#ignoring things is not ever what i mean or want to do

[intromortal]

JEALOUS HEESEUNG BORDERLINE HATE FUCKS YOU !

pairing situationship!heeseung x f!reader

warnings smut. mdni. p in v, manhandling, name calling, hair pulling, mean hee won't kiss you

Heeseung, all things considered, is a pretty chill and laid back guy. Not prone to big displays of jealousy, especially if anywhere public. Most of the time he's quietly laying back on a couch at a party across the room, watching you with a glint in his eyes as time and time again you reject yet another guy trying to sneak his way into your pants. There’s something about the way you so obediently glance his way every time someone tries to flirt you, how your expression slightly shifts when he slouches further into the soft brown cushions, legs spread almost as if to invite you over on his lap.

It’s been months since you started fucking, and as embarrassing as it feels to admit, you two haven't really put a label on what your... status actually is. You’re definitely more than friends–though you don't know if you would even consider Heeseung your friend in the first place–but you also don't believe you're anywhere close to being a thing yet. That litter sliver of something keeps you fucking hooked on Heeseung though, as bad for you as it is.

And he enjoys every second of it. How you're so loyal to him even when he doesn't give you any reason to be.

He’s confident you'll follow him around everywhere like a little lost puppy as long as he keeps feeding you whatever crumb you need; a gentle brush of his hand whenever he greets you, a soft compliment whispered in your ear before leaving you to find something to drink, a sweet forehead kiss when at the end of the night you've both found your way between the bedsheets. I’ve got it under control, he thinks.

Yet he can't find any explanation–one that he’d make peace with, that is–for the scorching rage that overcomes him whenever he sees you and your bestie walking hand in hand around campus. The slightest twitch to his eye when he notices how bright you seem to be around Jay, how hard you laugh at his jokes and how touchy you seem to be, shoving his shoulder away when he makes a stupid comment, yet letting your hand linger on the cotton of his shirt. There’s a different light coming from within you when he's around, and Heeseung fucking hates it with his entire being.

So really, he can't help it when he completely loses the cool he so desperately tries to maintain around you the one he catches jay staring way too long at your ass for it to be a mistake. There’s nothing Heeseung would have loved more than to beat him to a pulp, for looking at his girl like that.

Except you're not his girl–he hadn't even realized he really wanted you to be until then–so he can't do that. What he can do instead is take it out on your poor unsuspecting pussy though.

"You are such a nasty slut," he whispers against your lips as he pistons into your weeping cunt, ignoring every attempt you make to kiss him, biting down on your bottom lip when you don't catch the hint. "Walking around in that tight black skirt, for what?" It feels like he's spitting venom at you, a primal edge to his tone unlike anything you've ever heard from him. Despite everything, you'd be lying if you said it didn't make your pussy clamp even harder around him, trying to milk his girth for all it’s worth.

You take too long to reply for his liking, his hand digging almost hurtfully in your face to force you to look at him. "For. What?"

"I– fuck, i don't know."

He looks at you incredulously, like you must've gone dumb on his cock already, while his movements come to halt, despite your little cries and begs for him not to.

"Yes you fucking do," he spits, grabbing your thighs and flipping you over onto your knees. A little scream ripped out of you at the sudden motion as he manhandles you in whatever way he wants, paying no mind to any possible aching body part of yours or any discomfort you may feel. "Wore it to flaunt this ass around, didn't you? I know you did."

He lands a harsh smack on the skin of your bottom, kissing his teeth in annoyance when your entire body jerks forward, front collapsing on the bed. He eases his cock back into you in one thrust, setting a pace that is somehow faster than earlier. "Wanted Jay to bend you over like this, huh?"

"N-no! I– ngh." Your rebuttal is cut short by his hips slamming into yours in a harsher thrust than the previous, his thick hand pushing your head against the sheets, uncaring of all the drool that's dripping from your mouth, your eyes rolling into your skull. He plants one of his feet into the soft mattress, the new angle helping him reach so much deeper inside you as the hold on your hips becomes nearly unbearable, sure to leave a flashy bruise.

Good, he thinks. Let everyone know I own you.

"Oh, shut the fuck up." He grabs some of your hair, using it as leverage to fuck into you even harder, the mix of pain and pleasure so unbelievably delicious you don’t even know what to do with yourself if not just lay there and take it all. "That’s all a slut like you is good for anyway, shut her mouth and let me use her pretty pussy as I please."

[captain-ashby]

All of this and more. I loved this game a lot, it had many strengths, and for me it stands next to the others in the series, if an inch or two lower. However this IS the heart of most of the problems with this game: the writers refused to allow conflict except with the antaam, the venatori, and the elven gods.

All the previous dragon age and mass effect games revolved around the fact that even the world's/galaxy's saviors are people who had one goal: save the world/galaxy, no matter how broken it is and how much you are hated. The HoF fought simultaneously against and for a nation that believed wholeheartedly that they were traitors. Hawke and his family/companions are made up of people that are considered the scum of the world. The Inquistor is wrongly persecuted as a heretic and has to fight against overwhelming religious and political pushback. Shephard CONSTANTLY is treated as little more than nuisance until the galaxy ending threat has already started, despite being one of the most decorated soldiers in the galaxy.

On top of this, their companions are a constant source of conflict. Tali/Legion, Jack/Miranda, Alistair/Morrigain, the entire da2 team, Solas/Sera, Dorian/Bull. Almost all the companions have centuries old prejudice baked into them, and more often than not they are willing to betray you and each other for their own goals. Where all of these games shine is leaning into that, working through the conflicts, and resolving them in ways that are satisfying.

Rook and his team face almost no pushback. Lucanis is a murderer and an abomination. Taash is Qunari, who are by and large considered zealous and violent conquerors. Davrin and Bellara have just had their gods almost destroy the world, and elves are almost always second-class citizens. Necromancy is not just accepted by the rest of the Thedas as just another school of magic.

In fact, mages in general no longer face any of the persecution they used to, despite the fact that Elgar'Nan, Ghilan'Nain and Solas are the most powerful mages to ever live and are responsible for almost all the major ills of the world. All of this isn't because the Veilguard has proven to the world that their prejudices are wrong, it is just... not addressed. Ignored. Rook is respected by everyone bar the comical villains (even then The Butcher respects you with no effort on the players part), with the exception of the people of the city Rook didn't personally go fight a high dragon for because they were busy fighting another one elsewhere.

And there's the crux. Theres no proving that you are the one in the right, or that there's a bigger evil to focus on. No political maneuvering. Theres not even really any conflict resolved outside of killing Venatori, Antaam, and darkspawn, all of whom are outcasts from any real society and as such have no real ramifications to being destroyed. The other BioWare heroes succeeded despite the world they were saving not wanting them, Rook succeeds because everyone puts their entire faith into one person.

Again, I enjoyed this game very much. But it forgets that "fighting against impossible odds" doesnt just mean mortal against deity, but also nation against nation, race against race, and ally against ally. Everyone in Veilguard comes across as a good person in need of a little therapy, when bioware as a whole thrives on stories about inherently flawed and tragic characters rallying together to do what MUST be done to save an ultimately ungrateful people.

TLDR: One line from the Inquisitor in Trespasser perfectly sums up the inherent frustration that permeates all other bioware games to create compelling stories, which I believe is the missing thread from Veilguard: "Dammit! We save Ferelden, and they're angry. We save Orlais, and they're angry. We close the Breach twice, and my own hand wants to kill me. Could one thing in this fucking world just stay fixed?!"

Why Fenris could Never Cameo in Dragon Age: The Veilguard

In the run up to Dragon age: The Veilguard, I was almost certain that Fenris would be our main legacy character from previous games. Not only has he been central in the comics released between DAI and DATV, he is an escaped Tevinter slave who's plot revolved around magisters, magic and the structural prejudices surrounding elves in Thedas. Not only that, but he's canonically in Tevinter killing slavers currently so he's geographically in the right place for us to meet him.

About halfway through the game though, it was clear to me: Fenris could never cameo in The Veilguard. Because he'd break it.

How the Veilguard treats Thedas is...odd to me, to say the least. I will be writing another post about how much I adored the expanded big lore in this game (the titans, ancient elves were spirits, where the blight came from etc.) and yet while these large lore expansions worked for me, the actual culture of modern Thedas is entirely softened, its sharp edges filed down until it's a sanitised fantasy world devoid of what made the franchise so vibrant and compelling in the first place.

So let's start with Fenris and slavery. In all three games, the reality of slavery is pushing at the corners of the world. In DAO Loghain allows Tevinter Magisters to enslave elves in order to raise money for his war effort. In DA2 Fenris is fighting to be free from slavers who will not leave him be, let alone the reminders that the city was built by slaves which are everywhere. In DAI one of the two possible mini-bosses is Calpurnia who was a slave, and characters such as Gatt and Dorian both show us how much slavery is tied into Tevinters culture and success.

But DATV the first game actually set in Tevinter where we get to see the famed Minrathous...it's like the game purposefully wants to avoid the issue. I can feel it tilting the camera away to not allow me to see. Slavery is mentioned, but never talked about in depth or as a specifically ELVEN problem in Tevinter. This might have been done to be less problematic, it feels ignored.

We are in DOCK TOWN. We are at the DOCKS. You would think that slaves from all over Thedas who are being smuggled and bought by various groups would be everywhere. You would think that the injustice in dock town would be partly built on the back of ships we've seen in the comics crammed with elves in chains. This is the world Dragon age set up for us. And yet...nothing. zilch. A tiny easily skippable side quest where we free a couple of venatori slaves, but only one of whom is an elf.

None of our Tevinter characters seem to have been influenced by their culture even a little bit when it comes to how they view elves; there is no moment when Neve fucks up and says something prejudiced, no moment when Bellara or Davrin are distrustful of her for being a Tevinter mage.

The same goes for Zevran; a character who epitomised the issues with the crows. The crows have consistently been characterised as very morally dubious assassins who kill for the highest bidder and who buy children on the slave market and torture them as they grow in order to assure that they reach maturity able to withstand torture without giving away a client's name. Zevran is very explicit about the fact that if you fail a contract your life is forefit.

Nobody responds particularly to you if you're an elf. Nobody trusts rook less for it in Tevinter. Nobody treats Rook any differently. Even DAI had better mechanics for this; with nobles in Orlais less likely to trust you as an elf.

Considering one of the main plot points of this game and what makes Solas sympathetic is the fact that he was fighting against the slavery of ancient elves...you'd think the game might want to mirror that in modern Thedas. It might want to show us how characters fighting to end slavery in Tevinter are similar to Solas and how the society Solas fought against was similar to the one that characters we love such as Fenris have fought against in modern Thedas. Maybe we'd want to explore how in a world of slavery like this, how could the answer NOT be to tear it all down? Maybe we should have that option at the end of the game so it really can chose whether we agree with Solas and his plans or not.

Adding Fenris to this game would entirely break the game because Fenris refuses to allow you to look away from this horror. He is a sympathetic character who had to learn to trust mages again because of course he didn't trust them. Of course he didn't. Fenris wouldn't allow the camera to shift focus because he's literally covered in the lyrium scars that show how slaves are used as experiments in Tevinter. Fenris WOULD question Neve on how she feels about elves and slaves. Fenris WOULD have things to say about Lucanis and the crows (let alone the fact Lucanis is an abomonation). So he could never be in this game; he'd drop a bomb on it's carefully constructed blinders to the very society its supposed to be set in.

And yet, in DATV, the crows are presented as...a found family of misfits and orphans? The politician who opposes the crows having absolute power in Antiva is framed as a comically evil idiot who doesn't understand that the crows are ontologically good. Yet...they're NOT. Crows in this game act more like a secret rebel group than an assassin organisation. We see no crow taking contracts with the VERY RICH venatori magisters despite being hired killers. We see crows just refuse to kill people despite having a contract because 'its crueler to leave them alive'. The crows don't feel like the crows here, they feel like a softened version of a cool assassin group who are cool because they wear black and purple.

Our pirate group are also sanitised; the Lords of Fortune are good pirates who only steal treasure that's not culturally significant. Theyve clearly read the modern critiques of the British Museum and have decided to explicitly stop anyone levelling similar critiques at them. There is no faction of the Lords of Fortune who aren't like this, no internal arguments about it. Everyone just. Agrees. And is able to accurately tell what a cultural artifact is vs. what treasure that you can have yourself is. Rather than showing us why a pirate stealing cultural artifacts might be bad (like in da2 where such a situation literally causes a coup and a war) it just tells us it's bad. But also pirates are cool so we still want them in our world.

This issue seaps into Thedas and drains it of any of the interesting complexity and ability to SAY anything that this franchise had before this game. It becomes a game about telling and not showing rather than the other way around. The games have ALWAYS asked questions about oppressive structural systems and their interplay with society, religion and culture and how these things can affect even the most well meaning character. Dragon age at its best IS a game about society and how society functions both for and against it's characters and what happens to societies built on cruelty and indifference. The best bad guys dragon age has given us are those who are bad because they embody these systems or have been shaped by them. Our main characters have had to wrestle with questions surrounding how to exist in these systems, fight against them, learn and grow.

