#do I have any proof for this? no but I wouldn't put it past them

[imaveryevilenby]

it's been months but I'm still upset abt the fact there were SEVERAL banks in the Chicago pride parade

remember guys companies and banks are run with profit in mind, the minute they think supporting gay people won't make them a profit, they'll go right back to hating our fucking guts

honestly would not be surprised if the same companies that walk in pride parades are the ones that lobby the government for less gay and trans rights

[cloudystevie]

take my heart and start a fire

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pairing || bucky barnes x f!reader

word count || 4566

summary || sam and nat play cupid

warnings || smut! dom! bucky x sub! reader, one bed trope, enemies to lovers, idiots to lovers, degradation, teasing, dry-humping, daddy kink, pussy slaps, dacryphilia, begging, asphyxiation, unprotected sex, aftercare

author's note || 18+ ONLY. hello, one-bed trope with bucky lives in my mind rent free and i decided to do something about it. enjoy! not proof-read yet. feel free to comment, reblog, and send me requests!

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“Alright, we got two rooms, one with just one bed and one with two beds. Should be enough to cover us tonight.” Sam claps his hands together as Bucky slowly walks up to the group. 

This was supposed to be a quick in-and-out mission. It was not easy by any means, but it was nothing the group hadn’t done before. You weren’t even supposed to be here. Usually, you did most of SHIELD’s groundwork, directing and organizing missions alongside Maria. However, due to issues with communication with one particular agent in the previous mission, Fury had instructed you to be on-site to ensure there would be no gaps in the instructions Maria and Steve were relaying. 

Except there was a gap. There was a gigantic gap in communication when you instructed Bucky to cover the cargo trailers in the westbound direction. Still, he decided you were wasting his time, so he left the trailers unattended, where the enemy was then able to take advantage of his isolation and overpower him. Had Natasha not interfered when she did, you did not even want to think about what could have happened. So you let him know just how pissed off you were the whole ride to the nearest motel since the world decided to unleash torrential rain at this very moment which made it impossible for you guys to navigate the jet out of whatever fucking city you were in. 

Bucky didn’t say a single word. Not when you were yelling at him while patching him up. Not when you wouldn't shut the fuck up because he never fucking listened. Not when you were running into the beat-down motel with its flickering sign on its last life while still screaming at him. 

He just stared at you. And he occasionally clenched his jaw. 

This wasn’t the first time Bucky disobeyed your direct order and it wasn’t the first time he got hurt because of that. You understood him, tried to initiate kindness, and extended a friendly hand toward him. But all he ever did was stare at you. He never spoke to you more than he absolutely needed to. He never paid any attention to you when you would hang out with Steve, Sam, or even Nat and Wanda. And it did sting you just a bit. A pang in your heart every time he walked past you like you didn’t exist because you had developed a crush on him since the first time you saw him a few months ago. When you would put a little extra effort into your appearance every morning because he made you feel little butterflies fluttering in the pit of your stomach every time you would even cross paths. 

When you did catch him staring at you, the weight of his eyes unmistakable, your heart rate would increase to match the flutters in your stomach, your cheeks heating under his gaze. He would look away immediately as if thrown out of his trance and catapulted into what he truly felt for you.

Disdain. Disgust. Maybe a little lust. 

God, you hated Bucky Barnes. You hated how you didn’t hate him, not even when he dismissed you somehow even more than he ignored everyone else. 

You were going to share a bed with Nat. Bucky and Sam could get the room with two beds because, of course, that was a reasonable conclusion. 

Apparently fucking not.

“I am not sharing a bed with him!” you screeched at Sam and Nat indignantly while the smug pair stood with faux innocent expressions. They needed you and Bucky to sort out whatever tension was between them by any means necessary.

They stayed silent, and you, ever the chatterbox today, decided to refuse. “Nat, I can’t sleep in the same room as him. He hates me! I can’t sleep when I’m stressed!” You whined, pleading with your best friend to take some pity on you. She knew better than anyone what you felt for Bucky, and she also knew love better than anyone when she saw it. 

Sam and Bucky walked a few steps ahead as you approached your door. 

“Sweetie, you and me are the only ones keeping up comms with Steve and Maria. It makes sense for us to be split up tonight so we can at least direct these morons at the same time and handle any issues faster than we’d be able to if we shared a room and they were in the other one.” Natasha knew she was right, and Sam fought back a smirk as their plan was falling into fruition, given the look on your face.

Bucky remained quiet as if he could not possibly care less if you slept on top of him in bed or a ditch.

You were this close to wishing the latter was your inevitable fate. 

“I hate it when you’re right.” As you approach the doors, you mutter and watch Sam take out the room keys.

Sam offers a small smile as Bucky walks in before you, patting you on the head and giving you a forehead kiss, “sweet dreams, pumpkin,” before shutting the door behind you as you roll your eyes.

“I’m not sleeping on the floor.” Bucky’s voice cut through the uncomfortable silence that had fallen after the lock clicked. His voice was raspy because he hadn’t used it in a while, and you barely held back the shiver that ran down your spine at his tone. 

You take one look at the fraying carpet and decide that it has been years since this floor had some TLC. You look up at him to find his heavy-set eyes already on you, “I’m not sleeping on the floor either.” 

His jaw clenches, and another unreadable emotion swirls in his eyes as he replies, “Guess that settles it, then.” 

You roll your eyes and huff out that you’re jumping in the shower, not waiting for his reply- not that there was one. The water takes a while to warm up, and in the meantime, you peel your clothes off of yourself, dirtied by rainwater and the dirt, debris, and sweat that had accumulated earlier. You step into the shower and try to enjoy the feel of warm water cascading over your sore body. 

You rarely made it onto the field as you genuinely preferred doing the background work, planning missions, writing up plans and procedures, assigning responsibilities to each Avenger and guiding them through the field while you stayed at the headquarters. Your muscles were undoubtedly aware of that fact, as you had to do a lot more hand-to-hand combat due to Bucky’s stupid mistake.

You couldn’t help but let your mind wander towards him, knowing you were completely bare just 10 feet away from him, how he would grunt in exertion and deliver calculated blows to his opponent. He was precisely your type: tall, brooding, broad shoulders, thick thighs. He didn’t speak that much, but his words were carefully weighed every time he did. He was so grumpy all the time, such a masculine man. You just loved it. 

You tried not to think about how he didn’t feel the same. And also about the fact that you would be sharing a bed with him. 

The water grew cold, and you realized you had been in the shower for upwards of twenty minutes. You shut off the water and wrap yourself in one of the towels provided by the hotel. You pulled out your pyjama set since there was a possibility that you would have to stay somewhere tonight due to the heavy rain. You didn’t think you were sleeping with Bucky, or you would have grabbed something a bit more conservative. You slip into the white tank top and shorts with a dainty floral design. You mentally prepared yourself to make a bee-line for the bed so you wouldn’t have to face Bucky while wearing next to nothing. 

A few feet away, Bucky was scrolling through the shitty channels playing on the shitty TV, ignoring the way his heart raced when the bathroom door unlocked and you emerged from the small room. He tried so hard not to stare at your outfit, unable to ignore the way all the blood in his body rushed to his dick when your tiny shorts rolled up even higher as you innocently bent over to check over your work laptop for any updates. 

“You really gonna wear that?” He scoffs and immediately realizes it didn’t exactly come out as playful as he would have liked. He winces at himself as you put the laptop back into its case and turn around to face him, and he can't stop himself from quickly glancing over your body. 

Crossing your arms under your chest, unintentionally drawing his attention to your tits, you scoff at him. “If I knew I was gonna be stuck in this shithole with you, then I would have made sure to wear a fucking hazmat suit.” 

“Relax, sweetheart, I’m not gonna bite.” He smirked, finally deciding on a channel he liked and turning his attention to it as you stood and stared at him, mouth open because out of all the things you expected him to say, that was not one of them, especially not with the flirtatious lilt to his voice. 

“Do not- do not tell me to relax! And don’t call me that! And- and ugh!” You retort weakly, strutting the few steps it took to get to the other side of the bed, 

Bucky licks his lips as you lay down next to him with your back towards him. Still huffing and puffing like the brat you were. 

He snorts at you, glancing at his watch and turning the TV off. 

“Do not snort at me, James.” Your voice comes out sharp, and he snorts again. 

“Tell me again what I can’t do, sweetheart? " he asks in a mockingly sweet voice. It makes you sick to your stomach.

 With desire.

You ignore him and tug the small comforter towards you, the bed suddenly feeling really small, with Bucky’s large frame taking up more than half of it. 

“Quit stealing the covers.” He grunts out, tugging them back towards him and leaving you bare and exposed to the cool air of the room. You gasp and sit up., using all your force to pull the covers back towards you, and even though you both know he let go, you still stick your tongue out at him. 

He grumbles something under his breath, and you smile victoriously. You’ll let the covers go eventually; you need to bask in your victory for a few minutes. Your mind begins to relax as you snuggle into the bed before you hear a sharp exhale, and somehow, you go from facing the dim wall to being pinned under Bucky. His frame entirely dwarfs yours, and the only light filtering in the room was the street lights and moon, the thin curtains doing nothing to block the shine. You shriek as you’re manhandled so quickly and forced to look into Bucky’s now dark blue eyes.

“Enough. I’ve had enough.” He growls, his hand pinning both your wrists down, and you have to fight yourself to keep in all tells of how aroused you are by the situation. 

“You’re such a fucking brat,” he continues. “Didn’t shut up for two hours straight. Always think you’re right. Always act like you’re smarter than everyone. Always fucking teasing me with your slutty fucking outfits.” He looks down at your tank top, almost angry when he sees your nipples poking through the thin material, but he doesn’t give you a chance to say anything.

Because now, Bucky’s talking. And he’s going to make sure you hear each and every word. 

“You think I don’t see the way you look at me?” 

A squeak escapes your lips as he presses his body down on yours.

“You think I can’t hear the way your heart rate picks up when I’m around?” His head drops lower, and his voice drops even lower, pulling a whimper from your parted lips. Your mind is spinning as you realize you may not have been as discreet as you thought you were. You entirely forgot to consider the fact that Bucky is a supersoldier, with enhanced hearing.

His rumbling voice cuts through your flurry of thoughts, “You think I can’t fucking smell you?” He practically sneers at you, and you must be a sick, sick person with the way you’re sure you’ve never been more wet in your life. “You think I can’t smell the way you drip from this little pussy every time I walk in the room? Every time someone mentions my goddamn name? I can smell her right now sweetheart. You like me forcing you down don’t you?” His breath fans over your face as you’re forced to focus on him, his body and his scent and his voice overwhelming you. Your body shudders when he gently rocks his crotch against yours, your eyes rolling back into your head. 

“What baby? Cat got your tongue now? You were being such a brat to me earlier.” He grunts, squeezing your cheeks and jaw in his free hand as you subconsciously buck your hips against his. 

“Bucky please…” You whine, squirming against his impenetrable hold. 

He smirks, “what’s wrong honey? You haven’t been this quiet or polite all day.”

“You- you’re being such a meanie! You knew the whole time and just never did anything about it!” You whine, your voice catching in your throat with each languid rock of his crotch angled perfectly against your clit. 

He laughs in your face and takes in the sight before him, your head thrown to the side as your chest heaves, your hips moving in tandem with his, your pouted lips swollen from being bitten so often. You were even more gorgeous like this and Bucky didn’t know that was possible.

“I wanted to see if you’d break first. But then, you just had to walk in here wearing this pathetic excuse of a pyjama set. And I just had to have you honey baby.”

You look back at him, a fiery expression in your eyes, “I don’t think that’s the real reason. I think you just wouldn’t be able to handle me. I think you can’t fuck me the way I need to be.” You spit back, not wanting to submit without a fight despite knowing that was exactly the direction this was going. 

In an instant Bucky’s metal hand was on your throat, squeezing enough to make your eyes blur for a second as you let out a whimper. “Is that right honey? You think I’ve never dealt with a rotten brat like you before? I know you pretend to put up a fight, I know you’re two strokes away from cumming all over yourself just from a little dry-humping. I know brats like you crave attention, but baby when you finally get it you better not run away? You got that?” He asks earnestly, his eyes locking on yours. 

“Do your worst James.” 

The second the words leave your mouth, his lips are on yours. The kiss is unlike any you’ve had before, it’s immediately messy and passionate, his tongue sliding in yours as he takes the lead, swallowing all your mewls and whimpers, finally letting go of your wrists and your fingers immediately go to his cropped hair, tugging on the short strands as he dominates you. You scramble to pull your shorts down but his hands flick your wrists away, giving you a glare.

“Did I say you could take these off, huh slut?” 

You whimper and shake your head no, finding yourself wanting to submit to him all too quickly.

He slides his briefs down to reveal his cock. You actually drooled a little at the sight of his length and girth, with beads of pre-cum glistening in the dim light of the room. You can’t control yourself as your hands go to wrap around his length, barely able to hold him in your hands as he hisses, bucking his hips into your hands before swatting them away once again.

“You don’t get to touch honey baby. Not yet at least. You yelled at me for hours today, it really hurt my feelings you know.” He muses, beginning to rub his length against your white shorts that are completely drenched through, your pussy sensitive and responsive. “I don’t think you deserve to be fucked sweetheart. You deserve to have this cunt rubbed on and came on. Just used like a cum rag.” He goes a little further, reading your reaction and when your back arches as much as his beefy body allowed you to, he knows you liked it. 

“Please James please I’m sorry, I’ll be good I swear!” You whine, your voice rising in pitch as his bare cock slides up and down the length of your pussy, and even through the layer seperating you, it was euphoric.

“I dunno honey, might have to beg and cry a little more and I’ll see how nice I’m feelin’ tonight.” He smiles cockily, knowing he’s got you exactly where he wants you. Almost instantly your eyes are watering as you clutch his biceps, morphing your features into big doe eyes and pouted lips, jutting your chest out in an attempt to persuade him further. “I’m sorry for bein’ a brat and yelling at you. I’m sorry for talking back and- and I need you James. Need you to fuck me please I wanted it for so long!” You drag your sentence and bite your lip, tears spiling onto your cheeks. 

He inhales sharply at the sound of your begging, stilling his hips for a moment as he restrains himself from cumming before he’s even seen your bare pussy. And in the next second he ripping your shorts to shreds, making you shriek and you can’t even get a reaction out before he spits onto your already soaked cunt, watching his spit mingle with your own arousal. You moan at the feeling, your hold twitching and practically begging to be filled. 

Bucky breathes in your scent since it envelopes his nostrils without any restrictions for the first time. When he opens his eyes again and sees your hazy expression he decides he can’t wait. He’s not gonna take it slow because he needs to feel you clench around him right now. His flesh index finger teases your pulsing hole, shoving the tip of his finger inside you as you whine, legs spreading for him on instinct. “Fuck she’s just begging to be stuffed isn’t she? Just aching to have my cock stretch her open.” He groans, dropping his forehead to yours as you chant breathy yes’s, mouth falling open and tears continuing down your face as he finally spreads you open on his cock. 

You have never felt so full in your life. Bucky was absolutely larger than average, in all ways. And it was exactly what you had been craving. He moans as you clench around him, your hole trying to push him out but pull him in at the same time. Before you know it he’s balls deep inside of you, your cream coating the hairs at the base of his length as you moan loudly, uncaring of the fact that Sam and Natasha were just a paper-thin wall away.

Your nails dug crescents into Buckys bulging biceps as he allowed you both a few moments to adjust to each other. “Oh my god Bucky you’re so- I’m so full.” Your words are breathy and slurred, and Bucky presses a kiss to each of your cheeks as he slowly grinds his hips into yours, not fully thrusting yet. 

“You know I want this to be more than just a quick fuck. When we get back I wanna take you out, wine and dine you properly.” He whispers against your lips, his hands and voice gentle compared to his earlier disposition. 

You nod your head in agreement, “I want that too Bucky, but I need you to fuck me right now.” 

He laughs, pressing a kiss to your cheek before pulling almost entirely out of you, allowing your hole to stretch around his tip before he slams into you, making your back arch and all the breath from your lungs dissipates. You squeal his name as he begins fucking into you with little care to be gentle. Your hands scramble to hold on as the headboard slams into the wall with every push and pull of his hips.

“I thought you said I couldn’t handle you honey baby. But look at you now, so stupid on my dick and just taking what I give you.” He mocks you, his metal hand finding its way to your throat once again and squeezing, relishing in the way you cunt clenches against him when he does. You cry out louder than before and he hisses, slapping his palm over your mouth. He grunts through clenched teeth, “shut the fuck up. You want Sam and Nat to hear you crying for my dick huh? What would they say if they saw strong and independent you, stretched open and cock-drunk, pinned under me and crying for me?”

Your eyes clench shut as your words are unintelligible and muffled by his palm. He coos at you and clicks his tongue, making you shiver. “Don’t think too much honey baby, just take it. This is what you’re meant to do, not be a brat. Just take my cock.” He groans, speeding up his thrusts as the sound of skin slapping skin and your wetness squelching fill the room. 

Your chest begins heaving as the oxygen to your brain takes more effort to get there. You were being propelled to your orgasm as you begin chanting the fact, your voice so pornographic and unlike your own but you can’t even find it in yourself to be shocked.

