#but over time i have come to understand it as

[a-hermit-pining]

LADS Men If You Turn Evil

AN: istg I keep getting all these ideas while working out 💗

Pairing: Lads boys x gn reader

Genre: DRAMA

Summary: after eons of nurturing the world with fragments of your heart, you learn the truth. Every death, every rebirth, burns in your heart. And now you want to burn the world.

(I do not own these characters)

Rafayel:

He looks at the destruction around him, the fragments of a broken city, the wrath in your eyes.

You pace the room, your steps unyielding to the passage of time.

He has been awake with you for countless nights, his ears filled with the cries of his kin, burning, drowning in the boiling seas.

He tugs at your arm, pulling you into his embrace, his fingers threading through your hair.

"Why can I not be at peace?" you whisper, cupping his cheek. "All our enemies have fallen, but why is there no relief? Who else must I seek to bring us justice?"

"It is my fault... I should have prevented this," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "I should have never allowed it to come to be."

To watch you fall was his fall. To witness beauty drain from you was his failure. He has you back, but at what cost?

"But I will make things right," he whispers, pulling you closer.

"No more pain."

A gasp tears from your lips as his dagger pierces your back.

Your fingers clutch at his shirt, your blood soaking into his hand. "How dare you…" you seethe, your rage flickering even as your strength wanes. "I should have—"

Blood gurgles in your throat as he pulls your head against his chest, his shoulders trembling.

He would rather bear your hatred than lose your soul.

The cries of the world fade as a new one begins to take shape.

But all he can hear now are his own ragged sobs as he holds your cooling body.

Xavier:

"You have lost your mind!" Xavier’s voice is sharp, his fury barely masking the horror in his eyes.

He looks down from the castle walls, your castle now. Below, corpses rot on pikes, writhing with maggots.

Philos will never come to be. The world has already shifted on its axis.

You pin him to the wall, leaning him over the edge. "You will not talk to me like that, Xavier." Your voice is quiet, but the weight behind it is absolute. "This is my world. I may do as I please. It would do you good to listen, to stay as my consort, not the crown prince of Philos."

His breath hitches as he stares at you, searching for something, hesitation, remorse, restraint.

But you are resolute.

Your eyes soften at his distraught expression. Gently, you pull him back from the edge and release your grip. "Do not let this drive a wedge between us. I do not wish to lose you...I’ve only just remembered you." You press a kiss to his lips, warm, fleeting, achingly tender.

"This is merely a necessary cleansing," you murmur, as if explaining the weather. "A precaution, so the world understands the new order. So all who bled me for ages finally know what it means to bleed."

And so, bound by love, Xavier became a puppet to your wishes.

He waited for the new world you promised, sought desperately for the salve to soothe the wounds your changing forms left in him.

With time, he learned to ignore the mangled bodies outside the capital. The sunken faces beyond the castle walls.

He learned to be happy.

Zayne:

He never stands idle.

Not even at the first signs of your fall. Not even when the shadows lengthen, and the world begins to crumble at your feet.

He does everything he can to undo the damage.

He is a doctor, ridding people of pain is his purpose.

He funds revolutions, smuggles food and medicine, seeks to turn your heart away from vengeance.

But he does not leave you.

Not when you’re hurting. Not when the weight of the world fractures your soul. He stays, doing all he can to hold the world together before it collapses entirely.

For the first time in years, he prays to Astra.

He begs his god to aid the world.

Until you find his secrets. Until you strip him of the power you once gave him.

You lock him away in a tower, bound to you. And then...then, true helplessness sets in.

He watches his betrayal fuel your madness. Watches as your fury, once directed at tyrants, turns upon the innocent.

In the frozen chamber, you loom over him, his knees pinned to the ground by the weight of your power.

"Do you wish to leave me, Zayne?" Your fingers tilt his chin upward, forcing him to meet your crazed gaze. "Tell me, do you wish to escape?"

He does not flinch. His neck is littered with the climbing scars of his evol, of his futile resistance. It is all a proof of the turmoil within you, that settles upon his skin. He knows it better than any.

"No." His voice is steady. Resolute. "I wish to stay next to you."

He means it. Earnestly.

Even if your presence comes at this cost, he is willing to pay.

He has never wished to abandon you.

Not even at the cost of himself.

Sylus:

You are his moral compass.

So when you fall, he falls with you.

There is nothing to stop you both.

His days are spent treasuring the reality of having you back, of having your love.

And if the cost is the world, then let it burn.

The core in his eye revels in the doom. It rejoices in the love that blooms within you, in the hunger that consumes you both.

It is fulfilled.

He is fulfilled.

He does not make you ruler of just the Earth, he crowns you sovereign of the universe.

After all, he has always been willing to kill and die for you.

Devoured by your bloodlust, he kneels.

Your consort. Your ruin.

He is content in this fall.

Caleb:

He is your sword.

The day you pledge destruction, he is the hand that pulls the trigger. No questions asked.

He is content, more than content, being the only one to receive your love.

The world had it coming. To condemn you to such pain was their undoing.

He bleeds millions to warm the world that once sought to devour you. He has no mercy for those who cower beneath your gaze.

He has your love.

But why, then, does his heart fall at the sound of your hollow laughter?

Why can he not bring himself to burn the memories of the past?

Why has he kept your hunter’s gear, carefully stored away in his rooms?

He so dearly wishes to keep you pleased. But he knows, this destruction is not born of greed. It is the consequence of centuries of pain.

And no matter how much blood he spills, it will never ease that pain.

No matter how many bodies pile beneath your feet, he cannot bring back your joy.

That was stolen, broken, snatched by those who now rot in unmarked graves.

[widowlyy]

🥎 ❀ HOMERUN DEAL

analysis. its the first game of your season and you were a nervous wreck the entire time. Close enough to quitting, your softball coach had pulled you to the side and offered you a bargain if you were to snap your head into the game and win.

pairing. softball coach!natasha x player!reader

warnings. MINORS DNI | Smut. Legal age gap (N is late thirties, R is early twenties), strap-on (R receiving), daddy kink, possessive nat, mean nat (if you squint), teasing, semi-public sex (almost got caught, in office), degradation, praising, dirty talk.

wc. 4.8k

authors note. the games begin, in the series and between me and a fellow friend 😼😼 — expect more coming soon. @thewidowsledger im ringing the dinner bell come here

taglist. @idkwhatever580

⧗

Monday mornings were never your favorite, who even enjoyed them anyways? Tomorrow is going to be the first softball game of the season after a week of practice and a week of you fawning over your coach, and it was clear your teammates noticed. You walked into your building with a empty cup of coffee that was sloppily made from the starbucks worker, and you didn’t even have the time to open your mouth and complain due to Kate wanting to meet up early and gossip in the parking lot. You remind yourself of the message you got in the morning before you woke, the familiar image of the redhead had filled your mind as she reminded you to go to her office in the morning to go over plans and to understand your point of view more on who should play where.

You walked through the halls, ensuring your shoes dragged amongst the floor, squeaking in complaint just like you were twenty minutes earlier to the black haired girl you adored. The sound of a door opening, the metal hinges silently groaned as the raspy yet teasing voice announced, “L/N, stop dragging your feet down the hall, come on in,” Turning your head to see the opened door with the woman herself standing in the doorway, taking in her outfit, the wide-legged black dress pants had perfectly fit her waist with the white blouse as her top. You tried to focus on the redhead's face rather than Natasha’s soft colored skin and curves, noticing the soft smile on her face as she lured you into the trap of her office as you stepped into the office. Ensuring to lift your feet to prevent the obnoxious noise. Hearing the door close behind you and the feeling of a hand brushing against your lower back as she gestured for you to sit across from her seat behind the desk. You hesitated at first, before you felt her lean in behind you as her lips brushed against your ear. Is this a teasing way? Was she just playing with you, fighting the blush on your cheeks as she softly mused out, “Come on, we have plenty of time for you and me to discuss the game plan tomorrow,”

“Right, uhm, what are you thinking?” You tried to hide your nerves as you asked your coach what her plans were, watching as the redhead had ensured to sit across from you looking into your eyes as soon as you looked up to meet hers with that smirk plastered on her lips before she turned to look at her computer screen and explain her thoughts.

“Well, I thought I could place Brooke at third with you at short. Kate pitching with Carol catching,” She confidently stated out as she looked over the positions, her eyes trailed over as your brows creased and a small frown found your face and you spoke up.

“No, swap me and Brooke. She plays at short usually while me at third, that’s been our dynamic for years,” you had explained softly, mind hazy as all you could think about was Natasha’s arms. Seeing them lean against the desk to look closer at you before she hummed softly, adjusting the positions, another suggestion fell off your lips, “You’ll want to have Maria warm up as well, if Kate goes for too long in an inning she’ll get in her head and it won’t work for any of us,”

She quirked a brow, a soft smirk playing on her lips as she nodded, “Abby at second right? Then we bring Wanda in center, Anna in right and Karlie in left,”

You nodded quickly at the redheads statement for the rest of the positions, your eyes flicked to the screen as your coach turned it around so you’d get a look at the batting line up. You were batting third, wincing a bit but hiding it quickly as you nodded, “seems good to me,”

The redhead smiled softly at you, green eyes twinkling before she pulled her laptop back and shut it, her focus going solely on you which had the butterflies in your stomach churning. Swallowing, you also mumbled out meekly, “is there anything you need me to tell the team, such as signs, specific things or plays you want?”

“No, I think I can have it handled,” Natasha responded softly before spinning her chair and standing up, the aroma of coffee filling the office air as your eyes took in how your coach had a coffee machine in her office. Surprise filled your orbs, she turned back as she got two mugs, “do you want a cup? I made a little too much,”

“Yeah sure,” You agreed, “lots of sugar if you have it, creamer too,” 

“Ooh, you like it sweet? Does that explain how sweet you are?” She teased lightly, a brow quirking as she poured you a cup. Pouring a scoop of sugar in and then creamer, surprisingly enough to suit your taste as she stirred it and handed it to you. Flushing as your eyes found your feet, muttering a small thanks and taking the cup gracefully.

“You seem tired malyshka, how much sleep did you get?” Your coach asked softly, pouring herself a cup and having a scoop of sugar before mixing it in well enough as she sat down in front of you again. Taking a sip as you tried to comprehend how black the woman liked her coffee. Calculating the hours of sleep, you weren’t as tired as you were anymore, too busy ranting on call with Kate while playing stupid games or doing assignments. Yet somehow it took a toll on you last night, actually trying to go to bed early but all you could do was stare at the ceiling and hope that sleep would take you. Sleeping medication, such as melatonin, didn’t work anymore due to early years of you being unable to sleep and overtaking it to where the medicine didn’t have an effect on you anymore.

“Err, about six hours, I was up finishing a report for one of my minor classes,” You meekly admitted, you had easily lied to teachers before. A bat of your eyes with a soft plea that your cat had gone missing due to her being a minx and you were worried too much to work on schoolwork because that cat was the last thing you had with a resemblance of your mother. Your cat is in fact with your mother, who lives in a separate state, who you never talked to after you declared that it was your time for independence and that you can go through with your dreams. You still regret it, it’s one of the things that has your mind reeling at night with a gut-wrenching feeling of guilt.

Your mind wandered enough for Natasha to see the haze in your eyes, she cleared her throat as her raspy yet soft voice slightly scolded in concern, “you need eight hours honey, that’s not healthy especially when you play a sport like this. I need you up and running tomorrow, okay?”

Your eyes lifted, a slight nod had bobbed at her words as you took a sip from the mug she handed you. Nose scrunching as you considered her words, a meek thanks leaving your lips as you felt the scorching liquid torment your tastebuds before you swallowed it down your esophagus. You swore you’d take coffee out of your mornings after you spazzed out one day in highschool, hands too shaky for writing and you broke your personal school chromebook that had your dad in your ear about having to pay for it and your mom yelling at him and defending you quickly. 

“I plan on going to bed earlier tonight, Kate’s working so I can’t call her. I have nothing due for my classes either so I’m free,” You reassured your coach, a shy smile finding your features as your eyes softened slightly from the tension and exhaustion as you looked at the redhead who gave you a smile in return.

“That’s good, I hope you don’t mind but I contacted your first classes professor about you not being there for us discussing plans,” She informed you, a hum left her throat, “if you want you can stay here and rest, I’m not doing anything special but scheduling more games. The couch there is open if you want to nap,” 

Your eyes widened at her gesture, astonished at the generosity before you nodded quickly. Taking a moment to think before opening your phone to check the time, at least two hours, you’ll be able to last. A hoarse rasp left your throat from the hot liquid and tiredness, “thank you coach, I’ll be out of here five minutes before first period is done, I’ll set an alarm,”

As you stood to go lay down on the couch. You settled yourself, head resting on the arm as you were about to set an alarm on your phone as movement caught your eyes. Natasha waved it off as she offered with a hum, “don’t worry about it, I can wake you up, just get your beauty sleep malyshka. That’s all I need,”

A simple nod against the fabric was enough to indicate you trusted Natasha to wake you up, a small smile found her face as she was finally gaining your trust. Noting how your breathing faded to something soft you fell asleep, a small sigh left her lips. Finding ways to get you to rest was hard, exhausting you at practice as she made you run drills harshly weren’t enough. Maybe the gentle approach was better, all she knew is that she was getting closer to you. That’s all she wanted, and she found a suspicion that’s what you wanted too.

—

You fought with the belt buckle to hold your pants up, to tie the outfit together. Black jeseries with red pin stripes with black pants, white socks and the white belt that is struggling to close around your hips. Finally snapping it down as you sighed, you had your hair bubble braided and you stood in front of the mirror in the athletic locker room. Eyes fixing in on your form before a sudden whistle left someone’s lips and you saw the familiar raven colored hair stood beside you.

“Your ass is fat, what happened to the pants? Or did you just randomly grow,” Kate teased, hand grazing your shoulder before she moved to put her hair up in a lazy bun. Your eyes gave the infamous mom glare as you sighed, you were pretty sure you were given the wrong size in pants. First time wearing them, and you had planned to take a trip to Natasha’s office after the game to ask if you can swap pants with how tight they were. A small squeeze in your lower abdomen was there for pressure in your breathing, but it wasn’t fatal yet.

“The pants are a size too small, I plan on going to coaches office after the game to ask for a swap,” You shared the game-plan about your pants with Kate, letting out a soft grumble as she quirked a brow as a teasing giggle left her throat, “maybe coach picked you a size smaller on purpose,”

A smack was emitted from where you were at, you had slapped her bicep with another glare that could kill as the girl put her arms up in defeat, “Joking! I was joking, gosh! Who’s got your panties rolled up?”

You sensed there was a second part Kate wanted to share with that final sentence but luckily the girl was smart enough to not push it anymore. You hauled your softball bag over your shoulder and clapped her on the shoulder with a rough, “Let’s get going, maybe I’ll make you run an extra lap for warmups to put your head in the game,”

“Yeah while you have your head somewhere else,” Kate rolled her eyes and she was lucky she was a few distances behind you as you hissed out her last name in a scolding manner. Walking down the cement path towards the fields as you hauled a bucket of balls while Kate follows behind you like a lost puppy.

“Come on, let’s get our head in the game,”

—

Your head wasn’t in the game. You didn’t know what was happening, you have been struggling to field a simple ground ball and you have bobbled it everytime it got into your mitt and you overthrowed it or was too late. When you were up to bat you could barely hit, it was a slow pitcher which you absolutely hated on waiting for and you fouled it many more times than it went into play. When it went into play? It was dead, dying in the dirt as quick as it hit it and you were thrown out every time you ran through the bag. Your ribs were aching, pants too tight as you struggled to breathe as water dribbled down your chin, sweating profusely as you sat in the corner every time you were in the dugout for being on the offensive side while your teammates hit.