Yet every group you come across in DATV is sanitised and cleaned up to the point of being as non problematic as humanly possible. None of our cast of characters have to wrestle with where they came from or the world that shaped them. None of them have to confront their own biases. They start the game perfectly non-problematic and end it that way too.

And this just...isn't what Dragon Age has been in the past. It isn't why I love the franchise. The whole game just felt, in a way, hollow. And this was a CHOICE and it is why the legacy characters are few and far between. Too many dragon age characters are just too...angry and complex for this game. You can feel them pulling their punches on this one. I have to imagine they did this because they didn't want to be criticised or have too much controversy? But I think it honestly goes far too much in the other direction and just makes it bland.

I can't imagine what I say here will be unique, but it is the basis for a LOT of my other thoughts on this game so I wanted to get it out of the way first. The softened Thedas and characters make this game by far the weakest in the franchise.

[bronzeyslcve]

take charge - lucy bronze

pairing: lucy bronze x female reader

theme: smut

warnings: smut, minors dni, fingering, strap-on use, oral sex, praise kink, gag use, orgasm control, submissive lucy, pet names, use of y/n

summary: lucy has always been the dominant one out of the two of you throughout your entire five year relationship. when leah tears her acl, Sarina gives you the armband for the World Cup. Something about you in the armband turns lucy on and suddenly, she wants you to take control in the bedroom…

notes: based on this request, thank you sm anon! whilst writing this, half of it didn’t save so i had to rewrite most of the match part so sorry if it’s really bad <3

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It was heartbreaking watching Leah tear her ACL, the three letters confirming to you and all of your England teammates that your captain would miss the World Cup. You had no idea who Sarina would give the armband to, you thought Millie would receive it, or even Lucy, she deserved it more than most in your definite non-biased opinion. But Sarina had other plans. You were announced as the captain for the World Cup. Naturally, you were honoured to not only represent your country but to know hopefully captain them to a World Cup win, it was a childhood dream come true and Lucy couldn’t have been prouder of you.

So far, you had lead the team through the group stages, having won all three matches and you couldn’t be happier. You had noticed a slight change in Lucy ever since your first game against Haiti, but you put it down to just tournament nerves. Not knowing what was really going through her head. Having no clue that seeing you lead all the girls on the pitch, wearing that armband and being much more commanding and even more confident then you normally are, has been doing things to her.

All this week, you had been preparing for the game against Nigeria. You weren’t stupid, you knew it was going to be tough. They’re physical. Way more physical than the Lionesses but you were all ready. Or that’s what you thought. You played in the left-wing back position, which allowed you to cover the back and push up a little, which you loved doing. You had a good link up going with Georgia but Nigeria were quick to break it, quick to have you marked down and so you could do nothing, not really, except for telling your girls what to do.

Rarely, anger was never an emotion you dealt with on the pitch. You never got angry, not really, the last time you had it was the champions league final back in 2020 for an unjust foul committed on you that should’ve been a penalty, but it wasn’t awarded. However, watching you get awarded a penalty in the 31st minute and then having it taken off of you in the 34th just really pissed you off. You thought it should’ve stood. But it didn’t. When you’re angry on the pitch, you get a touch more aggressive, more loud and much more pissed if things don’t go your way. And that’s exactly what starts to happen.

The last minutes of the first half are basically just filled with you shouting at the girls, telling them what to do, putting challenges in on the Nigerian players, but still being careful to not get carded for them. When you come off for half time, Lucy is the first one over to you, putting her arm around your waist, whilst you two walk back through the tunnel. All of the fans knew about your relationship, I mean the pair of you never made any effort to hide it, meaning you could be more open with some of your affections.

“That should’ve been a fucking penalty,” you huff, as you walk towards the changing rooms, Lucy’s arm never leaving its position of being wrapped around your waist.

“I know baby, I know. Don’t threat about it though, we’ll be okay, we have you, you’re playing exceptional as always,” Lucy reassured you, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head, ignoring the feelings stirring inside of her from watching you get angry on the pitch. From wearing that armband. You have absolutely no clue how much you’re turning her on.

“Luce, I’ve hardly done anything,” you sigh softly as you make your way through the changing room and sit down at your cubby, which is conveniently next to your girlfriends.

“Yes you have. The passes that you have managed to make have been perfect, you’ve kept the left locked down and you’ve been commanding us really well.”

You smile softly at her and she presses a gentle peck to your lips before whispering against them lowly, “It’s very hot actually,” before she leaves to use the toilet to adjust herself.

Sarina gives her usual half time speech, telling you all on how to improve, then about ten minutes later you’re all back on the pitch. The knowledge that Lucy finds how you’re carrying yourself on the pitch hot, sends sparks flying through you. You weren’t thinking about that, not at all, but now, it’s in the back of your mind and you can’t help but want to impress her just a little more.

By the 83rd minute, most of the girls are tired. Nigeria’s physicality is just knackering the entire team. Sarina still hasn’t made any changes and it’s annoying you a little bit, your team are tired, substitutions need to be made. That’s why it doesn’t surprise you as much when frustrations get the better of Lauren James. Sure, her stamp on Alozie was completely unnecessary, but you understand why she did it. You’re frustrated too, however you have the maturity, which Lauren lacks and needs to work on, to time your tackles right, to not foul a player as said tackles you have committed have all been completely legal. Yes your frustrations did get the better of you in the 73rd minute leading to you getting a yellow card, but that was only for talking back to the ref, who you now had down as being a wanker, you didn’t like her. You knew the red card was coming to Lauren, a blind idiot would know, but that still doesn’t mean it didn’t hit the team hard. Being forced to drop to ten whilst you’re already struggling isn’t really an ideal situation.

The last eight minutes were utter hell for England. Scrappy, sloppy, whatever the commentators want to call it. You are extremely lucky to be going into extra time and not home. There were multiple shots from Nigeria that could’ve gone in but didn’t.

When the first fifteen minutes of extra time roll around after the short break, Nigeria’s tactics are slightly different. They try to test you, try to exploit the left side which they haven’t for the entire game. However you’re successful at keeping it locked down, not letting them get around you, which means they take back up their usual routine of going down the middle or the right.

In the 98th minute, a diagonal ball that’s just completely ignored by Millie could’ve easily been scored, it was a big chance for Nigeria. A huge one, it could’ve won them the game. But it didn’t. That still doesn’t mean that you didn’t have a few stern words with your vice captain. Millie understood and she was incredibly apologetic, knowing she fucked up, her words, not yours, she’s tired. All of the girls are, you couldn’t blame her that much, so you just remind her to stay alert and on her player, that’s all really.

You notice Nigeria decide to attack down the right, and Lucy isn’t doing all that well. She seems distracted by something. You’ve never shouted at Lucy on the pitch before, but you just have to, she has to lock that right side down, you can’t concede.

“Luce, c’mon snap out of it, stay on her!” you shout at your girlfriend and Lucy is quick to react. She improves her marking of Ajibade instantly and doesn’t let her past her, locking the right down just how you wanted. Yet again, you had no idea what you had just done to Lucy. The way you commanded her stirred something primal within her, but she was quick to snap out of it: remembering your earlier words, not wanting to disappoint you. It was a weird feeling for Lucy, but she was sure that if you asked her to do anything: she’d do it for you.

The first half of the extra time comes to an end and you have a little break, having a quick gel and then a word with the girls to just play their best and for now push through the pain and the tiredness for their county. For winning this game and for hopefully winning the World Champion title in a few weeks time.

The second half of extra time kicks off and it’s an improvement from the first, you have a second substitution now, so more fresh legs and Beth England is an excellent player.

In the back of your mind, you know that ever since Lauren’s red card you’ve had less possession and have not had a single shot. You pray to change that. You want one to end up in the back of that net, not really wanting to have to end up with going to penalties. But it seems like fate has other ideas. There was a couple of chances that England had in that last half, but unfortunately none could connect. So penalties it is.

A few minutes break is allocated for a breather to discuss who would take the penalties and in what order. It would be Georgia, then Beth, then Rachel, then you, then Chloe and then Alex for the first six, if all six are needed of course. Then the rest of the girls were also ordered, if more than five had to be taken. You had taken a few penalties in your time, all in shootouts, and you’d scored all of them. So you were pretty confident in yourself.

You stood next to Lucy at the end of the line, one arm wrapped around her waist as you watched Georgia set up to take her shot, hoping, praying it would go in. It didn’t, but you were still proud of the midfielder nevertheless she’d played a good game, and you had every faith in Mary in saving the one. Which she doesn’t even need to do because Oparanozie misses the target.

All of the England players scream when Beth slots it perfectly in the back of the next. 1-0 to England. When Alozie steps up to take Nigeria’s second, you hold your breath and when she skies it, you sigh in relief. Lucy quickly pressing a soft kiss to your head.

Rachel scores the next one, slamming it into the top left corner, however Ajibade also scores her one too. 2-1.

Usually when you take penalties, you’re not nervous. Not at all. But you can feel them tingling away around your body. You set the ball down and then close your eyes, quickly taking a moment to breathe, to block out all of the sound of the fans, and to focus on where you’re going to try and slot the ball. When you open your eyes, you focus on the opposite spot, to throw the keeper off, focusing on the bottom right.

You take in a breath and then strike the ball, to which it slots in beautifully in the top left hand corner. The keeper diving completely the wrong way. You run up and jump into Lucy’s arms, her pressing a soft kiss to your lips, which makes fans in the stands go wild. That’ll be in TikTok edits later, but you don’t care. After you, Ucheibe scores hers for Nigeria and then Chloe’s up.

You squeeze Lucy’s hand, if this goes in you’ve done it. You’re through to the World Cup quarter finals. And of course, Chloe Kelly slots it in and England are through. After an incredibly challenging, tiring game, you’d done it. England through to the next round, thank fuck. Nigeria put up a good fight, it was crystal clear they wanted it just as much as you did, the game truly could’ve gone either way.

After consolidating the Nigerian team, you get into the team huddle, standing in between Sarina and then Lucy on your other side, listening to the gaffer give her little post match speech before you have to give yours, a little bit of that aggressive, more dominant edge still clinging to your voice. As Lucy listens to you, she feels that urge cross her body again, the one that’s willing to do whatever you say. To be your good girl. It’s a weird feeling for her. Lucy has never, ever felt this way before. She’s not submissive. She never has been. But seeing you, like this, all commanding, angry and dominant it’s doing things to her and suddenly she craves for you to take charge of her, like you’ve done on the pitch.

After you’ve said what you’ve needed to, you look over at your girlfriend and notice that tiny glint in her eye which means she’s turned on, that makes you raise an eyebrow slightly, wondering how and why. But you just shrug it off, listening to what some of the other girls have to say about the game whilst Lucy’s eyes are fixed on the captains band sitting on your left arm.

A few hours later, you finally manage to get away from all of the girls, Lucy saying the pair of you need an early night. You make it up to your room, and then she’s on you, her lips immediately seeking out yours, kissing you passionately, but not rough like she normally is.

“Put your kit back on, especially the armband,” she breathes against your lips, causing you to furrow your eyebrows.

“You want me to put my dirty, sweaty kit back on? Seriously?” you ask, your tone incredulous, confused beyond belief.

“Mhm, please Y/n, put it on,” she begs, her eyes pleading with yours.

You look at her gone out. What the bloody hell is happening? Lucy had never ever begged you to do anything (unless it’s get her cake) in the entirety of your five year relationship. It takes you a few seconds to deliberate the idea in your head but with a soft sigh you nod and grab your bag that you brought up here earlier, just after the game before the dinner you’ve just had, to get it out of the way.

“Do I have to put my pads back on?” you question as you strip from the England gear you currently had on, getting back into your football kit from the match earlier.

“It’s up to you Y/n, you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Lucy states softly as she watches you intently, her eyes glued to the armband that’s now sat back on your left bicep and she swears she feels her knees going weak.

You nod and decide against putting them back on, not actually needing them for whatever you’re about to do. The answer she gives you is not “very Lucy��, usually she would’ve told you exactly what she wants. For extra measure, you put your hair back up into the style of a rather neat bun, much neater than the ones Lucy does in her hair are. You look at yourself in the mirror quickly before glancing back at the brunette, something about seeing yourself in the armband has made that sense of pride and dominance return, exactly what Lucy wanted.

“This what you wanted hm Luce? Want to get me in my kit so I could take charge?” you had finally caught on to what she wanted, it just all clicked and fucking hell, taking charge in the bedroom, of Lucy is an incredibly hot thought.

“Please y/n, I’ll be a good girl, I promise, I need you,” she whines, her usual dominance having completely melted away. It’s almost like another woman is stood in front of you.

“Dirty girl, getting turned on by seeing me get all angry and aggressive on the pitch. I should just leave you here, wanting and not getting anything,” you hum before gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ears, a direct contrast to your words.

“No, please, don’t, I need you baby, I’m so desperate, please.”

God she sounds so so so pretty when she whines, when she begs. You’ve never heard it before, and you want to hear more of it, you’ll make sure Lucy does her fair share of begging before she gets anything from you.

