#im having fun sort of. discovering this style

[araneapeixes]

Yoo im really liking how the colors are coming out in this style actually<33

[happyyyandcrazyyy]

love and tattoos (kaz brekker x reader)

summary: in which jesper has a theory and kaz might be the matching tattoos kind of guy.

or

it’s two small words, a raven and a crow, a broken lock and a key, and a band around their ring finger.

or

“He has to be drunk, or high, or something, because there is absolutely no way he’s just seen a band of ink around Kaz’s ring finger.”

warnings: brief panic attack (not detailed), mentions of wounds and blood (not detailed, canon typical), set in the future, kaz has worked on his touch aversion

kaz taglist: @the-tpd-bau @ellievickstar @thestudiouswanderer | soc taglist: @ancientbeing10 (if you want to be added or removed from the taglist just dm me!)

a/n: here i am, once again, because apparently im incapable of stopping myself from writing for kaz brekker. i have so many wips but kaz always calls to me😭😭 this one was so much fun to write, it just flowed, and i hope you enjoy it just as much as i did!!

i. a band of ink around his ring finger, part one.

Jesper must be hallucinating, he has to be. He blinks once, twice, looks down at the drink in his hand, briefly wonders if it’s been laced with some sort of drug powerful enough to have his brain imagining things— because Jesper does not have the imagination to be making this up, he wishes he did —and then looks back up. The ink remains in place. Nope, no way. He shakes his head, presses his eyes shut. He has to be drunk, or high, or something, because there is absolutely no way he’s just seen a band of ink around Kaz’s ring finger.

It’s not the tattoo itself that shocks Jesper. Although, maybe it does freak him out a bit, a band around the ring finger can only mean one thing, and Jesper has never believed Kaz to be the marrying type. (Then again, he never thought him to be the matching tattoos kind of guy, and the last couple of months have had him discovering that Kaz very much could be.) No, what makes Jesper spiral is that he’s seen that exact same tattoo on (Y/N)’s own ring finger.

ii. you break, i mend.

Jesper has seen the tattoo on the inside of (Y/N)’s left wrist more times than he can count.

The word ‘mend’ in all lowercase, the typography delicate and elegant, the font somewhat rounded. Jesper has never asked what it means— because everyone in the Barrel has been branded, either by choice or against their will, and Jesper knows the black ink carries memories, promises and pain, he knows better than to ask —but he thinks it’s fitting for her, both the word and the style. Because (Y/N) is a gentle force, someone who provides emotional care to those close to her, a fixer. She loves proudly and deeply, and Jesper has never met someone in this wretched place that is so unafraid to be kind. He doesn’t know what she does to remain untainted, to keep her soul so pure in spite of their line of work. He envies it, sometimes. But then he’ll hear muted sobs through the thin walls, wake up at the sound of screams caused by nightmares, and he’ll wonder if feeling and caring that much is even worth it.

Jesper doesn’t think much about (Y/N)’s tattoo— it’s pretty and it suits her, and, yeah, he gets the desperate need to ask for a backstory whenever he catches a glimpse of it, but never does. There’s nothing more to it. That is until he spies a word on Kaz’s own wrist.

He only sees the tattoo because Kaz takes his gloves off. That doesn’t happen very often, if at all. But it’s the hottest day of summer they’ve had in Ketterdam in years, and they’ve been out in the sun all day, so Jesper is only mildly surprised when they reach Kaz’s office and he takes the black gloves off. What does take him completely off guard, however, is the inked word on his right wrist, partially hidden by the sleeves of his shirt.

‘BREAK’. In uppercase, with jagged and fragmented lettering. Jesper only catches a glimpse before Kaz twists away and the ink is completely sheltered by his clothes, but he’s almost sure the tattoo has some sort of optical effect, makes it seem like the words have been shattered, all sharp and angular lines.

Kaz is saying something and Inej is responding, and it’s probably important and he definitely should be paying attention, but Jesper’s mind is elsewhere because (Y/N)’s delicate tattoo suddenly comes to mind. The similarities are just right there and now all Jesper can think about is how odd of a coincidence it is that (Y/N) and Kaz have mirror tattoos. Same place, but opposite wrist. A single word, one neat and elegant, the other harsh and precise. Jesper does not believe in coincidences, but it can’t be anything else— because believing it to be something else would mean believing Kaz to be a matching tattoos type of person and Jesper would bet his guns against that —so he simply ponders over the possible coincidence, just for a quick second, before Kaz is directing questions towards him and Jesper is forced to shove the information in the back of his mind.

He ends up forgetting about it. Not forgetting forgetting, more so in the way he forgets his debts until there are collectors knocking on his door. The information is there, stored in some corner of his brain, ready to be brought back into his consciousness with just the right push.

The right push comes a Saturday night, two months after he first notices Kaz’s tattoo.

(Y/N) is out on a job. Jesper doesn’t know any of the details— not the target, nor the entry and exit routes, nothing at all —but he knows something is wrong because Kaz has been pacing for the last half hour.

“She should be back by now,” is all Kaz says when he asks. He doesn’t really need to say more. Jesper feels the way his chest constricts, panic slowly building. (Y/N) is never late.

Just as Jesper feels like he’s about to start pacing himself, the door of the Slat opens. She’s got her hood on, doesn’t look up from the floor when she walks in. There’s a certain drag in her limbs, something that tells Jesper that something is wrong, wrong, wrong.

“Where the fuck were you?” The words aren’t directed towards him, but Jesper cannot help but flinch. Kaz doesn’t get like this often, cold and harsh because he’s worried, so the job must’ve been important, high stakes, the type where survival isn’t assured.

(Y/N) looks up, and it’s only then that Jesper notices the blood. It’s everywhere. It drips down the slope of her nose, it trails down her lips. She walks closer and with the change of light he notices that it’s also embedded in her clothes. The most disturbing thing, however, are her eyes. Glassy, distant, unseeing. She’s shaking. Full body tremors.

By his side, Kaz deflates completely at the sight of her. He’s already moving towards her when she whispers brokenly, “I’m sorry.”

The apology goes ignored, “Where are you hurt?” Kaz asks. He reins his panic well enough, but Jesper can still taste the traces of it, they float around in the air.

(Y/N) doesn’t move, doesn’t acknowledge Kaz as he comes to stand right in front of her, trying his best to assess for injuries. It’s hard when all there is to see is blood.

“I’m not hurt,” she responds, and it’s like she’s in a trance, capable of responding but not truly present. Jesper furrows his brows, catches the concerned look on Kaz face. Does she not realize she’s covered in blood? She raises her hand to gesture at herself, and it’s only when she does so that Jesper notices the blade. She waves it around. It’s stained red, all the way to the handle. “Blood’s not mine.”

Jesper freezes. Kaz stops dead on his tracks, too.

Kaz looks back at him and understanding passes through them. She snapped. Something made her snap.

It seems like she’s just processing it, too, because a second after she mutters those words the knife falls from her hand and her knees wobble. It’s like Kaz had been expecting the sudden crash, because he’s quick to help her down. He grabs her by the sleeves of her tunic and sits her on the floor, back against the wall.

Her breathing begins to come out hard and labored, she clutches at her chest, hard.

“Look at me,” Kaz instructs, but she’s not here anymore. Jesper cannot help the way fear courses through him at the sight of her faraway eyes and the sound of her disordered breaths. He’s only ever seen (Y/N) like this once before, and even then, it hadn’t been this bad, she’d been responsive to Kaz, and very much able to breathe properly. Right now, not even Kaz’s words are cutting through the haze.

The wheezing becomes louder, more intense. The more she panics, the less she breathes, the more Jesper feels like he, himself, isn’t capable of getting air into his lungs. Kaz keeps talking, but she doesn’t seem to hear him.

“I can’t—” Her lips are slowly losing color.

Jesper is still frozen in place, and he can tell that Kaz is also beginning to panic by the way he grabs her clothed hand and presses it against his own chest.

“Breathe,” he orders. Insistent, firm. Kaz’s words leave no room for argument and (Y/N) reacts accordingly. Like it’s instinct to do as Kaz says, she takes in a deep breath, ragged.

“Good girl.” Kaz’s hand, the one that isn’t on top of (Y/N)’s own, pressed against his chest, hovers over her cheek. He ends up grabbing the end of the hood that still partially covers her face. “One more time.”

She repeats the action, another deep breath, interrupted by a brief coughing fit.

“You’re okay, match my breaths.” She nods weakly and does as best she can, eyes shut. The hand that is on Kaz’s chest has become a fist, rumpling his shirt. She holds onto him like a lifeline.

“I’ll get her water,” he finds himself saying.

Kaz doesn’t turn to look at him, “Bring a wet cloth, too.”

Jesper nods and slips out of the room and into the kitchen. He feels like he’s having an out of body experience, his body working automatically on pouring tap water in a glass, on finding a clean cloth. His mind is miles away.

Saints.

It’s disconcerting to see someone as serene and put together as (Y/N) so rattled and distraught. He feels disoriented, like the world has shifted off his feet. He’s never seen her snap so badly that she ends up spiraling into a panic attack. Jesper doesn’t know much about her past, but Kaz had once mentioned something about a complicated upbringing, about being raised as a weapon not a child. He doesn’t want to begin to imagine what he’d meant.

The soft murmur of words brings him back to reality, grounds him and guides him once again into his body.

“Are you with me?”

No response, but Jesper imagines that she must’ve nodded because he hears the soft sigh of relief that Kaz lets out.

It’s quiet for a little while, Jesper focuses on the sound of water flowing through the cloth in his hands, the feeling of it getting damper.

“I’m sorry.” The words come out soft, filled with emotion and embarrassment.

“None of that.”

“I didn’t mean to…”

“I know. It’s okay.”

The silence lingers before being filled by quiet noises. Jesper has heard her sobs through his wall enough times to identify them. His heart tightens painfully.

“It’s okay,” Kaz repeats, softer this time. It’s a tone Jesper has never heard him use with anyone else.

“There were children, Kaz,” Jesper has to strain to make out the words, they’re muffled by something, “little kids. And it just reminded me of… I couldn’t...”

“I know.”

A sniffle, “I’m sorry,” followed by a broken laugh, soft and sad. “I’m a mess.”

Jesper turns off the faucet, twists the cloths to remove any excess of water. He grabs the glass of water with one hand and the cloth with the other and then, just, waits. He knows this conversation is not one he should be present for, he doesn’t want to be present.

It’s a good thing, too, that he doesn’t make his way towards them, because he’s pretty sure he would’ve stumbled and dropped everything at the next words that fall out of Kaz’s mouth.

“If you break, I mend, remember?”

(mend

BREAK)

Jesper places the glass of water on the kitchen counter and blinks once, twice.

Saints be damned.

Kaz might be the matching tattoos type of person.

iii. a raven and a crow

The matching tattoo theory, as Jesper likes to refer to it, remains just that, a theory. Because Jesper has no real way of proving it, not unless he finds the will to ask (Y/N)— which he just can’t do, she’s so open about everything that prodding just feels unfair —or unless he brings his curiosity to Kaz— which might just end up with him losing a finger, and Jesper likes his limbs just as they are, thank you very much. So, for now, it’s merely speculation, something that could be played off as a coincidence. And he thinks it must be a coincidence, right? Matching tattoos are too sentimental for someone like Kaz. (Then again, he has always been different when it comes to (Y/N), so maybe Jesper shouldn’t be that surprised.) And they aren’t matching tattoos, not really, they are more like, well, mirror ones. It’s different. Probably nothing. He might be connecting dots where there’s absolutely nothing to connect.

He can’t help the way he begins to observe more, trying to find anything to sustain or disprove his theory. It’s only natural, he tells himself, Jesper is nothing if not a curious man.

It’s only because he becomes so attuned to them, and whatever that thing is that they have going on, that Jesper notices little things.

“Inej?”

“Good.”

Kaz keeps on making roll call, making sure all of them are there and unharmed.

“Jes?”

“Very much alive,” he grunts in response, letting himself flop into the haystack. His heart feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest, but at least it’s still beating. He cannot believe a blizzard of all things is what saved their lives.

He looks to his left. Even Inej looks slightly winded. She pats the pocket of her coat, sags in relief immediately after. Jesper does the same, touches his inner pocket, feels the edges of the glass key, and sighs.

The goods are safe.

“Nina?”

“Here.” Her cheeks are rosy. Jesper isn’t sure if it’s because of the dreadful cold or the exertion.

There’s silence after, the room filled by only harsh breaths. Jesper snaps up, looking around frantically, because Kaz is not calling (Y/N)’s name and that can only mean that she’s not there or she’s…

His mind quiets down when he takes in the sight in front of him.

Kaz is not calling (Y/N)’s name because he already has eyes on her. Probably always did.

And that’s when Jesper sees it, a little thing, something that tilts the scales in favor of his theory; the softness in (Y/N)’s face as she listens to Kaz.

(Y/N) is always kind— with battered gang members and hungry street urchins, with the loud customers and even with those who dare gamble against her —but Jesper is just now realizing that there’s a different gentleness when it comes to the way she takes Kaz in. The look in her eyes becomes quieter, more intimate, delicate. She says something, much too quiet for Jesper to hear, and smiles. Kaz shakes his head fondly, responds with a hushed whisper. It’s tender, precious, private. It makes Jesper feel like he’s intruding.

And then something Jesper has never seen before happens. Kaz takes (Y/N)’s chin with his gloved hand, thumb and index fingers holding her. He moves her face around, looking for any visible injury.

There goes another detail in favor of the matching tattoo theory.

Jesper thinks he might’ve just entered some sort of altered reality because what is he even looking at right now. He looks around but Inej and Nina aren’t paying them any mind, too engrossed in their own conversation.

Great, he’s all alone in trying to figure this thing out.

“I’m okay,” he hears (Y/N) reassure.

For the most part, Jesper thinks to himself, because he doesn’t miss the way she’s pressing her hand to her abdomen. Apparently, it hasn’t slipped past Kaz either, because he hums and raises his eyebrows, eyes pointedly trailing down to the wound.

She rolls her eyes at him, even that action looks fond, “It’s not deep.”

Kaz is more tactile with her, Jesper realizes with a start. It’s not a word he would ever use to describe Dirtyhands, but it’s the only one that comes to mind. (And Kaz has gotten better over the years, he has. It’s been gradual, and Jesper has no clue as to how or what he’s done, but he hasn’t missed the way Kaz doesn’t cringe away from the Crows anymore, how he doesn’t pale when someone brushes against him. He doesn’t seek touch, but he doesn’t lose all semblance of control at it either. Still, tactile is farther from what Kaz is, and this? This is huge. This is the greatest display of touch Jesper has ever seen him do.)

“You’ve got it?”

“Yeah, I’ll stitch it.”

His gloved thumb brushes her skin, briefly, before he taps the bottom of her chin gently, in approval, and lets her go.

