#bc of the threat of the unknown and the threat to the order of the world. but the reality is it'll feel Bad even in success

[pocketgalaxies]

thinking about if/how the loss of opal as we know her will affect at all their perception of protecting the gods, especially compounded with fcg's death. when you reunite with someone you've missed so much and all he has to tell you is that his brother was killed by a god and his friend was forcibly surrendered to serve that god in the name of self-protection from predathos. when your best friend found so much hope in their god and went on this journey with you feeling like they were doing the work of a god who helped him find purpose, and all there is to show for it is a pile of scrap metal. how do you reconcile the idea that your mission is to defeat this entity that threatens the gods, when the gods are relentlessly demanding sacrifice and death from the people you love in order to protect themselves. how can you not think for at least a moment that maybe the gods deserve to be destroyed

[shadowqueenjude]

I’ve been wanting to make a post about this for a while, but here it is:

Rhysand despises Nesta. Like…a lot. He’s also afraid of her, because her powers are so raw and unknown. Also her cunning because he finds that she’s very difficult to manipulate. So he locks her up with Cassian, hoping the power of the mating bond will influence her.

Rhysand looooves Feyre. He finds her powerful physically, but easy to manipulate. The perfect combination for him.

Rhysand likes Elain. She’s nice, minds her own business, and doesn’t really go against his orders. But, he doesn’t view her as capable of anything, no matter what bs he said in the BC, because if he did he would’ve been “helping” her at this point. Plus, she’s emotionally intelligent and Lucien’s mate, and Rhysand doesn’t want to go down that route with Lulu boy.

Rhysand dislikes Lucien. Not quite so strongly as Nesta, but he knows the kind of power Lucien holds. Not magic exactly, though he has that too, but his political influence. He can’t bring himself to treat him right, but he can’t ditch him either because Night desperately needs him. Also, Lucien is Feyre’s only friend that isn’t by connection to Rhys. That puts him in a unique position to actually turn Feyre against Rhysand.

Rhysand “hates” Tamlin, yet he knows they need him to keep Beron and Koschei in check. Yet he can’t bring himself to treat him right. He doesn’t know what to do. Should he shit on him or take care of him? The homoerotic feelings from Rhys are strong.

Cassian and Azriel? Rhysand likes them but doesn’t think of them as more than lackeys homies.

Basically what I’m trying to say is that the more Rhysand hates somebody, the more he actually respects them. The more Rhysand likes somebody, the less he actually respects them. Rhysand likes people who aren’t a threat or a challenge to the power he has gathered, but will help him keep said power.

[projectionistwrites]

FOR SCIENCE | SUBJECT 3

In which the Moon Knight alter system presents a unique opportunity to settle the nature versus nurture debate, once and for all...

Jake Lockley x afab!psychologist!reader (13.0k+)

RATING: EXPLICIT (18+, mdni) WARNINGS: fetishization of mental disorders (DID), psychoanalysis, potentially unethical scientific practices, SMUT (dom/sub dynamics, fingering, oral (f! and m!receiving), unprotected p in v sex, doggystyle, spanking, mean!Jake, degradation, dacryphilia, daddy/papi kink, cum eating, creampie, soft sex, needy/touch-starved!Jake, praise kink, dirty talk), lots of spanish NOTES: jake lockley deserves so much love. this was hard to write, i had so much i wanted to put into this chapter and i hope it all came through okay. also, i am not a native spanish speaker, but i worked really hard to make sure all of my conjugations/phrases were correct, but still, feel free to correct me! this is the final case study installment of this series, there will be one final concluding chapter (+ potentially a bonus part bc i’m feeling generous) DISCLAIMER: although i’m incredibly knowledgeable about psychology, i am NOT a professional. all psychoanalyses made throughout the course of this storyline are entirely my own, based on my own interpretations of the characters. in a similar vein, i am also not an expert on DID specifically (although i am well-read on mental disorders and diagnoses), so i apologize for any incorrect terminology or misrepresentation. don’t hesitate to call me out if i say something wrong!

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CASE STUDY: JAKE LOCKLEY

ROLE IN COGNITIVE SYSTEM: Protector

ATTACHMENT STYLE: Dismissive

CHARACTERISTICS: volatile, tenacious, arrogant, cunning, reticent; a true adrenaline junkie (engages in risky behavior in an attempt to fill his emotional deficit with a brief but intense adrenaline rush); extremely autonomous.

SPLIT FROM HOST: ??? currently unknown/unconfirmed (predicted to have emerged as a result of some feeling of physical inadequacy or repeated threats to safety; may potentially trace back to host's service in the military).

TRAUMA RESPONSE: thinks every hill is one to die on; unwilling to compromise or make sacrifices in fear of revealing vulnerability; maintains face no matter the consequence.

SEXUAL PRESENTATION: demanding, excitable, impetuous, unapologetic, aggressive; unafraid to take what he wants, but uncomfortable with affection.

Your heart was picking up speed as you knocked loudly against the door for the fifth time.

Surely he was inside. Where the hell else would he be? You’d texted with him just hours before—well, technically not Jake, since he refused to use a phone, but Marc—confirming that you were still good for your previously scheduled arrangement. Had he changed his mind? Did something happen?

Your anxiety got the better of you as you fished around in your jacket pocket to pull out your keyring. Steven had given you a copy of the key to their flat in case you ever needed it, or if you wanted to come over before he got home from work. You had yet to actually use it, but you figured this constituted as enough of an emergency to warrant your uninvited entrance.

You clumsily slipped the brass into the keyhole and jiggled it, twisting it until you heard the click of the lock. You silently prayed that Jake—or whoever was fronting—hadn’t engaged any of the other locks on the door that could only be unhinged from the inside. Fortunately for you, the knob twisted and the door swung open with ease, revealing the familiarity of the flat within.

It was... quiet. Not eerily so, but enough to make you proceed with caution. Everything appeared to be in order, undisturbed and in its place, but still, you felt a sense of uneasiness crawl up your spine.

You weren’t a stranger to the feeling, though. You often felt this way when you were in the company of Jake. You enjoyed his presence, and wanted to get to know him better, but still, he was unpredictable and volatile—you never knew what to expect when he was fronting. You couldn’t read him as well as the other two alters, and as someone who had an affinity for picking up on unspoken emotional cues, you weren't particularly fond of the element of surprise.

You heard a low buzz from somewhere off to your right, and as the door clicked shut behind you, you wandered towards the source of the noise on the other side of the apartment. As you grew closer, you recognized the previously indiscernible sound—humming.

“...Jake?”

You called out softly, and just as rounded the edge of the bookshelf that separated the living space from the bedroom, the door to the bathroom flew open.

The man in question strolled through the doorway, steam billowing behind him, whistling to himself, but he froze when he saw you standing before him. He quickly recovered from his initial shock, however.

“Bebita. Looks like you need to work on your patience.”

He teased, and you felt your mouth run dry as you took in his appearance. He’d clearly just finished up in the shower—there were still droplets of water rolling down his shoulders and the toned skin of his chest and abdomen, trailing southbound where a white towel hung lowly on his hips. You could see the dark hair of his happy trail against his navel, the towel very loosely covering his modesty. His hair was wet and tussled, curls falling across his forehead, and you’d be lying if you said this wasn’t one of the most attractive sights you’d ever seen in your life.

Much to your chagrin, he seemed to pick up on the effect that his appearance had on you. You watched as his lips curled into a devilish grin, staring at you with a depraved look in his deep brown eyes that only Jake was capable of.

“Why—Why didn’t you answer the door?”

Your voice wavered slightly, betraying you in your attempt to appear collected. His head tilted slightly in question.

“Because...I was in the shower.”

Oh. Right.

You swallowed, lips downturned into a small frown, suddenly feeling sheepish at your previous concern for his safety. However, your focus returned to Jake as he slinked forward, taking a few slow, deliberate steps in your direction.

“You’re blushing, mi vida. Am I making you nervous?”

You unconsciously shook your head at his question, although you could feel your heart racing in your chest as he drew closer to you.

“No? Hm, that’s a shame. I could’ve sworn I saw you staring at my cock.”

He paused when only a foot and a half remained between you, and you felt your face grow even redder at his statement. As much as you tried to resist, as much as you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, your gaze involuntarily flickered down to glance at his crotch—you could see the outline of his hardening member through the soft material of the towel, more prominent than it had been even a few seconds prior.

A dark chuckle escaped him, and you forced your gaze back onto his face. He was grinning wickedly, gazing at you with a carnal gleam in his eye.

“Está bien, bebita. I know how much you like it. That’s why you rushed in here, isn’t it? Didn’t want to wait for papi’s cock any longer?”

Your breath hitched in your throat. Your jaw fell slack at the nickname he assigned to himself—you felt your knees grow weak. Just as you’d said—unpredictable. You certainly hadn’t expected that.

But fuck, you really liked it.

His smirk turned into a toothy grin as he observed your reaction to his taunt. One more step towards you and you were only a short distance apart. You could see moisture congregating in the divot of his collarbone, and you desperately wanted to lick at the pooled water.

“Are you going to be good for me, bebita?”

You nodded dumbly at him, any cohesive thought escaping from your brain as all you could perceive was Jake, Jake, Jake. He parroted your senseless nodding, mocking you condescendingly. Without another word, he dropped the towel from his waist and it pooled around his ankles, exposing his fully-erect member to your sight, and you swooned.

His tongue traced over his lower lip sensually, looking at you through hooded eyes. A shadow crossed his face as his mouth contorted into a sneer.

“Get on your knees.”

You obeyed before you even consciously processed the command, collapsing onto your knees before him, your abrupt fall cushioned by his discarded towel. Your mouth watered as you became eye-level with the hardness of his cock, the vein beneath the underside of his shaft just begging for your attention. You resisted, instead opting to stare up at Jake’s face expectantly, awaiting further instruction. It was clear to you that he liked to be in control.

He smirked at your complacency, his hand reaching up to lazily stroke his cock a few times, watching the way your eyes followed the movement of his hands with laser focus, your lips slightly parted in anticipation. He tilted his hips forward and slapped your cheeks with the ruddy head of his cock a few times, and you whimpered at the action, eyes squeezed shut tightly with restraint.

“Stick out your tongue for me, bebita.”

You obliged, opening your mouth wide and letting your tongue loll out past your lips. He tapped his length against the slick muscle, and you savored the familiar tang of his precum on your tastebuds as he pulled back to fist at his cock again. You whined as he withdrew from you, but he just tutted at you condescendingly, slapping your cheek once more with his member.

“Oh, pobrecita. You want papi to let you play with his cock?”

You nodded feverishly, staring up at him through your lashes, doe-eyed. He pouted his lip out in a look of mock pity before removing his hand from his length.

“Go on, then, bebita.”

You lurched forward, your tongue flexing to lick a long stripe on the underside of his cock, tracing the jagged vein that had enticed you earlier. He hummed at the action, watching as you eagerly lifted your hands to begin slowly pumping the velvety skin of his shaft, your lips suctioning around the flushed tip and tongue dipping into the slit. A low groan rumbled deep within his chest as you bobbed your head, eyes never leaving his face as you studied each reaction he had to your movements.

“There you go, mi vida. So good for papi.”

You moaned around his cock at the repeated use of the title, and he chuckled at your obvious approval, one hand finally reaching up to card through your hair as you continued to work more of his length into your mouth.

“You gonna let papi fuck your pretty little mouth, hm?”

He pulled his hips back, removing his member from your touch and you gasped in a breath. You nodded in response to his question, opening your mouth expectantly, and he all but laughed at your eagerness.

“You want it bad, huh, bebita? You gonna ask nicely?”

“Please, papi.”

The word sounded foreign on your tongue, but your discomfort melted away when you saw Jake’s cock jump at the sound of your desperate pleading and he threw his head back in satisfaction.

“Please, fuck my face. Want to feel you in my throat. Please.”

He seemed satisfied with your begging as he wrapped both of his hands in your hair, tilting your head upward and guiding your towards his awaiting length. When your hands reached up to rest on his thighs, he pulled back, hissing at you.

“No, mi vida. Hands behind your back. Don’t make me tell you again.”

You clasped your hands behind yourself obediently, opening your mouth again, and you finally felt the fat tip of his cock rest against your tongue.

You practically choked when he harshly thrusted into your mouth, sinking nearly his entire length into your throat without warning. Before you could even recover, he was pulling back and repeating the motion, not giving you any time to adjust to the intrusion or ease you into a rhythm. You gagged unceremoniously as he fucked your face with reckless abandon, so you tried to slacken your jaw and just take it.

“Look at you, mi llorica. So beautiful when you cry for me, with my cock in your mouth.”

You could barely see him through the blur of tears as they rolled down your cheeks, mixing with the saliva that was foaming around your lips and dribbling down your chin. He picked up his pace, grunting with each motion, the head of his cock bruising the back of your throat with every forward thrust. He was guiding your head forward and backward in time with his movements, successfully burying himself into your face.

“You want me to cum down your throat, bebita? Going to take everything papi gives you?”

You garbled around his length as his balls slapped against your chin, and you felt his cock throb on your tongue as he sheathed himself completely inside of you, growling out your name as he shot his load as deep into your throat as he could. Still, he challenged you more, forcing himself further and further down your throat with each spurt of cum that he released, your nose smushed against his pubic bone as you swallowed around him, trying with all of your might to prevent yourself from gagging and ruining his orgasm.

With a satisfied groan, he slowly pulled his spent member from your mouth, and you gasped harshly, sucking in a deep breath of air and finally allowing the muscles of your neck to relax. There was a soreness lingering in the back of your throat, but you relished in the feeling as you wiped the mix of spit and tears from your face with the back of your hand, staring up at the fucked-out expression that Jake offered you.

“Did so well for me, bebita. What do you say to papi?”

There was an edge to his tone, his domineering persona not faltering for even a second as your scratchy voice responded accordingly.

“Thank you, papi.”

He nodded at you approvingly, watching as you blinked up at him expectantly. He was pleasantly surprised at just how quickly you’d fallen into submission—he thought he might have to coax you into cooperating with him, but it was clear to him that you were eager to please, your eyes glistening with residual tears from one of the best goddamned blowjobs he’d ever had in his life.

He leaned down and clasped his hands on your shoulders, yanking you to your feet without a word. You saw his eyes flicker down to your swollen, spit-soaked lips, but his gaze was hard as he took a step away from you, as if to resist the temptation to kiss you.

“Strip. Hands and knees, on the bed for me. Now, bebita.”

You didn’t protest as you hastily heeded his words, shedding your layers of clothing and tossing them to the floor before you scampered back towards the bed, crawling to your hands and knees in the center, head facing towards the pillows. You could hear Jake creeping up behind you, but you resisted the urge to turn your head and follow his movements, opting instead to squeeze your eyes shut and wait.