“‘M gonna cum, m gonna cum! You’re gonna make me cum please Daddy please!” The words leave your lips faster than you can process, and what was about to erupt into the most powerful orgasm you have ever had, was left denied and unsatisfied and you cried out, beginning your protests when Bucky flipped you around, your back to his chest as he shoved himself back inside of you. He pulled you up by your hair and brought his lips to your ears, his cock hitting an even deeper angle as you struggled to keep up.

“What did you call me?” He growls, not letting up his thrusts but expecting you to answer.

Your brain struggles to process his words, but once you do you’re quick to realize you let the word you often used in your fantasies about Bucky slip. You immediately apologize, thinking he must be off-put by your lewdness. 

He cuts your scrambled apologies off with his heavy voice, “say it again. That’s what you’ve been really dying to call me isn’t it. Just needed Daddy to take what he needed from you didn’t you?”

“Oh fuck.” Your head falls against his chest as he wraps his bicep around your throat, forcing you upright, “yes Daddy, needed my Daddy to take care of me.” You slur out, Your hands clutching his bicep as his metal fingers begin playing expertly with your throbbing clit. 

“That’s right slut, I’m your Daddy. I’m your fucking Daddy.” He impales you on his dick, his cock reaching all the rights spots as your brain truly begins to leave you, all you can do is succumb to the pleasure Bucky is inflicting on you. Your pussy clenches harder than it has before as your orgasm builds in the pit of your stomach, you try to run from it but Bucky’s strong hold doesn’t allow you to move even a slither away. 

“Oh what does this little pussy clenching mean huh? Tell Daddy baby, tell Daddy what it means when I feel you clench around my cock huh? You gonna cum? Gonna make a mess all over yourself like the stupid little toy you are?” His voice is breathless in your ear as he nears his own high, your body shaking as your high begins building to impossible heights. 

You slur out something that resembles his title and an exclamation that you’re gonna cum, and his metal hand slaps your clit once, and then twice, his gravelly voice in your ear degrading you, and your high explodes from your body. You feel it everywhere as you don’t register anything except for pleasure. Pleasure like you’ve never felt before. Bucky drops his forehead to your shoulder, muttering your name through clenched teeth as he calls you a good girl, before stuffing you full of his cum. Thick white ropes paint your swollen walls and it only amplifies your high as you struggle to breathe, your mind and body overwhelmed and overstimulated as Bucky pumps you full of his cum. 

He gently lets you down and your limp body manages to cling onto him, needing to feel him close to you as you reel from your explosive orgasm. He shushes you, kissing your forehead, cooing at you, praising you. Everything you need to avoid experiencing a negative subdrop since he did just put you into such a submissive mindset. 

It takes a couple minutes of his tender words and touches for you to come back to yourself, and when you do he smiles sweetly at you. Pulling out of you and shushing your whines, as he reaches over to his nightstand where there were a few clean hand towels, and he cleans you up, mindful of your sensitivity and he places a kiss right above your clit, his beard scratching the sensitive button making you shudder and mewl. 

He wraps you up in his arms and pulling you closer, nuzzling your cheek with his nose as you blink at him. 

“I was being serious you know, I don’t want this to be a one and done thing. I wanna be yours, if you’ll have me.” He adds, his voice trailing off and you put your hand on his stubbled cheek before pressing your lips to his. 

“That’s all I’ve wanted since I first saw you.” You say softly, basking in being so close to him and having all his attention on you. 

He smiles brightly, pressing his lips to yours with more fervour and flutters in his heart. “You’re mine now sweetie, stuck with me forever. No return policy.” He teases. 

“I think you’re the one who’s stuck with me after you just dicked me down like that. No way am I getting rid of you.” You mumble sleepily, clinging to him as he smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead and watching you slip into a dreamland state.

For the first time in years, Bucky sleeps a full eight hours. And he wakes up with you by his side.

---------

The next morning, when it’s 9 AM, and you waddle onto the jet, Bucky tailing close behind you, a hand on your back to support your weight, Natasha and Sam share knowing looks, and Sam quickly texts Steve and Tony. He let them know they were on their way, and they owed him and Nat 100 bucks because their plan worked.

[fangswbenefits]

The Arrangement (15) - Acquaintances

Summary: Astarion meets a friend of old and quickly realises it might have just cost him something very dear to him.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Mentions of past trauma and abuse. Mentions of abuse.

Note: This post on reddit shed some light on Cazador, so I definitely giving it a read!

Word count: 3.3k

Series masterlist . Ao3

In times past, Astarion would have found momentary solace in the person standing right before him. After all, silence and whatever could be called normalcy were hard to come by in Cazador's palace.

The servants had been the very embodiment of the life he had long lost. In fact, they had been the only life that roamed the vast halls. All had accepted  being there willingly and under the foolish illusion that Cazador would one day grant them the gift of immortality. 

If you could actually call it a gift…

And even though they were loyal to the vampire lord to a fault, they were, for the most part, quite amicable to his spawn as well. Some would even tend to the vast and deep wounds inflicted by Cazador after he had spent his wrath.

Astarion had been quite fortunate to be on the receiving end of their mercy on numerous occasions, when his field of vision was nothing but a pool of blood – a sore reminder that crossing Cazador Szarr was not to be taken lightly.

Eyla?

He did remember her name and her kindness and gentle touch amidst his wails of pain.

“Surprised to see me?”

The slim figure took a few sure steps in his direction as he cradled your limp form in his arms, still overrun with shock.

Astarion tried to talk, but no words left his mouth.

“I suppose your silence is a novelty,” she said, coming to a halt as she pushed the hood down, revealing her pleasant face. “After all, you were always the loud and troublesome one.”

For better or for worse, navigating through undeath and the unpredictability of his circumstances ever since he was snatched from Baldur's gate, had taught him a thing or two about being prepared and always on guard.

The dagger tightly strapped to his thigh was proof of it. He would only need to move his hand slightly under you to reach the hilt.

“What have you done to her?”

The woman's lips were pressed into a fine line for a long while, as if examining his question.

His patience was running thin, and he tried hard to keep her engaged enough so he could find a way to incapacitate her.

“Do not fret – she will be fine,” she said with a sigh, drawing even closer. “Not that it wouldn't give me great pleasure to put an end to the so-called hero of Baldur's Gate and her role in what you did to the master.”

Ah.

He should have known that this had something to do with Cazador. It seemed that he was destined to have him haunt him even in true death.

The sudden realisation hit him so hard he held you even closer to his body, shifting along the bench as if that would create a safe distance from Eyla.

Surprised was soon drowned out by the ever-growing anger that took root within him. He was known for his temper and outbursts, and clearly not the most sensible man when cornered.

But this was something else entirely.

Astarion had over two hundred years of having the worst atrocities being inflicted upon his body and mind. As far as he was concerned, he had managed to find useful ways to deal with imminent threats to him.

But he wasn't so lenient when it came to you.

You were off limits to anyone.

And he wasn't going to allow any harm to befall you.

“You'd be wise to undo this right now, or this conversation will be rather short.”

She had the nerve to snicker, eyes flickering under the moonlight. “Freedom has made you even more insufferable and entitled. Godey ought to have been harsher to you back then. I reckon one hundred more lashings would have made a difference each time you crossed the master.”

Rage swirled throughout his body like poisonous fumes, and he found it hard to stay put through the taunting.

But she was a fool to think she could best him in his natural element. After all, he had a tongue sharp enough to rival the blade of his dagger.

“Well, darling,” he started, slipping nearly effortlessly into his usual demeanour, “Godey is now nothing but a pile of dust, so unless you intend on joining him for a tea party in the afterlife, I'd make sure to tread lightly.”

And like clockwork, the first cracks began to show.

Her face dropped ever so slightly and he figured he had one - maybe two if the gods above even cared to bestow him any grace - sneer remark left before she lashed out at him.

“You insolent and ungrateful brat,” Eyla spat out through gritted teeth, both fists clenched at her sides, allowing him to infer 

Well, he had clearly exhausted her patience already, hadn't he?

No bother.

His right hand now gripped the handle of the dagger firmly, as he readied himself for an imminent physical confrontation.

But something made him freeze almost instantly, and his gaze dropped briefly to your face.

Maybe, just maybe, it was merely his mind playing tricks on him and feeding off his desperation, but he could swear he felt you shift slightly against him.

And then he saw your face tense.

A sudden wave of relief washed down on him, his free hand giving you a reassuring squeeze.

Good girl.

It was in moments like this that he vaguely wished – much to his utter disgust – that the wriggling worm was still a . He would have made good use of them right now.

More than relief, he felt pride.

He had yet to meet someone quite as resilient as you. Whatever incantation had been cast on you surely wasn't enough to contain the tempest within you.

You had been shaped by the elements and woven into a sorcerer whose magic wasn't so easily put out. He had been foolish to think a mere vampire lord servant could ever be a match against your mind.

“Isn't it enough that you turned on your master and betrayed him?”

Oh, what a bloody nuisance. He had no patience to entertain speeches of heartbroken servants whose wet dream had been crushed.

However…

You shifted again, but no sound came from your parting lips.

Astarion knew then he had to play the waiting game. There was no denying you were slowly but surely coming to your senses, but he couldn't draw attention to it.

More than friends, you two had grown to become teammates, taking in on each other's queues to know when to make the right move.

He knew you needed time, and time he would give you.

Meeting her eyes with defiance, he took on the challenge. “What Cazador sold you was naught but a fantasy.”

Your hand shifted next.

Mentioning his name so blatantly made her visibly shudder. “How dare you? You utter his name with no regard that he saved you from certain death.”

He leaned back with a roll of his eyes, further reeling her into his trap. “Oh, please. And what would he save you from, exactly? Idiocy? I am afraid it would take more than a vampire bite to fix such ailment, dear Eyla. Eternal life can only do so much.”

Warmth began spreading under his palm, letting him know that you were returning to him.

Still, you needed more time.

“Your words might work on the weak, but not on me.”

“And yet… you managed to serve a vampire lord who had no intention to ever deliver his promises.”

Eyla was young and naive, so he couldn't truly fault her for being so passionate and loyal. Cazador's grasp reached far and viciously. Astarion had once fallen for his 

“That does not make me weak.”

A crooked grin curled his lips. “Just an idiot, then.”

He tugged on his dagger slowly, allowing his fingers to glide down across the blade, knowing that, sooner or later, he would have to make use of it.

Eyla scoffed, crossing her arms, apparently unaware that you were no longer unconscious.

Come on… you're almost there, darling, he urged sweetly in his head as if his words could ever reach you.

“The others warned me that you had become rather insufferable.”

Others?

“Oh, how very interesting,” he said, trying his best to ignore your hand clawing at his shirt. “Ava?”

Were they… friends? In on this together?

Her brows furrowed. “The monster hunter whore you befriended? Don't insult me.”

Clearly not.

Well… 

“Does this rendezvous even have a purpose?” Astarion said with a forced yawn. “Are we to swap snarky remarks until one of us perishes? I had more engaging plans for this evening.”

The serenity in her face had given her away. 

She wasn't alone and he was a master of shadows.

Even in the poorly lit area, he could see silhouettes drawing near right behind her. That was certainly yet another nuisance he would have to deal with.

“Astarion…”

Your voice snapped him out of his bloodbath scheming right away.

For a brief moment, he let his guard down by meeting your hazy eyes.

“There you are.”

His voice was almost shaky from relief, but it would come at a cost.

It had been an unfortunate distraction.

He wasn't sure how he managed to tap so quickly into his reflexes, but he soon felt the warm and familiar splatter of blood hit his face, making him wince from bloodlust.

In the midst of chaos and footsteps and hisses surrounding him, he was able to spot the man he had hurled his dagger at, slicing clean through the pulsing artery in his neck. The obscene gush of blood that ensued as he hit the ground was enough to drive any vampire mad.

And he was not immune to it.

He hadn't fed in days and he could use this to his advantage. In fact, he reckoned it would be the only way out.

Droplets streamed down his face, hitting his lips, and he wasn't strong enough to deny himself of an added burst of power. As such, his tongue darted out and a rumbling groan tore through him as the liquid progressively took over his senses. One by one.

Blood was blood.

He would have preferred yours, but he was far too hungry to be picky.

He had pushed you right behind him as he leapt from the bench, determined to take on anyone who dared to come close.

By the time he had managed to retrieve his dagger, Eyla had a smile dancing on her lips. One that had his eyes wide.

Astarion was fast and agile, but he was also severely outnumbered.

Two other men had rushed to his side, and he flinched as something began poking at his lower abdomen, as they looped strong arms around his own, immobilising him in place.

Wooden stakes.

“Astarion…”

Your voice was still void of the life it usually held. It was evident that you were still weak and in no condition to fight.

And, in truth, he wasn't even sure he wanted you to.

“Drop the dagger.”

It wasn't a request.

It was a command and he wasn't sure how to dodge this one. He usually carried knives and other daggers on him just to be on the safe side, but he didn't think he would need those tonight.

Fucking idiot…

No amount of self-deprecation would get him out of this one.

They wanted to kill him for what he had done to Cazador. They wanted revenge and he wasn't sure how his wits and snarky replies would talk him out of this one.

He groaned as one man drove the stake harsher against him, from under his shirt. Still, the pressure wasn't enough to break skin. Not yet, at least.

As a reflex, he immediately let go of the dagger, hearing it land with a muffled thump on the grass.

Eyla's spirit had been renewed and she took measured steps towards him. 

He heard grunts from his side as you struggled to sit down on the bench, flickering snaps of lightning emerging from your hands.

That almost made him smile.

You were a fighter through and through, and he wouldn't mind parting this world in these terms. Knowing you had been enough to ease the pain of centuries of hurt. He had been given a second chance at life when he met you and not when he was made immortal. 

He had never felt more alive than in the moments he had spent with you and he would wish to have more, but he couldn't wish for that at your expense. After all, you had your whole life ahead of you. 

He had had his fill. 

He was ready to meet whatever fate awaited him, as long as you were kept safe.

“You're coming with us.”

His brows furrowed, caught by surprise.

“Do not harm her.”

Eyla was so close he could feel her hot breath on his skin, fanning the blood on his face that had begun to dry into sticky patches.

“We are not harming anyone,” she said viciously. “But we've had enough of you running around unscathed after what you've done.”

He wished he could tear his eyes from you, but it was like a force field. Your arms trembled as you tried your best to rein in the elements inside you. Lighting and fire swirled erratically from your hands. 

Yours was wild magic.

Hard to harness and bend to your will.

Even harder when thrown off balance unexpectedly.

“Look at me, Astarion.”

The two men pressed the stakes harder and he had no choice but to comply, meeting her eyes again.

“Did you really think we were going to allow you to have your happily ever after? That you could off into the sunset with her once you found a way to not burn to ashes?”

She was mocking him… goading him, knowing he was rendered immobile.

“Have you been the ones sabotaging this all along?”

A surge of outrage nearly burst from deep within as her silence answered his question. 

“Surprised?”

That would be an understatement. He couldn't even begin to describe the turmoil that gripped him from the inside out.

“Why…” His voice faltered momentarily, “why not just kill me right when you had the chance?”

At this, Eyla laughed. “Is there a bigger punishment than the illusion of freedom? Killing you would have been the kinder way out for you,” she went on, each word dripping with poison. “No. No, Astarion. You were a fool to hope. You were a fool to hope your misery was over.”

A part of him was still in shock at the revelation, and he had no smart jabs that could possibly help him right now.

But the truth was that, the rest of him, had begun to accept that. He had been a fool indeed to think he could have had any other ending than this.

That he could have had a semblance of happiness with you.

“But I think that we are tired of playing this game. Maybe it's finally time to kill you.”

Just like a punch to his gut, he was quickly overtaken with dread as he heard a faint whimper from you.. “If you're going to kill me, don't do it in front of her.”

“You are in no position to make demands.”

“Please.”

He was running out of time. 

He thought he had bought enough for you to recover, but you couldn't even bring yourself to sit upright, let alone save him from whatever awaited him.

Most importantly, he was running out of ways to ensure you weren't scarred for life for witnessing him being destroyed.

“Oh, you're going to beg? The way you used to beg Cazador to stop carving the scars you carry on you, hmm?” Eyla said, visibly satisfied with the effect her words had on him. “Get on your knees and beg, then.”

“No… fuck…” you said in between groans. 

He'd rather you had lost consciousness once again, for each word from you was as a dagger that was carved into him.

“Astarion. Do not kneel…”

The two men holding him tight chuckled darkly as his knees began to cave in, but before he could go through with it, Eyla raised one hand, halting him.

“What if we kill her instead?” she chirped, making her way to you. “I think we should. Astarion would have an eternity to suffer for having killed the only person he has ever truly loved.”

Blinded by anguish, Astarion lurched forward, feeling both men struggling to keep him in place. He felt the sharp tips of the wooden stakes break skin just enough to draw blood, but he powered through the fear that loomed over him.

“I will fucking kill you if you touch her!”

With a click of her tongue, Eyla sat next to you, one hand caressing your head as you spilled curses at her, still drained from whatever magic had been cast on you.

“You'd be staked before you could even reach me, silly boy,” she said, revealing a knife from under her sleeve. “Now that I think about it, killing her seems the most reasonable choice here.”

