#i just want to be make sure i'm clear that

[gloomwitchwrites]

Hey 😊👋 I love your Task Force 141 Imagines and finally had the courage to request one myself:

How would they react to the trend where their partner makes dinner but gives them the bigger portion and gives themselves only a small one with the excuse that "That's all we had left" ?

(I hope you understand what I mean)

I'm about 99.9% sure you're talking about the viral TikTok trend. That's what I interpreted the ask as (which is how I wrote it). Most of the time, those videos are pretty wholesome. Sometimes they aren't. But with regards to 141, they're gonna be wholesome about it. No body shaming. Not dismissive. Just walking green flags who are also done with your shit (because pranking them is just hilarious). Anyway! Enjoy!!!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, pranks & practical jokes, humor, fluff, married couple, mild suggestive themes

Word Count: 1k

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

"Love, what is that?"

"That's all we had left."

"That's all we had left?" repeats John.

You shrug nonchalantly. There's plenty of food, enough for each of you and leftovers for tomorrow, but John doesn't need to know that...yet.

"It's fine,” you shrug. “I'm not that hungry so I gave you a bigger portion."

John's concern only worsens. "You did what?"

"I wasn’t hungry so I—"

“I heard what you said,” interrupts John. He points at your plate. “But there’s nothing on it.”

“I’ll be fine.”

"No," he says firmly, waving his hand. "No."

Without asking, he swaps your plates.

"John. Stop."

"I'm not that hungry," he says, repeating your own words back at you. "Ate more than enough at work. I don't need all this. You do."

You reach for the plate but he lifts it off the table, holding it out of reach. Part of you wants to scold him to carry on the rouse, but instead you're giggling.

"Not sure what's funny,” grumbles John.

"There's more,” you laugh, covering your mouth.

"There's—” John glances between you and the kitchen. John rolls his eyes but he's trying to hold back a smile. “You naughty fucking thing."

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

You place a plate piled high with food in front of Kyle.

“Thanks, babe.” He glances up at you, grinning. His gaze shifts to your plate, smile fading into confusion. You purposely gave yourself less just to see his reaction.

“I forgot forks.” You walk back into the kitchen. “You want a fork, right?”

“Yeah,” replies Kyle slowly, now pointing at your plate. “But…what is that?”

You return to the table. “That’s all we had left.”

Lies. There’s plenty left.

“But why is mine full and yours—” He gestures at your plate.

You feign confusion. “You work really hard. You need it.”

“This,” says Kyle pointing at his own plate. “Is a lot.” He then points at your plate. “That’s not.”

“It’s fine.”

“You’re taking some of mine.”

“Kyle—”

“Don’t argue with me.”

You pick up your fork, intending to eat, but Kyle is quick, snatching your plate right off the table and swapping it with his. He keeps your plate in his hand, shoving you away when you try to reach for it.

“Sit,” he commands.

“Kyle.”

He ignores you, clearing the plate in a couple of bites.

“Kyle,” you scold, but you’re giggling, dropping the guise.

“Why are you laughing?” he asks, glancing around.

Unable to keep control of your composure, you point in the direction of the kitchen. Frowning, Kyle follows your index finger. He takes a few steps into the kitchen and comes to a dead stop.

He slowly spins on his heel, his expression so exasperated that you burst out laughing. With a loud sigh, Kyle returns to the table, swapping the empty plate for the full one.

Dropping into his seat, Kyle shakes his head. “Get yourself a real portion and then come join me.” Then, with a smirk, “You little terror.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny reclines on the sofa, completely absorbed in the rugby match on the television.

With you, is dinner. Two plates, one for each of you. You’ve loaded Johnny’s plate, but have hardly filled yours. It’s just a prank. A test to see if he notices anything.

He has a knack for not paying attention to the smaller details. Sometimes Johnny is so distracted whenever there is a game on that he's oblivious to everything else around him. One time—just to see—you walked around completely naked. It took nearly a full fifteen minutes for him to realize it.

You casually take a seat next to him, offering Johnny his plate.

"Thank you," he says, taking it without removing his gaze from the television.

You keep your plate in your lap, casually moving the few bites of food around while taking incredibly small bites.

Johnny chews. Watches. Still oblivious to your tiny portion.

You purposefully bang your fork against the side of the plate.

He does a double take. "What’s that?"

"What’s what?"

"That.”

You shrug. "It’s all we had left."

With a growl that’s more groan, Johnny starts pushing his food off his plate and onto yours.

"Johnny. No. That's your food." He tuts, not saying anything. "I'm fine." you insist, trying to push his plate away.

“No, love,” says Johnny. He settles back onto the sofa and gives your cheek a quick peck.

You wait a beat. "There's plenty of food."

Johnny turns. Blinks. "Oh, aye?" He grabs your plate and dumps the food back on his.

"Johnny!"

"You’re having a right laugh.” He gestures toward the kitchen. “Go on.”

As you stand, he gives your ass a light smack. When you turn to swat his hand, you’re greeted with his cheeky grin.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

The plate you set before Simon is nearly overflowing.

"Thank you, love," he murmurs, placing his hand at your back.

You lean in, giving him a quick kiss. He accepts it with a soft smile, lightly squeezing your thigh before you step away to grab your own plate.

Compared to Simon’s portion, your plate is practically empty. It’s really only a few bites, but it’s just for kicks. There is plenty still left in the kitchen. You just want to fuck with Simon.

When you set your plate down and fall into your seat, Simon’s attention immediately focuses in on the lack of sustenance.

He leans forward a bit, staring you down, silent.

“What?” you ask, pretending that this is all perfectly normal.

He keeps staring.

“What is it?” you prompt.

“No.”

No. Just—no.

You blink. "No? No what?”

Simon sucks his fork clean and tosses it onto the table, still shaking his head. You’re losing. It’s hardly started and you’ve lost.

“It’s all that’s left!”

He shakes his finger at you, walking away and into the kitchen. “I know you,” he says over his shoulder. “You’re taking the piss.”

Goddamn it.

Simon sees right through you. Always does.

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[perpetuallyfive]

God, I'm so happy with what they did with Maddie Nolen.

I'm sure there will be plenty of people mad because obviously there was a weird backlash over a character who has sex with one half a ship, so I'm sure some people worry this will lead those people to feel justified in their initial response.

But ignoring people who can't emotionally regulate for a second, because those childish impulses aren't worth dictating the fun things a narrative can do: Maddie is SO INTERESTING as a character and she fills in a lot of the questions people seemed to have about the rest of the season.

Consider for a moment that it wasn't Caitlyn who convinced Vi to be an Enforcer. It was Maddie.

I know that some people took this line to be about Zaunites, a sort of obvious connection to the very racist idea of "one of the good ones," but since Maddie is talking about Marcus and his betrayal of the Enforcers just before this, I'm pretty sure her framing here is something else. The point she's making is specifically targeted at Vi's own beliefs and weaknesses, her desire to protect. That seems clear to me now with all we know about Maddie's capacity for manipulation.

She's not saying, "You're good, for a poor."

She's saying, "Wow, I agree with you, the Enforcers are really bad; it's so upsetting. I think you might be the only one who can change it, but only if you join us." This is what convinces Vi to do something she never thought she would.

Well, this and the fact that Caitlyn believes in her so much which, again, is information she gets fed to her directly from Maddie. It even seems like Maddie seeks her out just to say this, which on first viewing felt oddly convenient. Wow, Vi just happens to meet this naive girl who just happens to say exactly what she needs to hear to do something so out of character.

Except obviously none of it was coincidence. Everyone already knew how much Vi meant to Caitlyn and getting Caitlyn under control would require either controlling Vi or removing her from the equation. This was a push in that direction.

Then there's her more obvious role as the spy in Caitlyn's bed, there to reassure her that the Noxians are only trying to keep all of them safe. Then when Caitlyn expresses larger doubts, she's immediately ready to lay out an alternative. You could just give up, Maddie seems to whisper gently in her ear. Just reestablish things as they were before.

But she knows Caitlyn isn't going to go for that. She's not going to go back to the council as it was, because it's only going to remind her of the empty place her mother left behind. Maddie knows that Caitlyn isn't going to take this offer, which is precisely why she suggests it. She frames quitting as the only clear alternative to going along with everything Ambessa wants because she knows that Caitlyn will refuse, which leads her right back into alignment with Ambessa. She makes continued obedience into an active choice that Caitlyn affirms she's making.

Even Maddie's comments that suggest direct opposition to Ambessa — "you're our leader... I follow you" — are designed to frame herself and her true leader in direct opposition, just as Ambessa's own warning about entanglements is there to further that point. They both make a point of reminding Caitlyn that they are her true ally, isolating her further from anyone who isn't the devil and (other) devil on her shoulders.

This way Maddie and Ambessa can both tug at Caitlyn, pulling in what feels to her like opposite directions, all so that she lands precisely where they wanted her all along but with the illusion of active agency.

And look, I'm not saying my read on her is gospel, because I think they intentionally gave us enough room to really speculate and wonder about her, someone who could have been just a background nothing character but ends up being such a huge part of the second season. That's so interesting!

I especially love that she comes across as really naive and innocent, just some poor little thing swept up in the fervor, when in reality she's a true believer who has been manipulating things to go her way from the start.

[siryouarebeingmocked]

Male violence towards women is not motivated by "hatred" towards women. That is an oversimplification.

On whose part?

Are you claiming that the feminists and anyone else who makes that claim is wrong, or are you saying I'm oversimplying what you think feminists really claim?

Because if it's the latter, it's not exactly rare for feminists to explicitly blame abuse on misogyny.

is motivated by toxic masculinity and men not being taught by society to express emotions in healthy and positive ways.

Domestic violence centers are regularly criticized by people who talk about men's issues for supposedly being biased in women's favor and against men.

And leaving that aside, the first link goes

The perception of men is then seen as dominating, aggressive, and unemotional.

A perception feminism itself strongly contributes to. It regularly and explicitly genders abuse.

When society puts so much pressure on men to behave in an unconnected way, sometimes men can begin to normalize power and control as perpetrators. They can also then ignore or not recognize when they are victimized by domestic violence because from an early age males are taught to believe they should be able to handle physical and emotional abuse. Not having recognition of their own victimization can lead to non representation of male domestic violence victims.

Okay. How about the part where society goes "it's not REAL abuse when a woman does it?"

I feel the need to emphasize this, and be clear. Men are generally permitted to defend themselves from assault by other men. But much less so for women.

Men are more likely to be arrested and go to jail, even if they did not lay a finger on a female abuser, and were the one to call the cops. In many places, it's almost explicit police policy to assume the woman was "defending herself".

I have been in and seen extended discussions where people refused to admit a woman could actually pose a serious physical threat to a man, ever, and said anyone who discussed it was clearly just a sexist man who wanted an excuse to harm women.

