#as long as someone else does the presentation

[tracksuitponytail]

As the year comes to a close, I want to thank all the writers in this fandom one more time—not only for providing me with a welcome escape but also for inspiring me to try my own hand at writing. Wishing all of you a smooth transition into what will, hopefully, be a more gentle 2025.

🌨 Until by @allwaswell16 [E, 38k, farm]

Rural Eagle County, Colorado wasn’t the type of place to find a famous musician or actor. At least not until songwriter Louis Tomlinson showed up with pop star Niall Horan to visit his uncle’s horse ranch, and they just happened to find themselves next door to a reclusive former movie star.

🌨 Tell Me Your Secrets, Teach Me Your Ways by @insightfulinsomniac [E, 23k, omegaverse]

A regency-ish royalty AU featuring overeager soulmates who maybe give into temptation a little too much on their secret journey of sexual discovery.

🌨 the school of extraordinary lovers by @stylinsoncity [E, 191k, enemies to lovers]

harry is a third-year witch and violinist at Laitswold, the only magical academy in the UK, with dreams of taking on the world, and hopefully breaking the centuries-old curse on his family while he's at it. he does not dream of facing off against his childhood rival and duet partner, but louis is back in town after six years abroad, so that's exactly what happens.

🌨 Curves of your lips rewrite history by @lunarheslwt [E, 8k, royalty]

Everyone bows to Prince Harry, but in the privacy of his four walls, the one he is bowing and kneeling for is his knight, Sir Louis.

🌨 Streetlights in the dark blue by @itsmotivatingcara [E, 120k, murder mystery]

Louis Tomlinson is an investigative journalist.

He's spent the better part of his life researching the psyches of serial killers, and publishing articles to provide a deeper understanding into their methodologies. His pen-name, Orion, is well known around the globe. An alter-ego that keeps his pockets lined, and his identity private.

That is, until a letter arrives at his home address. A letter containing a symbol. One dubbed by a serial killer who'd vanished three years prior. The postage stamp? Bainbridge Island.

He'd spent so long peering into the darkness, it should be no surprise to discover that something had been looking back.

The island presents a host of mysteries. It also houses a nosy witch, determined to break down his walls.

And an FBI agent hellbent on shattering his carefully constructed world.

🌨 Wanksgiving 2024 @wanksgivingfest [fic fest, masturbation]

Why celebrate Thanksgiving when you could celebrate Wanksgiving? And what better way to do that than to write a fic about wanking?

A collection of masturbatory delights and the first fic fest I ever participated in.

🌨 Too Hard to Describe by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright [E, 1.5k, threesome]

Harry's agreed to let someone else fuck Louis. As long as Louis describes it all to him as it's happening.

🌨 'tis the damn season by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf [E, 17k, girl direction]

Harry returns to her small hometown over the holiday season and starts to think about the road not taken.

🌨 To Fall For The Bumblebee by @jaywriteshome [T, 64k, fake relationship]

Their relationship may be fake, but their feelings are real.

After lying to his mom about having a boyfriend, Louis needs to find a fake one stat, so he has someone to bring to his family's annual Christmas party. But as he begins his search, things take a turn, and he attracts the attention of not one man but four.

🌨 Collision by itjustkindahappened / @tequiladimples [E, 226k, enemies to lovers]

Mythology/Fairytale!AU in which Louis is a dainty fairy with a temper who wants to be intimidating and Harry hurts people. Naturally, they hate each other.

[atleastpleasetelephone]

Gentle on My Mind - Chapter 8

Initially set in 1967 when Elvis is filming Clambake. Feeling miserable and trapped after the Colonel banishes Larry and the spiritual texts, Elvis invites Gloria to keep him company through the last five days of filming. Gloria is an aspiring movie editor and more importantly she's a lot of fun. Will she be what Elvis needs to get him out of the depressive funk he's in?

Catch up with the other parts here.

Many thanks to @sissylittlefeather being my beta reader on this one.

A/N: Just to say there's some fairly dark stuff in this chapter, so please do have a look at the warnings before you read.

Pairing: Elvis x OC - Gloria, a budding film editor.

Word count: 4.3K

TWs: Infidelity, vomiting, graphic descriptions of childbirth, sexual assault (Elvis is not involved), descriptions of an abusive/coercive partner (again, not Elvis), fainting, crying, teasing, oral (m and f receiving), face fucking, size kink, edging, panty sniffing!Elvis.

Elvis knows she’s gone for good as soon as he wakes up and sees the empty bed beside him. He almost feels like he dreamt the whole thing, but as he looks around the room he sees the evidence that he didn’t. The burn on the carpet, a streak of make-up on the mirror, the polaroids on his bedside table. He picks them up and looks through them, staring at the lipstick marks she left and her lazily scrawled message. 

If she loves me, why did she leave?

He starts to cry, big, heaving sobs. His Glory. Gone to get married. 

***

As she says her vows, Gloria feels like she’s outside of her body, watching someone else do it. She keeps telling herself that this is the only thing she could’ve done, the right thing, but it doesn’t feel like it. She watches the Gloria who’s getting married smiling as Roger pushes the ring onto her finger. Watches everyone looking at her, her friends and family, her daddy beaming proudly. She desperately tries to get back into her own body as Roger kisses her, tries to be present in that moment, but her mind still wanders back to him. It’s only been a week since she lay in Elvis’ bed and told him she loved him. It’s not long enough to get him out of her mind. 

***

Roger tells her to throw away her birth control that night, and she does it gladly. She can’t wait to be a mama. Roger makes love to her slowly and passionately, and she finally finds herself almost back in her own body again. They go on their honeymoon the next day. He’d initially tried to suggest Hawaii, but she almost flinched at the word. Instead they fly to Cabo and spend the week on the beach there. Lazy living, cooking and eating outdoors, sex twice a day, cocktails whenever they want. She’s happy, for hours at a time. And then something reminds her of Elvis, and she feels a twinge of sadness. That will pass though, it has to. It’s not as if she’ll see him again now. And she has so much else to look forward to. 

***

The house they move into together is still in ‘Frisco, but a part of the city where she knows no-one else. Her friends are a long and frustrating car ride away, her family too. She walks around the big, empty house and plans the furniture she’ll buy. Wandering into one of the other bedrooms, she holds her belly as she daydreams about the nursery she’ll design for her baby. Not that she’s showing yet, and it’s too early to tell anyone, but she knows. 

In those first few weeks in the house she doesn’t even get the polaroids out. They’re hidden in a book, and she almost forgets about them. Her baby is growing inside her and she’s busy planning and buying, painting and instructing delivery men. Roger comes home every day to a home-cooked meal and he kisses her on the temple and calls her baby. They have sex a couple of times a week, and she tells herself she doesn’t need any more. Soon she’ll be a mama anyway. Sex isn’t that important now. 

***

10 May 1969

Glory!

On vacation in Hawaii and I had to send you a postcard. Congratulations on your wedding, I hope you and Roger are very happy. The sun is shining here and we’ve spent a lot of time on the beach. Yisa loves it here! Maybe tonight I’ll try and cook something on the BBQ. 

Love

Your big boy xx

***

Gloria nearly faints when she sees the postcard. Her legs feel weak and she thinks she might be sick. She sits down on the floor and reads it over and over again. How could he do this? Send her this? When he knows she lives here with Roger? How does he even have her address? Her stomach rolls again and she runs to the bathroom to throw up. 

***

“I DON’T WANT TO PUSH!” 

Gloria feels outside of her own body again, watching the woman on the hospital bed, sweating and bloody and screaming that she doesn’t want this anymore. The doctor tries to talk her down, tells her that it won’t be much longer even though she’s sure that’s a damn lie. Roger left ages ago, he can’t stand the sight of blood and she’d already cussed him out and tried to punch him. Eventually they give her some insane cocktail of drugs that help her give birth but do nothing for the pain. They give her stitches for the tear and hand her a crying, wrinkled newborn. She holds him and cries, not sure whether they’re tears of sadness or joy or both. She’s not in a hurry to do that again. She names him Corey.

***

11 October 1969

Glory,

I’m in Hawaii again and thinking of you. My first shows in Vegas were back in July and August. I wonder if you saw anything in the papers about them. I wonder if you think of me at all. I hope we see each other again some time. I’ll leave tickets on the door for you when I play Frisco. I don’t know when, but I hope to soon. 

Your big boy xx

***

Gloria is in too much of a daze to be upset when she finds the postcard. It’s lucky that she scooped up the mail first, lucky Roger didn’t see it. She hides it with the other one, and the polaroids. Staggers to bed and lies down, hoping to get some sleep before Corey wakes up again. 

She lies in bed that night, waiting for Roger to finish brushing his teeth. He gets in next to her and pulls her close to him, immediately starting to kiss her neck. She grumbles. 

“C’mon, baby.”

He pushes her nightie up and starts to pull her panties down. She stares at him in disbelief. She’s so tired. 

“Roger… I’m still not ready…”

He shakes his head, pulling his pyjama bottoms down and starting to stroke himself. 

“It’s been such a long time, baby.”

She tries to wriggle away from him. He hadn’t wanted sex for a long time. Ever since she’d started to show, in fact. She tried to initiate, but he just rolled away. Even though she’s had her stitches out now and the doctor gave her the okay to have sex again, she feels like she never wants anything else near her vagina. All she can think of is the pain and the tear and it all still seems too raw. 

“Roger, no.”

He leans on top of her, pushing her legs open roughly and starting to push his dick inside. She whines. 

“You’re my wife,” he tells her, firmly. “And I want you now. Be quiet.”

She cries silently as he rapes her. She doesn’t think of it as rape at the time, doesn’t think that’s even possible when you’re married. But later on she realises it for what it is. She said no and he carried on regardless. 

***

The months pass by slowly, the house is finished and Gloria has nothing to do in the days apart from taking care of Corey. There’s not even any housework to do since Roger hired the maid. Gloria thinks she’s too pretty to be a maid really, but the house is always spotless. She fell pregnant again not long after she gave birth, and it’s not long now until she’ll be in the hospital again. As soon as she found out she started to look for news of Elvis in the papers. Left Corey with the nanny and took herself to the movie theatre to see Change Of Habit. She looks at the polaroids every day, and sometimes sits in the bed she shares with Roger and touches herself, looking at them and thinking of Elvis. She re-reads the postcards too. Missing him more than she imagined she could. 

Her second birth is a lot easier, and this time it’s a girl. She names her Jacqueline, Jackie for short. She knows that Roger will want another child so she calls her sister and asks for help. Her sister’s husband goes with her to the doctor to help her get back on birth control. She doesn’t tell Roger and prays he’ll just give up on the whole thing. She hates him touching her, but what choice does she have?

***

“Elvis! She’s here!” 

Those are the words he’s been dying to hear, thinking about them so hard he almost wonders if he’s hallucinated them. 

“What?” He snaps. 

“Gloria. She’s here, E.” Joe repeats. 

“Well move her to a box, make sure she can see properly. And get her backstage afterwards. Don’t lose her.”

Joe nods and just says yes. He decides it’s best not to get into the fact that he’s already moved Gloria and her sister into a box and told them he’ll collect them afterwards so they can go backstage. He’s never seen Elvis so agitated. 

Elvis’ stage fright is worse than ever before. He can’t believe she’s finally going to see him perform. He has to do everything right. Panicking, he runs to the bathroom to throw up.

***

Gloria stares at him as he comes onstage. He looks incredible in white and she can’t help being reminded of Walter Hale. He launches into That’s All Right at almost double-time, ripping through the words and the music as if he’s in a race to reach the end. She feels like he calms down a few songs in, and his eyes finally flick up to hers. She stares back at him and doesn’t know quite what else to do. She tries to make her mouth curl into a smile but she can’t do it. All she wants to do is cry. 

Elvis sees her looking sad and keeps trying to do things to cheer her up. He messes with lyrics, he karate-kicks the air, he talks about all sorts of nonsense between songs. Somewhere around Blue Suede Shoes it seems to have worked, and he finally sees that beautiful sunshine smile of hers. He wonders what has happened since he saw her last to make her seem so melancholy. He doesn’t have much time after the show before he’s driven to LA, but he has to find out what’s wrong with his Glory.

Her sister had raised an eyebrow at the way Joe had run up to her and made them move seats, the look on his face had suggested that Gloria meant a bit more to his boss than just someone he’d worked with on set a few times. But she isn’t one to ask questions. She doesn’t think Gloria is happy with Roger, and as she watches her sister watch Elvis, she thinks that this is the happiest she’s seen her for a while. 

***

Gloria trembles all the way backstage, sure her legs are going to give out. When she finally gets there he’s almost too much to deal with, it’s like he’s glowing with some kind of ethereal light. 

“Glory? Glory!” 

Elvis catches her in his arms as she faints, carrying her to the nearest couch and shooing people out of the way. She comes round and his blue eyes are the first thing she sees. 

“Elvis,” she whispers. “Is it really you?”

He nods. “Really me, Glory. Just take it easy now. Ya fainted, honey.”

“I’m Patricia, her sister.”

Elvis looks up quickly at the slightly stern tone. Making sure Gloria is propped up against the back of the sofa he stands up and shakes her hand. 

“Pleased to meet ya, Patricia. Do you go by Patricia, or Pat? Did ya enjoy the show?”

Patricia wobbles herself under his intense gaze. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen a man so attractive, never mind had all of his attention focussed on her at once. 

“Y-yes, thanks. And, uh… Pat… is fine.” She finds herself blushing like a teenager.

“Good. Glad ya liked it, Pat. And thanks for coming with Glory-a…” he quickly switches to her full name. “I uh.. I had really wanted to see her.”

Pat isn’t stupid, and Elvis carries on laying it on thick. It’s not long before he’s cleared out the entire room, including her, telling Joe to look after her for the next hour or so. He has to find out what’s wrong with his Glory. 

