#hes quite literally spiraling (as it is drawn in his eyes)

[vero-niche]

atsushi is genuinely such a good example of a "healing isnt linear" character. no, the fact that a straight up god-creature killed your colleague is not at all your fault. actually, none of the things currently happenning are truly within your control. i get you tho

[queenendless]

💀🎃👻This Is Halloween👻🎃💀

A/n: Sequel to Spooky Greetings

Overblot Bois and Skully x Fem Reader. SPOILERS FOR THE NIGHTMARE BEFORE CHRISTMAS event. Especially THE END.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN~! 🎃

The ups and downs of being in a place like Halloween Town was quite the experience.

Despite the detour you encountered.

Like being nabbed by Skully for witnessing him kidnapping his dear Skellington and holding you and Grim captive in a literal walking bathtub to Spiral Hill. Yet he was the nicest kidnapper there ever was.

“Please enjoy these and make yourself comfortable, my love.” Skully’s kiss on the lips made you too tongue tied to eat the snacks he left behind. Leaving Grim to eat them instead.

Thankfully it didn't take long for a rescue. As in Sebek, Jamil and Leona dueling Skully as the others came to your side, totally put off by how unharmed you are. Immediately gobsmacked as you ran to a blushing crying Skully having a meltdown over his own personal issues and hugging him out.

If his idol and you could console him on his limited views on this spooky holiday and forgive him so easily, then of course he'd start bawling for joy.

“There there you precious boi.” You're cooing as you hug him and brush his white locks, Skully’s wet face nuzzling your flushed neck, to the flabbergasted faces of his rivals for your affections. And in that moment he won.

Finally the time had come to throw the yearly spooky celebration.

Hearing all your fellow schoolmates singing a tune tickled the back of your brain at the familiarity of said song.

“Sweets for you, my greatest treat~” Riddle showed up in the walking tub with Lock, Shock and Barrel, handing you a pumpkin faced treat with a smooch to your cheek.

“Let me fill your dreams with frightful delight~” Leona purred in your flushed ear, embraced you from behind as he kissed the top of your head from above, with Zero the ghostly dog bopping you on the nose with his tiny glowing pumpkin one.

“Your screams are music to my ears~” Azul's octo strength made it that much easier for him to twirl you around in his arms, dancing across the town, pecking your forehead.

“I'll be there for my lady fair.” Jamil assured as your hair like his and Sally's blew from the chilly winds; the autumn leaves flying on by, as he dove in to smooch your nose.

“Ride with me in the dead of night.” Hugging Vil securely as he modeled with ease on the flying broomstick gave you quite the view, turning around a bit to leave his kiss on your other cheek.

“My heart screams for thee!” Idia presented a heart in a jar to you given to him by Dr Finkelstein made your own heart want to pop out in fear and yet it was oddly sweet, especially cause your zealous boi smooched your neck, possessively marking your neck.

“Our Halloween Queen.” Malleus easily swoops you atop the Mayor's car he was driving at the moment, carrying you bridal style, gifting you a full on kiss to your lips, smiling mischievously against your own.

“In this town we call home, everyone hail to the Pumpkin song.” Holding your gloved hand in his own, you and Skully waved along with everyone else as Jack Skellington, the Pumpkin King, rose from the town fountain, pride emanating from him as everyone cheered at the finale.

Too bad you all forgot about it.

Until you were back at school, when Headmaster Crowley presented to you all a very rare portrait of a NRC alumni from centuries ago. Aka the King of Halloween that made such a holiday what it is today in all of Twisted Wonderland.

Despite no memories of the strapping young man, you all felt drawn to him and his influence, inspired to make this the best Halloween yet.

But while everyone else was getting pumped up by it, you were feeling odd. Like you were missing someone you had never met in the flesh and bone.

Seeing your admirers blushing red at your costume, appearing in a rag doll inspired couture dress with a ribbon collar to boot, it was time to begin Halloween Week.

And yet, for some reason, you felt eyes on you throughout the whole week. Tingly touches to your hands that felt like brushing kisses. Even on All Hallows Eve, the ghost-like press of the lips all over your face made you on edge during the float parade.

Running by the portrait in the midst of your anxious worried state. Those eyes following you unbeknownst to you all. With the moon full and the party still going strong in the distance, you felt drawn to the tombstones littered around Ramshackle Dorm. Instinct, another voice, your feet moving on their own will, call it whatever you will, for you moved to a particular worn-out grave. Atop a hill.

Watching the spectral form of the King of Halloween himself appear before you coming out of the grave, bowing graciously before you, as he offered his skeletal gloved hand out to you, his teary eyes and smitten smile unveiled to you, it all made a sudden wave of emotion hit you hard in the feels.

“Y/n, welcome back.”

While the mind was still fuzzy of your recollection due to the magic of the book, something else more primal awoke in you the moment your eyes locked onto his. Your feet moved before your mind could.

As physically as one could embrace a ghost, you still felt traces of warmth amiss the cold. You were surprised to feel physical arms hugging you in return. The bridge between the living and the spirits was blurred tonight so …

The longer you two stayed that way, the more the fog in your brain began to depart. The flash of your last moment together made you realize the reason for his choice of words.

“Skully.” You softly wept, clutching onto him tighter, when he cupped your face to kiss away the tears. His face, his mouth, they all feel so warm. “You're really here.”

“It's been far too long, my love.” He confessed.

That prolonged deep kiss began ebbing away the mist. Gently licking your bottom lip to get you to open. Smiling smugly as you returned it sincerely, humming at your hands running through his wispy hair. His phantom self became solid and lean, heart beating right up against your chest, his scent became more potent as they were the sweet and spicy of Autumn nature.

“I'm home.” He whispered against your luscious lips, nuzzling his nose to yours, smiling all lovesick at your giggling self.

The ghostly trio residents watched on with hearts in their eyes as you got lost in bliss, slowly dancing with the founder of their spooky dorm. Engaging in lip lock once more. Floating off the ground, basked in the stars of this special spooky night.

For you, his Queen, danced with him, your Pumpkin King.

[sadly-in-active]

Affogato Cookie x Amnesiac Reader (part 3)

Summary: Congratulations, you aren’t dead or anything! Apparently the head injury that you got from falling headfirst into a pile of rocks made you get amnesia! Hooray…yay…🤗. Luckily, you have a caretaker who’s here to tell you what you missed, who you are, and what happened to you! How sweet, right? And, uh, what was his name again? Oh, Affogato Cookie? Yeah, that’s fine. He’s probably a great guy, y’know?

TW: FINALLY some manipulation, normal gremlin Affogato, you don’t get wtf is going on because nobody is telling you besides the ex-advisor, and mentions of blood strawberry jam loss! Probably poisoning if you squint your eyes~ AND NOTHING I MAKE IS PROOFREAD.

Link to #1

Link to #2

You let out a soft groan, feeling both sleepy and sore as you blink your eyes open. Your gaze darts around, trying to make sense of where you are. It's freezing and everything is covered in snow. You’re in a cave... How did you end up here? And then it hits you—wait a second, who even are you??

“Agh…my head..”

You mutter softly, attempting to stand up but quickly collapsing back onto the ground, curling up from the pain in your chest. You notice someone has bandaged you up. So, you got wounded, someone brought you to this random cave, and then patched you up? Hm. Well, it feels like you should thank whoever helped you out. It just seems like the right thing to do.

However, a quiet yet amused voice was heard from the darker corner of the cave, where little to nothing would be seen without a light.

“Well, you certainly look like a mess. I’d suggest that you sit down, but I doubt that I get a say in what you can or can’t do.”

It was... someone. Not in a rude way, just that kind of voice that triggers a faint sense of familiarity, like you've crossed paths before but can't quite recall where or when. That damned memory loss; you can't even remember your own name or how you ended up in this situation. Everything feels like a haze, pieces of a puzzle scattered and lost in the fog of your mind.

“W…who are you? Do you know who I am too? How did this happen, what am I doing-”

You asked, trying to limp closer to the darker corner of the cave before the stranger giggled, cutting you off as he walked into the light. At first you were taken aback by how he looked. How could a voice as smooth and sultry as that fit someone who looked so…feminine? Well, you didn’t have time to question it, as he suddenly grabbed your hand and gestured for you to sit down, which you did.

“Oh, a lost little sheep like you must be very hurt after your incident. You don’t remember me, do you? That’s alright, I can tell you. My name is Affogato Cookie, but you can call me Affogato. You were attacked by one of the beastly snow lions within the kingdom’s snowy borders, and I stepped in to save you before you crumbled and bled out.”

Affogato, at least, that’s what he calls himself, just smiled sweetly, lighting some incense as he spoke. His demeanor exuded confidence, as if he held all the answers in the palm of his hand. And honestly? All you needed was someone to explain what the hell was happening in a way that wouldn’t send you into a panic spiral. His voice had this soothing quality, like a gentle breeze on a hot day, and you found yourself inexplicably drawn to it. You let out a shaky sigh, feeling a sense of relief wash over you as you nodded slowly, silently thinking that maybe, just maybe, things were going to be okay.

"You saved me…? Oh, you must be the one who put the bandages on my body. You saved my life - literally. Is there any way I can repay you?"

You asked, your voice a mix of gratitude and curiosity as you looked up at him, trying to read his expression. However, even as you spoke, you realized you had about a hundred MILLION questions buzzing in your mind, waiting to burst out.

Affogato merely smiled and tucked away a few messy strands of your hair behind your ears. Oh, you looked so naive and innocent…like a child who just found out about the world. It was delightful, seeing someone so strong and resilient be reduced to a confused and weak little sheep in need of a shepherd to guide them.

“All in due time, dear. Oh, and you were called [name], in case your mind forgot about that. You also were my most closest servant and disciple during my time as the Royal Advisor, as well as former King to the Dark Cacao Kingdom. Oh, you were so loyal…maybe I could make you remember what it was like..”

It was an obvious lie on Affogato’s side, but for you, it definitely sounded like the truth. If he was so eager to save you, of course he would’ve known who you were and how much you were loyal to him!

—

For the next few days, you were asking questions to the ex-advisor, and he answered with his own twisted way of reality. All to keep you under his thumb and become his sweet little puppet.

Yet, during the nights, you still seemed to have those horrible nightmares, this time coming back stronger and stronger to the point of curling up in a ball and just plain sobbing. What the hell were you even thinking about? What kind of stuff have you encountered during your time as a Watcher? It made Affogato ponder for many hours on end, still allowing you to lean on him during this period of time.

Affogato became more affectionate, as time went on. Well, during nights only. In the day he was that manipulative and cunning snake that everyone knows him as.

But he certainly can get you to quiet down, whether it be whispering in your ear or lighting some strong incense around you, keeping you sleepy and relaxed instead of terrified and anxious like a mouse.

He didn’t even know how you managed to break down his first wall of coldness and gaining a certain level of trust.

But of course, he had to be wary in case you somehow got your memories back.

For now, the feeling of your warm body breathing softly as you lean on his shoulder feels more relaxing then it should’ve.

I’m gonna explode

[honeybunniii333]

ED ANGST

(GLADLY, he's my favorite to torture, actually. Aside from Nevin! It's my love language ❤️)

Pain, burning piercing pain in his stomach. It hurt... it hurt really fucking bad. It was so bad that he couldn't hold in the pained cry that the force of the blade drew out of him. His gaze slowly drifted down to stare at the blade embedded deeply into his stomach before it shot back up to the perpetrator of said action. "James..." he choked out. The boy looked mortified, in as much shock as Ed was. They'd been arguing again in the midst of yet another supernatural mishap in the kitchen of the home ec room when James had angrily drawn a knife. Ed had assumed it was a bluff as James had never dared to get physically violent with him. He'd threatened, sure, but it had only ever been just that, a threat. So when James had gotten angrier and angrier and approached closer and closer with said weapon, Edward had not been afraid. Why would he be scared of his friend? Perhaps he should have been...

As James seemed to finally register the depth of what he'd just done, he panicked. Yanking the blade back out of his 'boss', which resulted in another pained noise and Ed's legs giving out on him as he pressed his hands to the wound to try and slow the bleeding. "james.." he wheezed again. "I didn't..boss.. I didn't mean.. I-" His long stammering session was quickly interrupted by a horrified shout. "ED!?" Dez, Cody and Isaac, they'd gotten separated during the commotion, and the trio had finally managed to find them again, only to stumble upon quite the scene. James turned to face them, dropping the bloody knife in his hands as he stumbled back. "holy...shit.." Isaac whispered before they were all surrounding him. He was still processing what was happening as Dez gently pushed him back to lean back against the counter behind him. "Shit shit shit.. oh god..." Dez stuttered out as she brushed Ed's hands away to put pressure on the wound.

"I'm okay.." he croaked out, and the glare Isaac shot at him made him shrink a little. "You are literally bleeding out." he hissed, though Edward was pretty sure it was because he was worried and stressed. Isaac got pissy when he was stressed, so he chose not to take it personally. He coughed a bit. He was starting to feel really tired and woozy. Figures, they always seemed to need Drew anytime he wasn't with them. His senses felt dulled, his vision was blurry, and his head felt heavy and fuzzy. He knew he was losing blood pretty fast and partially registered the sound of Dez frantically chattering with someone on her phone, her hand reaching out to squeeze his in an attempt to keep him present. He didn't understand. He'd been so certain James wouldn't hurt him. Where was he anyway? Ed couldn't see him anywhere nearby, nor hear his rambling anymore either. He started to sink into his thoughts more and more until those thoughts started to fizzle out halfway through. His eye lids started to get heavy as he began to feel a bit chilly, shivering as he let his head fall back fully against the counter wall behind him.

"Hey, look at me." Isaac's voice drew him out of his dazed half thoughts. He forced himself to look up at the blonde hovering beside him. "Mn lookin.." he mumbled, Isaac's form looked hazy in his blurry vision, but he could still make out the boy's worry. Isaac tended to always look annoyed. He had an awful case of resting bitch face. But Edward had always found that to be an odd concept because he personally didn't think anyone looked very friendly when their expressions were blank. But maybe it was just him, Ed tended to think differently than everyone else, it seemed. "Ed..." A harsh grip on his arm startled him back to reality yet again. He'd hardly noticed his eyes starting to drift shut as his mind spiraled. "Mn here." he croaked out, his voice didn't sound like him... at least he didn't think so. It sounded weak, barely there. He'd have been embarrassed if he wasn't so out of it. Isaac looked somewhat panicked like he was scrambling for the answer to a question. He could hear Dez still talking and registered that at some point, Isaac's Flannel had been taken and tied against his wound to hold stop the bleeding. It didn't look to be working well, but neither were hands... Speaking of hands... Isaac had one on his face now, drawing his attention back to him as his own blood was subsequently wiped across his cheek. "Hey..uh.. uhm.. Stars!" he blurted out, and Ed couldn't help but wheeze out a laugh at the randomness of it. Laughter hurt, and his head hurt really bad, too. "Stars?"