You tried to flinch away from her grasp, and Astarion felt himself go mad from the sight in front of him.

He was about to scream when they muffled him with a piece of cloth, robbing him of his voice.

Reflexively, he tried to break free once more, but he was far too weak to put up a fight.

He knew it was futile, but he had abandoned all reason. Even though he had savoured blood, he was still too weak to break through the hold they had on him. Each pull from him and each attempt to break free were quickly met with an immovable force.

When his eyes met yours, he saw you mouth something.

And it broke him.

He didn't need to hear it.

He knew what you were attempting to say.

Thank you.

He doubted any torture Cazador had ever inflected on him could ever match the pain he was currently experiencing.

Eyla suddenly grabbed a vial from her robes, spilling the clear liquid along the sharp blade.

“Isn't it poetic justice that you are a master of poisons, and she gets to die at your hand?”

He recognised the vial as his.

It was his poison.

He couldn't tell which one, but it hardly mattered. Each poison he concocted was terrible through and through. They were designed to hurt and, ultimately, kill.

Soon, you began to sob, swirls of fire engulfing your hands as frustration gripped you. You were unable to get your magic under control and you were going to die.

For him.

Because of him.

Eyla threw him a final glance, positioning the top of the knife right across your neck. You stilled immediately, knowing any sudden movement could have the blade slice right through.

He tried to speak again, but all his words came out unintelligible. 

“If you scream, they'll stake you.”

Eagerly, he nodded, and they swiftly removed the cloth from in between his teeth.

“Please. Don't!” Astarion said in sheer despair. “I will do whatever you want!”

She narrowed her eyes at him for a moment. “You have nothing to offer us.”

He had to try.

He had to try to buy himself more time in the hopes that someone had heard him and might 

“You want eternal life, don't you?”

Silence. Dreadful and agonising silence.

“I can find a way to help you. There are other true vampires out there.”

Eyla tapped the side of her blade to your skin as she pondered his words. She then exchanged looks with both men.

“Should we take his offer?”

Had he made it? Had he managed to bluff his way out of this one? To possibly get you somewhere safe?

Hope.

Eyla lifted the poisonous blade and Astarion felt a crushing weight being lifted from him.

She locked eyes with him for what seemed like a lifetime.

Please. Please. Please. 

Eyla clicked her tongue with a pout. “I don't think so.”

And he watched in horror as she moved her hand to swiftly bury the knife into your abdomen.

“NO!”

Astarion felt his body go limp as his field of vision got flooded with a golden and warm beam that tore through the night sky akin to how the sun breaks the dawn. 

Next chapter: When All Things End

[zegrasdrysdale]

“who did this to you?”

with jamie drysdale

part of the 1k celly event

summary : after an encounter with an ex that leaves her with some bruising and feeling unsafe, she finds herself in Jamie's apartment, where her best friend is there for her like he always is

warning(s) : mentions of abuse / an abusive event, a past toxic relationship, oc made up for the plot

author’s note : i felt v inspired to write something for jamie so here y'all go

༺──────────────༻

She shouldn't have come out tonight. That's the only thing she can think of as she sits on the back of an ambulance. Her friend is talking to authorities while her face, wrist, and hand get checked out. Her ex-boyfriend is cuffed and being put in the back of a police car.

Her cheekbone stings and she can barely see out of her left eye. Her wrist is sore from landing on it awkwardly when she fell, and her hand hurts from being able to land one punch in self defense. She spoke to the same authorities as she was making sure her hand wasn't broken from that punch she landed.

The officer she spoke to made it clear that she wasn't in the wrong. He started everything when he came up to her and harassed her. She gave him several chances to walk away when he approached her. All she did was gently push him away from her when he got too close, and he started going off on her. That's how she ended up with a bruised face, busted up hand, and sore wrist.

It was all worth it though because she's been waiting for her asshole ex to finally go to jail for what he did to her during their relationship. She has all the pictures and proof they would need to put him away for awhile when she sends it to authorities.

For now though, she needs to go home and shower. She feels gross since her ex put his hands on her. Plus, a warm shower sounds like a dream.

Her friend comes over to her when she's done talking with the officer. The EMT looks between them as he finishes up his exam.

"I don't see a reason to go to the hospital tonight," he explains. "The cut on your cheek is superficial so it doesn't require stitches. I don't suspect any broken bones but if things feel like they're not getting any better by next week then head to an Urgent Care or the emergency room. Your neuro function is intact so I don't suspect brain injury. Ice and heat on your wrist and hand, and maybe even ice your cheek and eye to keep swelling down. Over the counter meds like Ibuprofen should be strong enough to keep pain at bey but again, if it gets too painful or things don't improve, seek medical help. Any questions?"

Both girls shake their heads. "Thank you," she tells the EMT. "Glad I'm not going to the hospital tonight."

The EMT packs up the medical kit. "I wouldn't drive until the swelling around your eye goes down," he suggests.

"I drove us here today so no worries," her friend replies. "Thanks for checking her out and keeping her out of the hospital."

He nods and the girls head to the car. She looks at her friend as they approach her car. The duo get in and heat immediately greets both of them as soon as the car is turned on. She hums at the warm air. It was too cold outside in her tiny dress and now broken heels.

She looks out the window as the police car with her ex drives off.

Her ex-boyfriend is probably not happy that he's going to jail, but he'll probably get out on bail until whatever happens next. The thought of him getting out of jail makes her stomach do somersaults. She gets very nervous going back to her apartment all by herself.

As her friend pulls out of the parking lot, she asks, "Can you drop me off at Jamie's instead of my place?"

"Yeah, sure," her friend replies. "Don't feel like going back to your own apartment?"

She shakes her head and looks out the window at the passing buildings. "I don't feel very safe going there by myself," she explains. "Security isn't exactly the best."

"I get it. I'll take you to Jamie's. I was thinking about doing that for the same reason."

The car ride gets quiet after that comment. She plays with her fingers and rubs her wrist when it gets too painful.

She thinks back to the events of the night and thinks that maybe she provoked him. She did shove him away from her so maybe it is her fault that she ended up in this position. It's always her fault anyway. It was always her fault when they were together so why would now be any different?

It wouldn't be any different.

Fifteen minutes after they leave the bar, the car pulls up to Jamie's apartment building. She thanks her friend for the ride and gets out. Shaking from the cold and the night's events, she pushes the buzzer to his apartment.

Hopefully he lets her in because it's kind of late. She has to push the button for a second time and slowly begins to lose hope that he's up.

"Who is it?" Jamie's voice suddenly comes from the intercom.

"It's me," she replies. "It's cold. Can I come up?"

The door in front of her buzzes and she lets herself into the building. She takes the elevator up to the fifth floor. She makes her way down the hallway to Jamie's apartment.

She only has to knock three times before the door swings open.

Jamie's eyes widen as he takes in her appearance. The sight of him is enough to make her lip wobble as she holds back tears. He reaches up and gently cups her face. His thumb grazes the cut on her cheek.

"Who did this to you?" he asks, voice soft. "Oh my God."

"I'm okay," she tells him. "Bruised and in a little pain but I'm okay. No broken bones, no concussion. It was Evan. I went out tonight with a friend and he was there and he-" She cuts herself off. "He got too close and I pushed him away and he attacked me."

"Come here."

He pulls her into his arms and envelopes her in a hug. She buries her face in his chest, ignoring the sharp pain that accompanies her action. Her tears begin to flow, wetting his t-shirt.

The door shuts behind her. Jamie's fingers run through her curls as he just holds her.

Neither of them speak, but his hug is enough to make her feel safer than she ever has. Since their breakup, she's been terrified that Evan was going to pull something like this. She never got a restraining order because that meant she would've had to actually file a report, and that would've only pissed him off.

Being here with Jamie though, she feels incredibly safe. His arms are her home. They've always been her home. She's always wanted them to be her home.

"Let's get you changed and into bed," Jamie says. "I'm sure you want to get into something more comfortable. Plus, you look a little cold. and my bed is nice and warm."

She pulls back and looks up at her best friend. Jamie reaches up to gently dry her cheeks, avoiding the cut and bruises on her face. She leans into his touch and Jamie doesn't move his hands. She wishes she could see out of both her eyes because all she wants to do is look at Jamie.

Feelings have always been there for him. She's had some kind of feelings for Jamie for years, but it was recently when she realized that she loved him. The only place she wanted to be was here after Evan attacked her at the bar.

Her first thought when Evan was landing punch after punch was how much she wished Jamie was there to protect her. He probably wouldn't have gone after her had Jamie been there.

"Thank you for letting me crash here," she whispers. "I know it's kind of a burden with your schedule-"

"You'll never be a burden," Jamie interrupts. "You could've shown up here at three in the morning on a game day and I'd still be up and opening the door for you. You're more important than hockey, and you always will be."

Her vision gets blurry all over again as she looks up at him. "I don't deserve you," she tells him, voice cracking in the process. Jamie tries to say something but she shakes her head. "I don't, Jamie. You've always been here for me despite your crazy life. You've always made time for me no matter where you are or what's going on in your life."

"Because you're my best friend," he explains. "And I-" Jamie cuts himself off, shaking his head. "You're more important than anything that's going on in my life."

The tears fall over and roll down her cheeks. Jamie's thumbs wipe them away. "Really?"

"Really," he softly tells her. "I would drop whatever I was doing to make sure you're okay. I mean it, okay. I'd even leave practice if you called and said you needed me somewhere, even if it meant that I got benched the next game. It kills me that I wasn't there to protect you tonight. I could've prevented this."

That's what she's wanted to hear. She's been waiting for those words to pass his lips. "I wanted you there tonight," she admits. "All I wanted after was you. Jamie, I wish you could've been there to protect me, but you're protecting me now by letting me be here."

He tucks a loose curl behind her ear. "You're welcome to stay as long as you want," he tells her. "Stay until you feel safe going back to your apartment by yourself. Hell, I'd be okay if you moved in if that would help you feel safer."

She nods and sucks on her bottom lip. "Thank you."

"That's what I'm here for," Jamie whispers. "Let's go get you changed, okay? We can talk more when you're more comfortable. I'll go grab you something to wear from my closet."

She nods for a second time and Jamie lets her go to go get her some clothes. Her eyes follow him before her feet begin to move. She follows him into his bedroom and he digs through his closet to grab something for her to sleep in. She leans against the doorframe.

Jamie tosses a t-shirt and pair of gym shorts onto the bed. "I'll let you get changed," he tells her. "Come out when you're done and I'll make you something to eat or get you a snack. Whatever you want, okay?"

"Okay," she agrees. "Thanks."

He nods and pushes past her to leave the room. She grabs his wrist as he walks by. Jamie stops in his tracks and looks at her, eyebrows raised in question.

Without an exchanged word, she pulls him toward her gently. Jamie looks down at her while her eyes scan his face. She reaches up and cups his stubbled jaw, tracing his cheekbones with her thumbs. Her heart races in her chest as she gets on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek, dangerously close to the corner of his mouth. She lingers longer than she should before she pulls back and flattens her feet.

Seconds seem like hours as the two of them look at each other in the doorway of Jamie's bedroom. Neither of them have moved in a little bit. She doesn’t think she wants to move at this point.

Jamie makes the first move though. He returns the same cheek kiss and she closes her eyes, taking in his touch. She turns her head before he can pull back. His face is super close to hers, and he doesn’t move.

He mumbles something then crashes his lips to hers in a kiss that makes her head spin. Her fingers slide into his hair and cradle the back of his head.

She used to dream of his kisses when her feelings for him started to develop years ago. She had sweeter dreams where they would share soft kisses. There also were dreams where she would wake up and need a cold shower to calm herself down.

This is nothing like those dreams. She imagined their first kiss thousands of times, but she never imagined it would happen like this. It’s soft, yet heated. He’s being so careful not to hurt her.

That’s Jamie Drysdale.

The kiss is short, but it makes her want more. Just not tonight. It’s already been a long night.

“Get some sleep,” Jamie tells her. “I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

“Stay.”

“Not tonight. I want to make sure you’re safe first.”

“I’d be safer with you here with me,” she admits. “Don’t sleep on the couch. Stay with me. Jamie, please.”

He thinks about it for a second before he nods. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

If Jamie is going to do anything, it’s be there for her. He’s always there for her, no matter what.

And that’s what she loves most about him.

༺──────────────༻

MASTERLIST | 1K CELLY EVENT

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[typeofraccoon]

Hiii um can I request a fluff five x reader fic where the reader is also an adult stuck in their teenage body, and has a demeanor similar to Lila, they’re like super smart but always some of the most off-the-wall shit that doesn’t really sound smart at first but after a minute of thinking you’re like ‘oh shit Ok yeah that makes sense’. (Sorry if this doesn’t make much sense btw)

-rem

Part Of It

Five Hargreeves x Reader

Five Hargreeves Masterlist

I'm gonna make this kinda in an au where s3 didn't happen and Lila went with the Hargreeves instead of just leaving at the end of s2 and Ben's alive like actually alive not a ghost.

Also sorry if this isn't what you were thinking of.

Warnings: Not proof read, unfinished? and I basically had this finished so I just went through some of it and decided to post it. Even though this isn't too long and might not make sense.

Word count = 1,144

Description: Your remarks make even Five confused sometimes but it's part of why he loves you.

As the sun shone through the window and past the open curtains you rolled over in your bed reaching out next to you. After not feeling anyone you open your eyes squinting at the light that was flooding into the room. You sit up rubbing the sleep from your eyes getting ready to open them again.

When you had opened them you slung your legs over the edge of the bed and grabbed your slippers. Once you had put your slippers on you planted your feet on the ground and pushed yourself up off the bed. Now standing you walk towards the closet to get ready for the day.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were now making your way to the kitchen to get a morning coffee and hopefully find the person that was missing from your bed when you woke up.

As you were walking down the stairs you saw Lila walking up them towards you. She smiled at you and started to talk "Fives in the kitchen making another pot of coffee."

You look at her questioningly with an amused grin on your face already knowing what she meant but decided to ask anyway. "What do you mean another pot?"

Her grin widened as she lifted a mug in her hand while saying "Diego isn't awake yet, and both me and him need our morning coffee." As she finishes her sentence you notice another mug in her other hand. "There was just enough for two cups, luckily."

You both chuckled a little before saying bye to each other walking the opposite ways again.

Now you knew that Five wouldn't be cheerful in the morning already but with Lila having taken Fives coffee you knew it would be easy to piss him off. You were already thinking of some way to distract Five from Lila so that he wouldn't be plotting revenge for the rest of the day.

When you walked into the kitchen you noticed Five hovering over the coffee pot mumbling something under his breath. You smile slightly realising that this is your chance to try and scare Five. Something that he had never given you any chance to do before and had actually said that you'd never be able to do.

As you snuck up behind him you got ready to say what you had planned in an effort to also distract him from what you were about to do as well.

When you were close enough to him you started talking relatively loud before wrapping your arms around him. "You know that if you lived for 70 years you'd have spent like 10 years of your life on Monday."

You felt Five jump slightly your smile grow wider at your successful attempt at scaring him even slightly. You let go of him and Five turned to face you. When you could finally see his face he looked confused and you smiled sweetly up at him.

You were looking at him innocently as if you hadn't just said something that you knew he had to think about. Then Five turned back around to the coffee pot and picked it up getting ready to pour coffee into his cup.

As he started to pour the coffee into his cup he spoke to you. "What do you mean by that?"

When he finished talking you started to clarify why you had brought it up. "Well think about it you're technically 58. So in 12 years you'll have lived 10 years of your life on a Monday."

You were looking up at him with a sweet smile on your face as you were talking. When you had finished talking he had filled his cup up with coffee.

When he went to place the coffee pot back in it's rightful place you quickly grabbed his cup and walked to the table. By the time that Five had realised that you had taken his cup you had already sat in one of the chairs and started to sip from the cup.

Five looked at you with a fed up look before sighing and turning back around. But you noticed his mouth turn into a slight smile just before he managed to fully turn around.

"Did you really have to take my coffee?" He said while going to take out another cup from the cupboard.

You watched his movements "Yep." You responded to him with a smile.

When he had grabbed another cup he turned back around to look at you before starting to talk again. "Even if that was correct wouldn't all the time travelling change that."

You thought for a second while drinking. "I mean... that would depend on if you time travelled perfectly then technically my point still stands" As you finished talking you were looking at him.

Five had grabbed the coffee pot once again and started to pour it into his new cup while he was looking right at you. He sighed before an adoring smile was brought to his face and he chuckled slightly before he responded. "Fair enough."

He placed the coffee pot back where he had just placed it a couple of minutes ago. He brought his cup to his lips and took a sip of the coffee before he started to walk towards you.

He smiled lovingly at you and sat in the chair next to yours before he started talking trying to continue the conversation. "So when I actually do turn 70 then I will have spent at least 10 years of my life on a Monday."

You looked at him excited. "'Exactly! See that's still interesting."

When you finished the sentence you laughed slightly while looking up at him. Meanwhile he just rolled his eyes at you while taking another sip of his coffee.

He looked into your eyes before starting to speak to you again. "So since you're so certain about that. Do you know how many years we will have been together in 12 years?" As he was finishing his sentence he leaned closer to you and smirked once again.

You leaned in closer to Five as well and closed your eyes confidently with a smile on your face. "Well actually it will have been about nineteen years since we first met and about fifteen years since we started dating."

