#is my mind in the gutter or is there something wrong with how people have been naming things?!?!

[randomfandomss]

Please y'all Google what Penetration Testing is...

[swift-works]

A No Good, Very Bad Day

masterlist

pairing: portgas d. ace x reader (no gender mentioned)

word count: 3k (i may have gotten carried away)

summary: you noticed something was wrong with the second division commander, then you make him talk about his feelings, and then you make him feel better (with cuddles, get your mind out of the gutter)

a/n: WOOO first published AND finished fanfic. Everybody cheer! of course it had to be for my boy Ace <3. the first of many lol i'm emotionally attached to this man. this fic will deal with a little mental health issues and i want everyone to know rn that you are loved, you are appreciated and you are good enough. With that being said i hope you enjoy! ~anna

tags: mental health issues, brief mention of violence, sprinkles of angst, fluff, sfw

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You had noticed it immediately, the way his usual grin lacked any real warmth and his eyes were a dulled of their usual sparkle. Today was one of those days.

You had known Ace for years, as one of the first members of the Spades and continuing to serve in the second division under his leadership. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” you had told him when your fellow Spades were finding their new places amongst the Whitebeards. You’re amongst the few who knew of his true parentage. “I know I'm supposed to be impressed that your sperm donor was the king of the pirates but, it's much more impressive that your mom carried you for 20 months. Now that’s a badass.” The way his tense body slumped in relief and the bright smile and soft eyes he gave you is seared into your memory.

Back to the present. Something was off about him today and you were gonna find out what. So you became his shadow for the day. Following him around the Moby Dick has he went through the motions of his daily routines. His chores? He mopped the same spot for 15 minutes with a faraway look. Lunch? He only had two plates and didn’t even faceplant in them. Sparring? It was less sparring and more like he had something to prove. You didn’t even think he was fully in control of his actions. He had this far away look in his eyes but that didn't stop him from fighting like his life depended on it. After numerous crewmembers started making their way to the infirmary, it was only a matter of time until Marco heard.

Marco was one of the last people you wanted to piss off. Especially if it was causing an abrupt rise in patients on a slow day. You could vaguely make out the pineapple that Marco called his head before he made a beeline for Ace. It wasn’t until Marco made physical contact that Ace seemed to snap back to reality. The second division commander seemed embarrassed and rubbed the back of his neck with a nervous smile but that seemed to ruffle the phoenix's feathers more. “What has gotten into you today?! You took it too far today. Do you know how many people I'm seeing with broken bones and burn marks? You know you're not supposed to use powers for hand to hand sparring, Ace. Get your shit together or I'll tell Pops.”

Ace instantly tensed up, a flash of guilt crossed his face before his gaze hardened. He bowed in apology before rushing off to the crew's quarters. Not even muttering a word as he passed. The deck was silent for a minute before everyone resumed what they were doing before the disaster that was sparring.

Marco frowned and locked eyes with you. With a tilt of his head, you knew his unvoiced question. ‘What crawled up his ass?’ You gave him a concerned look and shrugged. “He’s been like this all day,” was your response when you approached the first division commander. You decided to give Ace a few minutes to himself before you stormed into his room to force him to open up. Marco sighed and ran his palm down his face. 

“Well would you be oh so kind, and figure it out before he goes on another rampage.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and gestured to the lingering crew. There were a few who had a slight limp or an ice pack held to their face. You gave him what you hoped was a reassuring smile and a two finger salute before you started making your way into the lion's den.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

Ace was not having a good day. He knew from the moment he opened his eyes that today was gonna be one of those days. He could feel it in his bones. All he wanted to do was stay in bed and wallow but he knew he had to show his face sometime. The last thing he wanted or needed was people worrying about him. Especially you. You always had a knack for knowing exactly what he was thinking. It was like some superpower you had. He wondered if you had a secret devil fruit power.

He knew as soon as you got him alone that he'd become a giant puddle of vulnerability. One soft look from you and he was a goner. So his number one objective today was avoiding you. He got lucky when he was one of the last ones in for breakfast. That meant that you had already eaten and started your day. Without you to distract him, he allowed himself to get lost in his thoughts. About how he wasn't good enough. About how he didn't deserve this crew. About how he shouldn't be alive. These thoughts were always in the back of his mind. Most of the time he would just ignore the little negative voices in his mind, but today was different.

He tried, he really tried to put up a happy facade. He kept up with his chores, one spot on deck looked especially clean. Thoughts swirled around his mind all afternoon. Nothing seemed to snap him back to his usual cool guy behavior. Not even lunch. People started to notice when the daily spectacle of his food naps hadn't happened so far. Two plates of food? It looked like he was practically starving himself. Even though he really just wanted to hide away, Ace knew it wasn't going to be long before you or someone cornered him.

Conversations ended in blurs, forced smiles and laughter that were beginning to hurt his cheeks. Being on a crew as rowdy and strong as the Whitebeards meant there were usually sparring matches throughout the day. Usually these were all in good faith and more training than actual fights. One big rule for these was the prohibition of devil fruit powers. It was mainly for close combat practice after all. So that injuries were kept to a minimum. Although some used it as an excuse to go bother the nurses even for a slight scratch. (Thatch)

Everyone knew that Portgas D. Ace didn't run from a fight. That also applied to casual spars. He was strong and he knew it. However he didn't feel strong today. Especially with all the eyes on him today, your eyes. Yeah, he knew you’ve been watching him throughout the day. He could always sense when you were around. If it was a better day, he would have searched for you and gave a cheeky wink that usually made your face flush. That wasn't the case today though because he knew as soon as he locked eyes with you that he'd lose the semblance of composure that he's tried to keep all day.

As soon as his matches started it was like his body moved on autopilot. A Jab* here. ‘Come on Ace, you can do better than that,’  he thought to himself. A Cross* there. Thud! Somebody was gonna be feeling that when they woke up. The more people that went against him, the more powerful his punches became. His thoughts were getting the better of him, he didn’t even notice the heat that was emitting from his hands. ‘Is that all the Fire Fist Ace has to offer? Pathetic.’ Consumed in his thoughts, Ace didn’t notice the danger that was rapidly approaching him.

Suddenly a firm hand gripped his shoulder and whirled him around. He was met with the furious eyes of the first division commander. That seemed to snap him back to reality. An angry Marco meant that he fucked up. He looked down at his bloody fists. When did that happen? He could faintly hear Marco giving him a lecture but, as he raised his head he surveyed the scene around him. Members of his division were sporting bloody noses, black eyes or burn marks. Did he do all that?

Ace rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment and conjured up a sheepish smile. “My bad? Guess I got lost in thought and didn't pull my punches.” He tried to laugh it off but the laughter died in his throat when no one laughed with him. If anything that just pissed Marco off more.

“What has gotten into you today?! You took it too far today. Do you know how many people I’m seeing with broken bones and burn marks? You know you're not supposed to use powers for hand to hand sparring, Ace. Get your shit together or I'll tell Pops.”

His body tensed and he knew that it was his fault that so many people had injuries that could have been easily avoided. The feeling of guilt was overwhelming. ‘Why can't I get a grip?’ He couldn’t take much more from today. “I’m sorry for my actions” Ace bowed to the remaining stragglers and then his feet acted before he even realized he was moving. All he had to do was make it to his room before someone stopped him.

On his way to the cabins, he passed you. No words came out of his mouth though. He’d already embarrassed himself enough today. He knew you’d seen the whole thing. The concern written across your face meant that he would be expecting a visit from you soon. Well, better that you come to check on him instead of Pops. Then he’d really wish that the sea would swallow him whole.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

 You arrived at his door only a few minutes after him. You raised your hand and gently rapped against the wood. “Ace? Do you wanna talk?” you called.

Silence followed. You frowned and tried to open his door. It didn't budge and a locked door was never a good sign. You weren't leaving without a fight though.

“I’m giving you five minutes to open this door before I start trying to pick the lock.” you huffed before sliding to the ground. You brought your knees to your chest and leaned against his door before calling out again. “I’ll be right here waiting but I'm not gonna leave you alone until you talk to me, Portgas.”

About a minute passed before you heard shuffling and a thunk as another body pressed against the door from the other side. “You don’t have to waste your time, you know, I'm fine, really.” Ace stressed out. 

You hated when he did this, acting like he’s fine when you know he’s far from it. He’d rather let himself drown than have someone throw him a line. “We both know that what just came out of your mouth is total bullshit. Now would you save us some time and let me in? I was serious about the five minutes and would you look at that, you have one minute left.” you started counting down from sixty.

As soon as you got to thirty, you heard the lock click. You were at twenty when the door finally opened. You looked up from your spot on the ground to see a look of despair on Ace’s face. That was not a look that belonged on his face. You got up from your spot and faced him. His hat was missing as well as his belts, shoes, and his knife. You waited for him to speak first but he was doing the same. It became a stand off to see who would make the first move. Knowing that he was as stubborn as an ass, you caved first and brought him in for a hug.

Ace didn’t move for a moment. All he could focus on were your arms around his neck. He had to stay strong. You couldn't see how weak he really was. But you brought his face into the crook of your neck and he wavered. Technically you couldn't see his face and you smelled so good, so he let his guard down. You felt him relax against you so you shuffled the both of you forward and removed one arm from around him to pull his door shut.

When he heard the door shut, he felt his remaining walls crumble down. He felt the burn as he tried to hold his tears back. If he started crying he didn’t know if he would ever stop. So instead he wrapped his arms around you and held on as if his life depended on it. Ace felt your hand move to his hair, you weaved your fingers through his dark strands and you held him as if he’d drift away. Neither of you said anything or moved for some time. 

Ace finally pulled away but kept his arms firmly around you. Your hands fell to cradle his face, to keep his eyes on you and to catch any stray tears that would fall. The silence broke as you spoke first. “Do you wanna talk about it? It would probably help to not bottle it up.” You stroked his cheek as you spoke. “I promise whatever it is will stay between you and me, not even Deuce is gonna pry this from me.” That got a smile out of him. You and Deuce were like long lost twins, you told each other everything.

“Today…I’ve felt like every bad thought that has ever crossed my mind was on repeat, at max volume. It was like I was a kid again, before my brothers came into the picture. Over the years, the thoughts drifted into the back of my mind, I found people who made them all but forgotten.” He closed his eyes and put his hands over yours, leaning into your touch.

“Sometimes though, like today, they come back in full force. And I feel so alone. Like I’m not Portgas D. Ace, second division commander of the whitebeard pirates. Like I'm just the worthless child of that bastard, who doesn't even deserve to live.” With that, the dam breaks and tears flood down his face. Shoulders shaking as sobs, he buries his face back into the crook of your neck. You continue to hold him and move your hand back to his hair and continue soothing strokes that you hoped would calm him.

You move the both of you to his bed and he is all but glued to your side. He follows your movements until the both of you are in a comfortable embrace on the edge of his bed. You pull back and hold his face, leaning forward until your forehead meets his. “I need you to look at me, Ace. I need to see that you’re listening to me and hearing me.” He met your eyes and nodded.

“You absolutely deserve to live. Your mother carried you for 20 months so that you would have a chance to live. Who cares that you are the biological son of the most famous pirate? I don’t. The Spades wouldn’t. The Whitebeards mostly wouldn’t. Your brothers didn't and Pops sure as hell didn't care either. We care about you. You, Portgas D. Ace, who is one of the kindest souls that I've had the pleasure of meeting. You are so strong a-and i don’t know where I would be without you.” Now you were the one starting to get emotional. “I-People love you Ace. You don’t have to believe me now but I don't want you to forget that. Okay? You. Are. Loved”

The rest of the day went by with you muttering reassurances into his ears while you both cuddled in his bed. His head fell against your chest and you knew he had finally given into his narcolepsy. You stayed with him the entire time, not wanting him to be alone when he woke up. Besides, he was really warm. You could feel yourself grow drowsy and soon fall into a peaceful slumber.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

BONUS:

When neither of you showed up for dinner. Marco took it upon himself to fetch the both of you. Thatch also decided to tag along with a tray of food. Just because Ace caused a bit of chaos that afternoon didn't mean that the both of you needed to miss dinner. “You know, I bet that they actually get together within a month.” Thatch remarked as the duo made their way into the cabins.