“You feelin’ better, honey?” He asks, after she finishes a glass of water. 

“Yes. Yeah. I think so.”

“You sure?” He strokes her cheek gently with the backs of his fingers. 

She looks at him for a moment and then shakes her head, bursting into tears. “No.” She grabs his shirt and presses her face against his chest, her body shaking. 

“Oh, baby. What’s wrong?” 

He holds her to him tightly, shushing her and kissing the top of her head. “You can tell me.”

“It’s n-nothing. I’m just tired.” She hiccoughs. 

“Is it Roger?” 

She lets go of his shirt and looks up at him, wiping her eyes. “No. Not Roger.” She can’t tell him. Can’t tell him she’s got trapped in this marriage with a man she hates. She doesn’t know what he might do. “Just um… the kids… making me tired.”

His face lights up immediately. “Kids?”

She smiles a little and reaches in her purse for the photos that her and Roger had had taken the other week. “Here. Corey and Jackie.”

“Oh Glory. They are both so beautiful. Just like their mama.”

She smiles a little more. She does love her kids. Even if they keep her awake most of the night and can’t hold a decent conversation between them. 

“Have you got a photo of Lisa?” She asks. Of course she knows what Lisa-Marie looks like. Everyone does. But she wants to see him puff up with pride again. 

“Yeah… yes… here,” he grabs his wallet and pulls out a tiny photo. 

“She’s beautiful.” She looks up at him through her lashes. “Just like her Daddy.”

He beams back at her, taking the photo back and tucking it away again safely. 

“Did you get my postcards?”

She can’t help smiling again. “Yes. Although you shouldn’t sign them off like that! What if Roger had seen?!”

Elvis chuckles. “Maybe Roger needs to know he has some healthy competition.”

“Elvis!” She shoves him playfully. 

“Oh you never used to call me Elvis, Glory.”

She narrows her eyes at him, still smiling despite herself. “I never used to be married.”

He shrugs, grabbing her and putting her on his lap. “It’s never stopped me.”

She can’t stop giggling now. “Well I know that! Do you think that’s a good thing?!” Her hands settle onto the back of his neck as he pulls her closer to him with his big hands. 

“Cilla’s not the girl for me, Glory,” he tells her, his hand moving to her face, pulling her towards him for a kiss. 

She lets him kiss her a little, then pulls back. “Oh really. And who is, exactly?”

“I think you know the answer to that.”

He pulls her into another kiss and doesn’t let her out of this one so easily. Her heart is beating wildly, and she feels familiar warmth spreading between her legs. She feels guilt too. She’s married. 

They pull apart, breathing hard, their noses touching. “Did you like the show?” He asks. 

She nods. “You were incredible. I loved the gospel songs. And the outfit.” She smirks. “And your dance moves.”

He sniggers. “Why are you saying it like that?”

“Those aren’t dance moves, big boy, those are sex moves.”

He blushes and laughs and tries to deny it. “N-no, I jus’... feel the music…”

“Oh yeah, yeah. You feel the music. I’ve seen you move your hips like that before and there definitely wasn’t any music!”

They both dissolve into gales of laughter then. He thinks how good it is to see her laugh like this again. He’d been worried about her when he first saw her. Maybe she is just tired. 

When they recover his thumbs are stroking her hip bones. She looks down and then back up at him and smiles, almost shyly. He smiles back and picks her up, putting her back onto the sofa and climbing down off it himself, until he’s kneeling on the floor. He puts a hand on each of her knees. 

“I’ve gotta go to LA tonight, but I’ve got a bit of time to make ya feel good. If ya want me to.”

She doesn’t hesitate, nodding and then croaking out a “yes,” just to make sure. 

He smiles that cute, lopsided grin of his, and then starts to kiss her knee, then the inside of her thigh, pushing her dress up as he goes. She spreads her legs for him, willing his mouth where she wants it. But Elvis is in the mood for a little teasing, and when he reaches the top of her thigh he skips over her panties and starts kissing down the other leg. She moans a little. He looks up, his eyes full of mirth. 

“Y’got somethin’ to say, honey?” Words buzzing against her skin. 

She snorts air out of her nose. “Thought you were making me feel good?”

His head moves back up again, pressing a single kiss to the outside of her panties. “Ya telling me my Glory doesn’t like to be teased no more?” 

She almost squeaks, feeling the words against her pussy, watching him close his eyes and so obviously breathe in her scent.

Chuckling to himself, he kisses the fabric again, a little harder, pushing it against her pussy and then licking where her arousal starts to seep through. Her hands reach to tangle in his hair, pulling his face against her. She feels him laughing against her again. 

“Elvis!”

He moves his head back. “Uh-uh. Ya don’t call me that.”

She groans, pulling his head back where she wants it as hard as she can. “Big boy…” she mumbles. “Please.” Letting up slightly on his head in the hopes he might move her panties out of the way. 

His hands slide up her legs and a finger hooks her panties to one side for just enough time for him to lick a quick stripe up her, making her cry out. Then he lets them go again, breathes in her scent and almost nips her with his teeth through the fabric. She pulls his hair. 

“You’re making me crazy!”

Squirming against him, wrapping her legs around his head now and hoping that will give her what she wants. She can feel when he’s grinning, when he giggles against her, that he’s finding this whole thing very entertaining. Even gripping him with her thighs, rolling her hips and basically grinding against his face isn’t getting her any closer to orgasm. She lets her legs flop open and lets his head go, groaning in frustration as her head tips back and her eyes close. 

Elvis wastes no time taking her panties off and diving right into her pussy, making her moan and throw her head forwards again to look at him. He’s not giggling anymore, he’s doing everything he possibly can to make her come as fast as possible, and it’s working. Her hands find his hair again and she grips it between her fingers as she rides his face, his tongue deep inside her as his nose presses against her clit. 

“Oh fuck. Fuck…” she mumbles, feeling herself about to snap. 

His hands push her legs even further apart and he somehow buries his face even deeper in her pussy, coaxing that dizzying high out of her. He loves watching her come undone, the way her voice breaks, the arch of her back pushing her breasts forward. With one final moan she comes and he licks her patiently through it, trying to somehow keep breathing despite the way she’s holding him against her.

“Oh my god,” she murmurs as she lets him go, flopping back onto the sofa again. 

“Was it good, baby?” He teases, that amused little look on his face again as he wipes it with his shirt sleeve. 

She opens her eyes and shakes her head a little, grinning back. “Oh yeah. Okay. It was good.” Rolling her eyes a little. “You’re still the best I’ve ever had. Come here.” Patting the sofa cushion. 

He grins and does as he’s told, expecting a kiss or a cuddle. Surprised when she leans over and undoes his belt, unzips his pants and pulls his dick out. 

“Payback time.”

His eyes go wide. “Oh honey… no… I mean…”

“Awwww. Big boy doesn’t like being teased?” She taunts, running her tongue around the head. 

He groans. The way he’d just treated her this was going to be torture. 

“Please, Glory,” he tries. 

She just giggles a little and then takes him in her mouth, swirling her tongue around. His hand immediately moves to the back of her head, fingers in her hair. Just as he’s starting to forget what she’d said about the teasing, she pulls off him and licks the tip a couple of times like a lollipop. He throws his head back and groans. 

“Oh, you think that’s bad?” 

Wrapping her hand around him, she starts to pump his dick, picking up speed as she slides her mouth back around him again. Feeling his fingers grip her hair, pulling it a little, hearing his breathing speed up until he’s panting and she’s pretty sure he’s close… and letting go and just slowly licking him again. 

“FUCK.”

She moves her head back off him entirely and leans an elbow on his shoulder, looking into his eyes. His face is red and he’s breathless, and she can’t help but feel he looks a little furious. 

“You gonna say sorry?”

He bites his lip. “No.”

She bursts out laughing and he can’t help joining in. “No?”

His eyes dart around the empty room and then he looks back at her, almost sheepishly. “Do it again.”

She’s only shocked for a second, and then she immediately goes back to work on his dick, not wanting him to change his mind. Getting down off the sofa, between his legs, she works him slowly until he’s whining for more, and then starts to pick up speed, her other hand massaging his balls. Sliding her mouth over the head again, she flattens her tongue against it, listening to his tells, watching his face, knowing the exact time to pull away and go back to stroking him agonisingly slowly. 

The noise he makes this time actually makes Joe burst into the room. 

“Boss! Oh… ah… sorry…” Joe blushes and then immediately disappears again. 

“Fuck’s sake!” Elvis shouts after him, then looks down at Gloria and can’t help laughing. 

She’s almost hysterical, her head against his thigh, laughing and laughing at Joe’s facial expressions. 

“Oh God he looked so worried!” She finally manages to get out. 

Elvis smirks. “He should. I’m gonna fucking kill him later.”

“I better not do that again. The police might break down the door this time,” she quips, and before Elvis has a chance to answer her mouth is all around him again. 

She takes him in as far as she can, then starts to bob her head up and down, his hand grabbing her hair again to help her. She squeezes his balls as she moves faster, and he rewards her with a loud satisfying groan. Starting to thrust into her mouth, his hips snap upwards, his hand holding her head still now so he can fuck her throat. He doesn’t last long like this, groaning again as he comes hard, his orgasm hitting him like a train and making him slightly dizzy. His hips jerk a couple more times and then he lets her head go, sighing as he flops against the sofa. She gets up and onto his lap, kissing him gently. 

Their foreheads pressed together, he hums with pleasure. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

They’re silent for a while, and then he opens his eyes again and sighs. 

“I have to go soon.” 

She nods silently. 

“You want your panties back?” 

That makes her giggle again. “You want to keep them?” She asks immediately. 

He somehow finds himself blushing again. He’d taken the other pair she’d left in the Clambake trailer home with him, and used them until they no longer smelled of her. He was a little embarrassed the first time he touched himself while breathing in her scent, but that soon wore off. And then so did the smell. He found himself disappointed that he hadn’t pocketed another pair when he’d seen her last. So… yes he really does want to keep them. But it doesn’t seem like the sort of thing he should say, so he just continues to blush and avoid eye contact. 

“Oh, you do,” she teases. She has no idea how she’s going to get around going home without them on, but right now she doesn’t care. “You keep them then.”

He looks up at her, finally making eye contact again. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“I miss the way you smell…” he whispers, almost giggling again in embarrassment but desperate to tell her somehow. 

She hums softly in reply, thinking that she misses the smell of him too. 

“I’ll have to see you again to let you have another pair…”

He pulls her against him tightly. “Please. Please don’t say this is the last time… fuck it. Come on tour with me. I’ll take you everywhere I go and your kids can come too… somehow…” he trails off, knowing what he’s asking makes no sense. 

“You know I can’t do that,” she tells him, pushing his hair back off his forehead. “But I promise this won’t be the last time.” She pauses for a second, and then decides to carry on. Saying it deliberately this time. “I… I still love you.” 

“I love you too, Glory,” he replies. 

***

Taglist:

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas @pocketfulofpresley @dkayfixates @iloveelvisss @argangelbornxoxo

[missisjoker]

@randomingoftherandomness Your wish is my command ))

***

“I am not him, Li Lun. You’re dwelling on the past so much you forget about the present.”

The words ring true, and Li Lun desperately wants to believe that ZYC is right. Their routine continues, them dancing around each other, yearning but not allowing themselves to cross the line, gravitating closer and closer, until one day they see ZYZ on the street, and it all goes to shit.

ZYZ remembers them too; it is evident in the tears that stream down his cheeks the moment they come closer.

Li Lun is both relieved (he missed his friend so much, even though he didn’t even know him, in this life anyway), and horrified, because the more they spend time together, the three of them, the more his prince distances himself from him. Li Lun thinks at first, that he only imagines it, but he is not- every time they meet, the prince always puts himself closer to ZYZ; he also no longer jokes and flirts with Li Lun like he did before. He even starts to spar with other guards, sidelining Li Lun altogether.

Li Lun accepts. He always knew he had no future with the prince, he always knew, deep down, in the darkest corners of his soul, that he would never be the first choice, that the prince would always move on to someone else - long before the memories of the past life flooded his mind. So, it is only natural.

The thing spirals out of control and culminates in ZYC getting hurt during training. Li Lun rushes to the prince, and carries him back to the room, both men furious at each other.

“What were you thinking?”

“What was I thinking? Shameless! ” – ZYC struggles to get out of Li Lun’s grasp as the bodyguard stubbornly applies the medicine and covers the cut with a bandage.

“You abandoned me.”

The accusation makes Li Lun freeze.

“What?”

“You wouldn’t even look at me! And the only time you’re willing to get close to me is when I get hurt.”

Li Lun stares at the prince in disbelief, his tone turning sour.

“Didn’t want to get in between.”

“In between what? Stop lying!” – the prince is hissing like an angry kitten, tears glistening in the big eyes of his, as he continues,

“I’ve seen the glances you were throwing at him. No matter what I did you behaved like I wasn’t even there! You keep saying I will choose him while I am the one not good enough for you. So forgive me, Li-Daren, for trying to get better to be worthy of your attention.”

Li Lun.exe stops working for a second. He rewinds back, and realizes that every time ZYC put himself closer to ZYZ, he was putting himself between them.

 Li Lun feels a flood of relief, amusement, adoration and unconditional love for the brat sweep over him, and laughs.

“All of this, because you were jealous?”

“Shut up!”

ZYC turns away, his ears turning an adorable shade of red.

Li Lun's hand cups the prince’s face, and the boy immediately sighs and leans into the touch, fingers wrapping around the wrist for balance.

“You have nothing to worry about, Xiao Zhuo, my heart belongs to only one man.”

 Li Lun wipes a tear from the prince’s soft cheek and smiles at him as the prince whispers, his voice trembling,

“So does mine.”