“I can help you with that,” Nina pipes up.

Jesper turns around, immediately catches the look in the Heartrender’s eyes. Seems like he might not be the only one noticing things.

(Y/N) nods in agreement and Nina follows after her. Jesper decides, after taking only two seconds to ponder on the thought, to trail behind them. He wants to listen in— because he knows Nina won’t be able to keep herself from commenting or questioning and he’s aching to know —but he’s also hoping the Heartrender will take pity on him and heal some of his bruises.

“What do you want?” Nina asks him as they settle on a small corner of the stable. (Y/N) leans against a wooden post as she begins to undress, untucking her shirt.

Jesper simply points at the bruise he can already feel forming on his cheekbone, offering a cheeky smile.

“I’m not a nurse, Fahey.”

“You’re gonna stitch her up!” (Y/N) is watching with amusement and when Jesper points at her she raises one hand in surrender, the other still pressed against her wound.

“Yeah, well,” Nina shrugs, needle and thread in hand, “She’s my favorite.”

(Y/N) chuckles. There’s a broken-down iron chest and she sits on it as well as she can, leaning back so that Nina can work. She winks at him, “Privileges, Jes.”

He pouts.

“Saints,” Nina mutters when she catches a look of him. She’s decided that kneeling by (Y/N) side will be the most comfortable position for her to work. She cleans the wound, pours water over it, and doesn’t turn to him as she says, “If you stop doing that face I’ll see what I can do about the bruise.”

He smirks to himself, “You’ve got it, boss.”

Jesper can’t see it, but he’s sure she rolls her eyes at him.

“Try not to move,” she instructs (Y/N), voice gaining a softer, less teasing edge. The needle pricks the skin.

It’s not a deep wound, (Y/N) had been right about that. It bleeds, but the flow seems to be slowing down. It’s a little bit over her hipbone, but not quite on her abdomen. Judging by the injury, if Jesper had to guess, he would say it was probably caused by a straight back blade.

He had sort of expected Nina to immediately fire away, to start unabashedly questioning, but she doesn’t. She moves her hands in a repetitive motion, closing the skin. Then, she casually comments, “That’s not a crow.”

It’s only then that Jesper notices the ink; just over (Y/N)'s hipbone, only visible because she’d pulled her trousers a bit down to give Nina more skin to maneuver around.

“No, it isn’t,” (Y/N) confirms. She’s got her eyes closed, looks a lot more like she’s sleeping and not like she’s having her skin stitched back together. Either Nina has an amazing ability or she’s somehow managing to dissociate from the pain.

“A raven?”

“Yeah.”

Jesper leans away from the wall to get a better look at it. It’s small, simple, just the silhouette done in thin black lines. He has no idea how Nina managed to identify the bird.

Nina stays quiet for a split second, musing. She keeps her hands steady, thread pulling skin. Apparently, she decides she does not care about decorum— just like Jesper had expected —because she ends up stating, matter-of-factly, “Kaz calls you that.”

Jesper sort of forgets how to breathe. That’s why Nina hadn’t gone on a tangent regarding the touches and the glances, he realizes in that moment. She’d been distracted by something much more interesting.

And she hadn’t identified the bird, she’d just made an informed assumption. Because Kaz does call her that, raven, and sometimes, when he's feeling particularly fond, little raven. He uses it interchangeably with her name and often enough that when Jesper had initially joined the Dregs, all those years back, he’d assumed it to be her name. He’s not quite sure how Nina, who’s been with them for a shorter period of time, managed to make that connection quicker than him.

(Y/N) lets out a breathy laugh, “That he does.”

Instead of further grilling (Y/N) about the tattoo, as Jesper had expected, Nina changes the line of inquiry.

“Why?” She stops sewing and looks up at (Y/N), eyes filled with curiosity.

Oh, she’s insane, Jesper thinks to himself. He sort of wishes he’d have the audacity to ask such direct questions.

(Y/N) doesn’t seem bothered by the prodding, only mildly amused. She chuckles, “You would have to ask him that.”

Not even Nina is insane enough to dare do that. Probably. Nina is sort of a wild card, Jesper can never get a complete read on her.

She proves her sanity by taking the easier route, she whines and pouts, “C’mon. Tell us.”

(Y/N) laughs, louder this time. The reaction is immediate, the wound oozes more blood, and she flinches, moving her hand towards the injury and managing to stop herself millimeters before touching it. It makes Nina get back to stitching.

“You’re bold,” (Y/N) opens her eyes and looks straight at Jesper. There’s something in her eyes, a glimmer that passes quickly, like she knows something that Jesper doesn’t and it amuses her. “Jes would never dare ask.”

“Hey!” He pretends to be offended but isn’t really. She knows him too well.

“You know it’s true.”

He only grumbles in response, hates that she’s right.

Nina is suddenly tense, as if she isn’t quite sure if (Y/N)’s words are meant as a compliment or a reprimand. (Y/N) closes her eyes again, rests her head against the wall and reassures her, “I like that. Your boldness.”

And Nina preens, subtly, but she does. Jesper understands. (Y/N)’s approval somehow comes to mean everything to those around her. She’s like an older sister you’re always trying to impress.

Jesper thinks she won’t be saying anything more, but (Y/N) does.

“Ravens are softer than crows, more playful,” she mumbles quietly. Jesper, who isn’t even far from her, strains to hear, “Gentler, too.” And it’s like she knows exactly where the ink lays on her skin, like she has it memorized, because she manages to avoid Nina and the needle and trace the outline of the tattoo, eyes still closed, “And yet they manage to survive in the same brutal world that crows do.”

The words sink in. Jesper blinks once, twice, shifts on his feet, somewhat uncomfortable. It feels like he’s just gained insight on something much too private, into the feelings and thoughts of Kaz Brekker. Because what she just explained, vaguely and in simple words, has a much deeper meaning, and Jesper doesn’t miss that. It’s how Kaz sees her, an equal. Someone as strong as a crow, as fierce and resourceful and capable, but softer, gentler. That’s (Y/N) to him.

“That’s it?” Nina sounds perpetually unimpressed, but she doesn’t get it. She hasn’t been with the Crows long enough to understand.

(Y/N) smirks, like she knew the words wouldn’t mean much to her, and that tells Jesper something. There’s even more to the meaning of the nickname and she won’t be sharing.

“If you want more you can just ask Kaz.”

Nina huffs and pouts, pulls at the thread a bit harsher than necessary in retaliation. It probably doesn’t even sting, but (Y/N) plays along.

“Ow!?” The smirk remains on her face.

“Sorry,” Nina says, not sounding the least apologetic.

(Y/N) only chuckles, “I really do like your boldness.”

It isn’t until later that night, as Jesper sleeps in the haystack and shivers from the cold, hoping to the Saints that the smell of horse can be removed from his clothes, that realization strikes him. His eyes snap wide open.

The image of a letter R inked in Kaz’s forearm flashes through his mind.

R.

A Raven.

No fucking way.

He has no evidence of it, no evidence that those tattoos might be complementary, but something in his gut tells him they are, and he decides to listen to his instincts.

Great, that’s yet another circumstantial piece of evidence in favor of his theory.

(Jesper doesn’t know, will never know, but he gets it both wrong and right. The letter R that is permanently etched on Kaz’s skin means something else entirely, but he does have the small silhouette of a crow, different from the one on his arm, over his ribs.)

iv. a broken lock and a key

Jesper and (Y/N) stay behind. It’s Jesper’s fault, he’d landed wrong when they jumped off the cliff, too busy on firing his guns to focus on the landing, and the resulting sprained ankle made it hard to keep up with the rest. (Maybe it was sort of Kaz’s fault, too, because who even decides on an exit route that includes free falling off a cliff. Jesper should be used to Kaz’s antics by now, but the man keeps on outdoing himself.)

(Y/N) had quickly offered to match his pace, to keep him company while the rest went ahead.

After a quick discussion Kaz had agreed to it. Jesper hadn’t missed the way they’d said goodbye. Their pinky fingers interlacing with one another.

He might not be completely sure about his matching tattoo theory— denial, really, he’s in denial, and he’s man enough to admit that to himself —but he has absolutely no doubt there is something going on between them. Jesper hasn’t put a name on it yet, he’s not even sure they have, but one would have to be blind to deny it.

Wylan had volunteered too, but Kaz needed him for the next phase of the plan, so he wasn’t really an option. A shame, really, Jesper would’ve enjoyed some alone time with his boyfriend, but he can’t complain, (Y/N) is good company. She doesn’t whine about how slow they’re going, doesn’t mention the fact that, by now, they’re probably two days behind. She keeps the air between them filled with light chatter and that makes it more bearable, makes him feel less of a burden.

On the third day of their journey Jesper wakes up alone. He’s not immediately filled by dread because he’s a light sleeper, he’s sure he would’ve woken up at the sound of any commotion, and he’s even more certain that (Y/N) would’ve had any attacker down on the floor with a gun to their temple before they even had the chance to breathe too close to them.

So, he’s not worried, but there’s something about not having (Y/N) within his line of sight that feels wrong, partly because he’s got no idea where she is, and mainly because Kaz had given him a cautionary glare when they’d ventured ahead, an easily interpreted warning to keep her safe or else.

It’s only when he begins to look around that Jesper notices her knapsack is also missing. He closes his eyes and focuses. Somewhere in the distance he can hear running water. He follows the sound before he can think too much, limping along the way.

Jesper finds her easily. He sort of wishes he hadn’t found her. Because she is showering in the lake and she is completely naked.

“Saints!” It’s a knee-jerk reaction to turn around, eyes screwed shut. “I am so sorry.”

(Y/N) snickers, unbothered, “Relax, Jes. It’s okay.”

And she’s saying that, but Jesper is pretty sure Kaz would gauge his eyes off is he found out he’s just seen her completely nude.

He shakes his head, over and over. Ah, Kaz is going to kill him. He is a dead man walking.

She must be watching him because she lets out a laugh.

“Oh, please.” There’s amusement in her tone, “Nothing you haven’t seen before,” she teases, and Jesper regrets every single thing he’s ever told her about his sexual encounters.

He huffs out a laugh. It’s got nothing to do with that, Jesper isn’t a prude, he’s just trying to process the fact that if Kaz ever finds out he will more than likely lose a finger, or his life. But he can’t say that, that’s a conversation he’s not ready to have, so he settles for, “You’re like my sister, it’s not the same.”

“Fair enough,” she responds. Jesper catches the affection in her voice. He doesn’t think he’s ever told her how she sees her as family and she must’ve known, their bond runs deep, it goes unspoken, but maybe it’s different to hear it out loud.

“It’s my fault anyways, I shouldn’t have left without telling you where I was going,” she disrupts his thoughts. “But you were finally sleeping.”

“Yeah,” he mumbles. Obviously it wouldn’t slip past her that in between the pain on his ankle and the cold of the night he’s been having a hard time falling asleep.

“You shouldn’t be standing for long,” she points out, and Jesper agrees. His leg is beginning to ache and if they’re going to travel long today, he must rest as much as he can. But the idea of walking back to camp and leaving her alone doesn’t sit right with him— even if he knows she’s capable of defending herself, she would probably do a better job than him, given his state —so he limps towards a big rock, back still towards her, and sits.

“You’re gonna keep me company?”

Jesper hums in response, “Talk so I know you haven’t suddenly been kidnapped.”

She doesn’t talk, instead she sings. It’s an old Kerch song, Jesper knows because of the mournful feel. It builds up slow and steady, flows with the morning air. She's got a nice voice. Jesper never gets tired of hearing her.

It’s as he listens, slowly being lulled into a peaceful mindset, that the memory of the ink flows through his mind. It’d been the thing his eyes had zeroed in, the black mark on the back of her neck.

Maybe it’s the soothing music, or maybe he’s slowly becoming more daring, but the words slip out of his mouth without thought, “Is it a key?”

(Y/N) stops midway through the bridge of the song.

“What?” she asks, confusion permeating the lone word.

“On the back of your neck,” Jesper clarifies, gesturing to his own neck.

There’s silence, long enough for Jesper to start thinking that maybe this wasn’t the best idea, before the air is filled with laughter. She chuckles as if he's just said the funniest thing.

She’s still giggling when she says, “I can’t believe you caught sight of it.”

He’s confused by her reaction and settles for responding with a teasing, “I’ve got a great vision.”

“That you do,” she replies. "It is a key," she confirms and then the singing starts again, more of a humming this time around, a much brighter song.

And Jesper must be really really losing the filter between his mouth and his brain— he blames the pain and the lack of sleep —because he finds himself asking, “Does Kaz have a lock, by any chance?”

He’s teasing, but not really. It’s a good enough question, not truly invasive. It gives her room to answer as she wishes.

To his surprise, she says, “Yes, he does.”

His head snaps towards her, momentarily forgetting that she’s naked and that Kaz will definitely kill him for seeing her naked twice. To his luck, (Y/N) is already getting dressed, water dripping down her hair and staining her shirt.

“What?”

There’s a sharp glint in her eyes, knowing, almost playful. A smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth, just enough hint of mischief to make Jesper doubt the truthfulness of her words.

“Yeah,” she repeats in mock seriousness, “he’s got a small lock around here,” she points the area around her collarbone, close to where her heart is. “It’s very pretty.”

“You’re fucking with me.”

(Y/N) snickers, “Maybe I am.” She ruffles his hair as she walks past him.

Weeks later Jesper realizes that she had been fucking with him, but not lying. Kaz’s shirt rips during a heist and Jesper catches the briefest glimpse of the image of a broken lock, inked right above his heart.

v. a band of ink around his ring finger, part two.

As if summoned by his thoughts, (Y/N) materializes by his side. She takes a look at his face, follows his line of sight, and snickers.

“Did you finally figure it out?”

He turns to her. Blinks once, twice.

“What?”

She looks highly entertained by the evident confusion on his face.

“I caught you staring at my tattoo sometimes,” Jesper follows the movement of her fingers, watches as she rubs the mend on her wrist absentmindedly. “And then you would get this constipated look on your face.”

Jesper sputters, “I do not look constipated.”

“Only when you’re thinking too hard,” she teases, her smile bright. “So, I figured, well…”

“That I might be losing my mind trying to figure out if Kaz is the matching tattoo kind of person?”

“Yep, something like that,” she takes a sip of her drink. “He is, by the way.” (Y/N)’s not looking at him anymore, her eyes have drifted. He follows her sight and isn’t surprised to find her looking at Kaz. She softens immediately. “All the tattoos were his idea.”

Jesper feels like he’s really entered some other reality. He can’t believe she’s just telling him all this. Does this mean that he could’ve known months ago if he’d just asked?

“And,” he dares ask, because apparently (Y/N) is in a sharing mood, and apparently he's grown bolder. It must be the alcohol. “You’re married?”

He doesn’t miss the way she rubs her thumb against her ring finger, the one that contains the exact same band of ink as Kaz’s.