“Nah, I’d give it until the end of the year. Have you met them? They’re for sure the slow burn type.” 

They made it infront of Ace’s door and Marco took it upon himself to make their presence known. “Yoi! Ace, open up! We have dinner since you decided to hole yourself in here for the night.”

Thatch squinted at the blond. “Why do you know the term slow burn?”

 “What? I read.” Marco shrugged and knocked on the door again but louder. Thatch made a face and made a note to bring that back up later. Who knew Marco the Phoenix liked romance books. 

Deciding that it was too silent on the other side, Marco went ahead and opened the door. The scene before them made them rethink when you two would end up together. “Did I say the end of the month? I meant the end of the week.” Thatch wished he had a den den mushi camera at that moment.

You both were asleep on the bed. You were on your back with your arms wrapped around Ace, who was basically on top of you with his head on your chest and arms wrapped around your waist. It was almost too cute. Thatch quietly put the tray of food down on Ace’s desk. Meanwhile,  Marco found a discarded blanket on the floor and used it to cover the both of you.

He was glad his little brother was having a better night than the no good, very bad day he had. Thatch looked on the verge of tears himself. So before Thatch could make a ruckus and wake them up, Marco dragged him out and softly closed the door behind them. He put his finger to his lips and gestured with his head to go back to the mess hall. Thatch nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“So……... have you read any good romance novels lately?”

“Shut up, Thatch.”

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another a/n: thank you so much for making it this far! my writing is a little rusty so if there's any mistakes please let me know! and if anyone is ooc thennnnn ignore that. I'm still getting used to writing for one piece. I hope you all enjoyed! stay tuned for more! ~anna

*Jab - A quick and straight punch thrown with the lead hand

*Cross - A powerful straight punch thrown with the rear hand

[everybodylovedcontractors]

Bon Appétit

Part of @beefrobeefcal 's Half Bricked, Wrong Time Challenge

Francisco "Catfish" "Frankie" Morales and F!reader

Word Count - 2,152

Summary - You meet an online date named Frankie and end up in an Arby's drive thru.

Warnings - Some alcohol use. (Oral F! Receiving)

Online Dating. You loathed it. The people you met were always either players or stage 4 clingers. Not to mention, no one ever looks like their profile pictures. Everyone lies about their weight, age, and shoe size. It's a jungle out there, literally. So why did you agree to meet up with this guy?

Sure, his profile picture was pretty cute, and he seemed normal through your conversations, but they all do at first. You parked your car and got out, placing your heels on the ground. You wore a red dress your friend helped you pick out, and lipstick to match.  You took a deep breath before heading inside the restaurant.

As you walk inside, you lock your eyes with him, and your heart skips a beat. He certainly was handsome.   He wore a white button-down shirt and jeans, his hair unkempt, his brown curls flowing freely.  He smiled over at you, holding out his hand.  

"Hi, I'm Frankie. It's so good to finally meet you."  He said. 

You take his calloused hand in yours and shake it.  "Nice to meet you too, Frankie."

"Shall we?  I hear this place has the best pasta around."  

"Oh, I love pasta!" You say walking with him inside the fancy restaurant. The Matre’d leads you to your table where Frankie holds out your chair for you. You thank him and give him a pleasant view of your ass in that red dress as you sit down slowly.  You could feel his eyes lingering a little too long, and you loved it.  

Taking the menu, you glance over it.  The prices are a bit steep.  Frankie is a blue-collar kind of guy who probably can't afford such meals.  You look for something reasonable.  Part of you is flattered he would take you to a fancy place such as this restaurant.  He must really be into you.

"Did you want to share some pasta and a bottle of wine?"  You enquire. 

His face lights up, and he smiles.   "That sounds great, actually.  How about a bottle of chianti and some spaghetti and meatballs?  We can be like Lady and the Tramp.  And to be honest, I think that fits us perfectly."  

He orders the dinner with the waiter and now comes the awkward silence part.   Or so you thought...

The waiter comes with the bottle of wine and pours you two glasses.  You hold up your glass and clink it with his. "Cheers!"  You take a drink of smooth red wine and smile. 

"So, what does as pretty thing like you do for fun?" He asks. 

"Well, I love eating out, going to concerts, traveling, horseback riding, kayaking... What about you? What makes you tick? Oh, and who's your favorite band?"

Frankie almost choked on his drink. Did he just hear that first part, right?  With the alcohol flowing and you looking so fine in that dress, his mind was already in the gutter, but you just mentioned his favorite thing in the entire world.  Eating out. 

"Um, well, I love playing baseball with my friends, spending time with my daughter, working on my car.   And my favorite band is the Foo Fighters." 

"I love the Foo Fighters.  Dave Grohl is a rock God!  But if I had to choose, my favorite band has to be Fleetwood Mac."  

"Fleetwood Mac?  Good fucking choice.   With Stevie Nicks' haunting vocals and Lindsay Buckingham's guitar playing... classic.   You have great taste.  Maybe we could go to a concert sometime together?"

You take another sip of wine and smile, savoring the taste and the company of the attractive man in front of you. "I'm always looking for a concert buddy to go with, and it seems like you have great taste in music."

"I would like that.  Seeing you swaying to a song like "Dreams" pressed up against me sounds like heaven to me."  He replies as he looks her up and down, his heart beating faster. 

You notice his eyes, watching you closely as you take a sip of wine.    As you swallow the deep burgundy liquor, you lick the rest off your lips seductively. Your eyes never leave him as you do so.  Just then, the pasta arrives, being the fancy restaurant it is the portion is much smaller than they expected.

You are his eyes light up in surprise.  "This pasta better be really good for that amount of..."  You take a fork full and put it in his mouth.   The flavors blend perfectly. "Damn, that's good."  He takes a fork and offers some pasta to you.   You eat it off and moan softly with approval.  Frankie shifts in his seat to the sweet sounds and your insatiable appetite.

The two of you eat your pasta, stealing glances at each other as you finish your dish. The night wears on the two of you laughing and flirting until you realize you're the only people left in the restaurant and your wine is gone. The waiter comes to tell you that the restaurant is closing.

"I don't know about you, Frankie, but I don't want this night to end yet."  You admit.

"Me either."  He agrees.

"You could maybe come over, but my roommate is there unless, maybe you'd rather go to your place?  We could watch a movie or something?"  You enquire.  

Frankie gulps and nods.   "Yeah, you can come over if you feel comfortable with that.   No roommates, and the kiddo is at her mother's.   We can be all alone."

Frankie, now in a hurry, pays the waiter, and the two of you leave the restaurant. He wraps his arms around your waist as he walks you to his pick-up truck. Being that you've had a little too much to drink yourself, he offers to drive.  He even opens the door for you before you step inside.  

As you're in his truck, driving to his house, your stomach gurgles. Oh shit, you were starving.  That little bit of food clearly not enough substance, yet you tried to hide it from him, but it was no use.  You had an idea.   

"You know what I could really go for right now?  Some Arby's."

"Arby's, anything for you, baby.  My treat."  He takes the next left and pulls into the drive thru.

In the drive thru, there are tantalizing photographs of the sandwiches and curly fries. The roast beef glistening on the bun. It's stacked perfectly. A mouthwatering picture. You notice Frankie staring at the photograph like it's his last meal on Earth. What could he be thinking about?

Then you notice him run his hand through his hair. He shifts in his seat, adjusting himself. You smirk, was he really that turned on over the picture of roast beef?

But he was that turned on over the electric sex of the photographs of perfectly stacked roast beef. The folds reminding him of his favorite thing in the whole wild world, the female anatomy, the pussy. Frankie was a cunnilingus King. He loved eating a woman out until she couldn't stand it anymore. And that roast beef made him think of you and how much he wanted to do that to you right then and there. His patience wearing very thin.

He needed you and as soon as possible.  He tried to hide the growing hard on in his jeans, shifting uncomfortably.  He prayed you wouldn't notice... but you did. 

"Frankie, you, okay?"

He nods, trying to hide the evidence, but it's getting more difficult to do so.   He takes a few deep breaths.  "That sandwich looks like... and I already wanted to.  I had a glass of wine!"

Suddenly, it dawns on you.   "Wait, you mean that sandwich... reminds you of a...?"  You ask.

He nods sheepishly. 

You glance down at his obvious erection and smirk. "You're that turned on right now?"

He turns to you with a devious look in his eyes, which are now dark at night.  "Baby, ever since you walked into that restaurant, I've been thinking about those thighs and how they would feel draped over my shoulders."

"Frankie!"

He replies, "What you... you wanted to know?  I may be a little reserved, but you have been looking like a snack all night.  And I can't take it anymore."  

You looked over at him, and you felt bad for him.  You decided that Arby's could wait.  "Let's go to your house and we can fix this little problem you have, hmm?"  

He nods again and drives through the drive thru, speeding back to his place.  As soon as you get there, he helps you out of his truck and grabs you.  He places a searing kiss on your lips, his body grinding against yours.  You both practically run into the house, giggling as you do so.  

The next few minutes are a blur of you and Frankie kissing as you make your way to his bedroom.   It's simple with a big bed in the middle of it covered in a white down comforter.   The walls adorned with rock n roll posters.   He leads you to the edge of his bed.  You stop only so he can unzip your dress.   His large hands bring down the zipper with ease.   The feeling of his touch on your soft supple skin drives him wild.   

You turn around and take the straps down, gently pulling down the red fabric.  With each inch, you reveal more of your moonlit skin, your breasts exposed first.  Frankie runs his hands down to your aching flesh, kneading them gently as he leans in to kiss your neck.   He leaves behind a fire of quick kisses and nibbles upon your skin.   

"God, Cariño, you're so beautiful.  Even better than..."  

"That sandwich?" You respond.  

"You make me forget all about that sandwich, beautiful.   I'm still hungry, though..."  He purred.  

Your breath hitches as he confesses his hunger for you.  You shimmy down the rest of your dress, revealing your lacy white panties.   You can hear him groan at the sight.   You lean in kissing him once more, and your hands are pulled towards his chest as if magnetized.  You take your hands and run them up his chest, your delicate fingers unbutton his crisp button-down shirt.  You take your time with each button until you finish removing it.  Your hands roam his bare torso, moving ever so lower down to the button in his jeans.  

You move your hands down to the button of his jeans and gently graze over his arousal.  "Is this all for me?"  You ask. 

He nods as he helps guide your hands to unbutton his jeans.  You gently pull off his pants, revealing his boxers.  His breath hitches as you free him from the confine of the heavy fabric.   

You then slowly lower yourself on the bed.  Your legs spread wide for him.  You prop up with your elbows on the bed.  "And this is all for you."

With your permission, he crawls onto the bed on top of you.   Your gaze adverts up to his dark, lust filled eyes.  With his help, you remove your panties and drag your finger up to your glistening folds.  You take your arousal on your index finger and hold it up to him.   "Bon Appétit, baby."

His breath catches in his throat as he sees your offering, your boldness, your dominance.  It drives him wild.   He takes your finger in his mouth and sucks every last drop of you from it.   

It's almost like something snaps, and he takes you by the hips and moves you forward until you're open wide.  He lifts your ass in the air and throws your legs over his shoulders.   His tongue licks up your slit as he devours you.  His nose brushing against your clit as he fucks you with his tongue.  Your body is writhing at his touch.   He moves his tongue to your bundle of nerves and begins flicking.

He inhales you like a man starved.   You're the sweetest scent he's ever smelled and tasted.  And as your thighs begin to shake, he doubles up on the pleasure until he feels you clench around him.   Your moans of desire only fuel his fire, and he doesn't stop until you come back down to earth, crashing against the pillow in your afterglow.   He laps up your sweet nectar and smirks.

"Way better than fucking, Arby's."

You laugh and nod in agreement.  