Li Lun's hand travels to the prince’s neck, he feels the heartbeat thumping in the young man’s veins, rapid and steady under his touch, and it sets him on fire.

ZYC blinks rapidly, chasing away the tears that still swell in his eyes, and smiles. Then his brows furrow as he looks at his bodyguard with accusation, lips adorned with a royal pout.

“Well, it is still your fault, and it still tastes bitter.”

Li Lun’s grip on ZYC's neck tightens a little as his thumb forces the prince’s chin up.

“I think I can help you with that,”

ZYC's mouth parts, releasing a soft “oh” as the prince sees the deep hunger burning in Li Lun's dark eyes the moment before the older man captures his lips in a kiss.

The prince lets him in without resistance, eager and willing, and Li Lun's mind is flooded with love, mine, and claim, but he carries on with the most gentleness he can master.  When they finally move apart, Li Lun sees wide-opened eyes full of love looking back at him, and the only reflection in them is his.

ZYC leans forward, chasing another kiss, but Li Lun guides him back to the bed.

“You need rest.”

The Prince’s fist grabs Li Lun's overcoat, pulling him close. The brat is smirking now, and Li Lun silently growls- he can deal with almost anything, even ZYC' murderous mode, but his flirtations might break the last of his resolve.

“Li-Daren just stole my first-ever kiss, and I demand compensation.”

Li Lun allows his face to get close enough to let his breath ghost over the plush and swollen lips, making the prince shiver,

“You will get your revenge once you’re fully healed”.

He lets his voice drop lower to the tone he uses to threaten their enemies (even though it never works on the prince),

“Now let go of me and get back in bed.”

The prince swallows hard, pupils suddenly blown and the blush on the cheeks deepening, but he obediently releases the grip and rests back on the pillows.

Li Lun decides to file the reaction under “interesting, will investigate further”.

“Will you stay?”

“I have to report to His Majesty.”

The prince sighs, then looks at his guard with eyes full of hope,

“Will you come back to me?”

Li Lun smiles,

 “Always.”

Imagine a reincarnation AU where ZYC is reincarnated as a playful princess carefree prince who doesn't have to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. And Li Lun is reborn as a commoner with a great talent for martial arts, and accidentally wins a tournament to be the prince's bodyguard.

The more they spend time together, the more Li Lun develops ... feelings other than duty and friendship with the prince.

And it doesn't help that the prince looks at him like he hung the sun and the stars in the sky.

Then, eventually, he starts getting glimpses and memories of his previous life. He tries to distance himself from the prince to at least stop the blossoming romance from happening (aren't the prince and ZYZ soulmates? He can't get in the middle of that), but the prince is having none of that.

Maybe, one night they have a fight, and Li Lun tries to "break up" with the prince, but the prince says quietly, "This is not the past, Li Lun", and Li Lun freezes in place.

[min-play]

the only art kid in class

Animation by Isabella Spagnolo Voiced by AB

[lewyn-martell]

.

[zmpl]

this post is extremely fucking long so i’m putting all my answers under a readmore. open at your own discretion these questions are mindblowingly stupid

Chapter 1: Your Kinship

1. no

2. what the fuck are you talking about

3. what the fuck are you talking about

4. there’s nothing i hate more than pissing in the same room as someone else regardless of gender, so no

5. sports/physical activity are my personal hell, so no

6. i’m a male feminist. i’m liveblogging in my women’s studies class. just a male feminist over here

Chapter 2: Your Appearance and Voice

7. what does me being a man have to do with that

8. i’m going bald right now and i couldn’t give less of a fuck

9. (no offense intended to men) yeah that’s pretty based

10. getting my breasts removed was the best decision i’ve ever made for my mental health actually

11. yes, and yes

12. i sounded like a 4 year old before T, so no

Chapter 3: Your Feelings, part 1

13. yes, and even if the answer was no that would still be okay because identity is a lifelong journey

14. see answer #13

15. yes but seahorse dads are based

16. what the fuck is this question asking. “blaming your breasts”

17. i know my body best, and having been living as a man for 12 years i can confidently say the answer is yes

18. i know my body best

19. i felt MILES safer presenting as a cis girl than i do now as a trans man, but i didn’t transition to feel safe. i transitioned to align my body with my brain

Chapter 4: Your Feelings, part 2

20. i have not met a single trans man who did not pass after 5+ years of T, and even if that wasn’t the case, there is more to being trans than passing if you surround yourself with people who love you unconditionally

21. i’m not transitioning to be liked, i’m transitioning to align my body with my brain

22. yes

23. no

24. i tried that, didn’t work

25. i’ve spent a lot of time talking to detrans people actually. detransitioning is completely valid because identity is a lifelong journey. some of the best allies to the trans community have come from people who have experienced being trans themselves

26. modern science supports the existence of trans people

27. i would DIY while fighting to get legal access back

Chapter 5: Your Relationships

28. yes, because true friends encourage their friends to get the medical help they need

29. what the fuck are you talking about

30. EXTREMELY based

31. no. that’s literally their problem

32. my family loves me

33. i wouldn’t date someone who only loved me for my breasts

34. i’m not attracted to other men

35. yeah T4T rules

36. my sexual health has improved greatly from transition, actually

Chapter 6: Bigger Picture Considerations

37. i don’t care + wouldn’t you want to fight to end this type of discrimination

38. trans men can legally opt out of the draft

39. it doesn’t affect them at all and even if it did, it wouldn’t be my burden to bear

40. i’m leaving behind the legacy that it is okay to be your authentic self in the face of a nationwide culture war

i came across the most insane terf post of all time it has like 50+ questions to ask yourself before transition

as a wombynly wXXmbyn who has spent the past 8 years poisoning Her blood with t*stosterone i’m going to liveblog my answers to these questions to see if i should detransition and rejoin the divine feminine. because i need someone to share the pain of reading this list with

[inkskinned]

somewhere out there someone has probably used AI to write their wedding vows. someone out there is probably loading their hinge profile with AI quippy responses. when i close my eyes i picture a man hunting through chatGPT prompts, trying to get someone else to love him. maybe she sends him back chatGPT too, and two robots fall in love.

is this our new lives, then? is love scripted? i have a dandelion heart and some part of me wants to believe that AI will not obtain self-reliance by evil but instead by discovering the single perfect shape of love - the one thing humanity (in all our time and force) could never quite nail down. maybe it will be a string of numbers. the imprint of static, the universe's thumbprint. maybe it will just be a single long mirror, and jam dripping down your hands.

i know there are "good" reasons. i was nervous! or i was unsure how to say it! but - i want your nervous words. i want your unsure words. i want you to strike entire pages of work for me. i want you to gesture vaguely, to ransack your mind for ways to instead-of-saying just show me. i want to find where your words fail you and where the summer of your longing blazes out of you, infinite, resisting the capture of definition.

and i want to do the same for you. isn't any love worth a little bit of struggle? i want to shiver with the movie-ripe sense my friends are lovely and i am so tender towards them - i want to never quite be able to explain what it means to spend my life with them. i want to draw shapes on your skin that exit the geometric and fade into the same, wordless pattern. it is still love if silent. you know - i rarely, if ever, actually tell my siblings i love them? i just show up often, and hope the action does the talking.

i know AI is "easier". of course. buttoned up and seamlessly corporate. but i do not want to love you through a film. i do not want to love you with your edges sanded down. i cannot recognize myself in you if you are unmarred and glistening. something about how, with the crystal-clear mp3 files of the present, we ache for the scratch of vinyl. the flaws are what make love worth it. i want the raw and the windbeaten and the unkempt.

something tender, then. i love you because you're real, which means that you cannot be perfect.

[venmondiese]

LITTLE BOX FULL OF SURPRISES

masterlist ✧works in procress ✧ AO3

based on this request⭑.ᐟ

-ˋˏsummary: The maimed one-eyed prince marries the most beautiful woman on earth. She is dutiful, beautiful and perfect, but Aemond can't stand when someone, specially his uncle, look with desire at what it is his. ✧Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Tully!Original Female Character ✧word count: 3.1k ✧Warnings: : MDNI 18+, p in v sex, dom/sub undertones, face slapping, spitting on the mouth, degradation kink, possesive Aemond, Aemond is WHIPPED by his wife.

Every time his grandsire and his mother spoke of a Lady of great beauty coming to King’s landing, he rolled his eye. 

Even when they present a small portrait, small to fit his palm, he does not seem impressed. Perhaps it is too small, perhaps it is too pretentious. Either the painter exaggerated your features or he couldn’t properly paint a small portrait. But he was curious, after all. Named the most beautiful woman on earth, blessed by the Gods. 

He doesn’t doubt that Lady Tully was beautiful. Perhaps she was truly a beautiful woman, with her long red hair, ‘like fire’ said the letter. But being called The Maiden on Earth seems exaggerated to him.

His grandsire had told them about the implications of his betrothal, about how important it was to have secured the Riverlands, since Grover Tully was an old lord, and will not understand reason. To have his most beloved granddaughter as a princess, was the only way to win his approval, and support. 

Aemond finally meets her on the little garden near the Weirwood tree. They had been serving little cakes, as some lords and ladies talked nearby, not even half of court was here, and he liked the quietness. That made him less self-conscious.

She was near the table, her hand hovering above all the treats she could get, smiling as she watches them with interest. She is expressive, he realises. He hasn’t seen her face, only her back and the day her hand moves and her head is tilted, curious about the southern gastronomy.

 “My lady” Aemond says softly. 

She turns so gracefully, and she is surprised to see him. Her hand still extended, and she quickly moves it to grab her skirts, and do a courtesy to him. She has a sweet smile, and she speaks. 

 “My prince” she says, a bit surprised. “I… I didn’t expect you.”

“I must admit I came a bit earlier than agreed…” he murmurs, looking behind him and then back to her.

The most beautiful maiden on earth fell short to her. She was… something else, in the best way possible. She had that curiosity, that life in her eyes, as she smiles at him, her lips are perfect, and he could see that her maids probably used those Myrish lip taints, for they were a very natural red colour, almost matching with her hair. Her dress was magnificent, wearing the colour of her house, red and blue decorating everything. Even her eyes, blue like the opaque blue rivers in the Riverlands, and her hair, red like flames, matched with her house colours. She wore fish details, her earrings and in her dress pattern. But she was wearing a collar with a seven pointed star in it, and he sighed at her beauty. She was breathtaking.

“Oh, well, so it seems…” she says as she smiles a bit sheepishly, looking at him. “It’s a fine castle, my prince. It does have its own beauty.” 

Aemond has never thought of the red Keep as something beautiful, at all. He always wanted to live in Dragonstone, but his wish was not granted.  But, if she says so, it must be true, and with good reason.

“You think so?” 

She grabs a lemon cake, and eats it carefully as she nods. “Yes! And you also have a Weirwood tree here. When we made our trip here, we passed through Raventree, and their Weirwood was a bit… depressing…” she says, smiling sweetly. “But here it’s very beautiful. More… alive”

As she talks, he watches her closely. Even when his mother, his sickly father and his siblings arrive, when his mother gives him a scolding look for arriving earlier, he sort of watches you in silence, his chest swelling with an air of mystery. 

“You are not what I expected” he admits, quietly between the two of them as their parents talked about the betrothal.

“No?” She asks smiling, licking her finger from the cream of the lemon cakes. “You’ll see I’m a little box full of surprises” 

That’s the beginning.

A ceremony on the Sept, as she stood next to him, reciting vows and the cloak with dragon sigils is on her shoulders, left behind the fish one. Aemond has never looked so smug and proud. The bedding ceremony was… traditional. Having a crowd was awkward for both, surely, but Aemond made it all more comfortable for her, covering her body with his, and not exposing her, at his own expense.

“Just focus on me” He murmurs closely to her face, as she looks at him with wide eyes. He was between her open legs, and he insisted for her to keep her chemise on, while he had no problem in nudity “Your septa and mother could have told you…”

“Not much” She whispers back.

“Not much” he repeats, moving a strand of hair out other face, tenderly watching her face for discomfort. “But I will be gentle, and… we’ll learn together. Yes?”

“Yes. Thank you…, husband” she says, and he feels a prideful pressure on his chest. He was her husband. The most beautiful woman’s husband. 

And she was always thankful for his patience and gentleness towards her, and she stuck to him to all times, even when she was in court, charming everyone around. Her arm was always interlocked with his, and referred to him as ‘her sweet husband’. 

Love came quieter than expected, as they laughed on their bed at nights, having picnics in the gardens or going to the Riverlands in Vhagar together, swimming on Riverrun’s rivers, and just… enjoying each other. It was more than love when they had their first son, a lovely and happy baby, mismatched eyes, with both purple and a deep blue. Aemond adored his son, his little Daerion, and he adored you more.

“Black looks well on you” Aemond comments. 

Daerion’s blabbing was a way to agree with Aemond’s statement as the maid finished putting on her headband, the same tone of her dress. Her orange hair is in braids, two simple ones with some gold details on them, and some dragon earrings that he gifted her. She was gorgeous, and all his. 

“Your wardrobe hasn’t changed” she states looking at him. “Went from velvet black to dark black” 

Aemond walks over to his wife, watching her being just so beautiful like that, sitting, waiting peacefully like a porcelain doll.

“Mhm... As if changing colours would make everything amicable…” Aemond murmurs, taking Daerion in his arms, and he allows him to play with his hair. “Does father know it’s useless? Rhaenyra wearing green won’t change anything, nor will my mother wearing black. HIs voice comes as a grunt as he bounces their baby. 

“It’s foolish when you put it that way” her voice is tender, sweet, and somewhat like velvet. He is still besotted by her, as maidens do with knights. He watches the shape of her breasts on that dress, how the cleavage is so delightful for his eyes and the roundness of her tits that make the fabric around stretch a bit. As if the tailor always got the measurement of her chest wrong on purpose, which he won’t complain about. 