Note that there were several women disagreeing in these discussions.

Apparently the idea that a woman could grab a weapon was a "hyper-specific edge case", even though I provided an example of a woman who stabbed her larger partner to death with a nail file.

That article is really missing - or ignoring - the single most important part about male victim erasure.

Strangely enough, when I see people discuss this issue in terms of "toxic masculinity", they seldom discuss the female privilege that leads to male abuse victims being erased,

I'm not sure why you thought this was supporting your case about "male violence against women".

Even if it wasn't just an opinion column.

Your second link's strapline says "Young men who subscribe to traditional ideals of manhood are more likely to sexually harass women and bully others."

And then it says,

The researchers surveyed 1,000 young men on their attitudes toward seven pillars of traditional manhood: self-sufficiency, toughness, physical attractiveness, rigid gender roles, heterosexuality and homophobia, hypersexuality, and aggression and control over women.

Except traditional masculinity is strongly against men sexually harassing women, and bullying.

Or hurting women even in self defense.

Also, the fact that you're equating "toxic masculinity" to "traditional, mainstream masculinity" does not actually make feminists look less misandric.

I spent almost my entire post talking about female abusers, and you conveniently managed to find two "sources" that, um, don't actually mention female abusers.

Not once.

I couldn't have said it better myself.

[kookooluvr]

Teach Me How To Love - Part 1

pairing: professor!jungkook x (fem) professor!reader, fwb to lovers

genre: fluff, angst, smut, fwb au, economicsprofessor!jungkook, politicalscienceprofessor!reader, slow burn, some emotional constipation, some sappy moments, lots of sexy moments.

rating: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !

warnings: fwb should be warning in itself, jungkook is a simp and a hot nerdy professor (yummm), oc has a tabby cat named miso, bam makes his first appearance, jungkook has a big ol' crush on oc, some unrequited romantic feelings (?) we're not sure yet, explicit sexual content; making out, kook has heart eyes for oc's boobs, five second strip show, like a split second of male masturbation, oral sex (male receiving), a teeny wheeny bit of fingering, oc rides that thang like a cowgirl, unprotected sex (oc is on birth control and they're both clean), plus some angsty vibes at the end :(((

word count: 3.5k

summary: jeon jungkook, a fellow professor at yonsei university, is your friend, co-worker, and secret bed buddy. you have rules set in place to make sure there are no misunderstandings in your little arrangement. the #1 rule is as clear as day; no catching feelings. simple, right? wrong. let's see how un-simple it gets when a certain economics professor falls for an emotionally unavailable political science professor.

author's note: part 1 is out my dudes !!! 😭😭 i hope you enjoy this little introduction to jungkook and oc, and i can't wait to start exploring their dynamic a little more in depth in the next parts!! i'm so excited to go on this journey with you all, so pls make sure to follow me, repost this story, and send me an ask if you want to chat about these cuties 🤪 part 2 coming soon !

find tmhtl masterlist here

It's the end of the day and Jungkook is on his way out, heading home after an exhausting day at the university. He walks down the corridor, his phone in hand, his eyes trained to his phone as he checks his emails.

You step out of your office, shutting the door and straightening your bag on your shoulder. You dig through it for your office keys, locking up once you find them. He looks up from his phone for a second and spots you, a smile tugging at his lips as he pockets his phone and walks over to you.

He leans against the wall next to your door, arms crossed, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “Hey,” he murmurs with a little grin.

“Hey, Kook,” you greet softly, walking away to head home, Jungkook peeling himself off the wall to walk next to you.

“Long day?” he asks with a sympathetic smile.

You love your job, really, you do. But some days are draining and dealing with young adults who don't even know how to reference their sources for an essay or spell parliament properly can actually drive you to drink. “Mm, thank God the day's over,” you chuckle, looking over at him as you walk down the stone walkway together, the sun slowly starting to set on campus.

He chuckles, looking over at you to catch the way the golden hour light casts a pretty yellowish-orange glow over your skin, his eyes quickly diverting down to the ground to stop himself from staring, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Hey, uhm...if you don't have any plans tonight, do you maybe wanna come over to my place?” he asks, feeling like an awkward teenager with a crush every time he asks you that, even if he's done it ten dozen times by now. He knows why he's inviting you over. You know why he's inviting you over.

“Yeah, sure,” you say casually, heading in the direction of the parking lot to get to your car. You see it in its usual parking spot, right next to his, just like it is every day, like a silent declaration that you're a package deal.

His heart really shouldn't do that weird thump-thump thing that it does every time you agree to come over, but it does, and it might just be heart disease, but he is yet to get it under control. “Cool...cool...Is 7 okay for you?” he asks, taking out his keys as he approaches his car, leaning against the driver's door with a little smile on his lips.

“Yeah, I'll just go home and change out of these clothes and feed Miso then I'll head over,” you murmur absentmindedly while you dig through your bag for your car keys, searching through the endless pit of earphones, a tangled phone charger, lip liner, lip gloss, and ten thousand receipts for things you don't even remember buying. He watches you with a faint smile, knowing how messy that bag is, but also knowing that if he lectures you about it, your response will be, 'you don't get it, you're not a woman' so he minds his business and stands by patiently.

“You can go, I'll manage,” you mumble, your eyebrows furrowed, a soft pout on your lips as you rummage through the leather bag. He chuckles and cocks his head to the side, finding it quite amusing. “You sure? I feel like I could find the cure for cancer before you find your keys in that thing.”

“You should quit teaching and go into comedy,” you mutter dryly, finally finding the damn keys. “Ha. Found it,” you quip, smiling sarcastically before unlocking the car. He shakes his head with a soft smile, rolling his eyes as he gets in his own car. He'll get you back for your sass, but he knows that his 'punishments’ feel more like a reward than anything else.

You go home and feed Miso, the grey tabby lounging around like she's the queen of your apartment, completely unbothered that you're only staying for a little while before eventually leaving again to get dicked down hang out with Jungkook. You put on some comfortable sweats and give her a few kisses and cuddles before heading over to Jungkook's place.

This is a regular thing for you guys. You remain professional at work, well, as professional as two people who are hooking up can be, and then you go over to his place, or vice versa, and sometimes there's wine, sometimes there's dinner, sometimes you go straight to the sexy part, or sometimes there's no sexy part at all because one of you just wants to talk or watch a movie. It works for you. It's easy. It feels good. Really good.

He's a good friend. He's kind, he's a good listener, and he's all those nice, sweet, lovely things. He's also really good in bed, which is always a bonus in a...friend.

Good friends offer to drive you home from the club when you've had one too many to drink. Good friends support you in times of need. Good friends go down on you until your legs shake. That's just how it is.

"Slow down, you're gonna choke," he chuckles, watching you stuff your face with Indian takeout. It's like a competitive sport when the two of you eat dinner, which is one of the things you like most about hanging out with Jungkook. There is no pressure to be perfect. You can act the way you really want to and not feel scrutinized for it. Maybe it's just because his big fat crush has completely tinted the way he sees you, but he'd happily watch you pig out if it means he gets to spend time alone with you.

“I thought you like it when I choke a little bit,” you tease, just wanting to get a reaction out of him, and that's exactly what you get. He nearly chokes on his food, his cheeks flushed, his eyes wide as he looks over at you.

“Jesus Christ, y/n, you can't just say stuff like that,” he coughs, trying to compose himself, roughly clearing his throat to not die via chicken biryani. It’s quite a strange thing how he can go from this to a sex god in bed, not that it's anything for you to complain about.

Jungkook does the dishes after dinner which allows you to enjoy some alone time with Bam. The brown doberman plops down on the couch, practically begging to be cuddled. He’s always been quite fond of you, since Jungkook adopted him three years ago. He’s the sweetest boy. He loves being loved on, much like his father.

Jungkook watches as you give Bam “lovies” as you call it, the dog absolutely basking in the attention.

“I’m starting to think he likes you more than me,” Jungkook jokes with a scoff, smiling as Bam does his ‘sit/lay down’ tricks for you. What a showoff.

“He’s never gotten that comfortable with anyone who isn't me,” he murmurs with a soft smile, watching the two excited puppies in his living room. “He gets really excited when he knows you're coming over.”

“Bam, cut it out. I’m Miso’s mommy, she’s going to get jealous,” you playfully scold him, although the scratches you give him say otherwise. He’s just a doe-eyed, dark-haired, soft-hearted boy. Again, much like his father.

Jungkook finishes drying the dishes and practically shoves Bam out the way to get the same attention from you. He lays down on the couch with his head in your lap and you already know what he wants. You lightly scratch his scalp, watching his eyes flutter shut, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, relishing in the feeling of your fingers in his hair. Sex is great, but there's something about moments like this that just makes him want to get down on his knees and give you whatever you want, whenever you want it.

“I think Bam-ie’s upset,” you chuckle, looking over at him with a soft, apologetic smile, his father looking anything but sorry. He chuckles as he watches Bam quietly stroll back to the bedroom, his eyes fluttering shut once more when you do that thing with your nails that sends shivers down his spine.

“He’ll live,” he scoffs, wincing when you give his hair a firm tug, his lips puffing up into a pout.

You don't really remember how exactly you ended up on his lap with your hands in his hair and his lips peppering your jaw and neck with gentle, tender kisses, but you know that it feels good.

“We’ve been so busy lately, we’ve barely gotten a chance to do this,” he murmurs against your skin, his hands trailing up your thighs to rest at your hips.

You scoff, your eyes fluttering shut as he sucks on that sweet spot behind your ear. It's true. You’ve both been so busy with work that you haven't hung out or had sex in two weeks.

“I know. I’ve been relying on my vibrator.”

He feels a shrill of heat run through him at the thought of you pleasuring yourself, as if he hasn't already seen the actual thing live in-person.

“Yeah? Is he better than me?” he teases with a little grin, pressing soft kisses to your pulse point.

“First of all; she, and I mean…she gets the job done,” you tease, not wanting to outright admit that nothing and no one can make you cum the way he does.

“You couldn't have just said no?” he chuckles, leaning his head back to rest against the back of the couch, his eyes heavy-lidded as he looks up at you. “Maybe I should get myself a toy too…y’know, for when you're too busy,” he teases with a lazy grin.

“What, like a pocket pussy?” you laugh.

“Mm. Something like that.”

“I’d prefer you to be inside me instead of a fake vagina,” you quip, leaning in to press a feather-like kiss to his lips, just testing the waters a bit. “Are you gonna think of me when you use it?” you tease, batting your lashes the way you know makes him go a little weak.

He swallows thickly, nodding like he’s hypnotised. “Of course I’d think of you,” he murmurs, his hips bucking up in a sad attempt to get you to give him some friction. “It wouldn't compare to you though. Nothing compares to you.” His voice is soft and airy, sounding almost pathetic.

