#like. because of adonis being a time god. his age is fucked up a bit yet Galicia is born “somewhat” normal so he'd have a shorter lifespan

[lillazyboithings]

Still no fandom art from me but I finally had the motivation to redesign my old ocs and draw this artwork for them

The one in the portrait is Adonis, the older brother, and the one with the beanie who's scratching up the portrait is Galicia, the younger sibling.

[creppersfunpalooza]

Rosé

CW for under the cut: body horror and suicidal thoughts, attempted suicide (multiple), violence, verbal abuse, abusive relationship, manipulation and abandonment

Rosé, formerly known as Roe was born around 1899 and grew up in Louisiana. He grew up as more or less of a spectacle, considering both his effeminate appearance and albinism. He had always been fond of attention and just show business in general, so he didn’t entirely mind this lifestyle even if it was thrusted onto him at an early age.

As a young adult living in the roaring 20’s he tried to make a name for himself as a model and really played into his unique attributes, leading him to feature in several popular newspapers, magazines, and other things like that. While he was attractive, he was still considered more of an oddity than a person and was often dehumanized (revered and belittled) because of this. He felt like he couldn’t really make any real relationships with people because he was seen as more of a concept or character than someone with actual feelings and aspirations.

Adonis (“Don”), is the god of beauty, vanity, and lust. for some background about how gods function in this world, they’re kind of like the greek gods where they have dominion over certain concepts but don’t manually control them unless they really feel like it. like it’s sort of subconscious to them. like breathing. a concept cannot exist without a god, so there’s a lot of them. also gods can have multiple titles and take over the titles of another god if the god is stripped of their power. The god of death/the end (who i’ll likely be renaming to lih’ka or lih’kat) is typically in charge of judgement of the gods. there are very few rules but the main ones are just don’t interact with mortals because it can’t end well and don’t show bias towards a particular mortal. also gods can incarnate and live among mortals as one of them but they will never live up to their concept because it won’t exist for them while they’re a mortal. like for example when incarnated, Evolen, the goddess of love and (healthy) relationships (created at the same time as Adonis, they don’t get along well.), will never be able to experience genuine love or have a good relationship with someone, whether that be platonic or romantic.

Adonis, however, doesn’t enjoy godhood. He finds his equals uninteresting and is much more fascinated by the concept of mortality. Because of this, he occasionally breaks the rules to have brief interactions with mortals under the guise of being one himself. He does this as a taxi/limousine driver for whatever reason. It just seemed fitting. He never establishes connections with the people he picks up, just has little talks with them and such. It’s a nice change of pace for him. no he doesn’t know these people are used to paying for being driven around and yes he definitely got confused when the first few people asked him what he charged. Adonis typically never goes to the same place twice because he’s immortal so it’s like. if you get him as a driver once when you’re like 20 and then again when you’re like 50 and it’s the same memorable guy who has not changed at all it’s a bit suspicious.

So one day, Rosé (going by Roe at the time but using Rosé as a show name) gets into a taxi and lo and behold, it’s Don’s. The two connect pretty quickly as Roe sort of vents to him about how he feels like he’s never on the same page as anyone else and Adonis is like “wow he’s just like me!!!��. Roe is also noticing how this guy is actually taking what he’s saying seriously and isn’t ogling him and wow that’s a first for him, so he asks Don if he’d like to meet up sometime. Adonis, for the first time ever, decides “fuck it” and agrees. yeah buddy maybe you shouldn’t do that the rules are in place for a reason.

So the two grow close and eventually get into a relationship with eachother. Roe’s still oblivious to the fact that Don’s a god, however he’s a bit concerned about how he’s never been over to Don’s place and sees him like monthly. Eventually, Adonis tells him the truth and Roe actually takes it pretty damn well, especially for someone who grew up catholic and then likely switched over to atheism. They start spending more time together and Adonis even takes him to the ethereal realm (where all of the gods are) a few times (the gods do not know about this).

That’s all pretty neat and they’re doing pretty well, but something happens (likely a different god got caught breaking a rule and got punished severely) that made Adonis a bit paranoid about everything. So naturally, he decides “hey i know this has never been done before and might not even be possible, but what if i transferred some of my mystical god power stuff onto you so that you and i wouldn’t have to hide our relationship because you’d be like. a god too” and roe’s not like a huge fan of that idea because they’ve been together for like two years and that’s a big commitment. no godhood before marriage. but after a LOT of convincing, he finally agrees to Adonis’s plan that probably won’t even work.

It’s painful. Every part of it is painful. The initial surge of magic rushing through his veins, coursing through his soul and overwhelming every part of his mind and body. Tearing apart at who he once was and replacing it with something new and foreign, something that was never meant for a human to experience. Something he couldn’t possibly have handled. After the initial shock wore down, he felt sick. Maybe it was just a cold. Maybe the worst of it was over. Maybe it hadn’t worked. He wanted to believe it hadn’t. He was bedridden for days, he could barely even move because of the pain he was experiencing. After a few weeks, he was able to move again, but his skin was always condensed with clammy sweat. He could feel each individual cell in his body, rearranging and adjusting to make way for new ones. Everything in his apartment was so fuzzy. He was so cold. Every day he questioned if he would even survive it. He secretly hoped he wouldn’t.

Adonis didn’t visit for another month. When he did, he was obviously concerned. Roe seemed so much more distant. He wouldn’t let him inside of his apartment, but he wouldn’t leave it either. Roe felt too sluggish and weak. Don tried to help him by bringing him gifts and medicines, but nothing seemed to really help. They were still able to talk to each other, but something about it seemed to lack authenticity. It just seemed hollow now.

After the first few weeks, Roe’s skin cells began to rapidly deteriorate and flake off. Every inch of flesh itched and burned, but he could do nothing to stop it. No ointments helped. Painkillers didn’t provide relief either. His skin cracked and peeled, and yet he was still as clammy as ever. Clothes irritated his body as well. He had to stop going out of the apartment all together after that. Adonis’s concern grew, but he couldn’t do much. Roe couldn’t help but feel frustrated with Don. Adonis found every possible way to berate him or blame him for his state (“have you not been taking care of yourself?”, “you look like a mess”, “what would you do without me?”). He didn’t want to start a fight, he was tired and Adonis was just trying to look out for him.

The more time went on, the worse things got. Roe became irritable and snappish as his agony became unbearable. His eyes had become warped and his irises moved fluidly and shifted in the whites as they took on a new shape. The flesh around his ears had almost flaked and melted off like wax and soon the cartilage became frail and brittle, before snapping off entirely. His abdomen had begun experiencing a similar change. The skin had rotted and his liver and stomach was beginning to fail and shrivel. He could consciously feel every bit of it. At this point in time, he had given up. He didn’t care what it would take, he just wanted the pain to stop. It didn’t matter if his life would never go back to how it was, that wasn’t his goal anymore. He just wanted an out.

He tried several times, several methods. His violence and panic increased with each attempt. It was only after he’d punctured clean through his gut that he realized he couldn’t even escape through death.

Roe’s fights with Adonis got worse too. Adonis always tried to act righteous, never taking blame or responsibility for Roe’s condition. Adonis hated to admit it to himself, but he didn’t recognize his partner anymore. Besides Roe’s now sickening appearance, he had also grown bitter and resentful. He seemed miserable, even when Adonis was with him. He snapped at Adonis often.

Adonis grew tired of having to put up with Roe’s behavior. He’d been so patient. He’d tried to be understanding, but everything he did was met with passive aggression or a scoff. He couldn’t just give up, he did love Roe, even like this. Roe was lucky to have him at all. Lucky that he’d stuck around and seen things through, even when he looked like a corpse. Who else would ever give a fuck about some has-been freak show with no real friends or family? He was there for him, but nobody else would ever be.

Roe knew he was right. Why would anyone give him the time of day? If he was a freak before, he’d probably be chased down with pitchforks and torches now. Or pinned down and locked up as a medical mystery. There wasn’t anywhere in this world that he could go. Adonis had taken that away from him with his humanity.

He stopped fighting back and arguing, he was too tired. He didn’t want to be mad at Don. He couldn’t help it. Every time Roe saw his face, he was only reminded of what had been taken from him. He entered a depressive spiral even more so than before. The little ridges on his back— the new bones, had broken skin now. It hurt to move, to breath. He was used to his body rearranging itself by now, and yet it still found new ways to torture him and keep him on edge. He couldn’t sleep anymore either. It was impossible to lie in bed without a surge of pain waking him up every few minutes.

Adonis kept visiting. He thought things would be better now that Roe had finally stopped acting hysterically, but somehow this was even worse. Roe just looked pathetic. Defeated. It was irritating. Was he ignoring him on purpose? How much pain could he possibly be in? He wasn’t screaming after all. Weren’t mortals supposed to scream and cry and bitch when they got hurt? he couldn’t understand why Roe was still acting like this. It had been almost a year. Why wasn’t he healed yet?

When the skeletal frames of several pairs of wings started growing, his mood flared once more. He was definitely screaming now, sobbing and breaking down. His finances had worn too, he didn’t know how much longer he would be allowed to stay. He hadn’t left his apartment in a year. He’d given up eating what seemed like forever ago. He wasn’t the only one yelling anymore though. He and Adonis had regular screaming matches, throwing curses at each other. It was something he’d never seen from Adonis before. What’s worse is that afterwards, his boyfriend would go back to endlessly trying to comfort him after he grew exhausted from the crying and fighting. Meaningless apologies. An inescapable cycle.

Pin feathers. Prickly little fucks lining where his ears once were and the new bones on his back. His back felt constantly weighed down by them. His body weight was entirely off-balance considering both the wings and the fact that everything between his ribs and pelvis had entirely rotted away and decomposed, leaving dysfunctional intestines hanging limply and coiling down in the cavity that had formed internally in his waist. His spine was the only thing stopping his body from splitting in half.

That’s probably when Adonis realized just how horrific he had become. This thing wasn’t his partner anymore, it was a rabid creature masquerading as something sentient. A monster. What he had tried to do had failed. He felt guilty, of course he did, but with the way Roe was acting, why should he stay? If all that Roe would do was scream and cry and sob, why would he stay? He had tried and tried, it wasn’t his fault anymore.

And so he left. He stopped visiting all together. Stopped bringing things, stopped giving Roe the bit of company he had. When the realization hit Roe, his initial reaction was one of self-loathing. If he had tried a bit harder to be more considerate, just a bit harder to imagine how Don must have felt after—

After what? After he’d ruined his life? After he’d successfully stripped Roe of the few things that brought him joy? After he’d abandoned him after making him suffer for so long?

Why the fuck should he feel responsible?

His transformation came to its end shortly after Adonis left. A month at most. It was almost ironic. If he had stuck around for just a bit longer, everything could have been different.

He wasn’t himself anymore, that was what Adonis had been right about. He was filled with rage. His mind was so much clearer now that the pain had subsided. Spite and hatred overran every inch of his being. Disgust, too. He wanted nothing more than to rip Adonis’s head clean off of his body.

But he couldn’t reach him. They were still on entirely different planes of existence. Not to mention, Roe wasn’t nearly as powerful as him.

Not yet, anyways.

Roe adjusted to his new form and abilities. When you’re wasting away for a year, you’re eager to finally feel alive again. He found that he was able to drain people of their energy and power to add to his own. He could control the emotions of the people around him and manipulate their situations without them even knowing! He finally felt in control.

Years went by. The great depression started and ended, wars passed by like bullets, generations shifted and changed. He stayed stagnant, never aging or taking his eyes off of his goal. He learned to use his powers more sparingly and more spitefully. He even discovered how to concentrate bits of his magic into love potions and began to sell them in exchange for having just a teensy bit of someone’s life force and/or magic drained.

he’d managed to make himself a nice little pocket dimension, a domain only capable of being entered if he permitted it. It was a nice replacement for his old apartment. It was surreal being able to make something out of nothing. He’d grown a reputation for himself in the right circles. He didn’t really care all that much that his “business” was probably ruining the lives or relationships of other people. Hell, that was the goal. The more he meddled with the affairs of other people, the more likely Adonis was to come down and confront him. Plus, it was really funny. He knew that the relationships he set up were doomed to fail. He counted on it.

anyways fun facts about rosé and adonis!!

- Rosé is cajun and can speak French!! he’s actually bilingual and speaks French and English. he also can speak Spanish. being immortal gives you a lot of time to practice.

- Adonis has changed a lot and definitely feels hella guilty abt everything but like. he knows better than to come down to apologize because he learned his lesson abt being around mortals. he’s actually rlly bent out of shape over the whole thing and is like “why the hell did i do that”. i don’t forgive him tbh!

- Rosé has a HEAVY Louisianan/New Orleans accent

- Rosé mostly listens to old swing and jazz music, however he also enjoys some modern day stuff. Like his playlists are probably wild.

- Rosé’s favorite foods are crepes and shrimp creole

- While they were dating, Rosé and Adonis’s relationship was very fluffy and decently healthy before everything went downhill. apart from like “wow he understands me” when one of them is a literal god and the other is a dude who just wants to be accepted by society

- Adonis’s relationship was never discovered by the other gods. they don’t really know what caused his shift in behavior.

- Adonis and Evolen were the first humanoid gods, most before them had inhuman forms that represented abstract concepts. After their creation, most other gods took on more humanoid forms with the exceptions of Lih’ka and Akh’ala (God of creation who i might rename later). akh’ala has a humanoid form but only uses it from time to time.

- Adonis still has feelings for Rosé

- Rosé is convinced he physically can’t feel love towards anyone anymore (he can he’s just really specific with preferences and also isn’t mentally ready for another relationship)

- Rosé was born intersex but identifies as a man. He enjoys dressing and looking feminine though.

- Rosé is omnisexual with a male preference

- Adonis is pansexual

- Rosé started going by Rosé after his transformation as a way to separate himself from who he was before, sort of like turning over a new leaf.

- As mentioned in the text above, Rosé sells love potions. Because it’s technically his magic, they’d have no effect if he were to drink one.

- Rosé finds it hard to connect with or feel empathetic for other people.

- Rosé, while existing in the same universe/story as Koi and all of those people, is not part of the main storyline at all. He’s his own separate thing for separate things.

- Rosé’s magic is extremely powerful and difficult to break. He is one of the only people who can break it once it’s in action besides Adonis.

- Rosé really likes the colors red and pink.

- Rosé has been dying his hair pink since the 1910’s.

- Rosé has a love hate relationship with modern day appliances and fashion. he doesn’t like microwaves. they’re fucking scary. what the fuck do you mean waves in their air heat your food with radiation??? what???? it baffles him almost as much as the clean girl aesthetic.

@whumpy-wyrms here’s that rosé post :3

[depravity-n-savagery]

Imagine being someone who writes smut stories, and you're dating Eddie.

He'd definitely read them to you. 😏

‎♡‧₊˚ Eddie Munson x (fem)Reader - 18+ smut blurb

⊹ ੈ♡ — — — — — — — — — — — ₊˚ ‧₊ ๑ ˎˊ˗

You try to hide the hobby from him at first. Embarrassed because you think he'd be freaked out. Especially if he finds the stories you've written about him, filled with sexual fantasies and scenes of things you wish he'd do to you in reality.

Then one day he's looking through your bookbag while you use the bathroom. Just to copy some of your notes for class. Instead he finds THE notebook. Dog-eared right at the end of the most recent short story you wrote about him. It was absolute filth. All the rough treatment that you were too shy to ask for. The dirty words you longed to hear him say to you. The positions. The passion. It surprised him how much it all turned him on. Knowing his seemingly innocent girl was a lot hornier than she let on.

So he has an idea.

By the time you came back into the bedroom, he was standing at the foot of the bed with your notebook open in his hands. It felt like all the blood drained from your body, and your heart sunk into the pit of your stomach. Oh my god. He probably thinks I'm so fucking gross now.

Until he starts to read. Out loud.

"He stood there, looking sexy as ever. Like the new-age sculpture of a Greek deity. Soft skin over hard muscle, like carved marble. To others, he was plain and even repulsive. To me? He was an adonis."

He read your words like they were highly respected literature. The way one would perform Shakespeare (minus the old type of accent). That part didn't surprise you. You were used the dramatic ways he told stories during his Hellfire campaigns. Still, there was something about the way he bled seduction into the delivery. It kept you nailed to your spot by the door. Frozen as he continued with a grin.

"I really like this part here." He said, guiding his eyes to the proper paragraph with his index finger on the page. "Nobody felt pleasure in giving pleasure the way Eddie did. He could give it to you softly as a gift, or wield it roughly as a weapon. Attacking your clit and holding it hostage until you surrendered. Taking you out with a deep whisper of encouragement." His voiced dropped in tone, dripping with sex. "There you go. That's my good girl." Ghh

It made your heart race, throbbing in your chest, ears and another area that was beginning to feel very neglected. "I- Eddie, I can explain. I never meant for you to-"

"To find this?" Eddie held the book up, closing it but keeping his thumb in place so he wouldn't lose the page. He closed the distance between you, and softly kissed your lips. So chaste it felt out of place, given the words he just said to you barely a minute ago. "Sweetheart, I'm not upset or weirded out. Is this-" He gestured with the book again. "-the kind of stuff you really want from me?"

It was impossible to lie straight to his face. You've never been able to do it, even before you became a couple. So you bit the bullet and nodded your head slowly.

"Why didn't you say so? All this time I was taking it slow because I thought you wanted it that way. You never seemed fully satisfied. But from what I've read so far... I could've been fucking your brains out for months now."

He reached behind you and closed the bedroom door, locking it so his uncle wouldn't open it whenever he got in from work. The book was opened again, and flipped right to the start of the first smut scene. "Get on the bed, baby. We've got a lot to catch up on."

♡ A/N: Couldn't get this thought out of my head 🤣 So here we are. It ALMOST became a full smut fic, but I just didn't have it in me. If anyone else decides to use the idea for a fic though, tag me. I'd LOVE to read it! ~

Masterlist, Ao3

[neverforpickles]

Works that I personally adore and have read more than once. Works that felt like a love letter in different stages of my life. I am recommending them to you. I hope you’ll understand why when you read them.

7 Up

|cherrystreet|Explicit|51K

“Very loosely based on the British TV show "The Up Series" and somewhat inspired by the song “Something I Need” by Onerepublic, we follow the lives of Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson in an interview setting every seven years. They fall apart and come together, their lives and emotions recorded. Harry calls it a time capsule. Louis calls it a pain in the arse.”

A Love This Strong

|rainbowsandgucci|M|10K

No one, fell in love, because that’s how They wanted it. That’s just how it was, and that’s how They wanted it to stay, and it did. Until Harry and Louis came along, and, of course, fell in love.

Dance Like Waves Along the Wind

|maroonmoonlouis|E | 17K

“What are you doing to me, my liege?” the God of the Sea murmured as he slid an arm around Louis’s slender waist.

Louis’s breath stuttered and his grip on the ruby red apple tightened just as Harry’s did around his body.

“I am hardly your liege, in this relationship,” he whispered out, tilting his head up to gaze at Harry’s imperceptibly dark eyes.

“No?” Harry inquired. “Am I not at the mercy to follow your every order? To cater to your every whim?”

Louis’s lips parted as he swallowed thickly, Harry’s eyes tracing his bobbing Adam’s apple intently.

“Are you?” were the only words he could get out in response before Harry was dipping down to press a heated kiss against his lips.

Or a Greek Mythology AU where Louis is Adonis and Harry is Poseidon. Louis would really like to move on with his everyday life without everyone on Mt. Olympus talking about his ex, who just happens to be the God of the Sea.”

The Green Room

| JasTheLarrie | M | 112K|

“For the last time, go away! This is fucking harassment, you know that? I’m well within my rights to call the cops.” Louis wished he could have hidden the tremor in his voice. He knew that it was thick with emotion. He was frustrated, angry, and beyond devastated.

“Uh…”

That was definitely not his ex's voice. Louis froze. Who had he just sworn at?AKALouis has just been through a bad break-up and accidentally verbally assaults unsuspecting flower delivery man Harry.

AKA“Louis and the Incredibly Compassionate and Also Really Handsome Florist”

Compass to my Soul

| LadyLondonderry|Teen|31K

“Harry Styles, alpha, is 1/4 of the perfect pack, and 1/5 of world famous boy band One Direction. He spends his time touring the world with his best friends and family.Louis Tomlinson, omega, is 1/5 of world famous boy band One Direction. He spends his time hoping his bandmates don’t notice him.”

sun rise in your eyes

| loubellies | E | 21K

“Prompt 175: AU where Harry is a human prince that Louis, the fairy prince, has always admired from afar. One day, Harry notices Louis and Louis offers him some berries. Harry, forgetting the age old rule that you shouldn’t take food from fairies, eats the snack and is immediately shrunken to Louis’s fairy size and is now subject to live in his world while trying to figure out a way to return to his human form.”

happier, prettier

| @outropeace | E | 40K|

“It wasn't that Harry hated Louis Tomlinson. He was just a Broadway kid who got insanely famous thanks to some silly videos on an even sillier app, got a label contract, forgot about his roots and now he was pretending to be a pop star. He didn't even mind that everyone was actually buying his act of being sweeter than honey. It was that Harry knew that game too well — he was inside it after all — he knew how fake people could get and how manipulative they actually were.

So no, it wasn’t that he didn’t like Louis, it was that he reminded him of everything he didn’t like in a person. Louis reminded him a bit too much of... her.

 Or, they were supposed to hate each other, they were supposed to do their job. At least they got one of these things right.

Red Camilla

| lthsbluegreener | teen | 25K

“Dainty hands work effortlessly, stitching together a cotton dress. The most demanded tailor in Weloric, an omega that is feared whose past is a thousand flames setting him ablaze and charring his inner workings meets an alpha that earns fear from the Welorians. Will he be able to smother the flames before they scorch the delicate being?

All the kids at school

| LikeYouAreInLove | NR | 4K

“Are you sure that you two aren’t dating?”

Louis forces his gaze away from Harry’s scrunched face and looks to Nick, already rolling his eyes, “Yes, Nicholas, we’re sure. There are these neat things called 'friends', perhaps you’ve heard of them, and me and Harry are the best kind and best kinds of friends don’t screw each other on the sly. ”

Or, Getting voted 'School's Hottest Couple' when they aren't actually a couple complicates things a bit.

when we made love, you used to cry

|ExiledQueenCatalog|GA| 4K

“Harry and Louis are on a break, when Harry gets a call from the studio of the who will be a millionaire asking him to help Louis with his million-pound-question. or Louis goes to the who will be a millionaire show to win back Harry

plot twists - i didn’t meant it

|sunflower_lwt(o_a)|GA|3.7K

“Louis rants about shit sofas and bad music taste and rude hipsters at a house party. Harry is the host. Written for the Secret Larry Valentine exchange - February 2021”

We Are Inevitable

|mmargarita | E | 16K

“What’s the second flaw?”“The second inevitable flaw in your plan is:” Louis stood straight and walked towards Harry, grabbing his chin. Harry’s breath hitched. “Us.” Louis smiled. “We’re inevitable, baby. We’re soulmates, and we both know it. You just need to come back to me.”

Lunar Waltz

|outropeace| E | 56K

“You want me to seduce an alpha,” Louis hissed.

“I want you to marry an alpha. It’s the only way I could ever get back on my feet. You didn’t think a few dances at a ball would do anything to Alastair’s reputation or mine...”

“And what if Alastair comes back? Have you thought about him in all of this? You’re going to marry him to an alpha he doesn’t even know!”

“Oh he does know him, in fact... he’d be ecstatic to know he got to marry him.”

Louis’ blood ran cold, already suspecting who was the alpha the earl was talking about.

“Who is he?” he asked anyways, hating how fragile and almost scared his voice sounded.

“Lord Harry Styles.”

Louis' stomach dropped, the words came smelling like danger, sending a bolt of fear down his spine, the Earl wanted Louis to seduce The Duke of Death. 

Or Louis has to replace his (missing) twin brother and marry one of the most dangerous alphas of the kingdom.”

The Devil In My Brain

|princesshalo|E |74K

“Jesus Christ!” Louis yells as he jumps back in reaction to Harry once again popping up out of nowhere.

Harry doesn’t even flinch.

“Quite the opposite.” He jokes, holding out one of the drinks for Louis to take. A freshly sizzling vodka Red Bull; his favorite.

Louis’s initial reaction is the thought you remembered.

His rational brain says, “No thanks.”

“Louis.” Harry says it like a concerned parent, the tone of it matching the way his mum used to say Boo Bear, you have to eat your vegetables to grow up big and strong, and that ignites something feral within him.

“Satan.” He counters, same tone coupled with a glare and a pair of arms crossed over his chest.

- Louis used to be good friends with Harry, until he woke up alone and immortal with no one to blame but The Devil himself.”

Our Lives, Non-Fiction

| @indiaalphawhiskey | E | 113K

“Heralded as the next Neil Gaiman, Louis Tomlinson does not appreciate being told that his very serious novel is in dire need of a PR boost. Even worse, that it comes in the form of a joint book tour with the UK’s #1 online romance-writing sensation Marcel Styles. Already turbulent at best, their partnership takes a drastic turn when, overly stressed about his looming deadline, Marcel accidentally blurts out a secret: though he’s famed for his scorching hot literary love scenes, he is, actually, a virgin.

Convinced that the only way to rid himself of writer’s block is to gain some experience, Marcel asks Louis, author-to-author, to sleep with him – for Science. And of course Louis agrees because, well, what on Earth could possibly go wrong? 

Or, a lesson in romance that proves that sometimes the best love stories aren’t always by the book.”

Moi Je Crois Aux Histories

|nogunsmanyroses |Teen | 12K

“This stranger is breaking every unspoken rule of society, and Harry has no idea how to respond to it. It’s not that he doesn’t like people, it’s just that he doesn’t feel too much for small talk. For any talk, actually. His mom says it's because he overthinks every word he wants to say, and while she might have a point there, he’s adamant to ignore this with every twenty-three years old bone in his body.

“I’m … Harry.” There. Look at him being social and engaging in conversations.

“Well Harry,” Louis says as he fully turns back towards him. He leans back against the wall that separates the sidewalk from the water of the river, one leg crossed over the other. He’s the picture of soft comfortableness with his hood pulled over his head and brown strands of hair peeking out in every direction. “Do you want to go somewhere else? Since …,” he finishes his sentence by waving aimlessly in the direction of the Tower.

Or: the race that ended with a broken elbow fic that no one asked for.”

there’s nothing to be afraid of

| louishun | E | 23K

“Louis. He's perfect, and why hadn’t Harry executed this plan earlier? This is far preferable to the messes he’s had before. He’ll dote on Louis, spoil him, and there will be no worry that Louis will steal his secrets, leave him—do any of the disagreeable things he’s had to worry about previously from other lovers. Louis will be his, trained exactly to Harry’s preferences, and he will be the better for it. Once Louis learns to listen, he can have anything he wants—anything within Harry’s reach... and, as the mob boss who all-but rules England, that’s a considerable reach indeed.