Her bright red hair contrasts with how the black makes her skin look paler, and her eye colour deeper.

“They shouldn’t call you the Maiden herself anymore” Aemond murmurs softly, walking closer to her, still holding Daerion in his arms. “You are like the mother herself. Like the Goddess Syrax of Old Valyria. Beautiful, strong… so alluring…”

“You never seem to run out of compliments” her hands move to grab her rings, and the one he likes the most is the sapphire one, just to symbolise her marriage to him. 

“Never, more so if a goddess like you is my wife. All mine…”

“My prince, my lady.” It’s a Kings guard who interrupts. “Supper is ready, and Queen Alicent asks for you both to arrive earlier…”

“Hm” Aemond says, leaving Daerion in the wet nurse’s arms.

“Thank you, ser Willis” the knight smiles at his wife before walking to wait outside the door.

He rolls his eye as he leans to kiss his son’s forehead, caressing his chubby cheek and he smiles fondly at his sight. The little freckles he has that he inherited from his mother, something that Aemond loved. Yet remembering how unnecessary kind his wife is… annoys him.

Kindness and sweetness only helped to enhance her beauty and popularity, and he also loved that. She was beautiful, perfect in any way, tied to a One-Eyed maimed monster, like him. All he could offer to you, that it was worthy, was the luxuries of the royalty, all the kids you want and his unconditional love. He was at your mercy.

He has one eye, but he is not blind. Any man here on the keep, would pull their breeches down if his wife asked so. They would even cut their own throats for her mere delight, and Aemond would be one of them. 

“Goodbye, my sweet love” the sweet motherly tone makes little Daerion squeal happily, extending his little arms for his mother. She kisses both his hands, later to wave to him as they leave the room, arms interlocked.

Aemond always bites his tongue when his lady wife is kind to men. He hates it, yet he knows she does it for the kindness of her heart, and not any ulterior motives.

He was smitten for her, moving the chair for her to sit, and helping her, her dress not getting stuck anywhere or her headpiece, and only then, he sat on his own seat at peace.

“I heard they might have some goose” she murmurs to him, as the room fills. Her fingers caress his arm, and he hears her every word. “I’d eat it all if I could, you know” she teases.

“Mhm.” Aemond murmurs. Even if he is besotted, his facade is still the same; stoic, cold, distant. Yet to her, his gaze was always loving.

“I would only share it with you” she states proudly, leaning to give him a peck on the lips, before standing up once the King is brought to the room.

As he stands, he doesn’t miss how his uncle watches her. Aemond might not know the man personally, but he knew the look of desire in a man’s face. Much more when they looked at her 

The supper is mostly… tense, and awkward. But Lady Tully is charming to everyone and even toasts as well for Baela and Rhaena in their betrothal, congratulating them and speaking nothing but wonders about her own married life, making Aemond wear the slightest, yet most smug smirk on his face.

“Amazing” she says, with her mouth full as she eats the goose, and Aemond nods, a hand rubbing her back so she doesn’t choke for eating so quickly. “Here, my love” she says, extending the fork with a bit of the goose that she adores so much. 

Aemond eats shamelessly, enjoying the taste as he nods softly, approving, which makes her smile. His hand resting on the back of her chair, as he drank his wine quietly, watching his sister and nephew go to dance together. He is highly unaware of the prying eyes that watch them both.

Helaena and Jacaerys’ giggles and the movement of her dress is enough for lady Tully to watch curiously. Her husband was not one for dances, as he had not a good perception of objects with one eye. She never pressured him, and accepted the fact. 

She always would say how Daerion once he would be tall enough to walk, she’d dance with her son all the songs and dances, and Aemond approved that idea. 

“Lady Tully” It was Daemon Targaryen’s deep voice, and she looks at him a bit surprised, leaving her fork on the table as she covers her mouth, her hand unconsciously fetching wine, which Aemond hands her his. 

“Prince Daemon” her melodic voice is a bit confused, and more so when the uncle of her husband extends his hand. The green fabrics from his suit are deep, yet he still wore dragon details on it, and he looked smug about it.

She turns to watch Aemond, his jaw tensing as he looks at Daemon. And he has to physically stop himself from cutting his uncle’s throat when his wife walks with him to join Helaena and the bastard. Aegon and he share a look, both upset and annoyed, as their wives are so freely dancing with other men. 

Aemond watches her beautiful face, frowning as Daemon talks about something, whispering it closely so no one else hears it. His grip on the edge of his seat is strong; knuckles’ turning white as his jaw is tense, not looking pleased at all. And then, he hears her warm laugh, giggling at what he said, as her whole face brightened up.

Once they serve the pig in front of him and hear the little bastard giggles, it is enough to send him through a fit of rage. 

He literally drags his wife by the arm after everything went downhill, after saying that stupid toast, after the Velaryon’s boys attempt to defend themselves (very badly) and both her husband and her good brother humiliate them.

“Dancing with him” Aemond murmurs, walking to their shared chambers, not minding seeing the servants stop and look at them both. “Accepting it, and giggling to his jokes as he shamelessly flirts with you” 

“It was politeness...” her voice is weak when protesting.

“Did he mocked me for having only one eye?” He asks roughly. “Did he told you how beautiful your are and how full your breasts are?”

She opens her mouth a bit taken aback by his lewds remarks. “I am dutiful to what it’s expected of me. I wouldn't have allowed him to mock you”

“You should…”

“My family’s words are Family. Duty. Honour. And you know I care for that very deeply.” she says as she tries to keep up with his long steps “And I did just what was asked…”

“You are mine” he states, walking inside his chambers as his grip does nothing but become stronger. “My wife and you are… putting yourself in display for my uncle, laughing at his flirting. I know your family words are important for you, but this is… beyond that”

Perhaps it was her confused eyes or her angelic face, but he loosened up his grip yet he kept talking. 

“He wanted you! To have you below him and fuck you like a… wench or… or some kind of…”

“I know” 

Aemond turns drastically, eye twitching at his wife's words.

“You knew?”

“It was being cordial. It was duty. To amend broken ties…”

“I will break and burn and turn into ashes any ties from you to him” he says exasperated, insane with jealousy. His eye is wide, twitching in rage as he cannot believe this. She was his wife. 

Seeing Daemon’s hand grip on her hip, almost groping her, made him insane. Because he knew that Lady Tully, beautiful as the Maiden, a beloved goddess amongst the poor and rich, could do so much better than him. Yet, she still chooses him.

“Get naked” he says simply.

“What?”

“You heard me just right. Get. Naked.” He says again, not wanting a negative. 

Her whine is endearing, as she starts taking off little by little. Her gown, the diminutive buttons at the back, her collar, and her hellish headpiece.

“Let me” he grumbles as he helps her take off the headpiece, tossing it aside more carefully.

She is possibly the most beautiful when she is naked. Round breasts, even fuller thanks to lactating, and her body was tempting enough to anyone. 

“Undress me” he says instead. He took delight when she was the one serving him, in this way. He loved to see her desperation, her eagerness for him. His jerkin is out in no time, and she kneels to undo his breeches.

Because she had an angelic face, but it was only he who knew how obsessed she was with his cock. She could spend hours lying on the bed, sucking his cock as she rested her head on his abdomen as Aemond read. She wouldn’t even suck him off properly, his wife would only suck the tip, give kitten licks, and lazily press some kisses. During hours and hours. 

“I forbid you to speak to any one of them. Ever again” 

Confused eyes turned up to look at him, as the careful hands undid his breeches, almost a bit eagerly. “Forbid?”

“Hm. It’s what I said, is it not?” He says, narrowing his eye as if asking to be defied. 

“But it’s mad” she protests, frowning. “I promised Jace and Baela a tour in the gardens, and it would be impolite if I didn’t spoke-”

“Too bad” his voice cuts the conversation, and he is not leaving it up for conversation. 

“You are being irrational...”

“And you are being a fucking brat” he spats, grabbing her chin as he bites his lower lip. “I’ll show you how irrational I can get”

Her eyes watched him, almost too innocent for her own good. It made him hard; he could feel his cock stirring on his untied breeches. 

“Fucking slut, giving yourself to other men” his tone is harsh, but by the way her knees move, to accommodate the weight as he grips her chin, he knows that she is aroused. So is he.

Lady Tully was beautiful, and a box of surprises with everything, he realised with time. He had everyone trapped under her charms, and kept her secrets very private. And he loved it.

“Whore.”  His hand leaves her chin, only to move it to slap her across the face. 

She gasps, her face turned. It wasn’t harsh, yet the sting was burning on her skin, as she placed a hand on her cheek. To foreign eyes, he just slapped his wife. But he has done it before, to her request. Aemond knew that if his wife was enraged by that, he would have been beaten over and over, because she was kind, but didn’t stand for people dishonouring her. 

Aemond, more gently places his hand back on her chin, pulling it so she can look at him. “You will learn your place” Aemond says, as she looks up at him, with those meek eyes of hers. He loved her eyes. “Open your mouth”

 He leaned down, his mouth opening over hers, so near that she could feel his hot breath. His hand goes to wrap the bright red hair of hers, and his firm grip got her head secured. 

Perhaps Aemond would kiss those perfect lips, yet he pulled back and released a strand of saliva directly into her waiting mouth. Aemond’s fingers tightened the grip in her hair, as his other hand came up to wipe away the excess of spit. 

“There is my good girl” he murmurs, looking at her. “Mhm. I’m going to teach you a lesson” 

Aemond lifts his wife to her feet as if she weighs nothing, his grip on her hair almost dragging her to the bed, forcefully as he heard her little whines. He had a moment or two to decide which position suited best, for then to grab her hips and guide her to be on her hands and knees. He grabs the long red hair once again, angling her head to the side, because Aemond needed to see her face the same way he needed air.

She was soaking wet, and that is a satisfaction for her husband. Aemond accommodated behind her, watching her body as he positioned his cock at her entrance.

 “Such a sweet little cunt” he growls, his eye flashing with lust and desire as he thrusts into her from behind, in one swift motion. 

Her whimpers and pants are loud, as she grips on the sheets as her back is arched. She was desperate to be filled and fucked, not something unusual. The unusual thing was that… nothing happened.

“Aemond” She whines, moving her head to watch him from above her shoulder. She had that desperate, pitiful appearance that he loved.

“Yes, my love?” He asks almost nonchalantly, watching her ass, and how his cock is fully sank inside her 

She can barely think straight as his dick is deep inside her, throbbing in her walls as she just needs him to start fucking her. “Eh… move?”

“I don’t think so” he murmurs, his hand moving to caress her ass to his liking. “You’ll have to fuck yourself on my cock” His wife opens her mouth, confused as her eyebrows frown in hesitation. “Show me how much you need me” he says simply, he was fucking teasing her. “How much you need my cock”

Feeling the thick length of Aemond’s cock inside her, she accommodates on her hands, slowly moving away just to sink down onto his cock again. Her slick walls gripping him tightly as she impales herself on his thick cock. 

“Aemond… Fu-uck, you feel… oh, yes…” She whimpers, and her voice is filled with pleasure as her pussy starts getting pounded as she liked so much. If Lady Tully liked something in life, was probably getting fucked until her mind is mush.  

Her hips start moving on their own accord, as she grips on the sheets, trying to keep a stable posture to move her hips better, as her moans are obscenely loud, trying to get his cock deeper and deeper. Aemond leaves a groan, watching how she sinks down on his cock, and it is an image that would make any man cum in seconds. He truly was the luckiest man ever. 

He feels the fire in his stomach tighten, as her moans grew more and more delighted to the feeling of his cock pounding into her. At first, she had thought of it as promiscuous, and asked the maiden for forgiveness, but gods damn her if it wasn’t the best thing in life to get a good fuck from the love of her life.

“So responsive when getting a cock in your needy pussy” Aemond mutters, as one of his hands raises to spank her ass, the sharp slap only serves for the sounds coming out of her mouth to increase, and he spanks her again, and again, and again, to his own amusement and delight. 

“Please, Aemond…” 

“You just love misbehaving with me, because you know I will put you in your place” he says, moving forward to her body to grip his hair with his right hand, his left goes right next to her hand gripping the sheets to hold his weight. “Because you are a needy whore” he states, gripping her hair as she nods forcefully. 

“Yes” she says, in that whiny tone of hers. He knows her reactions yet every time they aroused him even more. “Yes, please”

The grip on her hair only serves to help him push her back against his cock, his hips now making the effort to start properly pounding into her cunt as she loved; hard, rough and at a deliciously good pace. Her body is practically numb as he starts to use her body for his own pleasure, just as she loved.

Who would have said that the most beautiful woman on earth loved being used by her husband? Definitely not him. She was the most perfect creature, in any way. Smart, funny, pretty, a good wife and mother. And yet she always craved his cock, like the filthiest whores of Flea Bottom. 

“Let those bastards hear you, hm?” He asks, as he leans to speak lowly near her ear. “How it’s your husband who pleases you. Perhaps my uncle will get the notion that you are mine. Only mine. Fucking mine. That fucking dodderer will die by my hand if he ever dares to lay his eyes on you” 

The mere thought infuriates him, making his hips slam into her harder and more feral. Rutting into her cunt in an animalistic pace as he has to clench his jaw in rage. His hand on her hair and the other on her waist, he groans at the feeling of her soaking cunt. 

The sobs he hears as his cock keeps on pounding into her sweet spot, makes him smug enough, and even more aroused. His sweet lady wife, so prone to cry when she had too much pleasure when she got overwhelmed with lust. 

“Please, please…” the round of pleas comes up with her tears, and Aemond moans, shamelessly, as he was so close. “I can’t t-take i-it… anymo-ore” 

“Oh, you will” he says through gritted teeth as he lets go of her hair, only for his other hand to go to her shoulder to help her get his dick deeper. “I will breed you. Cum so deep that my seed takes root, and everyone will know who you belong to.” 

