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[mycryptosuite]

Play This Safe 2 Odds Today 25/06/2023

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[judesmoonbeauty]

Miss Fairytale Keeper, Come Have Fun With Us: Nica Schwartz END

Translations will not include screenshots or CGs as mentioned here. Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do not post my translations elsewhere. Thank you, for you support! ☾.

Nica: I’m proud that you chose me in this case, Miss.

Nica grabbed my hand tightly and pulled me up.

Nica: Now then, let’s get out of here quickly.

He cracked his neck and drew a gun from his holster.

Kate: [Gasp] !

He shoots and kills those attacking us without hesitation.

Kate: Don’t kill them!

He paused at my words for a moment, but didn’t stop pulling the trigger.

Nica: Look, Robin,[1]

Kate: What…..?

The corpse lying on the floor was extremely emaciated and poorly dressed.

Nica: This is fate of the foolish who’ve lost everything by gambling.

Nica: What the hell did he bet? It’s definitely more than money.

Kate: That’s-

Nica: Besides,

He laughed and aimed his gun at a man who was attacking him,

Nica: I, hate people without money or power.[2]

BANG, a dry sound rang out and the man fell to his knees.

(There’s no hesitation in killing other people…..)

His cold eyes were so spine-chilling that I nearly stopped in my tracks, but the reason we definitely were able to escape, was because he held a gun.

[At the sea port.]

Nica: Ahh, what a terrible fire. It��s all over now.

The flames that appeared from the building in the distance grew stronger, and black smoke melted into the night sky.

Nica: Your mission from the Queen was a failure, Miss fairytale keeper.

In contrast my being stunned, Nica spoke lightly with the corners of his mouth raised.

Kate: I’m going home!

(I need to leave Nica and quickly find Jude….)

The man in front of me was the kind of person who can kill without hesitation.

It’s scary that he doesn’t feel anything for the lives he took away.

(Crown members have had to kill in order to conquer evil,)

But it was for the sake of the mission, not for personal feelings -

(Nica, he killed them because he didn’t like them.)

The moment I tried to let go of his hand to leave the place,

Kate: [Jolt] !

I was pulled hard and my heart pounded.

Nica: Did you think you could just go home?

(I can’t stop my heart from pounding probably because of everything that’s happened.)

Nica: Is your heart beating hard right now because of my ability?

Kate: What?

Nica: My ability is that anyone who holds my hand becomes charmed by me. [3]

Nica: You’ve been completely taken in by my ability.

(My heart’s been racing because of Nica?!)

I let go of his hand in a hurry, but this time he held my wrist.

Kate: Did you use it on the women at the casino too?

Nica: Well, even if we didn’t hold hands, my charm was enough for them to fall in love with me.

Nica starts walking and talking calmly.

Nica: Even if you all desperately try to crush it, this is just the tip of the iceberg, and it’ll happen over and over again.

Nica: It’s a daily occurrence in every country.

Kate: ….I don’t want that to become a daily occurrence, so I’m doing what I can.

When I stopped in my tracks, he smiled with a complicated look on his face.

Nica: ….It’s so dazzling that’s it’s unpleasant.

Suddenly, my wrist was released.

Nica: You’re so dazzling that I wanted a kiss from you, but I lost the bet.

Kate: How do you know that?

Nica: Because at the last moment, I could see the ball going into the number chosen by Mr. Company President with the evil looking eyes.

(Are you talking about Jude having a evil look…..)

It's hard to describe the way that expression captures those characteristics.

Nica: Unfortunately, we’ll have to postpone.

But his lips came close to the back of my hand.

Kate: Hasn’t it been postponed?!

When I reflexively pulled my hand away from his face, he had a wide smile.

Nica: Wouldn’t it be nice if you thanked me for saving you?

Kate: Thank you?

Nica: Kiss me, if you can’t do it, I’ll do it for you.

The voice that came from the lips close to my ear was extremely seductive.

Nica: ….So, where do you want it?

(It’s dangerous to just go along with this person….)

If I accept it, I feel like I'll fall into the depths of Nica and won't be able to return.

Kate: I- I’ll do it myself!

Sensing a dangerous situation, I grabbed his sleeve,

Nica: Huh,

I lowered my lips onto his slender, beautiful fingertips.

Kate: …..Thank you for your help!

Kate: Is this okay?!

Growing desperate and embarrassed, I let go of his sleeve as he froze in surprise.

Then Nica’s expression changed -

Nica: Ahaha! What’s that?

He started bursting into laughter, and this time I was the one who was surprised.

Nica: You’re so funny, I’ve never met someone like you before.

Kate: You’re making fun of me aren’t you.

Nica: Now, which do you think it is?

Kate: I’m going home first!

I leave him as he’s still laughing.

(The mission didn’t go well, and I was teased, it’s been a rough day.)

The sea breeze-scented air was a bit chilly, perfect for cooling down the evening heat.

Nica smiled happily as he watched her small back walk away.

Nica: I was only teasing you, but you and did something amusing.

She’s so pure and honest, I never thought she’d kiss me.

Nica: I’m becoming more and more interested.

Nica’s smiled deepened as he started walking, while she made a gesture to release the heat from her cheeks.

Nica: She truly is a cute robin.[1]

Ftn [1] - After receiving confirmation from a friend who is native in JP, it seems Nica is just calling her “robin” in this context in a casual form. Which makes sense because his overall tone is super casual. He does use Katakana to distinguish when he calls her “robin” in German, but it depends on the context, like his first CE story. Ftn [2] - This could also be rendered as “dislike,” as 嫌い ‘Kirai’, denotes hatred/dislike/disagreeable, but I chose hate because he’s killing people left and right without thought. Ftn [3] - 魅了 “Miryō”, has several meanings: charm; fascinate; to captivate; to mesmerize; to enthrall; to hold spellbound. I’m choosing to use charmed in this context and future translations until further information is learned about his curse.

[Master List] [Nica Epilogue] Dividers: @.adornedwithlight

Tags list: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @letter-from-afar @nateko Please let me know if you'd like to be added to my tags list!

Eeeeek, I was SUPER nervous translating this because I don't know a lot about Nica's personality, speech or other mannerisms. This will be interesting to see how my translations for him will develop over time, so for now, please expect them to be a bit bare and basic since I'm trying to be cautious. I really liked Nica's end personally, and I have a character dissection planned too, after the epilogue is completed.

[yyokkki]

Asking to Sketch Them

POMEFIORE 

Vil Schoenheit 

You’re gonna have to schedule an appointment with Vil’s manager first darling, but, because you’re his friend he will accept the request free of charge

Literally started this entire hc series because of this man, the way I draw him does not match up to his standards whatsoever

The best model you could ask for, because it’s Vil so of course, but Pomefiore can prepare any set you ask for in the snap of a finger and they’re giving you a free spa treatment after this???

And that’s exactly why he’s the worst model you could get

Pressure cranked up to 100%

His face is so symmetrical and oh god rook is breathing over your shoulder, staring as you work and he hasn’t blinked in a w h I l e

Once you’re done Vil gives a balanced amount of positive feedback and helpful criticism

But rook

Dude is n it p ic k y, there’s no malice but the guy is intensely observing everything Vil does daily so he definitely has stuff to say no matter how good you do

If you don’t mind the bone crushing pressure, this is probably the most helpful session you could get with genuinely good advice and tips at least in the realm of drawing people as beautiful as Vil

Its either -100/10 or 100/10 depending on how much pressure you put on yourself im sorry but if I were asked to draw a portrait of fucking Beyonce while she sat right in front of me I would cry

Rook Hunt

Boy is grinning ear to ear

Contrary to… Above, Rook is very happy to model for you

Rook is very skilled at staying still for prolonged periods of time even in the most precarious positions so go crazy (revenge)

Usually he’s the observer so to be the one being observed is kind of nice to him in a way

Once you’re done he improvs a unique poem about your masterpiece and how much he loves it 

Whether it’s stickman or hyperrealism on ms paint, he’s framing your work and hanging it up in his room

Next thing you know there’s a scented letter full of flowery poems detailing his gratefulness and his awe at your skill, as well as a huge oil painting of you ready to be hung up somewhere in Ramshackle dorm

This stuff probably comes naturally to him

9/10 Actually quite pleasant for, well, Rook

Epel Felmier

Vil hasn’t gotten around to teaching him how to pose for portraits yet cuz he’s really trying to hammer in the basics first but he will do his best!!

After you actually manage to convince him to do it that is

Posing for a portrait sounds stiff and boring and he’s already forced to put up with that everyday at his dorm

Bribes? Pomefiore basically has everything he needs and more

Food? Vil is gonna kill him if he eats anything outside his meal plans

A place to hide from Vil? Ramshackle is falling apart, he breaks in visits every other day with the other first years already

Your hand in marriage? I don’t think you should be offering something like that for a portrait

A competition? Ya bet yer ass I’m winnin

And now you’re drawing Epel while Epel is drawing you, with the other first years acting as judges

Honestly pretty fun, the atmosphere is light hearted

The other first years are arguing at the side and both of you aren’t super cut throat about it, cracking jokes and laughing at the dumbass combo whenever they do or say something distracting

You exchange the portraits at the end and Epel actually had a good time so it’s a win win situation and yall get to have a sleepover later

He challenges you to an apple carving competition next 

8/10 Turned into more of a first year hangout but it was a good time so who’s complaining

-----

Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Ignihyde | Diasomnia  

[tadpoles-and-daydreams]

A witchcraft basics doc; update, resource call, interest check, and a possible second doc

Bet most of you didn't even know I was working on this >:D

Yes this is a huge post. It's a lot of things.

So, one of my first posts ever on this blog was me mentioning that a friend of mine had NO clue what they were signing up for when asking for the basics of witchcraft. The google doc I wrote took on a life of its own, and the post did as well when people started asking for it. I still plan to tag said people when I post it, assuming they haven't deactivated. The thing is, this doc had become a proper project, and it took a long time for me to have the motivation to work on it again. Now, though, it seems to me like a damn good way to reconnect to my craft after a rut! (which, by the way, is why I've been offline.)

So, my first post back is for a couple of reasons. For one, if you have any resources you'd think would be useful for beginner witches, feel free to shoot me an ask, DM, or comment/reblog on this post! I'll have a list of things I'm putting in the doc (taking recommendations there as well) at the bottom of this post.

The other thing is that I might end up making a second doc, one that's a little less "101" in vibe. It would have a MAJOR MAJOR UPG warning on it, first off, and I'm not sure whether or not I would be marking any UPG either since this would essentially be a second Grimoire/Book of Shadows for me that would be public to others for the sake of sharing information! I can't say I'd call it "advanced witchcraft" by any means, I'm not very fancy lol, but I don't want the basics doc to get too overwhelming. I do, however, want to scream about random witchcraft topics that interest me. So this is also a bit of an interest check for that, as well as the basics doc.

FINAL NOTE: I fully plan on posting this basics doc before it's done. Some sections will be unwritten or unfinished, because if I wait until I find it "finished" I'll never post it. It's going to be added onto whenever I can, but I feel as though getting it out is the best course of action.