“You sound so pretty when you beg Luce, what you desperate for hm? What do you want me to do?” you ask, fully aware that you’re being a tease, but you know she’ll do what you want.

“I want you to fuck me, please Y/n.”

A small groan slips past your lips at her admission, normally you’re the ones saying those words, begging her to have her way with you. Now it’s the other way around and you love it and of course, you’ll give her exactly what she wants, eventually.

Your lips find hers, kissing her rather hungrily before you start to trail your kisses down the column of her throat, occasionally dragging your teeth over her skin, making her shiver.

“Fuck baby, please stop teasing,” Lucy pleads, her head tilted back slightly, allowing you to have slightly better access to her neck.

“And why should I do that hm?” you question before connecting your lips again, the kiss all teeth and tongue, with you in full control. Your lips stay intact as you reach the edge of the bed, only breaking apart for a few seconds to push her down gently, before kissing her once more.

Lucy whimpers into the kiss, wanting so much more than she’s currently getting, needing you to push her over the edge and give her the orgasm she so desperately craves, that she so desperately needs.

Momentarily, you break the kiss to take off her top, and then her sports bra, carelessly throwing them over your shoulder. You ignore her boobs, for now, going back to roughly making out with her. She lets out another little whimper into your mouth a few seconds later, needing more.

“Is there something wrong Lucia?” you hum teasingly, using her full name which you know has an effect on her, knowing full damn well what she wants.

“I need more Y/n,” she mewls, now having taken to squeezing her thighs together to get a touch a friction.

When you see what she’s doing, you click your tongue in disapproval before then gently pull her legs apart, slotting yourself in between them.

“Oh really? Is what I’m doing not enough for you?”

“N-no, please, give me more.”

Puppy eyes was the last thing you’d expect to see from Lucy, but god they do look adorable. And you find yourself giving in, very slightly to what she wants. Your mouth finds her right boob, gently kissing over it before flickering your tongue over her nipple. After a few little flicks, you tug it between your teeth, then run your tongue over it, soothing the small amount of pain. Your hand finds her left one, kneading the flesh delicately ahead of your fingers twisting and lightly pulling at that nipple, whilst the other one gets taken properly into your mouth for you to suck on.

A mix between a moan and a whimper leaves your girlfriend’s throat and it sounds beautiful, like music to your ears. You keep up with what you’re doing for a while before pulling away and kissing down her chest, littering it with love bites, then you move onto trailing your tongue down her stomach to the waistband of her joggers. Quickly, you get them off of her, leaving her in just her boxers, a very noticeable dark wet patch on the front of the dark cotton.

“Fuck look at you, I’ve hardly touched you and you’re soaked. God if I’d have known if me being captain would make you this needy, I would’ve begged Sarina to have been captain for the Euros too.”

That makes Lucy whine again and squirm a little, wiggling her hips, trying to get you right where she needs you.

“Stop teasing me, please baby,” she whimpers once more, growing stupidly needy.

At first, her whines and her begging you sounded perfect, you loved them, but now, they are getting on your nerves very slightly, just like yours must do to her. Now you realise why she doesn’t like it when you’re whiny and are begging her insistently. Not when you have a plan in place of what you’re doing and she’s just being so goddamn impatient.

“No, stop fucking begging,” you practically growl, but she doesn’t listen, whining a little more and bucking her hips up to almost remind you where you’re so desperately needed.

“Please baby, I need you, it aches, fuck me, please.”

You raise your eyebrows at her so blatantly ignoring you, your hand finds your captains band on your arm and you tug it down before forcing it into Lucy’s mouth.

“There. Now we’re all nice and quiet hm?”

Lucy moans around the gag of your armband and it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard, you just hope that you get to hear it again. Sure enough, when your mouth finds her inner thighs after pulling down her boxers, that same noise spills from her throat.

A small smirk tugs onto your lips as you kiss, lick, nip and suck at Lucy’s inner thighs, not darling to inch just that little higher and run your tongue through her soaked folds. Admittedly, you were savouring every second of this, you’d never ever taken her like this. She’s always been sat on your face and there was no time to tease her, so you’d never properly gone down on Lucy.

When you finally do decide to give her a little of what she needs, languidly swiping your tongue over her drenched slit, avoiding her clit like the plague, the prettiest little sound slips around the gag of your armband, something like a moan mixed with a small cry.

You go back to then sucking at her inner thighs, just wanting to tease her a touch more before you really give her what she wants. Lucy’s frustrated, but she doesn’t vocalise it, not whimpering around the gag, nor does she show it, her hips remain planted on the bed, hands screwed up in the duvet: not daring to touch you without your permission. For her your dominance was exhilarating, your armband in her mouth silencing her was what she thought was the hottest thing ever and the sheer confidence you have in taking charge does in fact have her incredibly needy; evidenced in just how soaking wet she is.

After a few seconds, when you see no physical reaction from Lucy to your teasing, you smile and lean up to press a soft kiss to her cheek.

“Such a good girl for me hm? Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll give you what you want,” you coo before dipping your head back down towards her dripping sex.

Those two words, “good girl” have Lucy literally melting in a puddle for you. Involuntarily, her pussy clenches around nothing, clit throbs with need and the moan she lets out - which is slightly muffled - is perfect.

At the revelation that Lucy has a bit of a praise kink going on, you smirk, you’re going to use that to your advantage. As your tongue once again swipes over her slit, your eyes remain locked onto your girlfriends, watching how within seconds of your ministrations, they roll into the back of her head.

“My good girl,” you husk against her cunt before your lips find her clit, sucking just how she likes as one of your fingers teases around her entrance, not dipping inside just yet.

The possession mixed with the praise has Lucy letting out another moan around her gag and as soon as your lips finally find her clit, a muffled cry tumbles from her lips.

You continue with sucking her clit, pushing just one finger inside of her, groaning into her pussy as you feel just how tight she is, how warm she is. When she’s in charge, Lucy rarely lets you finger her, she always forces you to use your mouth and nothing else, it’s because she’s never been much of a receiver. Always giving. But when she’s does want something, the quickest way to get her off is to eat her out, so she’d make you do just that: so she could get back to fucking you quicker.

Slowly, you pump your finger in and out of her, a second one soon joining the first, feeling her walls stretch a little to accommodate it. You can already feel Lucy getting closer to the edge, so you slow down even more. You want to draw this out. You want to prep her to take the strap.

“Doing so well for me sweetheart, think you can take a third for me?” you ask her softly, pulling your mouth away from her clit for just a few seconds, still fucking her with your fingers.

Eagerly, Lucy nods. She wants to take it, to be your good girl, she knows she can take them too. You smile at her and then once again dip your head back down. Your tongue swirls over her clit gently, before you go back to sucking the sensitive nub.

A third finger slowly joins the second two, and your curl up all three of them, causing the right back to let out another muffled cry around the gag. The stretch for her is perfect, the feeling of taking three of your fingers is sensational, it feels like heaven. With each thrust of your fingers, Lucy can feel them hitting her g-spot, which makes her face contort with pleasure.

You speed up your fingers and your sucking, determined to push her over the edge, wanting to make her cum hard. Lucy’s knuckles turn white with how hard she’s now clenching the duvet, her back arching slightly, eyes now squeezed shut, stars dancing behind her eyelids. With what sounds to be like a moan of your name around your armband, she comes undone, harder than she ever has done. Just like you wanted.

Your movements slow, gently rocking your fingers inside of her, so she can ride out her orgasm. You press a gentle kiss to her clit before pulling your mouth of her, so you can murmur gentle reassurances to her as she comes back down from her high.

“You did so good for me sweetheart, such a good girl,” you state softly whilst gently easing your fingers out of her, which you clean by sucking on them.

The sight of you sucking and moaning around your fingers, coated in her cum, has Lucy getting worked back up again, which you obviously notice.

“You need more hm?” you tease as you ease your armband out of her mouth, pulling it back on to your left arm.

“Please, w..want you to use the strap,” she admits breathlessly, her voice slightly hoarse from your armband being in her mouth for so long, her eyes watching as you put it back where it belongs: slightly wet from her mouth.

“Hmm, do you think you deserve it?”

Lucy simply nods as she watches you pull down your shorts, the underwear you’re wearing are very damp, a clear sign of your own arousal.

“Me too, you’ve been my good girl after all,” you hum, pressing your lips to hers, giving her a soft peck.

When you’re at home, the strap usually resides in the bedside table, and Lucy always wears it. When you’re on camp, you have it in a bag that sits in the wardrobe with all of your other toys. You give Lucy a few more pecks, before getting off the bed and walking over to the wardrobe. The doors are slightly ajar on it as you must’ve forgotten to close it after grabbing your kit bag from it earlier.

You find the bag which is sat in the back of the cupboard and pull it forward, undoing the zipper on it. There’s not many toys in there, you have way more at home, but neither you nor Lucy were going to weigh your suitcases down when you flew out here, to Australia, with sex toys.

The harness gets pulled out of the bag and then so does a seven inch sleek black dildo that you’ll clip into the front of it. You make your way back over to the bed, the two items in hand and then nestle yourself in between Lucy’s spread legs.

You set the things down onto the mattress and then remove your shirt, tossing it somewhere in the room, leaving you in just your sports bra and underwear.

From the countless times of watching Lucy put the strap on, you know exactly what you’re doing. Your underwear come off and then you attach the harness to your hips. The brunettes eyes beneath you are fixated on your own soaked cunt, which you’re not even thinking about, your full focus is on giving your girl exactly what she needs.

“See something you like sweetheart?” you taunt whilst clipping the dildo into the slot at the front.

“Mhm, you’re so beautiful Y/n. Can you take your bra off, please?” she asks softly, her hand coming to paw at the material gently.

You smile and gently take her hand, kissing her knuckles before letting it go and removing the final item of clothing, which also makes Lucy smile.

“That what you wanted Luce?”

“Yes, y..you look perfect, I love you,”

“I love you too sweetheart.”

You gently kiss her forehead, then her cheek, the tip of her nose and then her lips. You kiss her for a few seconds, it’s gentle, unlike your earlier, more rougher, demanding ones.

After those few seconds, you pull away and then adjust your positioning, running the head of the dildo through her folds, which causes her to gasp.

“Fuck baby, please, n-need you,” she whimpers as you line the tip up with her entrance.

“Shh sweetheart, I know, you’re being so good for me,” you croon before you slowly push the strap into her, your eyes fixated on her pussy swallowing it, the sight getting engraved into the back of your mind.

In all honesty, you thought Lucy had never looked more beautiful. Her eyes almost closed, lips parted, one hand gripping the sheets, the other now gripping onto one of yours, her hair sprawled out against the pillows, her face contorted in sheer pleasure, her abs slightly tensed, the sounds escaping her and the way her pussy looks swallowing your goddamn strap. This was something you were going to remember for a long, long time.

“Shit Luce, you’re so tight, doing so well for me,” you grunt as you start to slowly thrust in and out of her, your eyes moving up to her face, to watch her reaction to your movements.

The praise has her letting out a small whimper, which turns into a loud moan as you start move. Her hand that’s in yours grips it a little tighter, for her it feels weird, she feels so full, stretched so beautifully, she could definitely get used to the feeling.

“F..fuck, feels so good Y/n. Harder, please,” she begs softly and it’s impossible to not give her what she wants, after all she has been good for you.

You increase the force of your thrusts, little grunts occasionally tumbling from your lips, like the ones that you make when lifting in the gym and Lucy fucking loves it. She loves hearing the little noises you’re making, knowing you’re enjoying it just as much as she is.

“Taking me so well, my good fucking girl.”

Lucy’s eyes roll into the back of her head, the praise making everything so much better for her, she can feel herself getting closer, her small moans getting louder, her walls gripping your strap tighter.

“Baby I’m close, p..please don’t stop,” Lucy pleads, her legs shaking slightly from the force off the orgasm that’s she’s so close to letting go of.

“Not yet sweetheart, hold it for me,” you demand softly whilst pushing your strap deeper into her, your hips snapping slightly faster. Selfishly, you don’t want her to cum yet, for it to all be over. You don’t know if you’ll ever get to experience this again, to watch Lucy take your strap, to be the one on top, the one in charge. So you just want to draw this out for as long as possible and you know Lucy will listen to you.

Lucy doesn’t complain, she just simply nods, opening her eyes properly to look at you. To her you look perfect. Your eyes are completely darkened with lust, watching her, your hairs up in that damn bun, some of the strands coming loose and sticking to your forehead and your captains armband is sat snug around your left bicep: you look like heaven to her.

“Look at you, look so fucking pretty taking my cock,” you practically growl, your eyes now back to watching her pussy take the toy as you pound into her faster, which makes her moans even louder.

“Y/n, please c..can’t hold it any longer,” she whines, her hand tightening in yours to ground herself as she knows her orgasm is going to be intense. She can feel it.

“Fuck, cum for me sweetheart, cum all over my cock.”

With a sudden cry, Lucy comes undone, her legs shaking slightly from its intensity, her eyes now rolled back, her back arched a little and her face contorted up in sheer bliss. You don’t know where to look, her face, her cunt, at the way her abs tense. You keep your eyes on her face, watching how it twists with pleasure, your hips slow down, still gently rocking the toy in and out of her, allowing her to ride out her high.