Natasha stood at third base every inning when your team was hitting, when your team was on the field she sat on her bucket giving signals to the catcher and pushing her face into the clipboard everytime a mistake was made. You grimaced every time when you saw the sweaty redhead cringe and you felt the wave of disappointment.

It was the last inning, the last at bat and the score was tied. 6-6, you were on deck and you swung the bat lazily to try and warm yourself up. Try and shake out the jitters, the bat cracked from Kate and went flying to rightfield. Bases were loaded, and a time was called as the other coach ran to the pitchers mound for some type of talk.

A hand found your shoulder, dragging you to the third base area away from earshot as Natasha pulled you back and her slender hands gripped the mask of your helmet, “what’s going on?”

“I-I don’t know, coach I can’t do—,” A jerk forward from the helmet brought you insanely closer to the redhead, piercing green irises staring into yours as she finished your sentence, “you can do this Y/N, stop doubting yourself. You can hit off of her easily, just a small one over the fence and we win. Just time up your load carefully, don’t lunge, and don’t roll your wrists,”

You stared hopelessly into the redheads eyes, how can Natasha give this advice so simply? Cheeks flushed at how your coach was so close as Natasha ever so slightly leaned in and deviously, yet quietly bargained, “you hit a home run over that fence and I’ll take you in my office and fuck you,”

Your eyes widened, mouth agape at the offer, well bargain she handed you. She was your coach and she just offered you sex for a home run? Biting your bottom lip as you blinked before she added on, “I’ve seen the looks you give me, you can’t deny it princess,”

“Okay, okay, I’ll take it but what happens if I don’t?” As soon as you asked the umpire asked—yelled—for you to come up to the plate. Swallowing as the redhead’s eyes darkened before she patted the helmet you wore and you traipsed up to the batter’s plate. 

Stepping into the box, you watched the pitcher wind up and throw a ball right over your head. Steadily breathing out as you stepped out to look over at your coach. No signs, she meant the words she said. Stepping back in and swinging your bat against your cleats like the ritual you do every time you go up to bat. 

Wind up, load back, and you swung your arms forth. The sound of the ball hitting the bat cracked over the field and you dropped it and ran. Watching the baserunners start running, your assistant coach pumped their arms to signal you to turn and go to second. You pumped your legs faster, puffing slightly as you suddenly heard clapping. It was a good hit but was it enough for the spectators to clap. You turned your head to see Natasha clapping as well, a smile on the redhead’s face as you noticed the fielders moved to the side. 

You made it to three and kept running, finally recognizing the fact you hit the ball over the fence. Your team rushed out of the dugout to congratulate you, as soon as you stepped on home plate your thighs were grabbed and you were hauled up as they lifted you and cheered. The yell of game over had everyone dancing in enthusiasm, as soon as you were set down on the dirt you lined up and high-fived the other team with your squeaky mumbles of good game.

—

“There could’ve been a lot of improvement, but it was a good first game,” Natasha spoke as she stood, you and your teammates were sat in the grass in leftfield and listened to her advice for how the game went and her overlook, “you guys make a great team, but if you keep getting in your heads like that and keep on making mistakes we’ll never learn and we will lose every game, luckily Y/N hit that grand slam for us,”

You felt a few hands clap your shoulders, hair down as you were tired and didn’t want to wait until home to take the amount of mini rubber bands out. You were unable to process the congratulations still on how you managed to hit it over the fence as your eyes slightly peered up to look at the redhead, she was quiet for a second before adding on, “rake the fields, put everything away,”

Standing up, you went to go help the teammates go pick up, blinking for a moment before a harsh order came out in the night air, “Not you Y/N, my office, now,”

You swallowed, watching your coach walk past you and you ducked your head and followed Natasha like a lost puppy as confused looks found your teammates faces. It felt like hours walking to the building of your school, watching the redhead open the doors for you and place a hand on your shoulder to guide you to her office.

Door hinges opened with a small creaking in protest, walking in first before two hands grabbed your waist and the door was shut. Hands moving to fumble with the lock of the office door as Natasha’s head pushed into the crevice of your neck as sloppy, wet kisses were littered across your skin. Hands finding her hair and a hopeless whimper left your throat as she kept you pinned against the door as the handle dug painfully into your lower spine.

“Didn’t believe me when I offered you this huh malyshka? Trust me, daddy keeps her promises,” the huskiness of Natasha’s voice sent a throbbing ache between your legs as you mewled as her teeth gently sunk into your throat before the warm muscle of Natasha’s tongue soothed the mark.

“Tell me what you want baby, what does the little winner want from daddy, hmm?” She cooed out mockingly, pulling her head back with a wicked grin on her facial features. A calloused hand grabbing your chin to make you look at her, unable to form a single thought in your head with words. Your body moved on its own, hips thrusting forward against the redheads hip. Hand leaving your face to grip your waist and pushed you back.

“Uh uh, tell daddy what you want or you’re not going to get what you want and I’ll decide for you,” She tutted, a mocking pout finding her perfect lips as she leaned in and pressed a kiss against your pretty lips, teeth gnashing down on your bottom lip as you moaned out. Tongue pushing way into your mouth before she pulled back, leaving you wanting and chasing her lips.

“Want you, please,” You softly whined, hands gripping the redheads coaching shirt as a brow quirked. Her hand moving to unbutton your jersey, fingernails tracing the shape of your bra as she taunted, “what part of me my dear?”

You flushed, swallowing as you grabbed Natasha by the waist and pulled her closer. Smashing your lips into hers and she grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you in before flipping you around. She pushed your hair out of the way and pressed her lips to your neck again, teeth biting, sucking, doing all that she can to leave her marks as a hand went down to grope your ass.

“Fuck, these pants really do show your ass, hm? My perfect little baby with the body of a goddess,” She lovingly cooed, pushing your jersey off your body. Unclasping your bra before her hand cupped one of your breasts, fingers rolling over the nipple as you whined out. Softly moaning into the air, “tell me baby, do you wanna ride daddy’s cock? I’m sure that’s a reward you want, or maybe have you bent over my desk as I fuck that pretty pussy until it’s full,”

Her hand from your ass lifted and grabbed your jaw, tilting your head back so you can look into her eyes, “hmm? Too dumb to think now are we? Poor girl,”

She pulled you away from the door, bringing you over to her desk as she kissed you again. Savoring your taste on her lips as you grasped at her shirt again, hands fiddling with the buckle of your belt before undoing it. Her hands shoved your pants and panties down, revealing your throbbing cunt into the cold air and you gasped.

“Such a slut, I’m your coach and you’re getting off with how I treat you,” She scolded, turning your body around as a hand found the spot between your shoulder-blades and pushed you down so you were bent over her desk. Uncaring for the paperwork, she can always print more. Loving how you were bent, hands gripping the wood like it was your lifeline while you were on the tips of your toes, your entrance open and needy as your arousal stuck to your thighs.

“Mmph, daddy please,” You whimpered out, needy enough as you slowly pushed your hips against the desk to get at least some friction until a slap was emitted on the globe of your ass.

“Don’t move,” Came the harsh words from your coach, a whimper left your lips as you blubbered incoherently. Hearing a belt buckle undone, the slide of pants falling down. The feel of silicone against your thigh had you clench in anticipation, the redhead traced her fingers down your spine before she slid the toy inside you. 

Your eyes crossed, unfamiliar with the stretch and as you felt her hips move back slowly anticipation creeped into your veins before a knock was sounding at the door. You froze, Natasha froze. The door was locked, but if someone were to actually peer through the thick glass on the door the silhouettes of you two would be seen.

“Coach, practice is cancelled tomorrow right?” Came the voice of the familiar blonde, Carol was right outside the door and you felt the lump in your throat. A hand moved to grip your throat, squeezing as your breathing restricted, the gruff voice leaving the body who was behind you.

“Yes Carol, practice is cancelled tomorrow. But I have a very important email I’m writing and you just interrupted me. Would you like a one on one practice with me yourself or leave me alone?” The harshness of Natasha’s words had you gush around the strap and she felt it. A smirk finding her plump lips before a quiet ‘yes coach’ was heard and the sound of feet moving down the hall.

Your fingers clawed at the desk, the grip on your throat didn’t loosen and the redhead slammed the toy back into you. The tip right against your cervix as you cried—well tried to—out. 

“Oh baby, you fit my cock so well, such a pretty girl. You like it when I treat you like this, don’t you?” She cooed out softly, pulling her hips back and thrusting in. Molding her body to your back as her hips snapped steadily, thrusting in and out of you as she held you down as to pitifully nodded and moaned out.

“Daddy’s good girl, fuck I should’ve taken you earlier. Your pussy is so addicting,” She moaned out, her hand leaving your throat as a series of moans left your lips. Pressing her lips to your throat as her hand found your clit, rubbing soothing circles into it as you grinded back into your coach.

“Uh, uh, uh,” left your throat, cockdrunk already as your mind grew hazy. A snort left the redhead’s mouth, a soft snicker escaping the older woman’s throat at your lack of thought. 

“Gonna cum,” you softly whined out, walls clenching around the strap on as you felt the coil in your abdomen tighten to that familiar feeling. A harsh laugh left the coach, before she pulled the toy out of you and a broken cry left your lips. Tears starting to bubble in your eyes, the hand on your clit moved back to your hip.

“Poor baby, you needed to let go that bad?” She mocked, pulling you up from the desk as she sat down in her office chair, pulling you to straddle her lap and face you. A brow quirked and she gave that devious smirk of hers, “I’m sure you can hold it for daddy, ride my cock malyshka,”

You slid back down onto her cock, head nuzzling into the crook of her neck as you felt the gush of arousal flush out around the faux dick and onto Natasha’s thighs. Hips touching hers, before you slowly started to grind.

“That’s a good girl,” She praised, and a moan left your lips as your speed quickened. Grinding went to lifting your hips and bouncing. Your coach’s hands went to your hips and guided your movements, your breath right against your neck. Panting as you had your nails dig into her clothed shoulder.

“Daddy, feels so good,” You moaned out your praise for how the redhead made you feel. Sniffling out as you felt the tug in your core, blinking heavily as you felt the overstimulation every time your clit brushed against the strap. 

“See how good daddy makes you feel baby, all you needed was a bargain for a good fuck and you do good. Are you that much of a slut Y/N, or is this just for me?” She asked, slowing your pace down as you sobbed out between moans. You thought you were going to be able for release as your reward, and all she is doing is refusing it? As frustrated as you are, you can’t help but moan loudly and love her more.

“All for you daddy, please let me cum, I’ll be your good girl,” You begged, and oh you beg so prettily for her. Softly whimpering, she guided your hips quicker again, feeling that sinking feeling come back as you inhaled sharply.

“Let it go baby, make a mess of daddy’s cock,” She permitted your release, and as soon as the sentence was over you snapped your hips faster and felt the coil snap. Juices flooding out of your entrance and over her dick, ruining Natasha’s dress pants and coating your thigh. You shuddered, movements stopping as you shakily breathed.

Thinking you were done with the hazed mind, it wasn’t until you registered the movement of your hips again that Natasha was moving you again, “daddy too much!”

The complaint left your lips lazily, all the redhead could do was scoff, “it’s not too much, daddy will tell you when it’s too much. Now be quiet and let daddy use you, hmm? Daddy needs to be taken care of too,”

You nodded weakly, not able to defy or complain to the redhead anymore. Letting her move your hips, the pleasure and overstimulation taking over but she had a point, Natasha needed to be taken care of right, it’s what you owed her. It wasn’t until you released two more times, and being covered in Natasha’s release is when she called it. She wanted to talk to you about what happened, but when you slumped against her with your nose scrunched, mouth partially open and eyes closed that she decided to let you rest. She put her pants back on, and then dressed you back up. She knew it wasn’t proper, but could she really resist? She left the building with you in her arms and in the passenger seat of her car. And that was all you remembered when you woke up in her arms the next morning, in her bed, with your face pressed in between her boobs without a care in the world for the responsibilities for the day, maybe this could work out after all.

[sugarwarachan]

(･ω･)つ andy's notes: megumi fushiguro when you have a bf he hates. cws: all characters 20+, mild smut, afab!reader, mdni

bsf!megumi who's never once admitted to his years-long crush on you, no matter how many times yuuji and nobara tease him over it.

bsf!megumi who might have convinced himself that he's perfectly content loving you from a distance, but every night he dreams of you in his arms.

bsf!megumi who can normally hold his composure suddenly having to excuse himself from the room whenever you hang out to address the raging cockstand in his pants.

bsf!megumi whose stomach sinks when you start dating someone.

bsf!megumi who hates your scummy boyfriend so much that he actually starts to hate you. why don't you understand that you deserve better? how are you so blinded by pretty words?

bsf!megumi who knows he won't be able to stop himself from saying something so he just avoids you altogether.

bsf!megumi who gets cornered into confronting you by nobara (she grew bored of the moping). he does his best not to notice how beautiful you look, but it's the first thing his eyes take in. he's missed you so much it's like a sucker punch to the gut.

bsf!megumi who does his best not to grin like an idiot when you tell him you dumped that loser. "about time you kicked him to the curb," he says, eyes fixed on the gentle pout of your lips. you roll your eyes at his response, and he knows he's been an immature asshole for avoiding you, but now that he's confronted by the reality of confessing his feelings, he's scared shitless.

bsf!megumi who thinks it should be so simple to say "I've loved you for years," but the words feel inadequate compared to the space you consume in his heart.

bsf!megumi who can't help but laugh when you say, "I come all this way to tell you I left that guy and you won't even make a move?"

bsf!megumi who groans against your mouth when he kisses you, cupping your jaw with one hand and running the other in between your shoulder blades. his mind fuzzes out when your tongues clash, the kiss devolving into a mess of teeth and spit as he wrestles you closer to him

bsf!megumi who loves how responsive you are. "he ever make you feel this good?" he asks as he licks a filthy stripe down your neck, biting at your collarbone and roughly squeezing your tit through your shirt. "didn't touch you as well as your best friend does, huh?"

bsf!megumi who mixes rough and sweet so well, bullying his cock into your quivering hole with rocking strokes before sliding all the way in. "fuck, rolling your eyes back in your head already, baby? i haven't even gotten started." (like father like son)

bsf!megumi who is a fucking menace determined to make you cum as many times as possible to make up for lost time.

2025 © all works belong to @sugarwarachan. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works. masterlist here. divider by @saradika-graphics

[keferon]

Two Peas in a Pod: part 2/?

*slips another piece into your mailbox*

_____________________

Jazz was still feeling a little woozy from his donation in the dark hours of the morning. Blaster had breakfast changed from the usual to something that felt more like a treat, probably a reward for his good behaviour, and to help his body recover. Fish heavy in proteins, fat, all that healthy stuff. Something that normally he would have tried to savour, but he wolfed it down from excitement. Too many questions ran through his head, and most he couldn't bring himself to voice.

The mer, the mer would pull through. Blaster told him about how he had saved their life with his blood. Praised him high and low. Because Blaster knew how Jazz felt about seeing blood, about how hard blood tests were for him, and that was only a tiny vial. Not three big bags of it. Jazz hadn't seen how much they had taken – because he had kept his eye closed until they left in a hurry –, and hearing about it made him dizzy for other reasons, but he honestly felt real proud of himself.

It was a new feeling, different from other moments of pride – like when he figured out the lock codes. Yeah, this gave him butterflies and the drive to help more.

Blaster laughed when Jazz offered that the vets could take more if the other mer needed it. His handler didn't think it would be, but he would pass it on to the vet team.

Jazz's morning checks were a little off, expected with having a little less fluids and feeling off-balance, but it was kept short and quick. Blaster told him that if he learned anything more, he'd tell him next time he came by and then hurried back down to the staff area. Blaster was needed elsewhere, understandably as there weren't many mer experts here, though he did leave Jazz his waterproof stereo if he wanted to play some of his favourites.