But, first, Louis has to learn.”

spinning in my highest heels, love

|loulicate |E | 2K

“Harry fucks Louis because that's how it works - confirmed by Bene :D”

We’re What’s Right In This World

|BriaMaria | E | 48K

“Why did you talk like that in Brighton? If you weren’t planning on ever telling me?” Louis asked.

“Is it because you think you’re going to die?”“It’s war, Lou,” Harry said finally. The words were a knife slipped between his ribs. Everything hurt and he was bleeding. He shifted up, his palms cradling Harry’s jaw, his lips against his boy’s. Not kissing, just resting there, so Louis could feel him. “Promise you’ll come back to me.”

Harry’s hands smoothed down the sides of Louis’ body. “You know I can’t do that. I’ll never lie to you.”

“Promise me. We’re going to have our cottage. And our dogs. And our breakfast in the garden where nothing grows because of the wind from the sea. Promise me.”

“I won’t.” Stubborn as always, his boy. “I’ll promise you, I’ll love you all my life. I’ll promise you, you’ll never leave my thoughts. I’ll promise you, you’re my forever and my always. But promising you something I can’t cheapens the things I can.”

-Or the World War II AU where Harry goes off to fight and all Louis wants to do is be the boy who brings him home.”

dirty laundry looks good on you

|tomlinvelvet | E | 50K |

“When Louis Tomlinson finds his clothes lying in a sad soapy mess on top of the washing machine in which they are supposed to be, he acts upon his anger and retaliates. What he doesn’t expect is having to deal with a six-feet tall, curly-haired and dimpled man in return, who seems to arouse confusing feelings within him and to make his life take an unexpected turn for the better (or worse?).

OR; the utility room is a great place to fall in love. ”

The Lost Art of Breeding and (Mis) Behaviour

| @indiaalphawhiskey | E | 13K

“Strip, slave.” His voice was rough – stern, as a proper Master’s voice should be. Harry couldn’t help but feel pleased. “I could have had five of your kind for your price. Best make sure I’ve not been cheated.” 

-- Or, Harry learns a thing or two about fate and faith.”

Gloria Regali

| @traviscrux |NR | 100K

“I am very proud of you," Louis admitted, his eyes displaying his conviction, "you are very brave and ridiculously determined."

Harry looked at him, as he shook his head, reaching out to his hand, he held it, "Trust me, it is not enough."

"What makes you say that?"

"Because if it was, you would have been married to me."

Or Louis shouldn't have burnt his soulmark without telling his soulmate.”

Shadows Come With The Pain …

|hlftanna| E | 51K

“Thanks, Ni, I guess I needed to hear that,” Harry sighed and wrapped his own arms around Niall and squeezed him tightly not caring if Liam would be mad. He missed Niall so much.

“Does it really come as a surprise to you that I’m right? Shaking my head, Haz. You should know me better,” the brunette teased.Harry giggled again.

“You know Hazza, you really are so different to all the other alphas out there. You’re soft, caring, cuddly and sweet and those damn dimples. So freaking pretty, it’s almost annoying. I would hate you if you weren’t my best friend. You’d really be a brilliant omega. Nature really did a number here,” Niall mumbled. It was his turn to smash his nose into Harry’s neck and Harry was extremely thankful for that because he wasn’t sure he had his facial expression in check at all.

Or a Band AU in which Harry isn't allowed to be who he really is and the North American Tour might bring some unexpected truths into the web of lies and also a bit of heat that has very little to do with the summer in the US.”

Sigh Softly

|aalexandravictoriaa|GA|800

It was an unconventional nest, to say the least. Quite inconvenient too, not that Louis would ever dare admit that. The fact that his omega was nesting could only mean that he was pregnant and Louis’ chest rumbled at the mere thought. Harry stirred from his perch, blinking his eyes open at the sound of his growling alpha. Louis shushed him immediately and tucked him back into the safety of his nest. Louis just so happened to make up the majority of said nest.

They're Creepy and They're Kooky

|crack_rock |GA | 3K

Her dad turns back to the black cauldron sitting on the stove with a quiet smile on his face. He’s such an ass. A severed hand starts stirring it for him while he turns to chop cilantro. She changes her mind, it’s most likely dinner. “You know, while I was shopping for bibles for the fire-pit outside,” Jesus Wednesday thinks, no pun intended, “I ran into Timmy’s mother, she seems very nice.”   Or, the one where the Addams family is actually the Styles family. An ongoing series.

Only You Can Be My Alpha| @wubwubnparmaham | M |196K

In a world where one was either an Alpha or an Omega wolf, Louis found himself in a body that could be neither. Born an Omega without the expected characteristics of one, he felt broken, choosing to live as Alpha a lifestyle as he could. Harboring a serious lack of respect for Alphas and their authority complexes, Louis managed to get himself banished from his home, forced to wander the unforgiving woods for years, facing the elements and fighting enemy rogues each time they arose. Unbeknownst to Louis, in a tribe to the southwest of his home, there lived a dysfunctional Alpha, the orphaned pack leader Harry, who had never felt satisfied enough with anyone to settle down and continue his royal line. Living their lives apart thus far, the both of them assumed that they might be alone forever, making the best of things despite this even though it hurt. Chance, luck, or maybe fate brings Louis to this tribe when he’d least expected to receive kindness and shelter from a stranger, and when he arrives, something in his soul pulls him to Harry like a raging river current. The two don’t get off to a good start, but everyone around them can sense the chemistry—and in time they do too.

Waiting For Daylight|@dinosaursmate|E|12K

“The number you have dialled has not been recognised. Please check and try again.”Louis made his way into the kitchen and sighed, throwing his phone down onto the table and frowning at it.

“What’s the matter, honey?” his mum asked.

“I… I don’t know. My phone seems to have erased every last trace of Harry.

“Ooh, who’s Harry?” she cooed. “A boy?”

Louis rolled his eyes. “Harry, Mum. Styles. From number thirty-eight.”

“Oh, sweetheart. The Waynes live at number thirty-eight. Shall I pour you some tea?” - Louis wakes up to find that his best friend has never existed. In a quest to find him, Louis is sent to several parallel universes. He can't seem to find his own Harry, and he doesn't understand why every alternate Harry wants to kiss him.

I didn't wanna fall

|defenceless|GA|13K|

'Flowers bloomed when he walked. Angels sang when he talked.' I heard this line way back once in the radio and the first thing that came to my mind was you."

Harry lends his coat to Louis. When Louis is home, he realizes he still has Harry’s coat and finds Harry’s iPod. Out of curiosity, Louis looks through Harry’s music and finds a playlist titled with his name.

If I had no love to give

|@kingsofeverything |E| 30K

Small town restaurateur Louis Tomlinson needs someone competent to work in his kitchen.

Chef Harry Styles needs a job.

let me carry your weight |@soldouthaz |E |28K

louis is fresh out of a bad relationship with someone who made him feel awful about how he looked. on his journey to better himself, he meets harry - the ridiculously attractive and fit personal trainer.

For As Long As I Can Remember

|@greenfeelings |E|128K

After recovering from a severe accident that causes Harry to lose his memory of three years, he moves to London to start his life over as a star chef. Little does he know that when he falls in love with Louis at first sight, it’s not the first time they meet.

Featuring an unintentional game of hot and cold, Harry chasing memories that won’t come back, Louis burying himself in work to try and forget what he can’t forget, Liam being torn between two of his best friends, Zayn as a moral compass and Niall saving the day with good music and brutal honesty.

Flightless Bird | @audreyhheart |E|97k

AU where Louis Tomlinson is a principal dancer with The Royal Ballet. When his rival from ballet school, moody dance prodigy Harry Styles joins the company, old wounds are reopened and old passions reignited. During the company's production of Swan Lake the secret that doomed their love is finally revealed, but will it be too late?

gathered on wings

|Brooklyn_Babylon/@twopoppies|E|32k

As Harry lay by Louis’ side, covered in sweat and come, he knew he should feel ugly, messy, ruined, like the life he’d left behind. But something about the way Louis looked at him, the way he stared at him with want and awe, made Harry wonder if he’d ever feel this beautiful again.

Harry rolled his eyes at himself for his momentary romantic dreaminess. As good as this was, he knew it was nothing more than sex. He literally couldn’t afford to fall for just anyone, no matter how fit they were.

What Harry Styles wanted was to be taken seriously as an artist. What he needed was a new sugar daddy to pave the way. Louis Tomlinson is an artist who isn’t what Harry is looking for. Somehow he still manages to turn Harry's world upside down.

billow and breeze (island and seas)

|@pleasing-louis|E|102K

“It was bright; that was the first thing Louis could recall. With a groan, he winced at the throbbing behind the sockets of his eyes and rubbed his temples in an effort to soothe the pain. Maybe he really did hit his head when he took his tumble. The omega squinted as he looked at the surrounding rolling hills and fog hanging over the countryside. As strange as it was, the world felt different, though it looked practically the same.

Disoriented and confused, Louis padded through the moss and listened for his husband. “Liam?” he croaked shakily.Nothing but a symphony of woodland creatures met his ears. His footsteps were muted by mossy green grass beneath his feet and soil fragrant as he neared the crest of the hill. At the top, he froze, lips parted in horror and eyes widening at the expanse of empty farmland—not a soul in sight. It had only been less than ten minutes prior that he could see Inverness from the crest, but now there was nothing.

“Impossible,” he whispered to himself, shaking his head in disbelief—his mind not quite able to make sense of it...

Or the Outlander AU where Louis wakes[…]”

Paradise

| @traviscrux | NR | 66K

“When he reached him, Liam was taken back at what he witnessed. "What is happening to him?!" Harry asked, relinquishing his anger and moving towards the beta.

Leering at Harry, "He is dropping."

"I thought only omegas dropped." Harry asked confused.

"Exactly! Only omegas do!" Liam clarified, letting the actuality of the situation dawn upon the Emperor.

Alpha Emperor Harry Styles of the province of Imperium had conquered more than half the country of Cynthia in his six years reign but all of this had even occurred due to the unwavering loyalty and firm presence of Louis Tomlinson who was assuredly a beta until he wasn't.”

Smells Like Omega Spirit

| @lululawrence | NR | 11K

Louis is an omega doing a test run on neutralizers for a class project. Every time he talks to Harry he smells completely different.

Harry is an alpha who can't figure out if he's going crazy or his sense of smell is broken, but all he wants to figure out what Louis' real scent is.

Somehow they figure it out.

you fit me better

| docklands / @hershelsue |E|3.8K

Louis moves back to Cheshire with no prospects and lacking a laundry machine for his apartment. At the laundromat, he meets Harry, a meddlesome alpha who smells divinely enough to ease his anxiety. When Louis goes back home, he finds out he switched clothing with Harry, meaning he needs to meet him again to give it back.

love’s a risk

| @solitudeandchaos |E| 26K

Harry made life clearer, he made Louis happy, he cancelled out the complications and made Louis feel secure. Louis hadn’t ever had that and he was sure he didn't want to lose it.He just wasn’t sure how to keep it.

or harry and louis don't really know each other but end up married while in on holiday in Monte Carlo

Aphrodisiac

| @aimmyarrowshigh | E | 4k

“The day he made roasted asparagus tips wrapped in Serrano ham with lemon aïoli, Louis knew: Harry Styles was trying to seduce him.”

a whole world of beautiful | l.s

| starsofhazel | NR | 11K

“Drafting words on blank paper like stars on a night sky. Placing and connecting them into constellations that encapsulate infinities and shape galaxies of paragraphs into their own universe.

The writer is the magician. The magician that forms worlds. The magician that manipulates words. The magician that has the power to take and twist and transform the mind. The magician that has the magic to make something out of nothing.

The writer is the dreamer. The dreamer that believes in the lost, the broken, the hurt, the beautiful.

But most of all, the writer is the one that sees us. Understands us. Believes us. Speaks for us. Maybe even is us. Perhaps even more us than we are.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

In which Louis pours his heart into letters that he leaves in books, and Harry falls in love with the letters that he finds in books.”

From the Start

| @allwaswell16 |E | 32K

Louis has no idea that one act of kindness will cause his life to spiral out of control. But that's what happens when his new friend fake proposes to him and a video of it goes viral.

tarnish but so grand

|tilthesundies|E| 32K

Louis hides in places. Harry always finds him.

Liberte

| @harryanthus-annuus |M | 64K

AU. 1647. “Pretending you don’t have a heart is not the best way to not get it broken. It’s just the easiest.”

Or the pirate AU I always wanted to write

Say Hallelujah, Say Goodnight

|@alivingfire |E| 110K

Louis is an angel who is just a little too bad to be good, Harry is a demon who is just a little too good to be bad, and they're both a little too in love to be impartial when angels and demons go to war.

Louis has been alive since life was a mere concept; he watched the summoning of Man into existence, he was there when Eve took the apple. He’s seen seas break the world into separate pieces, he’s watched empires crumble into dust. He’s seen wildfire consume cities, he’s seen the world painted white with snow. He has known the most beautiful humans to walk the planet, he has watched the most powerful mortals gather their riches and influence around them and then die just like the poorest, weakest humans do. He’s met humans whose motives defy explanation, people who use their lives as battering rams, as tools, as weapons, as chess pieces.

None of that stopped Louis in his tracks.

But Harry did.

Gentle Rogue

|@juliusschmidt |E|15K

“Well?” Tommo prompts. “What the hell are you doing aboard my ship?”

Harry grins, “I’m here to plunder your booty.”

[Or Harry bets Nick a hundred pounds he can get Louis to sleep with him. He wins the wager and a thorough fucking.]

The Lion Man |iwillpaintasongforlou|E|12k

Louis is a vampire who loves tattoos and piercings as much as he loves a good feed. Harry is a biology student who gets dragged to a vampire bar (really, of all places) by his friends and happens to have blood that tastes like maraschino cherries. They're both a bit addicted and they're neither a bit ashamed.

Angels and Demons

| twerkinlarry |M | 70k

It’s a time where both Angels and Demons walked on earth, doing their work unbeknownst to humans. They look like normal humans, act like normal humans, interact such as, but they have very specific jobs not at all human like. Angels are here to guard, protect, and guide people into the right path. Demons are here to do just the opposite; mislead, give into poor judgment, throw into harm’s way, wreak havoc in general. Angels and Demons are given few guidelines other than their general rules, however there is one rule never to be broken; do not interact with the other. Under no circumstance should an Angel ever interact with a Demon, nor a Demon with an Angel, and that’s all.

My Wicked Flaws

|AngelicDemonMonster |M|31K

Struggling for acceptance in a world of constantly abused and raped omegas, Louis' only choice is to hide who he is. The only people who know are his sisters, his best friend and the man who makes his life a living hell, his father. Through a battle to find out who he truly is, while protecting his sisters and himself, Louis has to journey through love and loss in hopes of a better life than the hell he currently resides in.

All of My Intentions Were True

|onewasturning | Teen | 8K

There’s a hope, long taken for granted; as long as they’re together, everything would be okay.

Orphans AU. Growing up, Harry's and Louis' worlds revolve around each other. But growing up is more than just leaving home and getting jobs, and reality can be cruel.

Some things change, but others never will.

Won’t See It Coming …

| whoknows |E|12K

“Tell me that this is a fake,” Peter says, slapping a handful of papers against Louis’ chest. He says something else, something loud and demanding, barely even pausing for a breath, but Louis doesn’t hear it. All he hears is the sound of his own breathing, the sound of his own heartbeat.

Because this - this looks like a marriage certificate.

For a minute, everything stills, quiets. Louis drags his eyes up, meets Harry’s gaze, fixed on him.

Then the noise is back, shouting voices clamoring to be heard over each other, and Harry is still staring at him.

The ring that Louis hadn’t been able to stop noticing in the loo weighs heavily on his hand. His left hand.

more than just a dream

|orphan_account |GA | 4.9K

Harry and Louis ride the bus together, and they share a song a day.

"He makes to sit in his usual seat, but as soon as he goes to scuttle down the aisle, a hand is present around his wrist, Louis looking up at him with those bright eyes, and he pats the seat next to him. Harry glances down, and he decides to sit because Louis is cute, and he liked The Neighbourhood, and he’s got a nice smile that Harry doesn’t really mind looking at."

just a dream

| BriaMaria | M | 4.6K

“Won’t you join me?” The voice was soft, more melody than anything else. It wrapped around Louis, silken bands that tugged at his arms, at his chest.

He didn’t step out of the shadows. “No.”

The man in the pond smiled, sad and sweet and knowing, and then sunk beneath the water in the next heartbeat. The butterflies that had adorned his chest like jewelry, that had tangled in his dark curls, fluttered away.

Or the one where Louis is the king of the forest, Harry is friends with butterflies and a war is brewing on the horizon.

Two different versions …

|orphan_account | NR| 11.5K

Harry is a demon, captured by hunters. but not just any hunters. Angels. Louis is his angel.

If I Loved You Less

| @allwaswell16 | E |36K

Beautiful omega Louis Tomlinson is set to make his come out in London society and determined to find a mate in his first Season. With the help and protection of his oldest friend, Lord Niall Mendes, he takes Society by storm.

Being a wealthy and titled alpha means Lord Harry Styles has grown used to avoiding unmated omegas...until now. This Season he finds himself at every Society event just for a chance to speak with the omega with the flashing blue eyes.

Louis has the aristocracy at his feet and all the suitors he could hope for, but his secrets may ruin his chance at a love match.

I Promise

| @creamcoffeelou |Teen | 3.5K

Harry has a promise to keep and a pair of arms to go home to.

[Loosely based on the drowning scene from Dunkirk's trailer. ]

Chases the Moon Like Fire

| louisfreckles |Teen | 11K

"As long as you’d let me love you, I’ll have the summer paradise I’ve always dreamt of, right here with me.”

Harry smiled, seeming to accept whatever offer was hidden among Louis’ words. “As long as I can keep you, I won’t have to go too far just to find a place where I belong. And after that, you’ll always be my home, even from afar.”

Or, the one where Louis is a rich socialite in the UK post-WWI, who is stressed and tired of his demanding life. He chooses to go missing, leaving everyone back home to speculate whether he died or has been kidnapped, and sets sail across the oceans, arriving in Auckland, New Zealand, in search of summertime and freedom. What he doesn't look for but finds anyway, is a boy who seems reluctant to let him in, but ends up changing all of Louis' plans.

Fugue

| iwillpaintasongforlou | E | 16.4K

Harry falls asleep a 17 year-old who lives in Cheshire and is probably rockstar Louis Tomlinson's biggest fan. He wakes up 24 with a wedding ring on his finger, two kids, and Louis Tomlinson attempting to wake him up with a blow job. The doctor calls it organic retrograde amnesia, says he might never get back the last seven years of his life. The only thing that feels the same is how he feels when Louis touches him, and maybe that's enough to make him fall in love all over again.

I’m In Trouble Deep

|Atlll,o_a,s4j,sc |M| 33K

Louis has been nothing but clear with Harry from day one. “Don’t fall for me,” he said, eyes bright and dancing, fingers in Harry’s belt loops tugging him forward even as his words pushed him away. “I’m not your happily ever after.”

All I want

| quitefinishedlove |E|19K

“Remember this one film we watched two days ago? ‘Thirty, flirty and thriving’, that's you Lou. Not ancient, wheezing and dying, come off it.”

“Says my 18 year old boyfriend, fine then.”

“Your capabilities are still hitting the market, old man. Business and pleasure wise.” He punctuates each word slyly with sloppy nibbles on Louis’ skin, but not too playful to leave marks.

“With all that feisty little attitude you’re generating, you’re aware your bum is leaking though?”

They both laugh when they feel the trickling come passing Louis’ thighs from Harry’s twitching hole. He feels Louis pulling out five minutes later as they both settle in side by side.

(or the one where Harry gets pregnant at 18, without his alpha’s knowledge)

Three French Hems

|100percentsassy, g_a|M|20k

In which Louis is a designer at Burberry and Harry spends December wearing Lanvin… and Lanvin… and Lanvin.

all the lights are full of colour

|infinitelymint | E |26.7K

| So, fast-forwarding eight years from the day Harry met Louis, he is now a twenty-seven year old owner of one of the most up-and-coming eating establishments on the London restaurant scene, father of two wonderful boys and… separated from his husband. Now, that last part definitely was never a part of the original plan.

Or, Harry and Louis are separated, but for the sake of their two sons, they choose to spend Christmas together. It may just lead to a Christmas miracle.

Hands Clasped Tight

|afirethatcannotdie| E|44.3K

“What am I looking at here?” Harry asks.

“This, my friends, is a ‘proof’ Instagram account, run by your students,” Liam announces.

“It’s got all this stuff about how the two of you are together,” Niall adds.

“I heard about that,” says one of the math teachers. “Confiscated a kid’s phone today when they were looking at it. I have to say, the evidence that you’re dating is pretty damning.”

“Really,” Louis says dryly. “Do you think being married for three years might have something to do with it?”

Or the one where Harry and Louis are high school teachers and their students have been playing matchmaker for over a year. Little do they know, Harry and Louis are already married.

If You Could See Him Like I Do

|BornOnABeach| Teen | 7K

Harry was used to hearing it.

"Who's that?"

"The new kid Harry. Don't go after him."

"Why? Ooh, is he a bad boy?"

"No, but his boyfriend is."

The gossip came from everyone. But the people who talked didn't know Louis like Harry knew Louis. People saw Louis as dangerous, rebellious. And in a way, Louis was those things. But not towards Harry. Never towards Harry.

Something Great

|infinitelymint |E | 31K

“In which a coincidence, instagram, a party, a piano and a planned coming out all come together to make two people fall in love. As it happens, it turns out to be a rather effective combination.  

or, Louis is a student and Harry is the mega-famous singer that happens to post a photo with Louis in the background. Together they kind of break the internet.”

The Last Great American Dynasty

| @traviscrux | Teen | - series -

I. Conozco La Vida |4.7K|

"I have a son," he declared, there was a thinly veiled layer of hesitation.

Harry was unaware in the direction which this conversation was heading but chose to stare at the man instead.

"He is an Omega," he dropped the pivotal piece of information.

Harry's attention was hooked now.

"He has been raised in an Omega convent all his life, he hasn't been in the presence of any Alpha who isn't his immediate family."

"I am still waiting for you to make a point."

"You could take him as an Omega."

Harry did not react, his face remaining perfectly free of betrayal of any sort of emotion and leaned back upon his chair, his leg crossed upon his knee. "You are selling your son to me?"

II. El Comienzo De Una Vida |2.7K|

After being bartered to Harry to save his kingdom, Louis is on his way to the Alpha's homeland and he would very much like him to stop being so cautious and just kiss him, god damn it!

III. Entiendo La Vida |7.6K|

"You are hesitating, it's not that you do not want to reveal the subject to me but," Harry placed his observations, "you are fearful of my reaction."

Louis turned his gaze away and looked at the man's chest instead and began playing with the strings that tied the tunic around him, "You can say no and I know it sounds silly but-"

Harry lifted his chin and gazed at him with understanding, "Nothing you say is silly."

"I was wondering if I could be trained to shift into my wolf form," Louis let out, his eyes hopeful, "I know it may be unheard of but I was wondering if it is possible."

let your damage, damage me

| @outropeace | E | 57.K

A low and dangerous growl was ripped from the future King’s chest.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” the alpha snarled, eyes dark and nostrils flared.

Even as anger rushed through him at the alpha’s brutish display, Louis felt breathless at the intense gaze of the man that was going to be his future mate.

‘Tomorrow I’m going to be under all that. He will be inside me, all muscles and rage.’ Louis felt his cheeks heat again, but refused to be cowed. So he put his best smirk on display, the one alphas despised to see, the one that assured them all he had the upper hand.

“Thought you were expecting me, dear husband. I’m your future mate.”

Enshire

| HoPotato| Teen | 72.3K

“(Fictional a/b/o Elizabethan era-ish au)

Being an omega and the fifth in line for the title, the young lord of Chambriath was forced to believe that being wedded to the man of his father's choice and bearing his children was the only purpose of Harry's existence. It doesn't surprise him when his father, the Duke of Chambriath, announces his betrothal to the alpha Prince of Enshire, William II. Without a word of protest, Harry agrees to the arrangement, too polite to argue or rage his father with a question. He accepts his faith, allowing his life to be handed to a man he is completely unknown to.”

My English Love Affair

| @isthatyoularry | E |19K

The thing about sleeping with a member of a famous indie band is that the inevitability of having a song written about you is most likely a hundred percent. The second thing is that in the end, nobody's supposed to find out it's about you.

The one where Harry writes a song about his English love affair and Louis sleeps with someone in White Eskimo and all he gets is a stupid song written about him.

Welcome Back From The Friend Zone

| @2tiedships2 |M | 32.3K

“As we are both aware,” Louis began. “You are continuously complaining about not having the kitchen appliances needed when you want to make some of those random recipes you find online. And your precious waffle maker died recently.”

“Where are you going with this, Lou?” Harry asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I want to help you out, Haz.”

Louis should have thought this through better. Maybe made a proper speech before presenting the idea to his best friend.

“Are you going to tell me the bad idea on how you plan to help me out?”

Niall snickered from where he was seated but thankfully didn’t say anything.

“We need to pretend we’re getting married and send out announcements to rich people. Like billionaires who don’t know who we are.”

Or the one where an idea to create a fake wedding with the sole intent to receive gifts from billionaires took a turn no one, but also everyone, saw coming.

Undertow

| @leavingonatrain | E | 15.5K

As if Harry's world wasn't already on the brink of change, a twist of fate turns the man he once photographed in the streets of Paris and never forgot from faint memory, to a one night stand, to even more.

He wishes he could say he fought harder not to be pulled into the undertow, but he really, really didn't.

I’m A Man Who’s Got Very Specific Taste

| patdkitten | M |4K

“Birth control is getting expensive,” Louis repeats aloud to himself, focused on the medical bill he's just opened as he blindly locks back up his mailbox. “I could just stick with suppressants and condoms.” He continued, muttering to himself as he folded the bill back up. “It's not like I have a boyfriend or a mate or anything like that to merit continuing taking them.”

“Do you normally announce your sex life in front of the mailboxes?” The voice is slow and deep and makes Louis immediately think of warm cocoa. He also doesn't know the speaker, and he's pretty sure that he knows everyone in the building. “Is that like, a thing in this building? Because I'd like to know, so I can avoid future awkward conversations.” There's a dramatic pause for effect. "Even if they're as gorgeous as you are.”

There's a strange alpha in the building that Louis calls home and he thinks maybe he'll make a proposition to the alpha. It goes a bit different than expected.

you flower, you feast

|stylinsoncity | M | 18K

He's King of the Underworld, but don't assume Louis has it all. He could stand for some excitement in his monotonous, eternal life and maybe, even.....a soulmate.

(Despite not having a soul.)

And along came "Harry".

London Calls Me a Stranger

|orphan_account | E |9.2K

"Hello, my beautiful, conceited coquette."

"Hi, daddy."

Or the one where Harry is a tease, and Louis is his new neighbour.

Emerald Eyes

|orchidsbyjune | GA | 2K

“They make me lose track of time, you know.” He conversely added after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

“What is?”