“Yeah.”

“Actually?”

She pulls her necklace. A wedding band lies there. It’s anything but traditional. Black, probably forged from oxidized steel. Sleek, unadorned and somehow still elegant. There’s something engraved on the inside. Jesper just catches the letter R.

“Got the documents to prove it, too.”

Jesper sighs, astounded, “You never said a thing.”

“We didn’t really keep it a secret, just private.” It sounds like an apology somehow. “It's just, in a place like this," she gestures around, "some things you have to keep to yourself."

Jesper understands.

He shakes his head, still somehow feeling like he’s drugged.

Kaz Brekker, a matching tattoo and marriage type of person. Who would’ve guessed.

“Lovers, huh?”

(Y/N) smiles, before she slips away and makes her way towards Kaz, Jesper hears her whisper.

“‘Lovers’ feels too small a word for what we are.”

[the-californicationist]

Let's get you to 100, new gif addition and prompt ask!

Reader likes being controlled, even as she chafes against it, but there's only 1 person she wants to have that privilege.

You decide who, have fun writing lovely 😏

heyyy!! im backkkkkkk 😘 sorry for the wait! had to go on a bit of a hiatus, so thanks for being patient. and thank you so much for the ask!! sexy as hell babes omg. hope you like it. i went a little overboard on the word count sorry 🫣

TW: light bdsm and contol themes, rough sex

Soft Reins

His voice followed you down the wet sidewalk as you made your escape, striding in long reaching steps to put more distance between yourself and your apartment. 

“C’mon, bonnie! Ye cannae walk in this shite. It’s pissin’ down. Bonnie!”

You waved and smiled up at Soap as he hung over the balcony of your shared space, a deep frown pasted across his mouth as he tried to dodge the raindrops. 

Living with the boys, as you lovingly called them, was full of challenges. For one, they seemed to be oblivious to deep cleaning of any kind, and if you didn’t have the primary school style chore chart hanging on the fridge, your whole house would descend into chaos. The only exception was their captain, and his standards were thankfully on par with your own. 

But, even worse, they were nosey. They seemed to love to be in your business, always making excuses to join you on nights out, standing in an all-too-intimidating pack when you brought home dates from said outings. Even Price was not above casually bullying an unsuspecting potential someone. It was enough to drive a girl mad.

You never got a call back. Any bloke brave enough to follow you back to your place, flanked by your surly entourage, was only as courageous as he needed to be to get his dick wet. After that, he’d ghost you. There were plenty of eligible partners who had much less intimidating roommates. 

In the past year, the longest relationship you had was with a man who didn’t make it over to your house for nearly four months. You had gone through all sorts of trouble to keep the boys from finding out about him, and you guarded his address like it was the nuclear launch codes. You thought you were in the clear when the team had to leave for another deployment, but one morning — when you were wearing only your boyfriend’s tee shirt — they decided to come tromping back in, totally unannounced. 

It was all over, then. Back to the drawing board. 

Gaz was the worst offender by far. Once, when you had planned a spa date for yourself, you’d been treated to all sorts of services that you didn’t order. The staff kept insisting that it was complimentary, but you knew in your heart that it wasn’t. By the end of the visit, you were left fretting about the bill. But, when you walked up to the counter, you discovered that it had already been paid. 

 “Oh! Your mister called it in. Already paid.” The clerk’s smile was blinding in only the way a clerk’s smile could be.

“And who is the mister?” You smiled to yourself, not with much joy, shoving your credit card back into your wallet.

“Well, he said he was your mister. A Mr. Garrick?”

Of course. 

You had only to turn around to see his shining red Beamer revved and waiting to take you to lunch. Gaz’s sunglasses gleamed in the daylight as he grinned down at you, standing over his car, his elbows resting on the roof, smug as could be.

You met him in the parking lot, bags and bags of essential oils and spa creams, heavy in your hands.

“Kyle,” you said curtly, “What did you do?”

“Nothin’, babes. Get in. We’ve got a table at that sushi joint you like.”

You complained that Gaz was overstepping. You moaned about Soap being heavy-handed. You lost your temper when you found the fourteenth Air Tag that Ghost had sewn into the bottom of your trainers. It was too much. You hated feeling trapped, and you thrived in your independence. But, living with these men meant that your desire for freedom was directly at odds with their desire for control. 

It wasn’t their fault, really. That was who they were. They were good at their high-profile special operation world-saving careers because they were good at control. It was what made them great soldiers. 

But, one of them was far better at it than the others. 

Captain John Price didn’t follow you down the street. He didn’t chase you in his shadowy, blacked-out Evija. And he certainly didn’t need to hide trackers in your clothes. No; his control was insidious. It made your blood boil, and it had you questioning your every move. He had a way of making you think that what he wanted was what you wanted, and when you ultimately discovered his plans, you could only blame yourself. Price was the king of control, but that wasn’t the worst part. 

The worst part was that you liked it. 

You hadn’t been home for the holidays in years. Ever since lockdown, and your huge workload at your office, you just couldn’t find the time to make it back. International flights were hard to plan, expensive, and it seemed like something always came up. When you mentioned it off-handedly to Price, he’d comforted you, 

“Tha’s alright, sweetheart. I’m sure you’ll find the time this year.”

That was in June. By December, your boss had mysteriously found out that you had a full week of extra paid time off that you needed to take, and your credit card called you to let you know that your airline mileage points had doubled. It was as if everything in the universe had aligned so that you could make it back to your family. 

You’d told the boys over dinner one night, and they celebrated with you, happy for you to be able to finally live your dream. Then, Price had grabbed your phone, reading the email and going over the fine print. 

It grated on you, but you needed to learn how to pick your battles in this house. So, you waited for his approval, tight-lipped. 

“Double miles… ah, there’s a catch,” his voice rumbled in his chest, low and even. 

“What catch?” You panicked. Nothing could upset this perfect balance you’d achieved.

He pointed down to the conditions, and you read it for yourself as he told you,

“Says here they granted double miles for two tickets purchased.”

“Two? Who the fuck am I going to get to come to Saskatoon in December?” You sighed, head in your hands, trying to figure out how you were going to make it work.

“Well, the boys are heading up to check on MacTavish’s mum, but Kate’s got me on a leash. I can ask her to make me remote on this project, if you want.”

His tone wasn’t sly. It didn’t sound like he was hiding something. If anything, he sounded earnest, and it was such a kind gesture of friendship that he would be willing to join you in order to help you see your folks. 

But, that’s what wormed its way under your skin. You knew it was him. You just couldn’t prove it. Months of God knows what kind of backdoor, black-market dealing and manipulation, all orchestrated just to…

Just to what? Make you happy?

Inwardly, you struggled against your bindings, the invisible ropes he’d so carefully weaved just to have you come to him of your own free will, bent on your hands and knees, obedient and eager for your reward.

“Jonathan…” You started to resist, to rebel. Every time you started your sentence, you were stopped in your tracks by the cold, hard truth: He didn’t force you to do anything. You’d done it all of your own free will. 

That was how it had started. But, holy fuck had it escalated. 

Price was the perfect gentleman on your flight over, mysteriously charming his way into business class seats. He downloaded some of your favorite movies onto his iPad, even though you didn’t remember ever telling him that they were your favorites. He even snuck his way back to the flight attendants’ galley, laughing and joking with them, procuring you two extra desserts from the carts since you were such a fan. 

Then, he met your family, and he fit in perfectly. It was as if he was the missing member, a long lost kin, just waiting to be reunited into the fold. Your mother couldn’t figure out what had you so bothered. 

“About time you brought a good one home. Even your Uncle Billy likes him, and Billy —”

You rolled your eyes, 

“And Billy doesn’t like anyone, I know. I know.”

“Honey,” your mother looked at you with a sternness that she didn’t often muster, peering at you over her rose-rimmed glasses, “Why can’t you just let someone take care of you for a change? He’s a good man.”

A good man. 

John Price was a killer. No, he was worse. He was a CIA-funded, black ops, government-overthrowing war machine, capable of literal atrocities. You hadn’t heard much, but you’d heard enough. If any of these people knew how quickly he could turn a crowded room into an empty one, none of them would be looking so fondly at the way he snuggled with the dog or complimented your dad’s knife collection. 

But, that wasn’t why you protested, was it? If you were really being honest with yourself, the reason why you were so against letting Jonathan War Machine Price run your life was that it was yours to run. You didn’t need anyone’s help.

You didn’t need it.  

You could handle things on your own. 

You liked being able to spread your wings, fly your own path…

You were nobody’s puppet.

But, you were starting to like the way he was pulling your strings. When he would take the pressure of choice away from you, after you’d already been making a million other decisions at the end of a long day, it eased something inside of you in a way that nothing else could. It was like he was using those huge, rough palms to massage the hurt out of your head, to show you that it didn’t need to be such a battle, you didn’t need to keep fighting. He would do the fighting for you, and he was determined to show you that he was good at it. 

Even now, as you stomped through the rain, you knew what you were running from. You told yourself you were avoiding John, that you wouldn’t let him see you struggling to hold yourself together. After a much needed switch into a different position at work, the stress of your own expectations weighed heavy on you. But, you wanted them to. You wanted to know that you could still make it alone. You didn’t need John Price. 

But, you’re wearing the slicker he bought for you when yours got left in a cab.

So?

But, you smell like oud, saffron, and bergamot; the perfume oils he found for you at that local boutique you love. The same one he always compliments when he smells you wearing it. 

So?

But, you’re tired and wet and cold, and all you want is for him to tell you what you want.

So?! 

The soft, amber glow of a cigar stopped you in your tracks. A man was sitting on your bus stop bench, his arm slung over the back of the seat, his legs spread wide, taking up as much space as he liked. He was smoking slowly, enjoying every breath, savoring the flavors. Flavors you knew all too well: vanilla, licorice, sweet cedar, and whiskey. 

His sharp, blue eyes only met yours when you let out a labored sigh.

“What are you doing here, John?”

He took another drag, letting the ashes smolder, their warm glow making him look more and more like the Devil, a fallen man bathed in the light of a fire he lit all by himself. And damn proud of the blaze, too. 

“Just waitin’ for my ride,” he smiled in the way that a cat must smile at a mouse under its paw, “Do you wanna sit down, sweetheart?”

“No! I don’t wanna sit down,” you threw up your hands, “I want you to stop meddling in my life. You’re not allowed to keep making me feel like… like I need someone… some — Like I need someone’s fucking help. I don’t need anyone but me.”

His tone shifted in a sudden heat, like a flash in the pan, unexpected,

“Do you think I have any bloody help?”

Price let the question sink in before standing in front of you, his gaze never leaving your eyes. His voice was soft and gravelly, thick with smoke, and yet each and every word cut into you as sharp as a blade,

“Do you think anyone comes to help me when I’m deep in some bullshit, fuckin’ around in Rammaza? Just me, is it? By myself?”

“I don’t… no, I don’t know…” You hated how small your voice sounded in this tiny bus stop hut, the pounding rain drowning out your words. 

John looked at you as if he was waiting on you to find another answer, and then his face softened. He flung the cigar onto the pavement and crushed it out under his boot, smashing the tobacco into the cement without mercy. The object of his affection, once consumed, now snuffed out under his own power. 

His hands wrapped around your shoulders, caging you in, warm and safe from the wind blocked by his broad back. He sighed, his mouth drawing a tight line across his face, 

“Of course I need fuckin’ help. I have my men, and they have me. And I keep you here,” he jammed a finger hard into his chest, “Deep inside me, remindin’ me what I need to come home to. I’m not… meddling in your life, love. I’m trying to put you in mine. I thought…” 

He pulled away, sitting back down, looking up at you with a unique look on his face, 

“I thought that’s what you wanted. If I’m wrong,” he let out a dark, bitter chuff, “You need to tell me right now. ‘Cause all my plans have you in them.”

The rain made the plexiglass roof sound like it was shattering, over and over, the concussive slam of the storm created an oppressive din. He was waiting there, looking at you, asking for your next move. What was your plan?

“Am I wrong, sweetheart?”

You waited, trying to see how many steps ahead he was in front of you. If you said yes, if you said no; what decisions had already been made for you? Did he know what you were going to say before you did? And the real question: Why were you fighting so hard against something you wanted so badly?

You shook your head back and forth, just enough for him to see. HIs eyes lit up with hope and energy, a renewed flame.

“Then, come home with me. Quit bein’ so bloody hard on yourself. Let’s get you dry, love. C’mon.”

So, you obeyed. 

Nothing was more humbling than climbing into a squat little sports car when you were drenched to the bone. You curled yourself right into his cage, feeling silly for ever wanting to escape from it. Why were you pulling so hard against such soft reins? Couldn’t you see that he wanted to take care of you? To remove all of your barriers, to clear your path? You would be more powerful under his wing, soaring far beyond what you were capable of on your own. Why deny yourself a bite of the apple? It was ripe, the snake had promised, and sweet. 

He helped you up the stairs to your flat, walking you past his men as they gathered together in the kitchen, speechless, for once. None of them dared question their captain’s choices, and he had chosen you. More than that, it was clear that you had chosen him. 

Once you were in his room, behind a locked door, he held up a hand and stopped you in the entryway, shivering and dripping by the door. 

“Wait here.”

You waited. 

You waited some more. 

Just when you thought you would turn around and take yourself to bed, he returned dressed in a dry tee and a pair of running shorts. He carried two large, fluffy towels, and his face was set into a serious mask. All business. 

“Take off your clothes.”

You hesitated, looking at him to make sure you heard him correctly. 

He met your gaze, standing so close to you that you could feel his breath against your cheek. His chest was inches from your face, and you had to look up in order to meet his eyes.

“Take.”

He grabbed your phone out of your hand and dropped it on his entry table.

“Off.”

He rucked the jacket off of your back, peeling it down your arms and letting it fall to the ground with a wet slap.

“Your.” 

His fingers pulled the tie out of your ruined braid, letting the elastic roll onto his wrist. 

“Clothes.”

His hands went back to his side. It was up to you to do the rest. He wasn’t here to do everything for you. You were not his plaything. You had to choose to obey him. He wanted to watch you choose to follow his orders, not because you needed to, but because you wanted to.

Slowly, and a bit unsure, you began to shed your layers. You started with your shirt, almost knocking into him with your elbows since he was towering over you, standing in your space. Then, you writhed out of your jeans, peeling them off of your legs, kicking away your shoes in the process, stepping gingerly out of your socks, needing to hold onto his thick trunk for balance. 

Now, in just your bra and panties, you waited, hoping he’d hand you a towel. 

“What did I say?” He asked in a hushed tone, the timbre containing just enough warning to make your cheeks hot. 

“No, John. The boys are here in the kitchen!” You protested, whispering in a low hiss. 

