#lost internet for three fucking weeks.

[vroomian]

Did you guys know that this chapter of bfiasc was supposed to be done at the beginning of august??? 🙃

[paperbag1999]

i’m someone who sees things in like constant shades of grey and i quite often try to see the light side of things and i think i’m constantly reminded of all the great stuff i have in my life. also i am full of gratitude all the time and also every time something bad happens to me i’m like yknow what this makes sense🫶 all these bad things suck but they lead to so many amazing things i’m hyper aware of the butterfly effect. so uhm i’m a pretty resilient person if i do say so myself. so today when i came to the realization of OH. i’m having a BAD YEAR!

[justatypicalwizard]

Bakugo who eats you out because he lost a bet, smut

It all started with a bet. It was this specific chaotic type of bet that you throw over your shoulder when agitated. The one that comes pistoling out of your lips as soon as it comes to your mind, or even earlier, a fog of war limits your common sense.

This was often the case with Katsuki Bakugo who was world widely known as the most annoying person on earth.

Okay, maybe he stood on this podium only in your world (others deemed Denki as the most insufferable) but it was enough to fire the never ending quarrels.

The two of you were similar in many senses, none of which would ever admit. Despite you being way less aggressive, you had your ways of getting under other peoples’ skin when displeased. You had this fighting spirit and competitive nature that could tune well with Katsuki’s. Unfortunately it most often sang off-key.

It was hard to tell what he thought about you. On one hand you’d say he definitely disliked you, to some point maybe? If he did dislike you he wouldn’t keep you around the small circle of his friends. Katsuki proved that he could push away anyone he wished to, no matter the circumstances. That’s what happened with Deku.

So Katsuki Bakugo disliked the fact that he liked you. Or he liked to dislike you. Either way you fought, ebbed and always surged back. Oh, and bets?

I bet you won’t even make it halfway before the time is up. He throws when he passes you down the hallway, spotting you bending your back over a book, minutes before the exam.

I bet your lovely friend will come looking for you soon. You snicker leaving him in the kitchen of the house party you’re both at. He’s currently hiding from a bimbo who really tries to ask him out and doesn’t take no for an answer.

I bet your mum dropped you when you were little.

I bet Miruko will kick your ass over this.

I bet they’ll send this essay back. It’s shit.

I bet it’ll die in this sunlight.

“Huh.” He knit his brows together, throwing you a nasty look. “Old hag didn’t say anything. It looks like it needs light.”

You were currently in his dorm room, analysing a small plant his mother left him. It was tiny, in a small ceramic pot, with three juicy green leaves poking out of the fresh soil.

“Well, I bet it’ll die if you put it in this sun.” You threw, shrugging your shoulders.

“Okay. If I win you’ll shut the fuck up for a single day around me. No words, not even a squeak.”

With the eye of your imagination you could see Katsuki pestering you for a whole day while you’d be unable to fire back. Yet, you had nothing to worry about. The little dude on the windowsill will bear three of four days before wittering. It’s the type that needs more shade.

“Fine. And if I win you can eat my ass.”

He chuckled, throwing a not happening over his shoulder before ushering you to work you both had to do.

A week later you were back in his room. It was a pleasant place to work in - clean, quiet, and always stocked with tea and coffee. Unlike you, Katsuki had the luxury of a single room which always soured your mood when he rubbed it in your face.

You were resting in his desk chair, legs crossed and organising a bunch of sources you were about to use later in your dissertation. It was the least pleasant part of writing essays. Finding academic sources in the library or browsing for them on the internet was not half bad. One could get in the swing of it after some time. And it made you feel like a real student all book heavy bags in a spacious bibliotheca.

Organising them later though? A pain in the ass.

“-by the way.” You caught only the ending of his sentence.

“Huh?” Turning around you spotten Katsuki looking at something in the far end of his room.

There was a closet there, one that didn’t quite reach the ceiling but was massive in shape. Atop of it sat the little dude in his sweet ceramic pot. Unfortunately all that was left of his three juicy leaves was one stem fighting for its life.

You clapped your hands in satisfaction, cracking a victorious laugh.

“Told you.” Fake wiping a tear from your cheek, you turned back to the desk and searched for the box you were about to tick off the long list. “Give it some more water and time. It will be fine.”

“So.” You felt him standing behind you. His shadow disrupted your writing.

“So?” Once again you turned around in his chair, cocking your brow in question.

“You won.” He crossed his arms, tapping his foot on the soft carpet in irritation.

You nodded your head with a grin but still ruffled. “Yes, and?”

“And you told me I can eat your ass.”

“Oh yeah, stuff your stupid mouth full.” You laughed but he yanked you by the arm, standing you up.

He dropped to his knees, pushing your bottom into the rim of his desk. With a shit eating grin he slipped his fingers into the sides of your trousers, grazing the bare skin of your hips underneath them.

“What the fuck dude?” You cursed, grabbing his forehead like the one of a misbehaved dog, trying to pacify him.

“Tell me to stop and I will.” The grin never left his face as he waited for your words, digging his nails into your skin.

It would be a lie to say that you never ever thought of him that way. Of course he was pretty, with his naturally fair hair that gave him a punk kind of look. With his body carved out like a marble statue. With a grin that made people both want to slap him and fawn over him.

Yes, it did cross your mind that he would be a pleasant view in the bed. Who with a sound mind wouldn’t think of that. Maybe people who weren’t attracted to-

No, it was a normal thought to have, one that may occur when you’re alone under the shower or in bed. You just often appreciate the beauty of your friends. Mina’s also cute and Kirishima is bulked as hell. It was a rational train of thoughts.

So why wasn’t your rational mind telling your hand to push him away just now? Why were you looking at his face, so close to your clothed cunt and feeling excitement bubble in your veins.

Tell me to stop and I will.

And you never did. So he pushed you to sit on the desk, pulling both your trousers and pants down at the same time. You kicked the air a few times to get rid of them but they hung from one of your ankles. It didn’t matter because his face was at its place. God bless you showered before coming here because you could have second thoughts otherwise.

“Okay, whatever the fuck you want, psycho.” You breathed as he lapped at your clit, still looking up at you.

His fingers creeped towards the inner side of your tight and you slapped him over the head.

“Uh, uh. I told you you could eat me out, not finger me. Yesterday you didn’t seem like the one to take shortcuts.” You spat, drinking up his frustration and slight… shame? Like a kid who did something wrong and got caught red handed.

