#but i think what’s really… they’re just inevitable

[bubblegumgothglados]

hiii i’m wondering if you have any advice on how to properly vet doms? I’ve been trying to catch one on an anonymous messaging thingy my college uses and so far anyone that’s been interested has had extremely limited experience (it’s crazy to call urself a dom when all you’ve done is ties ur exes hands together once or some shit). when i’ve talked to these people i’ve explained that i don’t wanna have to teach someone what they’re doing (again lol) and tried to de-50shades-ify their conception of bdsm. do you have any advice on what to ask if i find someone that actually knows what they’re doing? are there things i should be vetting for beyond basic competence and human decency? red flags i may easily miss?

If you have any general advice for me on my endless search for a dom too i’d really appreciate that, god knows i’ve been unsuccessful so far lol.

(thankyouuuuu)

Great question

Nuance, my opinions, blah blahh blahhhh

There are three things I look for when judging another dominant

First. Kindness, caring, compassion, etc. You gotta be kind before you're allowed to be cruel, you gotta be respectful before you can treat someone disrespectfully, you gotta make them feel safe before you can make them feel scared, and so on. In practical terms you can see this in the way someone treats those they see as lesser. How do they react to bugs; you almost always have full power over bugs, you can kill them on a whim, so the way that you treat them says something about the way you treat things you have power over. How do they treat children; kids ask questions that seem stupid or make comments that can be hurtful because they're still learning, the grace with which you handle that says something about how you'll treat others when they're less than perfect. These things matter when evaluating a dominant because submissives are often toys or pets or slaves or something else inherently lesser.

Second. Enthusiasm for learning, willingness to accept your own mistakes and their consequences. We all fuck up, sometimes badly, how we move forward after that is what's important. Making a mistake once is inevitable, making the same mistake a second time means you didn't learn from it. So how do they react if you correct them? Do they get huffy? Angry? Shout until you tell them they're right even if they aren't? Or do they accept it graciously, maybe even thank you for teaching them something. Can they tell you about mistakes they've made in the past and what they've changed because of that?

Third. Fucking dominance. Not "I just want to make you happy" actual from the heart dominance. More "service doms" should embrace that they're actually submissive tops. This ones really difficult to read but hopefully you can get a vibe based on how they talk about being in control, if they think it's something they're supposed to do or if they actually enjoy it and want it

I think that's all I have to say, but if anyone else has advice please do weigh in

[natsredbra]

Wingwoman, go!

summary: Misty develops a cutesy, high school type of crush on Nat - Van helps her execute it!

a/n: Ooookay, it’s finally here. I will cry if it flops. I’m actually kind of proud of this one, which is rare for me. Ty 📼 anon for this very cool req!

warnings: angst (not too bad tho), Natalie can’t tell what she wants…I actually don’t think if there’s anything else but lmk if you do find something!

word count: 4.9k

pairing(s): Misty Quigley x Natalie Scatorccio; brief Van Palmer x Misty Quigley (but mostly platonic)

taglist: @misty-scatorccio, @towabirdno1fan, @feralnataroni, @flurpe @lesbabe6 @radioactivesweet @ambessasevikasexslave, @ashliami @johnnytoothpick @ikeepgettinglostwithchairs @wompingburg

It was quite a warm, sunny day, though the absence of Mari was much colder. Natalie sat in her hut, awaiting her next inevitable meeting while worrying her head off. She was supposed to protect these damn girls. She’s meant to lead and take charge but no, Shauna Shipman being the way she was kept ruining everything.

“Hey, we good to come in?” Van asked, peering inside and seeing Nat look lost in thought.

“Oh- yeah, sure.” She stammered, moving over to make room for the two girls.

“Hi! You look a little pale, are you alright? Should I get you some water or tea? Or I could-“ Misty rushed as soon as she sat down, taking ahold of the girl’s hand.

“No, Misty I’m fine. Just get on with it.” She said quietly, not looking at her. In truth she didn’t mean to be snippy, but she was extremely irritable right now. Had right to be, too.

“Well we just wanted to go over everyone’s chores today. Gen is being annoying about the shit bucket.” Van said in a bored tone.

Natalie could not fucking believe it. Their friend was out there, somewhere missing and they’re worried about their dumps? Jesus Christ.

“Fucking god, I’ll take it.” She said, rubbing her face with one of her hands. The other one was still in the warmth of Misty’s.

“Hey, it’s okay Nat. I’ll do it, I know how stressed you are.” The curlyhead replied to her.

She sounded different, somehow. Sure, Misty was always there to kiss someone’s ass but this felt different. More affectionate, with genuine worry. Van indeed noticed.

Her eyes narrowed slightly as a smirk formed on her face, observing the unassuming Natalie as she softly nodded, giving Misty a small “thanks.”

“So…we will leave you alone. You go rest or something, you look like hell, okay?” Van added to Nat, with prominent concern.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll try to come up with a plan, just make sure everyone gets ready.” Natalie practically groaned, hugging her knees to your chest and resting her head on them.

The couple of them got out, Misty sending a small wave Nat’s way. She acknowledged it. She really did, with a barely noticeable smile.

“Hey, Quigley!” Van called out, tapping her on the shoulder.

“What’s up?” Misty asked all too enthusiastically, turning around to look at her.

“Well your BPM around Nat, apparently.” She said quieter, putting her hands on her hips as she studied the other girl’s expression. Van looked very amused, and had the “knew it!” expression. Tai and her did bet on chores when they talked about it - Van insisted that Misty had a thing for Natalie.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Misty shot back.

She did.

“Are you kidding? You were practically drooling when she took your hand!” Van said with an amused cackle.

“Okay- you can’t tell anyone!” Misty relented, her voice dropping to a whisper-yell.

“I won’t, don’t worry. It’s very sweet.” Van said, though Misty picked up on the slight mockery.

“Yeah, okay. I knew I shouldn’t have told you, you’ll just make fun of me.” She said in a slightly shaky tone, and for some unforeseen reason, it made Van feel slightly bad.

”Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make it sound that way, god knows I was a dork when I crushed on Tai.” Van soothed with an apologetic glance.

“It’s fine. Thank you for the apology.” Misty replied. Before the redhead could muster a reply, they were cut off by none other than Natalie stepping out of her hut.

“Speak of the devil.”

“Attention! Look, we need to get on this, we can’t just have her wander around. After everything we heard last night, she can’t be out there all alone.” Nat called out to the girls as they gathered.

“What do you mean?” Gen asked, sending down a bucket of water.

“Mari didn’t come home last night.” Tai replied in a bored tone, laced with worry.

“How didn’t you know that?” Someone else exclaimed before Nat cut them off.

“Enough! Now that we all know she’s missing, we need to look for her! I’m not fucking joking, she could be in serious danger.” She scandalized, entirely fed up with them all.

No one spoke for a moment after that.

“Fine, I’m gonna find Mari. Who’s with me?” Natalie asked, looking around for any volunteers.

Van slightly kicked Misty’s leg in a “Raise your hand!” gesture, as if she wasn’t going to already. Indeed, her arm flew up. She felt both hurt and disappointed when Nat seemed annoyed by the gesture.

“Shauna. You’re coming with me.” She directed, though it didn’t do much for the brunette.

“I’m not looking for her. Fuck Mari.” Shauna seethed, seeming offended Natalie even had the nerve to ask.

It made Misty a little giddy now, knowing she had no choice but to go with her. Van shot her a knowing look and a grin. “I’m coming too!” Misty cheered, clasping her hands together once she got up.

“We’re going right?” Tai asked.

“Yeah, but not with them.” Van replied, already heading to the woods.

“Obviously.”

—————

“Where do you think she went?” Misty asked, following Nat like a puppy. They had been walking for some time now, and Misty attempted casual conversation more than once, even when Nat didn’t seem to engage.

“Well we know Mari skipped dinner and there’s berries that way, so…” Natalie replied flatly.

“Oh smart! Decisive.” Misty called out, staying quiet for a moment. “You know, if there’s anything you wanna talk about, we can-“

“Well, when Travis and I went hunting we didn’t really talk, we just kind of quietly…” Natalie said, looking down at her feet.

Oh yeah, she knew what they did, it wasn’t talking. Didn’t like it. She decided to change the topic.

“Too many people have disappeared without a trace. Crystal…Coach Scott.” She knew it was a risky mention, but went with it.

“Mm, fuck Coach Scott.” Nat retorted, pursing her lips with an eye roll.

“Do you think that he’s dead? Do you think he definitely burned the cabin down?” Misty inquired further.

Natalie stayed quiet. The truth was, it was a difficult topic for her. More so then any of them really. But long live the Scatorccio name, she’d never admit it.

“He always believed in you, you know. I think he’d be really proud of what you built.” Misty said with no ill intention, yet it scratched Nat’s brain differently.

‘Proud.’ As if anyone was ever truly proud of her. Not her dad, not Travis, not Coach Scott. Misty was proud, Natalie didn’t know it. She payed no attention to it.

“Coach Scott didn’t know shit about me, we basically never spoke.” She shot back at the girl, speeding along.

“Wait wait!” Misty ran up, placing a hand on Nat’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to add salt to the wound or anything! I just thought you’d wanna know-“

Natalie wanted to be like the others, just tell her to fuck off and roll her eyes, she really did. But that’s simply not who she was, especially around Misty for some reason. The girl was annoying and overbearing to no end, but for she intrigued her. It was a mystery as to why, yet it still happened every time they would talk.

“It’s alright. I know you didn’t mean it in a bad way. And I shouldn’t have snapped.” She interjected, scratching her head. It wasn’t an apology but it was pretty damn close - more then Misty every heard.

“Oh, yeah…thank you.” Misty chipped, awkwardly letting her hand drip from Nat’s shoulder.

She looked into the half-blonde’s eyes. They were gorgeous, green, and it complimented her fair skin tone so well. Her hair may have been grown out, but it’s the most beautiful Misty’s ever seen it. Somehow, Nat was also still soft to the touch. Maybe the summer humidity worked in her favor, she thought, but her own callouses were simply outnumbered. Not that she wouldn’t kiss those as well, as little as Nat has them.

“We should carry on.” Natalie said softly. She could see Misty studying her, not looking or checking her out. Genuinely looking over her and mapping out her features. Natalie also thought it was simple admiration.

She stayed quiet due to the mutual, unsaid agreement between them. That Natalie was someone to be proud of.

—————

With all the productive conversation they had, Mari was still a no show for anyone that looked for her. Bummed that their efforts were fruitless, the Yellowjackets settled back into their humble abodes.

“So, how’d it go with…y’know?” Van questioned as Misty came along.

“Well we didn’t find Mari.” Misty said as she set her bag down.

“Yeah, that sucks, but I’m asking what happened with Nat?” Van asked, can you blame her for being invested? There was absolutely no harmless drama in that forest anymore, this is all she could het right now! And the two of them getting together would be as funny as it would be cute, why wouldn’t she wanna participate in that?

“I don’t know, okay?! She definitely doesn’t like me back. I don’t wanna get my hopes up about something that I know won’t happen.” She bellowed, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You don’t know anything! Everyone is so horny out here, I saw Melissa and Gen humping each other by the lake.” Van argued back, seeing how the girl’s eyes glimmered with a bit of hope. “I’m just saying, nothing is impossible. If I got Taissa you could get Madonna.”

“You really think I can do this?” Misty bugged, there was never enough praise or reassurance for her.

“Sure, why not? And hey- worst case scenario is she rejects you, which is what you’re expecting anyway.” Van stated bluntly, taking a seat next to her.

They observed Natalie as she talked to Tai across camp, seemingly making a plan for finding Mari the next day. Covering more ground, going south, that sort of thing.

“She’s so pretty.” Misty declared, looking at Natalie as if she hung the moon and the stars. It was the way she thought of her anyway.

Van could only give her a knowing glance from the side. Really, she knew the feeling all too well.

—————

The morning soon came, and with it more worry for Mari’s disappearance. There was no sign of her, and they were all preparing for the inevitable, though no one had in them to voice it.

Natalie got up early. Too early for her liking, but she had a lot on her mind. Yes, her missing friend was not a comforting thought, but what unfortunately lingered the most was the conversation she had with none other than Misty Quigley.