“You. And your emerald eyes.”

Tide’s Deathless Death

|@poetsreprieve| E| 4.3K

“The Red Serpent gleamed in all of her marvellous glory from where she was anchored a meagre few miles away from the land. Her flag waving proudly in the afternoon sun. The image was certainly memorable, of the flag, that is; a serpent coiled viciously around a human heart, fangs sunken into the organ and blood oozing from the very spot. If not for the ship herself, the flag had its own repute of conveying the message that the captain was not to be trifled with.

There was no single man who had survived after taking up arms against the captain. Well, there was one man, but including him amongst the hoard of common faces would be a foolishness on the feared-by-all captain’s part.

That man currently stood silently staring after the captain, palm curled around the handle of his blade, and teeth clenched in anger. He was certainly going to relieve all the navies of their plight by taking down the captain. At least then, in his relatively newfound life of piracy, he would have done one good deed.”

Slip Into Your Arms

| @ohpleaselarry | NR | 4.4K

“Am I too old to ask for a cast that isn’t just plain white?”

The nurse laughs easily, shaking her head fondly as she continues to scribble on her little clipboard. Louis sets his free (non-broken) hand under his chin and sighs, peeking at the clock for the fifth time in the last minute. Waiting for doctors sucks. Waiting for doctors to come and fix up your throbbing hand while your head pounds and it’s Christmas- that really sucks.”

Walls

| @traviscrux |NR| 23K

Following his line of sight, he frowned and shook his head, "What's wrong?"

"Wasn't your timer on your ring finger?" Liam asked, at that the Alpha immediately swapped the tumbler and looked down at his finger which sported a string of tiny blue flowers on the underside of his ring finger.

The two of them looked at one another.

"You could've touched nearly fifty people by the time you grew delirious," Liam advocated, always the voice of reason. "Comrades, nurses, doctors."

Sighing, he turned away and continued drinking the water. Literally, the only fucking thing remaining in the middle of a fucking war.

Or: Harry has his soulmate timer stuck at zero from the beginning of time but suddenly the fates show mercy and a lovely forget-me-not takes the place of his timer. In between finding his soulmate in a war camp and solving the puzzle of the charismatic doctor who is treating him, all he can hope for is to live.

late nights and good intentions

| @princelouisau |E | 71.8K

“About last night,” Harry says suddenly, as if he’d been debating on whether to say anything. Louis whips back around to look at him.

  “Do not finish that thought,” Louis says just as abruptly.

Harry looks at him oddly, as if assessing him. With a small frown, it seems the assessment is over. “I only wish to say that you do not have to dwell on it. The rest of the men will surely forget by tonight.”

“And you?” Louis asks, raising an eyebrow. “Will you forget?”

“I will remember every second of it fondly,” the Lord says, no trace of a tease in his words.  

or, a Victorian era au where Louis pines for his overprotective older brother’s very charming best friend.”

Where the World has come together

|LadyLondonderry|M| 26K

“For the crime of elven blood running through his veins, Louis Tomlinson spends his days protecting the human kingdom he’s been cast out of. Forcibly tied by magic to the very walls that encircle the city, he and the other guards do what they can to find some semblance of a life.

Then, against Louis’ wishes, someone new is added to their number. How is he supposed to share living quarters with a monster?”

Dancing With The Devil

|CorsetBriefs| E| 160K - completed|

“It's 1967 and Harry is tired of being that little religious boy who everyone makes fun of. Tired of God pretending not to hear him, he decides to take other reins in secret; How bad could it go if he turned to the Devil? How fast would he answer him? It was time to save the Bible and turn the red candles on.

 Where Harry is a very sweet teenager who is tired of the way he's living and decides to realise a ritual to invoke the king of hell. Louis is the dumb devil who falls in love.”

Panoramic Girl

| orchidsbyjune | Teen | 2.8K

“Hello there my darling, you look beautiful.” And this, this is what Harry lives for.

“You think so?”

“Always.”

You’re Gonna Pay for this

|Eleven_11 |NR| 3.3K

“'NO!”Three sets of hands moved to grab Harry, and he was so startled that he jumped into the air from his nearly seated position on their new couch, butt just inches away from the pristine leather.He scanned the faces of the four boys in front of him, all colored with a mixture of shock, incredulity, and embarrassment. Harry was at a loss.

“Why?” he sighed.

"---Or, Louis and Harry get something new, and the boys refuse to break it in. Chaos and ridiculousness ensue.”

Endgame

| @brightgolden | E| 38.6K

“Harry has been told all his life how grateful he should be for being born as a male omega, and how blessed their people were because the heir to the throne would be carried by The King.

“What they neglected to tell Harry was what would happen if he failed to become pregnant.”

OR: “Where omega Crown Prince Harry Styles is trying and failing to get pregnant for four years, but all that is about to change when courtesan alpha Louis Tomlinson comes into the equation.”

Three Hearts

|JohnnyMignotta(zeroschiuma)|E|4.1K

“The lads want Louis to date this friend of theirs, Harry, they seem positively obsessed with. Louis has different priorities at the moment, like learning how to take proper care of himself and stop thinking about work 24/7.

He knows someday he is going to marry some corporate sellout like himself anyway, it's a question of time.

One Friday, he decides to go on an impromptu weekend in Southern Italy, where he meets a crazy stranger obsessed with octopus.”

From Dust to Lust

| @jacaranda-bloom | E | 45.4K

“From the moment Louis set eyes on the gorgeous stranger across the airport terminal, he knew the guy was trouble, which was the last thing he wanted. He wouldn’t have thought spending two days cooped up in a car travelling from the Australian Outback to the East Coast would change his mind.

It’s funny how things work out.

OR the one where Louis and Harry are fly-in-fly-out mine workers, coincidences are totally a thing, karaoke is an underrated form of foreplay, and the universe most definitely works in mysterious ways.”

love with every stranger

|barelylegalharry|GA| 10.9K

“It’s clear that they are perfect copies of each other: same eyes, same dimples, same weird noses, and same lips. But it’s also clear that in reality there’s only one of them and Louis’ just drunk enough to have double vision.

Or triple vision, in this case. or, the one where Harry is the responsible parent, Marcel is the Dopey Dwarf, Edward isn't qualified for babysitting and Louis' too drunk to realize there are three of them.”

Chiquitita

|trackfive|GA|4.9K

“Do I have a birthmark?” Rushed out of him, and his face was burning red.

"You woke me at three in the mornin' to ask if you have a birthmark?"

"Please just answer," Harry begged, and Louis woke up a bit more with the urgency of his words.

"You feelin' alright, mate?" Louis asked carefully, not wanting to upset him as he wasn't sure what state Harry was in.

"Louis. Please."

:when a new relationship makes harry feel undervalued, he reaches out to the only person he trusts with all his heart. louis comes to the rescue because, even when they're not together, harry will always be his baby and he will always be harry's home.(harry's house track six: little freak)”

Almost Misheard

|tommokat|GA|6.5k

“Also, here.” Harry reaches into the bag again and holds out… A box of toothpaste?

Louis slowly takes the box, recognizing his brand and preferred flavor plastered all over it. “Uh.”

“You also said you were almost out of toothpaste but kept forgetting to get more. And I needed more floss so I was already over in that aisle.”

“You didn’t have to do that, H.” How in the world did he luck out to have the best best friend in the whole world.”

home is where the heart is

| @maroonmoonlouis |E |47.4k

“Niall, there is absolutely no bloody way your club shelled out over £400,000 to have Harry Styles ugly mug plastered all over London’s bus stops.” Louis scowls from the passenger seat as their car flies by yet another bus stop with his sworn enemy’s face on it.

“Harry was a proper diva that day too,” Niall fondly reminisces of the alpha. “Kept demanding they redo his hair and swatting away any of the players who touched it.”

“They could've done his hair six ways to Sunday and he still wouldn’t look any more attractive than some bigheaded giraffe type,” Louis continues on his tirade, hoping to get his best mate to commiserate with him, but it’s becoming increasingly far-fetched, especially since said best mate is also on the same football team as said giraffe.

or the enemies-to-lovers football au where Harry is the star footie player used to getting his way and Louis is his new manager determined to whip him into shape.”

Chasing Death

| orchidsbyjune | M | 1.6K

“Louis wants to die. Death says no.”

cherry red and gloomy blue

| petricuor | E | 94.6K

“There was an alpha in his kitchen.

There was an alpha in his kitchen and he was in his panties and he reeked of sweat. Oh my God, he thought, what—

Suddenly, their eyes met. A strangled sound came out of Louis’ mouth as he got caught staring, his lips still parted as he scrambled to find something, anything, to say. The alpha preceded him.

“Cazzo,” he cussed, the glass he was holding in one of his hands almost slipping from it. He looked as surprised as Louis felt.

: Summer had never quite been like this before. Yes��it was still sticky, Diletta was the same as always and Louis’ family estate in the Italian countryside hadn’t changed one bit. However, something the young omega would’ve never expected was for a handsome, Italian alpha to completely turn his life upside down—hopefully for the better.”

kiss me like you wanna be loved

|orphan_account|M | 4.7K

“Something about Louis being Doctor Who and Harry being his sassy companion just completed something inside of me.”

maybe you should learn to love her

| orphan_account | GA | 3K

“kiss me like you wanna be loved' from Eleanor's POV.She's so stupid stupid stupid because she thought she had a right to stick her nose where it wasn't wanted, and now she's trying to forget the way the Doctor fell in love with a human boy whose dorm she broke into.”

i’m the fury in your head

|lazarov | M |736

“Maybe that would make it real. Maybe some fucked up concentration of cosmic energy, of psychic power, focused by the lens of all those girls moaning and gasping in unison could make the universe bend and snap back to formation, if only ever so slightly differently.”

i think i love you better now

| @softambrollins | Teen | 2.7K

“The one where they make a marriage pact, and it's not serious until it is.”

make me feel

| theviolonist| E | 2.6K

“It's so easy, is the thing - falling into him is like dancing.”

📌 I still have a long lists, they will be added when i’ve got time. If you want anything specific, let me know on the ask. I’ll give you one because all I do on my free time is read.

[insufferablelust]

Little Butterfly I (Sugar Daddy Mob Boss!Spencer Reid x Reader AU)

Warnings: Part 1 of an ongoing series (that i hopefully won’t abandon), Upcoming heavy violence, Mafia and Crime related fic, Spencer is a soft dom but is dangerous, HEAVY SMUT, upcoming dark kinks (Gun,Knife,Bondage etc), daddy kink for sure, Manipulation kink, Degradation, Humiliation (yknow the drill with me) spoiling kink?, upcoming murders etc, heavy topic regarding mental illness, College legal age!Reader, Age gap, older!Spencer, Mean!Spencer, BDSM themed, Indication of Subspace, Just heavily dark smutty series (yet again lmao) 

Hello, my wonderful readers, i want to thank you all for the patience you all have for this series, hopefully i can stick to schedule an update this once a week like Thrilled. This will be a new territory for me since all i know about mafia and such are from the movies and countless books my father has inherited me with, so i deeply apologize if there’re some mistakes, this is an AU that means its only a story and fantasy. If you are uncomfortable to violence and sex then PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS. Thank you, and Happy Reading. 

This series will set around the 80′s New York.

MASTERLIST HERE

There is no hiding from the absolute luxury you indulge in, in fact you love showing it to whoever might want to pry deep enough into your life. You caused no harm by it, and it certainly isn’t anybody’s business but yours and his.

The pair of arms around your waist is a certain remainder of who you belong to, and you loved it. He looked good tonight, almost too good with the suit adorning his perfection like an absolute genius adonis— your genius adonis. You feel your cheeks heats up slightly as he glanced at you, knowing just how shy you get around so many people— his little girl is sensitive after all.

Spencer Reid knows every little thing about you, what makes you tick, what makes you snap, what makes you bow in submission to him, and what makes you feel heavenly. He knows it all, he knows the way you trembled slightly whenever he wrapped his arms around your neck as he leaned down to kiss you, or how squirmy you get whenever he tug your hair, said your name calmly whilst shoving his fingers into your mouth— he knows everything.

—

It was a mutual agreement at first, living on 80’s New York has never been so stressful during your 20’s, all the student loans, the bartending you do sometimes, even the couple of scandalous photoshoots you sacrificed yourself doing to keep your bank account afloat. Your family never really cared much, and the only person that you truly have is Emily, your roommate.The whole ordeal was strange when you found out Emily’s ties to the mafia, being the daughter of one of the strongest mafia’s capo on America during that time. You wondered how on earth she has managed to doesn’t want to get on her father’s good side, and just except the riches that comes along with being a mob, but then again you were a stranger to it too...or so you thought.

The night she asked you to accompany her to meet her father and his boss, you shrugged and said yes, having nothing to do in the apartment other than wallowing in your own debts and sadness— you immediately agrees which put a smile on her cute face.

“I thought you didn’t want nothing to do with your father.” You asked as you raked through the closet to find something... ‘elegant’ but not too much, it’s going to be in a lavish restaurant after all. Your eyes darted to Emily’s who has been staring at her phone, smiling to whoever is texting her— you could only assumed it was one of her secret girlfriend-hookup for the week.

“Well i didn’t but money is tight, fucking inflation.” She looked up for once, lips hanging open at the sight of you standing there in a black dress, short with a slit on the thigh area— looking absolutely ravenous. “Holy fucking shit.” Emily whispered.

“What? is this enough? god i feel like such a prude.” You bit your lip as you await her comments, “You look fucking gorgeous you idiot, i mean are you sure you aren’t gay by any chance?” She laughed, which caused you to giggle, “I never said i’m not gay.. just that i’m not—

“Interested in dating, yeah yeah but we can at least fuck or something.” She jokingly raised her eyebrows as you throw your bra her way and laughed, “I just don’t want to get distracted em, especially that we live together.” You pouted before giving her a kiss on the cheek, which made her roll her eyes and smile.

Only if you knew what this meeting will entails.

—

The wine tasted exquisite on your tongue, the sweet burn of merlot was pleasant on the base of your throat which shocked you at first— maybe you should stop buying cheap wines, because the real ones are heavenly. You looked around nervously, it has been a long time since you’ve gone out to have dinner, let alone one as expensive as this.

“Stop looking like you’re about to die.” Emily whispers as she took the seat next to you, which you humorously giggle and swat her shoulder, “I’m not. It’s just.. new to me is all.” You nervously chuckled, before sipping on your wine some more. It was clear that her dad and his so called mob boss were late— which you rolled your eyes since Emily was basically rushing your make up, you just hoped that you looked decent enough, not that you want to impress anyone, its just good to feel like you’ve fit yourself to the occasion.

“Oh, you’ll get used to it.” Emily chuckled, before you could even process what she meant by that the sound of a soft elderly timbre rang through your ears, “Cara mia! Jesus, you’ve grown!” Emily slapped your thigh softly, gesturing for you to stand up.

Dear heaven, lord save your knees from buckling.

You watched as Emily greeted her father as you stood by her side, she kisses him on both cheeks as they made a small conversation that you pay no mind to since you were distracted, distracted by the pair of eyes that caught yours from the moment he walked in.

A soft yet stern eyes that held yours captive at this very moment, a presence that demands every single person for its attention, and intimidating like no other. A man, a finely sculpted man, standing in front of you in an attire that you were sure was more expensive than your whole closet, His soft looking curls marvelously falls fo his side, his plump lips were begging to be kissed— to be listened, to be heard, his tall lean figure towers over you which has you gulping down nervously— so much so that you failed to acknowledged the presence of Emily’s father calling your name.

“Y/N!” You let out a gasp before turning to shake Emily’s father’s hand, trying your best to smile as you glanced over the towering man, “So this is the Y/N i’ve heard so much about huh?” The old man snickered, looking gentle whilst maintaining a facade still. You giggled softly, “I hope there are all good things, nice to meet you Mr.Prentiss.”

“Oh please, Robert is fine. Oh Emily, Y/N this is don Reid.” He stepped back in.. what looks like an utter fear, you gasped as you realized that this is.. the mob boss Emily talked about, the masochistically handsome man you’ve been staring at— you thought a mafia boss would be someone older, but this is certainly not the case.

“Pleased to meet you both, Spencer Reid.” He extended his hand which Emily gladly took before she nudges your side whilst you were still gawking at the man, the soft yet deep timbre of his voice soothes and intimidate you at the same time, not to mention how he carries himself— practically saying he’s a god.

“Oh— um yes hello, pleased to meet you, i’m Y/N.” You bit your lip as you feel your cheeks hurt from the embarrassment, shaking his hand quickly— before you could even imagine pulling away, he gives you an amused chuckle and squeeze your hand tightly before releasing you.

“Well, let’s take a seat shall we?”

You are so fucking fucked.

--

“So, Y/N, Emily told me you’re majoring in art department, how’re you liking it?” Robert spoke as you eat your pasta slowly, trying not to show how you were trembling under the very same gaze that held you captive from the moment it arrives here. You gulped down a delicious bite of pancetta, before answering, “Oh i love it, always been my passion— well painting is, but i do love everything about art and literature.” You chuckled.

“I would love to see your art sometimes.” The voice could strangle you and you’d die happily, it really could— you glanced at the man whose been looking at you like a wolf to its prey, fingers skimming over the feet of the wine glass as a soft yet eloquent smile strikes over his face.

“Oh um, it’s not— it’s not that good, i wouldn’t want to waste your time.” You choked on your wine, feeling the burn on your throat as he let out a humorous-less laugh, shaking his head, before bringing his lean fingers to his lips. “Nothing is wasteful, not if it comes to such art like you.”

What?

“Huh?” You felt small, your cheeks heated at the reference as you tried so hard not to squirm and praised yourself by hearing what you thought you heard. Your eyes darted to his in a shy manner as he kept his composure well, licking the rim of his glass before sipping his wine gently.

“Anyways! dad, shall we talk a bit more private? i’m sure Y/N can keep the don company.” You gasped at Emily’s words, still barely grasping the previous encounter— the bottom of your heel jab at her left foot, as you glared at her, “Of course of course, don?” Robert spoke up, eyes lowering as his body turned to look at the smirking masterpiece that still stares at you with the same intensity.

“Go. We’ll be fine, won’t we angel?” You gulped down as much wine as you could without burning your throat before smiling nervously, eyes glancing back and forth to The Don and Emily.

“Y-Yes um sure.” You offered a gentle smile, even though your heels jabbed Emily’s which yet again resulted in her tiny laugh before she walks away to the back area of the restaurant.

The area was thick with intensity and glamorous lights, adding to the headache that already starts due to you being a lightweight around alcohol. Suddenly you realized, that you’re practically alone— with the don of the biggest mafia ring in America. “Go ahead and ask me the question.” He murmured sternly, causing your ears to perk at the sudden thrill that made your goosebumps rose and thrived under the shimmering lights.

“Pardon?” Your fingers fiddled with the hem of your dress as you tried so hard not to stare at the huge man, feeling as if you’re being cornered by a lion, and you his prey.

“Your cheeks are warm aren’t they? you keep biting your lips every time i muttered a word, you can’t even look at me because you know that the second you do, you wouldn’t be able to stop. Emily is right, you’re a pure little thing, its fucking cute really. If this table weren’t here separating us, you’d be across my lap already— for wearing something so slutty like that.” By the time he finishes taunting you, you stopped breathing, thigh squeezing against each other so tightly that you could feel how damp your panties are getting.

“Go ahead and ask, doll. Surely you can’t be dumb enough to think i would just allow anyone to meet me let alone a little college student like you.” His eyebrow lifted, as you nervous squirmed on your seat and breathed out.

“Why did you asked her to bring me?”

“Nicely. You know better, Y/N.”

“Sir...”

—

And the rest was history, the pair of arms around your waist tighten as the owner’s lips caress and nip at the very sensitive part of your neck, causing you to shudder and mewls. “mmh.. t-too early.” You complained, fully knowing that would only amuse him even more.

He chuckled as you had predicted, nimble fingers grazing up and down your front like feathers, delicately worshipping every inch of your skin. The blaring sound of New York’s traffic was prominent, but somehow that adds a thrilling aspect for you, months ago— you were picking up morning shifts by now, working your ass off just to gain enough cash to pay this month’s rent. But now, here you are, in the arms of the most feared yet young powerful don in the entirety of the mob community, Heck if everyone knows who he is and how much power he holds— they’d all fear him, but not you, not his fiery little butterfly.

“Shh, let me love on you a little.” Your heart warmed, familiar feeling of a thousand butterflies swarming on your belly caused your cheeks to warmed at the gesture. He said things like those often, though he made it perfectly clear that you were, you are only here for business arrangements, you knew he likes to toy over affection like this— one you aren’t supposed to get attached to. But how couldn’t you? when his hand so softly glides down the curve of your godly features, warm breath fanning across your skin from behind, whispering sweet words.

“Look so pretty for me, butterfly.” He whispered, causing you to yet again whimpers, hand clutching the sheets tightly as he moves down down down until he turned you over and settle between your legs, smiling at you. “If heaven is real, you’re definitely it.” He nipped and bit the exposed skin of your thighs, last night and the night before and before still there but like he said,

“If you agree to the terms, i’ll give you every damn thing you fucking want. Your bills, rents, loans, plus each and every single thing you wished to buy.”

“And in retur—“

“In return, you will be mine, mine to have whenever wherever i want, you won’t be my chained slave or nothing, but you’ll be mine.”

So marked you again and again he did, tearing your satin panties he did, panties that cost more than a week worth of luxury meal that he only grunted with “I’ll buy the whole fucking store, now shut up and let daddy eat his breakfast.”

You swore you’re in god’s heaven then and there, even if you aren’t sure that you believe in one, you can’t help but to think that this is some kind of miracle, your life is, here you have a perfect adonis, suckling on your clit as his fingers pump your delectable cunt in and out with such a fast pace that made you feel all floaty and flustered. The same man that commands the room whenever he walks in, the same man who pay all your bills, the same man who bought you a new lavish apartment and hands you gifts every damn day.

“Oh! oh please daddy right there..” You moaned out loud as your fingers latched onto his hair, softly tug on them as he moaned against your drippy cunt and suck your clit even harder,earning a particularly loud and lewd moan from you. “mmh! a-ah! i’m gonna—“ He held his finger up then, eyes finding yours as his mouth continues to work on your now sensitive clit. Spencer wasn’t too strict or nothing about your rules but if there’s two that he’s strict about is for you to cum only if he gives you permission— no matter the place or time, if he wants you to cum, you’ll cum— not that it’s hard, with someone as skilled as him.

When you begged and begged, he slapped your thigh only to grunt darkly, “If you can’t shut up and let daddy enjoys this, i’ll fucking take you on the balcony and fuck you for all Manhattan to see. Do you want that, Butterfly? want everyone to see what a filthy college girl you are getting fucked by someone as dangerous as me?” He slapped your cunt then, over and over again as you pant, and mewls.. Body jolts and pulsed at his ministration.

“You’re going to cum like this—“ He paused to spit directly onto your swollen clit, watching it wet the sensitive nub, “Going to cum with daddy slapping your greedy little cunt. Or you are not getting an orgasm.”

“Yes, daddy— oh!” True to his words, he spank you, over and over again, leaving you quivering and brokenly cried at the burning pleasure, “Cum princess, come on, you surely know how to thank daddy don’t you?” Your hole clenched around nothing as you arch your back and sobbed,

“Can’t— daddy please i-“

“You were so fucking desperate to cum, why not now huh? your sensitive cunt surely looks wrecked enough.” He scoffed before he spank your clit so hard you jumped at the sensation before he licked his fingers and caress your clit in fast fanning motion, not giving you enough time to even breathe as your cunt pulses and throb with overwhelming need of release, building up up up, up until you finally trembled and cum all over the bed— an orgasm so intense that you blacked out for few seconds straight.

“Shh.. shh good girl, that’s it— fuck you look so ethereal like this, butterfly.” He muses as he settle his head on your lap and admire your pulsing body, “T-Thank- y-you.. daddy.” You gathered all the strength you have left as he smiled proudly.

Your head laid on his chest as you both cuddle in silence, trying to enjoy the serenity and calm environment around you as the city below you buzzed all round. It was calming for awhile before his phone rang and you involuntarily sighs, “I know pretty girl, i know.” He muttered, before smiling apologetically- Not that he needs to.. Business arrangements, not like you’re his girlfriend or nothing.

love on you,

love on you,

let me love on you,

You forced your fuzzy subby mind to get the thoughts out, as you watched his figure put on his robe, and leaned down, “I’ll be back later okay, don’t forget to check your phone.” He kissed your forehead for a bit, letting it linger as you held back your tears, wishing he could stay with you, you need your daddy, you really really do need him now. Feeling all small and fuzzy like this. But with the blaring noise of his ringtone, you knew the don has business to take care of and of course you’re not important enough to held such important task to be left.

So you smiled all nicely and kissed all the rings finger on his fingers before bidding a tiny whimper of, “Best of luck, don.” Your head bowed a little in respect as he noticed the true and true sadness flashed across your eyes, but paid it no mind as his other burner phone blared.

“Thank you, Butterfly. Get dressed soon, and i’ll have Morgan bringing you that sandwich from the deli you love so much. I’ll see you soon.”

Oh how nice would it be if this is your life, but life doesn’t always have a happy ending after all.

——

Comment or send me a message if you want to be added to this series taglist!

[neonponders]

I’m so sorry that I don’t remember who originally posted about Steve accidentally calling Billy, Daddy, and Billy - naturally - going feral for it.

But daydreaming about this helped me sleep so ~ enjoy! (If anyone knows the post I’m talking about, I’ll happily add a link to it in a reblog and the ao3 notes.)

Read on ao3 here.

Featuring reunion/aged up trope ~ (I didn’t really keep canon in mind for this, but if you want it to be post season 3, that’s fine.)

It’s a strange twilight zone, meeting someone again. Being complete strangers with a history.

Not the best history, either, so Steve just had to laugh to himself while he sat on Billy Hargrove’s couch. The guy looked up from the kitchen counter across the open floor plan. “What?”

And Steve might be internally combusting a bit-

A lot.

Because Billy’s hot. Like...Steve can actually appreciate it now. It’s not the first time he feels like a fool for being too slow. Billy was a looker in high school; easily one of the guys who completed puberty first and knew it. Made him an asshole for it. And people liked assholes.

Steve guessed he just didn’t do it right. Being the mean guy. But that was far behind them, now, and Billy’s late twenties were doing him favors.

Steve supposed if young, spry, Adonis Billy came with being a complete dick, then he could appreciatively leave him behind. Because Billy wasn’t a complete dick anymore. And the man strolling back across the room with a pair of whiskey sours was definitely, 100%, burning a hole through Steve’s jeans better than the show-off from high school ever did.

Steve reckoned Adonis never got laid nearly as much as Zeus or Poseidon anyway, which he only knew from Robin’s ramblings about her Greek theatre class. Steve earned a distinct wrinkling of her nose when he said, “Lettuce? Adonis is symbolized with lettuce? Yeah, no. Aphrodite, that cougar, fell for a twink while Daddy Poseidon was getting whoever he wanted with his beard and all.”