"Yeah, stars.. tell me about them." he insisted like talking about stars was the most important thing ever. And in that moment, it was. God, as long as Ed kept talking, it was. Isaac had never ever thought he'd be praying for Edward Quinton to keep talking, but here he was... Ed winced as a shiver and a cough racked through him again, before speaking finally. "Well...There are about 9,096 stars visible to the naked eye in the entire sky... and.." he trailed off for a second. "The color of... stars can range from red to white to blue. But... I... know the colors are usually the... the opposite... but... Red is actually the coldest, and Blue is the ...the hottest." He continued on, and when he'd start to trail off between words or slur them around a little too much, He'd feel Isaac's grip tighten and try with all his might to will himself to keep talking. He talked.. and talked... until talking started to get really hard. His head was practically resting against Isaac at this point. He wasn't sure when he'd ended up like that. He could feel hands in his hair, too. "Ed.. cmon... you're almost there... stars?" he whispered, he sounded.. strained? Kind of... But his head was too foggy to piece together why. "Stars ...a..re..." he tried, but his eyes were nearly shut by this point, and staying awake sounded like such a pain. His head felt like it was full of static, and he couldn't move anymore. He just wanted to go to sleep. He knew Isaac was talking to him, telling him to stay awake. He could faintly register the sound of sirens.. and the hands on his face again, but that was it as he blacked out, finally.

The next thing he heard was the slow and steady beeping of a heart monitor. His eyes slowly fluttered open, and everything still felt kind of hazy. Not quite the same as before, though. He squinted, trying to take in his surroundings in the dim room. It took a moment for him to register he in a hospital room. And even longer to register, there was a hand holding his. His eyes trailed over to find Isaac. Resting against the bed holding his hand as he slept. Dez was across the room and passed out in an armchair. They both looked like wrecks, and Edward felt a pang of guilt as he realized it was because of him...His shifting seemed to wake Isaac. "Hey.." his voice sounded so soft it almost felt wrong coming from him. Not that Edward disliked it... "You gave us a real scare, Asshole." he grumbled, and that sounded a lot more like Isaac. He frowned, wincing in guilt and glancing away. "I'm... sorry.." he whispered. "How long.. have I been out?" He added after a short pause of silence. "About a day... everyone's been to visit. Your brother and Janet went for food. They'll be back soon..." he hadn't let go of his hand. Their fingers still laced together. "Fuck... haha.. guess I'm gonna get quite a few lectures huh?" He wheezed out a laugh. He smiled but was definitely not looking forward to that. "I don't think they'll be super hard on you..." Isaac assured quietly, which was followed by another long pause.

"... Have you been here this whole time?" He asked. Noting that Isaac's clothes hadn't changed at all. "...for the most part.. I've left to get food a couple of times." he admitted. Edward felt the urge to scold him for it bubble up in his chest, but he felt currently he had no right to lecture on self-preservation at the moment, considering where he was. "Dez needed someone to swap watching over you with, and I didn't have anything better to do." he insisted using the age-old excuse of boredom. "Isaac..." he sighed. "What?" The blonde huffed back indignantly. "Thank you." He hummed, letting his eyes fall shut and weakly squeezing the smaller teens' hand. Isaac's expression faltered, and he let his head sink back down to rest against the bed. "... Yeah..."

[zoros-bandana]

Hm... This has been bouncing around my head for a while, I was wondering, how would you handle a zoro x beefy fem!reader who fits into the patient 'gentle giant' trope, at least until that strength is needed? As in, she can and will break people in half if her nakama is in real danger. Maybe the first occurrence when she 'snaps' into this cold fury is kind of frightening, unexpected... but kinda hot?

An Unexpected Match

(SFW)

Warning: Water 7 spoilers, slight mentions of fighting

Summary: Intimated by your strength, Zoro took no notice when you joined the crew, only to later find himself in a spiral of attachment to his newfound crush; the gentle giant.

Word Count: 2,500

(A/n: I started to write this as a literal giant reader and got so carried away I didn't realise until I had all but finished that I had to restart the request. I also apologise I haven't been posting a lot for the last few months both mentally and physically I've been through it and I am exhausted)

The Strawhats stumbled across you in a bleak aftermath of rubble, destined to find their missing friend, to only be met with someone overgrown and timid, waiting for them to strike.

Luffy was infatuated by you the second he saw you, like a shiny new toy in a pile of rusted second-hand gifts. He had only crossed a handful of tall women before you, but non were quite as impressive and buff like you were.

Wasting not a moment longer, Luffy was quick to plead you to join his crew, wishing for the addition to his once low number. Unsure of a proper response you agreed, letting them sweep you up in a serious of frightful and dangerous adventures. New to the crew you stayed timid and uneventful, the exposure to numerous battles only fearing you more. You felt out of place with the kind and bonded people you now called your friends, your status making you feel outcast. It was easy to remind yourself of the differences placed between yourself and your friends; the height being one of the many obvious.

Your friends had to accommodate to your addition height and strength, drawing even more attention to something you wished to ignore.

For the first few months you stayed behind the crew, hiding your true potential in battles, afraid to let everything out. It was a constant nag through your life that you were to conceal your true strengths, knowing the damage it would cause. And although you wished to help your friends, the damage outweighed any of the positives, keeping you in a loop of fear and anguish.

Despite this, there wasn't a day that passed that you didn't catch the attention of Zoro. He could tell there was something about you, something utterly mesmerising, finding it hard to keep his eyes from you. It was obvious you stood out from most, standing almost double his own height and a defined body covered in rippling muscles, but your kindness was enduring. It was something unexpected from you, to behave so tender to your friends and even those who you barely knew, keeping him drawn to you like a magnet.

He saw you in ways you never knew could be seen by anyone. He dismissed any negative proposals of yourself, much like many of the crew, however, he did it in such a way that almost made it believable. He was honest, despite peoples feelings, and his truth hindered part of you, pushing you to explore what the brave swordsman saw in you.

After Robin was captured, however, it felt like a personal attack. Robin was kind to you, as she was with everyone, soon becoming a close friend. She had opened up about her past, enlightening you with stories and knowledge, bringing comfort that she would not harm you. It lit a fire under you seeing how broken she had become, risking everything to bring her back to the crew, even if it meant becoming what you feared the most.

Facing off against CP9 lit the fuse that urged your fire to burn. At first it had stopped the crew, watching how brawling you turned, your physique so muscular and obscene, it was if they were looking at a different person. You held no remorse for the government as your ripped through their walls, wielding your hands into unforgiving weapons that tore through whoever came into your path. You voice held a brutal shake, rumbling the ground as you swore to return your friend. Your face holding a twisted growl, covered in a heavy red, eyes large and dark.

Your crew held the same morbid stance, never expecting such dramatically intense rage to surface. You were so timid and frightful to even raise your voice and now, as you terrorised the people in your path, there wasn't a single drop of warmth in your actions. You were cold, blanketed by your own compressed emotions as you finally let them all surface, brewing into a steaming mixture of fury.

Thrown off by your actions, everybody remained frozen in terror; all except for Zoro. He had never seen anybody so alarming, so consumed in a ravenous anger, it almost seemed beautiful.

And that was when Roronoa Zoro knew, this was more than just admiration for you.

The strange fascination with this unusual crew-mate was more than just an awe of your obvious strength.

This is what he saw in you; such raw beauty it paralysed him with devotion.

This was a crush.

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

Zoro sat with his arms crossed behind him, resting against the bottom of a tree, pretending to be asleep. His eyes, half shut, were drawn to where you stood, helping to hold up the side of the ship as Franky patched up the large hole that forced a sudden stop.

His eyes wondered over your arms, taking in how strong you were, the muscles rippling under your skin as you held the large ship; acting as if it was nothing. Smiling to himself he shifted his gaze up, watching the soft and kind features of your face. Your face was twisted in a shy smile, giggling lightly as Franky told you some joke that he ended with his usual 'super'. Zoro couldn't help but feel jealous at how easily you bonded with other members of the crew, especially taller members such as Franky and Brook, making him feel almost outcasted by your kindness, yet so determined to be flooded by it.

"Who you looking at?"

Zoro averted his eyes quickly, staring up as Luffy blocked out the mid-day sun, devouring some kind of meat that he no doubt stole from the refrigerator.

"Nobody"

Luffy ignored his comment, looking over towards the ship.

"It's (Y/n), isn't it?"

"No!" Zoro spat, although the bright blush on his cheeks contradicted his statement.

Luffy chuckled, unaware of the exact reason his friend was so embarrassed. It was normal for Zoro to act like this, keeping a close eye on the crew as if it was his only mission; growing more protective by each island.

"Oi! (Y/n)!"

Zoro froze, watching as the captain flagged you down, wishing he could disappear. Your eyes rose up from Franky, fluttering sweetly over to where Zoro sat, casting the same precious smile. Confused at Luffy's calling, there was a slight tilt in your head, shuffling your gaze between your captain and the swordsman.

Luffy waved for you to come over, making Zoro shuffle in his seat, anxious to try and flee the scene. His heart hammered loud in his chest, fogging over all senses, unaware you had broken away from Franky and was heading towards him. He could faintly make out Luffy's voice, soon followed by the mouse voice of your own, easing him like an anchor as he looked up towards you.

All eyes landed on Zoro, waiting for some kind of response, as if he had toasted to the audience for an emotional speech.

But what exactly could he say?

What would happen if they knew - if you knew - he had feelings?

He couldn't come across as weak.

"What?" Zoro spat out, keeping his voice as level as he could.

"You were looking at me?"

Zoro could see fear wash across your face, doubt creeping into your mind that he was looking at you for all the wrong reasons; the views that you saw of yourself. He knew none of what you saw was true, years of your own trauma battering you into self-doubt that he wished to ease. He wanted nothing more than to comfort you and show you it was okay to be yourself, as brutal and incredibly demanding as you were.

The fear on your face became a look of sadness, creating your own answer from his silence that it was a look of disgust. Embarrassed, you retrieved back over to Franky, flashing Luffy an apologetic smile on the way.

Exhaling deeply, Zoro shut his eyes, hoping Luffy would disregard what had happened to leave him wallowing in his guilt. He felt so tongue-tied around you, never knowing how to say anything supportive without confessing. Since he realised his intentions it was increasingly treacherous whenever he spoke to you, as if he would blurt his love out loud.

Luffy stayed by his right-hand's side, watching as you walked back over to the ship-right. He could sense that there was something amiss between his two friends - even someone as thick as him could work that out - seeing the interaction first hand. You looked so hopeful when he mentioned Zoro was looking at you, your face lighting up with possibilities of kind words. But once you were met with silence there was a deafening sadness he could feel, his protective captain instincts recognising your troubles instantly.

"I think (Y/n) likes you"

Zoro snapped open his eyes, following Luffy's voice as he chucked to himself.

"Huh?"

Swinging his legs, Luffy sat down next to Zoro, crossing them under him. "She really cares about what you think of her, Zoro. And I think that is more than friends"

He was silent for a second, the cogs in his head turning as he processed further. "Do you like her too? Is that why you keep looking at her?"

There was a mix of realisation and confusion in Luffy's voice, not comprehending if his conclusion was the right one. Zoro did care for all the crew equally, protecting them when he could, so his stab at a confession from the bleak swordsman was one he threw blindly.

"I- I don't know" Zoro mumbled, barely audible to the captain.

“I think you do” Luffy beamed, tearing off another enormous chunk of meat, stripping it off the bone. His pause gave Zoro a moment to think, reevaluating his answer, however, not wishing to confess to his loud mouth friend.

News spread like wildfire when Luffy was involved.

Grunting, Zoro rose from his spot, tracking as quickly as he could through the sand, heading back towards the ship. His heartbeat grew thunderous in his ears, shaking his vision of you as he caught your attention, calling out as he got close.

“Oi, can I talk with you?” Zoro strained his voice, letting it carry up to you.

You look puzzled, darting your eyes away from him to look back at Franky. He had stepped away from his work to assess you both, looking back and forth as he waited for someone to speak.

“You’re free to go, (Y/n), I’m just about done with this anyway”

Franky’s words released you from your excuse to hide from Zoro, more afraid from his stern talks than his silence. You had observed the way he pulled fellow crew members aside, only to inflict negative comments or arguments that you chose to avoid.

Cautiously agreeing, you placed the ship down, following Zoro up the side of the beach to give you both a bit more of space. You knew it would be pointless to escape the crew from overhearing your conversation, your voices soaring even as a whisper. But Zoro wanted that space. He wanted to feel like he could have you alone, even for a few minutes, to be vulnerable enough to apologise. He hated the feeling he had hurt you.

You had turned into the trees, cowering through the thick shrubs, hoping to distance yourself from embarrassment. There was a mutual tension that hung over you both, as if you both wished to share how you felt with neither one wishing to be the first to admit it out loud. Between Zoro's stubborn emotions and your shyness, it became a match for the rest of the crew to turn to for entertainment.

"I didn't mean to hurt you" Zoro mumbled, hoping it would reach you. "It caught me off guard when Luffy invited you over and I didn't know what to say. I don't always know how exactly to act around you. I often look at you because I think you are truly something great, something so wonderful, so beautiful, and I can't help feel drawn to you and your strength. The truth is actually..."

Zoro cleared his throat, speaking louder.

“I like you, (Y/n)!”

A silence fell around you both, forcing Zoro to look back over his shoulder; knowing his words had caught the crews attention. His face flushed over in a bright glow, noting that the crew had indeed noted his words, standing around to wait for your response. He wanted to run from this situation, feeling exposed in front of the people he cared about most.

He knew he would be teased for this.

A soft mumble caused Zoro to turn back to you, realising you had said something, a light blush on your face. Moving closer to you, Zoro took small steps, shaking as he did. He had never been so close to you but he wanted to hear your voice again, hear the melody he loved so much, hoping you would repeat yourself.

Your eyes darted down quickly to look at Zoro, locking onto one another, seeing each other perfectly for the first time.

It was surreal observing each other like this, so close, taking in as much of each others features as you could. You noted the soft curves on his cheekbones, framing his structured face with a deliciously sharp frame. His eyes held a cautious but beautiful edge, deep grey eyes pulling you in like a sinking ship to water. He was just as beautiful as you noted from further away, intriguing you just as much as before.

“I like you, too”

Your blush darkened before you looked away, hearing the faint cheers from your friends as they overheard you reciprocate Zoro's feelings. He was quiet for a moment, letting your words sink in, overwhelmed with how those words sounded coming from you. And how they were aimed at him.