Five smiled lovingly at you and leaned back slightly to take another slightly longer sip of his coffee. When he brought the cup back away from his lips, his smile still prominently glued to his face he started to lean back in towards you while placing his cup on the table beside him.

Once Five was a couple of inches away from you he spoke again. "Sorry but you're wrong there darling. " When he finished his sentence he chuckled slightly. "By then we would've met seventeen years ago and it would have been dating for fifteen years."

[dcxdpdabbles]

Will you expand on that, Reverse Robin, with Tim? I just found it!

I don't have too much plot for the Cuckoo in a Robin's Nest Au (the Name is a WIP) yet, so I can only write a dabble for you. For those wondering, this references the DC-only story I was thinking of writing. It can be found here.

Tim glances up as the bell on the door chimes. He knows who it is before he spots the head of dirty blond hair and the warm smile stretched against a freckled face.

Little Freddie rapidly became a regular after Tim set up a side table for him to comfortably eat and do his homework. Tim didn't know much about the kid besides the fact that he was being raised by a single father and had two older brothers. Apparently, the three were constantly working yet barely making ends meet leaving the small child to his own devices.

That wasn't an uncommon story around these parts. Not many employers were willing to hire anyone with a Crime Alley address, and those that did often only wanted to overwork them while underpaying them.

The fact that the boy still actively went to school during the day surprised the Crime Alley dwellers more. He was a School Kid, which meant something different to the people here. If Ex-Bat had to bet, Freddie's family put his future before theirs, since the boy won a scholarship to Gotham Academy.

He had to tell the boy to cover his uniform when walking home. He never knew who would mistake him for a rich kid and what they would do for a bit of quick cash in these parts.

Freddie now always came after school without his blazer and uniform shirt. He always changed in the bathrooms, throwing on a faded oversized band t-shirt and a baggy, run-down hoodie.

Even with his uniform pants, Freddie easily changed from a Gotham Academy School kid to a common Alley Crime Kid.

Tim himself had two part-time jobs, but they weren't enough to get him out of the city. He missed his resources like a missing limb, but he had survived with less before, and he could now.

The idea of creating any link between himself and the heroes made his skin crawl, even if it was to hack into the bank accounts he once had access to. Tim was already risking so much by moving through the city without documentation.

If he created a fake paper trail, he worried the Bats would pick up on it. Tim was done with them all. He died for them. They let him die.

He would never let them back in again.

That is why he chose to stay in Gotham.

It was one of the few places that didn't bat an eye at the fact that Alvin Draper only had his name and homeless shelter address. His apartment was a shed in someone's backyard, barely legal to count it as a rental space. It had a bathroom, a tiny sink, and a stove, but not much else.

It was the best he could find with what little he had to prove himself.

His big, mountain-of-muscle Russian landlord thought Tim was a runaway or rent boy because of how he talked, but he took the risk of letting him live there anyway. He at least felt safe when the man pulled out a receipt book to give him proof of payment, and after a vague confirmation that Tim wouldn't bring any trouble around the house.

He only cared that he could turn in his rent in cash and that if he needed to work odd hours, he should not make any noise past ten p.m. He also offered to care for any troublemakers who couldn't understand that Tim was only working if they followed him home.

It was oddly sweet how Crime Alley had both empathy and self-preservation deep in their bones for each other.

"Hi Alvin!" Freedie chips, throwing his scruffed-up backpack in the chair closest to the wall. He bounces in his seat, digging into the Pepperoni pizza Tim sets on the table for him. It's only three slices, but with his employee discount, it's less than a soda from a vending machine.

Tim wasn't sure how much Freddie's family was struggling, but he didn't mind providing the boy with a meal if he could.

"Hi Freddie," he answers warmly, pouring the boy some water. Since they were the only ones in the restaurant, he lingered near the table, placing his hands on his hips as he regarded the boy's appearance. Three weeks ago, he caught a bruise, concealed by makeup, near his neck, and has been hyper-aware of any reappearances since. "How was school?"

"It was pretty good. John tried to throw me in a locker, but I punched him in the nuts like you taught me before he could," the boy reveals with a proud puff of his chest. "His friends tried to grab me, but I swung my shoulder bags at them and they got scared."

Tim sniggers, pride pooling in his gut. His fake Crime Alley accent is rougher than normal, further disguising him. No one who heard him ever thought he was born with a silver tooth. "Good. Teach those prep losers not to mess with ruffians."

"It's important to be the bigger man," Tim confirms, refilling the boy's cup after he chugs it nearly all in one drink. "It's also important to defend yourself before things escalate."

Freddie's smile is crooked with both a mischievous nature and the edge of barely concealed violence. "My Dad and brothers think I shouldn't let them get under my skin."

Freddie is silent momentarily before carefully offering, "My second-oldest brother used to say that, too."

Tim doesn't know what happened to the second oldest, but he has noticed that Freedie always speaks of him in the past tense. This was another common thing in Crime Alley.

People died all the time, and everyone who called this hell-hole home had personally experienced loss at least once before turning eighteen.

"Your brother had the right idea." He settles on grinning at the boy. Freedie's blue eyes are searching, tracing over Tim's face as if searching for a lie, but the door chimes again, and he has to turn away to greet the new customers before he can ask what the boy is searching for.

He offers Freedie a slight nod while returning to the cashier. He pretends he doesn't notice how the twelve-year-old pulls out his homework after finishing his pizza slices. More specifically, he ignores how the boy occasionally attempts to take his picture between math questions.

It's cute how hard he tried to be sneaky about it and how his frustration grew with each failed attempt. Tim was having far too much fun carefully dodging his camera, making sure to move in a way that made it appear like an accident that his face was never captured correctly.

It reminded Tim of himself when he was twelve. Ah, memories.

[lynnie-ee]

Inktober Day 2; Cupid.

╰┈➤"Sometimes people need help to gather the courage to confess to someone...And they surely know how to encourage it. After all, who wouldn't help their sibling or son get the love of the Ramshackle Prefect?."

╰► Gender-neutral reader, scenarios, 1.9k words in total.

╰► Characters: Jade, Floyd, Lilia.

╰►Note: The prompts are based on words I found interesting and then I put them on a roulette to decide when I would write about them, lol. English is not my first language, so please let me know if there are any grammatical mistakes <3. Not proof read, I haven't written in a long time, so I apologise if anything is out of character.

╰►Masterlist / Inktober Masterlist.

⤿

⤿

﹙𖧵ֹֺֽ໋໋݊﹚Jade Leech ❜ ˖ ࣪⊹ ִֶָ

The words “scary” and “unnerving" could be the first thing to come to your mind when you think about Jade, especially now.

You had become more attached to Floyd in the past few months thanks to Ace, as the Octavinelle second-year attended the same club as your friend, which led you to visit him a few times at Mostro Lounge, encountering Jade in the process sometimes.

At first, it was casual, a single greeting when he passed beside the prefect, that’s it.

But then, Jade noticed how unusually excited his brother seemed to be, even more than usual, and he quickly figured out what he was up to.

Jade was delighted to see his brother in good moods more frequently now, knowing that, for once, he seemed committed to dedicating time to the little Shrimpy, as Floyd called you. However, were his brother’s feelings reciprocated? Were you honest with him? Jade would never allow a magicless human to make fun of his brother, even if Floyd was more than capable of deciding that by himself.

So, one evening, as you were looking for his twin, he decided to test your intentions.

⤿

“Good evening, Prefect.”

“Ah, Jade!” The Ramshackle student replied startled, as the vicehousewarden appeared suddenly behind them, out of nowhere. Well, they were in the middle of the Mostro Lounge, so it was expected for Jade to be around, just not that close. “I was looking for Floyd.”

“I thought you’d be here for him. Then, follow me, if you will.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to wait here for him? He usually-“

“Hm, I guess my assumptions about you were wrong if you rejected my offer to see my brother.”

“Assumptions?” They questioned, tilting their head to emphasize their curiosity.

“Would you like me to talk about it here? Where so many people can hear?” The second-year questioned, a trace of amusement in his voice.

“A quiet place would be better, yeah.” (Y/n) replied quickly, sensing the direction of their conversation, this time following Jade to the back of the Mostro Lounge without complaining.

“You have feelings for my brother.” Stated the merman, as soon as they reached a secluded corner, startling (Y/n) with the bluntness of his words.

“What…what takes you to that conclusion?” The prefect questioned nervously, punching themselves mentally for their lack of confidence, a death sentence in front of a Leech twin.

“You have spent a significant amount of time here lately. Sometimes you don’t even order anything, looking content just by staying at the tables to talk to my brother. Humans can be quite predictable sometimes, with that red tone on your cheeks every time Floyd is near, you don’t fool anyone, Prefect.”

“I don’t-“

“You don’t?” Jade remarked immediately, a sly grin on his face, as he looked the Prefect more closely as he spoke. “Perhaps, then, I misunderstood the situation. Could it be that instead of being interested in my brother, you were looking forward to seeing me?” He added, his face now mere inches away from the magicless human.

Close enough for him to use Shock the Heart, now that (Y/n) was distracted-

“You’re incorrect, in that one." The Ramshackle student corrected, slowly trying to sound more confident. “But you were correct earlier. I do like your brother, is there a problem with that?” They blurted out before they could regret it.

Jade smiled even more widely, if that was even possible. This action scared the Prefect even more, if that was even possible.

“Shrimpy, what did you just say? Why are you here with Jade? I’ve looked for you everywhereeee.” Floyd's pouting voice interrupted their conversation, his figure soon appearing in the middle of them.

“How long have you been there?!” The magicless student asked trying to mask their embarrassment.

“Enough to know you like me! C’mon Shrimpy, you’ve let me alone for too long.” Floyd whined, swiftly taking the Prefect between his arms to drag them outside Mostro Lounge.

“Fufu~Seems like Shock the Heart wasn’t necessary after all.”

⤿

⤿

﹙𖧵ֹֺֽ໋໋݊﹚Floyd Leech ❜ ˖ ࣪⊹ ִֶָ

He’s ecstatic, to say the least.

You started to see his brother more frequently after he offered you a free meal (it was one of his mushroom dishes. He used you as a lab rat, but you didn’t need to know that), which surprisingly, you liked. And then, you asked him where he got the ingredients, allowing Jade to talk for hours.

Floyd always found you interesting, but enduring Jade talking about the different types of mushrooms that could be found in Sage Island for hours? You were a tough one.

Then, Jade started to invite you to hikes frequently. And you spent time at Mostro Lounge. And you spent time at Octavinelle. And you talked to his brother in between classes.

And then, one day after he came back to his dorm after his club, he found you in their shared room as Jade showed you his collection of terrariums, and was the sign Floyd needed to know that Jade was being serious about this.

It seemed like the two of you were starting to fall for each other, which was cool and all that, but…that took too long. It was boring. Whether you were with his brother or not, it was simple.

⤿

“Ya like Jade, don’t you?” Floyd mentioned one day, as both of you walked towards the cafeteria. (Y/n) had decided to accompany Ace to the basketball club, and in the middle of it, Floyd asked them to join him to buy water at the cafeteria. Terrible choice.

“What…what did you say?” The Prefect quickly questioned, wondering if they heard something wrong.

“Yer in love with my brother or something like that?”

“What are you even saying? Haha, I think you’re misunderstanding something here…” They replied trying to look nonchalant, failing miserably as their nervous expression betrayed them immediately.

“You listened to his mushroom talk, you’re not gonna fool me into believing you did it without liking him.”

“Floyd, I-“

“You should confess. Get over it quickly.”

“Sorry? I don’t think I’m ready for-“

“What are you? A coward? Do you think my brother will say no?”

“…Maybe he will.” (Y/n) mumbled after a few seconds, as they saw there was no reason to deny their feelings, as Floyd seemed to have figured out already.

“He showed his terrarium collection, he’s gonna say yes.”

“He has shown them to other people too, you know?”

“Not the ones from his room.” Floyd replied with an obvious expression. “Just do it, Shrimpy.”

“It’s not that easy, Floyd, I’m afraid.” They confessed, sighing.

“I’d say it’s very easy, actually. Look, Jade’s there.” Pointed the second year suddenly, making the Prefect look towards the other side of the hallway, where the vicehousewarden walked calmly. “Hey, Jade, Shrimpy here wants to tell you something!” He called loudly, promptly pushing the magicless student towards his brother.

“Having Shrimpy as a sibling-in-law will be so funny~.”

⤿

⤿

﹙⚔﹚Lilia Vanrouge ❜ ˖ ࣪⊹ ִֶָ

He’s not subtle. Like, at all.

Now, don’t be mistaken; he’d never reveal Silver’s feelings to you. He knows how to guard his son’s privacy. However, that doesn’t stop him from pointing Silver’s strong traits to you, every single time he can.

It starts small, as you both walk around the halls, passing outside the gym. Did you know physical training was Silver’s best subject? No? How strange, he thought it was nice for you to know.

Then you both greet Riddle on your way to class. He’s in the same club as Silver, you know? He’s very good a it, after all, he has such a nice physical condition, he could carry you easily if you ask him. Why would Silver carry you? No reason in particular, it was just an example, similar to the people that carry their partners, which is just another example, don’t worry.

Until that, you had just answered by nodding at his words, thinking that perhaps Lilia just held Silver in high regard, but then you decided to agree to the compliments.

⤿

“How have you been doing in Magical Analysis? Is it too difficult for you?” Lilia asked you one day, as you both drank tea (that you offered to prepare) in the middle of the Diasomnia lounge.

“A little bit, considering that I’m magicless and all that.” Replied the Prefect without much worry.

“That’s a pity. Perhaps Silver could tutor you? He did great in his first year in the subject, in his first test he scored a-“

“Isn’t Sebek like very good at Magical Analysis? I’ve considered asking him for help but perhaps if you tell him he’d be more open to help.”

“…Maybe, he will. However, Silver is very good at teaching, I’m sure he’ll be delighted to be able to help you.”

“I don’t doubt it, after all, he’s very kind.” (Y/n) commented, sipping on their tea.

“Oh, so you think he’s kind?” The Diasomnia vicehousewarden asked, a big smile on his expression.

“…Yeah, that was what I just said.”

“What else?”

“About what?”

“About Silver, what do you think of him?”

“Well…He’s a very nice friend, easy-going, and calm. He’s one of the few people that seem normal, among all the crazy students here.” The Prefect replied honestly.

“Indeed, he’s very charming, don’t you think? Although I don’t see you often around him, I didn’t know you were friends.”

“Usually, we don’t see each other in school. But lately, we’ve talked quite a lot at night. Sometimes, he goes looking for Malleus at my dorm and we stay chatting for a while.”

“Just that?”

“Uhm, we also hang out sometimes after class, he asks me to talk to him when he gets sleepy in the afternoon. Or sometimes he invites me to help him to take care of the little animals that usually follow him.”

“Oooh~I see.” He smiled mischievously. “You talk very fondly of him, dear. Are you sure you two are just friends?”

“Of course, Lilia.” The magicless student replied quickly, chuckling.

“Are you 100% sure?” He questioned again; this time more insistent.

The Prefect remained quiet for a few seconds, surprising themselves when they felt the heat rushing to their cheeks when they thought of Silver, as handsome and gentle as he was.

‘Could it be…?'

“Cat got your tongue, Prefect?”

“No, Lilia, I was just thinking…”

“You can tell me, dear, I swear I won’t tell anyone.”

“Well, it’s just that I…I don’t know if I see him just as a friend.”

“Oh ~ tell me more.”

“Silver has been so attentive and sweet with me…It’d be hard for me not to develop feelings for him, you know?” They mumbled, shyly.

“Of course! Love appears naturally, it’s normal for you to notice until now.” Lilia replied, an overjoyed expression adorning his features. “But it can’t slip away if you don’t do anything about it, Prefect. Perhaps you should be honest with him.”

“You think?”

“I know Silver very well; he’ll listen to you and he’ll know you have good intentions.”

“You may be right, Lilia. I have to go, if you excuse me, I think he’s about to finish his club practice.”

“Good luck, Prefect, I trust you’ll do well.”

Lilia chuckled softly as he saw the Prefect leaving the dorm with a nervous expression but with so much fondness towards his son.

“Ah, young love, always a delight to see.”

⤿

⤿

[barbies1shots]

part3 of toxic!sukuna , prt1 , prt2

this one is kinda freaky..

not proof read

@hazzelle-kento for the idea !! thank you😉 this might turn into a series ..

☆- predator/pray dynamics , size kink , overstim (cant help myself) , stalking , fem!waitress!reader, batshit crazy!sukuna, slight misogyny , degradation, non-con>dub-con , possessive themes , body shaming , hair pulling , name calling , unprotected secs (wrap your willy pls)

thinking about toxic!sukuna and his inability to keep you off his mind. the way you cuss him out because he didn't put up dishes like you asked. or the way you stare him down when he doesn't take his shoes off before entering the house.

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who denies that you actually want to break up with him. who said you couldnt break up with him.

why would you break up with him when he didn't do anything?

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who is just so unaware of the toxic things he did. restricting what you wear and who you go out with. lashing out at you when he asked a simple question. brushing you off when he came back late and smelled like alcohol.