Robin had barked a laugh but chided, “Please don’t ever call Poseidon, “Daddy,” ever again. Oh my god.”

Joke’s on her, because now she referred to the gods and heroes by whatever name Steve gave them.

And the joke was on Steve. Because he was definitely the twink in this new situation he found himself in.

Billy had always been stacked. But the guy walking through the university gallery to make Steve’s heart stop beating in his chest was something else. He wasn’t even bigger, really. Something just...happened as soon as a person could see 30 closer than 20. Steve had first noticed it with Robin, because they spent the most time together. Obviously that crush had been snuffed out with her gentle coming-out to him years ago, but Steve still had eyes in his head. Robin aged really well. Steve had begun to wonder if he was aging nearly as gracefully.

Billy, that bastard, strolled right up to him with a freaking mustache of all things, invited them to lunch the next day - where he had switched to clean shaven - and now sat on his couch in his newly built apartment complex with a sweating, rattled Steve. He had neatly pulled him aside before the three of them parted the restaurant to invite Steve over for drinks that evening.

Steve was unprepared for the sculpted scruff on the man’s face now. He’d never seen a guy switch facial hair styles like he was changing shirts. Frankly, he didn’t know anybody who could just grow it that easily.

Steve gulped loudly around his whiskey sour.

It was Billy’s turn to laugh under his breath. “You okay? You never answered me.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, a little out of breath. “I’m just...reeling, here. I think the last conversation we had involved a fist fight.”

Billy laughed again and Steve’s eyes trailed over the shirt fitting perfectly around his built shoulders. Maybe Billy is bigger. In like a...domestic sort of way. Like he still had all his muscle but didn’t throw a fit over a bowl of pasta. Steve is still taller. Steve still had that, at least, but he sure felt like his second puberty hadn’t graced him yet.

Billy was talking. Pay attention, Steve.

Something about Robin. Steve replied, and hoped he was answering close to whatever Billy had said, “Robin teaches there and some of her students were in the exhibition. It’s an art nerd thing. Everybody’s involved, even if it’s not your subject.”

Steve couldn’t tell if the pause was Billy processing or if Steve had been completely off the mark. Deflect. Reroute! his brain told him, so he asked, “Did we ever ask how you knew about the gallery?”

“Max goes to school there.”

“Oh,” Steve chirped bluntly. “Small world.”

Billy hummed a sound low in his chest. Something vibrated inside Steve and he closed his eyes in a hard blink, grasping at flimsy straws for composure. Billy finished, “I was in the area. Definitely a pleasant surprise to see your familiar face.”

“My Lego head?” Steve gestured vaguely at himself. “I guess this block always did stand out.”

Billy huffed a surprised sound, like he hadn’t expected that, but he let it tumble into easy laughter. “You look good. I never saw you with short hair.”

His fingers pushed the arching swoop of Steve’s fringe behind his ear. The briefest touch across his temple finishing on his neck...

I’m going to have a heart attack.

“Thanks. That goes for the both of us.”

Just like he almost missed never snatching a chance with high school Billy, Steve only kinda missed never getting his hands on that mullet. Only to know how soft that hair actually was. Not like Billy needed it, of course. Truly absurd, how he rocked any hair situation on his head that wasn’t shaped like a Lego person’s.

Steve finished his whiskey in the next gulp.

He could feel Billy’s laser blue eyes notice this, and then he stood from the couch. “I’m getting us some waters.”

“Okay,” Steve chimed dumbly. Feeling dumb.

Jesus Christ, it’s Scoops all over again. You suck. You suck-

“Poseidon liked a twink too, you nimrod,” Robin had teased back. “His name was Anteros.”

“And he dies too, right?”

“Nope. He’s basically Poseidon’s husband and chauffeur.”

“Aw. Good for Daddy P.”

Billy returned. “Are you one of these people who likes seltzers?”

Steve blindly took the can while his thoughts slammed mutinously into, Daddy B. B is kinda cute. Shorter-

“Thanks-

Billy.

-daddy.”

Steve opened the can before it sank in what he’d just said. Carbonation gently kissed his skin as he held the can to his lips but didn’t drink. Some may or may not have landed in his lap before he lowered it to see Billy’s unreadable face.

“Oh my god.” Steve rushed to place the can on the coffee table and pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes.

“Did you...?”

“Don’t say it,” he pleaded, removing a hand as if to physically defend against the words in the air.

“Steve-”

His words came muffled from where he hid inside his hands. “Oh my god. I’m gonna throw up.”

He stood up - to go where, he didn’t really know. Probably best to just leave at this point. Way to choke. Way to absolutely choke, Harrington. You don’t even know if Billy’s bi and you just deep-dived into WEIRD-

“I’m really sorry,” he rushed as he stepped around the coffee table.

“Steve.” Billy gripped his arm and pulled right back onto the couch as if it were easy. Steve more than landed in his spot, he landed flush against Billy. His thigh felt Billy’s warmth, and his lips stayed parted to keep breathing when he realized how close their faces were. 

Billy this close was something else, and Steve didn’t have the brain power to navigate it.

“Say it again.”

So it took him a long minute to absorb that. Was he seeing stars? So much for breathing.

“Huh?”

Steve’s lashes sagged heavily over his eyes when Billy leaned tantalizingly close. Either of them could stick their tongues out and taste the other’s lips.

Don’t, he commanded his mutinous subconscious.

“Say it again, Steve.”

He wondered which was louder: his thunderous heart or the racket in his brain trying to turn rusty gears. He whispered against Billy’s skin, “I didn’t mean to say it.”

A hand, gentle but there, found Steve’s nape. “I’m telling you to say it on purpose.”

Was he making fun of him? Steve couldn’t tell. He hadn’t spent more than a handful of hours with him. But his voice made that thing in Steve’s body vibrate and his brain had officially declared itself a lost cause.

In for a penny, in for a pound. Steve closed the gap - tiny as it was - and involuntarily moaned at the softness of Billy’s lips. The hand on his nape tightened and another came to hold the front of his throat; not pressing against his windpipe, but Billy’s fingertips held Steve’s jaw in place and his palm surely felt the drumming of Steve’s heart.

Steve’s tongue couldn’t help itself. He touched the plush skin of Billy’s upper lip, ever so lightly-

Billy groaned, wanton and hungry as he pushed entirely into Steve’s personal space. The latter gasped at the sound, and then he really did see stars as Billy’s tongue fucked against his own. He tasted sour and sweet and the citrus mixed with Billy’s natural taste in such a way that Steve tilted his head for more, pushed right back into Billy’s space.

Steve’s body rotated enough that his knee bumped into Billy’s. Then Billy was gripping that joint hard enough to bruise so that he could pull Steve all the way around to straddle him. Steve clumsily climbed onto his lap, grateful for the influx of air as Billy planted wet kisses and pressed his tongue into Steve’s pulse. He didn’t really know what the boundaries were anymore. This was explosive and sudden and Steve sat, unsure, higher up on Billy’s thighs-

“Ahh!” he burst when Billy gripped his hips and yanked his pelvis flush against him. Steve’s moan clipped short into a small ache of pain. The way his jeans tightened with the stretch of his thighs crimped into his already throbbing erection.

Billy opened his jeans. Steve’s voice escaped with his gasp when the colder backs of his fingers touched his belly as he dipped into Steve’s underwear. He stood up on his knees to give Billy the room to free his erection, and Steve couldn’t help the moan that exhaled out of him when he sat back down, feeling Billy’s soft shirt against his red cockhead.

Steve shivered as Billy’s hands slid up and around his body, mapping out Steve’s topography and shoving his shirt as high as Steve’s collarbones. Steve felt like a lewd wet dream: an exposed, panting mess on Billy’s lap. His heart ricocheted around his ribs with the sharp tickle of stubble, and he whimpered as it scraped over his nipple and chest.

“Your shirt,” he heaved, knowing he was dripping precum. “Billy-”

“Call me what you did before.” He reached into the back of Steve’s jeans and gripped a handful of his ass that had Steve lurching forward and bucking into the softness of that shirt and tummy, the warmth of Billy’s body. Steve whined when Billy held him down, unable to move.

“Say it. Whatever you want. Just say it for me.”

Steve bought a little time by kissing him, hard. Hard enough to make Billy lie back into the couch, his head tilted up to moan into Steve’s mouth. Steve’s lips nuzzled the side of his lips and began an exploratory trail across Billy’s cheek and jaw, down to his throat.

“I just...wanna feel all of this on me. I wanna feel your beard so much I’ll still feel it tomorrow... Daddy.”

Steve’s voice pitched to the ceiling when a hand gripped his hair. Billy’s other hand released his ass cheek to push encouragingly on Steve’s lumbar the same time he drew Steve’s earlobe into his mouth. Steve gripped the couch upholstery behind Billy’s shoulders as he bucked against him, rutting like a teenager. Billy’s own jaw fell for his moan to escape when Steve’s ass and backs of his thighs moved over his own cock trapped in his pants.

Steve tried to slow down a little, to rub against him without making the fabric chaff. “Daddy, what do want?”

If he didn’t feel Billy’s heartbeat before, he sure as hell did now. Steve felt it against his hands as he sought to know the contours of Billy’s shoulders and chest. He watched Billy’s swallow through the gorgeous neck that lay open to him as Billy gazed up at him. One of his hands traced the gently twitching artery on the side. Steve began to pepper slow, audible kisses against his face. When he landed on Billy’s lips, Billy kissed back, and when he wandered all the way up to Billy’s temple, Billy let him. Only his hands moved sluggishly between Steve’s thighs and his waist, seeking skin underneath his shirt.

Steve came back down to whisper against Billy’s lips, “Daddy?”

It was a blur of movement punctuated by Steve’s surprised yelp of glee as Billy threw him onto his back on the couch. Billy kissed the laughter out of his flushed, red throat, growling in satisfaction at how those bubbles of mirth sank into breathy moans.

“I’ve wanted you for years, pretty boy.”

Steve’s brain didn’t absorb that so much as his body did. Pinballs of emotion and sensation darted to and from his groin. He lifted his leg to rest across the back of the couch and to give Billy access to whatever he wanted.

Strong hands moved carefully - fondly - over Steve’s thighs. A stuttering breath left him when Billy clutched the backs of his legs. A sweet ache to have the muscle squeezed there.

“Don’t hold back on me now, baby,” Billy taunted, pressing his hands into the couch on either side of Steve and aligning his bulge with Steve’s hole and undercarriage still inside his jeans. “Let me hear you.”

Steve’s other leg wrapped around him and he lifted his pelvis to grind against Billy’s front. Billy’s bravado melted into an anguished, blissed-out frown as he shut his eyes against the sensation. When he opened them, Steve held his cock in hand, pumping himself in time with his pelvis rolling up to meet Billy.

It was sloppy and desperate and Steve didn’t think he ever did this even as a teenager. It had all been a small town rush to get hands or mouths on skin and get rid of the stigmatizing V-card. Except when Steve was in love, and allowed to take his time...

Steve didn’t know if he was in love now. But as another wave of ticklish warmth darted through him, Steve laughed a little.

“What?” Billy asked, not unlike the first time.

“I just...I just like this, that’s all,” Steve admitted. “You feel good. You smell good. Ahh! I’m close.”

“Let me see you, baby. Let me taste the mess you make.”

That didn’t so much as nudge Steve off the cliff as it drop kicked him into his orgasm.

“Hahh! Daddy, I’m there! I’m there...”

The mind-halting knot of sensation burst inside him with a force that let Steve not even care that he craned his face toward the arm of the couch, moaning and splashing his hair over the upholstery like a romance novel cover.

He realized somewhere in the middle that Billy had grasped his cock and was the reason his climax kept going. Milking little dribbles of cum out of him. Steve hadn’t cum like this in years, and he lay riveted to Billy hastening his rhythm to chase his own cliff edge.

The furrowed brows of concentration on Billy’s face were wiped off by Steve gripping his shirt and yanking him down for Steve to taste him, to plunder his mouth and feel that soft material against his own bare, messy torso. 

Billy shuddered and pushed, pushed against Steve like he meant to bury his cockhead inside as he came. The visual sent an aching thrill into Steve’s core, knowing how Billy looked when he came and knowing that he’d cum inside. It made Steve eager to feel the pressure of his thrusts and the aftershocks when he pulled out to repeat it all again.

Steve had just cum like a seventeen year old and wanted to go all the way, with Billy’s hands all over his backside and his scruff against Steve’s ass cheeks-

Billy’s hand brushed over his hair and eased around to cradle his head. “What are you thinking behind those big eyes?”

Steve blinked drunkenly up at him even though it certainly wasn’t whiskey giving him this high. “My eyes?”

“Mmhm,” Billy hummed through lips pressing into a content smile. He hovered over his elbows, still framing Steve in but not crowding him. Fingertips pressed little swirls over his scalp, drifting around his ear. “I like your big, doe eyes.”

No one ever commented on his eyes. His hair, obviously. His butt. His shoulders. His moles. Billy gazed down at him, searching through Steve’s thoughts. The way he always had, really.

“Thinkin’ about you creaming me instead of your pants.”

Billy turned his head to the side so he didn’t laugh directly in Steve’s face. “Only if I’m not dreaming this time.”

This time.

God, Steve liked what that implied.

His arms came around Billy’s shoulders, loving the broadness and weight of the man on top of him. He kissed him softly, bumping his nose against Billy’s and eliciting a groan while Billy tilted his head and deepened the kiss.

“Again,” he begged through the kiss. “I want you again, Daddy.”

[giorno-plays-piano]

Can i get a yandere steve or bucky "rescuing reader" from a family brunch? She doesn't know him, hes been stalking her.

Who loves the characters stalking their darlings?? Meeee 🙈🙈🙈

Thank you for your request, honey!

Secret relationship

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, swearing, implied stalking, kidnapping.

Words: 1729.

__________________

Although the encounters with your family grew a bit more hostile over the year, this family brunch was an utter nightmare to you: your mom decided you didn’t know how worried she were about you having no decent partner. Listening to her trying to force you meeting a son of her coworker - “a very sweet boy with a kind heart and a nice salary, Y/N!” - you did your best not to roll your eyes. She was being impossible. Why on Earth did your mother think she could invade your life this way? You weren’t a kid anymore, and you didn’t need her interfering in your affairs.

But even your dad was unable to stop her as she kept talking more and more about you finally settling down. Once again your mother reminded you that in your age she had already had children of her own while you still struggled to find a man. Of course, she didn’t listen to you saying you didn’t want to settle down just yet. 

Internally screaming, you drank your tea, unable to touch those amazing cinnamon buns right in front of you because your mom would definitely ask you whether you kept a healthy diet. She sent you such a look when you wanted to order some pasta.

“Mom, please.” You exhaled, barely holding on. “Every time you tried fixing me up with someone it never worked out. I know you’re doing it for me, but, ugh, we just have very different taste in men. Dad, no offense!”

He had to suppress a laugh under your mother’s icy glare and quickly snatched a bun, pretending he’s busy eating. You couldn’t blame him - sometimes you wandered how he was holding on all those years with your mom.

She wasn’t a bad parent, really. You loved her, and she was ready to give you everything she had to make you happy, but sometimes your mother just couldn’t see the line where she had to stop. Of course, her concern was genuine, yet she had no right to intrude into your personal life like it wasn’t a big deal.

“Dear, if you were able to find a nice man on your own, I wouldn’t have to do it for you,” she said, narrowing her eyes at you, and you felt like hiding behind your dad’s back.

“Well, maybe I have someone, but I just don’t tell you about him!” You protested, setting your cup back on the saucer and crossing your arms on your chest. “Have you ever thought about that?”

“And why would you refuse letting me know you date someone decent?” She chuckled, lowering her fork into heavenly smelling spaghetti Bolognese. “The answer is simple, isn’t it? Because even if he exists he’s not decent!”

You were really fighting your growing desire to just stand up, pay for the meal at the counter and leave because your mother was really insufferable today. You could never understand her concern with you not seeing anyone. if you were still happy, why did it matter? Why didn’t she ask you about your reasons? The last relationship you were in was suffocating, and you thought you were still recovering from it, enjoying your freedom.

God, now you were really thinking of asking your friend to pretend you were dating just to calm down your mom.

Exhaling loudly and squeezing your eyes shut when your dad tried talking to her, you wished for this family brunch to end as quickly as it could. Well, could you maybe message some of your friends to give you a call and then act like it was your boss? Last time it worked.

“Sweetheart, why do you never pick up your phone?”

Someone’s voice rang right behind you, and you jumped a little in your seat, turning away from your parents and looking at the man standing too close to your liking. 

Holy cow. He looked like Adonis. Or Apollo. You couldn’t really tell, gawking at his impressive biceps barely hidden by his t-shirt, his tight jeans hugging all the right places - he reminded you of a ancient Greek statue, so picture-perfect and absolutely hot.

But what did this breathtakingly handsome stranger want from you? You certainly didn’t remember befriending any Greek gods in this lifetime.

“I’m sorry if I scared you. I admit I was a little mad you didn’t answer my calls.” He smiled, disarming and charming, and you were almost chocking on air at his tender tone. 

Then he lifted the sunglasses he was wearing, and you realized he was winking at you. 

Oh. Ooooh.

“I’m sorry!” You exclaimed, hurriedly taking out your phone from your bag hanging on the chair. “I put it on silent and forgot to check. Hi dear! How did you find me?”

“I’ve been secretly stalking you, of course.” He laughed it off, and the glasses kept going down on his nose until you saw who he really was. The next second you froze, happy you turned away from your parents as they would definitely see something wasn’t right.

Steve Rogers, Captain America himself, was staring back at you.

For a moment you forgot how to breathe, mentally kicking yourself to say something, anything at all to keep the conversation going. Captain America saw your miserable encounter with your mom and decided to give you a hand to escape this family brunch, and you weren’t even able to utter a single word. But who could blame you for that, right? How often did you see a superhero coming to rescue you from your own mom?

You needed to say something. You absolutely needed to say something.

“I will be more careful next time.” You managed to smile playfully at him, turning to face your parents and seeing they, too, had already realized who was standing in front of them. “Mom, dad, I’m sorry, but there’s a very good reason why I can’t meet that nice guy you were telling me about.”

“Please, forgive me my rudeness.” Steve hurriedly said as if he just saw people sitting at the same table with you, coming closer and extending his arm to your dad, then kissing the back of your mother’s hand. You were ready to laugh at her bedazzled expression, her mouth open a little. “My name is Steve. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine.” Your father said in a quiet voice, unable to process who was standing close to him. 

It looked pretty surreal to you too, but you could hardly wish for a more perfect way to stop your mom from fixing you up with someone. Of course, you couldn’t tell her about your date because you were seeing Captain fucking America, alright? And no other sweet and nice boy could ever be compared to him, perfection of perfection.

You were so damn lucky Steve Rogers was willing to help you out here.

“I’m very sorry to interrupt your brunch, but I really need Y/N’s help with something and it's rather delicate. May I snatch her from you?” You could tell even your mother was absolutely abashed with his wide smile when Steve looked at her questioningly.

“O-of course, sir.” Your dad said, seeing his wife currently losing her ability to speak. “We perfectly understand. Thank you for taking care of her. Have a good day!”

With that you were finally free, standing up abruptly and clenching your bag in your hands as you bid your goodbye to your parents, now walking side by side with a national hero who had put his large arm around your waist like it was a usual thing. You still had a hard time accepting the fact it was Steve Rogers who had volunteered to save you. He was risking his privacy doing it - how did he know your mom or you wouldn’t run to paparazzi squad and claim you’re dating Captain America? It would surely bring him troubles.

Yet here you were, walking further and further from that little restaurant with him, unable to say a single word.

“Thank you so much, sir.” You barely whispered, and the man turned his head to you, smiling. “I don’t know what I’d do if you wouldn’t come.”

“Why are you calling me sir?” He laughed, shaking his head and rubbing your back affectionately. “I’m just Steve. Always happy to help a lady.”

Your cheeks were burning instantly, and you bit your lips, lowering your head and wondering how far did you have to walk together so your parents wouldn’t see you two parting ways. Hell, would your mom try to spy on you? It wouldn’t be surprising, actually.

So, you walked and walked until the restaurant became just a little spot somewhere far away.

“Thank you for your help.” You repeated, stopping in the middle of a street and making Steve frown, unable to understand why you weren’t willing to keep walking. “I’m so sorry I took so much of your time. You don’t have to accompany me any longer!”

“What?” He asked, looking at you with a slight concern. 

“I mean, I’m sure my parents had long lost us in the crowd. Besides, we’re so far from them, So, um, you don’t have to keep pretending.”

“What are you talking about, sweetheart?”

Taking his sunglasses away, he gently drew you closer to him, and you watched him tilting his head to the side as he rubbed circles on the back of your hand. Steve’s smile was so tender it was able to make you melt, but the way his eyes lingered on you... You suddenly felt uneasy. Why was he reluctant to let you go?

“I’m saying I’m alright and I can continue on my own, si-” You got silent for a second as his gaze turned dark. “Steve.”

“Let’s not a make a scene, dear.” He smiled, giving you a kiss on the forehead while you froze on the spot. “I don’t want your mom to think things haven't been great between us. It’s gonna break her heart, you know?”

Before you had time to say something, confused and a little scared of the things Steve was talking about, he had forcefully dragged you along to a car parked out on the street and opened the door, quickly pushing you inside. He closed the door right when you decided it was time to scream for help.

_______________________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin ​@void-hoechlin @abyssaint @heeeyitskay @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lovelydarkdaydream @soleil-dor @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @ninefuckingoneone  

[nalgenewhore]

masterlist - ao3 - last chapter - next chapter 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Lorcan collapsed onto his back down on the cool grass, panting heavily and tossing a tattooed arm over his eyes.

He fucking hated cardio. 

Hill sprints were the worst, but he had figured they would wake him up the best. As he caught his breath, he stared up at the pale blue sky, dotted with fluffy clouds, dyed orange from the sunrise. 

There was nothing like the sunrises of his hometown and that quickly, Lorcan was cursing his aunt. She couldn’t have just let him be, let him resent his father for not being there, for never having time for him or his sisters. 

Aneha and Sadirah hadn’t wanted him to go to Perranth, but Lorcan figured… he owed his father that much. To see someone of his blood on the throne, he supposed. 

Elide was a complication. Since moving in, he had hardly seen her. 

More often than not, he ate some sort of dinner with Rowan, the old friends catching up on the years they’d missed. Lorcan thought, out of everyone, Rowan’s reaction to his pursual was the one he’d dreaded the most. 

He wouldn’t ever admit it, but he had been terrified. Their friendship and previous relationship had both been built on complete honesty. Rowan hadn’t been mad, per se, more hurt. Angered, but not angry, on Elide’s behalf. 

Their relationship intrigued Lorcan. They acted not unlike him and his sisters. 

His thoughts circled back to Elide, like always. Lorcan mentally berated himself, unable to wipe the look of hurt that flashed over her face when she saw him again. Fuck, why couldn’t he just mind his own business? She could handle herself. 

Lorcan sat up, groaning in pain at the stiffness of his tired muscles. There’s a reason you don’t sit down after working out, dumbass, he thought to himself. He braced his hands behind him, pushing his body up. 

A blurred form moved towards him, crashing into him. In his unbalanced state, Lorcan fell back and let out a soft grunt. He looked up, finding a very heavy dog standing on his chest. Before he could do anything, he heard someone cackling. 

He couldn’t move, so he moved his head to the side, seeing Elide standing on the gravel path. She was laughing so hard, she had to bend over, her hands clutching her stomach. Lorcan rolled his eyes, turning his gaze back to the very fluffy animal. “Hey, bud,” he said, letting the dog sniff him. 

Elide called for her pet, “Bear, c’mere!” 

Bear snapped her head up, quickly bounding away and digging her back feet into Lorcan’s gut as a jumping off point. He swore low and slowly got to his feet. “Morning, Elide.” 

“Fuck off and go fuck yourself,” she said in a fraudulently sweet voice, her round lips flashing him a honeyed grin.

He laughed, unable to control how he perked up when she gave him her attention, “Eat shit and die.” Lorcan didn’t miss the way she ogled his half-bare body. Her face went a bit slack as she tracked her gaze over his chest. 

He could’ve sworn her cheeks pinked when they dipped lower. “Like the view, do you, sweetheart?” The moment the words left his mouth, her blush disappeared and she flipped him off before putting her earbuds back in and continuing on with her jog. 

Lorcan cursed himself, watching her ass in her spandex shorts. He liked seeing her blush, would’ve liked to learn how else he could make her cheeks turn red without him pissing her off. 

He had to remind himself Elide was a complication. Nothing more, nothing less.

 +*+*+*+*+*+*

Sweetheart. 

Oh, how Elide loathed Lorcan Salvaterre with her entire being. Him being built like that only served to make her hate it that much more. People with chests as defined as his and his gods-damned Adonis belt… Anneith above. She forgot the point she was trying to make.

His tattoos fit him well. They were harsh, stark black against his skin, depicting what she assumed was a legend of his people, but she couldn’t tell. 

She left Bear with the groundskeeper for the day and walked to the entertainment room. Aelin, Rowan, and Lysandra were sitting in the plush movie chairs. Ress, ever dutifully, stood beside the door, his arms crossed over his chest. 

Elide threw herself down on the couch, scowling at the PowerPoint Lysandra and Aelin had put together of her options. “Let’s get this over with.” Aelin, from the chair closest to the couch, reached over and squeezed Elide’s knee reassuringly. 

Elide softened, lacing her fingers through Aelin’s as Lysandra clicked the remote. “Alright, there are many options, Elide. First up, Duke Perrington of Adarlan.” 

Looking at the slide, her instincts screamed no. Elide read the side profile next to his picture, which was less than promising. “Hmm, rich man… he’s only forty-two? He looks like he’s at least seventy years old.” 

“I think that’s the drug problem,” Rowan commented, glaring at the screen. “Not him.” 

Lysandra nodded and ticked something off on her list, clicking on the next slide, “Nox Owens? No title, but wealthy family, high education, early twenties…” 

Elide tilted her head to the side, surveying the picture. He was handsome, fresh faced. Startlingly slate-grey eyes, his hair inky and falling artfully over his brow. There was a certain edge of mischief in his eyes that Elide appreciated. “And he’s from Perranth?” 

“Mm-hmm. Has a business degree from Havilliard College for Boys,” Lysandra said, twirling her pen skillfully between her fingers. “What do you think?” 

Elide hummed, drumming her fingers over the couch cushion. “Shortlist him. Do we have any non-Erilean options? A marriage would strengthen political ties.” Rowan shot her a look, displeased by her surgical, logical approach to it. Elide didn’t care. If she was being forced into a no-doubt loveless marriage, she might as well gain allies because of it. 

“We do,” Aelin said, sighing softly as she took the remote from Lysandra and clicked through some of the options. Elide made her stop on one and turned, gawking at Aelin. 

“Hollin Havilliard? The sixteen-year old?” 

The queen shrugged, “They don't have a minimum marriageable age in Adarlan.” 