The next morning, you wake up to the smell of breakfast being cooked in the other room by your handsome host.    You walk into the kitchen in an old T-shirt of his and panties.  Inside the kitchen, you grin watching Frankie from afar as he keeps cooking.  

"So, what's for breakfast?"  You wonder.

"Eggs and roast beef hash and eat up cause I'm not finished with you yet, Preciosa."

That was a promise he would keep.  

Dividers by @uzmacchiato

Tag list @baronessvonglitter @letsgobarbs @probablyreadinsmut

[livililla24]

The LADS reaction to those weird ads from Love&Deepspace lately…

Link below and credit:

Zayne is at work when he sees the link you send him with a text message saying “found this on my fyp and I want you to have a look.” Very innocent, he thought. Maybe even work related considering the time of day it was send. Oh, how he was wrong. Zayne was very surprised to see the Daddy plastered on the screen, indicating him. He would be lying if he said it didn’t affect him at all how people saw him. But knowing that now, makes his face heat up a tiny bit.

He shut down the ad immediately and didn’t respond to your message until after work. Later afternoon you’d expect a response from him saying “You know this can mean two things, right? Get your mind out of the gutter- yes, I mean exactly what you’re thinking.” And then nothing. No further comment before Zayne is outside your apartment door. Something tells me he isn’t just staying for dinner…

- Zayne would SNAP wether you whispered or screamed that nickname. No matter what, he’d lose his patient manners immediately.💚

- Despite liking the idea of being called “daddy” he’d rather you would moan his actual name when you’re close. 💚

- For Zayne, the name calling (in that sense) works best for foreplay. 💚

I think Zayne would be into the whole “daddy” thing. Honestly, he might be the least kinky of them all but I doubt he’d miss out on this one. And the ad have probably whispered a little idea into that pretty head of his.💚

Sylus is bored out of his mind in his study and is much delighted to receive a text message from you in the middle of his work day, saying “no idea why this popped up on my fyp but sharing is caring.” Sylus’ charming smirk only widens when the ad plays on. Not even bothering to turn down the volume.

He replies immediately after you send the link. You can practically hear the smug voice through the screen when you read “Is this an indication to something? Come over tonight and I’ll show you what a Master does to his cute kitten.”

- Sylus would come and get you from work with that smug “bed” expression of his that makes your whole body sizzle like a starting fire. 🩷

- The drive home to his mansion is shorter than usual and you can’t help but wonder what caused it.🩷

- He would call you lots of wholesome names during rough sex. Stark contrast but makes it so much better.🩷

I think Sylus would enjoy this a whole lot. Honestly, he’d do anything you wanted during sex. But he has a dominant nature with him actually being a dragon and therefore probably turned on by the “master” roleplay. But would of course never dominate you into something you didn’t like.🩷

Xaiver needs to do a double take…and a third. He just took a nap at you guy’s usual meeting spot - the cafe - and had to sort of wake up properly before reading his name and then the hunted. At first he is so confused, like, what? But then thinks better of it and the gears in his freaky mind starts spinning.

He needs to text you back about the meaning and purpose of the link “I’m confused…what do U mean?” When you reply with equally as much innocence as his question was “I think it’s about the hunter and be hunted in a sense…” his thoughts spiral with confusion and it’s only when he returns home. Laying in his soft bed and looking up at the ceiling, thinking about you, that he understands. A slow smirk appeared on his handsome face and he decided to take action into his own hands.

- He would come downstairs to knock on your apartment door and question you personally about the idea.🩵

- Then he’d allow you to go on with it without hesitation and let you “hunt him down.”🩵

- The rp goes like this: he is tied up, prey to the hunter and can only take what is given. He enjoys being on the receiving end for once but has to get used to being out of control. 🩵

I Think Xavier would be confused about the ad for so freaking long before finally getting it. Mostly because he saw the link right when his mind was still half asleep. He has to get used to being the “hunted” for once but he is obviously open to trying something different with you. 🩵

Rafayel is so flabbergasted when he clicks on the link you send him. Lucky for him that he was in the privacy of his studio. Reading your innocent message makes him a little surprised. I lied. He shrieked at it before blushing a deep shade of red. Both from his sudden reaction and embarrassment.

At first glance he is deeply offended upon finding out that he is, in fact, the Good boy of the group. But after leaving it behind for an hour to focus on sketching, Rafayel finally starts to think better of it. Something within him stirs and makes him feel fuzzy, excited even.

- When you return home he approaches you immediately. Holding up his phone with the ad displayed. He is mad to attempt to get you to put him in his place and call him…that. 💜

- his pouty face is on right until you call him a “good boy” and he melts. 💜

- Rafayel’s moans will definitely turn into whimpers and more often than usual. 💜

I think Rafayel would be much more into it than you would (if that’s even possible) and he would literally ask you to do it just on a normal basis. Outside of sex, he would still enjoy it - to a certain degree before he needs what comes after…💜

(I am not an author and this did NOT turn out the way I wanted. But I thought the idea funny and therefore tried my best🥹)

[justanamesstuff]

I want to be with you everywhere - Matty Healy x f!reader

A/N: I'm not sure if I'm happy with this...let me know what you think!! <3 (takes place before part 1 and 2)

Warnings: fluff, the three words, car sex, hard language, 18+ MINORS DNI!!!!!!

Word count: 3.2 k

Blog Masterlist

Supermarket 

“Matty?” Y/n startled him out of his daydreaming. “My eyes are up here…” she teased him, smiling when his eyes opened a millimetre more due to embarrassment. 

They were trying to empty the shopping trolley with all the food and drinks they brought minutes ago for the barbecue Adam and Carly were going to host in their house. Y/n tried not to think about it because her anxiety would rise to a level she might not be able to keep under control. She already meet Matty’s friends, family, and a lot of people involved in his life during the past few months, even though Y/n still couldn’t get used to be around his friends. She was very aware of how much their opinions weighted on Matty. 

Y/n shook her head, returning to the present moment. Matty was holding a piece of cheese and his mouth was hanging open a bit. His lips and mouth calling for her. He always looked handsome, although that day he was breathtaking. 

“I-” he tried speaking, but his voice got stucked on his throat. “I’m sorry, I just-” the singer left the item inside the booth, rubbing his hands nervously. 

“Matty, it’s alright. I was messing with you.”

“No, I know. I- I wasn't ogling you like a moron, okay?” he tried to justify himself.

Y/n rounded the cart between their bodies, “Baby, I wouldn’t mind if you looked at my cleavage.” she brushed the curls falling on his pretty face, staring at his eyes with care.

“I was looking at your…your body.” he cleared his throat, making her chuckled. She hadn't seen him this nervous in all the months they have dated. Worried popped into her mind. 

“What’s wrong, Matty?” Y/n frowned a little, Matty hated it. 

“I’m trying to say something, but I don’t want to scare you…” Matty let his hands rest on her hips, looking down at his hands create circles on the fabric of Y/n’s dress. 

Y/n kept her silence, waiting for him to be able to express his thoughts. She touched his features, trying to transmit him some calmness. The only thing it would scare her would be him breaking up with her. Her heart skipped a bit thinking about that possibility.

“I was looking, admiring you…maybe a bit like a twat, but I didn’t have my head in the gutter. Well, not fully.” Matty laughed apprehensive. He took a big breath, trying to gather his thoughts. “Y/n…” Matty said. “I can’t believe I’m such a lucky bastard, you…you being this incredible person, so smart, so caring, so damn beautiful.” he shook her body slightly. “You being incredible and wanting to date me…me?” Matty touched his chest with his point finger. 

“I do…so much.” she interrupted his monologue.

“Can’t believe I’m going to say this in the middle of a supermarket car park…” Matty closed his eyes for a second, talking more to himself. “I love you, Y/n. So, so much…everything about you.” Matty spoke, staring into her soul.

Y/n felt a tingling sensation travel all around her body. “You do?” she asked, low.

Matty nodded. “Yes.” he replied. “You don’t have to say it back! I felt the need to say it, because I can’t hi-” 

The frontman couldn’t finish his sentence because Y/n let her lips fell on his. They paused for a little, just taking in the points of contact between their bodies. Matty grew anxious quickly, so he let his hands travel to her back, rubbing his hands up and down. Y/n’s reaction was to smile, which broke the kiss a little.

“I love you so much, Matthew.”

“Why ‘Matthew’?” he complained. “Sounds like I’m in trouble…” he pouted, not letting her go far from him.

Y/n lift her hands to rest around his shoulders. “You’re in serious trouble, mister. I’m not letting you go so…”

“Won’t complain, really.” 

“I love you, Matty.” the words tasting different when she direct them to the man in front of her, the man of her dreams. 

“Agh, I’ll never get used to this…ever.” Matty let his head hid on the crock of her neck, mumbling incoherences. His stubble and breath tickling her, adding to her giddiness after all the confessions.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At Hann and Carly’s house

“Matty!” George screamed in his right ear.

He detached his sight from Y/n profile, who was deep into conversation with Polly about hair products –saying words Matty never heard of. Matty let his eyes fell on his best mate’s smugly face. 

“What?” he spat, bringing his left hand to rest on Y/n’s thigh. 

“Was talking to you.” G crossed his arms on his chest. Matty rolled his eyes at him. “She won’t disappear if you stop looking at her. Y’know that, right?”

“Fuck off.”

“What are you two bickering about now?” Y/n let her hand rest on top of Matty’s. 

“‘bout this one smitten with you.” G said before taking a sip of his drink. “Simp.” he mumbled.

Matty returned to look at Y/n, “Ignore him.” 

“Why? I like what he was saying…” she smiled at him, pushing her body closer to Matty’s.

The frontman let his left arm round her, bringing his girlfriend even closer than before. He left a chaste kiss on her lips, trying not to indulge too much making the rest uncomfortable although at the same time being incapable of not touching and kissing his girl.

Y/n pushed her chest on his, trapping her hands between their bodies. She was wishing to bring him back to her flat or hear his offer to go to his, even though that would be rude. 

The singer backed a little, “We’re leaving.”

“What? Why?” she searched inside his eyes.

“Y/n.” he warned her.

“Baby, we can’t leave.” Y/n whispered.

“Oh, yes, we can.”

“Matty.”

“Please, Y/n. I need you.” his hand creeped to touch her knee, pleading her. 

“Hey! You two!” Ross broke the tension growing between them. “Find a room.” he joked around, letting Matty use it for his own advantage. 

“Actually, we’re leaving.” he stood up from his chair.

Matty took Y/n’s hands, pushing her slightly to copy his own actions. 

The boys whistled and Charli screamed, “Yes, girl!” 

Matty didn’t stop to say goodbye to the people around the table, he couldn’t care less. The singer was sure they wouldn’t mind and even found it funny. He would put up with the jokes later. 

Y/n let him lead her towards the car, feeling deeply embarrassed by his actions and a bit turned on. 

She turned to her right side, staring at him, “You’re insane, y’know that? I’ve bearly know them…what would they-”

Matty quickly interrupted her rambling, “They’re happy for me…for you. That’s all, baby.” Y/n seated back, trying to calm herself. “C’mon, my love.” The sweet name warmed her inside, but she tried to ignore the feeling. Matty let his hand touch the hem of her dress, then his feathery touch trailed towards the inside of her tight thighs. “I love you.” Matty approached his lips to press kisses on her neck. He disarmed her and Y/n couldn’t help to open her legs wider. “Say it.” 

“What?” she stared back into his brown eyes, full of lust.

“Y/n.” he wasn’t having it.  “Say it.”

The singer didn’t wait for her reply, to move his hand closer to her core. She was hyperaware of his hands touching her skin.

“I love…” Y/n stopped talking when his fingers pushed the fabric on her clit without moving far. The pressure turning her into putty.  

Matty backed his fingers centimetres away,  “You love who?”

“Matty!” she protested, sensing the lack of his digits and her clit pulse. 

“Who, Y/n?”

“I love you. Please, don’t stop.”

“Good girl.” 

Even though he didn’t continue. Matty backed all the way, going to turn the car on, and started driving away from his bandmate’s house. 