“That’s it sweetheart, such a good girl,” you hum, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead before ever so gently easing the toy out of her sensitive pussy, revelling in the way it grips your strap harder, as if it doesn’t want you to leave.

Once the toy is out, you quickly undo the harness and then toss it off, throwing it onto the floor. You then lay down next to your girlfriend, wrapping your arms around her gently, allowing her to cuddle into you, whilst you pressed gentle kisses all over her face.

“T..that was incredible,” Lucy managed to exclaim a few minutes later after coming down from the most incredible high she’d ever experienced.

“It was, my god you looked so beautiful Luce, who knew seeing me be captain could get you so worked up,” you couldn’t help but tease, watching as she responds by playfully rolling her eyes.

“Hm, I don’t know what can over me, it was just like hot, watching you take charge of everyone on the pitch y’know?”

“Mhm, I think I’ll beg Sarina to let me be captain forever now if that happens every time after we have a game.”

Lucy swats your shoulder playfully, her eyes watching as you pull off the armband and toss it onto the nightstand.

“No, I couldn’t focus on the game at points because all I was focused on was you baby,” she points out with a small smile, her lips gently pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Oh really?” you ask, rhetorically, as you think back to the game earlier that day which feels like it was years ago. “That actually makes a lot of sense, I knew something else was going on earlier, it has been the entire tournament,”

“Yep, ever since the Haiti game. I’ve been wanting you to take charge for a little while now,”

“Well I definitely want to do it again,” you suggest with a little smirk crossing your lips, making her chuckle.

“Ditto baby.”

With that, it didn’t take the pair of you that long to fall asleep, all tangled up in each other, your bodies exhausted from the match you played in earlier and then the incredible sex you’d just had. As you slept, there was one thing you both knew for certain: you’d been taking charge much more often.

[whoreforsexymen]

This might be kind a kind of crazy request but hear me out, but feel free to ignore if your uncomfortable. So it's Jace Talis x reader SFW but it aludes to smut. Basicaly jayce wants to gets freaky with his girl or guy or whatever, but Jayce want to watch victor get freaky with the reader, Jayce's partner. I don't want to see any smut, but I just want to see the conversation go down between Jayce and Victor, of Jayce asking Victor if we would like to smash his partner and watch them lol.

Your wish is my command, darling. Sit back and let Mommy do her thing 🤍 (Also, tagging this as NSFW since it uses strong language, and heavily eludes to is directly about cucking.)

Jayce asking you to cuck him w/ Viktor | Flash

Pairings: Jayce Talis x Reader x Viktor

Pronouns: None used for Reader. Can be read as GN!!

Rating: NSFW, 18+ MDNI !!!!!

Word Count: 447

Tags: Cuckholding, Implied M/M (if you squint), Heavy implications of sex (duh), maybe slight OOC Jayce (also, if you squint), slight Sub!Jayce (if you REALLY REALLY SQUINT)

Notes: I have yet to watch S2 because I already can’t handle the heartbreak I know is waiting around the corner for me. So this is written with S1 Viktor and Jayce!!

Also, my first request!!! EEEE!! I hope you like it!! I wrote this so fast cause I was so excited and had nothing else to do hehehe xo

I ALSO KNOW YOU ASKED FOR THE CONVO TO BE BETWEEN VIKTOR AND JAYCE— WHICH ILL DO SOON, TOO, AS A PART 2!! But I liked this idea better ansjdkdkskkkkk for now!!

“…What?” You ask, bewildered.

“I know— I know it’s a weird request. But. I don’t know. I just think it would be hot to watch you… y’know… get fucked by someone else. And— I mean. It’s not like there’s anyone I trust more than Viktor—“ Jayce spoke quickly, a hint of embarrassment lacing his words as he let out a nervous chuckle, his fidgeting betraying his best efforts to exude a calm facade.

He swallowed tightly, his nerves making him feel exposed and helpless, like a child left alone in the dark.

“So. Let me get this straight. I just want to make sure I’m hearing you right. You want Me— And— Viktor, to fuck… While you watch?” You ask plainly.

Jayce swallowed once more, his nerves spiraling as he struggled to hold himself together.

“That is what I said… yes.” He mutters, scratching the back of his neck.

You stare at him, dumbfounded. The idea itself doesn’t catch you off guard—not really. In fact, it stirs something exciting within you. It’s a little unconventional, sure, but you’re not opposed to exploring what could lie ahead for your sex life with Jayce. You might enjoy letting him take the lead most of the time, but there’s something about the way he’s dancing around this topic in particular— too nervous to be bold—that sparks a fire in your gut.

“Hmm.” You hum softly, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth.

“Is it just because you wanna see your boyfriend naked~?” You tease, your hands resting lightly on his chest as you look up at him, your gaze heavy with playfulness, smoldering as always.

Jayce stammers harder than before.

“I- wh- No. Pfft. It’s just- I just-..” He can’t even continue his stammering before you kiss him. It was a soft and chaste one, yet needy in its own way, and above all—understanding.

After several long seconds, once you sense his nerves start to settle, you slowly pull away, the tension lingering in the space between you.

“We can do that.” You say softly, giving him one extra peck to the lips.

“Really?” He queries, unsure of if you’re being truthful.

You emit a gentle chuckle.

“Yes, my love�� I’m open to it.” You explain, running your hands along his chest… Over his vest… and down the length of his tie. You felt him shudder beneath your wandering hands.

“Why don’t you ask Viktor, and if he’s open to it, we can try… let’s see… tonight, hmm?” You ask, leaning in and nibbling his ear ever so teasingly.

After a long pause, Jayce finally speaks again, his voice quieter now, as if weighing his words more carefully.

“I already asked him. He said yes.”

[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.

[dreameryfics]

JJ MAYBANK x READER

Summary: The Kooks show up on the beach and JJ defends you

I was with the Pogues all day, like any other day. The sun was shining and the waves were awesome. We woke up that morning and quickly went to the beach. It seemed like everybody had that idea, the beaches filled up within ten minutes it seemed. We got the Twinkie to the beach, well John B did, but not without almost crashing since he was drinking. I tried to tell him to stop, but there was no telling that kid what to do.

I never really was taught how to surf, but that didn't stop me from going out there and just sitting on my surfboard. JJ has tried to help me, but I'm just not very coordinated, to say the least, but he still loves me. I watched everybody surf for a while before deciding to go back to the beach. As I was walking back to the Twinkie, I saw a Jeep start driving over my way. I knew it was Topper and his goons as soon as I saw the vehicle. I sat down on one of the folding chairs we had set up before going to the water, trying to ignore them. I watched as he parked next to us. "What the hell is he doing?" I heard someone ask, looking to see Kie walking over to me.

"I have no clue," I replied, "I just hope no drama happens. It's a nice day and I would hate to have it ruined by them.” I looked over to see Topper, Kelce, Rafe, and Ruthie. I've never liked Topper, but I don't think he's a bad person. I think he's so focused on Kooks versus Pogues, that nothing else matters. It's always been a competition between the two. "I don't understand how he goes from Sarah," I gesture over to Sarah, still surfing, "to Ruthie." I look over to where the Kooks are and see Ruthie glaring at us.

"Well, it's simple," Kie started, "he had the best with Sarah, and now he's just, well, desperate." We both chuckled. I looked over at Kie and saw her grabbing a beer from the cooler, she raised one up to me and I shook my head. I know that there should be at least one of us sober to drive home. "Kie, we're being real mean girls-esque right now," I pointed out. She shrugged her shoulder before responding to me, "Trust me, she's said way worse about us." Kie came over and sat next to me. We sat there for a while before we heard someone walking over to us.

"Hey, can you tell your asshole boyfriend to stop hogging all the waves?" I look up and see Ruthie talking to me, not even acknowledging Kie. I look out and see JJ standing up on his board, noticing Topper doing the same thing before jumping off into the water due to JJ getting in front of him. If it was any other situation I would mention something, but I also know JJ wouldn't do that to someone else. "Ruthie, I can't control what he does," I look up to her hovering over me, "he's out there and I'm over here." She rolls her eyes at me, "You're such a bitch. Can't you just do something for once in your life?" she asks me, it was more of a statement than anything.

"Ruthie," I stand up and walk in front of her, "if JJ comes over here, I'll say something, but until then, how about you go back to your friends and leave us alone." I turned around and started to walk over to the Twinkie, looking at Kie and rolling my eyes at the whole interaction. I didn't get too far before I felt hands on my back, pushing me forward. "What the fuck," I heard Kie shout before coming over to me. I looked back at Ruthie and rolled my eyes at her. “Can't believe you were ever a Kook," she said with attitude before walking away from us.

Kie started to go after her, wanting to protect her friends, but I pulled her back, "Kie, it's not worth it," I told her, "they'll just turn it into our fault if you do anything." She tries to argue with me, but I just sit back down in the chair, trying to forget the interaction. I'm fiddling with my nails when I hear someone ask, "Hey, you good?" I look up to find a shirtless JJ jogging over to me with his board under his arm. I look over and see Sarah and John B getting some drinks from the cooler. I didn't even notice they were back. I nodded my head at JJ and gave him a small smile. He came and squatted down to be level with me, he took my hands, "What happened?"

"Ruthie," I replied looking back down, "she came over and was talking shit. Normal Kook behavior." I looked up at him before I heard Kie, "She pushed her, but your girlfriend over there decided to take the high road. Wouldn't even let me go after her." I looked over at Kie and gave her a look, not wanting her to have said anything. I look back to JJ who is looking over at the group of Kooks. "JJ, it's fine," I tell him placing my hand on his cheek, trying to calm the storm that is forming. He quickly stood up and started walking over to them. I quickly got up and went after him to stop him, but not before Topper yelled over at us, "Oh, look who it is, the Pogue prince and princess."

I took JJ's hand in mine, trying to calm him down. I felt him squeeze my hand tighter, letting me know he was fine. "Topper, let's cut the bullshit," JJ said in an annoyed voice, "all we wanted to do was enjoy the waves and the nice weather but you always seem to be right there, ruining it; your girlfriend too." Topper chuckles at JJ and gets closer to him, "I'm not the one ruining it. You pushed me off my board, and Ruthie here was just defending me."

"I didn't push you off your board, you jumped off," he stated with a small smirk on his lips. "Plus, you had been getting in front of us every other time, I thought it was a competition." Topper scoffs at JJ. I had only seen JJ get in front of Topper that one time, but it didn't surprise me that they had been getting in front of JJ beforehand. "Yup," Topper dramatically throws his hand up in the air, "it's always the damn Kooks fault with you guys."

"Seriously Top," I interrupted getting closer to him, "You've always hated the Pogues, don't act all high and mighty. You've started shit with them so many times I can't even remember. Even when we were friends you were an asshole to them." He looks at me with wide eyes, "I can't imagine what Sarah ever saw in you." As I turn my back away from him, I'm quickly pushed to the ground. "What the fuck!" I hear JJ yell before helping me off the ground. I wipe the sand off my legs and turn to face them. Ruthie was smirking at me, proud of herself. Topper was staring at her with a hint of anger in his face.

"Don't ever fucking touch her again," JJ said to Ruthie, but it was directed towards the entire group. I started walking away, not wanting to even be on the beach anymore. I overheard JJ add, "Don't even come near her or I'll fucking end you."

I heard his feet shuffle in the sand to catch up with me. He took my hand and faced me towards him. "I'm so sorry princess," he said before he engulfed me into a hug. I wrapped my arms around him and he placed a kiss on the top of my head. "If they ever bother you again," he says and places his hands on either side of my face, looking at me, "please tell me." I shook my head at him before he put his arms around me and pulled me into another hug. I've never felt more safe than when I'm in his arms.

We walk back to where the rest of the group is standing. They started asking questions about what happened and we told them. "How was I ever with him before you," Sarah asks looking over at John B. He shrugs his shoulders before we all chuckle at her, trying to in fact imagine what she saw in Topper. We packed up our things and left soon after, not wanting to be on the beach any longer.

We drove home and quickly unpacked our things before we went to the house. We were stopped at the door by Pope, with bloody hands. The atmosphere taking a drastic change from earlier.

I started this with a different ending in mind, but it didn't go in that direction so here we are... Not my favorite but it's what I got lol

[mirrorcatcreditcard]

Take I haven't seen in the fandom yet:

Luka doesn't want to be freed.

"Now, MirrorCatCreditcard," you may say, "that's nonsense. Any human would want freedom from that system."

If you're thinking I'm gonna convince you that Luka doesn't know he wants freedom yet, you're wrong. I'm here to talk about indoctrination/conditioning, grooming/emotional manipulation, my own experience with those topics, and how all of the above connects with Luka as a character. If a deep dive like this is too much for you, please tap out for your own sake.

Luka's life was planned before he even existed. There has never ever been an alternative option. There is no life for Luka as anything but what Herperu chose. Everything in his life has been planned to have him be the perfect pet human idol. That is what he must be.