You weren’t afraid of Jake. Of course you weren’t. You knew he’d never hurt you—not unless you wanted him to. Nonetheless, you knew what he was capable of—actually, that was the thing. You didn’t know what he was capable of, but still, you could see the thinly-veiled chaos that swirled behind his coffee-colored irises, could sense the firm restraint he forced upon himself when he was around you, holding some unnamed beast at bay on your behalf. It scared you, but also sparked something inside of you—a primitive, savage excitement as he stalked you like his prey. Was it wrong if you secretly hoped he’d unleash the mayhem that resided within him, let himself go? God only knows the man deserved an outlet in which to channel his frustrations.

You felt the mattress dip down behind you, Jake kneeling on the bed behind your bowed position—your nerves spiked at the vulnerability you displayed, exposed as you practically felt his eyes tear through your body with crazed, wanton desire.

You were surprised to feel a soft caress on your hips, his rough fingers delicately ghosting over the supple skin on your waist. It was comforting, soothing, and surprising—a needed reassurance under his scrutinizing gaze. You felt his lips brush softly against the tender flesh of your left buttock, and you relaxed slightly, letting yourself sink down to your forearms but keeping your ass raised with the arching of your back.

“Are you ready, mi vida?”

He asked quietly, and you managed to squeak out a small ‘yes’ before sinking further into the bed and shifting your hips backs toward him in anticipation. He chuckled at your obvious eagerness, greedy for his touch, and you startled when his tender hold on your hips tightened into a bruising grip, the soft press of his lip to your left asscheek morphing until he was sinking his teeth into the flesh with a playful nip.

You yelped at the abrupt shift in demeanor, the sound earning you a sharp smack to your other cheek, his palm quickly rubbing the afflicted area to soothe the lingering sting of his spanking. You pressed your forehead into the sheet beneath you, your legs beginning to quiver with desperation.

“You’re going to stay like this, and take what I give you. Don’t move. ¿Vale, bebita?”

You nodded, but were met with another harsh swat on your backside at your lack of a verbal confirmation.

“Yes! Okay, papi, okay. Just—please.”

You were practically dripping onto the mattress beneath you, your arousal slickening your needy cunt as you desperately sought out any stimulation.

The pads of his fingers experimentally swiped through your folds without warning, and you jolted, involuntarily pushing your hips back to follow the withdrawal of his touch. Another firm slap against your opposite asscheek, a whimper escaping your lips as he scolded you.

“Stay still, bebita. Stop squirming.”

His order briefly brought you back to your first time with Marc, who had requested the same thing, but the words felt heavier when they were uttered by Jake—you knew he wouldn’t hesitate to find a way to make you comply.

When his fingers made contact with your core again, you clenched your muscles, forcing yourself to remain completely motionless, and you were rewarded with the tip of his digit just barely skimming over your clit. You whined at the sensation, but held your position.

Jake was pleased with your cooperation, but you couldn’t help but quake when you felt his tongue sweep through your folds to taste you. The spank he offered was softer, taking pity on you as he leaned forward and fully sank his mouth into your awaiting cunt. You mewled, fingers twisting into the fabric of the sheets beneath you and fisting at them tightly in an effort to keep still.

He was moaning shamelessly into your sex, his method tactless, sloppy and rushed. His movements weren’t practiced and deliberate like Marc’s, nor careful and precise like Steven’s—no, Jake was eating you out like a man starved, greedily mouthing at every part of you and reveling in the sounds that escaped your lips.

His hand lifted and he sank two fingers into your entrance, curling them forward frantically as his mouth latched onto your clit. He was working you to your orgasm quickly, hurriedly, desperate to feel you clamp down around him and cry out his name.

Your thighs were beginning to tremble. He must’ve sensed you were close, because he doubled his efforts, the vibrations from his growling buzzing through your flesh and pushing you over the precipice. On its own accord, your body lurched back towards him, your cunt grinding back against his face as your eyes rolled, your walls contracting around his digits and your juices leaking onto his awaiting tongue.

You felt dizzy, faint, your efforts to hold yourself upright through your climax exhausted you, and when you came down from your intense high, you felt Jake draw himself away from you, slow and intimidating. You felt your pulse spike as you awaited whatever came next. His large hand caressed your ass, gently smoothing over your soft flesh in back-and-forth motions.

“Sabe a miel, bebita. Such a pretty little pussy.”

His touch on your skin halted, and you felt his body lean over your back, his lips coming to brush against the nape of your neck.

“But you didn’t follow my instructions, pobrecita. You need to learn how to listen.”

You cried out when his hand swatted at your abused clit, your body jumping at the painful sensation in an attempt to escape his cruel attack. You felt one arm snake beneath your stomach to hold you upright, his forearm pressing your hips back towards him and keeping you there.

“I let you cum, even after you moved when I told you not to. Do you like being a brat, hm?”

You shook your head—another smack to your cunt, and you whimpered.

“No! No, m’sorry, papi, I—”

“Don’t you think I’ve been generous? Spoiling you? And still, you’re ungrateful, bebita.”

Your body flinched in preparation for the next blow, but instead, you felt his lips tenderly brush a kiss to the flesh of your ass.

“Compórtate. I think I need to teach you how to mind your manners.”

He slapped your ass again, harder than before, and you could feel the lingering sting forming a welt across your skin. He hummed.

“What do you say to papi, hm? For being so good to you?”

“Thank you, papi.”

You whimpered, tears starting to dampen the sheets beneath your face. Your appreciation earned you a soothing hand across the flesh he'd just struck.

“That’s right. Five more times, bebita.”

You sobbed in protest, body trying to pull away from him, but his arm wrapped around your torso forced you into place. He cooed at you.

“It’s okay, pobrecita. You’re going to say thank you after every single one, and then papi will fuck you. ¿Sí?”

He didn’t wait for your response. He smacked your clit, the sting burning its way through your lower belly. You choked back another sob.

“Th—thank you, papi.”

You stuttered, voice barely audible from where your cheek was smushed into the bedding, but Jake took pity on you. Two, three, four more times—the final blow landed sharply against your cunt, and you whimpered out your gratitude, eyes squeezed shut tight and your lip starting to freckle with blood from where you’d held it between your teeth.

He placed gentle kisses on your lower back, your ass, as far as he could reach, his arm still supporting your weight while the other came to softly smooth over your hip. Your mind was cloudy, your body completely surrendering to Jake’s will as you descended into subspace, clinging to his approval.

“You want my cock, mi vida?”

He asked gruffly, and you could feel his hardened length prod against your behind as he leaned further over you to press more kisses on your shoulders. You whined.

“Yes, papi, please, want you inside me, please—”

He shushed you calmly, sitting back to kneel behind you. He lifted your hips higher in the air with his arm, and you felt the flushed head of his cock brush across your soaked folds once, then twice. You mewled.

Without warning, Jake sank into you, bottoming out with one harsh stroke as his balls pressed against your puffy clit. You cried out, legs turning to jelly and giving out from beneath you, but he held you upright, keeping you stable in his arms.

“Mierda. Your little cunt is swallowing me, bebita.”

He withdrew slowly, and you could feel each ridge of his length as he pulled out until just the tip remained. Even though you braced yourself, you couldn’t prepare for the way he slammed back into you, his pelvis flush against your tailbone as you cried, pleasure sparking at the bottom of your spine in spite of the pain.

Jake’s pace was relentless, unforgiving, hips snapping forward over and over, the sound of skin slapping skin drowned out by your pathetic sobbing as your walls throbbed around his member. His teeth were bared as he railed into you, intently watching the place his cock was splitting you open.

“Carajo, you’re squeezing me so tight—going to cum for you, bebita.”

He practically growled as he speared you, and another orgasm was ripped from you with a particularly harsh thrust of his hips. Your cunt clamped down around him as he let out a long, low whine, hips stuttering at the sensation.

He let you collapse into the bed as he began frantically jerking his cock, pulling out of you just in time to shoot his load all across the reddening flesh of your ass. He let out a series of grunts, coupled with Spanglish expletives as he thrusted into his fist, his head thrown back in bliss. You felt globs of his hot spend settle onto your skin, streaking your backside with his seed as he panted above you, falling back onto his heels as he drank in the aftermath of his intense orgasm that was now painting your skin.

The moments that followed blurred together as you drifted aimlessly in the wakes of your pleasure, eyes fluttering in their attempt to keep you awake. Jake left you for several minutes, the absence of his body heat making goosebumps erupt across your skin, but you were too exhausted to move.

When he finally returned, you felt him softly dab the remnants of his ejaculate from your back before he gently shifted you onto your back, tucking an arm beneath your knees and the other around your shoulders as he hoisted you into the air. You whimpered slightly at the soreness in your muscles, your head falling limp against his bare shoulder as he carried you off. You weren’t consciously aware of your surroundings, but the sensation of warm water surrounding you helped ease the ache in your bones and clear the haze that had overtaken your mind. Jake gently lowered you into the bathtub, carefully tilting your head back to rest against the ceramic edge as you let out a relieved sigh, sinking into the welcoming heat of the water.

You felt as if you’d only blinked when you awoke, the water around you now lukewarm and the candle that had been burning beside you melted to the wick. You shifted yourself upward, hissing slightly at the soreness in your thighs, but you forced yourself to stand and exit the tub.

Silence surrounded you as you leaned to pull the plug from the drain before you noticed the plush white towel that had been folded neatly and left on the lid of the toilet for you. You gratefully reached it and wrapped it around your body, noticing the pruning of your fingertips.

How long had you been asleep?

You tentatively creaked open the bathroom door and peered outside into the apartment. It was dark, and empty, for all you could see, and you took a few cautious steps out into the room.

“Jake?”

You said softly, your soft call sounding much too loud in the quiet of the space. You proceeded forward towards the bed, shrouded only in light from the single lamp that was lit from across the way. Your clothes had been folded neatly and left in a pile at the foot of the bed, and you saw a small piece of paper settled on top. A note.

You picked it up and scanned it over once, then twice. You could tell this was Jake’s handwriting—it was a messy scrawl with an evident slant, the letters each written harshly with sharp lines. It was different from Steven’s languid scribbling, his words swirling together with smooth, clean strokes, and also from Marc’s, whose blocky penmanship was unmistakable. You couldn’t marvel at the fact that all three alters had markedly distinct handwriting, though, too focused on the content of the message to give it a second thought.

Went out for a drive Text when you get home See you tomorrow.

JAKE

You frowned slightly, heart feeling heavy in your chest as you forced yourself into your clothes. You checked the time—11:28. You’d conked out for nearly two hours, and you wondered how long ago Jake had stepped out. Was he waiting for your text in order to come back home? Waiting for you to leave so he didn’t have to see you?

You had absolutely no right to be upset, you knew. You should be grateful that he was sticking to his ordinary routine after your sexual encounter in honor of your experiment, but still, a pang of hurt bloomed in your chest. You briefly returned to the bathroom to blow out the flickering lavender candle before heading out the door, your legs wobbly as you trekked the two blocks back to your own apartment.

It was nearly midnight when you finally got home. You reached for your phone and shot the boys a brief message.

made it back safely x

A response came in barely thirty seconds later.

I'm so sorry Y/N He shouldn't have done this to you M

You fell into your bed immediately, eyes skimming Marc’s words, your lips pursing slightly. You let out a long sigh before typing your reply.

it's ok marc, i promise he didn’t do anything wrong i had a nice bath! :) tell jake i said goodnight xx

You connected your phone to the charger before setting it on the nightstand, quickly turning over and sinking into your pillow, trying to ignore the tears that were stinging the back of your eyes.

Your phone buzzed with a final message.

Sleep well baby Hope you give him hell tomorrow M

POINTS OF CONTENTION:

- slowing down

- embracing vulnerability and confiding in others

- accepting intimacy and allowing raw emotion

TREATMENT: - patience, foreplay - allowing himself to feel - aftercare (!)

You were, in fact, not going to give him Hell. Just the opposite, actually.

Jake spent too much of his time letting his demons possess him. Perhaps he needed a little taste of Heaven to show him what he's missing.

“Hi, Jake.”

You greeted shyly when the door swung inward. He leaned against the doorframe slightly, looking at you down the length of his nose. He didn’t say anything—just watched you. Studied you. Observing. After a few brief moments, you cleared your throat.

“Can I—uh, can I come in?”

A beat passed before he finally sidled back into the apartment, opening the door just enough to let you slip inside. Your side brushed against his front when you passed him, and the lingering smell of cigarette smoke clung to his white shirt. Oh, Steven would be livid.

You didn’t wait for an invitation before plopping down on one end of the sofa. Jake quirked a brow at your forwardness, and you signaled with the jerk of your head for him to join you on the other end. He offered a slow, dramatic roll of his eyes before seating himself beside you.

“What time did you get home last night?”

You asked quietly, fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you avoided his gaze. He breathed out a slow breath.

“Not too late. Hardly slept, though—your boyfriend wasn’t very happy with me. Kept me up all night, nagging at me.”

You frowned, finally noticing the deep purplish bags that had settled beneath his eyes. His curls were spilling out from beneath the brim of his flat cap.

“I’m sorry, Jake. Marc isn’t s’posed to be bothering you—it’s your weekend.”

He waved a dismissive hand, turning to settle further into the couch as he stared at some point straight ahead of him.

“No pasa nada. I’m used to it.”

He shifted in his seat slightly, his brows furrowing, and you could tell that he was receiving an earful from Marc.

“I’m—I guess I’m sorry, mi vida, if I upset you.”

You shook your head derisively.

“No, Jake, it’s—you’re fine. That’s what I asked you to do—treat me like any other girl.”

He let out a humorless bark of a laugh, knuckles rubbing over the stubbled skin of his jaw.

“Any other girl wouldn’t have gotten to see my bed, bebita.”

He noticed the perplexed look on your face and offered a sigh.

“It’s not...often, that I sleep with anyone like this. Usually it’s in the back of my cab, or a quick one in a closet—tienes suerte, mi vida. It’s rare they ever see me a second time.”

You felt a deep sadness wash over you at his confession. All Jake knew were rushed, meaningless hookups, no strings attached and no obligations. One and done.

“Is that why you didn’t kiss me, yesterday?”

Jake looked startled by your question, eyes widening marginally as his brows furrowed deeply. His lips set into a straight line, his jaw clenching tightly.

“I did kiss you. A lot.”

He insisted softly. You shook your head.

“No, Jake. A real kiss. You wouldn’t do it. Are—Is that not usually a part of your... you know?”

His knee began anxiously bouncing, his discomfort making itself evident to you.

“No sé. Never really thought about it before.”