“Fine.” He muttered pushing his tongue inside you. “It won’t take long anyway.” The grin was back on his face.

It indeed didn’t take long as soon, your legs were shutting tightly around his face. You weren’t even looking down anymore, the sight was a turn on but you were already overdriven. Your competitive nature was in a bliss and your head played fucking Katsuki Bakugo, on his fucking knees, between my fucking legs over and over like a broken record. You didn’t want to spoil your fun by thinking he may be having a  merrier time than you.

Not now, not when you’re so close and his palms are grabbing your tights, fingers digging into your muscles so much it would hurt if not the tension. Edging your release, you grabbed his hair in a tight fist pushing him in more, crossing your legs like it would take an “open, sesame!” to undo them.

At last, with a final short breath you came chuckling and moaning. A Katsuki may have slipped past your lips but only once.

He tore your legs open, panting like he just finished a marathon. Looking down you covered your lips to hide the laugh. His face was wet, smeared all over with what was a mixture of you both. His cheeks were heavy with blood, an intense red cutting out on his pale face. Classically, his brows were knit together.

“Did you have to make such a mess?” The blonde stood up and went to his bathroom. You caught a glimpse of the bulge in his pants.

The sound of the faucet reached your ears.

“I’m not gonna say sorry. You asked for it.” And you were pretty good at it. No. Such praise would kill your ego.

The water stopped running and you heard him stomp back. You pulled your trousers on quickly, suddenly feeling awfully naked. What would happen now? Your casual friend just ate your pussy like it was his last meal before a death sentence, and you were supposed to go back to organising the sources.

You felt a hard push to the back of your head.

“Stop thinking about it and get back out.”

Eh?!

Time went on quickly and in a weird manner. A huge something was in the air but you couldn’t find a way to bring the topic up. Why did you eat my pussy out of the blue? Was it really just about the bet? Were you feeling horny and I just so happened to be there? Are we fwb now? Do you like me?

Scratch the last one. The man gave you a headache ever since his own head left your tights. Also, he was nowhere to be found. Katsuki didn’t respond to texts, he was absent from the gym during his usual hours, and his dorm room was closed. You couldn’t just go to Kirishima and say: hey, I’m trying to figure out why Katsuki gave me head, wanna help?

The moment you run into his fleeting ass, you're gonna squeeze out the answer.

An opportunity came soon when you spotted him sneaking into the laundry room. It was a cramped space with washing machines and dryers. Fortunately, you had little thieves around dorms so people usually left their washing while it was in progress. There was a big chance you’d be alone.

Running to the door you yanked them open and rushed inside. Indeed, it was only him crouched to the lowest washing machine, putting mostly black clothes inside.

“You’re here for round two?” He smirked and you gasped.

It took you by surprise, you expected yelling or awkwardness. Nevermind. You shook off your initial stumble.

“Can you explain what the fuck do you mean by all this?” You gestured in the air as if all this was a laundry basket and an empty bottle of washing liquid scattered on the floor.

Katsuki hummed, shrugging his shoulders. He dropped the halfway loaded laundry on the floor and crawled closer to you, gripping your hips in a familiar manner. This time, you were wearing a skirt. Your back hit the door.

“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop.” It fell from his lips as if he was asking whether you want vanilla or chocolate ice-cream.

Your mind ran in circles like a hamster in its ball. Start a fuss and possibly fight with Katsuki or let him do his thing and cum? Uhh.

He took your panties off completely, throwing them into his washing machine but left your skirt. Halfway in, when your chest was heaving and hips pushed further and further away from the door you heard a sound on the other side.

The doorknob shook and there was a mumble on the outside. You dug your feet into the ground and Katsuki put one of his hands to shut it closed. Yet, he didn’t stop what he was doing. Both of your palms also pushed into the thin wood making you unable to quiet the panting and loud gulps. You bit your lip and it would break if something wasn’t stuffed inside your mouth.

Taking a sharp breath through your nose, you smelled him. He stuffed your mouth with one of the shirts from his laundry. You threw him a dirty look from above to which he only smirked, going back down.

“It’s locked.” The muffled voice on the other side said.

“Maybe maintenance.” A different one answered.

When they were gone, you could finally cum, biting hard into Katsuki’s shirt. You steadied yourself on a drier afterwards while he wiped his mouth with a spare T-shirt before throwing all the leftover laundry inside the washing machine and starting it.

“My pants.” You breathed out, you were still coming back to earth.

“Ops.” He threw and with a single long stride, escaped the murder scene.

Your walk of shame in the short skirt, without panties on was long.

The third time you could talk to him happened only a day later.

You were studying with Kirishima, or more like tutoring him for free, in the library. Kirishima also had a single room in the dorms but his was far more trashy and you didn’t crave to spend time in that man cave. Instead you booked a private study room. It had a small round table, a few chairs and switches to plug in electric devices.

Halfway through your study Kirishima stated he needed to go to the bathroom. You nodded and the man left. Only after a minute did you hear the door open once more.

“A line in the mens’? Unbelievable.” You chuckled but upon looking up, you were met with a nasty grin.

“Kirishima told me you guys were studying.” He cornered you. “You know the deal.”

Katsuki slipped behind your chair as you whipped your head around to stop him. He placed both of his hands on your shoulders, surprisingly gentle.

“Just tell me to stop.”

Oh fuck you you pretty bastard. Is what you thought.

“Oh fuck you.” Is what you said and you wanted to add something but he pushed your upper half into the table simultaneously yanking the chair from under your butt.

It took a lick for your knees to get kinda soft and your morale to stumble between being a decent person or getting this unbelievably lucky chance for a third time.

“Can we at least do it after I finish with Kiri? I can come to your room as quickly as I am able to.” You whispered.

“Or you can call the dumbass and buy me a few minutes.” Katsuki muttered between your folds.

You cursed under your breath and grabbed your phone. Pick up, pick up, pick up, goddamn. Kirishima could be back any second. Although nothing terrible would happen if he came in on you, it would be embarrassing like hell. Finally, you heard his voice on the other side of the line.

“I’m just coming back, literally wait a second-”

“No!” You shouted into the device. “I mean.”

Katsuki seemed to slow down between your tights. Good, the bastard is not stupid and he cut you some slack this time.

“I’m sorry but I just really need a coffee, I thought you’d still be somewhere around the entrance.” You pieced together a makeshift excuse.

“I can go back. ‘Ts the least I can do for your help.” Kirishima laughed so genuinely it made you feel slightly bad for playing him like this.