Y/n stared at him without believing his actions. One minute he was all over her, and the second later appeared composed like nothing happened. Y/n whined loud. 

“What?” she protested.

“What?” Matty mimicked her voice, staring at the road. 

“I hate you.”

“You don’t.” Matty gripped the steering wheel with both of him hands. 

“Drive me home.” she tried to command, knowing deeply inside he wouldn’t let her go that easily. 

She wasn’t wrong. 

“Baby.”

Y/n bit her lower lip, trying to stay in silence.

“Okay, we’re going to your house then.” Maty sentenced, implying he was part of the plan.

“No, I am going…alone.”

“Absolutely no.” he shook his head, still not looking at her. “Don’t a brat. You just need to wait a few more minutes, and you’ll have everything you want, my love.” Matty said in a rather softly tone. 

“I want you.” she whined, touching the middle of his leg.  

Matty's side glanced at her. “Do as I tell you.” the singer took her hand, lifting it up until it was secured on her own lap.

Y/n pretend to obey the order. For a few minutes, the song blasting on the radio occupied the silence between them. Matty relaxed while driving, oblivious to his girlfriend’s thoughts.

Without hesitation, she felt brave enough to shuffle in her seat, taking her underwear down her legs and finally off. The sudden movement, beside him, made Matty looked between the road and her. 

“What are you doin’?” he asked, feeling a rush of heat taking over his neck and cheeks. 

Y/n ignored him, leaving the piece of cloth between them around the gear lever. She didn’t spare him a glance, driving Matty insane. 

She lifted her dress until it rested on her stomach, showing all of her lower half in all its glory. Y/n touched her chest slightly, teasing herself a little. The expectation growing meanwhile, her hands roamed lower. Matty saw her touched the lower part of her stomach and her body shake due to the cool air hitting her perfectly.  

His girlfriend moaned, throwing her head back, looking for support that finally the seat gave her. Y/n ignored her dripping core, choosing to touch her knees, widening the space between them.

“Y/n..” Matty tried to stop her, but his tone wasn’t exactly harsh or believable. 

“Mhm?” she asked, her eyelids heavy.

She chuckled when he didn’t answer, stopping the car under the traffic light, waiting for the greenlight. Y/n traced the interior of her legs, feeling she was more than ready to welcome him. Her digits found the knob of nerves, circling slowly even when her fingers were eager to go faster. The sensations taking over her, controlling her hips. Y/n griped the side of the car sit with her free hand, helping with the friction. 

Matty pressed the gas pedal when he could. Since her flat wasn’t really far from Hann’s house, they reached their destination rapidly. Matty stopped the car in a dark part of her block. Turning to look at Y/n, who wasn’t paying attention to her surroundings. All of her attention were in the knot on her stomach.

“Matty” she moaned, asking for him to touch her. 

“Oh, no…you get yourself into this. Now you’re going to finish it.” Matty palmed himself through his trousers, staring at the sweet scene in front of his eyes.

“Please.”

Even though Matty couldn’t help to direct her from afar, “Stop teasing yourself.” he command. “Test if you’re ready for one finger, baby.” His left hand coming to rest on top of her seat car. 

“I’m so wet, baby.” Matty groaned when the information reached his ears, his eyes travelling down to the part of her body dripping on his car seat. He didn’t care if she ruined it. 

He nodded, unbuttoning his trousers, making a lot of noise with his belt, “You look so good like this, my love.” Matty encourage her. Y/n opened her eyes, looking at him push his trousers down, but keep his boxers. 

“Matty-”

“Keep going.” he said. “Ready for another?” Matty let his hand touch hers, taking her finger out of her pussy and bringing it to his mouth. He moaned around her fingers. Y/n didn’t dare to look at other part than his face, in a deep trance with his beauty and him hollowing his cheeks while tasting her.

“Yes, yes.”

Matty selected her middle and ring finger, pushing the others down, and without breaking eye contact he brought them closer to her core. Her sight tried to follow their intertwined hands, but her boyfriend wasn’t happy,  “Look at me, Y/n.” he ordered and she obeyed. His eyes tingled, knowing how receptive she was, how she let him have all the power over her. Y/n trusted him, Matty’s dominant side loved that.

Matty and Y/n stared at each others, while she felt the pressure of her fingers on her entrance. She gasped when he impulsed her fingers to get inside slowly. Y/n closed her eyes a bit because everything was getting too much, too intense. “Look at me, I said.” his other hand travel to the back of her head, holding her nape. “That’s it, baby girl.” Matty tilted his chin up, proud of himself.

Y/n’s boyfriend knew her body like the back of his hand. Matty made her fingers brushed the rough patch, making her lips lift, and an explosive sensation crawled from her small back all the way down to explode all around her. Matty kept guiding her hand, helping Y/n ride her high until she collapsed on her seat once more. 

“Open.” the frontman presented her own hand in front of her mouth. The skin of her fingers wrinkled by all the wetness created a rare sensation against her tongue. Y/n licked his fingers, although she pushed her hand out of her hand, gasping for some air. “Are you okay?” he checked, afraid it could be too much for her. Matty stroked her hair, soothing Y/n.

“More than that.” she gifted him a drunken smile. 

“Okay, let’s go upstairs.” Matty went to push his trousers back up, even though she stopped him.

Y/n quickly launched herself closer, placing her hand on top of his. “No.”

“No?” he crooked his eyebrow.

“I can’t wait any more.”

Before Matty could even ask about it, Y/n moved to straddle him. 

“Y/n, someone might see.” Matty looked around the empty street, knowing probably most of the neighbours were sleeping or out at the same time, he feared for their privacy. 

“I know.”

Matty laughed, “Naughty girl.” his hands squeezing her hips. 

Y/n’s boyfriend admired how she opened her dress, showing she wasn’t wearing a bra, hence why Matty could scan her naked body fully in front of his eyes. He was a lucky bastard indeed.

“Fuck.”

They didn’t wait a single more second, Matty pushed her still wet core to connect with his under the thin material of his boxers. Y/n was still dripping and staining his boxers, making Matty moaned with the sensation. So close and so far.

Her hips started moving back and forward rhythmically, trying to find the perfect one for both of them. Matty didn’t move his hands, slightly guiding his girlfriend.

His mouth swiftly found the expanse of her breast, biting on the under side of her left one. Y/n replied, whining uncontrollably, moving faster and throwing her head back. Once more, she was getting closer and closer to the edge, although this time she wanted him buried inside her. 

“Matty.” 

He spoke back, with his eyes admiring her nipples move and his hands holding her tits together, “Yes, baby?”

“I need you, now.”

Matty smirked, changing the direction of his eyes. Without adding more words, he detached his hands from her body, leaning to reach the car glove box behind Y/n. He groped a hand inside, searching for a condom. 

Y/n took advantage of his distraction, pushing his boxers under his balls. His cock was dripping with pre-cum and her mouth craved to taste him. She swiped it with her finger, gathering enough to taste it. Matty shook his head, while ripping the plastic. 

“Be glad we’re not inside because I’d be punishing you for that.” he said, pushing the rubber down his shaft. 

“I hope you do.” Y/n knew she was playing with fire.

“Y/n.” her name on his lips was the perfect anthem for her ears. “Ready?” he brought her body closer again, stopping when she was just above his tip.

“So ready.” she moaned out. 

Matty brushed the tip of his cock, teasing between her entrance and clit. Y/n let him without protesting, knowing she was close to get what she wanted for so long. Finally, he trusted inside her, looking directly into her eyes. Y/n allowed her body to fell forward, their foreheads connecting, meanwhile her hands took his neck between her hands.

“How come you’re always so tight, baby?” Matty’s voice came strangled, putting all his force to not come just yet. “Can I move?”

“Yes, move- please, move.” 

Matty nodded silently, grabbing her hips, pushing Y/n’s body up and continuity down. His mouth travelled from her lips, after leaving a sweet kiss, towards her beck and collarbones. He licked and bite every part of her skin, wanting to mark her as his. Although the best for him was meeting her nipples again. Nothing compared to her beautiful tits jumping by trusts. Nothing compared to Y/n’s beautiful soul and body. 

“Matty-”

“‘doing so well, baby.” he praised her. “Always so good for me.”

“Faster, please.”

“Already coming, baby?” he leaned backwards, replacing his mouth with his palms.

“Mhm.”

Y/n pulsed around him, so his voice sounded low and raspy,“Who makes you come this fast?” the question going directly to her centre. 

“You, Matty…is always you.”

Matty noticed she was indeed very close to her release. He brought his right thumb to circle on top of her clit, while his hands clenched to her hips like if his life depended on it. Y/n let herself go, making her movements quicker than before, pushing Matty to the edge. 

The singer pushed his pelvis up to meet her warmth, meanwhile Y/n’s body arching in pleasure offered him his tits again. Matty didn’t wait a second. He reached his peak bruising the soft skin of her chest. Y/n collapsed on top of Matty, feeling how his arms held her.

Accelerated breaths filled the void inside the car.

“Are you okay?” Matty brushed her back, sneaking his hands under the fabric of her dress, which shielded them from the outside world. He didn’t want to pull out just yet.

“Yes.”

“Can you walk?” he inquired. 

Y/n giggled on his neck, filling his stomach with something closer to complete happiness. “Don’t be so full of yourself, Healy.” 

He joined her, laughing of his own question. Matty left a few kisses on the side of her head.

“Let’s go…I’m not done with you.” 

Y/n pushed her body back, feeling ready to continue the night with him inside her bed. 

[chevelleneech]

Hi. What are your thoughts on all rameyon talk??

I’m genuinely curious why some of y’all send messages with multiple punctuation marks? Is there a different meaning behind them these days? I’m “old” so maybe there isn’t as much urgency implied anymore. Idk.

Anyway, my take on their use of ramyeon this time, is somewhere in the middle. I initially thought they were just talking about food, but upon watching the clip back later I heard JK sing “3D” the way he said Jimin sings it, and then Jimin sang it back to him. Before Jungkook sang it though, he immediately hit Jimin on the back with his towel.

So… contrary to what seems to be the common assumption about Jimin being flirty this time, I actually think he really was talking about food. It seems like JK’s mind was the one to instantly jump to sexy times, and him hitting Jimin was what triggered JM realizing what he said was understood as an innuendo.

Obviously Jimin knows the slang reference, but I think it was one of those moments where it simply wasn’t on his mind. He was hungry and wanted to eat, but JK’s mind went to the gutter, but I don’t think either of them were really asking for sex. I think they were just playing with the innuendo for a second, but ultimately were talking about whether or not they should eat.

ITS2, however, I think was likely a genuine example of them being intentionally suggestive. The way they laughed back then seemed way too on the nose.

As for my overall thoughts of them making this joke… 1) they’re adults. Grown people make sex jokes literally all the time. I know some fans don’t like to view the members as “immature”, but it just kind of is a thing. Sex talk is funny, even to people in their late twenties near thirties and older.

2) If there really is something going on between them, sex jokes are a natural part of being with someone. Particularly if the two of you are sexually active.

For example, I would bet money that had the pool not had a glass insert, we would not have seen the beginning of their antics in it. Based solely on the look on his face, and the look Jungkook had when he glanced at the cameras and told Jimin the wall was see through, Jimin planned to get handsy. Not handsy, but much more in JK’s space. Hands on his chest or something, not to speculate too far.

I mean, objectively Jimin got in the water and moved toward JK pretty quickly, and the look on Jungkook’s face was totally, “Oh shit, wait a second.” To be honest, the more I think about it, the more that moment in the pool was one of the more damning things they’ve done.

We know they put their mouths on each other. For a fact, we know that. JK did it in front of an audience, but I truly don’t think he realized how visible him sucking Jimin’s ear was. Then Jimin, unprovoked, admitted to biting on Jungkook’s neck in private. So my assumption is that had the pool wall been solid, and JM and JK actually started embracing or overtly flirting, the crew would have just turned the cameras off and turned their backs or walked away, because again, they get paid to see and hear nothing.