You stood from the couch, and his stare followed your movements sharply as you crossed the short distance between you, stepping forward to stand between his spread legs. He looked up at you with dark, brooding eyes, uncertainty churning just beneath the surface. You slowly moved to sit on his lap, your thighs slotting on either side of his hips so you were straddling him. His hands mindlessly settled on your waist, his touch timid and delicate. Your fingers smoothed over his chest as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Can I kiss you, Jake?”

His lips silently parted, a flash of fear briefly flickering over his features as he gazed up at you longingly. His nervousness was palpable, his hesitancy evident through the tension in his shoulders and the crease between his brow. He didn’t offer you a response, so you carefully began leaning your face towards him, tilting your head so your nose brushed against his. You felt his stuttering exhale fan out across your face before you finally let your lips brush over his own.

It was soft, and tentative, as if he was unsure of how to respond or worried he would somehow break you. You pressed your mouth a bit firmer to his, melding against him. You wished, hoped he could feel all your emotions come through the kiss—how much you cared for him, how much you wanted to show him that. Maybe your manifestation worked, because after his few fleeting seconds of unresponsiveness, you felt him sink into the feeling, one arm traveling from your waist up your back to cradle the back of your head in his hand.

He shifted beneath you, trying to pull you closer, as if you weren’t already on top of him. You could feel the stiffness vacate his muscles as the kiss grew feverish, desperate, his lips moving against yours hastily and messily. His free hand began to roam the expanse of your back as he pressed his torso into your own, your nose smushing against his cheek as he gripped you tighter.

He whined when your tongue swiped across the seam of his mouth, his lips immediately parting to allow you access. You dove in to taste him, the stale tobacco and faint mint of his toothpaste overtaking your senses and inebriating you with the distinctive flavor of Jake. His own tongue began to tussle with yours as he mirrored your actions, your teeth clashing messily as he all but tried to swallow you whole.

You pulled back abruptly, gasping in a breath, and his mouth chased yours in a frantic attempt to maintain contact. You felt his hips instinctually rut up against you, his hands still pulling you tightly against his body as he nuzzled into your neck, inhaling the scent of your soft skin.

“Slow down, Jake, take it easy.”

You placed both of your hands on either one of his shoulders and forced him to relax against the couch, his body following your guidance as he sank backwards at your request. His eyes were practically crazed, his lips swollen and ruddy as he looked up at you with a half-lidded gaze, chest heaving with panted breaths.

“Oh, hermosa.”

His muttered, his grip pulling you back to his chest as he surged forward to hungrily meet your lips again, his hands beginning to claw over every inch of your body he could reach, trying to feel all of you. You pushed him away again, more forcefully this time, and he fell backwards with a grunt.

“Hey, relax. It’s okay, I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

A flicker of sadness glinted briefly in his dark eyes, a blink-and-you'll-miss-it expression, but you caught it. You offered him a soft, assuring smile, grabbing the hat from his head and tossing it to the side so you could sink your fingers into his hair. He leaned back into your touch as your nails gently scratched at his scalp, a soft, breathless moan breaking from his lips as his eyes fell shut. You leaned forward and pressed a single kiss to the exposed skin of his throat.

“Come on, handsome.”

He was reluctant to loosen his hold on you, but you reached for his hand and clutched his fingers tightly so he could still feel you touching him somewhere. You led him over to the bed, pausing at the foot of it and gesturing with a nod of your head for him to lay down. He quirked a brow at you, lips curling into a mischievous grin.

“You going to punish me for being so hard on you yesterday, bebita?”

You weren’t oblivious to the excitement that shone in his eyes—he seemed enticed by the possibility of you torturing him in a similar vein to Marc, and you figured that was some information you could keep in your back pocket for future reference.

Instead, you let out a saccharine giggle—it was sickeningly sweet, cloyingly so, and Jake might’ve gotten a toothache from the sugar if it weren’t for the softness with which you crept over his splayed-out body, sinking your front against his as you pressed a featherlight peck on his lips.

“No, Jake. Nothing like that.”

You let your weight settle onto him, straddling his lap and letting your chest fall flush against his as you kissed him again—he mouthed at you hungrily, trying to force his tongue into your mouth, fighting for dominance, and you gently pulled away.

“Hey, tough guy. What’s your rush?”

His brows furrowed, gaze flickering from your eyes and down to your dewy lips, his pupils blown wide. You smiled sweetly at him.

“Slow down, okay? There’s no hurry, really. Let me just feel you.”

He blew out a huff of air before your lips were on his again, and he heeded your request, letting you take the lead as your poured all of your passion into the kiss. It was slow, deep, intimate, your fingers sliding beneath the hem of his shirt and across the hot skin of his torso, pushing the material up as you went. You slowly drew back to discard the article of clothing before immediately latching your mouth to his, slow movements still heavy and dripping with desire. You finally parted his lips with the swipe of your tongue, and you felt his fingers sink into your hair, tilting his head for a better angle with which to lavish you.

You could feel him getting greedier as he pressed his body up into your warmth, hands sliding down the expanse of your back and making a move to rip your shirt from your body. You pulled back suddenly, giving him a warning look.

“Hey. Slow.”

You reminded, and he stuttered out an exhale, his fingers gradually raising your shirt above your head as he tossed it to the side. His eyes ravished your body as his fingers traced along the newly exposed skin of your sides, his touch softly skimming your curves before coming up to cup at your breasts. You smiled sweetly down at him as he pressed a few fervent kisses to your collarbone. His dark eyes found yours, lips parted provocatively as he silently asked for your permission. You nodded gently, and his fingers trembled with restraint as he slowly reached around to unclasp your bra.

It was taking everything within his power not to flip you over and pound into you, but something about the look in your eye—reverent, devoted, loving—he didn’t mind too much.

When your breasts exposed themselves to him, he made a low rumbling noise from the back of his throat, leaning forward to latch onto one of your nipples hastily. You tugged at his hair and he groaned in frustration.

“Jake.”

You warned, and he pressed his face down into your cleavage, his breathing ragged and shallow.

“Mierda, bebita. You like being on top so much, hm? Like being in control of papi?”

You gently pulled at his curls again, forcing his face to lift and look up at you. You regarded him softly, one of your hands coming to delicately trace over his jaw and cheekbone.

“No, honey. None of that, okay?”

His brows furrowed, and you leaned down to press a kiss against the crease between them.

“It’s just you and me. Jake and Y/N.”

He repeated your name back to you in a low murmur, as if saying it for the very first time. Actually, now that you thought about it—maybe it was. Jake had never addressed you by your name before, only used endearments to speak with you.

He seemed puzzled by your suggestion, eyes round and questioning and lost, almost uncomfortable with the proposal of having you call him by his actual name.

“You can be on top if you really want to, Jake.”

You pressed a kiss to his nose, then atop both of his fluttering eyelids, then one in the center of his hairline.

“You just—have to be patient.”

You pressed your forehead against his, letting your eyes drift shut as you took in the soft sound of his breathing, finally settling down and evening out. You felt his head tilt up to meet yours again, and you let him kiss you, his pace steady and deliberate, easing you into a rhythm. His hands slowly crawled up your spine, cradling you close to him as he licked into your mouth, his hips bucking up just slightly when you gently tugged at his lower lip with your teeth. He pulled away, shaking his head at your flirtatious action and giving you a playful glare before mouthing gently at your jawline, down your neck and behind your ear. When you leaned into his touch, he sank his teeth in and suckled a deep red mark into your skin, earning a soft whimper in appreciation. His lips stayed pressed against you as they trailed down the column of your neck, along your collarbone and shoulder, and finally down to the flesh of your breasts.

You breathed out a low moan when he placed wet open-mouthed kisses along the top curves of your chest, slowly teasing lower until his teeth scraped your hardened nipple and his lips puckered around it. His hand came to palm at your other breast, kneading at the doughy flesh as he stared up at you seductively through his lashes.

“Fuck, Jake.”

You whimpered, and the sound of his name rolling so deliciously off of your tongue caused his hips to grind up against you once more. When he was satisfied with the array of red and purple marks he’d imprinted on your skin, he dragged his face back up to your own and pressed his lips to yours once again.

You were impressed with his restraint. You could feel the hardness in his muscles, see the tension in his thick shoulders as he forced himself to take his time instead of jumping your bones from the start. You hummed against his mouth before pulling yourself away and off of his lap, your fingers slowly trailing down the length of his torso before settling on the buckle of his jeans.

His breath stuttered at the action, his abdominal muscles contracting as he awaited your next move. You gently reached down to palm at his bulge through the layers of fabric and he groaned throatily, his eyes fluttering shut at the much needed stimulation. Your fingers deftly worked to unloop his belt before unbuttoning his jeans, and he lifted his hips to assist you in pulling them off of him.

When he was left in just his briefs, you pressed gently against his shoulder to make him lay back down and relax. He sank back into the pillows, propped up so he had a decent view of you between his legs, your fingers teasingly stroking over his length through the thin cotton of his boxers. He hissed.

“Estás una calientapollas. Please, hermosa. Y/N.”

He saw the way your eyes darted to his face at the sound of your name, your lips parting and your fingers ceasing their gentle sweeping motion over his cock. You held his gaze as you slowly reached up towards the waistband of his briefs and coaxed them down his legs, freeing his member that had been straining against the fabric.

After you’d tossed his final undergarment aside, you settled back between Jake's legs, your hands stroking each of his inner thighs softly, watching as he pulled his lip between his teeth. Your left hand slowly, slowly crept upwards until it ghosted over the silky skin of his shaft, his body shuddering in response to your touch. You waited until his eyes were open again, watching you, before leaning forward and letting a pool of your saliva drip from your lips and onto his awaiting cock. He keened at the sight, his hips jerking just slightly as you finally wrapped your hand around the base and began to stroke him at a treacherously slow pace.

“Mierda. Fuck.”

He grunted quietly, trying to keep his hips still as you started to pump him a bit faster, glittering eyes staring up at him reverently. It was dizzying, the way you gazed up at him with such infatuation. It almost made him nauseous.

You slowly leaned down and licked the precum from his leaking slit before letting your lips wrap around the head, swirling your tongue languidly over the tip, watching his face scrunch up in pleasure.

You briefly pulled back to press kisses up along his entire length, coupled with soft caresses of your fingertips. It was clear to you that Jake was beginning to feel frustrated—his hands were buried in his hair, head thrown back against the bed as if attempting to subdue his desires.

You took him back into your mouth, working him slowly over with your tongue and swallowing him down bit by bit, agonizingly slow. You could feel Jake’s thighs tensing around you, his hands flying from his head to fist at the sheets on either side of his body.

When you gagged around his cock, he lost his composure. You made a startled choking sound when you felt his hand against the back of your head, pressing you down onto his length as his hips bucked up to try to sink into your throat. You immediately recoiled, and Jake nearly whined, his eyes desperately pleading with you to grant him some release. You weren’t taking any pleasure in seeing him like this—this wasn’t your end goal.

“You going to edge me like Marc, huh? Want to hear me beg?”

His voice broke off slightly, his frustrations venting through his lips as he almost glared at you. You sat up, moving to straddle his waist once more so you could press your lips to his again.

“No, Jake, I told you, I’m not. I just—Let me take care of you. Wanna show you how much you mean to me, wanna—wanna worship you, wanna make you feel good—”

His brows furrowed as you rambled slightly, your eyes big and round and glassy. He was confused—what exactly was it that you wanted from him?

“Let me fuck you, mi vida—make us both feel good with me inside you, hm?”

“No, Jake, just—hang on, that’s not—”

“Then what? Want to see if I can be as vanilla as your little Steven?”

“I want to make love with you, Jake.”

His breath resembled something of a gasp as his eyebrows shot up nearly to his hairline, disappearing beneath his curls while his eyes widened almost comically at your hasty confession. You cringed inwardly at your forwardness, taking in the expression of sheer panic on Jake’s face that had him looking like a deer in headlights. You sighed, leaning forward to press your forehead into his chest in an attempt to hide your face from view.

“Fuck. Sorry. I just—I don’t want you to feel like you have to rush through this. I’m sorry, I just—I want—want you to enjoy it, want you to let yourself feel it, Jake.”

You could feel his heart pounding against his ribcage, his lack of response smothering you after your fervent explanation. You wanted to disappear, wanted the ground to cave in and swallow you whole—instead, silence consumed you, settling across your back like a weight that you weren’t strong enough to carry.

“That’s...a new one for me.”

His voice was quiet, sheepish, and you could feel the vibrations rumbling in his chest as you lifted your head to look at him.

“I know.”

You acknowledged quietly. He was staring at you. Dark eyes searching within yours, scanning your expression, every detail of your face, as if attempting to see straight through you. Your heart was still pounding, your face rosy with an embarrassed blush—you felt his arms shift, his hand hesitantly lifting, fingers ghosting over the skin right above the waistband of your jeans at your hips, getting about as close as he could to holding you without actually touching you at all.

You’d never seen Jake Lockley at a loss for words before, and you’d certainly never seen him look so unsure. He was always so collected, nonchalant and unfazed, never dropping his guard for more than a second before that smug smirk reappeared on his face. He took things in stride, his confidence stifling as if he was always three steps ahead of the rest of the world, always knowing what came next.

But now there was vulnerability displayed across his slacken face, a certain wariness serrating his words as he spoke.

“I’m sorry, mi vida, but I don’t—”

“You don’t have to apologize, Jake, really, I promise it’s okay.”

You reached up a hand to cradle the side of his face, fingers gliding across the stubble of his jaw as your thumb brushed over his cheek. His head instinctually tilted in the direction of your hold, turning to press a soft kiss to the palm of your hand.

“I’m sorry. This—I don’t know what I was thinking. This isn’t fair to ask of you at all, it wasn’t a part of the deal, and—we can stop here. Let’s—just tell me where you wanna go from here and we can do it. Anything.”

You breathed, looking into his eyes, your brows furrowed in remorse as you anxiously awaited his reply. He was still just looking at you, unwavering, his chest heaving slightly with each brash exhale.

You felt his fingers skate up your bare spine and you straightened at his touch, letting him gently pull you towards him until your noses were brushing again. His gaze never left yours as he drank you in, his lips parting so you could feel his warm breath against yours. After a few more grueling beats, your pulse jumping with anticipation, his closed the gap and kissed you with a tenderness you didn’t know he even possessed. He pulled himself into a sitting position, wrapping his arms around you until they enveloped you completely, your bodies melding together as his tongue traced the seam of your mouth, although he didn’t press any further—just feeling you, tasting you, savoring the sweetness that seemed to course through your veins.

You were breathless when he pulled back, although he only recoiled just enough to speak. You could feel the movement of his lips against your face as his dark eyes burned through you.

“Hermosa, I don’t—I’ve never... Nunca he hecho esto antes.”