A list of stuff in the doc that I'd take resources on (AKA everything planned in it) with * by anything that will be left unwritten/unfinished on purpose until I know more. I will take resources and recommendations on EVERYTHING though. This is in no particular order:

grounding and centering

VOCAB (intention, intuition, UPG/SPG/VPG, appropriation. probably others I'm forgetting.

candle, plant, crystals and safety* (as well as any other tools one might need safety tips for. This is left completely unwritten as I use very few tools of this type.)

deity work* (the whole debate surrounding when to start, as well as information about it. Will include smth about house rules/boundaries. My work is very casual, I'd love to see different POV's of this! This is by nature left unfinished because deity work is so unique to the witch.)

grimoire/book of shadows

tools of the craft* (common tools and how to use them consumerism in witchcraft, etc.)

cleansing

appropriation* (I don't know near enough about this, I just check what's in my own practice. I would like this to include a list of commonly appropriated closed practices, a definition of appropriation and why it shouldn't be done, open pantheons, and common open practices.)

spellwork*

meditation

where someone could go from here* (including sigils, tarot, crystals bc my friend likes rocks lol, maybe astrology but oh god I have nothing about that it makes my brain hurt just looking at an astrology chart /pos. I will probably make a list of stuff that I could add in this section.)

casual/daily/quick/low energy practices and witchcraft

paganism and witchcraft; overlap, what they are individually, why one might be for you rather than the other, etc.*

there'd be a credit section for anyone who wants to be credited for links/resources at the end! If you send me resources plz specify if you want to be included in that or not.

Things I might include in the second doc if I make it:

the craft and mental health and my experiences with it

things commonly touched on in the community (your deities don't hate you, cycles of inactivity and burnout, other things I'm forgetting rn)

deity-specific things, more specific topics of the craft, etc. yet another reminder that this would all include UPG, possibly unmarked, because it would basically be primarily used to give me motivation to research more.

[slut4thebroken]

Exposure Therapy pt. 7

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane × reader

Summary | Your usual daily session is interrupted and chaos follows not long after.

Warnings | 18+, sexual content, smut, praise, degradation, face fucking, deep throating, exhibitionism??, grinding, fear gas, angst, kind of? He’s just not good at emotions, but you are very persistent lmao.

Words | 3.3k

Notes | I hope y'all remember what happens in Batman begins lmao. (Okay I’m worried I made the end too complicated because I had to reread some of the things he said multiple times and really think about it to understand what he was trying to say… lmk what y’all think of it pls)

Ao3 link | <3

Fic Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Part 6

You started a nice routine. So far he’s only been gone one day, but other than that you would always come to his office sometime around lunch, depending on if he was able to let himself have a break from his work or not. Usually after you ate was when he would give you a few things to do, but sometimes he got too impatient and fucked you instead. He learned very quickly though that your come drunk mind is not able to complete anything he gives you, so he does his best to wait and save that until after you’ve done a decent amount of work. He still hasn’t had you help with the experiments directly yet though. Which you thought was weird given how eager he seemed for your help. Okay maybe not eager…

Two weeks passed by quickly and you found yourself looking forward to each day, which you haven’t felt since you got here. You tried not to think about that too much though. 

He brought pasta today, in to-go containers, and you ate it eagerly. He was mostly used to your eating habits by now, understanding that you’re only getting one decent tasting meal a day, but he still often reprimanded you for eating too fast. 

“How much time is left of your lunch break?” You asked as you finished your food and he glanced at the clock on the wall. 

“Half an hour.” 

“Good.” You stood up, discarding the empty container on his desk, and walked over to him. When you dropped to your knees, he raised his brows and eyed you curiously. “Move back.” You said, glancing down to the chair. Without saying a word, he rolled the chair back and you slipped under the desk, using the arms of the chair to pull him back in. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asked, but it was amused, not a warning. You placed a hand over his already hardening cock, making his breath hitch. 

“If you really don’t want me to, I guess I can stop.” You said, knowing he wouldn’t dare do anything of the sort. When he didn’t respond, you worked on freeing his length, then took it in your hand, stroking it to full hardness. He let out a shaky breath and both hands came down to your hair, making you pause. 

“Keep eating, doctor.” You teased and his cock twitched. He huffed, but removed one hand, the other threading through your hair. You continued stroking him, then leaned down and enveloped the tip in your mouth. His grip on your hair tightened, but he gave no other indication that he was affected by your ministrations. Which only made you want to try harder. You swallowed him deeper in your mouth, hand stroking the base, then started moving up and down at a slow pace. He let you maintain control for a while, his hand tight on your hair but not pushing you down just yet. 

Taking a deep breath through your nose, you placed both hands on his thighs and forced yourself down as far as you could without gagging. He let out a choked moan and his hand suddenly forced you down the rest of the way, making your eyes widened as they filled with tears. He let out a low moan as he held you there, even as you dug your nails into his covered thighs. When he finally let you pull off, you coughed lightly, but quickly continued. 

“So eager. Do you like sucking me off?” You moaned around his length in agreement, never slowing the bobbing of your head. “I can tell. I bet you’re already soaked.” He chuckled and your face heated up. You let out a startled moan when he suddenly pushed his leg out between your thighs, pressing it against your core. You took the stimulation greedily, rutting against his leg as you hallowed out your mouth and pressed your tongue against the underside of his length. 

You weren’t sure if he was still eating, but his free hand was still above the desk and he stopped talking for a moment so you assumed he was. When you went all the way down and froze again, he pushed you down the rest of the way until his cock passed your throat barrier, making you choke. 

“That’s it. You just need a little help getting there, don’t you?” He said through a moan and your hips bucked faster at the passable excuse for praise. “We'll have to work on that though. I shouldn’t have to do all the work every time, should I?” You sputtered around his cock, tears falling down your cheeks, staining the fabric of his pants. When you tried to push yourself back up, his grip on your hair turned painful and he forced you down impossibly deeper. 

“Shh, just take it.” He uttered softly at your panicked choking. Finally stopping the pressure, you quickly pulled away, coughing and almost hyperventilating, making him roll back a little to see your face. “You can take a little more right? I’m so close.” Even though his tone sounded a little mocking, you were pretty sure he was genuinely asking. So you cleared your throat and nodded, letting out a raspy, “yeah.”

“Good girl.” He said, giving you a proud smile, and your hips stuttered forward at the praise, making his smile turn into a small smirk. He rolled back in and let you pick up where you left off, bobbing your head up and down his length, now very encouraged to help him reach his orgasm. He seemed to grow impatient though and he moved your head faster, fucking your mouth, almost breaching your throat barrier with each thrust. He fucked you like that a few times before someone knocked on the door. Your eyes widened and he forced you all the way down, holding you there. 

“Dr. Crane?” Someone called out from the other side. 

“No sounds.” He warned, tightening his grip to hold you flush to his pelvis. “Come in.” You were so incredibly glad that the back of his desk was covered when you heard the door open. 

“Miss Dawes is back. She’s asking about Falcone.” The man said. Your eyes burned and so did your lungs the longer you went without oxygen. When you let out a choked whimper and instinctively tried to pull off, he released your hair to instead place a hand on the back of your head, holding you against him with an iron grip. 

“I am on my lunch break.” 

“She’s insisting.” The man above you let out a heavy sigh. 

“Fine. Tell her I’ll be there in a few minutes.” The door closed and he released you, letting you pull off as you coughed and sputtered, a trail of saliva connecting the head of his cock to your lips. He waited impatiently for you to recover before using both hands to grab your head and force you back down, starting a brutal pace of pounding your mouth. Each thrust made your choke and gag as he forced his cock into your throat every time. When he cursed under his breath and his hips started bucking with each move of your head, you knew he was nearing his orgasm. 

He pulled you all the way down with a low moan and you felt hot come hitting the back of your throat, not even letting you swallow it because of how deep he was. You let out a muffled whimper as he continued holding you there, only letting you pull away once his cock stopped twitching. 

As you recovered, he used the napkins he brought for lunch to wipe his cock before tucking himself back in his pants and moving the chair back. 

“Come here.” He said softly, holding a hand out for you to take. You crawled out from under his desk and used his hand to get to your feet, leaning against the furniture behind you. When he stood and used a clean napkin to wipe your face, your cheeks heated up. “I’m sorry I cannot stay with you this time.” He said, focusing on the task. 

“It’s okay.” You croaked, clearing your throat when you heard how hoarse your voice was. 

“Before I forget,” He discarded the napkin then reached into the plastic bag from the restaurant, pulling out another to-go container— this one much smaller than the other one— and handing it to you, “I thought you might enjoy this.” You took it from him and could practically feel your mouth salivating at the sight of the brownie in the box. It was nothing fancy, just a plain brownie, but you haven’t had dessert in weeks and you started to miss chocolate. 

“Oh this looks amazing. Thank you.” You smiled, looking up at him, receiving a nod and a tight lipped smile in response.  

“I will escort you back.” He said, taking a step away from you to let you move away from the desk as he collected his things. “Grab your bag.” He said, when you started walking without it. 

“Right… sorry.” You said sheepishly, feeling a blush creep up on your cheeks. He made no other comment about your mistake as he led you to the door while you put the container in your bag. “Who’s Miss Dawes?” You asked as you walked down the now familiar hallways. 

“No one of your concern.” He said coldly, but he seemed to notice his tone. “Someone who’s been getting too close to what I’m doing here.” He explained, tone still void of emotion, but not as harsh. 

“I see.” You said, then added, “You can’t do anything about it?” He turned to you with an almost amused expression on his face because of what you were implying.  

“No. She works for the DA's office.” 

“Oh.” You arrived at your cell and he opened the door for you. 

“I will see you soon. I am not exactly sure when that will be though.” He said, easing your nerves, probably because of what he did the last time he returned you to your cell. 

“Okay.” You walked inside, then turned and gave him a small smile, receiving a curt nod in response before he closed the door. 

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but you finished the brownie, got through six chapters of a book and covered two pages of the sketch book in drawings before you started growing a little tired. Not knowing what time it was, you decided to just lay down and try to sleep, but a loud noise followed by an alarm had you bolting up in your bed. You got up to try and see anything through the small window on the door, but the hallway was empty. Deciding not to feed into your anxiety, you turned back around, but froze at the sound of your door being unlocked. Was whoever was responsible for the alarms coming for you now? 

You all but sighed in relief when Dr. Crane was on the other side of the door, but your brows furrowed in confusion when you saw the open straight jacket he was wearing, as well as the scarecrow mask in his hand. 

“Hurry, we don’t have much time.” He said, holding his free hand out for you to take. You grabbed it and he started briskly walking down the halls to his office, practically pulling you along behind him. 

“What’s going on? Why are you wearing that?” 

“I’ll explain later, please just trust me right now.” Another loud sound came from outside and he stiffened, then sped up significantly. When you walked through the doors he went straight to his desk and grabbed a gas mask, then tossed it to you as he put on his scarecrow mask. You stared at him in confusion as he walked toward you. 

“Put it on.” His tone was stern but it wasn’t out of anger it was out of fear. You obeyed and as soon as the mask was on, he was grabbing you and pulling you into the hallway toward the front door. 

“Where are we going?” You asked, voice muffled by the mask. He opened the door and you were met with the sight of pure chaos. People were attacking each other in the street, police horses were running wild, their riders nowhere to be found. He led you over to a horse and lifted himself onto it, then tried to help you on before you stopped him. You could barely get a word out before he was interrupting you. 

“Just get on.” You nervously eyed the wriggling horse before sighing and lifting yourself onto it with his help. You sat behind him, not sure what to do, but when the horse bucked up and started running, you let out a startled scream and quickly wrapped your arms around his torso. 

“Where are we going?” You had to yell over the screaming people you were passing and honestly for a moment you weren’t sure he even heard you. 