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who told you a top looks horrible on you. that it wasn't your color, and it was too tight, making you look fat. all because he wanted you to change.

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who heard your sniffles from the other room but wanted to hear more of them. just because he's mean

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who is in denial and in complete confusion when you put a restraining order on him

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who claims he never put any hands on you.

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who quite literally has internal conflicts on what to do. leave you alone, let you have your space youve been complaining about or come pounding on your door and fuck you to sleep.

thinking about toxic!sukuna who wouldn't respect any boundaries you've made and would invade your personal space.

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who would contact you even when you blocked him on everything. instagram, SMS, twitter, tiktok, snapchat, facebook, google chat, EMAIL, yet the man still finds a way to messsge you.

' you still mad ? '

thinking about toxic!sukuna who doesn't care about your feelings at all. about how he only wants you for your mind- or for your body.

thinking about toxic!sukuna would try and corner you on your way back from a third shift at your work.

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who literally dreams about chasing you and making you love him again.

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who tries to explain that he's right wrong and that he only wants you.

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who wants to be in every part of your mind. he wants to corrupt you, break you in, and make you maleable. just for him and his dirty pleasures.

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who succeeds in his dreams of chasing you.

why would you ever want to run from him?

thinking about toxic!sukuna, who chased you down the alleyway with you screaming at him to leave you alone.

☆

"get the hell away from me, you damn psychopath! youre fucking crazy! you stalk me, message me, call me- i dont want anything to do with you, Ryomen!" the sounds of your shrill voice bounce off the dry walls on either side of you.

he followed you from your work to the little 'short-cut' home, and now he got you cornered in a deadend. you had black wedges and a skirt on- courtesy of your uniform regulations.

of course, he knew where you worked, why wouldnt he?

"come back baby, you know better." he snickered. his taller form was hiding by the darkness of the alleyway as it was well past 11PM.

you shuffled through your purse in search of something to defend yourself. pepper spray, a pocket knife, maybe keys. but came up empty.

why would you need to defend yourself anyway?

it sounded like his footsteps got closer as your movements were more frantic in trying to find something to fight Ryomen off with. you hand came in contact with your phone, and you raised it above your head before looking up and straight into the eyes of the devil himself.

"what are you looking for-" he asked in your face, his breath washed over you. as your nerves spiked, you threw your hand down so your phone came in contact with his forhead. "argh- you stupid cunt!" he grunted out as his face contorted in straight fury and disbelief.

did you... just strike him?

you stomped on his foot with your heel, and you earned another pained groan. you immediately went around him to run off, run into someone to help you, run into the light- something. you ran, your wedges rendering your full ability to move, but you had to make due.

your phone layed cracked at the back of the alleyway but atleast you had your purse? the entrance of the alleyway came closer than before, and you made it about 2 full steps into the light of the streetlight before a rough hand pulled you back by the hair.

"no- no, oh my damn, let go, Ryomen!" you screamed in frustration. his other hand came in, covered your mouth before taking your struggling body and pushing you against the wall.

why would he let you go when he just got you back?

he held you there, his face red and burning by the way you swung at him without hesitation. his eyes didnt lie, and they were filled with hatred but longing.

"youre mine, im not letting you go." he growled into your face after his let his stinging grip away from your hair. his hand ran down his face and he sighed loudly, "you are just as predictable as any other woman." he looked bored.

"you hit me, step on my foot, and then try to run?" he asked. your eyes stung when he pressed your head harder into the concrete wall.

"sounds like you need to lean your place again, yeah?" he concluded.

his hand moved from covering your mouth to grabbing your chin roughly and forcing you to look at him. "been out of check for a while. ignoring me, blocking me, avoiding me, wanting to take a break from me? i think you have lost your mind, baby" he said as his fingers forced their way more into your skin.

"leave me alone-!" you tried to say before he pushed you roughly on the ground, you hit your tail bone, and he came in between your distraught legs and leaning over you. his rough hands came in contact with your body, tugging and pulling on your clothes. he ripped your blouse, and the bottons popped everywhere. he flipped uo your skirt so the waist band was up your tummy.

why would he leave you alone when you just look edible.

"ryomen- i asked you for a break for a reason!" you screamed at him as you tried to cover your body. you tried to grasp the last bits of your dignity, but as soon as he cupped your cunt through your underwear, it was left for good.

why would you ever want a break from him..?

the chase from the back of the alleyway and the adrenaline from him holding you against the wall made you wet. it turned you on that he was willing to chase and catch you.

he smirked as he slid your underwear to the left and slid a thick finger in between your soaked fold before finding your clit and pressing harshly into the little nub.

"uhh-" you groaned at the feeling, he went hard and rough, not caring if it didnt hurt or not. you squirmed as your hips jerked and tried to scoot away from the stimulation.

he put his other hand on your hip, pulling you close as his fingers dipped lower and probbed at your entrance. "youre about to be in for a ride, you little bitch." he growled and forced his two dry fingers into your cunt, immediately finding your g-spot and abusing it.

your back arched as your thighs came up to your chest and closed around his arm, "Ryomen- please! I cant do this.." you whined out as your hips grinded against his fingers.

he smirked over you as you whined and arched your back, "cmon' cunt- cum for me" he demanded. he pressed a thumb into your clit, rubbing it as he fucking your cunt wet.

as you were recovering from one of your intense orgasams, he looked over you. his eyes drifted from your blissed out face to your shivering torso to your trembling thighs and hips. he licked your liquids from his fingers and slotted himself between your thighs.

why would you ever leave him when he is just perfect for you?

"time for the main event, yeah baby?" he snickered and started unbuckling his pants, unzipping them and pulling his underwear under his ballsack. he grabbed your calf and held it up by his head as he leaned in and stuffed his face into your sweaty neck.

his large mushroom tip nudged your entrance, and you tensed up as he started to push in. he was reforming your insides just to match around him, "cmon, whore... take it all.." ryomen groaned into your neck. he resisted the urge to bite into you as he listened to your sobs.

he raised back on his haunches when he bottomed out and quickly set a rough pace. your pleas and little whines only egging him further the more your worked up.

he let go of your leg to rest on his shoulder and started to grope your tits, kneeding them in one hand while tweaking one in another.

"youre being rough, ryomen! ugh- be gentle.." you whimpered. he shook his hand as he smirked and started to actually plunge into you. thrusting his hips and pulling you back by your tits as leverage.

plap! plap! plap! was the wet sounds of his balls hitting your ass.

he only sped up as he got lost in the pleasure, chasing his and fucking you complete stupid. your neck stretched as you felt another orgasm take over you and your mind felt blank. only thinking about ryomen, ryomen, dick, dick, ryomen.

he saw your face and shook his head and took one hand from your tits to the front of your head and forced your head to look at where hes fucking you open at. your back in an awkward yet painful position as you started to groan.

"you can't escape me, your morsel. you belong to me! i will kill you before you ever get any other thoughts of trying to leave me again. I control you. You are mine."

left unfinished cs ive gotten lazy and unmotivated. let me know what you think !!

toxic!sukuna part 1

toxic!sukuna part 2

revenge on toxic!sukuna

@aizawasbarb

[sailorgundam308]

Karlach isn't a good girl

Listen, LISTEN. I love her, okay? Now that's out of the way. I see many people reducing her personality to the "big friendly labrador dog" thing. And while it's cute and all that, I disagree. Let me get into why I think Karlach isn't the goodie nice girl she puts a lot of effort to be. She has just returned to Faerun when we meet her in game, and she IS trying her bestest to start anew, to be the best version of herself now that she is free. But it doesn't mean she was always like that, or that her past has not changed her. I think it did - quite a lot, in fact.

Let's start with Gortash. She worked for this fucker. Granted, she might not have known he was such an evil bastard at the time, but she was his bodyguard. And by bodyguard, it is implied that she was his bully, his enforcer and debt collector - you know, the kind that breaks knees and kills people. When she meets an old friend in the city, that friend asks her if she is still in "the business of intimidation", and offers her to come see weapons. Even though Karlach, in her mind, might have been convincing herself that doing such a job was to help someone she respected, she still did it. And that is FINE. She was a young orphan, a tiefling in a place where tieflings are discriminated against harshly, poor and without much perspective. Of course a guy coming over offering her a well paid job that she excelled in would seem like winning a lottery. Still, she was a pretty shady violent person doing it. Now, the Hells. Avernus. She was sold to Zariel quite young still, and went through all sorts of torture and other perks enslavement gets you. For 10 years. She was scared shitless while there, especially in the beginning - she says so herself (to Halsin). All the carnage she inflicted was not (very) voluntary. She HAD to, or she would be the one getting killed. But she enjoyed it - or grew to. She likes violence, the adrenaline of it, the rush of excitement. The thrill of it, she says, is second only to sex.

Continuing on. Avernus, as well as the other layers of the Nine Hells, is not like the Material Plane. The place itself influences you. It means that being in Avernus for any time changes/corrupts/influences who you are. The longer you stay there, the deeper it gets. It did so to Zariel who was a literal angel. Avernus (and it's Archdevil's personality) insidiously get in your body and heart. It is just the way it goes, lore-wise, in DnD. If a fucking SOLAR wasn't immune to it, Karlach - young and lost - certainly wouldn't be either. Even more so because she was near Zariel all the time. I strongly believe Karlach was getting more and more exactly like Zariel - who herself is a fierce berserker warrior who charges head first into battle. Zariel is KNOWN to be this crazy strong, insane, fearless and (in her mind) righteous demon-smiting war machine. Sounds similar to a nice red tiefling we know, doesn't it? Now, did Zariel chose Karlach beause she was already like this, or did Karlach took after Zariel while she fought with her? Hard to tell. In any case, Karlach's 10 years in the Hells did change her. Needless to say, Avernus doesn't change you for the better. It doesn't mean that Karlach became "evil" - she is obviously far from it. But she is chaotic, violent and bloodthirsty. She is also selfish. There are several situations where this personality trait of her comes up.

It may sound kinda wild considering how she offers to help everyone and even sacrifice herself (since she's already dying anyway) - when we meet her. But that's the thing: she is being as selfless as she can now because she has been very selfish for a very long time (proof she has a conscience). Perhaps, she is terrified of what she was becoming and is trying to make amends, to revert whatever evil was growing in her.

She mentions herself that she did not help the tieflings of Elturel when their city was pulled down into Avernus. She did not get out of her way to help them. Instead, she thought that if "she was living that nightmare, they'd have to live it too". She would not put her neck on the line to help another - which, not so coincidentally, is typical behavior in the Hells (again, proof that Avernus was indeed getting to her). The Hag's Vicious Mockery targeted specifically at Karlach mentions how she is willing to "sell everyone's soul's if it means she can save hers". We do not know exactly what it refers to - soul coins, throwing others under the bus, ignoring people in need - but it reinforces the idea that Karlach was not the nicest person for at least 12+ years. Granted, the devils around her were much worse - but they are DEVILS in HELL. So.

Generally, in game we notice that her effort to survive and stay alive has pushed her selfishness to grow. But it still is selfishness. Another example is how she disapproves (together with Astarion), if you say to healer Nettie that you "swear to drink the Wyvern poison". She wouldn't drink it. She'd rather kill Nettie (that gets hostile).

Another hint at her grey-ish personality is when she talks to/about Wyll after he is punished by Mizora for not having killed Karlach. She mentions that she would NOT have done the same in his place. That he was better than her. Again, she would not put her skin on the line like that. She would and has turned a blind eye to situations and persons if it meant it would guarantee her survival or avoid injury. (Mind you, I 100% belive she would do this sacrifice if she was in love with someone, though.)

She will ask to, and will use Soul Coins even though she knows it's morally a sus choice to do so. If you play as her she will repeat to herself "I won't use them, they are people's souls - and I am GOOD." like she is trying to convince herself. Because she would fucking use them to smash some big fuckers in a blink - and feel awesome while doing it. Even as her, she keeps insisting "But... maybe I can use them... JUST when I really need them." Additionally, when she talks to the bugbear merchant in Moonrise Towers and he offers her soul coins, she doesn't really feel guilty for the stories of the souls in them. She even says at some point "they are already doomed, so why not use them anyway", justifying that she will only kill evil bastards with them. In any case, the morality of her choice is debatable. It makes clear that Karlach is not "lawful good" by any stretch.

Let me reiterate that just because I am saying all this about Karlach, doesn't mean I dislike her. I think she is abso-fucking-lutely the best character in the game. But I hate to see her personality "flattened" to nice happy go lucky gal. I think she has a grey-tinged personality - she has good and bad aspects to herself; she has character flaws too.

But I also think that she is trying her damn hardest to be the best she can be right then. The opposite of what she's been. Maybe it is because she has so little time left, that she needs to be the absolute best version of herself while she can. Perhaps she is trying to be what she would have been if her parents did not die - because they seemed like great loving parents. And I think Karlach didn't turn into a broken evil maniac because of them, the way they raised her while they were alive. But she lost her mom at 6, her father around 13-15. After that, it was struggling on the streets, Gortash and Zariel - betrayal, violence, carnage, war and loneliness. It is too naive to think a person would not change after all this, that Karlach would not carry more scars than those she shows on her body. To her credit, she turned much MUCH better than anyone would have. She WILL kill with a grin on her face, seek violence, blood and even revel in it - she learned to relish it and now it's part of who she is. She is selfish, she will look out for herself and has no qualms about killing or throwing people she doesn't care for under the bus (if she sees justification for it). BUT she knows what evil is, and doesn't let shit happen to people who don't deserve it. She will side with those who suffer prejudice and fight against what she sees as injustice - but even she has a limit to how far she'd go.

If you raid the Emerald Grove, she will leave the party. To me, this screams of her trying to right her past wrongs. She left the Elturians to their fate once before, so she MUST save them now that she has another chance - and that it won't cost her her life. I love her being 1/3 brutal killing machine (and fucking LOVING it), 1/3 ptsd, fear and overcompensating trauma under a smile, and 1/3 just trying her best, really, and being lovely for it. Phew. That was a long rant. I guess I just wanted to organize my thoughts about it a bit :V

[lightsovermonaco]

an: requests and comments always welcome!

wc: 1250

Summary: Pato surprises you by coming home for your anniversary. Fluff with a slight bit of suggestiveness at the end.

One full year. One full year of dating the most thoughtful, obnoxious, beautiful, annoying soul of a man. Three hundred and sixty five days of weird faces, suggestive Snapchat captions, and random phone calls. There's been less drama and more love than you could've ever dreamed. 

You wouldn't trade the past twelve months for anything in the world. 

Dating Pato hasn't been all puppies and rainbows- although Norbi had joined the two of you on a picnic once and you had seen multiple full rainbows. There's challenges, most of which stem from the constant distance and busy schedules. But one way or another, Pato always finds a way to make you feel like he's only in the next room instead of a few states away. 

Whether it be sending you flowers after you've ranted over text or facetiming you for thirty seconds to wish you a good morning, Pato does what he can. Sometimes it's overwhelming to have him away from home so long. There's days where you aren't sure how much longer you can go without holding him in your arms or feeling his stubbly cheeks beneath your fingertips. Pato must have a sixth sense for those things however, because he always seems to know and always gives you a little more love on the rough days. 

Tonight though, you've got the man all to yourself. The lottery drew your number.  You don't know what sacrifice he's made to the scheduling gods, but he's managed to come home for your anniversary just two days before a race. And the worst part? Pato hadn't given you any warning. You'd opened the door in your pajamas, expecting your door dash order instead of the whole package. 

Once you'd attacked him and thoroughly smattered his face with kisses, you'd worked up the courage to ask how long he'd be home. 

“It's only eight hours, I have a plane later tonight to catch back to Milwaukee. But I figured a few hours is better than seeing your face on a screen.” 

“It's so much better Pato,” you murmur and steal another kiss. You can't help it; you're addicted to him and have been in withdrawal for far too long. “I missed you so fucking much.” 

“Trust me, I missed you more.” Pato nudges your jaw with his nose. You understand his request and tip your head to give him full access to your neck, letting any thoughts of that very important work project that had to be finished this week float away on the breeze. 

If you only had eight hours with your man, you were going to make the most of them. 

“Upstairs,” you breathe, fingers tangling in his freshly styled hair. “Now, Pato.”

“Ma'am yes ma'am.”

**********

After spending a few hours wrapped up in each other, Pato had finally convinced you to go out to lunch with him. He'd picked your dress, a burnt orange satin number with thin straps and a slit up the leg that nearly went to your hip.

With Pato dressed in a charcoal quarter zip that's shamefully unzipped and his hair fluffed just how you like it, it's a miracle you've made it through the first course without jumping him. Because with that much of his neck on display and the proof of your earlier fun poking out from under the collar, it's taking every ounce of willpower to keep from dragging him out of this fancy restaurant and begging him to put some marks of his own on you. 

"My eyes are up here hermosa." 

"Hmm? Oh- no I know Pato, sorry! I just got distracted." Pato shifts to allow more skin to show. His smirk tells you he knows exactly what he's doing.

“I seem to distract you a lot don't I? Like before when I got home and you were working on that project…” Pato swipes his index finger through the pasta sauce on his plate and licks it clean. Thoughts swirl in your head like mist, though the only one that materializes is the memory of where those fingers had been an hour ago.