You knew what he was saying even if you couldn’t actually understand it. Your eyes crinkled at the corners as you smiled softly at him, sliding your palms over his chest before wrapping your arms tightly around his neck.

“It’s okay, honey. I—we can figure it out together.”

He blinked rapidly at you, and if you didn’t know any better, you might’ve thought there were tears shining across his eyes. But then he was kissing you again, so softly and sincerely that it fucking hurt.

Your body was slotted perfectly against his, flush against the contours of his current position as his hands slid up and down your spine, settling lowly on your back, just above your ass. You could feel his aching arousal pressing into your heat, rubbing against the seam of your jeans as he held you against him. You let his tongue lick inside your mouth greedily before you drew away.

“Can I—Can I keep going?”

You asked softly, grinding your clothed core up against him for emphasis. A breathy whimper fell from his lips as he closed his eyes, resting his forehead against yours for a moment before slowly nodding. You slowly crawled down the length of his body, pressing gentle kisses all the way down until you found yourself settled between his legs once again, not wasting any time in wrapping your hand around his cock and giving him a few gentle strokes. He sank into the mattress, throwing his head back into the pillows as his teeth sank into his bottom lip.

“You’re supposed to enjoy this, okay? But remember, this—this isn’t just about making each other cum, it’s—wanna make you feel good. We’ll take it nice and slow. You tell me when you’re ready to—when you wanna move on, and we will, okay?”

He looked down at you, his eyes still full of doubt and hesitance, but beneath the veneer you could see the warmth of trust shining through. He nodded at you reassuringly, and the soft smile he offered was one you’d never seen from him before—so genuine and credulous that it almost resembled Steven.

Without another word, you leaned forward and let the tip of your tongue trace the driblet of precome that had begun to slide down the length of his shaft. You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, suckling at the flesh as your hand began to stroke him steadily, wrist twisting just slightly to maximize the stimulation.

Jake let you toy with him for awhile, his hands gripping the sheets on either side of him in tight fists while he endured you doting on his throbbing cock.

When you reached to squeeze for his balls, your head sinking a bit lower onto his length, you felt his fingers wrap in your hair and gently coax you off of him, a low growl rumbling in his chest. You immediately ceased your ministrations, staring up at him attentively as he blinked slowly at you, his lip swollen from where he had been biting it.

“Do you—you want me to stop? Wanna—want me to ride you, or—”

He interrupted you with groan, throwing his head back against the pillows and squeezing his eyes shut. You could feel the muscles of his abdomen rippling.

“No, mi vida, it’s alright, whenever—you can stay down there as long as you like, I just—mierda, your mouth is so good to me, hermosa. Worried I’m gonna cum.”

He confessed, a sort of pained expression on his face. You gave him a pitying look—it wasn’t mocking, not at all, but genuine sympathy. You didn’t want to make him miserable.

“Just a little bit longer, okay, honey? I know it’s hard going so slow, I’m sorry, but—but I promise, when you finally let go, it’ll be worth it, okay?”

He smiled meekly at you, nodding as he removed his hand from your hair and returned it to its position tangled in the sheets at his side. You gave him one last reassuring glance before sinking your mouth back down onto his cock and lavishing him with more attention.

For several more minutes, he let you worship him, his hips jolting and cock twitching, although he was displaying great levels of restraint when it came to letting you dictate the speed and pace of your actions. You suckled one of his balls into your mouth, watching as he squirmed, legs kicking just slightly beside you as he mewled, his face scrunched up in pleasure.

You released him with a popping sound, finally satisfied with how you’d worked him up and extolled his cock. You crawled up his body and he eagerly welcomed your proximity, pulling you to his mouth to plant a hard, desperate kiss to your mouth. You smiled into him, fingers nestled in his curls.

“Thank you, Jake, did so well.”

You whispered, pressing gentle kisses to the expanse of his jaw as his chest heaved beneath you. He hummed to acknowledge your praise, although you could feel the tension in his muscles as he impatiently awaited your signal that you could continue.

When your eyes met his, they blinked at him, docile and alluring, and he took that as his cue to roll you onto your back so he could position himself on top of you. He pressed a few kisses to your mouth, as if he was struggling to pull himself away, before his lips traveled down your neck and collarbone, his hands popping the button on your jeans to finally have you bare beneath him. You didn’t protest when he pulled them down off of you, your panties joining them soon after. He leaned up to kiss you again, his rock-hard length dipping into your sopping folds as his body rocked against yours once, then twice, earning a low whimper from your throat.

“Go ahead, honey, I’m ready for you.”

You whispered, voice sweet, and he groaned lowly. However, he surprised you by pressing a soft peck to your cheek before sinking down the length of your body, his mouth trailing a line down the center of your torso before kissing right atop your pubic bone, brown eyes watching you closely. Your breath stuttered as you wrapped your fingers in his hair unconsciously.

“Jake, you’ve waited long enough, you don’t have to—”

“Wanna do this right, Y/N.”

He whispered, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on your clit, causing you to gasp.

“Make me feel so good, hermosa. Promised going slow is worth it—gonna make it worth it for you, too.”

You couldn’t dwell on the fluttering sensation in your chest when his mouth pressed against you, wet tongue meeting your dripping folds with attentiveness—you released a soft cry as he lapped at your entranced, the tip of his tongue prodding at your clit gently, causing you to squirm.

Jake liked to run his mouth, but now, he was silent. It's not that he didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to spur you on with filthy praise—he simply couldn’t find the words. He was absolutely hypnotized by the sight above him, bewitched by the expression of pure, unadulterated euphoria on your face at each ministration he offered. He’d never been witness to such a beautiful view before—any time he’d gone down on someone, watching their nonverbal responses to his touch simply wasn’t his priority. It had always been rushed, forceful, as he ripped orgasm after orgasm from his partner with greed and insatiability. But now—now it was you. He was in between your legs, pulling angelic sounds from your lips as your thighs quaked around his head. You were glowing, radiant, ethereal as you basked in the pleasure, and Jake finally realized why foreplay was so important—seeing you like this might be even better than the real thing.

He heeded your words. He wasn’t trying to make you cum, wasn’t speeding you towards your climax with rapid swipes of his tongue and fingers. He was savoring you, each brush of his mouth against your core was languid and indulgent. His lips puckered around your sensitive bundle of nerves, drawing slow circles around it with his tongue as your fingers fisted tighter into his curls, offering enough of a sting to make him groan around you. His tongue dipped into your entrance, lapping at your dripping arousal, your walls fluttering around his thick muscle as your hips jerked to meet his thrusts, pressing yourself against his face to chase your mounting pleasure.

This was different than the orgasms he’d granted you the day prior—this was a simmering heat, coiling lowly in your stomach, festering and building slowly as he sought out the places that made you squirm. You could feel the intensity spiking, even though his lazy speed remained constant—the way his dark eyes stayed firmly fixated on your face was dragging you closer and closer to the threshold.

“Fuck, Jake, oh God—”

You whined, and his hands slipped beneath your ass, lifting your hips to grant him a better angle at which to devour you. Your thighs were trembling, his tongue beginning to swipe over your clit in rapid side-to-side motions—the change of pace pulled a ragged wail from within you, the muscles of your abdomen squeezing tight. He couldn’t control the shameful rutting of his hips into the mattress beneath him at the sound.

“So close, Jake, yes, fuck—”

You were right on the precipice, stars clouding your vision, but right before you tipped over the edge, you yanked your hips back, lifting Jake's head away from you with your grip on his hair. He jolted, hazy eyes suddenly wide and alert as he sat back, bewildered at your abrupt departure from his lips. You squeezed your eyes shut as your orgasm dissipated, your tense muscles sinking back into the mattress as the coil loosened itself. You breathed out lowly, your lashes fluttering as you opened your arms to pull Jake against you.

“Sorry, honey, I—so good, Jake, fuck, but I—wanna cum on your cock, wanna cum with you.”

A low groan escaped him as he pressed his forehead to yours, eyes blinking closed to stave off the arousal that was singeing his insides.

“You—¿estás lista, mi vida? Are you sure?”

You nodded vigorously, pressing a kiss to his lips, and he let out a slow breath, hands sliding to your sides. Your brows furrowed when he pulled back, gently attempting to roll you onto your stomach. You reached up to grip his shoulders tightly, shaking your head.

“No, no, Jake, I want—wanna see you, wanna be close to you, please.”

There was turmoil churning behind his eyes as he stared down at you, brows furrowed heavily as he fought his internal battle. You realized he’d probably never done it like this before—if the fact that he was afraid to kiss you was any indication, you wouldn’t be surprised to learn that he’d never let himself be caught in such an intimate position.

But then his eyes softened, his hand coming to cradle the side of your face, his thumb pressing up against the swell of your lower lip.

“Okay, hermosa. Por ti hago lo que sea.”

You felt his member slide between your dripping folds, the head of his cock brushing across your clit as he guided it against your center, hearing the way your breath hitched at the feel of him over your bundle of nerves. You felt it notch at your entrance, the tip just barely breaching your folds. Jake cursed lowly under his breath, eyes glued to where his cock was about to sink into you. In spite of your desperation, your hands lifted to rest on either side of his face, forcing his eyes onto you.

“Look at me, honey. Want you to look at me when you split me open.”

“Carajo.”

He muttered, closing his eyes to steel himself before opening them again to stare into yours. You watched his lips part as he pushed into you, unbearably slow, a low moan rumbling through his diaphragm as he sank into you, only stopping when he was fully-seated within your fluttering walls.

The intimacy was stifling him. He felt lightheaded, breathless, his body hovering over yours just barely as he held himself up above you, drinking in your heavenly being—your hair was fanned out on the pillow beneath you, your pink lips slicked with saliva as your gazed up at him with doe-eyes, blinking slowly as your walls clenched around him.

“God, Jake.”

You whispered, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling so he fell against you, chest flush against your own. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, staying still inside of you for a few brief moments in order to just feel the way you surrounded him.

Slowly, carefully, he pulled back his hips, just barely, before pressing back inside of you, your moans echoing in unison as his balls nestled tightly against your ass again. He’d always been so busy chasing his release, relentlessly pounding into you that he hadn’t taken the time to appreciate just how perfectly he filled you, just how perfectly your walls clamped around his pulsing length.

“So good, mi vida.”

He groaned against your neck, repeating the motion of his hips at a more steady pace. Each thrust pressed against your cervix, causing you to whimper.

“Fill me up so nice, Jake, fuck, feels so good.”

He felt your walls clamp around him once more, and he pulled his head back slightly, lifting himself up a bit more so he could increase the breadth of his thrusts.

“Me vas a matar.”

He growled, sucking in a breath through his teeth as one hand came to palm at your breast, his eyes glued to the way the other bounced with each push of his hips forward. His eyes drifted back to the fucked-out expression on your face, your lips parted as you stared up at him, and his hips stuttered just slightly.

God, he was close already.

“Fuck, hermosa, me arruinas.”

You could feel him faltering, a bead of sweat dripping from one of his curls and down onto your chest, sliding between your breasts and down to your stomach. He watched it dribble downward, eyes dazed, his abdomen clenching as he attempted to stave off his impending orgasm.

His hand clumsily wedged between your bodies, fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in crude circles, his arm trembling just slightly. Watching him grow desperate above you was enough to spark the beginnings of your climax. You pulled him down for a bruising kiss, teeth clashing and tongues swirling as you swallowed his incessant groans.

“Wan’ you to cum with me, Jake.”

Your words were drawled, drunk on the way his cock filled you, and you could feel pleasure sparking in the base of your spine. The speed of his fingers on your clit sped up slightly, his hips struggling to maintain their cadence.

“Mierda, hermosa, oh fuck, so tight—can’t, I can’t—”

“Cum inside me, Jake.”

Your words were only a whisper as you skated along the edge of your orgasm, just barely hanging on as you desperately tried to convince Jake to let go. His eyes blew open wide at your words, grunting as his hips continued jacking forward.

“Y/N, shit, don’t—I’ve never—”

“Oh, God, fuck, I’m cumming, Jake, please, please cum with me, fuck—”

He couldn’t have stopped himself even if he tried. The rhythmic pulsing of your walls around his painfully hard cock was harrowing, gripping him so tightly that he couldn’t have pulled out even if he wanted to.

His balls drew up tight as his climax exploded.

“Oh, me vengo—mierda, fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m cumming, shit, shit, shit—”

His eyes rolled back as he nearly collapsed on top of you, his hips pistoning forward again and again as he shot his spend deep into your walls, his cock pulsing. His orgasm seemed to last minutes as his vision blacked out, brain emptying as his awareness only focused on how the pleasure zipped across his skin with each pump of cum that he released and how tightly your walls were squeezing him, milking him for all he was worth. He’d never cum so hard in his life, or so much—his seed was leaking out around his length as his body slowed to a halt, your tired cunt stuffed full of him as his cock spilled one final spurt of warm release, the head of his member settling against your cervix as he stilled, his weight bearing down on you as he went boneless.

Jake was slowly grounded back into reality at the feeling of your fingertips brushing softly across the length of his spine, your other hand buried in his curls from where his face was tucked into your shoulder. He could feel your hot lips pressed against his temple, your breathing steady and even as you regained your bearings. He forced himself to follow your inhalation patterns, attempting to slow the racing of his heart.

As the endorphins flooding his bloodstream began to thin out, his anxieties threatened to consume him once again. He pushed himself up and off of you, groaning at the soreness in his muscles and the exhaustion tingeing the edge of his movements. You could do nothing but watch him as he slowly pulled out of you, and you expected him to leave you as hastily as he had the day before—maybe he would’ve, if not for the way his eyes glued themselves to your exposed center, enthralled by the sight of his cum oozing from your fluttering hole and dripping downwards.

Your hips jumped slightly when you felt his fingers gently sweep over your cunt—his gaze never lifted as he scooped his release from where is was beginning to escape and pushed it back into you, forcing you to keep as much of him inside as you could. His eyes were dark, possessive as he tilted your hips up just slightly in an effort to stop his cum from leaking out of you.

His sudden captivation and obsession with filling you was surprising, a stark contrast from just moments before when he had desperately resisted your pleas to finish inside of you. The ghost of a smile flickered over his lips as he settled you back down, seemingly content with the show. His eyes flickered up to yours, and as soon as your gazes met, you saw the way a shadow crested his features, abruptly throwing up his guard after the unexpected vulnerability he’d just granted you.

Jake walked to the bathroom, letting the door shut behind him with a click. You pulled yourself into a sitting position, sighing as you felt the stickiness between your thighs and settling beneath you. You should clean yourself up, get dressed and head out so that—

The bathroom door swung open again and Jake walked out, a wet washcloth awkwardly held in his left hand. He stood at the end of the bed for a moment, as if unsure of what to do next. His eyes hesitantly found yours.