You feel a little smile tug at your lips, your resolve slowly slipping. He’s so open about his thoughts and feelings. He’s not afraid to be vulnerable and lay it all out there, even if it is just sex.

His heart does that stupid thump-thump thing again at the sight of your smile, but now really isn't the time to psychoanalyse that, so he pushes that thought away for later.

“Can you take this off for me?” He slips his fingers underneath the soft fabric of your sweatshirt, getting a bit antsy to see more of you.

He’s never really given it too much thought whether he’s an ass or tits typa guy, but when you pull your sweatshirt over your head and his eyes land on that black bra with the little pink bows, the one that you know he likes so much, he swears he’s never seen anything prettier.

“God, I love these.” He leans his head forward to press soft little kisses to the tops of your breasts, his hands trailing up the sides of your ribs. “My pretty girls.”

Your eyes fall shut, the butterflies starting to flutter in the pit of your stomach. Sex with him is so soft and sweet. He says nice things and he makes you feel good, both physically and emotionally, and that makes your anxiety spike just a tad, so you deflect.

“Do you always make conversation with a woman’s tits before you stick it in her or…?”

He chuckles, and it's deep and warm, a little comforting, like if hot cocoa had a voice.

“Take this off. Wanna see them,” he murmurs softly, lightly tugging at the strap of your bra to let it snap back against your skin.

You roll your eyes, but the faint smile on your lips tells him that you're more than happy to oblige. You reach back to unclasp it, letting the material fall from your body, his eyes growing a shade darker at your exposed skin.

He swirls his tongue around a nipple and sucks before repeating the same thing on the other side, giving both breasts the attention they deserve. His eyes flutter shut like he wants to savour every little moment with you.

You reluctantly get up off his lap, and before he can protest, you're discarding the rest of your clothing, sliding your sweatpants down your legs. He makes quick work of following your lead by removing his shirt and pants, his boxers following quickly behind.

You make a little show of removing your panties, and you would normally be embarrassed by the amount of moisture that has already accumulated inside the flimsy material, but right now, all you can focus on is his hand giving his cock a few lazy strokes while he watches you undress for him.

“C’mere.” He spreads his legs a bit, his cock already almost fully hard, the tip slowly turning a light shade of pink. You'd never thought of a cock as 'pretty' before, but damn, it's pretty.

You do as he says without a single protest or complaint, your pussy practically throbbing at the sight of him. Oh, how wonderful it is to be his friend.

You get down on your knees in front of him, his eyelids hanging low as he looks down at you, his hand pumping his cock.

You pride yourself in being good at oral sex, but it's never been something you particularly love doing. That is, until you started hooking up with Jungkook. Sometimes he’ll just be doing something as simple as watching a show on tv, and you’ll be on your knees with your hair up and his cock hitting the back of your throat. It's everything, from the sounds he makes, to the way his eyebrows furrow and his lips part in ecstasy, that makes it so enjoyable.

You take over for him, giving his cock a few strokes before swirling your tongue around the head, pulling a deep groan from the back of his throat. You start sucking, working your way down his length, occasionally looking up to see that look on his face that makes your pussy clench. He rests his hand at the back of your head, not applying pressure, just wanting to feel more of you as you bob your head up and down a few times.

You give the tip some attention, then go all the way down to the base so that your nose just lightly brushes against his pelvis, then back up again, keeping a nice rhythm. His groans, paired with the way his stomach tenses every time you take him down to the base, is almost enough to make you cum right then and there.

“Fuck…baby, stop, please. Don't wanna cum too early,” he murmurs hoarsely, reaching for you to get up and straddle his lap. Your hips slide back and forth, your slick coating him, his dick glistening under the low light of the living room lamp.

“Already? Jesus, Jungkook, have some self-respect.” You can't help but tease him a bit, even in a moment like this, where you're in no position to be making fun of his desperation when you’re as wet as you are.

He scoffs, his hand disappearing between your legs, his middle and ring finger rubbing slow circles over your clit before sliding back to sink into your sopping entrance, shutting you right up.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” he teases with a lazy little grin, his fingers slowly pumping in and out, your wetness allowing him to move them without any resistance.

“Don't speak about my daughter at a time like this.”

His laughter gets cut off by your lips crashing into his, his fingers slipping out of you as you lift your hips to align the tip of his cock with your entrance.

“Want me to sit on it?”

“Yeah.” His voice is breathless as the anticipation slowly builds in his gut. No matter how many times you have sex, he’ll never get tired of that rush of adrenaline that flows through him in that moment right before he slides in.

“Ask nicely.”

“Y/n, come on,” he laughs half-heartedly, tilting his head back against the couch, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips.

“Ask me nicely and I’ll sit down, Kook,” you whisper, leaning in so that your lips just barely graze against his.

“Please…please, baby. Ride me, please.”

The groan he lets out as you slowly sink down on his cock is enough to send shivers down your spine. It's thick and long, but it's not too big for it to hurt. It fits perfectly, nice and snug like a glove.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he mutters hoarsely, his hands gripping you harder as you begin to roll your hips in that fluid motion that makes him go a little crazy.

It feels like an honour that he gets to see you like this, naked on top of him, riding him deep and slow on his couch after a long day at work. He doesn't know what he ever did in his lifetime to deserve to be balls deep inside you on a Friday night, but he knows that he’s a lucky bastard.

“Just like that. Fuck, you're so tight,” he groans, looking down to watch the way your pussy sucks him in, like something out of a wet dream.

You set a nice pace, riding him just the way he likes it. You reach down to rub circles over your clit, your walls clenching around his cock, pulling soft moans and whimpers from his lips.

“Keep going,” he mutters, his voice trembling. “Fuck, you're gonna make me cum, baby…”

You ride a bit faster, applying more pressure to your clit as you chase your own high. He fights to keep his eyes open, desperately needing to watch you as the pleasure takes over.

“Fuck, Jungkook!” The pleasure creeps up on you and you cum with a breathless moan, your walls fluttering around his length, throbbing and pulsating.

“Gonna…holy shit…gonna cum, baby, don't stop…”

You use the last of your energy to bring him to his peak, moving your hips until his cock twitches and his muscles tense beneath you. He cums with a guttural groan, his fingers digging into your flesh so hard that it might bruise tomorrow.

You continue to grind down on him to help him ride it out. You gently run your fingers through his damp hair, his skin slightly dewy, his eyes squeezed shut. He trembles as the aftershocks flow through him, his breathing coming out a bit uneven.

He wraps his arms around you, holding you close to his chest, looking like he just died and came back to life. He lifts his head to press a soft kiss to your lips, but you pull away before he can deepen it.

“Come on, let go. I gotta go clean up.”

You very rarely allow him to cuddle you after sex. It feels too intimate, too romantic. You don't allow yourself to be romantic with Jungkook. He's not your boyfriend and you like it that way.

He lets out a small hum of disagreement as you lift yourself up, his hands moving to hold your waist.

"Stay here for a little longer," he mumbles softly, his voice drowsy. He looks at you with big doe eyes, trying to persuade you to stay. “Just a few more minutes.”

“You're starting to soften inside me and I have to shower, Kook. You know I hate feeling sticky.”

He reluctantly lets you go, groaning softly as you get up off his lap. "Fine, fine," he grumbles, his eyes following you as you walk over to the bathroom.

You walk off to his bathroom and close the door, locking it behind you. Locking the door is something so simple but it means so much. It means, 'You're not my boyfriend so we can't share that level of intimacy. You can fuck my brains out, but you can't wash my hair in the shower or sit on the toilet while I do my skincare'. It's too coupley.

Jungkook slowly puts his boxers back on, staring at the bathroom door. He knows he’s not your boyfriend. He knows he probably never will be. He knows all your boundaries and your rules and your reasons for having them, but that doesn't make it sting any less. He can't help but wonder what it would feel like if you actually allowed him to love you, but he knows he’s just being foolish and hopeful. He knows that by physically locking that door, you're locking him out of ever getting closer to you emotionally.

[kamaluhkhan]

WE DESERVE A SOFT EPILOGUE, MY LOVE.

pairing: vi x firelight!reader word count: 2k summary: after years of thinking her dead, ekko brings vi to the firelight base. you don't really know how to react when the girl you grew up loving is now a woman you know nothing about and still, somehow, feel everything for. warnings: arcane level angst + lesbian yearning. reader is referred to with she/her pronouns. reader has tattoos and a star-shaped birthmark behind her ear (y'all know vi loves a nickname and i thought 'stargirl' was v cute so i had to make it work). fic gets slightly suggestive at the end ;) author's note: happy act iii release day!!! i wrote this instead of working on my thesis oops. in my defense, vi has sparked something in me that i simply cannot ignore. i'm also working on a werewolf! pitfighter!vi x vampire slayer!reader fic (set in the same universe, just with a slight twist) sooo that might be done before part 2 of this fic (which is where the smut happens hehe). anyways, thank you for reading!

inspired by that quote: "i think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love. we are good people and we've suffered enough" by nikka ursula

even after all these years, vi is still the first one to notice you. 

her eyes widen as she hesitates to pull away from ekko, but you clear your throat to catch both of their attentions.

“i thought we were gonna question her together.”

ekko wipes a stray tear from his cheek and stands up a little straighter. 

“you were taking too long,” he shrugs. “don’t worry — she’s clean.”

you trust ekko’s judgement, but you still can’t reckon with the fact that vi is alive. you’d splashed cold water on your face just before to make sure you weren’t dreaming. 

“i don’t know.” you walk closer until you’re standing arms length from vi. “the vi i knew wouldn’t be caught dead with a topsider, let alone an enforcer.” 

you examine her carefully, and you imagine she’s doing the same to you. vi looks more grown up — stronger and sharper. you’d spent so much time in limbo, not knowing if she were alive or dead. you aren’t sure how to react when the girl you grew up loving is now a woman you know nothing about and still, somehow, feel everything for. 

“i guess the shoddy undercut is a pretty clear give away,” you deadpan.

vi quirks an eyebrow at you. “shoddy, huh? you know, your tattoos look like they were drawn by blindfolded children.”

she smiles, all bright and toothy. the scar on her upper lip stretches, achingly familiar, and you decide there’s nothing you want to do more than to bring her into your arms, to bring her closer, so you do. 

her hair tickles your cheek as you whisper:

“i did those tattoos myself.”

vi chuckles, and you feel it vibrate across her body to yours.

“i know. they’re beautiful.” her index finger traces the star-shaped birthmark behind your ear; you shiver. “i was just messing with you, stargirl.”

vi was the only one who ever called you that, said you made her life brighter or some other sweet nothing that would effortlessly fall from her mouth.

gods, she was the first one who even noticed that birthmark on your skin. 