Fandom, I don't think most of you actually understand this and have dissected what this means (shout-out to the Luka stans who are getting there/have guessed similar things). These words we know have alternatives and are not set in stone are Luka's "gravity makes rain fall to the earth" and "water makes things wet." They are facts so deeply ingrained within him that even if shown the contrary he remarks that the person showing them is just disillusioned.

Take his commentary on Mizi and Hyun-A in the art book. He looks down on Mizi for not being able to control any of her emotions. How does he talk about Hyun-A? He has her at 70% affection yet shows a patronizing attitude—she's the one in denial at reality.

Now, how did we get here? How is a human so "delusional" and set in the control?

He's been conditioned.

Some of you don't know what I mean by this from experience and/or research, and count yourself fortunate that you don't. I pray you never experience such things firsthand. Don't worry about ignorance. Familiar or not, I will explain.

When you are surrounded by only one truth and reality, that is the way you interpret life. If a parent tells a child "the moon goes to sleep during the day," until the child learns otherwise, that's what they believe. Now take that child-like belief and add some toxic environments to the mix. With time, any other kid would learn that the earth rotates from their peers or adults around them. But if the creatures around them all say and believe the same thing "the moon goes to sleep during the day," then that is what the child continues to believe. Years of that same thing being the only truth make that false knowledge into a fact in the person's head, and everything that supports that fact is taken as truth or on the right path to truth.

"This is kinda silly though," you guys are no doubt murmuring, "All of this is a hypothetical. Give us something that makes sense or that someone could actually see happen in our society."

I'll give you my own experience then. My parents taught me that God is real. My parents taught me that I will be damned I do not follow the commandments of the scriptures. I didn't need to worry though. As long as I was obedient to the God who loved me and wanted what was best, I would be saved despite being born an awful sinful human. I was homeschooled, only interacted with people of similar beliefs, and taught that people too different from me in ideology or with radical beliefs against my own were trying to harm me and my family. I believed the people who raised me because why would people who love me lie to me? My task was simple. I needed to obey God and love everyone, especially them. Love meant giving up my entire being and living only as servant and sacrifice. After all, being selfless to the utmost was the greatest form of love.

Let's go back to Luka. His guardian, Herperu, when questioned about any surprises while training Luka, stated not only that he was the one who endured the "tough moments" but also that "(Luka) owes his success to me, and naturally, he should be grateful." This sentiment is echoed by Luka in his interview (shown on Patreon). My god, it's giving parents with disabled kids who brag on social media about how much trouble their kid is and how much they do for them. Sickening. This shows exactly what environment Luka has lived in though.

When you are manipulated into having something as your reality, everything else is fiction and delusion.

Let's review what exactly is Luka's reality.

Heperu is the one suffering if Luka has any difficulties being obedient.

Gratitude is what Herperu is owed because he goes through so much trouble to make Luka a star.

Love/care is shown by owning another's autonomy.

Emotions and bodily reactions exist, sure, but someone should be able to control them; and if they can't, someone should control those reactions for them.

Segyein are superior and the good ones for dealing with humans. Humans must be disciplined and shaped to how an segyein wants it to act to be considered deserving of this goodness.

(Luka)'s perfection is defined by his guardian.

Luka's life is directly connected to being the perfect performer. His guardian praises his abilities with the statement that no other pet human will ever be as perfect as him yet leaves an underlying threat saying that it will be no good if a pet is not trained properly. This has probably been mentally (if not physically) beaten into Luka's mind: his greatness doesn't stop him from being able to be disposed of. The human instinct to want to live has been explained to him as Heperu's wish for him to live and that has been further distorted as a duty to live for the stage he has been placed on.

Luka believes fully that there is a debt in play here. In his interview, he mentions repaying love. He thinks the relationship between fan and idol is completely normal, encouraged, and healthy. Performance is the most important thing. Being where he is is a privilege.

There's a chain here:

Heperu indoctrinated Luka into believing what he says is all true.

The guardian manipulated him easily to do what he wanted with his body and mind.

The years have been spent constantly conditioning Luka to be the god who encapsulated fantasies for the audience.

He is continually being groomed to exist for the entertainment and enjoyment of segyein.

Circle back to my first point of this post. Luka does not want to be freed. He doesn't know what freedom actually is. He sees freedom as either foolish denials of reality (and doesn't consider that actual freedom) or as controlling the song and stage when he performs (something he learned from Hyuna). He cannot want something he cannot understand. He cannot want freedom in the sense the fandom keeps speaking about.

It's funny. From the moment Luka was revealed to be hated by the fandom, I wanted to know why. Instead of digging and finding horrific deeds, I instead found a character who portrayed my own traumas and experiences. I instantly attached and delved deeply into learning about this thirty year old singer. Why does he express himself in a certain way? Where do we first see mention of him? Who does he have emotions towards? How was he trained? What makes Luka himself? I have past essays/replies to other's theories if you're interested, but in this one I got personal and didn't sugarcoat the facts. If the fandom can't handle deep thought, we shouldn't be discussing this incredibly profound and depth-filled web series.

As always, thank you for your time, and I hope my thoughts allowed you to open your mind to new things. Mostly, I hope you enjoyed them 🫶

[creatingblackcharacters]

Hello! Thank you so much for all the effort and care you put into this account. I am a white high school english teacher and most of my students are Black; I cannot overstate how beneficial your lessons have been to my work. A lot of it has been in how I pick which texts we read. I’ve tried my best to carefully search for as many different Black authors as I can, especially modern ones, and it’s made me so happy to see my kids get excited about Black characters in stories! I FINALLY got a kid (who had refused to read all year) hooked on a book because he said the main character was just like him. You’ve also given me some really good advice on how to guide their critical thinking about race in a way that puts their own voices and experiences and feelings at the center. I’m learning so much from them as well, and when I make mistakes out of ignorance, your lessons have been invaluable for helping me maturely correct myself and make things right with kids. Besides, it’s plain easier to communicate when I’ve done the work at home to get more familiar with important parts of Black culture and experience. I definitely still have work to do for myself and with my white coworkers, but I just want you to know that what you’re doing is having a real positive impact on some young Black people in the world :)))

I think out of all the responses I get, my favorite is when I find out that the Black kids that people are around benefit from the newfound perspectives. Black children are treated so poorly in schools, like it honestly breaks my heart how we get sent in and expected to fail. It really can fuck up your perspective on the rest of your life when you have teachers that you're supposed to listen to... And they practically enforce that you don't matter. So I appreciate that you actually made that space a little more welcoming for our kids; that means the world to me. 😭😭😭😭

And really, just think about it- you got that job without ever having to think about these things before. For every teacher that's like you, there are hundreds that just... Aren't. That don't do the extra work. And they don't have to!

[mimikittysblog]

The Princess - Bonus Ending

Full story! ♡

Pairing: Mafia! Husbands! Poly! Ateez x Fem! Wife! Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst if you squint really hard.

Synopsis: You found the traitor.

Warnings: Death, Violence, very slight MxM, some descriptions of gore. ⚠️MNDI⚠️ If I missed anything then please let me know!

Word Count: 1.8k Words

A/N: Hehe surprise! An extra ending 🤭 I wanted to add this on in the actual fic, but I liked where it ended off too much. So I decided to make this into a bonus ending where you could read it if you want, or just ignore it if you don’t. Hope you enjoy this too!

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ��.

It has been a little over a week since your kidnapping. Things also have finally gone back to normal.

Except…

“Joooooooonggiiiieee!!!!!”

The yell for the captain of ATZ can be heard throughout the entire mansion, along with the sound of stomping pretty pink high heels.

“Oh my.”

“Well aren’t you in trouble”

Soon the door to Hongjoongs office was bursted open revealing the little fireball of which they call ‘Their Princess.’

“Oh princess.. whats the matter??”

That question only made your frown grow and eyebrows furrow even more.

“You promised we’d finally go shopping today! You said you wanted to dress me up! I’ve been waiting in the living room for over an hour!”

“Oooohh good luck with that!”

“See ya later our troubled husband! Hope she goes easy on you!”

The boys in the room quickly scatter, but of course not before giving you a sweet kiss and a compliment to your pretty outfit.

“Oh darling.. I’m so sorry!! I got caught up with work! Things have gotten so hectic princess.. there are these idiots that are always giving us trouble! And just….” As he kept going trying to give you reasons he notices your expression hasn’t changed at all, which makes him sigh.

Ever since your kidnapping, your husbands have become too anxious. So now they can’t even put their trust into any new body guards. Especially since the one that has ratted out your existence is still unknown.

So they took it upon themselves to always be your chaperone when you go out. As much of a hassle you thought it would be, it honestly just gives them an excuse to be around you even more. So in the end you just let them do it.

“I’m sorry our princess.. I mean it I’m very sorry…” he says as he gets up and makes his way over to you, pulling you close.

“Do you still want to go now..?”

“Can you go?”

“I have to make it up to you, don’t I?”

“And those idiots??”

“Hmmm well.. why don’t you tell me what I should do to them sweetheart?”

“Hmmmph. Well if they’re giving you guys so much trouble and they’re idiots, I don’t see why you can’t just kill them off and take what you need. We have the resources and manpower, plus you’ve done it before! You did it literally a week ago. You’re ATZ for goodness sake. No one is above you!” You say like it was nothing.

And you were right.

Hongjoong chuckles as he sits down and brings you into his lap.

“While you are correct my love, unfortunately what we need from them, requires them to still be alive. For now.” He explains.

“Ughh fineee…” You groan.

As you opened your mouth to speak again. That’s when a loud shrill screech disturbed the peacefulness of the moment.

“What now?!” Hongjoong barked.

“Oh! That must be my doing!” You said with what can only be described as a maniacal glint in your eyes.

“Oh?”

“Come Joongie! I’ll show you! Then we’ll go shopping!”

“Whatever you desire Princess.” He says with a kiss to your new diamond ring.

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

“LET GO OF ME!! LET GO!! I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING WRONG?! UNHAND ME AT ONCE!!”

“Then why did you run?”

“H-huh..?”

Here in the middle of your grand foyer, was a girl being held down by two men on her knees. Behind her, every single one of your maids stood their sights straight down.

While in front of her is where you stood. Tall and proud. Wearing a stoic expression however the glint from earlier still in your eyes.

“Princess?? What do we have here?” Seonghwa asks.

Your husbands have all now gathered around you on top of the staircase. Simply enjoying the show.

You spin on your heels to look up at them with a wide cheshire grin. “You’ll see my loves!”

“Sirs..! Sirs please!! Please help me! She’s mistaken!”

SMACK

“Don’t you dare speak to my husbands.” You growl. “Ugh look at what you’ve done! You’ve gotten blood on my new ring!” Your finger now slightly dripping blood from where the diamond cut her cheek.

“Oh no.. No worries sweetheart, we’ll make you a new one.” San tells you.

“Oooh! Alright Sannie Thank you!”

“Please.. why are you doing this?? What did I do wrong?”

Your laugh then rings out throughout the foyer. Echoing beautifully off the walls.

“Stop your pathetic little act.” You say as you crouch down to her eye level.

“I know you were the one that snitched about me.”

At this revelation your husbands became even more interested than before. They all perked up and blood boiling again now that they finally have the culprit.

“What?! Who even are you??!”

They’re so angry they want to just run down and tear her limb from limb. However they know you have something plan. So they just let you have your fun.

You smirk widens at Wooyoungs question. As you know how reality shattering it is to her.

“W-what..? You don’t.. recognize me?? Sir Wooyoung! I’ve worked here for years!! ..None.. of you recognize me?” She asks pitifully.

As she looks up at all of them, she sees nothing but fury and confusion. Not a single one of them having any knowledge on who she is.

SMACK

“I told you. Do not. EVER. Speak. To MY. Husbands.”

You then got up and turn back to your loves above you.

“My darlings. This here. Used to be one of our maids. And she thought that by getting rid of me. She could have all of you.”

“What?!”

“How absurd!”

“How stupid is what that is!”

“No! Its not true! It’s not! It wasn’t me!!! I-I would never betray any of you!” She continues to plea.

“Then why. Did. You. Run?”

“I-I didn’t..”

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice your absence ever since I was returned home? Hah! It’s what gave you away! And you actually thought they would? and what?! go searching for you?!” You laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

“The day after I returned home from my kidnapping. I realized we were short staffed. It didn’t take me long to realize it was you. When I asked, Kim said you resigned due to health. I didn’t believe it for a second. So I had them search your room. And look what I found!”

At your signal, The head maid Kim stepped forward and gave you a pile of letters.

Love letters.

“Hmm. I’m sure you can guess what these are. You wrote them. Each and every one of them. You didn’t hide them very well. Not sure why you didn’t even just burn or take them with you.” You scoff.

“They’re quite romantic actually… If. They weren’t addressed to my beloveds.”

Her blood has gone cold. She doesn’t know what to do. She can only kneel there looking up at you as she fears her fate.

Unfortunately her fate was sealed the second she began writing these letters.

“I-it’s not.. no… I-I never even gave it to them! Please!! It’s not what it looks like.”