She chose not to think of the hand that lingered on her shoulder for a moment too long, yet her very words. Did she really think coach would be proud of her or was she saying it to get on her good side, just like she tried with everyone else? Natalie asked herself as she stared at the pointy ceiling that gave away a couple rays of sunlight.

But this time, she seemed so raw and authentic, and nothing like what the other girls saw of her. Misty wasn’t the annoying or overbearing girl everyone knew her to be in that moment - she was caring not conniving. Wasn’t plotting a way to be accepted but giving her true reassurance. It hit Natalie harder then it should have

She hated how it made her feel. How feeling seen, even by Misty fucking Quigley made her stomach flutter and an involuntary, tiny smile stretch over her face. Jesus Christ she wasn’t actually smiling over Misty Quigley!

Whatever, Nat chose to ignore her emotions yet again and decided she needed fresh air and a cold splash of water on her face.

Once she did get down to the lake, with Nat’s great luck, Misty appeared to be there too.

“Oh, hey! Why are you up, it’s only now sunrise?” Misty called out, turning to look at Nat.

“Couldn’t sleep.” Natalie gruffly answered, taking a seat beside her.

“Nightmare?” Misty questioned, far too chipper at this hour.

“Something like that. Why are you up?” Nat pondered quietly, glancing up at her.

“I always get up early. I don’t like wasting the day.”

“Right.”

They sat in silence for a long moment yet surprisingly, Natalie was the one to break it.

“Did you mean what you said yesterday? About Coach…?” She inquired in a soft, unsure tone. It made Misty’s heart melt.

“Of course I meant it. How could I not? Anyone would be proud of you, much less him! You were his favorite.” Misty reassured still as her hyper self, though she toned it down a little. The air between them seemed charged, with what, only god knows.

“You’re an amazing leader. Don’t let Shauna or anyone make you believe anything else.” Misty added with a firm tone, her eyes boring through Natalie’s face. She still didn’t look at her.

“Thank you.” She muttered anyway, not letting her tears show.

Misty noticed, she always did. Always would.

Without thinking twice she lunged forward, wrapping her arms around Nat’s laden, slender frame. She felt like absolute heaven in her grip, even her soft sobs and watery eyes were like renaissance art for Misty to explore and interpret in her own way.

As if she was everyone else’s in theory but hers alone right now. Natalie was hers to appreciate and nurture as would be a sagging lamb. She almost was, in a way.

“Shh, it’s okay. It’s gonna be better, I promise. If anything I’ll make it better…” Misty cooed, circling her arms around Nat’s neck, hands coming out to soothingly scratch her scalp.

Natalie’s were protectively crossed over her chest, yet she made no move to pull away. Simply enough, she curled up in Misty’s hold as hot tears streamed down her face. She was quiet, letting out small sighs and whimpers as she wept.

The moment was abruptly broken by a cheering commotion back at their camp, making them both whip their heads up. Their looks of confusion soon disappeared once they heard none other than Mari’s voice.

Misty took the liberty to wipe the stray wetness that lingered on Nat’s face before helping her get up on her feet. Without another word they hurried along, two minutes felt like hours with all the anticipation running through their veins.

"Mari!" Misty yelled out, running up to the girl. She looked absolutley exhausted and in pain - god knows what even happened to her.

"Thank god you're okay! I mean thank the dirt or whatever- I'm so glad you're not dead." She urged with a laugh that got returned, Natalie moving to stand behind them.

"Where were you?" Charged Shauna, coming in with all her angry glory.

"I walked back to civilization so I could fuck your dad!" Mari chided in a sarcastic tone.

"She fell in a hole and fucked up her knee." Taissa answered instead.

"I dislocated it. Like the girl we played from Manasquan last year. The kneecap was back here and I had to push it all the way in."

"Oh!" "Ew!"

"The hole was like- twenty feet deep, I thought I was gonna die in there! Like Baby Jessica!"

"Baby Jessica didn't die."

"And that was a well."

"A well's a hole." Mari finished off before being abruptly interrupted by Shauna.

"If your knee was so fucked, how'd you get out?" Shauna mockingly inquired after which followed a long silence.

She looked around the girls which returned skeptical looks, expecting a believable answer. Once she realized she couldn’t come up with one, she went with the truth and hoped for the best.

"Coach Scott found me...he tied me up and took me to this cave he's been living in." Mari finally explained, earning gasps that came from sheer disbelief.

Natalie’s chest almost felt like it was in her throat “Fuck.” She muttered, out of fear or rapture, she wasn’t sure, and it was a thin line.

"I knew it! He's totally lost it" Van grumbled with a scoff.

"You don't know that!" Misty defended. Not coach, for Natalie.

"Dude he tied her up and took her to his lair!" Van tried to reason again, though their bickering was soon over

"Can you find your way back?"

—————

After the whole ordeal, as they were getting ready to head off Misty sat in her hut, packing a few necessities. She heard a slight ruffle outside, revealing herself to be Van as she entered.

“So, I saw you were with Nat when Mari came back.” Van prodded with peaking curiosity, sitting down on the hard ground barely covered by a lanky sleeping bag.

“Yeah, so what?” Misty tried to play it off, the slight red hue of her cheeks becoming quite obvious.

“Well…any game?” Van inquired, wanting to coax a satisfying answer. She was living for this, truly.

“No, not really. I mean she was super upset so I hugged her and stuff, but that’s it.” Misty replied dreadfully, zipping her backpack in quite an aggressive manner.

“Dude what?! Natalie hugged you? You do realize that’s like - a huge deal, right?” Van scandalized in a whisper - yell, leaning in in immense interest.

“What do you mean?” Misty asked hurriedly, setting her bag down as her investment skyrocketed.

“Are you joking? Do you know how fucking rare it is for Nat to show someone she’s upset, let alone hug them?” Van exclaimed with a dry laugh.

“Wait, really?”

“Damn, you might be better at this than we thought.” Van jested with a sly grin, pressing her back flat against the hut’s wall yet again. “But wait, do you know how to y’know…properly?”

“Do what now?” Misty shot back, tone laced with confusion.

“Kiss, Quiggles. Do you know how to make out? Other lessons you’ll learn along the way.”

Oh

Oh.

“I mean- I tried, with this boy once. But we were little, maybe eleven. And it was tongueless.” Misty replied with a bit of embarrassment, but mostly a strange sort of engagement.

“Seriously? Nat likes good kissers.” Van murmured in a small question. “How about I teach you?” She blurted out all too casually.

“What? What do you mean teach me?” Misty quietly implored.

“I mean kiss you, teach you to kiss.”

“Seriously? Won’t Taissa be mad?” She bugged, cheeks beet red.

“She’ll be fine, she knows. So you good to do this?” Van dismissed and asked, that fucking grin still on her face.

“Yeah, sure.”

Van nodded carefully, now taking a gentler approach towards the girl. She spread out her legs in front of her, silently urging her to climb into her lap. Misty takes the hint, carefully straddling Van’s lower thighs, almost where her knees arch.

Van was slightly amused and chuckled at Misty’s nervousness, though she didn’t say anything to make it tougher on her. Instead, she leaned forward, inches away from her chapped, pink lips.

She took a moment for Misty to get comfortable and take a deep breath before snaking her hand to the back of her neck, angling closer until their lips met.

At first, it was a soft, close mouthed press against each other’s lips. They lingered there for a moment until Misty took the liberty to place her hands gently on Van’s hips.

From there it slightly escalated, as Misty parted her lips in a soft gasp, Van took the opportunity to envelop the girl’s top lip between her own. The action repeated as they both got touchier, breathing heavier.

Misty tried her luck, slipping her tongue past Van’s entrance. Surprisingly, Van let her, swirling her own against it in a swift, practiced dance.

All Misty could think about was Natalie. What gave her confidence was imagining it all being her. Her imagination knew no bounds normally either, so how could it in a moment like this?

In her very mind, the scenario was much different. She pictured Nat, in all her leather jacket glory, pulling her into her lap and crashing her lips against hers like there was no tomorrow. Like there wouldn’t be tomorrow if she hadn’t. It was what Misty wanted the most, really, to feel needed by Natalie, and god was her head running wild right now.

Van’s mouth against hers never relented, letting her feel the moment out. They found a nice, slow and sensual rhythm the more they went on. It might’ve been the funnest teaching moment Misty ever had, really. Second to the first aid class she took sophomore year, of course.

“Is everyone ready?” Shauna shouted out, making them both jump.

Misty was abruptly taken out of her imaginary haze, wide eyed and flushed once she pulled away. Van gave a her a soft giggle before pushing her off her lap, getting up and ready for the journey.

It was a long one indeed, once they reached the very crucial clearing the sun had already set. Mari needed many breaks due to her leg, and it was too hot to go fast anyhow. Everyone felt a rush of panic once Mari stopped, standing confused as to where she’s supposed to go.

”For fucks sake, really?” Tai barked at her.

“I’m not lost okay? I’m just remembering.” She replied, looking around.

“Hey, it’s okay, take your time. You got this.” Came from none other than Shauna. Surprising at first glance perhaps, yet obvious with her intent.

After much exhausting walking and the group bonding over jelly legs and excessive blisters, all of them arrived to the almighty cave.

"That's it! Over here!" Mari exclaimed in excitement as they all gathered around.

"Shauna wait!" Misty jumped in, "We're really gonna just...go in?" She asked, entirely skeptical of the situation.

"What did you think we were gonna do? What do you think happens when we go inside? You guys, we don't have to do this." Natalie tried one last time, though her efforts proved to be fruitless.

"Yeah, we do."

"Fine. I'm going first - you two stand guard, if you see anything just scream your asses off." Nat stated, and everyone complied without a question.

Like a dumb action movie hero she went in first, protecting her group. Misty went in right behind her as well as the other girls.

Pretty soon they were blocked - in Shauna and Akilah's opinion a diversion made by Ben, yet in Nat's a collapse.

They stood there, doing the only thing they all knew how to - argue pointlessly.

"It's a double bluff, like in that movie with the two guys!"

"The Princess Bride?"

"How the fuck do you know that?"

"We should try both. Shauna, you Van and Akilah take the open path, the rest of us will try to clear out what we can here. Take two lanterns, we'll take the other three and if you run into trouble just get loud, we'll do the same." Natalie commanded quite like she was born for it, with which they parted ways.

Misty inevitably stayed by Nat's side all the way as they searched with no sign of hope. It only got harder the more tired they got, and none could seem to pound down the large mass of rocks piled up in the cave's corridor.

“Do you think he’s in here?” She asked her, holding one of the lanterns for them both.

“I don’t know.” Nat commented, entirely unsure of it all.

“Do you want him to be?” Misty striked again. This girl just always knew how to push Natalie’s buttons.

“They won’t kill him if you don’t let them.” Misty said in a hushed tone to prevent the others from hearing.

Natalie didn’t say anything, because she truly didn’t know what the hell would happen. If Shauna found him first who knows what she would do? God knows she isn’t waiting for permission.

It seemed impossible, clearing it all out. Also seemed as if there was nothing there anymore, as if a black hole enveloped them.

That was at least all until they heard yelling at the other side, fucking Ben, nonetheless.

Hurriedly the girls followed the sound, meeting with a mix of panicky and drowsy Shauna, Akilah and Van and a very roughed up Ben.

Natalie immediately approached him, pointing the rifle right at his chest, "Sorry coach, you're coming with us." The way she said it was kinda hot, Misty thought, but now was not the time.

The walk back was packed with tension. It was quiet and uncomfortable with occasional grumbles between friends.

Misty was there for Natalie. While she had to police their supposedly psychotic coach, she was there by her side, not letting her do it on her own.

“You’re being really brave, Nat.” She mumbled, rubbing Nat’s arm in a quick, comforting motion.

Natalie stayed quiet again - and Misty didn’t take it badly. The reason is because Nat has a specific look she gets when she’s appreciative or obviously reassured, and in that moment, it was painted all over her face.

Putting Ben down in the animal pen, everyone went off to sleep in terrible exhaustion.

—————

Misty caught sight of Natalie sitting by the fire, not yet putting it out. She had a blanket loosely wrapped around her, shielding her from the slight wind that went along every night. It was a nice change from the constant warmth, like a caressing, soft hand easing another one of their troubles.