This was beyond what you expected from him. You’d been keeping him at arm’s length, despite his constant pressure to be in your life. Sure, there had been moments of weakness. You’d shared a kiss, and you had let his hands wander when you watched a movie together on the sofa last weekend, but that was as far as things had gone. Stripping naked in the bright light of his apartment suite was something else entirely. Not to mention what sort of noises would seep out under his doorway if things got out of hand. 

“Stop,” he grabbed you by your face with both hands, making you look at him, “Stop fighting me. I am in this. All the way. The only time I wanna hear you tell me no is when you really mean it. If you say stop, I will immediately stop. Do I make myself clear?”

You nodded. He released you and put his hands on his hips, impatient. 

So, you slid out of your bra, slowly letting the cups pull away from your breasts, the lace cold and damp on your skin as it joined your outfit on the floor. As you rolled your panties off of your hips, stepping out of them and shoving them under your jacket with your toe, you felt more than just naked. You felt vulnerable and a little scared. 

What would he say? What did he plan to do? You realized, with a chilly shudder, that you didn’t even know his personal preferences. He’d never even given you a cursory glance into his mind, and reading his thoughts was impossible with that serious poker face. Most men wore their thoughts right across their eyes, or some (like Soap) even muttered them aloud, unconcerned about any judgment or scrutiny. If a man wanted you, you’d know. They were an open book. 

But the captain was very hard to read. 

Suddenly, as you stood back up, warring with your own mind, you were surrounded in fuzzy, comforting warmth. He was drying you off, wiping your arms and legs with reverent care, squeezing the rain out of your hair, using the corner of the cloth to wipe your face, holding you in his arms when you felt weak, off-balance, exhausted. 

It seemed as if the more you relaxed into him, the more power you gave up, the more it began to stoke his fire. While you became soft and pliant, he shifted into a fierce protector, covering you with his hands, bracing you with his heavy bones.

Price wrapped your hair into a high bun with an unexpected level of skill, and he carefully stretched your hair tie around it. When he turned to face you, you caught him staring at your body, raking his eyes over your breasts and studying the curve of your mons. It was as if he was groping you with his eyes, and each swipe of his gaze felt like a lick from his warm tongue. It was enough of an invasion that you wanted to put your hands in front of yourself, to hide out of some sort of shame.  

But when you made a move to cover yourself, the look in his eyes was enough to make you stand with your hands at your sides, allowing yourself to be on full display for him and that ravenous glare. He hadn’t even needed to chastise you. His mere desire was enough of a correction. 

Then, almost like a reward, he wrapped the towel around you, letting you hold it tight to your chest. 

“Tell me what’s goin’ on inside that pretty head,” he commanded you, his voice quiet but firm. It was just a simple question, but you knew it was loaded. So, you brushed him off, tossing out cheap bait, wrapping the towel a little tighter around yourself, hoping he’d drop it. You shrugged,

“Just cold.”

His jaw set with a click, and that soft purr became a warning growl,

“That’s one,” he held up his finger, “The next lie will cost you that towel, pretty girl.”

You stared at him blankly, trying to find a way through this labyrinth he had — apparently — custom built for you, sending you down twists and turns and dead ends as if he knew exactly how you’d try to steal back some control. But every way out seemed like a worse fate than simply allowing yourself to trust him. Nevertheless, you tried again. 

“I am cold, and I’m tired. It’s been a long day, John,” you sighed, shifting towards him, trying your best to take back the lead to his strange dance, “C’mon, don’t you wanna take me to bed?”

You reached out a hand and snaked it under the hem of his shirt, exploring untouched skin, letting your nails scrape through a dark patch of thick hair, right above his waistband. Your fingers got as far as his navel before he snapped. 

The cold absence of him ripping the towel away from you felt worse than you expected it to. In fact, you hadn’t actually taken him seriously. You protested, indignant,

“Hey! What —-“

“You think this is the same game you’ve always played,” he snarled, throwing the towel away and shoving you to your knees, his hold crushing and cruel on the nape of your neck, “You think, because those lads will eat any scraps you throw to them,” he nodded behind you, gesturing toward his men only a thin wall away, “That I’ll be satisfied with a taste, hm?”

His tone was mocking, and there was an undercurrent of darkness that lingered between each word like a warning, like the red of a poisonous berry that shouldn’t be picked and yet sagged ripe and ready on its stem. 

“You always get your way with them, don’cha? You know that a bit of skin and a little attention will keep them on you for days. And they reward you for it. They text you at all hours of the fuckin’ night, beggin’ you for just one more look, one more bite,” his mouth was right next to your ear, bending over you, casting his shadows across your face, and all you could do was kneel there, fully under his control, unable to move against his immense strength, “But, that’s not what I want.”

Your eyes dared to slant over to the growing monster that pressed its warm body against his shorts, hanging heavy and stretching the fabric, and you dared to hiss at him, even in your compromised position, using his title like a knife, aiming to scrape him with it,

“Seems like you do, Captain.”

He smirked, you could feel his smile against the sensitive skin of your earlobe, and you could see his almost infernal expression out of the corner of your eye. Even though you were trying to get under his skin, it made you feel like you were playing right into his hand yet again, helpless to his will. 

He stood up, never letting go of his grip on your neck, pinching the muscle like you were a caught rabbit, his writhing prey. Then, with a force that made your stomach drop, Price shoved your cheek into the crotch of his shorts, bringing you face to face with the outline his swelling shaft. Your nose was buried in the fabric, and you could smell the soap of his detergent as well as the musk of his sex that throbbed underneath. 

Then, he rucked down his waistband to show himself to you, pressing his length along your cheek, the softness of his skin surprising you just as much as the size of his thick, hefty prick. 

He held your neck in one hand and his cock in the other as he began to stroke himself up and down, letting your temple  and cheekbone feel the slip of his velvet foreskin. You could hear soft, wet clicking sounds as he coated himself in his own fluid, using the clear, dripping pearls as lube. 

You tried to move your jaw to taste him, eager to know if the heady, intoxicating smell of his skin matched his precome, hungry for his reaction to your mouth. But he stopped you, tightening his grip and scolding you like a naughty pet,

“My body wants your body, love. I’ll admit that,” he chuckled, not halting his lurid, jerking pulls, using your cheek for friction, “But I want more. I don’t want a taste. Or a bite. I won’t be satisfied.”

He frowned a bit, shrugging off his confession before he continued, 

“I want you to trust me. Trust that I’ll be here for you, that I’ll always be here. So,” he tugged on your flesh, forcing you to meet his fiery gaze, “Tell me what you thought.”

What were you supposed to say? That you were insecure about your looks? That you weren’t sure if he’d approve? That you were either too much or not enough and you weren’t sure which?

You turned your mouth as much as you could, trying to at least lick along the warm underbelly of his rod, aching to taste him, but he jerked you back into place, laughing at the disappointment on your face,

“Lips to yourself, love. Only good girls get fed.”

You rolled your eyes up to him, and you knew you had to make a choice. He was joking, but it was a façade. He was using it like a shield, waiting to see if you would actually relinquish your control or if you’d cut and run like you did with everyone else. 

So, you decided to trust him, giving him what he wanted, a full confessional on burning, bent knees, eyes cast up at your new master, praying for his communion, your tongue eager for his body and his blood and his love.

You made sure his eyes were locked on yours as you spoke softly, unflinching in your resolve,

“I was worried you wouldn’t like what you saw. I needed you to want me. I was afraid.”

The relief that washed over him was nearly palpable. His whole body responded to your admission, all of that tightly-wound uncertainty melting away in the heat of your submission to him. 

“That’s it. Good,” his voice was heavy with his relief, and he almost seemed like he was slipping into a trance, rubbing himself in steady, long strokes, shuddering against your cheek, “And what now, hm? You want me to let you go? Let you free? Or are you gonna let me in?”

You didn’t break your eye contact with him, but you wavered, sure of your decision but overwhelmed when you had to say it out loud. You squeezed your thighs together, feeling the slick mess he was forging between them, trying to find some comfort. You took a breath and told him,

“I’ll let you in, John.”

His throat held back a long, low groan, the pleasure of your surrender or the pleasure of his hand forcing it from his chest. You weren’t sure which. 

His grip loosened on your neck, but he didn’t let go. His voice was barely above a whisper as he told you his rules in hushed, broken phrases, holding himself back from the edge,

“You belong to me, now, sweetheart. You might be in charge at your bloody job, but everything else is mine. Do you hear me?”

You were going to answer him, you’d even planned to tack on a cheeky little yes, sir, just to show him you were playing along, but he had other plans. Always a step ahead. Before you could even breathe to speak, he pressed the tender head of his cock between your lips and deep into the warm hollow of your mouth, his wide form forcing your jaw to fall open to let him inside of you. It shocked you to be taken that way, not roughly but so certainly, with such surety, as if there was no other choice but for him to take you. You shifted, but with his knuckles tight against the base of your skull, you couldn’t retreat. Other than lolling your tongue along the body of his shaft, or swallowing against its drooling tip, you were powerless. 

His face twisted into a hungry sort of smear full of teeth and lips, grimacing at the feeling of being surrounded by you. Every inch that he drove himself deeper, his breathing would halt until at last, as he buried himself into your clenching throat, his lungs had emptied, and he was sighing with a ragged, guttural cry. 

“When you’re with me…” He continued his dark promises to you, the words choppy and broken, only threaded loosely together between panting gasps, “Even when I’m a fuckin’ world away, I promise that I will take care of you,” he pet your cheek with the softest affection, admiring you like a work of art, “All of you. You will sleep when I say. You will eat when I say. You will come when I say,” he smiled a little more cruelly at that, watching your eyes widen. And, as you began to wish for air, planting your palms against his firm, muscular thighs, ready to push away, he looked down at you with a lurid satisfaction, “You will breathe when I say.”

You were choking. You could hear yourself in the quiet of his room, your throat gurgling, full of your own viscous drool, escaping where it could along the stretched line of your mouth, running down your chin and neck. You felt the flare of panic rise up within you, and you tried to pull away in earnest, writhing against his grip, trying to escape from him and failing, turning your body in shameful futility. 

Price bent his face toward you, folding himself to whisper his lustful words, making sure your eyes met his, pressing your nose into his soft pubic hair,

“You. Breathe. When. I. Say.”

He kept himself contorted like that, keeping his face low to watch your eyes, to witness your struggle, and you felt hot tears burn down your face, the effort overcoming you. But, you wanted to show him that you could obey. You wanted to trust him, to show him that you were willing to give him your freedom, knowing that only he was worthy of such a gift. So, you swallowed deeply, watching as it made his eyes flutter, and again, and again. Over and over, you closed your throat around his steel-hard length, choking when it became too much. 

Still, he kept you there. As brave as you’d been with partners in the past, even those moments were fully eclipsed by this one. You had never even thought that you might be capable of holding your breath for so long. 

You were sobbing wholeheartedly now, your eyes reflecting your desperation, tears pooling and spilling across your face. He was watching you cry, whispering breathless nothings, soft words of encouragement,

“I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. You’re so fuckin’ good. My good girl.”

Just as purple and blue spots began to obscure your vision, he pulled himself out of you in a terrible, wet departure, leaving you clutching his hips, sobbing into his belly, watching his hard cock pounding, swaying at full height, swollen with blood and eager for its finish. You could feel those same soft, dark hairs matting down as your tears soaked into them. He ran his fingers through your hair, keeping the fallen strands out of your face, still holding you at your nape, but just to comfort you. 

You imagined him letting go, and you felt… sad, somehow. He would have to release you at some point, but you were in such a submissive state, just the idea of him leaving you without his guiding hand was too much to bear. 

Your cries turned to a twisted kind of grief, and when he heard your tone change, he dropped to the floor with you, holding you to his chest, rocking you back and forth, shushing you and talking to you in a hushed voice,

“Shh, baby. Tell me to stop. Tell me…”

You grasped at him wildly, uncontrolled, holding onto whatever part of him you could, shaking your head,

“No, no. Don’t — don’t let me go. Please, I can’t… I need… I need you to touch me.”

You planted one of your hands across his, covering the one that gripped your neck, pressing it like a plaster, like it was keeping a wound healed, like it was a dam in front of your frothing, vengeful river; it was a lifeline and you were adrift. 

“Sweetheart,” he sighed, “I’m not gonna let you go. I’m right here. Shh. Shh. It’s alright. I’m here. C’mon. Come with me.”

He lifted you, helping you walk on sore, shaking legs, your nerves sparking across your skin. Then, with his hand still firmly planted against your neck, he led you like a shepherd with his lamb, marching you to his bedroom. As you approached the bedframe, your thighs hit the mattress, and Price guided you forward until your body lay flat against it. The duvet was cool and smooth against your belly and breasts, and you tucked your arms into yourself, looking for warmth. 

You felt John plant gentle kisses across your back, trailing them down your spine, and after the overstimulation you had just gone through, even his lightest touch was electric. 

Your tears had stopped, but still you panted, sniffling, trembling from the shock of his careful kisses, waiting for whatever would come next. 

You felt his hips press against your exposed ass cheeks, his shorts now missing, and all you could sense was his warm, furry skin. You sighed into it, happy for the connection. 

“Spread your legs,” he commanded.

You complied immediately, all of your tortured resistance gone from you now, ready to trust him to take care of you. 

The unknown was what made your belly swarm with butterflies, and as you waited for his next move, your mind raced with possibilities. 

Would he be cruel? Would he punish you for your lying when he had first taken you in? His hand might strike your tender flesh, slapping your ass and leaving red, angry marks. 

Would he be lustful? Your mind fed you imaginary moments where he would press his cock into your pussy, skipping any foreplay, simply using you like his warm, wet toy. You thought that he wanted more, something more intimate, but if not, you would let him. You were his to use. At this point, you were so pliant, so open to his will, he could use you over and over and you would take him. It was a dark confidence you had never known until now. 

Perhaps he would simply stop. Maybe he perceived you as weak, as if you couldn’t take what he wanted to give you. He would simply comfort you, pitying you for your wrecked state. It was this thought that turned your stomach. Surely, he knew you better than that. John Price was not the pitying type. 

As the base of his cock lay nestled in the cleft of your ass, still as hard as a stone, his long shaft was shoved up against his lower abdomen, pulsing with unslaked desire. Then, as he settled himself, pleased with your spread display, John began to slip the very tips of his fingers into your pussy. He was just feeling your softness, plucking at your petals, laying them open with his hand, using your own wetness to paint your lips and the tight muscle of your hole, preparing you for more. 

His voice broke the trance that his touch had put you in, 

“It kills me when I have watch you putting yourself through hell. You are so strong, but you deserve to have everything you want. Everything you need, I’ll make sure you have it. I promise.”

He was so sincere, and his voice sounded so sure. It was like he was sharing an old memory, something he knew by heart. 

“John, please…” You whispered, feeling yourself slipping, slowly becoming untangled by his touch. You needed more, but you had no words. You could barely concentrate, and your mind was swimming in a liminal space, trapped in a loop of mounting bliss. 