“Do—I’m—I haven’t done this part before, mi vida.”

He quietly admitted, offering a sheepish shrug of his shoulders. Still, your heart warmed at his efforts.

“Thought—figured I’d try what Marc does, but I don’t—”

“Thank you, Jake, that’s perfect.”

You encouraged softly, and his eyes lit up with your soft praises as he knelt down on the edge of the bed, leaning down to carefully press the cloth to your ruined core. You sucked in a sharp breath, the coldness of the water a foreign sensation in contrast to the heat that was broiling between your legs—Jake recoiled, eyes searching yours widely for direction. You offered him a lopsided grin.

“Sorry, s’just—sensitive.”

You explained, and he nodded, slowly wiping at the arousal that stained your skin. His lips were pursed as he focused on his actions, trying desperately not to hurt you. After awhile, he sighed.

“Would you—do you want Marc? Or Steven?”

Your face fell as he finished cleaning you up, tossing the towel on the floor beside the bed, before facing you, his curls falling across his forehead and into his eyes. You frowned.

“No, Jake—not unless you don’t want to—it’s okay, I can always leave if that’s—”

He let out a humorless, bitter laugh, one hand coming up to stroke at his stubbled jaw as he stared at the ceiling, clearly uncomfortable.

“No sé lo que estoy haciendo.”

You heard him mumble breathlessly, his shoulders sagging with defeat.

“Do you—will you come lay with me, Jake?”

You asked softly, as if you were speaking to a wild animal and were trying desperately not to scare it away. His eyes darted to your face, lips parting to protest, to make up an excuse, but then he shook his head at himself, crawling up towards you and seating himself beside you, his back resting against the headboard. You tentatively leaned into his side, nestling your head against his shoulder. You felt him stiffen beside you slightly, but then his arm moved to wrap around you, pulling you closer against his side.

You felt him release a breath he’d been holding as you lifted a hand to rest on his bare chest, drawing random shapes into the warm skin mindlessly.

“Why did you think I’d want Marc or Steven?”

You asked softly, your eyes watching the movement of your fingers on his chest. His hold on you tightened.

“This—s’not my job. I don’t do things like this.”

You sat upright, turning to face him fully. His eyes were hard as they looked at you.

“What do you mean, not your job?”

His lips pursed.

“You know, hermosa. You’re the doctor, hm? Steven and me, we’re—we both do something for Marc. S’why we’re here. Marc and Steven, they—they get to feel things, know people. I’m—I’m just here to make sure they’re safe, that they don’t get hurt.”

Tears pricked behind your eyes as his words registered in your brain. There was an aching sensation festering in your chest.

“No, Jake, that’s not—that’s not how this works. You’re a person, you have every right to experience things just like they do, you’re—”

“No pasa nada. This is the way things are, hermosa. I know you thought—thought you’d be able to come and figure us out, show us what’s what, but—but I already know who I am, what part I play.”

The dejection in his voice was unmistakable. There was bitterness in his words, resentment. The pain in your chest expanded.

“I protect. That’s what I do. Means I don’t get—I don’t get to have this, mi vida. What happened today—that’t not mine.”

A tear rolled down your cheek, so you turned and sank back into his side, hoping he didn’t catch your display of emotion. In spite of himself, he let you press against him, savoring the feeling of your soft skin against his own.

You were hoping he’d open himself up to you after your intimate tryst, but you obviously misread the situation—his walls had come back up, even stronger and more unwavering than before.

Perhaps he sensed your sadness. You felt him release a long sigh, his muscles going lax as he let his head fall against the headboard.

“Lo siento, hermosa. I—you deserve better than what I can give you.”

Your head turned to gaze up at him, finding his eyes staring straight ahead at a random focal point. You felt your heart crack a bit.

“Stop, Jake, don’t say that. That’s not true, I don’t—”

“It’s okay, mi vida. I appreciate what you tried to do for me today. Significa mucho para mí.”

He swallowed, and when he finally looked down at you, the warmth he’d been unabashedly displaying for you had been replaced by the familiar austere glint that normally resided there.

No. You wouldn’t have it. Not after all of this.

Your hand reached up to cradle his jaw, thumb swiping over the apple of his cheek as you turned his head to face you.

“I know you’ve heard me say it, Jake. To Marc and Steven. This wasn’t—this isn’t just research.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as his eyes flickered down to your lips, and you felt the arm that was wrapped around you tighten its grip again.

“I care about you, a lot—”

“You don’t know me.”

His words were brazen, suddenly harsh, insistent against your admission. Your brows furrowed.

“I’m not—I’m not like the others. I’m—I’m no good, hermosa. You care about Steven, and Marc, but I’m not like them. I don’t feel things like them, I can’t—estás mejor sin mí.”

“Then let me know you, Jake. You’re a part of this system, just as much as Marc and Steven, and you deserve to be happy.”

He didn’t answer you—his jaw rippled at the conviction your tone offered, so certain with yourself. You let out a long sigh, reaching to pull at his arm as you shifted. His brows furrowed, but he let you coax him into a lying position, his head against the pillows as you once again nestled into his side, arms wrapped tightly around his torso as you pressed your front against his side, face squished against his shoulder. You placed a soft kiss to the skin there.

“I’m gonna stay with you tonight, okay, Jake?”

You felt his muscles tense in protest, every fiber of his being telling him to make you leave, to get up and go, but the proximity and warmth of your body was intoxicating. After a few beats, he finally offered a slow nod, his limbs relaxing as he sank into the bed. You reached to pull the duvet over you two, clutching onto him tightly, and even if he refused to hold you back, you could feel the way his body went pliant beneath your touch.

He shouldn’t let you so close. He’d managed to keep his distance before—but with the way your breaths slowed into gentle snores, your hair tickling against his bicep, your comforting heat seeping into his bones—he felt his resolve begin to crack beneath the pressure of your insistent affections.

Jake let himself mold against you, his head tilting to rest against the top of yours as he pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head—he told himself that it was okay, you were sleeping, no one ever had to know just how much you’d softened him, how deeply you’d sunk your perfectly-manicured nails into his flesh—and no one ever had to know just how much he loved it.

For the first time in what felt like ever, Jake Lockley actually slept.

TAGLIST: @kezibear143 @gingermous @josephquinncore @steven-grants-world @am-3-thyst @fanofverymanythings @vaneyvfs @theboggyman-blog @belladri @roserfz27 @nowayhomerry @justanotherkpopstanlol @bagsy-not-it @elles-mind-palace @pimosworld @winterbiip @moonmoonboys @icuminurbutt @spxctorsslxt @fandomqueen74 @freerangesweets @wumpsquill @wordacadabra @lunaleah @hornkneeforbucky @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @sweatyroadcowboyjudge @ronanthesimp @deezisnotreal @avengersinitiative2012 @pri00r @wand-erer5 @bitchotine @cookielovesbook-akie @kingtwhiddleston @manofworm @welcometostayingawake @papillonoirsworld @xsarcasticwriterx @this--is--music @paradox-brody-chase

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

i know you've said before that you don't read the books in order, but are there any that you tend to/like to read next to each other? maybe bc they contrast or have similar themes etc etc etc

Weird take, but: I love the juxtaposition of #22 and #24. There's a book in the middle, of course, and we get a few passing mentions of David in #23. But we don't really see David’s impact on the team until #24.

If you actually think about the plot of #24, it's pretty horrifying. The kids get attacked by an unknown alien species who can detect the morphing cube, knows that they're human, can trap them at flea-size, and poses enough of a threat that they end up temporarily allying with the yeerks to win. But of course, that's not the tone of the book at all - the kids treat these events as no big deal. Marco and Cassie roll their eyes at being kidnapped and threatened with execution. The kids are never scared of the helmacrons, never feel overwhelmed even when in over their heads.

Why? Well, they're jaded. This threat really is nothing to them, after the month they've had. The worst the helmacrons can do is kill them; the threat posed by David and by the yeerks is far worse. It's a great way of showing David’s impact, in a characteristically Animorphs (ridiculous, horrifying) way.

[gladiatorcunt]

idk if ur into this or if I'm the only one who has had a raging popstar/rockstar fantasy for myself ever since I was young so I insert it into as many fanfic scenarios as possible but any thoughts on your modern!coryo with an up and coming independent singer!reader 🫣 bc I have thoughts I imagine theyre still in the phase where they have to be creative with their outfits and have to make/bedazzle some things themselves and coryo is so down bad he's just hunched over something pink with some fabric glue, a stoning tool, and rhinestones all over the place. or or or your your whole setup getting an upgrade bc you once mentioned to him that one of the lights was behaving oddly

I think about this too bc I can sing pretty well but I'm very introverted, so I don't like to do it in front of people, and I just imagine it 💀

Modern!Coryo loves a pet project when it's important to someone he cares about (and he really only cares about you so....). He has momager vibes, but he never directs it towards you. His back hurts from the hours he spends perfecting your costumes (He's working on getting you to let him pay for everything, but baby steps are fine for now), and he hides all the packages he ordered for your state of the art set up so he can surprise you. You won't let him use his connections to jump start your career, but he never stops dropping hints about the producers or record label execs he could arrange meetings with.

He's in the comments of your tiktoks sending death threats to 12-year-olds who say you're cringe. (Your first toxic stan <3) Anthony Fantano gives you less than a 10 and he's ready to jump him. He'll be unironically saying you've made the song of the summer, and the spring, and the fall, and the winter. Your top listener on spotify and he's like that video of louis partridge at olivia rodrigo's concert putting his cup in his mouth so he could take videos/pictures of her. Has instagram highlights dedicated to your career (reposting your content, gig videos/pictures, promo stuff, etc.)

Given the fact that he comes from a family with dark secrets and is involved in the political industry, he knows how seedy the entertainment business is. A part of him wants to keep you relatively unknown, you'd be safer that way. But you seem so happy, he supposes he can let you grow. He's breathing down your neck every second though, gets you a whole crew of bodyguards even when you're only playing small venues. He runs your official social media like it's the military, but he's so sweet when he's presenting you with a fruit basket, those expensive boxes of roses that cost hundreds of dollars, and a custom-made award when you finish a small gig and joke about one day making it to the grammys.

[running-with-the-feels]

Fujin:(talking to sonya) I truly am sorry about your base general blade.

Sonya: Honey, that thing was horrendous and I'm glad it's gone bc now I get a new one

Fujin: Pardon?

Sonya: The government doesn't fund our organization very well bc they don't see the threat of invasion from other realms as an actual threat, with the excuse that the Wu Shi, Shirai Ryu, and Lin Kuei are handling it.

Fujin: Wait, really?

Sonya: Yup. In reality, the politicians just hate that when we go to war it doesn't serve them at all. They can't really make a common enemy out of a nation that doesn't exist on this planet

Fujin: But....But the Netherrealm War?

Sonya: Apparently half of the US thinks it was a mass hallucination and the other half thinks that it was a normal invasion with normal people, not demons

Fujin: There's footage!

Sonya: Which can be doctored. Look, nobody wants to believe that something that big, scary, and unknown is real, so they don't believe. That's it. End of story.

Fujin: So you don't get funding

Sonya: Nope, but with the base destroyed, they do have to give me a new one in order to get us out of their way, so I still win

[carpooling-the-internet]

Star Trek fanfic recs

A long list of some of my all time favorite Star Trek fics. Not in any order. I just combed through my ao3 bookmarks for fics that still resonate with me and really blew me away. I will try to tag the authors if I can find blogs for them. If you know an authors blog I haven’t tagged, please tag them!

I dont have the spoons to write lil reviews for each fic bc theres toooooo many but maybe I’ll come back and edit some in sometime.

And eventually I’m gonna make a list like this for Sherlock Holmes and a few other fandoms. Also want to make one specific to podfics. We’ll see what happens first! This took me way longer than I thought it would…

Recs below the cut!

Star Trek TOS and AOS

The Thousandth Man (56187 words) by Ophelia_j In the wake of pon farr, the events on Vulcan are weighing heavy on Spock and his Captain. But will their attempt to fix the problem only make things worse?

The effect of sucrose on Vulcans (2290 words) by Ophelia_j After a successful diplomatic mission, Jim begins to suspect there's something wrong with Spock. Some Old Married Spirk Fluff for the 2019 OMS Challenge, for the awesome plaidshirtjimkirk.

The Eleventh Hour (8551 words) by Ophelia_j During a joint lecture at the Academy, Spock senses that Kirk is growing tired of the secrecy around their relationship and takes steps to resolve the matter.

A Crazy Little Thing Called Love (14940 words) by VTsuion The development of Kirk and Spock's relationship over the course of The Original Series, told in a series of off-screen moments.

The World Turned Upside Down (24777 words) by Jenna Hilary Sinclair On a planet torn by civil war, Kirk must battle insurgents, a Vulcan Healer, and his own heartbreak to find his way to Spock.

The Ren shat'var Trilogy (184,403 words) by CateAdams A split-second decision changes Jim's life forever, as he enters into a bond with Spock in the face of certain torture. Enemies to the Federation emerge from unlikely places, and the command team must contend with unexpected threats, as well as challenges within their own intense relationship. In this three-part series, the Enterprise races across the galaxy to confront the unknown, and Jim and Spock discover the true significance of their unprecedented connection.

First, Best Destiny - Parts One and Two (387733 words) by Ophelia_j A novel-length retelling of original Star Trek canon through the lens of one of the greatest relationships ever committed to film. Using missing scenes, episode tags, and original story-telling. Ultimately a Generations fix-it.

All the Time in the World (27856 words) by LSPINGLES The death of Edith Keeler affects Kirk and Spock in different ways. Spock invites Kirk to come with him to Vulcan to heal. Along the way the learn something about their feelings for each other.

Spice (276553 words) by eimeo It’s a question of biology. Vulcan biology. The problem with falling in love with a member of an insanely private species is that it just might take you the best part of a five year mission to work out that the feelings are requited. And then you might discover that he’s already decided that the two of you can never be together. And what are you supposed to do if he won’t tell you why?

Fulfilling the Needs of the One (Or the Both) (8741 words) by plaidshirtjimkirk Spock begins to wonder if his relationship with Jim has been one-sided in his own favor.

Touch Upon the Wonders that You See (4071 words) by waldorph Sarek does not always understand his son, but that does not mean he does not love him.

Entering Orbit (30957 words) by museaway Jim escapes to Iowa to avoid the media frenzy following the Narada incident, but a late-night miscommunication results in Spock turning up on his front porch.

Something Smart to Do (21322 words) by kianspo In which Jim finds himself fake-married to his first officer every other month. It's not his fault. Mostly. Dowries and Klingons are involved. Starfleet is decidedly not amused.