“Somewhere safer than this.” You passed inmates, police officers, and civilians alike, all of them yelling and either running or attacking. When you saw something flying in your direction, you thought you had truly lost it, but he turned down a street to avoid it before you could get a good look at it. 

As he continued down the panic filled streets, there were less and less people and you saw water up ahead. He stopped in front of a warehouse near the docks and jumped off before helping you down. 

“What the hell was that thing?” You asked as he led you inside. 

“Gotham’s self-appointed protector, a deluded soul in a costume.” He said, voice dripping with loathing and contempt. The darkness of the room caught your attention, shifting your focus away from the questions you initially wanted to ask about his response. 

“What is this place?” 

“When the Bat started sniffing around, I moved some of my belongings here.” He closed and locked the door, then walked over to a wall to turn on the dim lights. “It should be safe to take off the mask now. If it’s not, I prepared an antidote, just to be safe.” You tentatively removed the gas mask after he removed his own. 

“That was all your toxin?” You asked, shocked. 

“Yes.” 

“Why?” 

“It was not my plan.” He defended. You sighed and crossed your arms over your chest, gaze drifting down to the straight jacket.

“Why are you wearing that?” 

“I have the Bat to thank for this.” He said bitterly. You stared at him, trying to psych yourself up to ask what you really wanted to know. 

“Why did you come back for me? Why didn’t you just escape?” When he turned around and started walking to a desk in the center of the room, you thought he was just going to ignore you. 

“I’ve worked too hard on you. It’d be a pity to let that go to waste over something as simple as not stopping by your room.” He said simply, making your brows furrow. You followed after him and when he turned back to face you, he read your expression easily. “First you complain about being there and now you complain about me taking you somewhere else.” Despite his annoyance, there was a small smile on his lips. 

“I’m not complaining, I'm just confused.” 

“You said you’d help me. Now more than ever I need assistance. Have the few minutes of freedom changed your mind already?” He almost seemed… hurt. 

“That’s not-“ You let out a heavy sigh in frustration. “Why can’t you be honest with me?” 

“I am,”

“You’re not. You really expect me to believe that you took me just because you need help? When you could’ve gotten any lowlife to do it instead?” 

“Yes.” He said simply. You clenched your jaw and stared at him, then let out a dry chuckle. 

“Fine. What do you need help with?” You waited in agonizing silence as he studied you. 

“Why are you so bothered by this?” That made you scoff. 

“Are you serious?” You asked and when he didn’t respond, you continued. “I’ve given you everything— everything that wasn’t taken from me— and in return, all you do is treat me like one of your experiments.” You watched his jaw tick as it clenched, but you couldn’t stop, not now that you’ve started. “You want my help, you want me to eat with you, you give me a fucking sketch pad, but you come back for me just because it would be a pity to let your work go to waste?” You could feel tears welling in your eyes as you said it out loud. 

“Why can’t you give me something— anything, to prove that I’m not just an experiment to you.” You said quietly. He swallowed thickly and looked away from you. Just say it, you begged silently. Please just say it.

“What do you want me to say? You want me to tell you that I like being around you? That I couldn’t harm you again, no matter how hard I tried? That the thought of leaving you in that place, without me there to protect you, is enough to make me risk my life?” When he finished, his expression was something you’ve never seen on him before. 

“If it’s true.” You said quietly, holding your breath. 

“Even if it is, you expect too much of me. I am not able to give you what you truly want.” 

“I just want you.” You took a step toward him, but froze when he took one back. 

“No. You want someone who can provide you with more than just books or art supplies and simple kindness. You want someone who can make you feel like more than an experiment and I am not able to give that to you.” Even though you understood that you had nothing to do with his attachment issues, your chest still ached knowing that you’re not enough for him to want to try. 

“I know that your ways of expressing affection are unconventional, but it’s enough for me to just know. You don’t have to say it.” 

“I may not be a good person, but I am not selfish enough to keep you from finding what you truly desire under the basis of false affection. No matter how much I wish to keep you by my side.”  

“What I desire is to be by your side!” You said, exacerbated. “I don’t need emotional confessions or labels. I can feel it in the way you touch me, the way you speak to me, the things you do for me.” He was silent for a long time and you forced yourself to maintain eye contact, even as your eyes were filling with tears once again. 

“That is not how you really feel and as the one who’s emotions haven’t been manipulated, it would be wrong of me to continue taking advantage of you in your current state,”

“You made me like this!” You yelled, feeling a tear escape your waterline. When you continued, you tried to lower your voice to a normal level. “You made me feel like this… Please don’t pretend like all of this is just in my head.” When he remained silent, you whimpered out one last, “Please.” 

“Eventually you’ll realize that I’m right- that all of this was just a coping mechanism.” You let out an irritated sigh, getting over this back and forth very quickly. 

“Tell me.” You said, significantly harsher than before. 

“What?”

“Tell me to my face that I’m nothing more than an experiment. Tell me and I’ll drop it.” He clenched his jaw and let out a heavy breath through his nose, not able to maintain eye contact. The longer he remained silent, the harder it was to hold in the tears. “Please.” You whispered, making him look at you again. 

“Even if you aren’t, the confession would be inadmissible,” 

“It wouldn’t!” You yelled and he let out another heavy sigh. 

“I will only disappoint you, but to satiate your masochistic tendencies…” He paused with a sigh and you held your breath. “You are more than an experiment.” 

Part 8

[achillesangst]

Saw a post that made me actually pace with rage complaining about people donating THEIR OWN MONEY to Ao3 and saying that Ao3 were just hoarding money which. Interesting take. I cannot stress enough to people that running websites COSTS MONEY. Ao3 is not a static entity. Server space COSTS MONEY, and Ao3 has an archive that would put most websites in the ground. The internet traffic it receives ON THE DAILY would crash PLENTY of sites run by PAID PROFESSIONALS. GOD. It is ENTIRELY AD FREE. It almost never goes down, which is ASTOUNDING for a volunteer run site of its size and scope. I cannot stress enough what a gift Ao3 is, and how astounding it is that it survives solely on donations. Do any of you fucking people understand how rare it is to have a completely fan owned website on the modern internet???

Also, shaming people for paying money for services they enjoy is fucking hypocritical. People can very much donate to charities and gofundmes and ALSO pay for extra things for pleasure on the side. I am willing to bet that every single person on the planet has made a self indulgent purchase. You have no idea how people are choosing to spend the rest of their money, and frankly it’s none of your goddamn business.

ALSO op’s final comment was that people should just pay the fic writers. Which. DO NOT FUCKING DO THAT. you can *tip* fanfic writers for being a GENERAL GIFT AND BLESSING IN YOUR LIFE, but paying for fic IS NOT LEGAL. fic dodges breaking the law by being NON PROFIT. this is why fuckers selling bound fanfic are causing massive problems. Learn your history, Jesus CHRIST.

[renmackree]

Pleasepleasepleaseplease can you just write a LITTLE of the Stiles in Derek's DMs??? I just need something to keep me going while you slowly rip my heart out with other ideas?

I will pay in love?????

Hey Anon, I'm guessing you're talking about this post?

Just for you, ok? :)

Eggs

Butter

Cheese

Look up the percentage of Australia desert for **funsies**

Stiles typed out the list and hit send before sliding his phone back into his jacket pocket. The barista called his name and he scooped the large tray of coffees from the counter with a slight wave and a fiver in the tip jar. Shelly always made sure to add the extra whipped cream on his caramel macchiato frost and that was not to be forgotten.

The Boston air was crisp this morning as he stumbled out of the little coffee shop and towards Roscoe who was parked on the narrow street. While school was in Cambridge, the best coffee was across the river and everyone in his Computational biology department knew it.

Which was why Stiles was always the errand boy.

He put the departments coffees in the little box on the floor of the passenger seat strapping it in so that they would be safe for his long (not so long), arduous (re: three stop lights and a bridge), journey back to MIT.

A ding came from his phone, Stiles groaning loudly as he gripped the steering wheel and shook it in frustration.

"I swear, if it's Lydia changing her order for the seventh time, I'm throwing her Herbal tea into the harbor."

Ha. Boston Harbor. Tea. Stiles was hilarious.

He took another deep breath and opened his phone to see a small notification.

DH: Did you finish your paper on multidisciplinary approach to estimating wolf population size for long-term conservation?

"Huh. Specific..." Stiles had finished that paper a few weeks ago, but had barely made the deadline. He had been about to text Danny that the new AI prototype he had installed on Stiles' phone was whack when he saw the notification came from Instagram, not from M.A.T.T.

Another ping came through.

DH: And why would you need the percentage of Australian Deserts? That seems like a boring thing to spend your free time on.

Stiles' mouth hung open, eyes wide as he realized what was happening. Someone was replying to his DMs on Derek Hale's Instagram. He held his phone out like it was a bomb between thumb and forefinger; an almost whine escaped his mouth.

It had started when he was in High School almost 10 years ago now. One night he had been on an Adderall-Mountain Dew-Jelly Doughnut-Pizza high and decided that the best way to keep all his random thoughts in one place was to use the app that distracted him DAILY as a note system. He had even made a burner account so that he could keep all his random thoughts together.

Only problem was, his little distracted monkey brain had accidently clicked on Derek Hale's DMs rather than his fake account. It was five weeks in when Stiles noticed and at that point it was too late. It wasn't like Derek was going to answer him anyways, he had said on NUMEROUS occasions that social media was not his favorite thing and he only had the account to promote his new movies (which Stiles watched religiously. I Was a Teenaged Mothman was probably the worst and best movie franchise to ever hit the theaters and Derek Hale as Mothman was his every wet dream.)

So, he just continued to use it. Grocery lists, reminders, random thoughts at night, future movie ideas, school assignment ideas, complaints about his stupid roommate back in freshman year - he wrote it all.

And now someone was responding to TEN YEARS of DMs.

Stiles didn't know what he should do. Should he ask if this was actually Derek? No, wait that was stupid. Derek wouldn't actually be handling his social media. He had people. Peoples? Multiple people who could answer this for him.

"Some. of. us. have. hobbies. that. no. one. understands. And. I. need. it. to. win. a. bet." Stiles spoke each words as he typed it, sending the message out before typing another one. "And. yes. I. got. an. A. minus. because. Harris. hates. wolves."

Stiles tossed his phone onto the passenger seat and started driving to campus, mind still reeling that someone would be responding directly to random DMs that made no sense. If Stiles was asking questions about when the next IWATM movie, sure that would be a conversation the PR team might engage in. Not this.

Lydia owes you $40 for Venmo

Stiles decided to ignore it and his phone remained silent the rest of the day.

.o00o.

Call your Dad

Finish your stupid damn thesis or s u f f e r

Don't forget to get tickets.

It had been a week since the strange response to his DM came through, so Stiles assumed it was a fluke. He had tried a new note handling app that Danny had recommended, but a day later he had already started throwing things back into Derek's DMs. Hey, cut him some slack, it was a 10 year habit.

His phone pinged and Stiles' mouth almost fell open again. Another response.

DH: What are you getting tickets for?

This time, Stiles was quick to respond.

SS: I'm going to try and get tickets to the Bruins game tomorrow. Gotta love hockey, am I right?

There was silence on the other side of the screen, Stiles letting out a frustrated sigh. Whoever Derek Hale's Social Media manager was, they picked the weirdest things to respond to.

DH: So not Mothman in Love premier?

Ah. Now he knew what this was. They were trying to see if fans were biting at the newest spin off. Smart marketing.