“i was messing with you, too. the hair — you look hot.”

you feel her heart beating faster against your chest as she smiles into your shoulder.

she’s here.

she’s not some ghost from your past.

she’s really here. 

you’re so overwhelmed by how solid she is against you that you start to pull away, but vi catches your hand before you can fully untangle yourself from her. 

“that’s all i get?” she wonders, licking her lips.

you’re tempted, very tempted, to give her more. maybe you would have, until ekko clears his throat behind you.

“should i….give y’all a moment?” ekko asks. “i’ll go get the piltie.”

you then remember who vi came here with; she might not be working for silco, but you stand by your suspicions at her bringing a topsider to the lanes. 

you slip your hand from hers. you roll your shoulders back as if that would really shake away the hold she’s always had on you.

time has passed. things have changed. neither of you are kids anymore, and you don't have the luxury of indulging in a frivolous crush.

“it's fine, e. let’s show them around.”

“still a night owl, i see.”

vi finds you perched on one of the trees highest branches, surrounded by firelights as you sketch something. you close your sketchbook instantly and place it on the other side of you when vi sits down.

“thought you’d be in bed with that enforcer of yours.” 

“her name’s caitlyn.”

“caitlyn,” you scoff, shaking your head. 

the bitterness you try to hide is all too transparent to vi, who has to bite back a laugh at your pettiness. 

“you say her name like you’re gonna hex her. never pegged you as a jealous ex.”

“technically, we never broke up,” you point out. 

a firelight lands on your hand, and you let it crawl up the lines etched on your skin. 

“if that’s the case, i owe you an apology for cheating on you when i was in prison.”

you frown, but say nothing, your eyes following that same firelight as it illuminates your tattoos. 

“don’t worry, i’m kidding!” vi pauses. “mostly.”

the firelight flies away, and you huff out an annoyed breath. 

“whatever. i don’t care who you’ve fucked, or who you’re fucking. and, you don’t owe me anything. it’s not like we’re anything to each other, anymore.”

vi sucks in a sharp breath — she wouldn’t have expected such harsh words from you.

“is that why you can’t even look at me?” she finally asks.

you’d been strictly business since you first reunited hours ago. you expertly distanced yourself from vi all throughout the tour of the firelights’ base, and throughout dinner, too. 

where’s the girl she’d spend hours goofing around with, who always had a witty response to her sarcastic remarks, who smiled at her in such a way that made her chest glow? where’s the girl who brightened vi’s life when it seemed like the darkness would never leave?

“i don’t know,” you admit. “part of me still can’t believe you’re alive. i know that i should be happy that you are, but i keep thinking about everything i could have done to protect you, and powder —”

“hey. it’s my job to worry about everyone, remember?”

“you weren’t here.”

“i am now.”

she gently moves your chin so that you face her, so that you can see that she’s not going anywhere, at least for tonight. 

which is probably more time than either of you thought you’d ever have together again.

vi notices how your eyes flick down to her lips and back up, and she feels something spark in her chest. but then, you shake your head as though trying to wake up from a dream and turn away once more. 

“that enforcer of yours —”

“she’s not my —”

“whoever she is, she talked about how we all need to heal. i just keep thinking about what you’ve been through, what we’ve all been through…. how it never really stops. healing would be nice, but it’s hard when you have to keep fighting every day. you remember what ekko said, about why we chose this place?” 

of course, she remembers. 

“that if even a seed can survive down here, maybe we could, too.”

 “we. who’s ‘we,’ vi?” you laugh, but there’s no joy behind it. “we’ve gotten used to surviving without each other. maybe it was meant to be that way.”

“that’s not fair.” 

“a lot of things aren’t fair.” you gesture around at the base. “this — this community — took blood, sweat, and tears to build and i just know how easy it would be for someone to destroy it all. which is why we fight, obviously, to protect all this and each other, but i’m scared that we can only do so for so long before we burn out.”

you press your knees to your chest and curl into yourself. vi notices then — the slump of your shoulders, the shadows beneath your eyes, and just how deeply exhausted you must feel, down to your bones. 

you let out a shuddery breath. “is it even all worth it?”

vi swallows the tears building in her throat. you had always been the hopeful one, and it makes vi’s chest ache to think about what you must have endured to lose the brightness that had been woven into your being. 

that's part of what got her through these past few years, and there's no way she's going to let it fade.

“i....i think so,” vi starts, trying to find it within her to be inspirational. “maybe it'll make a difference in the long run, even if we don’t see that now. maybe someone, someday in the future, will be able to not just survive, but live in a better world.”

you raise an eyebrow at her, and vi swears there's a slight smile on your face.

"what?" she asks, her cheeks heating up.

"i'm just...surprised. how is it possible that prison made you less cynical?”

there's a glimmer to your eyes that wasn't there before, something playful, and vi decides to lean into it.

"oh, it wasn't prison," vi says, nudging her shoulder against hers. "see, i ran into this pretty girl from my past and she's this totally badass freedom fighter now, so i think there's some hope in the world."

you snort. "good to know you're still an unbearable flirt."

"i thought you loved that about me."

you laugh, a sparkling sound that vi wishes she could carry with her wherever she goes. it’s contagious, too, and vi finds herself giggling along with you. when it dies down, you rest your head on her shoulder, something you did even back when you were only friends.

“i missed you,” she admits. 

“yeah?” your voice is softer than a whisper. 

you lift your head and vi cradles your face in her hands.

vi nods. “so fucking much, and i want to prove it. if you’ll let me. please.”

“vi,” you exhale. she’s so close now that she can feel you breathing against her lips. “i can’t. you’re with that enforcer.”

“we’re not together,” vi assures, bumping her nose against yours. 

she leans in ever so closely to kiss you, but you move away. 

“you’re still with her, though, and you’re leaving in the morning,” you continue. “things are already so….complicated. i just don’t think we should start something we won’t be able to finish.”

with nothing more to say, you gather your sketchbook and pencils. vi’s sure that you’re not going to bed, just off to nestle into another hiding spot for the night, away from her.

maybe you’re still putting up a cold front, protecting yourself because that’s how you've been surviving in this world where the risk of losing everything lingers, and only gets heavier as you grow older.

but, gods, vi really has missed you, the you she remembers so vividly, the you that shone through just moments ago. she knows that glowing heart of yours is hardened by layers of ice, and she’s determined to make them all melt away.

so, vi gets up, heart beating in her throat, and calls after you:

“haven’t we already?” 

you stop in your tracks. you slowly turn around to back at her.

a moment passes, maybe more. the two of you suspended in time. your eyes are telling her a million different things – you’re confused, you’re scared, you’re tempted, you’re tired – and all vi can do is unsuccessfully blink back more tears because it’s true, how your story together never got the happy ending you deserved. 

“please, y/n. if this is our second chance, even just for a night —”

she’s cut off by you crashing your lips against hers.

the two of you were young, really, just girls when you first kissed. it was awkward and messy and though it ignited something in the pit of vi’s stomach, it was nothing compared to this.

she lets you guide her as you please, lets you press your warm body against hers against the trunk of the tree. she lets your lips mold into hers until her lungs are burning. 

your chest is heaving as you pull away slightly; vi bites back a whine, feeling empty. but air isn’t what she needs, she’s sure of it. what she really needs is more of you.

you study her like a work of art, like you're committing her to memory in case she slips away. your thumb wipes away a fallen tear, across the tattoo on her cheek. 

fuck, no one's held vi this tenderly since, well, you.

“you’re so beautiful.”

vi blushes, becoming increasingly flustered. she'd wanted to make this about you, take care of you in all the ways she'd imagined, but the way you're looking at her, touching her....she's not a religious person, but vi thinks she might have stumbled into her own, personal heaven, with you having some divine hold on her, soft and bright and passionate.

you're kissing down her neck, nipping at her collarbone when you repeat: "you're so fucking beautiful."

“yeah, i know. they should build statues of me,” she breathes, closing her eyes and trying to keep upright on weak knees. she squeezes your hips in an attempt to keep herself steady.

you’re the only person vi can recall calling her beautiful. 

sexy? oh, yeah. charming? definitely. hot? often. 

no one else calls her beautiful, though, let alone makes her feel like it the way you do.

“bad at flirting and full of yourself," you tease. "some things really don't change."

by now your lips are travelling lower, and vi doesn't want to miss a second watching you have your way with her. when her eyes flutter open, vi gets a glimpse of something over your shoulder.

“hm, i guess drawings are a good place to start.” 

she gestures with her chin, which she instantly regrets as you pull away to follow her gaze, eyes landing on the sketches of her from your fallen sketchbook.

“you weren’t supposed to see those,” you groan. "they're personal...."

it's cute, how flustered you get after making vi all hot and bothered.

vi smirks. "personal, huh? had some fun picturing me when i was gone? missed me so much you had to draw me back to life?"

"well, no - wait, yes, obviously, i missed you, but --"

vi cuts you off with a searing kiss.

she tugs on one of your belt loops to bring you closer to her. vi presses her thigh between your legs, relishing in how your mouth opens in a perfect gasp. vi takes the opportunity to bite your bottom lip and you whimper.

“don't be embarrassed, baby," vi mumbles against your mouth, thumb rubbing soothing circles into your hips. "you know i missed you, too. 'cept i'm not talented like you, so my creative imagination had to carry me through some long nights."

“is that so….” your hand slips underneath her tank top, and you manage to pull a groan from vi by scratching your nails against her stomach. “maybe you can clue me in to what, exactly, you’ve imagined.”

vi grins triumphantly. she places a kiss on your birthmark before whispering in your ear:

“sure thing, stargirl.”

[livinghalfway]

Right Reasons; Wrong Kid

Summary: Batfam thinks Damian is being kidnapped when they see Danny getting manhandled into a car by Vlad; Danny loves to make Vlad's life difficult and puts up a fight getting into the car.

Word Count: 1450

Being in Gotham was the last place Danny wanted to be today, especially when he had to be here with Vlad. The fruitloop had somehow convinced his parents that he should go to this stupid three day business conference with him.

While Danny can't make any decisions right now he can certainly make Vlad regret his. Which is why Danny doesn't feel an ounce of embarrassment at what he is currently doing.

"Daniel, get in the car." Vlad hissed at him with a tight smile as they both stood outside of the building the conference was being hosted in.

"No." He said; even going as far as to take a step backwards to further spite the man in front of him.

It was clear Vlad was losing his patience with him if the subtle flash of red in his eyes is anything to go off of. "Daniel, I won't ask again. Get in the car now, or I can drag you in. The choice is yours, but you will be getting in this car one way or another."