But, the orca mer was far too busy causing a whirlpool from the laps he was swimming. He was too excited to sit still, and embarrassment be damned he started practising old vocals. He didn't remember much of his mother tongue, and he was pretty sure that his pronunciation was off, that or had one hell of an accent. Echo-speech was even more rusty. And once he had gone over and over what he could recall, Jazz began to really worry. A few sentences and handful or so of words was all he had? Gods, I hope I can at least make a decent first impression. Blaster said they were just like me, so hopefully, that will give me some starting points.

More than he cared to count, Jazz would swim into the shallow waters of the medical bay and hope to see something through that window. But no one ever came close enough for him to hear any news of the mer. He couldn't even see anything on his radar, wherever they had done treatment, it wasn't in the hospital ward. It almost felt like he was being purposely kept in the dark.

And just when Jazz was starting to worry that things had taken a bad turn, a group of staff turned up around four pm. He wasn't able to ask any questions, or rather they refused to answer. Shooing him away as they got to work. Starting with closing the gate to the bay to 'keep him out'. Jazz could easily climb those walls, but that wasn't the point. Even if the gate window was closed, he could pick up that they were setting up the water hammock. But it wasn't until he heard the cautionary beeping of the hoist lift approaching that it dawned on him – the mer was coming. Now.

"Jazz," Blaster called, "… Jazz," he blew the training whistle and finally got his mer's attention. "Stop pacing and get over here."

"But–" Jazz looked back longingly up the wall.

"Jazz," his tone dropped to a firm one, and Jazz begrudgingly swam over to the pier. The human crouched and made sure that they held eye contact before he spoke. "I need you to promise me that you will stay in your enclosure."

He sunk a little, trying to play into his cuteness, but being far too anxious to really pull it off. "What do you mean?"

"Jazz," now warning him. Blaster knew full well that he was more than capable of getting into or out of places he shouldn't, bloody Houdini mermaid, "this is serious. Things are going well, we want to keep it that way. Which means keeping things calm and feeling safe. You're excited, I get it, we all are. But in about an hour, they'll be waking up and – from past experience seen with wild Mers – they will likely freak out. And the last thing we need is you hauling your tail over that wall and making things worse. Understand?"

The beeping was louder how and the hiss of hydraulics caused Jazz to look up. The arm of the lift was visible over the wall. They're here!

"Jazz," Blaster hopelessly called for his attention once more.

Within moments, a massive bundle was carefully raised, the staff calling out and coordinating. Jazz's gaze was fixed on the black and white fluke poking out, it was the only part of them he could see, and his heart began to race. Once they became hidden by the wall again, Jazz moved back to pacing by the gate without even thinking. Listening to people hopping into the water to unstrap the mer and call back n' forth. "Careful, careful! – Watch the head! – Someone give me a hand over here! – We're clear on this side! – Keep the head up!"

Really starting to sound like a broken record, Blaster chirped the whistle and called out to him again. The expression he wore must have been pretty pitiful because the look on Blaster's face dropped. "If I open the view port��� will you promise me that you will wait, that you will stay in your enclosure?"

"I promise," he answered hastily, placing his hands on the gate, over the panel that would slide open.

"And that you will wait until everything is in the clear, till the staff come to oversee the integration. There will be no rushing things and no asking staff when we will open the gate."

"I promise," he repeated, trying not to beg.

Satisfied, Blaster pulled out his radio, "Blaster to Control; when the team is out of the Mer enclosure's medical bay, open the view port. Jazz's stress is mounting without a visual."

"Can do," came a quick reply.

Though, opening the panel was not. Several minutes went by, the hoist had cleared out, and much of the staff had returned to their other duties. Only two remained double-checking the mer's breathing and pulse. The moment that the last of them left, Jazz heard the lock disengage, and he retracted his hands as the panel shifted and began to slide open. The window was too small to get more than his hand – maybe up to his elbow if he wanted to push it – through, and sat just at water level– any movement sending water hopping to either side. But it gave him a clear view of the surface area inside.

Oh.

Oh. Jazz stopped breathing. While the mer's body was mostly supported by the fabric of the hammock, cradling them on their side, effectively hiding most of them from Jazz's angle. Propped up on a soft floating platform was the mer's head, face towards the gate. Sharp features and elegantly shaped finials, with flattering lines of their markings complimenting the peaceful expression as they slept. The butterflies from earlier came back stronger than ever, his heart thundering as words fumbled from Jazz's lips, "he's beautiful…"

_____________________

-GLC

Orca Prowl really is just-- too fucking pretty, omg, I'm living through Jazz in this moment like when I first saw your designs of him.

I'm more than happy to continue writing for you, you bring me so much joy. I screamed when I saw how much you liked it. If you have any requests you would like me to add to the story, leave it in the tags or comments ♡ I now plan to continue until the tsunami and a bit afterwards, maybe more, we'll see~

Upd: There is a next part!

Previous

Oh. MY GOD. OKAY ALRIGHT OKAY ALRIGHT OKA

I'M ABOUT TO START PACING IN CIRCLES JUST LIKE JAZZ OVER HERE KDLCNFJFLFB PL E A S E THIS IS SO GOOD. The tension?? You can fucking TASTE it IT'S SO GREAT GLC I LOVE YOU

The way it all starts at night and then you (as a reader) have all this additional time to boil in your anticipation?? So fucking great. Like you can really feel how little power Jazz has over the wholse situation. The plot is moving but he doesn't have any saying in it. Well. Yet heheh

Anyway haha. Im normal and I made some art>:D

[mythalism]

i think whats so interesting about the severe fumble of the dragon age elves is how i get the feeling that the devs underestimated how many people identify so strongly with them, even outside of the cultures they are most often cited as analogous to. you dont have to be indigenous or jewish to see yourself or your family or your people in their struggle. anyone who has ever experienced racism, xenophobia, religious persecution, or any sort of social and economic discrimination can find themselves reflected in the elves of thedas. anyone who has experienced poverty. anyone who has ever experienced the threat of sexual violence. perhaps not all of the experience would resonate but some aspect of it would. and even if they weren't so universally relatable, they should have been treated better for the way they do so clearly mimic real world experiences of genocide, racism and discrimination and the implications of veilguard's message to just "forget the past and move on" is frankly disgusting when viewed as an answer to the same questions faced daily by the real world cultures they reflect, and yesterday's anon showed that brilliantly.

but im also fascinated by the thought process behind how they just got so readily written off as an irrelevant monolith. it feels like they thought it would make no difference for players to lose this major point of connection to the world. epler's comment about how the "elves had their time to shine" haunts my nightmares. where are they getting these ideas from like genuinely? i dont understand where this conception of the players being sick of elves comes from. sick of solas, sure. even ancient elves. this is a widely expressed sentiment all over the internet and i don't blame people for it. but modern elves? city elves and enslaved elves and new dalish clans? are people actually saying this somewhere? or did they just conflate people being sick of how over-exposed solas and ancient elves were with being tired of elves as a people? did they think that requests for more dwarf and qunari lore meant people wanted the elves to be narratively absent? and did they really try to remedy that with giving titan/harding a throwaway line about how the elves have "thrived" while they suffered? and not actually really giving the dwarves or qunari anything substantial anyway? or did they fear criticism for writing them "wrong" and decided it was better to barely write them at all? did they think the players just wouldn't care? did they think at all?

[kxtsukixoxo]

i am curious at to what you think bakugou would do if his parents didnt directly approve of his gf, i mean everyone always says that mitsuki would LOVE his gf directly but i dont think it's always that easy imo

˚.🎀༘⋆ a mothers heart. ft ; katsuki bakugou

i love love love the dynamic that mitsuki would welcome his gf with open arms, but i also believe that mitsuki is protective over her baby boy. (*´˘`*)

katsuki would have to really LOVE you in order to fight for you, he seems really reserved when it comes to his parents, it’d take him awhile to finally budge and bring you home. despite his hasty comments about mitsuki, and the frequent name calling, i’d like to think katsuki really values her opinions and takes it into account, no matter the situation. after all, mitsuki is his mother.  

you were excited, of course, but also anxious. you’re finally meeting your boyfriends parents after nine whole months of dating, katsuki wasn’t a soft lover, he radiated tough love, he didn’t love like a puppy, rather like a tiger with her pups, rough but somehow gently balanced, you figured he’d have to take after one of his parents, this would be a trip to hell. he didn’t like the idea of his parents meeting you, he hated getting them involved in his own business, but he came to the decision that you had to meet them, if things were getting this serious, and he needed his parents approval. 

after dropping you off and making sure you were safe, katsuki stopped by his parents house once again, tension filled the air as they resided in the living room. pin drop silence remained in the room, as mitsuki crossed her arms and tapped her manicured nails against her elbow, her words echoed in the room as katsuki looked at her with shock, “we need time to think”, masaru’s eyebrows furrowed, as he looked at katsuki with nothing but guilt, “what the fuck is there t’think about it! don’t give me that fuckn’ look” he grunted out as he got up, stuffing his hands in his pockets. he headed towards the door, just before he could turn the knob,

“you need to understand kats…we can’t just give you away to anybody.” masaru spoke, “we took care of you and made you the man you are today” he squeezed his wife’s shoulder as she took a seat next to him, mitsuki’s lips parted as she readied herself to speak, there was no denying she was protective over her son, who wouldn’t be? especially after all he’s been through. “we respect that you seeked our approval, and all we’re asking for is time to think about her, she’s sweet kats…but can she handle you?” 

katsuki’s arms dropped to his side, his mothers words echoed like live wire, 

this entire time, this wasn’t about you. 

this was about him, his outbursts, his rough nature. his aggressiveness. 

mitsuki worried that no woman would ever be able to love katsuki, but she was entirely wrong. you accepted katsuki, scars and all. 

“you don’t know her…take your time to think or fuckn’ whatever. but please…don’t take this away from me” he clenched his fists as he turned around to twist the knob, “i..love her.” 

©️ 2025 kxtsukixoxo  all rights reserved. do not modify, repost or claim my work as yours if you wish to use my png please credit. me.

[shikaizer]

STILL YOURS p.b x reader

summary : Paige is your wife for 4 years, until a huge fight occured between the two of you leading for a messy divorce. But your child needed paige, causing a situation that will pull the both of you back together.

warning : unresolved feelings, breakdown, cussing, bruise.

a/n : might make a part 2 leading to smut what do you guys think?

You groaned when the phone rang again, it was paige's number. paige badly wanted to borrow your 4 year old daughter, celes, she was the child both of you adopted because you have mentioned to her that you always wanted to have a child. so the two of you decided it was time for the both of you to be a mother, after taking care of all papers and legal rights both of you have embraced the child and loved her deeply.

Until, the both of you gotten a divorce, paige have packed all her things with celes crying, your heart sank that she had to witness all of this. But at this time paige had no choice but to leave.

till this day, celes is always looking for her other mommy but you aren't ready too see her ever again.

ignoring the fact that paige have been texting and calling you to let her meet her child and spend time with her beloving daughter, which you firmly declined and restricted her for even trying to think your going to accept.

paige|I want my child.

paige| i swear if you dont let me see her your going to see me in the fucking court

paige| dont be a dick and let me spend some time with her

you| lol suck my dick

paige| are you fucking serious?

paige| missed call ■

paige| answer the fucking call right now.

you let out a sigh answering the call and you leaned your back to the couch while caressing celes hair as she was sleeping on your lap.

"stop being difficult, im serious im going to call my lawyer." you scoffed hearing her voice to the other side. "look you should have thought about that when you left the both of us." you muttured back as if your in the right "you fucking threatened to kill me once i dont leave" she shouted and you laughed. "be greatful that im fucking sending her pictures to you." you spat.

"let me see our child." she stated opening her video looking over at the camera her blue eyes shining. "geeez" you breath out and opened the camera flipping them to show little celes sleeping on your lap, and obviously your thighs showing, you are wearing and extremely small cycling, you swear you heard paige cursed under hear breath but you let it pass.

"please let me borrow her im literally begging now." she muttured and you hesitated for a second and spoke up. "fuck okay god, i'll think about it." you groaned hanging up the phone.

. . .

with celes constant whining and crying you cant help but quiver your lips trying to calm her down. it was all so heavy for you.

"please my love stop crying.." you caressed celes back as she was having another tantrum. she always do this whenever and you dont understand why.

"i want mommy!!!" at this point, tears started to fall on your eyes as you sobbed, you are very stressed and its true that taking care a child by yourself is very hard, you always told paige you can handle her by yourself proving to her that both of you are doing good. while shes busy with her games as she was the top wbb player at this moment, truth be told, your starting to miss paige. whenever celes is having her tantrum she is there to calm her down, and would comfort you after, she made things easier actually.

you sighed and continued rubbing celes back as she starts to relax and drift off to a sleepy state. you made your way to her bed laying her down and tucking her comfortably. you sat on the edge of her bed looking around at her room, the one you and paige designed together chaotically.

you took out your phone and opened paige's contact number, you hesitated to move your fingers and looked up squeezing your eyes shut before turning your attention back to your phone typing 'im not letting you borrow our child, but you can come here tommorow and spend some few days.' you whined and plopped your body down the bed debating if you should send it or not, you decided not to and just let your phone sit beside you drifting off to sleep.

sensing the morning light behind your eyelids, you groan smiling feeling the comfort, you put your arm around celes to realize shes not in her bed, you quickly sit up rubbing your eyes thats when you hear celes laughing and talking, you felt terrified because it was only the two of you. you looked like a dumbass sitting down on the bed lots of thoughs gathering your mind.

you finally pushed yourself up walking outside, your jaw dropped seeing paige sitting on the couch while lifting celes up, both of them were playing, you stomped up to them and see paige's confused expression as she was met with a very not welcome expression.

celes looked over to you with a big smile plastered on her face. "yay mommy!" she exclaimed and signalled you to hug her, you didn't wanna ruin this moment for her since it has been long since she saw both her mommy together. you hugged celes tightly and you looked over at paige mouthing her 'what the hell are you doing here?' she raised her eyebrows and whispered 'are you high? you told me to come here.' you looked at her doubtful and celes pulled away.

"mommy hug!" she pointed at paige and you, your jaw dropped wanting to jump out of a window. paige took your hand and pulled you to her hugging you thightly while you fell to her lap. causing celes to jump and exclaimed as she ran to her room excitedly probably to get some toys.

you pushed yourself away from her touch and bit your lip. "you look like shit" paige looked up at you and you rolled your eyes smiling "thanks" you looked over at the sight of her bag celes walking out of the bedroom again holding a toy.

"whats with that big ass bag?" you raised your eyebrows and she chuckled "staying her for a week. i have no games till next month" as your about to speak celes spoke up. "a week! yay!" she exclaimed hugging paige. "we will go travel mommy please!!" celes pleaded and paige nodded. "yes baby we will."

You are giving paige the most scariest stare but she just smirked proud at you obviously winning over celes.

you looked over the time and it was almost lunch, you cursed yourself and rushed to the island kitchen. "hey um did you feed celes breakfast!?" you raised your voice for her to hear.

you heard no reply and scoffed putting out some ingridients that you will be preparing to cook. opening the faucet paige walked over to you, you pressed your weight on the counter looking over at her. "we need to talk." paige uttured and you frowned "about what?" you tilt your head and she sighed "are you always sleeping in? if i haven't gotten here celes would be now starving." she states walking closer to you. "n-no this was the first time i slept in." you state tripping on your own words "and she always wakes me up you know that." you added.

"no? when i came here she was sitting down at the couch by her self." your jaw dropped heart sinking "what if she did something in here that will be the cause of an accident?" she continued furious in her tone.

"your being iresponsible, you should give me the child and my mom will take care of her." you scowled shaking your head.

"not fucking happening." you turned your head back and chopped up some vegetables that celes loves.