“Well, we have one here,” Elide hissed, snatching the remote from her cousin. “I don’t need a new reason for the lords to hate me and marrying a child won’t exactly help me.” She shook her head, holding back a few very choice words back. 

She clicked through the next few slides, shaking her head no at the Southern Empire’s eldest, Arghun and his younger brother, Kashin. “I have no interest in fighting for another crown.” 

They debated and argued for the rest of the slideshow, all feeling frayed when they arrived at the very last slide. 

Lysandra looked exhausted, slumping her shoulders, “And the last man is… Fenrys Marama, Lord of Doranelle.” 

Rowan, who had just taken a sip of water, choked, coughing violently. The women looked at him curiously, their brows raised. Elide asked, “Are you alright?” 

He nodded, his face bright red, “Yeah, I’m fine.” His voice was strained and he drank deeply from his glass. “Please, continue.” 

Elide looked at him weirdly, but turned her attention back to Fenrys. “He’s so pretty,” she said, looking at the picture of him smiling. His teeth were straight and pearly white, one deep dimple on his right cheek. He wore his coily, dense hair in long, halfway thick locks. Gold wire cuffs adorned them sporadically, the light jewellery making an arresting contrast against his deep, umber complexion.

He had a short-bridged, wide nose that centred nicely on his face, the glint of a simple septum ring shining. 

“What do we know about him?” she asked someone, the question directed at no one in particular. 

“He isn’t set to inherit anything because he’s the second born twin to his brother, Connall. He’s twenty-two, just passed the LSAT with a 174 and has applied to a couple Terrasenian law schools,” Lysandra said. “Has a bit of a playboy reputation, but hasn’t been in any tabloids or articles for the past couple months.” 

Someone made a strangled sound behind them. Elide turned, her face showing concern for Ress. “Ress, are you alright?” 

Her bodyguard dropped his gaze, looking down at the carpeted floor, “Yeah, um, I just- excuse me for a minute.” He didn’t wait another second before fleeing from the room, the door slamming shut behind him. 

They all looked at each other in bewilderment, utterly confused by Ress’ strange behaviour.  

Aelin was the first to shrug, “He must not be feeling well.” Rowan nodded and stood up. “And where are you going?” 

“I have to call someone,” he said smoothly, kissing her cheek and messing up Elide’s hair. “Bye, Lyss.” 

Lysandra waved, spared by his juvelinity, “Good-bye, Rowan.” The silver-haired man closed the door quietly and his footsteps receded down the hall. “So, Fenrys?” 

Elide looked at Aelin, nodding once, “Fenrys.” 

 +*+*+*+*+*+*

Rowan checked his watch again, anxiously looking at the time over and over. He felt like he could feel the light tick against his skin and it put him on edge. 

Being on time had never exactly been Lorcan’s strong suit. 

Two minutes later, Lorcan strolled into the bar, nodding serenely in recognition as their eyes met. He moved carefully through the packed bar, more mindful of his movements due to his larger stature. 

There was already a glass of whiskey waiting for him as he slid onto the stool across the small table. “Hey, Ro,” he said, taking a slow sip of the amber liquor. “How’s, uh, Elide?” 

Rowan shot Lorcan a look, warning him not to push it. “How do you think, Lorcan? She graduated university less than a month ago and now she’s getting married to someone she doesn’t fucking know.” He didn’t need to tell Lorcan it was his fault. 

Lorcan flinched and averted his gaze, remorse shining in his dark eyes. “I… yeah.” He toyed with the elastic on his wrist, pulling it back and letting it snap against his skin over and over. Eventually, he shoved his hair into a messy bun at his nape, his fingers drumming restlessly over the table. “Did she find someone?” 

Rowan leaned back on his seat, cocking his head to the side, “What’s it to you?” 

Lorcan shrugging, “Nothing, I don’t care either way.” Rowan snorted, shaking his head as he sipped on his drink. “What? Who is it? Don’t tell me it’s someone like Perrington or any Adarlanian guy.” 

“Thought you didn’t care,” Rowan said, his interest piqued by Lorcan’s… consideration. That he cared enough to know who an eligible husband would be. It made some sense, he would’ve planned this out with Maeve and Vernon. 

Rowan pushed away the thought that Lorcan wouldn’t do that. He couldn’t think about that now. 

“I don’t care, but if the first time we met, I… I dunno, saved her, I guess, from some gross little lordling. It’d be hypocritical of me to force a marriage between her and some junkie like Perrington,” Lorcan said, staring down at his whiskey like the crystal glass held all the answers of the universe. 

“Why did you dance with her, Lor,” Rowan asked quietly, his voice tired. 

Lorcan muttered something, his shoulders curling down, “She looked like she needed help. I know I’m a prick, but not that kind.” He knocked back the rest of his drink, grabbing Rowan’s empty glass as he got up to walk over to the bar. Lorcan stepped away, pausing when a thought crossed his mind. “So did they choose?” 

“Yeah,” Rowan said, meeting Lorcan’s nervous gaze. “They did.” 

“Hellas, Ro, fucking tell me already.” 

“It’s Fen.”

+*+*+*+*+*+*

an: .....hehe 🤭 

more: Fenrys' last name "marama" means light in a variety of polynesian languages ! ummm basically i think moonbeam is a stupid name and so did my lovely friend ezra @tinywolfofeyllwe​ so he came up with this name ! all creds go to him and im very thankful he lets me use it haha 

also ! both lorcan's sisters' names (aneha and sadirah) are tweaked from stars/constellations i thought were pretty ! this will be more apparent later, but i write lorcan as indigenous in all my fics (specifically lakota) so just keep that in mind for the future ! 

@mythicaitt​​​ @tinywolfofeyllwe​​​ @schmlip-scribble​​​ @the-regal-warrior​​​ @empire-of-wildfire​​​ @ladyverena​​​ @ttakeitbacknoww​​​ @shyvioletcat​​​ @alifletcher2012​​​ @tswaney17​​​ @ourbooksuniverse​​​  @flora-and-fae​​​ @thesirenwashere​​​ @queenofxhearts​​​ @maastrash​​​ @mynewdreamwasyou​​​ @cursebreaker29​​​ @empress-ofbloodshed​​​ @b00kworm​​​ @hizqueen4life​​​ @silversprings98​​​ @amren-courtofdreams​​​ @minaidss​​​ @superspiritfestival​​​ @sanakapoor​​​ @ireallyshouldsleeprn​​​​ @spyofthenightcourt​​​​ @januarystears​​​​ @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln​​ @magicalunicorngypsy​ @elriel4life​

[regrettablewritings]

If you are so inclined. I’m in love with the way you write for one Dewey Finn. So. Perhaps letters F, M, O, and W?

Heehee~ Welcome to the cult, fledgling :3

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?):

Dewey knows he’s in love when he realizes he’s growing beyond himself.

He’s a pretty forward guy at first glance: He’s loud, he’s impulsive, he lives his life according to the rules of rock ‘n roll. So you wouldn’t be blamed for buying into the idea that he’s about as confident as he acts, completely forgetting the fact that Dewey is, in fact, very low on actual self-esteem deep down. He knows he’s not the tallest, he knows he’s no Adonis by any means (hell, he’s lucky if he can even be considered a Dionysus at this point), and even though he’s aware that realistically, there is no race in growing up (especially at this age), he still feels insecure about where he appears to be compared to his peers.

But you stick around anyway, which is weird to him in a sense, but also very nice because having you around means he doesn’t have to think about how crappy he feels about himself. When you’re around, he can goof about and make jokes. He can pretend like he’s going to eat the last slice of pizza, only to pop it in your mouth because he knows you’ve had a rough day and it’ll cheer you up. He has someone there to remind him that sometimes he actually needs a plan before he does a task that’ll land him flat on his ass. Hell, he even enjoys show tunes more openly because seeing you sing and dance to them makes him want to join in, too, and  --

That’s when it hits him. Well, not exactly then, but in the moments in between where he’s by himself. He generally doesn’t like these moments because for so long, they’ve just been moments where he falls into introspection (something he’s already terrible at) and winds up falling further down a rabbit hole of despair.

But after a while of dating you, these moments of introspection start to change. It starts off small, barely noticeable. Until one day, he manages to take a look at himself and not think himself into a flinch; he just thinks, “Hm. That’s . . . not a good thing about me. I should probably fix that . . .” And he does. Well, he makes the effort to. Which is certainly more than he would’ve two years ago. He has no idea where this energy has actually come from, however. Maybe he’s more confident because he’s found a purpose in life? A relatively steady job? Or --

Yup. That’s when it hits him: Maybe he was giving you the last slice because he didn’t feel comfortable being greedy like normal and he wants you to feel nurtured in some way; maybe he’s letting you help him plan things because that’s the responsible thing to do instead of just fucking bullrushing into every damn thing; maybe he’s enjoying musicals a bit more than he ever would’ve admitted because, well, there really is more to rock ‘n roll than he would normally like to admit. There’s more to himself than he would normally be able to see.

And you see that in him. Sure, you see this chubby, overexcited and brazen rock god wannabe. But you also see this insecure guy doing his best, who has the actual drive and potential to be something far greater than what even he knows -- he just needs the right push.

He’s glad you’re his push.

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?):

It’s difficult for Dewey to actually choose to be quite honest. He absolutely treasures memories where he’s able to marry his two passions in life: You and music. Does he go with the first time you saw him perform with the School of Rock? The first time he heard you play chords he’d taught you? The first time you two did karaoke together?

No, actually. Because try as he might, it’s actually a lot simpler than that: Date night at Fat Sam’s Donut Hut. It was after 9 in the evening, and you two had hunkered down in a booth and were having way too much fun playing a dumb little game where one would sing a tune of a song but only using the word “donuts” until the other one guessed what it was.

It was so. Stupid. And that was probably why the both of you kept playing it (well, that, and competitiveness). He was actually quite surprised with how many of yours he was actually able to get right, considering many of them were actually pop songs and musicals specifically chosen to throw him off. He didn’t even know he knew anything from Putnam Spelling Bee! He’s not even sure why this particular memory warms him up inside at first, but he theorizes that it may have something to do with the absurdity of it all, or the authenticity of it.

And while those are certainly contributions, the reality of it is that later that evening, post-shower, he took a moment to glance at himself in the mirror. He can’t help but swear he looks . . . a little different. He’s still weighty, but it’s almost like he’s carrying differently. Like his normally godawful posture has progressed to just, well, mediocre posture. There’s some color to his cheeks that he knows isn’t there due to the hot shower. And honestly? He probably thinks this way because he actually feels good about himself for a change. Huh. Weird . . . He wonders why . . .

And that was when it clicked that he loved you.

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?):

Bright orange. If only because of a rather unfortunate hair dye incident . . . Also maybe black, but that’s only because that was the color of the wig you had to wear until you could get your hands on some dye. He tries to nickname you based on the orange color, but it turns out Orn’gy Porn’gy/Orgy Porgy just . . . He can’t get away with that.

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?):

Bold of you to assume he would ever want to get married. (Okay, but seriously, I actually had fics planned surrounding some of these topics, how dare you make me have to skirt around things in this?)

Dewey actually never really put much thought into marriage for most of his life. Maybe because marriage and rock goddom generally don’t mix. Or maybe it’s because watching his parents’ failed marriage scarred him more than he would like to think or admit . . . Nah, it has to be that first bit. After all, what could be cooler than not having to settle down, being able to travel the road, bang a groupie on every continent? Settling down with in a nice, safe environment created by the both of you’s contributions of excitement and cooperation, thus giving him a sense of belonging and accomplishment the likes of which he’s secretly felt lacking for much of his life?

. . . Oh, shit, that actually does sound pretty nice if he has to think about it.

So nice, in fact, that he just blurted it out as the two of you sat on the floor of the apartment together.

“Hey . . . Do you wanna get married?”

He wants to kick himself for its shitty delivery. It sounds less like he’s asking you for your hand and more like he’s an overly curious kindergartner snooping about his teacher’s private life!

And suddenly, the normally thoughtless Dewey Finn is abuzz with everything wrong with this scene. He didn’t plan this out; he hadn’t begun the week thinking, “I’m going to propose to this beautiful fool”, much less woken up that morning thinking that. He wished he had taken a note from your book and put himself on hold to think this through. Maybe then he could’ve thought about enlisting Ned’s help and making the moment memorable. He knew fancy establishments weren’t your cup of tea, but at least going to a nice place might’ve commemorated the evening. He at least could’ve grabbed a cupcake or something from the bodega a few blocks down. But he didn’t.

And now you’re going to reject him or, at the very least, strangle him or give him the silent treatment or --

“Really?” It’s not said with the bemusement or cynicism he had expected. In fact, if anything, it sounded . . . hopeful.

Okay, credit where credit is due: Sometimes, it helps to be spontaneous.

Thanks for asking!

[a-woman-apart]

Separating the Boys from the Men

Yes, that title is click bait, and if you keep reading, you’ve been warned. I’ve got a lot to get off my chest, and it’s going to involve defending masculinity, femininity, and our right to BEHAVE LIKE CHILDREN FOR THE REST OF OUR LIVES because in many ways, we already do. 

Let’s get straight to the point. As Millennials, regardless of our age, financial status, or level of “success” (air quotes 100% intentional) we have been accused of being lazy, entitled, and way too enthusiastic about avocado toast. At the same time, we have been described as having enough power to decimate the napkin industry, the diamond industry, and the concept of traditional marriage. We have been accused of a collective “Peter Pan” syndrome, because we “refuse” to cut off papa’s apron strings and get off the proverbial mama’s teats. 

Wonderful to know. 

Let’s unpack the “lazy” bit. Supposedly, this is tied to the fact that we have access to higher education, we [often, not always] have parents who financially support or house us well into adulthood. 

So now, my question is, Gen X (the entitled ones, ironically) and Salty Boomers, YOU DIDN’T? 

What do you call that “inheritance” you received? What do you call that education your parents paid for that was less than 1/3 what we have to pay? For Boomers, how do you explain the lavish weddings, cheap [and apparently nuke proof] home appliances, and “nights out on the town” that you were able to afford by working at whatever passed for a McDonald’s back in the day? Working on a farm, at a grocery store, or in retail used to ACTUALLY provide a livable wage; for us, those are a “side hustle” and we still have to get a “big boy job” that usually requires an education that can put us over $100,000 in debt by age 30. 

Hate to say it, but if you hadn’t made most of your income “during the War” or in  the absolute economic boom that followed it, you wouldn’t survive 24 hours in our shoes before having an emotional collapse.  

Despite the disastrous living conditions of the U.S. in the 21st Century, not much has changed in how men define their level of “manliness.” 

Financial gains (stocks, bonds, portfolio, bank account) 

Bro “gains” (a.k.a. “gym gains”, how “Gaston” they are, including whether they want to go for the Adonis, Apollo, or Brawny boi look, or just how far they can throw something or how “boyish” they look if strength isn’t an option and they suffer from femme-levels of body dysmorphia) 

Body count (since we’re in a time of peace and not literally war, this is LITERALLY a modern term describing how many people you’ve slept with, and I have never heard an adult man, regardless of sexual orientation, who isn’t a little concerned about putting those notches in the bed post, and if not that, VERY concerned about his bedroom performance: it’s quality vs. quantity) 

Kill death Ratio (I know this is a video game term now, but did you know that before video games, men in England used to regularly get on horseback, get a bunch of hounds together, and chase down tiny foxes and rabbits? FOR FUN?!?!? Did you know, that before modern sports ((including Esports)), men used to just fight to the death, regularly, even if an official war wasn’t going on? It was known as “dueling”, and in less socially developed societies, men still behave like this. So the next time you complain about “male rage” and how heartless it is to make live chickens fight, note that even though we’ve quelled male anger and hostility on some level, you will NEVER be able to take away man’s urge to destroy. Boys and men will always like knocking things over, building things from the rubble, and ruling shit. It’s what they do-- and we women can and do, too, but we have a LOT more risk-aversion and self-preservation, which is a blessing and a curse for our species-- but we just need to make sure humanity as a whole stays...chill)

So what, say ye, has changed about how WOMEN define themselves now vs. in the past. I would say that very little has changed, but the level of internalized misogyny, insecurity, and good-old fashioned denial has SKYROCKETED. 

Let’s look at some terms of how the majority of women value themselves. 

Financial Security (few women will admit to “wanting to be rich”, because that sounds kind of “Trump”, but plenty will talk about having minimum income requirements for their partner(s), wanting to retire at a young age so they can “travel the world”, wanting to eliminate their debts, etc. It’s different language but essentially it translates to: I want to work so hard or marry into so much wealth that I never want to worry about money after age 35. #Hustle) 

Looks (it doesn’t matter if you want a Kardashian butt, you’re in the body positivity movement, or you just want to “dress like a bawse” women are just as obsessed with clothes, image, and body weight/shape/size as they ever were, it is just that now that we’ve “slain the patriarchy” we have more fashion options than ever before, because “boy clothes” are just as “in” as femme ones)

Ability to attract a partner (some women, like me, “chase”, but thanks to biology, most women, regardless of sexual orientation, seem to enjoy being pursued more than being Artemis-style hunters. This is evidenced by the fact that when the feminist owner of Bumble changed the rules of the dating website to where women had to start conversations with men rather than vice versa ((a move that had ostensibly zero effect on lesbian matching)) 72% of women that she later surveyed stated that they liked it better when men were approaching them rather than the other way around. I am sure Bumble’s female CEO was shook ((as was I)), especially because she made the change to empower women, and apparently 72% of women didn’t want the power because it meant they now had the power to face rejection, and it made them uncomfortable. Big yikes. So much for #EndPatriarchy and #ChivalryisDead ?)

Playing house (this is probably going to get me some unfollows, but I’ll take my chances. Women, regardless of sexual orientation, often seem to be REALLY into having babies or just “playing house.” There’s also men like this, too, “Family men” as they’re aptly called, men in love with fatherhood ((or just being called “daddy”, and that will never not be weird)). So many women who never want to pop out a baby describe being taken by an OVERWHELMING urge to fuck during their “fertile window” ((or is that just me?)) and seeing every baby alive as the cutest human being ever once we pass the tender age of 25. The biological clock is REAL, and I learned the hard way that being bisexual and having immense fear of pregnancy and childbirth didn’t spare me from the awful truth of my biology. 

I really don’t want to keep making references to modern video games, but they seem to serve the dual purpose of being deeply satisfying and helping us to quell “problematic” urges, including that one to dominate and destroy the world. For a lot of women gamers, though, our choices ((on a broad scale, every #girlgamer is different)) deviate from men’s in some interesting ways. 

#1: We still love The Sims Franchise way more than guys do 

Not only do we love it, but while a lot of men (again, #notallmen) tend to build elaborate neighborhoods to extensively mod and destroy them in terrifying ways, I still see women gamers taking obscene amounts of time to design homes, raise happy little families, and cause TERRIFYING blood feuds by having Sims marry Sims from rival families ((I guess we’re more Shakespeare than we thought, eh ladies?))

#2: We make up most of mobile gaming

Most male gamers think mobile games “aren’t real” and I tend to agree, but a mobile game is invaluable for when I, a woman, have time to kill between the 3 jobs I hypothetically have and I and don’t want to whip out something like a Nintendo 2DS that is both unwieldly and attracts the eyes of every impoverished, thieving human being in a .5 mile radius. #RiskAversion. These games are often low-quality, mindless, and insanely easy, but that is WHY WE LIKE THEM. Our entire life is a job. #Hustle

#3 We also love farming sims and RPGs

While we-- and most male Millennials-- beg god to not have to birth calves, milk cows, or labor in the tomato fields under the hot sun, most of us have no objection to having our virtual avatars perform the same back-breaking tasks to the tune of cheerful chiptune music. Also, even though men definitely enjoy them, too, I have never met a woman gamer who didn’t enjoy a nice RPG; why do you think we’re such avid readers of fantasy/romance YA? 

We want to be transported to a different world, and if you won’t take us there, we’re happy to go there virtually ((because we probably can’t afford travel; we’re still millennials)). 

Ability to murder people who threaten our young or our partner(s) (Okay this one is a bit more complicated, but I’m just going to tell you a bit about female animals. DON’T MESS WITH THEIR BABIES IF YOU WANT TO LIVE. Human females, are, in that regard, just as savage, if not more so, than our male counterparts. 

I’ve never heard of any woman ((outside of prison, maybe)) who killed another woman for “looking at her weird” or saying “your mama” too many times. I’ve heard plenty of women threaten literal murder because another woman ((or man, we’re #progressive)) came too close to her romantic/sexual partner, or another human being threatened harm on our kids or our “squad.” 

I don’t know where the meme truly originated from, but “Don’t talk to me or my son ever again” is SUCH a Mom thing to say. So much misandry is wrapped up in the idea that men are predators, and that is true, but not in the excessively sexually deviant ways you think ((that’s only sometimes true)). They just like hunting things, including people, but if you give them a toy to play with ((I MEAN ACTUAL TOY OMG)) they seem alright. Let them go play with their cars, Xbox, [insert whatever] or something. They’re men, okay, they’re easily distracted/impressed/occupied. 

Women, on the other hand, have seemed to be having an EXTREME amount of trouble curbing that baby-making urge, or the Excessive Nurturing Urge, that one that makes you ask your grown husband if he’s remembered to pack lunch for work or if he remembered to pack money for his playdate with his bros, because he’s gonna need money at Six Flags and you aren’t going to bring it to him because he should’ve remembered, you reminded him 30093390 times. 

THAT’S NOT HIS FAULT. HE HAS MANAGED BY SOME MIRACLE TO STAY ALIVE FOR 33 YEARS. THAT’S YOU, SWEETIE. STOP BEING SUCH A MOM. GO BE A NURSE, DOCTOR, OR SOCIAL WORKER OR SOMETHING OMG. 

In summary...

What separates the “men from the boys” or the “women from the girls” isn’t the era that we were born in to, our economic status, or whether we’ve been able to “conquer” our biology. That’s definitely not possible yet, chiefly because transhumanism involves a lengthy, ethics-guided process, and even if we all turn into cyborgs, the goal is to become BETTER humans, not LESS humane. Societal advancements have done more in terms of making us healthier, less destructive citizens of planet earth than raw technology ever can and ever will. Rapid technological advancement, when not combined with respect for morality, ethical standards of living for humans and all other life forms, almost always leads to human slavery, widespread abuse of animals, sex trafficking, and environmental destruction, because the “rules of supply and demand”, when not governed by strong international trade laws, dictate that consumers should be supplied with whatever they demand, because the suppliers can profit, and their right to profit should be defended at any cost. 

So, in summary, I believe that “adulting” involves giving up on entitlement. What separates a truly childish human being-- regardless of their actual age-- from someone who is, in essence, “adulting” is experience, and how much those experiences serve to broaden that person’s perspective. It is an extremely childish, self-centered view, to think that you “deserve” anything for being “a good person” or, in the case of many a “woman child” or “man child” in media and in real life, just being “not so bad.” 

Grown-ups are able and willing to do something that is known as “delaying gratification” which is the simple ability to delay a temporary pleasure for a long-term gain. Grown-ups are also able to perform true “cost-benefit analyses” to determine if a course of action, business deal, or even relationship is worth their time and effort. Finally, grown-ups are able and willing and able to make an informed choice and stick to it; in essence, we don’t try to “have our cake and eat it too” we understand that once we’ve eaten that cake, the cake is gone, but we also realize that if we are willing to work hard and make sacrifices, we can earn the ingredients to make ourselves another cake to eat, even if we might need a lot of help from other adults in getting those ingredients (we call this teamwork and cooperation). 

Children, on the other hand (in literal and metaphorical terms), are very impatient. They get angry when things don’t go their way, and instead of taking the steps needed to improve their situation, they storm off and return home. It doesn’t matter if their home is with their parents, with their 3 roommates, or with their husband or wife, these people throw tantrums, refuse to communicate/cooperate, and stew in their displeasure until someone feels sorry for them and fixes their problem for them. They lack the ability to work through daily life problems and refuse to take any responsibility for how their actions or inaction contributed to their dilemma. 

There is one difference with an actual human child or teen, though, is that they have an excuse. Their brains are still developing, and they haven’t had the chance to live through these situations yet; these are new challenges to them. Even if they do have a “bad attitude”, with help from peers and patients, principled adult mentors and teachers, these cantankerous kids can grow into well-adjusted, able adults. The high levels of neuroplasticity in their brains actually make it so that it is easier for them to accept large amounts of sensory data and to learn from processing and practicing using it.

An “adult child” is someone who, more often than not, has been coddled instead of challenged. These people have often faced no significant hardships in life. There is a reason why, even after we have recognized the immense downsides of authoritarian parenting and have demonstrated psychological harms of corporal punishment for kids, we still call “bad kids” and “irresponsible adults” spoiled. 

Authoritarianism produces rigid, scared people who often struggle with critical thinking and self-esteem or end up being authoritarian parents themselves, but that last one is actually one of the less likely options. Children of authoritarian parents often develop Borderline Personality Disorder or become defiant against authority (shocker). Overly permissive or overly neglectful parenting, though, are parental styles most associated with producing narcissists, who often become authoritarian parents, because when their kids challenge them, they completely lack the patience or emotional capacity to deal with it and resort to “because I said so”, stonewalling and/or physical abuse as forms of “character-building.” 

The reason why overly permissive parents spoil their kids is because kids actually do need discipline and guidance, and so these kinds of parents produce kids who are outwardly capable and confident but completely lack any of the life skills to justify it, and when they ask their parents for advice they are just met with a bunch of hippie mumbo jumbo or told to just avoid the conflict rather than resolve it. These kids grow into adults who are still sad little kids inside, because they never grew up, but now they’re sad little kids who are articulate and well-spoken and now can-- and often have no choice-- but to con their way through adult life because they’ve maxed out Charisma and they have almost no points in Strength, Intelligence, Wisdom, or Dexterity.

The only parenting style worse than Authoritarian and Neglectful/Permissive is Mixed, in which a child grows up in a COMPLETELY unpredictable environment where the rules of the game change from day to day, and parents either give their children no attention at all, or they practically lock them up and throw away the key. Being raised like this is associated with the worse outcomes for the child throughout life. 

So, why am I now talking about parenting styles? Because, for all that we love to trash Boomers and large swaths of Gen X on this page, we can’t forget where they came from, so we cannot allow them to forget WHO THEY MADE. It isn’t an accident that even though we live in the times of incredible economic hardship, WE are the generation (and Gen Z, to some extent) that got hooked on reality TV, video games, and social media in incredibly unhealthy ways. A lot of us 30+ millennials are growing out of it, and a lot of us have realized that it is an invaluable (and damn near unavoidable) way of marketing our products and talents. We’re often self-employed because that’s our only option in most cases. 

The issue with Gen Z (who, while we called “Zoomers” now just all themselves “Doomers” and I think we should be a bit concerned about that) is that unlike us, they have no memory of “Before the Internet.” We remember dial up, we remember before that when you played outside untl the sun went down. They don’t have the privilege of being linked to that history. 

