#and yall must suffer too

[aenthroppe]

one must imagine narcissus happy

[lemonlilactea]

i did try and use "trapped for years" prompt from earlier hehehehe

At first, they think they can get out. Maybe Solas couldn’t but he always underestimated mortals, underestimated them. They step quickly, running across the seemingly endless stones of the prison, desperately seeking an exit, or even a hint one might exist.

After a few days, they realize hunger and thirst aren’t really the same, aren’t something needed here. Perfect, it means more time to search, to find a path out of here, to find anything. 

Weeks, maybe? More than a month. The eerie silence has become familiar, the stillness in the air leaving a taste of dust on their tongue that may never vanish. They start marking time on the fallen pillar they’ve made their starting point. Memory is only helpful to a point here, everything feeling fogged in their mind. 

The only real sound, a voice, is more haunting and cruel than comforting. The call of a dead friend, begging for help, for Rook to save them. But they didn’t. They failed, and now their friends are dead, and the rest might soon follow. 

It could be months now, by the time they navigate their own regret far enough to make what feels like progress. Time lost meaning quickly, no sun to rise and fall to mark the days. Too much sky, like Davrin once said. Rook hasn’t spoken a word aloud in weeks, accepting the blanket of silence draping over them, weighing them down as they turn the same path again and again and again, hoping this time it might change. 

By the time they find the door, solid wood, locked firmly shut, they know it’s been too long. Years. Agonizing years of muted stone and sky. The world must be in ashes and blight now, their friends, everyone must be dead. Rook already fought back the cold grip of the choices they’ve made, the people they lost, but they can feel that this prison still holds them. Something more, something stronger is still lurking in their mind, something they’ve refused so deeply to face, whether or not by their own design, they can’t tell. What could possibly be worse? What could be left? 

Varric. Of course. Of course he didn’t survive, that never made sense, did it. Of course they failed him too, couldn’t save him. And all that time in the lighthouse, that was Solas, manipulating and adapting his perfect pawn, the Rook to take the fall. If nothing else, if everything and everyone they love is dead, the least they can do is find their way out and repay the Dread Wolf in kind. If they were to lose years and lives while in here, Rook would ensure that Solas would lose something to match once they are free. What they didn’t expect was the almost forgotten sound of their friends, calling to them. The shimmer of the Veil, grabbing hands pulling their weary form from the Fade and back into the world, back to their family. How? This couldn’t be, shouldn’t be possible, isn’t possible. Another trick? Have they finally fully snapped, and this is imagined by a broken mind desperate for any type of escape? But oh, it feels real. The warmth of skin, the nearly painful cacophony of worried voices, the wind. It’s real. They are freed, they are home.

[tbsviovixx]

IVE BEEN REMINDWD OF THAT ONE SUN WHO DIDNT HAVE A MOON'S EXISTENCE N THE CONCEPT THAT THEY COULD STILL POSSIBLY BE WATCHING THE CHANNEL. NOW YALL LIVE WITH THIS INFO.

[snekdood]

when ppl are like "do u know ppl of x minority that ur still in contact with" as a gotcha ig to say ur not actually as open and progressive as you say you are but bud... i dont talk to anyone from my past, lmao, I dont think thats a fair metric to go by quite frankly

[intern-seraph]

the most fascinating thing to me abt the ongoing leftist atrocity denial re: what happened on oct 7 is the implication that the ppl continuing the atrocity denial seem to believe that acknowledging the reality of what was done would somehow make them less of a pro-palestine activist. there is footage and there are photos and there are survivor testimonies but ppl are plugging their ears and going "LALALALALA" and calling it propaganda and i think that is in part bc, while they say that hamas does not represent all palestinians (true! in fact palestinians should be free of hamas! it's a far right religious extremist org (like the current party in power in israel) whose leader is a rich asshole living a life of luxury in qatar while gaza is fucking carpet bombed and entire families are being wiped out. they haven't allowed an election in over a decade, they violently suppress dissent, and supporting their rise to power is explicitly one of bibi's strategies to keep palestinians from gaining freedom. like you are supporting bibi's favorite anti-liberation faction when you cheer on hamas' actions. personally i do not believe for even a second that they give a rat's ass about the lives of palestinians and they are in fact not the good guys just bc they hate israel but maybe i'm just a (((filthy zionist pig))) amirite?), they cannot separate the actions of hamas from the liberation movement as a whole, and they see condemning the org as a betrayal of palestinians... somehow. as if being unable to separate the actions of an extremist faction from the entire rest of the population of palestinians as a whole isn't... bad and kinda really racist and weird?????? and so so so many of them were the ppl celebrating the pogrom on oct 7 as a radical act of liberation (nobody was liberated. it made things worse.) that i think acknowledging that THIS is what they were celebrating creates such a powerful sense of cognitive dissonance for them that they have to deny it ever even happened. surely this wasn't real (but if it was, the victims DESERVED IT!), because that would mean there are people who are in fact bad and do bad things on the "side" they're rooting for, and we all know that your enemies are the only ones capable of doing wrong! it's sports team mentality.

acknowledging that atrocities happened does not make you less pro-palestine. it means you are recognizing reality. acknowledging that reality does not mean that suddenly you think the atrocities that were and are BEING committed by the IDF are excusable or didn't happen or whatever (and that's a fucking bizarre conclusion to make, but a conclusion i have seen many make nonetheless). both bad. bad thing real. even if it happened to the citizens of the country you hate. pretending it didn't happen is not an anticolonial win, it's just playing pretend about real human beings' real human lives and deaths. it helps nobody, except perhaps your wounded conscience.

also obligatory jew disclaimer bc i know you wanna call me a (((zionist))) soooooo bad: i'm not a fucking zionist, assholes. kiss my ass if that's all you gathered from this. i'm saying that denying reality is not a radical example of anticolonialism, it just makes you a dick.

[ipoddymouth]

yall better not let me catch u talkin bad about urself in posts!!!!! i WILL slide into ur inbox/dms with a pep talk!!!! 😤

[blublublujk]

good girl, gone bad

oneshot

word count: 6k

genre: established (secret) relationship

pairing: good girl y/n x bad boy jk

summary:

“I can’t believe anyone actually likes those stupid fucks. I mean, the hickeys, it’s like he wants everyone to know he actually fucks.” You stay staring just a tad longer at the buff (sexy) jock, short enough so that Karina won’t notice. This time the boy proudly parading the trail of hickeys down his neck smiles at you and parts with a quick wave, some blonde hair boy from the group laughs at him and shakes his arm teasingly. You can’t help but to smile too, it’s barely there, but he’ll know. You decide to turn around and follow her steps. “Yeah totally, me either.” What your best friend doesn’t know won’t kill her… right?

warnings: basically just pwp but plot went missing (oops!), swearing, smoker jk (i swear if anyone complains in my inbox i'll haunt you), explicit sexual content; jk has a huge dick ok, consensual recording/pictures, car sex (don't fuck in a car), hickeys, unprotected vaginal sex, dirty talk, spanking, squirting, breast play, blowjob, fingering, cunnilingus, come shot (on face), slut shaming (again lol), come tasting/swallowing, stomach bulge (my fault i love this one), choking, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie

a.n: sorry for a late update hope yall dont mind, but i just wanna get rid of all my drafts they are PILING. lol forgive me for only always writing about jungkook, but he's so easy to write about. he breathes, and i instantly open my notes app (im not even joking). this has been sitting in my drafts since his LA trip (iykyk) it sparked a conversation and i wrote it. i want that man bad... and im lesbian :D

ANYWAYS enjoy and STREAM GOLDEN for our golden bunny <3

p.s: i'll probably come back to this couple but its a oneshot for now... but wouldn't no nut nov be fun with this jk?? everyone say yesss. ok bye.

—> m.list

—> welcome me on ao3 & twt

—-

“Ugh, what a piece of shit.”

Before you even get to ask who, the motorcycle roars back to life across the parking structure belonging to the very one and only, Jeon Jungkook. A group of college jocks crowd around the man. There’s a cigarette between his fingers, he’s not paying it much attention though. He's deep in conversation, laughing at something one of them said, clearly more invested in the joke than anything else around him. 

As the laughter dies down, he looks over, eyes connecting while he brings the cigarette to his pierced lip, slowly inhaling the toxic fume. The terribly annoying (yet somehow sexy) tattooed jock on his loud motorcycle winks towards your direction, before selfishly exhaling that poisonous smoke into the air. Fuck, you really, really wanted to hate him too. 

“Yuck.” Karina gags with a scrunch to her nose, turning a cold back to them and you’re grateful to her because you almost get stuck in his lustful gaze. 

“Yeah… yuck.” You reply with no real meaning somehow managing to convince her you meant it.

“I hate him and his stupid friends. They are killing the Earth slowly and they don’t even give a fuck!” Karina argues in all her given glory and in her environmental science major mindset. “Plus those cancer sticks reek, why must the general public suffer because they can’t last thirty without them.”

Jungkook could last thirty without them. Way more than thirty when you were around him, especially when he was given something (or someone) to entertain himself with, but you couldn't say that aloud so the sudden thoughts stayed safe and sound in your head. 

“No, no they don’t. But what can we do?” There’s a sigh and then you clear your throat. “Should we get going now?”

Your arm wraps around hers, gesturing the way back to campus with a swift wave where you both had been meaning to study given that classes finally started cramping in heavy assignments.

“Yes, please.” Karina is quick to sharply turn her heel and walk back towards the building. “I can’t believe anyone actually likes those stupid fucks. I mean, the hickeys, it’s like he wants everyone to know he actually fucks.”

You stay staring just a tad longer at the buff (sexy) jock, short enough so that Karina won’t notice. This time the boy proudly parading the trail of hickeys down his neck smiles at you and parts with a quick wave, some blonde hair boy from the group laughs at him and shakes his arm teasingly. You can’t help but to smile too, it’s barely there, but he’ll know. You decide to turn around and follow her steps. “Yeah totally, me either.”

What your best friend doesn’t know won’t kill her… right?

—-

“You taste disgusting.” There’s a muffled laugh pressed into your lips, as your tongues meet halfway, meeting each other’s lips in a bruising wet kiss. Your ass grinds roughly against his lap, groaning into your mouth while you bring your ass flush down, feeling his soft cock harden below you. His right hand grips your right ass cheek, jiggling it in his hand, before smacking it (with love, of course!). 

“Yeah?” Jungkook smirks, bringing his mouth against your throat, sucking and licking everywhere there was space. He sneakily leaves little love bites behind even though he knows you’ll kill him for this later because you have somewhere to be after this. He even bites your ear lobe gently between his teeth, before he cockily whispers. “You love it though.”

The whimper that leaves your mouth should be illegal. It only drives Jungkook crazier. 

Both hands find purchase on your ass now, spanking you once again in each cheek. Though Jungkook was a bit disappointed he wasn’t seeing your flushed bare cheeks on top of him, but he guesses he can settle for now. “You gonna let me fuck you now baby?”

He gropes your asscheeks without any hesitation, still leaving wet kisses buzzing onto your skin, stealing a quick kiss from your raw-bitten lips. 

“Mm, only if you ask nicely.” You tease, dragging a finger along his jawline.

With this, Jungkook laughs, throwing his head back. Your hand comes to fist his hair, while he drops another wet smooch onto your lips. “You know I’d do anything for a piece of this ass angel.”

You smile into the kiss, grinding harder against his now– hard cock. You felt your folds leak of your own arousal. It was so undeniable. The attraction between you two, the desire to take each other apart, to be within each other’s arms. There was no place like Jungkook’s lap. Here you could stay forever.

“Imagine what people would say if they saw you like this baby.” Jungkook starts teasing, tugging your shirt off with no trouble. Your breasts catch his attention, noticing that you are wearing that black lingerie set he had bought for you last Valentine’s Day. “Fuck. Look at you baby.”

He squishes your breasts together, leaning up to kiss the uncovered tender flesh on both sides. You don’t even attempt to hold your moans back. “I– nghhh.”

“Did you expect to get fucked today princess? Hmm? Is this all for me?” Jungkook’s words work like magic, they drip off his sinful tongue like honey. You bring your body flush against his, burying your blushing face against his neck. “Don’t get shy on me baby, tell me. Did you wear this all for me?”

He purrs sweetly and you only nod, cheeks burning red. 

It's not like you were embarrassed of him, no in fact, you were happy to announce that the college campus’ certified bad boy is all yours and has been for the past two years. 

There was no exact moment to this, the attraction had always been there. 

You had first officially met Jungkook in one of your general ed classes. Statistics, to be exact, which he would have one-hundred percent failed had it not been for you passing him the answers mid exams. It wasn’t like that to begin with of course, it took you some convincing. To be fair and to your excuse, it was so hard to say no to those beautiful big brown eyes.

At first, you assumed he was doing this all, acting lost and playing dumb, to get into your pants which he succeeded. However you had enough dignity left to make him work for it. Until you realized those secret smiles, stolen glances, and subtle hand holds were much more than just a silly game. You had fallen for his charm, and against everyone’s advice to stay far away from him, you fell in love with the (not so terrible) bad boy and let him take over your heart completely. It happened so randomly and so all at once. It was confusing, new, but most of all, liberating. 

Being with Jungkook was so freeing and the thrill of being caught with him was so worth it. It didn’t matter what people thought of you or him, you both were willing to die on this hill of love. 

Jungkook, too, had fallen quickly. How could he not? There was nothing to dislike and everything to love. Your pouty scolds, he looked forward to. The stolen glances across campus were his favorite, a secret only you and him held close to heart. There were times where your cheeks would flush pink, because he would steal kisses from you behind the campus library. You were seriously his favorite person ever. 

“Jungkook stop! What if someone sees us?” You would whisper-shout, a pout would form against your will. 

Jungkook would just kiss your worries away again and again and then say. “You’re the cutest little thing alive baby.” 

“Are you trying to change the subject?” It was hard to speak between kisses, that and the fact that he would squish your cheeks together like the adorable boyfriend he was. 

“I don’t know. Is it working?” His reply was cheeky and lips would start trailing down your neck and then you determined, yes. Yes, it is working. Fuck it all. 

It’s safe to say, he was yours since the start of it all, as you were his. Wrapped in each other’s fingers before anyone had realized it, now you were inseparable. 

“Answer me princess.” Jungkook pulls you back gently, observing your flushed face. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

Of course, this only makes you blush harder, but you do manage to admit. “Y-Yes… I wore this only for you. Always for you.”

Jungkook smiles, pecking your cheek. “Then I’m the luckiest man alive angel.”

He cradles your face, before leaning in to kiss you. This time, you guys take your time. Your mouths stay closed, taking the time to really feel the plushy feeling against your own and enjoy each other’s presence. You felt as if you were floating in clouds. 

“Jungkook.” You mumble onto his lips and he hums, but that’s not enough so you call his name once more with intent. “Jungkook.”

He pulls back with a questioning look. “Yes, my love?”

“Can you please just fuck me already?” The words come out barely above a whisper, even after fucking you so many times, you could be so shy at times.

Jungkook breaks out into a bunny-like grin, holding back a stifled laugh. “So much for wanting to make me say please, look at who’s pleading now.” 

“J-Jungkook…” Your face goes hot again and he laughs once more, patting your ass softly.

“Okay. Okay, my love. Enough teasing, I’ll fuck you since you asked so nicely baby.” Jungkook takes his sweet time taking off his own shirt, and pulling your skirt off. It was a bit tricker, given you were both in your car which was not fit for two people even in the backseat, but you guys always made it work. 

You were still scared to ride to campus with him as much as he begged you to because it would blow your secret relationship, but fucking on campus has yet to be off-limits. Mainly because Jungkook fucks you all too well, and you aren’t one to say no to good dick (oops).

He attaches his mouth right above the bare skin of your left breast. He holds your tits in his hands, pushing them together, stuffing his face right between them. Jungkook makes sure to pay attention to both breasts (it’s only fair), rubbing your hard buds through the black lace which hardly covers them. You bite back a moan, feeling him rut up against your heat, his hard length pressing stiffly against you, your walls already clenching, desperate to feel him inside you.

His tattooed hand slips below, releasing the nipple he had been tugging on earlier. You feel the tip of his fingertips brush against your panties. “Fuck, you’re so wet baby. I can’t wait to be inside you.”

Surely by now, you were dripping onto the lace. His erection is still pressing against your inner thigh. “D-Don’t wait then.”

Your boyfriend smiles, bringing his lips to yours. “Behave. You’ll get some dick inside you soon.”

Like the brat you were, your eyes rolled back so used to being spoiled. He pays it no mind though because his tongue comes out again, licking your lips apart. Your tongues meet once more, this time you suck his tongue into your mouth, brushing it against the roof of your mouth. He taste quite bitter, it’s the cigarette from earlier, yet somehow and against all judgement, he tastes fucking delicious. Especially when a grunt slips from his throat, feeling you roll your barely covered folds against his fingers.

He allows this, putting more pressure with two fingers, feeling you drench his fingertips even through your panties. Jungkook pushes his tongue deeper into your mouth, spit mixing as he reciprocates the favor, sucking gently on your tongue. You tasted like the strawberries you had earlier for lunch and Jungkook groans, greedily swallowing the taste in your mouth. 

What an innocent sweet little thing you were and he was about to ruin you all. 

Cigarettes and strawberries. 

Quite the pair. 

You whine into his mouth, unable to hold back much longer. “Please, Jungkook…”

He smirks against your mouth. How much he loved the way you fell apart on his cock. Especially more, when he had barely had his hands on you and you were already begging for more. Jungkook pulls back, but not before you whine a soft “no.” He holds your cheeks in his palms, forcing you to look directly into his hazy eyes. 