SS: I already have my tickets for that. Opening night, middle row, got the collector Popcorn bucket on hold too. I know a guy.

The three dots at the bottom of the screen indicated that the person was typing, Stiles wondering if they were going to ask for a quote or a picture for the page from the opening night.

DH: You have appalling taste in movies.

Stiles' mouth dropped open again, his mind running at a million miles a minute and then crashing into a brick wall with the word appalling painted over it.

SS: Excuse me, the Mothman movies are absolute hot trash and I eat them up like greasy diner food. Do not talk about my comfort trash like that.

SS: but they are pretty bad, so I mean. You're not wrong.

And done, there was NO way the Social Media manager would ever EVER respond to a fan who said something like that. He could go back to his note taking life and luckily Derek Hale would never know.

DH: Then why do you watch them?

SS: Because you're a fantastic and sexy actor and if I could I'd lick chocolate off your abs.

His phone pinged.

DH: You're not bad yourself.

HUH.

Stiles was speechless, his eyes reading over the sentence over and over and over again. He opened his Instagram and quickly flipped through the pictures he had. Most were of him with the Lab boys, Lydia was in a lot of them, some of him on vacation in Peru, some with his Dad. Nothing that would ever, EVER scream you're not bad yourself.

SS: wow, maybe you do need those glasses checked? Unless scrawny Computational Biology Doctoral candidates really crank your wheel.

DH: Computational Biology PHD? Big change from the FBI you were originally thinking about.

Stiles sucked his teeth. That was the problem with this dynamic. Stiles had written everything and anything about himself in these DMs and it could be anyone reading it.

SS: Cyber security would have been my downfall if I did FBI clearly, since you know everything and I know nothing about you. I don't even know if you're Actually Derek Sampson Hale.

There was a blip of the three dots and then nothing. Right, Well that was fun while it lasted. Stiles had been about to turn on his Playstation and forget everything when the ping came through.

Instead of a text, there was a picture. Low v-neck, black rimmed glasses, slightly messy hair, beard that looked like it needed to be trimmed, holding a sign that read your turn @StilesisMe.

Derek. Fucking. Hale.

"Oh my god, oh my god..." Stiles scratched the back of his head furriously, throwing the phone on his bed and just circling it like a vulture circling its next meal. "Derek Hale sent you a picture, Derek Hale is reading your shit."

He stopped walking for a moment. "You just told Derek Hale you'd lick chocolate off his abs."

Stiles threw himself on the bed, slamming his head over the pillow at least a dozen times. Finally he grabbed his phone and sent a quick message.

SS: I don't send photos on Insta. Add me on snap if you want. @S.S.Stilinski69420

He waited.

God he waited.

And then the little Ghost of a notification from Snapchat appeared saying Haleofaguy added you as a friend. Stiles felt his fingers freeze as he hovered over the accept. Why, why was Derek Hale the movie star talking to him? Was he bored? Was he lonely?

Stiles remembered an interview once where Derek said he liked talking with people and learning new things, so maybe it was that? Maybe Stiles was just an interesting guy that Derek wanted to know.

No matter what it was, Stiles' insatiable curiosity got the better of him and he needed to know just how far this rabbit hole would go.

He took a minute to find a filter he liked and snapped a pretty unflattering picture of himself with the caption this is what your in for, buckle up Mothboy

Nothing happened, and then snapchat told him Derek Hale saved the picture to their chat and sent one back. It was the most unflattering angle Stiles had ever seen of the actor and he couldn't help but laugh.

It's Mothman

[obeymematches]

So I'm not sure if this one counts as a HC, but I was wondering what self-care tips you think the Obey Me! characters would have! Maybe it's a poor prompt so feel free to skip this one, haha. :'D Alternatively, maybe what they would do to cheer up an MC who had a bad day? As a general reminder you are incredibly awesome and your writing is amazing and I always love seeing when you've posted something new!! <3 If you want any character drawings lemme know!

hello bestie if you are reading this, don't stop🩷🩷🩷

it's been years (litetally 😅 you sent me this ask in 2021, sorry for not replying sooner 😅) but i been in the mood lately to write some more again :D ((i'm so rusty though))

i absolutely loved your idea + ngl i've been re-reading your message a lot, makes me feel so nostalgic 😅🩷 I hope life's been treating you well eversince <3 hit me up if you wanna catch up 😃

Okay so first I do the self-care stuff and later i'll do the other prompt 😁

Self-care routine / tips of The Boys!

Lucifer: • His way of self-care is listening to soft piano music in the evening, next to a fireplace. He is glad to invite you! • I feel like he also cares about what he eats, trying to keep it as healthy as can be. I feel like he loves to treat himself with some good quality fish? • Appearance-wise I think he doesn’t really care as much as he wishes he could, he keeps his hair and nails nice and clean but that’s like… very basic hygene stuff.

Mammon: • His self care routine includes ordering packages at 1.24AM. • Just the excitemenet of new stuff arriving soon puts him in a better mood! • He also cares about appearance as his side job is being a model. He is not afraid to use more expensive lotions, shampoo, etc. It has to be expensive but doesn't have to be quality if you get what I mean. • Him and Asmo brush their teeth most often (up to 2 times a day) • I’m 100% sure he would love the feeling of driving aimlessly at night with his favourite music on!

Leviathan: • I feel like he is the one who needs advice on this topic. • Yes he orders stuff sometimes but he is conscious about it, it was a well thought-out decision he made. Him deserving it wasn’t really the intention. • I think sometimes he takes a long bath, by long I mean about 2 hours, and that’s pretty much it for a month.

Satan: • He learned the most from Asmo; he is very well avare of how many lotions, masks, oils, creams there are and he tried a lot of them. • His favourite are hand creams, which he uses every day. • Sometimes he puts on a face mask with Asmo but to be fair it happens like 4 times a year so it doesn’t actually do much to him. • Otherwise I think he also enjoys a rocking chair on the porch, perhaps in the garden (not where all the bugs are though!) with an enjoyable book and some non-sparkling beverage.

Asmodeus: • His list is basically endless, so just a list of some he does every day / often: • Has to wash his hair 3 times a week, uses shampoo, balm, oil and is very strict about how to dry it. • Has a lotion specific to each part of his body, except his face because you can’t have enough variety of face-serums. • Takes long baths but careful! Too long is just as bad as too short!! • Likes to sunbathe in moderation on Dia’s beach • Having his daily beauty sleep no matter what • Goes shopping on the regular

Beelzebub: • Best bet is him making his comfort food and offering you some • Works out a lot of course, a heathy body is a must! • I feel like he is also into reading personal growth books? Like how to be a better person, how to be more in-touch with you emotions, how to heal from this and that • His place of self-care also includes your embarace. Pls just cuddle with him. That’s enough of selfcare itself.

Belphie: • Ah…about self-care… • Well I guess some extra sleep counts as such? • Loves to chill under the stars, very quiet and very peaceful place to be at. It really does calm his mind • Honsetly I think he is even worse than Leviathan • Please make him brush his teeth and comb his hair • Can change a lot if you influence him though!

Diavolo:

His tips are so extravagant you can't really try them alone...

Like ah! Just go on a cruise! Have a wellness weekend by yourself! Try some rare dishes!

Thank you bby i appreciate

He does take care of his skin and body and also his mental state through working out, quality lotions and self-help books, articles.

Barbatos:

Definitely bakes when feeling like he needs self-care right now!

He is more of a spa kind of guy, though obviosly he rarely gets the chance to enjoy such things.

Honestly he functions on the bare minimum, pls help him

Simeon:

Also well-read regarding self-conscious stuff so if you need advice on it please reach out to him! As a teacher he is going to be able to explain it easily.

Not much into appearance somehow?? Like yeeeah nail, hair, teeth always nice and neat but doesn't go the extra mile.

He'd be into coloring books to help him be in a relaxed kind of state! Though that is something only Luke knows about.

Solomon:

This man is a mess regarding self-care to be frank.

I mean he usually does as he wants, that's not the issue here. He just doesn't really treat himself as priority?

Okay he does care about the basics but sometimes he skips a day or two. He genuinely forgets to brush teeth for example.

More into the spiritual kind of self-care, mental state, personality, you get it.

[strangersails]

katsuki hates valentine’s day for several reasons, but he loves shouto so much that he doesn’t care if it goes against his own beliefs of said holiday, cause there’s just no way he’d waste a chance to spoil him a little (he already does on a daily basis).

but.

there’s also no fucking way he’d give him some embarrassing teddy bear with a heart stitched to its paws saying “i love you”, or some shitty chocolate box. he will bend to make his boyfriend happy, but he will not give him just the most basic gifts that everyone receives.

no, he won’t write no sappy as fuck love letter like he’s sure shitty hair did for the shitty nerd. he’ll do this his own way and get him something he will actually enjoy, besides, obviously, the fact that he’ll spoil him rotten like shouto loves to be — fucking princess.

that’s why he shows up in class, he lets shouto kiss his lips quickly and he eats one of the stupid, fancy chocolates he deposits on katsuki’s desk. he makes sure to let him know that it’s actually good, even though katsuki’s not really much of a sweet tooth.

and then he waits for shouto to sit at his own desk to give him his silly but healthy little gift — or at least an anticipation of it.

“close your eyes and open your mouth.”

“hm. what is it, katsuki? i don’t think i can trust you.”

“huh?! i’m not putting shitty things in your mouth, little fucker. just open that damn mouth, or i’ll keep this to myself.”

shouto pouts a little (the fuck’s he so damn pretty for?) but then closes his stupidly pretty eyes and parts his even prettier lips.

and katsuki puts the tip of a strawberry he washed meticulously at the dorm’s kitchen this morning on his bottom lip.

shouto gasps a little, probably cause it’s cold.

“bite” he prompts him.

shouto gives the strawberry a tentative lick first, and it makes katsuki’s face go a redder tonality than the stupid fruit.

but then he closes his mouth and bites. it takes him about two seconds to hum in approval and look at katsuki with sparks in his eyes.

“it’s so good, katsuki.”

“bet it is, huh? you got a whole basket of ‘em back at the dorm, baby.”

shouto’s eyes are even bigger now, the corner of his shiny lips curls happily.

“happy valentine’s day, asshole” katsuki says, extending the strawberry he still holds in his hand.

shouto doesn’t speak and doesn’t move, just parts his lips again expectantly.

fucking spoiled brat.

he feeds him anyway.

shouto bites, never taking his eyes away from katsuki’s.

“i knew that you loved me” he says once his mouth is free.

“no shit sherlock, i’m your fucking boyfriend. tch. fucking smartass.”

“you gave me a valentine’s gift.”

“so what?”

“it’s embarrassing.”

he’ll kill him.

“shut up, you literally gave me chocolate, dumbass.”

“yes, it’s because you don’t like chocolate, and you’ll just let me have it.”

“you little sh—”

“feed me.”

shouto opens his mouth and katsuki blinks.

he can’t believe this.

he lets him give the final bite to the red fruit anyways, and shouto’s lips touch the tips of his fingers.

oh, he hates him.

“i hate you.”

shouto lifts his hand and grabs the back of katsuki’s head, fingers slipping between the blond, wild spikes. he looks at him intently.

“katsuki.”

“hn.”

he lets his hand pull his face closer enough that he has to cross his eyes a little to look at him.

“thank you” he says softly on his lips, before pushing against them, gently but firmly.

the sourish, sweet taste of strawberry lingers on his lips, he doesn’t even have to drag his tongue on them to feel it.

shouto pulls back, just enough to break the kiss, but still close to his face, he could count his bi-color eyelashes.