Troubles, with which Nat seemed to deal with right now. She was sulking, shoulders hunched with quite a sad look in her eye that you barely see. No resentment, no anger. Simple and utter sadness.

“Nat?” Misty approached slowly, careful not to disturb her in case she wanted to be by herself.

“Yeah?” She answered faintly, keeping her eye on the swaying flames in front of her. Before she got stuck out here, she never noticed how interesting fire was.

“Do you wanna talk?” Misty tried again, wrapping her arms around herself - an action she took when she felt afraid of being ostracized or dismissed yet again. Somehow, she never got used to it.

Natalie simply shook her head, and with a tinge of disappointment, Misty slowly walked back to her hut - before she got stopped, that is.

“You can stay. I mean - will you?” Natalie hoped, raising her head to lock her eyes with Misty’s.

Misty, as if on autopilot, frantically nodded before settling down next to the very bane of her existence. Dramatic, maybe? But then again, she got reject more times then she could count, it only made sense for her to be cautious and fearsome.

The couple of them sat in silence - not sure if it was a comfortable one. It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable either. Only sound that could be heard was the soft cackle of the fire, casting a warm orange glow over their faces.

Misty glanced to the side, taking note of Natalie’s lineaments. She looked gorgeous in this light, a true undiscovered beauty that made Misty write poetry with her eyes. Nat’s features were more prominent, shining with the acedia of her own actions. The girl would always find a way to blame herself.

Then there was Misty. Not studied, but very thought of. Natalie pondered about her, she could feel her gaze burning holes onto the side of her face, unsure and wondering. She felt wrong and embarrassed for the way she felt, yet the more she tried to push it away, the bigger the feeling got. Why Misty Quigley, out of everyone? Why is she the one to make her feel so safe and accepted? How did she make her feel so secure just this morning, with a hug and a couple sweet nothings? How did her presence make her feel calmer?

“Misty I-“ She started, feeling conflicted and confused.

“What is it?” Misty asked with a tinge of unease.

“I don’t know.” Nat whispered, more to herself than the other girl.

Her eyes stayed glued to the scene in front of her, even though her mind ran insane. What was this feeling and why is it what she felt for Travis before they got together? How is it even possible? She dared not say the word that lingered in her thoughts and without better thinking, she lunged forward and pressed her lips firmly against Misty’s.

Neither of them could believe it, really. Misty was surprised to no end, yet she didn’t back away, as if she ever would. It was what she’d dreamt of for months- Natalie. It was what she dreamt of for years- to be seen. The kiss stretched on, going from a soft brush to a deep mess in seconds, it was primal in a way.

Natalie’s fingers locked in Misty’s curls, making her let out a small, involuntary whine as her grip on the blanket tightened.

All good things do come to an end, and this one’s just so happened to be once Nat pulled away.

[gabbrofan27]

when dark bramble lines up with timber hearth juuuust right, you can detect echoes of feldspar’s harmonica with a signalscope. Just echoes, faint, what sound that can escape from the layers of nodes feldspar is buried in.

nobody really scans the skies with their signalscopes, they just know what planets they need to lock the signalscope onto for some of the travelers music. Save for two hearthians

esker found the echo a while back, back when they were keeping active watch on the attlerock’s observation platforms. they stopped taking notes after that day, they weren’t able to hear their harmonica any more times when they tried, and eventually they stopped trying. they didn’t want to get their hopes up

Moraine’s found it a few times, spending most of their time watching and scanning the skies inevitably led to that. They’re not quite sure what it could be, but it scares them. A ghost, their ghost, haunting a long dead planet, trapped inside its maze. Echoes of an instrument whose owner died years ago, bouncing around inside the nodes for years on end. Whatever it is, it’s driven them to avoid dark bramble whenever it comes into view

I wonder when the rest of the founders stopped scanning the stars. Do you think they couldn’t live with the hope anymore? I bet that hope killed them over and over again. I bet if you get one of them drunk enough, they’ll admit that holding onto the hope hurt worse than losing them in the first place

[transformersconfessions]

I don’t understand the criticism that Skybound’s Transformers run is “just shock value” or “edgy.” Are people saying that just because characters are dying and fighting? Because to me, that's not "edgy"—that's war.

This isn’t a story about peace talks or diplomacy. The war has dragged on for too long, and now that they’re stranded on Earth, desperation is pushing both sides to take extreme measures. They’re not posturing anymore—they’re surviving. Choices that might’ve once seemed unthinkable are now necessary.

Take Skywarp being torn apart by Soundwave and Starscream, his body used to revive others through Teletraan-1. Or Optimus reviving Jetfire not because he wants to, but because they need transport. Or Elita choosing not to destroy Shockwave’s Earth-draining machine.

These aren’t examples of unnecessary gore or edge—they’re consequences. Brutal, painful, and inevitable consequences of war. 

Maybe it's because I’m new to the franchise, but the deaths didn’t feel excessive or gratuitous. They gave weight to the story. They showed that no one is safe, that these characters—despite being giant robots—can be wounded, broken, or lost. Both sides are desperate. And it shows.

There’s no easy victory, no light at the end of the tunnel. All they can hope for is to survive another day. To find someone they thought they’d lost. To discover a place untouched by war. To meet someone innocent, someone who hasn’t seen what they’ve seen. Maybe they win a battle. Maybe they just make it out alive. That’s what these stories are made of—those fleeting, fragile victories.

This is a war story. It shows the cost of war. Characters die, not for shock value, but because the stakes are that high. It reminded me of war films and games my brother showed me growing up—harsh, emotional, messy, and deeply human, even when the characters are robotic.

And if Skybound’s run were really just about “being edgy,” we wouldn’t get scenes like Prime transforming to bring joy to a sick child. Or Carly comforting Ultra Magnus. Or Cliffjumper using the remains of his fallen clan to build a new bot, reigniting hope back on Cybertron.

Yes, there’s gore and darkness, but those are part of war. Amid the violence, the Autobots are still portrayed—flawed though they are—as beings who want things to be better. That’s not what you find in a typical "edgy" story, where hope is absent.

Even Spike’s arc could’ve been pure edgelord fodder. His brother is dead, his father was an inattentive alcoholic who ultimately died reviving Optimus, and Spike himself—especially early on—faces a future in a wheelchair. If anything justifies a dark, brooding character arc, it’s that. But the writer smartly holds back, giving us a version of Spike that still has heart and decency despite everything.

One of my favorite scenes was when Spike took Carly to the lake and admitted he couldn't feel anything after learning about his father's death. He’s grieving deeply, grappling with his possible paralysis.

And still, after watching Carly tear into Cliffjumper and seeing Cliffjumper’s crestfallen reaction, Spike gently places a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. That’s not edge. That’s empathy.

Honestly, the so-called “shock value” people complain about didn’t really affect me the way they think it should. Transformers, in this setting, can be repaired—sometimes with enough energon and parts, sometimes not. They’re forced to adapt, sometimes painfully. Look at Starscream—he survives by having a tank grafted onto his frame. Warpath has spare parts bolted to his chest. Optimus loses his arm and replaces it with Megatron’s. Ultra Magnus is little more than an endoskeleton before he's repaired.

The things that really shocked me weren’t the deaths—they were the decisions. The moments that shifted the narrative:

Optimus suplexing Starscream in Issue #1

Finally understanding Duke’s role in Issue #2

Optimus ripping off his own arm in Issue #3

Restoring power to a hospital using the Matrix

Holding Megatron’s cannon and asking, “How do you feel going on the offensive?”

The shocking turn of events for Megatron in Issue #4

Shockwave using whales as biofuel and attempting to bring Cybertron to Earth in Issue #10

Optimus imagining baby Spike with cables, leading to Shockwave’s death

Devastator hitting Bruticus with an RKO in issue #18

Megatron’s return—expected, but still powerful

None of this is cheap shock. These are character-defining moments, powerful developments that made me feel awe, grief, hope, and even joy.

I loved this story so much I branched into the rest of the Energon Universe—Void Rivals, G.I. Joe, and the miniseries. The interconnected storytelling blew me away. For the first time, I wanted to own physical copies instead of just reading digitally. That’s how much it hit me.

Void Rivals has become like a second Transformers book to me. I love the space opera tone, the characters Darak and Solila, and the worldbuilding. I’m dying to know what Springer and Hot Rod will do next—and I’m really curious about Skuxxoid.

It started slow, sure, but it’s picking up fast. With the Quintessons entering the scene, Pythona searching for Cybertron, and Zerta Trion or Beta sharing stories of the past, the mystery and stakes keep growing.

I’ve also been enjoying the Duke miniseries and the G.I. Joe comic. I never thought I’d care about military guys reacting to alien robots, but Duke’s fascination with Starscream and his mission to uncover the truth about these beings has really grabbed me. And now, with a familiar Transformers character set to appear in Issue #6 of G.I. Joe, I’m even more excited to see what’s coming next.

More than anything, I hope we get to see the four central figures—Optimus Prime, Darak, Solila, and Duke—all meet someday. That would be incredible.

Sorry for the long rant, but I keep seeing people dismissing this story as “edgy” or “shock for the sake of shock,” and criticizing the art or the use of G1 designs just because the creator enjoys them. Honestly, I’m just tired of it.

Because what I see is not edge for edge’s sake. I see a raw, emotional, beautifully drawn war story, filled with characters making impossible choices—and still, somehow, holding onto their spark.

*

[the-fuck-did-u-say]

Percy x Lee I hear you say...

Any thoughts and headcanons for them?

Ok ok my first ask… totally not panicking…

This is a ship I most definitely haven’t thought through yet and I don’t really post about it, but this is easily one of my otps. So this is most likely going to sound rather scattered and not very detailed. But even so this is kinda a long one by my standards so do bear with me.

I’d love to think that Lee got the absolute worst first impression of him. He’s best friends with the twins after all, so it’s almost inevitable. The literal minute their friendship started on Hogwarts Express the twins were talking about Percy. Lee, in his young excited 11 year old mind, just goes with their flow while chipping in with tidbits of his own life every now and then. At this point all three of them are already pretty smug that they’ve already made friends.

The entire train ride Percy’s been avoiding the twins (understandably). He’s been dreading the day they come to Hogwarts and is just trying to stop shit from hitting the fan before they even make it off the train. And if they do get into something, it won’t be his mess to clear up so long as he stays away.

It basically stays that way for the entire sorting ceremony and the first week or so. Of course Percy can’t fully avoid the twins without nothing short of a restraining order, so they do have a few conversations in which so he tries to end as quickly as possible. But during those short meetings Lee is getting absolutely shoved down Percy’s throat.

The same thing is happening to Lee, but instead of being painted as someone fun and chill and interesting, like how he’s been described to Percy, Fred and George are telling him the exact opposite (boring, uptight, boring again for emphasis). But it’s still that hazy feeling where they’re still getting used to school and magic and all that. Like no matter what blood type you make him, Hogwarts is majestic. Why focus on your best friends’ brother, especially since they’ve so explicitly stated how uninteresting they are?

But then something wakes him up from his daydream. The prank. (Dun dun dun)

I’m not %100 decided on what the prank actually is, because note that this is still a half baked idea I’ve become obsessed with. Just know it was big. Lee knew they were planning something but he wasn’t in any rush to ask. He assumed it was just another harmless petty everyday thing that they were up to. How wrong he was.

He goes on a walk to explore the school grounds after dinner and gets back right before curfew, to sounds of screaming in his ear and cheering in the common room. Cheering all around the castle, for that matter. The twins had pulled something in the Great Hall, something to cement their role as the resident troublemakers. Their very first prank of many to come.

Sound familiar? This is what Fred and George were referencing when they made that dramatic exit dropping out of school. They wanted to end the way they started. But anyway-

It didn’t take long to figure out the prank was on Percy, no less, though he was nowhere in sight. Everyone’s patting the twins on the back and congratulating them, even Charlie and Bill, who’re happy they’ve settled alright. Bill does seem somewhat concerned but still convinced it’s all in good fun. He asks Charlie where Percy is and he offhandedly mentions that he’s barricaded himself in his dorm to “sulk”.