A sense of relief drained from Zoro, easing him to speak clearer, almost cockier. Now he knew your intentions were more than just some half-promised words from Luffy he was ready to go further, guiding the first steps to becoming more than what you were already.

"Well, would you like to do something about it?"

A smile washed across your face, reciprocating his light and almost playful speech. It served almost as a hammer to your walls of fear around him, knowing you could be yourself and he would still like you just the way you were; easily crashing through them.

"That's if you're willing to handle me"

Zoro smirked, amused by your quick wit, seeing a new side to you intrigued to find out how many other layers you were hiding from him. He was elated to see what could come from your growing feelings for each other, tackling these new emotions as you sailed with your friends to accomplish your dreams. And Zoro couldn't think of anyone better to be by his side when he did.

"Oh, trust me, (Y/n). I can handle a lot more than you know"

[kneelmylucille]

On Your Knees - Chapter 2

Abstract: “Sweetheart,” Negan’s raspy voice growls above you, as he places the bat in your face once again, carnage dripping and hanging from the barbed wire. He opens his mouth with a shit-eating grin as if to speak, but as you look up and meet his eyes just as before, he falls deafeningly silent.

Characters: Negan x Female Reader

Warnings: violence and gore, eventual smut, nsfw, 18+

Words: 1,971

Awaking with a strained gasp, you heave your eyes open to find yourself in the same place you had been for what felt like days. Upon arriving at the Sanctuary, you had been thrown into the equivalent of a cell. It was pitch dark other than the sliver of light that peeked under the door, taunting you. Your every muscle aches from only having the cold concrete to rest your head on, and your stomach lets out a low rumble. You had refused to eat anything that they had given you, distrusting the gesture.

Though, the physical ailments pale in comparison to the mental. Your mind had not stopped turning since the moment you were taken from your group. You couldn’t help but fear that Daryl had met the same end as Abraham, after his lashing out at Negan. Hell, they could all be dead for all you know, and Negan could be saving you for last.

You were still in the same blood-drenched clothes from that night, a fact which you had chosen not to dwell on, as it would send you spiraling even farther down into the deep dark depths than you already were.

You had given a lot of thought to how you would die, even before the world had ended. Whether it would be something sudden and simple like a car wreck, something drawn out such as sickness, or if you would die of old age surrounded by those you love. Dying in the place of someone you loved had always seemed like a good way to go.

Yet of all of the countless possibilities which you had pondered over the years, you had never suspected that you would die somewhere such as here, quite literally backed into a corner, after watching your companion die kneeling and not having moved a finger to try and stop it.

The sound of heavy footsteps drawing near brings your attention back to the true weight of the situation at hand. You straighten your form, back pressed firmly against the far side of the cell, as you see the shadow of feet fall outside of the door. The door swings open, and you hide your searing eyes from the sunlight which pours in, your eyes having become accustomed to the dark cell.

“Hi there.”

You squint up to see a mustached man, whom you immediately and particularly do not trust the sight of, as his lips are stretched out into a wide-toothed and not-so-charismatic grin.

“It’s your lucky day. On your feet.”

Not wishing to stay in this cell any longer, despite any possible outcomes of leaving, you rise slowly to your feet, your injured knees screaming in disagreement.

The man takes off with long strides down the hall, implying that you should follow closely, and you hesitantly comply. What had he meant by ‘it’s your lucky day’? While he could have meant the words sincerely, after seeing what the Saviors were capable of, a chill runs up your spine as you wonder what other meanings could have been hidden behind the hope-inspiring words.

We could take him right now, he wouldn’t see it coming, the devil on your shoulder sneers, as it slowly wields a knife from behind its back.

But you have no true weapons at hand, and your malnourished body aches with the simplicity of each step as you continue to follow blindly. Even if you were able to overpower the larger man, you had no idea how to navigate your way out of the Sanctuary, nor who else you may run into on your journey.

We should follow him. He did say it is our lucky day after all, maybe he’ll give us some water, the angel on your adjacent shoulder states through chapped and peeling lips.

“I’m Simon. You’ll be seeing a lot of me around here,” the man in front of you bellows, giving an almost knowing look over his shoulder. For a moment, you worry that he had been listening in on your silent debate.

So, they don’t plan to kill me, at least not right away, you deduce. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be seeing much of anyone around anywhere.

Simon stops abruptly outside of one of the many doors within the Sanctuary. You hold your breath, preparing yourself for what or who may meet you on the other side. Yet, as he opens the door in a very ‘be my guest’ manner, you find an empty bedroom on the other side.

“Welcome home!”

Not bothering to spare another glance in Simon’s direction, you carefully pass over the threshold, examining the unfamiliar surroundings. The room is warmed by the burnt orange glow of the now setting sun, pouring in through the large circular window to your right. A full-sized bed sits pushed back against the far-left wall, on top of which looks to be a small stack of neatly folded clothes. A bookshelf rests alongside the bed, stocked sparingly. To your surprise, there also seems to be a full kitchen, but the sink is what pulls you in. Rushing over, you turn on the faucet and unabashedly stick your head in, gulping down the cold water which gushes out. The angel on your shoulder sings gleefully as her wilted face blossoms back to life. The devil rolls its eyes in defeat.

“Ahem,” Simon clears his throat, and you turn to him slowly and wide-eyed before smiling shyly and turning off the faucet behind you. “Make yourself at home. Showers are just down the hall. Expect company soon,” he smiles that same repugnant smile as before, his eyes never following his mouth’s lead, “Much to discuss.”

With that, he disappears back into the gloomy hallway, shutting the door behind him, once again leaving you alone with your thoughts.

~ ~ ~

Some time had passed since Simon had made his unnerving exit, and you now found yourself laying wordlessly on the freshly cleaned linens of the bed, gazing up at the unpigmented ceiling. Dried blood clung to your skin, as you had not yet taken advantage of the shower, nor the new clothes which were laid out for you. You did not want to get too comfortable in this setting, especially when you were still unaware as to what was to be discussed when ‘company’ arrived. You had, however, found the fridge stocked top to bottom with fresh produce, which you had ravenously gorged yourself on in order to silence the growing frustration of your then empty stomach.

Images of that night begin to flash through your imagination. Your stomach twists as you recall the squelch of Negan’s bat coming down onto Abraham’s ravaged form, a sound which was still so clear to you that you would swear you could still hear it. Your stomach drops as you think of where Daryl is now, was he wondering the same about you? You raise your hands to your eye-line and study the cuts, placed there by the gravel which you had gripped onto. Replacing your hands to your side, you allow your eyes to flutter shut and take a deep breath, relaxing into the mattress.

A slow, rhythmic knocking at the door brings you to your feet in an instant.

You float towards the door, having lost all sensation in your legs, placing your hand lightly on the doorknob. Although he had made your skin crawl in disapproval, you crossed your fingers and toes that it would be Simon who stood on the other side.

Though, as you unhurriedly pull the door open, your heart skips a beat as you’re met with the looming figure of Negan.

He is adorned in the same outfit as that night, minus the red scarf, and holds his bat leisurely over his right shoulder with a gloved hand.

You apprehensively look up to meet his fixed gaze, and find him smirking in acknowledgment at your shock.

“Well, hello there.”

You remain in a dazed silence, unsure of how to greet the man before you.

His gaze turns vaguely stern as his eyes shift to the room behind you, and you quickly step aside to let him in.

He wrinkles his nose and smiles, as if there were some inside joke which you had missed, and strides into the room, shutting the door behind him.

Throwing his arms proudly into the air with a waving gesture around the room, he turns facing you, and leans back on his heels, “Nice, ain’t it?”

Not wishing to illicit any rash decisions on his part, you nod firmly, “Yes.”

Scanning his eyes over the room, they land on the mess of leftover and gnawed fruits and vegetables left out on the counter. Somehow, his smile grows even wider, as he points passively at the massacre, “I see you’ve fucking made yourself at home already.”

Your face turns a deep shade of red as you tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, wondering for a moment if the food was not yours to take, “Yes, Simon insisted that I do so.” You give an involuntary look of disgust at the remembrance of the weasel-like man.

Negan’s brow gives the ghost of a furrow, as he takes note of your reaction. His eyes move down over your body, taking in your rough appearance, focusing a moment longer on your scabbed knees, both on full display through your decrepit jeans. You squirm under his gaze, not sure how much longer you can withstand the growing tension of this encounter.

Finally snapping, you ask the question which had been plaguing your thoughts, “What do you want with me?”

Negan smiles, tongue poking the inside of his cheek, “Isn’t that obvious, sweetheart?”

As he’s met with a mute silence on your end, he takes a step forward, lowering his bat pointedly in your direction, “I want you to work for me.”

You take a brisk step backward, eyeing the bat anxiously, before analyzing his face for intention.

He throws up his hands in mock surrender and lowers the bat to his side, “Now, don’t you worry your pretty little fuckin’ head about Lucille here, she’s just along for the ride.”

You blink in confusion for a moment, wondering if he saw someone in the room whom you couldn’t, before realizing that the ‘Lucille’ in question is his bat. Internally, you let out a long, drawn-out sigh, if you hadn’t already known that he’s a psychopath, this would have tipped you off to that fact.

“You want me to work for you?” You ask as if not believing his response.

He gives a dark chuckle before taking another step toward you, eyebrows raised, “Yes,” he drags out, “Is that too much to fucking ask?” He once again gestures to the room around you, “I’ve, generously might I fuckin’ add, fed you, clothed you,” He points lazily to the clothes which are still folded on the bed and takes another long stride toward you, so close now that you have to crane your neck to maintain eye contact, “Given you a bed to rest that pretty little head on.” He smirks for a moment, eyes flashing down and up your face.

“Hell,” he booms, “You’ve even got A/C!”

You glance around the room before returning your gaze to his own, struck into silence for a moment by his close proximity, “Why me?”

He looks between your eyes for a moment and smiles that wolfish smile, which is quickly becoming far too familiar for your own liking, before taking a long step past you toward the door.

“Dwight will show you around the place in the morning,” he drawls as he struts out the door and disappears without any further explanation.

You realize, then, that you can hear the hum of cicadas in the distance, dancing in through the ever-so-slightly ajar window.

[strayheartless]

Well here’s a series I thought I had grown out of…

Welcome back (albeit on a new account) to Flo copes! A series where I channel what I’ve just been through into my faves because I’m incapable of dealing with strong emotions on my own!

Todays topic? Panic attacks! And how each character deals with them!:

Sora: simply put, he doesn’t. Sora is incapable of recognising when he needs to stop and breath. Nine times out of ten he thinks a panic attack is his body finally giving up the ghost and he makes himself worse. It usually hits him randomly and any little moments of panic he locks down until it mounts up and makes him cry and throw up and then cry again.

Kairi: Kairi good at managing her emotional well-being, and regularly takes brakes to ensure she’s doing okay. But when it does hit her it usually manifests itself as uncontrollable crying. Usually her panic attacks are more drawn out, their like an all day thing. She will wake up feeling terrible, spend breakfast fighting tears, cry by lunch, then get set off by small stuff like music that sounds sad, cry again around bedtime and end up going off to look for someone to help her calm down (usually Aqua or Axel because they give the best hugs.)

Riku: ah yes, my boy is hyper aware of panic attacks and the minute one presents itself he takes himself off -like a dog in distress- and deals with it alone. It manifests it’s self as intense nausea, swimming vision and shortness of breath. He’s thrown up more times than he hasn’t, and nobody except Ienzo and Even have ever seen him have one.

Roxas: this kid don’t have the time nor the inclination to deal with panic attacks. He knows what they are and that he has them, he just simply refuses to let them rule him. If one starts he goes and plonks himself between Axel, Xion and Isa and stays there until it stops. It usually feels like a overthinking spiral that leads to shortness of breath but he’s never let it get far enough to know if there’s anything else.

Axel: Axel tends to get explosive when he’s having a panic attack -in the emotional sense (although fire has been known to happen too.). He snaps at everyone and starts to get an intense feeling in his chest until he can’t cope and starts yelling in panic. It’s kind of scary to watch him go through it.

Xion: my poor girl shuts all the way down. It’s more like a PTSD episode. She gets this far off look in her eyes and she’ll stay in the same position for a while as her heart races and she tries to focus on coming back. Touching her is not a good idea because she is likely to lash out and then get upset that she’s done it. Which invariably ends in tears.

Ventus: here’s another little fellow who simply shuts down. His ears start to ring, his heart Jack hammers and then he’s somewhere he didn’t remember going and being told he just clocked out. It’s scary because he generally doesn’t know where the time in the middle goes.

Aqua: like sora, she doesn’t realise it’s happening and then it’s on her and she can’t escape. She ends up throwing up a lot of the time, and quite often panic will grip her FAST and then she’s incapacitated by it. Unlike sora however, she doesn’t put it off or try to push it down. She lets it happen and lets people take care of her when it does.

Terra: cries. Uncontrollable, heaving, body wracking sobs, shaking violently, doesn’t know what’s happening, vision goes blurry, the whole nine yards. Terras panic attacks happen frequently and with an intensity that shocks everyone. He ends up feeling literally everything all at once and sometimes he’s been known to start laughing out of sheer fear. Nobody. Likes. Watching. It. Happen.

[thek1ngtalks]

🌧️

And

⭐ Director's Commentory⭐

Both MTN pls!

....and then you'll be forgiven for the long wait of chapter 3 <3

Thanks for the food!

WARNINGS: Spoilers for chp3 of MtN! And certified Yapping on my behalf.

Okay so for 🌧️:

Suho read somewhere, once, that Americans love to move. It's in their blood, the desire to drift. He has no clue what this means for him, now. 

If Americans crave change, then South Koreans crave stability. But where does Akatrina fall in all this? What happens to men split in half? He is a man of habit, he is a creature of eternity. He is doomed to change, dealing in all things finite and ending.

He doesn’t know how to live in a state of change. Parts of his mind forever spiraling in a singular moment. Yet he’s drawn to finding something that won’t shift when his feet land. He does not know how not to shake the platform. He’s struggling to find a stable ground but the floor is creaking, the walls are wailing. His rocking tips the scales.

There is an open sky above him, bleeding red with bubbling black clouds. The clouds hang heavy in the sky, faces screaming and cursing his existence.

There is a sky above him and no ground below.

So he falls,

⭐ Director's Commentory⭐

so i really want to talk about MtN's first scene with Aria and Oliver (the mother and son (corn demon))

Something about his mother was held in Aria’s unfamiliar eyes, in the slope of her nose, and in the gentle hand she cards through her son’s hair. Something about the way she cried, glass teardrops on delicate features, over her son’s feverish body that felt like pieces of his own mother preserved. Something about the way he knew her, in moments he can’t quite connect, like an outsider watching his own life recontextualized.  