Don't Stop Believing (205901 words) by kianspo The story follows Spock from his own days as a cadet at Starfleet Academy to the ‘present day’ when he’s Kirk’s first officer and the Enterprise is on its five-year mission. Essentially, the story of Spock’s first real love followed by the story of him finding the love of his life. Ad astra per aspera.

And Then I Let It Go (10632 words) by kianspo Post-Star Trek Beyond. The crew of the Enterprise gets a breather while they are waiting for their new ship. Jim uses the time to do something he had sworn he would never do.

The Lotus Eaters (93594 words) by aldora89 Stranded on the planet Sigma Nox while searching for a missing away team, Spock and Kirk find themselves pitted against a disturbing native life form. With the captain out of commission on a regular basis and Spock struggling to preserve his stoicism, staying alive is difficult enough – but when a slim chance for escape surfaces, their resolve is truly put to the test. Together they must fight for survival in the heart of an alien jungle, and in the process, uncover the mystery of the planet’s past. Slow build K/S.

Atlas (135529 words) by distractedKat Between what was and what will be stands James Tiberius Kirk, in all his fractured patchwork glory. Because saving the Federation was only the beginning. A novel-length continuation of the 2009 movie told in four parts. Cross-posted from FFN. PODFIC AVAILABLE! https://archiveofourown.org/works/652116/chapters/1187249

The Word Withheld (12032 words) by j_s_cavalcante After retrieving Kirk from the interspatial rift of "The Tholian Web," Spock realizes his oath to Starfleet and his service aboard the Enterprise are in jeopardy because he has denied to himself—and withheld from Kirk—a certain truth about the nature of the Vulcan relationship called "t’hy’la."

this is what happens when you save earth, apparently (5454 words) by WerewolvesAreReal “So, why haven't you settled down with some lucky lady yet?” the interviewer asks. Maybe it's the blinding set-lights, or the fact that he hasn't slept in thirty-five hours. But for some reason Kirk blurts, “Honestly, they all end up getting jealous of Spock.”

Four times the Enterprise Crew didn´t realize that their commanding officers were married to each other and one time they finally found out (4130 words) by razzleberryicedtea In which Spock and Jim casually forget to mention that they are married, and the Enterprise crew is too oblivious to notice on their own

A Star to Steer By (32043 words) by Borealisblue Kidnapped, injured, and headed towards Romulan space, Kirk could only be grateful that his last act was saving Spock from the same fate. And all it had cost was a stolen kiss.

An Open Secret (3495 words) by TransScribe Amanda Grayson knew her son. She could read him, easily. That might've been why she had suspicions about his relationship long before he said anything. It was more likely because subtlety was not a trait Spock had inherited.

the book of love (7297 words) by miss_frankenstein When yet another away mission goes awry, Jim and Spock are left stranded on a hostile planet with nothing to do but talk. What follows is a conversation about art and literature, life and death, love and friendship.

Take My Hand (My Whole Life Too) (5981 words) by pastmydancingdays Whilst in one of the most dangerous situations of his life, Jim Kirk came to a realisation that he should have had a very long time ago. Two, in fact, and he was about to let neither go to waste. A potential epilogue to Amok Time.

Ashayam (3378 words) by Willowe Spock knows he has no right to refer to Jim as any sort of endearment, even in the privacy of his own thoughts. If he had only listened to this logic he wouldn't find himself in this position, standing on the bridge having just called his captain "ashayam".

@ophelia-j

@razzleberryicedtea

@vtsuion

@plaidshirtjimkirk

@cate-adams

@pastmydancingdays

@werewolves-are-real

@eimeo-blog

@aldora89-blog

@museaway

@kianspo

@lspingles

@waldorph

@miss-frankenstein

[obsidianstrawberrymilk]

Random bsd theories

Finished 113 and uh. Uh

The member of the Agency who's gonna get transferred to the PM will probably be Tanizaki, or Yosano. I know there was that whole deal Mori and Fukuzawa made but there's no reason for Mori to keep it, and Yosano being forced to work with the man who caused her trauma would be a very interesting arc. That said it's also been noted multiple times Tanizaki would make a good assassin and Asagiri flat out said he's the member of the ADA closest to evil, sooo-

Gin Akutagawa is going to get Rashoumon if Akutagawa is actually dead. I don't know if he is even after the vampirism but I think he should be, because it would finally give some stakes to this series bc no one has died before and it would make Fyodor as a threat matter. Anyway I think it would make sense if Gin were to get it, especially considering with Tachihara's current unknown state that's another reason to get her more involved with the plot.

Fyodor's not actually dead. There's no way he's been built up over the past 2/3 arcs to die like THAT.

Aya has an ability. What it is, I'm not sure, I know her irl author's most famous work is Nagareru, which I have not read, so maybe something to do with that?

Also, Higuchi is going to become important soon. Asagiri has confirmed she has an ability - I'm betting we're going to find out what it is soon. Especially if Akutagawa is actually dead, which again I think he is because otherwise all the buildup was wasted, I think she's gonna get an arc of her own soon.

Dazai is going to be forced to develop and it won't be pretty. I've seen notes that he's kinda regressing back into his 'Demon Prodigy mindset' from the healthier one he developed with the ADA in the earlier arcs, before Mori released Q, in order to protect himself and the ADA from threats like Fyodor - so he's been more willing to sacrifice people or colder with his plans. In order to get out of that spiral something is going to need to snap him out of it.

Oh speaking of that - Dazai is either the son or grandson of the Old Boss of the Port Mafia from before Mori took over. Explains why he was implied to have known the old boss, and why his ability is basically an anti-ability, if he was constantly around someone so unstable and had to protect himself.

The Order of the Clocktower are going to become new antagonists with Agatha Christie also playing a role. We already know she exists in the BSD verse and the potential for a character based on her as a villain is insane. I'm also thinking she could potentially be the actual 5th member of the Decay of Angels, considering Sigma has existed for all of 3 years and spent a lot of that time actively being human trafficked, yet the organization was clearly prominent for years before that.

[mako-neexu]

“Will this story get a happy ending?” its a merguda doujin by amazekekanro.

 one day gudako asks merlin to watch a horror movie with her to overcome her fears to be a good master by the suggestion of shincha. and a good master, in her opinion, is one who makes calm and rational decisions on the fly.

and when that doesnt work, they go to tamamo where they do the “one hundred ghost stories”, a game that people play at night to tell... well, horror stories. anyways, its a test of courage! so from okita, nobu, ryouma, oryou-san, tamamo, and merlin, they blow on the candles after each story told as per tradition

it goes on until its tamamo’s turn again. (im not sure if they reached 99th or so but its her turn when things start going down)

“There are many strange things in this world,” She says, face grave before the candlelight, “Each has a different trigger for it to begin.”

“That also includes us Servants, mysterious phenomena like ghosts, apparitions,” Tamamo pauses, holds her breath, turns to look at Ritsuka and points at her, who now frozen in shock.

“And living spirits.”

Confusion paints the girl’s face before Tamamo clarified, “In order for spirits to materialize, it must have a vessel they can occupy (yorishiro).”

She continues as Gudako’s dread deepens, “And it goes without saying that people (living spirits) are good vessels for souls and apparitions.”

Then Tamamo jokes a little and reassures her, before saying: “I truly wonder where your fear comes from?”

“Wait,” Gudako staggers, something behind her moving, “What do you mea-”

Then we get this:

“The manifestation of Fujimaru Ritsuka’s fear.”

So apparently by scaring her with the stories, her fear/terror becomes stronger until its become a living spirit... and it turns into that. but the goal is for ritsuka to accept her fear

The servants are alarmed, panicked, but when they turn to Ritsuka...

She smiles.

She just, smiles.

“Ah, it’s just another big enemy.”

She smiles and stands as the rest are stunned, “Okita-san,” Her face couldn’t be seen, but she stands as if there was no looming threat over her, “Cut it down.”

The others hesitate and Merlin protests, “Accepting and cutting are two different things! If you do that--!!”

Ritsuka cuts him off with a smile, “It’s okay. I don’t need fear or emotions.”

Her reassuring smile gives Merlin a kind of dread in his stomach he can’t begin to fathom. “After all, even Merlin agrees.” 

(forgot to say but earlier in the story they talk about getting used to all the horrors and unknown that you can’t help but go “ah, okay. it’s that kind of thing.” nonchalantly. because ritsuka wants to know how merlin isn’t scared even after watching a horror movie with her)

next (translated bc ughh its chilling) pages are these:

‘command’ for command spell was cut im so sorry i scanned this in an awkward angle...

Afterwards, we see Merlin feeling guilty about what happened, bc he thinks he influenced ritsuka... immediately thinking of artoria’s fate, the similar person who also cut her emotions down and led her to her end. the doujin ends in merlin being afraid and wondering if her path will lead her to a happy ending... or a blessed one

[autumnaaltonen]

RE ALUCARD REQUESTS okay okay hear me out: Alucard escorting a human Reader to a spooky fancy vampire ball or some shit and the fact that they'll be the only human there is freaking them out bc hi hello they don't want to get eaten or worse and Alucard responds by getting POSSESSIVE.....

We 'bout to get GLITZY up in here. Making Reader androgynous here, but there isn't too much to hint either way. Enjoy!

Rating: M

Warnings: General Alucard-esc violence.

When Alucard first asked to bring you on one of his annual visits to what can only be described as Vampiric NATO, you were extremely hesitant.

He assures you that Integra has attended with him many times over the years before meeting you, and that she was able to handle herself just fine. But you reason, "THAT'S INTEGRA."

The powerful she/they were the living authority on whether every vamp in that vicinity would continue their unlife or be blown to smithereens by her loyal servant.

You were human too, but Alucard was not your weapon, he was your lover.

Alucard reasons that this very fact makes you even more of a threat to his fellow freaks, as his having not courted a human for centuries made you a very rare and invaluable asset. He assures you that he will keep you safe, and who could say no to that handsome face? So you cave.

When you reach the castle of unknown European territory, Alucard morphs partially into his Vladcard form, wearing his ornate armour, cape, and fantastic sword, but keeping his modern facial features and hair.

In order to match, he dresses you in the finest garments of his mortal Romanian era, adorning you with jewels and holy relics from the Hellsing archives that only the most elite Vatican members could ever hope of even viewing.

It doesn't make you as intimidating as Integra, but it definitely sends a clear message that you were OFF LIMITS to any unholy creature unable to withstand the very essence of God that grazed your skin in the form of blessed silver and religious symbolage.

In Alucard's eyes, you were already royalty, worthy to stand by the side of the No-Life King and former Voivode of Romania, but your current visage only cemented that fact.

When he finally sees you after you return from your dressing room, the man literally fans to one knee, taking your ringed fingers in his own, kissing your knuckles lightly.

"Your Majesty," he smiles. You laugh at his theatrics, before realizing he was entirely serious. That fact makes your very knees tremble in affection, before you throw your arms around his neck and pepper his pale face with kisses, which he happily returns.

When Vlad Alucard leads you into the ballroom, he loops his arm around your lower waist, keeping you pressed close to his side.

Obviously night out, the ballroom was lit with candles and moonlight, the stars twinkling brightly outside tall floor to ceiling windows. The floor was a pearl marble, walls decked out in golden wallpaper and detailed paintings of a bygone era. An orchestra of familiars plays exquisite classical music, perfect for dancing.

There must have been at least 200 people—no, vampires. All of them dressed to the nines in a variety of fashions, jewellery and weaponry.

The shine of swords, daggers and even guns adorning hips makes you stiffen, to which Alucard gently strokes your back in reassurance.

He leads you along as he greets and socializes with his kin. You notice that every time you approach a new group, they deeply bow towards Alucard, a gesture he does not return. Rather, giving a small nod in acknowledgement

Of course, he was the big dog. Why were you even surprised?

He introduces you by name, before adding the title of his "most treasured jewel and precious love." It makes you flush like crazy, not only from the love that fills your chest, but the surprised stares you earn from the immortal guests.

You were human, but you were far from stupid. You saw the blood thirst in their eyes, hidden behind polite smiles and welcomes.

Alucard was no fool either, taking the time to stroke your hair, caress your neck, and kiss your lips between every moment in-between pleasantries. He made you feel appreciated, but you also felt the stares burning into the back of your head.

Two vampires in particular had caught your attention, who you have been informed as a former Duke of France, and a German Knight of the Protestant Reformation.

The Duke and Knight spy on you and your lover for then entire night, exchanging whispered words and occasional glances that meet your mortal eyes, which they return with a smirk and a lick of their fangs. You attempt to keep your gaze on your King, but the burn of their ruby eyes never leave you.

Alucard eventually notices your anxiety, of which you've tried to hide as best you can, so he may enjoy himself, but he knows you inside and out, and pulls you to the side of the ballroom to inquire of your sudden change in mood.

When you finally admit to him of the Duke and Knight's thirsty stares on your visage, his caring eyes instantly turn furious and rageful.

You quickly take his face into your hands, reassuring Alucard that you know you are safe by his side, but he's having none of it.

Someone dares to look upon his love without his permission? To make them fearful with lustful gazes and belittle their status as his partner?

Oh hell no.

Alucard removes your hands from his face, kissing both of your palms with delicacy light as a feather, before leading you to a Princess he introduced to you earlier, a beautiful vampiress, and one of the few in the castle who offered you a genuine welcome. He leaves you by her side, requesting her watch of you (of which she obviously obeys) before he storms across the ballroom and towards the twinned source of unease.

She whispers in your ear, asking what has stirred the King so? You admit that he's about to cause a ruckus, which she smiles at fervently.

You hear the distinctive 'shink' of a sword being unsheathed, Alucard wielding his weapon casually in one hand as he stands in the center of the dance floor. The music stops, and everyone becomes silent.

Alucard's voice booms across the room, echoing off of the walls, he calls upon the Duke and Knight by name, daring them to approach.

They do so, bowing before Alucard with wide eyes, fully aware of the mistake they have made. As they rise, the Knight dares another tested look in your direction, to which you turn your head into the shoulder of the Princess.

The sound of flesh being separated and torn ripples in the air, Alucard grabbing the Knight by the throat and digging the tip of his blade into both of the vampire's eyes. He screams in pain, writhing in Alucard's grasp. The Duke takes a step back in fear, before Alucard raises his long sword towards the coward's throat.

"Let this be a lesson for all those foolish enough to gaze at my jewel with thirsty eyes. Any who dare challenge their authority here will answer to the steel of my blade, or the silver of my gun."

You realize he means this quite literally, as he forces the two vampires to choose their fate: either a beheading by sword, or a blessed bullet between the eyes.

Quite the party indeed, especially when Alucard ravages you the following morning for all in the castle to hear.

[laurancezvahlslefteyebrow]

Thank you for answering and do you have any ideas on Cadenza as an Aunt ? Oh also have you changed for added anything to the world building of MCD in your rewrite ?