And I don’t want to turn this into some deep conspiracy thing or anything, but camera crews and managers and assistants and makeup teams and so on are the backbone of all entertainment industries, and they know everything. They’re just paid and are contractually obligated to pretend like all of it is fallacy. Aside from rolling on abusers and awful people, these people aren’t likely to ever spill any sort of truths. Not until their NDA expires, and even then, how often do we hear from them?

Don’t get me wrong, I know plenty spill the beans for a quick buck, but in comparison to how many exist? It’s not even a quarter. Especially when it comes to queer relationships and closeted celebrities. No one is trying to deal with the public shaming that comes with outing someone, unless they themselves are a horrible person.

So yeah. I got off track, lol, but I do think there was a smidge of flirtatiousness going on this time, but it wasn’t as serious as it was during ITS2. Nor do I think it was more risqué than the flirting Jimin planned to do in the pool, before he was interrupted by the reality of the glass wall.

[jeonstarz]

Hi guys!! Here is a small drabble since I did want to upload something and not make it seem like I have nothing cooking. I hope you guys enjoy this!! Maybe I'll make this a series but I just want to see how well this will do since this is my first time ever writing, I love to incorporate a lot of my humor and personality through my writing and I hope you can feel that! I appreciate any feedback as well, and let me know if it's worth continuing! Thank youuuu (also sorry for any spelling errors or grammar mistakes LOL)

Summary: The rain poured so hard, drowning out the chaos in her head, but nothing could quiet the weight of betrayal sitting in her chest. Her apartment no longer felt like home—thanks to the so-called best friend who tore her world apart—and the last person she wanted to see was Jeon Jungkook, campus heartbreaker and insufferable asshole. Why the hell would Y/N ever associate herself with someone like him! Yet...against all better judgment, she indulges in him secretly. What should have been a simple trip to freakass WAWA might just be turned into something else entirely—a clash of sharp words, quiet tension, and a door held open by the one person who shouldn't make her stomach twist. She hated Jungkook. She hated his smirk, his taunts, the way he always seemed to be one step ahead. (HE IS NOT!) But as she sat in his car, one thought settled heavily in her mind: she in a reeeallll pickle.

Word Count: 2,047

What am I supposed to do?

As cliché as it freaking sounds, it is a dark rainy night. Streetlights and apartment lights, buildings high and overlooking. And the smell of moist air and downpour—people huddling together, seeking shelter, wet hair and wet clothes, a walk and a destination, it feels like the scent of regret—or something like that, I don’t know. The rain pounds the pavement in relentlessly, pooling in gutters, slipping down the glass of those towering apartment buildings. Those streetlights flicker too, their glow fractured by the storm. Umbrellas bob through the streets as well. Meanwhile, I walk alone, my small umbrella barely enough to shield me.

I hold such a heavy and deep sadness, it feels too heavy for my own body.

I love to love, I love to protect the people I love with every ounce of my being. I am fierce and loyal and everything in between—I’m passionate. I would start a war for the people I love, and yet it feels so lonely. I make people laugh, I have friends, but my existence still feels like something misunderstood. Something people get wrong.

Being misunderstood and then manipulated isn’t fucking fun.

I’m walking but I feel so much apprehension within me.

It’s hard. How am I supposed to do this? What do I do, why can’t I just move away and live on a farm or something somewhere. My stomach feels like it’s in knots.

Jesus, someone help me. Someone tell me how to do this. I don’t have low self-worth—at least, I tell myself that. But it does feel like I have to pretend I am untouchable so no one sees the cracks beneath, as corny as that sounds. I have high standards, I’ve never been in a relationship, and I refuse to settle for anything less than a love that makes me feel… real.

A love where I am treated as something rare, something beautiful, something seen.

Trust me, it’s not about worth, but I do feel like I do have to fake it in order to present myself like I’m confident.

You know, I’ve always wanted a natural love where I’m treated beautifully, kindly, wholly, like I am a manifestation of someone’s dreams. But it’s hard, because I myself don’t feel like a dream girl.

But shit, do you know how nice it would be, to be a dream girl? Could I ever be someone’s dream? Could I really be someone else’s? Is it THAT difficult to imagine myself as such, or that difficult for someone to imagine me as such?

I should stop, enough.

God, I do wish someone would look at me sometimes. Not as a friend. Not as a convenience. Just me. I’m tired of being everybody’s friend.

I’m walking back to my dorm, drenched altogether. The street is lonely and quieter now that I’ve reached my block. Only the sound of distant hums of rain and the city and fall of it dropping down all on my shoulders. My dorm is an apartment, four of us live there.

I’m going through the worst time of my life, my best friend on campus that I live with did one of the most evil things she could possibly ever do, I’ll explain that in depth when I can. For now, all you need to know is her ass ended our three year friendship over MEN. It gets a lot worse, but just know she is not to be trusted.

It hurts like hell though. I really loved her so much. She traumatized and manipulated me so fucking bad. I will never be caught lacking like this EVER again. I don’t even want to be back at my apartment, I feel so unsafe in my own space because of her.

I walk towards the entrance and swipe my card in, shaking off the rain. I barely have time to fold my umbrella before someone collides into me—hard.

I don’t need to look up. I know that build anywhere.

“What the fuck, Jungkook!” I shove him back, my frustration bubbling over.

He smirks. Casually. Like he doesn’t give a damn. Like he enjoys this.

“Shit Y/N. Sorry.” I know he doesn’t fucking mean it. Not even a little.

Yo, I HATEEEE this dude bruh.

“Whatever.” I grit my teeth, storming toward the elevator, jabbing the button impatiently.

I didn’t realize his lame-ass was sneaking up behind me. And right as the doors open, he leans in, voice low and teasing, “Next time, I’ll bump into you harder. I know you’d like that.”

“Fuck off, Jungkook. I’m fucking serious. Not in the mood.”

He just annoyingly laughs. I hate his audacity. And then, just as quickly, he’s gone.

The elevator doors finally open, I enter and I press the fifth floor.

Y’all trust me, I hate Jungkook so BAD.

Daddy’s-money, HELLA popular college boy, always surrounded by girls. Stupid perfect body. Stupid perfect face. He’s not even that attractive. Not really. Not at all. A dumbass body-build with a stupid face and GOD I hate him. I can’t stand him. He irks me like no other and makes my day fully worse. His agitating voice and ways of mocking me. I freaking hate living here. SOMEBODY SAVE ME.

By the time I reach my floor, the weight in my chest is unbearable. I walk to my place, and the silence of the apartment greets me, thick and suffocating. I know the girls are in their rooms. Especially her.

Vanessa.

It’s just so eerily weird to live in this apartment now. And I know she’s awkwardly avoiding me, doing the absolute most. I hear her tiptoeing in the mornings, avoiding me like a coward. I can feel the lies she’s whispered about me, the way the atmosphere has shifted.

Why do they believe her?

I make it to my room, shutting the door behind me, locking it. Safe—at least, as much as I can be. I change out of my wet clothes, dry my hair half-heartedly, and sit on my chair, staring at nothing.

What did I do to deserve this?

The pain sinks deeper. The hurt sits heavier.

I let myself cry. Silently. Bitterly.

I wish someone would hug me.

There is no amount of the evil eye jewelry I can wear that can protect me from my suffering, that bitch is the cause of it all. I don’t deserve this.

It’s around 3 am, the rain outside lulls me toward sleep. I must have dozed off because the next thing I hear is—

BOOM.

I hear a big, loud vine ass boom.

Fuck, I have to change my text notification sound to something else, I keep forgetting the vine boom is my text notif sound.

My eyes snap open and I check my phone, the brightness causing me to squint my eyes.

Freaky Deaky Annoying Asshole DO NOT CONTACT: you free?

Now why the HELLLLL is Jungkook texting me at this time. What the hell does his ass want.

Me: It’s 3 am, loser. PLEASE leave me alone.

Freaky Deaky Annoying Asshole DO NOT CONTACT: come to wawa with me. i’m bored as hell.

Me: Since when the hell do I go anywhere with you?? No.

Freaky Deaky Annoying Asshole DO NOT CONTACT: come onnn y/n, i know you want that cookies and cream milkshake, with that caramel in it.

Oh hell no…

He got me bruh. That sounds so freaking good right now. Lord are you watching this bullshit, cause he got me. He got me real bad with this one. But I won’t do it, I won’t say yes. As God as my witness through the holy eyes of JESUS I will NOT say yes.

I hesitate, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. I will say no. I will hold my ground.

…But that milkshake sounds so damn good. Lord if you’re watching, I’m sorry.

Me: Fine, but you’re paying for everything I get, not joking.

Freaky Deaky Annoying Asshole DO NOT CONTACT: don’t worry about my pockets, I got you, princess.

Me: Ew, don’t call me that.

Freaky Deaky Annoying Asshole DO NOT CONTACT: see you in 5, princess. (with a stick up her ass) meet me in the lobby.

I almost laugh but catch myself. I quickly go back to locking in with my nonchalant face.

Me: Something ancestral in me hates you… but ur paying so idc about that rn. I’ll see u soon.

And with that, I close my phone, and I go to the sink to wash my face really quick, Goddamn, the redness in my eyes is still there. My nose red as hell too.

Oh well, maybe he’ll feel bad and buy me extra stuff. Who cares.

Man…who am I kidding, I feel like a joke.

I walk out of the apartment and take the elevator down, purposely making him wait ten minutes instead of five because I don’t like him and want him to wait. That’ll show him, yup!

I laughed to myself in the elevator for doing that. Petty? Maybe. But it makes me smile. And for the first time today, something feels a little lighter. It felt nice to laugh.

The doors slide open, and there he is.

I see that dumbass face, looking at me with his tattooed hand tucked into the pockets of that stupid leather jacket. Those annoyingly well-fitted Calvin Klein dark blue denim jeans too. And that damp, curly mullet hair shining under the shitty lobby lights. And that annoyingly charismatic, mocking smile with big eyes looking straight at me, and—

STOP IT Y/N. Yo I hate this dude so bad, on my SOUL.

"What are we gonna do about you, Miss 'I-took-10-minutes-just-to-be-annoying' diva?"

“Buy me a YSL bag, that’s what. Now can we just fucking go.”

“Oh, Y/N..you should know I loooooove when my women get all feisty and mad. I can work it out with them very well. Angry sex is the best, you know.” He winks.

I hate him.

SO. MUCH.

“Jungkook, I’m not in the fucking mood right now. We either go or we don’t. I’m not dealing with your fuckass bullshit right now. If you’re gonna do this with me, I’m gonna leave and I’m not playing.”

His smirk falters just slightly. His expression changes from teasing me to a locked jaw with his tongue in his cheek, he looks to the side. Then, after a beat, he exhales, and turns his face back to me with an expression that made my guts feel weird.

“Let’s go.” He says, already walking towards the back entrance to where the parking lot is at, not waiting for me.

I run to catch up with him, but he has his back towards me.

His shoulders are broad, I like how when he moves, his jacket flexes.

OH FUCK NO! I’m lying. I do NOT like that.

Focus, Y/N. You hate him, you always have.

As I trail behind Jungkook toward his car, I can feel the tension rolling off of him. His usual playful arrogance has shifted—his strides are a little too purposeful and his hands flex slightly at his sides.

When we finally reach his car, he opens the passenger door without a word, and just turns around and reaches his arm out, I stop dead in my tracks, blinking.

The HELL? Genuinely what the hell is he doing.

I thought he was going to make like some dumb, snarky remark at me, but nope. He’s dead just standing there reaching out, waiting for me. His eyes flicking toward me but I can’t read them.

I step cautiously forward, narrowing my eyes and taking his hand. “…Don’t be on some stupid shit bro. I don’t fuck with that.”

His tongue once again pokes out against the inside of his cheek. “Just get in, princess. Wait, my bad. Y/N.” His voice is low, almost annoyed, but there’s something under it I can’t really place.

I do as I’m told, sliding into the seat with his help, still watching him kinda dumbfounded. He then shuts the door a little too hard which makes me jolt.

BOYYYY imma yell at him.