“Imagine if people knew baby.” His voice comes out more sultry, rough around the edges. His thumb carrasses your cheek, patting your mouth open. “How much of a slut you were for this dick.”

His words make you mewl (he knows how much you get off to this thought), he slowly eases two fingers into your mouth, holding your chin in place. You made sure to suck on them as he liked, your tongue coming flat against them. 

Jungkook bucks his hips into yours, chest rising while he watches you suck, like the good girl you were. “Imagine if they really knew, baby? Such a sweet girl like you, with someone so dangerous and reckless like me. What would they say? Hmm?”

He pulls out his fingers, seeing them barely glisten under the light.

“I- I don’t know.” Your voice is dry and soft yet, you are incredibly horny.

“You don’t know? I have a few ideas.” Jungkook chuckles, hands brushing along your back. “Can this come off?” 

He tugs your bra from behind and you hesitate to nod permission. “Good, I wanna watch them bounce when I finally fuck you.”

By now, you have given up resisting him, so you moan pathetically as he shreds your bra with ease and takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking the tender bud into his tongue, flicking it and placing it between his teeth. He tugs and licks the sting away, watching with hooded eyes as you squirm against him. Your face burns imagining the idea. 

What if people knew? How would your friends react? They would surely be disappointed, Jungkook was good for nothing but trouble. Yet, he was perfect to you. You were willing to defend him from hell and back. Whatever it took for them to believe you. 

Jungkook moves to the other bud, placing it into his mouth, cupping and gripping your breasts. His mouth was hot and heavy against your nipple, his tongue caressing the hard bud. He squeezes them one last time before letting them drop, watching them bounce gently against your chest. Yup, Jungkook was the luckiest man alive. There was nothing better than this moment right here.

Heat travels your body quickly, feeling your own chest rise, struggling to breathe in the steamy car. Your boyfriend looks down, communicating with his eyes instead of actually saying anything, your hands quickly move to his belt, tugging them off and throwing it anywhere else. Desperately, you unbuckle his jeans, harshly pulling his boxer down, just enough to watch his dick spring out. The flushed, wet length smacks against his stomach, watching as his abs clench at the sensation. If you stare any longer, you’ll start drooling. “So good for me angel.” 

There’s no time to waste. 

“Wanna suck you off.” You breathe out, voice filled with desire and lust, clearly it takes over because usually his girlfriend was much shyer and timid, but that all disappeared when Jungkook’s cock was present. 

“Yeah?” Jungkook watches you drop on your knees, your pretty knees will for sure suffer the consequences of your horny choice, but there was no stopping this. He pats his thighs as he leans back to give you enough space. “I’m all yours, baby girl.”

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek when he feels your warm mouth wrap around his dick. Your tongue comes out messily, practically salivating and dripping all over him. There’s probably not a single day that goes by that you aren’t sucking his dick, but it was quite the experience every damn time. 

“F-Fuck, I wish you could see yourself.” He struggles a bit because the sight is fucking sinful and if people knew you like he did, they wouldn’t believe the person in front of him. 

His personal little cockslut. 

You pop off for a second, hand still wrapped around his length covered in your spit. “Yeah? Then take a picture for me, Kook.”

Double fuck.

When you first started dating Jungkook, you were against any pictures at all. After time passed and to his luck, you came around and you would let him take pictures, but only if he promised your face wasn’t in the frame. Now, his camera roll is covered with images of you and your blooming relationship. You didn’t care anymore about covering or blurring your face out. His camera roll consisted of just about everything, pictures of you sleeping peacefully against his chest as you would nap, videos of you laughing on the random adventures he would take you on, but never images of you nude. Never ever was he allowed anything that could probably incriminate you both, even if he would beg, ever-so sweetly. It seems like you came around after all. Bless you.

“Fuck, don’t talk to me like that princess, you have no idea what that does to me.” He’s never heard you sound so fucking sexy. Jungkook bites his lip, recovering his phone that had dropped earlier on the carpet. “You sure about this baby?”

“Yes.” Then you are back on his cock and he shudders, already snapping a few pictures. Your eyes looked up at the camera, making a show out of it all.

Jungkook tries controlling his heavy breathing but with a sinful tongue like yours, it’s impossible. “Can I record this princess, only if you’ll let me, of course.”

You take him deeper into your throat and nod furiously on his cock. You trusted him enough, you knew Jungkook could never hurt a single soul, unless they tried him. Point is, he would never do anything to break that trust so hell yeah, why not add more to his long collection.

“God, you are so perfect baby. Made for me and only me.” Jungkook’s voice is nothing short of possessiveness. He presses record, caressing your hair softly, almost petting you for your work like the good girl you were for him. “Imagine if they knew how well you take cock baby. How perfect those plump lips look around my dick. You’re like a dream come true princess, my personal cockslut.” 

You moan around his length, loving the bitter taste on your tongue and Jungkook has to hold back from fucking your throat, though he thinks you’ll love it anyways. 

“Can I fuck your throat?” His voice is raspy and you open your mouth wider, nodding so prettily with dick stuffed in your mouth. Jungkook is careful when placing your hair in a little makeshift ponytail for the meantime and as best as he can with one hand as he starts to thrust into your warm mouth. “So beautiful and all mine. Isn’t that right princess?”

You don’t get to reply, but the vibrations of your moans that manage to run through his cock  answer for you and it almost makes him smile. What a good girl you were. Pretty things like you deserved to be spoiled and he couldn’t wait to give you the fucking world. 

And was he fucking loving the show you were putting on for him becoming more needy and desperate on camera, your eyes rolled as he brutally used your throat for his liking. 

Jungkook bites at his bottom lip as he begins to roll his hips with much more force, feeling your throat take him down with greed. “Fuck baby, your throat feels amazing. Taking me so good.” 

He lets you go when he feels you tap his thigh and you gasp for air, tears threatening to leak down your face. “W-Want you to come on my face.”

Your voice is hoarse and his eyes widen at your sweet request. 

“Aren’t you just perfect for me today baby. Just you wait, you’ll get the best dick of your entire lifetime.” Not that you would know since he was your first and he knows that, proudly carries that in his cocky ego, but you always believed him. No one could fuck you better than this, you were sure. You bat your eyes at his promise and he comes down to kiss you messily, the camera records jackshit, but it captures your whiny moans and the sound of your lips smacking against one another. He pulls off with one last kiss and adjusts the camera frame back towards you as he takes his hard length and slaps his swollen, wet dick along your cheek. “Open up princess, I’m really fucking close.” 

You take him in with no hesitation and go to fucking work. Slurping and licking all over his length, your chin dripping with saliva, but you don’t even care anymore because his grunts and whines keep you going. 

Every now and then you look up at the camera making sure you do your best to keep him coming back. You know he will probably rewatch this every night that you aren’t there with him. And your predictions are correct because Jungkook’s already planning on watching this tonight and jacking off to it while you are out with Karina doing God knows what. All he knows is his sweet girl will be doing something productive while he’ll be coming undone in your gracious honor.

“I’m close baby.” He groans sexily, and his breathing starts to become sharp. “Look up baby, right into the camera, gonna come all over that perfect fucking face.”

Doing as he says, you look up sucking him dry, your hands come to relieve what you can’t cover with your tongue. His hand pushes you off for a second. “Tongue out baby.”

He fucks his fist and it doesn’t take long before he squirts his load all over your face, grateful that most of it lands on your tongue, you swallow it all immediately, humming gracefully at the salty taste. 

Jungkook’s eyes are blown out as he catches his breath and lets his dick flop back down against his thigh, you look like a fucking sin and he must be the Devil because he’s about to commit about thirty tonight. “Give me a second princess.”

He says between breaths as he stops recording with one last picture of your come-soiled face, still breathing heavily as he throws his phone on the floor again, thankful that he has something for later. You giggle against him and he almost awes as you throw your head against his bare thighs into a laughing fit. “Okay.” 

He huffs a dry laugh and pulls you up. “Times up. Come here.” 

Jungkook is quick to capture you in a sloppy kiss, not minding the leftover mess of come on your face, he doesn’t wanna mess up his masterpiece just yet. You soon grow desperate in his arms, but this time he doesn’t mess around. 

“Lay down.” Your bare back lands on the seats and he shoves himself between your thighs. Again, it’s steamy and fucking cramped in your car, but you both couldn’t care any less right now. 

His tongue hits your slit not bothering to move your matching panties, but the effect is almost the same. He licks a long strip watching you soil the silky lace mixing his spit with your own arousal. 

You moan sweetly as your legs come apart letting him completely devour your heat. Jungkook pulls off, tugging your spoiled little black panties to the side and continues on with his mission. His tongue finds your clit and you swear you could come like this. 

“R-Right there. Please.” Your boyfriend doesn’t let up either, eating your sweet pussy like it deserves. His tongue flicks your bud, building the sensation in your tummy. Jungkook sucks on your clit selfishly.

His chin is covered in your arousal. He’s humming and moaning deep inside your pussy, your juices stick onto his tongue like candy and he greedily swallows the treat whole. 

“B-Baby.” Your voice is struggling like his was earlier, but it’s there. He lifts his face from your heat, eyes in a lust-filled trance. Jungkook knows he’s pussy-whipped, but at least he admits his problems!

“Yes, my baby.” Jungkook’s eyes are blown out and he looks just as wrecked as you are. 

“C-Can I take a picture?” He almost gapes at your request, the amount of times you took him by surprise today. At this point, he would let you do anything, fuck his morality!  

“Do whatever you want princess. Pictures, videos. I’m all yours.” He gives you his full consent and permission to do anything so you are quick to grab his phone (you’ll send them over to yourself later) and start snapping pictures while he dives back in for seconds. 

Jungkook keeps your legs open while you are a whimpering mess above him, struggling to get the best picture. You have no idea how he was doing this himself, the pictures come out blurry as he continues to devour you as if it was his last meal.

He also puts on a show for the camera like you did so nicely earlier for him. Jungkoook’s eyes hood as he stares up, he even winks for the shot. If college didn’t ever work out for either of you, this would be something to look into. Good thing that was not the case, at least for you, his little straight A student. 

“I’m g-gonna come.” This only makes your boyfriend go crazier between your folds. He drops eye-contact with the camera and instead solely focuses on that pretty pussy presented for him. Jungkook’s tongue is sin itself, not letting up once as more arousal drips out of you. He slowly teases a finger inside, building your orgasm quickly as he fucks you open with his middle finger. “I’m– nghh. Fuh-fuck!”

The sentence is never finished as you start to squirt onto his tongue, creating your own little masterpiece on his face. Jungkook has never swallowed anything down faster than right now and he’s loving every second of it. Completely pussy-whipped and all, but at least he’s happy!

Your boyfriend finally detaches himself from your heat and the sight is nearly adorable. His hair is now all fucked up and he’s a sticky mess everywhere (you are sure you look no better). 

“Yum, I could do that all day.” Jungkook shamelessly says. 

“Mm, I’m sure.” You say coming down from your own orgasm, he gives you a few seconds to breathe as you set his phone down again. Jungkook takes his shirt from the floor and wipes himself clean. He does the same but it’s no use, the come that landed on your face has dried up and he doesn’t wanna scrub it off and end up hurting your precious face. 

Jungkook kisses your cheek affectionately as an apology. 

“There’s dry come on my face right?” You start to scold him, but he smiles with all his teeth apologetically and you forgive him at that moment. 

“Guilty.” He smirks, proud of his work, he thinks you truly haven't looked better. 

Wrapping arms and legs around your boyfriend you whisper innocently. “I was promised dick of a lifetime, unless… unless you lied to me?”

Jungkook scrunches his nose cutely while he looks at your perfect pouty face, doe-eyes begging to be fucked. “I never lie, not to you at least.”

He makes you laugh and he detangles your legs from his waist. “Now let me focus, I have a reputation to uphold.”

There’s no laughing once two fingers press into you and you gasp at the invading feeling, but the stretch only burns for a while before it turns into pleasure and you are whimpering at his touch. “Fingers so deep.”

He smiles and you throw your head back. “Yeah? My dick goes even deeper baby, I’m just making sure you can take it.”

“I can take it.” You breathe out against his pink lips. “I was made for you.”

The taller’s eyes nearly eat you alive, fuck you were so sexy. “That you were baby. My perfect little cockslut.” 

His fingers pull out of you brutally and you whine, but he kisses you roughly making you forget the loss. A hand wraps around your throat, squeezing it with purpose. You squirm in his hands and he pops off your lips. 

Fingers coated with your arousal trace your lips and you take them in greedily, sucking your own juices off the tattooed fingers, moaning at the delicate taste, his other hand still locked around your throat. 

“That’s my girl. All fucking mine.” You nod around his fingers and he finally lets go, gasping for fresh air. “‘M gonna fuck you now baby.” 

Your legs fly open in response, letting him have his way with you. 

“Do me a favor?” He asks while taking his hard length in his hand, jerking himself off while he awaits your response. 

“What?” You hum, confusion written all over your face. 

“Record this for me. I want you to see how I break you apart. How this pretty pussy makes a mess all over my dick. I want you to remember this fuck for the rest of your life.” His voice drops a few octaves and you can’t help but gasp and moan at his vulgar use of words. 

You used to be innocent, at least, that’s what Jungkook used to think. In a way, he thinks you still are. Untouched and pure, only for his eyes and his hands to touch. Jungkook is honored that he was your first, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. He was gentle and took care of you every step of the way. It was like that until you were begging and pleading for more. Sweet then, and sweet now.

He’s created a little monster, but he knows that your heart is pure and that’s what he loves most about you. 

“Okay, yes.” His phone is back in your hands and you click record, watching him line-up his cock. Jungkook groans as he disappears snuggly inside you. “Mmm.”

He lets you get used to the feeling and once he feels your breathing stabilize he starts to thrust himself with strong strokes inside you. 

Like the first time, you are struggling with the phone because you can’t stop shivering and shaking, you feel him in your guts and recording is much harder than pictures because it lasts longer and you can't stay still for that long. Not with dick inside you.

“K-Kook. I— oh.” You stop to moan when he hits your g-spot and he continues ramming that same spot over and over. “I- I can’t. Hand’s shaking.”

Your sweet boyfriend grabs the phone and lets you settle yourself. “That’s okay princess, I got you. Just lay there, I’ll take care of you.” 

He records himself ramming into you for a few minutes, watching himself disappear into you on camera. The taller one can't even believe this is his reality. How did this even happen and most of all with him of all people? He truly was the luckiest man alive! 

“‘S deep, Kook.” He fondles one of your breasts as he keeps a harsh pace, rubbing the hard nub with his thumb. 

“Yeah baby? Tell me where you feel it.” He whispers loving the way you tremble, your gaze struggling to keep up with his. 

“Right here.” You touch right below your belly, palm flat against the feeling of his cock inside you. “So so deep.” 

You mumble something else, but he doesn’t get to hear it because your high pitched moans drown everything out. He lets go of your breast watching them bounce as he continues to pound straight into your sweet spot. 

The camera catches it all though. The mess between your thighs look just as delicious on film as they do in real time. The sounds you make, the squelching noise that is being created by his cock going deep inside you, and most of all, it captures your beautiful face as it comes apart. 

He presses on your stomach right where your own palm rests and you strangle out a whine. “I- I can’t. T-Too much.” 

“You can take it. Remember?” His dick tears through you from the inside and you start yelling when he increases his pace. He’s fucking you mercilessly now and you can’t control the sounds that escape. “You were made for me, princess.”

“Yes, yes, I am.” You sound beautiful, but you would kill him if you guys got caught now especially in the position you guys are in. 

His firm hand finally comes off your stomach and instead two fingers go inside your mouth, muffling your screams and whines. 

The car rocks back and forth. He’s sure people know what the fuck is going on, the windows are foggy as fuck, for fuck’s sake, but you would hate him much worse for not finishing you off.

“Mmff, don— stopff.” He nearly giggles as you struggle to speak, but he keeps his promise quite well. He fucks you ever harder and deeper, his cock will surely fall off after this, but it’s all worth it. He slams inside, bottoming out fully before pulling out and repeating the same steps. “Fuhh-uk.”

“You like that baby?” Jungkook rasps feeling you squeeze tightly around him, which only means one thing, you are really fucking close. “Gonna come all over my cock princess?” 

“Mmff.” You are quick to nod and hum sweetly. He decides to pull his fingers out, spit dripping all over. “Yes, yes. Please, don’t stop. Harder Kook- ah!”

Jungkook almost forgets he’s recording and he centers the camera again, wanting to capture every last second of this. You are glistening all over, he’s made a complete mess of you, but he is no better. Jungkook is dripping sweat and yet, that doesn’t stop his mean and precise strokes against your velvet walls, stretching you in ways you didn’t even know were possible. 

The final straw is when you feel his messy fingers start toying with your clit and you are coming once again all over your back seats and wetting his cock just how he likes it. Being a squirter had its own perks with a boyfriend like Jungkook because that meant he never stopped fucking you until you completely had nothing more to give. 

Jungkook curses when he starts to see your orgasm trinkle out, he fucks you all through it though, feeling the water-like pressure against his slit. And it doesn’t take long before an orgasm catches up to him. 

“Inside.” You plead with a pout, eyes completely blown out. 

With one last curse Jungkook comes deep inside your walls. He catches his breath for a few moments before pulling out slowly, making sure to capture the dribble of his come which sadly hangs onto your hole. “Push it out for me princess.” 

“Nooo, we’re gonna make a mess Kook.” Jungkook shakes his head, a smile on his face because a mess has already been made. 