“i love you.”

“tch. brat. i love you too.”

[captainsimagines]

pretty woman, this is me trying || six

Summary: Bucky Barnes does not like to be touched. He’s completely ready to live a distant life and give up when the time is right. Until Stark hires him his own personal pretty woman. Over time, Bucky Barnes begins to learn how to touch again. How to feel again. How to love himself again.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female SexWorker!Reader

Trope(s): Holiday Fanfic ; Slow-Burn ; Friends to Lovers

Based on the Song(s): sweet nothing by Taylor Swift and Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls

(6/14)

Mini-Series

Warnings: explicit language; angry Steve; overthinking idiots

Word Count: 4,170+

~

     “His ass looks insane in those pants.”

Bucky tucked his face into his shoulder as innocently as he could. This was not the time to talk about Stark’s ass, especially at a public charity event. But damn did you liven these events up with just your presence alone.

You had called him asking if he was free today and he had begrudgingly said no. After a sad moment, he asked if you would like to tag along to a Firehouse grand opening, after which you said only if lunch was promised.

So here you two were, sitting behind four other Avengers and one Tony Stark, who was giving one of the strangest speeches Bucky had ever heard.

“If he squats—a couple squats, up and down, let’s be honest—they’ll rip. You think Pepper bullied him before he left their bedroom?”

Bucky was about to respond, to answer a truthful ‘I actually think those are her jeans’, when a bright red head whispered over a poised shoulder.

“You’re both wrong. She encouraged it because she bet him fifty-thousand dollars he wouldn’t wear them in public.”

Natalia Romanov.

“And how would you know this, Natalia?” Bucky whispered back, eyebrow quirked.

“Pepper and I’s daily coffee and crumpets, of course.”

“Are crumpets those things that look like pancakes, but are really just bread?” you interjected, leaning forward in your seat. Natalia glanced at you, giving one look up and down, her face absent of judgment. Absent of anything, really. Bucky knew she had an ongoing sheet of notes in her mind ever since he walked in here with you. Maybe even from before that. He doubted it—Bucky’s been insanely careful whenever he goes to your apartment. Hiding you in the compound is unnecessary. But even if he trusts Natalia, he didn’t want her knowing where you lived. Surprise visits were unwelcome.

“They are,” Natalia answered, that lovely smirk growing. “As Bucky’s new friend, I believe an invitation to brunch with the gals is in order.”

You fidgeted in your seat, lips spreading thin as you struggled to respond quickly.

“Introduce yourself first, Natalia,” Bucky grumbled. Stark was still talking at the podium, and none of his other friends had turned to join the quiet conversation.

Natalia finally turned her body and held out a graceful hand, her manicure as perfect as yours. “Natasha Romanoff, the red-headed one.”

You shook her hand, your awkward smile now turned childish and happy. Telling her your name had never felt more natural for Bucky. He liked hearing you introduce yourself. It reminded him of the day you two met.

“I-I know. I have your action figure.”

Natalia chuckled warmly, glancing over her shoulder at Tony. “Nice meeting you. Bucky’s been absent around the compound lately. Is it safe to say you’re the reason?”

“What does it look like, Romanov?”

“It can look like anything, Barnes.”

“Do me a favor and keep the cameras away from us, please? Especially if you see Reagan,” Bucky asked, jutting his chin toward the cameramen near the podium. You squinted at Bucky as he said this, an unspoken question at the tip of your tongue.

“Favors? At this ungodly hour?”

“It’s eleven in the morning.”

“I don’t aid others until I’ve had lunch.”

You cleared your throat, rubbing your hands together. You weren’t this awkward while meeting Tony and Steve. What was different?

“I would appreciate it,” you told Natalia.

“Camera shy?” Natalia hummed.

No, Bucky thought. But your photo invited questions, involved search engines, and was only one click away.

“Something like that,” you replied, flushing with mock embarrassment. Good, it would throw Natalia off your scent.

“Well, I’ll do my best,” Natalia promised. “You two ditching the ribbon cutting ceremony?”

“Isn’t that the point of this thing?” you asked, looking over the seats to get a better look at Stark.

“Yeah, but Tony will prolong it to the point I’ll point a gun to my own head. I suggest you two run before that show starts.”

Bucky grinned at her, shaking his head at her audacity. “I’ll get her out of here.”

Then Bucky reached over and patted your thigh.

Natalia failed to hold in her gasp. She quickly turned back around, straightening her shoulders as casually as she could. But Bucky knew what he had done.

No matter the startled reaction from Natalia, he had touched you in public. Without thinking twice.

His chest burst with overwhelming joy just as Stark finished his speech and bowed to the applauding audience.

~

     Staring down at your boots probably wasn’t the most effective method of hiding your face from the cameras. Though, no one was paying much mind to you anyway. Especially when Tony Stark and Sam Wilson were currently posing for photo ops. Bucky was chatting with a donor about some other project, and Natasha had already snuck away.  The ribbon cutting was in a few minutes.

When you attended events like this with your dates, you always tried your best to interact with the general population. Small talk, politely declining photos, building connections in places that could benefit you in the future. It didn’t feel right doing the same here. For some reason, establishing relationships within Bucky’s social circle felt dirty. You weren’t presenting your true self to these people after all. Who knew what would happen in January.

And Bucky’s comment about having Natasha keep the cameras away from you and leaving as soon as possible didn’t help. Almost like he was ashamed of you. Ashamed if his friends ever found out.

A throat cleared from beside you, the person responsible doing their absolute best at seeming small. But you had become familiar with strong builds, muscles influenced by both practice and science. You narrowed your eyes toward Steve, lifting an eyebrow in greeting.

“You and Buck have been seeing each other a lot.”

“Two weeks, eighteen hours, forty-three minutes, and seven seconds to be exact.”

Steve’s head nearly twisted from his shoulders as he processed your words. You stifled the laugh bubbling in your chest, smiling directly at him instead. “I am totally fucking with you.”

He cleared his throat again, his voice becoming lower. “We don’t date a lot at the compound. Too many people in it for the wrong reasons.”

“Bucky and I are just friends.”

“No, Buck doesn’t make new friends nowadays.”

“Give the guy some credit. Damn.”

“That’s not—” Steve caught himself, faking a smile for the people passing by. “I meant, we don’t even see him as often as you do.”

You simply blinked at him, unconvinced. Bucky didn’t like to be touched, but he did crave companionship. Maybe it was effort that was lacking in the Avenger circle.

“Where are you going after this?”

Something in Steve’s tone was accusatory, fishing for evidence of wrongdoing. You tried to minimize the effect it had on you considering you’ve heard much worse directed toward you and the profession. It was blurring now, however—Was Steve trying to learn the specifics of his friend’s condition, or was he uncomfortable with your presence in general?

“Ice skating. But I did want to make a quick pit-stop at the bomb store before that.”

“Great, you’re funny.”

“I’m more than just my wit, Captain.”

“I see how Bucky would be attracted to that. I do. But I’ve been trying to get him out of that apartment for more than just three times a year. He’s been going out with you way too often.”

Honestly, it probably would have been a lot easier if Steve just punched you in the face.

“Why are you questioning him?”

“I’m questioning you.”

“Why are you questioning me, questioning him?”

Steve blinked, mouth parting with the absence of sound. He glanced around the crowded room, at the dozens of reporters and at the gigantic Christmas tree balancing on its measly stand. At the firefighters posing for pictures with Stark and Sam.

Finally, as if it took considerable effort to formulate a response, he answered, “Ice skating at Rockefeller?”

You rolled your eyes, expecting more than that. That earned you a set of wide eyes from the Captain.

“Yup. Oh, and since I’m sure you’re dying to know—My favorite color is green and my period doesn’t start until next month. I am ovulating, though.”

Steve continued to stutter as you lengthened the distance between you. If he wasn’t trying so hard to find out what damn color you bled, you’re sure you could get him to like you. Fall in love with you, even. Men were simple like that.

“Hey,” Bucky greeted, smiling wide as you approached him. Once you were close enough, he angled his body so that the cameras were stuck with odd angles of you. “You ready to go?”

“Always.”

You chanced a look over your shoulder out of curiosity, hoping to see something that would paint a positive image of Steve Rogers in your head. Yet, you witnessed Steve strip that tough demeanor and adopt what looked like distress. A once brooding, mountain of a man crumbling rock by rock, unable to stall the landslide of panic.

~

    “I’m going to look like an asshole.”

Your laugh sounded across the ice, startling surrounding skaters. Bucky had asked for an hour of skating instead of the usual thirty minutes per couple. After showing his ID, he was promised two. He hadn’t known, however, that out of the two of you only he knew how to ice skate. Who lived in New York for over ten years and hadn’t visited this skating rink at least once?

Listen to him. Talking as if these traditions made sense in his own brain. It was a new attraction in the 1930s, but he and Steve had never afforded it.

Steve probably really wanted to take him.

“You know how to skate. My ass does not. So you’ll be forced to save me from face planting!”

“Coercion.”

“Strategy.”

“Trickery.”

“Smart!”

Bucky huffed, skating around you in a perfect circle. You wobbled, stretching out your arms to gain balance. He didn’t want you to fall, but the sight of you trying hard not to was definitely entertaining.

“I’ve got it, look look look!”

“Oh, I’m looking.”

“To the center!” you declared, pushing yourself forward. But your skates were slightly tilted, so you scraped the ice instead.

“Alright, alright. You’re breaking my heart,” Bucky admitted, skating to your side. Your warmth was a welcoming distraction. Countless, nameless faces skated past him and although the voice at the back of his warned him of it all, all he focused on was you.

You and your mittens and your incredibly wobbly legs.

“Like this,” he instructed while holding out his metal hand. You gripped it tight, smiling like you had already won. But this wasn’t what was expected from a person who was sure to face-plant—You expected Bucky to catch you before you broke your nose. He would have to hold you, pull you up or pull you into his chest, and it scared Bucky to death.

He led you to the circle at an extremely slow place, barely pausing in time to avoid crashing into the other skaters. He struggled to protect your wobbly ass all while you laughed.

“I want to twirl like them!”

“I’m gonna need you to fuck off with that dream.”

“But it looks so fun!” you whined.

Bucky grumbled, scowling at the group of girls who were performing fucking Disney On Ice. “Can’t you just hold onto the ledge?”

“I spent twenty dollars to skate like a professional!”

“I spent forty dollars on both of us, don’t lie.”

You grumbled this time. Once you were at the center, you stopped and balanced yourself. “My feet hurt.”

“You complain a lot, you know?”

You giggled, “I complain about things I’m not good at.”

“How do you expect to get any better then?”

“Twirl me and I promise I’ll get better.”

Bucky shot you a stern look, watching as the air that left his mouth fogged across your face. You scrunched your nose, challenging his expression. Yet, the longer you two stared at each other, ignoring the skaters around you and the cold, Bucky folded.

He ran a hand down the top of his beanie to the back of his neck as he sighed, “Fine. But when you break your face, I don’t want to hear shit.”

You cheered, pushing away from him to prepare yourself. He forced himself not to smile. All these weeks, you have given him things. Confidence, soft touches, cookies, a damn dog. You wanted to twirl? This he could make perfect for you.

“Core and thigh strength, plus balance. That’s all it takes,” he directed, holding out both hands. You took them and nodded your understanding, preparing yourself for however way this was going to go.

“I’m going to skate in a circle, basically dragging you along with me. Once we gain some speed, I’ll twirl like they do when waltzing.”