“Yeah, uh, it really is boring like hell.” You laughed. The whole phone call made you unable to focus on Katsuki who was behind you and you really wanted to go back to minding him. “If I can be honest it would be lovely if you could bring me coffee from that cafe down and opposite of the library. You know which. I slept really bad and need their double espresso.” Kiri, please just say yes!

“Of course, anything for you.”

That sweetheart. Kirishima was really the perfect man, contrary to Katsuki who just now, at the very end of your call, decided to be an absolute asshole.

You felt two of his fingers push past your entrance and force your walls open. A breath got caught in your throat.

“Okay thanks, bye!” You smashed the end call button. “What the fuck are you do-”

But he was turning you around, lapping his tongue over your clit, moving his fingers in and out of your cunt all of which with closed eyes and a blissful look on his face. You gave in, because it felt so good.

After a while you finished all over his face, for the third time this week.

“I told you not to finger me.” You complained, dressing yourself in fear of Kirishima being too neat in his mission to get you coffee.

“I know and I didn’t like it. So I had to distract you.” He smirked, resting his hip on the table.

At that moment, Kirishima came inside with two paper cups, steam escaping the small opening in the lids.

“Oh, hi dude! I didn’t think you’d come here. I’d buy you coffee too.” Kirishima chirped.

“Forget about it, I was supposed to do something anyway. Just came in to say hi.” The blonde flicked his hand in the air. “Oh, and if you want-” He turned to you. “You can come to my room later and finish what we were talking about.” With that he slipped past the door leaving you with a grimace and Kirishima with a dumbfounded expression.

“What were you guys talking about?” The redhead asked.

“Nothing important, just about transplanting a small plant his mum gave him. I’ll help him later, he has already managed to nearly kill it.”

[ew-selfish-art]

Dp x Dc AU: It’s not the usual suspects trying to summon the undead this time, and it’s proving to be a massive headache for John Constantine. They seem...Competent. 

When John sniffed out a new plot to summon a ghost, he kind of laughed it off. Ghosts were not more than shades of the people/creatures they used to be, without all the right resources and enough buy in from the greater spirits of the Infinite Realms, most entities that came thought might scare some kids at a slumber party but that was at most. Plus, kids were scary resilient these days thanks to the internet, so really, John’s not worried. 

Then he hears about the gathering of artifacts and he has to care a little more. He learns that one Jasmine Fenton is involved and he’s... Surprised. She’s got a public record of dismissing her parent’s inventions and causing stirs at supernatural conventions (not to mention a great reputation as a research focused psychologist). Jasmine’s credit cards report a great deal of cash (refunded to her account by an unknown off-shore account) being taken out and her location is right next to the last place anyone could find a shard of the Crown. 

Yeah, that Crown. The Infinite, ancient blessed and deity cursed one. John had meant to get around to investigating if the shard of obsidian (fire forged) was legit, so he begins to set his sights on Jasmine for a ‘chat’. 

Then Sam Manson, a scary ass Heiress, pulls up in a limousine and all but kidnaps him and dumps him outside city limits. She tells him that he’s been cursed for the next 48 hours to stay out of their city- If he comes close, any plant will identify him in a heartbeat and come to life to kill him. (Fun fact: there are a goddamn lot of plants surrounding this stupid town, even the dandelions are forging knives to kill him.)

THEN worse, Red Robin gets on his ass about cybersecurity of all things. Turns out another player, identified by the moniker TooFineTooFurious has been tracking John’s phone and has been rummaging around official JLD documents- How was John supposed to know that keeping his passwords on the notes app could be hackable? Red Robin declares him incompetent and John can only sigh, crush his phone and move on. 

That all leads him to the summoning portal in front of him in this weird ghost themed high school gymnasium. It’s far too competent. It gives him goosebumps even before he can read out that they’re summoning the King of the Infinite Realms himself. John clicks the panic alarm on his JL communicator before engaging with the Trio before him. 

They’re not wearing any capes, no candles are lit, but this is the scariest cult he’s ever seen. Jasmine Fenton, ghost denier, Sam Manson, Heiress and Plant Witch (?), Some other dude with a beret and fucking DRONES (he considers this might be the man who hacked him). John pleads with them, they don’t know what they’re trying to do. Pariah Dark will kill them all, eat their entire planet for breakfast!! Everyone rolls their eyerolls at him, and he’s taken aback by their nonchalance. 

Plant guards grab him and a drone has a laser sight on his forehead. He fights but is subdued- They’re almost done chanting when Superman, Green Lantern, Red Robin and Cyborg all appear. Despite their disruption- the chanting ends with the green illumination of the circle. Despair fills the air. 

And then- Poof- a groaning young man appears. 

“Dudes you have no idea how unhelpful the Infi-map is sometimes. I was lost for like weeks and CW was being such a bitch ab- What. Wait, who are all- Holy shit did you guys summon the Justice League?” The Ghost King in full Regalia stared back at them in questioning concern. The three summoners start bitching  at the monarch and John... isn’t sure if this is going to be an interdimensional incident yet. 

[dollfaceksj]

still don’t know my name | jjk (m) pt. 2

➥ banner by: @archivedkookie.

➥ PAIRING: jungkook x fem!reader

➥ SUMMARY: In which your annoying neighbor—that you can’t stand—turns out to be the person behind the online account you’ve been sexting. You still don’t know his name.

➥ GENRE: smut ⋆ cybersex ⋆ enemies

➥ CATEGORY: mini three-shot

➥ WARNINGS: mentions of rough sex; slapping, spanking, hair pulling, gagging, name calling, humiliation, degradation, mean!jk, biker!jk😋, bratty!reader (like reallll bratty), nude exchanging, pornography, cybersex, reader is a bit dumb, actually very dumb, sexting, flirting, neighbor beef, tension, jk smokes, bit of angst (cus it wouldn’t be a fic of mine if it didn’t have angst ofc), mentions of raw sex (WRAP IT UP), minors DNI

➥ WORDCOUNT: 11.8k

a/n: whew. HI. can’t believe pt1 went off like that😭 thank u sm for enjoying this fic !

thanks to tumblr’s new 1k max blocks limit, i had to add the rest in a reblog. you’ll find a link to it at the bottom!

i call this a mini three-shot cause i just left out all the unimportant stuff. it just constantly skips to scenes where yn & jk bump into each other i really dgaf if it’s coincidental the entire time. i had and still have no intention of adding more lore than necessary😭 its just a pwp so i rlly dc abt the lack of story telling and whatnot i just wanted to get this horny idea out 🙄

make sure to check out eli’s version too! <3

enjoy 😘😘 — the next part (pt. 3) will be the final part!