Oh Cadenza would absolutely LOVE being an aunt. She’d be as involved as possible, offering to help out or babysit whenever she’s actually available. You just KNOW she adores those little girls. She calls Garnet (I took Lilith out of her name bc it felt weird) anyway she calls Garnet “Netty” which eventually catches on, and she calls Lina “Cricket” or “Bug”, as well as calling the girls every other affectionate nickname under the sun. I see her finding time to make them dresses and doing their hair. I can also see the girls calling her Aunite Denza and Aunt Caddy.

As for the world building.. oh boy don’t even get me started. So in case you don’t know, I have a few OCs, the main one being Eseryt Yrva, Cadenza’s bio younger sister. The two are from the village of Zerimar, which was best known for being the third largest village in Ru’Aun, absolutely filled with magicks users, AND right next to O’khasis. Garte saw them as a major threat and ordered it to be completely destroyed. Cadenza and Eseryt lost eachother in the chaos. Cad was found and taken in by Hayden Zvahl and Eseryt was found and taken in by a werewolf named Björn Larson. Cadenza was 11 and Es was 5.

Björn had just been run out of Nahakra for being a werewolf and was on his way to the village of Barton when he came across a burning Zerimar.

Barton is a small village located in a valley completely surrounded by mountains. It’s a safe haven and welcomes people of all shape and size unbiasedly. Most people however, don’t even believe it exists. It’s nearly impossible to find without a map. It’s usually a very busy place, with travelers, adventurers, merchants, refugees, wanderers, etc etc.

As for what the cultures are like in these two villages: Zerimar is loosely inspired by Slovak cultures and Barton is inspired by Appalachian culture.

Other major ish things I’ve included world building wise is the fact that Gal’Ruk is composed mostly of a series of small islands and is inspired by Norse culture, while Tu’La is the largest region that we know of, and is inspired by many different Asian cultures. I also added a new region to the north of Ru’Aun called Conduit. It houses some very powerful magicks for an unknown reason and is the home to the Phoenix Alliance Island.

I could literally go on about the world of my rewrite and my OCs (of which there are many) for hours

but i won’t

for the sake of your sanity

[rysmaonthemic]

Shiguang dai li ren/Link Click thoughts

Spoiler season 2

I needed to take a deep breath after watching the last episode of season 2. Too many questions, too many theories: my head was and is at full speed. The whole season was hell of a ride, September 22th has to be a national holiday for Shuguang dai li ren fans 😭 (yes I’m a drama queen)

Establishing strict rules that should never be crossed otherwise terrible consequences would occur, the cliffhanger of saison 1 open the door to a large amount of questions. Thus, season 2 begins with a promise of trials and tribulations.

Through out the episodes we are the witness of massive ups and downs with a frenetic rhythm: it’s an absolute emotional roller coster for the viewers 😭. The unbearable tension reached its peak when we found out Lu guang is from the futur and he’s trying to change the past at all cost.

At the last minutes of episode 12 when we see the blood on his shirt, I don’t think it’s after being stab in S1 (he wouldn’t be so calm) it means it’s directly after Cheng Xiaoshi death in his real timeline ( bro didn’t even try to live 00.3s without CSX😭)

Despite of everything LG taught us, he broke the rules. We were aware of the rules through LG statement but now that we know he is an unreliable character maybe those rules aren’t completely true? For example the 12 hours rules (if so why would he lie to CSX?)

LG was also a time traveler: since when did he has the power?

He either had it before the new timeline - I don’t think so- or he gain it when CSX die in his arms. (Which imply futur-LG no longer has CSX power in the new time line). I think it’s the second solution.

We see LG going back to the past, is it the only time he did so? If not, how many time did he uses it?

To my mind he only used it one time. The way he feels guilty when he did it shows that it’s not something he is used to do.

What’s in the picture ?

I think he went back in time either at his first encounter with CSX or at the overseas trip : either way the LG we have known since S1 has to be LG from the futur.

We will learn more this overseas trip in s3 for sure (as well as CSX and LG past, I imagine a lot of flash back in s3)

Qiao Ling acquired Li Tianxi’s ability then how is she gonna use it ?How would she confront LG about it?

I think she would be chocked with a lot of empathy and understanding toward LG. She might combine her ability with LG in order to prevent CSX death…

Liu Xiao is clearly a new threat alongside Li Tianchen : Does he has power too? Is he kind of a time line agent or something ?😩 Will he combine his supposed power with Li Tianchen ? Now that he lost his sister and left his phone on the bench I think he has nothing to lose.

Moreover, how will CSX react to his non-death news ?

I feel like LG wouldn’t admit his act directly to CSX and CSX is going to found out through someone else. Will he be :

- Furious at LG (he prevent him from saving the village whereas CSX was deeply affected by it)

- Enraged at LG but accept his destiny

- Mad at LG but try to help LG to save himself

Whatever the answer above, I think CSX will be extremely angry at LG and his impulsivity might put him even more in danger.

LG is clearly willing to do everything and anything for CSX’s sake. However, all the event in S2 (twins etc + him being stab) is unknown to him bc it didn’t happen in his original time line. Lu Guang said something like “event seems to be changing ”

What if, at the very end, he goes back (one last time) to a past where he didn’t even meet CSX? If saving him means to never met him in the first place I think he would.

(Without LG in CSX’s life everything we saw wouldn’t happen ..?) (it’s super sad tho💀)

Whatever the end of it, LG might sacrifice himself for the life of CSX.

All in all, Lu guang is gay, we must protect CSX, QL is an adorable bad ass and we’re all going to suffer.

One last straw: LG keeps the date of CSX death as his phone password the same way Edouard Elric kept the date of his mother death on his watch. They both keep it as a reminder of their goal and the lost of their love ones 😃🔫

PS: I need to watch S1 again as well as S2

[scarlettaagni]

I just have a lot of thoughts about what Psyphon (Vilgax’s assistant) from Ben 10 could have been, if taken seriously. In UAF he’s serious but barely paid attention to and even without Vilgax is elaborated upon very little, OV he has more attention but is comic relief. I just wanna picture what could have been maybe, if he were in line with the original series tone

since Psyphon’s species is unknown, never elaborated upon, and he’s the only member we see, I like to think he had a terrible life on his planet, so Vilgax destroying it basically freed him so he threw himself at Vilgax’s feet and felt personally indebted to him after proving himself useful with whatever abilities he has. He idolizes this guy because, in his eyes, Vilgax just freed him from a shitty life on his shitty planet and now he has nice clothes, technology, minions of their own, and weapons, and how dare anyone not see how glorious and fearsome his savior is?

picturing him just drifting away from his work he was always forced to do to watch, as if with mild curiosity surprised, the destruction around him, then maybe a smile. Someone who treated him like shit fighting off a drone and yelling at Psyphon to help, he instead shoots them; Psyphon being the one guy to actually do what Vilgax says at the epicenter of the invasion without hesitation when he orders shit like “kneel”

Psyphon’s there when Vilgax destroys Petropia in front of Tetrax, and his response to Tetrax’s devastation is like “Why are you upset, surely it was obvious he would use that crystal on your world as a display of strength? Did you even like that place? Aren’t you happy to be free like me?” and general Psyphon interpreting situations like that as ungratefulness (I imagine that would make specifically Tetrax spiral a bit bc. all he did was cause a lot of trouble on Petropia. He acted like a loner, now he is a loner.)

Vilgax isn’t even exceptionally nice to Psyphon, it’s your typical evil boss and evil lackey relationship, but it’s legit better than his deal on his own planet, he treats him as a higher-up, like a general. or general assistant. A professional employee-boss relationship if they committed war crimes together.

The dramatic/sinister threats of destruction or being thrown out of airlocks from Vilgax when Psyphon fails is fine to him because he knows Vilgax is right to expect better of him. I think he’s just grateful, thankful. He was saved and becoming his minion is the least he can do, or that he feels he owes him for such a favor/honor. Especially with how much forgiveness his master shows him, allowing multiple screw-ups because Psyphon is just that valuable to him.

Maybe it’s out of a duty so he can show everyone what good Vilgax can do, but I don’t imagine him like those Tick Worshippers, singing praises, or being such a suck-up that he’s constantly complimenting him or anything. I picture he’s a snippy managerial type, this is just his recruitment backstory, not his entire personality in the day-to-day. He doesn’t need to sing it, is just content to work for him, snaps at others to show respect when they’re slacking on it though.

misc. thoughts:

just as an aside, as a pun on scylax (Greek for puppy) I decided just now that maybe Psylax was his nickname or original name before becoming known as Psyphon. because he used to be everyone’s bitch, work dog, etc, you feel?

I like to imagine that since Psyphon and that lackey drone (may be multiple interchangeable drones, not a reoccurring individual) who is always by Vilgax in the OS are both voiced by Dee, that Psyphon has actually been there the whole time just in drone-shaped armor (they even both have head protrusions. just shift it down and there u go)

maybe Psyphon voluntarily disguised himself so he wouldn’t cramp Vilgax’s “all organic life fears him” reputation. Vilgax didn’t ask him to, because do you think Cthulhu-Face would care? Psyphon just assumed

Just for funsies, maybe he’s related to Fixit from Teen Titans 2003. He was quite alien underneath the cloak. They could be literally related or just the same species?

[luescris]

OTHER SIDE.

WARNING: This fic will have depictions of horror (slight death but no major characters, injuries, eldritch entities), slight reality triggers (forget what it's called augh) and angst. Read at your own risk.

With that being said, have this slightly self indulgent TMNT 2012/Backrooms fanfiction you all asked for. :) If there is any form of critique you all can give me (on character interaction, pacing, or just comments in general), it'd be much appreciated if you could send it through asks!! And title names for the fic too bc the one I have now is a work in progress and I'm not sure if I like it very much fhfhfh Also, it starts with Leo, but I PROMISE it won't be Leo centric. He's just my favorite that's all HDHDHDHDH

This chapter starts off a little meh, but the next ones will get better, I promise. :D Enjoy the angsty suspense!!!!

aaaaa also @misteria247 and @endless-exhaustion tagging just in case since y'all wanna read it or something i hope y'all don't mind Zhfhdhdhdhh

LEVEL 0: ENTER.

Reality. Definition:

The state of things as they exist.

Or, the state of things people believe they think is existence. Ideals that are simplistic, that "make sense" in the collective eyes of many. Science, experiments, simple opinions; all attempts to prove that what they see, what they believe, is right. And the lengths humans go to prove their stories can be.. Exaggerated, at best.

But there are many "proofs" out there. Of gods. Of other alien beings. But none of it truly connects. None of it forms a singular path to the answer.

And maybe it never will.

So then the question now becomes: what truly is reality? If it has yet to be shown, then does any of these ideals really matter? And if this is not the reality that we seek…

Then what is??

—---•••••••••_______

A year had passed since the defeat of Kavaxas. There was silence from the streets, at least about as silent as you could get when it came to New York City. The only thing that had been "exciting" in that time was the Purple Dragon's feeble attempts at stealing and plundering unsuspecting stores.

Of course, the attempts never turned out to be successful. And there was one group of mutant turtles to thank for that.

It was also thanks to them that the streets were so quiet for so long in the first place. No one else had attempted–nor wanted–to take Shredder's place on the "throne" left vacant since his death, and the Turtles had made sure to keep it that way for as long as possible.

But alas, the peace could never truly last.

A new band of gangs calling themselves Black Rose had sprung up about a month ago, causing unexpected chaos. These newcomers were definitely more efficient than the Purple Dragon's, both in skill and further in numbers. The plans were more intricate, thought out, and though they posed a much bigger threat..

Their skills still had no match for the city's unknown heroes.

Even so, they were large in numbers, and their hiding spot had yet to be discovered, so every few days, sometimes weeks, there would be some form of robbery or explosion that the Turtles would rush to stop, and if it weren't for the fact they would most definitely tell the cops about mutant turtles living in the sewers, Leo would have thrown them all in jail by now.

This time, the Black Rose had attempted to hit a new store that was slowly gaining popularity, and it was lucky the turtles were there in the area to stop them. They had only been a few miles away when the echoes of alarms blaring reached their ears, and without a sound they had run to the area to check it out.

Now, a 22 year-old Leonardo leaned over the edge of a building slightly with his brothers waiting patiently and silently behind him for the orders to move. Surprisingly enough, it did not take much for them to get to this part of the training after Tiger Claw's last attempt to get rid of them; the part where they were completely silent and still, blended perfectly into the shadows. Even Mikey had gone full ninja mode, not a sound peeping from any of them.

Something told him Splinter would be proud of the achievement, and the thought absentmindedly pulled at his heartstrings.

His eyes flicked, watching for any signs of movement as the alarm blared on. Besides him, he felt Raph move just a bit closer, gripping his sai with anticipation.

Then, the alarm was silenced. Cut short, the final ringing note echoing through the alleyways like a toll bell.

"There." Donnie spoke up suddenly, pointing to the right. Leo followed the direction quickly and found four figures running from the side of the store, bags in hands.

The leader in blue stood, nodding. "Alright. You know what to do."

"Go time." Mikey grinned wolfishly.

Barely a whisper was heard at their departure.

It didn't take much time for them to catch up. If anything, the Turtles had seemingly chased them just for the thrill. But it didn't last for more than thirty seconds before the four split in opposite directions, jumping or flipping off of fire escapes and walls until they landed in front of the thieves, boxing them in,causing all four to freeze in their tracks. Leo landed last and in front, katanas already held in an attack position with a smile.

It had been easier to smile recently, so he took any chance he could to do so.

"Turtles." Hissed one of the four, and each one dropped their bags to reach for their own weapons.

Weapons that seemed far too fancy for them to be of unimportance, and it was then Leo realized with a start: These were not their normal enemy.

One carried a kuwa with a deep green, long handle, the steel for the flat blade strong and new. Another carried metal tonfas with blades running along the bottom, a bright blue ribbon wrapping around the handles. The third held an odachi with a black handle and gold hilt, and the last with a saihai. Each had intricate markings and details, and it was hard to tell if the studded yet few jewels on each weapon were real or not.

Each one seemed as if they were meant to counter the weapons each turtle carried, and the semblance did not slip past Leo, nor his brothers. Raph scoffed lightly at the sight, albeit weariness still edged into his voice.

"Pft. Nice weapons. Where'd you steal 'em from??"

"We did not steal them." Spat the furthest left with a kuwa in their hands. "We earned these weapons by training and discipline. Something you lack."

Leo narrowed his eyes dangerously. "Then that shows how little you know about us." He motioned his head towards the store they robbed from. "Why steal from a place that has little to no money in it?"

The gang member (although Leo was starting to think they were more than just that) with the odachi slipped into their own defensive position, eyes trained solely and dangerously on the blue cladded turtle. "That is none of your concern."