“What if my feet get tangled with yours?”

“Then we both die. Alright, ready?”

He didn’t allow you time to prepare at all. He skated fast to start with, effectively avoiding all that awkward starter-wobbling. You yelled from behind him, expletives meeting his ears and no doubt meeting others. Bucky didn’t mind one bit. He used to worry about what people thought about him. Whether he was good or evil, that is. With you, he was carefree and at peace.

You could scream all you wanted.

“Ready?”  he called, speeding a little further. You squealed, your answer incoherent.

He waited until you occupied an area with little to no people, then turned in your grip. He raised his metal arm, disconnecting your flesh ones, and turned you in place.

Your feet didn’t collide with him or trip over themselves. You twirled like a beginner ballerina, clumsy and cut-off, but you twirled. It apparently counted because you were already cheering before he twirled you again.

And again and again.

He stopped as people neared, attempting to slow. But someone cut him off as he tried to turn back around, and Bucky could not catch himself in time.

With your hands still connected, Bucky plunged to the ice and pulled you down with him. He cupped your head as you rolled, using his metal hand to claw at the ice. Luckily, you stopped rolling before you hit anyone else’s feet. Bucky landed on top of you, air pushed from his lungs.

He looked down, meeting your merry gaze. You smiled widely, chest wracked with laughter. Bucky let himself sink into the feeling of being on top of you, of holding the back of your head, of his lips being mere centimeters from yours. He let himself feel it all.

And found that he wanted to remove himself because he was crushing you, not because his body was rejecting it. He breathed in the cold night air, nearly choking on it, ecstatic.

“I twirled!”

Bucky bit his lip, his cheeks turning even redder. “You did.”

“Do you want to come back the day after Christmas and show me how to jump?”

He chuckled, “It’s a date.”

He rolled onto his back, facing the night sky. If you two didn’t get up soon, you would be put on blast by the speakerphone. Still, Bucky relished the few seconds he was afforded, even chancing counting stars.

“Thank you, Bucky.”

Bucky turned to look at you and found an expression of pure joy. Like you were grateful for a mediocre twirl on an ice skating rink. Had no one taken the time to twirl you off the ice? Had you ever been twirled at all?

“You’re welcome.”

He reached a hand between your bodies, and held your hand. Flesh to metal, for longer than a few seconds.

He didn’t let go until your two hours were up.

~

     Bucky pet Axel’s head when he greeted you both at your apartment door. His food bowl was empty and his water needed to be refilled. You grabbed a glass and filled it, then bent down to do just that.

“Did you bring his treats?” you asked, waving at Axel like had full capability of waving back.

Bucky didn’t respond, so you looked to where he was standing in the middle of your living room. Perfectly still, eyebrows scrunched. Listening.

“Don’t tell me it’s the Ghost of Christmas,” you teased, walking straight to him.

“Get behind me,” Bucky ordered, physically pushing you back.

Bucky… Pushed you back.

Without preparing himself, without warning, without breathing deeply beforehand. Bucky Barnes pushed you back, to protect you, and did not think twice.

You stood behind him, an arm’s length away from his back, and stared at the window. Frost crept up the sides, taunting you with the unknown, before something cracked.

Not the window.

A line.

“Shit!” a man screamed from outside. A whoosh of wind caught up to his scream’s echo, then the culprit landed on the fire escape. With his gun steady, Bucky rushed to open the window.

“Clint?”

“Hey, man,” Clint groaned, rolling over onto his back. Gripping his torso, Clint struggled to stand as his lips spread into a sheepish smile. “How’s your day been?”

“Fucking chipper,” Bucky remarked, his expression hard. “Care to explain?”

“Uh, it was actually my idea,” a female voice echoed. Natasha shimmied down, still perfectly attached to her rope. Unhooking herself, she offered the same embarrassed smile as Clint. “I forgot to hook him.”

“She was trying to kill me,” Clint retaliated.

“Oh, hush. You’ve fallen a dozen times, you’ll live.”

Clint angled his head at her, offended.

“What. Are. You. Doing. Here?” Bucky questioned, his voice dangerously low. Never had you heard that voice from the man. It was the sweet side of him you were familiar with. Not even when he was bored, annoyed, or the slightest bit angry with you did his voice hit that low of an octave.

“Steve sort of—”

Before Clint could even finish his answer, Bucky pulled back from the window and stomped to the other side of the room. Probably to keep himself from wringing Clint’s neck.

“I told him,” Bucky interrupted, his lips drawing back in a snarl. He wasn’t angry—he was furious. Bucky Barnes had basically been told that his bestest friend in the entire world did not trust his own word. “That I knew her. That I’ve been seeing her for a while now. That she has not hurt me, has not tried to mess with my head, has not fished for Avenger information. She is my friend. And he sent you after me because he didn’t trust me when I said that?”

Natasha squared her shoulders. “You had not left the compound in months. This was… Changed attitude. Steve was just—”

“Even she has told him, a million times, that she is my friend.”

Natasha opened her mouth to say more, but it was obvious she had nothing. If Steve held worries, then Natasha believed him. In any way he described them, Steve and Natasha were friends before they were teammates. That’s what Bucky had mentioned a week ago when he was describing his own friendship dynamics between him and the group. Natasha believed Steve, and now she realized just how wrong he was.

“We’re sorry,” Natasha said.

“We’re wh—?” Clint began, but Natasha jabbed her elbow into his still sore stomach.

“We’re sorry,” Natasha repeated, shaking her head in guilt. “He really made this whole situation out to be more dangerous than it is.”

Bucky nodded, but it was evident he wasn’t going to forgive that easily.

“Do you want to come in?” you hesitantly asked, stepping out from behind Bucky’s broad back. “It’s cold outside.”

“I could smell those cinnamon cookies from up on the roof,” Clint commented, his smile widening into a true grin.

“No,” Bucky ordered, “Do not let them in here.”

“Your name isn’t on the lease, sir,” you teased, stepping around him. Holding out a hand, you waited for Clint to accept the greeting. “We can spare five minutes, can’t we?”

“Yeah, Barnes! Can’t you spare five minutes?” Clint shot back, reaching out to shake your hand.

“I don’t want to spare five cookies, let alone five minutes.”

You giggled, but understood where he was coming from. “Maybe some other time. Wait there, then. I’ll get you cookies to go.”

“How sweet,” Natasha said, genuine. She eyed Bucky, an unspoken conversation swaying in both their irises. Clint remained on the ledge, one leg inside and one out.

“You got roommates?”

“No,” you answered, packing ten cookies into a plastic container. “But I do have a baseball bat.”

“Nice,” Clint praised, nodding his head. “I can get you a gun.”

“Get me some arrows!” you cheered, suddenly excited. “I’ve always wanted to try archery!”

“Bet? Next time you’re at the compound, come to the training rooms. I can totally hook you up—”

“It’s nice and all that you’re getting along. Trust me, it will make me happy some other time. But I am still angry with you two right now, so we’ll catch up later,” Bucky interrupted, looking down at the floor. Natasha had turned her attention toward the city. “Tell Steve I won’t be coming home tonight.”

Natasha whipped her head around, eyes suddenly full of worry. “Are you sure that’s a good—”

“I feel safe here.”

Your heart leapt miles, bouncing in your throat and inside the confines of your skull. Happy chills spread throughout your body, the whole room. You were sure the other three could sense them.

Bucky Barnes felt safe in the one place you had made your own, called your own. The place you littered with stickers, and scrapbooks, and miniature busts of Greek goddesses. With paintings you bought on the street for ten dollars, with spices occupying every cabinet of your kitchen, with blankets of all shapes and colors. The place you had spent so many lonely nights, with cups of tea and books stacked in your bookcase—this place made Bucky Barnes feel safe.

Pride illuminated your features before you could reel it in, and it was obvious both Clint and Natasha registered it. That Bucky’s words made a delightful impact. And who were they to go against it?

“I’m guessing you want me to phrase it exactly like that when I return?” Natasha insinuated. Bucky nodded his head once, enough of an answer, and shooed them away from the window.

“Wait!” You rushed over with the container of cookies. “Here. It was nice meeting you both. No matter how awkward it was.”

“It was nice meeting you, too,” Natasha replied. That signature smirk lifted that lovely cheek over hers, and she whispered your full name under her breath. Something in her tone let you know that she was merely repeating what you had told her earlier. But that something was hiding a greater element, like she was telling you that you were just a google search away.

Your real name wasn’t on that website. But it was on your bills. On the debit card connected to the account.

Natasha Romanoff wasn’t a threatening woman when it came to other women. That wasn’t in her nature. Women hadn’t hurt her. She uttered this like a warning, that if she could find you online, it meant anyone could.

“Take me up on that offer,” Clint said, taking the container from you. “I’ll gladly teach you the ways of the nimble fingered.”

“Thank you,” you whispered. You waved goodbye as they scaled the wall to the roof.

Counting to three, you finally turned and quickly said, “Bucky, I was only being kind. They’re your friends and I know what they did was out of line, but it’s in my nature to at least offer them some water—”

Bucky Barnes lunged forward, cutting off your unnecessary apology, and wrapped his massive arms around you. Holding you tight, enveloping you in a warmth you hadn’t felt in ages. He squeezed tighter until he was certain he wouldn’t break you in his grasp, and remained there. Holding you for a few seconds longer before his body rejected the closeness. Slowly, he set you down. It wasn’t until then that you realized he had lifted you up.

“Can I stay the night?”

“You can stay the night,” you agreed.

“Can you brush my hair again?”

It was the hope in his blue eyes that had you immediately answering, “I can brush your hair again.”

Then, hesitantly, “Can we share a bed?”

No sound besides your stuttered breath was heard. “We… We can share a bed.”

“With a pillow wall in the middle.”

You sputtered a laugh, lifting a hand to your lips. “With a pillow wall in the middle.”

Bucky’s earlier rage had dwindled to nothing. You were sure he was storing it for later, perhaps when it was time to confront Steve. He closed and locked the window, rubbing his hands together to produce extra heat.

“Don’t offer my cookies to other people.”

You laughed loudly, falling onto the couch. Bucky watched, his eyes crinkled with joy.

You slept in the same bed that night, the pillow wall constructed perfectly. Two amateur engineers laughing the whole time.

But in the middle of the night, it was impossible to tell if it was nature or your ill math that caused the two of you to spurn those pillows, and spend the night close to each other.

~

[blue-slxt]

Two Can Play - Chapter 2

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

A/N: Part 2 of the Two Can Play series! The premise is inspired by Search & Rescue by @pandorxxx You should seriously check it out if you haven't read it yet. She's super talented. All characters are aged up.

Previous Part | Next Part

Pairing: Lo'ak x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Smut, Teasing, Making Out, Panic Attacks, I think that's it

Word Count: 3.0k

Summary: A foraging trip into the woods leads to one of your worst fears coming true. What happens when Lo'ak is the one to comfort you?

It’s been two days since your bet with Lo’ak. He comes and finds you throughout the day way more often than he used to. He’s always trying to fluster you, but you don’t break easily. Even when he does manage to make your heart race, you’d never tell him that. So far, you’ve managed to maintain the upper hand in all your encounters. Always having the perfect counter for all his moves.

You take extra care when getting yourself ready this morning, making sure to put on some of your most revealing clothes. The beads on your top just barely keep your nipples hidden and your loincloth is drastically shorter than your everyday wear. This outfit is sure to make him lose his mind.