He then walks around, and gets into the driver’s seat without looking at me once.

My stomach feels so weird right now, fluttering in waves.

This feels weird, it feels like I just got myself into something I won’t be able to walk away from all of a sudden. The hell is going on.

I’m in a pickle. I’m in a reeeallllll pickle for sure.

[thedragonagelesbian]

@isayashai replied to your post “I should write smthing......”:

kyr x sosiel sketching/painting fic 👁 ? cyrus x halsin cuddles? 👀

​wahhhhhhhhhhhh thank you <33333 yes much to consider.. it's not a full fic, but you inspired me to write a lil something for kyr & sosiel!!

Wrong. And wrong again. Paper crumpled, charcoal smudged, one hand heavy and aching, the other still a fist wrapped around the ghost of Graham's collar, both trembling in the wick-thin light of the guttering candle.

Another sketch. Another scowl. Tore the page from his sketchbook, tossed it aside, and tried again.

Grapes on the vine turned to strips of whipped, peeling skin.

"Sosiel..." Eyes like his own that he could not recognize no matter how many times he drew them, dredging warmth up from the recesses of his memories only for it to turn cold at the tips of his fingers. Again, again, again, he had to get it right-- "Sosiel."

Kyr's voice was sharper the second time, but it was his hands that broke Sosiel from his stupor, palms cool against the fever pitch of his cheeks. Sosiel blinked, and suddenly he was in the study again. In his body. Sore from base of his skull to his knuckles to the pit of his empty stomach, stiff even in his thoughts as he looked up at the Knight Commander.

"What is all this?"

Sosiel realized for the first time that he had destroyed half his sketchbook in one sitting, desk and floor alike littered with his failed attempts.

He shuddered.

"A foolish endeavor, nothing more."

Kyr glanced down at the last thing Sosiel had drawn: a man whose smile had become a snarl despite his every effort.

"Your brother?"

"Trever..." Sosiel couldn't say his name in anything other than a whisper, the kind of frightened prayer that came at the end of the world. "A-as best I can remember him, but I can't... I see him so clearly in my mind's eye, as the good, kind man I knew him to be, and yet every time I try to draw him, the image is distorted. As if my hand knows that it is a lie. And now when I try to think of him, it all blurs together. Everything that the Hellknight told us, all that vile cruelty taints my memories."

He spoke faster and faster, as if trying to catch up to that memory of Trever before it slipped from his fingers entirely, words and images spilling.

"If I forget him now," tears bleeding together, suddenly slow, "the only thing left will be a monster."

And Kyr. Aeon. Judge. A dhampir fit for hating other monsters. Would do his duty if they found him.

And would that not be justice?

"It will not be the only thing." There was something in Kyr's voice. A slight, hesitant quiver against his usual dry deliberation. "Remember what Halaseliax told us: as long as someone is alive, they can still change. Trever still has that. Will always have that. The possibility for redemption."

Whatever Sosiel had been expecting Kyr to say to comfort him--perhaps nothing at all, perhaps his wounds were not worth tending, made to be borne alone--it was not that.

Not after Kyr had warred with himself so bitterly just to let one cultist leave Terendelev's lair.

Sosiel looked up at him through watery eyes. "Do you really believe that?"

Surely you of all people must believe that we can all change for the better.

I have not changed.

"Yes." Kyr's thumb traced the tears along Sosiel's cheekbone. "I am trying to. Believe. In this, in second chances and salvation and choosing to be better. We will give Trever that chance when we find him."

These sketches--messy, brutal, unforgiving toward subject and artist alike--had made for poor worship of Shelyn. As, it seemed, did most of Sosiel's drawings these days, dwelling on the mutated flesh of Areelu's lab and the Ivory Sanctum. Whatever faith he still nurtured, a seedling of beauty tucked away, preserved but hidden, it flourished now. Not as any fruit or flower, something that would inevitably spoil and rot, but evergreen, pine needles all the more beautiful for the snow their boughs supported.

"Thank you..." Sosiel's voice broke with his body, unable to sit upright any longer. He crushed himself against Kyr instead, too feverish for his usual worries about impropriety. Instinctive, safe, hopeful as he nuzzled the other man's chest. Listened to that death-slow pulse beneath his shuddering. "Thank you, thank you."

It took a moment--it always did--but Kyr wrapped his arms around him and held him tight. "You're welcome."

[blade-liger-4ever]

Blade, call me weird if you think I do,but is it just me or some people pair Ratchet/Optimus, Megatron/Optimus, Airachnid/Arcee, Optimus/June,Knockout/Starscream or with Arcee and Knockout/Breakdown because let me tell you something... It is stupid especially when done in fanfics half of these pairs have no romantic chemistry at all, while two of the pair with Optimus and June and Ratchet are more of out respect(June a bit of admiration even, because she wore heels to make a good impression as she didn't have the chance to do so when she had her first visit) and brotherhood(Ratchet)

I don't get it and the other pairs especially Airachnid and Megatron are bitter enemies that caused pain

And some ship Prowl and Bluestreak because they read the Covenant when in reality they are brothers and have an unbreakable bond, it really irks me how people can't differentiate between romance, bromance and platonic or professional relationships

You are not wrong, and it is very, very, very stupid.

To be honest, the biggest reason people make up these ships is because of a number of factors, but I'll focus on the main two factors.

The first is that people - at least in certain circles - are incapable of thinking in anything that doesn't revolve around sex. I know it's blunt, and I'm sorry if I scared you, but that's the truth. They're gutter-brained people who have no concept of the notion of brotherhood, sisterhood, strong friendship, etc. I'd like to say it's because they've never had a true friend before (it's a partial quote from C.S. Lewis, I believe; he was excellent at making deductions like that), but it may just as well be an addiction to sex/anything perceived as romantic. These people I find are literally incapable of seeing the characters for the heroes and friends/brothers/sisters that they are, or just do it because they're not satisfied by that simple familial fact. And if that's true, about them being unsatisfied, then they're in for an eternity of suffering if they don't wake up and correct their mistakes.

The second reason is also an obsession towards sex...but it's in the sense of "these two being enemies must mean they're in love, and it's hot". I wish I was joking, but that's a big reason they ship the enemy pairings. They, for lack of a better term, get a high off of such ideas, and never bother to think "no, this is a clash of morals" or such similar things. Because in their minds, it simply must be sex related because the people shipping them have no lives and just want to live out their fantasy through the characters.

That's my view of the matter, and until I am proven wrong about why they do this, well, I'll just keep the block button at the ready.

[jerzwriter]

Sweet Start

Book:              Open Heart (Post Series)

Pairing:           Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Kaycee MacClennan)

Rating:            Teen +

Words: 1,050

Summary: Ethan and Kaycee start her 32nd birthday off with much to look forward to.

A/N: This will be leading into a big week for these two! I hope you enjoy!

Ethan x Kaycee Masterlist My Full Masterlist

The warmth of the morning beamed through the skylight and helped to nudge Kaycee awake. Snuggling against her pillow, she pulled the soft, down comforter over her shoulders and smiled. She wasn’t ready to wake up yet, but she was much happier than she typically was in the morning... especially before being caffeinated. Today was her birthday, the start of her thirty-second year. Most people believed it was the start of a vacation for her and Ethan, and they were right, of course.   But they knew they were only a few days away from so much more, and she loved sharing such a delicious secret with him.  

She dozed off again so she didn’t hear when Ethan entered their bedroom. He quietly approached the bed, holding a fine china plate with a decadent cupcake placed on top. He playfully held the plate in front of her nose, wondering if the sweet scent would wake her. When it didn’t, he had his answer. In the age-old question of what Kaycee MacClennan loved more, sleep or sweets, sleep had proven to be the victor. Nevertheless, they had a big day ahead... big days ahead... and it was time for him to wake her.

“Good Morning, birthday girl,” he sang, still standing over the bed.

With her eyes still shut tight, Kaycee broke into an adorable grin. She contemplated telling Ethan to hop back into bed; since it was her special day, he probably would have listened. But her nose picked up on the scent of the treat awaiting her, and that took precedence.

“Mmmm... do I smell something yummy,” she hummed, her eyes still shut.

“Why don’t you wake up and see?”

One eye peeked open, and when she saw the cupcake in front of her, the other quickly followed suit.

“Is this breakfast?” she asked.

“I know,” Ethan chuckled, “I usually wouldn’t approve... but... it is your birthday, and I want you to indulge in your every desire.”  

“Really,” she simpered. “Then you’re doing this all wrong.”

“I... I am?”

“Shouldn’t you be serving me that naked? I believe that’s how it happens in the movies.”

“Oh really,” he laughed. “Which movies are you referring to? Not the ones where a plumber or pizza guy will arrive any second to complete this picture?”

Kaycee jumped up, brushing her messy tresses from her face.  

“Ethan, whatever do you mean? My mind does not live in the gutter. Well, at least not this early in the day.” 

She grabbed the cupcake from the plate with the enthusiasm of a child and licked a large dollop of the icing off the top. She let out a slow groan Ethan was used to hearing in very different circumstances when the sugary concoction coated her tongue. His mind began to wander as she gently breathed, “Oooh, this is sooo goooood.”

“Hmmm,” Ethan smirked, sitting beside her on the bed. “Ironically, that was the next line in the movie I was referring to.”

“Is it?” she laughed. “So, does that mean I should expect the plumber-slash-delivery? Tell me, are they hot? Like Ryan Gossling or Margot Robbie hot? Because, if so... we could make this my bachelorette party... after all, I only have a few days left as a single woman.”

“Oh really,” he growled, suddenly not appreciating the joke he had started. “You may be a few days away from being married, but you’re not single, Dr. MacClennan!”

“Easy there, tiger,” she teased. “You started this nonsense, not me.”

She placed the cupcake on her nightstand and turned around quickly, pushing Ethan against the pillows. Her arms encircled him, squeezing so tightly that he let out a small gasp.

“All jokes aside, can you believe we’ll be married in just three days!”

“I know,” he chuckled as she squealed adorably at his side. “It’s hard to believe. It’s even harder to believe that almost no one besides us knows!”

“Hey, don’t jinx it!” She warned. “We already caved in and told our parents.”

Ethan ran his hands along the soft skin of her arms, delighting at the goosebumps that formed as his fingers traced circles over her flesh.

“That was the right move,” he insisted. “Our surprise wedding is a brilliant idea... but our parents and Naveen... I feel better not blindsiding them.”

“Me too, and not only because my mother would have killed me if she didn’t get to pick out what she would wear.”

“I’m shocked your mother hasn’t told anyone else yet. Not that she’d do it maliciously. I just figured she’d be too excited.”

“Oh, she is,” Kaycee assured. “But Dad threatened her.”

“Threatened her?” Ethan asked with a raised brow. “With what?”

“With that cruise, she’s always wanted,” Kaycee laughed. “All joking aside, I know it’s hard for her to keep this from everyone, but she knows it’s what we want. All she wants is for us to be happy, so she’ll honor our wishes.”  

“That’s good to know. Well, we have a lot on our plate in the next few days, but today’s your birthday... and it’s all about you... So, what would you like to do?”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Kaycee smiled. “You.”

“I’m sorry?” he chuckled.

“Oh, I’m not,” She bit her bottom lip as the corners of her mouth morphed into a smile, flipping over on top of him. “Are you telling me you don’t want to do me, Ethan? On my birthday of all days?”

Ethan’s eyes went dark as the playful expression on his face all but disappeared. With one quick movement, he nudged her legs apart with his knee. Surprised, Kaycee fell on top of him, giggling when she felt all the proof she needed that he wanted her as much as she wanted him pressed firmly against her lower stomach.  

“I’m glad we’re on the same page,” she teased.

“Turn the ringer off your phone,” he spoke gruffly into her ear. “You won’t want birthday calls interrupting what I have planned for you.”

Kaycee was eager to comply, reaching for her phone so quickly that she nearly fell from the bed.

“Now, what do you have in store for me, Dr. Ramsey?” she purred.

“Making sure your thirty-second year gets off to a rousing start.”