Lee laughs along with everyone else but at the same time he’s confused af. Percy couldn’t be that pure and holy that he doesn’t even retaliate? Or even respond at all?

(Right let’s wrap this up, everything’s somewhat unclear from now I’m sorry 😔)

So Lee starts paying more attention to Percy’s actions and he’s even more fascinated than ever. His eyes had always lingered slightly longer on Percy, but he’s never really noticed it before now. And soon, he starts noticing more. He’s completely memorised the brisk way he walks. The way his mouth tightens whenever he hears the whispers behind his back. Along with other things.

Of course those other things really didn’t help when the hormones came knocking on his door, and atp he’s having a crisis. He’s never had a problem with gay men, he’s just never thought he was… one of them. (Not quite internalised homophobia, just straight up bafflement) But it’s getting more and more likely. He starts looking at pretty boys the way he looks at pretty girls, though neither the same way he looks at Percy.

And at the age of 12, Lee Jordan comes out as bisexual.

He’s now accepted his raging crush on Percy. He’s definitely liked an other few people (exhibit A, Angelina). With those types of relationships he’s very flirty and unserious, (as we can see in canon) and has had one relationship throughout school (idk who with), which he quickly ended because he realised his crush wasn’t going away and it wasn’t fair on his partner. He’s no longer in a crisis, just a numb pain knowing his love is probably unrequited. Even if it wasn’t, no way in hell would Fred and George allow it.

And back to Percy! He… hasn’t noticed. He still sees Lee as his younger brothers’ best friend. Someone brings up the idea of Lee having a crush on Percy (which gave Lee a heart attack btw when he finds out) and Percy just waves it off. In an “I guess that’s kinda sweet” and “I don’t really believe it” way, devastating Lee.

After the war, where the age gap is less relevant, that lovesick git FINALLY confesses and Percy is like “wait you’re serious”. And then Lee kind of accidentally-on-purpose seduces him over the next few months? Basically Lee making genuine moves on him and Percy seeing the appeal? It’s really hard to explain and I know I’m wording this poorly 😭

Everyone’s reaction would be hilarious, especially Fred and George’s. And of course I want them to find out last. And be outraged that everyone kept it a secret from them.

But this is only one version of it and honestly it’s just entertaining no matter the context. This is such a rare pair (7works on ao3, five where they’re the main ship), nothing is impossible, these are just bad Ideas.

Thank if you made it through this long ass post and sorry this is kinda late :/

[suth-sardian]

V-Day! D-2

[shadowglens]

i do still think datv feels very … disconnected from the previous trilogy, and that parts of it don’t really Feel like dragon age to me. that being said, i’m still having a fun time

[lameow-l]

( he also says smth like “you might think im going to go to natlan next” before this i just didn’t take screenshots)

1) wtf liben?? somehow you’re smarter than all akademiya’s researchers and you’re here giving me primogems for fowl and 2 apples??

2) SO?? is our next adventure not in natlan but related to star rail?? maybe in the transitioning patch leading to natlan!!! are they gonna finally reveal traveler’s origin.. or maybe say that akivili once visited teyvat?? that the leylines are actually affected by a stellaron or a stellaron in itself

and since everyone is speculating (idk if it’s actual leaks) that natlan’s archon is a himeko, maybe it’s related to her and that her fate is to be a nameless or smth

like all im imagining is a synchronized patch between the two games that’s the exact same story but from different perspectives.. i mean genshin patch releases are only 7 days earlier than star rail (after they shortened 1.4 in hsr) and they both update on wednesdays

they could pull it off right?? riiiight?!

[moreaujeans]

little brother unearthed one of my old main sketchbooks and. hoo boy

[salemlunaa]

𓇼 DON’T WORRY, YOUR SUCCESS IS INEVITABLE 𓇼

There’s nothing you can do to stop the fact that you’re going to live your dream life.

˚˖𓍢ִִ໋🌊🦈˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚.

If you’re down in the dumps about still being where you don’t want to be, Remember it’s already done. Take yourself to the wish fulfilled and stay there.

My favourite analogy is The Train Between Two Cities. I saw this a while ago {whether it was pinterest or reddit, i have no clue} and it really opened my eyes. I’ll pick two cities like i did in a post a while ago. Let’s say you’re on a train to Milan from Paris. Once you get on that train you know being in Milan is inevitable, you’re basically already there. No matter what, you can read on the train, talk to other passengers, eat to your heart’s content, no matter what, you’re going to end up in Milan.

You are on the train. No matter what the 3d shows you, it’s inevitable, you will end up in your dream life. This analogy has really helped me to remain in the sabbath state aka the state of the wish fulfilled when it comes to any new desires I may have. They are no longer desires they are just mine, they’re yours.

This analogy can be applied to vacations too, once you get on the plane to Greece, you’re practically already in Greece. You don’t doubt for a second no matter what that the next time you step off the plane you’ll be in Greece, in fact, you’re not even thinking about the how, you just know that the pilot is taking you where you paid to be. You sit there without thinking, your just there, eating, talking to whoever, reading a book, staring at your new aeroplane crush, you don’t care about the how or why you’re just enjoying the ride because you know that trip in Greece is yours.

There’s already apart of your mind soaking up the mediterranean sun, with a colourful drub in your had. That’s why you’re so excited. There is a part of your consciousness already living the life you want, there is a part of you there. Take whatever method you’re using on a pedestal, whether it be inducing the void state, waking up with everything with SATS, or whatever, it’s shouldn’t matter to you so much because you know it’s yours already.

Once you take it off a pedestal it will be 100% easier for you. Especially pure consciousness, it’s just a measly meditation when you aren’t obsessing over it, and you’ll realise that. It’s not the ticket to your dream life when you’re already there. Why would you crave a ticket to a place you’re already at?

The train will stop at Milan NO MATTER WHAT. The plane will land in Greece NO MATTER WHAT. Your desired life is yours NO MATTER WHAT.

It’s inevitable, just place your awareness there.

YOU’RE LIVING THE DREAM ALREADY, RELAX

[mariasont]

OKAY OKAY OKAY this might seem really simple but i love the simple stuff

spence x reader

spence is just yapping about whatever, the quantum mechanics of coffee beans, as you said in one of your posts i think, and reader just cuts him off by kissing him IN FRONT OF EVERYONE on the jet.. and everyone’s there like.. oh! im imagining he kisses reader like he kissed lila in that pool scene IM FERAL. yes he kisses back.. and then the rest of it’s just garcia being a squeaking happy person and hotch and morgan are like “that’s my boy” but rossi and jj are just gagged

please im like

Reid the Room - S.R

spencer reid has never met a bad time to discuss aviation disasters. and before your survival instincts can stop you, you're kissing him just to make it stop

pairings: spencer reid x reader warnings: gn!reader (correct me if im wrong), secret relationship, pda, mild workplace inappropriateness lol, teasing/banter, spencer reid being spencer reid, mentions of plane crashes! wc: 0.9k

The words don’t just come from Spencer, they pour — fast and inevitable, like water rolling down slick stone, shaping everything in its path. You’ve spent months memorizing the subtleties of it, the tiny furrow between his brows when he’s thinking too hard, his fingers twitching mid-sentence, like even his body can’t quite keep pace with his brilliance.

He becomes more animated when he’s passionate. It should be illegal, you think, for someone to be this smart and this pretty at once. If the team ever noticed how intently you watched him, they’d know. They’d know everything. 

“— the likelihood of a plane crash is about one in 11 million, but what’s really fascinating is that 95.7% of people actually survive crashes, assuming they’re seated within the five rows of an emergency exit. Though, of course, the probability of surviving depends on factors like impact angle and —”

Morgan leans forward, bracing an arm against his knee, eyes locked on Spencer with the patience of a man debating the ethics of shutting someone up by violent force.“Hey, man, you ever hear of a bad time? We are currently on a plane. Read the room.”

For once, you don’t leap to his defense. No well-timed he’s just trying to educate us, Morgan, or an indulgent I think it’s interesting thrown in to buffer the onslaught. 

Instead, you glance at him, eyebrows lifting into something dangerously close to betrayal. Because, yeah. This might actually be one of those times. One of the Morgan is completely justified in wanting to tape Spencer’s mouth shut for the next four hours.

“I have heard of a bad time, but the concept is largely subjective. What you’re experiencing is cognitive bias, your brain associating this discussion with immediate danger because of proximity. In reality, the likelihood of a crash remains the same whether I mention it or not, so from a purely logical standpoint, this is no worse a time than any other.”

Morgan drags a hand down his face.

“...In fact, not talking about it could be considered the real danger. Avoidance leads to complacency, and complacency leads to fatal mistakes. Did you know that the most survivable crash positions involve bracing at a 60-degree angle? Although, of course, survivability depends largely on the structural integrity of the fuselage upon impact, and in cases of explosive decompression —”

It happens before you can think about — before the gnawing, frantic need to make him stop talking about plane crashes while you are actively inside one overrides all rational thought.

You turn, grab Spencer’s collar, and yank him in, your own common sense careening into a tailspin somewhere at 30,000 feet.

The moment your lips collide, Spencer’s entire body goes rigid, frozen mid-sentence, mid-thought, mid-existence. His mouth is still forming a syllable that dies in a half-swallowed exhale against your tongue. His hands, previously conducting an invisible orchestra of statistical doom, trap in mid-air like he forgot what hands are.

But he catches up fast. One second he’s buffering and the next his fingers twitch — once, twice — and then lock onto your waist like he’s just decided physics no longer applies and you need to be closer. It starts semi-tentatively, inhaling against your lips, breath uneven, before he presses deeper. A lit match dropped straight into gasoline.

You pull back, breath coming fast, Spencer still leaning in like he isn’t done yet. “Anyway. What were you saying?”

Spencer stares, lips parted, pupils blown wide. For a second, he seems to genuinely try to answer, searching his mind for whatever deeply important fact he was so adamant about a minute ago. “...I don’t remember.”

The jet is quiet — too quiet — and that’s when it hits you. 

You kissed Spencer. In front of everyone.

Something cold and hot spreads through you, and suddenly, your limbs don’t seem to be operating under your jurisdiction anymore. Do something. Anything. Breathe. Blink. Move. But nope, your brain is still buffering, and Spencer – dear, sweet Spencer — looks just as dazed, which means absolutely no one is saving you from this.

You could just… not turn around. Avoid whatever is waiting for you. Live the rest of your life facing forward like a malfunctioning animatronic. But the weight of twelve pairs of eyes boring into your back is impossible to ignore.

So, with all the grace of a person walking into their own execution, you turn.

Garcia has both hands glued to her mouth, body vibrating like she’s one second away from either screeching at a frequency only dogs can hear or launching herself into the air like a bottle rocket. Her eyes are huge, pupils dilated. JJ, meanwhile, is just staring. Frozen, lips parting as if she wants to say something but has no idea where to start.

And then there’s Hotch.

You swallow hard as you meet his gaze, expecting some level of seriousness, some stern professional acknowledgment of the wildly inappropriate display that just took place — but instead, he just exhales slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose like a man who is simply too tired for this.

And then, breaking the tension with the ease of a wrecking ball, Morgan lets out a low, satisfied chuckle. “Damn. I knew there was something going on, but damn.”

After the initial shock wore off — and after Garcia had texted Emily a summary in all caps, Morgan had called you both a lost cause, and Rossi had actually applauded — things mostly went back to normal. Mostly. Except now Spencer absolutely knew what he was doing.

And later that night, as you sat beside Spencer on the couch, he turned to you, utterly serious, and murmured, “You know, in the U.S., the majority of residential break-ins occur between 10 a.m. and 3 p.m. —” 

You groaned, yanked him in, and cut him off the same way you had earlier. He made a very pleased noise.

💌 masterlist taglist has been disbanned! if you want to get updates about my writings follow and turn notifications on for my account strictly for reblogging my works! @mariasreblogs

[mommyameliestorycorner]

Reasons Why ALL Boys Belong in Diapers

Boys are messy creatures. From their sticky fingers to their questionable aim in the bathroom, boys have never been good at keeping things clean. A diaper just simplifies the whole process—no more "oops, I missed" or "it was just an accident!"