Her nods between sobs, pleas and trembling legs help him pound in feral thrusts into her, feeling her cunt already milking him, inner walls attempting to squeeze his dick inside and never let it go.

“Cum for me, my love” he murmurs, still fucking her deep and nice how she likes it. “My beautiful wife” he murmurs, besotted by her as she cries, her tears rolling down her rosy cheeks with little freckles that he adored. 

The little spasms of her body, her wails and the way her cunt squeezes him, it’s enough to drive him to the edge, holding her body down into his cock as he moans loudly, rolling his eye back in pleasure as he cums hard. She whimpers, whining a bit as his seed just keeps on filling her, his balls tensing up as his grip will probably leave her delicate skin with red marks.

He is caring afterwards, as he cleans her with a towel, or when he places her in bed and covers her, lying by her side each time as she snuggles to him.

“You have to know–” she says softly, her fingers tracing circles on his chest. “You are hot when jealous”

Aemond huffs, grumbling about it a bit as he seems reluctant. It amuses her.

“You always find me hot, I could be… Killing a chicken and you would be leaking”

“Get on my place for a moment, please, just imagine how your muscles would flex” she says dead serious and he rolls his eye amused, as the corners of his lips gives him away.

The fixation on his hair would be a problem if he didn’t love her so much. Aemond allows his lady Tully to braid it as they talk in bed. 

“I didn’t really mean it” he says softly. 

“Hm?” She asks curious, her fingers working on a single small braid on his hair.

“You can talk to them” he says through gritted teeth. “Just-... not too much”

Her little laugh warms his heart. “Very well” she says amused. “For each sentence I say to them, I will suck you”

“I retract myself, talk to them very much, all you like” he says, and it has her giggling. “You know I love you…” he says; as it comes into his view her concentrated face, her tongue coming out of her pink lips as she was focused. He could see the freckles that he so adored, and her pretty eyes. How he loved her.

“You know I love you more…” she says fixing his braid to stick to his hair. Her mouth forms a pleased smile as she sits, as she inspects her work. “Yes. Seems pretty nice”

He could feel the hair strand tight, and he moved his hand to touch his head. “What in the Seven Hells you did to my hair, woman?” 

She looks very pleased as she giggles, her body accommodating against his chest as she shrugs innocently, as he keeps on playfully trying to decipher what his wife did to his hair. 

[ranboolivesaysstuff]

HEY! Just because I am now 20 I think having something to kind of re establish boundaries would be good! Considering the ones I put all those times ago have changed :D GENERAL RULES! Do not be racist, sexist, homophobic, antisemitic, ableist, or discriminatory against anyone for any reason. Please if someone is calling you out for things you have done or said, please self-reflect and take the proper steps to change or remove yourself from the community. If you see something you do not like, and it IS MADE WORSE BY BRINGING ATTENTION TO IT, THEN IGNORE IT! Bringing attention to problems that just arent really problems with either the community or me in general are not worth it! Please use common sense when thinking about what/what not to engage with! I personally wish that people in the community do NOT engage with people who just obviously do not like me! Chances are they want a reaction from it so it is MUCH better to just not argue with someone whos mind you will not change! ALLOW CRITICISM OF ME AND MY CONTENT! IF YOU DONT AGREE OR DONT LIKE THEN DO NOT ARGUE ABOUT IT!!!! ALL IT WILL DO IS CAUSE UNESSICARY DRAMA!!! DO NOT make ANY comments or content about me that is explicitly sexual. I completely understand that lately there have been bits due to the changes in how I’ve been presenting myself and how I’ve been presenting more femininely, but that does not allow anyone to use that as an excuse to sexualize any features and such that are more feminine or masculine. Remember that femininity is not sexual and should not be seen or created as such just because its there! (for example, the Vtuber costume and chat being overly weird over the added boobs where there was no need for it). DO NOT draw me in ways that are sexual either, such as highlighting any aspects in a sexual way, or making the content something sexual. I am completely okay with being drawn as any body type, masculine presenting or feminine presenting, as long as you stick to this! PLEASE DO NOT SPECULATE ABOUT MY PERSONAL LIFE!!! Making jokes about certain topics CAN be fine, but a line is crossed when it becomes a legitimate speculation or if a joke is said when I have expressed my discomfort! RESPECT MY FRIENDS!!! All of my friends are their own, incredible people. And they do not deserve to be lumped in or referred to as JUST "my friend". Be respectful in their chats even when im not there, and be respectful to all of them everywhere else! IF SOMEONE IS TRYING TO INFORM YOU THAT YOU MAY BE DOING SOMETHING WRONG PLEASE LISTEN!!! There has been a lot of times in which I have seen people be unwilling to change in the face of a genuine discussion, and that is not something I want in the community! I should NOT have to police every single thing because it should NOT take me saying something in order to change your mind! As my words are not worth more or less when it comes to a lot of subjects! And lastly, do good. Whenever you have the ability to. BE POSITIVE!!! The hater mindset is very draining and can be very toxic to both you and the people around you, so highlight the good instead of the bad if you have the ability to! I am so incredibly proud of how far this community has come, and I cannot wait for the future!!! I have spent some time writing this, but it may not be perfect, so I will update this as time goes on and I think of more, or if something needs to be SUPER cleared up, but for now these are the main ones! I will NOT be updating this after every little thing however, as I do not want you guys to feel like the only way that something is wrong is if I talk about it! As you guys should be able to sustain yourself as a community without my consistent input! Imma go enjoy my birthday by eating a pizza :) thank you all!

[sugarlywhispers]

b.katsuki x reader (fem) | quirkless!reader, prohero!dynamight

a.n; I'M IN LOVE WITH THIS IDEA OKAY? I HAVE HAD IT IN MY DRAFTS FOR LIKE A YEAR ALREADY AND I NEED YA'LL TO RANT WITH ME ABOUT THISSSS<3 it's mostly enemies to lovers💕

BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG

"For the love of–... I'M COMING!"

It's Sunday morning. You have been expecting this day to wake up maybe mid-morning, with the gentle warm breeze coming from your open window; have an exquisite brunch that you have been planning and craving since Friday; maybe watch an episode or two of your favorite show before preparing a full spa day, with a long and refreshing bath included. That's how you have planned your Sunday to go.

But no… Apparently, someone's intention was to ruin the whole day for you while their knocks on your door were persistent and annoying at 6 freaking a.m.

You don't think about what you're wearing before stumbling towards the door, with the loud BANGS still sounding. You think of your poor neighbors next door and their newborn baby.

"This little shit," you protest, completely annoyed with this person knocking on your door like someone has died. "Someone better be dead or else…" You open the door in one strong pull and huff utterly annoyed when you encounter the person behind.

Vermillion eyes collide with yours, the intense hate and annoyance so palpable in the air it almost cuts you both.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

He tchs, rolling his eyes at you. The bile travels up through your esophagus, and you want to spit at him.

"Save the greetings, if you know what a decent greeting means… Well, considering how well you just did it, I doubt you fuckin’ know…"

The muscle at your temple twitches so hard, you believe he is actually able to see it. That would explain his upcoming smirk.

"The fuck do you want?" You repeat, not even caring or taking the time to follow this banter with him. You would normally do it, come back at him with a snarky response that would probably hurt his ego and he would answer back making you even angrier, and yada yada, nothing new to this ‘hate x hate’ relationship you had with this man in front of you. But today is not a day you planned on dealing with Bakugou-annoying ass-Katsuki.

He looks down at his hands, his fingers fidgeting a bit with the buttons on his all-black suit jacket you just now noticed he is wearing. Interesting; he never uses formal suits like this one if it isn't for a Hero Gala, and that was only once a year. Or that one time you remember he had to apologize to citizens through a TV interview with Deku because of a villain attack in Hokkaido they couldn't quite contain on time and caused a lot of material damage. You shake your head coming back to the present. Pro Hero Dynamight, a.k.a. Bakugou-annoying ass-Katsuki is standing right at your door, looking a bit nervous while playing with the buttons of his jacket, furrowing his eyebrows like he is angry even at the air he breathes.

You could have expected anything from this unpredictable man who infuriated you almost twenty-four hours a day, the seven days of the whole week. However, you were not expecting at all the words that come from his mouth after he looks up again and his eyes lock with yours.

"Fucking marry me."

Your eyes open wide. And the only thing you think of doing is punching him. And you do.

Your hands close in tight fists, and before saying anything, you punch his shoulder as strongly as you can with one. You know for sure your small and useless fist won't do any damage to this hulk of a man, but the meaning behind it it's what matters.

He simply looks at you in disbelief. "Ouch?" He smirks. He fucking smirks at you, and this time you punch his stomach, which does make him grunt and hover a bit in pain.

You attempt to close the door right at his face, but he suddenly pushes it with his hand and makes you waver a bit back, holding yourself on the door handle. He stands straight again, retrieving his hand from the door when he realizes he used more force than intended to prevent you from closing the door.

"I- umm- Shit, sorry, I didn't-..." 

You raise a hand to stop him from talking.

"Just fucking tell me what you want, so I can go back to bed and not see your ugly face for the rest of my day."

You watch in satisfaction how his face contours into full rage. And this time you smirk. 

"I fucking hate you…" He spits, and you bat your lashes at him while smiling.

"Ah, the feeling is mutual, baby."

Bakugou takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and holding himself on the door frame with strength. You're sure his hand shape will print on it, and you get more annoyed –if that's possible, but you have already learned that when Bakugou was involved, the anger was immeasurable– thinking that you will have to hire someone to fix that.

"I fucking hate you," he repeats through his teeth with his eyes still closed, but then he opens them, and his entire face changes into something you never expected to see. He looks at you, begging, "But I need you to marry me."

You look… perplexed. Again, never in your life have you ever come across the thought that those words would ever come from the man in front of you, much less towards you.

You open your mouth to say something, but the neighbor from the apartment in front of yours opens his door, standing there with his arms crossed and looking menacingly.

"Everything okay, Y/N?" His deep baritone voice asks. Bakugou turns his head and when he sees him, stands straight, head held high and you can imagine the type of defying expression on his face.

You roll your eyes. Men.

"Yes, Arisu, everything is fine. He's… a… friend," the word stung your tongue because you couldn't consider Bakugou that, even though you shared the same group of friends. But it wouldn't have been good having these two fight over something you still didn't understand what was happening; the thought of who of these two hulk men would win still was entertaining to think about. Your money was on Arisu, of course.

"Alrigh’," Arisu says, looking at Bakugou up and down before retrieving himself back into his apartment.

"The fuck this fucking extra-..." You stop Bakugou from turning and going towards Arisu by holding his arm and pulling him towards you.

"Stop it. Come inside," you demand, pulling him as he watches your hand around his bicep, "before any of my neighbors file a complaint against me thanks to your fucking loud mouth."

Bakugou grunts at your words as he lets you pull him inside. When you close the door and turn to him, you realize how big he looks in your small apartment, where there is barely space between the living room and the kitchen and two doors, one leads to your bedroom and the other to the bathroom. You want to laugh at how uncomfortable he looks.

You take a deep breath, scratching your forehead to regain a bit of patience –which was non-existent whenever Bakugou was around.

"Okay, now, explain to me what the hell is wrong with you."

"Nothing is wrong with me. More like what's wrong with you and this small thing you call apartment… When did you-..."

"Bakugou! I didn't invite you in for you to start insulting my living space!" You say more exasperated by every second he is in there. "Tell me what the hell happened to you! Why did you come here, almost tearing down the door of my place at 6 in the fucking morning, annoying even my neighbors, and then you fucking propose out of nowhere!"

His lips are held in a tight line as he watches you almost yell at him, hands opening and closing anxiously. There is silence for a couple of minutes before he says, "My father died."

You gasp, taking a step back. Wow. That's something you were not expecting at all. You get now why the black suit. And now that you look at him better, his eyes look glassy and reddish –probably thanks to how much he's holding himself back from showing any other emotion that isn't anger. And that's… sad.

Your arms immediately hug yourself, one hand settling over your chest. "I- I'm sorry…"

"Don't be," he turns a bit to the left, facing the kitchen to avoid looking at you. "Fucker was a right pain in the ass."

You choke on the laugh that almost escapes you at his words, and after you clear your throat you murmur, "Sorry." He looks at you a bit amused, the right corner of his mouth lifted a bit at your reaction.

You sigh again after a few seconds of silence, "Bakugou, what does that have to do with you asking me to-...”

"My great-grandparents are-were the funders and CEOs of TCA Technologies Corp.," your eyes open wide at the name of the prestigious company that had been ground-breaking in the creation and use of robots, before being the number one seller of technology materials to support heroes. They were high class in society, civilians and heroes. "Yeah, that's the face every extra makes," he smirks when you stick your tongue out at him.

He then looks at you up and down and immediately looks away, clearing his throat in a clear gesture of shyness. You frown confused.

"Fucking go put some clothes on."

That's when you remember you had no pants, no bra, and an old shirt that barely covered your panties. Fuck. You almost run towards your room to get changed. All of this had to be a dream… or a nightmare.

Your Sunday was entirely ruined. You know that for sure.

After you change to decent, more covered clothing, leggings and a big shirt that almost reached your knees –it is Sunday, dammit, and the hell you are gonna dress up for Bakugou Katsuki– you walk again towards the living room where you left said asshole waiting for you there. He is now sitting on your couch, his suit jacket lying over the back of it. His elbows are resting over his knees, his hands holding his head. You have never encountered a tired Bakugou, yet here he is. Looking beaten and down.

He looks up at you when he hears you approach him; his eyes are more reddish than before, kind of like when you want to cry but don't let yourself do it. That made you feel bad for thinking about him as an asshole.

"What took you so long, short-legs? Whatever you wear, you'll still stink and look ugly on it."

Nope. He is and will always be a stupid asshole.