"You really gonna drag a kid into your car in front of all these people you're trying so hard to impress?" Danny looked from side to side at all the people congregating on the sidewalk and steps as they wait for their vehicles to arrive.

"I'm hardly the first person they've seen that has had to deal with a stubborn child refusing to listen." Vlad says as he takes a threatening step forward, "Now get in the car."

"No."

Seemingly annoyed but not surprised Vlad takes a deep breath before his hand, like a snake, strikes forward and grabs a hold of him before beginning to pull. Just as quickly though Danny is trying to pull away with just as much strength. Quickly taking a moment to look around he sees that others are already starting to look in their direction; perfect.

With him distracted though Vlad was able to get a sharp tug on him causing him to stubble towards the car. Before he can fall into the car though Danny is shooting his foot forward, firmly planting it down as his hands land on both sides of the open car door.

"Gonna have to try harder than that, fruitloop. I can't make it too easy for you." Danny teased as he fought against Vlad’s pushing.

Vlad doesn't say anything back to him besides giving a low growl. This situation is clearly not going the way he wanted to and Vlad’s frustration was starting to show, and Danny was determined to watch this man break in front of all these people he so desperately wanted to impress.

He locked his arms and knees when he felt Vlad start pushing harder against his back. Preparing himself to jump to the side the moment Vlad loosened his grip even slightly. What he wasn't prepared for though was for the weight pushing against him to suddenly disappear.

"What is going on here?" A deceivingly friendly voice sounds out behind him.

Before Danny can realize what has just happened though a much stronger hand is gripping his shoulder and yanking him away from the open car door. Finally able to see more than just the car's interior Danny see's that three other men are now standing by the car.

Two of them, a teen not much older than himself and a middle aged man, are standing in front of him as if forming a wall between him and Vlad. Who is being held in place by the third man.

Danny can see that Vlad was just as thrown off by these strangers as he is based on the startled look on his face. What confuses him though is when instead of becoming angry like he expects Vlad only looks surprised as he takes in the three guys with them.

"Bruce Wayne!" Vlad announces with a tight grin, "I was just trying to get my son to cooperate with me and get in the car. I'm sure you understand how teenage boys are."

"I'm not your son!" Danny instinctively yells out; no way in hell was he going to let Vlad tell people they were any way related.

It took him a second to register what name Vlad had even said.

Bruce Wayne? He remembers Sam and Tucker talking about that guy and his family when they found out he was going to Gotham. Which means if he's remembering correctly then the young man next to Vlad is most likely Dick Grayson and the older teen next to him is Tim Drake.

Without looking at him Bruce leans towards him and whispers, "Shh Damian, let me handle this."

Wait. What?

"I'm not-" Danny tried to say that his name wasn't Damian, but was quickly interrupted before he could.

"Damian, quiet." Bruce lowly growls; still not moving his gaze to look at Danny. "Actually, Mr. Masters, you'll find that this is my son, and I don't think you should be putting your hands on him."

Vlad looks from Bruce to Danny and then back to Bruce, "While I do agree that you and Daniel share some resemblance this is not your son Mr. Wayne."

It seems Bruce wasn't going to entertain Vlad's "lie" because he still doesn't bother to even look at Danny. Tim on the other hand seems to consider what Vlad said, and turns to actually look at his face.

Danny almost laughs out loud when he sees shock immediately overtake Tim's face. At least one of these fruit loops is smart enough to recognize that he isn't the youngest Wayne.

"Bruce, this isn't Damian." Tim states with wide eyes still locked with his.

Upon hearing this the other two Wayne's finally take a hard look at Danny for themselves.

"Oh my God B, that's not Damian!" Dick exclaims before releasing his hold on Vlad.

Bruce on the other hand is frozen in shock as he stares at Danny as he comes to the realization that the boy in front of him is in fact not his youngest son. Snapping himself out of his stupor, the older man finally addresses Vlad. "Mr. Masters, my deepest apologies. It seems this young man and my son look remarkably alike, and I assumed the worst when I saw him fighting to get into the car."

Vlad takes a step forward towards Danny clear with his intentions of getting them into the car now, but before he can grab him Bruce is once more taking a step in front of Danny. "I would actually like to have a quick word with Daniel if you won't mind."

"And why is that?"

"I have a son his age after all, maybe I can help ease this teenage rebellion phase, and cause less fights when it comes to getting in the car."

Danny must have been more focused on the growing argument in front of him more than he thought because he ends up slightly jumping when he feels a sudden hand on his shoulder. Looking to his right he sees that Dick is now standing next him with a soft smile. "Daniel, right?"

“Danny actually, and you’re Dick?”

"Yup! That's me," He gestures to the boy standing on Danny's other side, "and this is Tim. Sorry about all this; we thought our brother was being kidnapped."

"Do I seriously look that much like him?" At this point Danny had to meet Damian if the guy's family was even confusing the two of them.

Tim is giving him a concentrated look when he replies, "It's like the two of you could be twins or maybe even clones. The eye color is the biggest difference between the two of you."

If Danny didn't know any better he would think Tim was accusing him of being a clone based on the tone of his voice. He knew Gotham was weird, but he didn't think he would have to worry about cloning here. "While I was adopted when I was pretty young, but I think I'd know if I had a twin or if I was a clone."

"Crazy things happen all the time in Gotham."

Well, that doesn’t sound ominous at all. Danny can't believe saying this, but it's probably time to get Vlad's attention and get the hell out of here. He already has one crazy fruitloop to worry about; he doesn't need more. "Vlad, I think we really need to-."

“Father, what is the meaning of all this?” A new voice interrupts him, and when he sees who it is truly shocking to see a mirror of his own face. The other is also now looking at him with something akin to shock and grief.

“Damian?”

“Danyal.”

[zylusmusings]

"what do you think our wedding will be like?" she asks, and rafayel feels his heart still immediately. he gives it a second, letting the two sides of his heart battle it out.

a part of him feels giddy - she wants to be his bride again. it will happen again, because they are fated mates! all of the worrying was for nothing because look! she wants to get married, bonded to him again. sure, the "sanctity" of marriage amongst humans on this earth is laughable and ludicrous compared to the solemn oath he literally has embedded to his chest... but he'll take it nonetheless. he'll take anything she has to offer, honestly.

albeit the other part of him wants to sulk and throw a tantrum. because this question is simply yet another reminder of what was left to be forgotten. the fact that she was already his bride, but the fact to be so horridly and devastatingly taken away from him. ripped away from his clutching fingers. sea of god he may be, but the strength of fate has no competition. what a painful reminder that question is, to be reminded, oh yeah you were my bride... until?..

rafayel doesn't realise that dancing around the two emotions has taken some time. purple eyes swirling with mixed emotions as his lips are pursed to the side in silence. this reaction causes her to shift nervously, afraid that she's made him uncomfortable with the question.

she clears her throat soon after, sitting up after spending hours on the couch with him, slouching against the backrest as his purple hair splays out against her chest. the movement shakes him out of his trance, a brief moment of confusion (and a dramatic look of "how could you!”) plastered on his face as he turns around, sitting up for the first time in 2 hours as well. he faces his blushing partner who is clearly flustered at his lack of response.

"um.. i mean - i'm not saying we will definitely get married or like whatever, it was just a question. i don't even know if you wanna marry me. again, it was just a question, you don't have to answer it if you-"

he gasps dramatically, brows furrowed deeply as he scoots away from her in bewilderment. "did you say you don't even know if i want to marry you?" he scoffs, standing up and begins to pace around the room. "is my devotion and quite frankly obvious and constant yearning for you not enough? for you to even question that?"

"rafayel, i-" "maybe the hunter's association should put you on bed rest if your brain's not functioning properly. oh perhaps, it's not the brain, it's your heart and its inability to feel the love i have for you. is that right, hm?"

"rafayel," she repeats louder this time, sighing. "that was not what i meant - i just. you went completely silent on me when i asked the question, so i thought you felt uncomfortable with the topic of marriage." shrugging, the red on her cheeks deepens as a replay of the scene comes to mind. she shrivels into herself, crossing her legs as she begins to play with the loose threads of her sweater. "and i know we’ve never talked about it either, so i shouldn't have just sprung it on you like that."

his face softens immediately, guilt pricking his chest as he watches the vulnerability she was expressing. while she wasn't exactly wrong - the topic of marriage does make him uncomfortable. as much as he wants her to be his bride, it’ll undoubtedly open new doors for pain all over again. but as uncomfortable it is, rafayel knows that she is someone he'd carve his own heart out for (well....).

"you have nothing to apologise for." he tells her gently, the tone contrasting the loud rant he performed earlier, and he's back on the couch, crawling onto the space next to her. his fingers are careful, he reminds himself he's holding onto his reason of being, his kyrptonite, the atoms of sunlight itself. he feels his stomach flip, and the soft warmth that begins to exude from the side of his chest tells him that if she peeked underneath his shirt, she'd bear witness to the physical embodiment of his sacred vow. "it threw me off guard, yes. but only because i've been keeping it myself for far too long, cutie." he smiles, still ever so gentle as his thumb caresses the smooth of her cheek.

"i’ve known that i have wanted to marry you for years now," and while she'll take that as a mere dramatisation (rafayel being rafayel), he means that as literally as it gets. only he knows about the pain, humiliation and fear that comes with the wait and for a moment, he's grateful that she doesn't know. he doesn't want her to be burdened with such hardship-filled emotions, so he'll carry it for the both of them.

"you won't be in white - maybe a light shade of blue. i'll obviously wear the best suit ever to be worn. we'll have a ceremony by the beach," he's speaking straight from the vision he's replayed in his mind countless of times, the smile on his face unconsciously growing as he mindlessly twirls a piece of her hair. "you'll have your hair down, and it'll probably get caught in the sea breeze - but it just makes sense to me."

"and," he pauses for a moment, hesitating before he continues. "we'll say our vows twice. one for everyone to bear witness to, and one just for you and me." a vow so sacred and intimate, rafayel refuses to share with the world. he refuses to taint it even a little bit, it should simply be meant only for his lover and him, and his pure everlasting love for her.

"oh." he has rendered her speechless, and now it's rafayel's turn to be nervous, fearing he has made her uncomfortable. hiding the embarrassment behind a scoff, he pulls away with a pout. "y-you were the one who brought it up first!" immediately, she shakes her head and pulls him back into her chest and rafayel doesn't fight his body when it relaxes immediately. "i was just a little surprised, raf - in a good way. didn't think you would've had all these little details in mind already." her voice mirrors his previously gentle one, and rafayel feels his eyes flutter shut, coaxed by her fingers running through his hair.

she hesitates, but braves herself to say it. time and again, once peeling off his layers, she's beared witness to his endless courage so why not walk in his footsteps? "i do hope we get married." her voice is quieter, but it speaks volumes to him. he feels a lump form in his throat at the emotions that begin to overflow within him. he reaches out to catch onto her hand that's combing through his hair and brings it to his chest in attempts to quell the tears that threaten to form behind his closed lids.

shakily, his lips whisper against her knuckles, "in my mind, we already are."

in his world, they already were. how lucky was he to get married to her, again and again, and again.

god, he'd do it a million times over.