⋆ TAGLIST ⋆

⇠ PREV. ⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆ NEXT ⇢

#2 — “gameboy”

You still don’t know his name.

⋆  ⋆  ⋆  ⋆  ⋆  ⋆  ⋆  ⋆  ⋆  ⋆  ⋆  ⋆  ⋆  ⋆  ⋆  ⋆  ⋆  ⋆  ⋆  ⋆  ⋆  ⋆ ⋆

And that is how you spend the rest of your weeks.

Flirting.

Sexting.

Sending pictures of your naked body to a random stranger on the internet.

A random stranger whose name you do not know.

A random stranger that doesn’t know your name, either.

A random stranger that you’re somehow slightly possessive over.

A random stranger that’s somehow slightly possessive over you.

Constantly posting subtweets about each other only further proves that. Indirectly wanting to tell other people to back off without actually doing so.

It’s crazy how you two clicked almost immediately. Maybe men aren’t a lost cause after all.

The subtweets consist of more pornographic content, provoking each other and wording your wishes of what you would like to do to one another on your timelines.

Like posting captions that say, ‘wish you were here’ alongside a video of a woman getting fucked into a worn-out mattress.

Or ‘this could be us’ and it’s a video of 2 people kissing like it’s their last day on earth.

But then at times, you both just chat like best friends. Talk about the movies you like. Or the anime he recommends. Or the music he likes to listen to. He gets oddly defensive about Justin Bieber.

Even though you’re both aware that you’re two strangers, you can’t help but feel like you two have known each other for longer than just a few weeks.

Like the time you found out you live in the same timezone. Live in the same state. Grew up watching the same things on TV. Have heard of each other’s high schools.

But any details have been kept private so far—for safety reasons, of course.

It’s not like you don’t trust him. It’s not that. It’s just weird sharing personal info with someone you don’t know personally.

But there’s been some talks about potentially meeting each other.

You wonder what he’s like in real life.

You bet he’s as charming as he is through text. Probably average looking but you don’t mind in the slightest. Pretty men only break hearts.

You still don’t know what he looks like and vice versa.

You still don’t know his name and vice versa.

Somehow you both wordlessly agreed on revealing your faces when you meet for the first time. The only physical details you’ve noticed are some of his tattoos that you can barely make out thanks to the poor quality of his pictures. His toned body. Veins. Sweatpants.

Most of his pictures are taken in the dark. Seems like he’s always just holed up at home and you deduce he might be a homebody or a gamer—something like that.

You usually can’t stand gamers (cue your annoying fucking neighbor) however, you can’t help but fantasize about sucking this random online stranger off while he’s gaming or have him bend you over his gaming setup. Let him fuck you from behind over his keyboard. Hips pounding into your asscheeks as his gaming chair squeaks.

The buzzing of your phone next to your hip snaps you out of your sinful trance.

[Twitter]

@archurback4me sent you a message!

Your heart always jolts like it’s been resuscitated every single time he sends you a message and that hasn’t changed in the past few weeks. There are simply no words to describe how it feels when your phone buzzes and it’s the person you’re thinking about.

You sit straight up on your couch, crossing your legs criss-cross applesauce as you giddily unlock your phone.

@archurback4me | 11:12AM

Goodmorning brat

How’d you sleep

Sleep. How’d you sleep.

Right, that’s what you’d forgotten!

You | 11:13AM

wait omg

now i remember

i dreamed about you omggg

well you were kinda faceless but in my dream i knew it was you

@archurback4me | 11:13AM

Did you?

What kind of dream

You | 11:13AM

honestly it started out weird as fuck lol

i wish i could tell you something sexy but it really isn’t

you were in my old high school trying to buy something from the vending machine and it wouldn’t work

so you ended up punching it and then i stopped you

and told you to hit me instead like some kind of pick me girl lmaoooooo

@archurback4me | 11:14AM

LMAOOOO

Bruhhh

That is so random

Hitting you is crazy

You | 11:14AM

i know

i mean

watching you be so aggressive was pretty hot tho

woke up w drenched panties

@archurback4me | 11:15AM

That so?

You got proof or are you just talking out of your ass?

You | 11:15AM

ur trying to see my pussy at 11am? really? you’re horny at this hour?

@archurback4me | 11:16AM

11AM or 11PM

Idgaf

Let me see that pretty pussy

How are you supposed to decline when he says it like that?

You want to do everything he asks. Anything. Want him to want you. Need him to want you.

You drag your sweats down your legs, tossing them off your bed with a quick kick. The tip of your finger slips under the elastic of your panties, peeling it off your pussy and sliding it to the side.

Arm stretched out, you reach for a low angle of your glistening pussy. There’s a teeny tiny bit of stubble coming through, not that either of you really care.

You snap a quick photo. Check it. Aren’t satisfied. Snap a few more until you’re okay with the row of pictures you can choose from.

You | 11:19AM

(You sent a photo.)

@archurback4me | 11:21AM

For fucks sake

That wet from imagining me shaking up a vending machine, are you?

Shit

Can’t stop staring

You | 11:21AM

well yes.

i mean honestly

i don’t fantasize about you hitting me or anything like that

but being slapped across the face by you kind of sounds... hot

@archurback4me | 11:23AM

I’ve seen you tweet about it before

And you’ve rted several videos like that

So trust me

I know you’re into that

You | 11:23AM

hmm

yeah

i think it’s hot

but not like.. the way you’d slap someone for making fun of your mom

just... a quick slap to make me look at you when i’m disobeying

:)

@archurback4me | 11:23AM

Choking, spanking, slapping, hairpulling, spitting, gagging

You sure you can take all that?

You | 11:23AM

are you challenging me?

@archurback4me | 11:25AM

No

I know better than to challenge a brat over text

Just wanna make sure angel

You | 11:25AM

trust me i’ll be loud about it if i don’t like it

but only if you’re down with it

@archurback4me | 11:26AM

I am

Because your dirty mouth definitely deserves a few slaps whenever you start yapping like you do so well

You | 11:27AM

kiss my ass jay

you wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid lmao

Oh, right. He’d told you to call him Jay about two weeks ago. You’ve been calling him that ever since.

@archurback4me | 11:30AM

Wish I could princess

Let me see that ass one more time

You | 11:30AM

🙄.

what do i get in return?