You roll your eyes grunting as you let yourself fall on the couch, as far away from him as you can on that three-people couch, crossing your legs under you.

"Spit it out, asshole. What's all this about?"

He sighs, "My father inherited it all after my grandfather died. His whole life had been that stupid company, his and my mother's. I don't give a fuck about it, but the old hack insists that I- ow!"

You pinch him on the shoulder this time, knowing very well that if you had punched him he wouldn't have felt anything. But pinching… he did feel that.

"What the fuck was that for?!"

"Don't call your mom like that, idiot!"

"Fucking piss off, you know shit! The old hack is an old hack, she deserves the title."

You shake your head in disagreement but decide to leave that topic there considering how affected he looks by it.

"The old hack said," he simply repeats that to spite you, and you really want to punch him, "that I need to step up and be fucking CEO of that bullshit, or…"

He looks at you, and you gulp, kind of understanding where this is going.

"Or get married." You finish the sentence, crossing your arms over your chest, "But why? Those two options are completely different from one another."

"The sky will fucking fall the day I understand any-fucking-thing that comes out of her mouth. She's nuts!" He protests, arms exaggerating his words as he opens them wide, evidently showing how much stress he has, before laying back on the couch, head resting over the back of it where his jacket is. He sighs long and deeply before talking again, "My great-grandmother had a strong Quirk, but she decided to stay at home instead of being a Hero. Those were other times, ya'know?"

"I know History of Heroes, Bakugou. I'm not stupid."

He looks at you again, this time genuinely surprised, "I, umm, thought you-..."

"Have you ever thought that despite not having a Quirk, I know about heroes?"

He tchs, "No wonder why you and shitty Deku are such shitty nerds."

You roll your eyes for the eleventh time that morning, "Get to the point, shitty asshole."

Bakugou scoffs, clearly holding back a retort to answer back, then he continues, "I'm the first in generations with a strong, hero-level Quirk. Most of my family had decided to live as civilians, building this stupid company from generation to generation."

"Oh, and you are the first actual Hero in the family. You are the first one to choose differently…"

He nods in response, "It almost gave my grandfather a heart attack. Ever since my Quirk woke up, I knew what I wanted," he looks back at you, and for the first time, you admit to yourself that you're curious of knowing what he wants, what goes through his head, so you nod allowing him to continue, "I want to be a Number One Hero. I want to kick villains' asses as much and as hard as I can for as long as my stupid aging bones allow me to."

The intensity in his eyes and conviction in every word he spoke made you feel his passion. And that was… new.

"But to be that, I can't afford to waste time in falling in love and all that bullshit…"

"Then say no to your mom and the company," you offer as a solution. He snorts letting his head fall back against the couch.

"You know shit…" He shakes his head, "There's a requirement in every hero company, it says that a familiar, or a spouse if the hero is married, has to validate your mental sanity alongside a doctor to keep working as a Hero."

"I… didn't know that."

"Of course not, short-legs. You're not a hero, why would you know?"

"So, if I… If we get married-..." he nods in confirmation even before you say the words. But he says them.

"The old hag won't have to validate my status as Hero anymore, and she won't have anything to hold me back from sending her and the company to hell."

You looked serious at him, "Bakugou, you and I don't like each other. You hate me and I hate you. And you want to put your Hero status in my hands by marrying me?" You say in disbelief, almost anxious about the whole meaning of this. You stand up and walk from one side to the other as you keep talking, "Why? Because your inner kid is in rebellious tantrum mode and does not want to take the responsibility to-..."

"Shut the fuck up! You. Know. Shit!" He also stood up, shortening the distance between you two in the small living room.

"Then tell me! Explain it to me! Cause to me you only sound like a spoiled brat who doesn't want his veggies for lunch."

He looks you right in the eye, hands almost trembling in fists beside his body, and then he drops the bomb.

"My mother killed my grandfather."

You recoil a step back, "What?"

He sighs, hands and fingers running through his hair, clearly uncomfortable, "I-... There is no proof, no solid proof about it. I just- I know it was her." Again, the conviction in his eyes made you believe him. "My mother wanted the money, the luxury life being with my dad could bring her. But my dad had a brother, an older brother."

"Had?"

Bakugou simply shakes his head, "The idiot got himself in between a shooting from two villain groups. He was shot only once, and it killed him. A fucking looser…" 

You try, you really tried not to smile but failed miserably. "You are the idiot," you say fighting back the chuckle.

He smiles back, "No, I got shot several times, I even got thrown at and through walls, and I'm very much fucking alive. I'm no weak ass looser as him."

You can't stop laughing, Bakugou definitely is an idiot.

He waits until you're done laughing before continuing, "Even then, my grandfather didn't think my dad was capable of handling the company and all it meant, so he was thinking about giving it to one of his nephews. That's when, I fuckin’ know, my mother took matters into her own hands. I'm an only child. If I say no…"

"The company has to go to another familiar..." Everything washes clear now in your head, “And your mom won't allow that to happen. So she’ll lie and say you aren’t sane enough to keep working as a hero,” Bakugou keeps nodding, confirming everything you’re saying.

“That way, I’m obligated to work at the company.”

Your hand travels from your forehead and brushes your hair back. “She wouldn’t that… She’s your mom, Bakugou...”

“Haven’t you heard a fucking thing I said? She fucking killed my grandfather so the company was legally inherited by my father! Therefore, she could hold all the rights, all the stupid money! My father was a fucking dimwit who believed every-fucking-thing my mother said. She controlled him as she pleased.”

You gasp as another realization hits you, “That’s why you are an asshole to her…”

“She can fool anyone, but not me.” He declares, standing tall and proud. “I have never played her game, and I fuckin’ never will.”

You hug yourself once more, taking some minutes to assimilate all the confessions he just dropped on you. Everything feels like a script of a freaking movie or something. And there are too many questions you want to ask. But there’s only one thing you mostly don’t understand and you need the answer to.

So you look back at him, head tilting up a bit due to the height difference between you, and ask, “Why me?”

Bakugou does not hesitate in his answer. 

“You’re strong, despite not having a Quirk. And smart. You don’t let anyone dictate what you can or cannot do,” he takes a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours, “You have never backed down from a discussion, with me or anyone else. You don’t let anybody step on you, holding tight to your convictions and beliefs.”

You visibly gulp, feeling a little warmth in your cheeks that makes you want to look elsewhere, but you don't. You hold the connection between your eyes like dear life. And he smiles, the left corner of his mouth raising a bit.

“You have a fuckin’ strong character, you won't even shy down from me,” you suddenly feel the back of his index finger caress the right side of your jaw, where lays an old scar he perfectly recognized.

It was the scar he accidentally left when you were younger, stupider. He had picked a fight with another newbie hero –another asshole in your opinion– who kept talking shit about his other newbie hero friends. Bakugou had snapped when the guy mocked the word “whore” towards you. You have tried to separate them, earning yourself a punch on the right side of your face by this same man that has touched the reminder of that old memory.

“But above all that…” It’s his turn to gulp, eyes going up and down through your face. Is he… Is he looking at your lips? “You are kind. You care about everyone. You always try to solve everything for everyone –that’s fuckin’ annoying actually.”

You open your mouth to swear at him, stupid asshole; but he doesn’t give you time to say anything. “What I’m trying to fuckin’ say is–” he takes a deep breath, “You are… good. A good person. And you… You understand m- us.”

Was he going to say ‘me’? By ‘us’, you know he means heroes.

Your parents had been heroes before they died. Unfortunately, you were born Quirkless, so the dream of following your parents' path was decided the same day you were welcomed into this world. You have already made peace with this idea, it didn’t hurt like it used to when you were young. Despite not having a Quirk, you specialized in Quirk and training analysis, which granted you a job that most Hero Agencies wanted you for. Hence also how now your group of friends involved all heroes.

However, one thing is working with them, working with Bakugou Katsuki, a.k.a. Pro Hero Dynamight, who was the biggest pain in your ass you have ever had since the day you met him. Another completely different is actually marrying the pain in your ass.

You sigh, “I don’t–...”

“What? You want me to fuckin’ beg? ‘Cause I fuckin’ will…” Bakugou takes a step back and literally kneels before you. You protest, grabbing his forearm and pulling him back up, but he doesn’t let you move him even a millimeter. “What do you want? Whatever you want is yours. We can even sign a dam contract if you so want, I don’t fuckin’ care what it is. Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

“This is not a fucking joke, Bakugou. You are asking me to marry you. What if I have a boyfriend? You didn’t even fucking ask!”

His eyes open wide, surprised. “Do you?”

You roll your eyes, releasing an exasperated sigh. “No! I don’t!”

“Then, what are you bitching about?”

You groan. “I’m bitching about the fact that I don’t know why would you put a whole big deal on me when we hate each other!”

“I trust you.”

It’s a short answer, his expression is even so neutral and sure that leaves you perplexed. Surprised at how easily he said those words.

“We don’t like each other…”

“I don’t need to like you to trust you, idiot.” It feels like he’s mocking you, but one look into his eyes and what he is saying actually feels right. He is completely sure of what he is saying. “I would even fuckin’ trust you with my life.”

He already does. Every day, at work.

Still, you can’t pass the opportunity to piss him off. “Wow. That’s deep, buddy.”

“Fuck you.”

Mission accomplished.

You laugh gently, looking at him still kneeling on the floor of your living room. The sight in itself is a miracle. A sight you won't get to see ever again from this man. But it’s not the image of his kneeling position that makes you take the decision.

It’s his eyes.

They are screaming, desperately begging for you to help him. And, damn it, he is right; you always are at the disposal of everyone when they need your help. Fuck! It is actually very annoying –but you will never admit that out loud, especially not to him.

You close your eyes, head tilting back, and take a long, deep breath.

You are so going to regret this.

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

Bakugou Katsuki immediately stands up and practically throws himself at you, his whole hulk of a body surrounding you in what you have never thought would ever happen between you two: a hug.

Are you though?

[kiyinian]

Part two

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

Ex-husband Simon who: Always does the month's grocery shopping with you, always coming up with lame excuses to spend more time with you. Always encourages your children to eat a lot, sometimes even more than they should, just to make sure the food runs out quickly and that you call him to help with the groceries.

Ex-husband Simon who: Never stopped wearing his wedding ring, even though you no longer wore yours. For him, you would always be his wife, no matter what, even if you refused to wear your wedding ring again.

Ex-husband Simon who: Is very attentive to the children, always picks them up from school when you can't, who takes them out every weekend, and on vacation, takes them on trips. And of course, always thinking about spending more time with you.

Ex-husband Simon who: Knows that divorce means divorce, but can't stop giving you Valentine's Day presents every year, even if you reject being his Valentine once again.

Ex-husband Simon who: Is always available when you need him, if something has broken in the house? Don't hesitate to call him. Need to buy something? Ask him and he'll sort it out. Want a shoulder to cry on? He'll be there for you.

Ex-husband Simon who: Always pays for things for you, especially when you go out with the children. He refuses to let you pay a single penny when he's around, even though he knows you have enough money to pay for whatever you want. Just as he won't stop sending you money, even if you work.

Ex-husband Simon who: Even though you live in separate houses, he always goes to the house where you and the children are living, the usual excuse being that he was passing by, so he decided to go and see the children. And you, too.

Ex-husband Simon who: Knows it's wrong to manipulate children like this, but he induces the little ones to dislike any other man you introduce to them. No matter how good your new romantic interest is, Simon can't stand the idea of you having someone else by your side. And the children think so too.

Ex-husband Simon who: Is happy when he hears that you haven't met anyone since you split up, that no other man had caught your eye. And he could only feel the relief and hope that this brought him.

Ex-husband Simon who: Tries to win you over again, always giving you presents, calling you to dinner, being the exemplary husband you needed. All the effort that was thrown away every time you denied him, he left with a heavy heart, but destined to try as many times as necessary. There was no other person who was like you, you were the only one for him.

Ex-husband Simon who: Almost felt his heart drop out of his mouth when he saw you all dressed up for your son's second birthday, you'd only prepared a small party, no big deal. But the sight of you was still breathtaking, even more so when you smiled so sweetly. He didn't take his eyes off you once that evening.

Ex-husband Simon who: Didn't hesitate to accept when you asked to spend the night with him, after the children were asleep. And you would have time alone after a long time apart.

Ex-husband Simon who: Made love to you as if it were the last time. He caressed every part of your body, made you feel butterflies in your stomach with every kiss he gave you. He pounded into you like a maniac, as if it were his last day on earth, telling you he loved you, calling you the nicknames he knew would make you weak in the knees. He made you see stars that night.

Ex-husband Simon who: Felt heartbroken when you said that everything that had happened was a mistake, and that it was a moment of weakness. It shouldn't have happened, that's what you said, but it all seemed so right to him.

Ex-husband Simon who: Didn't understand why you were distancing yourself from him after the night you shared together, that he felt he had done something wrong to you. Who didn't understand your nervousness, the way you stuttered and fidgeted next to him, he just thought he'd done something wrong and you were angry.

Ex-husband Simon who: Had no idea that you were actually nervous not because of some action of his, but because you didn't know how to break the news to him that you were pregnant, that your evening had resulted in an unplanned pregnancy. You were carrying twins.

Ex-husband Simon who: Almost fainted when you broke the news to him, he didn't know whether to cry with relief or joy. But in any case, he was sure that he would go through hell to get you back, he was going to do everything possible and impossible to make his family what it was before.

[earthtooz]

jealous ratio bc i wont him, inspired by the simulated universe occurrence, banter about marriage hehe

"Dr. No. 5 asked me to be his research partner today," you mumble half-heartedly to Veritas. It was an ordinary night, you're curled into his side with your phone in hand, watching the latest series you've been invested in whilst he occupies his mind with a book, held by one hand whilst his other is wrapped around you.