“Uh… sure…” 

“Not doing yourself much justice here, are you?” Pato tips his head, brown eyes warm and sparkling. “Good thing you're cute- you're not a very good conversation partner when your head is up on mars.”

“Well maybe if you wouldn't be so hot all the time,” you mumble, spearing pasta on your fork. “It would make my life a lot easier. Then maybe I could get through a meal without losing my train of thought.”

Pato's cute little dimples are on full display when he smiles. Your stomach does flips as if you're back in high school sitting across from your crush. It's crazy how he still has that effect on you now. You'd once worried that the spark would fade and you'd get bored of each other. Now though, you're positive that it's still as alive and hot as the day you met. 

“We both know you don't mean that. These,” Pato taps one of the bruises on his neck, “are proof that you love me just how I am.”

“Yeah well, all I'm saying is once in a while you could show me some mercy, you know? You c-could-” you stutter when Pato's hand meets your knee. Hidden under the table and exposed by the slit in your dress, his thumb moves over your smooth skin whilst his eyes remain trained on you. 

“Hermosa? Everything alright?” Pato smiles sweetly as his hand slides halfway up your thigh. Now you know why he asked for the tiniest table tucked away in the corner. Considering Pato's smug grin, his public torture is having the desired effect. 

“I'm- I'm fine Pato. Perfectly fine.” You clear your throat and shift in your seat so that you're out of his reach. For a split second, you feel guilty when Pato frowns. But instead of giving up, he ups the ante. Pato simply moves his own chair so that he can replace his hand exactly where it was. You should've known he wouldn't let you get away so easily; Pato isn't one to be deterred. 

“Actually,” you purr, laying your hand on his arm, “it would be better if you could let me finish eating in peace.”

“Mmm let me think about it.” Pato drums His fingers on your thigh and purses his lips. You both know the answer before the, “no,” leaves his lips. 

You huff and curl your fingers so your nails dig into his sweater. “This isn't fair Pato. I can't do anything to you, and you're set on torturing me.”

“I think the solution is simple.” When you stare at him blankly, Pato shrugs. “Finish your meal. The quicker you finish eating, the quicker we can get home, yeah?” Pato's wink is accompanied by a dip of his hand between your thighs, there and gone. As quick as it is, his touch is still enough to leave you scrambled. 

“Just pay the bill. I'm done eating.”

“But I ordered dessert-” 

“And I’ll be the dessert as long as you get me home in the next twenty minutes.” a mischievous glint dances in Pato’s eyes. His hand stays exactly where it is whilst the server retrieves the tab. Pato takes one look at it and leaves cash on the table, not bothering with change. 

Pato makes it home with three minutes to spare, and as promised, makes you his dessert. 

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

What do you think/feel about Marinette's parents? I have read fics where they are good people but neflectul parents due to priorizing the bakery, but there also is a bit of salt making them outright bad parents (though not at Gabriel, Audrey nor André's levels) thinking the worst from Marinette.

I think this comes from how Tom, Sabine or both reacts in some chapters: Rogercop has Tom doing nothing at all; Ladybug has both of them not exactly supporting their daugther (until the end). Plus, all the situation regarding Chloe's bullying and their apparent lack of intervention.

In a recent post, I said that I could take almost any character and

pull up an episode that establishes A only to follow it with a later episode that completely ignores A without any real logic to back the change.

Tom and Sabine are not safe from this rule. They may be minor characters, but canon is still happy to yank them around based on what the episode needs. To show you what I mean, let's look Qilin and see how Sabine is written. The episode starts with Sabine doing a bunch of random things like putting a laundry basket at the bottom of the stairs and setting out a sponge.

As the scene progresses, we learn that these actions were all done because she knew her daughter so well that she could predict what Marinette would do when she woke up. For example, Sabine placed the laundry basket on the bottom of the stairs so that Marinette's fall would be cushioned because she knew Marinette was going to trip down the stairs.

This paints Sabine as a good mom who knows her daughter incredibly well. And yet, in Adoration, that characterization goes out the window. Chloé accuses Marinette of stealing a bunch of random items to help make a dress:

Chloé: An akumatized villain? (laughs) And where is this "invisible" akumatized thief? Besides, why would this hypothetical villain use YOUR bag to stash things that, (takes Marinette's sketchbook and starts browsing it) wouldn't you know, look conveniently just like the elements you need for... your dress?? (shoves Marinette's sketch to her face) Which looks utterly ridiculous, by the way. Marinette: What are you talking about? Chloé: Here's proof: these doilies have the initials "TS" on them. You think they stand for Thick Simpleton? No! They stand for Tom and Sabine! Because they come from the Dupain-Cheng bakery, don't they?! (Tom and Sabine nod) See? Her own parents are accusing her, (Marinette facepalms at the back) and they're right! Oh! Look what else I just found! (pulls out Anarka's flag)

And Tom and Sabine's reaction is to believe these accusations.

Denis Damoclès: Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I'm so disappointed in you. Even though we're only a few days away from the end of the school year, all this evidence leaves me no choice but to expel you from school. (Sabine sobs, burying her head in Tom's chest.) Tom: Marinette... what's happened to you?

This makes no sense. If Sabine is as smart and tuned in to her daughter as Qilin implied, then she should have immediately called Chloé out on her obvious lies. Not only should Sabine immediately be suspicious of the situation because she knows that Chloé has bullied Marinette in the past, but Sabine should know that the items Marinette "stole" are not suited to making a dress! What the heck would Marinette do with doilies? Why would she even need to steal them and cart them around town? She lives above the bakery! She could just sneak down and taken them and that's not even getting into the issue that her parents would probably have just given her these items.

Another great example is Sabine's connection to China. This isn't one I can talk to too deeply, but even my surface-level understanding of the topic can see that something is off. Most of the show gives the impression that Sabine has not maintained strong ties to her heritage to the point that one could reasonably assume she was raised in Europe. Then we got the Shanghai special and learned that Sabine is a first generation immigrant who was raised in China for a good chunk of her life. We also got Qilin which randomly paints her as very tied to her culture so how the heck is Marinette so divorced from it? This applies to even the most basic stuff like how has Marinette never met her great uncle before if he's basically desperate to be close to Marinette and Sabine has a good relationship with him? And Sabine has a sister in London??? That means Marinette has relatively close Chinese family once again begging why Marinette knows nothing about her maternal family. None of this makes sense! How did Marinette end up feeling so purely French? (Also, why are Marinette's uncle and Master Fu both named Wang? That just feels lazy.)

The lack of thought in Adrien's backstory is glaring, but Marinette's really isn't any better. You can tell that she sprang to life at 13 and the writers didn't think further than that even though you really need to when you're doing more complex family dynamics. Sabine needed just as much development as Emilie and Gabriel if the writers wanted Marinette to feel like a real person.

All of these issues make this yet another case where there's not a definitive right way to write these characters. I think that Tom and Sabine are supposed to be good parents and I'll give you my logic for why I think that's the "truest" way to write them, but as always, I'm not going to say that the salt has no backing in the text. Miraculous is a god damn salt mine.

When figuring out what canon is trying (and often failing) to do with Tom and Sabine, I don't look to them. I look to Marinette. She's shown to be generally comfortable with her parents and has no issues asking for the things she wants as we see in Qilin:

Marinette: (spots the magazine on the table) Oh, Mom! My shoes are getting too small. Do you think you could buy me a new pair? Sabine: What a good idea, honey! Why don't you meet me right after my painting class? Marinette: Oh! Let's get some dimsum for lunch before we go to the store! Sabine: Of course!

And Animaestro:

Marinette: (gasps) Me, me, me! I can totally help you out with that. (drops plates in excitement) Tom: (catches plates) You mean, as a server? Marinette: Yes. I'll hand the macarons out to Adrien. I mean... (drops plates and knocks over fruit bowl before managing to balance the bowl on top of the plates with a banana and two oranges.) ...to everybody, of course. Not just Adrien 'cause Adrien's not the only one who likes macarons. Sabine: (teasingly) And the fact that Adrien is going to be there has nothing with it, of course. Marinette: Not a thing. Like, not in the slightest. I just want to help out my wonderful sweet parents who I love so much.(drops the balanced bowl and the fruit) (Tom and Sabine look at each other warily) Marinette: (dejectedly) You guys don't trust me. Then again, I'm such a klutz. Even I wouldn't trust me. (picks up oranges) Tom: Of course you're not a klutz, my darling. You're hired. We'll just— Marinette: (hugs Tom) Oh, thank you! You're the best parents in the world! (dances out of the room while singing, and crashes into something) Sabine: We'll just make twice the number of macarons. Just in case.

And the Shanghai special:

Sabine: Marinette, are you saying that... you want to go to Shanghai?! Tom: (excitedly runs up the stairs and back with a cardboard box at full speed) Your mother and I have been waiting for this moment for so long! Sabine: We always thought that one day you'd want to see your ancestors' country to connect with your Chinese family! (Gently holds Marinette's hand.) Tom: (opening the box) We've been putting money aside since the day you were born - enough for a family trip! We were just waiting for you to ask. Sabine: (wiping a year) For you to be ready!.. Still, this is a bit sudden! Tom: We can't close the bakery now. (They look at each other.) Sabine: If you want to give uncle Wang his gift in person... Tom: ... you'll have to go alone. (He closes the box.) Marinette: (gasps and squeals, then hugs her parents) You're the best parents in the whole world!

So long as Marinette's parents aren't involved in a plot that requires them to be bad parents for said plot to work, they're pretty consistently portrayed as loving and generous people who support their daughter in her various endeavors. I have never once considered writing them any other way because, while there is a salt fuel in the text, it's limited to a few bad episodes. To make them bad parents you have to ignore more than you embrace.

There's also the fact that there's no reason to make them bad parents in most situations as the story is already brimming with bad parents. Gabriel, Emilie, Andre, and Aubry give you a lot of options to work with. You even get bonus options in Jagged, Colt, and Amelie depending on how much you want to embrace questionable choices re character backgrounds and such. I don't really see any reason to make both Marinette and Adrien have bad home lives unless you're doing something wildly different from canon.

[chimggukchim]

Share our @s so we can be bullied in our inboxes till kingdom come and be ostracized by you lot? No, thank you. I'm a Jikooker too and I've seen it happen to other Jikookers too many times just because their view of Jikook isn't "they are 100% together and practically married and monogamous towards each other for more than 10 years now"

Unfortunately this space has become too cult-like where one just can't have a slightly differing opinion about Jimin and Jungkook's relationship or express how they personally truly observe it without Jikookers losing their minds or accusing them of things, the way you guys are doing right now.

There's literally no difference between this community and the Taekooker community anymore - I've seen that crazy side turn on their own just because they had the audacity to point out the ITS talk made sense to them because for a while prior to that even they felt things weren't the same between Taekook anymore. And now it's Jikookers doing the same to other Jikookers🤦🏻‍♀

People can believe that Jikook is real while still pointing out the things they feel contradict that belief, or they can believe they were together and no longer are but still think they are special to each other, or they can believe they aren't together in what one would consider the "conventional, traditional" sense.

Taekook can never be real. That is a ship that has no real substance and was literally formed on aesthetics and vibes and had a whole false narrative attached to it that became lore over the years. A lot of people say just Jikook's existence alone cancels out Taekook, but I think even if Jimin and Jung kook didn't have the kind of dynamic they have and/or they didn't exist as a duo, Taekook still wouldn't be real. Please there's fuckall there.

I am someone who believes there's something more than platonic between Jimin and Jungkook and that Jungkook is deeply in love with Jimin, but still I agree with everything the last anon's(s') said. They *are* different from how they were before and the last few years make it hard to believe in the kind of image of them that Jikook shippers have painted for years.

We are Jikookers, we are here, we exist. Accusing us of being Taekookers won't make that shit true. We don't have to be a monolith.

First thing's first - YOU may not be a taekooker in disguise, but the other anon most likely was. And most with dumb takes are as they have a knack of using the SAME rhetoric and examples every single time, not to mention, always managing to slip in Tae somehow. Let's get that out of the way.

Now, here's the thing, anon.

I understand completely, the feelings of confusion and second-guessing whether jikook are really together or not. I have been there before, on multiple occasions. There were things in the past as it happened that made me doubt whether my suspicions about the true nature of their relationship was right. I get it.

So don't go putting words into my mouth and think that you can assume 'what kind of jikooker' I am.

Cause like I've said on multiple occasions now, I did not start out in the ARMY fandom space either as a jikooker or as a shipper. I had no clue what shipping was. And til this day, I remain an ARMY supporting all of our boys as a group before any sort of shipping enters my mind. Whenever I watch BTS content, jikook as a couple is never at the forefront of my mind. I watch them as a part of Bangtan.

There are certain moments that jikookers put on a pedestal as concrete 'proof' of a relationship, that I side-eye and hence, make no post or comment on because it does not make sense.

If tomorrow, Jimin and Jungkook were to announce they were both dating other people, I would still be happy for them because before anything, I want them to be happy. If that's with other people, so be it.

So I know me and how I perceive Jimin and Jungkook's relationship. I trust my objectivity of their relationship over yours, thank you.

Now to what you have accused most in this community of...I have honestly yet to see to the extent that you have indicated. Harassing? Bullying? Cult-like? Well, I've got news for you. You're in the wrong side of town, deary. And people who go looking there, clearly want to find what they're looking for. (toxicity, by the way)

And the way you spoke of taekookers and knowing how they behave and treat each other?...Honey, the 'normal' jikooker would NEVER EVER find themselves anywhere near taekooker spaces willingly. But you have apparently. That says a lot.

You're looking for trouble. You're going to find it.

Also...my sympathy for you lessened when you compared jikookers to the cult. Because the last time I checked, jikookers didn't go around literally harassing Tae's and JK's FAMILIES AND FRIENDS in real frigging life. So miss me with that similarity nonsense. Point out all you want about SOME jikookers not being able to handle different takes of others all you want, that's fair. I'm sure there may be the immature ones like that in this community, I'm not denying it. I assure you, they're in the minority. But the minute you go comparing any shipping community's behaviour to THAT CULT...it clearly shows loose objectivity.

So with my sincerest heart, I would advise you to change your space. You're clearly in toxic spaces, jikook and taekook-wise. This is bound to influence how you view not only jikook but more importantly, the jikook community.

There is a reason why I don't answer or comment on toxic asks. It's because it brings negativity to the jikook space. And I don't want that. I have found myself probably treading on that territory these days with this discourse. But I'll work it out to bring back the space to positivity and just focusing on Jimin and Jungkook.

Anyway, the final thing I'm going to bring up is that you all keep speaking about Jungkook and Jimin's relationship changing with no actual evidence. You all simply point out things happening now but fail to actually show a proper comparison to the past to highlight the 'CHANGE'. That's not how that works.

For instance, I can say their relationship changed in that Jungkook became a lot bolder with JImin publicly as opposed to years ago. He actively flirts with Jimin on stage when, for instance, during the Red Bullet Tour (back in 2014-2015), he didn't. Jimin did. See how easy that is? Comparison.

If you have any sound comparisons...with proper context, by all means, share. I'm up to hearing it.

PS. This does not include "they don't see each other as much" because we are not privy to how much they actually saw each other back then nor how much they did in 2022/2023.

Anyway, that's all from me. Peace!

[hedgiwithapen]

Leverage timetravel, pre pilot/child ot3 meet their redemption era selves

(I took some liberties re: /meeting/) In hindsight, visiting the US Patent office was probably not their smartest move.  Never return to the scene of the crime, and all, at least not if the job was finished. 

But they'd put a pin in going back for the time machine, and not even a really bad idea could deter Hardison from an actual time machine. Well. Portal, like Eliot had said. 

It hadn't come with an instruction manual, but the three of them, Hardison, Parker, Eliot were professionals at figuring things out on the fly . Even lost in the past. Even scattered. 

Hardison knew he just had to wait, though. They'd find each other. They'd lived through the past once, they could deal with it again, especially knowing everything they did. And it wasn't like they had to live through the whole span of years, either. They just had to find each other, put the pieces back together, scattered with them, and go home. Easier said than done--he was starting to think they might have ended up in different times--but still, the Estimated range was fifteen to twenty years, so that was only five max before they met up, right?

Hardison had gotten right to work. Ads in every major newspaper in the heartland cost plenty, but he had years of criminal practice on top of knowing what tech to invest in, so he really wasn't that worried. He guessed Eliot would be betting on sports games, like in Back to the Future. Parker... well, it was hard to guess where she was. Once he and Eliot met up, they'd have to wait for her to get to them. He did have a few things to do, first.

He knocked on Nana's door, feeling like maybe he ought to be wearing a bow tie. 

"What is it? You from the county?" she asked, when she opened the door. He could see behind her a few curious faces, including his own. Damn, he'd been so tiny. 

"Yes, Ma'am," he said brightly. He could remember this day, vaguely. The box he held was more familiar than his adult face. "I'm here to install your new computer."

"I didn't order any computer," Nana said. "Run your scam someplace else."

"It's not a scam!" he heard his own voice say. "I entered a contest at school."

He had. And he'd lost. Stupid Jake Puckett had won, a kid who could have easily afforded a computer. Alec hadn't known that though, until Hardison'd checked idly. And he wasn't about to just let all of history change. Well, all his own history. 

"You got some proof of that?" Nana asked, and Alec went  scampering off to his room to find his copy of the essay.