“I’ll clean it. Now, push it out baby.” You almost cover your face because you are sure you turned red, but you start to push his seed out of your hole and he’s tempted to fuck it back inside. 

“Fuck. That’s it baby. Perfect comeslut. Isn’t that right?” He stops recording once he’s gotten the shot he wanted and he starts to wipe you down with his shirt, lucky enough that he has a back-up hoodie to cover him after he’s done. 

“Yes, all yours.” 

You both smile against each other’s lips before he whispers. “I love you princess.” 

“I love you more.” 

“Impossible baby.”

—-

JK❤️: hiiii 🙂

me: hi baby :) everything okay?

JK❤️: marvelous 😇 i just came watching that video we took earlier ;))

me: baby! 😠  i'm out with karina! can you not talk about sex for two seconds while im out

JK❤️: sure! just came all over myself totally wasn't watching our sextape back ;)))

me: nice talk jungkook.

JK❤️: come home soon~~ i miss you :((((

me: love you too lol

JK❤️: not more than me. come home soon im serious!!!

me: i'll see you later jungkook. ❤️

JK❤️: 😠😠😠 

me: ❤️❤️❤️

[voidstateho]

STOP ASKING OTHERS TO ENTER THE VOID FOR YOU.

TOUGH LOVE. NOT BLAMING ANYONE OR ACCUSING: THIS POST IS ALL /LH 💜

i just saw a 🙃 post saying "all people who entered the void are selfish because my life sucks and so do others so you MUST ! enter the void for me! and them."

homie! We are entering the void for ourselves, and if you want to, you can enter for others. The void is supposed to be fun. You are the one being SELFISH by demanding people enter the void to manifest for yourself and thousands of others. Why are you yelling at them when you cant log off tumblr for one second? I know you are angry. your conditions probably suck ass. I GET IT. this is coming from someone who's never entered the void but posts revelations on here for help and has gotten SO CLOSE. want to know whats gotten me close? i logged off for a bit. touched grass/lh even. i stopped being jealous of others. I worked on myself and my mindset and now the void is so easy I might as well be there. Why are you so trusting of others that you DEMAND them to enter the void for you and to harass and blame bloggers when YOU 🫵🏻 can't even trust yourself to enter. TW!: Ik you are suicidal i get it. I have an abusive mom who gave me situational depression and I have to wait to join the military bc of it to get off my meds. Im working my ass off to transfer bc my home is abusive and when I go back i always gain like 10 pounds from stress existing there. My mom is the sole reason for my OCD and attempts. But you know what i don't do? Blame other successful bloggers and demand they solve everyone else's problem and act like people are suffering bc they wont enter the void for them like they are the hero's who are ignoring you to change your world. Im not trying to be harsh on you. Leave them alone. Let them enjoy their success because they deserve to and aren't selfish. They DID SOMETHING. Relearn Loa, get a job if you can, touch grass-perhaps/j? This might be harsh. But I needed this back then too. Read a book watch a movie or something. Watch like, the Matrix, im serious it has a lot of LOA references. Have FUN with the void and quit yelling at these bloggers when they are trying to help you, not solve your problems. They are not the reason for you and others problems. They cannot help you but they CAN give advice which they post, and motivation; use it. let me make this clear: you can enter the void with a bad mental mindset. you are not running out of time. or you need to back off the app and take a break and forget about it, heal and come back from it. Yall seriously making me angry for these creators, i used to be a jealous mf as well. But im close bc i healed. Be patient with yourself. Take care of yourself.

YOU AND YOUR MENTAL HEALTH, HEALTH IN GENERAL COME FIRST BEFORE SHIFTING OR VOID OR WHATEVER.

Thanks 🤝

-Tired mf seeing others be blamed for not saving the mf world and being called selfish for it. Let them rest and have peace. You're ignorant as well but seriously anyone can enter, we all are the same. I believe in you if you don't believe in yourself. You will be fine. 💜💯💯

[duuhrayliegh]

equal and opposite (consequences, pt. 2)

a/n: first of all, yall really showed out with the comments and reblogs on the first part of this so THANK YOU SO MUCH like i haven't written anything that i felt was good in months so to have such an overwhelmingly positive response to that post felt amazing!!!!

if you haven’t read part one, i highly recommend checking that out first!!!!

anyway, i hadn't originally intended for this to go anywhere else, but as i've said before bartender!bucky & peanut just wouldn't go away so here we are!!! i hope this lives up to the expectations and if we want more PLEASE LET ME KNOW I LIVE TO PLEASE

“Can you please just sit down? I don’t understand what’s happening to us!”

“That’s the problem!”

He throws his hands above his head out of exasperation. They land on his hips as their new resting place and he levels you with a frustrated glare. A glare. Apparently, you’re not worth the energy it takes to filter the emotions from his tone or expressions. That luxury must be saved for his plethora of mistresses.

“You don’t understand me anymore!”

“Understand you?”

Going home has become harder and harder. Despite desperately wanting to fix your marriage, it seems your efforts might have been in vain. No matter how hard you try, your husband has made every effort to avoid having a real conversation with you. To say you’re at your wit's end would be generous.

“Yes! Coming home to you is too stressful for me. I’m in the office all week and then I come home to a wife who doesn’t put in any effort to make herself desirable for me.”

Your jaw dropped, as did the wooden spoon in your hand. His words float through your head on repeat. That voice you used to love, the same voice that vowed to always love and cherish you in his wedding vows. Now, you’re cooking for a man you don’t know.

“Then why stay with me? If I’m so clearly not what you want, why stay?”

There’s a drawn out silence that is accompanied by softly heaving breaths and the simmering pot of homemade spaghetti sauce.

“You’re what I want in a wife. You just don’t understand my needs in the way that Shelia does.”

Your blood boils. Shelia—the latest girlfriend in a string of girlfriends. How dare he? You turn to the stove and begin clicking everything off. You fume while gathering your purse and keys to a home that you no longer feel welcome in.

“This is why I didn’t want to get into this. You’re too emotional and I knew you’d play the victim whenever I’m suffering too!”

You roll your eyes, refusing to engage because you’ll only hurt yourself more. Instead, you pry the door open and slam it shut before trekking off down the hallway.

You don’t have a plan, all you know is that you need to get out. You’re lucky that you were wearing a hoodie and jeans whenever you started getting into it with John. It’s not the first time that you had to get out, so you’ve learned over the past few months.

Wind whips against your cheeks when you exit your apartment building. You pull your hood over your head and start walking aimlessly. You reach for your phone and dial the first number you think of.

You never stop walking, street lamps lighting the sidewalk with a pale yellow light. There’s an irritating sting starting behind your eyes that you refuse to acknowledge. You don’t have to listen to the trilling of the phone line for long before it’s interrupted.

“Commando’s. How can I help you?”

The music in the bar is loud enough that you can clearly make out Steve’s divorced dad rock playlist. A rush of relief shoots down your spine and you breathe a sigh while enjoying the subtle ambiance through your phone speaker.

“Hello?”

It’s only then that you realize you’ve been on the phone for the past thirty seconds without saying anything.

“Bucky?”

“Peanut?”

“Hi, uh--I didn't have your number and I didn't know who else to call."

"Hang on, Peanut. I'm here, hang on." Suddenly the music is reduced to a bouncing bass line. "Are you okay?"

You continue walking, breathing in the stale air of the city as you debate your answer. For the most part, sure, you're okay. You’re not physically harmed in any way, just a deep emotional hurt that persists through the stark cold of the air around you. But if someone looked twice, or you spend more than half a second around someone you're comfortable with, that answer wouldn’t hold water.

"The wheels, Peanut, I can hear them. I need you to answer me. Are you okay?"

Bucky's voice is soft and grounding. Your heartbeat starts to match the steady baseline of the bar's music.

"I'm okay?"

Bucky's soft laugh echoes through the phone speaker, "That sounded like a question more than an answer, Peanut." He then pauses and sighs, "What did he do now?"

You suck in a sharp breath, debating on how to answer his question. The lead weight that had previously settled in your stomach begins to lessen as you hear Bucky’s voice.

On the one hand, Bucky has become the person you feel the most comfortable with. You don't have anyone close to you in the city because you moved out here to support John's career. Your family is on the other side of the country, and it's not like you've had a whole lot of time to build a support system here.

On the other, Bucky didn't sign up for this. He didn't sign up for a broken wife that isn't even his! You have no connection to him outside of becoming a regular at his bar and forming a possibly misguided attraction.

“Peanut? Come on back to me."

“Sorry, Buck. I just—“ you trail off, not entirely sure how to handle yourself.

“Don’t worry about it, Peanut Butter.” You laugh softly at the lengthier version of your nickname while he continues talking. “Look, how about we meet somewhere so we can talk?”

“Aren’t you working tonight though? I can just come to the bar.”

No matter how appealing Bucky’s offer is, you don’t want him to risk his livelihood for you. You aren’t worth that, not really.

“Not anymore, Pea. You’re more important to me. The guys here can handle the bar while I leave to take care of my Ps and Qs.”

You giggle again, unsure of where he comes up with these iterations.

“There she is.”

The words are murmured low, as if he was just speaking to himself. As if it’s a remark not meant for public consumption, just a murmur of his adoration.

“There’s a little hole in the wall on 115th and North. It’s called Winnie’s. Meet me there and you can talk for however long they’re serving coffee.”

"Don't diners always serve coffee?"

"They sure do. And Winnie's is a 24-hour diner. Which means," There's a loud shuffle on his end of the phone and then his voice cuts through. "you can talk to me for as long as you want, Peanut."

"Thank you, Bucky." You aren't as loud as you meant to be, but you know he hears you when he hums before you end the call.

Shoving the phone in the pocket of your jacket, you search for street signs.

And now you stand in front of Winnie's, a sixties diner straight off a movie set. Bright neon illuminates the street below, bathing you in a turquoise light that you're sure is not at all flattering. The front door is encased in chrome and vinyl covers the seating throughout the restaurant.

You push through the front doors and spy a large jukebox on the left side of the building. There's no host stand, so you peer around the seats in search of your bartender.

"Welcome to Winnie's. hun! Just take a seat, we'll be right with ya!"

An older woman yells from behind the bar top. Her graying hair is pulled into a neat bun at the base of her neck and you're just about to read her nametag when you hear a familiar voice.

"Peanut! This-a-way!" Bucky stands from a booth in the corner, grabbing your attention and everyone else in the restaurant.

A bright blush colors your cheeks as you make your way to his booth in the corner. The linoleum floor of the diner becomes increasingly interesting the closer you find yourself to Bucky. To be completely truthful, you've never seen Bucky outside of the bar, so this is a jarring, but welcome experience.

He's still wearing those annoyingly large boots and tight white shirt that never fails to distract you when you're sitting on the twirly bar stools. His metal arm is on full display, the gold in-lay catching the light as he twists a straw wrapper into a tight spiral.

Bucky stands to greet you once you reach the booth, leaning toward you and wrapping you in his warm embrace. Your breath catches at his sudden body heat, but you waste no time in curling your arms around his torso.

"This might be the dumbest and most obvious question, but," he pulls back from the hug and gestures toward the seat across from him, "how’re you doing?"

A stifled laugh escapes as you settle into the worn vinyl seat. Instead of answering, you pull a less-than-convincing smile that you know Bucky can see right through. Evidenced by the fact that he laughs sarcastically at the look of it.

"Yeah, thought as much."

"It's just all becoming too much, I think."

An older woman brings two coffee mugs to the table, gripping a half-full coffee pot in her other hand. You stop yourself before you divulge anything in the presence of strangers. You don't need to burden another random stranger with your problems, Bucky is more than enough.

“Who's your friend, Jamie?"

Bucky smiles while introducing you to the woman. He extends the same courtesy to you, placing the name of the woman in front of you.

"Peanut, this is Winnie. She's the owner and operator of Winnie's diner."

Bucky pours a healthy dose of sugar into your coffee mug and then drops a spoon into it before pushing it across to you. You're in the middle of taking a large sip of the hot drink when Bucky continues talking.

"She's also my mother."

“Oh!"

He laughs as you sputter, completely phased by his nonchalance about introducing you to his mother. To be fair, you don’t really know Bucky outside of him being a great listener and mixologist. Winnie laughs and talks with the both of you before politely excusing herself to take care of her other customers.

“Your mother?”

Bucky leans forward and locks eyes with you.

“I’m so sorry. She wasn’t meant to be working today, but you would have met her one way or another.”

There he goes again, that dizzying nonchalance that bleeds into every word he speaks. Your mouth opens to speak, but you're still in a state of stunned that has you stumbling on your words.

"I'm just kidding, Nutter Butter." Bucky laughs and you hum while picking at your cuticles.

"Sorry, just took me by surprise."

"Clearly."

Bucky glances at your hands that are resting on the table and shifts around his side of the booth. There's a brief moment of silence as you mull over what Winnie has said.

"Did she call you 'Jamie'?"

Bucky lets out a loud laugh. One of those laughs that sounds like the feeling snuck up on everyone, including the person laughing.

"That's what you focused on, Peanut?"

You're smiling more in the past five minutes with Bucky than you have in the past five months with John. Bucky stops shuffling and then removes his coffee cup from the saucer it sits on. He slides the tiny plate toward you as you talk.

"Thank you for meeting me, Buck. Like I said, I think I'm just getting too tired of his bullshit. He really came at me today with the attitude that this is all my fault." Bucky nods as you continue speaking, "As if I'm the one who asked for an open marriage."

Bucky reveals a Ziplock bag and dumps the contents of it into the saucer in front of you. You're just about to start a rant when he nudges a salty shell into your hands. You glance down for half a second before getting the ball rolling.

"John asked for this! He's the one that's causing all this... this turmoil in our relationship. I haven't gone on a single date! I haven't caused a single issue. All I've been trying to do is understand things from his point of view, but he won't even give me the time of day to do that. I can't even suggest something like marriage counseling because he runs out the door the second he sees me enter a goddamn room."

You stop to take another long sip of your coffee while Bucky sits back and lets you rant at him across from yet another counter. You can see him chewing on the inside of his cheek, clearly holding back from saying something.

"I don't even know what to do anymore!" You huff and shove your hair over your shoulder. "What do you think?"

"Do you want my honest opinion or do you want me to just be here for you?"

"I want you to be you."

"Okay." Bucky nods, you crack open yet another peanut and place the shell on a napkin next to the plate. "I think you should start considering divorcing ol' Johnny boy."

"I can't do that."

Your response is immediate. Too quick to be healthy really. The shell of the peanut cracks between your fingers, revealing the salty perfection inside.

"Alright, divorce is off the table. How do you feel about separation?"

"No."

"Why?"

"It goes against everything I was raised to believe. I was brought up under the idea that the person you marry is the person you stick next to no matter what."

"Even when that person isn't extending the same courtesy?"

"I just--" You sniffle, peeling open yet another peanut. "I just want to be loved, Bucky. I don't understand what I did to make him look for love and affection from someone other than me."

Bucky reaches across the table and covers your hand with his, rubbing his thumb against your knuckles soothingly. You found yourself in this same position three months ago. It was when Bucky first told you of his interest in dating you.

To be perfectly honest, you were about two slow blinks away from folding into his arms then. Nothing's changed. You're still half a second from completely melting for the man before you, but you can't get over the fact that you're married.

"Peanut, you may never understand his reasoning. Especially when he won't sit down and explain anything to you. I think you should do what's in your best interest. If you don't want to divorce or separate, then you need to surround yourself with people who will give you that love and affection that you need."

A soft lull coats the pair of you and you allow your eyes to lock with Bucky's. What you find there shocks you.

Pity is something that you never, ever want to experience, but with a shitty situation like your marriage, you've come to expect it. Every time you glance in a mirror or catch your reflection in a store window, or even a puddle of water, you find your own eyes layered with that sickening sadness that accompanies self-pity.

However, in Bucky's clear blue eyes, you find nothing but determination. Determination for what is the question you're now faced with. In all reality, Bucky has no dog in this fight. He has no reason to be helping you the way that he has. Bucky's expressed interest in you, sure, but that doesn't constitute going to the lengths that he does.

"I just want you to be happy."

"Do you think you could make me happy?"

"Absolutely."

You nod while popping the last peanut into your mouth and wiping your hands off on your jeans. You stand unceremoniously and then hold your hand out to Bucky. He stares at your outstretched hand in half-baked shock and then jumps at the opportunity.

"See ya later, Ma! Love ya."

"Will you be home for family dinner?"

"Nope, gotta take my Peanut to the ballgame!"

Bucky rushes you out of the diner and pulls you to a heavy-looking motorcycle. You laugh as he pries open one of the saddlebags on the bike. He reveals two helmets, one white and one black. Both have sleek features with a face cover that reflects Bucky's sharp features.

"What?" His laugh that follows is full of nervous energy as you continue to laugh. "What's so funny?"

"It just--" You snort quietly, "You would drive a motorcycle."

"Oh yeah? And why's that, Peanut Brittle?"

You wave your hand as if you're circling his whole body and shrug while smiling your ass off.

"You just gestured to all of me."

You both break into a fit of laughter, only for Bucky to break it off and unclip the chin strap of the white helmet.

"Well, does safety also fit with..." he does the same gesture as you, "all this?"

Bucky gently rests the helmet on the leather seat of the motorcycle and then leans over to you.

"You might want to pull your hair back. Trust me I love your hair down, but whenever you're riding it's easier in the long run."

"Oh, okay." You begin to pull your hair back when you remember that your hair tie is on the counter at your apartment. "Actually, I think I'll suffer the consequences."

Bucky glances at you and then asks, "You need a tie?"