"your crazy,i know you cant take care or her alone." she walked closer and you pushed her "leave me alone, your lucky im letting you stay here."

paige clicked her tounge taking your hand, stopping you from cooking. "im gonna fucking stab you i swear" you threatened and she rolled her eyes, and celes walked in looking at the two of you.

"mommy are you fighting?" you quickly shake your head smiling at her "nooo baby me and mommy are just talking" she squeled nodding taking paige's hand dragging her to the living room.

you sighed stressing out as you continued to do your cooking, throughout the lunch, it was akward for the both of you stealing glances at each other while your daughter was the only source of the noise.

paige decided to bring celes out a themepark, you dressed celes up, it was a win for you since you get to have the day for yourself. as they are about to leave celes was pouting. "why babygirl?" paige leaned down to her level as i stare at her.

"you need to kiss mommy" our jaw dropped and paige let out a smirk "okay then..." she leaned down to kiss you in the cheeks and celes shaked her head "in the lips!" celes whined and paige smiled covering her eyes with her hand, when paige was about to kiss you, your quickly put out your middle finger avoiding her and she rolled her eyes amused.

"there done. lets go?" celes jumped and nodded holding her mothers hand and going out.

having all the time by yourself, you made yourself comfy, cleaning the whole house and showering afterwards, you put paige's bag inside your bedroom the both of you used to share and bought extra blanket for her to use, your letting her sleep in the bed because it would be really cruel if you made her sleep on the couch assuming she will be staying for a week, you didn't dare get mad because celes seemed very happy about it.

finishing everything, you get all comfy putting on your favorite show in the tv. but drifting off to sleep.

your awoken by paige opening the door and gently closing it, lifting yourself to look at them, seeing celes knocked out sleeping as she was carried "aww our baby had too much fun." you cooed walking to them taking her away from paige's arms lifting her, walking to her room.

as you tucked celes in, you made your way to the living room. paige was plopped down on the couch manspreading staring at the tv. you sat down beside her not really close and the both of you made eye contact. she seemed tired and you awed.

"she was so energetic" paige laughed throwing her head back "she always been." you chuckled resting your body on the couch.

"hey whats this?" paige pointed at your arm, a purple bruise. "probably when i was doing chores." you shrugged and paige looked at you with a hint of worried.

"i knew it you cant take care of yourself alone." she spat and you rolled your eyes. "oh please. im doing just fine." deep inside your not, you fiddled with your fingers and she bring your chin up to look at her.

"i missed you." your eyes widen at the sudden confession. you never expected this and it was making you dazed.

"you missed me...?" you asked unsure and she nodded shifting closer to you warmth tangling. "yes, so damn much" you took a heavy breath and your face softened. your in shock and in confusion as you kept quiet.

"please say something." she muttured looking at you the lingering sensation in the air have you choked.

"mm..sorry.. i miss you too.." you confessed and smiled. "when you left, i tried to stay strong for celes. but i always fail." you started sobbing looking down and paige kissed your forehead.

"but...fuck.. you know? i just needed you as always.." you sighed and buried your face on her neck.

"i know love i know..." she whispered calming you down.

she kissed your jaw ane spoke up.

"i need you...." .

[alicentsgf]

we talk a lot about shauna losing jackie and her baby boy and yes those are major traumas. however, i think the moment that truly changed her fundamentally was butchering javi. that moment is truly symbolic of what shes sacrificed for all of the others. she let him die to save nat and then his blood was literally on her hands because no one else could handle the burden of butchering him. this is a kid she LIKED. that she had some small bond with. she had to pull her headband over her eyes because she couldnt bear to look at what she was doing. and the others just left her alone out there cutting up his body because none of them could bear to even watch it. so shauna shoulders it alone. how does the human brain even cope with that experience? especially since every single time gen brings back a kill, shauna has to butcher that animal and relive that moment in some way again and again

and whats crazy is yes shauna resorts to violence easily, shes impulsive and deeply angry, but she doesnt enjoy killing. when she threatened the carjacker her words were much more about the power she felt over him, enjoying the fear of someone who'd wronged her, than actually threatening his life. shes willing to kill for power and control, but her relationship with the actual physical act is complex. sometimes trauma can become strangely familar and soothing, maybe thats why shauna butchers the rabbit in season 1. its like a fucked up coping mechanism based in her need to feel a level of control. and it was okay in her mind, because the rabbit had wronged her, ruined her flowers. but when gen comes back from a hunt with nothing, dont you think shaunas the one who chooses which innocent duck or rabbit has to die so that everyone can eat? like why do you think she cried over the goat? It was probably the first time in her life she was handed something innocent and told, very explicitly, that she was not going to have to hurt it.

essentially what im saying is you dont have to agree with shaunas actions to see her point of view. all she does is feed them. she told them it was what jackie wanted. she told them to wait for javi to drown. each time shes shouldered the actual burden of the choice. and all whilst not even having any faith, in the wilderness or otherwise, to alleviate her guilt. pregnant and starving and she never took extra, she makes sure everyone eats to the detriment of herself, and what does she get in return? shes left alone. in pain. she lashes out at anyone who comes near her and because of it they give up on her, like she isnt what they made her. reliving her trauma every time she peels the skin off a stag. her baby is turned into a diety for a faith she doesnt even believe in. jackie and javi too. the others take her real, human losses and make them mythology, stake a claim on them before shes even had a chance to properly grieve. and ofc these are just kids in an impossible situation needing something to believe in, so you cant even rly judge them for it. but that doesnt make shaunas rage any less understandable

[enigmeyyy-writes]

I definitely think a lot of this is really interesting now that I'm rewatching the show again to write my fanfictions...

Katara definitely had her faults (and it was kinda wrong of her to tell her older brother that he didn't love their mother as much, especially because he most likely had more memories of her alive in comparison), but she was still a 14-year-old girl thrust into adult responsibility in the middle of a war. She is misunderstood a lot of the time from a fan's perspective because (in all honesty) a lot of us watched the show as kids and either thought she was super cool or super annoying. I even only started to find Katara annoying after I was older--and that was mainly because in times when she did attempt to "solve" things or "fix" something she wasn't mature enough yet to understand how to handle it responsibly. Sokka was a lot like this too, and we see him getting blamed a lot less. Both of them were standing in as leaders in their tribe during the war, and both of them left. Sure, the Avatar showed up, but even Aang was running away from responsibility until he realized he had to face the consequences of his actions!

Past this point is a lot of me talking about how I'm addressing a lot of this in my fan works, so check it out if you're interested!

I think a lot of my thoughts on this topic stem from the fact that I want to explore the emotional and responsibility commitments the characters of ATLA have weighing on them. In the AU I'm writing, for example, the characters (set in canon) are aged up and a lot of them have more people they are attached to. Since this was a Katara-centric post, I'll also include what I have in mind for my Katara fic.

Growing Pains centers around the letters Katara sends home to her and Sokka's childhood friend, Mali. He was the oldest of the boys left behind by the tribe because he just didn't quite make the age cut, and now serves as a hunter and protector for the tribe. He was definitely upset when his friends left him, but he knew that if they were to travel with the Avatar he had to stay and protect their tribe. Katara sends her letters detailing the stories of her adventures to Mali but soon realizes that she left a lot behind at home for what was turning out to be a perilous and risk-filled adventure.

And on the Aang side of things (because let's face it, a twelve-year-old boy having childish immaturity and the weight of the world on their shoulders is NOT the best combination), I wanted to explore more of his energy and experience of learning maturity after hardship in a Book 3 and post-war fic titled Spitfire.

Spitfire centers around one of Zuko's childhood friends (an OC because I think he deserved friends he could actually trust prior to joining the Gaang) named Soru coming to terms with the fact that he never truly was against the Avatar even though he's from the Fire Nation. Escapism at its finest--truly. As Aang has to come to terms with the new reality the world is entering after the defeat of Fire Lord Ozai, he has to learn how to deal with the weight of the political aspect of society the rest of his friends (and former enemies for that matter) were already wrapped up in.

All in all, I really think exploring aspects of the characters of such a beloved show that aren't really addressed is such an interesting thing to do. I applaud all other ATLA writers on the platform (and any platform) for either just sticking to canon or coming to terms with the flaws that are either over-exaggerated or under-represented in fanfiction, but I am not one of you! I want to explore the inklings of depth we get from this fun show, especially since I'm approaching this from a perspective in which the characters are older and arguably have more responsibility on their shoulders.

I'd really appreciate it if anyone would check out my stories (will be posted on here and ao3) or at least show interest in them! I've worked really hard to put all the details together behind the scenes, so any support or showing you enjoy my works/ideas is greatly appreciated!

I just watched Avatar for the first time all the way through, and yeah, it’s great, but the one thing that surprised me was how different Katara was compared to the fandom interpretation I’d seen and internalized before watching.

Like, before you watch Avatar, you’ve seen all these memes about Katara and her mom, and based on those memes, you assume it’s one of those lines you have to get used to hearing at least once every episode. But then you watch the show and realize that she only talks about her mom maybe five or six times per season and you also realize she only brings her up when she’s trying to comfort someone or empathize with them because that’s how she processes her grief and that’s one way she connects with people.

Or you hear the infamous line, “then you didn’t love [our mother] the way I did” and you prepare yourself for one of the worst character assassinations ever only to see the scene after nearly three seasons worth of context and realize she was kinda right. She’s been the mother, the nurturer, the comforter. She’s been patient, gentle, and accommodating where everyone else has gotten to be insensible and reckless and childish, and the one moment where she allows herself to feel her grief, suddenly she’s this evil bitch and not, y’know, a 14 year old girl whose been thrusted into adulthood in a way no other character has. A 14 year old girl who should be allowed immaturity and raw emotion and anger instead of the patience and grace she’s been forced to extend to every character without even the smallest amount of gratitude or even consideration in return.

Or you see all of the clips where Katara puts Aang in the “friendzone” and you expect to have this wishy washy back and forth where Aang is putting his feelings out there only to have Katara neither commit nor express any clear reciprocation or rejection. Then you watch and realize that, as cute as the ship is initially, that there’s never a point where Aang returns any comfort or grace to Katara despite her always doing this for him to the point of coddling. That for as much as Aang says he loves her, he never seems to outgrow his perception of her so he can recognize her as someone who feels grief, anger, and pain as much as she expresses love, kindness, and maturity. And instead of having moments where he learns to see her beyond her strength or compassion, you’re instead given moments where Aang forces his feelings onto her, both romantic and non-romantic, and Katara is expected to just…shoulder those feelings the way she shoulders everyone else’s.

Katara is the most misunderstood character in the show. As much as people recognize the complexities of Zuko, Sokka, and Azula, they struggle to do the same for Katara because they see her struggles as somehow lesser, and therefore, less deserving of sympathy. They can handle her so long as she’s being endlessly patient and loving and kind, but the moment her endless love, patience, and kindness runs out, she’s suddenly this annoying bitch who can’t shut up about her mother or reciprocate Aang’s feelings. But Katara’s trauma does matter as much as anyone else’s. No, she wasn’t banished from her kingdom. No, she didn’t lose her entire community, and no, she isn’t the only one who lost her mother. But the difference between her and everyone else whose experienced loss because of the Fire Nation is that she’s never given time to process her trauma. Aang gets to lean on Katara constantly. Toph gets to express her feelings to Katara, and yeah, Sokka also lost their mother, but unlike Katara, he isn’t put in the position of being a substitute for everyone’s parent. He even admits that he sees his sister as a mother. The only characters who ever comfort Katara or allow her to vent is Zuko and her father and that’s, like, three scenes in a show where the other characters are consistently given opportunities to seek out Katara for unconditional support.

The fandom interpretation of Katara has been so bastardized that even those who haven’t watched the show know her for this fanon version and not for who she is. She’s such an interesting character beyond her fandom limitations, though. She’s brave, hot-headed, and hopeful as well as gentle and caring. She wishes to learn waterbending, not only because she wants to fight in the war, but because she wants to continue her culture’s practices because, and people often forget this, she also lost an entire subculture within her already fractured tribe. And she wants to defeat the Fire Nation both because of her deep love and empathy for other people, but also because she wants to avenge her mother. But because some of the fans have reduced Katara to a bitch who constantly whines about her mother and friendzones Aang, you wouldn’t know any of this, and it sucks because she’s the only character whose been dumbed down to such an extent.

[anghimalaaynasapuso]

Your work is amazing, I love the way you interpret Simon’s personality and speech patterns in the prosthetic arm Simon fic.❤️

hello, anon! thank you so much for the kind words. i just wanted to take this opportunity to post this deleted part of prosthetic arm simon.

sfw. angst (?). highschool dropout simon. shame.

the prosthetic is finished.

it fits like a second skin. moves smooth, seamless, with no lag between thought and motion. it’s perfect. better than anything he could’ve gotten himself. better than the overpriced models he looked at years ago, wondering if he could stomach the debt just to feel normal again.

and for a moment, as he flexes his fingers, as he watches the metal articulate like flesh, he feels… proud. proud of you, of your work, of the precision in every detail. he turns his hand over, watching the way the joints move, the faint hum of technology so advanced he still doesn’t fully understand it.

but then— the thought creeps in, unbidden, unwelcome.

his throat tightens.

does this mean he doesn’t have an excuse to see you anymore?

his fingers still, mid-motion.

the past few months have been good. better than he expected. seeing you, talking to you, getting to know you beyond the surface-level interactions he usually keeps with people.

but now?

now there’s no more check-ups. no more adjustments. no more need for him to stop by so you can make small tweaks, run diagnostics, ensure everything’s running smoothly.

simon swallows, something cold curling in his chest. he tells himself he’s being ridiculous. that if he really wanted to see you, he could just— just call, just text, just ask.

but that’s not how he works.

he’s spent so long just coasting with people. staying at arm’s length, keeping interactions simple, necessary, easy to walk away from.

but you? you’re not easy to walk away from.

“you did good,” he says, and he means it. he just hopes you can’t hear everything else under it.

you don’t seem to notice his unease, too excited as you bounce on your heels, practically beaming.

“oh- i have news!”

he blinks. tries to steady himself. “yeah?"

“my thesis got picked to be presented at congress!”

it takes him a second. longer than it should. he hears the words, knows what they mean, but they feel far away, like his mind is still caught in the spiral from before.

but then he sees the way you’re looking at him, the pure joy on your face, and something inside him lurches

“shit,” he breathes. “that’s- that’s incredible.”

and it is. you deserve this. you deserve more than this.

he shows up to the congress.

he doesn’t tell you he’s coming. he doesn’t even decide until the last minute, standing in front of his closet, staring at the one half-decent button-up he owns.

but then he’s there, standing outside the venue, and he brings flowers.

he’s never done that before. never even bought flowers before, really. but he stands outside the venue, fingers tight around the cheap bouquet, feeling ridiculous and out of place.

he feels out of place.

too big, too rough, too obviously not part of the sleek, academic crowd milling around in suits and dresses. he tugs at his sleeves, shifting his weight, half-ready to just leave the flowers somewhere and go before—

then he sees you. scanning the crowd, eyes searching.

and when you spot him— you light up.

like he’s supposed to be here. like he’s not just some guy who stumbled in, unsure if he even belongs in moments like these.

you rush over, practically colliding into him, and he barely has time to react before you’re grabbing the flowers, pressing your face into them, laughing breathlessly.

“you came.”

his throat works. he clears it, rubbing the back of his neck.

“’course i did,” he mutters.

you smile.