Now, we have to be the Bigger Person. It’s our time to be Grown-Ups. Gen Z feels really fucking lost right now, and hearing us whine about our parents probably makes them pretty pissed off, when some of us older millennials are the parents, aunts/uncles, and older siblings to Gen Z kids. Even if we can’t be mentors, we have to lead by example, because we have a responsibility to these kids. A lot of them aren’t stupid, they see exactly what’s happening and they feel incredibly hopeless about it. Greta Thunberg is still 16 years old. She shouldn’t be out there doing that; I mean seriously, climate change is accelerating, but it isn’t even as bad as Al Gore said, it’s still reversible, but the fact that SHE FELT SHE HAD TO makes us shitty people. ALL OF US. 

So you know, we all need to stop being hypocrites. We need to stop being entitled. We need to stop thinking this is about us. It isn’t. Not even close. We’re not important, even if our videos go viral or if we’re swimming in cash next to hot models by a huge swimming pool. America’s fucked up. I hate to sound Republican, but it’s because of our values. We suck at valuing what’s important, and if we don’t change that soon, it’s really going to suck to live in America. 

It already does.  

[disasterdeacy]

Harder, Faster, Stronger

A/N: I’m not exactly happy with this, but it’s something! Maybe setting up for a part 2??? Not too sure, either way, enjoy!

Pairing: Present Day!Brian May x Young Reader, Slight Gwilym Lee x Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Summary: Brian isn’t usually the jealous type, but after seeing you and Gwilym a little too close to his liking, he’s shocked by just how jealous he can get.

Warnings: 18+, Age Gap, Dom!Brian, For Once lol

To say that the air around you was balmy could probably be seen as the biggest understatement of the century. England, as well as the rest of the world, was currently gripped in a global warming induced heat wave that was murdering every single shred of dignity humanity had left. People who normally wouldn’t be seen in anything less than a 3 piece suit were trampling around London in shorts that would make Daisy Duke blush, and shirts that left little to the imagination. But it was a necessity, everything was nearly on fire, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Citizens of London realized the heat was getting serious when the Central Line went down for a day and a half to install Air Con units on all of its trains to prevent a heat stroke. That incident was what seemingly broke the camels back and convinced Brian to invite all of your friends around for a pool party and BBQ in an attempt to fight off the scalding air. You were absolutely overjoyed, not that it would be a big change from what you’d been doing for the past week anyway. Ever since the thermometer on the pool deck decided that it was too hot to read the temperature, you’d been in the pool. Brian couldn’t complain about the weather either really, not when he had the pleasure of seeing you waltz around the house in nothing but a bikini that was, if you were both being honest, was a little small on you. Not that he minded at ALL, no he rather enjoyed the way the fabric stretched over your ass and tits, the way it could barely contain what your body was giving it. You’d complained a few times that you needed a new bathing suit, that this one was bought 15 pounds ago, but Brian insisted on you keeping this one, and this one alone. He soon found out that this decision was a grave mistake in his part, as soon as Gwilym walked through the back gate of the house along with Ben and the rest of the guests who’d been invited. Honestly, had you had a bit more time to plan for this party, you would’ve gone out and gotten a new bathing suit, one that fit you better, one that didn’t cause Brian to become some feral animal every time you walked past him. However, that just wasn’t how the cookie had crumbled, and here you were, bright red bikini barely covering your dignity as you chatted up Gwilym while lounging on a float, sunglasses perched on your nose. The younger man and yourself had become quite close since you and Brian started dating, seeing as how he was only around a decade older than you. Gwilym had been one of the first people to openly support your relationship, and because of that, he held a special place in your heart. When other people had torn you down, he’d built you up. He was a fantastic friend, but nothing more. But to Brian, watching the younger man pull laugh after laugh from your auburn throat, the way you threw your head back and smacked his steadily burning shoulders... Now, Brian didn’t exactly picture himself as a particularly jealous man, no, in fact he considered himself quite level headed and relaxed when it came to situations such as these. He trusted you, he LOVED you, and he knew that you loved him, that you would never even think about doing something that could potentially hurt him in any way... but he also knew that he’d not exactly been the most monogamous man in his past, and he was afraid that someday, his past would come back to give him a heaping dose of his own medicine. So, while his logical and reasonable brain was calming informing him that you and Gwilym were just relaxing and enjoying a warm day in the pool, his emotionally charged nuclear reactor brain was screeching at him like a banshee that the blue eyed Adonis of a man wanted nothing more than to plunge his cock as far into your pretty young cunt as his body would allow him, and that you would happily accept. Brian wasn’t stupid, he had seen the way Gwilym’s eyes had raked over your curves when he’d arrived, hadn’t missed the way his young hands had traveled dangerously low when you’d hugged him. He was fuming, feeling a wave of emotions he’d felt many times in the past when he would walk around town with you on his arm, watching how every young man, and woman, within a 3 block radius would take in your figure, their eyes dark with lustful thoughts of your legs wrapped around various parts of their bodies. But he wasn’t feeling that, no this wasn’t jealousy, this was a primal animalistic urge to protect what was his. “Don’t look now, but I’m pretty sure our dear Doctor is anything but pleased based on the glare he’s shooting us.” Gwilym’s words were spoken lightly into your ear with a hint of amusement, his blue eyes scrunched up at the corners thanks to the glowing ball of rage in the sky. Laughing, you raise your head from the pillow of the float and train your eyes to the patio above the pool where your boyfriend was sat, a wine glass in his shaking hand, eyes trained on you. You smirk and push your sunglasses down a little on your nose so you can meet Brian’s eyes unobscured, and as soon as you can see the fury and heat in the hazel pools, that old familiar twinge settles itself deep in your lower belly. “Well, I’d better go see if I can remedy the situation before he breaks the good glasses then? You wriggle your eyebrows at your friend, who throws his head back in laughter as you slip off of the float and into the water. As you slink up the ladder, you shoot Gwil a mocking salute before padding across the pool deck, waving and chatting with some of the guests, your eyes trained on Brian, who not so subtly slams his wine glass down before storming inside when you reach the patio deck. Brian was beyond furious, mostly at himself because he KNEW that he had no reason to be worried or jealous. He knew that Gwilym was the furthest thing from a threat when it came to your relationship, and the fact that you’d gotten out of the pool and headed straight to him when you noticed his displeasure should’ve told him something... But he was so far gone in his head, in his primal desire to have you to himself, to think rationally. “Brian? Love, where are you honey?” Your voice is sickly sweet, the genuine concern laced in the question made his stomach turn a little. Of course you’d come look for him, you loved him, and he was an idiot. Sighing, he shuffles out of your shared bedroom, his face a deep red that you weren’t sure was from the sun or his obvious embarrassment. Smiling gently, you pad over to him, taking his hands into yours before bringing them up to your lips. “What’s wrong baby? You put the fear of god into Gwil when he saw you staring at us.” A little white lie never hurt anyone. Brian growls and not so gently takes his hands from yours, causing you to flinch back just a tad, shock written on your face. “Bri—“ You don’t even finish your sentence before his lips are on your’s, your back roughly pressed against the wall, causing a couple of picture frames to fall to the ground at the sheer force of which he’s heaved you into the wall. If he feels bad for how rough he was being, he certainly isn’t showing it, his teeth joining the party by biting down hard on your neck, his lips puckering around the mark to suck hard. He’d never been this rough with you before, had never tried to assert his dominance. If anything, you were the dominant one in your relationship, he preferred it that way, he didn’t like the possibility of hurting you... until today it seemed. Not that this pain was unwelcome, a little strange, but in the best possible way. “B-Bri, baby, w-what’s wrong” You would normally be embarrassed at how shaky and breathless your voice is, but not now. Not with Brian’s hands physically ripping the bikini top from your body, or with how the growls ripping through his throat were sending shock waves straight to your soaked cunt. The older man simply chuckles darkly and throws the ruined red fabric behind him, his mouth refusing to leave your skin as he speaks. “You really have to ask that Y/N? Do you really not know how fucking embarrassing it is to be sitting around watching you flirt and eye fuck Gwilym? Did you just think I wouldn’t notice you being such a goddamn slut?” He punctuates the sentence by dropping his lips to your nipple and sucking hard, his teeth grazing the sensitive bud. “O-oh! G-god, Bri, honey I-I wasn’t f-flirting with Gwil, w-we were just being friendly, y-you know I would n—“ Your words hitch in your throat when you feel his long calloused fingers drop into your swim bottoms, entering your dripping pussy without any warning, filling you up completely. You involuntarily lift up on your toes as his strong fingers press firmly against the entrance of your cunt. Your natural lubrication own juices helped guide his fingers in, but there was also the fact that your pussy itself was so incredibly aroused and open that soon Brian’s fingers were quickly wedged inside. “B-Bri! I-I d-didn’t—“ He cuts you off by hammering his fingers in and out of you at a breakneck pace, four of his fingers stretching you beyond belief. “You shut your goddamn mouth you fucking slut, am I understood? You’re gonna be a good silent little girl and let daddy show you exactly who you belong to, understood?” To be honest, he’s a little shocked at himself, at how he’s speaking to you, but when he feels your walls clenching and fluttering around his fingers, when he sees your eyes roll back in your head... he knows he’s just struck a gold mine. Reaching around your body with his other hand, he brings it down hard in your ass, not caring how hard he was being. “I said, understood?” His tone is dangerous and hard, completely unlike your sweet and gentle Bri, but goddamn if it wasn’t the sexiest thing you’d ever heard. “Y-yes sir, yes Daddy, I-I’ll be good for you, I promise!” You nod eagerly, tears streaming down your sun kissed cheeks. “I-I’ll be such a good girl, j-just tell me w-what Daddy wants!” Brian groans at your words, the desperate tone and the weak breathlessness, it was too much for him to handle. Pulling his fingers from you, he wastes no time before shoving them in your mouth, his eyes widening slightly when you take them all the way inside, sucking and whimpering at the taste of yourself on his legendary fingers. “God you really are such a slut aren’t you honey? Could Gwilym make you this wet? Could that little boy make your cunt ache like I can?” He feels a little bad, somewhere deep DEEP in his mind, for talking about Gwilym in this way. He really does love the kid, but he didn’t love the way the younger man’s actions made him act. You shake your head, whimpering when he pulls his fingers from your mouth, using his soaked hand to smack your ass, the clap of skin against skin echoing through the hallway. “No, no h-he can’t Brian, I-I’m all yours D-Daddy, I love you, p-please wanna make you feel good.” Those words, the way you begged, went straight to Brian’s cock, the throbbing member nearly sticking out of the top of his swim shorts. Not wanting to waste a second more, Brian brings your lips to his, kissing you gently and reassuringly, a complete 180 to his rough and dominant actions. You sigh in relief at his gentleness, but it doesn’t last long. Moving his hand to your hair, he rips his lips away, his hazel eyes nearly black thanks to his blown pupils, before he drags you by your hair down the hallway, back to the bedroom he’s just walked out of. “Ow! Daddy, i-it hurts!” It didn’t really, you weren’t exactly tender headed, but you wanted to be a bit of a brat, and if shone through with your next words, as he throws you on the bed. “please be nice to me...” Biting your lip, you attempt to look as innocent as possible, even managing to bring some tears back to your eyes. And for a split second, Brian pauses, concern and guilt flooding his system at his roughness. But, once he sees the way you spread your legs for him, those thoughts fly out the window. “You really think you deserve for me to be nice to you? You don’t deserve for me to even let you cum honey, you’ve been so fucking naughty, and naughty girls get punished, not rewarded.” His swim trunks are suddenly shed, and before either one of you can blink, his cock is buried deep inside of you, causing the both of you to let out groans of relief. “Y-you’re right Daddy, I-I’m so sorry for b-being so naughty, I promise I-I won’t be ever again, I promise I-I’ll be so good for you.” Your legs wrap tightly around his waist, heels digging into his ass, pushing him harder into you. Arms wrap around his neck involuntarily, just trying to find something to hold onto as he fucks into you mercilessly. You whimper pathetically, his cock nudging your g-spot with every fucking thrust, your cunt was still sensitive from his earlier finger fucking, so this was making you see stars in an insanely short amount of time. “Daddy, p-please, I need to c-cum please!” Brian reaches down from above you, his white curls falling around his scrunched up face, and wraps his hand gently around your neck, pressing down gently on the sides of your neck, just like he liked you to do to him. “W-what did I tell you baby, bad girls don’t g-get to cum, so y-you’re gonna take every ounce of what I g-give you, and that’s all you’re gonna get, understood?” You whimper, brain going haywire as you take in what he’s saying to you, but nod. “Y-yes sir, I-I won’t cum...” Now, Brian didn’t want to be cruel and prolong your torture, so with a renewed energy that comes out of left field, he starts to fucking rail you, his cock slipping out on more than a few occasions at the absolute flood of arousal your cunt was producing. It doesn’t take very long for him to reach his peak, his eyes rolling in the back of his head when he feels his balls tightening in the same way they always did when you were underneath him. “Oh, fuck—yes, there’s a good girl.” He growls out, eyes rolling back in his head as he starts coating your insides as his balls pulsed. He moans into your neck, legs trembling, but managing to keep himself upright above you, his hand loosening around your throat as you let out a little sigh of surprise at how much cum he was pumping into you. “T-thank you daddy, t-thank you for giving me your cum.” You were still wound tight as a copper coil, your orgasm so close, yet so far away, but you knew you wouldn’t be getting one anytime soon, and you weren’t exactly too sure you wanted one... Brian whimpers out something you don’t understand, but soon he pulls out of you, his cum running out of your cunt and down your ass, dripping onto the previously clean bedsheets. “Sorry love I-I’ll clean them later...” He collapses next to you, wrapping his arms tight around your trembling body, feeling slightly guilty for not taking care of you.... but he also knew that it would be worth it. “Are you okay? I didn’t overstep or hurt you did I? I’m sorry...” You chuckle a little in disbelief, pressing a kiss to his sweaty chest, running your fingers through the white curls on it. “Brian, baby, t-that was... that was incredible. Genuinely honey, I didn’t even cum and that was the hottest sex I’ve ever had.” He breathes a sigh of relief and nods, nuzzling his nose into your hair. “Don’t know what came over me, just... just got really jealous seeing you and Gwil.” You snort and raise your eyebrows a little “Really? Couldn’t tell...” He smacks your ass playfully, causing you to giggle and bury your head further into his neck, your fingers tangling in the sweaty curls at the bale of his neck. The next words out of his mouth are something he never thought he’d say, but... once he’d said them, there was no turning back. “Oh honey, I’m not done with you just yet, I’m gonna let you cum eventually, but I have a few more things planned...” Raising yourself to prop up on your elbow, you shoot him an incredulous look, to which he simply presses a kiss to your lips. “Why don’t we ask Gwilym to join us? See who can make you cum harder, faster... stronger...” Tags: @meddows-taylors @leah-halliwell92 @stormtrprinstilettos @goodoldfashioned-rogerboy @glasgowkisschelseasmile @toomuchlove-willkillyou @blisshemmings @rogertaylors-liploss @unofficialbillnye @bellamy1998 @bowiequeen @oh-my-bri-ig @crazylittlethingcalledobsession @danamaleksworld @doubledeaky @queensilveryrog @psychosupernatural @freddiedearfriend @anotheronebitesthedeaks

(sorry, can’t tag everyone for some reason tumblr is fritzing out on me!!!)

[nonsensicalobsessions]

apogee/perigee

“What do you want, Tom? Before the gods, I just don’t know anymore.”

Tom looked at her eyes and knew he had to choose his words very carefully. Everything was balanced upon them, and he never felt so pressured, so tongue-tied. He’d stood on countless stages, in front of thousands, but never felt the weight of words laying so heavily upon him as they did now.

“I want...I want...”

Her eyes were patient, as they always were. She wouldn’t hurry him, nor would she be scornful. She would wait for his answer, but he also knew that she had reached her limit with his vagaries. Her heart, as giving as it was, could strain no further.

“I want to be loved as a man, and only as a man. Not as how I am packaged, or as I am presented.”

“I am not naive. I know what the gossip sites say, how I am described on fan sites and webpages. Yes, I admit it, I have googled myself, I did get drunk once and went onto Tumblr, and looked up the stories that have been written about me. I suppose I should be flattered, but in truth, they made me horrified...after I read a few, I was so ill, I had an anxiety attack so fierce i could barely move.”

Part of Tish wanted to laugh. the thought of Tom peeking into Tumblr, or the fan fiction writing sites, made her wanted to throw her head back and howl until her sides ached. She could only imagine the expressions that would have crossed his face, oh, to have been a fly on the wall...but the larger part of her, the better part of her nature, was disturbed to think of her friend, her lover, the man who held her heart and soul (sometimes so carelessly, it seemed) having an anxiety attack. 

Against her will, she leaned forward, and took his hand and clasped it in hers. “What upset you so badly? Can you talk about it? Would it help?”

He pulled away from her and the comfort she was trying to provide as he began to pace, pulling at his hair. “Have you ever been to any of those sites? They’ve built me up to be...some sort of a romantic hero, a sexual paragon! They’ve done everything but measure my cock, Tisha, and while I admit some of my wardrobe choices in the past, in combination with some particular photographs have made things...well...” he winced as he rubbed the back of his neck and licked his lips a few times. “Let’s just say they weren’t well thought out.

“But Tish? I cannot live up to those expectations. I do not walk around spouting Shakespeare at any given moment, I cannot have sex for hours upon hours on end, and cannot guarantee anyone... these...women and men...multiple orgasms...in multiple positions, some of which I am convinced would put me in traction...!”

Tish fought very hard to keep a calm, objective, yet sympathetic expression on her face. While the conversation was not going as she expected it to, it was shedding some light on the difficulties they were experiencing in their relationship. 

She still had to work very hard to keep from smirking. Because in many cases, she was convinced Tom knew exactly what he was doing. He knew he was an attractive man, he knew he photographed well, and he did everything the photographers told him to do. If that mean eye-fucking the camera, well then by God he did everything but grab a condom. Because he was good at it, it helped his career, and let’s be honest—he liked it. And if the enormity of his success was a bit frightening, the fervor of his fans a bit shocking? See above. Lather, rinse repeat.

And gods above knew he wasn’t a fame whore. He valued his privacy, and behaved accordingly. But when he was out and about to promote whatever project he was attached to...? As he aged, he wasn’t all about seducing the camera, but now it was worse: it was his raw passion for the project itself that radiated. 

Women around the world were so used to tepid masculinity, she mused. Caught up in their numbers, their business, their bottom lines, their emails and their phones. Then this Adonis comes along and speaks with fire and energy about truth and beauty and honesty in art and literature and relationships...and his audience simply laid down in droves.

And for some reason that defied all logic, all reason, all the fates and karmic justice in the universe, this man, this insanely handsome, gifted, talented actor, this man, found her interesting. Began a friendship, then a relationship with her. 

They became lovers, and although it might not have been everything that he read about online, she certainly wasn’t complaining or left wanting on that score. He was tender and passionate by turns, and certainly very skilled and considerate in the bedroom. Or any room, Tom wasn’t picky.

Tom continued, oblivious to her thoughts. “I want to love as foolishly and recklessly as a schoolboy, without care of how it may be judged and consequences be damned. Which is about as likely as the sun rising in the west. I am not going to howl at the moon, I know what I gave up to have my career...but knowing the price of something doesn't always mean you know what it will cost.”

~

Abruptly, he stopped, and looked at the tiny woman who was curled up in his window seat.

Really looked at her, and her voice echoed in his head:

What do you want, Tom? Before the gods, I just don’t know anymore.

He saw once again her patience, but also saw the sadness that she was wearing like a cloak, stooping her shoulders, diminishing the light he had admired in her eyes.

Like a video on fast forward, images of their relationship flew through his mind—their first meeting, he was preoccupied, and in a hurry, without an entourage, and he burst through a door without pause or thought of who might be on the other side, literally sending the small woman flying as she was juggling her bag, tea, and satchel on the other side while she was trying to open it. The corner of the door struck her cheekbone and brow bone, and she’d struck her head, hard, on the way down. He’d been horrified, insisted on her going to hospital for X-rays. Luke had been apoplectic when he heard how Tom had literally scooped her up, poured her into her car, and broken several very important traffic laws to get the then-nameless woman to the closest A&E, arriving a babbling, panic-stricken mess.

She’d ended up with “only” a black eye. And once she got over the shock of being knocked over, almost knocked out, as well as virtually abducted, she was a great deal more composed than Tom. She refused to allow him to take any responsibility for the event, reminding him “doors open both ways.”

He was the one, though, who ended up falling head over heels, and staying that way.

She was bright, and laughing, and at first, they were two suns, delighting in each other’s warmth.

But Tom’s orbit was wide, and his path swift. He would swing past her in dizzying arcs. She understood it. Accepted it.

What should could not understand, or accept, was being left behind in his thoughts, and his heart. And as night follows day, he saw it happen, in retrospect, over and over again. He went to this Fashion Week in New York, that awards ceremony in Tokyo, and more, and more. He didn’t ask her to accompany him. She had her job, her life. She simply couldn’t drop everything to follow where the cosmic winds would sweep him next. Hell, half the time he didn’t know from month to month until some thing, some opportunity, dropped in his lap, and he would be mad not to follow it with his trademark smile.

And so a visit became a video call, a call became a text. 

And a text...didn’t happen at all. 

He would rationalize it away, “Oh, she’s asleep. I don’t want to disturb her. She works so hard...I know well how hard, she needs her rest.”

What he didn’t know was how lightly she’d be sleeping, if she slept at all, as she kept checking her phone, waiting for it to vibrate in her hand...and then waking to dried tear tracks on her cheeks. Castigating herself for being such a doormat. Wondering when she had allowed herself to become so weak.

After the first such circuit, he returned home, expecting to find a welcoming smile and a warm embrace. He found instead a cautious, wary expression, and an honest, frank discussion. 

No tears. No recriminations, no passive aggressive sighs or comments. Just an open talk on how she felt forgotten, and devalued.

Tom was appalled. He recognized what had happened, how he had behaved abominably, and threw himself at her mercy. Begged her forgiveness. Implored her to understand it was never his intent, he was simply stretched so thinly, there were only so many hours in the day, and he never, ever, thought of any other woman.

Tish saw his contrition and knew it was genuine. She took a deep breath, declared him forgiven, and laughed when he exuberantly picked her up and spun her in a circle, then kissed her breathless. 

“You take away my breath, truly,” he assured her. “Allow me to keep returning the favor?” When she agreed, he bore her straight off to bed, where he kept her for the next three days. Fed her, bedded her, snuggled and cuddled her, beguiled her and spun her head so thoroughly it was a mercy there was a set of holidays she had already taken, for she declared she was completely lost in a universe that had yet to be discovered.

The world at large did not know about her, and she was fine with that. They went places together, but usually arrived and left separately, and Luke was fine with that.

And then, he spun off again, after their wonderfully intense, but rather brief interlude.

And slowly, but surely, the problems began to creep into their orbit once more.

But this time, there were photos...and videos...of him with other women. Other colleagues, other costars, other women who were very quick to make it clear they found him attractive, desirable, and they were very willing to help him in any way he desired.

Tom was always the perfect gentleman, but...he was a man. And she could see when his eyes would light up if something or someone captured his attention...and even if he never acted upon it, she could still see the interest that was there.

While she was here.

There had never been any words spoken about creating a future together. Nothing for her to build a foundation on...and she knew, then, she couldn’t continue. As much as she cared for him, she couldn’t build castles in the clouds, only to see them get blown away any more.

So once again, he returned home, although this time, he too was more tempered in his enthusiasm. He knew better than to expect her to come running to him, and jump into his arms, as much as he wanted to run and throw himself into hers. When he sent her his return flight information, he asked her if she could be there to greet him. She in turn replied if instead, he would come to her flat.

“I’ll have everything waiting for you,” she’d offered.

“Would you come to mine instead?” 

Reluctantly, she agreed.

He knew what that meant.

It meant if he wasn’t very, very careful, what was waiting for him was goodbye.

She arrived with wine. He was met with a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes, but he could tell she was trying. As soon as the door was safely shut behind her, he took the bottle from her as he took her into his arms.

“Hello, Tom,” she sighed. He was known for his hugs, and she was fighting the magnetic pull that was threatening to overwhelm her resolve.

He opened his mouth to speak, but then thought better of it. Instead, he simply kissed her hair. “I missed you so,” he whispered.

When she didn’t reply right away, he pulled away to look searchingly into her face. “What? I did,” his voice both pained and defensive. “Did you not miss me?”

Her hand stroked his cheek gently. “Tom, I missed you every moment, every hour, of every day,” she answered. 

He knew she didn’t lie, and her eyes were sincere. She stood on tiptoe and stretched as far as she could to kiss him. He let her lead the intimacy level, and when she simply brushed her lips against his, his heart sank even further.

He took her hand and led her to the kitchen, where she made the appropriate sounds of pleasure. “Tom, you’ve only been back a short while, you should not have gone through any trouble.”

“I wanted to do something I thought would make you smile, but it looks like I missed the mark,” he replied quietly. 

She squeezed his hand, and looked up into his eyes.

And smiled.

“You succeeded. Let’s eat.”

Because she knew him well, she had him talking easily about his adventures and regaling her with jokes and had her laughing. But after awhile, he noticed how very little she had volunteered about her life while he was away the past weeks, and he kicked himself once more.

“Please, Tish. Talk to me. You’ve barely said two words about yourself since you’d arrived. Have we come to this, then?”

Tish had carried the plates to the sink, over his objections, and they had fallen into their usual, easy pattern of her washing, and his drying, before he had cracked. Her hands went limp in the soapy water, and carefully, he pulled them out.

She faced him, her face as pale as the lacy suds that trimmed her wrists. “I wrote you, Tom, lots of emails...maybe only sent you a fraction of them. I’ve had a difficult time, when you were gone.”

He searched her expression. “It wasn’t the media, certainly? Tish, you know, you know, I’ve told you how it’s all garbage, made-up bullshit...”

She pulled away from him, dried her hands on the tea towel, and nodded. “Yes, you’ve told me, Tom, and I do know.”

“Then what is it...don’t walk away from me, Letitia, please do me the courtesy of not turning your back, at least!”

She turned her head so he could see her in profile. “I am sorry, Tom. My feet and back are killing me, I just want to sit down.”

Helplessly, he watched as she sat in the nearby window seat, where there was no room for him to join her. He sat back at the kitchen table, and rubbed the back of his neck as he asked, “Why are you hurting so much, darling?”

She looked at him and replied, “I told you, in my emails, I’ve been putting in very long hours at work, and I guess it’s catching up with me.”

He rapidly reread her missives in his mind, every line.

Then he read between them.

“No, oh no...” he groaned. “They didn’t...they wouldn’t...”

“They would and they did,” she replied, her smile brittle and for once completely insincere. “They let me go, Tom. To be fair, I was the last of the old regime in place, but I’d hoped, I’d thought if I worked hard enough, they’d see the value in keeping me on...”

“You loved your job,” Tom spoke his dismay aloud, realizing a split second too late he was not helping matters.