He prompts you to turn around and he quickly coaxes your hair into a neat ponytail at the base of your neck. You turn back to him with wide eyes, your hand reaching back to check the hairstyle.

"Come on. I've got plans, Payday! I've got ideas to romance ya!"

You laugh while Bucky beams and puts the white helmet over your head. Once it's secured, he swipes the visor up and boops your nose. You scrunch it in retaliation and he shakes his head at you. He grips the sides of your helmet and tilts your head to the side. A loud Bluetooth signal sounds and a robotic female voice informs you that the device has been connected.

"So, basic rules of the bike. I lean, you lean." He taps on the side of the helmet he just fiddled with. "This is a microphone, so we'll be able to communicate without the visors being up. Don't be afraid to squeeze if you feel a little wobbly. I promise I can handle whatever you give me, Peanut."

You flush at his words, thankful that you're already wearing the helmet so he isn't privy to the bright red coloring overtaking your cheeks. Bucky slips on his own helmet and mounts the bike in one smooth motion. His hands glide to the handlebars and then he turns to face you and jerk his head in the opposite direction.

You release a deep breath and give yourself a mini pep talk before placing your hands on Bucky's shoulders. The difference between them keeps you grounded as you swing your leg over the back of the motorcycle. His voice shoots into your ears, a breathy fuck me that wasn't meant for your ears.

"You ready?"

This question is at a normal level, and you respond in kind. The bike roars to life beneath you and you jolt toward him, arms immediately wrapping around his waist tightly.

"Hold on tight, spider monkey."

You giggle and interlock your fingers above the waistline of his jeans. Now, you can feel every breath he takes, every minuscule contraction of his muscles from every movement he makes to control the beast between his legs. You try to take steady breaths in order to control your heartbeat and match Bucky's, but the faster he goes, the faster your heart beats against his back.

City lights blur past as you find your rhythm behind Bucky. The more comfortable you get, the looser your grip becomes around him. He takes you through downtown with all the newer, hipster restaurants inhabiting the busy streets. Bucky begins to slow and you look up to see his profile illuminated under the bright red of the traffic stop.

His feet rest on the ground beside the bike, holding it upright while it rumbles idly. Bucky leans back into you, his hands moving from the handlebars to your thighs. He traces the skin that's exposed by the rips of your jeans. The loose material allows just enough space for his fingers to burrow beneath and trace meaningless patterns into your skin.

Butterflies make themselves known in the pit of your stomach, along with another slightly less prominent heat building at his touch on your skin.

"We're almost there, Peanut Brittle." Bucky's voice is melodic through the microphone. You could fall asleep listening to him read a phone book.

The bike thunders to life again as Bucky releases the clutch. More buildings fade as he continues to steer the two of you down the less traveled streets.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Somewhere fun!"

He laughs at your little groan. Surprises aren't necessarily your favorite thing, but if it's Bucky, maybe it'll be tolerable.

Suddenly, Bucky drops his right hand from the bars and indicates his next turn. The pair of you lean in that direction slightly as he slows into a parking lot of a roller rink. The sign for the Rockin' Roller Rink has a bright yellow arrow blinking toward the building at the base of its billboard.

He rolls into a parking spot near the entrance and pops the kickstand out to steady the bike. You peel yourself off of his back and rest your hands on your thighs while taking in your surroundings. Bucky slips his helmet off and then turns his torso to face you.

"As much as I love you on my ride, Peanut, you have to get off first."

You flush red beneath the visor and quickly dismount. However, in your rush to get off, you don't realize how unstable your legs are as they bear your full weight after the ride. Bucky's hands shoot out to your waist as he remains on the bike, a wry grin on his lips.

"Sorry, should've warned you about that." He stands in front of you and dusts off your shoulders before deciding that you're okay. "It's because of the riding position when you're on the bike. If you aren't used to that, it can be a little jarring the first few times."

He takes your helmet and then removes the keys from the ignition. Bucky bends at the waist and hooks his key carabiner to your belt loops.

As he straightens to his full height, he remarks with a wink, "Plus, the vibrations don't help much either."

You squawk unattractively and smack his chest with the back of your hand while he belly laughs. His metal hand hovers over your lower back as he guides you into the double doors of the roller rink. While he pulls open the door for you, you think about all the times that your husband has failed to do even that act of basic decency.

You shake your head as you walk in, determined to put him out of your mind. That is until you remember the one stipulation of your open marriage--you both have to disclose when you go on dates. Your mind drifts to all the unanswered texts he's sent you about his various dates. Little quips that accomplish nothing but remind you that your husband sees you as less than. A relationship that he no longer has to put effort into and hasn't for some time now. You take your phone from your back pocket to shoot John a quick text, a sour look overtaking your face as you do.

On a date, be home later. You’re quick to swipe your phone onto do not disturb and shove it back into your pocket. You aren’t ready to face the hypocrisy that John will manage to cook up.

"You okay, Peanut?" Bucky's voice clears everything. All the swirling doubt, the immense turmoil that you feel when you think of John, everything negative is wiped when you focus on Bucky.

Perhaps that's also an issue. Maybe you need to be single instead of dating. Maybe you need to love yourself before anyone else can effectively love you. What if that's the real issue? The real reason why John had to seek affection outside of your marital bonds. Maybe it was because you were so unloveable to the point that it was more effort to work through your issues than find an effortless partner somewhere else.

A cold finger taps your temple causing you to blink harshly and refocus on the man before you. This man who's become your safe haven, your harbor in this horrific storm that is your marriage. The man who brings peanuts to his mother's diner because you called him to meet up. The man who knows you better than your husband who you've known for half your life.

"The wheels," your bartender reminds you as he pulls you to the side of the room. His arms envelop you until all you can process is biceps, one cold and one warm. Bucky's cheek rests against your head and you can't find it in yourself to stop from melting into his touch. "How about this," he shifts away from you just enough to meet your eyes, "you just take it one hour at a time?"

"One hour?" You ask, brows furrowing skeptically at the concept. You've never been someone who just focuses on the thing in front of you. Your whole life you had a plan--get married, have kids, and secure a stable home life. Although, now that you think about it, your way isn't really that effective. What has your way got you? A decaying marriage, no kids, and a job that you tolerate at most.

"Just one at a time. Nothing can be that daunting if it's one at a time." He smiles big and leans forward, "And let's face it, your first hour is going to be spent watching me almost bust my ass on rollerblades."

You giggle and look at the ground, only for Bucky to lift your face up with a finger on your chin. He stares deep into your eyes, making you think if you stare long enough, you'll meld into one. His grip changes so that most of his fingers cup your jaw, allowing his thumb to trace your bottom lip. His metal finger tugs downward on your lip, releasing it from the hold between your teeth.

"That's definitely one of my current favorite noises you make." He struts off to the front counter, you trailing behind with a confused look on your face at his dopey smile. The implications of his comment seeping into your bones causing a deep heat to light in the pit of your stomach.

As you approach the teller, Bucky's already disclosed his shoe size for the rental pair of skates. The teenager behind the counter makes a bored grunt at the instruction and turns to you, waiting for your size before they trot off to fill the order. Once again, you're left alone with your bartender.

You lean against the raised platform, shoulder digging into the overhanging lip of the counter. During this brief moment of solitude, you take your time taking in Bucky. He really is a mountain of a man, coming in at six-foot-five inches of corded muscle and steel, he's really nothing less than impressive.

His hair just brushes the top of his broad shoulders, though you hardly ever see it down. He always manages to have it tied securely at the base of his neck. However one time, you remember walking into the bar only to see Bucky behind the bar, as usual. Except his hair was bundled on the top of his head. Little wisps of hair fell from the looser hold, framing his forehead and neck. On top of that, he was wearing a red henley that was at least two sizes too small with the sleeves rolled up, showing off his differing forearms in the dim light of Commandos.

It's safe to say that during those few hours you spent with Bucky looking like that, you were a little slower to respond. What's interesting though is that Bucky looks nothing like John. You always thought that John was your ideal man. Based on who you married, you would have assumed you'd be more attracted to Steve than Bucky. Instead, you find yourself lacing up a pair of rental roller skates, that might give you athlete's foot if you're not careful, with the imposing dark-haired man next to you.

"Why bartending?"

The question floats between you as you take the floor. Glistening hardwood reflects the bright neon of the strobe lights and your image beside Bucky. You watch as he glances down at you before refocusing his attention on the path in front of him.

"Well, if I'm being honest, I kind of stumbled into it." He wobbles dangerously as he speaks, hand jutting out to grasp yours in an act of safety. "Shit, sorry." He apologizes sheepishly but makes no move to drop your hand.

You giggle beside him, butterflies awakening from his act of self-comfort, a feeling you haven't felt since your relationship with John began. Bucky squeezes your hand, straightens his back, and pulls you around the rink.

"When I was discharged, it wasn't so much as bartending as it was the ownership of the bar. It gave me a chance to gain some semblance of control back." He stares off into the distance as he speaks as if he's reciting words he said time and time before. You peer up at him, waiting for the rest of his explanation.

Even though you've known Bucky for as long as you have, neither of you has really delved too deep into your pasts. To say you know next to nothing about Bucky's time in the military would be generous. You hum while you ponder his answer.

"Does that need carry into other aspects of your life?"

It's a genuine question, something to move the conversation along because you honestly want to know more about the man beside you. The double entendre of the question doesn't process until you see Bucky blushing beside you with a wry grin. Your eyes bulge, words stammering out of your mouth without finding their full forms.

"Oh-- uh, n— that's not wh--" Your eyes drop to the ground beneath you, the sleek wood reflecting the neon disco of the roller rink lights.

Bucky chuckles beside you, slowly rubbing his thumb against the knuckles of the hand he still holds. He steers the pair of you to the side of the rink, locking you against the slightly sticky bannister with his strong forearms. You quickly level him with a questioning stare as he leans forward and takes a deep breath, undoubtedly getting a strong whiff of your soft vanilla and cherry perfume.

“I’m trying to be very good for you, Peanut. So I’m going to say this once and then we’re going to continue with our date and it isn’t going to come up again until you bring it up yourself.” Your nod is almost imperceptible, but considering how Bucky continues without consequence, you figure he was just mentally preparing himself for his next comment.

“I am enamored with you. I want to have sex with you. I have fantasies that revolved exclusively around you. However, I’m not putting any pressure on this relationship or you. I understand that you need time to process your grief and your marriage, but just know that I’m more than happy to help you through the process and I certainly hope that I’m the first one you go to once you get to a place when you feel confident enough to explore your sexuality.”

You flush at his words, a hot streak racing up your spine before settling in your cheeks, blossoming them into a heavy shade of crimson. Bucky’s left hand comes up to your forehead, brushing away a strand of hair out of your face.

“But not only that, I want to have a relationship with you. I want the late night cuddles. I want the early morning breakfasts. I want to come home from the bar and take a shower with you. I want to wash your hair. I want you to massage my shoulders after a long day. I want to host Saturday barbecues with you for my family and our friends. I want to drive you to the bookstore and regret driving the motorcycle after you get so many because I just can’t say no to you.”

Bucky’s hand drifts down your arm, tracing the soft skin, taking his time to lace his fingers with yours. He pulls you away from the ledge, leading you two into the hustle and bustle of the roller rink. A smile stretches across his features as he tugs you along, a slow steady silence backed by the bumping base of the house music. You fumble with who to respond to him, but you eventually decide that no words are necessary. You know that yiu’ll be able to discuss things further later, you allow yourself to fall into the comfortable company that is your favorite bartender.

Time passes by at a rate you aren’t able to fathom. One moment you’re skating circles around Bucky, laughing as his arms jut out to his sides, steadying himself as he sways and wobbles. You flit out of his reach for a beat only for his arms to wrap around your waist, bringing you to his warm front. You squeal as you clutch his arms, the difference in temperature providing a level of comfort that you’ve been craving for months now.

You tilt your head back to rest on his shoulder, his long hair tickling the apples of your cheek. Soft puffs of air hit your face as he peers down at you, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips. He remains stoic, only his eyes giving you any indication that he wants more out of your current embrace.

“Attention all Rockin’ Roller Rink patrons, the rink will be closing in ten minutes! Please return all skates and other rentals to the front desk before leaving.”

The voice over the loudspeaker startles you causing you to jump in Bucky’s embrace. He tightens his hold on you, ensuring that you don’t topple over on your wheels. You breathe out a heavy sigh creating a slight distance between you.

“Come on, let’s go.”

Bucky is quick to follow you to the benches on the side to you could change your shoes so you can return the skates. You’re sure to take out your phone from your back pocket before sitting down. Against your better judgement, you swipe across the screen to turn off the silencing option. The screen illuminates and dozens of notifications flood the screen and you cringe. You shouldn’t feel bad, yore only doing what constitutes an open marriage. You sent the text, that was all that was required of you, and let’s be honest even that was more than what John deserves. Bucky leans back, shooting a glance at your now busy phone.

“Wow, he sure doesn’t miss a beat, does he?”

“Yeah, I’m sure everything he’s texted me the past two hours has been entirely supportive and not at all condescending or hostile.” Sarcasm bleeds into your words, making Bucky chuckle under his breath.

“Oh, ol’ Johnny boy? Nah, he’s nothing but a big old softy who knows that he’s only getting it as good as he’s giving it.” You huff at the comment just as your phone begins to buzz on the tabletop.

A groan leaves your mouth, slipping out before you can filter it. Bucky eyes you as your finger swipes the call button to accept. You haven’t even gotten the phone to your ear before John’s voice carries through the speaker, shouting expletives and derogatory remarks about you.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re on a fucking date right now? I can’t believe you!”

Your whole body cringes, and you rush to shove your shoes on to take the call outside. You leave without saying a word to Bucky, unable to look him in the eye while the supposed love of your life berates you over the phone.

“John, I don’t know what you’re upset about.” You tried to remain calm while he carried on. “I followed the single rule that you set in place.”

Bucky takes your free hand and leads you to his bike, leaning against the seat while he watches you pace in front of him. Your once smooth features are now ridged and tense, worry lines aging you ten years the second you get on the phone with John. Your forefinger and thumb find home on the bridge of your nose, pinching the bone there to prevent the sudden headache. You finally stop in your tracks, stomping your foot out of exasperation and then steel your voice.

“I refuse to allow you to speak to me this way, John. You’re the one that opened our marriage, I’m simply following the precedent that you set. I honestly have no idea what your issue with this is.” Your eyes dart to Bucky, “Now, I don’t feel comfortable coming home when you’re speaking to me like this over the phone, so don’t wait up. I’ll come home when you cool off.”

Tears begin to rim your lash line as John continues to shout his lungs bloody. You refuse to meet Bucky’s eyes as you lower the phone, thumb hovering over the end call button. A dark metal palm extends your way, a silent ask for the phone that you don’t have the strength to deny. Bucky watches you as he brings the phone to his ear, listening to your husband’s rant.

“This is completely fucking ridiculous! You’re my wife and I demand you come home and we talk this out like adults. You’re being so unreasonable, right now. And the fact that you think it’s acceptable to text me you’re on a date instead of asking if you could go on one? Who the fuck do you think you are? It’s best you remember who you belong to. You’re so in for it whe—“

Bucky laughs, your head shoots up, eyes locking with his for the first time since you’ve evacuated the roller rink. The laugh is a short, sardonic laugh. One you’ve never heard him make before, almost as if he’s using it as a throat clear. Your breath catches in your throat, knowing how John reacts to being challenged in any capacity.

“Now, I don’t know who you think you are, talking to my Peanut the way that you are. But I’ll tell you one thing for damn sure, you aren’t going to be speaking to her that way ever again.”

It’s another thing about Bucky you’ve never experienced. His tone. It’s dull, lifeless, but full threats that made your skin grow cold and your spine stiffen. You knew Bucky would never cause you harm, but those who hurt the people he loved? The same respect isn’t extended.

“And who the fuck is this?”

“I’m the guy.”

He’s eerily calm, the type of calm you’ve never seen him. You’ve been a distant onlooker while he deals with rowdy bar guests, having to throw out drunk customers who reached their limit and then some. But this… this was something else. John is still yelling, sure to be disturbing your neighbors earning you yet another noise complaint, possibly the one that gets you evicted from your apartment.

“What guy?”

“The guy that’s going to rip your spine out through your throat if you threaten my girl again.”

The world stills. The noisy streets of Brooklyn fade as you search Bucky’s eyes for any semblance of a joke. His eyes have darkened, latching onto yours with a depth that you’ve never seen in them. He reaches for you, pulling you in between his legs by your belt loop. You can hear the stammering on the other end clearly, John’s never had anyone stand up to him with such sincerity.

“If you’re done being a pussy, I’m a little preoccupied. If you’d like to continue this conversation, you may do so anytime at my bar. Howling Commandos. You can Google it and me in your free time. Right now, I’m on a date and you’re interrupting it and disturbing my girl.” Bucky’s hand snakes around your waist, pressing his chin to your chest while maintaining eye contact with you. “Now, apologize to her.”

He switches the phone to speaker mode, allowing you to hear the weakness invading John’s voice. All the while, Bucky’s eyes never leave yours. Your body melts into him, his warmth something that you didn’t realize you were craving. John stammers on his end of the phone, eking out excuses as to not apologize. Bucky clears his throat once more, the action causing his Adam’s apple to bob against your breasts.

“Apologize, Johnny boy.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Three monotonous beeps echo out into the silent parking lot. Wind whips against your cheeks, igniting a shiver through your body. He shoves your phone into his front pocket before wrapping his other hand around your waist. Bucky shifts again, pressing his forehead into your stomach instead of staring up at you. Your arms come up around his shoulders, burying your face into his soft hair.