I think this was one of the scenes I liked the most that chapter as well as the one scene i had to rewrite the most (my poor beta reader TT)

so essentially the setting is just "mom and son come to Hajin for help" but I really wanted to expand on Hajin's general wistful vibes and the pain he's been dealing with over his parents literally the entire novel

Aria isn't his mom. I didn't really want to just say "she looks exactly like his mom" even thought it kinda comes a cross that way? a little? but its moreso Hajin searching for any small similarities Aria might share with his mom, being nostalgic about what he is now missing

he is taking her bare features and actions and applying his own history on it. trying to grieve in the only way he's able to

Fundamentally, she is someone she knows and yet doesn't. He is watching his childhood through the lens of someone else's.

His mother has been fundamentally dead since the beginning. He will never see her again, never hug her or hold her hand or collect her ashes. he wishes he could though.

something about his mother. something about all mothers. in the gentleness of a brushing hand and the pain of worried tears.

Sorry, I have a Complex about my mother and projected, whoops.

Anyways, yeah, i just liked writing that scene even if it was probably needlessly vague and also too specific.

I HAVE EARNED FORGIVENESS!!! yippeee!

[luckybyrdrobyn]

Okay, start of something I might actually write at some point if it gets enough love:

Rated T for swearing and horror

Sam had been working with the Magnus institute in artefact storage for long enough that most things others would find creepy or worrying barely phase them. They had seen snow globes that sent the viewer spiralling like a snowflake for eternity, and a wooden doll that always seemed to have a different face when you looked at. Hell, there was a whole section dedicated to different cursed books that were a death sentence to read.

So it wasn’t too surprising when the man cam crashing down from what was presumably the ceiling, although it was currently closer to what a child might describe as a wormhole. The man lay still face-down on the floor, salt and pepper hair fanned out around his head like a dusty halo. Upon further inspection, Sam determined that, yes, he was still breathing and should probably be woken before anything went wrong.

Any other day they might have been apprehensive about interacting with a potentially dangerous individual, but there was something about the clearly handmade sweater and old jeans that eased any worries.

The man stirred slowly, lifting his head and blinking.

80 pairs of eyes blinked in tandem.

And then the man was groaning and carefully pulling himself to his feet, cursing something along the lines of “heaven a late paths smith the viral.”

If Sam had looked back up they would have seen the maw on the ceiling slowly blink closed as the man began to dust himself off.

“Hello, that was quite a fall you had there, you doing okay? Any pain?”

The man finally seemed to notice Sam as they spoke, and gave a brief shake of his head before wincing slightly. Sam debated their options before calmly trying to find out how this person hand landed themselves (literally) in the middle of artefact storage.

“If you don’t mind, who are you? Are you here to give a statement? The archives are further down I’m afraid.”

The man looked around for a second as if he was aware of his location for the first time before turning his eyes back to Sam.

And they were back.

They weren’t eyes in the sense that a collection of human eyeballs were floating around the man’s head, but closer to the drawn eyes one would see in context of a children’s book or a conspiracy theorist’s notes. There were thousands of these 2d eyes watching him, now blinking individually so the oppressive feeling of being seen never lifted.

The man spoke, his voice had a static whir to it that reminded Sam of old movie tapes.

“I am the Archive.”

And then the man, the archive, was gone. Between one blink and the next Sam found themselves once again alone.

[dykeyote]

💔 + 🎥 for tpo or rgu (or both!!)

also maybe 📜 for rgu cause i’m trying to get into it

i assume u mean tpp bc idk what else tpo would be tho i may be being stupid ...... so i will do both bc i like to talk >:)

one of my least favorite characters from penumbra and why: oh god i really cannot stand mick mercury . i really cant . i just really dont like himbo characters or anything adjacent ..... unless its handled INSANELY well or in a really new and compelling way i just Do not like cis guy characters where the whole thing is that theyre like incompetent and dumb and thats their main thing and often feels like their Only thing i just Do not like it they immediately get on my nerves and i dont like his voice either so whenever hes on the show i am Displeased ...... theres interesting aspects to him and idk i get why people like him i suppose but i cannot stand him . at all . he just is like the biggest example of a trope i really hate </3

one of my least favorite characters from rgu and why: this ones tricky because like .... i like most of the characters that dont do awful shit . like i can be like "oh i hate akio" and ur gonna be like yeah duh ......

fav scene from penumbra: i did this a while ago in this post but ill also throw in one that i forgot which is that i do quite like juno and cassandra's interactions in murderous mask also .... its quite entertaining and puts an interesting lens on both characters . and also theyre both really fucking funny

fav scene from rgu: okay like.... there are many INSANELY good scenes in rgu . so beautiful so cool so fucking thought provoking it is an AMAZING show . however ngl the scene i think and talk the most abt (i literally was talking abt this to my friend the other day who was thinking abt watching it) is the goddamn scene in the dub (idk what its like in the sub i havent seen it i might after i finish watching the dub thru bc i struggle w paying attntion to captions) where they like . show this like triple angle shot of utena and all the girls are staring at her with heart eyes and shit and then they go in the silliest fucking anime dub voice "Shes So Cool" when it is so obvious that they all want to say shes smoking hot and they need her rn . love that scene . i think abt it all the time . its so funny . why would u censor the lesbians of ohtori academy which is apparently all the girls ever

plotline of rgu and what kind of media it is: revolutionary girl utena is a late 90s anime that was heavily influential on the anime that came later and on animation in general (: the plot surrounds utena tenjou, a teenage girl (ish . her relationship to gender is VERY complex and she is at the very least clearly butch to me . bigender utena 4eva) who wants to be a prince and who is sort of unintentionally drawn into a duel for (among other things) the hand of the rose bride, anthy himemiya, a teenage girl with some magical capacities who is treated more as an object than a person by those who want to win her. utena wins the duel, and continues to have to defend her spot as champion despite not particularly Wanting anthy to treat her as her owner and bride-to-be. things obviously spiral down and get way more complicated from there but thats the basic synopsis of the beginning without spoiling later stuff (: (and obligatory warning for anyone intrigued by that that it gets very heavy later on check the warnings ideally on smt besides does the dog die bc there is a Large amnt and imo the does the dog die doesnt really cover them properly or explicitly explain how intrinsically tied to the narrative some of said warnings Are)

[evilmagician430]

u know what fuck it *posts my venturiantale warrior cats*

uh this is just the acachalla immediate family + maddie though i will post the pie cats when i've drawn all of them

i fucking LOVE designing warriorcats with stupid design motifs and shit and i love turning characters that already exist from something i like into the type of character in something else i like. this is one of those things in life that keep me relatively sane

"lore":

blazestar is the clan leader but her warrior name was blazepool ^_^ i only mention this because when i came up with her name i thought it was soo pretty then i remembered if shes the clan leader she has 2 have the suffix -star. so the nice name i came up with went out teh window entirely. she became clan leader after the former leader and his deputy DIED in the same night due to a mysterious incident. nobody rlly cared though rip bozos. time 4 milf power. the medicine cat literally had a vision about how blazepool needs 2 be the new clan leader. thats how they decided so suddenly after that night in... garry'sclan...

missingfur is literally an old man he needs to stop killing people over territory boundaries but he doesnt have any other pastimes since he doesnt have any good stories or even ticks

pigeonfoot is the medicine cat and hes billy if you cant tell. i think all my designs r pretty obvious though so whatever. he knows everything awful that is going on but hes so dumn he forgets it instantly after starclan tells him. he caused a girl 2 spiral into insanity entirely on accident. he so cute i put little stars in his eyes because i thought that would be a fun idea for medcats 2 have stars in their eyes like how leaders r sometimes drawn with a star on their chest or forehead (like i did w blazestar..) i legit based his fur patterning and stuff off of a pigeon because again. cuteness points. the vm influence is deep under my skin like scarabs

BRIARFACE the little thing next 2 one of their ears is actually supposed 2 be a briar flower idk if you can see it. the token former kittypet. she used to live in a house but then she saw blazestar and missingfur on her patio one day and blazestar was like "what are your pronouns" and briarface (then some silly housecat name like uhh sweetums) was like. "she/they, i guess, but my housefolk have no way of knowing that, they just think im a tom" and blazestar was all like "if you join our clan we will call you by your preferred pronouns" and she was like folding missingfur's ears closed the whole time since he insisted on coming to the new recruit and wouldve been a bitch. and sweetums said "what?". and blazestar said "what." genuinely not understanding what they were not understanding. 2 weeks later she would become part of the family and be christened briarface because briar is like briar rose and it sounds pretty and face because they have distinctive facial patterning.

mapleclaw is the strongest toughest roughest prettiest girl in garry'sclan and she goe's two hell every night to get better at it. this isnt a secret though everybody knows and nobody minds. pigeonfoot found out from a vision and told everyone and they were like. cool. and he was like oh i guess its fine then. must not be that bad. like her venturiantale counterpart she also lost her entire original family when she was young to murder carried out by none other than JIMMY CASKET... a name that gets sillier the more i think about it. in this au or whatever his name is gravelblade. more on gravelblade later..

rustedpaw oh my god.. el gato ever. he also had all his remaining family die for unspecified reasons when he was quite young. blazestar finds him sitting pathetically in a pile of blood next to one or more of his family members corpsces. takes him home adopts him without question and apprentices him to gravelstep (gravelblade's non evil default form) but then he tries 2 kill missingfur in his sleep and #fails and blazestar is like!!! not my platonic babygirl guy best friend with tax benefits!! and they both decide 2 DIG A HOLE IN THE GROUND LIKE A FOXHOLE and make him live in there 4 being a foxheart (attempted murder). then he just lives there. screaming to be heard. sometimes a cat will stop by to talk with him out of pity or genuine interest. sometime it will be mapleclaw as she's also in charge of bringing him food. also gravelstep is bummed abt being out of an apprentice bht blazestar is like "Don't worry... youre still my fav deputy :)" and gravelstep says " i am your only deputy stop acting like its a superlative"

foxflower used to be a friend of pigeonfoot's who had like a big crush on him and was contantly teasing him, flirting with him and every1 thought they were going to become mates but pigeonfoot just wasnt into her like that. this was solidified when he became a medicine cat and foxflower was like. oh fuck now i REALLY cant have him. so instead she dedicated her life to evil. she still harasses pigeonfoot while hes working and in defense mode mapleclaw killed her early on. they forgot 2 bury her and she stood up and started talking and walking around again 24 hrs later. this was how they discovered every1 in garry'sclan or venturianclan or whatever im calling it has infinity lives..

because they exist purely 2 entertain starclan and nothing they do or that happens 2 them matterz. blazestar actually found this out while she was becoming leader but 4got 2 tell everyone ^_^;

gee whiz i did not realize how much text i would need to type out the lore i had in my head 4 these guys OOPS. guess i really am that deranged. i hope theres like a read more thing on this post when i put it up so this isnt like hell to scroll past everytime uhh goodnight!

[maroonmusings]

Despite Our Strife [r.p.]

Fandom: Julie & the Phantoms Pairing: Reggie x fem!reader Word count: 1.3k Warnings: overall hopeful but with angsty undertones, the rare use of third person on this blog

A/N: this was originally written with a female oc in mind, as it was supposed to be part of a fic that just never came to fruition. it's also me testing the waters to see if there are any jatp buds left here

“No. No you don’t.” Y/N immediately denied the boy’s confession, brows drawn together in concern as she lightly shook her head. “You can’t. Please.”

“That’s certainly not the reaction I was banking on.” Reggie dumbly pointed out, lips parted in what could only be described as a surprised confusion.

Y/N paid little attention to Reggie's reaction, however, too busy tumbling down her rabbit hole of thoughts. Her body moved on its own accord in a distressed pace that ran the length of the piano to the coffee table, and back again.

“I mean,” she started, a laugh that was void of any substance spilling past her lips before she could stop it. Her hands wrung together so tightly they could’ve become one. “How could something like this possibly work? You’re a ghost, and I'm not. We’re quite literally from two different worlds, Reggie.”

“I—I’m a little confused. Is the way I feel about you reciprocated or—” The bassist trailed off with a questioning lilt to his voice. He held up his index finger to signify his hopes for a pause in Y/N’s stressful spiral.

A breathy laugh suddenly escaped Y/N, finding her friend’s adorable obliviousness to be equally as cute as it was humorous. Tears pearled at her waterline when her pacing finally ceased. Reggie felt his heart pump harder in his chest when her eyes met his. The two gazed at each other with varying facets of fondness: Reggie, a perplexed yet hopeful fondness, and, for Y/N, a hopeless fondness that she knew would never go away. “Of course they are, Reg.”

“That’s such a relief!” Reggie couldn’t help but exclaim, drawing a soft chuckle from Y/N as well as a playful eye roll. He drew nearer to her, both subconsciously drawing in a breath at their close proximity. His voice lessened in volume as he drank in the girl who’d deliciously plagued his every thought since their first meeting. “So what’s the problem?”

“What isn’t the problem?” She retorted, her clear devastation over the issue withholding any heat from exploding in her delivery. Noticing Reggie's brows beginning to furrow once more, she elaborated. “There are so many uncontrollable factors that’ll stand in our way if we tried to be together.”

“Like what?”

“Well, no one other than the band can see you, for starters.” Y/N reminded, a tear cascading down her cheek as she spoke the impossible hurdle into existence. “What’ll we do about dates, or literally anything that requires us to be out in public together?”

“I’m sure we can come up with some fun date ideas that are garage-friendly!” Reggie said optimistically, catching her tear with his thumb. He brought his hands to rub her upper arms comfortingly. An almost whimsical smile was painted on his pink lips. “Think about it, Y/N. We can make this place our little sanctuary. Well, when the band isn’t already using it for practice, that is.”

“Reggie, I don’t think you understand.” The girl pointed out patiently with a soft shake of her head. “I can't keep my feelings for you contained in this garage. If i’m going to be with you, I’d want to scream about it from the rooftops. When I leave class and go to my locker, you’ll already be there waiting for me. and I can just pull you into the biggest hug and talk to you without anyone thinking that I'm looking at thin air. I want to take turns finding different restaurants that we can try together, one star or five. We can go on these wild adventures together that’ll be a pain in the ass to share with friends because we’ll either have too many stories to tell or be laughing too hard to get through them. When I smile, I want people to know that I'm not smiling at thin air, but at you, Reg—the sweetest, funniest, most talented, most beautiful person I've ever met. I want them to see you the same way I do.”

It was a wonder Y/N was able to finish verbalizing her train of thought, for an incessant stream of tears was flooding from her eyes by the end. Reggie was in a similar state, but an awestruck grin still nipped at his rosy cheeks. He tugged the girl before him into a warm embrace, where she took a moment to cry into his chest. The boy felt his tank top dampen within an instant, but couldn’t find anything in him to be upset over it.