Tish bent her head, her long, chestnut hair hiding her from his view. “I did, but it was just a job. Wasn’t a career or anything. There will be others...”

In a flash, Tom was kneeling at her feet. “Stop that. You were damned good at what you did, and you were making a difference. An important difference...”

“Tom, stop it! I worked as a nurse associate...”

“...in an incredibly stressful, demanding children’s hospital unit. You loved those children, Tish. They felt safe with you. Parents felt safe knowing their children were in your care when they were at work. And even though I never got the opportunity to see for myself...Tish? Tish, please look at me...I know those children loved you, too.”

“And how would you know this, Tom,” she softly huffed, trying to hide her tears.

“Because you are you. How could they not?” He wiped the ones that escaped with the pads of his thumbs.

“Because I know I do. Love you, that is.”

And so, Tish looked into Tom’s eyes, and asked him:

“What do you want, Tom? Before the gods, I just don’t know anymore.”

~

And it struck him, as he’d been talking in circles, he was speaking to her but getting no closer to getting to the center of what she asked him...

“Tom, I believe you can have all of those things...but I don’t think you can have them with me.”

He felt the tectonic plates in his heart crack and the beginning of a cataclysmic pole shift as his world teetered on its axis.

“Why not, Tish? Why not?”

She leaned forward and gently butted her head against his. “Because the world wants to belong to you, Tom. You have a gravitational pull all your very own. People talk of you being a star, but I see you as the sun, with so much warmth to give, radiating joy and happiness...You have success, you have a career, you have staff, for gods’ sake, and you have an amazing heart to go with it all. Everything and everyone revolves around you.

“I have spent nights waiting for your calls. Your texts. And when they didn’t come, I realized I had a choice to make. I could be one of the many spinning in orbit around you...or I could blow you a kiss for luck, and break free, in the hopes of finding someone that maybe, just maybe, wanted to belong to me, and we could revolve around each other. Create our own family, in time, and we could expand our own universe...”

As she spoke, her fingers absently played in his hair, catching and smoothing his curls by turn, caressing him. Her hands were very good at speaking for her, with her.

Tish scarcely noticed when he drew his head into her waist, and buried his face there. If it wasn’t for the slight tremor in his broad shoulders, she might not have noticed it when she did, and the faint dampness that was seeping through her blouse to touch her skin.

“Tom?”

Stricken, she tried to pull back, but he would not allow it, and kept his arms firmly wrapped around her.

“Please.” His voice was muffled and shaky. “Please, give me one more chance. The world can do as it damn well wishes...but I...I want to be that one...I want to belong to you...”

“Tom, you’re tired, and you’re upset. I’m upset as well, I do care for you. I love you, but you can’t...”

He reared back, his eyes red and watery. “No, Tish. You don’t get to tell me how I feel. You say I am the sun, but...I say you are the moon.”

“A cold, dead, barren, hunk of rock only ever seen through a reflection of your light but otherwise invisible to all?” She lifted an eyebrow and pulled a lock of hair.

He reached up and pulled a strand in return, unable to repress a chuckle. “No, smart-ass. A heavenly body that has its own real gravitational pull, and lets me know when I’ve gone too far from shore, and also lets me know when it is time to rest. I am no star, but just a man, residing on this planet, remember?”

“You said you don’t go off spouting Shakespeare.”

“That wasn’t.”

They looked at each other in silence.

“Tom, you are tired.”

“I am. You said that you love me.”

“And I do. I have for some time.” Her hand kept stroking his scalp. “You should get some rest.”

“I...that is, would you...”

Tish smiled, a real one, reaching her eyes and her lips as she waited. She never rushed him.

“Would you stay with me tonight?”

She nodded, a little nervously. “I didn’t bring anything with me, I didn’t think—”

Tom interrupted her, “If it’s all the same, I’d rather not know what your thoughts were for tonight.” He was grimly validated by the flush he saw build from her neckline. 

“No matter.” He pulled himself up, then extended a hand to her. “I am looking forward to sleeping in your arms tonight, sweetheart.”

As they ascended the stairs, fingers entwined, Tish asked, “Come to think of it, doesn’t Shakespeare have some pretty unkind things to say about the moon..? Don’t most poets, do in fact, find it a symbol of inconstancy?”

“Not always, my darling. And you have been ever constant. You’re thinking too hard, just as you’ve been working too hard. Let your mind rest. I promise you, you don’t have to be anxious now.”

“But...”

“You don’t.”

“I...”

“Letitia.” He led her into the bedroom. “Let it go. I am here, and you are here.”

As they curled themselves around the other, each exhausted physically and emotionally, Tom murmured, “You are the star to my wandering bark.”

“...now that was Shakespeare.”

“Goodnight, Tish. I promise to see about those multiple orgasms tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Tom. No traction, please. You are more than enough man for me as you are.”

Tom fell asleep with those words in his ears, and in his heart, where they remained safely locked away for the rest of his days.

Tish awoke the next morning to his arms still around her, never again to wonder if she was to be the center of someone else’s orbit.

Apogee: the point of the orbit of the moon or satellite when it is furthest from the earth, also, the climax/culmination

Perigee: the point of the orbit of the moon or satellite when it is closest to the earth

My Constellations: @hopelessromanticspoonie @just-the-hiddles @yespolkadotkitty @vodka-and-some-sass @winterisakiller @fruitfly123  

[cherry3point14]

Thunder Thighs

Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: Kinda cracky. You’re a bit of a perv. Stitching up an injury. Word Count: 3000ish. Summary/Prompt: You’re visiting your friend Jody when two flannel-clad brutes come storming in the door, both bleeding and needing help. You help the shorter one with stitches to his thigh. When Jody and Sam walk in to check on you guys, they were not expecting to find you like that! A/N: Guess who’s back, back again. By that I mean guess who’s back with a prompt by my girl @divadinag? That’s right, me! Basically, this is a trash fic with no discernable plot beyond holy shit DEAN HOT.

Ao3 if you prefer

As much as you hate doing the dishes, and that’s why you own a dishwasher, you’re still doing them. Jody cooked for you, saving you from the pseudo-food in your freezer. Plus your mom taught you that manners matter, especially if you’re the guest. It doesn’t help that Jody excused herself to the living room to take a call from the station.

Honestly, it’s her fault. She straight up left you alone with the dishes.

It’s not that bad anyway. Considering you never do your own it’s almost a novelty. The soap Jody has smells like a poor imitation of roses. It’s pink anyway. And the whole thing is keeping you entertained while she's busy. Idle hands are the devils' playthings and all that.

You’re humming to yourself since there’s no music. You’re offended by the lack of a radio or anything but Jody probably didn’t count on being gone this long. Or the fact that you’d start doing chores in her absence. She’s going to smack you upside the head when she gets back but the dishes will be done so you know she’ll be grateful too.

It’s a particularly stirring moment of the tuneless song you’re humming when the back door slams open, “Jody! Little help here!” Two hulking masses of flannel amble in with no consideration for the fact that they are total stranger dangers.

Obviously, you scream.

The noise begins shrill and high pitched. Like how you imagine Macaulay Culkin screams now that he’s come of age. Then it morphs into a roar of attack all without taking a breath.

Of the two men who have burst in unannounced and covered in blood, the taller one scrunches up his entire face. Dramatics aside you’d think the noise is causing more pain than whatever injury he has. The shorter one leans his friend against the wall and then raises his hands in a calming, defensive position, “sweetheart…”

You finally take in some air, by which time Jody has come running in guns blazing. But you’re not some defensive, wilting wallflower. You can look after yourself. You dip your hands into sink again hoping to find a knife or other sharp kitchen implement. What you yank out, dragging a trail of dirty, soapy water with it, is a metal potato masher. Determined to not die like this you do the only that seems reasonable since Jody hasn’t fired a shot yet.

You throw the damn thing.

It spins as it cuts through the air and hits the shorter man square in the face. Success. You’ve fended off your attacker, or at the very least softened him up. Now all you need is some butter and you’re in business.

“Shit!” He growls as he rubs the wet spot on his face while your weapon clatters to the floor.

“Y/N! Y/N! It’s fine.” Jody’s tucking her gun away and stepping between you and the potential murderers, before you attack again. “I know these dummies.”

She throws a pointed look in their direction as you finally feel your heartbeat calm enough to think rationally. “They didn’t knock.” It’s the most important thing your coherent mind wants to say. You’re not crazy, because it’s them who are uncivilized.

She smiles at you like you’re a child but her tone is clearly meant to chastise the lumberjacks behind her. “That’s right they didn’t knock because they were born in a frickin’ barn. Y/N, this is Sam and Dean.”

They’re both introduced together so there’s a solid minute where you’re still not sure which one is which. You only know that collectively they form a duo known as ‘Sam and Dean’. The taller one, all hair in his face, whichever one he is, seems to be struggling to stand straight. Although, considering his height the air might be that much thinner up there.

“Listen, Jody, we’re real sorry to barge in like this but Sam he’s-” it’s the shorter one talking, at least now you know which is which.

Jody takes one look at Sam and her friendly annoyance becomes motherly concern real quick.

“What the hell happened to you guys?” You watch your friend go across the room and eyeball Sam's blood-soaked undershirt. Dean, still watching you with annoyed suspicion in case of more flying utensils, pulls her in to whisper in hushed tones. She pushes him back with an elbow to the ribs, “what am I going to do with you two? Help me get him upstairs.”

“Jody what’s…” you start.

“Y/N I’m sorry maybe it’s best if you went on home?” She doesn’t outrightly say she’s throwing you out but it sure as hell sounds like she’s throwing you out.

Dean chooses then to grit his teeth at Sam’s weight back on his shoulders. You scan his body for the source of the pain and see a sizeable cut in his now red stained jeans.

“At least let me help him with that while you help… um, Sam.”

Dean looks about ready to argue but Jody catches your meaning and rolls her eyes. “So, you’re both hurt?” She sighs like they're both so exhausting although you can read the worry behind it.

“It’s fine, I’m fine. Can you just patch up him please?”

“Sure, I’ll patch him up. While my nice doctor friend takes a look at you.”

Dean doesn’t argue but then Jody has that power over the majority of people she meets. Sheriff or not, she gets her way most of the time.

You follow behind them as Jody carries most of the weight but somehow they manage to get Sam moving. Between the three of them, it’s all limbs and sideways shuffles but they move him upstairs and out of sight.

Everything happened so quickly that the sudden silence of the room now that it’s empty is deafening. There’s scraping furniture and muffled yelling from above while you’re left there staring at your nails.

A minute later and Dean starts hobbling back down the stairs. Apparently, he’s forgotten you’re there because he’s grimacing with every step now that Jody and Sam are gone. It’s only halfway down that he notices you still standing in the middle of the living room and straightens his jaw. “I’m fine by the way."

“You sure look fine,” your arm stiffly points at the dining table. “Sit.”

He grumbles under his breath but still slumps into the chair, Jody and her superpower must be rubbing off on you.

You lean over and use careful, measured touches to peel the frayed denim away from the cut. You don’t normally deal with patients so you’re paying extra attention to the pressure of your fingers. Shooting for gentle. It still has to hurt though. The cut is deeper than it looks. “Dean right?”

“Yeah.” He grinds through clenched teeth.

You stand up swiftly. Quickly enough to give yourself headrush if you weren’t so focused on the task at hand. “The jeans, lose ‘em”.

You don’t hang around to see his mouth twist in confusion. There’s a first aid kit under the sink, god knows what Jody is using upstairs. You know where it is because you’d been here a few months back when Claire cut her hand on something or other. Of course, she’d only needed a bandage at the time but you know it will have the tools you need now. In the past, you’ve never questioned why your friend has such a large at home medical kit. Now you’re guessing evenings like this are why.

When you wander back into the living room with the hefty plastic box in your arms you’re instantly irritated at the sight of Dean still clothed. “Do you need help taking those off?”

There’s a reason you don’t work in clinical or surgery, you have a shitty bedside manner. Though Dean, to his merit, seems to be riling you up extra fast.

“I don’t need to take these off.” For someone who looks like a male stripper he sure is being a brat about taking off his pants.

“That cut needs stitches and I need to see what I’m doing if I’m going to sew you up all pretty. Normally I’d cut them off but I’m guessing you want to be a big boy about this?”

He frowns petulantly, then sighs and finally starts working on his belt and fly. “Don’t get excited or anything sweetheart. This is strictly professional.” He’s trying to claw back some of whatever macho bravado he thinks he has.

“Don’t fall in love. Got it.” You quip back at him complete with a finger gun. It’s all fun and games anyway. That is until his pants drop.

The guy is handsome. That’s not a question. He’s an Adonis. You don’t need to dwell on the sharpness of his jaw, the emerald hue of his eyes or his lips that are the perfect mathematical curve for kissing the fuck out of.

But the guy almost murdered you tonight, in your mind at least. So, you’d made an effort to not let yourself be distracted by his face. You’d been doing well so far. You hadn’t looked at him much at all, even if you’d thought about it.

At least you hadn't looked until those pants dropped.

It’s hard to pinpoint what makes your throat tighten. Is it his black boxer briefs that leave nothing to the imagination? Probably. The guys got a third arm for crying out loud. And it’s so inappropriate that you’re even noticing but damn, those thighs. He's got those bowed legs, which are hot on a regular day, except Dean also has these thighs that are pure sin. Toned, muscled tree trunks that look like they could slam into you with all the force off…

He whistles, waves a hand to his face and lets a self-satisfied smirk settle on his lips. “I’m up here sweetheart.”

Oh god, you’d been staring. It wasn’t professional but then again your patients are usually a lot less chatty and a hell of a lot less handsome. No one is handsome when they’re dead. It’s not your fault. You’re at Jody’s. You hadn’t been prepared for this.

Somehow you have the gall to act affronted by his accusation, “and your gaping wound is down there genius. I’m a doctor for crying out loud.”

Good. He looks confused like he can’t decide if you’re a pervert or medical professional. The truth is a little of both. It’s hardly your fault that his cut goes all the way up his thigh to the edge of his underwear. Wait, what if it goes further? No. No, it can’t.

Once you open the first aid kit everything flows on autopilot and his dumb half-naked body fades into the background. You know this, it’s as easy as blinking. You sterilize the needle and lay everything out like you're at work. A latex glove gets pulled over each hand and you remind yourself to be careful since he’s still breathing.

"This is going to hurt," you warn him with alcohol in your hand.

“I’ll be fi- shit!” He’s so busy trying to be brave that he doesn’t brace himself for the sting as you clean the cut and blood drying on his skin. His fists clench at his sides but other than that he stays deadly still while you finish.

Then when you're ready to put Humpty Dumpty back together again you find yourself pausing to look down at his leg. You’re too high off the ground to do this without killing your back. You already know that there’s only one solution and as much as you don’t want to you slide to the floor. Resting your knees between his thigh gap, all the better to stitch him up.

Whatever he wants to say he holds in. Thankfully. If you’ve got to ignore being this close to his dick then the least he can do is keep his perfect mouth shut.

It’s a grueling silence at first. You’re not talking because you’re concentrating on how many stitches you want to make. He’s not talking, you imagine because it hurts. It's only after the first few stitches are tied that he’s used to the jab of the needle enough to speak.

“So, you’re a doctor huh? That how you met Jody?”

You’d shrug or laugh if your hands weren’t busy, “I mean, I’m a doctor but not a doctor doctor. We actually met over a dead body.”

He stiffens under your touch and you don’t think it’s because you hit a nerve. Unfortunately, it’s not an unusual reaction when you tell people about your line of work.

“I’m a pathologist. So, I deal exclusively in bodily fluids, specimens, and autopsies. I mean, I’m great at stitching things but my patients are normally pretty stiff.”

He laughs at you and the sound is refreshing. There are no questions about why you’d want to cut open a dead body or how you can stand to do it. “That why you don’t have the whole soothing doctor thing going on?”

“Exactly. I never was a soft touch and cadavers don’t talk back.”

You’re going faster now. He isn’t so tense under your fingers and you’re finding a rhythm.

“I can’t believe I’m nearly finished and you still haven't told me how you got this.”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you darlin’”

God knows what it is about the way he says darling but it stops you from sinking the needle into him again, at least for a second. From your kneeling position between his legs, you can’t help but look up at him through your lashes. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you wonder if you're the only one who can taste your heartbeat.

“Try me.” You don’t even know what you mean when you say it. You don’t even know what you're offering.

Jody does.

“Y/N! Dean! What the hell?”

Jody is standing at the bottom of the stairs with a freshly sewn together Sam, who is better able to support himself on the banister. And they’re both wearing equally shocked looks. All raised eyebrows and open mouths. It’s only when you look up at Dean again and how the green of his eyes has all but disappeared that you understand.

No less than an hour ago Dean burst in as a stranger. Now you're on your knees in front of him while his jeans and belt sit around his ankles. And when you paused to stare into his eyes like a lovesick puppy you rested your hand on his uninjured thigh. Something you’re only noticing as the heat of him seeps into your fingers.

Yeah, you can understand what Jody thinks she's walked in on. You get what this looks like.

“It’s not what it… I just have one more stitch and then he’s free to go.”

Well, now it sounds like you’re the one who orchestrated all this. Like you’re keeping Dean here against his will. He doesn't seem to notice their entrance. Or care. He hasn’t stopped looking at you with this curl to his lips like he thinks the whole thing is so damn funny. He might be right. You’d see the funny side if it wasn’t you on your knees.

You tie and cut the last stitch with Sam and Jody whispering as your soundtrack. As soon as you’re done you jump up and pretend that you don't need to get away from the heat between his thighs. 

“I… erm. I need should wrap that up and you need to keep it dry for a few days.”

“Whatever you say doc.”

It’s not fair that he’s so comfortable now. You almost regret stitching him up. Now that Dean isn't in pain he's far more dangerous than when he was busting in the kitchen to kill you.

Jody’s helping Sam to the sofa even though he insists he’s fine and they’re both so there. But Dean's still looking at you like they don't exist.

You pick up the gauze intending to wrap his thigh and realize with him sitting this might be harder than it looks. “Um, can you…?” You point upwards to motion standing without thinking of the consequences.

You bend down again to wrap his thigh only realizing halfway through that because he’s standing you’re now eye level with his dick.

His barely concealed by his underwear dick.

You cut the gauze probably before you should and secure it so you can jump back again. The smile on Jody’s face definitely isn’t making you want to blush. It’s just a dick. Every second person has them. Or at least, that’s what you’re telling yourself.

“Ok, you’re good to go.” You say loudly enough for the room while packing up the first aid kit.

He pulls up his still bloodstained, ripped jeans chuckling to himself, “thanks, doll. Hope I was a better patient than a dead body.”

“Debatable,” you glance at him out the corner of your eye.

He holds a hand to his chest dramatically, still staring at you, as Sam hauls himself up again. “Come on dude, we’ve still got to clean up that thing.”

Dean all but ignores Sam, once again focussing on you. “Right right. I should swing by and see you though? Get these stitches removed by a professional?”

Jody starts pushing Dean out the door, finally sick of them both, “if you wouldn’t mind not accosting my friends. Any more than you already have.”

“I’ll see you in a week! Doctors orders!” you call out from behind Jody. She closes the door giving you a look that’s half warning and half judgment.

You 100% don’t care.

5eva tags: @divadinag @darthdeziewok @fluentinfiction @witch-of-letters @supernatural-teamfreewillpage Dean babes: @thewinchesterchronicles @akshi8278 @bloodydaydreamer

[bthump]

Thx 4 your compelling answer! You made me curious about what do you think Guts and Griffith would be like as a couple, how do you imagine their dynamic would develop and grow. Not super chill I agree lmao but it's very interesting given their respective baggages. And kind of unrelated but I was soo mad that Casca insisted Guts to leave the 2nd time even when Guts was like: HEY I WANNA STAY FOR REAL. But Griffith never knew that. Hurts but that's the kind of element that makes for a great tragedy

ikr! Man that scene where Griffith overhears them is so painful. Like it makes sense that Casca would tell Guts to leave imo for a few reasons (mainly because Guts successfully convinced her after they had sex that it was what he ~really truly wanted~ lol, and also I think there’s some interesting selfishness on her part there too) but man, it’s tragic.

Anyway back at you, thanks for the interesting questions. lol idk where to start with this one really because like, there’s so much to potentially say, and so many potential ways for their relationship to go, like I don’t really have One True Concept of their relationship, there are so many possibilities and options.

Holy shit this got ridiculously long lol, sorry. I just used the opportunity to throw out like as many of my griffguts opinions as I could reasonably fit lmao.

I guess there are a few things that I tend to stick to when I’m imagining them together in like a Golden Age AU where everything worked out, tho ofc none of this is set in stone.

Like, if this is an AU without the whole overheard Promrose Hall speech that changes everything, I tend to think Guts is more likely to make the first move. Like say Guts didn’t hear the speech but still fell off the cliff with Casca and got her monologue, and without his feelings of inadequacy clouding his understanding he actually starts to get it, like, I pretty much think Guts would’ve kissed him during Tombstone of Flame 2. Griffith being openly afraid of Guts’ judgement -> Guts impulsively demonstrating exactly how he really feels about him.

But also just in general I think Guts is more likely to act on his feelings without thinking about potential consequences or how it could’ve gone wrong until afterwards, so I can imagine a lot of scenarios where he’d make the first move. Whereas even if Griffith did figure out how he feels and what he wants, it’s harder for me to see him going for it. On the one hand yeah he does have that “I must obtain what I desire” attitude, on the other hand what he wants is for Guts to love and want him, and he’d know that, and he’d know that kissing Guts is not necessarily going to get him that, and might end up ruining everything he does have.

Like, dude has a major fear of rejection.

But I guess I could see him also impulsively going for it in a more extreme moment - like the way his mind shuts off and he runs to save Guts from Zodd, I could imagine a thank god you’re alive type kiss, eg. But imo he’d need more of a push than Guts would.

And yeah I think both of their respective traumas would affect things, but I’d prefer to delay that a bit? I want them to have a good positive sexual encounter before they start sorting through all their issues together, basically so they have proof that it’s worth persisting lol, and I think that’s pretty easy to manage. Like, they start making out and end up jerking each other off and no one has any flashbacks, easy peasy.

I could see them getting past a bad first time, but it wouldn’t be easy lol. Like first off they’re both overly likely to take it as a personal condemnation, even if logically that’s not how trauma works, because they both hate themselves, and they both canonically have a fear of being monstrous/predatory. Griffith asking if Guts thinks he’s cruel and tbqh most of his speech to the King in the dungeon is indicative of this imo, and Guts seeing himself as a monster after killing Adonis and also in canon flashbacking from his rapist’s perspective.

And yk, if they do start having sex without immediate issues, I imagine the first problem that would come up sooner rather than later would be Guts flashbacking. I tend to assume he would be upfront about not wanting to get fucked without saying why, and Griffith would be fine with that, and then Guts would still eventually have a flashback while topping and it would take him by surprise like in canon. I could see Guts reacting basically the exact same way he did with Casca, rambly confessional and all, and I think Griffith would be supportive and comforting and understanding in the immediate aftermath. Hopefully Guts would make it very clear that it had nothing to do with anything Griffith did or anything about him and he still wants to get laid on the regular, because otherwise I could see something stupid happening afterwards like Griffith withdrawing out of fear of his potential to Guts and Guts blaming himself for making things weird and neither of them talking about it until something gives.

Anyway if they do successfully navigate that, the next problem would be more insidious, and it would be Griffith, and the way he views sex as transactional. Like when I say Griffith would be fine with never topping, I think that holds true entirely regardless of what Griffith might actually want personally from a sexual encounter. He’d let Guts fuck him even if he hated it, because what he wants is the emotional closeness and Guts needing him and wanting him. I think he actually would want sex with Guts for its own sake and enjoy it, like he’s attracted to Guts and he wants him and I def don’t think he would hate it in any way. Buuut I see him as very detached from his own physical desires, yk? Dude has never had sex because he wanted to have sex, even the evil personification of his inner darkness didn’t lol.

And along with that you could have the additional problem of enjoying sex with a man being another potential source of self-loathing for him. I’m thinking because of ‘am I dirty?” in the river, and again the scene in the dungeon w/ the King lends itself to this really well too. Like it’s so easy to read internalized homophobia into his narrative imo, even the entire structure of it, with Charlotte and the dream on one side and Guts on the other.

And basically I think those issues would combine to make him see sex as something he gives in return for Guts’ love/loyalty/presence, and avoid seeing it as something he personally wants. So like basically I think in a way he’d use that transactional framework as a justification for doing something he really really wants to do (sex with Guts) but that he doesn’t want to acknowledge he wants because it makes him hate himself because a) internalized homophobia and also b) deep down he knows he wants Guts more than the dream which also makes him feel guilty.

Also like, when it comes to Griffith and his issues I don’t think any of this is required, like canonically we know Guts’ csa trauma affects him but we don’t really know how Griffith’s csa trauma affects him. I wouldn’t see it as out of character if he was ultimately fine with his desire for Guts and doesn’t contribute any issues to the griffguts sex life. But it’s really really easy to see how he could have a metric ton of issues with sex to work through, and I think those would be really interesting to explore, basically.

Plus I don’t necessarily think this would actually… matter? Like I could easily see Griffith never giving Guts any cause for concern, they never talk about this, Griffith himself barely notices that he’s got a messed up attitude towards sex, and eventually he just internally works through it himself as his relationship with Guts progresses and he gets more comfortable with wanting Guts and wanting sex for its own sake and he achieves his dream regardless of his emotional priorities, etc. Like this could all easily work itself out in Griffith’s subconscious without any external drama lol. (Tho if Guts ever picked up on this it would def fuck him up and the fallout would be big.)

ANYWAY so that’s all the trauma stuff I could see influencing their relationship.

Overall I think there’d be way more good than bad. They’re perfect for each other. Griffith wants Guts to know him and see all the stuff he hates about himself and want him anyway, and Guts would absolutely do that, and demonstrate it thoroughly, and it would do wonders for Griffith’s self-acceptance. Guts wants Griffith to pay attention to him, to love him and respect him and look at him, and being in a relationship with him would give him everything he wants. The way Griffith looks at him after they kiss or while they’re fucking or whatever, like he’s the only thing in the world, would be the highlight of Guts’ life. Guts fucking Griffith like he needs him, or making love to him with reverence, or demonstrating casual closeness and affection, would be the highlight of Griffith’s.

I think Charlotte and the dream would be a bit of an issue for Guts, like I could see him being jealous, but I could also see him being totally able to see Charlotte as business and himself as the person Griffith wants. The fact that they’re fucking behind Charlotte’s back would itself be probably enough proof of how much Griffith wants him and is willing to risk for him to make Guts feel secure. Like basically I could see jealous insecure Guts telling Griffith they should break it off because the risk to his dream is too much and Griffith refusing out of hand, and that being a big moment for Guts and his feelings of security in their relationship.

Eventually I think the most satisfying direction their relationship could go would be Griffith decisively choosing Guts over the dream and having grown enough in their years together that he’s able to live with that choice and be happy with Guts instead of a big exaggerated dream lol. As far as I’m concerned that’s the secret Berserk happy ending that they never got a chance to get to, but is wholly telegraphed by the story as something that could’ve happened if everything hadn’t gone wrong.