Moms and girlfriends are already cleaning up after them. Ever noticed how boys conveniently “forget” how to do laundry, dishes, or pick up their own socks? They already expect someone else to handle their messes—diapers just make it official!

They think farting is funny. So let’s see how they like a full diaper. Boys love to giggle about their own gas, but let’s see how funny it is when there’s more than just air in their diaper. Oh, what's that? Suddenly it's "not so funny"? Thought so!

They have the attention span of a goldfish. Oh, look! A ball! A car! A flashing light! Boys get so distracted by the simplest things—who has time to actually remember to use the potty when there are way more important things to focus on? Best to keep them safely diapered so they don’t make a mess when they inevitably forget.

They have NO shame. Boys will scratch, burp, and do all sorts of gross things in public without a second thought. If they have no problem acting like babies in front of everyone, why not dress them like one too?

They never know when to stop playing. Boys will run around, roughhouse, and completely ignore their obvious potty signals until—oopsie! Too late! Rather than trusting them with big boy underwear (as if!), it’s just safer to keep them padded so they can go whenever they inevitably lose track of time.

They’re so lazy. Let’s be honest, even if a boy could make it to the potty, would he really want to? Getting up, stopping what he's doing, actually aiming—so much effort! It's just easier to let him go in his diaper like the helpless little thing he is.

They still act like babies, so they might as well wear what babies wear. Boys whine when they don’t get their way, throw tantrums over the smallest things, and sulk when they lose. If they’re going to act like fussy little toddlers, they should be dressed like one too—diapers included!

They hate being told what to do. Which makes it even more fun! The best part? They’ll huff and puff, but there’s nothing they can do about it. They can squirm all they want—at the end of the day, they’ll still be right where they belong: safely diapered.

Deep down, they know they belong in diapers. At the end of the day, all their silly protests and puffed-up bravado don’t change the truth—boys just aren’t meant for potty training. They’re much better off being padded, protected, and properly taken care of. And while that will never change, their diapers certainly will—again and again and again

Please reblog I you agree, that all boys should be in diapers 24/7! Thank you @all4thedips for your suggestions and help.

[kaiijo]

ok. bllk and jealousy rate. how jealous can they get over their gf and what do they do to cope lmao

HOW JEALOUS IS HE? — [BLUE LOCK]

characters: isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, kunigami rensuke, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, oliver aiku content: gn! reader (request says gf but reader is gender neutral) notes: some of these are lowkey toxic, minor spoilers for kunigami’s character arc, nagi is taller than reader

most jealous: bachira, rin, reo 

bachira meguru ✶

bachira has many, many insecurities. growing up isolated and without many friends, he is more possessive of those he’s close to, which obviously includes you. he just doesn’t want to lose you, which manifests itself in jealousy over anyone he perceives as a threat to your relationship

bachira gets really clingy when he’s jealous. he thinks that inserting himself into the situation, sometimes literally wedging himself between you and the other person. he usually chooses to drape himself over you, nuzzling into your neck and speaking low enough that only you hear, trying his best to divert your attention. third-wheeling is pretty uncomfortable for the other person, especially with the smiling sneer bachira’s shooting at them, so they make a quick irish exit 

itoshi rin ✶

an egoist to his very core, rin can get very jealous. while he’s very sure of himself in nearly every other part of his life, he knows that he is not an ideal partner a lot of the time, though he’ll never admit it. he’s not the most expressive or the most patient, and he’s sure that there are better partners for you out there. 

when rin’s jealous, it’s a silent but deadly thing. like when he’s locked in on the ball in a game, his focus you and his ‘competitor’ is unwavering. he stalks over to stand behind you, his chest bumping right up against your back, and he snarls, “what the hell do you want, you mediocrity?” usually the other person backs off after seeing rin’s bone-chilling glare but if they’re bold enough to answer back, rin bares his teeth and is poised to strike. it’s probably best if you diffuse the situation quickly before it gets uglier  

mikage reo ✶

we already know how jealous reo was over nagi so it’s safe to say that he’s definitely very jealous. having been bored with the world and other people for so long, he’s thrilled when you two get together. it makes his very protective of you and he wants to be one of the most, if not the most, special person in your life. 

reo can go a couple of ways when he feels jealous over someone else but it think his primary response is to tear down the person methodically. he tilts his head a little, looks the person up and down, and notes everything about their appearance — hair, skin, clothes (including brand and cost) and criticizes every little thing. it’s a strategic move in his opinion, using observational skills and knowledge he had given his upbringing to pick apart the other person. he also might make some underhanded comment that includes that he has a black card 

less jealous: isagi, kunigami, sae 

isagi yoichi ✶

he definitely gets jealous from time to time but he doesn’t feel the need to act on it a lot. he’s pretty mature and for the most part level-headed (plus his ability to piece together future events helps him keep his cool a lot). this doesn’t mean that he isn’t jealous 

when isagi is jealous, he’s sulky. he won’t take immediate action and watch from afar, arms crossed and a little pouty. he tries to look as dejected and as ‘wet-cat pathetic’ as possible to make you feel bad and come over to comfort him. when you inevitably do, looping your arm through his and kissing his cheek, he can’t help but smirk at the other person like a cat who go the cream 

kunigami rensuke ✶

i debated where to put kunigami since there are ‘two sides’ to him — pre- and post-wildcard. pre-wild card kunigami is definitely a lot less bothered; he trusts you 100% and is 100% confident and secure in your relationship and himself. post-wild card kunigami is less chill and more forceful. he’s not a hero anymore but even as he plays a more ‘villainous’ role in soccer, he won’t cross that line in your relationship. he’s still very secure in you and himself, but he’s more protective of your relationship. definitely a ‘i trust you/us but it’s other people i’m worried about’ kind of guy

when pre-wild card kunigami got jealous, he won’t act in the moment and will talk to you about it afterwards, in a private setting. open lines of communication were important to him and working out problems like this. post-wildcard kunigami is all stormy looks and intimidation. like rin, he also stands behind you but in less actively aggressive way and more just to be threatening. it’s 95% effective and the 5% of times it doesn’t work, kunigami is not above muscling the other person away 

itoshi sae ✶

i thought about putting sae in the ‘most jealous’ section but i just think that he is someone whose jealousy simmer just beneath his apathetic surface. he sees most other people as beneath him and believes that they are not worthy of speaking to you, let alone hitting on you, but because he’s sees them as so beneath him, he can’t be bothered half the time to do anything since they’re simply not worth it. he gets the most jealous when it’s people who he can potentially view as equals, like other professional athletes 

when he’s jealous, sae literally just pretends they don’t exist, only talking to you. if the other person tries to interject, he sends them a sideways glare — the only acknowledgment of their existence — and then turns away to continue whatever conversation, suggesting that you both get away from the other person as quickly as possible. if ignoring the person doesn’t work, sae doesn’t shy away from spewing vitriol at the other person

least jealous: nagi, oliver, michael

nagi seishiro ✶

simply put, being jealous is a hassle to nagi. it makes him too hot and too annoyed for him to want to feel it so he suppresses the feeling a lot. nagi’s height is already intimidating enough for most people so they don’t approach you when they see you two together but that isn’t a deterrent to everyone

when nagi gets jealous, he does one of two things: just gives a thousand-yard stare that freaks people out or he gets whiny and clingy. his stare is eerie and silent, and the lightness of his eyes doesn’t help it. he towers over you like some cryptid companion. when he gets whiny and clingy, nagi tugs at your sleeve and asks drily, “can we go yet? why are you still talking to them?”

oliver aiku ✶

sigh… oliver is undoubtedly someone who thinks and knows he’s the shit. with so many women and men alike fawning over everything about him, his ego is through the roof. he has very little worry about you leaving him for someone else. honestly, he finds it amusing most of the time when someone attempt to draw you away from him, and let’s it play out a lot for his own entertainment. of course, he’ll intervene if it’s making you uncomfortable but he also believes you can handle yourself 

when oliver gets jealous, he acts as casual as possible. he’s friendly towards the other person and but it’s not hard to uncover that it’s all fake, whether it’s from the glint in his eye or the way his smile is stiff and forced. common tells when he gets jealous is that he pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek or he clenches his teeth and inhales softly but sharply.  he employs the good old tactic of calling the other person the wrong name and making all kind of underhanded comments that slowly chip at their nerves. (“haruya? haruki? oh! you’re haruto! right, right, you know, they’ve never mentioned you before! crazy, huh?”) 

michael kaiser ✶

kaiser in german literally means ‘emperor,’ and it’s no secret that kaiser views himself as one. similar to sae, he see himself as so above others that he’s not even bothered by other people hitting on you. it displeases him greatly, sure, but these cockroaches will never be able to steal you from him so why should an emperor deal with the plebians? the only time that ever happens is when a peasant is particularly forceful and then, kaiser intervenes

when he gets jealous, kaiser puts on a show. if there’s one thing about him, he’s a bit of a drama queen. he will absolutely posture and puff out his chest at the offending person, looking down his nose arrogantly and smirking. he makes a big display of wrapping himself around you, gripping firmly at your hips and saying, “liebling, you’re very charitable to entertain this insect, but it’s time to end this ruse.”

[flwrkid14]

The Marriage Pact (But Make It Sabotage)

ahh tysm for 500 followers!!! i never thought so many people would actually like all my silly ideas! <3

Tim and Danny, somewhere in their early twenties, jokingly make a marriage pact: if they’re both single by the time they’re in their late twenties, they’ll just marry each other. It’s lighthearted, it’s casual—just two best friends making promises for a future they’re totally not worried about.

Except… it gets a little weird.

Danny gets set up on a blind date one Saturday. Tim, the supportive best friend he is, casually mentions there’s a case he could really use Danny’s help on. Nothing serious, of course—just something that totally can’t wait until Sunday. Danny, being the responsible friend he is, cancels the date.

Tim, meanwhile, gets roped into a coffee meetup with one of Steph’s friends. It’s not really a date, but it could turn into one. Or at least, it could’ve, if Danny hadn’t texted Tim about that new bakery he’s been dying to try. “We should go! Like, now. Before all the good pastries are gone.” Tim, naturally, reschedules the coffee meetup. After all, Danny takes priority, right?

It becomes a pattern.

Danny’s coworkers try to set him up with someone they think is his type. “Oh, sorry,” Danny says, “I already promised Tim I’d help him with his tech upgrades tonight.”

Tim gets invited to a fancy gala where he might meet someone. Danny shows up with two tickets to a concert Tim mentioned liking a month ago. “Come on, you deserve a break.”

Neither of them realizes what’s happening, at least not consciously. To them, it’s just normal. They’re best friends. Of course, they’re going to prioritize each other. Of course, they’d rather hang out together than with some random stranger. Of course, no one else really gets them the way they get each other.

Their friends, however, are losing their minds.

Steph is convinced Tim and Danny are already dating and just haven't told anyone yet. Tucker and Sam are taking bets on how long this can possibly last before one of them snaps. Cass is tempted to lock them in a room until they sort out their feelings.

The kicker? Tim and Danny both think the other one doesn’t feel the same. They’re sabotaging potential love interests out of sheer self-preservation because the idea of watching the other fall in love with someone else is unbearable. But they can’t say anything, because what if it ruins their friendship? What if the marriage pact is all they get?

So, they keep pretending it’s fine. Danny keeps canceling dates for “missions” that could definitely wait. Tim keeps skipping events to spend time with Danny.

The late twenties deadline creeps closer. Everyone else is waiting for the inevitable implosion. Tim and Danny, oblivious as ever, are just… biding their time.

[lovieku]

DECEMBER ⋆ 정국

being with jeongguk is a gift in itself. this christmas, you’ll show him your gratitude. do whatever is on his list.

⋆⁺₊❅. 3/6 from christmas & chill

pairing dilf!jk x gf!reader

genre smut, fluff, established relationship

warnings jk 31 | oc 22, exhibitionism, public sex kinda, breeding kink, mirror sex, oral (f receiving), condomless p in v sex, oc is on birth control but she won’t be anymore after this, these tags back to back are making me lose it, yeah they’re pretty horny if you couldn’t tell

word count 5.7k

author's note oki this is literally porn with plot but what do you expect me to do with dilf jk in my hands

banner by the perfect @awrkive ⊹₊⟡⋆

“What’s on your Christmas wishlist, doll?”