However, when he registers your confession, he tenses, slightly scrunching the pages of his book as the arm around you stiffens, muscles contracting.

"And what did you say?" He asks, feigning collectedness.

"I agreed."

His book slams shut and he shoots upward to a sitting position, baffled by the nonchalance of your tone. How cruel, you have betrayed him in the most despicable of ways, do you not care? Agreeing to be someone else's research partner is akin to that of spitting on his heart and stomping it flat, have you no respect for the laws of academic loyalty (there is no such thing), or is he the only one in your relationship devoted to it?

An idiot. You will be working with an idiot and you somehow see no flaw in that, where is your integrity as his lover?

"What does that fool have that I don't?" He all but cries, yanking your phone from your hands and setting it on his bedside table.

"What are you blabbering about?" You ask, looking up at him with inquisitive eyes, confusion shining in your irises.

"I'm supposed to be your only research partner, I cannot believe that you've gone and betrayed me like this."

"Pray tell, Veritas, how is this a 'betrayal'?"

"I would never choose to be anyone's research partner if I'm not yours, but today I've discovered that my devotion is not only unreciprocated, but unappreciated! How unfathomable."

The purple-haired turns his muscular back to you, giving you the cold shoulder. Slowly you sit up and lean on his toned body, hand resting on his deltoid and you can already see the way he tries to fight the effects of your touch. "Dear, you wouldn't be anyone else's research partner because you think majority of people are 'idiots' and aren't worthwhile academics to invest time into."

"Precisely why I cannot believe that you have agreed to work with No. 5, who is undeniably, irrefutably, and undoubtedly, a simpleton!"

You bite your tongue when it threatens to spill that you think No. 5 is not as bad as Veritas assumes, but that would outrage the scholar even more and you do not want to spend the better half of your day purposefully ruining it.

"The pay was good," you reason, daring to place a kiss to his neck. "But you are still superior in my heart, Veritas. Do not fret, if I am to seek a research partner, you would be my first and only choice."

"How long will your project span for?" He asks begrudgingly.

"6 months of research, writing, and editing. After that, I am not too involved with the publishing process."

"Oh how it stains me picturing your name beside another imbecile's."

You sigh, sitting up straighter to wrap both arms around his neck. "Your name could be beside mine permanently if you got down to one knee and presented me a ring, but alas, perhaps I shall be waiting another few research papers for that to happen."

You can't see the fond smile on his face, but you yelp when he turns around suddenly to push you against the comfort of your mattress, his lips claiming yours.

© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[brokenmenswhore]

can we get a part 2 to proposition? 🥺😩

i have NEVER gotten so many comments or inbox requests for something IN MY LIFE. here you go you horny fuckers i love you lots

a proposition: accepted | poly!marauders

pairing: poly!marauders x fem!reader (james, remus, and sirius, featuring alecto, dorcas, evan, lily, and mary)

warnings: exhibitionism/voyeurism (MDNI 18+), smut, virginity loss

a/n: there will be a part 3 IF y’all want it :)

a proposition: masterlist

────── ☾ ──────

“How exactly does this work?” you asked, looking around the table in search of an answer from anyone present. You were excited, and you accepted the offer immediately, but now craved more detail.

“The only people we have sex with are the people at this table,” James began to explain, “so it’s relationship-y in that sense, but none of us are coupled off or anything.”

“You guys don’t get worried about favorites?”

Dorcas and Lily smiled and let out a small ‘aweh’ at your innocence.

“Everyone brings something different to the table,” Dorcas began to explain, “for instance, I’m not getting the same head from Mary that I’m getting from James.”

Your cheeks reddened and your eyes widened at her crude statement. If you were going to do this, sex had to be something you were comfortable talking about, so you pushed your nerves down with a swallow, but the whole table could already sense your innocence.

“Do we, like, all do it, like, at the same time? Or-“

Sirius smiled. You were fucking perfect for this if that’s the idea you had in your head.

“We can,” Sirius took over, “or sometimes it’s just two of us, three of us, or whatever. As long as you’re only sexually active with the people at this table.”

“Are you sexually active with anyone else?” Alecto asked.

You swallowed hard. “N-no.”

“Ok, and what are your limits?”

You looked at Remus in confusion.

“We gotta ask a couple questions to know what you’re comfortable with,” he explained, but your confusion maintained.

“My limits?”

“Well, when you’ve had sex before, was there anything you didn’t like? Anything you would want any of us doing with you?”

You stared at Remus, hoping someone would ask another question and change the subject. Your silence was more telling than a verbal answer would have been.

“You have had sex, yeah?”

You dropped your head, your eyesight on your thighs where Sirius’s hand rested. You began to fidget with your fingers in nervousness.

Sirius shifted in his chair to adjust the uncomfortability of his growing hardness. He knew you were innocent, but he didn’t know you were that innocent.

“Is it really a good idea for us to bring a virgin into this?” Lily asked, immediately turning to you, “not that we don’t want you, love, but are you okay with this? Like really okay with it?”

“Yeah,” you responded, “but if you guys aren’t okay with-“

A chorus of “no no no we are!” and “it’s okay!” erupted from nearly everyone trying to assure you they were not having doubts of their own, but concerns for you.

“We’ll take it easy at first, and you just tell whoever you’re with if you aren’t comfortable with something, how about that?” James proposed, “we’ll work our way up to other things. No rush.”

You nodded your head, smiling at his understanding. “Yeah, yeah I like that.”

“Good,” Sirius said, “so you just stop me if you want to.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion as you looked at Sirius, who looked back at you as if he was doing nothing, but the hand on your thigh began to move.

You gasped lightly as Sirius moved higher and higher up your thigh, the only thing between his hand and your core being your underwear. He ran a finger over the cloth, a wet spot forming quickly as he rubbed between your folds.

Your cheeks were on fire as you looked around the table, and everyone was looking at you.

You suddenly became very self conscious, and leaned into the crook of Sirius’s neck, whispering, “they’re all just gonna watch?”

“Mhm,” Sirius hummed in your hair, tracing the band of your underwear, “that okay?”

He then dipped a finger beneath your underwear, finding your clit and slowly circling around the bud. No one but you had ever done this before, and it was exhilarating and embarrassing all at once.

“Can’t people see?” you whispered.

Sirius chuckled. He was so amused and having so much fun with you, as was everyone. “We gotcha covered, doll.”

The pet name drove you crazy, and you could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter as Sirius began to feel you.

You hid your face in the crook of his neck, but he advised you against it. “Let ‘em see your pretty face,” he said, “you’re here because we all wanna see this.”

Your heart was pounding, and barely anything had started, but you could feel everyone’s eyes on you.

You adjusted so that you were resting your head against Sirius’s shoulder, but could still see everyone, and they could still see you.

Sirius took the opportunity of your movement to move his fingers lower and insert one into you, causing your hips to jolt and you to moan in surprise.

“Sh,” Sirius warned, placing a kiss on top of your head, “we’re still in a restaurant, remember?”

You did not remember. Your thoughts were clouded by the pleasure and embarrassment you were experiencing.

Remus looked around the vicinity of the table to ensure no one else was in earshot, and he leaned over the wood, lowly saying, “you wanna show us all how you come?”

You had never experienced dirty talk, and didn’t comprehend that it was rhetorical.

Your voice was strained and low as you did your best to say, “sure.”

Both Evan and Lily giggled to each other. “You didn’t have to answer, honey, just relax. Sirius is a master at this stuff.”

Sirius pumped his finger in and out of you, your spongy walls convulsing around the digit as his thumb rubbed your clit, intensifying the pleasure.

You felt a drop in the pit of your stomach, and you knew what it meant. You tapped Mary’s shoulder next to you. It was the nearest thing, and you hoped she would catch on.

“What’s up?” she asked, playing dumb.

You only tapped her more fervently.

“Gotta use your words, angel,” James chimes in, “we all wanna hear you say it.”

You took a deep breath, nearly whispering, “I think I’m gonna come, Sirius, I-“

Sirius moved his hand faster and faster, and he was nearly growling as you leaned your body against his, finding comfort in him as you came around his fingers, your legs shaking from the intensity.

Everyone at the table began to cheer as a tease. Sirius removed his hand from you, looking you directly in the eyes as he licked your juices off of his fingers.

You gazed up at him through hooded eyes, attempting to catch your breath as your body adjusted to the absence of pleasure again.

“Is it okay if I stay here for a while?” you asked, referring to your head resting on Sirius’s shoulder.

“Of course,” he answered, looking to everyone else, “good pick on my part, I’d say.”

────── ☾ ──────

“What’s up?” you asked James the next day as he sat across from you at your usual table in the library.

“They sent me to ask you because they think I’m the nicest,” James said.

“Ask me what?” you asked.

“Well,” James started, “you know, you’re a part of this thing now, and they just- we just- oh my god. Do you have a preference on who you lose your virginity to?”

Your eyes widened. “Do I have a preference?”

“This is all consent based, we aren’t just gonna decide something like that for you.”

“Are you asking me to pick one of you to give it up to?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Doesn’t it make me an asshole if I don’t say you?”

“Why would it?” James questioned.

“Because you’re the one asking me.”

“I have Lily and Dorcas’s, I’m set,” James said, “taking Lily’s was a win.”

“You’re such a guy,” you joked.

“You’re avoiding the question,” James retorted. “Sirius is the one who wanted to bring you into this in the first place, you know.”

You began to blush. “I’m scared of Sirius.”

“Scared? What do you mean?”

“Yesterday was fun, but for my first time, I’m scared he’d be too rough.”

“Sirius is a big ol’ softie,” James said, leaning back in his chair, “but fair enough. No pressure, angel, just let me know whenever you’re ready.”

You assumed that meant you had time, but James didn’t move.

“You really want an answer now, huh?”

“I kinda really do,” James smiled.

You contemplated your options, sifting through all the members of the group that you could choose from. You would be okay with a few of them, but one felt especially right.

“Remus,” you said.

James nodded. “Remus it is.”

“This feels weird.”

“You could just tell him yourself,” James said, standing up, leaving you with the idea to do so.

After classes has ended, you stood outside the Gryffindor common room, waiting for anyone you knew to walk by and let you in.

“Fuckin’ hell, you guys take forever,” you said as Lily approached, “can you let me in? I need to talk to Remus.”

Lily smiled. “Yeah you do,” she giggled.

She let you into the common room and directed you to the boys dormitories. You crept up the staircase, unsure of who would be there and not wanting to intrude or see something you shouldn’t.

Up the stairs, you found Remus, James, and Evan.

“Hey,” you said.

“Hey,” Evan responded, “you need something?”

“Would you guys mind if I spoke to Remus real quick?”

James and Evan didn’t answer, but instead just stood up and began to leave. When James was next to you, he leaned in and whispered, “hope it’s not real quick,” before departing.

You blushed and turned to Remus, who was kind enough to act like he didn’t know why you were there.

“What’s up?” Remus asked, sitting on the edge of his bed.

“I know James told everyone about our conversation, you don’t have to play dumb, though I do appreciate it.”

“Not playin’ dumb, baby, just wanna hear you ask for what you came here for.”

You took a deep breath and sat down next to Remus, the mattress sinking beneath you. “As you know, I’m a virgin.”

Remus chuckled. “I know.”

“I’d kinda like to not be.”

Remus smiled. “So ask me.”

“What?”

“Ask me,” he repeated, “can’t give you what you want if you don’t explicitly ask for it.”

You sighed. “I want you to please take my virginity, Remus.”

“Atta girl,” Remus said, leaning over and placing a soft kiss on your lips.

You reciprocated instantly, shifting your body closer to his as you deepened the kiss. You were not entirely confident in what you were doing, but you listened to your body, which had never been needier.

Remus guided your body down against the mattress, and pulled away when you were laying down.

“You can move back,” he said, and you used your arms to push yourself backward, allowing your entire body to rest against the bed.

“I’m gonna take it easy on you, just tell me if anything is too much, okay?”

“Okay.”

Remus kissed you again, and simultaneously pulled your skirt and underwear off of your legs in one action.

“You want this off?” he said, tugging at the bottom of your top.

“Can we maybe just leave it on? Baby steps, right?”

Remus gave you a sweet smile. “Whatever you’re comfortable with, baby.”

“Are you allowed to call me that?”

Remus was slightly taken aback. “What, baby? Yeah, why not?”

“It sounds relationship-y.”

“Sex is relationship-y.”

“But I thought we weren’t supposed to be relationship-y.”

“You’re about to lose your virginity, and you’re worried about if it’s ethically alright for me to call you baby?”

You blushed.

“I can call you whatever I want, and right now, you’re my baby, okay?”

“Okay,” you responded.

“Unless you don’t like it.”

“No, no, I do.”

Remus laughed. “Okay then, baby.”

You smiled as you pulled his lips back to yours. You were already soaking wet, but Remus still took the time for foreplay to ensure you were wet enough for it to be comfortable.

He softly rubbed circles on your clit, and you instinctively threw your head back against the mattress, sighing in pleasure.

He only stayed for a few moments before moving his hand lower and inserting one, then two, fingers into you. You didn’t really need the foreplay, but he felt bad fucking you without it. He needed to make sure you were ready, especially if you didn’t know how to tell yourself.

He pumped his fingers in and out a few times before removing them completely and unbuttoning his trousers, pushing them down, and crawling back on top of you.

“Are you ready?” he checked in.

“Yes,” you said, deciding explicit verbal consent was important.

Remus pumped his cock a few times before lining it up with your entrance. He pushed the very tip of his head in, getting his bearings before he drifted his gaze to your face, desperate to watch your reaction to feeling him for the first time.

He pushed in slowly, pausing for brief moments anytime your face contorted a little more than usual, and he took his time. He was in no rush, and he was focused on your comfort, which you appreciated.

When he finally bottomed out inside of you, he stilled, waiting for you to adjust to his size.