…

he knew this was a bad idea.

he knew from the moment he walked into the restaurant, stiff in his chair, palm sweating against the napkin in his lap.

knew when you slid into the seat across from him, looking bright and effortless and so at ease, still glowing from your big presentation, still beaming about the congress.

knew when he looked down at the menu and realized he didn’t recognize half the words on it.

simon’s spent years in places like this— quiet, dimly lit, the air thick with the smell of good food and low conversation. but he’s always been alone. always sat in a corner with his back to the wall, a meal in front of him and no one expecting him to talk.

but now— now there’s you.

and you’re talking, telling him about the congress, about the people you met, the questions they asked. you sound so fucking excited, like the whole world is opening up in front of you, and simon—

simon just nods.

he doesn’t know what to say. doesn’t know how to keep up.

he’s never been smart like you. never been the type to sit in lecture halls, to write papers, to stand in front of a room full of academics and present something that matters.

he barely finished school. left home at sixteen, signed his life away at eighteen, spent more years holding a gun than a pen.

simon’s just good at breaking it.

he doesn’t belong in places like this. doesn’t belong next to you. you who's all bright ideas and ambition, the kind of person who builds things, who makes the world better.

he shifts in his seat, hyper-aware of how he looks— broad shoulders hunched awkwardly, big hands clumsy against the silverware, a goddamn mutt at a dinner table.

he wonders if you notice. if you see it. if you realize you could do better.

your food arrives. you thank the waiter, pick up your fork—

and before you can even take a bite, it slips out.

“i-”

you pause, fork halfway to your mouth.

simon grips his napkin under the table, flexes his fingers, heart thudding heavy in his ribs.

he shouldn’t ask. should just let this be a nice dinner, let you go home, let you move on.

but—

“would you…” he swallows, throat dry, stomach tight.

he shouldn’t ask.

“would you want to go on a date with me?”

the words hit the table like lead.

silence.

he doesn’t breathe. doesn’t move. because fuck, he actually said it.

and now there’s nothing but the space between you, the quiet hum of conversation, the faint clink of cutlery against plates—

and you. staring at him.

he braces for rejection. tells himself it’s fine, it’s fine, it’s—

“yeah,” you say, voice light with something he can’t name. “i would.”

his stomach drops.

relief. disbelief. something dangerously close to hope.

he exhales, tension bleeding from his shoulders. nods, just once, like he’s acknowledging an order. like his hands aren’t trembling under the table.

“okay,” he mutters.

then, quieter—

“good.”

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Eldritch Ex-Husband ///////

Your now ex-husband is incredibly surprised when the authorities are dispatched to your new house when he enters. Thinking nothing of it he broke the knob of your new home, thinking after all that time talking with the judge over some foreign topic you’d both be settling into the new place. Turns out this ‘divorce’-thing and ‘restraining order’-stuff meant something after all. That he couldn’t be with you and the baby.

“Wait, the dee - force means I don’t get to come home? What–?”

“Sir, if you give me trouble it’ll only hurt your chances of seeing your kid more.”

“Wait I can’t see him? (Y/n)! (Y/n)-honey, please!”

“Sir, please put your hands behind your back.”

The only reason he doesn’t suck their brains out through their noses+ fight more is because he’s so devastated as he thinks about how in the dark about cruel-human-practices. Only now does it register that when you were oh-so cutely crying about leaving, you weren’t talking about a late night run to the store to satisfy your cravings. That the word he had dismissed as something you wanted to buy was actually an action. An action that meant he’d be deprived of the most important person in his life.

“Hello?”

“......I did not understand before….but I understand now.”

“Kilton? You know a restraining order extends to calls, right?”

“IM nOt LetTInG yOu go—”

Click.

“Creep.”

As he reluctantly uses the resources proposed to him, to argue for custody he has time to think about when you first mentioned the word. But the more he replays those heavenly moments with you he realizes how often your brow was scrunched and a vein was popping from that kissable forehead. It’s then that your ex-husband begins to realize just how little he was actually listening to you. Ashamed, he’s realized that while he finds all your actions absolutely irresistible it didn’t mean you were happy. And he really had no one to blame but himself.

“Hello this is Kilton (L/n) if you have a message leave it at the tone….beep.”

“Hey I hope I got the right number but I need your help with the baby….there’s stuff going on that I have no idea how to deal with. I won’t call the police or tell anyone..I just need….some help. And you're the only one who can give it to me.”

“OF COURSE i’LL BE RIGht oVER!”

“Wait you never set up your voicemai—”

When you left your husband, you were tired of being so confused all the time. Your husband, your best friend was keeping you in the dark for a long time now. Starting from the occasionally odd behavior you’d witness him do, that he’d brush off as if it were nothing. Like the doors in the house that have begun to open to alternate dimensions (that’s what you believe but your husband will not explain in any way) ignoring your concerns and calling you being ‘silly.’ It was annoying but you hadn’t died yet so it wasn’t that bad…until you got pregnant.

“How can this be?”

“Yippee I told you, that one took!”

“No, I literally can’t.”

“Of course, you can babe, you already are look at your little bump.”

“No like I literally can’t this is unbelievable.”

Whether you physically can and were vigilant in prevention or you physically should not be able to conceive matters not. You are pregnant. Or you were. And while dealing with the intense hormones and birthing pains and gravity-defying phenomena happening in your home, your ex-husband would explain nothing. Doing nothing but smile wistfully at you while you demanded to know why the fridge was inching closer every time you turned the corner. Any sane person could only handle so much of his pretend assurances that you were just losing your mind. 

But hindsight 20/20 you should’ve known you couldn’t get rid of your eldritch ex-husband with your eldritch baby. 

“Hey you left the door unlocked, so I let myself in. Babe, you can’t be doing that it’s really unsa–the furniture doesn’t look at all like it did before.”

“Of course it doesn’t! Because your son has decided to rearrange it with his humming!” 

“That’s not a hum, Love. He’s singing a hymn of Utter Chaos–”

“I DON’T CARE WHAT IT IS MAKE HIM STOP.”

As you suspected the root of all the inexplicable happenings in your life were because of your ex-husband and by extension the little bundle that has been doing all sorts of things a normal baby shouldn’t. Like humming the ‘utter chaos song’ or making supplies float over to you while changing him or how at the end of his bath the water turns red and evaporates in an echo of screams. It’s just a little alarming.

“Where is the baby?”

“In that other dimension.”

“Excuse me?”

“Isn’t that something familiar to you? Every now and then he just goes into this other dimension that let’s his laugh morph the walls a little.”

“Oh my. That’s new for me too.”

Surprisingly despite your husband’s now-confirmed-eldritch-heritage he’s not an exact expert on everything his son does. Apparently no one from his world/dimension/atternate plane of existence does everything your son does and is blissfully writing off as something from your side of the family. He’ll shrug and use the opportunity to listen to you list the observations you’ve made about your darling offspring and maybe compliment you on your vigilance as a new unfortunately single parent. Don’t worry it won’t be that way for long!+

“So the blood water thing. It happens whenever he interacts with water.”

“Oh I know that one it’s an old habit of mine, for storing water for later!”

“What about the metal-eating?”

“Metal eating? With no teeth? Beats me must have gotten a taste from all those utensils you’re so fond of. By the way parenthood looks good on you have I told you that?”

As he becomes more of a constant presence in your home, there's a startling change in your baby boy’s behavior. It doesn’t stop but it’s a lot less destructive. Finally, you could have the delivery crew enter the yard without them being swallowed by the portal to your son’s crib. Finally, you can afford to have a couple-hour meet and greet with your family without anyone inexplicably sprouting horns. So reluctantly you let him back into your life with very specific conditions.

“You can’t stay the night.”

“Aww but aren’t you worried about me going home in the dark?”

“I know you’re not just some helpless human, so no. Second rule no kissing or lovey dovey things with me.”

“Got it. So vague I can work with that.”

“And finally–”

“EEEKK! WHAT DID HE DO TO MY BABY!?”

“Oh guess someone’s up from their nap.”

“I’ll distract her with a ring to her doorbell, you change back the dog.”

“As always, please try to turn down her invites for dinner this time. I don’t think I can spare her if she upsets him again.”

“No promises!”

Kilton realizes that what he has with you doesn’t mean he’s equally let back into your life, especially since so many other couples ailed by this (dee)force co-parent more or less the same so he’s got his work cut out for him. He’ll have to finally get over his listening issue while worming his way back into your heart! And don’t worry he definitely will!

[hughesmuse86]

Okay maybe subby jack because you’re jealous? like a girl is flirting with him at the bar and he’s just a natural flirt so he’s giving the wrong impression and she goes to kiss him and that’s where you jump in as he pushes her off of him. he’s clearly confused and not interested and you’re pissed so you go home and show him that he’s yours. He so apologetic and begging for forgiveness, definitely whining and praising you.

Yeahhhhh I like this sub!jack

Hi hun! Thank you so much for your ask!! 🤭🤭🤭 ahhh I’m so glad you like him too 😋💕

+18 -> smut | Jack needs to make things better after a bar night gone wrong 🩷

𝓢𝓾𝓫!𝓙𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓗𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓮𝓼 𝔁 𝓯𝓮𝓶𝓪𝓵𝓮 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

c/w: sub!jack, jealous reader, ownership, swearing, pet names (bunny, baby, sweetheart, princess, pretty <- out boy is in trouble), cum tasting, oral (female receiving, praise, begging

just a little t8 to set the mood 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

1.7 k

Jack Hughes has always been a flirt. Not in a way that means anything; he’s just too damn charming, naturally magnetic, with a smile that makes all the girls weak, including you. He doesn’t even realize half the time how easily he pulls people in. You know this. You’ve always known this. But tonight, he’s testing you.

You're sitting at a bar, celebrating a win with some of his teammates. The energy is electric, music pumping; drinks flowing. Jack has had a grin plastered on his face since you got there, enjoying the post-game buzz with his teammates, completely relaxed and carefree.

Jack walks up to the bar, ordering your drinks as you watch from across the way. And, just like clockwork, a woman walks up to him, and all smiles as well. A beautiful smile—the bleach blonde putting on a show as she arches her back and flutters her lashes.

Her fingers run through her hair, playing with it a little, her glossed lips catching the light. She laughs at something he says, leaning a little too close and touching his arm for just a little too long.

Jack, being Jack, doesn’t shut it down. He’s too nice. Too oblivious. He doesn’t realize that just because he’s not interested doesn’t mean she won’t be.

Luke catches your eye from across the bar, raising a brow in question. He knows you well enough to tell you’re seconds away from snapping if his brother doesn't pull his head out of his ass. You exhale sharply, setting what’s left of your drink down hard before stepping out of the booth and walking toward him.

Luke leans over to warn him you're coming, bringing Jack closer to her, and of course, she takes it every way but right—rising on her tippy toes, lips parting as Jack’s body retracts, dodging her advances a new clarity, blue eyes wide like a deer in the headlight.

“Woah, hey now—” He stops her, his voice laced with confusion. His eyes snap down to you, blinking like he doesn’t understand what could have possibly just happened.

And just as fast as she came, she scurried away, recognizing your face right away. You turn toward him, stepping a little closer, your features sharp as he starts to panic.

“What the fuck, Jack—”

“I'm just as confused as you, baby. I swear—”

You cut him a look, and he instantly shuts up. “I’m leaving.”

“I’m coming with you, baby. What do you mean?”

“You seem busy, Jack,” you clip, giving him a smile—the kind that's anything but nice, causing him to panic.

“She got the wrong idea. I promise—” He stammers as you turn on your heels, walking toward the exit, and before you can even take a step, his hand is on your lower back, guiding you through the thick crowd, his soul-focus on you.

The two of you step out into the street, taking the short walk back to the hotel, Jack’s feet pounding against the pavement to keep up with you.

You step into the elevator, and he quickly steps to your side. His body language’s rigid; his apology, right on the tip of his tongue. He sneaks anxious glances at you, fingers tapping against his thighs.

As soon as the hotel door locks, he's on you, his chest pressed against your back with his hand holding your hips, burying himself in your neck. “Baby, c’mon. I didn’t do anything, I promise. You know me. You know I wouldn't do that to you. It was nothing—”

A laugh bubbles up in your chest, surely making him shiver. “Mhmm… That looked like a lot of nothing, Jack,” you say with a sigh, your words dripping with condescension.

“I didn’t think—”

“That’s the problem, Jack,” you cut him off. “Luke saw it before you did… He was thinking. You…”

“Weren’t thinking,” he finishes your words submissively, his voice hoarse and uneasy.

“She thought she had a chance.”

“No fuckin’ way—”

“Are you serious?” You ask through a laugh as you turn around to face him, and you can see in his eyes that he clearly does not have a clue, nonetheless you couldn’t help, but be pissed.

Jack shakes his head so fast it’s almost pathetic, his hands reaching for you desperately. ���No, baby, I wasn’t flirting back, I swear. She’s Trevor’s sister. She was in town for the game. We were just jokin’ around, talking shit about him. That's it.”

"That's all? You allowed her to touch you, Jack. You allowed her to think she could kiss you."

His shoulders slump in defeat as he looks down at you, biting at his lip, trying to think of what he can say to make this better. "I didn't do it. I swear, I didn't do it. I would never…"

You tilt your head slightly, angling your lips, making him chase yours. Your hands press against his broad chest, holding him back, making his breath catch.

“You didn’t even realize, did you?” You whisper as you feel his uneven breaths dust your lips. “You’re mine, Jack.”

A small, shaky whimper slips from his lips. “Yours,” he breathes instantly. “I’m yours, bunny. Only yours. Please, I swear.” Jack takes his opportunity, stripping the both of you bare.

“Are you gonna prove it?”

His hands tighten on your waist, his voice soft and needy. “Let me, baby. Please...”

You look down, wrapping your fingers around the base of his thick dick, pulling to the tip, making his abs flex tight.

His lip tucks between his teeth as he watches your finger swirl through the precum, gathered at his pulsing tip.

“You’re saying you're sorry, Jack. Does it look like you feel bad?” You ask with a slight tip of your head, your finger slipping between your lips to suck it clean, making his eyes roll back as you release it with a pop.

“I'm sorry. I—”

“Then get on your knees.”

Jack drops so fast it makes your head spin, looking up at you, eyes wide and desperate as he waits for instruction, wanting to do whatever it takes to get back in your good graces, knowing full well you could easily make him sweat it out longer and that's the last thing he wants.

“Baby, please,” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper as his rough hands grip your thighs.

You scratch your nails through his hair, making his dark lashes flutter shut as he feeds off your touch.

“You embarrassed me, Jack,” you whisper. His lips part with a shaky inhale, his fingers twitching against your thighs. “You let some girl think she had a chance with you.”

He whimpers, his head jerking back and forth in a wild motion. "No, no, baby. I swear, I didn't… I didn't even know—" His voice breaks, and he buries his forehead in your hip, his grip on you tightening.

Your fingers tighten in his hair, tugging his hair just enough to make him look up at you again; his lips are rosy and swollen, his pupils blown wide.

“Make me forget—” Jack doesn’t need to be told twice. Jack’s hands tighten on your thigh as he grips one, lifting it over his shoulder, his lips brushing soft, teasing kisses against your skin as he settles in.

He applies another kiss on your inner thigh, and another one, clutches like he's relishing the moment as though he's thanking you for letting him do it

“I love you, princess,” he mumbles, hot against your sex. “I’m gonna be so good for you, bunny. So fucking good… Gonna make you forget about everything else. Just you and me, yeah?” He whispers against your lips pressing onto your clit, inserting two thick fingers deep, curling them inwards, causing your knees to buckle.

"Fuck, Jack," you groan, your hand in his hair tightening as his fingers slide in slow, calculated motions, his lips kissing and sucking, tongue flicking and swirling.

He groans against your cunt, the sound resonating directly through you, making your toes curl. His biceps curl, pulling you closer, drowning in your wet pussy. Your head falls back in pleasure as a moan tumbles from your lips. “There we go,” he sighs as he hears your pleasure, feeling like he’s making headway. “Sound so fucking good, baby.”

He works you with a little more desperation, finger and tongue fucking you just like you love, hoping to hear it again as you hold back your pleasured sounds with intention.