“You thought once you got rid of me. You could swoop in and take my place. However once I came back alive, you decided to run. Thinking I would never suspect you. You then also believed that any of my husbands would realize you stopped being around and come looking for you! Because somehow you have convinced yourself that they’re in love with you! They don’t even know you!!”

“THEY LOVE ME!!!”

SMACK

“Oh. That was the hardest one yet.” Mingi whispers to Yunho. Who nods in agreement.

While on the other side of the staircase Yeosang whispers to Jongho about how this maid is insane to ever think that.

“100%.”

“They don’t. Why would they?” You start then throwing her letters in her face.

“Why would distinguished men like them ever waste space in their brains for a lowly pathetic slut like you? Let alone space in their hearts.”

“…I just..”

“Enough talking. You’ve said far more than you deserve. And frankly I’m bored already.”

You then extend your hand out. One of the henchmen that was holding her down then hands you a syringe.

The girl then panics at the sight of an unknown syringe.

“Wait no please! Whats in that?! What are you gonna do to me?!”

“You could’ve had anything you wanted in this mansion. Anything. And I promise you. I would’ve happily given them to you. My clothes. My shoes. My jewels. My gold. Anything. I’m just that generous.”

You open the syringe cap.

“However the thing you decided to covet? Were the only things that were forbidden. My. Prized possessions. My husbands. And for that. You must suffer the consequence.”

Before she can even let out another sound of protest you injected her straight in the neck.

You and the men holding her down then stepped back as her screams quickly filled the foyer. Her skin and flesh melting straight off of her bones.

“So thats what she ordered acid for.” Hongjoong then mumbles.

“You knew she ordered acid?” Wooyoung asks

“She used my card.” Hongjoong shrugs.

It was a ghastly sight but none of them were even slightly bothered.

Well.

Of course the other maids were.

Once her screams come to a halt. And she was nothing but a pile of goop on the once spotless marbled floor.

You laughed.

Your husbands then descended the stairs.

Once your laughing fit was over you addressed the other maids who were still standing there. Mortified of what has become of their once friend.

“Now all of you. Remember my words. You are free to ask anything you want from me. I have more than enough for multiple lifetimes so I’ll be happy to give it to you. However. If you ever even for a nanosecond think. You could replace me or take any of my husbands away from me. Well. Ask her how that turned out for her.” Fire resonating deep in your voice.

“Thats all. Now all of you clean this up please!” You then say with a bright smile as if the past 20 minutes or so didn’t just happen.

“Come now darling. I believe I owe you a shopping trip.” Hongjoong then says as he puts his hand on your lower back.

“Ah yes!! Lets go! May all my beloveds come with?? Then we can have dinner?”

“Why not?” Yunho says with a bright smile.

Your husband then all lead you out to the car.

“You know no one could ever take us from you. Right Princess?” San says softly to you.

“Of course! I would never let them.”

“Of course you wouldn’t. We wouldn’t either.” Yeosang says.

“They literally can’t our love. You have us all wrapped around your pretty delicate fingers.” Wooyoung adds as he kisses your ring finger.

“I know.”

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

© mimikittysblog 2024

Tagging: @faeprincess777 @starygw3n @bee-gremlin @pinkpearlstar @sweetinsaniiity @puppyminnnie @borahae-reads @spenceatiny18 @justconniez @rosydipity @vtyb23 @beccaskz @boredlol914 @ntlmundy @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone @ateezswonderland @peachyy-jooniee @robertsbbygirl @hanniehq @smally97 @pixie0627 @haven-cove @jaerisdiction @btskzfav @bbyunicornbby @tinybada @cecilleasworld @mudent @mortal-advocate @jjcanwrite

Those who are italicized I could not tag for some reason :(

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hello, I hope that I'm not too late for a small request for the NRC family interaction. But still do want to ask for a req for Azul Ashengrotto and Jamil Vipver to interact with Najma Viper. I could already imagine how chaotic it would be already.

Oml, Jamil’s worst nightmare would be if Najma developed a crush on Azul 😭 He would so go protective big brother mode… I didn’t decide to do that for this interaction though, it’s just a funny thought I had.

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

“Oya, is that my dear friend Jamil-san over there?”

That voice. That ever-so grating voice, trilling out his name so sweetly. Immediately, Jamil wished to retreat into his hoodie like a turtle to a shell and die there.

Alas, he could do no such thing—not when he was trapped among several milling bodies, his younger sister in tow. Najma had heard and glanced over her shoulder. She locked eyes with the approaching octopus and arched an eyebrow as she tugged on her brother’s sleeve.

“Hmm? Hey, Jamil. There’s a guy in glasses headed this way and waving. It sounds like he wants your attention,” she pointed out.

“I know,” he hissed back, already starting to powerwalk away from Azul. And that’s just what I’m afraid of.

“Aren’t you going to at least say hi? It’d be rude to straight up ignore him.”

Jamil internally cursed. All that nagging from their parents about etiquette and how to show hospitality had been well and truly drilled into him as well as into her. Now it came back to bite him like a loose snake where it smarted the most.

“Please. He isn’t worth my breath—or the trouble.”

“Jamil-san! Please wait.”

To his dismay, Najma stopped dead in her tracks. “I really think you should greet him before you go.”

He gaped at her. “You’re joking.”

“Sevens, why are you being so weird about this?” She rolled her eyes. Then, cupping her hands around her mouth, she called out to Azul. Jamil’s stomach sank. “H~eeeeey! Jamil onii-chan’s friend! It’s nice to meet you. I’m his adorable little sister, Najma.”

He frowned. “Since when am I Jamil onii-chan? And since when are you my adorable little sister?”

“Since now,” she muttered back.

“Ahhh, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” Azul crooned. He took Najma’s hand and shook it. “Azul Ashengrotto, at your service. I’m a classmate of your brother’s, as well as dorm leader of Octavinelle and manager of the student-run on-campus eatery, Mostro Lounge.”

“Oh, wow!! That sounds so cool.”

“He’s humble bragging,” Jamil said flatly, folding his arms. “… What do you want, Azul?”

“Is that any way to greet your beloved bosom buddy?” He sighed, shrugging his hands up. “I only wanted to check in with you and make sure that you were enjoying Family Day.”

“Don’t say that. It’s disgusting—and patently false.”

Jamil’s eyes sharpened into pointed daggers. He’s surely sniffing around for weak points. If he cannot glean them from me, then he intends to pry those secrets from Najma. I won’t allow that to come to pass.

He gripped his little sister’s hand tightly and tugged on it. “I believe this concludes the obligatory pleasantries. Come along, Najma. We must get going to our next meeting.”

“Boo, you’re no fun,” she pouted, yanking back. “You’d seriously rather go to a boring old meeting than chat with a friend?”

“Don’t be difficult. You’re not visiting to make social calls, you’re here on business.”

“But you’re not attempting to socialize at all. Geez, you’re not putting anything you learned at home to practice, are you?”

“I am plenty!! I’m just selective about where and when to apply those teachings—as should you.”

“What a deep bond you have with your sister, Jamil-san. You fuss over her like a mother hen,” Azul chuckled, pushing his glasses up. “Why, as an only child, it warms my heart to see this kind of camaraderie. I shall have to commit this to memory.”

A heart? he scoffed. A cold, slimy one, perhaps.

Jamil shot Azul a frigid glare. “Do NOT.”

“Oh? But what is so wrong with appreciating a tender moment of bickering between siblings? It’s something I could never hope to experience myself.”

“Yeah, yeah, Jamil! You’re so totally being mean to your classmate for no good reason. Don’t you feel any shame?”

“Are you taking his side in this?!” he demanded of his sister.

“So what if I am?”

“My, my, Najma-san!” Azul suddenly wedged himself between the Vipers like an octopus slipping into the crack of a rock. His smile was annoyingly broad and simpering. “It seems that you and I are kindred spirits.”

“Yup! Looks like we are,” Najma agreed, an equally unsettling smile creeping onto her face.

Jamil paled. I don’t like where this is going…

“Then it is clear what we must do.”

“Yeah, it’s so obvious.”

They both turned to Jamil. The dread in his stomach spiked, hitting his peak, then sailed past it. He could feel his blood pressure shooting up too.

“We should bully him!”

[ghostgirl-22]

artrick phone sex

I gotchu, my love <3

CW: 18+ !NSFW! First time dynamics, angst, Art has avoidance issues like me.

Apologies this may be too long and full of my own personal angst I fear.

—-

“Art?” It’s Patrick.

Art feels his stomach sinking and now he wishes he’d avoided his call, again. He rolls over on his bed and looks at the sparsely decorated wall of his dorm room. It’s his first time talking to Patrick since… since…

He shivers and tries to put it out of his mind.

“Hey,” Art says and clears his throat. “What’s up?”

Patrick chuckles.

Art shivers again. Did his voice always sound that way? Or is Art just crazy still? He’s been really crazy lately. It’s been two weeks and he’s still…

“Really? What’s up?” Patrick mimics. “That’s all you have to say?”

Art shrugs for the benefit of no one but himself. “What—um— what’s wrong with that?”

“Oh I don’t know…” Patrick hums and then he sighs. “Okay fuck it. I’ll go with it. Are you okay?”

Art is still anxious, his stomach still uneasy. It’s just Patrick. His oldest and closest and best friend and yet he can’t relax. He can’t settle down and they're just talking on the phone. He can’t imagine seeing him in person when he inevitably shows up to Stanford again to watch Tashi play. Everything is different now.

“I’m fine, Patrick.” He lies.

“But you don’t want to talk to me?” Patrick sounds weird. Worried? A little. Disappointed? Probably. Sad? Definitely.

Art sighs, he doesn’t want Patrick to be sad. “No I— I’ve just been busy. We had finals last week. And um…. practice has been crazy. I’m um… I started seeing this girl and—” he hears Patrick huff a laugh but barrels through, ignoring it. “Sorry I missed your calls.”

“And texts,” Patrick adds.

“I’m sorry,” Art says again.

They’re quiet for a while. Art turns back to look at the tv. He was watching Sports Center, they were talking about gymnastics. Apparently there had just been some kind of qualifier competition.

“Who’s this new girl your seeing?” Patrick asks. This time Art can’t tell what his tone is.

“Uh well she’s nice, pretty. She’s actually not on the team. She’s an English major.”

“Sounds hot,” Patrick says, flatly.

“Yeah, she’s um— she’s nice,” Art says. “Are you—are you high?”

“A little. I won’t lie. Me and the buddy I was telling you about we smoked a couple and then went and got tacos and Margaritas. So fucking good. Who knew Dallas was a food town?”

Art laughs. He begins to relax, this feels more like best friend stuff. Maybe he was overreacting. Avoiding him for two weeks. But of course that wasn’t the only reason Art was avoiding him. “What happened to your match?”

“Uh well— I lost again. This shit is so fucking rigged.” Patrick complains.

“Dude that fucking sucks,” Art says. He sits up on his bed and looks around for his own weed stash.

“Yeah, it’s fine though. I’m going against this guy tomorrow, stats are all over the place but I think I can take him.”

“Whats his name?”

“Moussa or Mousso… I can’t remember but he’s French. Kinda hot, actually.”

Art feels his stomach flip flop again. “Uh… so what about Tashi?”

“She’s good, she actually answers my calls. I mean not tonight but she told me her cousin would be in town so…”

”Do you want me to beg for forgiveness or something?” Art says, smirking.

Patrick takes a breath and doesn’t say anything while Art is rummaging through the bottom drawer of his night stand. He finds the baggy he was looking for and sits up on the bed, legs crossed as he opens it.

“I’m sorry but I was honestly busy.” Art adds when Patrick still hasn’t said anything.

“Are we ever gonna talk about it?” Patrick asks.

Art stops moving. His stomach begins doing all kinds of things again.

“Look I don’t want to… I don’t want it to be weird,” Patrick continues. “I can do whatever you need. If you want me to pretend I didn’t fuck you… okay fine. But you have to talk to me because I’m going fucking crazy.”

Art stares at the television but he’s not seeing anything. He gives up on the weed and tosses it on the nightstand. “Yeah um… okay.”

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing,” Art mutters. “I’m— we can talk.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“No,” Art says. “I—“ he lays back down on his side and looks at the wall, pulling his knees up. He wishes with everything in him that they hadn’t done it in here. In his fucking bed.

He’s got it on a loop playing in his head all the time. Patrick crawling between his legs. The way he looked, hair still damp from the shower, freckles all over, pupils too big, blue eyes all sparkly. How he smelled, like vanilla soap and cigarettes. What he sounded like, voice so much deeper and softer than normal, saying stupid things like “You’re so fucking pretty”, “Gonna make you scream my name,” and then moaning when he got it in.

And how it felt.

God.

How it felt.

That’s the part that stays with him. How much it hurt. And then how much it didn’t hurt at all. By the end Patrick was touching something inside him and he was seeing stars. In between consciousness and some other plane of existence is how good it felt. That was the silly part. Feeling like he wanted it again and again and again.

He let Patrick do it again in the morning. Patrick’s arms wrapped around his waist fucking him on his side while he stared at this wall his whole body blooming with pleasure. And then just sitting with it for the rest of the day. The ache. The stretch. The feeling like everyone could tell. Patrick left that afternoon for the airport, sent Art a text. Well that was fun. Which he ignored. Called him that evening. Also ignored.