“What do you need, sweetheart? Tell me.”

“I don’t know,” you felt your tears return, and although you were desperate for something, you couldn’t find the answer. 

“Shh, shh, shh. You’re alright,” John rubbed your back with his free hand, smoothing your skin with his warm touch, “Does my pretty girl need to come?”

You nodded, daring to glance over your shoulder at him as he worked on you, his finger now sinking deeper into you, gently prodding your walls in long, aching circles. His other fingers were cradling your folds, slipping between them with each undulating thrust, brushing beside the swelling body of your clit and making you throb with need. 

He felt it, and you saw a warm smile spread across his face,

“I can feel you needin’ me. So wet for me. Fightin’ me so bloody hard. Thought I’d be wantin’ you forever. Do you know how many nights I’ve dreamed of havin’ you under me like this? Fuck, I need you so badly, baby.”

You felt his grip tighten on your neck again as he pressed you deeper into the soft mattress, his prying hand picking up the pace. His thick finger finally slipped down to the knuckle of his fist. As he fucked you on his hand, you could hear your body’s slick as it softened for him, submitting to his power just as you had done, your body at peace with your mind. 

He pressed a second finger beside his first, twisting them together, curling the tips to rub you from the inside, making you feel the deep ache of your orgasm building within your belly. 

You tried to find more friction, rocking your hips against the bed, squeezing your legs together, needing more but completely helpless to his pace and pressure. 

Price stopped, pushing his fingers right into the tender flesh of your neck as a warning,

“Open,” he shoved your foot away, spreading them for you, “You keep fighting and fighting… fine. I’ll give you something to fight for, hm?”

You tried to twist your knees together again, but his legs stood apart, holding you open. Then, you felt his threat. He put the head of his heavy prick against your greedy hole, dipping it into your wetness like a seal into warm, melting wax.

“C’mon,” he squeezed your nape hard, once, just enough to get your attention, “You wanna drive? Fuckin’ drive, love. You think you can fuck yourself better than I can fuck you? Prove it.”

You narrowed your eyes, glaring at him, watching the muscles ripple and pop in his forearm that held you down, unwilling to give you full control, and yet allowing you to set the pace. You saw his other hand rub the curve of your hip, dropping lower to grope your ass, egging you on. 

Unwilling to beg, you thrust yourself down onto his shaft, gasping from his girth, only managing to fit half of him inside of you, physically unable to go any deeper on your own. But, you tried again, lifting away, sinking back, repeating your movements and reaching between your legs to rub your clit as you fucked him.

But, it wasn’t enough. You felt so close to the edge, and yet you couldn’t tumble over it, losing your rhythm, chasing it down, too weak to reach the peak you knew was right within your grasp. 

You grunted in frustration, and his cruel laugh made you turn back towards him again. 

He shrugged,

“I thought you wanted to be in charge. Does it feel good, sweetheart?”

“Fuck!” You gasped, trying to catch your pleasure and feeling it slip from you yet again, humping your hips against the bed shameless and desperate. 

“Tch,” Price gripped the inside of your ass cheek, shaking it and rolling your soft flesh in his hand, “Too bad, love. I wanted to give it to you. Shame, really.”

“John! Please,” you caved, sobbing out a short moan, begging him impatiently. 

“Please, what?” His question came just as he decided to press himself deeper into your body than you had been able to go, sinking into you like a hand into a glove, a tight, all-encompassing fit. 

You whined, rolling your fingers over your clit faster, feverish, ready for relief, 

“Please make me come.”

“You will come…” He stretched you, giving you no warning, the sharp feeling of his invasion making you catch your breath, “When I bloody tell you to.”

Then, as if to prove it to you, he stuffed his length into your pussy, never pulling back very far, choosing instead to massage you with his cock, using his base to stretch you wide before rolling away. The sensation overwhelmed you, and his size made your mind go blank. Any words that formed in your mind turned to whining cries of pleasure on your tongue.

There were no sounds of lewd pounding of flesh on flesh. All of Price’s work was deep and wet, churning inside of you like a volcanic sea, hot and untamed. He, however, made plenty of noise, praising you in every way he knew how, speaking in half-clipped phrases, losing his sentence to a groan of relief as he fed himself to you, filling your pussy like a hungry mouth. 

You felt yourself getting closer by the moment. Each grinding thrust was pushing you ever nearer to that gleaming, crackling fuse. He had lifted you, unintentionally, unable to understand the effect of his strength, and your toes could barely scrape the floor. You could feel your sacral core clenching around him like a delicate vice, grabbing for his cock, trying to hold him within your belly, some twisting grip of nature used to ensure that his creamy come ended up where it belonged, soaking into your womb.

Your clenching made him pause, which, in turn, caused you to cry out to him, wordlessly babbling, begging for him to return, to keep his pace. 

“Don’t you dare, sweetheart. Don’t you dare come,” his voice was like rattling brimstone, smoky and burning within his throat. 

“Please…” You whispered, unable to lift your raspy, keening voice. 

With shallow, teasing thrusts, Price used his cockhead to softly pop in and out of your soaked hole, swollen from being well-fucked. Just hearing a vibrator would have sent you over the edge at that point, and you fought him, trying to get any sort of power at all, rolling your body like a caught snake. 

“Stop,” he said curtly, “Stop fighting. Be still.”

You quieted yourself down, breathing heavy, sweating into his sheets, shivering like you had a fever, burning up from the inside out. 

For the first time, you felt his hand leave your neck, and his fingers twisted themselves into your hair at the base of your skull. Slowly, carefully, he lifted you by your head, forcing your back into a vicious arch, letting your breasts hang freely, your arms trying to balance you, mostly worthless since Price had full control of your torso in this position. 

His free hand slid around your front, groping you wildly, plucking your nipples and filling his palms with the meat of your breast. Then, he replaced your fingers with his own, pressing beside your sensitive clit, rolling it softly in long, firm strokes. 

You heard yourself make a new sound, one you’d never made, an animal’s grunting, something reckless and feral. 

Then, Price took up his stretching rhythm again, fully in charge of everything you were sensing. To you, he may as well have been in control of your mind. It was no use to you; you were at his mercy and it was everything you’d ever wanted. 

“Do you trust me?”

Your thoughts swam, unable to even consider anything but the truth, and amongst all of your vocalized ecstasy, you managed to reply,

“Yes.”

“Don’t come. Keep it. Just like that.”

“J-John!”

“Wait, wait, wait… good girl. Good.”

“Ohhh, fuck…”

His next words seemed barely human, snarled at you through bared teeth,

“Now. Come for me. Come f— fuck! Holy fuck.”

When you felt him spill into you, you had almost no control left over your own orgasm. Your heart felt like it had leapt into your throat, and all you could experience was your shining, explosive finish. You heard no sound, and your eyes went white, rolling back into your head. You couldn’t breathe, or scream, and if it wasn’t for John’s immense body holding you tight, you would have crashed into his bed, all used up.

His orgasm was as long as yours was, and he finished in slow, fearsome thrusts, burying his head into you as deep as he could reach, smearing your lips with your mixed fluids, caring nothing for the mess. 

“C’mere, love. Come to me,” Price held you to his chest, finally pulling himself from you, holding you as close as he could, laying beside you in a sweaty, spent tangle of arms and legs. 

You lay your head on his chest, catching your breath, only to tumble into a dreamless sleep with him, your body exhausted from your effort. 

When you woke up the next day, you could feel him all over you. He had left you alone in the bed, and yet your skin and bones kept his imprints. You could feel the ghost of his fingertips on your neck, and you were sore in places you weren’t sure how you could be. Everything was a wet mess, and just when you worried about how you’d cross the apartment without yesterday’s outfit, you saw that John had left you a note. 

Training day on base. I'll be back tonight. Dinner on me. Wear this. xx

Under the note, Price had laid out his favorite dress of yours, a blue satin slip of a thing, and (with the tags still on) you found a matching lace set of bra and panties in the same pretty color, just your size. You couldn’t see the price, but when you searched for the brand online, you couldn’t help but blush. He'd spent more than just a pretty penny on this outfit. You couldn't help but notice that the delicate lace would show through the thin fabric of the dress, making little raised ridges where your nipples would be.

Whatever you’d just agreed to when you said you’d let John Price into your life was about to get very, very interesting. 

AO3 Link

[catgirlstalin]

Hi! I hope it's okay to ask this but would you happen to know any books on Stalin that don't repeat the same old stuff about him being a bloodthirsty dictator etc.? I wish to learn from more nuanced and anti-anticommunist sources since I'm learning about communism and ussr rn, and you seem to be someone who might know about these! Thanks if you're able to answer!

hii of course im happy to recommend stuff :3 mutuals feels free to add stuff as well

Another View of Stalin. Ludo Martens (1994) – one of my go to recommendations, it goes into the most commonly brought up issues such as collectivization, the great purge, and the molotov-ribbentrop pact

Stalin: History and Critique of a Black Legend. Dominico Losurdo (2008) – another go to; in addition to addressing historical facts and myths, this one also criticizes the concept of 'totalitarianism', and the resulting conflation of fascism with communism as equally bad (something that is still done to this day, see 'horseshoe theory')

those two i would say are the most prominent books specifically about him, and for good reason as they cover the most important myths about stalin

another author ive had recommended to me who has multiple books about stalin and the ussr is grover furr, but i havent read any of his works yet

also while this one isnt specifically about stalin as a person, i also wanna throw in The Soviets Expected it by Anna Louise Strong. It was published in 1942 and covers the years leading up to and including the second world war. its not really an analysis, as anna louise strong was not a historian, but a reporter who lived in the ussr at the time and she reported a lot on the living conditions and experiences of the people which provides a really interesting view into the 1930s and early 1940s in the ussr. its also a rather short and easy read

then theres of course also first hand accounts from people who knew him, like Molotov Remembers (done in a sort of interview style, the author is anti-stalin but molotovs accounts are interesting nonetheless), or Next to Stalin: Notes of a Bodyguard (also very short, not particularly well written but interesting and at times also entertaining)

also in my opinion one thing that also provides some insight into how stalin was and how he thought is just to read his own works. theres a whole collection on marxists.org

i find his interviews fairly interesting to get a bit of insight into his thinking, and theyre very short and easy to read

Interview with H.G. Wells Interview with Emil Ludwig Interview with Roy Howard

i hope some of this will be interesting to you!! have fun with your reading, theres a lot to learn and discover out there

[fadedtoneverland]

hello dear author, I could request a Hyunjin x male!reader who is a member of nct, reader is the brother of another famous idol and he often dresses in long dresses or long skirts, I hope I'm not asking too much of you, take care of yourself

“my muse” | h.hj

❤︎ synopsis — as an artistic man, hyunjin is drawn towards someone who embodies art in his own way

pairing: idol!hyunjin x idol!male!reader

theme: fluff ✿

a/n: first stray kids request! hyunjin is literally the most beautiful man i’ve ever laid my eyes on, and i adore him, so im glad he’s the first member from skz i get to write for !!

cw: none.

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i’d like to believe hyunjin likes to observe people on a deeper level

it’s just how he is. hyunjin is an artistic man. he sees the world beyond what the naked eye presents him, and that shows in how he treats and greets people

it’s a habit he’s had. he’ll meet someone, have a few nice conversations, and then he’ll go about thinking about their style, mannerisms and energy

he’s done it a lot in the kpop industry, being able to clock someone’s insecurities and thoughts just from a look alone

hyunjin never really questioned why he does it, in fact he himself is sometimes weirded out by his random hyper analytical behavior. but it allows himself to give a deeper insight on the people he surrounds himself with

so when sm entertainment announced a new member of nct dream, he was naturally curious.

nct was already known for their bold concept of many members, all split into different sub-units. hyunjin had personally met a few of the dreamies before

that’s when he saw you

hyunjin was immediately captured by your striking appearance. when you made your stage debut, you were draped in the most gorgeous silks and fabrics, accompanied with sparkling diamonds that made you stand out. like a prince

maybe it was the skirt, or maybe it was the flashy stage presence, but hyunjin has never encountered someone so… bold. so confident to dominate the stage with such ease, like you were made for it.

later on, hyunjin learned from jisung that you were the brother of famous tvxq member, kim jaejoong. hyunjin could see the resemblance. you definitely had his eyes… and his attitude.

it explained a lot, actually

hyunjin definitely wanted to get to know you more

and fate seemed to be on his side as he ran into you during an after party of the

the party was filled with all sorts of people tonight.

stray kids had a particularly good evening, having won a couple awards from the MAMA show this year, all thanks to their hard work and talent. as expected, the kpop sensation was invited to attend the after party at a private venue, hosted by a couple of the TV hosts themselves.

hyunjin was off to do his own thing, having separated himself from the group to get swept away in the fun party. pretty faces and model bodies were everywhere. hyunjin has seen them all, even recognized a few faces. it was expected to see many people like that, he worked in the idol industry after all.

beauty was key in a world like this

the black haired idol found himself leaning against one of the party tables, a glass of champagne cupped in his long fingers. he took a sip of the sugary liquor while scanning the crowd. the crowd was filled with all sort so celebrities, having the same shallow conversations. he’d catch sight of young women acting too humble for the sake of the camera, men too ashamed of their tan skin, so they hide it behind pale makeup, and the starry eyes of children who have yet to discover the darkness behind the industry.

it was all the same. nothing interesting caught his eyes. but then again, there’s almost no room for individuality when the standard is to just be an obedient, purse pup. almost everyone was in this room was just a pretty show dog, doing the ringmaster’s commands and tricks without question.

hyunjin sighed.

he was thinking too pessimistically for an event that’s supposed to be fun and exciting.

taking another quick swig of his golden alcohol, hyunjin set the glass down, deciding he’s had enough for tonight. as he looked around the crowd, he caught sight from the corner of his eye approaching him, and leaning against the party table next to him. neither of them made eye contact, but acknowledged one another silently.

“it’s rather lovely tonight, isn’t it?” your voice sounded on hyunjin’s right side. of course, pretty porcelain doll from nct dream had to greet him personally. not that hyunjin was offended by your presence, he was just.. taken aback.

“of course,” hyunjin agreed, not tearing his eyes away from the party crowd, “the venue is just lovely.”

“agreed.” you smiled. hyunjin took this opportunity to look at your face. god, even your smile was as perfect as your entire being.

everything about your demeanor was different. it was loud and proud, not afraid to show the world what you were made of. dressed in a clad, wine red dress shirt, accompanied with a matching maxi skirt, you stood out amongst the crowd of mannequins.

that alone intimidated hyunjin. he wasn’t used to such bravery in a dog-eat-dog world.

“congratulations on your win, by the way,” you said while clasping your hands together politely, offering your congratulations to your senior. “stray kids really knows how to steal the stage. i especially enjoyed the performance of thunderous.”

your voice was polite, but there was a hint of playfulness in those bright eyes. hyunjin took a moment to compose himself, before putting on his most charming smirk.