Satisfied with the expertly forged documents (wow! it was much easier to forge past documents when you were in the time they were from!) Nana let him in and pointed to a corner desk near an outlet. 

"You ever use your own one of these?" Hardison asked Alec, who shook his head. " just the one at school. I really won?"

"Sure did. Now, let me show you what this thing can do."

~

Eliot stood at the edge of the field, a newspaper crumpled in his hand. Hardison was in Boston, if the ad was right, and of course the ad was. No one else put that much effort into a coded message. 

He watched the football fly. In two weeks, the kid throwing it would be on a bus to boot camp. He closed his eyes. There were options.  Kid wouldn't believe him, of course. There were no secrets yet, to spill as proof. And he was too stubborn to buy the warning.  A good solid tackle, though. Break his arm bad enough...

He'd thought about it. And then about the what ifs. The blood would still be spilled, he knew that. Someone else would end up on Moreau's chain. Someone else would end up with a half dug grave for Flores, and maybe keep digging it.  Everything he'd done for money, the money'd go to someone else. Job might not get done, or it might. 

He'd be there for his mother's funeral. He'd miss Katherine Clive's. Rebecca Ibanez.  the way the drinking might have gone... he'd miss Nate Ford's.  He'd go to school, like his dad wanted, never play college ball. Study something-- art history, maybe -- but no, that was him now. Not him then. Him then would be angry and broken. Him then wouldn't have... his people.

He crumped the paper further. "Dammit, Hardison," he said quietly, and walked away. 

~

Parker had a code. Some things, you just didn't do. Some were big and flashy and obvious. Some were smaller, quieter. 

Hardison would say she shouldn't do this, she knew, and she usually listened to Hardison. He knew what he was talking about, most of the time. You can't change the past. That'd been part of the lecture before they'd gone to steal the time machine.  You can do things, sure, but you always did them. 

Well, Parker hadn't done this. No one had, back the first time she'd lived through this day. But she was doing it anyways, breaking his rule and her own. You don't steal from kids who don't have anything. 

Carefully, she picked the lock on the child's bicycle chain. 

[bteezxyewriter12]

I Still Want You

Pairing- Yoongi x Named Reader

Word count- 4.8k

Includes- Angst, smut, fingering, pussy eating, cum eating, missionary, soft sex, love making, multiple orgasms, fluff

Tag List- @mingtina @jaxminnie @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa

@borntowalkaway @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi @seokwoosmole @meowmeowminnie @realisticnotes @effielumiere @svnbangtansworld @insomniacatiny @marvelfamily3000 @amyz78 @blueie-things

Masterlists- check out for more fics

📝Masterlists 📝BTS Masterlist 📝Yoongi Masterlist

J POV

She stands against the barricade looking up at him as he performs

She sings along softly to the song, tears falling slowly down her face

He's smiling, happy, having so much fun running around on stage and performing for his ARMYS

And while she misses him so much she's glad he's happy

Even if she's miserable

She was going to surprise him by coming to this show in Seoul, the last leg of his tour

She was going to scream his name, be like a fan girl, hold a stupid sign so he could see her

Then she'd go backstage after the concert was over

She used her own money to buy floor tickets so it could be a total surprise

But she was the one surprised when he broke up with her right before the tour started

Two years together and he just ended it, saying he doesn't feel like the relationship is going anywhere

Saying he wasn't feeling her anymore

It came completely out of left field because up until that point he was acting normal

Then he dropped the bomb

She thinks he met someone else

She suspects he cheated but she doesn't have any proof

But she wouldn't put it past anyone

Doesn't matter anyway because the result is the same

She's heartbroken and without him

She couldn't return the ticket and she didn't want to

She came super early and scored a spot in the front right against the barricade so she can see him clearly

She watches him come down the stairs near her section of the floor, making his way towards them

She knows this is part of his concert when he comes close to ARMYS, high fiving them and taking one lucky fan's phone for a selfie

The ARMYS around her are screaming at the top of their lungs, holding their hands out for him to touch

He smiles as he jokes around, going to reach for their hands then pulling back, then reaching again, laughing the whole time

He's right there, so close to her

She tries to make herself as small as possible, moving her head down so he doesn't see her

She knows that him seeing her will change nothing and she doesn't want to deal with the awkwardness of the momentary recognition

That's not why she came

She came to silently support him and see him in his element for the last time

He just had to pick her section out of all of them

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees him take the phone of a girl literally two people away from her

If he turns his head he could see her face and she's panicking, hoping he won't

He takes a selfie with the phone, hands it back then continues to touch ARMYS hands

She moves her arms, pulling her hood of her hoodie up, trying to hide her face as he goes along the line of ARMYS, blessedly passing by her

She lets out a sigh of relief, then finally moves her gaze up

He's climbing back on the stage, holding the mic and rapping into it

Hugging her body she just watches him perform

--------------------------------

Yoongi POV

'She's here', he thinks as his heart beats into overdrive, his staff drying his sweat, handing him clothes to change into

She came

He knows her from anyone, recognizes her anywhere

He didn't notice her until she started putting her hood up

That caught his eye because he wondered why she was doing that

It's sweltering in the area

And he noticed she was the only quiet one, the only one not holding her hand out

The only one not looking at him, her head down

So as he passed her, he tried to get a good look at her

It's her

His jagi

The girl he regrets leaving

The girl he realizes he loves with all his heart and can't live without

He thought his feelings for her changed

After all they weren't seeing much of each other, especially with him working so much on his album and getting ready for the tour

He didn't feel like he missed her, didn't feel the need to drop everything and see her

He thought he didn't need a girlfriend and he broke up with her the day before he left for the start of his tour

He remembers her crying but she didn't put up a fight

She asked him to stay, to try to work it out, but when he said no, she left it alone

She told him she loves him and he didn't say it back

And he's regretted everything since that day

He fooled himself

Because total communication shutdown is completely different from the way their relationship was going

He still called her everyday, still heard her voice, sometimes video called and saw her face

And he still saw her, maybe twice a week

It wasn't much but it was something

Physical contact, kisses, hugs, sex, cuddles

Then it went radio silent because he made it that way

After the first show, he realized he couldn't call her to share his excitement

He wouldn't hear her asking him to tell her all the details, wouldn't see her face on the video call as he told her all about it

He wouldn't hear about her day and how she was with him gone

He wouldn't hear her beautiful voice he loves so much

He panicked, completely regretting what he did

That he hurt her

That he gave away the best thing in his life

He was waiting to come back to Seoul so he could talk to her

Apologize and beg her to take him back

He had to do this show and two more for the next two nights then he was going to text her

But she's here now, she didn't give up on him and he can't wait

He has to try to get her back tonight

Stepping on stage, he immediately goes to her side of the arena as his song D-Day starts

He sings into the mic, scanning the crowd for her, trying to remember where she was

He has to go back to the center of the stage to rap the first verse but once he's finished, he runs back to the side of the stage, pretending like he's hyping up the crowd when he's really looking for her

He spots her and his heart pounds, clearly seeing her

She's looking up at him, sadness in her eyes but she's still mouthing the words to the song, her head moving to the beat

She's the only one not going crazy, not screaming or trying to get his attention

But she has it

She has all of it

He just has to get through the rest of this song, the next and the vlive back at his apartment then he can run to her

And he will

--------------------------------

J POV

I wipe my eyes as Yoongi says bye on the vlive

Of course I watched it

I wanted to see him, hear him for the last time

Shutting the computer off, it's done

It's over

He's really not part of my life anymore

That though brings a fresh wave of tears

I thought that maybe there was still a chance that we could get back together

But it's clear that's not happening

From watching clips of concerts, seeing the way he was on stage today, how happy he is in the vlive, it's clear he doesn't miss me

And why should he?

He's everything, I'm not

I just wish it didn't hurt so much, wish I didn't feel like I was dying without him

I don't know how to even begin getting over him

I love him with everything in me and I can't stop

I wish I could just turn it off

But unfortunately I can't

Standing up, I leave my bedroom and go into my living room, grabbing the remote for the TV

I'm not tired and I just need something mindless to watch

It's not like I've been sleeping well for awhile anyway

I took off tomorrow because I didn't know how long the concert was gonna be so I have all night to be awake

Sighing, I turn the TV on and start channel surfing

--------------------------------

My doorbell startles me awake

When did I fall asleep?

What time is it?

Checking my phone, I see it's only been half an hour since I sat on the couch

I must have just dozed

Stupid bell, I could of gotten a good night's sleep if it hadn't woke me up

The bell rings again and I stand up, grumbling to myself about who the fuck it is so late

And getting ready to ream them

Unlocking the door, I twist the door knob and pull the door open, my insult dying in my throat

I blink my eyes to make sure I'm seeing what I think I'm seeing

"Yoongi?", I whisper, confused

Am I still dreaming?

He looks at me, sadness in his eyes and his whole demeanor, a stark contrast from how he was on stage and in the vlive

"You came", he says softly

I am so confused

"Uh, what?"

"You came", he repeats, stepping inside, his arms moving around me as he hugs me, his face burying in my neck

My arms immediately go around him, it feeling utterly good to hold him again even though I'm completely baffled

"You came"

"Came where?", I ask, wanting to know what he means by that

He lifts his head, looking down at me, his fingers pushing my hair back from my face, "To the show. You still came. After everything. After hurting you. You still came"

He saw me?

How?

I went through great lengths to make sure he didn't see me

I didn't want to be seen

"I knew it was you", he says, "You were the only one standing still, the only one pulling a hood up in a sweltering crowd, the only one not trying to touch me"

Well shit

"I'd know you anywhere jagi", he whispers

My eyes meet his at the name he used to call me all the time

The name I loved to hear

"I...I didn't want you to see me", I whisper, "I just...I bought the ticket before we...to surprise you when you came back from tour. I still wanted to go, so I could see you perform one last time"

He shakes his head, leaning his forehead against mine

"Not the last time baby. Please, not the last time"

"Uh Yoongi", I start, "I'm uh...really confused. I haven't heard from you for months and you just show up, acting like....like..."

Like he loves me

Which is impossible as he made it clear his feelings for me changed

"Can we talk? Please?", he asks

I mean yeah

I kinda want to know what's going on

"Yeah", I answer, "Come to the living room"

He let's go of me so I can close and lock the door, then follows me the few feet to the couch

He sits right next to me, taking my hand, holding it tightly

Uh ok

"Jo, I'm sorry", he says softly, "I'm sorry I hurt you for no reason"

No reason?

Not loving me is a reason

He can't help how he feels

"I'm not following", I say slowly, "What do you mean for no reason?"

"What I mean is that I was so wrong jagi. So wrong", he answers, his eyes on mine, "I love you so much"

My heart starts pounding in my chest, a million thoughts in my head

The main one is 'what?'

"I just, I took you for granted baby. I thought I didn't need you because we weren't seeing each other much", he explains, "But I was so wrong. When I realized I couldn't call you, couldn't talk to you, couldn't hear your voice, couldn't see you, I knew I fucked up. I knew I was wrong and I love you with all my heart"

I take all this information in, shock entering my system

"Why...why didn't you say anything before tonight?"

"Because Jo, I didn't have the right to. I hurt you, made you cry, walked away while you were crying for me. You deserve so much more than a phone call of me apologizing and asking you to take me back. You deserve to have that in person. I deserve to beg you to take me back"

I shake my head, "You don't deserve that Yoongi. You don't. You don't have to beg for anything"

"But I will", he whispers, "For you, to be with you, I will"

"I don't want that Yoongi", I say

He never has to beg, I would never make him do that

While it hurt like hell, I understand where he was coming from

If he felt like he didn't love me, then what was he supposed to do?

Force himself to be with me?

That's wrong and would be so selfish of me to want that

"What do you want jagi?", he asks, "I'll do anything you want. Give you anything"

I hesitate

There's a few things I have to know

"I want you to be one hundred percent honest"

He nods, "I can do that"

Ok, here goes

"Did...did you meet someone else? Is that why you thought you didn't love me?"

"No", he says, shaking his head, "There was no one else. Just my stupid brain"

"Did you cheat on me and feel guilty?"

"No!", he exclaims, "Never jagi. I would never do that. I've never done that before. And I'd never hurt you like that"

I nod, satisfied with his answer for that

"How do you know what you're feeling now is real? How do you know you won't wake up tomorrow or in a few days and realize you were wrong again and you don't love me?"

This is what I'm scared of

Him leaving again

I don't think I can do that again

My heart can't handle it

He shakes his head, "My love for you is real jagi. I missed you so much while I was on tour. You were all I thought about, all I wanted to run home to. I felt like I was dying without you. I was going to wait until I finished the next two concerts to talk to you. But when I saw you in the crowd, I just....I couldn't wait. I need you Jo, I love you more than anything. You'll never know how much baby because stupid words can't encompass what I feel for you. You are my everything and I swear, I'll never be that stupid to let you go again. I swear"

I believe him

He has always been honest with me, never sugarcoated anything, never lied

Even when he was breaking up with me he was brutally honest about his reasons

So I know that when he says something, he means it

"Please jagi, please take me back", he whispers, "I swear, I'll do everything to make it up to you. Please jagi"

I reach out, moving my fingers in his hair, pushing it back off his forehead, "Yeah Yoongi. Of course naekkeo. I love you so much"

He gives me his gorgeous gummy smile, then his lips are against mine in a searing kiss

And I'm happy

--------------------------------

Yoongi POV

Her arms wrap around my neck, her lips kissing me back and I'm in heaven

I have my jagi back

I meant what I said to her

I'll never let her go again

I was an idiot once, never again

"Can I stay?", I ask, when the kiss ends

She nods, smiling softly at me

"Please naekkeo. I can't sleep without you"

I nod, knowing exactly what she means

"I can't either baby"

My sleep is always disturbed, tossing and turning when she's not next to me

I've never been so exhausted on a tour as I've been on this one

"C'mon baby", she says, taking my hand and leading me to her room

--------------------------------

"Yoongi", she moans, as I kiss her neck, her naked body trembling under mine, her hands tangling in my hair

As soon as we got into her room, I kissed her, our clothes went flying and here we are, touching each other everywhere

I missed her so fucking much

"Jo, jagi", I murmur, moving my lips down to her neck, kissing her

I'm so fucking happy to be in her arms

I feel like I'm right where I belong

With her

Spreading my kisses down her body, I lick her nipple, then take it in my mouth, sucking on it

"Yoongi", she moans, her hand squeezing my shoulder

I wrap my hand around her other boob, squeezing it, my fingers pinching her perky nipple

"Fuck", she groans

Switching to her other nipple, I suck on it, sliding my hand down to her cunt, running my fingers on her, feeling how wet she is

She's soaked

As I play with her nipple, I push two fingers in her cunt, feeling her suck them in

"Mm so tight baby", I groan, starting to pump my fingers in her pretty cunt

"Oh god Yoongi", she cries, shaking as I move my thumb against her clit, rubbing it as I fuck my fingers into her sweet pussy

I live for the feeling of her cunt throbbing around my fingers, hell, the feeling of her throbbing on anything on me- my fingers, my tongue, my cock

Every thrust I make sure I slam my fingers into her spot, making her cry out each time

I move back to her other nipple, licking and slurping around it, her hips moving, meeting my finger thrusts, taking them deeper

Her cunt throbs quickly and I know she's gonna cum soon

"Cum for me jagi", I murmur, thrusting my fingers in, flicking her clit and sucking her nipple at the same time

"Yoongi!", she cries, coming all over my fingers

"Yes baby", I urge her, watching the beautiful sight of her coming, "My best girl"

When she finishes, I pull my fingers out and move them immediately into my mouth, sucking her off them, moaning as I taste her again

So fucking good, I need more

I start kissing and licking down her body, wanting to get to her cunt quickly

I open her pretty legs more when I get down to her pussy, slowly sliding my tongue up between her slit

I moan, finally tasting her again and it's even better than I remember

She shivers when I lick up her cunt again

"My girl's so wet already", I murmur, her cunt soaking my face just the way I like it

"Yeah naekkeo", she moans, making me so happy to hear her call me that again, "You make me like this baby"

I know I do

And she makes me rock hard all the time

I take my time, going slow with long licks, making sure my tongue touches every part of her pussy, all the way to her clit

"Oh my god", she whispers, her legs shaking around my head

"Good baby?", I ask

"Mmmm hmmm", she moans, "So fucking good. I missed your tongue baby"

"I missed your pussy baby", I say between licks, rolling my tongue over her clit, the throbs sending pleasure down to my hard cock

As I eat her sweet pussy, I move my hands along her body, touching her soft skin, feeling it tremble under my fingers

"Yoongi", she whines and fuck, I didn't know how much I missed hearing my name in her voice

Sliding my tongue down, I dip into her hole, feeling her cunt suck my tongue in and clench down around it

"Mmm", I groan as she whimpers, "Fuck"

I fuck my tongue into her hole, her cream spilling into my mouth and I swallow the sweet cream greedily

Her hips move up on their own, pushing into mouth more, her hand plunging in my hair, holding on tightly

Her hole is so tight and throbbing, I can't wait to feel it around my cock again

Pulling my tongue out, I wrap my mouth around her clit, sucking softly

"Oh my god", she moans, her body shuddering on the bed, "Don't stop naekkeo"