You gasp out a breath, unable to stop the words from coming. “Atta, baby. Fuckk. Please—Just please let me make you cum,” he pleads.

“Just like that, Jack. Fuck, you're gonna make me cum—” Your words cut off as pleasure courses through your veins, Jack only working harder as your thighs shake with overstimulation.

He slows down, dropping his hands, using his tongue to clean up the mess he made as your body softens.

With one powerful movement, he lifts you up into his muscular arms, his grasp tight and possessive. Your thighs hug his waist, arms wrapping his shoulders as he pushes his mouth on yours in a tender kiss.

You can taste yourself on him—the sweetness of my release mixed with the heat of his mouth. His tongue sweeps against you, rolling effortlessly as he walks with you toward the bed. “Taste that, pretty?” He asks, his voice low and husky. Jack’s lips curl into a smirk as he hears your uneven breathing this time. “So damn sweet.”

“Yeah?” You ask breathily, with a taunting edge, like you're still expecting a little more begging even after all that.

“You taste so fucking good, sweetheart. Could stay between your legs all fuckin’ night if you’d let me… Just wanna make you feel good. I wanna be good for you, baby…”

“You're mine, Jack,” you whisper.

“I’m all yours. I’m gonna prove it to you… Whatever you want, alright?”

“Okay…”

“I love you,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. “My girl—”

“I love you too, baby,” you mumble between gentle kisses. “Now make me forget again.”

𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

[hwaslayer]

wildfire (cs) | fourteen.

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 5.5k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing/mature language, mostly focused on namjoon again in his stressed with no rest era, oc tells her friends about everything, jiung x oc fighting, crying :(, oc has a pretty good talk with namjoon, things are just shifting/changing

—a/n: the next fic coming up after wildfire has been posted here! also if you haven't taken my poll, pls do so! hehe <33 i appreciate u

You lay back against the arm of the couch with your blanket sprawled on top, typing away the last bits of info into your presentation. You're a slide away from creating your acknowledgements slide and wrapping up the entire rotation update. You had gotten an email from both San and Namjoon stating that your rotation in San's lab was ending due to a change in your timeline and that you needed to present your rotation update to the both of them, along with the dean, in the following week. It scared you at first— and it still does now— but it's starting to make more sense as to why San did what he did. Namjoon sent you a side email asking if you could meet today because he wanted to discuss what was going on. He kept it vague. Short.

Maybe he was holding off until the meeting.

It's obvious who started all of this. It's not hard to tell.

But, you agreed to meet after TAing for Yunho— letting Namjoon know you'd be there as soon as class was over. He agreed to the time and sent you a reassuring message towards the end, telling you all would be well and that he'd help you figure things out no matter what.

It was reassuring, but it doesn't mean you weren't scared.

Anxious.

Nervous.

Doesn't mean any if this it hurt any less. Doesn't mean you weren't angry, upset, sad. You still needed to feel it out, especially being alone and going through this without anyone else to talk to about it.

You had Eunchae, Jurin and Felix. But, you wished you had Jiung to talk to. You wished you didn't feel hurt about him, too.

—FLASHBACK

"So, you two are seeing each other?" Jurin asks while she sits in front of you and holds onto your knee to give it a gentle rub. Eunchae sits next to you with her arm over your shoulder, also giving you a gentle caress, squeeze. Felix sits next to Jurin and he's got a look of concern, but sadness. You had finally opened up about everything between you and San; from how things started, the conferences, staying at his house, being with him—

To not.

Jiung keeps himself posted near your window because he doesn't really wanna hear more about it but he needs to— to understand the full story. Part of him also feels guilty for what he did hearing your cries and how awfully torn up you are over Professor Choi.

San.

He's gotta get used to you calling him San like that.

"Were." You shake your head and press the tissue against your nose to pat it dry. "It's done with now."

"But, why? Couldn't you guys just play it off?" 

"I'm sure he wanted to be safe, though." Felix adds softly. "I think I kinda see where he's coming from." He looks at you. "I don't think he meant to hurt you, but he's probably trying to protect you and keep everything safe in the meantime. Once this blows over—"

"I doubt we'd get back together."

"Don't say that. You never know, Y/N. I agree with Lix. He's probably just trying to do what's best for now even if it hurts him to. I'm sure he cares a lot about you. I mean heck, he almost fucked up Hae-jin in front of everyone." You sigh and look down at your hands, the feeling of sadness and emptiness all consuming. 

"He does." Eunchae adds to Jurin's reassurance. "I don't know why Professor Lee and Professor Jeong think it's their business, though. Haven't they done enough damage?"

"Awful. People literally can't mind their business, especially when it has nothing to do with them."

"I get the power dynamics but Professor Choi doesn't seem like the type. So, honestly, it's not like anyone was getting hurt in the process." Jiung silently fiddles with his hoodie string as Felix goes on.

"And people clearly don't know you if they assume you're the one throwing yourself on him." Jurin adds.

"Damn. Two people can't just be together?" Felix shakes his head. "Anyway, you got us, and this will pass. I'm sure Professor Kim will do everything to help and figure things out, too." You dig your face into your hands, trying to wipe away the remaining tears before you nod and smile at Lix in appreciation for his support, too. 

Still, you can't help but notice how Jiung has remained quiet this entire time— barely able to maintain eye contact with you.

"Should we go to dinner? Get some food in you?" Eunchae gives you a small smile and giggle. You nod and stand with them, quickly checking your appearance in the mirror while the three start making their way out of your door.

"Can we talk for a second?"

"About?"

"I just have to tell you something. Probably shouldn't wait until after dinner."

"Um, okay?" You look at him, hands crossed over your chest in a vulnerable manner, doe-eyes peeking up at him as he lets out a hefty sigh. "What's on your mind?"

"Y/N, I'm sorry. I just wanna say I'm sorry and I hope you understand where I'm coming from. But—" He lets out another sigh before shaking his head, almost as if he were shaking his feelings off. Trying to tell himself he needs to say it. "I-I went to Professor Kim and told him about you and Professor Choi. I told him I thought you were being taken advantage of and that I was worried."

"What?" You can barely get out. "W-why would you do that?"

"I was really just worried and I wasn't sure how else to get to you. I-I thought Professor Kim would be able to help—"

"Jiung." You call his name and step back, not wanting to be in close proximity to him. You knew he was worried about you, but you didn't think he'd go off and talk to Namjoon about it right away. "Why would you do that? Why couldn't we just keep talking about it— why did you have to go and blow this up even more?!"

"I'm sorry, can you blame me?!—"

"You didn't have to go behind my fucking back and tell Professor Kim! I already told you it wasn't like that and you still told him it was?! What the actual hell, Jiung?"

"I was just worried about you! I was being your fucking bestfriend, trying to make sure you weren't hurt or anything."

"And then you made things worse. Are you happy?" You scoff. "Those assumptions could have really fucked up Professor Choi."

"What about you, Y/N? Why do you keep disregarding yourself?! Is that even healthy—"

"Healthy?! I'm telling you the truth!" You scoff. "And you don't know shit about me and him, so quit acting like you do." You throw your hands up in defeat because he'll never get it. "Forget it, okay? You'll never understand and I don't need you to."

"Hey, what's going on?" Felix pops his head in, confused at the ruckus going on behind doors. Truthfully, he heard everything just as he was approaching the door to check up on you, and he's not sure how to feel. It's hard. He feels like he's in the middle because he sees Jiung, he sees you.

"You guys can go off to dinner together, but I'll probably just stay behind." 

"But, Y/N—" Jiung adds in defeat.

"Why don't you and the girls go? We'll catch up later." Felix tugs him by the sleeve and gives him a look. "Give her some space." He mutters lowly just as he gets in close distance.

—END

Your alarm blares on the coffee table, a harsh reminder that you haven't really slept much. It was time to wrap up and get ready for Yunho's class— something you weren't entirely ready to tackle today either.

But, you get up anyway. 

You sigh and put on your brave face.

You throw on a simple sweater, jeans and your Sambas— dabbing a bit of mascara, brow gel and lip gloss to fix yourself up a tiny bit for the day. You were tired of feeling sad and dressing the part; the least you could do was finally get some fresh air and look decent enough for the world while coming out of your slump. You grab your things and pack up your bag, heading out of the door with your keys in hand.

Kinda sucks you won't be returning to San's lab.

Kinda sucks you won't be returning to San.

You let out a sigh and quietly walk over to the classroom in peace, keeping your head down for a majority of the time. 

Avoiding eye contact, avoiding anything having to do with the outside world in meantime.

"Hey!" Yunho says in his usual fashion. You give him a small smile, although you're not really sure why he's joining class yet again today. He had been joining your class in particular recently, and you knew why.

He just wanted to get under your skin.

"Hi." You respond, getting your laptop together. Yunho continues to watch you from where you're standing, noting the sadness that envelopes your entire body. The way you're avoiding him. The way it's so blatantly obvious that you know that he knows.

That Iseul is the reason why you're sad.

You don't say anything otherwise; keeping your head down and away from Yunho even while the class walks in. You continue to carry on with the last journal club of the class before giving everyone time to work on their final proposals before it's due at the end of the evening. A few people linger at the end of class to speak with you and Yunho to get your guidance on the last remaining bits of their proposals before they thank you for all your help and head out for the day.

You still haven't said a word to Yunho, and he can't help but ask:

"Is something wrong?" Yunho asks nonchalantly after class, looking at your figure even though you are avoiding eye contact with him while packing up your things.

"No."

"You don't have to lie to me."

"I don't know why you're asking if something is wrong when you know what it is already. Don't you?" You look at him plainly from the side before gathering the rest of your things.

"Whatever's been happening between you and San is between you and San—"

"So, was it you who told Professor Kim? Or was it Professor Lee?" You cut him off. Yunho stares at you, and he doesn't respond. Of course he won't, of course he won't throw Iseul under the bus even though you know she was behind it.

"It was for the best."

"Quite frankly, I don't think you can speak on what's best for me or him. Especially him." You look at Yunho directly in the eye. "Are you both that determined to bring San down? Is that what this?" He furrows his brows.

"Reel it in, Y/N." He says, sternly. "Do you not understand how damaging this could be for both you and him? If anything, it was done to protect you both."

"What makes you think we weren't capable of doing so?" Yunho lets out a pathetic chuckle before he steps forward and leans towards your ear, a small smirk on his lips.

"I think snuggling up on campus and sneaking into his office is enough of a reason." He pulls back, licking his lips before dipping his hands into his pocket.

"And I think you need to learn how to mind your own business and let San handle his own." You scoff. "In any case, Yunho." You look him in the eye. "You and Iseul already ruined him from the beginning and you can't come to terms with it." You tilt your head to the side. "You both were never deserving of San, and that is sad. No wonder you two are miserable and are still keeping tabs on him." Yunho's mouth slightly drops, but he doesn't respond to your statement. "I'll help out with finals if needed. Otherwise, please consider my TA assignment with you done."

You almost run into Iseul as you stomp out of the classroom, leaving her to knit her brows at you in response.

"Nice talk." Iseul pops in, her husband biting his cheek.

"We should have never gotten involved with that, Iseul." He says lowly as he gathers his things together.

"Oh, so just let them—"

"That's exactly it, just let them be." He cuts her off and looks at her. "It didn't have to be us. We could've just let them be and let anyone else do the talking. Let them learn on their own." His jaw ticks.

"We did the right thing." She crosses her arms.

"Still doesn't change the fact that you're taking the opportunity to destroy San and running with it. It didn't have to be us." He repeats, slinging his bag onto his shoulder.

"Yunho." She says. "You're not actually taking Y/N seriously, are you? She's delusional if she thinks all of this is okay and would've slipped."

"Don't call her delusional, Iseul. You have no say in their relationship or what they're about. You had no right. They knew what they were getting into. You just lead them into the trap for your own benefit." Yunho scoffs. "You wanted to see this unfold, didn't you? You wanted this to unfold in a specific way." 

"What is going on, Yunho?"

"We're not meddling in this anymore. If you're not ready to stop, count me out of it. I'm not doing this, I'm not picking at their business anymore." He grabs his things and takes the lead out of the room. Iseul scoffs and shakes her head, slowly trailing behind him.

As for you, you feel cold. You feel isolated. You feel empty. You walk out and find a hidden table behind the building and set yourself down to get yourself together. You let out a couple of breaths to ease your feelings, promising yourself you wouldn't cry over this anymore.

But, it hurts to hold it in.

It hurts.

You feel the dullness, the heavy ache, in the center of your chest, and it hurts.

You have to move on.

"Fuck." You sigh, hand over your chest to give it a few gentle rubs before you're back on your feet and checking the time. You need to see Professor Kim just like your promised.

Of course, as you're on your way to Professor Kim's office, you find San passing by with Yeosang and Jongho. His eyes land on you and you immediately break first, feeling the tears ready to well up in your eyes. He sees the way your head drops and how you turn away— he can't help but slightly turn over his shoulder to keep his eyes on you.

To lock eyes with you once more.

To feel.

But, it doesn't happen. And it fucks San up more than he expects because he doesn't know even know what Jongho and Yeosang are talking about anymore after that brief interception.

"Yo, you good?" Jongho taps his chest with a small chuckle, bringing San back to reality.

"Yeah. Sorry." He tries to play it off quickly but Jongho quickly turns over his shoulder to see you walking in the opposite direction.

"All good." He returns to San and gives his shoulder a small squeeze. "I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about." San gives him a toothless smile. "Anyway, did you guys figure out where we're going before we make laps around campus?" Yeosang and Jongho share a quick look before they follow behind San and pick the conversation back up to prevent any of San's sadness from creeping up.

Meanwhile, you continue your way to Professor Kim's office, wiping away the stragglers that manage to escape your eyes and streak your cheeks. You weren't gonna let this get to you, so you quickly try to brush it off and get yourself together especially when you walk down the hallway and into Professor Kim's office. He's in his chair, typing away on his computer— glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose.

"Hey Y/N, come sit and make yourself comfortable." He smiles at you and you return the gesture, sitting down on the chair posted in front of his desk.

"Thanks for meeting with me today, Professor Kim."

"No, thank you." He chuckles and finally shifts his full attention towards you. "How are you today?"

"Uh, could be better but not complaining."

"Yeah? How was class with Professor Jeong?"

"Hm, okay." You hum before shifting in your seat nervously. 

"Just okay?" You nod. "Well, as long as there aren't any complaints or anything you wanna tell me." Namjoon knows you probably aren't having a great time in Yunho's class right now and he doesn't blame you.

"No." You force a smile. "Anyway, I see that I have to do my rotation presentation next week?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry, Y/N. You do understand why this is all happening, right?" You slowly nod. "I know you and San have been seeing each other, and I know he ended things the other day. I'm really sorry, but I just need to protect you both. Word is getting around fast and the dean isn't having it. I can't have him fire San, I can't have him kick you out of the grad program. Please just understand why things have to be this way. I just need it to settle."

"I do." You respond weakly before looking down at your hands. "I'm sorry for causing so much trouble, Professor Kim. I didn't mean— we didn't mean for this to blow up. I-I know we shouldn't have been so sloppy and reckless, and I'm sorry—"

"Hey, hey." He shakes his head with a sympathetic look. "No need to be sorry. I promise all is fine, and that's why I'm here to help and protect you both." You look at him with a sad nod, and you aren't sure why that's the tipping point for you but you suddenly start to break down in front of Professor Kim. He feels his heart breaks because he knows there wasn't any power play in this; he knows San as a person, and he's familiar with you as a student and the work you do. There was no way either of you used any power or position for your advantage. He knew this had been a genuine, real relationship— it's just truly unfortunate it had to unfold this way.

If word hadn't gotten around, maybe Namjoon wouldn't care at all. 

But, he has to now, and that's what makes everything hard about his role.