Hmm what else. Random details I guess: I think they’d start out with Guts exclusively topping when they have penetrative sex but Guts would absolutely eventually want Griffith to fuck him imo, and their first time switching it up would be pretty emotionally intense but extremely good and positive. They’d be really close and trusting and more effectively communicative by then, and it would work great and Guts would bask in the attention as Griffith v thoroughly makes love to him.

Also when Griffith achieves his dream and runs Midland they would both be extremely into Guts getting a little possessive and staking his claim on him, like by fucking him hard enough that he can feel it throughout the next day, or scratches/bruises under clothes, etc. Nothing super kinky, I think they’re both pretty vanilla lol, but Guts would love knowing Griffith is being constantly reminded of him while he’s at meetings with nobles or w/e and Griffith would love that lingering reminder.

I think at some point early on they’d have to have a talk in which Guts asserts that he wants to stay with Griffith and the Hawks and doesn’t feel obligated because he lost a fight when they were 15. I could see that thought eating away at Griffith for a while if they don’t. Also because the question of whether they’re equals or not is kind of hammered in in canon I think they’d have to navigate around Griffith technically being Guts’ commander. I don’t think Guts would think twice about it (again assuming he hasn’t heard the Promrose Hall speech) but Griffith would worry, especially given exchanges like “that’s why I’m asking you to do this” “just order me to do it” lol. So they’d have to at least talk about that.

Or conversely they could not talk about Guts potentially feeling obligated and it could blow up in their faces and lead to miscommunication drama. I mean there are so many potential ways they could fuck things up by not talking and assuming the worst at the first sign of an issue lmao, it’s like, you want relationship drama just take your pick.

Also relatedly, I think this is a little bit of an unpopular opinion, at least judging by most of the griffguts fic I’ve read lol, but I really don’t see Griffith as likely to behave possessively at all, unless he thinks Guts is about to leave him and is like next to having a breakdown about it, and even then… idk. I think the second duel was extremely atypical - Griffith defaulted to trying to fight Guts for his loyalty because that’s how he won his loyalty the first time and it was the only way Griffith saw to keep his loyalty, he was extremely out of his depth emotionally lol, and I think there’s some big indications that he hated himself for it afterwards.

He wants Guts to want him, to choose to be with him of his own desire, he wants Guts to love him. I think he would abhor the thought that Guts was obligated to stay with him in any way, and any indications of that would freak him out and add to his self loathing. So he wouldn’t tell Guts “you’re mine” as part of sexy foreplay or whatever, and he wouldn’t order him to do shit lol (along with this like I don’t think Griff is dominant at all, and trying to be with someone he loves would fuck him up).

I think the biggest problem for both of them would be a tendency to assume the worst and just blame themselves for whatever instead of talking. But I also think the longer they’re in a relationship the better they’ll get at not doing that and at constructive positive communication lol.

Like at the end of the day again I think there’d be way more positives than negatives. We’re shown how perfectly they fulfill each others’ needs. Guts wants attention, Griffith wants acceptance, they both want to be loved, and before the misunderstandings get in the way and fuck it all up their relationship benefits both and starts helping both heal emotionally. If they stayed together and added romance and sex to the mix I think overall they’d be pretty ideal partners.

Ooookay I think I’ve talked more than enough about this lmao. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to just ramble for ages about a bunch of griffguts stuff. Honestly if anyone reads through this to the end I’ll be slightly surprised lol.

[xking-of-the-cloudsx]

Meet the Muse | Adonis Gerasimos

Name: Adonis Gerasimos

Age: Unknown

(Updated)Height: 6'0

Birthplace: Crete, Greece///Above in the clouds

Birthday: October 23rd

Zodiac: Scorpio

Sexuality: Open to whoever

Top/bottom/switch: General switch with anyone-sub leaning w/ men(or masculine muses), dom leaning w/ women(or feminine muses)

FC: Jaimie Wilson

Likes/Interests/Hobbies: Renaissance era, art, the night time, looking up at the stars, other angels, his alcohol...in depth conversations, when people touch his wings(consensually of course), talking to people, people he can fuck around with

Dislikes: rudeness, uncleanliness, narcissism, messes, waking up early, strong smells, his headaches, people underestimating him, people talking down to him, too much small talk, close minded people

Family history:  Adonis was birthed from the feather of a sacred bird, foreshadowing his future of becoming an angel. He was already made a God, though that would change as he got a bit older. When he was born, his  father doubted the purpose of his new son, though it was his idea in the first place. He wasn’t sure what the resentment was, but he was always there to make sure Adonis was always doing the right thing. Growing up, Zeus always put pressure on Adonis, telling him that he needs to be a better leader and protector. Any small fault Adonis would make, he’d be hearing about it for hours. At times it’s gotten more aggressive, though never physical. Hera on the other hand, always nurtured him and gave him what Zeus refused to do. Throughout his life, Hera and him became very close. She was always fighting with Zeus; telling him that he needed to be more respectful towards Adonis and that he’s only a child. His many siblings would pick on him too, as siblings do. However, he was always compared to them by Zeus, and he wasn't usually picked as a favorite. Let alone picked for much in general. This took a toll on Adonis, and (though plot dependent) he doesn’t visit Olympus as much as he used to. Now that he’s an adult, the times he goes into the clouds gets more rare. Though he does visit Hera the most when he does. When Jaysen was born, Adonis wanted a relationship with him almost immediately. He knew there was something about his new brother that would need protection or guidance, even if he didn't know why yet. But as Jaysen grew older, Adonis thought their relationship would be impossible. He felt bad that their mother gave him so much distress, unsure of what to do at the time. He fought with Hera, always asking why she loved him and not Jaysen. For a little while, she tried convincing him to hate his brother. Which he was never able to do. He hurt for Jaysen and Hera, seeing both sides of the story growing up. The day Jaysen broke his hand as a kid, he knew that was the time to start building a relationship with him. He wanted his brother to understand that he got it, that a small part of him felt the same way with him and Zeus. It took Jaysen a while to open up and be raw with his older brother. They spent long nights in each others arms, simply crying about their years and years of hurt and why one parent would love one of them but not the other. Throughout the years, the two of them grew very very close. Adonis helped Jaysen through the rough patches with their mother and was always there to support him while Jaysen did the same

Description: As stated before, Zeus didn't have much faith in Adonis, until one day, his father promised to grant him wings-thinking it would "make him useful." He eventually earned them by proving his worth; sword fighting with his siblings, taking down numerous monsters and creatures, being responsible, etc. But when Zeus still wasn't pleased, he told Adonis that if he could make something of himself down on Earth-which was a place he didn't know existed-he would have the chance to rule the clouds with his father. Which is when he became a bartender. His first time on Earth was a rough one. His anxiety was almost unbearable, and because he was only ever exposed to Gods and Goddesses his whole life, he always questioned how he should act. He got used to it eventually, and his anxiety about it all seemed to get a lot better. He landed a job as a bartender since his father owns Casinos, which is something Adonis didn’t want to do. So working, or now owning, a bar was the next best thing. He got the job on the first day because of Zeus, since he’s well known almost everywhere. Not many people know of the Gods/Goddesses running over Earth, so for a while Adonis felt very fearful of showing that publicly. When it came to Zeus, he’s able to control people’s minds. So it didn’t exactly bother him all that much. Now Adonis doesn’t feel awkward or fearful of it, and actually finds it as a way to embrace himself. However, with Zeus, there was still something that bothered him. Still unsatisfied, Adonis did everything in his power to earn his fathers respect and be noticed as a liable person, but Zeus was only convinced after many arguments with Hera. He was then granted a position to rule the clouds alongside his father. Sticking to Zeus' claim about making Adonis "useful," he turned him into an angel as well. Hermes taught him how to fly, while Zeus focused on his other powers. Even though Adonis was born with them, he didn’t know how to use them to their full potential until later on in his life. He found his passion as an artist when he visited Earth. To him, it was almost magical seeing things he's never seen before. It inspired him go learn more and discover his hidden/born talent. When he's not at his home in the clouds or at the bar, he's painting, print making, or sculpting. He usually has it hidden away in a separate room, afraid to tell his parents or anyone else because he's worried it will disappoint them. Zeus being the main concern of his. Throughout his life, he’s expanded his work in art and spends more time doing that than nothing. He’s branched out into other art mediums such as ink and charcoal, though painting seems to be his favorite. He still feels shy and awkward about telling people about that side of him, and will usually keep it secret. However, it wasn’t always so peaceful for Adonis on Earth. He faced a great amount of pain from his father and siblings from the beginning, but it only got worse over time. He met only a small handful of lovers in his life, and each of them made his confidence crumble further. He dealt with a lot of self inflicted anger and anger towards his partners, he’s been made to feel like a fool for being an angel, he’s been cheated on almost every time, and was faced with a lot of emotional, mental, and sometimes physical abuse by his past partners. For a long time, he stayed up in Olympus. He didn’t want to go back to Earth, and told his boss (at the time) that he would be gone for a while. It took him several months to come back and recover emotionally and physically, though he still carries that pain with him everyday. Jaysen was always there to protect him however, he helped Adonis through each relationship and took care of him for that period of time he stayed on Olympus. Even though Jaysen didn't want to be there because of their mother, he cared more for his brother and making sure he was roughly okay than he did about the constant bickering

(Updated/new)Abilities:

Healer

Great strength

Speed

Durability

Stamina

Weather control

Invisibility

Dream walking(able to visit people in their dreams)

Energy manipulation

Protective charm (protecting another person from harm)

Smiting(kill someone by touch)

Telekinesis

Teleportation

 Resurrection

 Biokinesis(change someones biological makeup)

Holy white light (blasts of energy from his palms)

Memory manipulation

Pyrokinesis (manipulate/create fire)

Electrokinesis(create electricity)

Power granting

Empathy(make others feel his emotions or the other way around)

Conjuration(make things or remove them from nothing)

Vessel locking(trapping someone through smoke/light)

Personality traits:

He's loving and caring, though he can be sarcastic and cocky at times

He cares for people very quickly and is often very gentle with them

He's very affectionate and tries to be as romantic as possible

He's very friendly and likes to socialize/meet new people

He can be shy, but he's mostly outgoing and an extrovert

He has a great sense of humor and likes to goof around

He's protective and sometimes territorial of what's his/what he cares about

He has his down days just like everyone, and he usually tries to keep it to himself

He has no problem in telling people how it is, and he can be brutally honest

If he has a problem with something, he's not afraid to be up front

With that said, he knows boundaries and will try to be gentle about it-most of the time

Sometimes he can be a show off, or be a little more confident than usual. But being narcissistic or overly confident isn't his thing

He is confident, but that stems from years of being put down so much

He has good mannerisms and tries to be as polite as he can-no matter where he is or how frustrated he may be

He can get insecure, usually when he talks about his art or his past

He'd rather get to know someone before having intentions of sleeping with them/getting involved romantically

He's actually not very promiscuous

However, sometimes he can be more open/more carefree

Surprisingly, he's more of a hopeless romantic, though he can be better with the right person and time

He's very much a lover

He's overall just a very good hearted person and doesn't like hurting people

He'll do anything and everything to make sure someone's okay

(If he could) He'd die for anyone

Additional information/miscellaneous facts:

He hates olives and cucumber

He has a scar on his shoulder from playing with his fathers thunderbolt

He loves to sing-to someone he likes or on his own

He can play the piano

He doesn't like his wings being touched, unless it's by the right person

*(Added)If it's by said person, it can make him shy/nervous/heated(in a NSFW way)

His wings will sometimes come out if he's comfortable, drunk, tired, angry/upset, or giving/receiving affection, but they'll usually stay tucked in behind him

*(Added)His wings rustle when he's nervous/angry/tired/etc...and yes he's very much aware of it

His wings just....go through his clothing, so they don't rip or need holes

(Added)When he's been in relationships they've always been long term

He doesn't always have his wings exposed unless it's necessary or he feels like it

He forever wishes to fly around the world at night

When he was being taught to use his wings, he almost broke his arm

He has the ability to fly down to Earth, which is never noticed because he can make himself invisible

If his wings are spread, he can apply the same ability so he doesn't hit anything with them

They sparkle too...sometimes

He can lose his feathers-especially when they’re cleaning themselves

He doesn’t use his fatal powers on people just for fun and will usually use them when he needs to

When he’s upset, though he can control it, his powers can get out of hand at times. Depending on the situation 

He's met a dragon...once

He likes his whiskey, so don't touch it

He has a home on earth and one in the clouds

He doesn't like loud noises or bright lights

He suffers from chronic headaches

(Added)He has ADHD (attention deficit hyperactivity disorder)

(Added)He does struggle with anxiety

(Added)He can get frustrated/overwhelmed quickly

(Added) He has insomnia most of the time

He has a love hate relationship with birds...

He can be okay with kids...but the fucker knows nothing

He was given power ever since he was born

Gerasimos means: Derived from Greek γερας (geras) meaning "honour, gift." (source here)

He doesn't like having his picture taken

He is immortal

He likes nature

He has a bad habit of smoking/drinking

General tags:

✖let's kill tonight | aesthetic

✖king of the clouds | home

✖mad as rabbits | desires

✖casual affair | hidden artist

✖crazy = genius | musings

✖new perspective | roleplay

✖hey look ma i made it | self

(New)✖pour gasoline on the vault, just to burn the cash | queue

(Updated/new)Tag(s) for AU’s:

✖emperor's new clothes | vampire au

(Updated/new) Relationship/general ship tag(s):

✖you are at the top of my lungs | lovers

(New) Separate blogs:

Medusa: @xsnakesforhair-stoneforlifex

Hermes: @xmessanger-of-the-godsx

Anchiale Ember(fire goddess): @xginger-geodex

Astred Bergljot(elf): @xa-woodland-creaturex

Miranda Lock(succubus): @faux-freedom

The siblings(werewolves): @the-solidite-siblings

Lilith Greed(vampire): @xland-of-the-living-deadx

**I have one other blog that I'm not gonna post on here for privacy reasons. But if you're curious to what that is, feel free to ask

(New)Other (side)blogs:

Zeus: @xking-of-the-godsx

Hera: @xqueen-of-the-godsx

Alessandra Galanis: @xi-dont-know-what-i-amx

Jaysen Gerasimos: @xking-of-the-overcloudsx

Griffin Saffi: @xthe-fortune-tellerx

Eve Gabriel: @xthe-corrupt-angelx

Maud Ember: @xthe-lone-fawnx

Rule section:

NO MINORS! Mun is OF AGE, if you are under 18, DO NOT follow!

I don’t care if you’re “close enough” to 18, or are mature for your age

If you’re under 18, don’t interact until you’re of age

If mun finds out that a partner is underage, they will be reported and blocked

Please don't do the thing where you follow me, unfollow, then follow me again only to repeat the process. It's super annoying, confuses me, and down right irritates me. Either you follow me or you don't, don't flip back and forth

If that happens a lot it might end up resulting in a soft block. Unless it's explained, which so far it hasn't been, I'll end up being fed up with it

On my end I assume it's because you want to look through my blog for whatever reason, just without taking the two seconds to actually follow me and keep it that way

If that's the case, soft block it is. Even if it isn't, just make up your mind please

If you're here to degrade any of my muses, please leave. If you want to make a thread that has tension between your character and mine, let me know. Otherwise, don't just show up and start belittling them

If there is unnecessary degrading to my muses, the thread(s) will be dropped

On another note...just because I run Greek based blogs doesn't mean I'm okay with incest. I am 100% not okay with it, no matter what the situation is

Incest will not be allowed on here, just because you're okay with it doesn't mean I am. So please, don't just assume that

If your character is Greek based and has ties to any family related to Adonis, please tell me. Don't just keep it secret and think your muse can sleep with any of mine without knowing

If I find out later on in the thread that they're related and have already kissed or whatever, the thread will be dropped

In other words...if you know I'm most likely unaware your character is related to mine, and you reveal that later on after things took place, chances are the thread won't continue

If it's clear your muse is related to mine yet they try to make a move, the thread will also be dropped

If you're okay with family relations, I won't judge. Just don't bring it onto my blog

Yes, I know Zeus and Hera are siblings. This is not new to me. But that doesn't automatically mean that I'll allow incest in any situation

Please don’t god mod, this will result in dropping threads almost instantly

Hate towards RP partners will result in blocking

Hate towards mun will yield the same result

If your intentions are to hate on another muse/mun through messages, don’t interact

Mun or Adonis is not obligated to reply, so be patient/don’t pressure them

Some themes may be off limits or would rather be discussed first-for example, NON-consensual rape, incest, minors in 18+ scenarios, discrimination of anyone, and SOME violence/injury is off limits. Such as car accidents, shootings, stabbing, etc. But gore, angst, and other forms of violence can be okay

Adonis doesn’t feel comfortable with killing another muse(s). The line is drawn at violence, threats, arguing, etc

Will not RP through messages but to plot and talk OOC, it’s not too enjoyable for mun and Adonis

One line replies will most likely result in dropping of threads or posts-please don’t do this if you want to interact. It’s quite annoying, though sometimes it’s okay for short posts

I'm okay if others have a different writing style than mine, and will usually interact with them anyway. But first person is quite annoying, I'm not Adonis or any of my characters, and first person just doesn't work for me

Your replies don't have to match the length of mine, write as little or as much as you want

However...as said above, one replies are a little annoying too. But I 100% understand if that's how you write, I just find it hard to keep my replies the same way

If previous rules are broken, there may be a simple warning-unless age is the problem

Notes from the mun:

(Added) Mun is a nursing school student, so at times please be patient with replies

This blog can contain dark topics at times and I’ll try my best to tag them as much as possible, but if I post something that makes you uncomfortable tell me so I can tag it

I try to tag NSFW content but not always

This blog is semi-selective, but will remain as fair as possible

Feel free to tag the muse in open posts or starters!

If you want to interact, feel free to send in or tag the muse in whatever you’d like. You don’t have to ask

Open to OC’s, fandom based characters, and canon characters-so, anyone

Each relationship/plot/thread takes place in AUs

Relationships can be platonic, but mun would prefer each one to have some form of romantic/sexual intention

Pre-established relationships are welcome!

If you’re not sure about shipping, feel free to ask

If there’s a problem with the plot or there’s questions, tell/ask me

With the previous statement, this blog may contain dark topics at times and if any of it makes your muse/mun uncomfortable, please tell me

If possible, mun would like to know at least a little bit of information about your muse if there isn’t an obvious bio already. Though this isn’t a requirement, just makes creating threads easier

Updates are always possible, so if there is any I’ll be sure to add a note of where the update is (side note, if you've read this, please give it a like so I know you've seen it)

[jinjojess]

Opinion on each zanki zero character?

While I’m here, I should also answer this fantastic ask:

Anonymous said: Are the Zanki Zero characters names as stupid as Danganronpa character names? ‘cause one of the characters is named after a type of tractor

I also need to post my feelings on ZZ in general, but so far it’s pretty cool. The characters aren’t really out of their introductory shallow stages yet but they show promise. I don’t care what the haters say, I find Extend TV amusing. The game’s premise is cool, the 3D character models look nice, and the system of exploring new islands that wash up as dungeons to gather resources and get story beats is cool.

This may be the closest thing I get to DanRon Mystery Dungeon.

While I normally don’t like stories where death is impermanent, this seems like it will tackle more the psychological strain of immortality and the goal will be to get your zanki (extra lives) to zero, linking the end/goal of the game to the way it started: with suicide. If so, I’m here for that.

Anyway, my thoughts on the characters.

Minor Spoilers!

Higurashi Haruto - Basic SpikeChun VN protag so far: kinda bland, ahoge, etc. I do like his glasses, though, and the fact he was an editor. That’s a unique detail. Aside from oversleeping once, hasn’t exhibited much slothfulness, unless you count his inability to act when he and Susukino took a ride on the Tentacle Express. As for his suicide attempt (completion?), I suspect that’s true of everyone, not just Higurashi.

How Stupid Is That Name?Low. Higurashi means living hand-to-mouth, which is very on the nose for this situation (also likely a reference to that other VN series…). Haruto, like all the given names in this game, doesn’t have kanji, so it’s a bit tough to assign specific meaning to it. You could write it as 温人, for instance, which would mean “warm person”. Both names are real names, and fairly common at that.

Hirasaka Sachika - All I can say is, thank god she has a side besides “adowable widdle gurl!” because I am not a fan of that. It is cool to have a disabled character though. So far aside from Higurashi being a bit tactless and presumptive, it’s been handled fairly well? Sachika’s clearly extremely intelligent, likely playing everyone (she’s the one who urges everyone to go inside Mashiro Garden Tower), and appears to be the only character who doesn’t age. Since she’s original sin, wouldn’t that make her knowledge? Interesting…

How Stupid Is That Name?Moderately stupid. Hirasaka is a real name, but if it’s written that way, it’s pretty rare. The kanji used are “compare, good, hill” which you could take as comparing how well the others reform and atone for their sins. Sachika is indeed a name, and it could include a bunch of different kanji, including the ones for “happiness” or “knowledge”. Sachika’s name is what I’d consider to be the DR standard level of stupid.

Mikajime Ryou - His design was one of the ones I was the least interested in, but so far he’s been pretty amusing. I hope he doesn’t end up typecast as the “protag’s best buddy” type from DR. Real jealousy explored in a game like this would be pretty dope though.

How Stupid Is That Name?Well, as far as I know, Mikajime is not a real name, so we’re already treading pretty silly waters. The kanji basically come out to read “three flowers tied up” which is fitting the theme. Ryou is a very, very common male name, though if I had to hazard a guess here, I’d say it’s in reference to 量, which means “quantity” (as in, how much you have in the way of resources, and could feed into the envy theme).

Susukino Rinko - As is often the case with things like this, I like her design but her archetype is one that puts my teeth on edge. Please shake this Yamato Nadeshiko BS please, girl. Also, assign Lust to the beefcake dude, you cowards! I did like that I chose her and Higurashi as my least faves that I’d be cool with killing to complete the cloning mission, and lo!

How Stupid Is That Name?Susuki is the Japanese name for Chinese Silver Grass/Zebra Grass, which is already pretty silly given that she’s a florist. The “no” part means field, so duh on that, but it often gets used in dumb animanga names to stand in for the particle の which will make it a possessive. The reason I bring this up is because susuki is sometimes called “maiden grass” and Susukino’s sin is Lust. While Susukino isn’t a real surname as far as I can tell, it is the name of a neighborhood in Yokohama! Rinko’s a pretty normal lady name with the ko almost always being “child” while the Rin part can be all kinds of stuff, like forest, cold, and interestingly enough, ethics. …it also rhymes with one of the Japanese words for “penis”.

Kubota Zen - I am sad that this guy will likely become the Cursed Character of this game, because I actually find him pretty interesting. It’s always great to have a wild card in the mix, and while he’s being a little too openly Komaeda/Ouma-like in this instigator department, it seems more clearly to come from a distinctly different place than either of them. I dig it.

How Stupid Is That Name?Look at this fucking normal-ass name. Sure, the Ku part of Kubota isn’t the usual one, instead being swapped for the legal version of 9 (…suffering…), and yeah, Kubota is a brand of tractor, and okay, it’s a bit openly ironic to have your Wrath character named Zen, but honestly this is one of the least surprising names here. (It could also be one of the other zens, like the one from nature or something.)

Setouchi Minamo - The only thing stopping me from fully embracing this character as my fave is the fact that Nate likes her best. Design? Fantastic. Lady cop? Hell yes. Speaks in Osaka-ben?! FUCK YEAH. I like that she’s Pride, too, which is considered the worst one of the bunch (aside from knowledge, I guess) since she seems like she’s so…Asahina-like. Setouchi is a fucking cutie and I love her, the end. Pride Month, baby.

How Stupid Is That Name?I swear to god, her last name has to be a reference to the Seto Inland Sea since it’s written in Japanese as 瀬戸内海 and is even colloquially referred to as “Setouchi”. It also just so happens to be located…in Kansai! In fact, it feeds into Osaka Bay and is a major transportation hub around the Kansai region. Minamo is a common girl’s name, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen it written with kanji before. I mean I guess the Mi could be “beauty” which might fit the Pride theme? Or you could read it as a pun that means “and everyone else too” or something? The jisho is telling me that it can be an alternate way to read the word for “water surface” which could fit with the theme of being named after a sea.

Ichiyou Mamoru - Right now he’s leaning a bit too hard on the Gonta gap-moe thing, where he’s an intelligent sciencey type who’s also mega buff, but I like the idea of him being actually really anxious underneath his go-with-the-flow exterior. As long as he develops into a more round character, I will like him a lot. Also, he’s tied with Setouchi as hottest character. Not really sure how the Greed thing comes in yet though. Ugh, he should’ve been Lust, SpikeChun, get it together.

How Stupid Is That Name?Not very. Ichiyou means “one leaf” which evokes (in me at least) the idea of an Adonis statue with a single leaf over its groin. Ichiyou is a real surname, and Mamoru is very much a real given name. The most obvious meaning being 守る, “to protect” which in this case can mean his patients or maybe his dragon horde because Greed. 

Mashiro Yuma - She is my favorite character right now, because hot damn, do I relate. This game is so fucking diverse for a Japanese game–a disabled girl and a chubby chick?! God, it’s like Togami and Celes had a daughter who was raised by Sagishi and I fucking love her. The Gluttony thing is pretty surface level right now, though I suspect that she’s going to be fairly relevant to the story given how important the Touwa Mashiro Group is in this world. She’s right behind Setouchi and Ichiyou for character I’d be most attracted to irl, cause I like thicc girls. Not a big fan of her fashion sense, but everything else is fucking great.I especially appreciate that she’s not really that spoiled or nasty, either? Like she’s snarky, yeah, but not the full Togami. Anyway I love Mashiro.

How Stupid Is That Name?Mashiro means “pure white” which could refer to a lot of things–being free from sin, being ironically NOT free from sin, etc. Pretty sure Mashiro is a real last name. Yuma is pretty uncommon, though. The kanji that you can use for it often include ones for “freedom” or “friend” or “kind” and so on for the “Yu” part, while the “ma” could be “center” (making her name end the way it begins), “hemp/cannabis”, or “jasmine”. It would be really funny if her given name was written as “freedom cannabis” since it would be like “free to be high”.

Terashima Shou - He’s a boke and I think his unnervingly Tezuka-like art style is kind of fun. I dunno, like I said, I don’t care what you kids think, I love manzai.

How Stupid Is That Name?I need to assume that they intend to write the surname as 照島 (illuminated island) considering the catchphrase and the locale, though I guess you could also interpret it as like “tereru” for “embarrassed”? Shou’s usually written as “soar”, but I suspect that this is just a pun based on the English word “show” (as in, TV show). Might also be a little nod to best friend Genocider.

Mirai - The straightman of the manzai team. I like her too–I think she does a great job of being expressive and her comedic timing is pretty good. She’s also fairly cute, so like Nate said, I wouldn’t mind merch of her.

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