I don't intend to

I suck faster on her pulsing clit with each move until I'm slurping on it, relishing having it in my mouth again

Her clit is hands down the best thing to suck on her body

"Yyy..Yoongi", she moans

She's close

I know how she sounds when she's close

"Gonna cum baby?", I ask, sucking desperately around her swollen clit

"Y...yes", she gets out, twisting my hair around her fingers

I want it now

"Good baby. Give it to me", I plead

"Yoongi, fuck Yoongi", she cries

"Fuck jagi", I moan, sliding my tongue in her coming pussy, her cream dousing it as I swallow, "So fucking good"

I keep slipping my tongue in and out of her hole, her pussy creaming around it so I can swallow all of her cum

I make sure her pussy is completely clean and I get every drop of her delicious cream before moving away

I move away, getting on the bed, on top of her

Pressing my lips to her neck, I kiss her slowly, into the spots that she loves and keeps her shaking as I run my fingers up and down her body

"I love when my jagi is sensitive", I mutter, "Love feeling your skin tremble jagi"

"Mm Yoongi", she whimpers, "Kiss me naekkeo"

I immediately crash my lips to hers, kissing her desperately

Her arms fly around my neck, as she kisses me just as desperately, her tongue down my throat, her body presses against mine, her legs wrapped around my waist

"Please jagi, can I be with you?", I ask between kisses

"Yes baby. Fuck yes", she answers, making me happy

Holding my cock to her hole, I push inside her slowly

Breaking the kiss, I drop my forehead on her shoulder and moaning so loudly as I push in

The familiar pleasure of her pussy sucking me in washes over me, making me shiver against her

Her tiny cunt spreads open just enough for me to slide in, clenching repeatedly, making the pleasure so intense

"Fuck Yoongi. Oh my god", she whimpers, her body arching into mine, her head pushed into her pillow, bliss all over her face

I groan as I bottom out, my head pressed against her spot, her hole spasming so good around me

Goddamnit she always feels so fucking amazing

So tight and so wet

Pressing my lips to hers, I kiss her as I slowly pull almost all the way out, then move back in

"Fuck", she moans

Moving slowly but hard and deep, I plunge into her pussy, making sure I hit her spot with each stroke, rubbing her clit with my pelvis, making love to my jagi

Showing her that she means everything to me

Her arms move around me, her hands running up and down my back slowly, feeling amazing, heat flooding every nerve where her fingers touch

"Yoongi", she whimpers

"Jagi", I murmur, running my fingers in her hair

I kiss her soft lips, loving the warm feeling that spreads through me from her kiss

She starts moving with me, her hips going up when I slide back in, making me go in deeper

Pleasure spikes through me as she squeezes my cock tighter than before, her pussy making pretty wet sounds as she takes me, creaming my cock so good

I slowly plant kisses all along her neck, touching her body everywhere as I give her deep stroke after stroke

Her arms tighten around me, holding me close, her hand sliding in the back of my hair, pulling softly and I moan from how good it feels

She lifts my head from her neck, pulling me to her, her lips crashing into mine in a kiss

Sliding my tongue in her mouth I touch hers, kissing her hard

I let go and let myself get lost in her

Everything fades away until it's just her- her touch, her scent, her kiss

Her

My jagi

The love of my life

We move together over and over, with her starting to throb on me harder and harder

Oh my god, it feels fucking incredible

I fucking love it

She kisses me harder, both of us clinging to each other

She's getting closer and so am I

"Please Jo. Give me", I whisper

Our kisses become more desperate, hands touching and squeezing each other everywhere

She's right there and the next thrust makes her cum, clenching me so fucking tightly

Her body shakes in my arms, her mouth still kissing me, moaning my name softly between our lips

"Yoongi"

The pleasure is outstanding and I let go, coming hard, my cock throbbing in her orgasming pussy as I shoot my cum deep inside her

My body trembles too as her pussy milks my cock so fucking good, her arms holding me so tightly

When we both finish, I pull away, looking down at her

She looks up at me, her beautiful eyes scanning my face

I gently touch her face, her eyes closing and her hand reaching up, holding the back of my hand

She turns into my hand, kissing my palm

"I love you Yoongi", she says, her eyes opening, the love in her eyes taking my breath away

"I love you Jo", I tell her, "So much jagi"

"So much", she whispers

Laying down, I hold her tightly, loving the feeling of her cuddling into me

She buries her face in my neck while I play with her hair

After awhile, I hear her soft snores, smiling as I kiss the top of her head

Close my eyes, I fall asleep, so happy and grateful I'm back home

😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻

The next night

Yoongi POV

"Jagi", I call as the stylists put the finishing touches on my makeup and hair

"I'm here naekkeo", she says, moving in front of me

Taking her hand, I lace our fingers, squeezing softly

"Oh baby you look so pretty", she giggles, making me smile

"Not as pretty as you jagi", I chuckle

She shakes her head playfully, "Uh uh naekkeo, you are prettier. And so hot. ARMYs are gonna go crazy"

That makes me laugh, "Yeah well that doesn't matter as long as you think I'm hot"

She smirks, "You know I do. I think last night proved it"

It sure did

I don't think I ever had so much sex in one night

It was like we had to be with each other, making up for the months we were apart

It was sex then sleep then sex then sleep on repeat

Finally around 8 am, she told me no more, that I had to sleep to be rested for the concert tonight

She held me, playing with my hair and I swear I never had such a good sleep even though it was only for a few hours

But I'm rested enough and I'm energetic because I have her back

She's with me, like she should of been the whole tour

"Yeah jagi", I smirk, "Gonna prove it again tonight?"

"You know it", she smiles

"I'll prove to you too baby"

"I know you will Yoongi. I know"

After a few minutes I'm done and up, getting my mic, inner ear pieces and everything else I need

Taking her hand, we walk towards the back stage, hearing the chants of "Agust D"

The show starts in three minutes

I turn to her before I have to leave her back here

"Thank you for coming tonight jagi"

She smiles her gorgeous smile, her arms moving around my neck, mine moving around her

"Always baby. I know you're going to do an amazing job naekkeo", she says encouragingly

I smile at the confidence she has in me

She was always so supportive

"And I'll be right here watching and waiting for you"

I sigh happily, feeling so much better knowing she here

This calm feeling, this assurance I have was what I was missing the whole tour

She's my everything, my support, my inspiration and I'm never letting her go again

"I love you jagi"

"I love you naekkeo", she answers, smiling widely

Leaning down, her lips meet mine in a sweet kiss that feels amazing

I know I'm one lucky son of a bitch to have her back

"Yoongi, it's time", one of the staff calls

I reluctantly pull away from her, gazing into her beautiful eyes

"Go baby. I'll be here", she assures me

I nod, "Thank you jagi"

She shakes her head, "Don't thank me baby. I'll always support you"

I know she will and I have to work better at appreciating her

I will

"I love you", I tell her

"I love you Yoongi"

Pressing a quick kiss to her lips, we let each other go

"Have fun", she smiles, making me smile back

I turn from her, walking to the stairs leading to the stage

I check that I have everything, turn back to her, smiling

She nods, I nod, then I go up the stairs to the screaming ARMYs

[shiftinggisreall]

Shifting is not as easy as people make it out to be.

You must have heard this phrase multiple times.Some people might argue that you can shift with any mindset.They say you don't need to fix yourself in order to shift,they say that shifting is as easy as breathing.But let's be honest.If shifting is as easy as breathing,wouldn't we all have done it right now?

Stay with me.I'm not trying to discourage anyone or belittle people who has tried shifting for years,and yet still wake up in their cr dissapointed,wondering what else do you need to fix.Wondering if there is something wrong with them.

If someone have been trying shifting for 5 years, and other shifters say that shifting is soo easy, wouldn't that be even more discouraging?

Now back to what I was saying, shifting is not as easy as what people make it out to be. There, I said it. Shifting as a practice itself is really easy, but accepting it as a real thing, and accepting that you don't need to do anything but assume it is yours in order for it to be yours isn't. Shifting is basically ripping apart your entire viewpoint of the world. The fact that we are pure conciousness and that our effort doesn't equal to sucess, it can really be hard to accept.

Because the truth is, in shifting, how much you put effort in it and how much tears you shed because of it doesn't matter to the universe .It isn't some subjective thing that is waiting for the right time, it is not some subjective thing who is stopping you from shifting.

Only you are. Your need to check in 3d is. Because the harsh truth in shifting and manifesting, is that you are all alone. Your success and failures are all caused by you.

The universe is a mirror. It simply reflects your state of being. And if you check in 3d,wondering and searching for the tiniest signs that you have shifted, it is basically reaffirming to yourself that you don't have it yet.

As Neville Goddard say, "I will be" is only an admission that you are not.

The 3d is merely a reflection of your past assumption. It is not your enemy that you need to fight, it is your teacher, and your proof that your past assumption hardened into reality. The second you understand that the imagination is the only reality, you wouldn't care what the 3d said. Because you know that the story that happened in your head is the only real one.

"An assumption, although false, if persisted in, will harden into fact." -Neville Goddard.

Assume it is yours, and it is yours. There is nothing that can be done to aid your assumption after you assume it to be yours. Nothing can stop it from being yours.

It is not fantasy,it is the law,it is inevetable.

[out-there-tmblr]

Young Zaundads wip (38)

***

Most of the planning comes down to Silco. Funds in and funds out, captains they've given their word to, goods they'll be able to sell quickly (the cosmetics, the gas masks) and the alcohol that makes a better profit but takes longer to sell. The whole thing makes Vander's head hurt but Silco spends days rearranging estimates and carefully writing over his figures.

Silco trades a bottle of wine to the harbour master for an ink pen, but he spends more time staring at the forms each night than daring to write on them. He stores them carefully in the safe, locking it every night and insists Vander scrubs his hands if he wants to lay a finger on them.

"You have to be a Piltovan citizen in order to buy land," Silco says, chewing on his thumbnail and staring at the pages spread across the desk. "Technically, the undercity is part of Piltover but none of us have any papers that could prove citizenship."

"Do the forms ask for proof?"

"They ask for an address. I think 'abandoned shack in an old mine' might raise some concerns." Silco sighs and stretches back on the desk chair, arms above his head and head tilted back. "We could lie. Just pick a Piltover address and hope they never send paperwork there."

"Or steal the mail," Vander offers from the bed. It's an hour past curfew. If Silco doesn't come to bed soon, Vander's going to fall asleep in an empty bed. And then Silco will wake him up to complain there's no room left for him and make him move over. "Come to bed."

Silco grumbles under his breath but he carefully places the forms and the ink pen in the safe, and then locks it. He turns the lantern down low, and starts stripping by the faint yellow glow.

"We can't do that," Silco says, pulling his shirt over his head and folding it over the back of the desk chair. "We wouldn't know when the mail was coming. We can't afford to come over to Piltover each day just to steal mail."

Silco undresses by mindless habit, an easy routine. Vander still likes watching it, the steady reveal of pale skin. The narrow line of Silco's waist, the long lines of bare thighs as he steps out of his pants and drapes them over the chair as well. He pulls the tie from his hair, so his dark hair hangs free to his shoulders, swaying as he moves. 

The last things Silco removes are the cotton bandages wrapped around his forearms. He keeps them there in case there's an accident in the mine, a burn from a fuse or a deep scratch that needs to be protected from the dirt in the air. If he isn't injured, he'll take them off each night, the last piece of armour he takes off.

Once he's completely bare, he comes to bed. Climbs into this little piece of Piltovan luxury, between soft sheets and cheap, thin blankets and kisses Vander. It starts as a goodnight peck but Silco lingers, lips warm and gentle fingers on Vander's cheek.

Vanders slides his hands around Silco's hips, thumbs brushing along the jut of hip bones, and Silco kisses him again, slower and wetter.

"Did you want to sleep?" Silco asks as if the answer isn't obvious.

"When have I have ever picked sleep over a little action?"

"I wouldn't want to keep you up," Silco teases, nipping at Vander's upper lip.

Vander rolls his hips against Silco, his cock pressed to warm, bare skin. "I'm already up," Vander says and Silco snorts at the bad joke.

They grind together as they kiss, as hands slide over skin, tracing all the places no one else gets to touch. When they're both breathing heavily, Silco pushes himself up with a hand on Vander's chest and reaches under the bed for that small bottle of oil.

"I want to try something new," he says, so it's not Vander's first assumption. Silco pours a little on to his hand and then carefully puts the bottle back on the floor. "Shove over for a moment. I want to lie on my back."

Vander shuffles to make room and watches as Silco spreads the oil across his inner thighs and then lies down, knees together. "Is this idea courtesy of Babette's?"

The tilt of Silco's chin gives away his slight embarrassment. "So what if it is? Come here."

Vander follows the light tug of Silco's hands, settles over Silco with his weight on his elbows, faces lined up so he can kiss him. "I've never heard of anyone researching fucking like you do."

"I'm not researching it. I'm not taking notes," Silco splutters. "A little friendly advice is practical."

"Too good to try and fail and figure it out like the rest of us?" Vander teases, pressing a string of kisses to the warm curve of  Silco's cheek. There's something sweet about it, that Silco would suffer the embarrassment of asking about sex, all to impress Vander.

"Keep complaining and I won't show you." It's an empty threat, given the way Silco reaches down one slick hand for Vander's cock. Vander hears the rumbling groan he makes when Silco strokes him, firm and serious. "Anything else to say?"

"You are very clever," Vander says, dipping down for a kiss as Silco strokes him again, "and very pretty."

"Better." Silco guides Vander's cock between his thighs. It's not as hot, as tight as being inside him, but it's slick and warm and Vander can keep kissing Silco as he moves. Deep, hungry kisses that get messy and breathless, that become open-mouthed panting against skin as Silco works a hand between them. Vander can feel Silco's knuckles against his stomach as Silco jerks off, one hand on his cock and the other tangled in Vander's hair, holding him close.

Silco's a mess afterwards, stomach and thighs sticky and a dark love bite on his shoulder that Vander barely remembers making. Vander decides to be gracious and fetches a damp cloth.

Silco pulls a face as he wipes himself down, but that's probably for the chill of the cold water. After cleaning himself, Vander rinses the cloth out, wringing it and putting it over the bowl to dry.

Silco moves over against the wall, leaving space for Vander to get in. He likes Silco like this: all those sharp edges softened, smooth like a river rock.

"I was only teasing, you know," Vander says, lying on his side and resting an arm across Silco's chest. "About the research."

"I know," he says, but there's something in Silco's tone, like he's thinking something and doesn't want to. 

"What is it?"

Silco traces over the back of Vander's hand, over ridges of knuckles and faded, fine scars from bar brawls. "Life used to be simple. Before you. I didn't want to die here. That was it. Just survive and get out."

Vander slides his head closer on the pillow, enough to lean his forehead on Silco's shoulder.

"I was too angry to let them kill me," Silco says, and a little of that broiling anger seeps into his tone.

Vander soothes him, his hand brushing Silco's side. "And now?"

"It's not enough. It's not enough to get out just to die somewhere else. I can't drag you out of the mine with nowhere to go. Just to starve on the streets until we choke on the Grey? You'd be better off here."

"It's not all on you," Vander says gently, pressing a kiss to whatever bare skin he can reach without moving. "We could leave together. Work for a trader."

"And watch you be seasick? You'd hate it."

Vander hums. He can't really argue that.

"I keep thinking there's… more," Silco says slowly, like he's considering each word before he says it. "There's a chance here, there has to be, but I can't quite see it. All I can see are locked doors, and every time I find a key and force it open, there's just another locked door behind it. And another. It would be easier just to give up."

"For anyone else, maybe," Vander allows. He can't imagine Silco without his driving ambition, his desperate urgent desire to achieve something. "Giving up might kill you."

Silco falls silent but his fingers keep grazing over Vander's hand. It's a soft and delicate touch in a place that tries to grind those things out of everyone. Closing his eyes, Silco says, "There were rumours, in the Foundling home, stories the older children would tell us. That when the benefactors came to visit, that sometimes, very rarely, they'd adopt someone and take them back to Piltover."

"Only the smartest, the most well-behaved, so we were all well-behaved when they visited in all their topsider finery," Silco says bitterly. "It never happened, of course. They sometimes brought sweets or ribbons, stuffed toys for the youngest ones, but none of us ever got whisked away to a life of plenty."

Vander can't help thinking of Silco's manners, his careful note taking and his love of reading. The little traits that allow Silco to talk to those Piltie engineers without them being uncomfortable.

"What if this is the same?" Silco asks, the words hushed in the dim room. "What if leaving the mine is just another naive, childish dream?"

It's hard to know what to say. Vander's never heard Silco admit doubt. Doubt in his ability to outsmart the system, to create his own way out. There should be something kind that Vander can say, something encouraging. Something that could make SIlco see himself the way Vander sees him: driven and indomitable, as strong and brave as anyone Vander's ever met.

Vander knows he should say something, but… As hard as he thinks, he can't find the words. "What about the land?" he says instead. "That would have an address, right?"

Silco turns, looking at him. Those pretty blue eyes blink, brows rising as he thinks. "For the form?"

"Yeah."

"That might work. They wouldn't send any mail here but it makes a certain amount of sense."

"See? We'll get there. We'll just pick one locked door at a time."

***