Art had been trying to avoid thinking about it ever since (it was impossible). He’s thrown himself into school, tennis, he’s even tried to talk to a new girl. It didn’t go anywhere. In his worst moments he’s even tried to flirt with Tashi. But then he remembers she’s fucking Patrick and his mind swings right back around to the way Patrick fucked him. And that makes him more crazy because now he doesn’t know what the fuck he actually wants.

And every fucking night, late at night he’s lying in bed staring at the wall touching himself over and over… thinking about it.

He doesn’t know how to say any of this to Patrick.

“Did you die?” Patrick asks, dryly. Even now since they’ve been on the phone, just hearing Patricks stupid voice is making Art’s stomach hurt, and his cock fill up.

“No… I’m just confused okay,” Art says.

“About what?”

“I don’t know.”

”Did you hate it?” Patrick asks.

“Not really,” Art murmurs.

“You’re so fucking full of shit,” Patrick groans.

Art sighs and realizes he just mindlessly put his palm on his cock because of how gravelly Patrick’s voice sounds. And fine. Patrick can make him crazy all the way in whatever fucking city hes in however many fucking miles he is away from Palo Alto.

“I’m sorry if I don’t know how to feel. I’ve never… I’d never done any of that before.” Art says quietly.

“And yet you practically begged for it in the morning.” Patrick says softly.

Art swallows thickly.

“I can’t get it out of my head.” Patrick continues. “The way you were rubbing against my dick before you even woke up properly. Fuck. I can’t get you out of my head.”

Art’s rubbing himself now. “I can’t either,” he sighs, he’s starting to lose it again. He feels silly. Too silly to care if Patrick can tell.

“Yeah?” Patrick sounds eager, breathy.

“It was… I still… I still feel it. Is that crazy?” Art says quietly.

Patrick takes a deep breath. “Fuck. You drive me so fucking insane. Are you fucking touching yourself?”

“’m sorry. I just…” Art says, closing his eyes. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Art knows he’s never gonna recover from this but right now it doesn’t matter. He would stop if he could but he can’t.

”You still feel me?”

“Mmhm.”

“Feel me stretching you? you’re so fucking tight I don’t even know if it’s all gonna fit,” Patrick says, his voice sounds like it did. When Arts eyes are closed it’s almost like he can feel Patrick’s breath on his skin.

“Ah—“ Art gasps, grabbing himself properly. “I like the stretch.”

“You love it.” Patrick says. “You don’t even want to wait. Don’t want me to take my time, you’re just so eager you’re pushing that pretty ass back on me.”

“Yeah,” Art gasps, he rolls onto his back and puts the phone on speaker, letting one leg fall open as he jerks himself. “It feels so good—when you fuck me. Its too much. Im too full please… please I don’t think I can take anymore.”

“Oh you fucking liar,” Patrick moans. “You can take it baby. I know you can. You’re a little cock slut already and its only your first time. Fuck. You’re so tight.”

”So tight,” Art says mindlessly as he tries to ease two fingers along his ass, the way Patrick had done before he entered. “I wanna… I want you to… I—I miss you.”

”I miss you too,” Patrick says. “If I was there I’d have you on all fours taking my dick all night.”

“Ah—mmh— Patrick I’m gonna— you’re gonna make me—“ Art cries. The fingers are enough… even dry.

“Come on, yeah… fucking come on my big fat dick sweetheart… come on.. nngh…” Patrick moans.

It’s enough. Hot strings of pearly white are suddenly spurting out of him and spilling everywhere, on his fingers and clothes. On the bedspread. He’s breathless, as his whole body goes lax.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck… I need to be in you again, gahhh..” Art can hear Patrick’s bed squeaking wherever he is and then he’s groaning loudly, and gasping through his own orgasm. “Oh god, oh shit… that was…”

“Yeah,” Art says breathlessly, looking up at the ceiling.

”Mm don’t fucking ignore me again,” Patrick says.

As relaxed as Art feels right now. Distantly, the pit in his stomach is returning. “Patrick… are we… I mean… are we still gonna be… friends?”

“Yeah of course,” Patrick says, easy. He yawns. “Always.”

Art feels tied up in knots but he can tell Patrick’s relaxed, sated, relieved even. If anything he’s going to be asleep in five minutes. No point getting any deeper now.

“You wanna fall asleep on the phone or—?” Patrick asks, yawning again.

“No it’s… it’s fine.” Art says. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Mmkay. Sweet dreams.”

Art bites his tongue to keep himself from saying something fucking stupid that he can’t take back. The line goes dead. Art stares at the ceiling for a minute, the three words he can’t say platonically to his best friend who he’s now fucking, are flitting about in his head. And Patrick wonders why he’s confused. He grabs his second pillow and pulls it over his face. He’s so fucked.

[gojoswhitebabydolllashes]

Girl, your stories are so GOOD! I love reading your fics. I just saw you may be taking fics for Jayce or Viktor. Is there any way I could request a Jayce x Viktor x Reader fic where the reader is very naturing, cuddly, and gentle with both of them, but maybe she hides all her stress and struggles cause she deems theirs more important? Like, she always knows when they want coffee, how they each take it, covers them up when the lab is cold or they pass out at the desk, rubs their shoulders when she sees them shrug too much, just very attentive. Yet, she’s not a scientist and thinks that being stressed over literature projects and teaching is ridiculous cause it’s not as difficult or as important (in her mind) as hextech. So she just ignores her needs until these two notice.

I’m so sorry if that is too much! I hope you enjoy the third act when it comes out. Thank you so much for reading this! 🩶

OH ABSOLUTELY I CAN DO THIS. 😭😭 THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING AND LIKING MY STORIES IT MEANS SO MUCH.

--fem reader. Fluff. Small sad. Angst if you squint. Cute throuple time.

--

The laboratory is cold, and the rain that batters piltover decorates the window like glass tears. Your eyes droop tiredly as you watched viktor twist the cogs in the next hextech project and listen to the sound of slow puffs of steam every few minutes that came from brass pipes on the walls.

Jayce is unmoving as he sits at his own desk, sorting through two stacks of papers. You hate it, hate watching them so vulnerable and so tired. Both are so hard-working and loyal to their studies.

"Allow me to help you both," you spoke as you stood up.

Reaching for two soft blue blankets stored in the corner, you walked firstly to jayce and draped the blanket across his shoulders and gave his cheek a soft kiss.

"I can't have my boys going cold now, can I?"

You spoke as you walked to viktor to drape a blanket across his much more lean shoulders, kissing his cheek, too. Viktor looked up at you and smiled tiredly.

"Thank you, my love." it never failed to make your heart flutter hearing viktor call you that, especially when his accent made it so smooth and endearing.

"Are you staying with us tonight?" Jayce spun in his chair, leaning an arm on his knee.

"I um" you cleared your throat.

The truth was, you had things to do. Your own assignments and activities to tend to. But viktor and jayce's eyes were gleaming deep brown in the dim laboratory light and so often you found yourself missing them when they would make you go to bed without them because they were afraid you would pass out after spending so long with them doing work.

"I have no where to be"

Paperwork

Documents

Assignments

Blueprints

Papers

Papers papers pap-

"No," you shook your head. "I have nowhere to be"

You smiled as you walked over to stand by the window, viktor and jayce came to stand on either side of you. The rain still pounded the glass, crystal city and enforcers were hounded the soaking streets each night, like a herd of elephants stampeding with metal boots.

"You need not worry about what's happening down there." Jayce put his hand on your shoulder.

Viktor turned his head to you. "It is not our worry, my love" he spoke ever so softly.

You pressed your lips together into a thin line, as you thought over so much.

"You both must be hungry," you stated.

You stepped away from them both before you walked over to the door. You would make them cups of hot tea and nice warm soup. bread and butter.

"Stop right there, doll" Jayce spoke loudly.

You froze and turned around to see jayce holding up your textbook. You gasped and realised they had indeed caught you.

"When were you going to tell us you had assignments to do?" Jayce asked.

Viktor turned around to face you, his head tilted. You looked at the ground defeated before them, and began to cry.

"I'm so sorry I didn't tell you both. I was so entranced with helping you with your dreams that I forgot about my own, " you frowned and sighed.

The two of them walked over to you and hugged you tightly. If they had known you were in such troubles, they would have chained you to the table and glued a pencil in your hand.

"I love you both so much, and I'm so sorry that kept it from you." .You looked at them with gentle and sorrowful eyes.

"You need not be sorry. But It's time to start taking care of yourself, my love. " viktor held you close to him

You nodded, making them both smile admiringly.

"We love you, pretty girl"

You gave them both soft kisses to their lips and smiled. "You know I'm still going to take care of you both"

They were your boys. And even if you were working every day and night on your own papers, you would find ways to still make sure they had their breakfast lunch and dinner and were always hydrated and healthy. You loved them both dearly and they too loved you too.

"If I find out you aren't focusing on yourself, I'll take back my promise to buy cupcakes" Viktor spoke.

Not only did you gasp. But beside you, the man of progress did too.

[shaisuki]

Hello!

I'm in looooveeee with ur work <3

So I wanted to ask if you could do a fic about yandere toji who kidnapped chubby darling... but still degrades her....and after chubby darling has had enough, she lashes out on him. He punishes her (　＾ω＾)

and chubby darling escapes the first chance she gets to do so ( i would love a scene where darling tries to fight toji off!! )

I love your works ♡♡♡

Thanks for reading this !

Byee (^-^)/

(*ゝω･*)

there isn't a way to fight someone like toji.

he was built for the violence and anything that entails with it. killing someone is easy as ripping a paper and toji with his reputation as an assassin didn't sit with you well. knowing you were in his grasp with no way out.

since the day where he introduced you to your new home, it was hell. you were the outlet for his frustrations while you played the dutiful role of a housewife. a warm meal served to him when he comes home while he earns the cold cash. a clean home that devoid of any dirt and unwashed laundry that would had last for days without you and a pussy for him to warm his cock whenever he wants it and a body to use as an outlet for his frustrations.

the first time you showed resistance to him, you ended up with a sore ass that if he took it even further you'll end up with blistered skin from how harsh the spanking was and from how rough he was when he took you.

it was a warning to never do it again and if you did it again, you were dead meat long time ago. you didn't resist after that and you played along to his whims that it almost drove you crazy. you're not going to get chummy from a assassin who took you away from home. never.

doesn't mean that you never counted the days, crossing out the dates in the calendar will you ever be free to him.

sweat trickled down your forehead when you hear the front door open. his steps heavy and dull thud can be heard. you never pry what his bag contains. it was not your business and you don't want to be involved in whatever shady dealings he had.

you listened for a moment. toji can be unpredictable at times. sometimes when he lost in his gambling, he'll come home with that irritating look on his face and he calls for you. telling you to put him in a good mood and you never say anything and you take it with your lips sealed and movements that was almost robotic. it's only temporary is what you console yourself.

a shiver went down your spine when you felt toji's presence behind you. it feels like he wasn't almost there that's what got you here in the first place. you didn't see him coming. “what're you doin' princess.” you ignored him. biting the inside of your cheek to avoid any remarks that you will regret.

the brute of a man ignored your silence and his eyes travels to the sundress you wore. fitting like a glove to your plush body. “looking pretty, dressing up for someone?” he sneers. cupping your sex behind you, his breath fanning your round cheek. you try not to wince.

“as if you'll let me go outside to meet someone.” you bite your tongue after that but you realize it's too late. well, might as continue it. say the things you'll get punished for.

a almost wheeze escapes through your lips. your hands scratching his arm but despite that, he remains unfazed. trying to pry his hands off you that is wrapping around your throat. it was enough to choke you without much cutting your air supply.

toji's voice were gravelly as he spoke. shaking his head in a manner that he can't believe what he was seeing and hearing. “you still have the fire in you and i thought you lost it after shaping you to be my own personal bitch.”

“fuck you.” a choked gasp coming from you when he tightens his grip around your throat. “i'll never submit to someone like you.” wincing as you see the veins in his arms bulge and you were really pissing him off.

toji licks his lips. dragging to where his scar is. “oh, really?” he snarls. his eyes darkening like he wants to kill. his bloodlust was all over and you can feel it. “let me see if i won't make you submit by doing thi–”

shards of glass came clattering on the cold floor. your hands came scrambling to whatever stuff it can get on and the vase was the first thing you had grabbed and without hesitation you slammed it to the side of his forehead. blood trickles where he was struck and it wasn't for toji to keel over. he only looks at you, annoyed like it wasn't a damage to be hit with a vase. this man took bullets and stab wounds and won't be alone defeated by being slammed with a vase.

angered by your action, with a strength that was easy for him, he slammed you to the cold marbled table of the kitchen that it almost cracked at the impact. you let out a cough. trying to get much air as you can. your air being cut off by being almost strangled let your mind forced to survived of possible scenarios to help you escape the danger you were in and without thinking, you kicked him hard as you can between his legs.

that loosens his grasp into you and giving him no more to recover, your eyes darts to the toaster resisting. it's funny how you look at it, and you doubt it can damage him further but it was better than nothing. you raised your arms holding the toaster and gathering all the anger you have for him and then slamming it behind his back. you hear him curse and without turning back, you ran.

grabbing a small bag that you prepared when push comes to shove and this was the time. after hastily putting your shoes on. you ran like the wind after slamming the door behind you.

without turning back and going for the nearest bus stop and with that, tears streamed down your face. not bothering the odd looks bystanders were giving you. cause for the first time you were free. free from that hell hole and yo his grasp. you ain't going back here and going to the farthest you only know.

this must be the taste of freedom and for the first time, you can breathe.