You leave your tent to search for Ako and help her with daily chores. Men stare as you pass by since your outfit leaves so little to the imagination. Surely, most of them were having flashbacks to the times they once held your soft hips and sucked your stiff nipples.

To your surprise, you spot Ako actually talking with Lo’ak. What could they be talking about? Oh well, at least now you won’t have to look for Lo’ak. His eyes shoot to you and stay glued there while you walk over, clearly not listening to what Ako was trying to say to him anymore.

“Hey guys. Ako, I think I heard that they need more herbs in the healing tent so I figured we could grab some while we’re out getting the fruit today.”

Lo’ak is still eyeing you up and down, “You’re going to go foraging in that outfit?”

You look at him with innocent eyes and batting your lashes, “Is there something wrong with my outfit?” His gaze grows hungry, “No, I just think it would look better on the floor of my tent.”

Smooth talker.

A coy smile dances on your face. “You’re free to join us, if you’d like.”

He nods his head almost mindlessly. The longer he’s with you, the more likely he is to catch a nip slip or get a flash up your loincloth. Even if not, he was more than content to just stare at you all day.

If you were to ask Lo’ak, he would definitely say that you were the most physically attractive girl in the clan to him. The pull you had on him was unmatched. But he also loved that you were witty and strong and didn’t take shit from anybody. You checked every single box. Any man who said you weren’t a catch was either a liar or a fool in his mind.

He’s still lost in thought while the three of you are in the forest gathering food and herbs. He’s so much in his own head, that he doesn’t even notice the slick looks you sneak at him here and there.

It was true that you thought Lo’ak was hot. You thought that if you were to consider sleeping with him, he’d definitely be one of your top picks. But you had never truly paid attention to how strong his body actually was. Because of his slim build, it can be easy to miss, but when he reaches for a fruit up a little higher on a branch, the muscles in his back flex and his arms show off how toned he is. He could easily lift you or pin you down. Your own thoughts make your mouth start to salivate and the tip of your tail curls in just a little bit signaling your suppression.

Ako clears her throat behind you snapping you back to reality.

“Keep that up and you’re definitely going to lose.” She whispers low enough for Lo’ak to not hear.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You look for more fruit to grab and put in your basket.

“Mmhm, please, if you were drooling any more, we’d be standing in a river right now.”

You roll your eyes at her.

“Oooh look up there! There’s a whole gang of perfectly ripe fruit on that branch!” Ako points at a bush sitting on a large branch over Lo’ak’s head.

“Great, but how are we supposed to get up there?” you question.

“Like this” she whispers towards you, “Hey Lo’ak, you guys try to grab those fruit up there! They’re perfect! I saw a bundle over this way that I can’t leave so you guys take care of those!”

She shoots you a devilish smirk, “have fun”, and then she disappears into the bushes. Curse her. She just loves to see you squirm.

Okay, hold it together. No big deal. You’re just getting fruit.

Lo’ak looks up at the branch while you make your way over to him. “Think you can manage to get me up there and not drop me?” you tease.

He gives you a sarcastic smile, “Haha, just jump on princess”, he crouches down in front of you waiting for you to mount his shoulders.

You gently swing both your legs over his shoulders and once he balances himself with your added weight, he stands up straight. The change in height is off-putting at first. No one knows this, not even Ako, but you are actually terrified of heights. Just being on Lo’ak’s shoulders is enough of a distance to make your heart pick up its pace. To steady yourself, you instinctively clench your thighs around his face and hold on to his head.

“Woah there, go easy on me. I mean I always wanted your thighs wrapped around my head, but this isn’t exactly what I had in mind.” He laughs tapping your leg.

You take a few deep breaths to calm your body and focus. “Just lift me up, will ya?” You need to get this over with before you lose your resolve.

Lo’ak places his hands under your feet and pushes you up towards the branch. It takes all of his restraint to not look up under your loincloth and focus on getting you to the branch. You need to stretch a bit to finally reach it, but you grab ahold of it and pull your body up.

“Sweet! Now just drop the fruit and I’ll catch it in the basket.” He yells up at you.

It’s getting harder to ignore the pounding in your chest by the second. Your knees are buckling under you walking towards the fruit. You quickly pick them from the bush and drop them below for Lo’ak to collect. “Okay, I think that’s all of them!” you finally shout down to him.

“Okay, now just jump down and I’ll catch you!” he holds both of his arms out towards you.

Your heart sinks. “Are you insane? You want me to jump from all the way up here?”

“Well, how else did you think you’re going to get down?” he throws his hands on his hips.

You peek down over the edge of the branch and what you see makes you dizzy. No way. Absolutely not. There was no way. It was disorienting. “Maybe I could ju—“, before you could finish, your feet slip out from under you.

Everything is suddenly in slow motion, but it’s also so fast, you don’t even have the time to process the fall. ‘This is it. This is how I die.’ You close your eyes and prepare yourself for the impact of the harsh, unforgiving forest floor…but it never comes. You’ve stopped falling, but there’s no pain. Did you die? Were you already with the ancestors?

You hesitantly open your eyes to look around. Lo’ak’s arms caught you a few feet from the ground holding you close to his chest. Out of pure reflex, you found yourself with your face curled into his chest which was heaving almost as hard as your own.

He looks down at you with wide eyes full of fear. It was almost as if he was just as shocked that he caught you as you were.

“Eywa, are you okay?” he finally speaks.

You can’t even find words right now. Your mind and body are still reeling from having one of your worst fears come true. You open your mouth to try and speak, but a small sob comes out instead. Your vision blurs with tears and now Lo’ak looks like he’s about to panic. He sets you down gently on the ground and kneels down with you. “Hey hey hey, it’s alright. You’re alright.” He tries to calm you down and wipes away the tears that you didn’t even realize had fallen down your face. Your hands are trembling and your breaths are shallow and shaky.

“U-um, I-I think I…I need to go home.” The panic is trying to creep in and you need to be away from here before it catches up to you. You rise to your feet and race home to have your breakdown in private.

Lo’ak is left on the ground watching your retreating figure. He huffs a sigh wanting to chase after you, but he knows you probably need a minute to gather yourself. But it still made his heart ache. He had never seen a single sliver of vulnerability from you. No one outside of your best friend had ever seen you in such a state and it was unnerving for him.

…

You stayed in your home for the rest of the day. You knew you would have to explain to Ako tomorrow why you vanished with no explanation, but that’s a problem for future you. You’ll make it up to her another day. It’s time for dinner, but you can’t find an appetite. Your stomach is still in knots from earlier. You sit on your floor hugging your knees to your chest still letting silent tears fall down your face.

There’s a knock on the post outside of your tent, making you flinch at the sudden sound breaking your silence.

“Hey” Lo’ak cautiously walks in. You wipe your face with your palms trying to quickly compose yourself.

“Hey, Lo’ak” you try to sound as normal as you can, but your voice wavers from not using it for hours.

“Just wanted to come check on you. Haven’t seen you since earlier and it’s almost dinner time.” He looks you over feeling a twinge of pain at your clearly frightened posture and red eyes.

“Yea, I’m okay. I’m just not really all that hungry.”

He comes closer and sits next to you on the floor. Looking him in the eye right now is a difficult task, so your eyes desperately search and scan your home for anything else to focus on.

Lo’ak reaches out to hold your face and make you look at him, “Hey…how are you really?”

The quiver in your lip is unstoppable. His eyes are sincere and his touch is gentle against your cheek. Your currently fragile composure is falling to pieces right now and the tears return. Unable to stop yourself, your body falls into his and you sob into his chest. Lo’ak sits stunned for a moment unsure of what to do. He places his arms around you and rubs the back of your head while you let out your cries.

His touch is an unexpected comfort. You can’t remember the last time you felt so safe in someone else’s embrace like this. It makes your body curl into his more. At this point, you’re basically in the fetal position in his lap. Your breathing finally slows and so do the tears. Listening to the gentle thump, thump, thump of Lo’ak’s heart, you let the sound reverberate through your body and lead your own heart. You both sit in the quiet after your sobs have died down. You feel dazed like you’re not actually in your own body right now. Your whole body feels numb and like you’re not the one controlling it anymore.

You slowly look up at Lo’ak’s face and he looks back at you with concern written all over his expression.

You’re not sure why, but you lift your face up closer to his and peck his lips. His ears stand up straight in surprise and he just stares at you.

Why did you do that? Should you have done that? And why did it set your body on fire? Why did you want to do it again? You wanted more. Before you can lean in again, he’s already colliding his lips back into yours. His hands hold your body against his and your hands rest on his chest. He’s tentative in his kiss, not wanting to do too much too fast, but you part your lips to invite him in. His tongue plunges into your mouth and immediately asserts its dominance over yours. You never would’ve imagined Lo’ak to be as good of a kisser as he is, but his kiss is inebriating. It makes your head tingle in a way that you normally only feel after the clothes are already off.

You shift around so that you’re straddling his lap and you sit up on your knees holding his face in your hands to keep him close to you. His presence and his lips are keeping you grounded and you’re afraid if you let him go, you’ll slip away out of the real world again.

Lo’ak sits up to lay you down on your back while he suspends himself over you never releasing your lips. His hands cruise up and down your waist, pausing every now and then to softly grip your hips. You moan against his mouth making him want to touch you more to coax more sweet mewls from you.

His hips roll into yours wanting to feel some sort of friction to relieve his growing bulge. The feeling makes him suck in a sharp breath through clenched teeth. You need to stop this. You know where this kind of thing leads. You will yourself to pull your face away.

“Wait wait wait.” Your hands push on his chest to make him pull back and look at you. Both of you are panting trying to catch your breath that was lost in the heat of the moment. His heavily-lidded eyes bounce around your face making you blush. A timid smile comes to your face, “Um, we probably should slow down. I’m not trying to lose this bet just yet”, you half-joke.

He swallows hard regaining his self-control and nods, “Right. Yea, you’re right.”

He crawls off of you and sits with his legs crossed and his head hung trying to hide the blush that had started to tint his own cheeks.

You take one more deep breath to re-steady your breathing before sitting up to look at him. It was kind of cute seeing him get shy all of a sudden. A big player like Lo’ak blushing was certainly not something that you thought you would ever see, but you found it to be quite endearing, actually.

“Um, I never got to actually thank you for catching me earlier. So…thanks. You really saved my tail.”

“Anytime.” He smirks at you with a slight shrug. “So, uh, dinner?”

Now that you’ve been pulled out of your panic spiral, you realize that you are actually very hungry. “Yea, dinner sounds nice.”

Lo’ak stands and offers his hand out to you. Putting your pride aside, you take his hand and stand.

You walk behind him towards where everyone is already gathered to eat. You’re feeling very self-conscious until you see Ako sitting down eating already and your body relaxes a bit. You immediately rush to be with her. Lo’ak watches you run off, but he doesn’t take it personally. He knows you need to be with your person right now. You guys can pick back up tomorrow.

…

The next morning, you and Ako are working on weaving some baskets. You hadn’t explained to her last night what had happened, but she could tell when she saw you at dinner that you were dealing with something serious and so she didn’t want to press the issue with you just yet. Today, you finally seem to be mostly back to yourself.

“So, anything…interesting happen yesterday? You kinda disappeared and then just popped back up.” She carefully questions you.

“There was a bit of an incident in the woods when you left me” you say pointedly at her.

“Yea that was my fault. I shouldn’t have done that.” Her ears pin down to her head bashfully, “What does that have to do with you showing up to dinner with Lo’ak? What’s the story there?”