“Thank you.”

Bucky says nothing in return, squeezing your middle before pulling back to meet your gaze.

“Let’s go, you can stay at mine.”

He pushes against your hips so he can reposition himself over the bike. You’re quick to stop him, remarking something about him just taking you to a hotel for the night. He cuts you off before you can fully finish your sentence.

“I’m sorry Peanut, but you surely don’t think I’m about to let you spend the night at some sketch hotel by yourself. And I’m certainly not going to let you go back to that apartment with that temperamental skeeze of a husband you have.”

“Let me?” You back up, resting your hand on your now cocked hip.

“Peanut.” Bucky stares up at you, “I didn’t mean it in that way. I’m sorry. I’m only saying that I want you to be safe and I don’t feel comfortable leaving you in either of those environments. I would be much for comfortable if you came home with me so that I could protect you.”

You shoulders relax, in the back of your mind, you know that he didn’t mean anything by it. John always sets you on edge, and it’s unfair of you to put those emotions onto Bucky.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just… John.” Your sentence trails off, no ending really needed because you know that Bucky understands.

“Come on. Get on, Peanut Butter. We aren’t far from my place.”

You mount Bucky’s bike, his left hand immediately going to your thigh, his fingers threading themselves between the rips of your jeans to feel the soft skin of your knee. The ride to Bucky’s apartment is quiet, the rumbling of the motorcycle beneath you is powerful and steady. Every chance he got, Bucky would slip his fingers into the rips of your jeans, aching to be close to you in every way possible. You lean forward, resting your helmeted head against his back while he drives.

If there was one thing that you never would have guessed, it’s that Bucky Barnes would have pale green wallpaper in his apartment. Not just a pale green, he proudly declares that it’s agate green, the color he spent weeks painstakingly debating between that and nurture green. You giggle as you toe your shoes off at the front door, quietly taking in his personal space.

The exposed brick melds with the dark countertops in a way that’s almost soothing. The pendant lights above the island cast a soft glow over the open floor plan. Bucky turns to face you, peeling off his leather jacket and hanging it on a hook beside the door. You catch his eyes, only to be distracted by the wall of bookshelves on the far end of his apartment.

“Oh my god, Bucky I had no idea you were so interested in reading.”

He laughs, shoving his hands in his front pockets while walking behind you as you approach the stacks of books he has scattered throughout his home.

“I’ve always enjoyed reading. When I was deployed there wasn’t much to do other than read. I had my Ma send me all different kinds of books, from new releases to her favorite classics to stuff my little sister was reading in school.” He stands beside you, shoulder to shoulder as you glance up at him. “Guess I never kicked the habit, though there are worse vices that a person could have.”

You hum, refocusing your attention on the books, but only for a second as Bucky reaches his hand out and leads you up the stairs to the lofted bedroom. Bucky’s comforter matches the green walls that sits behind his TV. Not only that, but his pillow cases vary from overly fluffy to soft silks. The mixture of textures and fabrics is almost too much for your brain to comprehend. You’re about to question it when Bucky returns to your line of sight, a dark Henley in one hand and a pair of boxers in the other.

“I don’t have any pajamas for you, but you can wear these.”

He’s almost sheepish as he presents you with the clothes, a light blush casting over his cheeks. It’s so interesting to interact with him. At times, he’s the most suave man you’ve ever met, and at others, it’s like he’s a lovestruck teenager who’s just got their first girlfriend.

You thank him and follow behind him as he leads you to the en-suite bathroom. Just as Bucky begins to explain where everything is, he bends down to the bottom cabinets and retrieves a spare toothbrush.

“Planning for extra company, huh?” You joke while poking him in the side as he stands next to you in the doorway.

Bucky’s tongue peaks out of his mouth, his teeth catching on his bottom lip as he stares down at you. His eyes do that thing again, the same thing he did just before he laid out his feelings for you earlier. Your breath catches in your throat, is he leaning closer? Are you inching toward him? What are you doing?

“Bucky,” the tension breaks, a dam of emotions behind held back by your dedication to your marriage. “I feel like I should explain.”

His hands rest on your shoulders, quick to silence your worries. He leans forward, dotting a quick kiss to your forehead. Bucky lingers, the soft press of his lips shoots warm and fuzzy feelings through your bones.

“Tomorrow. You’ve had a long night. We can talk about everything in the morning.”

A weight of anxiety lifts from your shoulders as you watch Bucky begins descend the stairs, lush blankets and pillows in hand. You turn back to his room, allowing yourself to sink into his private space.

You peel back the duvet and sit on the edge of his mattress, unsure if you should fully dive into his being. If you’re quiet enough you can hear Bucky downstairs, shuffling on the couch in an attempt to find a comfortable position.

Your eyeline floats over his bedside table, the lamp atop it casting a pale yellow glow over the entire room. The surface next to you is covered in items that are unequivocally Bucky—a worn copy of Journey to the Center of the Earth, a leather bound journal, the few gold rings that he something adorns his digits with while bartending. His rings clink against each other as your fingers drift over the cold metal.

Among his assorted objects is your phone on his charger. The light pink case is slightly out of place, but not enough to be obnoxious. You smile to yourself while lying back in his sheets.

You really do owe him an explanation. Bucky deserves more than some broken woman who’s in a shitty marriage. He deserves the world and then some. All you can offer is a somewhat clear thought process.

You think on John’s actions today. He really showed you his true colors. You start to wonder if he really cares about you or if just cares about having a wife. If it’s the second one, why does it have to be you?

You flip to the other side, now facing the back wall of windows. Your mind is about as calm as the city right now. New York is never quiet, even this far out in Brooklyn. You’re never safe from the light pollution that constantly blocks out the beauty that is the natural night sky.

It makes you long for your hometown, the wide open spaces with vast fields of nothingness that stretch for miles on end. Maybe it’s time you pay it a visit. It would be nice to escape the hodge podge of a life you’re currently living.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you force yourself to slow your breathing. Distantly you can hear Bucky begin to snore, a low monotonous sound that you cling to. For the first time in months you feel secure. Your muscles decompress, your brow unfurls and you allow yourself to truly relax.

With everything that’s going on, Bucky deserves more. You deserve more, but that can all wait until tomorrow.

Tomorrow. That’s a good thought.

[dee-writes-angst]

DAFFODILS (Chapter One)

FEATURING Eris Vanserra x pregnant!reader

SUMMARY The Spring Court has gone to shit, and while you would normally be able to tolerate it, the new discovery that you were pregnant pushes you to the gates of The Autumn Court and unknowingly into Eris' arms.

CONTENT WARNINGS pregnancy, Eris being a slight douche (you know how it is yall), violence (reader is kicked in the stomach), and mentions of Tampon (Tamlin).

AUTHORS NOTE who's excited for the kick-off of yet another series? I am! Of course, I had to start an Eris series, I love him too much not to! Strap in, darlings, I have a feeling this is going to be a long one.

SERIES MASTERLIST

The once vibrant Spring court had gone to shit, a shadow of its former glory. Tamlin, the once revered and compassionate High Lord, had vanished, abandoning his people to suffer in the decay his negligence had allowed to fester.

Amid the desolation, there were attempts to salvage what remained of the Spring Court. Lucien's name surfaced as one who strove to preserve our home. I recall his desperate sacrifice on Calanmai, offering himself to Ianthe in a futile bid to rescue us. He still occasionally visits, perhaps clinging to a hope that he might stumble upon signs of revival, our High Lord restored to his former benevolence. Yet each return only reinforces the stark reality of our decline, leaving him unsurprised by the sight of our dwindling realm.

And now, here I stand, just beyond the borders of the Autumn Court, clad in nothing but the ragged remnants of my escape, imploring the impassive sentries to grant me sanctuary within their walls. They offer no response, their stoic countenances unmoved as I plead and weep at their feet.

In my disheveled state, I must present a pitiful sight—my attire threadbare and stained, my once-glamorous countenance marred by streaks of dirt and smudged cosmetics, my limbs adorned with bruises like macabre adornments.

As I teeter on the brink of desperation, a voice cuts through the stillness, emerging from the depths of the forest to my right. The guards snap to attention at its sound, their posture stiffening even further, if such a thing were possible, in deference to its commanding presence.

"What is the meaning of this?" The voice, smooth as silk and sharp as a blade, belonged to a man with cascading locks of fiery hair, who strode forth from the underbrush with an air of regal authority.

Gods, he was a vision to behold. Despite the earthy stains marring his attire and the tousled state of his tunic sleeves, he exuded an otherworldly allure.

"A mere denizen of the Spring Court, attempting to beg her way into our domain, my lord," one of the guards grumbled, offering a curt bow before callously nudging me aside with his boot. I winced as the blow landed squarely in my stomach.

"And what, pray tell, do you think you are doing, you imbecile!" The fiery-haired man's voice dripped with disdain as he strode forward, confronting the offending guard with palpable fury. "Can you not discern her condition, you fool? She carries life within her."

My heart lurched as I instinctively cradled my abdomen, a protective gesture born of maternal instinct. Though every fiber of my being yearned to retaliate against the guard's callousness, I forced myself to breathe deeply, refusing to succumb to the animalistic urges that society expected of Spring Court members in these desperate times.

"Are you alright?" the man inquired, his amber eyes ablaze with a captivating mix of concern and authority, their gaze so intense that it stole the very air from my lungs.

"I'm… I'm fine," I managed to utter, brushing aside the tangled strands of hair obscuring my face and inhaling deeply to steady my frayed nerves.

"I must apologize for the behavior of my soldier. Rest assured, appropriate measures will be taken, my lady," the man assured me, his smile radiant as he inclined his head with graceful deference. His charm nearly brought a wry laugh to my lips.

"No need for such formalities," I replied weakly, the weight of my displaced status as a refugee gnawing at my throat like a persistent ache. But I steeled myself with the thought of my unborn child, a beacon of hope amidst the chaos. "I am no longer a lady—well, not in the traditional sense, anyway."

"How so?" the man persisted, his expression a blend of curiosity and genuine concern, prompting me to draw my arms tighter around myself.

"I find it quite audacious for someone whose name I don't even know to ask such personal questions," I retorted, feigning a hint of indignation that rang hollow even to my own ears.

"Fair point," he conceded with a charming grin, though his adherence to formality still grated on my nerves. "Allow me to rectify that oversight. My name is Eris. Eris Vanserra, Heir to the Autumn Court," he declared, and I felt a strange mixture of relief and weariness wash over me at his introduction.

Eris. Lucien had spoken sparingly of his older brother during his time in the Spring Court, but whenever he did, a profound sense of affection tinged with melancholy colored his words. I shook myself from my reverie, extending a hand in a gesture of polite acknowledgement as I reciprocated with my own name. Eris repeated my name softly, testing it on his tongue, and my heart twinged at the striking resemblance in mannerism between him and Lucien, one so distant yet familiar, the other painfully close.

"Now," Eris began, his hands making a smooth, sweeping gesture that hinted at his readiness to delve deeper into the matter at hand, "what brings you to the borders of the Autumn Court, my lady?"

"The Spring Court is…" My voice faltered, and I let out a weary sigh, my hand instinctively resting on my still-flat stomach for comfort.

"It's gone to shit," he finished for me, his smirk sharp but not unkind.

"Well, I wouldn't have phrased it quite so bluntly, but yes," I responded, my fingers tracing small circles over my abdomen. "That place and its ruler are no fit environment for a child. Considering the proximity of your court, I was hoping I might find a new beginning here."

"What about the father?" Eris inquired, one eyebrow—a mirror image of Lucien's—arching skeptically.

I clear my throat awkwardly and look at my well-worn shoes. How does one tell the Heir to the Autumn Court that they are pregnant with his youngest brother's babe? How does one also explain how he is mated to another female, that they knew as soon as that brother found out about said babe, he would give up all hope to find his true mate in order to be there for his child?

"Not in the picture," I manage to say, my voice faltering slightly as I reach up to scratch the back of my neck, a gesture betraying my discomfort.

Eris hums, a low, thoughtful sound that vibrates with suspicion, his striking eyes narrowing as he scrutinizes my uneasy demeanor. The weight of his gaze feels like it could peel back the layers of my hastily constructed defenses, compelling me to confront truths I'd rather leave unspoken. Eris's scrutinizing gaze doesn't waver, and the silence stretches taut between us like a bowstring. "Not in the picture," he echoes thoughtfully, each word heavy with the promise of unasked questions.

I nod, feeling the weight of the moment settling around us. The air in the forest seems to hold its breath, the usual whispers of leaves and distant calls of woodland creatures falling into a hushed reverence. "And you must understand, my lord, that my child is my utmost priority," I assert with unwavering resolve, emphasizing his title with a hint of disdain, as if challenging the very foundations of our unequal stations.

The guards stationed behind me draw in sharp, anticipatory breaths, seemingly prepared for their lord to mete out swift retribution for my boldness. I steel myself against the expected blow, a silent rehearsal of defiance.

Yet, the expected strike does not materialize. Instead, Eris regards me with what could only be described as admiration. His gaze, intense and calculating, appraises me not as a threat, but as a formidable presence in my own right.

"Well, little fox," he begins, his voice carrying a playful undertone that belies the depth of his contemplation. He strokes his chin thoughtfully, his fingers tracing the lines of his jaw as if to physically underline his ponderings. "It appears you've presented quite the compelling argument for yourself here."

The use of "little fox" — a term perhaps meant to denote cunning and resilience — sparks a flicker of amusement within me, mixed with a surge of cautious optimism. His demeanor suggests a blend of challenge and respect, hinting at a dynamic that could evolve beyond mere formalities or supplications. This man before me is not just the heir to a court; he is a strategist weighing his next move.

"You seek shelter for yourself and the babe?" Eris inquires with a hint of slyness, as if to subtly test my resolve, though it's a point I've already made abundantly clear.

"Indeed," I retort sharply, refusing to waver under the weight of his penetrating gaze.

"Then shelter you shall have," he declares, pivoting on his heel to fix the guards with a stern glare. "You will allow her passage," he commands, his tone uncompromising. The guards, obedient to their lord's decree, quickly acquiesce, parting to allow me entry with a mere flick of Eris's wrist.

The heady scent of spices and autumnal freshness assaults my senses as I approach the threshold, beckoning me forward with its tantalizing allure. It's as if the very essence of this court implores me to embrace my true purpose, to seize control of my destiny without hesitation. The boldness of it all catches me off guard, stirring a sense of rebellion that courses through my veins like wildfire.

Pausing at the threshold, I find myself suspended between the tranquility of the wilderness behind me and the vibrant chaos of the court ahead. I hesitate, grappling with the weight of the choices that lie before me.

Eris slows his stride beside me, as if attuned to my uncertainty, and extends his arm—an offering both courteous and suggestive. His demeanor exudes confidence and assurance, as if he expects me to surrender to his lead without question.

But I refuse to yield to the expectations of courtly decorum. Chin held high, I meet his gaze with unwavering resolve, ignoring the disheveled state of my attire as I assert my independence. My feet remain firmly planted, refusing to advance until I am ready, on my own terms.

Eris's arm lingers in the air for a moment, a flicker of surprise crossing his features at my defiance. His amber eyes search mine, silently probing, yet beneath the scrutiny, I detect a glimmer of curiosity and… respect.

"I am quite capable of managing on my own," I declare, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging within me.

His expression softens, and he nods, gracefully retracting his arm. "As you wish," he concedes, gesturing for me to take the lead as we finally step through the threshold together.

The walk through the streets of Autumn was like stepping into a painting come to life. The cobblestone pathways wound gracefully between quaint buildings adorned with intricate carvings and vibrant splashes of ivy. Overhead, colorful banners fluttered in the gentle breeze, their designs depicting scenes of seasonal splendor and courtly festivities.

Stands and stalls lined the streets, each one a miniature wonderland of treasures waiting to be discovered. From intricately woven tapestries to gleaming trinkets and baubles, the offerings were as diverse as they were captivating. Merchants called out to passersby in melodious voices, their wares displayed with care and pride.

The smells that wafted through the air were a symphony of sensory delights. Spices mingled with the scent of freshly baked bread, their fragrances intermingling in a tantalizing dance that made my mouth water. Roasted chestnuts crackled and popped over open fires, their warm, nutty aroma floating on the breeze alongside the sweet perfume of ripe fruit and fragrant flowers.

Eris's sudden change in direction pulled me from my reverie, my gaze following his lead as we approached a magnificent structure nestled within the heart of the Autumn Court. The Forest House loomed before us, its grandeur and mystique commanding attention as we drew nearer.

Surrounded by a wrought iron gate, the house stood as a bastion of elegance amidst the bustling streets. Tall trees swayed gently in the breeze, their branches reaching out to embrace the ancient structure with a sense of reverence. Vines climbed the walls, their verdant tendrils weaving intricate patterns against the weathered stone.

The sight of the Forest House sent a shiver down my spine, a visceral reaction to the aura of power and mystery that seemed to emanate from its very core. It was as if the house held secrets untold, whispering tales of bygone days and forgotten legends to those who dared to listen.

"Wait!" I called out, the urgency in my voice halting Eris in his tracks. His steps faltered, and he turned to face me, a glint of amusement dancing in the depths of his eyes. The sunlight filtering through the canopy overhead cast dappled shadows across his features, lending an air of intrigue to his already enigmatic presence.

"Yes?" he inquired, his voice smooth and tinged with playful curiosity, his smirk hinting at secrets hidden just beneath the surface.