“I want… I think I want a baby. And then—”

Jeongguk snorts in that way he does when he wants you to think he’s unimpressed, but really he’s just trying to think of something to shut you up, wheels turning in his head, scrambling before your teasing has an unwanted effect that might undo him.

On his couch, he pulls you closer to him as you giggle in his neck, your figure curled up in his embrace, and he caresses the side of your thigh in an impossibly gentle pattern. He’s heat incarnate, a living furnace outdoing even the fireplace softly cracking and reflecting its warmth on your faces in the dimly lit room.

His hand squeezes once, twice, then he finds you ear with his mouth, “Don’t say that.”

You pull back just enough to look at him with the biggest grin, “What’s on your list then, huh?”

Your boyfriend pretends to think it over with unusual indecision, tilting his head up to the ceiling dramatically and leaving his collar bones exposed, giving you the opportunity to further bury yourself in his warmth. Peppering small pecks onto his neck, you sigh into the comfort.

“Since we’re going in that direction,” his low tone scratches his throat and vibrates against your lips, pooling like heat where it always does when he’s this close. He pulls you impossibly tighter to his chest, mouth back to your ear just to whisper with that teasing lilt of his, “I’ve always wanted to fuck you in a public space. With people outside, you know.”

Even with your heart skipping and rolling down the tallest hill, landing right in your lower belly, you hum, feigning nonchalance, though your sarcastic nod doesn’t fool either of you. He looks down at you with a wicked smirk, one point ahead after rendering you speechless. You still try, “Yeah?”

Jeongguk doesn’t miss the chance and strikes gold, “Mhm. And I also want to give you my babies.”

“Shut the fuck up, Jeon. I’m serious.”

The older man’s laughter rings out, light and boyish in a way that doesn’t match the words he let out, nor the feel of his rough hands roaming your body. Even more when his unrelenting fingers find their way to your sides. They press in gently at first, testing. But then he really starts to tickle.

You flinch, stubbornly clamping your lips into a tight line, muscles tensing as you fight the inevitable. You think you’re determined enough not to give him the satisfaction of hearing you break, but when he moves toward your armpits, it’s over.

Your eyes squeeze shut, shoulders twitching, but it’s your mouth that betrays you first. A sharp snort escapes you and is only joined by more and more breathy giggles, air knocked out of you, “Jeongguk, no!”

His grin widens at your plea, voice mockingly stern but tone playful and sweet, “Why are you being such a brat to your old man, huh? So disrespectful.”

You shriek, squeal, the sound dissolving into waves of laughter that shake your entire body, now sprawled on the sofa and desperately trying to run away from his touch. You almost make it. Almost. But Jeongguk is faster, pinning you on the couch and tightening his hold, knees digging on either side of your hips.

The air wheezes out of you when his lips join the tickling on your neck, nipping and kissing between your gasping laughter, his own still lingering like it’s contagious. Your body twists instinctively, “Stop!”

He moves up, nose brushing against yours as he lets his voice drop even lower in a warning, “You know what to say.”

It wasn’t fair. You know what he wants to hear, but your pride digs its heels in, even as you pant for room to breathe. You struggle under him, half-heartedly trying to push his hands away, but when his hands find the sensitive spot behind your knees you just can’t help the way it spills out of you in a panicked laugh, “Sorry, sorry, sorry!”

Jeongguk finally relents, hands falling away as he collapses beside you, joining your breathless amusement. That little chant is the unspoken rule between you two, the one surefire way to end his tickle wars.

The room is silent for the small moment it takes you to even your pumping heart and slowly level your panting. Jeongguk cuddles to your side, body molding effortlessly against yours, and as his arm tightens around your waist, you speak against the space of his chest he’s pressing you into, “I could make both happen for you.”

There’s no drop of subject on your part, your words resounding in the quiet made of your moderating breaths.

Jeongguk snorts again, shuffling down and muffling his low hum in your neck. It’s his way of playing coy and pretending not to take you seriously, but you can feel his grip getting rougher.

Only when you swat him does he shift to look up at you, chin resting lazily between your breasts and lashes fluttering in exaggerated innocence, just like his words, “And how would you do that?”

“Yoongi’s Christmas party next week.”

Jeongguk’s brow quirks upward, “You want me to fuck you with all my friends outside? Didn’t you say you were scared of meeting them?”

It’s your turn to stifle a laugh, lips twitching as you turn your head away in sudden embarrassment. He leaves featherlight pecks along your jaw to quieten his own chuckles, but it only coaxes a smile out of you. You return to him with a soft expression playing on your flushed face, long dimples carving your cheeks, “I did, yes. But it’s only because I want their approval.”

Jeongguk stills for just a second as he studies you. The moment he spots the faintest flicker of genuine worry in the subtle twitch of your brows, his teasing front is thrown completely out of the window.

“Oh, my baby,” he cups your face with both hands, cradling you like his most precious possession, meeting your widening eyes when he tilts your chin. “They’ll love you, okay? It’s about time they meet the reason I’ve been the happiest I’ve ever felt in years.”

The blush creeping up your neck is inevitable, especially when his hand drifts downward, fingers resting lightly on your stomach and moving in soothing circles. A gesture so small yet telling, of how attuned he is to your every shift and need, even the ones you don’t voice.

It’s been almost a year since you and Jeongguk made things official, and the journey has been marked by slow, steady steps. No rush, no racing. Time has felt pliant, stretching out to meet you both at a pace that felt unforced. It gives you room to grow and deepen the bond that only the two of you share, unburdened by the weight of outside pressure.

Both of you have been careful, almost cautious about walking longer distances. Not out of doubt, but out of respect for what you’re building together. It’s not hesitation, it’s intention.

You fucking love this man, more fully than you even thought possible. And you’re more than sure that he’s the one, making all the waiting and searching worth it.

You’ve grown just enough to understand not everyone will accept your dynamic as easily as you’ve come to. You wanted it to feel true — to be true — between the two of you before inviting the outside world into it.

Jeongguk is 31. Successful, experienced, and carrying the scars of a rough divorce. You’re 22, still a student, scraping together what you can to get through each month, too focused on textbooks and exams to know anything about adulthood yet.

By all accounts, your paths should never have crossed in any meaningful way. Yet, they did. You found each other, and you blossomed to love one another. What seemed complicated came down to a feeling so intricate and achingly simple.

There’s no denying love. There’s no grand, pragmatic solution for it. You can’t push it aside just because it doesn’t fit into neat societal boxes. And you can’t push him away.

Still, you’re not blind to how others might see it. Outsiders, with judgments and assumptions, could scoff and accuse you of chasing wealth, or sneer at him and reduce his intentions to shallow desires for a younger distraction.

Those tired, clichéd narratives miss the way your brain quietens when he’s near, his laughter filling gaps in your life you didn’t know were empty. They couldn’t be further from the truth, from what truly binds you together. Love.

And, well, sex. The sex is fucking great. Makes you wonder how you ever lived without it before him.

“The horniest, too,” you quip, deflecting from the fleeting vulnerability with a playful smirk that has Jeongguk groaning, rolling his eyes the same way he’s shifting beneath you to effortlessly maneuver you until you’re lying on top of him.

Jeongguk tilts his head back, dark eyes narrowing in mock challenge as he jumps between your face and the smirk that refuses to fade. His own grin is barely concealed, and his voice drops to a familiar low timbre, “Don’t try anything funny, doll.”

“I’m just saying… I’ll do whatever is on your list.”

────⋆｡˚❆˚ ｡⋆────

Spending your first Christmas wrapped in the warmth of your boyfriend’s presence leaves no room for anything but a jaw-breaking smile that swells your heart. The kind that doesn’t fade, no matter how much your cheeks ache, and twingles with the soft glow of the lights strung around the room. Especially when you get to discover a new side of Jeongguk, one that blooms brighter the more he’s surrounded by his closest friends.

You can see the love in the crinkle of his eyes when he laughs and lets it resound freely, how he eats comfortably without any of the reserved mannerism he sometimes carries in public, the way he tosses out teasing remarks and takes them just as easily. It all makes you feel less nervous, and it soothes the anxiety you’d been carrying.

Still, you stick to his side, either with your leg brushing against his under the table or your fingers intertwining in a touch that seeks for comfort. Though with the hours stretching, you find there’s no real reason to feel intimidated.

Everyone welcomes you like you’ve always been part of Jeongguk, and they were just waiting for you to step into the missing space beside him. It’s in the easy smiles they offer, the warmth in their laughter as they include you in their conversations without hesitation. You settle in that place with sheepish smiles, a soft voice chiming in here and there, and the quiet admiration that fills you each time your gaze follows Jeongguk’s every movement is enough for his friends to see he’s in good hands.

But you can’t ignore the thought that keeps making your head spin every time Jeongguk casually rests a hand on your exposed thigh, fingers digging into the skin like a slow burn.

You might blame it on the baby fever that’s been clinging to you since earlier, making you warm and sugary with emotions, when you witnessed him distracting Yoongi’s daughter from a tantrum while having her sit on his lap, a gentle hand on her back. Which has to be chalked up to your ovulation phase.

Or maybe you can just blame it entirely on him and the sultry voice he used to confess the dirtiest wish on his list nights ago.

After he did, you’ve hinted at it an unhealthy amount of times, more than you’d care to admit, and it always ended the same way. You, folded in half on his bed, strong arms gripping your hips as he rutted into you with an urgency that bordered on desperation and that had you both unraveling with pleasured wails.

It’s become your own desire more than his at this point. An all-consuming thought that refuses to be brushed aside, especially today, on this occasion. The perfect occasion to make it happen. Fuck, get a grip.

The command feels laughably weak in the face of temptation. How could you resist when Jeongguk looks like he does? He’s draped in a warm, Christmas-red sweater that’s practically begging you to be peeled off, its sleeves rolled just enough to reveal glimpses of the tattoos that snake up his forearm, and enough for your thighs to press together. His hair is freshly cut and styled. And on top of everything, he smells deliciously. His scent is just the perfect, intoxicating, masculine mix of aftershave and cologne.

But you think your breaking point is feeling him sneakily leaning closer when he thinks no one is looking, the brush of his breath near your neck, his nose ghosting over your skin as though probing your resolve. And you’re definitely failing the test.

The scrape of your chair against the floor as you stand abruptly startles not only Jeongguk but everyone at the table. Gulping, you stumble on your speech as you ask for directions to the bathroom and the words coming from Yoongi’s mouth barely register in your mind, body moving on autopilot, turning sharply toward the hallway in hopes that your subconscious will guide you the rest of the way.

You miss Jeongguk’s head tilting in adorable confusion, that signature gesture of concern pairing with knitted brows as he watches you disappear. When he glances back at his friends, they just shrug and resume their conversation.

The moment you lock the door behind you with the sound of the latch clicking into place, your back meets the wood with a forceful push, a little too rough, but entirely necessary. You’re desperately trying to knock some needed sense into yourself, and you follow with deep, measured breaths.

To no avail. The persistent buzz low in your belly hums louder, the embarrassingly quick slick heat pooling between your thighs becoming almost unbearable, especially with the thin lace of your panties doing little to ease your discomfort. You had put them on at the prospect of what would follow the dinner. What you’d hoped to save for the privacy of your home, not here.

Not here.

Stepping toward the sink, you grip its cool porcelain edges as though it could pull your composure together. Lifting your eyes to the mirror, you’re met with your own reflection. Wide-eyed, cheeks flushed, lips parted. A look you know all too well.

You reach up to fix your perfectly styled hair, smoothing it down in a feigned attempt to focus on something else that is not this. But the more you try, the more you stare back at your delirious state, the more you question if feeling such an attraction is even sane, healthy.

You can perfectly picture Jeongguk standing behind you, body pressing against yours, hands gliding over your hips, lips finding that sensitive spot just below your ear. Jeongguk would take care of what he’s unconsciously caused, wouldn’t he? He’d work to tick that one wish off his list.

The thought alone has your nails scraping against the cold surface of the counter, and your eyes squeezing shut. It frustrates you to inhumane levels, how easily he reduces you to this pubescent state, as if you’ve never known control.

What makes you release a breathy scoff in the small space is the knowledge that he hasn’t even touched you tonight.