Your face and ears heat up recalling last night when Lo’ak came over. You weren’t sure if it was because you were embarrassed that Lo’ak saw you in such a state or because of…the other thing that happened. “No story. He came to check on me and he convinced me to come to dinner so we walked there together.” You glance at her from the corner of your eye, still focusing on your weaving.

Ako understands that your lack of detail says all that she really needs to know. “Well, that was nice of him.”

“Yea, I mean I guess, if you like that kind of thing.” You say maintaining your tone of indifference.

Ako takes notice of your tail tapping the ground behind you, “Certainly seems like you do.” She teases.

You look behind you to find your tapping tail and quietly curse your overly honest body betraying you. “Shut up”, your face gets even hotter.

Across the clearing, a group of warriors walks by after finishing a training session in the woods. Lo’ak is with them and you suddenly can’t tear your eyes away from him. He must feel your eyes on him because he lifts his gaze to meet yours. Instead of his usual cocky smile or a cheeky wink, he just offers you a genuine smile and a little wave.

You give him a small wave back and turn your attention back to your unfinished basket in your lap.

Ako smiles to herself watching you and your body language. She hasn’t seen you so excited about something, let alone a guy, in too long. Your energy was noticeably lighter and she was truly happy for you. This little wager you had going was proving to be growing into something a little more, even if neither of you fully realized it yet. But one of you will figure it out soon enough. 

[scarefox]

Do you guys know the self-care / mental health app "Finch"?

(not getting paid lol :/ just a rec)

It's a cute gamification of to-do lists but also tracks your mood, analyses your personality traits and gives you mental health tips. (free to use but also has more with premium). Especially when you sign in with bad mood it gives you "emergency help" right at the start, a list of mental exercises and breathing techniques, anxiety relieve, help hotlines or a note pad to vent or reflect in. Also has little physical exercises. That's neat.

You get a little bird you have to raise and give energy every day by doing your goals. You also educate it by answering its questions about things it discovers on it's walks. (that's your personality analysis part). With the points you earn you can buy clothes and furniture for the bird.

I just found it recently when I was looking for a new gamification to-do list. And I like it so far.

Before I used Habitica for years. I still have an account there. That's more like a text based RPG, where you go into quests and your solved tasks give attack or defense points to your character in the battle.

I do like it's interface better, it's easier to put up to-do lists and give them different values (I miss that with Finch) BUT since it's RPG based you mainly just develop your character and find new items during quests when you are in a party and battle in multiplayer. Which is a passive process, you just need to join and sign up for quests. Based on your finished daily tasks and goals you fight against monsters with the group. But it kinda sucks when you fail your tasks and then the whole group gets hit because of you. The group I was in, was super chill and didn't bother you much with chatting just told you when it was your turn to open a quest (basically a group for introverts lol). But it fell apart few months ago and got a new leader who is more talkative. Which can be fine if you are into that. The group/party chat also serves as a place to find motivation or talk about problems with others. Bet you can even find groups for specific projects and interests. But I just use apps a few minutes per day to check my boxes, so I don't talk much with them. Since I don't have big to-dos anyway atm I left the party for now.

So yea... I use Finch for now as a test how it's going and to remind myself to drink enough water and do some easy daily tasks 😅

[the-kr8tor]

I don't wanna be exiled:( 🪦's scary Please I'm innocent I still gotta have that three way marriage with 🦊 and 🎸 Daily Hobie HC! The moment you ask Hobie to do your makeup, he's rushing through the canal boat, grabbing what he has that suits you. Despite loving to tease you, he's very gentle with your face, especially around your eyes. If he's applying eyeshadow, Hobie will instinctively use his pinkie finger, not wanting to hurt you on accident. With how soft he's being, he can tell you're practically drifting off to sleep, in which he has to flick you away with a tap to your cheek. If he's using anything else for your makeup, such as a brush, he'll tap the tips of the bristles against your closed eyelids with a chuckle, feigning innocence if you try to call him out on it. No doubt when he's done, you look absolutely stunning. Whether it's just free territory or if you wanted him to try something else, there's a guarantee that you'll always look jaw-dropping. I mean, how else do you think he looks so good? He loves being your personal styler when you need it, and vice versa. He remembers once when you had somehow managed to convince him to wear a chicken onesie to one of his concerts. For two weeks you were not allowed to suggest any of his outfits for any upcoming concerts upon seeing your wide smile. Admittedly, he'd do it all over again if it meant seeing you laugh and smile like that. Hobie takes very subtle notice of what your style normally is, usually trying to think of gifts he could steal that you would like, and that you could possibly wear. However, whether it clashes or not, you're always seen wearing at least one spiked jewelry from Hobie. If he's able to without getting caught, he loves to swipe any accessories he can get for you, such as earrings, bracelets, rings, or any suitable piercing jewelry. And in return, you shower him in love, always giving him a lopsided grin and lovestruck gaze. With his love language being practically everything, there's not a singular moment where you doubt that he loves you. He'll offer to do things for you or help you if you seem to be struggling, not letting you achieve what you need without him teasing you at least a little bit, a shit-eating grin always plastered on his face. Sometimes, you'll even find him in the kitchen cooking. Obviously, the thought is always endearing, but you force yourself to supervise him, even if Hobie tries to convince you to lay down and rest...but of course, you've learned from last time. And besides, why is he even cooking anyways? He should be the one resting. Hobie will always be grateful for you putting up with his nonsense. During his worst moments, the canon events, the blood and the horror, he'll forever be appreciative that you stayed by his side to comfort him. To hold him close when he didn't deserve one bit of love. For how you never question when he just needs to hold you close after experiencing a night terror, and how you just simply massage his scalp to soothe him if he wakes up shaken. No doubt he feels terribly guilty at times, yet your persistent love is something he's always grateful for, no matter how guilty he feels, knowing he doesn't deserve it. The many nights he's just collapsed in your arms, fatigue and pain practically numbing his body as you cradled him in your arms, keeping him awake and safe from harm, even if it's just for a while. He's surprised that you even stayed by his side then, as he's physically in shambles, blood caking his suit, and possibly your clothes on accident. Hobie is always appreciative of your support and love, never allowing himself to not show you that in any way possible. I have had to rewrite this three times..stupid electrical storm >:( -🐦‍⬛

You will not be exiled dw dw

Can I be a maid of honour?

DAILY HOBIE HC!!! 🎉

Oh I'd give away my kidney just to have him do my makeup for me 🥴

I hc that he's actually really good at makeup! Especially around the eyes, i bet he can do a banging smokey eye

Now I wanna see hobie in a chicken suit while rocking out on stage 🤣🤣🤣 It's unfair that he definitely looks really good in it too 😍

Screaming crying throwing up I love him sm 😍🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

[delicatefade]

(WIP Wed/Whenever) kissy kissy Dalish elves

What if I actually posted on tumblr instead of just reblogging art? I've been writing a Dragon Age fanfic with no canon characters because I am a clown. It's a love story told in three four stories between my OC Eilan Lavellan and @bluewren's OC Lex Lavellan. They are twenty years old. Here is a fluffy little love snippet. (for any familiar with my main Eilan/Solas story, this is an AU for Eilan.)

Context: Lex and Eilan have been dating in secret for 8 months. Eilan insisted on keeping it secret because she didn't want to be the center of gossip. Lex didn't care if everyone knew but went along with Eilan's secretive nature. Their cover was just blown and everyone at Clan Lavellan now knows. CW: sex implied, nudity word count: 653

Eilan was surprised by how much she enjoyed having her secret exposed. That everyone knew she and Lex belonged to each other made her feel proud, even smug. Surely she had the envy of every other young woman — who better a catch than Lex? And who would have expected him to fall for Eilan, who was pretty enough but a bit odd, a loner who lived too far in her own head and practiced strange hobbies like elven calligraphy and writing. Being recognized as a couple had its practical benefits as well. They no longer had to invent ruses to explain their absences. They could disappear together, hand in hand, in plain view of their clan. Though Lex and Eilan had never named what had grown between them, in the eyes of the others they were clearly now a committed couple. Eilan was inclined to adopt their view.

To disappear together was as far as she dared express herself in public. When they were at camp Eilan preferred not to kiss or touch unnecessarily. Lex, she suspected, would have preferred to flaunt their relationship. He had sat close to her by the fire and rested his hand on her knee. The following day he swam out to where she bathed in the shallow sea just to hold her, the two of them weightless in the water. She reciprocated with a quick kiss, a small touch or a shy embrace, enough to make sure he never felt rejected, but invariably she would cut short his sweet affections, whispering to him that someone could see. He did not seem to mind. Or if he did, he never said. It helped that they often found time to be alone together. They each had daily duties, everyone in the clan did, but Eilan had found a way to pawn off some her chores onto a much younger cousin by baiting the girl with unfair bets. “I bet that when I drop this quill it will fall upwind,” Eilan said, knowing full well she could tip the quill with a sleight of hand. “Bet you can’t blow out all these candles in a single breath,” she said after having coated two wicks in essence of wyvern’s breath so that they would burn more stubbornly. The girl was only twelve, an apprentice healer of an agreeable and shy nature. By the fourth bet Eilan suspected that the girl had caught on, but was so thoroughly enjoying Eilan’s attention that she was willing to spend the day de-stemming spindleweed in Eilan’s stead. On those days Eilan would meet Lex in the forest where it was his duty to tend to wild gardens, thought admittedly when Eilan was there he tended to little but her. “Hold on. One second. I should check on the peppers,” Lex said as he disentangled himself from Eilan and stood up from the ground. They had just made love on a patch of summer squash. Fat bright leaves clung to Eilan’s bare back as she sat up to watch Lex move, his nude body gorgeous in the dappled sunlight. He pulled free a pepper from a nearby plant and screwed up his nose at it. It was a runty thing, curled in on itself like an angry cashew, bright red and gnarled. Lex raised a bewildered brow. “…the fuck?” Eilan repressed a laugh, her whole body shaking, tears in her eyes, lips twitching as she covered her mouth. “Oh yea?” Lex grinned, trying not to laugh. “You think it’s funny?” He tossed the sad pepper behind him and dove towards her, nipping at her neck as he guided her back into the cushy leaves. She shrieked with delight. “It’s all your fault,” he teased. “You’re the… what’s that word again? The title of your play? The Saboteur.” Eilan gasped. “You remembered the title of my play!” Lex wagged his brows cockily as if to say ‘duh.’

Tagging: @monocytogenes, @crackinglamb, @about2dance, @nirikeehan, @theluckywizard, @oxygenforthewicked @melisusthewee @rosella-writes and anyone else who might want to share their WIPs!

[to2llynottoby]

the hustle mindset isn't that tough, you've just gotta see the angles. for example, there are approximately 8,260 sports gambling apps, all of which promise anywhere from $50 to $200 as a sign up bonus. I sign up for five apps a day, that gives me an average daily income of about five hundred and fifty simoleons, and a whopping 200,765 smackers a year. but what happens when there are no more gambling apps or services, you ask? fortunately that will never become a problem, as my projections show that a new sports gambling service, complete with free in-app money token offer, materializes from the ether approximately once every four days. this rate has been steadily climbing since late 2019, and I project by 2025 we'll have a new sports betting apparatus every 20 seconds, that's long before even the current population is exhausted (assuming the aforementioned five per day rate). It's foolproof, and you're literally losing money not taking advantage of this opportunity. Hustle and grind, sigmas, and I'll see you next week for more tips