“It already has,” she whispered as his lips fell to her chest. “It already has.”

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

[melrosing]

btw love your Jaime takes! Was wondering what your thoughts on his dream of Rhaegar with Brienne? i personally find it fascinating and super important for his development.. his family meaning Cersei and Tywin are toxic influences he must leave behind so that he can grow as his own person while Brienne clearly plays a role in this. I also find it sad to see his regret and guilt about the death of Rhaegars family. Can’t help but wonder what the glowing swords mean? Do you think he has a role to play in the long night? I feel like he might but there’s also the valonqar prophecy to consider?

a jaime question we are back in business!!!

I have a lot of thoughts on Jaime's weirwood dream and maybe more than I can contain within one ask but here's my rough breakdown:

section one where Jaime finds Cersei, Tywin & assorted Lannisters I think quite straightforwardly these are the people that Jaime once thought defined who he was: his father, his sister, and the name they all share. but he finds himself quickly abandoned by both Tywin and Cersei who offer him no comfort, and leave him Naked and AfraidTM with no Lannister strength or support. He's effectively just one man in the dark and all that he had left to give his life and identity meaning is gone

section two where Brienne shows up Jaime finds meaning in Brienne!! when he'd lost all strength, hope and dignity, Brienne practically raised him from the dead by demonstrating all he could be and recalling what he had once wanted to be - he finds both his past and future self in Brienne. we also see a supportive and reciprocal relationship between them that was absent with the Lannisters - Jaime frees Brienne from chains, Brienne helps Jaime through the dark. and the dark is gone now: there's new clarity and hope since Brienne has arrived. and obviously we see Jaime's developing feelings for her through 'she could almost be a beauty/she could almost be a knight/it seemed to Jaime she had more of a woman's shape now' - like he's seeing her for the first time again since his 'rebirth' in Harrenhal, and is starting to put together new feelings without quite understanding what they are yet.

section three: Rhaegar and the lads firstly: think it's interesting that Jaime first mistakes Rhaegar in the distance for Ned. we'll come back to that.

but anyway I think the conversation with Rhaegar and the OG kingsguard is Jaime perhaps fully acknowledging for the first time how much that ~fateful day~ in King's Landing truly pains and guilts him - it's not something he can laugh off. we've only up till then seen him confidently state that killing Aerys was the best thing he ever did, and since hearing his side of the story the audience now agrees -but the KG's words show that Jaime still has a confused sense of guilt over it, and has not forgotten Rhaegar's kids either. he still cares about doing the right thing, and feels crushed by the idea that when he was given the chance to do it, perhaps he chose wrong.

I also think it's v interesting that Rhaegar's kids are prominent here, especially considering the earlier appearance of Ned which I think is interesting twofold. first, I think Jaime thought Ned had no right to judge him but that the KG do. second, I think that Ned's children are the new Rhaegar's children. granted Jaime has done a pretty fucking appalling job of 'protecting Ned's children' so far (like he almost couldn't have done worse lmao) BUT they are now what I think will take Rhaenys and Aegon's place in his mind. perhaps he can do right if he can save at least one of those kids. this right now is his second chance.

what do the glowing swords mean all sorts i reckon. hope. honour. legacy. life. I think Jaime's sword guttering out at the end of the dream isn't a foreshadowing of his losing his life at any particular time in the future, but rather the sign that right now, he has nothing to keep that flame alight - Rhaegar and co condemn him to darkness as they tell him he's done nothing to earn the light, and Jaime, in his panic, wakes up. and knows what he has to do to reignite it - hence rushing back to Brienne.

I don't think the valonqar prophecy comes into it because this was something that GRRM added at the VERY end of writing AFFC so it wouldn't factor into the weirwood dream in ASOS. I don't know that the dream suggests much about the long night either though I do think he'll have some kind of role??? depends what the TLN ultimately looks like but I am sure that GRRM means to reassemble the majority of the main POVs there and Jaime will surely be one of them, as will Bri.

[gking10]

Liveblogging TMAGP 12: Getting Off

Must. Keep mind. Out of gutter.

I'm assuming "Getting off" means getting off from work? But why is the fact whatever happens happens after someone leaves work for the day so important, it's the entire title of the episode? Is the incident going to be about the victim trying to get off time, like they are mystically trapped in their job and unable to physically leave?

CAT1RB4728-09032024-13032024 Mascot (kids) / frenzy [insurance claim]

Oh. Bonzo is about to commit war crimes. That's cool, I guess. Getting Off as in getting off from responsibility? That would fit with the incident being taken from an insurance claim. I like how one of the incident elements is literally just "Bonzo".

3:32 Sam got a date! His crush is adorable. Celia saying she's busy with something does bring back into question just what exactly is going on with her though...

4:59 - "I think I’m done with Magnus stuff." "...because I'm diving headfirst into Ink5oul stuff" is what I'm expecting to come next.

6:12 - "Site Address: Soho Jack’s, 9 Carlisle St, London W1D 3BK Affected Employee: Ms. Jordan Bennett" An address and name, you say. What was Ms. Jordan up to that the OIAR wanted to sic Bonzo on her?

6:53 - "Assessment Conclusion: Claim Denied. Reason: Fraudulent claim (see incident description and police report)" That sucks. Imagine being attacked by... whatever Bonzo is, and you don't even get compensated for it. Or, I guess your family doesn't get compensated for it, because Ms. Bennett is probably not alive anymore. That does make me think, where does the idea of Employer Liability come in? If Bonzo was just some intruder that came in, Soho Jack's Ltd wouldn't be charged with liability, right? Maybe for negligent or inefficient security. Or something as mundane as the company having to failed to fix a door that Ms. Bennett needed to escape through during the Bonzo frenzy.

7:03 - "I’ve been advised by my lawyer that I should cooperate with your insurance claim, even if I am suing your asses to kingdom-come." Hmm. So Jordan Bennett is alive? The wording on this confuses me a little. If Jordan is the one writing this, why is she the one cooperating with the insurance claim, shouldn't she be the one requesting the insurance claim? Is it clear I don't know how insurance works?

7:14 - "I could apologize for the handwriting but since it’s your damn fault I won’t bother." So I think this is Jordan. And her hand and/or arm was injured during the incident. I don't think the OIAR would just want someone a bit injured, and I don't think Bonzo would willingly settle for that. So I don't think Jordan Bennett was even the name in the envelope. She just got caught in the crossfire.

7:25 - "I started working at Jack’s in the spring of ‘21 after finishing The Flair Academy six months earlier." Huh, a dance academy. Although apparently it's a dance academy in New Jersey so I might have the wrong Flair Academy.

7:46 - "Jack’s has dances on the bottom two floors with VIP suites for hire above with a dedicated bouncer keeping them separate. Really, it’s just a quieter box with a private bar, some comfy chairs and the option of private dancers." For a second I thought I might have had the right Flair Academy and Jordan could have moved, but Jordan is just tending, not dancing, so it could still just be a fictional Flair Academy in the UK. Private dancers? Is my mind still in the gutter or is sex work actually being talked about here? The more I look into it, the more I think that's the case. The place is called "Soho Jack's" and was also called THE Soho Gentleman's Club, and Soho does apparently have a history of being a big part of London's sex industry. There also seems to be a prominent LGBTQ+ community in Soho, but something that's called a "gentleman's club" seems less like a queer space and more like a spot for snobby wealthy people. There seem to be 2 real prominent locations on Carlisle Street: The Piano Bar Soho, which describes itself, and The Toucan, a pub with no food. And if there's no food, what's even the point. You could not pay me to go to a pub with no food. Granted, I don't go to pubs and bars in the first place, but still!

8:03 - "It’s always booked up with swank dickheads trying to show off, but Stags are the worst: they’re cheap, they’re loud, they drink too much, tip too little and only ever hire one dance for the groom. Plus there’s always some “nice guy” that won’t shut up about exploitation without even bothering to stop staring ." Yep, this is about sex work. And wealthy people full of themselves do come here. And Bachelor parties, apparently. Can we talk about why on earth it's a "tradition" for a Bachelor party to involve going to club and paying a sex worker to get you off? Why its sometimes described as your "one last night as a free man". Actually gross behavior. Also I thought they didn't do tipping very much in the UK? Maybe its different in clubs, I don't know.

8:41 - "Then the groom spotted the last one on the table, this cheap yellow and purple kids lunch box." I think the groom was the name in the envelope. This is a Mr. Bonzo lunch box, isn't it? I guess Mr. Bonzo is yellow and purple? Mr. Blobby is yellow and pink, so its close enough.

9:33 - "But hey, it was their night, if they wanted to spend it on some cringy nostalgia trip, who was I to say no?" I mean, it is the most wholesome thing a bachelor party could be doing. I say let them have this.

10:48 - "I was just reaching for my walkie to call for a techie when I heard this massive crash from the room followed by this cheer from the party." Realistically, they should be terrified by this. But I guess that's just the influence of Bonzo. Are they going to keep cheering even as Bonzo starts dismembering people? Part of the incident categorization was frenzy, and I thought that just meant like a frenzy of people trying to flee from Bonzo but... Is the bachelor party going to start ripping each other apart on Bonzo's command? "a bulbous figure with a purple hat" He's got a hat? Dapper Bonzo.

11:47 - "I was pissed. Not at them, they didn’t know any better but at Joey the doorman." So the liability claim is about poor security.

12:09 - "There was a pair of heavy boots on their side, poking just inside the still open doorway. Joey’s boots, and they weren't moving." And Joey is lying dead just outside the doorway... "Just then the goggly eyes looked turned to me, and a puffy finger raised cheekily to it's mouth." Is that supposed to be Bonzo's way of going "I didn't do it, teehee~"? What a loveable scamp. I'm kidding, burn him with fire.

12:42 - "I could hear that same godawful tune blaring from the tinny little speaker" Oh, that's even worse than the Bonzo music continuing to play even after turning off the speakers.

13:25 Somehow, I'm less unnerved by the arm ripping than I am unnerved by the description of Bonzo unhunching himself over. He's just such a... creature. If I had to put Bonzo under a TMA Fear, he'd go under Slaughter, I think. He's got an association with music, even if it is just his theme song, his public image was transformed by a serial killer, and while Slaughter isn't what I immediately jump to when I think of "the fear of being abused on a shitty prank show", it is a form of random violence if you think about it. I wonder why Jordan didn't get caught up in Bonzo's spell. Was she just too separated from the event? Or is it because Bonzo was before her time? Does Bonzo's compulsion rely on nostalgia in some way?

13:51 - "Then the two hands jerked apart unfolding the groom’s head with another flowering explosion of blood." Why does the OIAR have this guy do hit jobs again? Like sure, Bonzo sure can murder a guy, but it is messy. Not covert at all. I guess the idea is someone being killed by this children's mascot is such an outrageous idea, no one will think it is real? Or that Bonzo's compulsion would just make people ignore it? Again, what did Baz, the groom, even do to get a hit called on him? He just seemed like a normal guy.

14:18 Not quoting that. Absolute not. I do not want to hear about Bonzo's boils and pus.

14:40 God, that is visceral. And then Bonzo just ate the mutilated body. Remember when I put him under Slaughter? Add some Flesh in there to maybe, the sheer gore of it all is just... ugh... And what's worse is all these men are literally bludgeoning and stabbing Bonzo and he doesn't even flinch. They literally can't do anything to save their friend. Bonzo isn't even getting angry at the attacks. It's literally nothing to him.

15:00 - "He’s here to stay… He wants to play…" Chills. Fucking run.

15:17 - "Slowly, awfully slowly, it raised its head, titling it coquettishly to one side." Don't do the fucking cute head tilt! You are not a cat! You are an abomination!

15:28 - "Then the seams across its face split revealing it’s gaping maw filled with even larger, sharper teeth" Ever loving Christ... They are really doing everything in their power to make Mr. Blobby horrific and it is working 16:32 - "I don't know why nobody outside the room heard or saw anything, why the cameras weren't working, why it let me live. But I do know why they weren't any bodies." I guess all that points to why Bonzo is used as an assassin, if he can keep the nightmare he puts you through self-contained. There weren't bodies, but was there any blood? Or did Bonzo just like... lick all of it up? I don't even know...