"I promise everything is going to be okay." He says softly.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—" Namjoon shakes his heas, watching the way you cry into your hands.

"Y/N, it's okay. You can let it out if you need to." He passes you the tissue box. "Can I ask you something? And be honest. I've already figured out your plan for school so you don't have to hold back." Namjoon says. "Do you care about him?" You nod as you continue to cry, the ache in your chest making it hard for you to breathe. 

You miss San.

"But, it doesn't matter because he ended it. It's over with."

"He only did so because of my guidance, and I'm sorry about that. I told him this too, but it's not something I wanted to do. Trust me. As his friend, it's the first time I've seen him genuinely and truly happy. It's all I wanted after the things he's gone through. But, I just can't risk it right now. San is beginning to reach new heights with his career and getting more real estate to do things he's been wanting to do with Jongho. You're also just getting into the groove of things. I don't want either of your hard work to get snatched away over something like this."

"No, I know Professor Kim. I do understand and I'm grateful. It just sucks. I don't know how else we would've gotten away with it, I guess." You sniff. "Maybe it had to happen."

"Look, I told him this, too. But, I can't police every detail and tell you who you can and can't date. If San is someone you care about, then so be it, but the only thing I ask of you is to keep it off campus. I cannot have you two interacting on campus or else he's out. Not by my choice, but the committee."

"I don't want anything to happen to him."

"I know, and he said the same thing about you. He cares just as much, so don't think that he doesn't." You dab your face with the napkin and nod.

"Jiung confessed and told me he came to you about it." Namjoon nods.

"I think he was just worried as your friend. Rightfully so. But, I think he also shouldn't have jumped to those conclusions right away."

"I told him that."

"If I hadn't known San so well, I probably would've believed Jiung." He sighs. "It's alright, he didn't know and he was worried. Are you two okay?"

"Not really, but I think we just need time. I'm trying to see his side of things, but I also didn't think he'd do that so it caught me off guard."

"I see. Well. Give yourself some time and grace, okay? I'm sorry it had to be this way for now." You give him a tiny, toothless smile. Eyes still shiny and watery from the crying you've just done. 

I'm sorry it had to be this way for now.

It repeats in your head over and over again because why does it feel like this is just how it's gonna be? Despite Namjoon reassuring you, despite San's explanation. Why does it just feel like a fleeting moment? A chapter in your book— a part that was never really supposed to last.

"Thank you." He gives you a smile.

"So, shifting to the program. I was thinking I could pull you into my lab and we can figure out things as time goes on? Explore other options if there's anything else you'd wanna explore." You nod. "You know there's other paths we can look into, or if you're totally fine with where you're at in my lab, then we can just stick with that plan."

"That sounds good. Thank you, Professor Kim."

"Unfortunately, like I mentioned, I can't have you interacting with Professor Choi. I'll have to make sure you don't take any of his classes or end up in any collaboration projects with him." You nod.

"Okay. I understand." 

"You'll have to halt all your work in his lab immediately. You can grab your things when you feel ready to, but I'll have you in my lab starting next week. I know it'll be a bit crazy with your rotation presentation, but I promise to make it a smooth transition." 

"Okay." You purse your lips. "I'm almost finished with my rotation presentation."

"That's great!"

"It'll just be us three?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry. It's not the usual format but I need the dean to see all the good work you do."

"Thank you. I appreciate your support."

"Do you have any questions so far? Any other concerns?" You think for a second before shaking your head.

"No."

"I'll send you some onboarding info and give you the contacts to some key people in my lab to help you get started. We can figure out your project and goals in a little more depth next week. Let's aim for a Monday morning meeting? 9am?"

"Good with me." 

"Thanks, Y/N. And please trust me when I say all is gonna be well."

"Thank you." 

"See you next week? Be sure to keep an eye out for my emails." You nod as you stand and tuck your bag closely to you.

"I will." You give him another smile before heading out of the door. Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose and plops back down onto his chair, picking up his direct line to ring the dean's office phone. It rings for a few minutes before the dean is answering on the other end.

"Namjoon."

"Hey. Can we meet today to talk about what's been going on? I can be over in the next 15 minutes."

"I'm free, but I have a hard cut off in 45 minutes."

"That's plenty of time. I'll be there soon."

"See you." Joon hangs up and gathers his things, loosening his tie to get himself together for this meeting. He doesn't necessarily wanna do this, nor does he think he's ready for whatever the dean could unleash on him.

On you, on San.

But, he has a job to do and he'll make damn sure he gets his point across. He'll make damn sure he controls this well, and he'll make sure nothing happens to the both of you.

When he gets into the building and heads straight for the dean's office, he's greeted by the front desk and his executive assistant. The dean's assistant knocks on his door and pops her head in to give him a heads up about Namjoon's visit. It isn't long before she's gesturing for him to come into his office, stepping out and slowly shutting the door behind her once Namjoon's settled in the seat in front of him.

"Namjoon."

"Dean Louie." Namjoon clears his throat. "Can we discuss what's been going on? I've got a chance to review this more in depth."

"Great. So, tell me. What's with the anonymous tip? Is there truth behind San and his student's relationship?"

"No." The dean looks at him with his head cocked to the side. "Not at all."

"Namjoon. This isn't the time to play games."

"Who said I was?" Joon asks. "This is purely a rumor and there is nothing going on between the two of them. To keep things safe, I'll make sure they don't cross paths and interact on campus, and I'll make sure to work closely with her and keep her under my wing." Namjoon says.

"A rumor? That blew up around campus? What about Iseul and Yunho? Iseul told me about the happy hour event with San. All of this seems too good to be true, and if you're covering for them—" Namjoon cuts him off.

"Since when did Iseul and Yunho have their best interest in San? All I know is that they've always been the driving issue, not San." Namjoon looks at the dean confused. "I don't mean to be disrespectful, but a rumor is a rumor and I've gotten to the bottom of it. I talked to the both of them and they denied it through and through. The only reason why San got caught up in the whole happy hour business was because a postdoc was crossing the line and being really disrespectful to her. Any one of us would've done it had we caught it right away like San did." Namjoon continues to furrow his brows. "Now, please. I'd appreciate if we can move on." The dean sits back and lets out a hefty sigh.

"Go on."

"As stated in my email, she will do her rotation presentation in front of myself, you and San. After that, she will be removed from his lab and will be placed in mine. We'll have weekly check-ins, and I'll work with her to move her classes around and realign her priorities so that she and San don't cross paths in this program again."

"And what about this real estate in the building? I'm not going to give it over if this is what San plans to do—"

"I'm sorry, but this shouldn't define San and his work." Namjoon pauses. "He's not, alright? I already confirmed it was a rumor and there is nothing going on. No reason for you to pull back on that real estate deal especially when Jongho had nothing to do with this either and San has already explained his side and agreed to comply regardless. She'll be out of his lab." The dean gives Namjoon a stern look.

"You better make damn sure this doesn't happen again, Namjoon. No rumors, no slip ups. And you make sure those three stop causing trouble on campus. Iseul, Yunho and San. I don't care who did what and who is blaming who, I need this to stop. Now. We can't have childish, petty issues running amuck on this campus."

"You have my word."

"If I hear San and Y/N in the same sentence again, I can't promise it will be the same outcome."

"With all due respect, I need you to understand that whatever they do, whatever happens off campus, doesn't concern me and shouldn't concern you either. I cannot police their behavior and make them act a certain way off grounds. They are both grown, mature adults that can make decisions on their own, and you know that's unfair and very unrealistic." The dean doesn't say much. He mutters a few things under his breath before he's returning his attention to Namjoon.

"Not a damn word about them ever again, Namjoon. I mean it." The dean warns him again before settling into his seat and returning his attention to his desktop computer. Namjoon does a quick, silent bow before walking out, sighing loudly to himself as he's finally gotten that over with.

Still doesn't make it any easier knowing he had his friend make a very difficult decision that he did not wanna do.

He hopes in time, this could blow over and San could be happy again. Despite this hurdle, he's betting on it. On you and him.

Maybe when you come back together, circumstances will be different enough that it won't make the relationship seem as bad as it does right now.

"Shit." Namjoon clicks his teeth when he finally gets out of the building and breathes in the fresh air. He is exhausted, but his day isn't about to be over, no. On his way back to his office, he finds Yunho speaking to a few colleagues in the courtyard. He must have gotten out of a meeting and was walking his visitors out.

And Namjoon doesn't give a fuck. That visit is ending now.

"Professor Kim! It's an honor to see you in the flesh!" Namjoon smiles at his guests before returning the favor.

"Hi there." Namjoon does a curt bow. "Hope you've enjoyed your visit."

"Completely. We had a great collaboration meeting with Professor Jeong here, and he gave us a tour around."

"That's great, yeah." Namjoon smiles before looking at Yunho. "Can we talk in my office?" Namjoon says near Yunho's ear. "Now?"

"Sure." Yunho bids his last farewell before excusing himself and following Namjoon straight to his office. No words being spoken or shared. Namjoon shuts the door and sighs, looking at Yunho with his hand on his hip. "What's going on, Joon?"

"I'm just trying to understand why you and Iseul are trying so hard to ruin that man's reputation. The dean told me Iseul went over there to give him more of her little intel on San."

"I don't know what she said or did—"

"You still knew about it, didn't you?" Namjoon looks at him. "You knew this whole time Iseul was trying to raise hell about this and you let her."

"How is this not wrong?"

"No one said it wasn't wrong, Yunho!" Namjoon raises his tone. "There were just better ways to go about it than throwing San's name out there the way you two did. Just throwing him out there to the wolves without even knowing the full story. That's the problem!"

"I'm sorry, it doesn't seem like it now, but we were looking out for him and everyone else potentially involved."

"Except me. If you knew better, you both would've let me handle this accordingly. This doesn't just affect him, Yunho. It affects you both. It affects me. It affects Y/N, Jongho, everyone. Because you both didn't know how to be discreet about your plans to bring San down."

"It was never like that!"

"Then, what was it like? Tell me. As his colleague, as someone who acted purely for their own benefit, what was it like? As San's ex-bestfriend, what was it like?" Yunho doesn't respond. "This isn't high school, Yunho. I'm sorry, but the both of you need to grow up."

"We just tried to do the right thing and I don't take any of it back. If you fail to see that, then that's on you—"

"Oh, so approaching the dean to give him more talk in his ear with your so-called evidence before coming to me is doing the right thing?" Namjoon looks at him. "What was the goal here? What did this plan look like to you and Iseul?” He shakes his head. “No, actually, I don't wanna hear it, she already came into my office to talk my ear off about this. That should've been enough to let me handle it." Namjoon furrows his brows at him. 

"We just thought we were helping everyone—"

"Helping? Yourself or Iseul?" Namjoon shakes his head. "You know what, this is done. The damage is done. So, thank you and Iseul for your generous help." Yunho sighs. "Now that you've done all the talking, it's my turn." Joon steps closer to him. "As long as I'm around, I'll continue to keep the peace in this department, and that means I don't want you and Iseul meddling in San's personal matters ever again." Namjoon's jaw ticks as he and Yunho stare at each other in the brief pause that falls between them. "I don't want you meddling in Y/N's personal matters, I don't want you two doing anything on this campus besides running your labs and minding your own goddamn business. Do you understand me?" Namjoon places his hands on his hips while he and Yunho maintain eye contact. Yunho swallows thickly before nodding, digging his hands in his pockets.

"Yes sir."

"The next time you and Iseul wanna act like I don't know how to do my job, I promise I'll be good with reminding you."

—read 14.5 here

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thechaotictheoryy @vixensss @santineez @nopension @domfikeluva @in-somnias-world @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @mountiiny @naoristerling @onmymymyway @thecutiepieme @wyrated

[soeyekonic]

— ✩♬ ₊˚. run for the hills ⭑ D.A

⟡ synopsis daniela has always kept you at arm’s length. close enough to make you stay, but never enough to let you in. stuck in an endless push-and-pull, you finally reach your breaking point, forcing her to make a choice: fight for you or lose you forever. but when the moment comes, daniela hesitates—and this time, you’re the one who walks away first.

warnings: chat idk… somewhat angst? but at the same time, not really

currently playing: run for the hills - tate mcrae

you should have walked away the first time.

that night, when her fingers brushed against yours in the dim glow of the city lights. when her lips parted like she had something to say but never said it. when she gave you that look—the one that made your chest tighten and your stomach twist into something uncertain.

you should have walked away before she could leave first.

but you didn’t.

and now, here you were again, standing in front of her like a fool, like someone who hadn’t learned their lesson.

the cycle was always the same.

daniela would come close, just close enough for you to feel the heat of her presence, the gravity of her attention. and just when you thought you could reach her, she would disappear. she would build walls out of silence, out of half-meant apologies and fleeting glances that never turned into anything more.

and yet, you always stayed.

tonight was no different. The two of you stood outside after hours of pretending you weren’t caught in each other’s orbit. It was late, the streets damp from a recent rain, the air thick with something unspoken.

“you can’t keep doing this,” you murmured, voice barely audible over the distant hum of traffic.

daniela blinked at you, as if she didn’t understand, as if this wasn’t the hundredth time she had left you on the edge of something you weren’t sure you could survive. “doing what?” her voice was soft, but it carried weight.

you let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. “pulling me in just to keep pushing me away.”

she didn’t answer right away. she just stared at you, lips slightly parted, something unreadable flickering in her brown eyes. you had seen this look before- the hesitation, the conflict. the part of her that wanted you and the part of her that refused to let herself have you.

“i never meant to—”

“don’t,” you cut her off, sharper than you intended. “don’t lie to me, daniela.”

her mouth snapped shut, and for a moment, all you could hear was the sound of your own breathing, the pounding of your heart against your ribs.

you wanted to walk away, to finally be the one who left first. but then her fingers twitched at her side, hesitating, before reaching for yours.

it was the softest touch. barely anything at all.

and you hated yourself for letting it break you.

daniela never let anyone too close. you had known that from the start.

she carried herself like someone who had learned to be careful, someone who knew that closeness was a risk. and yet, with you, she always let the line blur—just enough to keep you hoping.

she called you late at night when she couldn’t sleep. she let her gaze linger a second too long when she thought you wouldn’t notice. she let her fingers trace absent patterns on your wrist, your palm, your shoulder—like she was memorizing you without ever claiming you.

but she never let it become something real.

“you say you don’t want this,” you said one night, “but you act like you do.”

daniela exhaled slowly, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes. “i—” she stopped, shaking her head. “i don’t know how to want something and not be afraid of losing it.”

your chest tightened. “so instead, you make sure you lose it before it can hurt you?”

silence.

and then, softer: “maybe.”

she never gave you enough to stay, but she never let you go either.

it wasn’t one thing that finally broke you. it was everything.

the nights waiting for her to decide. the way she pulled away every time you got too close. the way she looked at you like you were the only person in the room, but then pretended it didn’t mean anything.

“i can’t do this anymore.”

the words fell from your lips before you could stop them.

daniela froze, her breath hitching. “what?”

your hands clenched into fists at your sides. “i can’t keep letting you take pieces of me if you’re never going to have all of me.”

something flickered in her expression—panic, fear. “i never meant to hurt you.”

“i know,” you whispered. “but that doesn’t mean you didn’t.”

she took a step toward you, but this time, you were the one who pulled away.

and it killed you to do it. because for all the ways daniela had hurt you, you still loved her.

you probably always would.

you waited for her to chase after you. you thought maybe this time, she would fight for you.

but she didn’t.

and that told you everything you needed to know. so you left.

for the first time, you left before she could.

and as you disappeared into the night, you wondered if daniela would finally understand what it felt like to be left behind.

maybe then, she would realize that she had always been the one who needed to stop running.

a/n: guys idk… was it okay?? i haven’t written in a while and i fee like i’m losing my sparkle 😭😭

[rose-writes-for-march]

March for More: Little Prince

MASTERPOST

If there was anything Phantom hated the most about being crowned king—

“Your Eternity, it is with great respect that I summon you here today for a formal audience.” Ra’s al Ghul says, bent over in a formal bow from where he stands just beyond the barrier of the summoning circle.