“We can find a way to fix this. I’m sure there’s a way to make us visible to lifers.” Reggie reassured, swaying her body in tandem with his and stroking her hair. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head for good measure. “We can ask around and see if any other ghosts can help! Preferably ones that are smarter than us.”

“Reggie, you know how that went last time!” She cried, clutching onto his shirt to tug their bodies closer together. The mere thought of the boy before her getting himself into a caleb-level risk again terrified her. Tucking her face into his neck, she felt his shoulders slump, and knew that his mind traveled to the same destination as hers. “So, no. no magic. No evil, hundred-year old magicians. No nothing. I'm not letting you die again just to be with me.”

“You’re absolutely right. We just need to be more cautious of the company we keep.” He conceded with a soft nod that had his chin grazing her cheek.

When she removed herself from his chest, and her glassy, red eyes found his, all Reggie could see was discombobulating beauty. Another weak, half-hearted laugh escaped her as she forced a watery, incredulous grin. “Even if we were careful, you’re always going to be a teenager, Reggie.”

The boy in question was a little slower to uncover the necessity for her remark on his age. “What do you mean?”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Y/N averted her gaze to the floor. “You’ve stopped aging, sure, but I haven’t. I don’t want to, but i’m gonna be forced to move on without you, Reg. There is no graduating high school and moving in together during our college years for us. No growing old together. Our relationship has an expiration date, and I just know that I’m not going to be able to let you go when the clock hits zero.”

“So, don’t,” came Reggie's rapid response, hands reaching for Y/N’s. She sniffled as their eyes met again. “I mean, you saw what happened when you and Julie were finally able to touch me and the guys. Ever since you hugged me after seeing it work for Luke and Julie, I’ve felt stronger than I ever had when I was still alive. Hell, I’ve felt alive. That has to count for something, has to mean something. We’re so close, Y/N, I can feel it.”

Her lips parted and closed multiple times, before she was able to shakily convey what was on her mind. “I—I don’t want to lose you.”

“And you won’t.” He immediately reassured, hands clutching tighter to hers and bringing his forehead to hers. Their soft gaze that they shared was troubled yet determined. “If you think that I’m going to let you slip through my fingers so easily, you’re as crazy as Star Wars when they killed off Han.”

Y/N huffed out a small laugh, rolling her eyes affectionately at Reggie. A breathtaking grin attacked his face at the sound. She couldn’t help but smile back, even if it was laced with minuscule traces of concern.

Reggie's eyes softened, hands trailing from hers and up to her shoulders. He squeezed them gently, keeping his forehead on hers. “We’ll figure this out, you and me. I’ll do anything if it means getting to come home to you every night.”

Y/N pulled Reggie closer, and, as their lips met in a gentle, yet passionate, embrace, she knew that he was right. She would follow Reggie every step of the way, because that’s what you do when you’re in love.

[avecra]

Deception - 3

series summary: In order to save your father from an unnecessary fight, you force yourself into an arranged marriage with Brock Rumlow. But when he threatens your father over a small mistake on your part, you find yourself in front of your husband’s biggest rival and your old friend, Bucky Barnes. With the shared history between the two of you, Bucky finds himself drawn to you once again, and will risk everything he has just to keep you safe.

pairing: mob!bucky x stark!reader

word count: 4.5k 

chapter warnings: canon level violence (in flashback), angst, bucky being a sweetheart

series masterlist // next chapter

Bucky Barnes had lived an interesting life. Being the firstborn to George and Winnifred Barnes, being the older brother to Rebecca Barnes, being the heir to his father’s company. Even after the sudden passing of his father, and the company falling into his hands, interesting events never ceased. 

From the age of nineteen, Bucky had one goal in life, and that was to be the best. Be the best when it comes to schoolwork, be the best when it comes to sports, and be the best when it comes to life. That was his father’s motto, and now it was his. 

Even as a young boy, Bucky knew that he would have to take on the responsibilities that his father held, it was inevitable. Despite what he initially thought when he was a teenager, he took on the reins surprisingly easily. 

With the partnership and mentorship of Tony Stark, he took over and covered for his late father and built an empire from scraps. Built a club where he handled his business. Built borders and signed treaties. Built partnerships and created enemies. 

Alexander Pierce was his main adversary. The head of Hydra was a big one, but after Pierce’s untimely death, Brock Rumlow took his place. And he proved himself to be quite literally the biggest pain in Bucky’s back. 

Rumlow had been on his ass for nearly the past seven years. Considering him and Bucky were pretty close in age, it was a rivalry that never ended - not until one of them ended in a body bag. 

Whereas Bucky relied on his men and cared about their wellbeing, Rumlow did not. He could care less if Rollins caught a bullet in the forehead, or if Ward was run down by an enemy driving a black Escalade. 

That was the difference between the two men; Rumlow’s men just worked for him, Bucky’s felt like his family. They may have been in the same dark business, but there was a visible difference between the two men. 

Stepping into the dark club, Bucky ran a hand through his hair, wincing at the small knots his fingers caught. He shook off his black blazer and threw it over the back of a velvet chair and sank down onto a stool at the bar, reaching over the counter to grab a bottle of vodka. 

“You have to pay for that, y’know.”

Bucky twisted off the cap and poured the clear liquor into a glass. 

“Not if I own the club.” he replied, taking a slow sip. 

He looked over across the bar, rolling his eyes at Sam Wilson, one his most trusted and close friends. He glanced down at his watch, noticing the time was nearing seven.

“You think she’ll show up?”

Bucky heaved out a sigh, leaning his elbows on the bartop. “Yes. She sounded distressed on the phone yesterday, and I’ve known her for most of my life. It’s just a matter of her sneaking out.”

Sam hummed, taking a glance around the club. The dark lighting made it nearly impossible for anyone to see anything, but Sam spent nearly every day and night in the bar. He glanced back at Bucky, curiously cocking his head. 

But before he could say anything, Bucky abruptly stood up, throwing back his vodka before sliding off the stool. He looked over to Sam, giving him a tight-lipped smile. 

“Just send her in when she gets here.” 

He didn’t spare a look to his friend as he made his way up the spiral staircase towards his office. Shutting the door, Bucky sank down in the chair and pulled his phone out of his pocket, placing it upwards on the desk. 

He tapped the screen a few times, hoping to see a message from you, but his screen came up empty, just the screensaver of his dog when she was a pup. A tired sigh left his lips and he dragged his hand down his face, blue eyes roaming over his desk until they settled on the picture of the two of you. 

Bucky plucked the picture frame off where it sat and held it in his hands, and the corners of his mouth lifted it up slightly. It was a picture of the two of you leaning against each other, your arm wrapped around his bicep as you leaned your head against his shoulder. 

His eyes drifted down to the fresh scar that was just below your left temple, and he had almost an identical one, except his was below his right eye. Bucky bit his lip, furrowing his brows as he recalled the memory that left him petrified for almost a month. 

A piercing ringing sound was the only thing Bucky heard when he came to. Opening his eyes, he blinked his eyes to get rid of the blurriness to see the back of the limo completely wrecked; windows cracked, shards of glass covering the floors, the two backpacks filled with clothing that were now scattered everywhere. 

Bucky glanced around fumbling for his phone, and when he saw you on the other side of the limo, his heart nearly bursted out of his chest. Sprawled on your side with your head resting at an awkward angle, your eyes were shut and the side of your face was coated in crimson from the bleeding gash on your temple. 

“Y-Y/n?” Bucky’s voice nearly broke as he crawled over to you, carefully placing your head in his lap. “C’mon, open your eyes. Please, we gotta get to the safehouse, Y/n/n.” 

Your head lolled against his lap and Bucky looked through the partition to see the driver’s head laid back. Panic settled into his veins as he pulled out his phone , fingers trembling and all, and dialed his father’s number, shakily holding the phone to his ear. 

His hand shook as it found purchase on your face, eyes wide as his father answered on the other line. 

“James? What’s wrong-”

“Dad, I - fuck… I don’t know who hit us, but we’re stranded on the side of the road,” Bucky said, looking through the cracked window to see a stranded black SUV with a dented bumper and cracked headlights. “There’s a black car across the road.” 

“Are you and Y/n okay?” George asked, and Bucky heard the crack in his father’s voice, something he hardly heard. 

His father was a stoic man and had only seen him tear up a few times, but this was a whole new situation. One where his son and the daughter of his closest friend’s life were in danger. His tough facade slowly cracked as he heard his son’s fearful voice. 

“No, Y/n she’s…” he looked down and swallowed thickly. You hadn’t moved an inch, and that made him worry even more. “Dad, her head is bleeding a lot, and she’s not waking up.” 

“Okay, okay, don’t panic. Hayes and I are on the way to you guys, just give us a couple of minutes, son.” 

There was a muffled conversation on the other end, but Bucky could only focus on you, on the limpness of your body. He shakily held his fingers to your neck, sighing in relief when he felt the faint pulse. 

“Is there anyone around you? Any movement from the car?” 

Bucky reluctantly moved his eyes from you to the black car, focusing on the dented bumper. There was a slight movement that caught his eye; the passenger door struggled to open, and it wasn’t until a loud banging sound came from inside the car. 

“You just hit Barnes’ car! The car that is holding his son, are you out of your fucking mind?!”

Bucky sunk lower, shielding your body with his as he watched two men stagger out of the car. The two continued to bicker with each other and Bucky watched with fearful eyes as one pulled a gun out from the waistband of his pants.

“There’s two guys that just came out of the car arguing,” he whispered into the receiver. “One of them has a gun.”

The two men continued to bicker loudly, waving their hands and arms dramatically, but Bucky could only focus on you. 

“We’re getting closer, just hang tight for a little while longer, James.”

His father’s voice was nothing but a murmur, but he muttered a ‘uh-uh’ back. He was too concentrated on you, noticing how your eyelids began to flutter. A small, quiet whine passed through your dry chapped lips, and Bucky held his breath, moving to cradle your face in his bloodied hands. 

“Y/n/n… can you hear me?” he kept his voice low, anxiously glancing between you and the two men. “C’mon, baby, wake up for me.” He whipped his head to the side, seeing one of the men look towards the direction of the limo.

The man began to take a few steps forward, and Bucky found himself reaching for the gun that was hidden under the seats, leaning over your body to shield you. He ducked just below the window, keeping his eyes locked on the two men. 

Bucky gripped the pistol in his hand, fingers hovering just above the trigger, but before he could bring the weapon to the window, the sudden horn of a car went off, beeping like crazy as a black Escalade came hurtling towards the two men, barely stopping within an inch of them. 

He faintly caught the glimpse of one of his father’s men tearing himself from the driver's seat to land several kicks and punches to the two men. 

Breathing a sigh of relief, Bucky moved to open the door, kicking it open when it wouldn’t budge. The door flung open, bits and pieces of glass falling onto the asphalt below, and Bucky slid his hands under your arms, lifting you up against his chest and pulled you out of the car, gently placing you on the ground. 

He still held your head in his lap, cerulean eyes wide with fear. The adrenaline was dying down, and he didn’t hear the faint rumble of footsteps bounding towards him. 

“James!” He looked up, seeing his father stand just above, who pulled open the door to the backseat. “Come on, son, we gotta get movin’!” 

Bucky nodded and slipped his hands underneath your knees and shoulders, lifting you into his arms. He rose on shaky legs and ran as fast as he could, sliding you into the backseat of the car, keeping his palm flat against the back of your head. 

He wasted no time as he hoisted himself up, slamming the backseat door. Glancing up at the front seat, he made eye contact with his father in the rear view mirror, and only then did he get a glimpse of his face. 

A cut under his eye that bled onto his cheek, several nicks and tears covered his face from forehead to chin. There was a forming lump on his temple, one he presumed he got when his head hit the door from the collision. 

“What the hell happened?” George asked, turning around when Hayes put the vehicle in motion.

Bucky carefully placed your head in his lap and sunk into the leather cushions, leaning down to take the tissue box that laid on the bottom of the car floor and dabbed away the mess of blood and dirt on your face. 

“I-I don’t know, we were just driving , there were no other cars on the road - and then they just hit us from the side. We crashed into the side barrier… I-I don’t remember much, I think I blacked out for a few minutes,” he said, glancing down at you. An incoherent mumble passed through your lips, and Bucky held your face gingerly, sweeping his thumb over the mess of cuts on your cheeks. 

“Call Stark and tell him to meet us at the house near the shipping warehouse. Tell him to bring Banner, Y/n and James need medical attention.” George said to Hayes, but Bucky blocked them out. 

You moved your head slightly, leaning into his touch as your eyelids began to flutter open. Bucky held his breath as your eyes cracked open, darting around the roof of the car before they settled on face, darting around until you found his eyes. Your hand fisted his pullover as you mumbled, “what happened?” 

“We got hit, but we’re okay. Your dad is gonna meet us at the house with Dr. Banner, it’s gonna be okay.” Bucky whispered, leaning down to press his forehead against yours. 

“You’re bleeding,” He cracked a smile, though it was forced. 

Even when you were concussed and dazed, you still were concerned for him. 

“I’m okay, sweet girl, I promise. This is nothing,” he said softly, gesturing to his face. He continued to dab away the dried blood on your cheek. “We’ll get cleaned up, the both of us, don’t you worry a pretty hair on your head. We’ll be okay,”

You faintly nodded and leaned further into his hands, you closed your eyes and faintly grabbed his wrist, holding onto him for the remainder of the car ride, until you arrived at the safehouse. 

“Hi.”

Bucky shot his head up, eyes wide as he looked over at your figure as you stood a few feet in front of his desk. His eyes raked over your form, smiling at your ripped jeans and ratted old sweatshirt from high school. He placed the picture frame back down.

“S-sorry, I knocked but there wasn't an answer, and I wasn’t sure if you were in here - the man in the front, Sam I think, told me you’d be in here.”

“No, you’re fine,” Bucky said, the corners of his mouth lifting up slightly. In all honesty, he didn’t expect to see you so soon, he figured you would have to lie just to get out of the penthouse. “I wasn’t expecting you so soon, if I’m being completely honest.”

You chuckled nervously, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, you shifted nervously in the worn out sneakers on your feet, unsure of how to approach him. 

Instead, you looked around his office, eyes darting from the bookshelf to the couch tucked away in the corner and to his desk, where you saw a jar of blue sour belts, the ones the two of you used to snack on in Romania. 

“I see you still love those sour candies, huh?” you said, pointing to the jar. Bucky chuckled and nodded, opening the lid to take one out. He offered one to you, but you politely declined. 

“What can I do for you, Y/n?” 