17:06 - "Jesus Christ…" Are you proud of yourself, Gwen? Is this really what you want to be a part of? "I go by Alice now, actually." Queen.

17:23 - "Wow. Are you, like, actually ok?" PLEASE just be friends. PLEASE. Alice is relenting, she can literally see Gwen is in a very bad spot. I just want these two to stop escalating against each other.

18:11 - "You never wonder what the point is? Who benefits from all this awfulness?" That's the running theme. Will you willingly look at all the terror and dig at its root, or will you just turn a blind eye and tell yourself it isn't your problem. Maybe Gwen thought she needed to become more directly involved just so she could know. So she could get a fully uncensored look at what is going on behind all of this. Even if it meant directly contributing to it.

18:32 - "…the UK government" Technically right, but not the time, Alice...

That's the episode! And I'm still unsure about the title. Who got off? Soho Jack's from compensating Jordan? Or is the idea of whose getting off on all this terror and suffering? Who's benefiting from it and why and how? I'm unsure...

[confessionblog]

hate how im ending up. everyone seems to be great at doing their own thing but suddenly when i want to make friends and actually share project ideas i just feel... agh, i dont know, like its just the world's biggest nono ever. i wantt o talk to my mutuals more. i want to do more art, i want i want i wantt o be more open. but it feels like even the slightest steps of that just hurts.

my avoidance has been kicking my ass recently. and it still hurts. i dont talk to anyone much anymore, much less on online spaces. i fantasize about having friendships, proper, full friendships, but wheneve rthe chance of it pops up for me to do, i just can't handle it; and so i watch as everyone else around me goes on with their lives.

it efels like whatever i do isnt worth it because of one glaring issue upon many, but mainly the fact that i feel like there is something wrooong with me whenever i do anything. the shame, the embarassment, the slow sadness i have. everything feels stupid to do. i am a loser, and whenever pepole try to say its not, i know theyre lying. i want to be a loser in peace.

i wish being a person wasn't so hard. having to deal with societal conventions is tiring enough being autistic, but now i have to get a job, interact with people, get money, try not to die or something. its too much work. i want to do something with my passions and make people heard, but its just tiring at the end of it all. so maybe i can throw my dream in the gutter anyways

maybe ill end up dying. quiet. maybe my friends will forget about me. thats for the best anyways

I truly resonate with this. Self isolation sucks, and especially in this economy, where every activity costs money so it's discouraging to leave the house, on top of everyone that may be like you having this problem, so you really never know where to find like minds, or you're always looking in the wrong place. Online, real life, it doesn't matter, connection is more difficult than anything. Ironically enough, you are not alone in your lonliness. And, until you die, you will never "end up" like anything. This isnt encouraging you to die, but rather emphasizing that you still have time to change and be proactive in your life. Share your projects. Scream to the world that you're alive and someone will hear and scream back.

[ahmedmootaz]

[Spoilers for Canto 4 of Limbus Company and all of Lobotomy Corporation]

Ya know, for being neighboring corporations, K Corp and L Corp are awfully. They are so similar down to how they first obtained their signularities from well meaning caring people in the outskirts who ended up being transformed into the the singularities whose aim was to help cure people and who ended up turning into something other than human. So similar down to whose respective companions ended up mourning them and who ended up discovering that they secreted a potent green glowing liquid that could kill you in its raw form form but could serve as very useful and very powerful products after refinement that they became Wings and sell them as products well enough to financially fund themselves for years and run an entire District. So similar down to how said person turned singularities have bits of themselves seperated from the main portion such as a branch or an eye serving a similar role found in the branch facilities of the company being used to create more of the said liquid. So similar to how both Ayin and Stephanette originally had good intentions helping people only for the companies they established based on the wishes of the person they cared about getting all twisted and becoming just as cruel as the rest of the City. And so similar to both how things go down the gutter once Ayin and Stephanette die where the Dias and Alfonso, girl bosses who care more about profit and power than the original benign goal of helping others, take their place and are more than eager to exploit the hell out of the Singularities.

Lots of similarities ain't it?

Dear Anonymous,

I honestly wonder if it was intentional, to a degree. Perhaps some Wings rise with benevolent ideas at first before their owners die/are killed and those who take their place aren't exactly as...charitable.

After all, we know that Carmen, while unique, wasn't the sole person to feel something was wrong with the City. She was simply the first person Ayin knew to act on this feeling. Maybe there are other 'Carmen's, if that's the way to put it, who managed to reach the top of the City, becoming Wing owners like Stephanette did, but even if they managed to keep their morals without compromising, there's no guarantee that their successors will keep those same morals, as Alfonso did.

Although the other similarities with the colour references are quite striking...I want to say that this must reference something, but I also wonder if an artist at PM just thought 'yeah this looks good' and we're looking too deeply into the colours, but the theorist part of my mind says that it cannot be a mere coincidence...Though, I suppose we will find out later. Or maybe never, if PM decides that it doesn't want to address these similarities. Oh well, that's what 'Fics are for.

Still, I thank you for bringing up these intriguing similarities, Anon, and until next time, be well, take care, and see ya'!

[observer-on-duty]

Nancy was scanning some of the new reports on her desk. Ever since that mysterious email from that Robert guy was sent her way, they had been buzzing with activity in the Bureau. However, everything in this place made her more confused.

So far, from what she could have translated, the bottom level was a place of worship, for the "Creator" of these beings. The beings themselves were far more grotesque than what anyone in the Bureau has ever dealt with. They deal with corpses on a daily basis!

One of the beings, lovingly given the code of A-1, looked like it was rotting away. It made loud, gutteral screams and spent time hitting things around it. Its body had several places of broken, unset bones by how much it threw itself into destruction. Its broken teeth were permanently bared, and it used them excessively. It was aggressive in every way, and was too dangerous to send personnel individually to the location. However; it was blinded by rage, smelt like death and rotting, and was loud as all hell. Making it incredibly easy to hide and track its locations on the premises.

The next one seen on the cameras and footage was one that was only seen in a few rooms. It sounded so lost and sad on the recordings. Its whole body was covered in possibly self-inflicted, or inflicted by A-1, wounds. It was given the code A-2. Although it was incredibly malnourished, it was just as dangerous as A-1 when provoked. However, it seemed more remorseful of harming others, thus making it considered safe for the personnel to travel around it. If no one bothered it, it didn't bother anyone else. However, when watching the clips, A-1 screamed off camera, causing A-2 to run and hide away from the more dangerous entity.

There was a third one, well, only a glimpse of a third one. It was a shorter one. It wore shadows like a cloak, and was gone in the next picture. This one was called A-3. It was intelligent enough to avoid recording equipment, but it was just in that one picture.

This was only three of the original seven Robert told her about through email. Nancy had already set up an interview in a public setting with him, but something..... Something wasn't right. Something felt incredibly wrong.

Something that was above the Bureau's level of expertise. Nancy was ready to confront the CEO of the Bureau for some answers. The folks that dealt with the Backrooms would be more capable. Hell, she'd ring up O5 Council if the CEO gave her the opportunity. She didn't feel the static that came from the Anomalies she dealt with, Nancy felt disgusted, like she rolled in the mud and went to bed, kind of disgusted.

The Bureau was spread thin enough between their current investigations, but she couldn't get the CEO to actually listen to her. So caught up in her thoughts, Nancy didn't notice the appearance of the Intruders, not until a bony hand touched her shoulder. Nancy let a small smile out, and placed her hand over the Director's. She turns and looks at them, reaching out to grip Huge Man's.

"What are we going to do about this, guys?" She asks. "This is going to cause so many issues, and so much loss. But the CEO refuses to send in the people who are licensed and trained for this!" Nancy was never a very emotional human, but this was just too much on her. The Director was the first one to pull her into a hug, before Huge Man brought both of them to his lap. She cried and let loose all the frustration that had been building up in her body.

Once her mind was back in place, she pulled away, looking at the Intruders with a flushed face.

"How about we take a break and get something to eat. My treat." She chuckled as their eyes lit up. She needed something in her stomach, and a glass of water after a good cry like that. And if these documentations wound up forwarded to the O5 Council, without the CEO knowing? Well, that was just between her, and the two Intruder Anomalies, who would always have her back.

[plasticross]

==> Talk to your....self?

White knuckled, you grip your mirror, milky, useless eyes as wide and owl like as always. You can't help but chuckle, he looks just like you. Your reflections reaction was told to you through pattern like words, swirling around in a square shaped spiral that wrapped around the curves of my. his. your face like a form of bookish echolalia. As always, the light hums lowly into your ears from the expensive bulbs that never endingly glow through out your house. The description was all wrong however, despite your clenched teeth and flaired nostrils, you stare back with bright, energetic eyes. A toothy smile with a gap between each tooth. The reflection wears your face as it taunts your silent frustration as you look for any proof that it wasn't you.

"Why him!?" You say, your knuckles attempting to somehow grip harder than you already were. "WHY ME?! I HAVE ASKED FOR NONE OF THIS." Your voice is hoarse, but it usually is. Worn out from half shouted sermons passionately ripped from your throat from some unseen force.

No one asks to be what they are, no one asked to be born.

"NO ONE HAS A PHONE LINE TO THEIR GODS TELEPHONE," you yank, forgetting for a second that no one is actually there, and pull your bathroom mirror open. Cheeks turning pink from the embarrassment, you slam the mirror shut, hoping that it'll shatter into a million pieces. But no such luck, he returns to look at you with a pout.

You really will like him. Just give it time, and you will see. Have I lead you astray before?

He You shake, mouth pursed tightly as you stare at this animal wearing your skin, his large eyes, his gnashing teeth, blink cutely as he assumes this is any sort of convincing. It is. Maybe. He hasn't led you astray.

But you never asked to be led. You never asked for this life or this man, or Pepper, or any other stepping stone he crushed and broke your feet while laying down. You never asked to be a priest, a mother, a sister, a nun, an angel, or anything but to be allowed to breath. To dance. God you wanted to dance. And he laughed and smiled and danced around you, humming like flood lights and singing electric songs that burnt your eyes worse than the sun. He made you like him before you were ready, he made you see letters instead of people, he chose for you, and if you didn't listen then....

You yank the mirror, nearly ripping it off of its hinges, and begin to slam, over and over, your mouth clamped shut, silently and violently. The wall shakes from your force, your perfumes rattling and falling off their organizational shelf until the mirror shatters in your hands. Half of the pieces clatter to the floor, while the rest desperately cling to the glue.

Taking a step back, you hear a piece of glass shatter under your weight and thank god that you are wearing your boots- before realizing that, that was likely his doing as well. You stumble back, sitting on the edge of the tub, nervous system high strung, blood boiling. You bend in on yourself and let out a gutteral scream into your lap, shoulders shaking from the force.

"What the hell is your PROBLEM?!"

The bathroom door flies open. You ignore him, but you stop screaming, embarrassed by your outburst you choose to run away into your mind instead, your arms shifting to hide your face from your boyfriend.

His face is twisted into something between irritation and concern, as if he were angry at first, before realizing that it was more serious than first assumed. Like usual, Peppers nails find his way in his mouth as he quickly trots over to your side. He stops when his shoes make contact with the glass, and he only takes a small look at the mirror. Your self destructive tendencies have already be come like second nature to him.

"Cylo, dude, what is-.. okay..." He runs his hand through his hair, and then places his hand on your back. "You're all quiet right now probably. Right? Just.... We'll talk about it in a sec. Catch your breath man."

You resent how he talks to you, that uncomfortable wilt in his voice everytime you have an outburst like this. All it did was remind you how much further up you are than any peony left on earth C. Your issues were undescribable, unrelatable. The only thing people can truly do is watch as you burn for their entertainment, the light from that eye burning you to a crisp.

"Y'know. For a guy who can't see himself you sure break a lotta mirrors." He lightly kicks a larger piece of glass.