“thank you, y/n.” hyunjin thanked while bowing, showing the mutual respect he held for you. “but i can’t have you being flattering without your own achievements being acknowledged. seriously, your voice absolutely took me away. and your style? nothing like the industry has seen before. you’re pushing new boundaries for the fashion in kpop.”

hyunjin’s always meticulous with the compliments he gives, because it shows he cares. but he also just wanted to praise your expression of art through your style and attitude. it’s not everyday he gets to meet someone unique like this, and it seems the compliment he gave you earned a cute giggle from your pretty red lips.

adorable.

“you’re charming, hyunjin.” you said while covering your lips with your palm, pulling it away and letting your hand fall to your side.

“i get that a lot.” the idol said with a chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck.

“as you should,” you replied, a smirk making it’s way to your lips. “you’re seriously like a real life prince.”

hyunjin laughed. genuinely. not one of those quick, brief laughs he usually did to amuse people.

.. since when did he get so flirty and comfortable with an idol he just met?

the conversation flowed well. hyunjin really found a spark of chemistry between him and you. not only were you bold, but also engaging. the way you speak so beautifully and thoughtfully, it just drew hyunjin in further.

like a fly buzzing into a dazzling light.

“we should do this again, hyunjin.” you say with a smile, the corners of your eyes crinkling with the action.

“i quite enjoy your company.”

hyunjin smiles at this, leaning back against the table.

“what, like a date?” he teased.

you scoff and wave your hand at him. “if that’s what you want to call it.”

the space between you both is filled with giggles. as your laughter died down, you caught sight of jaemin flagging you over to the exit of the after party venue.

sighing solemnly, you give hyunjin one last smile, before turning around. “i’ll catch you later, hwang.”

hyunjin watched with curious eyes as you left, your skirt flowing with every step you took.

‘this boy is gonna kill me.’ hyunjin thought to himself.

he watched as you stepped out of the venue with the rest of the dreamies. you truly were a work of art, and hyunjin definitely believes there’s more he can add to the canvas. you’re beautiful just as you are, but with a splash of color, maybe he can just turn you into one of the most beautiful things the world has ever seen, and make them all fall in love with you all over again.

just as your brother did before.

his muse. his pretty little muse, that he’s just so intent on learning more about, and he won’t stop with just that amazing conversation you just had.

he’ll find you again.

hyunjin smiled. it was a smile of brilliance.

“i’ll catch you later, kim.”

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fadedtoneverland © 2024 | do not steal, modify or repost ANY of my work.

[fairyhaos]

seventeen as taylor swift songs

notes: guys. guys im not even a swiftie but ive listened to sooo many of her songs for this hc that i could literally Become one now if i wanted to

[this fic's spotify playlist]

masterlist

seungcheol

wildest dreams. it's kind of an incredibly, almost painfully romantic song. it's kind of a whirlwind romance song? while it's certainly a little hopeless, there's yearning there, and there's also so much vivid, vibrant love at the same time, a kind of possession, of protectiveness even so. it's seungcheol because of the desperate, helpless love it describes, a 'i couldn't help but fall for you' vibe that is so him.

jeonghan

style. the type of pretty boy x pretty girl energy this song exudes gives me delicate, gorgeous, jeonghan vibes. it's sweet, light, but it's also playful and so romantic that it makes your heart feel so full it might burst. it's something you can scream loudly, but also something you can hold close to your heart. the song is a silvery cream colour, reminding me of jeonghan

joshua

enchanted. i mean???? enchanted is The royal, romantic, sparkling, glittering song of all time. it's gentle and gentlemanly and yearning and hopeful and wonderful and so, so joshua coded it's actually insane. it's a type of strangers to friends to lovers that crescendos into a heart-melting happy ever after that takes your breath away. it's so joshua it makes me cry.

junhui

paper rings. it's so youthful, so bubbly, so young love in the way that only junhui can be the one to embody. it's sweet like junhui's smiles, endearing like junhui's laughs, bright and lovely like the way in which junhui would love with his entire heart. paper rings is so full of brightly orange coloured love, just like junhui is.

hoshi

22. this song talks about living your life to the fullest, no matter the age, for all time, as if every day is your last. it's about finding happiness in every situation, with the person you love the most in the entire world. it's a song that feels like bright, flashing lights, like warm drinks, like soft kisses. it feels like hoshi.

wonwoo

willow. the acoustic vibes of this song feel very wonwoo. there's a sort of undying, eternal love in the lyrics, an idea of always coming back to him, of forever finding endless comfort and wonder and new experiences while loving him. there's a certain domesticity to this song, and honestly the best way to describe it really is eternal love, constant love, comfortable and thrilling and warm all at once.

woozi

jump then fall. honestly, it took me a while to find one for woozi, but then i discovered this song and it fit him perfectly. it's devastatingly soft, so gentle and caring, just like woozi is. it doesn't have any sudden realisations of love, but rather a slow, soft kind of falling in love, an innate understanding of how one feels, and that is just so, so woozi to me.

minghao

all too well. the romantic, elegant, velvet feeling to this song embodies minghao very, very well. it's almost wistful in its love, like remembering a wonderful memory, like making sure that you remember the best times of your life without any animosity, any hatred. it's of real love, of cherishing, gentle and nostalgic and minghao all the way.

mingyu

daylight. it's a little youthful, hopeful, bright, like mingyu. the song just exudes so much "happy ever after" vibes, at the end of a perfect romantic novel, and that's so mingyu. it's the epilogue song, heart filled with warm love, his smiles as sweet and gentle as the chorus of the song. it's hopeful, optimistic, beautiful.

dokyeom

cruel summer. okay first of all—the high notes?? the pretty little voice tremble thingies?? it's so pretty dokyeom voice coded. but also, apart from that, it's such a sweet sounding song, young and happy and and hopeful and devastatingly him. it's yearning and endearing at the same time, full of every emotion in the world, just like he is.

seungkwan

shake it off. it's a citrusy brightly fun song, with lilac undertones and this is gonna sound really really weird but that instantly made me think of seungkwan. it's full of positivity, of bouncing back, of not giving up and and not caring what anyone else thinks. of being the life of the party, of making other people happy, and that is the most seungkwan thing in the whole world.

vernon

we are never ever getting back together. lyrics aside, there's a lot of feel-good energy in this song which feels so vernon. honestly lots of taylor's old songs feel like they can match him a lot, because there's so much young energy, feeling a little like a boundless puppy, and i don't know. the self-assurance, the brightness, the pure pop, light feeling is something that just fits vernon.

chan

red. perhaps an unexpected one, but hear me out, this one is so, so, chan-coded, i promise you. it's like an old love, a sad, wistful love. but a wistful love of a romance that was anything but that: of a romance that had been full of the scent of leather and love and living. that's what chan is, i think. red feels very, very much like loving chan.

request guidelines

reactions tags: @jeonginssa @magicaltonaru @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @turningcarat @zarara @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @summery-bat @newgirlygirl @moonlitskiiies @ejspencer14 @mirxzii @wonranghaeee @saythename-chess @yonabutnotyuna @youthoughtiwasfeelingyou @crackedpumpkin @wqnwoos @sunshinekyeom-sang @ocyeanicc @zozojella @thesmellofcoffeeandrain @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @icyminghao @nananacomeonnnn @valenhui @sweet-like-caramel @hansolaria @gam3bo1z @marisblogg @evasaysstuff @odxrilove @kyeomyun @chansburgah @pepperonijem @jeonride @kellesvt @butiluvu @hanniehaee @sakufilms @immabecreepin @astrozuya

[miso-sopas]

Hi so got any ninjago x reader recs? Ever since reading Wisps, it has affected my brain chemistry and now i crave for more ninjago x reader content but im picky when finding fics, so got any recommendations?

Hello there! I had fun sorting out my bookmarks and history so recommending fics might be a thing in the future?

Just to note, I am not sure how to really curate your taste so most of these are what I essentially enjoyed reading and been a fan of so forgive me if some (or all 😭 no hard feelings though) aren't your thing.

Let's see...

Honestly Wisps is the *best* so far in my opinion! I don't know if this is pure coincidental but I am also hunting for some ninjago fics to feel emotions again lmao! And I tried my best in remembering what I've read or interested in so hope these are all ok for you!

+ Second best in my opinion is the 'Infinity Series' by Joos according to their quotev because at ao3 it's orphaned [ao3; quotev book 1 & book 2 ]

Unfortunately, the author has stopped updating this fic but going back at it was really enjoyable like in the Wisps. The summary according to the first installment 'Infinite Serenity';

"[Name] has died and became reincarnated in a childhood TV show of hers. She is raised as the adopted daughter of Sensei Wu, training as the Master of Infinity. Once the plot of the show really gets going, a being resurfaces from her. They claim to have revived her and can help her unlock the memories from her previous life. Now, [Name] must rely on this being to help protect Ninjago, and discovers how her past connects with her present." TW: Suicide, self harm, child abuse, some gore and swearing (please pay attention to the tags)

Please please heed the trigger warning, I don't remember much from the content but I definitely recall the author tackling those tags in a respectful way. The love interests are Kai, Nya, Jay, Cole, Morro and platonic with Master Wu and her cousin Lloyd Garmadon. Again, second best recommended fic in my opinion.

+ Next one, this is not one series but user Circus4APsycho8 (they have ao3 and tumblr) in my opinion have the best x reader one-shots from the fandom! My all-time favorite work of theirs is 'Secret Someone' [Highschool AU! Lloyd Garmadon x reader]- this one is really sweet ❣️

Here's these links for their ao3 works and their tumblr ninjago masterlist. All simple yet sweet, I love their writing style.

+ The next one is purely Lloyd Garmadon x Female Reader titled 'Butterfly Effect' by samsea at ao3. I think they're still updating and I am a big fan of hero x civilian pairings and just they're cute and in love.

Summary: "If it was up to Y/n L/n, she would read the summer away, lost in history books and adventure novels, finding excitement in their written words. Meeting Lloyd Garmadon changed her plans. Suddenly, Y/n is living a life she'd only read about; summer romances and cotton candy dates. Perhaps this was a new normal she could get used to. But she's been fated - prophesied - to be with the Green Ninja. And where there's a green ninja, trouble usually follows." Warnings: "The butterfly effect has mature themes such as gore, violence, toxic friendships, sexual themes (no smut) and cussing. the butterfly effect is not intended for younger viewers. Trigger warnings will be placed on chapters as they are needed. if you have any questions or issues please contact me."

Again, heed the warnings but the writing and atmosphere overall is really sweet and for some reason all cuddly and sunny. IDK but maybe I am always soft for Lloyd lmao.

+ If you're up to reading only x reader head cannons then I recommend user mouschiwrites here in tumblr. Their requests are closed now but the head cannons they made are cute and entertaining, like I can definitely see this character doing that y'know. Here's their ninjago masterlist

+ Here's some honorable mentions, I believe they deserve some love too!

In the Shadow (Various love interests) by RoseRain at Quotev

Legend of the Lightspirit (Various love interests) by softie at Quotev

Actually, while finishing my school projects I'm also checking out from another user snazzilystoopid's ninjago recommendation. So far, I am enjoying their second recommended which is 'Element of Wishes' by yourfavoritecloud at quotev BUT this one is an Character x OC one so if it's not up to your alley they have few recommendations. Honestly, I am up to anything as long as it entertained my monkey brain.

Sorry for the long post! Hope these works are okay for your taste but the closest fic that gives off the same vibes as Wisps is the Infinite series. And these are all by my own opinions and the fics I remembered catching my eye. I am very much open to other recommendations or shout-outs.

Side note, there's not much Ninjago fics out there that I might let my monkey brain loose and create one myself LOOOL.

Again, thank you for asking ( I feel honored for being asked by this, I'm a fanfic nerd 🤓)

[bingoboingobongo]

cod characters alphabet: activities

Characters: Simon “Ghost” Riley, John “Soap” MacTavish, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, John Price, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra, Valeria Garza

Warnings: none

Prompt: Activities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with their s/o?

A/N: hehe new year new event i’m excitedd. also yes gaz’s ice cream choice is mine too don’t hate.

simon “ghost” riley:

alright so simon likes to spend what little free time he has doing something quiet and relaxing

he just needs a break from all the chaos and noise of wartime and so he’s not a big fan of going out or partying when he has spare time

i feel like at the beginning of your relationship he might take you out to dinner or on a date or something like that just because he feels like your relationship isn’t that strong yet

but once he gets really comfortable with you he’s much happier to spend his time indoors

simon usually will spend his free time reading or sewing (his masks get very dirty/broken very quickly so he needs to have a lot spare okay im sorry)

sometimes he might go outside on a walk/hike away from people so he can just catch a break

honestly when he’s alone he’ll like get into his chair, start whatever activity he’s doing, and then not leave until he’s done

like he will spend the entirety of his free time just sort of decompressing

again at first he was hesitant to let you in because it was sort of like his own self-care routine but he’s found that it’s much easier to take care of himself when you’re there

sometimes he’ll let you curl up on his lap while you nap/read a book/scroll on your phone, and sometimes you guys will sit together on the couch under a blanket

it’s very much a comfortable silence and honestly simon really prefers days like that than when you guys go out

john “soap” mactavish:

okie so soap is all about having new and fun experiences whenever he has free time

so much of his life is spent in the military and he wants to have a lot of fun memories that aren’t work related he can reminisce about when he’s old (or just while he’s bored at work)

whenever he has free time he’ll be spending it with you, even if you’re in the military with him

honestly he just wants to make sure he spends as much time as he can with you, that way if something does go wrong he won’t regret leaving you alone

he’ll take you out on all sort of fun dates and adventures

he loves taking you around town to try out all sorts of restaurants and bars

that being said he’s not a very harsh food critic and he’s mostly just going to try new foods so get ready for a lot of “christ this is so good try it” and “we have to come back here next time”

that being said, if you’re not up to going out or if the weather isn’t right or something, he’s more than happy to spend the day inside with you

he’ll try to cook something with you (the results may be questionable) but it’s okay because you guys spend most of the time laughing anyways

he’s also down to cuddle on the couch and binge a new tv show with you if that’s more your style

he won’t say this out loud (but it’s very obvious) but his favorite genre of tv is reality tv

he gets soo invested in all of the drama and he definitely eats up all of the overly dramatic videography and editing

kyle “gaz” garrick:

hmm so during his free time gaz really likes to listen to/discover new music

he’s got a really broad taste of music and so one of his favorite things to do when he has free time is go around to bars/clubs and just listen to the local bands

of course whenever he can he’ll go to concerts of his favorite artists but with expenses and his busy schedule those are pretty few and far between

he loves to take you with him on these little musical adventures though

many of your nights have been spent at crowded pubs listening to a band play while you guys talk about something dumb that makes you guys laugh