@archurback4me | 11:32AM

I’ll write your username on my pelvis and post a vid of me jacking off

Oh.

The thought of him, jacking off with your username written across his pelvis, free for everyone to see. The thought of claiming him. Having him all to yourself.

The tingle in your core is impossible to ignore. You want him.

You | 11:33AM

so all those ppl chatting you up in your dms know that you ultimately belong to me?

@archurback4me | 11:33AM

If that’d allow me to see your ass then 100%

You | 11:33AM

ur so thirsty

so many asses you can see online

why mine

@archurback4me | 11:34AM

Because yours is my favorite duh

You don’t have to of course

There’s a compromise, isn’t there?

His favorite?

Does he chat with other people as well? Do others send him pictures of their body too? Does he send them pictures too?

That alone brings a scowl to your face but you quickly realize that, yes, he can do what he wants.

You get up on your knees and stretch your arm out behind you. Phone upside down. Hit record. Spank your ass. Catch the watch it recoils on camera.

Repeat.

Make him never want anyone else again.

You | 11:35AM

🙄.

just shut up

(You sent a video.)

@archurback4me | 11:35AM

Holy shit I need you

I need you so bad

Ahhhh you’re driving me fucking crazy

You | 11:36AM

you could have me

@archurback4me | 11:36AM

I’m so serious I’ll come one of these weeks and I’m not even joking

You | 11:36AM

i wish you would

@archurback4me | 11:38AM

I will

Give me a date I’ll write it down

You | 11:38AM

you’re coming to stay for a few days, right?

i have plenty of room in my bed for you

@archurback4me | 11:39AM

Hmm

Was hoping you’d say that

One night with you would never be enough for me

You | 11:40AM

hehe

exactly 3 weeks from now

the entire week

what do you say?

@archurback4me | 11:42AM

Never noted something faster

I have a dog though

So I was thinking it’d be easier for you to come to me

You | 11:43AM

i don’t mind you bringing your dog

luv dogs

but don’t think i forgot about what i was gonna get in return for sending you my ass

@archurback4me | 11:44AM

Jeez

He doesn’t reply for quite some time. The typing bubble doesn’t pop up either.

But after several minutes a new tweet pops up on your feed.

He didn’t caption it. Just a video that starts with his abs. You watch as his fingers trail down his stomach and tug his underwear down, revealing his squiggly inked skin.

And there it is, ‘@bratgaIore’ written across his pelvis in black marker.

He spits in his hand and wraps his fingers around his shaft, stroking his rock hard dick at a perfect pace. The sound has been turned off and you really wish it wasn’t but then again, you don’t want anyone else hearing him.

Want him sounding pretty for you. Just for you.

You’ve clearly been staring at the video for too long because you get a new message.

@archurback4me | 11:54AM

Happy?

You | 11:56AM

holy shit

you actually did it

@archurback4me | 11:57AM

Of course I did

I don’t play when it comes to that ass of yours

You | 11:58AM

hm

now im rlly horny

@archurback4me | 11:58AM

Aren’t you always

You | 11:58AM

thanks to you

i hate you

@archurback4me | 11:59AM

That’s fine

The feeling’s mutual anyway

Gonna enjoy the way you fall apart under me when I fuck you

Fuck you until you’re stupid

You | 12:03PM

a dream come true

:p

guess what

@archurback4me | 12:04PM

Hm?

You | 12:06PM

(You sent a photo.)

The photo is a picture of your soaking wet pussy with his username written on your pelvis in black marker, too.

@archurback4me | 12:08PM

What the fuck

You’re trying to fucking kill me angel

I need to insert my tongue immediately

You | 12:09PM

here come the harvard graduates

insert is crazy

@archurback4me | 12:10PM

You drive me crazy

Pussy got me acting all formal and shit LMAOO

Got me wanting to wear a bib and say Itadakimasu😋 when I dive in

Fuck

Want you on my face so fucking bad

Spank you while you ride my face

Don’t think I’ve ever seen something so pretty

Think my mind will change when I see your face though

You | 12:11PM

LMAOOOO not itadakimasu😭😭😭

hmm

you like it?

@archurback4me | 12:12PM

Are you insane

I keep going back to it

You should write my username when we meet so I can see it when I take your clothes off

Know that your pussy belongs to me

You | 12:12PM

if you do it too

@archurback4me | 12:13PM

Deal

You | 12:13PM

hehe

😋.

btw

@archurback4me | 12:14PM

Hm?

You | 12:14PM

are you clean

@archurback4me | 12:15PM

What?

You | 12:16PM

like

are you clean

for raw sex

@archurback4me | 12:16PM

Oh

Yeah I am

I’ll send you my results when I’m home

You | 12:16PM

you don’t have to do that i believe you

i’m clean too

where are you rn?

@archurback4me | 12:16PM

Just left to meet a friend

You | 12:17PM

oh

you’re not texting and driving right

@archurback4me | 12:18PM

Of course not, babe.

How am I supposed to meet my dumb girl when I’m dead?

I’m going by foot

Babe.

My dumb girl.

This is dangerous territory.

You | 12:19PM

hm

just like how i want to be the death of you as i tease you while ur in public

@archurback4me | 12:19PM

Don’t

I’m warning you

I don’t wanna meet my friends with a raging boner

I just got rid of one

You | 12:20PM

ur so easy lol

@archurback4me | 12:22PM

Just you wait you little brat

Gonna leave you so fucking sore when I’m done with you

No breaks

Fuck you the whole week long

You | 12:23PM

hmm

gonna fuck me like you hate me?

@archurback4me | 12:24PM

I do hate you

A lot

Dumb girl

Don’t think that’s gonna change when I see you in real life

Might get even more pissed off when I see your bratty mug actually

I just know your face is so fucking bratty

You | 12:25PM

you’d be obsessed with me

i’m really pretty

@archurback4me | 12:26PM

Lmao yeah I probably will be

I’m sure you are

Gonna defile your pretty face when I cum all over it you stupid brat

But my friend’s here

I’ll ttyl princess

You | 12:27PM

can’t wait

bye daddy

@archurback4me | 12:27PM

Hell nahhhhh

Don’t call me that

You | 12:30PM

ok then bye mr. fuck-you-everyday-of-the-week

@archurback4me | 12:30PM

And will

Night after night

You | 12:30PM

go already

byeeeee

@archurback4me | 12:32PM

Bye princess

You go about your day like you usually would and later that night, he ends up sending you his results anyway. You were already asleep by then, though.