[deathbxnny]

Haiiii Can we get like a oneshot of Vi x f!drunk reader? Maybe where reader is like rlly flirty and horny when drunk and wants to have fun with Vi but obviously Vi doesn’t do anything and just tries to take care of her?

Vi taking care of drunk fem!Reader.

This was written by someone who has never touched alcohol, so I hope it's not too bad-

Content: alcohol, reader is drunk as hell, established relationship, SFW

Reader is asked to be afab and uses she/her pronouns!

((Not proofread))

"Damnit... you drank way too much this time around, cupcake..." Vi sighed out with a shake of her head as she hauled you into your shared home after a long night out in Zaun's busy bars. You were just giggling to yourself at her words, finding them silly and untrue, of course. You weren't drunk at all! Far from it, actually. Never mind your inability to see clearly or walk straight for that matter.

"I'm... not drunk! I uh... yeah." Your girlfriend rolled her eyes at your oh-so-convincing argument whilst she made you sit on the couch in your living room. Trying to just get you to bed as fast as possible, she kneeled down infront of you to take your shoes off, eyes focused on her task at hand and yet you were far from interested in resting now. No, you had plans.

Plans that involved her.

"Hey... what are ya' doin'?" You asked, not even trying to pronounce your words properly anymore. Your hands came up to play with her short pink hair before they slid down to cup her face. Glancing up at you, she raised a slight brow. She knew that look in your eyes. But not tonight, she thought. Not when you're literally unable to even sit up right. "Getting you ready for bed." "Oooh... I love the sound of that!" Deadpanning, she fought the urge to sigh in disappointment. Typical. And usually, she'd indulge in your wishes, but again, not like this.

"Nope, not like that. Now come on, let's get ya to bed, pretty." She said, quick to pick you up with scary ease that made your heart flutter and giggle in excitement. Yet that all slipped away when you processed her clear rejection. "Whattttt?? But the bed is right thereee." "Sure is, princess." It was honestly really amusing to see you so needy for her. And whilst she was stressing a bit, it definitely made for good material to tease you with later.

Carefully laying you down onto the bed, she couldn't help but chuckle at the way you began melting into the mattress involuntarily. "Ya look reallyyy good tonight, Vi-" "-Thanks. Drink this water for me, please." She hummed, skillfully distracting you as though she had been through this a million times before. She gave you no chance to argue back either, with the way she simply made you drink a whole glass of water whilst making sure the bed was fluffy and comfortable enough for you to be in.

All you could do was pout and give her a defeated glare that made her smile. "Sorry, but that's just how things are gonna be tonight, alright? Besides, I bet you're really tired." And you absolutely were, much to your dismay. Vi on the other hand, knew that you were going to get a deadly headache once you woke up and went ahead to place some painkillers and a bucket, just in case, at your bedside table. She needed to prepare everything for your approaching doom the best she could, after all.

Her attention was averted back to you when she noticed you having fallen asleep whilst she was taking care of you. A gentle smile rested on her face, your image mirroring in Vi's eyes lovingly as she admired your form. "Well... that was fast. So much for not being drunk, ey?" But she didn't mind it. After getting ready herself, she pulled you into a tight embrace and fell asleep as well, glad to have you safe and sound with her.

And even if you were unfortunately rejected tonight... there is always tomorrow.

[arc852]

Gosh, I have no idea how I'm going to put this into words but I'm gonna try my best.

I have a lot of feelings about Jimmy's canary status and such.

For four seasons he has been the first out, he's the canary. He signals the start of the end and for four seasons that was very true. And Jimmy hated it. He hated being out first everytime. Everyone around him either pitied him or made fun of him for being out first and Jimmy started to hate himself for how bad he was at the game.

And then came Secret Life.

As we all know, he wasn't the first out. And he was ecstatic. Even after dying second not ten minutes later, he cared more about the fact that he wasn't out first. He claimed the curse was broken and now we continue to see this into Wild Life.

Now, where am I going with this?

I think the Watchers are doing this on purpose.

There has always been something about Jimmy that the Watchers have clung on to. And up until this point, I thought the Watchers despised him. I mean, being the one cursed to always be out first, to be the one that warns your friends of their deaths, that's not fun. That's straight up torture.

But now, I don't think they despise him. I think they see to use him.

Think about it! The Watchers, for four seasons, have pummeled Jimmy's self confidence into the ground. Has made everyone see him as a loser. He started getting hopeless, started feeling like nothing was ever going to change.

And then it did change, in Secret Life, and he wasn't out first. Now, being out second is really not any better but it wasn't about that. Jimmy was starting to feel like, maybe he could actually do this! Maybe he could even win.

And then session 3 of Wild Life happened.

The Watchers did this on purpose. They gave him hope by not being out first in Secret Life and then let things get crazy in session 3 of Wild Life for Jimmy. Jimmy had it pretty bad in session 3 and I know a lot of us didn't have a lot of hope for him after that. Of course, session 4 went a different way than we were all expecting but again, that kind of plays into things.

The Watchers have torn Jimmy down, given him a little hope, and then tore him down again. And they did this to get Jimmy right where they wanted him.

Because Jimmy, before session 5, prayed to the Watchers. He asked them, begged them to please not let him be out first. To please let the canary curse well and truly die.

And they answered.

And Jimmy wasn't out first.

And now Jimmy is putty in their hands.

[forgot-my-line]

By actively making posts that put people down and make a public space feel unsafe, unwelcoming or not open/accepting of someone, you are doing the exact same things they are. If it's bad when they do it, it's bad when you do it. It's not a one-way street. You are being just as bad as they are.

I completely agree that we don't owe them Respect. They didn't show us any. I do, though, wholeheartedly believe that there isn't a single person ever who doesn't deserve basic human decency. That includes feeling safe in spaces that are open to literally any and everyone. And yea sure, most aren't helping, but what about the ones who are at least trying? what about the trump voters who are donating to trans health donation centers? or the trump voters who didn't get a say (for personal safety or other reasons) or were spoonfed misinformation, who are trying to right things now? Do they not count for something?

I'm also not saying we have to coddle anyone. I'm saying if we could stop making public spaces unsafe for some people, regardless if you like, love, hate or despise them, that would be just peachy. These spaces are where some people go to escape other oppressive forces, don't add to the list of people they have to avoid. Actually, in fact, don't coddle them. That won't help. What won't help either though, is isolating them. If we isolate people, we do the same thing as the people you are so against. You are being just as bad as they are.

Not every person who voted againt Harris is a bad person. I apoligize if this fact is upsetting to you. Some trump voters, as touched on ealier, weren't in a position where they could vote how they wanted to. I am well aware that this is a very hard subject to come to terms with. Not everyone has to see things like abuse or manipulation first hand but that doesn't mean it isn't a real thing that actively affects choices and decisions. Sometimes the only thing they could do to avoid voting for Trump, was to withhold from voting or vote third party. They didn't get a choice so why make them feel worse about it.

It's been made more than clear that these are the consequences of what happened at the election. Not only has it been spelt out for everone, their dead grandma, and their pet fish, but it's been spoonfed to each and every one of them. Repeating the same things over and over and over again only make people sick of listening to you. They'll see and hear how upset you and everyone are regardless

As for standing up for what's important to me, Unity has to be pretty high on my list. Sorry if my standing behind that ideal upsets you. Change isn't gonna happen if you stand alone, acting as if the entire world is against you. Rome wasn't built by a single person, just as it wasn't built in a single day. You need to have people in your corner.

As you said, Change doesn't magically happen. People work for each and every change that has happened, big or small. Shaming and tearing people down doesn't have to be a part of that work. I'm not saying shaming people won't get the results you so desperately want, I'm saying that there are much better ways of getting people to realize they are wrong and/or need to change than making public spaces an unsafe space to be and to make people feel worse about themselves than they already do.

It wasn't just this particular post that was the issue, but the fact that no matter how many political opinions and posts I ignored completely and scrolled past, posts like these still showed up on my dash. My passion is my compassion and ability to care for everyone. I'd much rather live in a world where every single living thing feels safe, at least in my presence, than getting into silly arguments with random strangers on Tumblr dot com. Responses like these are not only condescending, they actively miss the entire point I was making.

[maxarchive]

Listen to the full interview here.

Now, just as the championship was starting to get to a really tense point around Austin, there was this big controversy about driving ethics between you and Lando. The drivers had a big conversation with the FIA after that race about the guidelines and it felt in some ways that it was a consequence of what had happened in Austin. How did you feel about that? Did you ever feel like they were singling you out?

You know, honestly, I don't, even if they would have done or did, I, first of all, I don't care because I drive to what I think is possible and what is allowed in the rules. And if the rules are written like that, I will use the rules. I'm just not the type of person that I think, if that would have happened to me the other way around, you know. There is then other people commenting on, other drivers commenting on that were not involved in that whatever incident or whatever you call it. I don't think I would have been the person then to complain so hard because I would just think to myself that, okay, if that's the rules, that's how we do it instead of screaming that we need to change the rules. Because the problem is, if you make less rules and then something happens, then they will start screaming for more rules. Now we have the rules, maybe not perfect, but it will never be perfect. Because if we get to a certain rule set, there will be another incident where someone is not happy about and then they start screaming that the rules are not correct again. It's the same in football. If there's a foul and there are some clear rules about certain things, it's not always that the right decision is made on it, or is it a penalty given or not? Or was it offside or not? That's why you can never, at the end of the day, do it right. Do I think that consistency in the penalties can be better? Yes, for sure. But that only comes with, I think, stewards that are paid, you know, professional stewards. Not that I think that the stewards that we have right now, you know, they're doing their very best to what they have, you know, but I do think that, you know, in a sport like this, like you see in other sports as well, that when you have a paid board of stewards, I think it just works way better.

You said something very interesting there about the rules that you were always driving to the rules. And that's the fundamental point. I think no one said in Austin or thought that you'd done anything against the rules. But there was this particular kind of defense, you know, the kind of race to the apex, trying to be ahead and all the rest of it that people are talking about now. Do you think that just taking a step back from that particular incident, do you feel that that's the right way to go racing? Would you choose to do it that way if those weren't the rules? How would you like to do it?

Like I grew up with go-karting, where it's not about who is ahead of the apex or not. I think every driver is anyway a little bit different. I remember from go-karting as well with some, you just knew that if you went around the outside, you could hang it around the outside. And with some others, you couldn't because they would push you off. And I think you need a little bit more freedom on that. Because when... When it's that clear rule that you need to be ahead or alongside fully to the apex, you will create other issues with that, right?