Perfect. Cryptic answers. Leo thought somewhat annoyedly, gripping his weapons tighter and watching for any sign of distractions or openings from their opponents. Just what we need.

"Well," Came Donnie from his right, almost sounding bored or discontent. "At least this fight will be more interesting than ones we've had recently."

No one moved for a few short, tense moments. Then the members of the Black Rose surged forward with a surprising amount of speed and strength.

The sound of weapons clashing echoed around them, and the battle commenced.

The metal of Leo's katanas met the wide arc of the odachi wielder, a ring vibrating down into his arms uncomfortably as he gritted his teeth, meeting his new opponent's black, angry gaze. One of their eyes was milky, a scar cracking over the skin of their face.

"Freak." Spat the gang member through a black fabric covering their mouth and nose. "You will rue the day you stepped foot in our path."

Leo couldn't help the smirk that split his lips apart–it wasn't even cocky, he just found the statement amusing at this point. "Yeah, no offense, but I've kinda heard that one like a million times already to the point where it's almost not funny anymore. I mean, you do know who we are right?"

His opponent narrowed their eyes. "We do. We know your defeat of the Kraang, and of the Shredder. My leader respects you because of your.. Victories. I however," Somehow, the malice in their eyes strengthened. "Do not."

Well. That's surprising. The leader in blue thought somewhat distractedly yet genuinely; just how did news like that get out in the first place? Those were things people weren't supposed to know about.

"Well, feeling's mutual I guess." He pushed away his thoughts and pushed harder on his blade, meeting the person's glare with his own. "After all, I can't fathom why you'd go through the trouble of robbing a store that doesn't even have money in the first place other than to be jerks."

Leo could tell the gang member was smiling with the way their cheeks crinkled, and their eyes glinted maliciously, immediately setting off red alerts in the turtle's mind. Their voice came dripping with malicious humor. "Who said we were here for the money?"

Before the mutant had a chance to ask what that had even meant, he was suddenly pushed back with a startled yelp at the unexpected surge of strength the odachi wielder had used. He only had a second to recover 'til the blade came whistling at his left and Leo parried quickly, twisting himself around. From the corner of his peripheral vision he could see his brothers finishing off their sides of the battle, and a surge of slight relief and confidence in their abilities spread through him before he allowed himself to focus back to his own ongoing battle. They seemed to be holding their own pretty well, no need to jump in yet.

But if he had turned just another inch more, he would have noticed a lone figure slipping into the shadows of the alleyway they had been fighting in, clutching an odd, square shape to their chest and pressing it to the corner of the wall where it was hidden from sight, and disappearing just as fast as they came.

Leo danced away from his current distraction on light feet, simply on the defensive, the smirk from earlier still present. It was a little more cocky now, sure, but it was at least a bit deserved. The Black Rose member charged with an aggravated shout and again Leo dodged, only to gasp with slight surprise as the person's foot followed the odachi's strike within a millisecond. If he had been a year younger, the leader in blue would have fallen for the trick. Instead, he sidestepped the attack, his katanas singing as he brought them to an arch, nicking the human's thick black clothes.

He hadn't been aiming to cut skin—he swore he never would again after having endless nightmares about what it felt like running his blade through Shredder's neck. But it was a clear, dangerous message, one that was understood as the human gripped where they were cut, dark eyes meeting dangerous, piercing blue eyes.

There was no winning this.

For a moment both sword wielders traded blows with their gazes. Then, the human gave a mirthless chuckle, shaking his head.

"You wanna know what else I heard??" Leo could tell by the tone of voice they were sneering. "You may have won against the Shredder, but you had also lost to him as well. All this bravado you are showing is fake."

The logical side of him knew he shouldn't engage. It screamed at him to leave it be, to turn away before things got worse.

But Leo's hands clenched against the hilts of his katanas as his glare grew colder. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

The human rose his chin. Almost as if he had gained a victory. "Your innocence, for one. I heard that those scars you carry now come from the Shredder, and at the young age of sixteen. In my opinion, he should have left you there to rot."

It felt as if he had been struck in the chest by a large truck. Like he was under cold, bone-chilling water and couldn't breathe. Yet the Black Rose member only continued on despite the silent warnings he was being given. A knowing, victorious glint in his eyes. The river continued to take the breath out of Leo's lungs.

"I also heard he had taken the life of what you called your father, who was just as disgusting and worthless as you. I'd say good riddance." The human's scarf dropped to reveal a large, vicious grin. "One less rat to kill in this vermin-infested city."

Never before had he let insults control his actions. But all he saw then was red.

Leo hadn't registered he had moved until he felt wind pelting his scaled skin, a slightly hoarse shout escaping his throat as he lunged. The attack that was meant to kill (and a part of him later would be relieved for this) never landed. Through his anger, he could not see his opponent move into a defensive position, and again–this time literally–he felt the wind rush out of his plastron as a knee struck him where his stomach would be. There wasn't even time to give a pained shout before he felt himself fly into the wall with an surprising amount of force, the shouts of his brothers calling his name barely registering through the ringing of his ears. Then the wall behind him turned invisible, and he gave a shout as he fell backwards, falling for just a second before landing on solid ground again on his plastron.

Something metal, which he registered as his katana, clattered to his side as he took a moment to ease the spinning of his head, bringing a hand to the top with a low groan. He lifted his head, squinting and blinking at the ground, only to stop, brows furrowing slightly with confusion.

Old, dead looking carpet replaced the ground underneath him. Before he could even attempt to look up to gather his bearings, however, three other yelling bodies crashed into his shell, sending him back down to the floor, voices mixing together chaotically with groans and grunts of pain.

"Guys." Leo wheezed, one arm awkwardly trapped underneath the weight of his brothers. "Get off."

"Sorry Leo.""Sorry.""Oops." Came his brother's murmured responses all at once, and each turtle worked to untangle himself from the rest, all except Mikey, who stayed sprawled over Leo's legs in a dramatic fashion that made the oldest roll his eyes somewhat fondly.

He turned his attention to Raph, who had sat cross legged and held a hand to his head still. "Are you all okay?"

His hot headed brother blinked incredulously for a second. "... Are we okay?? Leo, you were the one that fell through the wall. Plus, we landed on you. Are you okay?"

"To be fair," Donnie cut in with a finger raised in the air, sitting against the wall they had just been tumbled through. "We all kind of did. And we land on each other all the time anyway."

"True." Mikey murmured. It was then Leo's right knee twinged uncomfortably, so he carefully slipped his legs from under the youngest, who protested with a quiet, "Hey."

Again, the blue cladded turtle rolled his eyes at the antics before turning again to Raph. "Either way, my question still stands. Just want to make sure no one is badly hurt, that's all."

"... We're fine, Fearless." Raph responded after a beat of staring at Leo with an expression he couldn't quite read. "So long as you are."

Leo sighed softly, then reached for his katana and rose to his feet. He took a moment to look for the other pair, only to frown upon not seeing it there. Which meant it had been left on the other side of the wall. He tried not to let the sting of losing the heirloom of his clan hurt too much as he straightened up to gather their surroundings; there were other things to worry about. "I will be, once we figure out where we even are and how we're getting- Out..."

His voice died in his throat as his brain attempted to comprehend what exactly he was seeing in front of him.

His brothers had fallen suit, standing to their feet, and not a word was said between any of them for a suddenly tense, long moment.

Everything… Everything was yellow. A sickly, green yellow. The walls, the carpet under their feet, which felt more like sandpaper than actual soft fabric. The spaces winded in an undistinguishable pattern, looking as if they were meant to hold office spaces. Every which way looked as if the building stretched on forever, and the lights above buzzed loudly like the bugs in trees on the hottest days in New York, the heat already felt on his skin despite being at least two feet in the air.

It was.. Unnerving. And almost indescribable in its strangeness. The feeling of this place–as if they were being watched–did not help, and each mutant turtle felt it.

As if speaking any louder would awaken something unseen, Raph hissed a quiet, "What… In the hell…?" He brought his sai close to his person, shoulders tense and high. "Where the hell are we?"

Leo didn't turn to him. He felt if his gaze left the depths of his surroundings, something would come barreling forward and attack. "... I don't know."

"This place is giving some seriously bad vibes." Mikey's voice quivered just slightly. The oldest felt his baby blue eyes bore into his shell. "Leo, we need to get out of here. Now."

"I know. But like Raph said: where even is 'here'?"

"... Nowhere."

The hoarse sound of Donnie's voice was what made Leo's attention snap to the tallest of his brothers immediately. He found him staring at his T-phone with wide eyes, almost horrified.

"Come again??" Raph asked. The hothead of the group didn't bother to hide the high franticness in his voice.

"We're… We're nowhere." Donnie repeated, and finally looked up at his brothers, matching their wide gazes with his own. "There's nothing. No signal, no service. It's.. It's just.."

He turned the phone to them, showing them the completely black screen. Not even their reflections were showing on the face of the device.

"Blank."

[starjxsung]

no threats today 🥲 I feel like going shopping and buying a cute dress and doing my hair and makeup and going on a cute date and hugging and kissing and everything cute for the whooole day but I can't bcs I'm lonely af and I'm home ordering pizza for my sister while she's watching Tom and Jerry and I'm covered in tissues in my bed trying not to be loud cause she's 8 and I don't wanna ruin her "my older sister is a goddess" mindset

just gonna wait until it's dark outside so I can hide under my blanket and hug my kitten plushie that for some unknown reason smells like hyunjin, supposedly (I did NOT search hyunjin's perfume and spray it on her and I'll sue you if you accuse me of such crazy act) and read some sappy hyunjin fluff until I fall asleep

- ☾

Hyunjin perfume is CRAZY I definitely do not also own Versace perfume for this exact reason………….

I too feel like going out and doing something cute and unfortunately I am bound to the confines of my little apartment with absolutely nothing to do except bedrot and listen to the same album on a loop and maybe contemplate the entirety of the universe. feeling amazing and productive (I couldn’t even bring myself to get coffee today ) !!!!!!!!

I’m probably going to repeat said unproductive cycle and then go to bed at 3am because I don’t know how to sleep before the hour of 3am and then I’m going to be half-dead at work tomorrow and do the same thing again !!!! life repeats itself

I love you and when I travel to wherever it is you are I promise to take you out on a picnic or some cute shit. we’re all just deteriorating on different sides of the world and maybe there’s a beauty in that

[p-antufa]

The Force’s Melody

Character(s): Arkeous Malum | Saitol Vingon (OC)

Warning(s): None

Word Count: 811

Prompt: Vivid. Write a scene describing a dream or nightmare a character experiences without using/relying upon visual imagery. Instead, use the character’s other senses (touch, hearing, smell, etc.) to explore the dream’s contents and its effect upon them.

Summary: This is about my darksider/former inquisitor/my love, and he experiences a vision that leads him to discover that it is not just the Force guiding him, but someone who became one with the Force years ago.

Author Notes: I haven’t posted Sai on here yet but this was a little warm up piece bc I was hyper fixating on him for a while recently. Not too happy with it cuz it’s a bit messy and incomplete but hey- it’s just practice. Saitol perceives the Force as music, and I don’t feel comfortable not using imagery in my writing so we tryin shit out here. Like everything I post, this is open for workshopping and advice :)

-

The same airy tune that pulled him in its direction beckoned him again. He couldn’t make out a path in the dark, but he heard it—a woman’s gentle cooing.

Saitol had heard the same blend of notes since he was a youngling, but not once was he able to find an instrument or a voice that could replicate it. It was somewhat of a childish attempt to reach out for anything that could bring him closer to it.

Sure, he had gotten close to finding a similar sound, but none of it closed in on his chest, warming his lungs the way the woman did. The way the Force spoke to him—it was personal.

No wonder it seemed like no one else in the universe played the same music. It was meant for him to hear and him only. The rich timbre of the piano-like runs and each swell represented different words, different commands.

Saitol stood frozen in the claustrophobic space of his childhood home. He searched his memories for each time this particular song came to him, desperate to find a connection between it all. His escape from the Empire, the rescue of the Jedi Knight—events that pretty much karked up his life…?

He swallowed.

They were decisions. Ones he made with the Force’s guidance.

Still, it wasn’t the answer he was looking for.

A thick gloom spread toward the center of the room, hindering his ability to see the scarce furniture and toys scattered about. “Focus, Saitol,” he grumbled a reminder to himself.

The voice was the same every time, though different rhythms and melodies warned Saitol of any approaching threats or certainties. Now, it let him know it was okay to just be. To let the reassuring arms of the unknown envelop him in a tight embrace. It assured him that he didn’t have to fall back on the Force in fear this time.

Saitol closed his eyes and began inching toward the gradual crescendo.

Guide me, he exhaled through his nose and responded silently to the Force.

Each hesitant step he took eased slightly as the mellow tempo became more confident of its place in the message. A hollow, rumbling sigh from the backdrop became more distinct as it shaped the framework for the Force’s finale; a grandiose display of harmonies echoing off each other, each distancing themselves from Saitol in order to lead him forward.

Sai found himself waiting for a satisfying ending for far too long. He cracked one eye open to see the same shadows shrouding his surroundings as the music swept him farther into the darkness, progressing into a deafening whir. He grimaced and fell to his knees as he slapped his palms to his head. His body relaxed at the realization that the thundering in his ears wasn’t from the music, but from his own heart. ‘It’s okay,’ Saitol held his breath in his chest for a moment.

The silence that followed was unnerving. A bright light caused his eyes to flutter open and it suddenly dimmed to a comfortable level as the image focused in on the silhouette of a braid descending a woman’s dress, just resting above the small of her back.

Saitol studied her figure and the brief sight of her face before she turned her head away. He stepped to her side, just out of her peripheral, with the utmost caution and bit his tongue.

A tender, muted note emerged from the back of the woman’s throat with a soothing raspiness as she looked down into a crib and reached inside, letting her fingers gently trace the features of a human boy. A baby. He shot her a toothless smile at the tune. A tune that Saitol began to recognize. The glissando between notes made them fit together like puzzle pieces.

The Force’s Melody.

Saitol shifted his gaze to the youngling and his expression fell in bewilderment. He brought his fingers up to his own cheek all while studying the discoloration they both shared. The human youngling sported a smaller patch of milky-white skin, but it was one that would spread across his body years later.

He turned to the side, hand still glued to his face. Beside him, he could only make out the woman’s facial crevices. While her expression was as dark as the rest of the room, her music told Sai everything he needed to know. She was enlightened. At peace. She had no trouble letting go and being one with the Force.

“Mother,” Saitol’s feet could have sunk into the ground right then and he wouldn’t have noticed. He felt his body succumb to gravity but the concurrent, strange weightlessness in his middle told him to remain vigilant.