⋆  ⋆  ⋆  ⋆  ⋆  ⋆  ⋆  ⋆  ⋆  ⋆  ⋆  ⋆  ⋆  ⋆  ⋆  ⋆  ⋆  ⋆  ⋆  ⋆  ⋆  ⋆ ⋆

Want to keep reading? The full chapter is out on my Wattpad.

Click here to keep reading.

a/n: thanks to tumblr’s new max 1k blocks limit, i’ll have to figure out how i’m gonna post the full thing on here. (probably tomorrow or friday) either by combining paragraphs or add the continuation in a reblog or something. but its out on wattpad so i hope you’ll forgive me !!

thanks for reading <33

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Here’s the link to continuation (in a reblog).

— enjoyed it? you can always show your appreciation by buying me some coffee if you want ☕︎♡

@mygdday @coletaehyung @btspurplesky @kaitieskidmore97 @marvelbun @nini_07777 @8514238 @llallaaa @s3l3n0phil3 @agrika @ahgasegotarmy116 @canyon-lwt @boyfriendtaekook @s4yok0 @mochminnie @chimmisbae @muah-minhoe-8 @bloopkook @whoa-jo @dreami-yoonkookie @earth2fae @kissyfacekoo @keroppitae @junecat18 @hollowtree11 @jksusawife @synnfulqt @pamzn @jknoah @jjk-jeongirl @busanstarkoo @busanboykoo @codeinebelle @taegicity @bettybloop @kookssecret @MMFranklin @vickyyy97 @suciedad-divina @jkslipppiercing @heyyolly04 @partyparty-yah @kooact @osakis-gf @luna-astro-star @plushjeno @jjk1iscoming @Heyrobitches @sunnysorasworld @raineo @jjanjankook @etaerealboyv @somehowukook @larryrulesthisfuckingworld @rrrapmonste-rr @denisaandreea20 @httpjeonlicious @jjeonjennie @dellalyra @optimisticmoongalaxy @ishizhans

[the-flaneur]

lights, camera...cook? (mv1) | pt2

pairing: max verstappen x east asian twitch chef!reader [smau]

summary: max does not know how to cook. luckily, his next-door neighbour and resident internet chef might be able to help him out of his pickle. quite literally.

warnings: none (i think)

wc: 1716 + social media posts

a/n: thank you for all the support and love for pt1 ❤️ - hopefully pt2 is just as entertaining :)

additional pic creds: toka (youtube)

[prev] [masterlist] [requests]

-> twitch, cooking mommy

-> twitter

-> irl

“Mate, are you sure we’re supposed to get up at 6am to meet her? I need to sleep,” Lando whines over the phone, as Max rolls his eyes.

“She’s giving you the opportunity to eat at a Michelin star restaurant and you’re saying no,” Max snaps back, toying with Sassy, who’s climbed onto his lap from his gaming desk.

“Well count me in. Alexandra’s been pestering me to ask you if she could visit the restaurant and meet her as well. She’s a massive fan already,” Charles grins as Alexandra laughs at his quip

“When we all meet her,” Max says, “you can ask her. I’m sure she’ll say yes.”

“Fine I’ll go then. Meet at the restaurant?” Lando groans.

☆

In the early dawn of the crisp December day, there were very few passerbys on the street. Those that were there, their eyes lingered on the small group standing at the entrance to Le Louis XV. It was Max, Lando and Charles, standing awkwardly and awaiting your arrival. 

You and Max had been exchanging a multitude of texts, ranging from cat pics to his maxplaining of F1 technicalities to the best recipes for homemade stroopwafel. Max would even say (hopefully), that the two of you had even begun delving into the domain of flirty friends, with your quick wit and humour, a complement to Max’s deadpan yet very humorous attitude. 

You had mentioned off-handedly wanting to meet Max in real life. It had gone on throughout the entire week, before you had invited him out to lunch at Le Louis XV. 

At first he was ready to excitedly accept your invitation; he had never actually met you in real life and really wanted to talk to you about you. But when he had stopped and actually re-read your message, his doubts about your intentions began creeping in.

What if you were only there to help him cook? What if he had taken it the wrong way? What if you didn’t actually like him, like he thought? Just wanting to be friends? What i-

Max, he chided, you’re being ridiculous. But just for good measure, he surmised, he invited Charles and Lando too. And that’s how he dragged them both (well only Lando, Charles had come quite willingly) out to a lunch “date” with the four of you.

“Hey guys! Sorry I’m late, the babies refused to let me leave this morning,” you yelled as you ran up to the group. 

Max was in awe.

You were gorgeous. He had already seen your pictures on your Instagram and on Twitch, but you were a real knockout in real life. Not in like the high-end supermodel way (although Max would’ve loved to see you grace the cover of a magazine if he was a horny teenager), but in the way which it felt like you were an angel on Earth, delicate and pretty, and a smile as innocent as-

“FUCK!” you swore, accidentally stumbling down the last step before the restaurant’s entrance. Max rushed forward to catch you and your bags, as they went flying towards the group. As he caught you in his arms, you looked up at him and grinned. 

“Did I fall for you?” you laughed, allowing Max to push you back up as you graciously took your bags back from him and gave him a tight hug.

“Hi Maxie. Hello Charles and Lando, nice to finally meet you! Max has loves to talk about you guys-” 

“Hi,” Max blushed at the nickname, avoiding the smirking glances of Charles and Lando as they watched that interaction. Charles and Lando quickly shook your proffered hand, before trailing behind you as you unlocked the door to the restaurant.

The intense decadent and luxury was not lost on the three, as you ascend the gilded ornate stairs. The walls were lined with classical paintings, china and candles; the Le Louis XV was truly a stark contrast of the modest personality of its namesake, instead harkening back to his predecessor, Louis XIV. Afterall, one must live according to la dolce vita.

As you began rambling on about the history and position of the restaurant in the heart of Monaco, from beside you, Max stared longingly. You were literally perfect, a great cook, funny, witty, a great conversationalist and listener, and a cat lover: what more could he want in someone?

“He’s never going to stop talking about her, is he?” Charles laughs, watching the two of you converse intensely about the climate and geography of Monaco and its food production. 

“No way mate,” Lando smiles, watching you blush at Max’s comments.

☆

“I’ve just prepared a small meal for us. It’s a bit more difficult deciding what to cook for three F1 drivers, considering our usual guests,” you smiled, pushing over a series of dishes on a cart. Their eyes bulged out when they saw your “small meal”, which actually consisted of at least eight different kinds of cheese, six starters and seven mains and a tiered display of an assortment of desserts, no less.