“You alright?” he checked in when you hadn’t opened your eyes or made a noise for a solid 30 seconds.

“I’m alright,” you assured him, “you can move.”

“You sure?”

“Mhm.”

Remus slowly pulled partially out of you before pushing back in. He was moving excruciatingly slow, and was fighting with all his strength not to ruthlessly fuck you into oblivion.

He began to pull out a little more with each thrust, studying your face to gage your comfort levels. By the time he was pulling almost all the way out he could physically see your muscles relax.

“How ya doin’?”

“I’m okay,” you whined, “hurts a little, but it’s going away now.”

“You wanna stop?”

“No, please keep moving,” you moaned.

Remus growled lowly and began to fuck into you again, moving slightly faster, but it wasn’t enough for you.

The burning pain had dissipated, and now all you wanted was more.

“Remus, please, faster,” you whimpered, and Remus’s body instantly responded.

He began to move faster and faster, setting a steady, relatively fast pace as he fucked in and out of you.

You ran your fingers through the hair on the back of his head and pulled him into a kiss as he fucked you, allowing him to swallow your moans and whines.

“Shit, you feel so good,” Remus praised, “I forgot how tight virgins are.”

His words added to your arousal, and you began to squeeze Remus’s cock, adding to his pleasure.

“Fuck,” he moaned, “I won’t last if you do that.”

“Can’t help it,” you moaned out.

Remus began to fuck you even faster, and your back arched up off of the bed at the new intensity. Remus took the opportunity to wrap an arm around your waist and hold you closer to him.

You were squirmy and whiny. “Relax, baby,” Remus cooed, “just let it feel good.”

You took a deep breath and tried to relax, relishing in the feeling of Remus’s cock pumping in and out of you.

“Feel good?” he asked.

“Mhm,” you hummed in response, “can’t- gonna-“

“You wanna come?” Remus taunted, “you wanna come on my cock?”

You nodded your head frantically, grabbing at the arms propped up directly next to your head for any support you could find.

“Wanna feel you, baby,” Remus whispered in your ear, and his words did you in.

You squeezed Remus tight as you came. Your back would have arched more if Remus wasn’t holding it in place. Your thighs were shaking violently as you continued to squeeze around him.

He forced himself to slow down as you came down from your high. When your breathing had reset, he pulled out of you, giving his cock a few pumps with his hand before he released onto the sheets next to your waist.

You wiped sweat-soaked hair from your forehead. “You could have done that on me.”

Remus grinned, “I could have, huh?” He leaned in and kissed you before standing up to retrieve you a towel.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, thank you, Rem.”

Remus’s heart swelled at the small nickname. “Fuckin wait until I tell everyone about this.”

────── ☾ ──────

taglist: @alixmarauders @riddlemenottsluttyslytherin @twilightlover2007 @hcqwxrtss123 @queerndepressed @prongs-wolfstar-marauders @flowersarcute

[beneathsilverstars]

i think it's key that being a kid is soo frustrating... both because you're not in control of much of your life, which would be frustrating for anyone, and because you haven't yet learned how to deal with frustrating situations.

when you're an adult and your friend gets hurt in battle, it's a tragedy, but you have seen battles and you have seen tragedies (more or less directly), and you know that shit just happens sometimes. it's scary and sad but you've built habits for how to react when you're scared and sad. you hoped it would never happen, but you knew it could, through sheer bad luck.

when you're a kid, this is the (second) worst thing that has ever happened to you, and however unready an adult might be a kid can only be less so. siffrin is cool and strong, he is not supposed to get HURT like this. it rocks bonnie's whole worldview. this isn't supposed to happen, it's not fair, and that's where the anger comes from! and they direct the anger at whoever caused the tragedy or should've-but-didn't prevent it: siffrin, who jumped in to defend bonnie. and bonnie themself, who couldn't take out the sadness on their own or do anything to stop/protect siffrin.

so they're mad at siffrin for jumping to their defense and getting hurt. and it's extra hard to move away from that feeling, because every time they even just look at siffrin they see the eyepatch. and they feel guilty, mad at themself for being unable to help, and they think siffrin should be mad at them too - but he's not, he's trying to act like it's no big deal. and that's even worse. what is bonnie supposed to do with all this guilt, then! why is no one else angry, why doesn't anyone else realize that it's not FAIR!

but what can they do? they're still not allowed to fight. siffrin won't yell at them or cry to them or anything. the adults try to shield bonnie from the worst, saying it will be fine, but bonnie knows it's not fine but what can they do. so they distance themself from siffrin because looking at them makes them feel angry and guilty. and they do their best to cook things their friends will like, helping the one way they're allowed to. and they just keep going with their life, but a little more volatile now, because every injustice or failure or frustration flares up that same ever-burning fire of anger and guilt. esp when it comes to siffrin; now that they're mad at him, it's easier to latch onto any additional reason to get mad at him, anything that is easier to understand and express.

specifically when it comes to fear turning to anger, i feel like the relationship between those emotions is like... acute fear in the moment. next, anger that something so awful happened. and then the slow burn of fear that it could happen again, alongside anger at anyone who caused or didn't prevent the scary thing. so fear is about what's happening, and anger is about why. also, anger feels more productive? when you're afraid, you run away and hide. when you're angry, you yell and fight. and bonnie is sick of running! so they lean into the anger whenever possible instead.

Hello bonnie enjoyer. How does one characterize bonnie. I want to write them but I don't know when their fear turns to anger, or when their sadness quiets down. I want to know bonnie!! - @wish-upon-the-universe (when will tumblr let side blogs ask questions 😔)

i am.so sorry HHELP i honestly. dooo not know SQUEAKS. a lot of my bonnie characterization is cross referencing with the game and then hoping REALLY hard.. child characters can be hard to write SQUEAKS!! i apologize but i am also honored that i am the bonnie enjoyer o7

[honeytonedhottie]

how to embrace being alone⋆.ೃ࿔*:･✍🏽🎀

learning to be alone is such a crucial thing to learn at all times during your life, but especially during your youth. and something to understand is that sometimes, protecting your peace comes at the cost of being alone but being alone is peaceful! and not as bad as you might think that it is.

being alone offers an opportunity for self discovery and growth and rest and relaxation and reflection and the list goes ON. being able to enjoy your own company is a SUPER power bcuz it genuinely nourishes you so much.

ENJOYING UR OWN COMPANY ;

you dont have to be codependent on someone else to make yourself happy or to make yourself feel good. what fulfills you and nourishes you isnt the relationships that u have with others. although that is an amazing and fulfilling thing, the most fulfilling thing is learning yourself. being alone REPLENISHES you, its like, hydration for the soul.

dont wait on someone else to do something that you wanna do!! if u dont have anyone to go with, just go on your own. you dont have to wait on others to be happy…💬🎀

PRACTICE BEING ALONE ;

go on solo dates, practice planning to do something fun and just doing it by yourself. once you start doing things alone and you see how nice it feels, you'll want to do it more bcuz its so easy to enjoy your own company, you just have to get over your fear of judgement or of being alone and learn to enjoy and embrace it.

♡ have a spa day

♡ learn to cook a new dish

♡ read a book

♡ have a journalling session

♡ schedule appointments for urself

♡ go on a long drive

SOME BENEFITS OF ENJOYING UR OWN COMPANY ;

♡ u can be urself without filter

♡ less distractions and u give urself time to ponder and look internally

♡ ur in control of ur space and time

♡ u can be creative and imaginative without reference

♡ its peaceful

BEING UR OWN BESTFRIEND ;

treat yourself how you'd treat someone that you valued a lot. be compassionate and understanding and respectful. dont talk badly about yourself and dont be mean to/punish yourself bcuz u wouldn't do that to someone that u loved and cherished…💬🎀

dont abandon yourself in times where life can become stressful. focus on being present and dont forget your worth. your self worth and value doesn’t come from how useful you are to others, your valuable simply because you are you. a human being who is deserving of love. your worth doesnt come from how productive you are or what you’ve achieved, instead your worth is already done and your valuable because of your existence. 

COPING WITHOUT FRIENDS ;

everything is temporary and meaningful relationships will always find their way to you. just understand that some ppl are here temporarily and some ppl are here for a lifetime but only you are here for all of it which is why its important to be alone and be comfy with that.

not everyone is gonna like you or wanna be your friend and thats okay. it has nothing to do with you and is almost always simply because of different personalities and its not personal

brush off rejections bcuz rejection is just redirection. when you dont take everything personally you'll notice how much happier you'll be overall.

know that the meaningful relationships and connections that u crave will come!! no one is here to be alone forever so you'll meet the people who pour into you and you'll meet ppl that u can pour into and you'll be okay!!

overall, enjoying your own company does wonders for your mental and physical health and its a useful skill to learn in general because it brings so much peace from being able to sit with your thoughts…💬🎀

[savanir]

DP x DC prompt [3]

during one of the final psych evals at Arkham right before he gets to be released, the whole thing wrapped up so tidy, just a little relapse which involved a robbery. Getting sent back to Arkham, but he got to stay at the asylum so long that he no longer has to serve a prison sentence, score!

But during that eval his overseeing psychiatrist recommended him to have a change of scenery, some fresh non polluted air.

Riddler was rather convinced the guy was making this recommendation to everyone in Arkham in their own weird way to convince them to just leave Gotham and become someone else's problem. should he notify Batman about it somehow? nah, it’ll be more interesting to see how this is gonna turn out in the long run.

But can he leave the state? Can he even leave the city? he never really bothered to look into it, at least not legally, up until now if he felt he needed to leave for one of his plans he just did it.

Turns out he can, it’s a whole hassle and a half though, first a judge and then a probation officer and he’s pretty sure both were like “what the hell is this psychiatrist guy thinking!?” but at the same time, shrink probably knows what he’s doing (WRONG) so he’s allowed to go visit out of state family or whatever.

he had to wear this nice ankle monitor though, Wayne Enterprises™ tech, not overly bulky but still very present. real fancy, and a fun extra challenge heh.

now as for a good reason to leave New Jersey he’s going to need distant relatives, and he finds some, great grandpa walker also has a son, who had a son who had a daughter Madeline, who married some guy Jack Fenton, and she lives somewhere out in the boonies Illinois. great he’ll visit her.

far enough away in all sense of the word that there is no way she knows anything about him. it would be best to call her first though, be polite about it.

“hello, you have reached Fenton works, this is Maddie speaking” 

“Riddle me this-” ah whoops, habit, oh whatever, “we don’t share parents, but certainly a part of your life, from laughter to strife. Who am I?”

there is a pause …  he’s going to be a bit disappointed if she hangs up if he’s honest.

“cousins~” comes the cheery reply.

“correct! the name is Edward Nygma, we are distantly related you and I and well-”

“oh you simply must come visit!” 

well this was rather easy, perhaps a little too easy, but she lives in the midwest so maybe just going with whatever some guy says over the phone is normal there? stranger danger not really a thing in a small town where everyone knows everyone?

things start to make a little more sense once he gets there and he’s starting to think some things might run in the family. like a preference for the colour green and weird hyperfixations and genius bordering on insanity. Though that remains to be seen, Jack does not seem like a very bright light after his very enthusiastic welcome.

their kids however are observant and sharp. young Jasmine is wasting no time trying to psychoanalyze him. and the boy, Danny, he had not really meant to and he swears he’s sticking with calling the kid Danny so he wouldn’t seem overly familiar, but he might have called him little bird a couple times now.

but that’s all whatever, he’s playing nice here. and he doesn’t even have to worry about his eccentricities tripping him up because this place is insane.

There actually is a local teen vigilante active but he seems about as loved as he’s disliked. and the ghost boy’s enemies are basically all his own kind, which another crazy thing to now know about. ghost. they are real actually, how is Gotham not completely overrun? and how do they even work? and where do they keep coming from?

Edward might be getting a little sidetracked here. He had fully intended to sneakily get his next big game plan underway all the way out here, ankle monitor be damned. but he hasn’t made any progress at all.

Instead he’s been listening to Madeline and Jack to maybe figure out what the deal is with these ectoplasmic entities, he has to know, at this point he might go crazier if he doesn’t. 

He’s making Jasmine promise him not to get her doctorate in Gotham, he’s going back and forth with space riddles with Danny.

so yeah the whole thing kinda just became a vacation, maybe the psychiatrist had the right idea after all? hmm nah, probably not. but this is fun. He’s thinking about recommending this place to some of the others.

It's different enough to get the vacation feel, but enough crazy shit happens to make it all feel like home.

it is not until Maddie wants to talk with him about potentially switching the position of godfather of Danny to him rather than some weird rich friend of theirs that Edward realizes he might have lost the plot somewhere

Apparently the little bird basically begged them with a powerpoint presentation on how he likes Edward so much more than that Vladimir guy. 

And honestly, the fellow sounds like a Dracula Lutho so even if it’s kinda sad Edward can understand why he’d be considered a better option. Even if the guy has more money and a huge company that makes him said money. And it’s not like the Fentons know about his Riddler activities.

Thinking it over, Edward does think that Danny would like Gotham and Wayne has that space program thing right? The kid is definitely smart enough for that (Nygma certified), and yeah Edward does quite like their space themed back and forth. So, fuck it, why not, what is the worst that could happen?

He doubts Maddie and Jack are gonna kick it any time soon anyway out here in the boonies, it’s just a title thing, a stamp of approval or something.

he should have known he was going to eat those words later… he had this whole beautifully elaborate trap set up for the whole Batclan, and he was just getting to the good part when his phone went off.

Had to put the whole thing on pause cause that particular contact wasn’t gonna get ignored. He did promise to be available.

If the whole thing he had planned now went tits up he could at the very least laugh later at the reactions of the bats as he told them to “hold up one second, I have to take this.” while they were all in various perilous positions. 

Sadly he did have to go, he had a very distressed godson to pick up.