"What's going to happen to me? Where will I stay?" I blurted out, the fierce confidence I had summoned earlier dissipating like morning mist in the face of uncertainty. Nervously, I began to pick at my nails, the weight of the unknown pressing down upon me like a heavy cloak.

Eris regarded me with a knowing glint in his eyes, as if he had anticipated my question long before I had voiced it. "You will stay with me, of course," he replied simply, his voice carrying an air of nonchalance that belied the gravity of his words. There was a subtle confidence in his demeanor, a quiet assurance that spoke of his authority within the court.

I recoiled at his casual response, a surge of apprehension coursing through me. "But what about Beron? Won't he object to having a… a lowborn in his household?" I ventured cautiously, the weight of his father's disapproval looming like a specter in the back of my mind.

"Nonsense," Eris scoffed, his arms crossing over his chest in a dismissive gesture. "You are now a member of this court, and given your condition," he added with a subtle nod towards my abdomen, "it is only fitting that you reside in more suitable accommodations." His words were tinged with a hint of defiance, a silent challenge to anyone who would dare question his authority.

Despite his reassurances, doubt gnawed at the edges of my mind, uncertainty clouding my thoughts like a thick fog. "Absolutely not!" I protested vehemently, a surge of protectiveness coursing through me as I instinctively placed a hand over my stomach, as if to shield my unborn child from the absurdity of Eris's suggestion. "I refuse to stay in your chambers, Eris. It's… it's utterly preposterous."

Eris's eyebrow lifted slightly, his gaze holding a hint of amusement mixed with something darker. "Stubborn, aren't we?" he remarked, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "But if you prefer to sleep on the streets, far be it from me to stand in your way."

His words, though seemingly casual, carried a sharp edge that hinted at the depth of his cunning. It was a subtle reminder of his position of power, a reminder that I was at his mercy whether I liked it or not.

I bristled at his thinly veiled threat, my jaw clenching as I met his gaze with a glare of my own. "You wouldn't dare," I challenged, though a flicker of uncertainty danced behind my eyes.

Eris's smirk widened, the glint in his amber eyes turning predatory. "Try me," he replied, his tone dripping with promise and menace in equal measure.

With a frustrated huff, I reluctantly relented, realizing that I was in no position to defy him. "Fine," I conceded through gritted teeth, my hand slipping from my stomach to clench into a fist at my side. "But don't expect me to thank you for it."

Eris's smirk softened into a smirk, his gaze lingering on me with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. "Who said anything about gratitude?" he mused, his voice low and husky. "I'm merely extending a courtesy to a fellow refugee."

His words were laced with sarcasm, a reminder that his generosity came with strings attached. It was a stark contrast to the charming facade he wore, a glimpse of the ruthlessness that lay beneath.

I swallowed hard, a bitter taste rising in the back of my throat as I followed him towards the Forest House. It was clear that my time in the Autumn Court would be far from easy, but as I glanced back at the crumbling ruins of the Spring Court behind me, I knew that I had no other choice.

As we reached the grand doors of the Forest House, Eris turned to me with a smirk. "Welcome to your new home, little fox," he remarked, his tone dripping with irony. "Try not to get too comfortable."

My brows furrowed at his words, suspicion creeping into my mind. "What's the catch?" I asked warily, narrowing my eyes at him.

Eris chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. "Though I do have one condition," he said, his smirk widening into a grin.

"And what is that?" I asked, a sinking feeling settling in the pit of my stomach.

"You must walk with me once a day for the duration of your stay," Eris declared, his tone teasing yet firm.

My jaw dropped in disbelief. "You're joking," I exclaimed, disbelief evident in my voice.

Eris's grin widened, his amber eyes dancing with amusement. "Do I look like I'm joking?" he retorted, his tone challenging.

I narrowed my eyes at him, a surge of defiance rising within me. "This is ridiculous," I protested, shaking my head in disbelief. "I won't be your captive audience."

Eris's expression softened, a hint of something unfamiliar flickering in his eyes. "It's not about being captive," he said softly, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. "Consider it… a chance to explore the court, to clear your mind. Besides," he added with a smirk, "I could use the company."

I bristled at his suggestion, my pride warring with my better judgment. "And if I refuse?" I challenged, crossing my arms over my chest.

Eris's smirk widened, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Then you'll miss out on some truly breathtaking views," he replied, his tone teasing yet earnest.

I sighed in frustration, realizing that I was fighting a losing battle. "Fine," I relented, though the words tasted like ash on my tongue. "But don't expect me to enjoy it."

Eris's grin widened into a smirk, his eyes alight with amusement. "Oh, I have a feeling you'll come to enjoy it more than you think," he remarked cryptically, before turning to lead the way into the Forest House.

As Eris escorted me to the grand Forest House, his steps were measured, exuding an air of regal confidence that was unmistakably his. His fiery locks seemed to dance with each movement, and his amber eyes held a glint of mischief, hinting at the cunning that lay beneath his charming exterior.

Upon entering my chambers, Eris's gaze swept over the room with a critical eye, a subtle smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "I trust the accommodations meet with your approval, my lady?" he inquired, his voice smooth as honey but tinged with a hint of sarcasm.

I nodded, unable to suppress a smirk of my own at his thinly veiled jest. "They're quite lovely, thank you," I replied, matching his playful tone with one of my own.

Eris's smirk widened into a grin, his amusement evident in the curve of his lips. "Excellent," he remarked, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than strictly necessary before turning away to survey the room once more.

As I explored my new surroundings, I couldn't help but notice Eris's watchful gaze following my every move. It was as if he were sizing me up, gauging my reactions to the opulence that surrounded us. I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to him than met the eye, a depth of character hidden behind his charming facade.

Spotting the single daffodil on the table near the window, I couldn't suppress a chuckle at the sight. It was a quintessentially Eris gesture—playful yet meaningful, a subtle reminder of our earlier exchange. I picked up the note beside it, the elegant script a testament to Eris's attention to detail.

"I will be seeing you real soon, little fox. Wouldn't want you slacking off on our daily walks now, would we?" the note read, the teasing tone perfectly in line with Eris's mischievous nature. I couldn't help but smile at his audacity, the unspoken challenge sparking a flicker of excitement within me.

Setting the note back down, I turned to find Eris watching me with a knowing smirk, his amber eyes alight with amusement. "I take it you approve of my choice of decor?" he quipped, the smirk widening into a grin as he met my gaze.

I rolled my eyes playfully, unable to suppress a laugh at his antics. "It's certainly… unique," I replied, the hint of sarcasm in my tone mirroring his own.

Eris chuckled softly, a sound that sent shivers down my spine. "I'm glad to hear it," he replied, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than strictly necessary before turning away to hide the flush that crept across his cheeks.

TAGLIST

@purple-writer8 @defnotlucienvanserra @cherry-cin @julesofvolterra @mirandasidefics @mandziaaa @lilah-asteria @littlestw01f @skylarkalchemist @babypeapoddd

[amphitriteswife]

📝✂️Ror/ Snv characters as Students📝✂️

Qin shin huang:

🪭 never listens to the teacher. Like ever. He just does a lot of shit and the teacher is fed up with him so they let it slide

🪭 He’s the type of student to never study or show up and still pass with ease. No one knows how, not even the teachers.

🪭’ Qin you have had like 43 periods of missed lesson and it’s not even the second semester. How the hell did u even pass my test’ ‘Sir, i am literally God’s chosen emperor’

🪭 If you’re partnered up with him, prepare to take the lead cause bro either doesn’t know shit or he aint even present to begin with

🪭Even though he doesn’t do much for projects, he still buts whatever you need for it as a way to repay you. Including if he gets food or drinks, he’s paying for them too.

🪭Has very random subjects. Mainly cause they have China in them, including Chinese.

🪭 ‘Alright, what subjects do you wish to choose to take exams from?’ ‘China’

🪭 Violates dress codes. You need to dress in uniform? He’ll wear the most lavish suit you have ever laid your eyes upon. The school has a gala and you need to dress fancy? He’ll pull up w the most casual and basic outfit ever.

🪭 If he’s actually present, which is a rare sight, he’s usually loud. Mainly cause he has lots of friends and basically knows everyone since you can get along with him greatly.

🪭 complains about a lot of subjects. Math? He hates it. Biology? It gives him big brain moment and he doesn’t get it. Literature? Not Chinese? He don’t want anything to do with it.

🪭 ‘Ma’am i’m innocent, why does thou must bestows such suffering upon me?’ ‘Qin i just asked you if you could read page 34 out loud’

🪭 popular with girls. U know how bro rizzed up Alvitr? Yeah he does that with other girls too. He’s one of the popular dudes so it’s not like it’s hard either💀

🪭He’s a kpop stan. You can’t prove me otherwise. He listens to BTS, Straykidz, Ateez, KAI, EXO, Tri.be, Itzy and a lot more.

🪭 has lots of friends to the point he almost knows the whole school. Even the new comers.

🪭He a player actually. You know how bro had like idk 39291819101 concubines? Yeah that doesn’t change here either. ‘Hannah? She was In February. Mao mao? She’s so last week’

🪭Throws house parties. The extravagant ones too. Big house, a pool, big garden, many floors. You name it. Funny thing is: it aint even the main house.

🪭won the vote for: ‘Who will most likely become a stripper at the end of the school year?’ In the year books. Most think it’s not even cause he needs money but because he’ll do it for fun

🪭 passed out during the School Gala cause he heard someone say that Sushi is Japanese.

🪭doesn’t eat cafeterias food. ‘I, Qin Shi Huang, refuse to eat this….stuff…I have my own glorious food. You’ll never catch him eat anything that isn’t Asian food.

🪭Bothers ppl during lectures. As in he turns and just stares. He’ll either smile or just keep staring to annoy you.

🪭 always goes to school functions, yet ends up being the one yall wait for to go back. He just disappears when yall arrive and spawns back 34 min late.

🪭Has started a campaign for trips to China

🪭 Had a lot of baby momma’s. He a cool dad and rich enough for it. Lowkey knows how to be a dad too

Poseidon:

🔱 he’s in the school’s swimming team and even won awards for it.

🔱 straight A+ student. He a boring one okay. He dont party, doesn’t even hang out after school. Straight home and learning.

🔱 You’ll only catch him drinking water during breaks and eating nutritious. He actually enjoys salad’s. Especially when it’s middle eastern ones. Does he know what’s in it? He thinks. But he dont care. If it healthy and it bussing it works for him.

🔱 ‘My body is a temple’ ahh student. It wouldn’t be surprising if his ass did Yoga or some meditation.

🔱 only goes to school trips if it’s on the beach or it’s for a grade. He the type of person that actually does the assignment instead of having fun.

🔱 he doesn’t have many friends and usually sticks to his brothers or has his earphones in. He’s the one that’s usually silent during that time too

🔱 He’s the honor graduate. Didn’t give a speech tho. He just grabbed the diploma and dipped. He did grab some food that was prepared

🔱 actually has a gf??🤨 like legit, and she’s the captain of the swimming team. He lowkey simps but he’s Poseidon so you probably will never notice.

🔱 was at a house party once. ONCE. Bro got wasted. He didn’t know punch contained alcohol, bro thought it was lemonade. Ate too much with alcohol in his system. I think yall can guess that it didn’t end well for em😭

🔱 He wears casual clothes, sometimes blazers. He doesn’t like yoga pants cause they look ‘lanky’ not even during Yoga

🔱 He takes notes during classes. Like every class. Every moment. He either writes them or types it on his laptop. Only shared with ppl likes. It’s always organized too.

🔱 if you’re partnered up with him, it can go two ways. He’s either doing only his part and leaves you to fend for yourself. Or he helps (rare sight) with the difficult parts.

🔱 he prefers communicating in the chat document. That way he can be home and still communicate if he needs to, he doesn’t like calling cause his brothers are loud asf, and he wouldn’t talk until necessary.

🔱 supports the school library. Mostly because it’s quiet and he likes quiet, but also because he wants to read a lot and it’s an excuse to not go home. He usually studies there too.

🔱 goes to waterparks during school breaks and posts pics on insta. Insta only too. No snap, no facebook, no bereal, no nothing. Even if he does have it, he doesn’t want others to know.

🔱 surprisingly has discord. But it’s only to play games. He curses ppl out in voice chat.

🔱 would either never have kids or ends up being a teenage dad. Dw tho, his gf can support him if he ends up being a stay at home husband.

🔱 models for extra money. Mostly tight clothes cause they gotta use that body for good advertisement.

🔱 he also hits the gym regularly, so he posts pics about him at the gym too.

🔱 has an onlyfans?????

Loki:

🎭 probably sees the school therapist. Every month too. They give him candy.

🎭 Actually likes literature, art, music and surprisingly p.e🤨 he likes p.e cause he can get his mind off things and look good

🎭 probably has or is in an emo phase. He has his ear pierced and wears black cargo pants. Might even have some tattoo’s.

🎭 He either annoys ppl or is very quiet. Although ppl are mostly scared when he’s quiet cause he unpredictable.

🎭 He probably goes out for walks with his earphones in after school. Like y’know when it’s raining a lil and you can smell the grass n all while you listen to music? Yeah that’s his nostalgic experience.

🎭 He writes poems in his free times or spents a lot of time in the atelier.

🎭 Had a very messy break up with sigyn and it was the hot topic in the school. It was in the school’s newspaper and everything. Even the teachers knew

🎭 he listens to a lot of music. Mostly during making art or writing. He mostly listens to: Mitsuki, Chase Atlantic, Beach Weather, The Weekend, Tylor the Creator and The Neighborhood.

🎭He either hates or loves school trips. Even if he hates the school trip he still goes, mainly because Sigyn goes. But he won’t talk to her though. Cause he too scared.

🎭 He takes aesthetically pleasing pictures of different things. He has a nature page, a dark royal one and a school one. All of em are on insta though.

🎭 he does sometimes go to parties, but he either spends a lot of time with his friends and gets wasted or goes home early.

🎭He’s friends with Hercules and Ares. Who are mostly concerned for his well being.

🎭 he also might have gotten into heavy metal and vkei. His ass might may have since it cause Sigyn likes it.

🎭 if you pared with him you, he either does stuff ir leaves it and does it on the last moment before tge deadline. His ass likes working alone. Secretly prays to be put w Sigyn

🎭 Legit had a mental breakdown in class once. I think bro is used to having em.

🎭 Got voted to be one of those pissy teachers later on in life in the year book.

That’s all for now💀 might make a part two w more characters.

⭐️tag list⭐️ @miss-seanymph-pani @tinyy-tea-cup @heldril @nicasdreamer @monstertreden @riseofamoonycake @imperfectbloodmoon @salmonpoki @snowmantita @rukia-writes @swallowtail-lotus @brokensenseofhumor @bromeliae

[starryknight-tarot]

𝓦𝓱𝓪𝓽'𝓼 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓷𝔂?

pile 1 -- > pile 2

pile 3 -- > pile 4

my masterlist<3 . paid readings

Hello beautiful souls✨ we are back in the building with another tarot reading. Today we will be looking into your destiny, a general idea of what your purpose is on this beautiful planet. Remember to meditate, take a deep breath and pick whatever pile calls to you the most. Since this is a general reading, make sure to take what resonates and leave what doesn't. Art by @pop_KOME on Twitter (or X lol).

Pile 1:

Cards: Knight of Swords rx, Queen of Wands, The Chariot, Six of Wands, King of Cups, Eight of Cups, Five of Wands, Justice

Back of the Deck: Nine of Swords

Pile 1, your destiny is to be a leader. I feel a strong spiritual presence for this pile, I feel like you are very strongly protected by your spirit team, you may even have some powerful archangels in your spirit team. Also hearing some of yall may be an Aquarius and have heavy water energy in your birth chart. You are someone who has watched the people in your life be mistreated and conditioned to just suffer through traumatic experiences. But instead of following in the same path of suffering, you take action. Your destiny is to help the people around cope with life and make life feel a little easier. Some of you can do this just by being your true authentic self which encouraging others to do the same. Some of you are destine to be therapists, judges, lawyers, maybe even politicians. If any of you play Honkai Star Rail, you are giving major Natasha vibes. You are destined to run organisations that could literally save lives or make life a lot easier for people. I am also hearing some of yall could create something that would become really popular and almost in a way save people. Like, have you ever had a show or song or form of art that has shaped your life, taught you a lesson, or helped you from a really hard experience. Your destiny is to be that for people or create something that has that effect on people. I am seeing specifically Studio Ghibli so that could have an impact on you, or inspired you to create something. For some of you, your destiny is to be parent, but more specifically to help raise someone the right way(?). Kinda going along with what I was saying before, you may have had a really unhealthy home environment growing up and when it's your turn to be a parent, you will make it your mission to make sure your child doesn't have to go through what you went through, in a healthy way, of course if you don't want to be a parent then this doesn't apply. I just heard, "It's your job to call out the bullcrap." It's your purpose to stand up and say no when others won't or are too scared. You have a lot of influence on people Pile 1, and your purpose is to use it to help the people around you.