“Max already warned me about your…distaste for fish, Lando. So don't worry about the fish-looking dishes. They’re definitely not what you think they taste. Like this one is actually veal grilled with chard and girolle mushroom,” you gestured towards a gorgeous dish, plated with golden mushrooms and deep maroon chard. 

“Now enjoy the cooking of Le Louis XV!”  

The three men could definitely see why you were the executive chef of the three Michelin star restaurant. Between quiet conversation about everything and anything, every bite was desired and savoured, the flavours exploding on the tongue or simply melting off the dish.

The cheeses were flavoursome, some creamy and others intense, but all gorgeous with a pairing of wine (or gin and tonic in Max’s case). The starters and mains were all cooked to perfection, tender yet firm, and packed intensely full of rich aromatics and spices. The desserts were truly the cherry on top, light and fluffy, beautifully contrasting the mains.

The conversation quickly turned to you, with Lando and Charles interrogating about your life, career and everything in between. Max had tried to stop them from grilling you too much, but you seemed to enjoy all the questions, answering each one with a laugh and a smile. You were not starstruck by the trio, but appreciated their deep friendship and care for one another, especially as they asked about you and Max. You enjoyed the company of people who genuinely seemed to like you and your cooking, and it was one of the happier lunches at the restaurant in the past year.

Your mind wandered off as the three began talking about the upcoming 2024 F1 season (despite it still being another three months away). Although you and Max had not said anything yet, you knew there was a deeper connection just waiting to blossom.

It was just a matter of time.

☆

“It was lovely meeting you two today, hopefully we can catch up soon enough. I’ll message Alex for a lunch date Charles,” you promised, gifting them both a small boxed cake, before heading off with Max.

“Now to your apartment, my lady?” Max joked, as you started to enter your address in his GPS. Although he knew Monaco like the back of his hand, he didn’t want to accidentally drop you off on the other side of the country (even if he wanted to spend more time with you).

A small ding alerted Max’s attention back to you, and his eyebrow furrowed when he read the display on the screen.

“DESTINATION: HOME”

“You live here?” you both turned to each other, surprised. Max had no idea that you lived in the same building as he did, while you were surprised that you hadn’t already recognised the view from Max’s apartment in his streams and photos. 

“When did you move in? I swear I’ve never seen you before,” Max asked, slowly pulling away from the curb and back onto the road.

“Well I trained in Lyon for three years, then I moved to Marseille for six months before I visited Monaco. My father’s old friend Ducasse then asked in 2018, if I wanted to become his apprentice at the restaurant, and train to become the executive chef eventually. So I left and moved to Monaco in 2019,”

“And you’ve been living and working here ever since?” Max sighed. If only he had maybe stepped outside his apartment more than three times excluding the F1 season, he could’ve met you a lot sooner.

☆

Entering the elevator, you and Max both moved to press your apartment number on the panel, your fingers brushing against each other as you pressed adjacent buttons. You quickly tore your hand away, hiding it behind your pants, as the elevator began to move upwards.

“What a coincidence that we live beside each other,” you awkwardly laughed, staring at yourself in the mirror. The elevator was once again filled with quiet silence, as the elevator near the top.

“Hey…”

“Max…”

“Oh you go first,” you laughed, staring up at Max.

“IreallylikedyourcompanytodayIwaswonderingifyouwantedtogooutonadatelikejustthetwoofus?” Max said hurriedly, his eyes straying from your gaze. You let out a small gasp, before a beaming smile was plastered across your face.

“I would love to, Max! I thought you would never ask,” you smiled bashfully, grinning at him as the doors opened.

The two of you walked out and awkwardly lingered in the hallway between your two apartments, not wanting to say goodbye just yet. “Thank you for today Max. I can’t wait to see you again,” you smiled, placing a quick kiss on his stubbled cheek. His eyes widened before looking down at your playful ones which sparkled in the light. A hot flush spread across his face, his hand reaching out to grasp your own. However, you quickly stepped back from his grasp, skipping down the hall to reach your own door.

“Also Maxie, I would love for you to come by my apartment some time,” you giggled, waving at him, before you closed your door behind you. Max stepped into his apartment and with a blush and a grin out into the Monaco harbour, he was struck with a sudden realisation.

It wasn’t just a major crush. He was in love.

[next]

series taglist

@lyannesworld @heavy-vettel @bloodyymaryyy @therealplaguedoctor @gigigreens

© the-flanuer || do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platform.

[buckets-and-trees]

"You are nothing but a toy for me to fuck, little lamb. Now open your mouth for me, or I will break your jaw opening it myself."

👀👀👀

Well... as you know, this escalated quickly.

Title: Sacrificial Characters/Pairings: Minotaur!Bucky x Botanist!Female!Reader Word Count: 3.5k Summary: If it seems too good to be true, it always is. Always. Too bad you had to go to the remote jungles of South America to learn that lesson.

Content/Concept Warnings: DARK, lulled into a trap, human sacrifice, dubious consent/fuck or die, public sex/exhibitionism, size kink, monster fucking, face fucking/oral male receiving, vaginal fingering/fisting, breast worship, rough fucking, possessive/pet, praise kink, dirty talk, cum play, marking, cream pie, choking

Additional Notes: Thoty time with @rookthorne... she's only responsible for enabling me when my monster thirst reared its head. Wicked entry for @buckybarnesevents WEEK ONE of Hot Bucky Summer: "What Should I Wear?" and my third square of @buckybarnesbingo K1 "Fuck or Die."

When you told your friends, family, and former colleagues about the research grant and fellowship you had been awarded in the weeks leading up to your departure that it was too perfect, clearly somewhere deep in your bones you had known.

Eighty thousand dollars a year for three years, travel covered, visa approved, fully furnished accommodations provided, and a book deal for the discoveries and research studying flora in a largely undocumented and remote part of the jungle on another continent.

No scientist got a deal like that.

The only downside was the isolation of the location. They had electricity and running water, but you would only be able to go into town for internet every few weeks.

But the part of you that had grown up watching Indiana Jones, Jurassic Park, LOST, and the deep space missions of Star Trek who had far too many plants in your apartment and in your tiny office at the university had beat back that downside. It was only three years, and after living through the strange isolation of the pandemic, you knew you could manage this where you wouldn’t be isolated from people, just for short stints from your old life.