You swallowed thickly, gripping the ends of your sleeves tightly in your grasp. Your eyes darted to the floor for a moment, and you felt the deep feeling of shame seep into your bones. To ask him something when you haven’t had contact with him in almost six years. 

“I, uh, I-” You took a deep breath in, shakily exhaling. “I know this is a lot to ask, and I know I have no right asking…”

“But?”

His eyes held no malice, no resentment, not hatred. Just worry. 

“He threatened my dad, and I know he has been causing trouble for you and your men,” you said shakily, scratching at the faded scar below your temple. Bucky sat up straighter in his chair, his brows furrowing. 

You took in the expression on his face, and a wave of anxiety passed through you. What were you trying to ask of him exactly? To kill your husband? To kill your husband’s men? There was no version that would make you look innocent. 

If you asked this of Bucky, it would make you no better than him. The man you despise, and hate with all of your being. You would be just the same. Your mind taunted you, relentlessly and aimlessly until you forgot what you were trying to ask of him.

“You know,” you started, clearing your impossibly dry throat. Tears began to prick your eyes. “I-I don’t even know what I came here to say. I’m sorry to waste your time, James. I.. I’m sorry.” 

You reached for the door handle and zoomed out of his office, shame welled into you and you felt your face heat up as you hurriedly made your way down the black staircase, down to the bar. 

You saw Sam talking with a red haired woman, and he looked over at you, catching you in his peripheral vision. He offered you a toothy smile, but it quickly fell when he took in your distressed state. 

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, smoothing your hair down against your shoulders, sparing the two a glance. You were about to tell them to have a good night, but the sound of loud, stomping footsteps caused you to look up. 

You could see Bucky practically sprint down the stairs, and you were surprised his foot didn’t get caught on a step. You stood, feet frozen in place as he caught up to you, blue eyes widened, his hair just slightly out of place. 

“Please don’t go, not yet. Just-” His voice sounded desperate, like he was scared for you to leave. He took a steady breath in. “Let me get you something to drink, and we can talk in private, okay?”

His hands found purchase on your shoulders, and you felt his fingertips press into your muscle. He looked at you with a serious expression and you nodded as he slid his hands down from your shoulders to your hands, tenderly gripping your hands.

“Okay,” You allowed him to lead you back up the stairs and into his office, all the way to the soft couch. He grabbed a cup from the cart that stood in the corner and poured you a glass of water and squeezed a lemon into the cup. 

You nodded at him and took a sip, watching him as he took a seat next to you. He sat, patiently waiting for you to initiate the conversation, sitting back against the cushions. 

“I don’t know how to word it without sounding horrible. Without me sounding like a horrible person,” you said as you placed the glass on the coffee table. 

“Just take a deep breath, and say what you’re thinking.”

You hated the fact that after all these years, all these years with no contact, no text or call to see how he was doing, Bucky still spoke to you and treated you with a respect that Brock had never shown you. 

You could stab him in the back, and he would still do as you asked. 

“Brock threatened my dad,” you started slowly, gauging his reaction. “He told me that he would kill him, and he’s falling back on the marital agreement.” Bucky nodded. “I know his business has been down because…” Your eyes darted nervously to him. 

But Bucky merely chuckled and shrugged innocently. “What can I say, he’s a major pain in my ass.”

“If I give you information about everything, like his bank records, or where he has his monthly meetings, or anything for the matter, you could… you could stop him, right?” you asked hopefully. 

Bucky nodded, eyebrows furrowing in concentration. You wanted to sink into the cushions and vanish without a thought. Seeing him knit his brows in deep concentration, anxiety filled your gut to the brink. 

“I overheard one of his men say that your partners have been stopping his weapon shipments, so he’s losing money and losing business partners. That means he’s on his remaining legs, which makes him vulnerable, right?”

You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth, nervously awaiting his response. You were expecting him to say no and turn you away, to push you away because of your request. This is a stupid idea, this is a selfish idea. I’m a selfish person. 

But when he placed his hand on your knee, squeezing gently to bring you away from your inner thoughts, he looked at you with a small smile, one that could light up a dark room. 

“How will I know that you’ll be okay in the end?” he responded with a gentle tone as his eyes gazed into yours. His hand traveled from your knee to your hand, and he squeezed your fingers softly. “If I do this, how will I know that you will be okay and safe from harm?”

His voice held nothing but worry and concern for you, he had to bite the inside of his cheek just to resist the urge to cup your cheek. 

“It would kill me if something happened to you because of my actions. If he hurts you in any way because of what I did, I wouldn’t know how to carry on.” Bucky whispered, eyes darting over your eyes. 

“I could stay at home when it happens. That way he won’t be suspicious of me and you won’t have to worry about my safety,” you explained slowly, hoping that he would agree with you. 

His hand cupped your cheek, thumb tenderly swiping under the growing circles under your eyes and he whispered, “I always worry about you.”

You watched him, how his eyes raked over your face, between your eyes, occasionally flickering up to the scar. His fingers delicately traced over the long faded mark. 

“If I agree to this, promise me you won’t intervene in any way.” Bucky said, his voice steady and strong. “It’ll kill me if anything happens to you. Just… just promise me that you’ll tell me the moment he gets suspicious, and please promise me that you’ll leave if he hurts you.”

He looked at you with despair, his hands slid down to lightly grasp your jaw, his fingers delicately tracing the column on your throat. He traced the outline of your windpipe, eyes boring into yours. 

“I promise.” you whispered and you reached up and grasped his wrists. It was only then that you saw the colorful tattoo ink that peeked out from his clothed arm. 

Bucky nodded, blowing out a tense breath. He released your face from his gentle hold, and as you mindlessly sipped your water, he tore a piece of paper from a notebook and scribbled his something. He folded the paper as small as he could and pushed it into the pocket of your jeans. 

“You bring everything to me when you can, okay? If you have to sneak around just to get it, please don’t. Do it when no one’s around, or when he’s out in a meeting.”

You nodded, allowing him to pull you up from the couch. His hands were warm against your cold ones, and you swallowed back a gasp as he tenderly pressed a kiss against your forehead. 

“When this is all over, I’m gonna show you how you deserve to be treated.” he whispered against your skin, twirling a strand of hair in his finger. 

You felt a feeling flutter in your stomach; one you hadn’t felt in years. The way he held your face, how he brushed his fingers through your hair, the gentle hold on your hands. Your own husband only held you with a malice clutch and a vice grip. Bucky held your hand as if you were the most precious, fragile thing in the world.

“I’ll have one of my men drive you home, okay? Scott Lang, also works for your old man, he can drive you back to the penthouse. It’ll make it seem like you were at your dad’s, okay?”

You nodded and allowed him to bring you down to the bar area. Sam and the red haired woman were nowhere to be seen, but you presumed them to be doing work. 

“Let me know when you get safely inside, okay?” Bucky said as he led you outside, where a man with a kind smile, dark hair and goofy demeanor stood. You nodded and took a step forward, towards the open door, but paused. 

Looking back, Bucky gave you an encouraging smile. “It’ll all be okay, sweet girl. I promise I'm gonna get you out of this, okay? I promise.” 

“I believe you… Bucky,” you said, offering him a smile before sitting down against the plush seats. Scott gently closed the door and nodded to his boss, who wore an ear-to-ear grin. 

Bucky stood on the sidewalk and watched the town car drive all the way to the end of the street before turning. He sighed and stuffed his hands into his pockets, standing for a moment longer before he made his way into the club. 

--- 

“Where have you been?” Brock asked with raised brows, watching as you sauntered into the room. 

“I went to my dad’s office for a bit. I just wanted to see him for a few minutes.” you replied, taking off your sweatshirt. You slipped into your pajamas and looked over to him, eyes glancing down to the suitcase. “When do you leave?”

Brock disappeared into the closet, gathering shoes, socks, undershirts and boxers. You sat on your side of the bed, pulling your laptop onto your lap, swiping through your emails. 

“On Friday. Jet is scheduled to leave at around three.” he said, coming back into the room with a handful of clothes. “I wish you could come, darlin’, but it’s strictly business. Just a week of business, business, business.” 

You hummed in reply, sorting through your emails. 

“What are you gonna be up to?”

“Um, just a few dinners with my dad. Nothing else besides that,” you said, glancing over to him. He nodded and continued to fold his clothes and placed them into his suitcase. 

A new email popped up and you clicked on it, the corners of your mouth lifting up slightly as you read over the message. 

Y/n, 

Send all the files you are able to find and send them to Scott, I’ll link his email and contact information below. I swear on my father’s grave that I will get you out of this safely. It would kill me if I let anything happen to you, and I know for a fact that your father would absolutely murder me. Archive this message so he won’t see it. 

All things aside, please stay safe. And call me if anything escalates. Just hold on for a little while, Birdie. There’s a light at the end of the dark tunnel. 

Stay safe, sweet girl. I’ll see you soon. 

- J.B.B 

You closed your laptop and placed it on the small loveseat, aiming for your book instead. You dipped under the warm covers and opened to your bookmarked page, continuing your reading. 

You tried not to get your hopes up, tried not to get too excited, but you couldn’t help yourself. Crumbling your husband’s failing empire would take a lot of digging, but you knew where his weak points were. You knew how to crawl out of the darkened burrow.

And at the end of the tunnel, hopefully James would be waiting for you with open inviting arms.

---

tags 🏷 - @matchat3a @moonlightreader649 @boofy1998

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

The Ramshackle Ghosts, Neige, and Che’nya for the character bingo please and thank you!

Ramshackle Ghosts Character Opinion Bingo here!

Epel Character Opinion Bingo here!

***Standard disclaimer: These are just my personal opinions of the character(s); regardless of what I may think of them, sharing my thoughts is NOT meant to offend or to shame anyone that thinks differently.***

Chenya 😊 TWST’s far superior cat boy 💞

Even though he didn’t get much screen time, he made enough of a lasting impression that I’m left wanting more of him! I think his hair is kind of ugly, but it works well because of his plain clothes; your eyes are drawn to his little earrings and colorful patches on his pants, which really convey the character’s whimsy and his Disney inspiration. The drawl he speaks in is cute, too! It’s reminiscent of a cat’s meow, combined with the cryptic way the Cheshire Cat would purr out his riddles. AND THE FACT THAT HE SHOWS UP AS JUST A FLOATING HEAD AND THE REST OF HIS BODY INVISIBLE?????? BUT HE JUST USES THAT POWER TO SCREW WITH PEOPLE AND TO STEAL TARTS 🤣 That always made me laugh way more than Riddle showing up on cue whenver Ace is complaining about him. All in all, Chenya is quite charming for the little time he commands on screen!

Mmm... As much as I love him, I have to say that Chenya reads as a missed opportunity to me. He comes in episode 1 to point MC and co in the right direction (and then makes a few cameos later), but I’ve always wondered why Chenya himself didn’t say anything??????? Riddle is HIS childhood friend too, and Chenya seems to express an awareness that Riddle is slowly spiraling out of control, yet he doesn’t intervene again until the Unbirthday Party at the end. I get that maybe TWST was trying to make him all cryptic and hands-off like the Cheshire Cat was, but in a chapter where Ace was literally telling Trey off for not doing/not saying anything, it makes Chenya’s own inaction ring a little hollow. In-universe, I guess Chenya had to stay low on the radar to avoid NRC kids kicking his ass off of school grounds, but couldn’t he maybe contribute to the fight while he was invisible or something???

If Chenya were to return for a bigger role, I’d want TWST to expand on his friendship with Riddle and Trey. How do those two feel about Chenya going to their biggest rival school? What are Chenya’s thoughts on the way Riddle’s mom treats him? I want it to go deeper than the surface level stuff we got, because right now it seems like Chenya’s friendship with them is only predicated on how many of Trey’s pastries he can cram into his mouth and sneak off with. I always see so much cute fanart of the trio as kids having fun together, so I want the canon to feed us more about them in their youths, and how their relationship might have changed as they transitioned into adolescence. 

I mean.

Neige is... cute, I guess? 😅 But being “cute” alone has never really done it for me. He acts like a generically sweet and pure boy, which you’d think would endear me to him, but he lacks anything to differentiate him from other characters with similar personalities. I only enjoy him being cutesy when it is paired with the NRC boys (who are probably internally gagging at the positive energy he exudes). The stark contrast in Neige vs the NRC boys (especially Vil)... it’s really funny to watch unfold in their interactions!

As I’ve already said in my Vil Character Opinion Bingo, I don’t really care for celebrity characters. Still, if I had to pick between him and Vil, I much prefer Neige. I tend to have more of a soft spot for celebrities with “innocent” images over the ones that have “sexy” images, if that makes sense. Neige looks so cozy, and that sweater gives me kind of cottage core vibes, but with less pastels and woodsy colors and more brightness to the palette. Meanwhile, Vil just feels oppressive and cold, right down to the song he composed for VDC. I think the general consensus for the songs is that NRC should have won because Absolutely Beautiful was technically more impressive than Everybody, Yahoo! but asdhasyodaida I side with the audience on this one, there is value in the refreshing and calming nature of Neige’s performance. If VDC were a professional competition judged by experts in the field, then yeah, Vil and co should have won--but I totally understand why Neige and the dwarves won based on general audience appeal.

There isn’t that much for me to say about canon Neige, but a fanon depiction of him that I really like is that asdhlbasdibadba HE’S SECRETLY A HARDCORE VIL STAN AND JUST WANTS HIS SENPAI TO NOTICE HIM....................... It’s clear that Neige is friendly to Vil in the game, but it doesn’t really extend past professional admiration or in any deep or meaningful way. It’s funnier for me to think of Neige being so wide-eyed at Vil while Vil hates his guts but still has to be nice to him for the sake of his career 🤣 also just think of Rook third-wheeling-- Another depiction of Neige that I think is really interesting is???? Bratty evil gremlin Neige???? Which is really based on some fans thinking that he’s way too nice to not have a hidden devious side. I don’t think that he’s actually evil, but because it contrasts so much with his innocent looks, I’m willing to entertain the idea 🤣 Imagine Neige acting all nice to Vil’s face while he knows that he’s actually getting under Vil’s skin and he’s relishing in that fact??? There’s a lot of possibilities for expanding on Neige~

[tutuandscoot]

A very good day to everyone but especially to Mr Scott having the time of his fucking life during MR practices (feat. Tessa):

Part 2.

*I’m going in chronological order of the practice- not the program

1. Scott singing the lyrics ‘just don’t deceive me’ then checking with Tessa where they will start again from by gesturing her flicking his hands away.