Advice Cards:

Align body, mind and spirit. Know that you are whole

Control is an illusion. Surrender and allow the Universe to guide you

Hold a positive outlook. You will see it when you believe it

To effect a change, you must be willing

Get clear about what you want

It is time to unclutter your body, mind, and spirit

Channeled Songs:

Pile 2

Cards: The Emperor rx, Eight of Wands, The Hanged Man rx, King of Swords, Queen of Wands, Four of Wands rx, Page of Cups, The Sun

Back of the Deck: The Devil

Your destiny is to be a shining light in the darkness. The small ounce of hope when everything seems to be lost. Now that is a big role Pile 2. I heard just now, "Your duty is to spread warmth." and "All you gotta do is slay all day." LMAO. You may currently or in the past have felt like everything is hopeless and you may have repeated very negative affirmations. I feel like it's a part of your purpose to learn about how powerful words are and use it to your advantage. When you finally start to use your words in a way that shows hope and positivity, is when you will fully align with your higher self and see all the beautiful things that life truly has to offer. This pile reminds me of another reading I did, it was Pile 4 of my what makes you so attractive reading so if you picked that pile, this pile is definitely for you. If you are interested and haven't read that reading then I would highly recommend it. I feel like your destiny to spread kindness. I am seeing a scenario where you are working somewhere and someone was having a bad day, but after talking with you for a short while, they are in a really good mood and feel amazing. I feel like your use of words and how you express yourself freely is your purpose. I feel like this pile is the most likely to be famous, I am seeing specifically a streamer. I feel like you are just someone that people could listen to talk for hours and it just feels so calming and relaxing. I am kinda picking up on when Among Us was really popular and there was a handful of streamers that were just majorly comforting for people, especially since that was when COVID was really bad. If you did follow thoses streamers, you may know Sykkuno, and I am saying this because I feel like you have a very similar life purpose as Sykkuno or you are just very similar to him. I heard you are like a safe place for people. I feel like your purpose is to make a domino effect for love and kindness. Like when you smile at someone, they smile, and then they make someone else smile and it just spreads. Some of yall may be into yoga or maybe even wanna be yoga instructors. You could also be a masseuse. Your destiny is to be a comforting presence and to show people another way to look a life. (I feel like this pile is very different from Pile 1, however there are some messages from Pile 1 that I strongly feel that may apply to you so if you did feel called to Pile 1 as well, please do read it)

Advice Cards:

Remain faithful to your ideal and find trust within yourself

Control is an illusion. Surrender and allow the Universe to guide you

Remove all resistances and move into a state of flow

It is time to challenge old beliefs

You can manifest your heart's desire

To effect a change, you must be willing

Channeled Songs:

Pile 3

Cards: Two of Pentacles rx, Knight of Pentacles, Strength rx, The Lovers, Page of Swords, Nine of Cups, Temperance, Three of Cups

Back of the Deck: Nine of Wands

There is some crazy beautiful messages for this pile. Your destiny is to see your dreams become a reality. I am getting that you are someone who has worked very hard for everything you have, I am hearing started from the bottom now we're here lol. Pile 3, all the hard work and love you have put into you goals and dreams are destined to shine brightly. You will be able eat the fruits of your labor. Honestly Pile 3, I just see good things coming towards you and it is so wholesome. I feel like there has been a lot of times where you've just wanted to give up and take the easy route of life, giving into words that say you will never achieve anything you strive to. But it is literally your destiny to succeed. Spirit is saying that all the times that have been rough and cruel have been so that when you finally get to relax and see your hard work flourish, it will feel even more rewarding. I feel like things you never thought would be possible for you will come true. Finding true love, a soul family that you can always rely on. I heard multiple people will fall in love you. Pile 3, its your destiny to go on a journey of self love, this journey may be a spiritual awakening for you, by connecting with spiritual, it can help you realize your true potential. I feel like all this love and success will take a while for you though, especially if you tend to put yourself down and don't acknowledge the work you need to do. I feel like some of you are really passionate about your dreams but fail to really push yourself and challenge yourself because of your insecurities. Don't try to be humble Pile 3, you are amazing and the world wants to see you shine! If you are procrastinating about the things you want to bring into your life and putting yourself down when you make mistakes, these blessings will delay and if it gets really bad, may never come. Mistakes are extremely human and we are meant to make mistakes to learn from them and improve even more. Believe in the power of your mind and creativity and the universe, and that's when blessings will manifest. Spirit wants you to enjoy life to the fullest and enjoy the things life has to offer.

Advice Cards:

Remain faithful to your ideal and find trust within yourself

Your spirit wings are unfolding. It is time to take flight!

Practice the pause

Keep the faith. Stay intentioned. Your perseverance will pay off

You are moving beyond your old form. Congratulations!

Relax and feel good. You deserve more joy!

Control is an illusion. Surrender and allow the Universe to guide

Channeled Songs:

Pile 4

Cards: Seven of Pentacles, Queen of Swords, King of Swords, Four of Swords rx, Four of Wands, Seven of Cups, Six of Wands, Page of Cups

Back of the Deck: Ace of Swords

You have some fun energy Pile 4. It is your destiny to enjoy the ride of life. To let life take the wheel and chill in the fast lane. This pile got so much swords cards, so yall could be an air sign, Gemini, Libra, Aquarius, or have a very air heavy birth chart. With the swords cards I am getting that it's your destiny to be free. You may currently feel tied down by people and burdens that just feel so heavy and tiring. But it is your destiny to escape from the shackles of these things and have fun. You are supposed to enjoy the things you have missed out on for so long. I feel like you have felt held back by societies expectations of you and changed yourself to fit in. But the universe wants you to express yourself and show us who you really are. It will feel amazing when you do. People are always going to have problems with you being yourself because your confidence makes them feel intimidated in their own lack of self expression. They are all just jealous of you, so don't let them hold you back from enjoying the things you are passionate about and from feeling the wind on your skin. For some of you, it's your destiny to be a cool parent or like aunt or uncle. I feel like you will have a strong influence on the people close to you, you will be like a role model for the younger people around you. It's because you show them how beautiful freedom and just expressing yourself without worrying about what others think of can be. I also feel like you will meet someone that is your divine counterpart. Someone that understands you better than anyone else will. This could be romantic but it doesn't have to be. This connection will be something everyone will be envious of. This person is someone you know you will grow old with. Your destiny is to enjoy with a smile on your face.

Advice Cards:

Expect good things to come to you

It's time to try something new!

It is important to ask for help

To effect a change, you must be willing

It is time to challenge old beliefs

Act on what you know

You are divinely protected. Remind yourself how safe you are

Channeled Songs:

Thanks for tuning in₊‧.°.⋆🫧•˚₊‧⋆.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Same as it ever was 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as neglect, bullying, manipulation, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Between your home life and work, you just can't catch a break. Especially after you draw the ire of your boss.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen ft. Pete Brenner

Note: Hope yall like this one!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Everyone knows to keep their head down when Mr. Hansen walks through the department. As often as he already has a gripe in his belly, he is just as likely to be looking for a victim to accost. You keep your head down as you sense him trawling the bullpen, his figure a speck at the corner of your eye.

You keep an ear pricked, call it paranoia, but you've witnessed the sort of suffering he can rain down on the unexpecting. You browse the spreadsheet, carefully inputting numbers cell by cell. You withhold a sigh, not wanting to give away any clue of your existence.

"Kendra," he leans on the blonde's desk, his other hand on his hip, "pretty name…"

She thanks him. The new girl is always his favourite novelty. It's these moments that make you even more thankful for the obscurity that comes with age. And more disgusted by the unchanging behaviour of creepy men.

"There's this conference next month, good experience for a temp," he offers, "what about it, sweetheart?"

If it was any other man, you might clear your throat to let him know you can hear him. To remind him of professionalism. Too dangerous. You feel a twinge of pain at letting the twentysomething flounder against his undeniable proposal.

"Far away so… we'd have to fly out," he continues and you shift in your chair unthinkingly. You can't help it, you've been there, you've had to smile and fawn, to pretend your skin isn't crawling. "...pack something pretty."

Your elbow hits your pen and it rolls off the edge of your desk. You wheel back to grab and dare a peek over at Mr. Hansen in his predatory posturing. His eyes are drawn to you and he squints as he rolls his tongue behind his lower lip. Shit.

You sit up quickly, repressing a groan at the pang in your lower back, and roll up to your desk. You cradle your face, hiding behind your hand as you scroll and pretend to be enraptured by your screen. You doubt you're enough to distract him from the beautiful blonde.

"They got room service up in Gaines," he continues, "think about it."

He taps two fingers on her desk as he pushes off. You expect him to strut back to his office but continues his walk of the floor. You shrink down and curl your shoulders, looking at your cold coffee in desperation. A good excuse to get away from your desk but you can already hear him rebuking you for getting up just for another cup.

You click to the next sheet in the file as he nears. You stiffen as he comes behind you, holding your breath as you wait for him to pass. You feel him pause and hear the subtle scuff of his sole. You nearly jump as he puts his hands on your shoulders.

He leans in, his overpriced cologne tickling at the migraine in the back of your brain. You select a cell and pull up a report for comparison. He watches you work without a word, hands firmly on your cardigan.

He shoves away suddenly and claps his hand as he twists on his heel.

"Alright team, back to work," he demands as if the whole floor must be rapt by his presence, "no fucking around."

You let out a breath of relief. You glance over at Kendra as she gives a cringe at his back. You want to commiserate but you'd hate to make her feel more awkward.

You wait until you're certain Hansen is in his office and take your half-finished coffee to the kitchen. You rinse it out and dry it before placing it on the tray of the machine. You put a pod in and select the size, standing back with crossed arms to watch it brew.

You hear someone behind you but don't look over. The shadow approaches the fridge and pulls it open, taking out a container seemingly at random. You turn your head and blanch at Mr. Hansen as he cracks the communal carton of milk meant for coffee and drinks directly from it. You try not to show your disgust.

"Morning," he swipes the back of his hand across his mustache, "want some?"

He offers the carton as you grab your mug and shake your head, "no, thank you, sir."

"On a diet? Keeping the dairy low?" He wonders before taking another gulp then looks at the label. "Ugh, who the fuck ordered skim?" 

You muster an awkward smile. You've never been good at office politics, you don't pander, you just mind your business and so your work. A good day is when no one bothers you.

He puts the carton back without closing it. You retreat slowly, realising he's between you and the door. You try to sidle past as he reaches into the fridge again. He steps back, nearly into your path and examines the tupperware. You stop short as you recognise the worn teal lid; it's your leftovers from the night before, your name clearly labelled on the top.

"Huh," he peels back the lid and smells the chili, "smells delish…" he dips his fingers to your shock and sucks it off shamelessly, "hell of a cook." He says, a tinge of red in his mustache.

"Uh, thanks, I should–"

"You should?" He arches a brow, "you should… keep your nose out of my conversations and focus on your own work, right?"

"I don't know what you mean–"

"I saw you. Squirming like a caterpillar," he snaps the lid back into place and tosses the whole container on the bin beside the fridge, "look, I know at your age, there’s not much excitement but it doesn't mean you needa eavesdrop on matters that don't concern you."

"I didn't–"

"I get it, you're jealous, your ass blew up after the kids and your husband hasn't looked at you in years–"

"Sir," you say affronted but more stung by the accuracy, "please, I wasn't–"

"Oh, yes, you weren't listening because you have a deadline," he steps closer and wraps his hand around your mug. He wiggles it free of your grasp and you let him, "I moved the budget review to tomorrow morning so…" he pauses and swigs the coffee while snapping his fingers with his other hand, "snap, snap on those expense reports."

You stand, stunned and shamed. He spins nonchalantly and strides out, still sipping your fresh coffee. You let your head fall back and groan. Not only are you out the extra caffeine boost but you have to call the babysitter.

🗄️

You don't mourn your lunch as you likely wouldn't have the time to eat. You spend it outside, below the awning of the building as rain pours over the edge. You have your phone in hand and a needling in your skull. This sort of weather always gives you a headache.

On the fifth try, Pete picks up and you swallow a sigh, "hey," you say abruptly, checking your watch.

"Hey, what's up? I had to leave a meeting," he hisses low, out of breath.

"I'm sorry, I just need to know what time you're expecting to be home. The sitter can only stay until seven but I have to stay late–"

"Late? Honey, you know I can't guarantee I'll be there. I'm working my ass off tryna get this thing off the ground. Grinding–"

"I know, I know, but we could use the overtime and… I don't really have a choice."

"Can't you do tomorrow?"

"Pete, it's one night–"

"One night? It's a call I'm not making–"

"Please," you beg, "we need the money, you know we do."

He puffs and blows a raspberry, "shoulda told that sitter to stick around…" he grumbles.

"We can't even afford to pay her for the extra," you mutter.

"I fucking know–"

"Don't swear at me," you warn, "if you hadn't bought that damn corvette–"

"Not doing this again. I'll be home at seven. Happy?"

You roll your eyes, "yeah," you lie. Happy, no, that's not something you feel anymore.

"Pete," a female voice purrs and he hushes them.

"Got it, Anita," he clears his throat, "tell them I'm on my way back."

"Sorry to keep you," you chew your lip, "I'll let you go."

"Sure," he scoffs.

"See ya tonight," you soften your tone, "love ya."

Click. The call ends and you're left dangling. You pull your phone away and look at the screen. No point in using up the last of your break, you might as well just go back to your desk.

🗄️

Your vision glosses as you stare at the messily painted portrait of a house and tree. The sitter sent a picture of Simone's latest artwork and tugs on your impatience to get out of there. You wish you could be there to pick up your kids and hear all about their day. 

Most times you spend the hours after work cooking, cleaning, and trying to rein them in. You're not fun like Emma, their sitter, you're always the voice of reason, the strict ruler of discipline. You send back a heart and black the screen.

Another person packs up for the day, once more tightening the chain that attaches you to your desk. You lean forward, your head pulsing as the brim of your vision blurs. The advil did nothing against your migraine.

You hold your forehead as you squint at the numbers. This is going to take forever. Pushing a budget meeting up one week surely is a personal attack. You need to work on your poker face, you can't do this again. You're too old and tired.

You yawn and fight to keep your eyes open. Maybe Pete can do bath time. You almost snort at that. Right, and hippos are bright pink and friendly.

You shake your head and lean back, trying to stretch out the kinks. You hear the elevator. Eventually you'll get there. 

You look around, realising the desolation of your predicament. Not too many people left, at least not those without offices. You roll each ankle, arches achy just from your low heels.

Your phone buzzes and you ignore it. It's six-thirty. You let it go to voicemail and save your file for good measure.

You think of having another coffee but that will only make your head throb and your night sleepless. Well, more than usual. 

Your cell starts to jitter again. You're agitated as you snatch it up. It's 7:03. Emma's number greets you in blaring white digits. Dammit, you already know what's going on.

You answer, saving again as you wheel the chair back and reach into the drawer to fish out your purse. You keep the phone to your ear as you say 'hi' and struggle to get your jacket on. Pete!

"Hi, um, I'm still waiting for someone to show up–"

"I'm so sorry, Em," you shut off the monitor without bothering to boot down, "Pete said he'd be there. I'm on my way now."

You step around your chair, nearly tripping over it and push it in behind you. You rush across the office in a clomping gait, half-running as you weigh coming in at 4am and convincing security to let you up early. You continue to apologise to Emma as you promise to be home as soon as you can.

You hang up and dial Pete. As you near the elevator, his voicemail plays and you sneer, hitting end and dialing out again. You poke the down button several times and wait for an answer.

"Pick up!" You growl to no one.

"All done for the night?" A lilting taunt brings you around to face Mr. Hansen as he runs a small comb through his mustache, "you work fast."

"Mr. Hansen, I… I have an emergency–"

"Ah, so you're not done," he tuts, "I figured you'd be used to working fast. I'm sure the old man only last about five seconds, huh?"

"Sir," you bite back your offence, "my kids–"

"Aw, mommy's running late for supper. Let me guess, the dead beat can't even boil water."

You want to shriek. Can this man not shut up? This day just won't end and it's really all his fault. You're welling up and about to explode.

"Please," you utter.

"Oh, come on, you got exactly what you wanted, didn't you? Kids, a husband, the whole nine yards," he tucks the comb into his front pocket, "didn't anyone ever tell you they stop fucking you once you pop at a couple watermelons?"

You gulp. What is happening? Your throat tightens up and your eyes glaze. It shouldn't bother you, he's a gross old pervert but what are you? A bitter and sad old woman.

"You're not going to cry, are you? A strong working lady like yourself? Nah, you can hold it in, for the kids. You got a daughter don't ya, you wouldn't want her to see you break–"

You take a step towards him and stop yourself, palm itching to smack him. You raise your chin and bat your lashes. 

"I'll finish the reports at home. I need to go take care of me kids," you fight to keep your voice steady.

"That's the thing about you moms, always the martyr, always looking for special treatment cause you let a guy drop a load indoors," he sneers, "and you're just gonna raise a couple of brats to go off and live the same boring lives."

"Stop," you croak.

"If you're gonna cry, just do it," he goads, "huh, maybe it's menopause kicking in early? All that stress–"

"Good night, Mr. Hansen," you say curtly and face the elevator just as the doors slide apart, "I'll have the numbers done. I promise."

"Oh, I know you will," he snickers, "but you still owe me. For being such an understanding boss, you know?"

You turn around and grimace in confusion. Owe him? He winks and smirks back, "say hi to the kiddos for me."

The doors shut and you close your eyes, hanging your head in defeat. You're going to be up all night, less than ready for the review and certainly unprepared for Mr. Hansen. You can only hope by then he finds a new target.

[vivgst]

COD Headcanons

I mean they're not hc it's just shit I think they say/do but I needed the title okay?

As I previously said this is just my silly little opinion, I would love to read yours but don't take this too personal and I'm saying this cause Imma bout to write SHIT about two characters and I'm scared cause they're loved by the whole fandom.

Okay thats all thanks<3333

Let's start with my favorite piece of shit, shall we?

Alejandro Vargas

I don't care what yall say this man is a CHEATER and he would make you feel guilty about it too because you're not "meeting his needs".

“I’m not sexist???? We cannot do the same things, it's basic biology!”