When you feel your phone ping in your purse, you‘re startled out of the dangerous spiral that had nearly pulled your hand beneath the hem of your dress. Your gaze flickers to the mirror, where the vivid reflection of Jeongguk had started to feel too real.

Your fingers clumsily dig past lipstick tubes and stray receipts until they close around the device. The screen lights up with his name, paired with that little bear emoji he insisted on adding beside it.

JJ🧸🎀: Everything ok?

You only hesitate for a moment, fingers hovering over the keyboard. But your thumbs move before your brain can stop them.

You: can u come help me plz

The knock at the door comes almost instantly, unexpected enough to make you stumble before you reach out to twist the handle, pulling the door only as to reveal your figure in the narrow frame.

He nods your chin at you with curious concern, “Let me in?”

Looking up at him with wide, uncertain eyes through long lashes and under drawn up eyebrows, you swear you catch the faintest flicker of something primal in his own.

You step back to let him enter, the small space feeling even smaller with his gaze never once leaving you, tracking your every movement like you’re the only thing in the world worth looking at.

The soft click of the door locking behind him is all it takes for his warm palms to cradle your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks, “Sweetheart, what happened?”

You only shake your head, and his hands slip from their hold on you as your back meets the cool edge of the sink counter behind you. The plush curve of your ass squishes with the pressure, and he briefly darts downward to take in the soft fabric of your dress clinging to your frame before snapping up to meet you again.

“Talk to me,” he urges, almost pleading.

Looking down, you just now notice how your shoe has loosened around your calf, and alternating between his brows dipping low over widened pupils and your heels, you seem to not even be able to control the way your foot trails up your leg in a feigned sheepish demeanor, your cheek resting on your shoulder.

You try to fight the smile by biting on your lower lip, and in the softest voice you surrender to your stubborn, persistent need with a flimsy excuse, “Clasp on this heel is so thin… I can’t close it.”

Jeongguk’s every sense is alert. His eyes follow your line of sight with urgence, ready to cater to your every request, do all it takes to make sure you’re safe, hands twitching at his sides the more his protective instinct kicks in.

But it doesn’t take much longer to detect the real intentions behind your creased forehead in pretend worry, breath catching in your throat the moment you spot the shift in his eyes. Now hooded, heavy.

He looks back up at you just to seek confirmation of your plan all along, and lets an exasperated chuckle escape him when you can only pout enough to make your impatience clear.

Jeongguk hums, taking one step closer until the counter edge digs behind your thighs, your figure almost sitting up on the surface, “Does my girl need help, hm? Is that so?”

It’s useless wasting more time. It’s useless trying to avoid it and pretend this exact moment isn’t what has been dominating your mind the whole day, both too proud to voice it but too naughty to actually suppress it.

So Jeongguk slowly gets down, never once looking away from your expectant eyes, not missing the way your chest gasps. You nod just as sluggish, mouth left slightly agape, too entranced by the look on your boyfriend’s face and his hand settling on your ankle to gently lift your foot and rest it on his propped-up knee.

When he patiently works on the struggle ahead with the tips of his careful fingers delicately brushing against your skin, it’s nearly torture trying to remain composed.

Now done with the pathetic excuse, your shoe properly set in place, Jeongguk is only getting started with the real reason he’s kneeling before you.

Jeongguk doesn’t rise right away. Instead, taking his pointer finger, he traces a teasing line up your calf that causes immediate goosebumps to prickle your skin, betraying just how deeply his actions affect you. He follows the trail up, and up, until reaching the side of your thigh. That’s when he stutters.

With your leg up, the skirt of your mini dress has ridden dangerously high and as a result it does very little to hide what’s underneath it, especially when the lacy panties you chose to wear are barely even doing their original job at covering you.

Chuckling lowly, his jaw clenches, “Baby.”

His vibrating tone runs as a pleasing buzz along your spine, and it has you straightening your posture the more you feel yourself slip under his control. You tilt your head, suddenly not so confident anymore in the game you started.

He slowly blinks up at you, sliced eyes matching perfectly with the wicked smirk on his lips, and the look he reserves you with is intense with something that doesn’t allow to go back, “What is this, huh? Did you plan it?”

You can only shake your head, afraid that if you speak you’re going to give you two away without even starting anything.

And he’s making it extra hard, especially when his digit travels up to your inner thigh, gaze never leaving yours, “Do you always go around with these kinds of panties on, doll?”

Guilty. Of course you don’t. Whole night has been sticky and uncomfortable. So yeah, this was indeed a plan. But now that it succeeded, you’re suddenly not sure how to act upon your own needs, intimidated by the man at your feet. You move your face side to side, faster this time.

Jeongguk gently lets his head fall to the right, his curls jumping with the movement, and he sounds softer than the way his hand is already pushing your leg to the side, “What do you want me to do, hm?”

It’s impossible to keep the moan you were forcing down your throat with his firm touch on your burning skin. It gets a chuckle out of him, and the subtle tinge of degradation has you pushing yourself further into his face, mere centimetres apart from your embarrassingly wet core.

He seems totally unfazed by your desperation, keeping his eyes trained on your face no matter how great the temptation to just dive into you already is. Jeongguk can smell you, and he could just lean forward a bit more to have the tip of his nose brush against your clit. But he resists.

He nods his chin up to you, his breath fanning over your clothed pussy, and he keeps the challenge up, ignoring the way your eyebrows draw up and paint you in deliriousness, “Use your words. Tell me what you need.”

Even in your haze, you’re mindful to keep your tone down, and the otherwise loud whine escapes you in the form of a whimper, your tummy going up and down with your panting and your thighs unconsciously parting in an attempt to have him pay attention to what clearly doesn’t need to be explained.

Jeongguk doesn’t want to act upon clues, though. You put both of you in this situation, and now he simply wants to know why.

Gulping at his intense gaze not once leaving your shaking and blown out pupils, you whisper a strained plea, “I want you to touch me. Been thinking about this all night.”

His condescending smile is accompanied by a long, belittling hum, his eyes finally dropping low to inspect the wet patch expanding from your clenching hole. From where it had flattened around your knee, Jeongguk lets his palm travel under your dress and across your lower tummy, caressing it while subtly letting his thumb brush past the hem of your panties.

You jut your hips forward, feverish with the minimum stimulation of his breath against your sex, but you’ll learn the hard way to not be so impatient, your boyfriend’s hand pressing against your stomach to push you back down on the counter.

The pressure feels nice, and he knows it. There’s no uncalculated action in the way he touches you; he’s memorised what your every sound of pleasure corresponds to. Nonetheless, he keeps taunting you.

Keeping his hand cupping the skin around your navel, he uses his other calloused one to spread your legs open and allow himself to have you. Or at least you think so, before he uses his lips to further tease you, his tongue skimming the wet spots on the inside of your thighs without never even brushing the pulse and center of all your needs.

Before you can protest and fully push yourself on him, he looks up at you with a warning ready on his lips, “Be fucking quiet, doll, I swear.”

And it’s like he does it on purpose, because he willingly doesn’t give you any time to prepare and just latches at your wetness through the slicked material, making it hard to stifle the first moan threatening to topple out of you.

The pace he picks up is torturous, and his saliva blending with your own wetness causes your panties to stick uncomfortably in between your puffy lips. You huff, protest ready on your tongue, but Jeongguk precedes you and pulls the piece to the side, not once detaching from your weeping cunt, the sudden coldness of the room that hits your exposed folds immediately being replaced with his warm desire.

He doesn’t have time to scold you for your behaviour, but oh, he will. The way you’re clutching tightly on his hair and rutting into his lapping tongue, struggling to keep your noises down; how you impatiently rush him to get you to that high you desperately seek. You were never granted permission.

So, he allows himself to be just a bit mean to you, his licking along your slit slow and fleeting, almost imperceptible, his grip poking harsh cavities in your skin that will leave marks. Not that you mind.

When he growls lowly against you with his nose brushing your most sensitive spot, it’s your clue to push the testing-his-patience to the side and maybe act less like a brat. There’s no time, and you really want — need — whatever he’s willing to give you.

With a hand curling around the edge of the counter, you use the other to stifle your moans, and his approving nod vibrates with a hum and pulses with your clenching hole. He starts to lap at your core now, engulfing your lips and nuzzling himself closer to your entrance.

“You’re so bad,” it comes out slurred and muffled, but the humiliation settles in you with a pleasing buzz that has your hips stuttering when he nudges your center with the tip of his tongue. The sound you let out in response is close to a cry that you quickly swallow, fighting hard to be obedient and keep down, even more when he continues with his belittling comments against your throbbing walls, “First on the naughty list this year, huh.”

As much as the both of you love the chase, Jeongguk knows he has to get you close to a breaking point if he doesn’t want the others to suspect your absence. That’s why he moves his warm muscles up to your clit and lets his two digits join the stimulation, only causing more slickness to smear a mess between your legs.

Your body involuntarily runs after the cruel curling of his fingers, forcing their space inside your mushy walls, warm and clutching around him the more his tongue picks up its pace. You can feel him panting against you, and his laboured breaths only work to bring you to the ecstasy you’ve been daydreaming about for days now.

He does exactly what it takes last to undo you, speaking between trails of your stickiness and efforts to slurp every single drop of it you offer him, “C’mon, pretty. Cum before the others find you like this.”

You choke on a gasped moan, your body convulsing with the incessant provocation and the attempt at keeping louder sounds stifled behind strained whines. Jeongguk gulps down your essence, lapping at every corner of your core to make sure he doesn’t miss none of the reason you’re shaking for.

Only when you unconsciously try to avoid his grip on you does he detach from you, letting his devilish gaze drag up, slowly along with his body. Before he gives the two of you any possibility of speaking, he crashes onto you, mouth chasing yours in a kiss that has you tasting your own self mixed with him.

He pants, moving with a smirk on his glossy, puffy lips, “Satisfied?”

The breathy giggle fanning against him lets him know that you are far from that, “Didn’t you say something about fucking me? You seem hard.”

“God, I can never make that pretty mouth of yours shut up, huh. You want my cock? That what you badly want?”

It was never this easy to get Jeongguk to give in so quickly to your bed requests. Usually, it was a game of hunting, of resistance, of testing the other’s resolve to see who would break first. But now, it’s different, and there’s no hesitation in the way he tugs at his pants, breath ragged and his focus entirely on you.

The moment his length is freed, already hard from eating you out and throbbing with need, he doesn’t wait for permission—he never has to with you. You realize how completely your moans and whimpers have filled the air and how incapable you are at quietness.

How can you be when the sound of him slapping his thick shaft against your lower stomach sends a new jolt of arousal coursing through your body?

“Lay back,” Jeongguk rasps, nudging you with his hips, and you obey without question, your palms supporting your weight on the counter.

He lets his tip drag over your slick folds before pushing his whole cock in, the suddenty of the action meeting your anticipation with a gasp leaving both your mouths.

Jeongguk only forces himself deeper, quickly adjusting to a preferred pace once he checks that you’re okay with a small nod. Because he knows it’ll be hard to slow down once you give him the go ahead.

He’s never been this embarrassingly close from simple teasing and foreplay, but his thrusts become stammered almost too early, and he thinks it has everything to do with you granting his only wish on his Christmas list and being so eager to tick it off for him.

He wants to do it for you, too, “Fuck, baby. I’ll cum inside you, hm? Keep all my mess stuffed in your tight hole. Make your wish come true.”

The implications behind his slurred speech have your eyes rolling to the back of your head, mouth hanging open to release your every breathy whimper. Jeongguk knows you’re on the pill, and for this exact reason it’s not the first time he finishes in you.

Yet, the shift in his tone and the reasons he decided to speak that last sentence cause you to throb uncontrollably in overstimulation around his thick length, making it a struggle for him to slide easily into you.

Making your wish come true, the one you jokingly whispered to him on your couch a week ago, means one thing. The knowledge of Jeongguk wanting to fill you with his babies moves something so deeply instilled within you that you can’t help the wail escaping you, immediately burying your face in the curve of his broad shoulder and biting at the skin.

He has to fight just as hard when he feels your pussy contract, knows you’re getting closer again, feels himself dangerously near to breaking as well, mouth parted and brows knitted, delirium washing over his face.