either that or having way too philosophical conversations that would probably be more suited to a university philosophy lecture than a pub with sticky tables and cheap beer

but gaz has had some of the best conversations of his life with you at those pubs so he doesn’t mind it

that being said, if you’re at that point in your relationship gaz really likes taking you to visit his family

he really loves his family, especially his younger siblings, and so whenever he has the chance he goes to visit them and check up on them

and it’s so much more fun when you come along

he’ll take you and the kids out for some ice cream at the old shop he used to frequent when he was a boy

he always gets lime sherbet and rocky road on a waffle cone whenever he goes

and do not yell at him because he swears that it is a good combination because you get sweet and you get sour and it’s not like the flavors even mix together that much so it’s fine

john price:

okay so price is a little bit like ghost in that he likes to spend his free time with just cuddling and sort of relaxing

usually with a crossword and a cup of tea, especially in the mornings

but when he has a little more free time he does really like going to see the arts

i’m talking theatre, dance, museums, concerts (but he tends to lean towards classical or jazz/blues, he just doesn’t understand rap/hip hop i’m sorry)

he’ll always take you with him if you’re down to go as well

and yes during christmas season he always takes you to see the nutcracker

that being said price isn’t really a fan of very many musicals

he feels like it’s kinda hard to understand what they’re saying during the songs and then he just has no idea what’s going on

afterwards he’ll take you out to a nice restaurant so you guys can talk about everything you saw

but if there’s nothing good around he’ll take you back home and make you a home-cooked meal

i feel like price definitely has two homes, a small house (or maybe apartment) in the city and then a cabin somewhere in the woods

what can i say the housing market was a lot different when price was buying his cabin

usually he’ll take you to his cabin during the winter, and then his city place is used for the rest of the year

alejandro vargas:

alright alejandro is a little older than soap and gaz and so his days of partying and going out are past him

i mean don’t get me wrong he can still throw a mean party but his body just doesn’t bounce back the way it used to

so like ghost and price he tends to spend his free time with you in a more reserved way

i think alejandro is probably a really good cook and so that comes into play a lot during his free time

whenever he’s home he’ll practically refuse to let you cook or order anything and insists that he can make it for you

he likes to spend his weekends testing out new recipes or making new foods that you can make when he’s gone

because he always drags you along to the kitchen with him and has you learn how to cook it with him

honestly he’s a teacher/leader at heart and so it’s almost like therapeutic to be teaching you how to cook and stuff

i mean it’s combining like three things he loves: cooking, teaching, and you

once he’s done making the food he’ll cozy up with you on the couch and turn on a show you’ve already watched while you eat, that way he can talk to you and ask you for feedback

honestly he’s a romantic and it shows when he spends his free time with you

he also really loves giving himself (and you) a little spa day a few days after he comes back from duty, just to really decompress and forget about all the stress of work

rodolfo “rudy” parra:

okay so honestly rudy doesn’t really have one thing that he loves doing during his free time

actually wait no he does it’s either building legos or watching other people build legos

that being said, he can’t always do that or sometimes it just gets boring and so really his favorite thing is just spending time with you

wherever you take him, he’ll follow

whether that’s shopping, doing chores, watching a movie, getting dinner

as long as he can look at your face, you could be telling him to jump off a cliff and he’d die happy

what can i say he’s absolutely smitten for you and he’s so like eager it’s amazing

that being said if neither of you have any plans he’ll beg you to stay in bed with him the whole day and you guys will just cuddle while you scroll on your phones or talk about random things

he likes to watch a lot of youtube and he’ll always point out little things he thinks are cool/funny for you to look at

and if you don’t understand it he’ll explain it all to you and why it’s interesting/relevant

honestly though, he really just likes cuddling or sleeping with you during his free time

he’s usually pretty exhausted or beat up whenever he comes home and so spending the day with his head on your chest just sounds like heaven to him

valeria garza:

alright let’s be real being a drug lord is no easy feat and so valeria doesn’t get as much free time as she would like

but when she does get time for herself she’s probably gonna be spending it on you instead

honestly i really see valeria as the kind of person to really spoil you

i mean being el sin nombre brings in a lot of cash so she certainly has the resources to do it

i think if she’s coming home to you, she’ll have to take a minute to decompress for a bit

even though she likes to be the provider in the relationship, she likes it when you hold her for a bit just when she gets home so she can let all her problems melt away

she wants to leave el sin nombre and all the cartels and drugs behind whenever she’s with you

even if you’re involved with it with her, she’d much rather keep that stuff out of her home life

once she’s rejuvenated though she’ll insist on taking you out

usually it’s shopping, dinner, a movie, a party, etc.

okay i’m gonna get into some like psychological stuff but like, i feel like being a woman in a male dominated field (the military and drugs), she feels like there’s sort of like a subconscious need for her to be more masculine, and so she does this by providing for you financially through gifts and stuff like that

but also when it’s all over and the drugs and the shopping and all of it is gone, valeria also just really likes cuddling with you

she’s a big fan of late night pillow talk because it’s a chance for her to release some steam/be vulnerable which she really can’t do during her day-to-day

[natsmagi]

tbh you should just sexualize your fem Tsumugi more. I'm talking full on fetish hentai style. Put her in the open boob sweater. Have her accidentally flash while leaning fowards. Have her slip and show pantsu. Full kink with no breaks. Please shut these anons up. People trying to police your creativity like it has some sort of reflection on your morals or beliefs. I also wish you would stop answering them? or at least tagging it as anon hate because it's so sad to keep seeing people be so mean to you over and over when most of us just want to enjoy your big brain takes and drawings. Maybe I'm getting parasocial bc I get so sad seeing people hate on your Tsumugi I love her she's just like me fr!!! All that matters is that you enjoy how you draw her and I hope you don't feel pressured to change your headcanons.

HWEISUHRUHKDHG I SHOULDDDDDDDDD I SHOULD UR RIGHT ive been too prudish as of late. need to be insane again. Tbh ive made some art that was made purely bc i am a freak and insane but i feel like its never the art people would expect it to be. And thats really funny to me. like my more explicit stuff is just drawn for fun But if uve ever looked at a drawing of mine and gone "this seems kind of freakish conceptually even though the execution isnt super weird" Well thats probably bc it actually is freakish. sorry. My suggestive art is usually just for the vibes tho i DID also like. yesterday?? discover a twt acc that will sometimes post various lingerie fits SO!! MAYBE ILL DRAW SOME SOON 💪💪

AND AUGHHH I KNOWWWW in the beginning i thought itd be worth replying to people bc i was like "well this is all kind of niche. im sure they have good intentions so we might aswell talk it out" But as things progress its been made clear thats doing me or anyone else no favors. i love having discussions, so i reply to most of my asks! but i do hope that ive made myself clear enough and that we can all just continue doing our own things im sorry to hear its made you sad though!!!!! rest assured its not something that demotivates me, nor is it something that makes me feel i need to change how i draw. i do what i do because i enjoy it! and i know others enjoy it too! i will never be able to appeal to everyone, and that has never been my goal. i like having fun with others though, which is why i enjoy hearing why others might think differently than me!

but yes! i already feel ive said my piece on the whole discourse thing by now and i hate walking in circles, so even if i get negative asks about it i likely wont answer unless i feel its warranted. but! if that does happen, ill be sure to tag it! you can mute "#discourse tag" ahead of time incase i ever end up using it

[journey-to-the-attic]

hello!!

i just finished reading chapter 50 of jtta and oh my gosh. i don’t even know where to start.

jtta is SUCH an amazing work of art that my words fall short.. it’s rlly the best fanfiction i have EVER read and i’m sure it’ll continue to be my Number One forever. your writing style is absolutely beautiful and your choice of words is IMMACULATE. the way you describe certain scenes truly baffles me everytime like,, there’s people out there who are really able to write like this?? they can magically plant a mental imagine w colors and all in my head from??? Words only??? u r so amazing omf

i also have to say that ur work has rlly helped me with expanding my own vocabulary — i had to look up a A LOT of words (though i’m sure i forgot them all by now..) but it was always so fun to learn new stuff!

your mind fascinates me sm bc?? when i was reading some scenes from jtta i rlly thought ‘man.. if i was the author i’d have no idea how to solve this..’ but u managed to surprise me every. single. time. u outdid urself each time and my jaw legit dropped at some scenes bc i could’ve NEVER EVER thought of that,,,

i only discovered jtta last summer bc i was looking for a platonic obey me ff (i can’t see the boys romantically to save my life 😔) and ur writing was rlly the best thing that ever happened to me.

i swear everytime i read another chapter i dived into this World bc ur writing is so????? Perfect??? i cant put it into words

idk how many times i repeated myself by now but i just wanna give u this BIG word of appreciation (even if im struggling w it LOL) for everything. your characterisation of all the characters was always SO on point and the pacing of the chapters always elevated the reading experience and and and i’m just so overwhelmed by the quality of your work 😭🫶

and when i found ur tumblr??? oh i was FLOORED. like. not only r u absolutely GIFTED at writing, ure also good at drawing???11!?1? the writer & illustrator combo is INSANEEEEE

jtta got me all wrapped up in this universe that whenever i went back to read other obey me work or play obey me itself, i got sad bc the newspaper club and ik weren’t there 😭

normally i’m sad about things ending, esp when i indulged in it over a course of time but with jtta all i felt was a warmth (oh and the tears…..) in my body, it rlly couldn’t have ended better!! jtta made me elict all sorts of emotions while reading and it was just such a wonderful experience!

i feel like i just want to say more to u and sing more praises for u and jtta but i’m just at a loss for words,, my mind is COMPLETELY blank :c

writing is definitely your superpower and i’m forever grateful that i found your work!!!!!! T__T <3 can’t wait to see more of your work in the future 🥹💝

i need you to know that i had to look away multiple times consecutively just to compose myself because aAAAggkj

from the bottom of my heart, thank you!! i don't know what else i can say, everything you've said means so much to me! messages like this make everything about creating so worth it, all i can do is thank you twice <33333

[itsdappleagain]

it is time for the crackle goes kiwi caper!

oh man. im so close to being caught up. hold on, stockholm, I'm coming and i WILL be on time (i hope)

thats auckland btw

notes under the cut as always

OH okay ive been saving a really old edit for this episode

you're welcome

oh opening thoughts on the episode. ummmmmm its good. i like it. only reason i would have to dislike it is i guess the sort of red crackle stuff from it but i dont hate red crackle on default so it stands as a good episode. i like the dancing and the stakes actually feel pretty high a lot of the time!

not player hacking into the russian government

ah, neal. neal the eel. he is indeed. an eel

also rhys darby is my favorite voice actor on the planet

also also autistic dr bellum real and true

YOU WILL TRY

YUHHH GET IT

neal loving puns 👍

the "coo" neal does after he escapes into the vent is the bane of my existence i hate it with a burning passion

i wonder if "project tripwire" is supposed to be an experiment left over from the cold war or something?

zack is enjoying his sandwich!

that lean over carmen's shoulder one hand on the desk one hand on his hip move shadowsan is doing is the most dad thing

top ten moments before disaster

GIRL THE 3/4 PROFILE IN CS STYLE DOESNT WORK STOP USING IT

i love that the vile harddrive is like. VILE google

CRISPY FRIED CARMEN

player: we need an electrician who knows their stuff so carmen doesnt get electrocuted to death!! the job they need done: wooo slidey thingies....ooooooo dont let it touch the line!! woooo!!

player in s1: we CANT let crackle get ANYWHERE near you he may be a SLEEPER AGENT or put you in DANGER player in s2: we cant 🥺 even bring him back to play for the good guys? 🥺🥺🥺

i guess thats probably because shadowsan confirmed that he doesnt have any memories or sleeper agent tendencies lmaoo

fun fact! graham's cafe does not in fact exist. it is a housing complex/ lookout

carmen could not have picked a more. i mean just what a cover story. obviously i get that its personal to her but imagine being an electrican and this lady who is even younger than you comes up to you and is like oh...yeah i run an international charity. for abandoned children how unaccomplished would you feel wheeze

i will never stop saying this but SAY GOODBYE OR SOMETHING PLEASE CARMEN

interesting that the "cuppa" he insists she has with him kind of sets off a shit ton of stuff for s4. if acme hadn't taken gray in they wouldnt have probably ever been able to help carmen get out of mind control, or it would have taken much longer. she wouldnt have been able to discover and destroy the robots. weird stuff

insert meme about people calling paper star tammy because of that one time she used that as a codename here. except its with player and peter

ALSO HEEY PLAYERS ACCENT FROM S1 PAID OFF...he was practicing...

where did they get that ballet which is perfectly synched up to the lights he needs to turn off

not bellum's ominous green lighting black shiny lab. so subtle

also you would think that the power station bellum draws ALL her power from would be better protected wouldnt you?

did they let crackle practice the "lights" because if they didnt- yikes that sucks and if they did- bellum's security mechanism just going haywire as he practices pjgkkjsghd

mm this scene is good

OH also. eternal bounce looping gif because mmgh that animation is good

that animation of gray adjusting the slides where he goes in like. an arc in reverse. good shit

carmen is so not normal about the electric fields i love her. i get you're supposed to be dancing but girlie just run and jump its ok

even more bouncy because i cant be stopped

I LOVE HOW BOUNCY SHE IS. LOST IN THE SAUCE (the sauce is tchaikovsky)

a nearly electrifying performance is the best way to tell your best friend you didnt just die in a really horrible way

honestly the quip about sheep is a pretty good one. neal is SO COOL his fight scenes are really fun. takes a lot of ingenuity for our mains to outdo him

also his score is SOOO COOL its like. its slithery idk how to explain it

HAHAHA SHE PROTECTED THE FACE AND HE WENT FOR HER LEGS

i love how she was just like "nah fuck this" and ran the other way

HIS "OUGH" WHEN SHE TRIES TO KICK HIM IN THE FACE DHGDJHGKD. WASNT EXPECTING THAT ONE I GUESS

she goes down really hard a couple times fighting him. you can hear after he mule kicks her against the wall that it hurt

carmen's signature move, the titty twister

that "slick" line has become a line i just repeat with the same inflection like five times a day wugewghdh

player's kiwi went a little irish there

why did he go out the back door looking for carmen if the rest of the "theater" was supposed to be the other way 😭

oh okay nevermind he's just. he just doesn't listen

gremlin bellum appreciation

gray is literally the luckiest motherfucker alive please

didnt carmen lock the door behind her also??? im so confused how did he get in

"carmen?" "sandiego" (clapping noise from the intro)

the little confused noise gray makes pls its so funny

also love how his first question is "what kind of concert hall is this" and not "why are we sprinting down a hallway"

THATS THE NIGHT THAT THE LIGHTS WENT OUT IN AUCKLAND (sick guitar) THATS THE NIGHT THAT THEY H wait a minute

so hot i love her

kill, my queen

WILHELM SCREAM!