—it was this bastard.

“al Ghul.” He greets with a scowl, “What a surprise. I thought you might’ve gone and Ended already, given how long it's been since you bothered me last.”

The man jerks upright from his bow, a frown on his face though Phantom knows it isn't directed at him, and waves a hand behind him in a 'come here' gesture. Phantom follows the movement, spotting a boy in... armor(?) being forcibly escorted forward. Phantom is almost impressed by the fight the boy is giving, having at least ten men trying to so much as move him beside the old man.

"Ra's. We've talked about this, haven't we? I don't take sacrifices." Phantom growls, voice edging into ghost speak at the blatant disrespect the old man is showing. "I should kill you for bringing one before me—"

"Apologies, Your Eternity, for interrupting, but this boy is no sacrifice." Ra's cuts him off, body angled to glare at the boy while keeping the King in his sights. He moves his hand slightly, and the escorts reluctantly back off. As soon as one man's hold slackens, the boy growls and forces the rest off of him with an impressive efficiency. As the fight continues, Ra's addresses the king again, "This is my grandson, Damian al Ghul, I trust you remember him?"

And, unfortunately, Phantom does.

It wasn't that long ago for Phantom, thanks to time shenanigans. A summoning not unlike this one, when Phantom was freshly crowned and still finding his footing, had seen Phantom in this very room before this very boy—only many years younger than he currently is. Phantom is as livid now as he was then when presented with a kid and a marriage proposal.

"Is this some joke to you, Ra's al Ghul? Surely you understand your offense." Phantom can feel his features distorting, fingers blackening into claws, eyes thinning into slits, crown flaring from a soft borealis to a piercing ice. "My demands were simple, were they not? My patience is not as eternal as my reign, and should you offend me further, it will become as nonexistent as you'll find yourself."

"Your Eternity—"

"Your demands were met," Damian interrupts, standing tall under the full force of Phantom's misplaced ire as his eyes whip toward him. He stands beside his grandfather willingly, despite the earlier fuss, looking much more put together than the disgrace beside him.

He seems to have straightened out his suit, and at his feet sit the majority of his escorts, all properly knocked out. Phantom considers him for a moment, "Met, huh? And how is that? I remember my demands were to never be bothered with such a thing again, and yet here you both stand."

Ra's seems properly subdued under Phantom's ire as he always is by the end of their talks. It's gotten almost fun to watch the man back down when he knows he's lost. But Damian, for some Ancients-damned reason, seems to want to force the issue. "I admit you're right; the demands of that summoning were met. However, the requests of this summoning have changed."

Now curious and somewhat impressed by the boy, Phantom lets his features fall back into uncanny rather than monstrous. Plus, he is kind of required to hear the requests, no matter how much he'd rather skip it and get this over with. "Fine, let's get this over with, I suppose."

Damian bows and Ra's follows his lead a second later. Once they are both in position, Damian speaks, "Great King of Eternity, Savior of the Dead and Forgotten, I offer my body and soul to you in full trust and respect." He lifts his head, meeting Phantom's as he continues the formal spiel, "Allow to me the honor of your name and title, the right to you and your people, and your trust so that I may ask of you a favor in return."

Phantom can feel the proposal just beyond his skin, like the whisper of wind playing in his hair and spelling out shivers on his spine. It is an honest proposal, proper etiquette and intention behind every word. It makes Phantom even more curious.

"You must be desperate or stupid," he says, not yet accepting the whispers on his skin, not until he knows the favor, "You are no longer a child and are now doing this willingly, or as willing as you can. Tell me your wants, and I will consider."

Damian fully raises from the bow, Ra's doing the same before walking forward to take Phantoms attention. "Your Eternity, I wish to—"

Phantom holds up a hand, "I did not ask you. You'd be a fool to think I'd let you ask me of anything, vermin, regardless of the summoning rules." He turns back to Damian, offering a hand to tell him to continue where he was so rudely cut off.

Damian glares at Ra's as he sulks, but doesn't pay him any mind as he steps forward and meets Phantom's eyes again. "I fight under Lady Gotham's name to protect her and her people from those that would cause harm." Oh, Phantom knows of them. Lady Gotham's Knights, a famous bunch among the ghosts of Gotham, for good reason. "Recently, she has come under attack from a foe that neither my allies nor I can defeat. For giving myself to you, I would ask you to rid of this foe."

Phantom almost laughs. Such a small favor, such a silly thing to ask for a practical god of the underworld. He lets his mouth tilt into a grin, "So the answer is desperate, huh. I do not accept." With an easy motion, Phantom removes the proposal from his skin and with it the binding of the summoning.

Damian seems to lose the composure he's kept such good control of, a deep glare on his face and a growl splitting his lips. Before he can get too angry, Phantom speaks again, "I will help Lady Gotham without the need of your sacrifice. She is one of mine and has claimed you, Little Prince, which makes you mine as well. Now, what am I fighting?"

[victhespookygoat]

Full Transcript Below bc Forbes' Website Sucks:

TRUMP (after a reporter asks if he’s too “aligned” with Putin): If I didn’t align myself with both of them, you’d never have a deal. You want me to say really terrible things about Putin, and then say, ‘Hi Vladimir, how are we doing on the deal?’ That doesn’t work that way. I’m not aligned with Putin, I’m not aligned with anybody, I’m aligned with the United States of America and for the good of the world. I’m aligned with the world and I wanna get this thing over with. You see the hatred he’s got for Putin, it’s very tough for me to make a deal with that kind of hate. He’s got tremendous hatred, and I understand that, but I can tell you the other side isn’t exactly in love with him either. So, it’s not a question of alignment, I have—I’m aligned with the world. I want to get the thing sett—I’m aligned with Europe, I want to see if we can get this thing done. You want me to be tough? I can be tougher than any human being you’ve ever seen, I’d be so tough, but you’re never going to get a deal that way, so that’s the way it goes. Alright, one more question…

PROMOTED

VANCE: Hey, I want to respond to this. So, look, for four years the United States of America, we had a president who stood up at press conferences and talked tough about Vladimir Putin, and then Putin invaded Ukraine and destroyed a significant chunk of the country. The path to peace and the path to prosperity is maybe engaging in diplomacy. We tried the pathway of Joe Biden, of thumping our chest and pretending that the President of the United States’ words mattered more than the President of the United States’ actions. What makes America a good country is America engaging in diplomacy. That’s what President Trump is doing.

ZELENSKYY: Can I ask you?

VANCE: Sure.

ZELENSKYY: Yeah?

VANCE: Yeah.

ZELENSKYY: Okay, he occupied our parts, big parts of Ukraine, part of East and Crimea, so he occupied it in 2014. So, during a lot of years, I’m not speaking about just Biden, but those time was … President Obama, then President Trump, then President Biden, now President Trump and, god bless, now President Trump will stop him. But during 2014, nobody stopped him. He just occupied and took. He killed people, you know? What the contact line—

TRUMP: 2015.

ZELENSKYY: 2014.

VANCE: 2014 to 2015.

TRUMP: Oh, 2014.

ZELENSKYY: Yeah, yeah, yeah, so.

TRUMP: I was not here.

ZELENSKYY: Yeah, but…

VANCE: That’s exactly right.

ZELENSKYY: Yes, but during 2014 til 2022, the situation the same that people have been dying on the contact line. Nobody stopped him. You know that we had conversations with him, a lot of conversations, multilateral conversations. And we signed with him, me, like a new president in 2019, I signed with him the deal. I signed with him, Macron and Merkel, we signed ceasefire. Ceasefire, all of them told me that he will never go, we signed with him a gas contract … Yes, but after that he broke the ceasefire, he killed our people and he didn’t exchange prisoners. We signed the exchange of prisoners, but he didn’t do it. What kind of diplomacy, JD, you are speaking about? What do you mean?

VANCE: I’m talking about the kind of diplomacy that’s going to end the destruction of your country.

ZELENSKYY: Yes, but if you—

VANCE: Mr. President, Mr. President, with respect I think it’s disrespectful for you to come into the Oval Office and try to litigate this in front of the American media. Right now, you guys are going around and forcing conscripts to the front lines because you have manpower problems. You should be thanking the president for trying to bring an end to this conflict.

ZELENSKYY: Have you ever been to Ukraine that you see what problems we have?

VANCE: I have been to—

ZELENSKYY: Come once.

VANCE: I have actually watched and seen the stories and I know what happens is you bring people, you bring them on a propaganda tour, Mr. President. Do you disagree that you’ve had problems bringing people into your military?

ZELENSKYY: We have problems—

VANCE: And do you think that it’s respectful to come to the Oval Office of the United States of America and attack the administration that is trying to prevent the destruction of your country?

ZELENSKYY: A lot of questions. Let’s start from the beginning.

VANCE: Sure.

ZELENSKYY: First of all, during the war, everybody has problems. Even you, but you have nice ocean and don’t feel now, but you’ll feel it in the future. God bless, god bless—

TRUMP: You don’t know that. You don’t know—don’t tell us what we’re gonna feel. We’re trying to solve a problem. Don’t tell us what we’re gonna feel.

ZELENSKYY: I’m not telling you, I’m answering on the question—

TRUMP: Because you’re in no position to dictate that.

VANCE: That’s exactly what you’re doing.

TRUMP: You’re in no position to dictate what we’re gonna feel, we’re going to feel very good. We’re going to feel very good and very strong—

ZELENSKYY: You will feel influence—

TRUMP: You’re right now not in a very good position. You’ve allowed yourself to be in a very bad position and he happens to be right about it.

ZELESKYY: From the very beginning of the war—

TRUMP: You’re not in a good position. You don’t have the cards right now. With us, you start having cards.

ZELENSKYY: I’m not playing cards. [INAUDIBLE] Mr. President, [INAUDIBLE].

[CROSSTALK]

TRUMP: Right now you’re—you’re playing cards, you’re playing cards—you’re gambling with the lives of millions of people. You’re gambling with World War III. You’re gambling with World War III. And what you’re doing is very disrespectful to the country, this country. It’s backed you far more than a lot of people said they should have.

VANCE: Have you said ‘thank you’ once this entire time?

ZELENSKYY: A lot of times.

VANCE: No, in this—

ZELENSKYY: Even today. Even today—

VANCE: No, in this entire meeting. You went to Pennsylvania and campaigned for the opposition in October. Offer some words of appreciation for the United States of America and the president who’s trying to save your country.

ZELENSKYY: Please, you think that if you will speak very loudly about the war—

TRUMP: He’s not speaking loudly. He’s not speaking loudly. Your country’s in big trouble.

ZELENSKYY: Can I? Can I answer?—

TRUMP: Wait a minute. No, no. You’ve done a lot of talking. Your country is in big trouble.

ZELENSKYY: I know. I know.

TRUMP: You’re not winning, you're not winning this. You have a damn good chance of coming out okay because of us.

ZELENSKYY: Mr. President, we are staying in our country, staying strong. From the very beginning of the war we have been alone and we are thankful. I said thanks in this cabinet, [INAUDIBLE], I said thanks—

TRUMP: You haven’t been alone. You haven’t been alone. We gave you—through this stupid president—$350 billion—

ZELENSKYY: You voted for your president.

TRUMP: We gave you military equipment and your men are brave but they had to use our military—if you didn’t have our military equipment, if you didn’t have our military equipment, this war would have been over in two weeks.

ZELENSKYY: In three days, I heard it from Putin, in three days—

TRUMP: Maybe less.

ZELENSKYY: In two weeks, of course—

TRUMP: It’s going to be a very hard thing to do business like this, I tell you.

VANCE: Just say thank you.

ZELENSKYY: I said a lot of times, thank you to American people—

VANCE: Accept that there are disagreements and let’s go litigate those disagreements rather than trying to fight it out in the American media when you’re wrong. We know that you’re wrong.

TRUMP: But you see, I think it’s good for the American people to see what’s going on. I think it’s very important, that’s why I kept this going so long. You have to be thankful—

ZELENSKYY: I’m thankful—

TRUMP: You don’t have the cards. You’re buried there, your people are dying, you’re running low on soldiers—listen. You’re running low on soldiers, it would be a damn good thing. Then you tell us: ‘I don’t want a ceasefire, I don’t want a ceasefire, I want to go, and I want this—.’ Look, if you could get a ceasefire right now, I tell you you’d take it so the bullets stop flying and your men stop getting killed.

ZELENSKYY: Of course, of course we want to stop the war.

TRUMP: But you’re saying you don’t want a ceasefire—

ZELENSKYY: What I said to you—

TRUMP: I want a ceasefire. Because you get a ceasefire faster than an agreement.

ZELENSKYY: With guarantees. Ask our people about ceasefire, what they think. It doesn’t matter for you what—

TRUMP: That wasn’t with me. That wasn’t with me.

[CROSSTALK]

TRUMP: That was with a guy named Biden who is not a smart person—That was with Obama.

ZELENSKYY: That was your president. It was your president—

TRUMP: Excuse me, that was with Obama who gave you sheets, and I gave you javelins.

ZELENSKYY: Yes.

TRUMP: I gave you the javelins to take out all those tanks. Obama gave you sheets. In fact, the statement is: Obama gave sheets and Trump gave javelins. You gotta be more thankful. Because let me tell you, you don’t have the cards. With us, you have the cards. But without us, you don’t have any cards.

REPORTER: One more question…

TRUMP: It's going to be a tough deal to make. Because attitudes have to change.

REPORTER: What if Russia breaks ceasefire? What if Russia breaks [INAUDIBLE]?

TRUMP: What are you saying?

VANCE: She’s asking, ‘what if Russia breaks the ceasefire?’

TRUMP: Well what if they—what if anything! What if a bomb drops on your head right now? Okay? What if they broke it? I don’t know. They broke it with Biden because Biden, they didn’t respect him, they didn’t respect Obama. They respect me. Let me tell you, Putin went through a hell of a lot with me. He went through a phony witch hunt where they used him and Russia—Russia, Russia, Russia, you ever hear of that deal? That was a phony—that was a phony Hunter Biden, Joe Biden scam. Hillary Clinton, shifty Adam Schiff, it was a Democrat scam. And he had to go through that. And he did go through it and we didn’t end up in a war. He went through it, he was accused of all that stuff—he had nothing to do with it. It came out of Hunter Biden’s bathroom. It came out of Hunter Biden’s bedroom. It was disgusting. And then they said, ‘Oh, oh, the laptop from hell was made by Russia.’ The 51 agents, the whole thing was a scam, and he had to put up with that. He was being accused of all that stuff. All I can say is this: He might’ve broken deals with Obama, and Bush, and he might’ve broken them with Biden. He did, maybe, maybe he didn’t—I don’t know what happened. But he didn’t break them with me. He wants to make a deal. I don’t know if he can make a deal.

TRUMP: The problem is I’ve empowered you [looks at Zelenskyy] to be a tough guy. And I don’t think you’d be a tough guy without the United States. And your people are very brave.

ZELENSKYY: Thank you.

TRUMP: But you’re either going to make a deal, or we’re out. And if we’re out, you’ll fight it out. I don’t think it’s going to be pretty, but you’ll fight it out. But you don’t have the cards. But once we sign that deal, you’re in a much better position. But you’re not acting at all thankful, and that’s not a nice thing. I’ll be honest, that’s not a nice thing.

TRUMP: Alright, I think we’ve seen enough, what do you think? This is going to be great television, I will say that.

the transcript btw. It was hard to make it out on the video because of the blowhards yelling and me feeling incandescently blind and deaf with rage

oh, to have a leader with the moral fiber and strong backbone that Zelenskyy has