So would you naturally want to give someone room on the outside on the exit if you were racing?

Well, me personally, I don't race like that.

You don't... What, sorry, what do you mean?

Well, it's like when I... So when I race with someone, I would... Well, he will not be able to overtake me around the outside.

Okay. Why?

Because that's how I grew up racing.

Okay. So you always think it's okay to go to the edge of the track and force someone off?

Yes, but I've raced against other people in go-karting that would give me space. You know, it's like, it's just a driver-related thing, that some drivers are just a bit more passive, you know, in racing. And that's just how they are. And some I know that even in F1 I can't hang it around the outside because they will push me off. It's just, it's like a bit more of like a racing, I would say, instinct.

So I think if you were to play the devil's advocate, how would someone ever overtake you? Because you will always go to the inside to defend.

It depends on the track layout. I think the main problem is that when you have so much tarmac on the outside, you, even if you lock up a little bit, you just run a little bit wide. But on old-school tracks, you normally never really have these kind of issues because it just doesn't happen because people are a little bit more tentative on the brakes. Also, the guy that is trying to overtake knows that if he makes a mistake and locks up, he's in the gravel and his race is done. You know, so that's what I think is the problem is the track layout is letting us do these kind of, like, you then have questions with some moves. Where if you go to, like, Suzuka or even Red Bull Ring in turn four, the downhill right-hander, where sometimes, you know, it's very rare that there is any, like, question mark move that has been done there because if you make a mistake and you brake too late, you go off in the gravel and you're penalized anyway. And I think we have to try and go back to these kind of things that when a driver goes off the track, there's a harsher penalty with just natural, like, track limits.

So you would never give someone in the outside room on the exit of the corner if you were racing?

Well, that's just normally the case, yeah.

Yeah, okay, cool.

And, of course, when the track is naturally the limit with the gravel being there, then no one even want to go around the outside because they know that. So you then try to go for a cutback or, you know, set yourself up in a different way.

[writerpeach]

I've lost count how many times I've been down bad for Annyeongz's legs

Both of them sitting on your lap, crossing their legs to firmly tighten their thighs together, the perfect shape to caress in the palm of your hands.

They are getting comfy to the point of just nonchalantly kicking off their heels, hearing them go 'kick clack' on the hard floor. Their well manicured feet slightly dangling in the air, toes barely touching the ground, forming the perfect arc with their soles.

If they 'force' you to choose who has currently the best legs, would you follow your gut and tell them the truth?

If this was the previous Peach then Yujin would probably win hands down. Now though... I'm not so sure... 🤔🧐

dammit frisky

---

You've never been so happy to have such a dilemma and these options. You have the best of both worlds; the smoothness of Wonyoung's long creamy legs or the deliciousness of Yujin's more powerful, thicker thighs—equally irresistible and silky soft when wrapped around your head, around your waist, never letting you go.

"Daddy likes my legs better, right?" Wonyoung questions, pulling her short dress even higher up, leaving you unable to help yourself, the urge to reach out, running a hand all along her inner thigh.

Yujin meanwhile does the same and scoots in closer, opening the buttons of your shirt and tracing her delicate finger up your bare chest until it reaches under your chin, lifting it upward, forcing eye contact. "Don't get ahead of yourself, princess. Daddy knows mine are the best. He loves having them on his strong shoulders while he drives his big, fat cock into me all night long. Isn't that right?"

Wonyoung, despite the cute little huff, isn't fazed as Yujin responds, narrowing her eyes at the youngest. You can sense the competitiveness building inside both of them, these two sets of manicured fingers roaming all over your chest. You swallow hard, already too distracted as the pair press lips against your neck and tease, just wanting to steal attention their way.

"Daddy loves when my legs are in the air, when I'm all folded up for him, letting him plunge into every deepest fucking part of me, nothing to stop him," Wonyoung adds with a cheeky, innocent look that stirs heat deep in the pit of your stomach. "I know daddy loves breeding me and pumping me full of his hot cum more than he loves anything else."

Yujin breaks off from her deep kiss that's already left a mark on your neck, looking Wonyoung in the eye with an intensity, a heat you've seldom seen on the girl, shaking her head. "Maybe, princess—but daddy loves fucking his thick load deep into my tight little cunt when I wrap my legs so tight around him that he can't possibly pull out. There's nothing he loves more than completely emptying his balls inside me while I'm all hot and sweaty."

"Slut."

"And proud of it. Jealous that daddy loves to creampie me so much? Sorry, it's not my fault that you can't handle such a big cock. I'm sure someday you'll get there," Yujin returns, never breaking eye contact and maintaining a constant smirk of triumph.

Wonyoung scoffs. She definitely won't admit defeat. And Yujin simply grins at the unsuccessful attempts to conceal her clear anger, the frustration. "Daddy, choose now. Me or Yujinnie. Come on, prove her wrong."

Just the thought of choosing either of them is torturous and absolutely impossible.

So you refuse to.

Yujin can't hide the amusement when you pick neither of them, instead silencing Wonyoung with a kiss, quieting whatever protests are rising in her throat. This is the sign for the three of you to form some semblance of a triple kiss, before switching between Wonyoung and Yujin, until you eventually lean back and watch the two of them make out all sloppily, swapping saliva and realizing how easy it is to shut Wonyoung up.

Then with this fleeting glance shared between the three of you, it's Yujin who speaks first, sliding the straps of Wonyoung's dress off and groping her chest, sucking, slobbering on those pretty nipples.

"Now that this is settled, help me get these clothes off this fucking brat. We've got a nice, big comfortable couch to ruin the princess on. Don't we, daddy?"

[lover-of-mine]

Hi, welcome to Buck just had his oh moment and the color theory of it all.

Usual shoutout to @stagefoureddiediaz because being mind meld with her is what's getting me here lol

First, I'm gonna break my own rule and give too much power to the showrunners, I know I keep saying not to, but hear me out. Buck, Bothered and Bewildered is on Buck's pov, right? That was made clear by the episode and then confirmed in interviews that that was the vision, and well, Tim also said that that scene was from Buck's pov, it's all about Buck's reaction and how he will go crazy about this because he's abandonment issues personified, that is also confirmed with the way we don't see what Eddie is doing until he tells Buck, we are learning things at the same time as Buck is.

Okay, well, why am I going back to 704? Well, Buck's fear of losing Eddie (I don't care what Buck says, he wanted Eddie's attention) made him go completely batshit crazy last time. But it also triggered something really important: Buck's bisexuality. And they just repeated that trigger, but this time with Buck choosing to walk in.

They repeated the bt first kiss structure but with Buck making the choices that create that change. The bt kiss, Buck is working on some bills, Tommy shows up, Buck is spiraling because of Eddie, Tommy kisses him, Buck has the bisexual realization. The 808 scene, Eddie is working on the houses, Buck shows up, he's spiraling about Tommy, Eddie reveals something, and Buck is snapped into the realization. Important thing to notice is that Buck still doesn't fully understand the depth of what his relationship with Tommy showed him about himself, so Buck still might not understand the impact of what his abandonment issues just told him while he was sitting on Eddie's couch. And it's all on Buck's pov.

But Anna, you said color theory.

I'm getting there. Because, well, the bt kiss is blue and red.

Same as 808. So we are evoking the same feeling, especially because of Buck's short sleeves and the buttons (and not a white shirt under this like he had all season lol)

And thinking about the blue and yellow coding Buck's bi arc, he worked his way to lighter blues. He starts with the navy blue colors until that lighter teal tone from the coming out scene.

It's also interesting that in the scenes that are about Eddie in a sense, when he's talking to Maddie and he got it right about it being about Eddie, and the coming out scene being about their friendship, are lighter colors along with Buck matching his background. We don't have the yellow elements but we have that cohesion on the frame composition. (I guess the 606 hoodie also counts since blue and green theory but I don't want to make another image now).

If you're new here, the theory is that Buck worked his way to his blue from darker colors, his blue being the color he is wearing during the coming out scene (and Eddie will find his yellow, but we are not talking about Eddie).

We are back in the darker blue but the composition of the scene is lighter. Buck is literally in front of the light as he is talking to Eddie in the kitchen, and it's the middle of the day.

He matches the background, the couch, the Texas frame, the lighting is also a lot colder than it usually is in Eddie's house. And it's also very important that he is on the couch, because yay couch theory.

But Anna how does any of this prove anything?

Well, Buck is working his way back to his blue while in the darker colors, because while he got the bisexuality part right, Tommy wasn't the right person, and he's finally back in the light, we don't have the dimmed light and the obstruction of his face created by the shadow, dare I saw Buck is finally starting to see things clearer.

But why am I so sure? The shirt he was wearing today?

Same color but in a darker shade than his blue.

Buck is back on the discovery feeling that comes with the darker blue but this time he's in the correct hue, he just needs to get to the right shade, and he just figured something out.

Abandonment issues personified just had his oh moment about Eddie at the thought of losing him permanently, sitting on Eddie's couch while wearing his blue.

Other things to notice, Buck knocked but walked in before Eddie could get to the door, he used his key and the knocking was just to let Eddie know he was there, Buck is the one who suggests moving to the couch and the couch ties it back to the couch theory and the 601 dinner, dare I say that even Buck offering to bake for Eddie and the cooking aspect of it all, and the idea that the couch is home and home is a person and for Buck that's Eddie.

Something else is the way that we finally see someone eating whatever it is Buck is stress baking. Madney don't eat at the loft and the chief interrupts them at the firehouse. Eddie on the other hand is DIGGING into those. And food in 911, in media in general, is about connection, and is very pointedly about love here, and the whole stress baking is great because the kitchen is Buck's safe space, he cooks for people he loves, we see that from when Maddie comes back, to the pointed way he gets take out for his parents in 610, to the lasagna, making chilly with Bobby, cooking for the house on 709 and getting Bobby's approval. And the fact that we are getting Eddie eating what Buck's nervous state is creating while allowing Buck to just go through his kitchen to make more because he is not about to not accept every part of Buck Buck offers him is important.

The fact that Eddie isn't objecting to Buck rummaging around his kitchen is also important in the way the show uses Eddie's house in a meta way, kinda like the way the show uses the loft to match Buck's spirits in a sense, how the kitchen is his heart and for family, how the living room ends up being for guests and it's made pointed about the couch his mother bought "for his guests", Eddie's kitchen and the whole way it's the space Eddie allows himself to be vulnerable but there's the thing of honesty, the core of who Eddie is is tied to the kitchen, and the fact that he's just letting Buck move around like it's his kitchen ads a lot. Buck is the only person who walked into the house through the back door, Buck has a key, Buck has been in every room (except the bathroom but I think they are saving that for buddie canon), that's home for him too and Eddie never thinks to question and Buck never thinks to doubt it ("this is Eddie's house, I'm not really a guest").