Maybe he's good in bed, let's give him that.

Alain meza said he loved Rudy so let's assume he's bi, uh... he wouldn't admit that shit, not in a million years, probably would get offended if you even dare to suggest it.

He doesn’t argue to fix things, he argues to repeat how much in the right he is, I feel like he NEVER admits he’s in the wrong, he seems very stubborn.

Now can we address that fucking temper of his? Breathe mf, no ones gonna die if you stop yelling for a second.

I feel like he must’ve had A LOT of trouble when he just joined the army because of his anger issues, think about it for a moment: someone with a higher rank yelling at him and you think he just took it? I doubt it.

MUST HAVE fought with Valeria more than once cause that temper of hers is just as shitty.

I promise I don’t hate him, well I do but he’s one of my favs, I don’t know how to explain this bye.

Simon Riley

He’s very chill I love him <3

I think of him like a very nostalgic man, he thinks a lot about his past, past lovers, past experiences, when he was new in the army, you know? Not in a “I’m still traumatized” way, he’s just nostalgic.

He’s absent minded, he’s always daydreaming (when he’s not doing something important ofc).

Thin and I don’t fucking care, THAT MAN IS THIN, you can even see it sometimes!!!! He’s got chicken legs, I love them.

He really seems to enjoy dad jokes.

He cares a lot about his teammates and I love it, it’s very cute.

Can we talk about how everyone put him as a fucking beast in bed? I don't see it, I think he's ruthless when he needs to but I don't think this applies when it comes to sex, he suffered a lot too and sadly I know too well that sex is pretty fucking terrible after rape, especially because you feel like you're gonna hurt the person you're having sex with so...

John MacTavish

Typa guy everyone loves, even your dad and your grandma's always saying how handsome he is.

Maybe he was bullied bc of his accent but he just told them to go fuck themselves.

Caring and loving, buys his partner flowers and their favorite candy/chocolates/desserts.

Remembers anniversaries, birthdays, medical or school appointments.

Too charismatic and funny.

Kyle Garrick

He’s too good for his own good… I feel like he always end up going out with INSANE people, the jealous type, they’re always bitching and making him angry and stressed but he forgives them cause he’s an angel.

Very sweet, loves cooking for people he loves.

Kinda family oriented.

He smells good, I can almost smell his perfumeeeeee he smells good, he spends MONEY on it too.

Even the devil is afraid of him when he’s mad.

I think he's very private about his life in general, doesn't like to vent his problems.

Hot lover.

John Price

Now this man is a FATHER, my fucking dad I swear.

He seems pretty conservative to me, not in a bad way like he wants you to be his personal maid and slave, more like he wants to date to marry, hates casual sex.

Loves whiskey.

Dad energy, he would be so caring and loving with his child, he would give that baby the moon.

I don’t think he would love to date a younger woman, not a woman in her twenties at least, I think he would be into women his age.

If you feel disappointment by that, maybe you could try fixing your relationship with your dad, sweetheart ;).

Hates confrontation and loves to work things out.

Let’s not talk about how sex with be with the old man, okay? Thanks.

He's not that old, I get that but he looks like he's fucking 68.

Phillip Graves

He looks kinda daddy in that pic, not gonna lie.

“How come you don’t want to have sex? What about me? Have you thought about how that makes me feel? If your head hurts, sex would help but you never consider me, I’ll sleep in the couch”.

A selfish, self-centered bitch, only thinks about himself.

Feeling good having sex with him? Aw baby, try again cause this mf would use you like a damn toy and he couldn’t care less about your feelings or how much pain you’re in.

Cheater, he wouldn’t even be quiet about it. “Oh you want to divorce me? And where are you gonna go, sugar? You’re nothing without me”.

Doesn’t fucking know where the clit is, he doesn’t have a fucking clue.

Of course straight, loves to be white and American.

“Of course I can say whatever I want, I’m from America I have freedom of speech”.

Fuck you graves.

Rodolfo Parra

Perfect.

He seems so sweet and kind and considerate I love him.

Smart as hell, probably got the best grades when he was a kid.

Doesn’t hate anyone, no one hates him.

Loves nature and animals but he can’t enjoy it too much cause he is always busy.

Dreams about having a big family and a dog (a golden, probably).

Forget about having rough sex UNLESS he’s mad (fr mad like losing his shit but that doesn’t happen frequently).

Could be a teacher if he wasn’t in the army, he’s very patient and can explain things easily.

Have a pretty smile.

Valeria Garza aka MAMI

Feels like she needs to prove something, she was underestimated for so long in the army that now she’s always trying to prove to herself how badass and good at her job she is.

Almost no one knows the real Valeria, her favorite things, music taste, if she prefers cold or hot, coffee or tea etc.

She hates cold weather with all her MIGHT.

Likes to smoke only when she’s stressed.

Likes animals but thinks they’re so much work and she doesn’t have the time.

Did drugs once and hated it.

Feels guilty when she spots a church but she WOULD NEVER admit this shit to anyone.

Used to the worst of life so she didn’t like when someone is kind with her, is like “tf am I supposed to do with it???” but she gets used to it eventually.

I don’t think she has anger issues but def she doesn’t fucking know how to regulate her emotions, she lets stress take over her.

She would love a narcowife, kind of woman who wears a lot of beachy dresses and have a shitty personality like her (like Kate del Castillo in La Reina del Sur or in Bad Boys, exactly that kind of narcowife) (I’m kinda projecting, sorry lol).

I can’t picture her with a sweet girl and I think a sweet girl wouldn’t be able to handle that woman.

She keeps arguing even though she realized she’s in the wrong.

She wouldn't be able to spend a lot of time with her S.O, she's such a workaholic.

I don't think she likes to wear men clothes.

I don't think she hates kids but I can't picture her with kids.

Wouldn't divorce once she's married.

Btw I didn’t want to make this too sexual bc lately this fandom is full of just that, too much smut, too much violence and rape in the smut and it’s so graphic that I feel I’m watching instead of reading wtf, its uncomfortable and I honestly can’t picture the characters being that violent and vile.

As I said in my previous hcs… these guys are surrounded by violence, stress and blood every day, I personally don’t think they wanna get home to torture their partners (well, maybe graves cause he is a piece of shit that mf. Okay kidding, not even Graves is that much of a bastard).

[arandomferretsthoughts]

This popped into my brain and wouldnt leave so I wanted to share it with yall

—

A young boy and his parents are attacked on the street, only the boy makes it out.

It's a rare occurrence, an event like this, the police find the man and arrest him and everyone else is safe.

Bruce Wayne goes home to a mansion that feels larger and lonelier than ever, with only his butler to take care of him.

And yet the young boy finds himself too afraid to leave for more than necessities.

The young boy grows into a young man, he inherits his parents business and starts to leave his house a little more, unwilling to lose this connection to his lost parents but still he finds himself afraid, afraid to be around people, to be seen.

Until one day at a gala he must attend for the sake of the shareholders, he sees a man, a reporter, who holds himself in an odd way, clearly a tall and strong man who could be intimidating if he tried but the man held himself as if to appear smaller and unassuming, Bruce's brain flitters across the idea that the man is hiding something, or more hiding himself.

His brain that has soaked up comics and movies for years so as to not grow bored in his home.

And when he learns of all the good this reporter has been trying to do, he thinks the man would make a good superhero.

When he goes home the thought wont leave him alone, he thinks of a world with a hero, a world that needs a hero, one where his parents murder would have just been one of many, but this hero wouldn't have been there to help, he was too bright, a hero for the daytime, not for the shadows of night.

He thinks maybe he could have been a hero in this world, one that saves other kids from suffering a fate like his own.

One who is afraid and fights anyway.

The next time he leaves his home there's an event at a museum, with some special objects that are in town for a few days. There he sees a woman who knows so much about ancient relics and is so beautiful that he doesn't believe she could be just a normal human.

He thinks she would share her knowledge and kindness with the world given the chance.

While he remains mostly alone, other than his Parental figure/Butler, he also keeps in contact with two friends from when he was in school.

One is now a psychiatrist, with an interest in learning about fear and how it can change people, and the other a psychologist, both working at the city's asylum. 

Harleen is who Bruce considers his best friend, a goofy but kind girl who cares alot about others, she tells him about a patient, without going into much detail, who she claims would be cute if he wasn't so insane. Smiling and laughing while he talks about harming others. 

She got a boyfriend somewhere along the way, a man Bruce is sure abuses her but she can't seem to leave.

The three get in a fight one day, and lose contact, and Bruce supposes you can't have heroes without villains, though he can't bring himself to think of Harley as a villain by her own choice.

On the news Bruce learns of a man working to better science as they know it, a man who always seems to be a few minutes too late, he follows the story until the day something goes wrong and the man is there on time to shield workers from flying chemicals, killing him but saving others, Bruce thinks the man a hero in death, and could have been one in life, one who always made it to where he was needed just on time.

As time went on Bruce tried to get out more in normal ways, one night he went to the circus, he enjoyed it, reminding him of the day when he was little and his parents brought him to one just like it.

It was a few days later that he learned at the next show there was an accident, and a little boy lost his parents, he remembered being small and feeling alone when he had lost his, thankful for the man who cared for him he wished he could do the same for this little boy, but knew he didn't have the skills needed.

He could, however, make sure the boy got somewhere safe, and other kids like him too.

So he held a fundraiser and donated a lot of money into the foster system, doing what he could to make it safe.

And he thought of a world where he could have taken the little circus boy into his home, making it brighter and less lonely.

As he ventured out more and more Bruce travelled through different parts of the city, he saw a group of little children cowering behind one bigger who had just chased off a grown man, Bruce smiled as the kids cheered for the little hero.

It was the news that later told him the boy was dead, a homeless kid who stopped being seen, the little hero was gone.

Bruce held another fundraiser, this one for the homeless shelters and kitchens.

It was the news that told him the boy was not dead, found by the police, with other stolen children. 

Children that returned to a better place.

The day he lost his last parent is the day where he began to feel truly alone, the only person there for him gone, but Alfred would live forever in his memory's as the man who loved and cared for him.

He reached out to Harly again not wanting to be all alone, and they made up, he learned she had gotten free of her abusive boyfriend and had fallen for a woman who's love of nature was refreshing and new.

He knew little about his neighbours, but he tried to get to know them better, he struggled but eventually learned that the woman that lived there was very sick and that the man was not home much, when he learned of the child who spent so much of his time alone, he thought the kid was brave and told him if he ever needed anything to just ask.

The kid needed someone the day when his mother didn't wake up and his father wasn't home. Bruce did what he could, he was no father but he cared for the kid the best he could until his was able to return.

Bruce knew it was expected of him to have a family, someone to give his things and his business when he passed. He tried dating, but nothing ever seemed to work out.

However one day he learned of a child, a son, one the mother hadn't told him about, he tried to gain any sort of parental rights but couldn't get any custody, only visitation, he met the boy, a quiet but fiercely determined child, And he loved his son even without seeing him much.

When the quiet, hermit, billionaire Bruce Wayne, best known for appearing, donating large amounts of money to random causes and then disappearing again, passed away his belongings and company were to be split between two people, Timothy Drake, and Damian al Ghul, when the two met up to split his things, they found writings the man had never told anyone of.

Writings of a world where regular people became heroes, where aliens walked amongst humans, and where magic made lives exciting.

They agreed to publish the story's for the world to see.

To most people, the writings were just an entertaining fiction story that a billionaire wrote with his unlimited free time.

But to the retired reporter who knew his height frightened others, who now rested and found the stories learned that someone had seen how he stood, and what he had done and thought of him as a hero,

To the artefact collector and preserver who learned this man believed she was so knowledgeable about what she had strived to learn everything about, as well as beautiful, that he thought her to be blessed by the gods,

To the old psychologist who mourns her friend, a man who thought that no matter what she went through she'd always make the right choice in the end, 

To the family of a man who lost his life saving others, who this guy they had never met thought so highly of,

To the man that lost his only family to an accident at their circus, he was a man who wanted him get a good home, where'd he'd get anything he ever wanted, 

To a man that went through so much, believed dead for so long to learn this man who he had only seen once, saw him not as a poor homeless kid but as a fighter and protector,

To the boy that new the man for a short time, as a temporary guardian and protector, who made him feel safe and not alone when he needed it most, 

And To the boy who wished he could have known his father, but was kept away by his mother,

The storys showed to them all that this man, who some thought of as cold and egotistical, as he locked himself away and refused to be around others, was actually an anxious, lonely man, who saw what others didn't and cared about everyone in his own odd way.

—

I just thought it was a cool idea I wanted to share with yall, so I hope you guys like it

This is my first post on here, so please be nice,

Also, ignore any spelling or grammar mistakes Dyslexia goes brrr

If you want to know what I think he based the other heroes and character off of, just ask, and I'll figure it out!

Thanks for reading, and have a good day!

Edit:

Thanks for all the nice comments and reblogs :)

I genuinely didn't realize how sad this was, lol. Sorry, not sorry, guys

[ladyodium]

I Could Not Prevent It

S2x7

TW: I am going to be discussing some very heavy topics. I will ask that yall respect these topics. I will be going into Domestic Violence, Lynching, Racism, R/pe, and Gore. (SPOILERS IF YOU CONTINUE TO READ!)

So, as a Black Woman this was a hard watch. From the beginning of the lynching Louis, Claudia and Madeline were bagged and dragged off into an unknown place. Louis was being beaten on the floor while Claudia was thrown in the rat box and had people on top of it so she wouldn’t get out.

I want y’all to notice how only Madeleine is not harmed, Santiago is messing with her mind, but Claudia and Louis are being physical harmed. They all had their achilles tendons cut to the bone to prevent them from walking, they weren’t allowed to speak and if they did the coven vampires would punish them. Claudia and Louis lose their names, they are now “The accused”, Madeleine is the only one whose name is said.

The bagging, dragging, the torture, the beatings, and the mock trial all hit a little too close to home. You have two Black people and a Jewish person on stage and I can’t help but think how traumatizing this must be for Madeline. Who was dragged from her shop by an angry mob, forced on her knees and had her head shaved. Then she continued to have constant harassment on her shop and person, let’s not forget she was almost graped, and no one was going to save her. 

The film that shows in the back ground as Lestat is telling his “story” is such an important detail. “A white man who just came to New Orleans and is being Hunted by a Black male.” We the viewers know that this isn’t true. Lestat pursued Louis, Lestat wanted Louis, Lestat was obsessed with Louis. But Louis can’t convey that, he’s not allowed to speak, to defend himself. Claudia, Louis and Madeline have to sit and watch a Butch of white people laugh and mock them. They have to sit and suffer for something that was really their last option. 

Diction is very important. When Santiago is questioning Lestat he uses words like “you were forced to…you were manipulated….you were sad, and lonely….you had no choice.”

Lestat is the victim in this lynching, he was the one who was hurt, not Louis, not Claudia. He was a victim of love and passion! Of loneliness! Louis was the one who pursued him, manipulated him, made him lonely.

“I..,a vampire, was being hunted…”

“Louis was saying “come to me”…

“Speaking your own unspeakable desires…in hopes that I would come to you”

“Louis was deceptively agile with words”

“He abandoned me in our town house”

Lestat is not the victim in his relationship with Louis. Is Lestat a victim and an abuser? Yes, these two things can be true at the same time, but he was not the victim for what he did to Louis.

Claudia and Louis are described to be these two black vampires who killed their loving Maker (master). The flashback to the fight that happened really messed with me, so I’m just gonna believe that Louis, Lestat and Claudia’s versions of the fights some of them were true. The portrayal of trying to make Louis this monster who rejected Lestat and was an animal himself because he consumed animal blood is telling.

Often Black people are seen as monsters, they are the aggressors even when we are victims. I want people to understand how Louis and Claudia being Black played into their vampirism. They are immortal creatures of the night, but they are still BLACK. New Orleans was notorious for its lynching and Louis was not safe from that, no Black person was. People will say Louis was a pimp and he’s manipulating Armand and Lestat, but I feel like yall fail to understand that Louis didn’t have options. A black man in 1960 New Orleans didn’t have the options to become anything greater than what white people allowed him to be. We see that when he plays the poker game, when he helps Anderson and gets called a Nigger, and when the race riots happen and they burned down his business. 

“She called me an angel…..they burned her building because of me….”

(Context: Claudia thought Louis was God’s angel coming to save her and Louis feels guilty because she was going to die just because Louis was a black man dominating the market. )

Santiago has humiliated Claudia by making her this minstrel act. To have her sing, dance, and parade around like a fool in front of a white audience. He hates that Louis doesn’t want to join them, and that Louis is fine by himself. Louis grimacing as he watches Claudia was my face throughout that episode. He then displays her private diaries to an audience, he tells them to pass it around! Mocks her accent, makes fun at her pain and sorrows. I’m pretty sure he read what happened to her with that vampire who graped her.

She’s not a victim anymore but a prop they can laugh at and mock for their own amusement. She was right when she said “this isn’t a trial, it’s a stoning.” It’s a lynching happening in real time. Notice how Madeleine is the only one allowed the option of redemption, she’s allowed to choose her fate. She chooses death with her companion, and she had my heart for that. She really was a ride or die.

Claudia’s last act is to perform her song to the masses one more time because that’s what she was, entertainment. The way Santiago picks up her yellow dress as some kind of token really made me think of how millions of white people would have picnics and bring their children to watch the burning, lynching of black people and then they would take tokens of the kill.

To conclude, this was a hard episode and Lestat was pissing me off. Also, ARMAND IN HIS LITTLE ASS PLAYPEN?! BFFR! Shout out to the actors! They really made this episode.