[silverskyeline]

ੈ♡˳ 'birthday cake' - logan howlett x wade wilson

summary: logan buys wade a cake for his birthday and tries to convince himself it doesn't mean anything. (900 words) tags: kinda fluffy, kinda angsty, set a year after the movie, references to losing the x-men, feelings realisation, animal metaphors for logan, cussing, logan x wade. a/n: happy birthday deadpool!

birthdays. running a calloused hand across his stubbled jaw, logan eyes the cakes in the bakery aisle with disgust. when's the last time he celebrated a birthday? not since. . .

well.

not since.

he's not sure why he's here. except he is. yet he won't admit it. can't admit he gives a damn about that stupid red leather-wearing freak. isn't that what he's doing right now, though? a birthday cake, an admission of sorts?

logan grumbles, a deep rumble in the back of his throat. why was this so hard? why couldn't he just pick up a cake and go? or better yet, forget about this whole damn thing and go home?

home.

a word that still feels so foreign in his mind, a long-lost concept that's only recently begun to take root again despite his best efforts to weed it out. that's the thing with wade, he's persistent. fuck, he's extremely fucking persistent to a highly annoying degree. but it's funny how the things we want to deny the most are the things that turn out to be the best for us in the end.

there's a unicorn cake that catches his eye. an imperceptible smile tugs at the corner of logan's lips, a reluctant grin quirking up without permission. he can't help it. "god damn it," he mutters, letting out a soft exhale that could possibly be perceived as a laugh.

it isn't too late. he could back out now, snuff the candles out and toss the cake so hard into the garbage can that it explodes on impact, leaving no evidence behind. that'd probably be the best thing to do. because what the fuck was this?

the unicorn cake sits on the dining room table, a few candles placed carefully (yet still somehow messily) into the pink icing, thoughtfully avoiding the unicorn decorations and rainbows.

logan shuffles nervously on his feet, hands clasped behind his back. he can already hear wade's annoying squealing in his ear, fussing and yelling and talking and just always fucking talking.

he'd made a deliberate effort to ignore all of wade's incessant reminders, 'it's my birthday month peanut, gotta be nice to me', 'i made sure to cancel everything on your very empty calendar for my birthday'. but in reality, logan had it memorised from the moment he learned the date.

a key enters the door, and logan stiffens up, then forces himself to relax in an attempt to look nonchalant. he looks anything but, head tilted down with dark eyes glued to the door - watching, waiting, anticipating.

"holy fuck balls that traffic is ridiculous!" wade whines, closing the door and rolling his neck as though he'd been worked to the bone, "i swear, it's like none of those careless fuckers know it's my birthday - can you believe that? i was thinking about getting a tattoo, the date on my forehead, y'know, so that when anyone asks they-"

wade stops, finally looking into the open room, eyes landing on the flicker of the candles. then to logan, eyes softening. "you. . . got me a cake?" wade whispers in the softest tone logan's ever heard from him, voice thick with emotion. it hits him unexpectedly.

logan puffs his chest out, "don't make a big deal outta it, bub." he says firmly, eyes straying from wade's gaze. feels like his eyes are boring into him, he doesn't like it. doesn't like the way wade looks at him, really looks at him. that kinda look is dangerous, could make a man believe he deserves to be forgiven for all he did or didn't do. could make a man believe that he's allowed happiness, however strange or unusual that source of happiness may be.

when logan's eyes trail back to meet wade's, he's already in front of him, arms wrapping around him in a tight hug as he rests his cheek against his broad chest. logan huffs, making a sound of disapproval initially, yet makes no effort to move or push him away. instead, he settles, allowing it.

he knows wade must hear his heartbeat, the fact that it's fluttering in his chest. but wade only squeezes his arms around him tighter in response.

for once, the merc with a mouth is silent, basking in this moment the other has allowed. he's almost in disbelief. to some, and hell, maybe even logan himself, it looked like. . . well, just a cake.

but it symbolised so much more than that.

if wade has had his hand outstretched all this time, approaching the skittish animal threatening to lash out in learned survival instincts - then this is the gentle nudge from the animal's snout into his palm. a curious, tentative step forward. a willingness to let someone in, let someone help.

and god, wade won't mess this up, won't disappoint, despite the fact that it's all he thought he was good for, for a long ass time. if logan's taught him anything, it's that life is so much more than what you boil yourself down to. it's what others see in you, too.

wade's eyes pop open when he feels logan's firm hands hesitantly rest upon his back, giving a gentle pat. he bites his tongue, a mirage of sex jokes slinging through his filth-riddled mind. perhaps in a way, that was his own defense mechanism, push him away with just enough jokes to keep him guessing.

but not today.

because today logan bought him a cake. the same day that logan realised that he's hopelessly, ridiculously, disgustingly, annoyingly. . . in love.

[nakylvr]

need to be watching comfort movies with manon and holding her like please let me take care of you my heart hurts

i stopped studying to write this up, it's probably trash but i needed to do something

— ANYTIME, ALWAYS 👑

warnings/tags: fluff, established relationship, f!reader

you knew something was off the moment you stepped inside the dorm for the girls after getting a text from manon. it was quiet with the rest of the girls gone for the award show, an oddity for the home that was buzzing always. you were given an extra key from sophia who explicitly told you that you were the only one to have an extra and to not let the staff find out. to be fair, you didn't really care though if the staff found out right now.

when you got the text from manon that read; can you come by? :(, with nothing else, you had a feeling something was wrong. you showed up at the dorm within twenty minutes.

you step into the living room, seeing manon sitting on the couch with the hood of her hoodie over her head watching, or trying, to watch a movie on the tv. she doesn't even notice your presence until you step closer to her. "hey, baby," you say softly, making her finally realize you're there and look up at you.

"hey," she says quietly. "how did you get in?"

"sophia gave me a key a while ago," you answer, sitting down next to her on the couch. "is everything okay?" you ask hesitantly.

"mm," manon hums, not moving. "just...things," she mumbles.

"okay..." your voice trails off as your eyes glance around. "do you want to talk about it?"

manon shakes her head, her eyes finally meeting yours with tears in her eyes. she opens her mouth to speak but you're wrapping your arms around her and pulling her into your embrace before she can get anything out. she puts her face in your neck, her arms grabbing your shirt tightly as if you would disappear.

"it's okay," you whisper softly. "it's okay," you reiterate a few times, your hand rubbing her back reassuringly. you can feel a few wet droplets hitting your skin, and you pull her closer to you, her body practically pressing against yours as she quietly cries into your neck.

you can hear her mumbling into your skin, and you can only make out a few words every now and then, but you can decipher it and figure out what she's saying. "look at me, baby," you say quietly, moving your hands to her face.

manon slowly lifts her head from your neck to look at you, her eyes slightly red from crying with a few tears still trailing down her cheeks. "i-i don-don't understand-"

"hey, hey," you interrupt her quickly, knowing exactly where it would lead. "i'm going to stop you right there. just breathe, okay? everything will be okay, you will be okay. i don't know what you're seeing, but ignore it. it's hard, i know. it's been hard, i know. but you're the strongest person i've ever met," you wipe the tears away with the pads of your thumbs. "i love you so much, the girls love you so much, everyone loves you. forget the small percentage of people who are jealous because you're talented and they aren't. you are so important to so many people. you mean the world to so many, to me. i love you so much."

listening to your words has more tears welling in manon's eyes as she nods along to what you're saying. "i love you too," she mumbles quietly.

you lean in and softly press your lips against hers, feeling her reciprocate instantly as her hands rest on your waist. you pull away for a moment, leaning your forehead on hers while wiping away the remaining tears. "is there anything you want to do?" you ask.

manon shakes her head lightly. "not really. i was watching a movie, but it's kinda trash."

you nod while giving a short hum. "okay. how about we put a good movie on and i'll order us something to eat?" you suggest.

"i'm okay with that," she replies.

"okay," you peck her lips, smiling slightly. you grab the remote off the table and grab manon's arm, pulling her down on top of you as you lay on your back along the couch. she giggles softly at the action, resting her head on your chest as you look through the movies listed on the tv. putting on a random one, you put the remote down and look back at manon, wrapping your arms around her. "i love you so much," you quietly speak.

"i love you too," she responds in the same voice. "please don't leave," she whispers.

"i won't," you immediately reply. "i promise." you kiss the top of her head. "you don't have to worry about that. i'm staying for as long as you'll keep me around."

"forever?" she murmurs.

"forever."

[allthemeniveloved]

Little Rat

Summary: Arthur Morgan saves you from an uncomfortable encounter with Micah.

-

The fire crackled low in the center of camp, casting flickering shadows against the trees surrounding Clemens Point. Most of the gang had turned in for the night, save for a few stragglers nursing drinks by the embers. You were tidying up your things near your tent, the quiet hum of the crickets offering a small sense of peace—until you heard the unmistakable drawl.

“Well, look who’s all alone in the dark,” Micah Bell said, stepping into your line of sight with that irritating smirk plastered across his face. His eyes glinted in the dim light, and you instantly felt your guard go up.

“Micah,” you said tersely, keeping your tone neutral. “What do you want?”

He feigned offense, holding a hand to his chest. “Now, that’s no way to greet someone, is it? Just tryin’ to be sociable, sweetheart. Seems like you could use the company.”

You shot him a cold glare. “I don’t need anything, least of all from you.”

Micah chuckled low, ignoring your clear discomfort as he took another step closer, his presence pressing in on you. “Now, now. Don’t be like that. I think you and me, we could get along real well if you’d just stop actin’ so high and mighty. Ain’t nobody else around, anyway. What’s the harm?”

You stepped back instinctively, your pulse quickening. “Back off, Micah,” you warned, trying to keep your voice steady.

He didn’t listen. Instead, he reached out, his hand gripping your arm as he leaned in closer. “Aw, c’mon, darlin’. Don’t be like that. I don’t bite.”

Before you could push him away, a deep voice growled from the shadows. “Touch her again, Micah, and you won’t have a hand left to use.”

Both of you turned toward the source of the voice, and there he was—Arthur Morgan, standing at the edge of the firelight. His hat was pulled low, his jaw set tight, and his hand rested casually on the butt of his pistol.

Micah straightened, sneering. “Well, if it ain’t Arthur Morgan,” he spat. “You always gotta stick your nose where it don’t belong cowpoke?”

Arthur didn’t answer right away. Instead, he took a slow, deliberate step forward, his gaze locked on Micah with a look that could freeze the blood in your veins. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, but it carried an unmistakable weight. “Ain’t no need to explain yourself, Micah. Just walk away.”

Micah raised his hands in mock surrender, a smirk tugging at his lips, “I was only paying her a compliment, that’s all.”

“You keep your compliments - and yourself - far away from her, or you’ll be eating the dirt under my boots. Got it?”

Micah hesitated, his eyes darting between you and Arthur. He opened his mouth to protest, but Arthur’s hand moved slightly on his pistol, and that was enough to send Micah scowling back toward his tent with a muttered curse.

Once Micah disappeared into the darkness, Arthur turned to you, his expression softening ever so slightly. “You alright?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly.

You nodded, though your heart was still pounding. “I am now. Thank you.”

Arthur grunted, his hand falling away from his holster as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Didn’t mean to get involved, but… couldn’t just stand there watchin’ him bother you like that.”

You offered a small, grateful smile. “I’m glad you did. He’s… persistent.”

Arthur’s jaw tightened again, and he glanced toward where Micah had gone. “He tries it again, you let me know,” he said, his tone sharp with barely restrained anger. “I’ll make sure he don’t forget his place.”

There was something in his gaze when he looked at you—something fierce and protective, but also hesitant, like he wasn’t sure he should let you see it. You didn’t know what to say, caught off guard by how much safer you felt just standing near him.

“Thank you, Arthur,” you said again, softer this time. “I mean it.”

He looked away, his cheeks tinged red beneath his scruffy beard. “Don’t gotta thank me,” he muttered, almost embarrassed. “Just… don’t like seein’ you get hurt, is all.”

As he started to walk away, you caught yourself staring after him, wondering why your heart felt a little lighter, even after what had just happened. Arthur, on the other hand, kept his back to you, his fists clenched as he cursed himself for not saying more—for not telling you the truth about why he couldn’t stand the thought of Micah or anyone else getting too close to you.

-

a/n: I’m feeling so unbelievably productive & creative this week and the thoughts are just flowing but I just know I’m going to crash this weekend or next week and not write again for another 7 years