Anyway, Buck oh moment real. Buddie 8b real. Color theory got me so high I'm wondering this is what doing hard drugs feels like. I think this is all I have to say. I might come back, who knows? I don't.

If you read this I love you.

taglist (interact with this post if you wanna get tagged)

@sparkedblaze @caw-salem @dreamofsomepiphany @100ceruleaneyes @linus-lucy @chaosqueery @gina-spike @chimchiminie98 @elvensorceress @singitforthegirls @dangerpronebuddie @182daysof @steadfastsaturnsrings @sparklespiff @inell @miles--to--go @jesuisici33 @wolfdeans @lunarsolar1 @joshwritesfics @glasscities @kejfeblintz @stagefoureddiediaz @mosaicstardust @eddiedisasterdiaz @hermioneindisguise @queerprincesseddiediaz @lookforanewangle @becausebuckley @lemotmo @thenainitaldisaster @epiaphany @trudayss @shelfthe-reader @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @buckgettingstruck @scoupsahoy @the-whispers-of-death @iced-coffee-jesus @izzysbeans @starkytower @thegeekcompanion @sunflower-eddiediaz @bucks-daddy-issues

@dingdongfries @angelcamael

[galaxitix]

Ehhh... I'm wasn't even sure what to write...(⁠─⁠.⁠─⁠|⁠|⁠）

I accidentally set my friend up with a guy without realizing till I become the third wheel on a recent outing. (I don't mind being a third wheel but I'm more shocked that they were dating, nothing official yet. she nicknamed him shoe stepper, name self-explanatory. annoyed her by stepping on her shoes and pretending nothing happened in a joking way). My friend thought I set them up on purpose, calling me a secret shipper, I didn't confirm or deny that statement, cause it was funny to me, didn't even knew they were dating till that moment. Fyi, he knew I was coming along and had no problem, so no i didn't crash their date(even though I thought it was just a regular outing between friends). Happy for her all the same, kinda wish love was that easy for me, it's only been 3 months since we started school T-T.

Once had a guy get mad at me for 'leading him on' despite making myself clear from the start that I wasn't going to get start dating a guy who happened to walk up to me randomly one day, but I wouldn't mind being friends to get to know each other (I didn't knew the guy and he was like 5 or so years older than me who just graduated highschool at the time). I also re-stated this over text that I only wanted to be friends. Couple weeks of texting then he randomly asked how I 'felt' about him. Long story short, I 'friendzoned' him then he got all mad at me for being fake and 'like other girls', leaning him on and I reminded him that I told him before I only wanted to be friends from the start, send him proof of my text that specifically stated that. He ghosted me after that text and I couldn't care less, blocked him then and there. He was just playing nice guy to eat in my pants anyways. How I know? 1. this guy's first question to me was if I still have my 'V card' (should have blocked him then but curiosity killed the cat I suppose. ) 2. His status that he post said a lot about him, it's disgusted me but I wasn't really surprised 😑 (I'm a girl that hardly checked people's status on Whatsapp, hence why it took me longer to see his true nature)

Oh and I have freckles on the back of my hands, inherited from my father.

(realize I just ended up rambling but oh well ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯)

Tags...hmm @donnietheterrapin @littlemissartemisia @bubblegum-flavored-timemachine and anyone else who want to do a lore drop

it's so weird to me that everyone on this website is a human person outside of their weird internet niche so rb this with a random bit of your lore

[soft-pine]

1.18 something wicked

say your desk is covered with a pile of paperclips. something wicked is the magnet you drop in the middle and then they all stick to it; they're all connected.

it's all here. the parentification, the neglect, the way john treats dean which sam doesn't witness, the extreme likelihood that john was using his kids as bait, and the intentional, specific, glorious, lovely ways dean has specifically chosen not to be like his dad.

in the flashbacks, we see dean is in charge of feeding and looking after sam for (at least) three days in some random motel room with the shades drawn. he's not even supposed to go outside. he doesn't have a number for john, just the instruction that if john's not back by a certain time, he's supposed to call pastor jim.

we see john giving dean instructions and responsibility (and criticisms) which he's not giving to sam.

dean is at most 11 years old (ep takes place in 2006. dean says the case from when he was a kid was 16-17 years ago (1989/1990). john's journal places it in 1988; dean was 9)

crucially, even as an adult, dean barely talks to sam about what he remembers of the case when he was a kid. he lets go of little bits at a time and absolutely necessary to the case. but he does not want to process what happened. even when he's so torn up that he breaks down and explains what happened, he doesn't want to talk about it. in part, of course, because he's ashamed of failing to kill the shtriga. but also because dean keeps john's secrets (9.07). and even when he doesn't, sam is not who he tends to process with.

but it's deeply impactful to have an episode where we get to see how dean was treated as a child versus how he treats the kids he meets.

dean is so kind to children throughout season 1, from lucas in 1.03 to lily and charlie in 1.05 to michael here. there is something so great about the way he is both clear that the bad things aren't these kid's fault, while also understanding kids have agency and insight.

i know dean is torn up about using michael as bait for the shtriga but feels he doesn't have much of a choice in order to stop the thing. but the conversation he has with michael is so thorough it really gets me.

DEAN: This camera has night vision on it so we'll be able to see clear as day.... Are we good? SAM: A hair to the right... There, there. MICHAEL: What do I do? DEAN: Just stay under the covers. MICHAEL: And if it shows up? DEAN: We'll be right in the next room. We're gonna come in with guns. So, as soon as we do you roll off this bed and you crawl under it. MICHAEL: What if you shoot me? DEAN: We won't shoot you. We're good shots. We're not going to fire until you're clear ok? Have you heard a gunshot before? MICHAEL: Like in the movies? DEAN: It's gonna be a lot louder than in the movies. So I want you to stay under the bed, cover your ears, do not come out until we say so. You understand? DEAN: Michael, you sure you wanna do this? DEAN: You don't have to, it's ok, I won't be mad. MICHAEL: No I'm ok. Just don't shoot me. DEAN: We're not going to let anything happen to you. I promise.

what a specific contrast that is with

DEAN hesitates, terrified. As he does JOHN bursts through the front door, gun raised. JOHN: (Shouting) Get out of the way! DEAN ducks and JOHN shoots the shtriga multiple times with his hand gun.

something wicked is up there with monster at the end of the book for episode titles that'll make you crazy if you think about it too much.

some other thoughts are just, the first time i watched this scene i thought i was going to explode with love:

DEAN: Yeah well, first of all, I'm not going to open fire in a freakin' pediatrics ward.... Second, wouldn't have done any good, because the bastard's bullet proof unless he's chowing down on something. And third, I wasn't packing, which is probably a really good thing cause I probably would have just burned a clip in him on principle alone.

moral compass boy i would die for you a thousand times and get up and gladly do it again.

and nothing - i mean nothing - hits like dean's voice cracking over the "if it means anything sometimes i do too." like i could actually go insane.

also watching supernatural is how you fill up a computer disc with pictures of dean looking ever so beautiful. like. look at him!! ethereal!!

also also ilu microaggression michael. they should have brought you back in the finale, king.

[purinfelix]

from your last post could i request pedri? from “about you” by the 1975 where perhaps reader and pedri had a past relationship all throughout high school and when pedri left for barcelona they lost contact / broke up but years later they reunite somehow? When they do it’s like a “i thought you’d forget about me by now” to “how could i forget about you?” maybe angst to fluff! sorry that was so long … i hope it made sense lol <33

did you think i'd have forgotten? ✶⋆.˚ - pedri gonzalez

w/c: 600 a/n: this is one of my fav songs of all time so tysm for this (and for giving a specific request HAHA) i got quite a few for this song but i liked this idea the most and thought it fit the best - hope u enjoy anon !! <3333

this is part of my 1k event - check out the rules here!!

He still looked exactly the same.

Or at least, from what you could make as your train sped past where he was standing on the platform - though you were pretty sure you could still faintly his features, that dark black hair, the crinkle in the corner of his eyes as he laughed.

It was all exactly the same.

And maybe it was the realisation, that feeling of noticing someone familiar in a place like this - or something deeper within you that you dared not to question - that pushed you to speed off the train at the last minute when this wasn't even your stop. Maybe it was this that made you walk, then jog, then sprint towards what you recognised as his figure in the distance.

But it was also the reminder of what happened between you two, all those years ago, that brought your sprint to a screeching halt. And what would be the chances of you running into your ex-boyfriend here, at a random station, far away from your hometown or the country he had left you to move to? How could you face him, after all that?

"Y/N, is that you?" Too late.

"Pedri?" you called out, your tone confused even though you had made up your mind about it being him long before he had.

"Woah, hi, what are you doing here!"

"I could ask you the same thing," you laugh, a little awkwardly.

"I'm here for a match, we're playing a local team."

"Oh, right," you smile, of course, "I study here."

There's a slight pause, in which you can see Pedri's expression turn into one of surprise. "I didn't know that."

"I mean, why would you?" You regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth, but it's too late since his face is already donning an apologetic look.

"Right, sorry," he mumbles, shoving his hands in his pockets as he looks at the floor. "What are you studying?" he says after a while of silence.

"Nursing," you say matter-of-factly.

"Of course, you'll be great at that," he says, offering a warm smile.

It's clear he's eager to make this exchange as normal as possible, and you'd probably be obliged to let him. But it's hard to be normal given what happened between the two of you, when this is the first time you've spoken to him in years.

"It's nice to see you," he says after another moment of silence.

"Same for you," you laugh shyly trying to avoid eye contact, "I figured you'd forgotten about me by now."

"How could I forget about you?" When you look into his eyes again, you're taken aback by how well his expression reflects his words - his brows tilted slightly up in the inner corners, a tender confusion at the fact that you'd think he'd dare to forget about you.

"Well, you know with how famous you are and everything, I see how they chant your names when you play," you begin to ramble, eager to explain yourself.

"Well, I'd hardly consider myself fam- wait, you watch my games?"

"Well, yeah," you sigh shyly, feeling your cheeks glow pink at the sight of his smirk. The two of you stand there, looking at each other for a while, exchanging sly glances - and it feels, just for a moment, like you're the same high schoolers who were in a puppy-love relationship.

"Are you doing anything now?" he asks you.

"Well, I was on my way to class but I'm probably late for that now."

"Do you want to grab some coffee? I want you to show me what's good around here," he smiles, "oh, and catch me up on how you're doing."

You feel your cheeks begin to ache from how wide you're smiling.

"I'd like that," you nod, "I'd like that a lot."