Lifting his gaze up from your enthralling orbs, he catches sight of your tangled bodies in the mirror behind you and groans, clutching your hips tighter to angle himself just enough to perfectly witness himself sinking in you at a relentless speed in the reflection.

“Oh doll, fuck,” his expression is hard and focused, the way his jaw ticks only adding to the feverish look, and his voice is rough from the whispering, “Look behind. Look at us in the mirror, how well you’re taking me.”

You manage to weakly turn your head enough to witness your naked bodies blending together at your centers, his muscled hands tightly clutching at you and digging marks that will leave their signs for a while.

Weakly, your head falls back and you let a particularly loud whimper flow freely out of you. Jeongguk would be a hypocrite if he were to shut you up, because his own grunts resonate against the empty walls the more he buries his greedy length in you.

He hopes the music he convinced the others to put on before leaving the room to check on you in the bathroom is enough to pad the inglorious sounds of skin meeting and breaths shortening.

The noises seem to suddenly alarm you to the point of cradling the side of his face with your soft palm and moving him to you, just to catch his mouth with yours in a kiss that’s all teeth and spit, that vibrates with the moans you struggle to swallow.

His pounding stutters the more he fucks into you, and he manages a few flicks at your clit before thrusting hard and steady, once, twice, three times, emptying himself in you. The warm feeling of his white semen filling you to the brim comes with a new emotion tonight, and you pulse around him in your second climax.

There’s no time to recover from the high when his whispered plea meets your ear, “Baby. Need to fuck you again.”

You pant, thoughts confused, speech slurred, “What?”

“Let me take you home, c’mon. I wanna pump you full of me again, and again, and again. Until you can feel it, can’t escape it.”

The intensity in his eyes conveys a love that contrasts deliciously with the lust still clouding the stuffy bathroom, his lips closing around pecks down your jaw, then under it, then along your neck.

You’re hoping that what he’s saying is exactly what you want it to be, “Jeongguk…”

Cradling your face, he speaks against your mouth, “I love you so much, doll. We’re making it happen. Let me practice for now, hm?”

A smile parts its way across your face, soft and full, and you can’t suppress it even if you tried, even when you try, “But the others—”

“Need you. Now.”

[deadsetobsessions]

“I ate paint once,” Danny nonchalantly threw out in the middle of game night.

The entire table stopped. Heads whipped towards Danny.

“Yeah, me too. Cardamom yellow was my favorite. Ugly as hell but the chemicals just tasted right.” Tim replied, using the distraction to nab some of Bruce’s money. Monopoly money, that is. Everyone’s heads snapped towards Tim, only Cass and Danny (who was part of the scheme) caught him cheating.

“Really? I think mine was those spray can blue cosmos paint. But that might have been more my thing for space than the actual taste.”

“WHY WERE YOU EATING PAINT?!” Dick asked, looking like he wanted to lunge over the table and shake Danny until he puked out paint. Bruce looked like he was about to have a heart attack.

“Yeah, what the fuck, Tim?” Jason snickered.

“In my defense,” Danny grinned. “I was left unsupervised. Also, Steph, you owe me $24 in rent.”

“Ugh! I’m almost out of money! Can’t you loan me some, Alfred?”

“I am sorry, Miss Stephanie, you are not qualified for another loan. In fact, one of your properties is about to be confiscated as per the collateral agreement.”

“Noooo!” Stephanie made dramatic dying noises.

“What was your excuse, Timothy?” Damian asked, eyes glued to the board and determined to win the game.

“Hey, I was probably less supervised than Danny was.”

“Yeah,” Danny perked up. “My parents brought us down to their lab all of the time. Taught us a lot of stuff.”

“Really? Like what?” Duke asked, casually slapping away Tim’s sneaky hands.

“Oh, like what a rocket launcher sounded like up close! And how to build a laser gun! Oh! And what human organs looked like when they’re fresh!” Danny chirped, collecting his money from a stunned Stephanie’s hands. He looked up.

“Oh, don’t worry! I at least learned what not to do when it comes to lab safety. And we wore hazmat suits to protect ourselves from the radiation.” Danny smiled in a ditzy fashion as the table fell silent in a horrified manner. Cass tapped his arm amusedly, but allowed his bullshit to stand. After all, it’s not like he lied.

“Radiation?” Duck’s voice raised a couple of octaves. Oh yeah, Danny’s going to laugh about that pitch for a long while.

“Organs?!” Jason’s hands closed around the plastic house he was holding rather forcefully.

“Do you even know what basic lab safety practices are, Danny?” Damian demanded, finally looking up with brows furrowed. He rolled the dice and grabbed a mystery card. He gets $100 from Alfred.

“How old were you??” Duke asked.

“Like… 8, when they first brought me in?”

“Eight.” Bruce rumbled, slipping into a more Batman like persona. When Danny sent him a confused look, Bruce straightened back into his Bruce persona. “Wow, they must have trusted you a lot!”

“Sure?”

“What were their names again?” Stephanie asked sweetly, Cass nodding at him.

“Jack and Maddie Fenton.” Not that they’ll find them here, considering his parents are dead and in another universe.

“Cool, cool, cool!” Stephanie blinked, beaming as her hands formed lethal fists underneath the table.

Danny blinked and tilted his head in an unassuming way, pretending like he had no idea what Stephanie was thinking of. He sneakily handed over $600 to Cass in order to complete his monopoly on his side of the board.

Danny stood up and spread his hands out, one hand clutching his new found victory.

"Well, lady and gents, you've all been floundering against the inevitable tide of capitalism. I am here, as a reminder that you can never win against the hopelessness that will be your financial ruin! I, Danny Fenton, have obtained a quarter of the board and therefore have won against even your best efforts!" He cackled, holding up his fan of properties triumphantly. He shot a mischievous grin at Cass, who held up a solemn thumbs up in support for his monetary takeover.

"... Danny, are you... planning on a career in villainy?" Bruce asked, after a brief and total wave of shocked silence. Damian looked like he was having a conniption at having been bested, unknowingly. Yeah, Danny was disarming like that.

"Yeah, that was concerning." Tim piped up, nabbing a ten from a shell-shocked Damian.

"Hey! The Riddler gives surprisingly good monologues! And he's really loud, so it's hard not to pick up on things. Duke, your turn." Danny sat back down, pouting. The villainy comment was a little too close to his fears.

"Damn it." Duke, who had rolled, landed smack middle of Danny's territory. He handed over a sheaf of bills to a grinning Danny.

"Wait a minute! You have cheated!" Damian bolted upwards from his seat, finally done running through the purchases he remembered Danny making. "You acquired that property not within the games' rules!"

"Okay, first of all, the rule book is a suggestion, like lab safety rules," Danny saw the others open their mouths to protest, but he quickly shut it down. "Second, there's totally no rules about selling and buying places from a private owner so suck on it. And thirdly? Cass sold it to me, so you all can take it up with her."

"Diabolical!" Damian muttered indignantly.

"... Dammit." Dick sighed, falling back into the chair and balancing on its two legs. He couldn't say anything, considering his current of bankruptcy.

"Danny. Danny, I'll buy a property from you." Jason said, eyeing one of Danny's other properties near his own cluster.

"What do you have that would interest me?" Danny asked, falling back into his Vlad-like imitation.

"Ew, don't do that," Steph reached over to jab him in the arm.

"Yeah, Jason, what do you have?" Duke said, the lovely subtle instigator that he is.

"Red Hood's signature."

The others blue-screen, gaping at the actual audacity Jason had to offer up something that would take him no effort. Danny, prepared with a poker face that came with lying straight to Jazz's ever perceptive eyes about whether he nabbed the last of her ice cream or not, was prepared.

"Red Hood? The condom guy working out of the... um. Upper East Side?" Danny asked, pretending to hesitate. He knows where Jason operated. That doesn't mean he couldn't simply pretend otherwise. For science, of course.

...

...

...

The table howled with laughter, Jason's indignant spluttering unable to say anything against Danny's wide eyed look of innocence. Cass leaned against the table, chuckles falling out of her mouth and eyes crinkled in mirth. Dick had fallen out of his chair, helplessly wheezing on the floor. Duke is hiding his face in his hands, mirroring Bruce's pose as they both shake from silent laughter. Damian is smirking, wicked and sharp as he smugly stared at Jason. Stephanie and Tim are leaning against each other, repeating "the CONDOM GUY" in alternating and increasingly louder voices. Alfred had a smile on his face and a tight grip on the bills in front of him that betrayed his amusement.

"He's a crime lord!" Jason exclaimed, indignant.

"Uh, okay. Well, I mean, why would I want a crime lord's signature? I don't want to be on his radar. Or echolocation or whatever. He's... a Bat, right? That's what you guys call that group, yeah?"

"How do you know the Rogues better than the vigilantes?!" Jason glared at his unhelpful family. Those assholes better prepare for a load of rubber bullets the next time they're on patrol near Crime Alley.

"Hey, it's not my fault the vigilantes here are unsociable. Maybe if they monologued more, I'd know who they are."

"Wouldn't- wouldn't that make them more villain like?" Tim asked, stuttering from his laughter.

"I dunno?" Danny replied, enjoying his the family's unabashed joy. "I mean, they're pretty legit and they help people already so I guess they don't need to be sociable... but still I swear I haven't heard anything about Batman other than that he grunts and is mean towards criminals."

Is mean towards criminals, Duke mouthed at a recovering Dick who was in the process of heaving himself back up. It sent him careening back down to the floor with restrained giggles. Cass tapped Danny, reminding him to eat some food.

"Tt. Of course not. They're efficient at their jobs and have no need to be seen as welcoming to criminals." Damian puffed up.

"Yeah, but they've gotta feel safe, right?" Danny shrugged as he plucked a cookie from the cookie platter. "The... one with the sword, what was it?"

"Robin." Damian supplied, eyes narrowed and trained on him.

"Yeah, the baby bird. The kids think his swords are cool so they trust him. But like, the others? The flippy blue one? Not so much."

"Wait," Dick said from the floor. "They don't trust Nightwing?"

"Nah, they trust him to protect them, but he has a history of bringing the kids to the police, you know?"

"What's wrong with that?"

Danny shrugged. "ACAB. But also because everybody knows that half the guys in the GCPD and CPS are child traffickers."

"Wait, what?" Jason and Tim straightened.

Bruce piped in, the emotional whiplash of amusement to concern to amusement to concern visibly making itself known on the man's baffled face. "I thought Batman and Commissioner Gordon took care of that?"

"Sure, the obvious ones." Danny hesitated. Well, he's pretty sure they think he's a meta so... "There's... a meta trafficking ring that they're a part of. That's. That's kind of what I was running from."

Danny looked up pleadingly. Cass placed a hand on his arm in comfort, not knowing that he was fibbing about running from them.

Danny was on the streets helping his own Alley metas to run from them.

Danny is as feral as she was, and that meant he could hide just as much as she could read off of him. Cass was the best and he felt kind of bad about lying to her, successfully or not.

"Uh. Some people said you know Batman, Bruce. I know- uh, that might not be the case but if you do, could you ask him to look into it?" Danny made his eyes tear up. "And maybe he wouldn't care about me much, I mean, I know he doesn't really like metas but if he helps out, I could totally like, leave the city once the kids are safe, promise."

Ooh, Danny put a little too much sincerity into that. He could practically hear the hearts breaking in the game room as everyone glared at Bruce.

"You won't have to leave."

"... Promise?" And Danny's voice was a little too desperate, too hopeful, because Bruce's eyes tugged down in sadness.

"Promise." He rumbled, all Bruce Wayne and all Batman. Danny's core warmed. Danny also saw the rest of the family's faces darken in pure agreement. And partial wrath.

"Yeah! We'll kick Batman's ass if he even thought about kicking you out!" Stephanie proclaimed.

"He's far more proficient in combat than you are, Brown." Damian immediately leapt to Batman's defense and that was that.

Well, later, as Danny was "sleeping" and Phantom was hovering in the cave, invisible and intangible, he got confirmation that his Alley meta kids were going to be safe, soon.

After all, the entire Batclan was suiting up and baying for blood, with Oracle's all encompassing presence behind them, fingers reaching for their enemies' weak points.