i love the disgust and annoyance that immediately overtakes her face when neal shows up again

are we ever going to talk about how neal was trying to snap her neck or no

no? okay

it would have been really funny if that crackle rod was set to lethal

i love how she says "zackivy" as one cohesive unit

pls carmen looks so short next to cracker

sharon muthu is such a queen

love also how carmen is more concerned about gray recognizing the voice than bellum threatening to take out auckland. yes girl priorities

fantastic shot of her grinning and then getting all smirky about it. she's so hot. again

michael put his whole pussy into that scream/crikey

"it won't blow up in our faces will it?" "um just. stick your hands in there okay"

i love when cs uses "bad" colors like the red flashing warning light to indicate goodness like carmen winning

the crikeys are killing me

THE TRIPLE SHOT OF THE TRIPWIRE PROJECT BLOWING UP IS SO ICONIC

i love neal going from horrified at the explosion to looking at bellum like. what did you just say

crying over how carmen just looks at him with no expression on her face after he makes a kiwi joke

and now a series titled "OW!"

thank you

also carmen does a WHOLE FLIP when she crashes (not doing photos because its hard to see) but she goes down on her neck, does a flip, and then slides in on her stomach

wow! good thing carmen is okay after crash landing in the woods due to something going wrong with a glider flight. im sure that won't happen again, and even if it did I'm sure the consequences couldn't be that terrible!

it would have been funny if he had died on impact im just saying

maybe he did and the power of carmen saying the wrong name brought him back

if the copyright wouldnt blow them to hell and back im a thousand percent certain they would have had crackle ask if carmen was like james bond

carmen: ill explain over that coffee also carmen: explains nothing

wow look the line that jumpstarted me writing fanfiction. my first fic was a red crackle fic based off of this scene/the afterscene of acme looking at the cameras and speculations of gray joining acme. guilty ✋

carmen vaporizing on the spot and leaving graham with thousands of dollars is a vibe

yeah vile didnt lay eyes him. yep

ALRIGHT FUCK YES IM CAUGHT UP WITH CS WEEKLY!! STOCKHOLM HERE I FUCKING COME ON TIME YES BITCH MY FAVORITE EPISODE

[ensign-smith]

hello! i have star trek brain rot and would like to find some discord rps

about me: 30yr, she/her, PST timezone. i've rp'ed all my life but i fell away from it for the past 8 years. recently discovered chat bots which are a fun intersection of my hobby of rping and my career in data science. however i figure i should probably also keep talking to humans as well, it's good for the soul or whatever. and also my writing skills. lol

style: lazy lit, i mirror my partner, but i average about 2-5 paragraphs. i'll rp all sorts of characters. im queer/poly friendly. i will double. happy with R-rated plots and content but i'm unlikely to get explicit.

prefs: must be 21+. romance is not required in my RPs. just looking for friendly people who i can really nerd out about star trek with!

Starred is who I'm craving to play!

✨Ensign Vorik✨ x OC (nb x F)

Tuvok x OC/Canon (M x any)

Ex-Borg OC x OC (F//)

Betazoid/Vulcan OC x OC/Canon (F x any)

✨Lore Soong✨ x Romulan OC (M x any)

Bonus: Steven Universe/Star Trek cross-over! Let's make up our own canon!!! (F//)

Bonus: something else??? I love playing playing both canon and original characters!

I have watched these series (at least enough to RP them): TNG, VOY, DS9, LWD, PIC

if any of the following characters pique your interest, reach out here or ringingbellz@Discord!!!

[shed0kryptz]

hi guyz !! im makin a bit of a different post today. i wanted to share some album/ep covers that ive been thinking about recently cuz album art is so cool + i love all of these artists dearly. enjoy my rambles :D

Sign - Nobukazu Takemura (2000)

my pfp !!!! i discovered the title track sign from the album hoshi no koe, but this is the record it originally debuted in! takemura is a japanese electronic musician who makes a lot of experimental music, and this album is no different. however, it has sort of a.. nintendo vibe to it? it’s difficult to describe, but it’s super fun !! i love the album art as well and the rhythmic motion of the building. the little music note guy has my whole heart too, theyre jus a little goober <3

Paraiso - Haruomi Hosono and The Yellow Magic Band (1978)

i wouldve put this in yellow but there is no option. anywayz this is a interesting album. ive recently started listening to hosono’s music and i enjoy it a lot !!! hosono house is fire, but this one is also good ! the cover art is what initially led me to listening to this, i love the beach atmosphere and the sky as space. and the little bubbles that have random monuments in them. and the palm trees n plants and agh. it’s delightfully surreal and im here for it !!!

S-F-X - Haruomi Hosono (1984)

look hosono you’re awesome and i love your early stuff so far. but i could not get into this ep at all. might try again tho !! but it’s really a shame because the cover is awesome. i love the distortion on the face and the pops of pink and yellow against the teal background. it’s very pleasing to look at and it’s been floating in my mind for awhile. very futuristic lookin !

Sail - Masakatsu Takagi (2003)

I AM THE ULTIMATE TAKAGI FAN #1 anyway. this album is so so lovely and silly. it has a special place in my heart now fr. the best way to describe it is animal crossing/picopop(??) type music. some of it reminds me of kero kero bonito’s music too. idk genres are weird !! point is it’s very upbeat and nostalgic. a few tracks are more somber sounding, especially rama. but i love the album art of this one, it’s like something you’d see in a dream or a childhood memory. i love the watercolor texture and the blend of pastel colors too!! and how it looks as if it was combined from multiple layers, as in each piece of the figure was made separately. overall takagi is a genius and this album SLAPS

Keep It Unreal (10th Anniversary) - Mr. Scruff (2009)

mr. scruff makes very cheeky and silly electronic music, but occasionally he drops an absolute banger. nah fr all of his stuff is good, some of it is just more “serious” than others. but i appreciate his sense of humor and the beats he makes ! this album of his is a great listen, but i especially love the cover. the og album cover is mounted up in the corner while these little bean guys are celebrating. truly a work of art. his other album ninja tuna also shares a similar art style !! very goofy <3

A Wizard, a True Star - Todd Rundgren (1973)

do i gotta say anything even. this is just a masterpiece of a cover. there is so much going on in the best way possible. i love the incorporation of the geometric shapes. the trippy visuals. it screams 70s. not to mention this album is fire. international feel is so good !!!

Desire, I Want to Turn Into You - Caroline Polachek (2023)

PHOTOGRAPHY JUMPSCARE ! i recently go into caroline polachek and OML where have you been all my life. this album is pure pop bliss and her vocals are so so good. sunset and fly to you are especially good oug. the album cover in particular is very simple in concept but it’s executed so well. the lighting, the sand, the bus chairs, her outfit?? absolutely stunning. this woman oozes creativity fr.

Dreams - Gabor Szabo (1968)

i could not find a better quality image of this one but holy molay this is a great jazz fusion record. is it fusion? idk anymore. but this is a great album and the art is just. mwah. i love all of the intricate details and the flowers. it’s just gorgeous !!! what else can i say !

Dead but Dreaming - vivivivivi (2023)

final one !!! vivivivivi is honestly super underrated, though her song credits song for my death has 8 million views on yt. anyway, this was a pretty recent album from her and it’s very cool !!! def gives the vibes of an rpg. i love the album cover tho!! the artist did a tremendous job with it, i love the overgrowth of the flowers and the shading. it also suits the tracks well !!

[kindlyfunkn]

my dad just discovered earthspark and was telling me about it, was very short bc i told him i tried watching it and didnt like it (story, setup, animation style and most character design).

the only thing he really mentioned was "megatron is an autobot now" and i said "mm yeah that's something i dont really like, a lot of people like that sort of plot point for megatron now since the comics but personally im not a fan" and he (never read idw, only ever read some of the marvel comics as a kid) went "oh i see" but then "i thought it was funny😁 megatron as an autobot, What the Faack?"

idk there's no takeaway for this from me i just like my dad's opinions on transformers stuff bc he's not really deep into other media beyond shows and the movies or fandom or anything (i mean neither am i tbh but definitely more than him and i have some mildy strong opinions n shit compared to him) but he really really likes it and its fun seeing this jacked 6'1" man bouncing on his toes to tell his me "i found a new transformers show and like- megatron is an autobot or something, that's wild."

i dont think im making a lot of sense or making this seem interesting or funny or whatever bc i dont really have a point. conclusion is im appreciating my dad n i like it when he tells me about stuff he's been watching/doing

[battlemaiden13]

Hi maiden! i have a question regarding how you practice writing the way that you do. i like to imagine scenes in my head but i fail miserably to reflect that onto words (mainly for me, i can never have the motivation to publish anything 😭😭) and i really adore your writing style! Im wondering, do you lowkey find asks n stuff to be good practice material? especially w like more x rated stuff?

i tried making a short angst+smut imagine w syrup and my oc. The angst was passable but the smut💀 awkward, unorganized, repetitive just not at ALL what i had imagined but my vocab is very limited😭

i know that you also expressed that you don't have lots of experience in that area (if im not mistaken), but alll of your suggestive asked are so damn good!?? like HOWWW got me kicking my feet, giggling, twirling my hair and everything.

I want to write like you, help pls 🙏🏾🥹

This is so nice! Like especially because your right, full smut is not something I'm very confident with.

Imagines are 100% amazing practice for my writing even with the more spicier things. The first time I answered more suggestive ask I was defiantly shyer about it but through writing it more and more I've found I've gotten much better. I Also attempted my first full smut recently (It's on my AO3) and it is horrible!

It is so clunky and repetitive and the timing is off and the dynamic didn't come out exactly how I wanted and its there for the public to see and I'm so happy! Even though my first smut attempt has so much wrong with it, so much off about it, it was amazing practice. I learnt a lot. Plus no ones actually said anything about it. Like no negative or good comments on it but I took that to mean it wasn't the worst thing ever.

I think the thing I discovered the most is that you don't have to describe everything in a smut scene. like the build up and the suggestiveness is what makes it so hot and excited. I have a part in the next chapter of HND, it's 50 words at most and I think it's so fucking hot even if the context around it is angsty. Will anyone else think it is? Maybe like one other person and they won't mention it but I wrote it for me. Write for you! Suggest stuff for you and write smut as a way to explore different things. But like I don't think you need to describe what someones cock looks like or count the thrust to a certain beat. it's the build up, the sounds, the pacing!

You'd probably get sick of hearing practice makes perfect but it helps so much. Write small scenes that end just before the 'good stuff', practice describing the important things like an orgasm, find out what's important to you and what you find sexy and write that! Aftercare, dirty talk, bondage, praise doesn't matter. If you find it hot someone else will too but write for you first. PRACTICE

Also like read and take note of what you like about that authors writing. Like do you like mine because it's first person? because I describe things in a certain way? because of what I left out? Taking note of the things you like in others writing will also help you with yours. This also helps with vocab in those situations.

Anyway that was a bit of a rant I was just very excited to talk about writing. I am also so curious about this angst smut with Syrup! Like this whole ask and comments are really nice and I hope I've helped sort of?? No idea. If I haven't you could send in a snippet of the writing that you don't like and I could write it how I would, that could be fun practice. You said you don't have the motivation to publish your stuff so don't like send it all in or any of it if your nervous of it being on my page or anything but I would 100% practice rewrites or just show you how I would write something. that sounds fun and like good practice.

I'm sure your writing is better than you think it is too! Keep up the great work! and thank you for sending the ask in and letting me rant.

[alexanderlightweight]

Four and seventeen for the weird writer questions!

@gardensparrow

Thank you! I had fun answering the questions!

I wrote the draft for this while out and my internet didn’t save or post it. So a redo:

Ahahaha… please read these tags because mentioned below is

Kink, sex. Murder. Unrepentant murder. Eating people (not the sex kind tho that happens too).

4: is what word makes me go feral and it’s that

Oh.

Moment. The moment of italicized realization. I loveeeeee it.

I also love blanch. It’s a great word. It feels nice to say.

A feral word that makes me go mad with rage would be… im not actually sure tbh.

17: things about my wips and all the little stuff that doesn’t make it to rest:

So kelpie au.

sad semi-tragic background for Alec that’s only mentioned once. Half shadowhunter half Seelie baby that gets taken out to be ‘taken care of’ when his mom realizes he’s not full nephilim. That is like… 100 years before canon. He’s immortal in this. He’s still pretty young by immortal standards but he’s been around a bit. I don’t really talk about his age and let it be assumed.

Lots of Cat & Ragnor & Magnus because they’re each others ride or dies. Like cat and Ragnor are the: we’ll sip wine and judge your murders Magnus. Oh you’re running late for a meeting? We’ll finish up here, you run along

There is a giant misunderstanding that never gets untangled because Magnus likes what the misunderstanding gets him. Which is Alec.

Very Dom. Much sub.

This is very much an indulgent predator/prey vibes fic.

Uh breeding kink. A lot of kinks I haven’t posted or written into my other works.

Murder. So much murder.

And like fae eating people and cannibalism sort of. But not the pretty Hannibal cannabalism. The kind that’s dark and gritty, with viscera and gaping maws and too-sharp teeth cracking open bones for marrow.

It’s very dead dove tbf.

There is a lot of lore and world building that I have planned it’s just being delayed. It’s also has @saeths dominion magic and hierarchy.

Alec is pretty much a very cranky isolationist who kills all the pests until Magnus starts courting him. By pests, he means everyone not Magnus.

Magnus does NOT know he is courting Alec. He has feelings when he finds out. Because Reasons™️.

Magnus goes on a murder spree at one point because he’s burying a secret and has no intentions of it ever being discovered.

Like I said, Cat and Ragnor rate his murder style over wine and cheese.

Lots of public exhibition and Alec and Magnus are 😍 at each other and 🤬 at everyone else.

I think the biggest wips I have planned plot and all are:

Kelpie!au which is mostly porn rn.

Stray!cat Alec who basically just starts showing up around Magnus like a stray cat.

And cider verse which has a sequel plotted.

Stray cat au is honestly one of my oldest ideas and favs.

Alec goes to fight a dimensional rift with several teams of shadowhunter.

Out of 24 shadowhunter, only Alec and a team of seven survive.

They spend a a couple weeks there but is actually years i the rift.

Alec sees a lot of stuff because things are weird in rifts and pretty much is like: ah okay so Alec’s needs Magnus’. I should go find mine.

And then just shows up at Magnus.

Who is confusion™️

And Alec has no intention of going anywhere.

Alec spends a lot of time avoiding his family and the clave and hiding out on Magnus’ roof and balcony.

Magnus does not mind and is shocked by this turn of events.

—

Choiceless hope sequel is basically Magnus and Alec fucking with canon events is most of the plot. Like Magnus and Alec troll everyone.

They are also super politically trolling and sneaky though.