2. They circle round again and I just can’t with that sweet lil face he makes on the change in the music.. his beautiful soft eyes and this feeling of joy and freedom. Also the way he lingers, hanging onto her pinky till the last second. I freaking love the way he gives her his hands to brush away. You can’t tell from this angle but he really has to cross his hands over to be in the right position for her coz she’s in front (down stage) of him which for no reason at all I just love even more. He gets close to her and gives her his hands which I hear in my head as him saying “there you go”. I don’t know why I love it.. I think it’s just their connection to the choreography and each other and the exquisite detail of how their movement quality changes with the changes in their character and the story.. I just love it and I can stare at it for ages (if you don’t have a thing for their hands then what are you even doing here???). Also, with these long sleeve mesh costumes it just makes all their hand touches and interactions so much more intimate- they have less skin to touch and play with so just the quality and sensitivity every time they touch hands or he touches her back it’s magnified 1000 times.

3. This moment where they hit their arabesque perfectly but he kinda just throws it away as well. His lines were always beautiful but this season and this program- especially as they got closer to the olys he found this extension in his hands that made his beautiful lines even more beautiful- so even as he throws it away he is still stretching right to the ends of his finger tips. Then he cuts in front of her to cradle her face, then kinda looks away like ‘Jeez T, you’re perfect and I’m just so happy right now’, as he pats her cheek. When they break there’s just this attitude from him that’s like confidence and happiness combined but not in a cocky way- in a ‘This is all I ever dreamed of’ way. Being with his favourite person and just dancing together coz they love it and love each other and are literally savouring every moment of it because they are so wise and at this point have fully realised themselves as artists and athletes and it really feels like they are just having so much fun. I’m so glad they enjoyed this whole thing and didn’t let bullshit judging situations or the media affect them. They just wanted to have their moments and create memories only they will share forever- always be able to carry this joy they created for each other in their hearts for the rest of their lives.

4. This moment where it seemed like they decided last minute to practice this part straight after the curve lift. Watching this recently just before this gif as they stroke around, I think T notices all the other teams have left and she says “we have the rink to ourselves”. The way they go into that synchronised coupé turn then extent their arms. The breath, expanse, radiating joy (especially Scott)- knowing they’re the only ones on the ice. The way he chases after her and she turns into him- the elasticity between them when they are separated (even a tiny bit) then drawn back together so seamlessly. There’s never, ever a moment you think they are gonna hit their skates together even though they are so ridiculously close.

5. On the spiral how they don’t quite join their back hands and seemingly BOTH of them are unapologetically singing their hearts out. At this point they were the only ones of the ice and while it’s not as tho they don’t take up the whole arena every time they practice- they could literally do that in a rare practice with no one else on the ice. They just look like they are flying and smiling so big Scott’s eyebrows are nearly in his hair! Thinking about this moment from a physics POV, coz they don’t join their back hands it’s like he is swinging Tessa around the corner and god that must’ve felt so freeing!

Bonus! (Post run through):

They go back and do their stat. lift without music. His expression as he circles her. He’s just taking her in and examining every little part of her before he sends her out on stage. He has this menacing look but also this underlying leering vibe which is quite unsettling. Thinking about this it’s like she’s in a cage and there’s nowhere for her to hide- he can see her from every angle. There’s moments all throughout this program where is like he’s yelling at her, just that mouth movement and it’s always so perfectly timed to fit with the exact choreography- there’s a few times in the circle sequence- eg right before his twizzle before they start the short diagonal on the bridge in the music. I love that I feel that- like he’s yelling at her or singing to her because it makes me feel like I’m not just watching an ice dance program, I’m watching a play- real actors. There isn’t any verbalisation but I know exactly what they are saying.

As he stops her, there’s that way that he puts her arms down that’s very unsettling. So much tension in his hands there’s literally no gentle/comforting touch in that contact. I remember Tessa posting on IG some of her notes of this and one of them was ‘connect to the feeling of being controlled’. She had to change her mindset and the way she received his touch which normally is so loving and soft, to sinister and controlling. She had to be a little scared of it and react to it in a different way. She couldn’t just do the choreography, she had to feel what that felt like and recognise it as being controlled with no agency of her own. That’s so insanely deep and the amount of commitment that would take from both of them. It’s not just playing characters and putting on facial expressions, for them they redesigned their touch of each other for each moment of this program so the other could connect to those feelings. I don’t know if it would work if she just pretended she was feeling controlled without him doing it with the right touch that would make her feel that anxiety and fear. I think it had to be a marriage and they would both have to commit everytime to providing that for the other. If one day she wasn’t feeling controlled, would she tell him and he would maybe talk to her in character, saying horrible, demonising things to her to get her in that mindset and as she heard and accepted that she could let herself feel that difference his touch. Probably improvising movement as well so both of them could reset that feeling of controlling/controlled, treating it not just as set choreography but as if they were actors and they were having this struggle. They would practice that over and over to get the perfect balance of being gone in their characters that they could put aside that they didn’t want to be doing or saying this to each other as T&S, but as their characters it’s ok and it’s where they need to be to portray it correctly, but still with enough awareness that they are doing everything technically right. All that is just mind boggling thinking that they went to that much detail and hardly anyone will ever know, but they cared about it that much and didn’t just want to put this program out there, on one level, just skating the choreography- it’s what they did with it and how they lived it in their bodies and connected to all those feeling so they could train themselves down to the lightest touch on each other. And this is only talking about maybe 8-16 counts of choreography out of a 4 minute program, where that all would change multiple times throughout it!

First minor thing I love about this moment is when they throw their heads up and their eyes are just staring lasers- but in different ways. T is shooting them out and it’s like she is actually being possessed by him. It’s like she is a puppet but with all this fierce, feminine energy. And then his. I think at this point I’ve made it clear I’m obsessed with is eyes- so what I feel like his doing here is the opposite, he goes inwards and you see that very subtle ‘anxiety’ as he described feeling in that moment. You can’t see his mouth but though is eyes you get the slightest hint of a smile. Like, ‘my puppet is awake, now watch me control her’. I feel like that’s where they differ the slightest bit in their approaches to performing- Tessa goes out but Scott goes in. They can both do the opposite as well but in small moments like this where there is nothing happening but you still see the character in their eyes . She has that incredible ability to perform out and grab people and draw them back into her, where as Scott abandons a bit more and rather than reaching out and pulling us in, he manages to suck us in. And together with that we see their performance from their POV and in their heads the way they see it, from that very intimate place- it hasn’t been pushed out to the boards and that’s as far as it goes, we get drawn into them.

Something else I love that I didn’t notice till I saw the upstage-right angle. Is as Tessa does her shudder, as she finishes, you see Scott do kinda the same thing with his arm, like an involuntary reaction to her. This is the smallest little thing but it’s so important to me coz it kinda confirms what I said above about how connected they are and how they have designed every one of their interactions for this program. That he felt HER shudder in HIS OWN nervous system so as to involuntary feel her same reaction. Seriously, it’s crazy. The first time I saw it I watched it on repeat like 20 times. That’s not his choreography- it’s hers and it’s not like he was mimicking her, it was him feeling her energy in himself and reacting to that same.. kinda.. shot of electricity. Like he doesn’t even make it look like choreography- it’s completely a nerve reaction. Like when you’re falling asleep and you get one of those involuntary twitches. I know I shouldn’t be freaking out about this but it’s like, I always say they have magic and yet I don’t believe in magic but it’s stuff like this that just shows they are so connected beyond believe..

BONUS BONUS!

(I couldn’t not include this moment)

As crazy as this sounds, it is another one of those moments where, it’s like he’s just giving himself to her. Like wherever she wants to be on him, he’s there for her. He senses her coming to him and goes there to meet her, wherever she would like to be. I don’t know why. I just hear it in my head as ‘there you go T, I’m here’. He’s obviously not trying to kiss her, it’s that they are just so close and so pressed against each other that’s what happens. He doesn’t deliberately kiss her but he also doesn’t deliberately move out of the way to give her space. She’s happy there hanging onto him so he’s 110% there. That’s what I love when they are so close, and sometimes even closer there’s never this reaction like, oh whoops, got a bit close. They are happy having each other that close in their space and are open to any kind of contact or impromptu moments. I think that’s what adds to their intimacy is that they don’t deliberately in their programs choreograph it to be that close, that’s where they are happiest so it just happens naturally and it’s to the point where being that close doesn’t hinder the execution of any choreography. They don’t worry if something like this doesn’t happen the same way every time.

So this little moment in terms of the choreography in the program. To me this is like, in the Roxanne part it’s like she was fighting to survive, and as soon as they finish the lift his demeanour to her completely changes and from there until this moment- or up to starting the diagonal, all the movement is him supporting her, placing her in different positions with so much gentleness, making sure she’s ok and nursing any injuries, making sure she stays on her feet. So this moment comes right after the spin and they changed it to a little twist catch and as they keep turning around he very gently places her back on the ice. He’s just totally there for her to hang onto, not wanting to put her down with any force. She wants to hold his head into her and cling to him, she doesn’t want to let go so that’s what he gives her. That thing that happens with his mouth - not that he’s trying to kiss her, but I’ve said in another post how the skin on your lips is so sensitive and receptive to touch and temperature, it’s so crazily intimate coz he’s not doing it on purpose, but still accepts that it happens and takes it as a very brief moment to show crazy deep intimacy with her. Even tho it was accidental they use every moment they have contact with each other to keep that communication and reassurance for each other. Always that soft and caring quality.

[neoculturetravesty]

Friday evening

Image adapted from here.

Pairing: Taeyong x Reader Genre: smut, pwp, romance, established relationship Warnings: 18+, oral (male receiving), protected sex, reader is a slight party girl with a bit of an innocence kink, riding, swallowing. Taeyong is sad because he’s been put on a break with an injured back and somehow seeing him this vulnerable is turning you on. Word Count: 4739

Summary: Taeyong has always, always put your pleasure first. It’s not that he does it out of learned, respectful responsibility; it’s because he needs to put your pleasure first or he would go crazy. So the poor boy doesn’t know what to do with himself now that he’s out of commission with an injured back and you’re the one that’s, erm, taking care of him.

A/N: Basically just pure filth and also my first attempt at smut. I also don’t have a proofreader, so pardon my oversights. Here goes nothing.

To say that your Friday evenings have changed a lot over the years would be an understatement. When you were younger, all you wanted to do at the end of a tough week was to get out and drink to your heart’s content. You’d stay out all night, sometimes even passing out in places that were most definitely not home. You had staked your claim in every club the city had to offer; you had never met a drink you didn’t like; there had never been a party you weren’t invited to.

So the fact that you were here now--splayed out over your couch with your boyfriend draped over you, his head resting on your belly while you lazily watched Netflix--was quite frankly absurd. If your other friends saw you here, choosing to stay in on a Friday night, they would think you were going through some kind of crisis. But you weren’t going through a crisis. You were just in love.

You were in love with a boy who was so incredibly, sweetly, and disgustingly domestic, you had no choice but to be soft for him. It came as a surprise to you at first--the fact that he was as domestic as he was. When you had first met him and found out who he was, you were convinced that he had to be, quite frankly, the fuckboy type. Taeyong was incredibly handsome, for starters, but also people would tell him he was handsome, and he got told this multiple times a day. Add to that the nature of his job, and girls, boys and everyone in between would throw themselves at him. You had met him through work while he had his idol and leader persona on. He was intense, he was charismatic, he worked the room like he owned it. So of course, you had thought, he had to be a fuckboy. It’s what made you approach him in the first place.

But on your first date, he cooked for you, couldn’t meet your eyes the entire time, and blushed and giggled every time you complimented his food; and all your assumptions were put to rest. You soon discovered that the poor boy didn’t know much outside of his work. The confidence, the charisma, the strength in his posture--it was all for the cameras. When the lights were off, you found that he was completely the opposite. What threw you off most of all was how sweet he was and how incredibly pure he was. He had had girlfriends before, that much he admitted, yet you had a way of knowing that he was way more innocent than he led on. 

You didn’t think you were the kind that would be into that sort of thing--the pure, good boy types. But you found yourself drawn to him and it surprised you. You were so used to flings with fuckboys where the both of you knew you were in it for a good time, not a long time. Maybe a part of you finally wanted the long time though you didn’t know it yet.

So when Taeyong had taken your hand one day and asked you to be his girlfriend, you had found yourself at a loss for words. He had looked at you with such hopeful sincerity in his doe eyes that it had almost frightened you. No one had ever looked at you like that. You had never been anyone’s girlfriend before. So you had answered “I guess...?” which was perhaps not the smartest response, but now you were glad you’d been dumb. Because it led you here, almost a year later with the boy you loved cuddling into your belly on the couch.

The two of you had been laying like this all afternoon and had gone through too many episodes of Money Heist without moving. But moments like these were so rare with Taeyong’s schedule and your own work that you dare not move an inch. You kept hugging onto the empty popcorn bowl while Taeyong lazily rubbed his hands up and down your sides, his cheek pressing into your tummy, his head almost buried under his favorite black blanket while he looked at the screen. When yet another episode ends, you reach over to stroke his hair “Aren’t you hungry?” you ask.

He shakes his head as he yawns “Nope. Are you? I could cook you something.” He says, lifting his head up to look at you. 

“But you’re hurt. I don’t want you to move.” You retort, rubbing the back of his neck. Your poor boyfriend had quite literally worked his back off till it physically gave up. He worked even when it hurt, he worked even when he limped. When he couldn’t move at all, is when he allowed himself a break. That’s what your first fight had been about--you yelling at him that he needs to take it easy and him telling you that you just don’t understand. You had ever since reminded yourself to be more patient with him. Taeyong, you found, was a fixer. He always felt like he needed to be there for his team, for his family, for you, so much so that he would run himself down no matter what it did to him. So the fact that he was here now, forced to take a break, was eating him up from the inside. You could tell.

“I’m tired of staying still.” He whines, buying his face into your tummy. It makes you chuckle and you hold his head closer.

“My poor baby.” You say and suddenly, the urge to take care of him overwhelms you. You look down at him as he hugs your middle, his usually wide shoulders curving in to make him seem smaller. He looked so helpless, so vulnerable and so broken, and that image made heat build in your core. ‘Fuck, I am going to hell.’ you thought as you felt the throb between your legs. It was fucked up, the fact that your boyfriend being helpless and hurt was suddenly turning you on. You start to wonder what was wrong with you. Why did his purity, his good heart, his innocence, and right now, his vulnerability stir something so carnal in you? You were going to hell for sure. 

