly slow pace, allowing himself to stretch out her inner walls. S/o writhed beneath him, clumsy moans dripping from her mouth.

He then proceeded to fuck her brains out. He was FAST like, ridiculously fast. Not superpower fast, but it was clear that he was going to make s/o pay for her teasing.

Hands tangled in hair and nails dug into skin as he drilled into her. She early met his thrust with her own, hips slamming hard enough to leave bruises. Neither of them cared.

Leaning over, his mouth assaulted hers, this time he took complete control of her mouth, invading it as he pleased. The two groaned into the kiss as his thrust became heavier, slower, sloppier.

S/o was left gasping for air as Kabal left her mouth, his saliva decorating her lips. He trailed down kisses from the corner of her mouth to the crook of her neck. His teeth met her flesh, biting and sucking.

They were both getting close already. S/o cried out each time he slammed into her, her face was pure ecstasy. “Kabal! Fuck... I’m-“

“Yeah, me too babe.” He rasped out, grip tightening as his thrust became desperate and rough until finally the knot in s/o’s stomach snapped. The two slammed their faces together, keeping eachother grounded as their release washed over them.

Kabal let go of her wrist, his hands tangling themselves in her hair. One hand drifted down to her side to rub comforting circles in her flesh. His chest steady rose up and down, the rhythmic movement against her made s/o relax her body unde him.

The high started to go down as they broke away. They simply remained still as they caught their breaths. Kabals raspy gulps of air turned into a cocky chuckle, “sombody enjoyed that.”

S/o was too exhausted to playfully slap him, instead she just gave him a look which earned a laugh. “Shut up and take me to wherever your staying. I’m tired.”

“Oh, so we can fuck on the rooftop with pigeons staring at us, but sleeping here? That’s fucking disgusting.” That one gave her the strength to slap him.

[otherworldlyeffervescentcreature]

This is nothing new. It’s centuries old as time itself in the existence of all living beings. Yet it is all the more eye opening and heart aching when it is in front of you. I would like to think this bothers others as much as it has me, however, I realize all the more now that this is not the case. I have a side job as a barista. It’s a mindless yet an interesting job because the customer is what makes it worth the while. Typically I am much more a loner, perhaps I realistically could survive without human contact and books at this stage in life and make a way just fine. My heart hurts and my soul aches. Not for myself, it was never worth enough for the time and energy to woe is me. It is my brothers and sisters, I ache for. A couple came into the shop today. I recognize them from a few times before, yet this day was different. It was desperate. An utmost feeling of internal death. This woman was rather frantic and rambling on and suddenly I heard, “I didn’t sleep well last night and fell off the bench”. I caught myself from gasping and paid a closer look and tears started to well up in my eyes. My voice was breaking and no-longer could I speak. They were there to escape the heat and utilize our wifi and researching for hours how to get back on their feet again. They certainly were not your stereotypical homeless persons. She said she was embarrassed and I responded that it was unnecessary to feel such a way. I too am on that brink if I leave where I am at. I too was there before. A trigger is an understatement. Anyways, as a couple hours passed there were customers in and out and at one point a woman complaining that we had no more venti cups for her iced non~fat matcha green tea latte, little did she know the couple sitting at the table directly behind her didn’t even have a pillow to sleep on at night.

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