‘He’s hurt, he’s hurt, he’s hurt.’ You tell yourself over and over like a mantra to stop yourself from having sinful, unvirtuous thoughts about him, but you must have been tugging the hair on the back of his head a bit too tight because he suddenly looks up at you. Like he could feel the air shift. He holds your gaze as he gently pushes the hem of your shirt up, just enough to reveal a sliver of belly and lands a tender kiss on the exposed skin. His big, warm hands delicately reach into your sides under your shirt and he bows his head and kisses your skin like worship. You look down at him with wonder as you hold his head like you were guiding him, and he was all too eager to be led. This boy had always been a giver. He knew right away that you wanted him and his first instinct had been to take care of you. You allow yourself to be venerated by his lips like that for a moment, melting back into the cushions as his kisses leave a trail till he licks a stripe just below your navel, drawing a moan out of you, somehow bringing you back to your senses. Only a little.

“Taeyong, you’re hurt.” you remind him, but it’s a weak reminder. You’re saying it just to say it because your body is brazen. He must have felt the insincerity in your tone because he doesn’t stop. His long, dexterous fingers move to the fly of your jeans, unbuttoning them and landing a kiss right on your pubic bone, over the thin fabric of your underwear. You inhale as you feel goosebumps prickling your skin from pleasure and for a moment, you think it’s okay to be this selfish. It’s okay to have your pure, guileless, obliging boyfriend worship your body even though he was hurt because the things he was doing to you… it would be more wrong of you to stop this reverence of unbounded desire. You were going to hell anyway, might as well be with an angel between your legs. 

But Taeyong hooks his index finger in the band of your underwear and pulls it down, lifting himself up to place another kiss when you hear him gasp “Ahh!” and it serves as a cruel, literal eye opener. Because your eyes actually snap open and the haze of sinful bliss surrounding you dissipates and you realize just how selfish you’re being. 

“Taeyong!” You sit up abruptly, watching the grimace on his face. You get off the couch and kneel next to him as he buries his face in the cushions, groaning. “Does it hurt a lot?” You ask, placing a gentle hand to his back, not daring to apply any amount of pressure. You lean in and press a kiss on his hurt.

Presumably, when the sting has subsided, he looks at you again and says “No, no… it doesn’t hurt… come back here.” He reaches a hand to the back of your head and pulls you in but it’s breaking your heart. You know he wants to make you feel good; he has almost a riotous need to keep you satisfied because that’s what keeps him going, that’s what validates him. The fact that he can’t would eat him up till he spirals and loses his mind. ‘Wouldn’t that be nice.’ The evil part of you thinks as the image of a more vulnerable Taeyong, a more broken Taeyong takes over your mind and you feel the needy heat build even greater under the undone fly of your pants. ‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’ You think to yourself in horror as this salacious, immoral image and what it has done to your core actually puts you to shame. Internally, you’re burying your face in your hands just like Taeyong was burying his face in the cushions. 

You take a deep breath to steady yourself. For once, you had to put a leash on your libido. Your boyfriend was hurt and you needed to be a good girlfriend. “We can do this when you’re better.” You say, rubbing your palm on his back, then stroking his head.

“But I want you now. Don’t you want me?” He asks with such uncertainty and you can tell he’s being the wicked one now because he knows what this tone does to you. Especially when he looks at you with eyes that drip honey. He knows he has you wrapped around his little finger in this moment because he keeps pouting. Taeyong would always have you putty in his beautiful hands and talented tongue. He loved making you feel good, he got off on making you feel good. You had pretty much been living your best life since you met him because you were finally with a man that cared more about your pleasure than his own. So of course, you wanted him. But not like this. 

“Come here.” You say to him gently, arranging the pillows around him and helping him flip over on his back so he was much more stable. Taeyong sighs, defeated in his expression, thinking he has lost this battle when you place a hand on his chest and lean over him to kiss him on the lips. You kneel by the side of the couch, hovering over him as he lays, cupping his face in your palms. Soon your fingers find their way to the base of his neck and you’re tugging at his hair again. You roll your tongue against his lips and into his willing mouth, kissing him with desire. He lays obediently as you pull back but looks at you in confusion, like he’s not sure if you’re giving up or giving in. You kiss into the crook of his neck, gently suckling on his sweet skin there and he moans out. You smile because you don’t have to look to know that his cock has twitched in his pants. 

You lean over his face, bringing the pad of your thumb to his bottom lip, gently stroking it as you talk “Do you want me?” you ask, your tone low and sultry, wanting to hear his sweet voice before you unleashed yourself on his body. His lips part and he’s panting when he nods his head “I want you.” he sighs in a soft voice. So you get up and carefully place yourself between his legs as he lays, ensuring not to shift the weight on the couch too much that it makes his back uncomfortable. You lift his shirt up just a little bit and kiss the skin of his belly, continuing from where you had left off, except the roles are reversed. But while you were laying back and taking in the sensation, Taeyong is confused; turned on but confused, like he doesn’t know what you’re doing to him. 

You meet his befuddled eyes, see him propped up on his elbows to look at you move, almost as if you were doing something perverse, something you weren’t supposed to do. So you give him a wicked smile and undo the button of his fly, just as he had done and press a kiss on top of his boxers. Your hands rub up into his chest “Lay back, sweetie.” You say lovingly as you slowly, teasingly start pulling the band of his boxers down, taking your time with it, putting on a show. Taeyong’s eyes are wide and his belly is pleasurably uneasy. He wasn’t used to this, simply because he never gave you enough time to reciprocate. He liked feeling a strange sense of control that came with the familiarity of being between your legs, giving you enough pleasure that you forgot your own name. He knew that process by heart. But this. This didn’t happen very often, but you were determined tonight, it seemed. He didn’t complain, even if he laid back with a sense of uncertainty because not knowing what would happen was distressing and thrilling at the same time.

You finally pull his boxers down enough to expose his semi-hardness and smile, running your hands down his sides just as he had done to yours, lifting his shirt up a little bit more. You look down at him brazenly, admiring his bare manhood, smiling at him. “My baby is pretty all over.” you say, making him close his eyes, head falling back into the pillows as he suppresses a moan. The image gives you a violent sort of hunger, like you wanted to own him, rail him till he saw stars.

You hold his length, pressing it into his belly with your palm before you finally lower your head and press your lips to his base. You feel him twitch under you at the same time you hear him let out a shaky moan, like he was feeling too much pleasure than he wanted to show.

“Let me hear your sweet voice, baby.” you encourage him and press more kisses to his balls, slowly rubbing circles with your thumb on his sensitive tip. You’ve swept your hair to one side and you hum into the kisses before the need to taste him tastes over. So you part your lips and let your tongue swipe him as you pucker, making him hiss out in pleasure. You gently start sucking then, rolling your tongue over and over, taking your time with it. You were in no rush. The two of you had all night. 

You gently start rubbing the underside of his growing length with your palm, almost massaging it, little beads of precum dripping onto his belly. You look up at Taeyong through your lashes and find his head thrown back, eyes closed, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallows. He looked like an angel. So you start to kiss up his length, on the sensitive underside, little moans escaping your mouth as well and Taeyong can barely breathe. It feels forbidden to him, laying here like this as you pleasure him but he has to admit that it is a sweet form of torture and he wants it as much as he doesn’t. 

Your lips finally find his leaking tip. You stop, just so he’d look at you, giving you a chance to hold his gaze when you kiss it, a sweet, unassuming press of the lips, nothing more. But it has the effect you wanted because it draws a gurgled, almost pained moan out of him. 

“Fuck!” he all but yells out. And that’s all you needed to hear before you wrap your lips around it and start sucking. You take your time, swirling your tongue around, tasting his saline lust in your mouth while your hand takes care of the rest of his length, all the way to the base, softly stroking, massaging. It wasn’t often that Taeyong let this go on for this long. Usually, by this time, he would have lifted you to your feet into a kiss before he went back to his insatiable need to put you on pleasure’s end, making love to you like it was the only thing he was born to do. It took him hurting his back to keep him in place like this, and that wicked part of you is almost thankful for it.

Your mouth has picked up the pace, built a rhythm and the deviant sounds of your spit swirling in your mouth around his flesh fill the room. Suddenly, you hold yourself in place, placing your palms carefully on his thighs and relaxing your jaw before you slowly start easing his length into you inch by inch. You hadn’t done this in a while and certainly not with Taeyong, which is why the poor boy has almost sat up in bewilderment, eyes wild as he looks down at your feverish desire for him. 

“Oh God, Y/N…” he sounds like he’s underwater, like his breath is caught in his throat and you would have stopped if his hand didn’t go to your hair, holding you in place, telling you otherwise. So you keep going lower, never minding the slobber that drools out of you inelegantly and anoints him. You wanted him inside you like this, all the way in your throat where he’d never been, and you were going to make it happen. 

“Fuck, baby, fuck…” he’s whimpering now, moaning like it was too much and you almost take mercy on him. Almost. But you were so close now and you wanted him to be in the deepest parts of you because it was him. It was Taeyong, the boy who took your heart and broke down your walls and taught you what it was like to be loved without condition. You wanted to give him every part of you, good and bad. In this moment, you decide that you will love him with the same fervent worship that he loves you. That you would pleasure him with the same passionate devotion he pleasures you. And that you would stay by his side for as long as he would have you. It was strange, having this epiphany whilst his cock was lodged all the way in your throat.

You come up then, wiping your chin on the back of your hand and move up with the sudden hunger to kiss him. The riot in your chest has changed to something else, perhaps a feral craving, like you needed to hold this boy down and have him and drive him wild so he was whimpering, sobbing, begging for repentance. You needed him to be bare for you in a way he had never been exposed to anyone before.

So you kiss him deep, kiss him like a promise, vowing all you had thought in your head with your lips before he’s even had a chance to say something. He has noticed your energy shift because his arms are around you, holding you to him protectively, even though you dare not put your entire weight on him. You pull back to look at him and he sees such tempestuous emotion on your face that it makes him worry.

“Baby--” he begins but you cut him off.

“--I want you inside of me.” you announce and lean in to kiss him briefly, mostly so he wouldn’t protest or sit up or take over. You pull back and arrange the cushions around him once more, making sure that he is well and truly secure. You reach into the couch and pull out a condom that you always had stashed in there just in case. He looks at you tenderly and combs your hair away from your face with his fingers and you rip the foil open and carefully roll it down his length. When he is nice and wrapped, you bring your hands to the hem of your shirt because you want to give him a full view. He helps you take it off along with your pants and you position yourself on top of him, aligning him to yourself. You lean over to peck him on the lips.

“Tell me if it hurts, okay?” you tell him and he holds your hips, nodding as he helps you sink down onto him. Truth be told, he wouldn’t stop this even if it hurt him because this was Taeyong’s personal heaven. You place your hands on his chest and begin rolling your hips, setting a slow, sensual, torturous rhythm that has Taeyong seeing stars. Soon, your moans and gasps are harmonizing and you think that this is perfect. This is where you belong. You were made for each other. You were born for each other. You wanted him in ways you had never wanted anyone before. 

You look at him as you sink down fully, feeling him deep and full and you squeeze around him as you lift back up. You don’t pick up the pace, not yet. You just want to see this boy losing his mind as you stroked him with your wet warmth, squeezing him, building his rapture more than he could bear. 

Taeyong’s hiding away, and for a moment you wonder if it is because he’s ashamed of feeling this amount of pleasure. He has one forearm thrown over his eyes and the sounds that escape him are trembling keens, like he’s in pain, like he’s being tortured. Every now and then, his breath hitches in his throat and he trembles all over.

So you move his arm and lean over him, taking his face in your palms and kissing his lips. “Look at me, baby.” you whisper at him and he obliges. You kiss the side of his face, over and over, lovingly, almost chastely but your hips are lewd against his, and he doesn’t know what to think anymore.

“I love you, Taeyong. So much. Did you know that?” You say to him, right in his ear as your hips start to make quick work of his shaft. You have him putty, you can see it and for a while, there is victory in your smile. You have him where you wanted him because he’s barely present anymore. All he can feel is your sinfully sweet warmth holding him prisoner and he’s lightheaded. He feels nothing but euphoria, he smells nothing but your scent clouding his senses, he hears nothing but your moans, ringing in his ears like incantations. 

You want him this way, crazed and gone, but the desire to have your name on his pretty lips when you’ve stripped him this bare is strong. So you grab his hair in a stronghold to bring him back, placing your lips close to his. “Say my name, baby.”

“Y/N…” he says in a broken cry and holds your hips as he starts thrusting up into you but you stop him. You know he is close, you know he wants an end to this overstimulation, but you finally have him where he seldom lets you have him. And you want to savour it, have this moment be yours for as long as you wanted.

“Tell me you love me. Tell me you need me.” you know it in your heart but you want to hear it. Hear it when he is most vulnerable. Hear your name from his lips like a prayer when he comes undone. You’re going all out on him now, moving your hips against him like there was no tomorrow.

“Fuckkk, Y/N, I love you! I need you! I need you so much it drives me crazy. I need you, I need you… fuck, baby I’m going to come…” his eyes are closing, the words are coming out of him strained, and you watch victoriously. Like you’ve finally pulled the confession you wanted out of your criminal after sweet, prolonged torture. You make him look at you.

“Ahhh fuck, Y/N…” his yell ends in a croak, and you halt your movements, climbing off of him to take him in your hand, pulling the condom off and pumping him quick while your mouth sucks on the tip, tasting yourself on him. His hips buck into you involuntarily as he holds your hair, saying your name over and over like you wanted, spilling his seed into your willing mouth. He watches with amazement as you swallow everything he gives you, pumping him with your hand fast into your wanton mouth. 

He slumps back when he’s done and you’re on top of him, kissing him with your dirty mouth. The poor boy looks too worked out to kiss you back with much presence. So you smile and let him be for a moment so you could clean up. You bring him back a wet towel and a fresh pair of boxers. You begin attending to him, softly cleaning him up and for once in your relationship, he is too spent to protest. He lets you care for him. Usually, he was the one who would do this after sex, but here he lies, too injured, too blissed out, too exhausted. So he lets his girlfriend take care of him and if he were being honest with himself, it felt nice to be looked after like that. It made him feel safe, like deserved the love he was receiving. He lets his eyes droop and drifts off for a moment till he feels your weight behind him, your arms encircling him, holding his wide back to your chest. He feels your swollen lips in the spot at the back of his ear and he hums sleepily. 

Maybe you’re in the sweet afterglow of sex but you feel warm and full and whole and loved with your boyfriend in your arms. “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything.” You tell him softly in his ear and Taeyong melts. He believes the words you tell him, almost like he’s hearing them, really hearing them for the first time. He wants to say so much back but all he can manage is a hum deep in his chest and you feel the reverberation before you hear the sound and it makes you smile. 

Maybe when he wakes up, he would tell you how much you meant to him. How thankful he was that you had given him your heart. How you had stuck by him even when his love and passion for you seemed to suffocate you. He finally believed that you wanted to keep him with just as much severity as he wanted you. So he let himself be held as he drifted off in the arms of the woman he loved, wishing that being surrounded in her scent would help him dream of her, too.

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