And though you had good pieces and good people in your life, you were desperate to get away from the suffocating societal expectations you felt like you weren’t living up to while so many others around you were – marriage, kids, white picket fences, career accomplishments, tenured professorships, promotions, raises, overnight influencers, travel vloggers.

This was something no one you knew had ever done.

Everyone raved about the adventure ahead of you.

Everyone had been impressed.

You had conquered in the accomplishments department with this for the year, no question. Your older sister with her third child on the way and your younger brother and his Premiere League football contract could wallow in your shadow.

This was a golden opportunity for a research botanist still in the early years of their career.

Kneeling on the ground in the middle of the jungle with your hands folded in your lap, head bowed, surrounded by a village of people who all should have known better than to follow ancient superstitions, with a dozen or more guns trained on you in nothing more than lingerie, you were living a nightmare.

All of it had been a baited trap.

No one would even question you falling off the grid before it was too late, and even if they did, these villagers could say one day you never came back from the jungle.

And it would be true.

One afternoon and evening, a good dinner, a sleep you’d yearned for thinking it was the jet lag, and then you’d awoken screaming as the first strip of wax had been ripped from your skin to discover you were naked with a half dozen people attending to all aspects of your grooming, preparing you to be their human sacrifice for the beast that lived in the jungle.

You were past the crying and pleading.

The no WIFI had been a lie, too.

Everyone in this small village looked and acted like they lived in the present day except for this one thing.

The belief that if they did not provide the beast his human sacrifice that they would not survive his terror.

“Then why don’t you just leave?” you had implored.

“This is our home, our loved ones are here, our ancestors are part of this place, and,” their leader and the head of the research foundation paused – almost faltered before continuing to explain, “the sacrifice of one stranger will guarantee us safety for many, many years.”

Everyone else had been instructed not to speak or listen to you from that point on in the preparations.

Nails trimmed, buffed, shined. Luxurious oil that smelled delicate and heavenly rubbed over every inch of your skin from the neck down. Hair partially braided to stay out of your face with the rest left natural. Color applied to your lips. They didn’t bother with eye makeup. No jewelry.

You had been wrapped up in a linen garment that was not quite a robe but not quite a coat to be transported to the ruins of an old stone dais in the thick of the jungle but deprived of it and then pushed onto the sacrificial area, left only in the sapphire silk of a bra and panties delicately lined with lace.

After hours being poked, prodded, and prepared by strangers in a strange land in a state of dread and disbelief, you thought you were numb.

You had endured too much to think you were hallucinating, but that you now all waited illuminated by literal torches with fire made this seem almost like a season of Survivor gone horribly wrong.

But then you heard the hushed wave of whispers at the rustle and rumble of something approaching through the thick vegetation of the jungle and adrenaline shot through your veins. It didn’t inspire fight or flight. You were frozen, fixated on the beast that would finally appear and seal your fate any moment now.

It made no attempt at arriving quietly, and when it finally appeared, there were collective gasps and cries from the people gathered to watch the sacrifice, though no sound fell from your lips.

The reaction was more than warranted, and a whisper of a thought flashed through your head that you were surprised no one had screamed. Maybe they were too terrified to scream, worried they would draw the beast’s attention. You wanted to scream, but your chest was gripped in fear.

The thick, furry legs of a bull, down to the cloven hooves, and a girthy tail with a tuft of dark hair at the end, swishing slightly as he walked. There was a loincloth tied at his waist that – rather than providing modesty – inspired anyone whose gaze lingered there to imagine the bulge nudging conspicuously beneath. Not that anyone’s gaze would linger there for long, for the rest of him was altogether imposing. Only the tallest of the villagers might hope to measure up to the base of his sternum – the sternum that anchored the torso of a man with shoulders more than twice the width of a human. Skin golden from the sun stretched over muscles that burst and rippled over his chest and shoulders, extending down his arms. You could see a litany of angry scars littered up and down his left arm.

Great bull’s horns rose and curled out of his head, possibly longer than your own arms. He had a mane of long, glossy but mostly unruly brown hair, with a couple of braids, that fell past his shoulders. Though the rest of his physique inspired fear, the true terror was perhaps the face of this man beast – it was terrifyingly handsome. Strong jaw, stubbled beard, a crease between his brows, and piercing blue eyes. His expression was drawn into an ominous grin.

He was in no rush as he walked into the ring of the villagers.

“Weapons down,” he growled.

There was almost no hesitation – their purpose had been to keep you in place anyway. Though the fear in the air was palpable, the tone of it seemed to be turning to some sort of reverent fear now for everyone else.

What inspired this unquestioned obedience from an entire people? People you’d seen with smart phones as abundantly among them as any other place on earth, though you’d been advised to shut yours down and leave it behind since it would be of next to no use to you in the jungle. They were right – but had left out the true reason and made it even more believable for you to seem only cut off to those back home, not lost and gone forever.

His enormous legs took the step easily up onto the dais, and his eyes were now fixed only on you. He stopped at the foot of the altar where you were presented for him.

“Well done,” this was meant for the people and their leader.

Then he reached out and the fingers of his large hands traced the strap over your left shoulder, then along your jaw, tilting your chin to look straight up at him. “And your choice is set?”

“My – my choice?” your voice cracked, but you felt it was a miracle you even found it.

Your confusion must have been evident, as his eyes flashed with anger and her rounded on the man who had facilitated all of this. “You did not tell her anything, did you?”

“I thought it best if –“

“It is not your job to think. The thoughtlessness of your people is why we’re here at all,” he snarled. Then he turned back to you.

“No time for stories now. I’m a minotaur called Bucky; a lost soldier cursed long ago to this state. Suffice it to say II must be satiated or the village will be subjected to bloodshed and desolation in the face of my wrath. They’ve chosen you, but you can choose your fate: fuck or die. I’ll take your throat, or I’ll cut it and drink your blood in front of everyone.”

Your chest heaved in trepidation. “How is that a choice?”

“Is it not clear to you?”

“Have others chosen death?”

He nodded. “Or they refused to choose.”

You opened your mouth then closed it again.

“Do you wish to die?”

You thought your tears were spent, but you could feel them welling in your eyes. “No.”

“Then claim your choice.”

You took a shaky breath.

“Say it!” he barked.

You flinched, but managed to spit out, “Fuck.”

“Perfect. Open up.”

“In front of everyone?” your voice was barely above a whisper.

He nodded. “They will remember and mark this sacrifice. It will be the reason they continue to breathe.”

You spread your knees a part so you were still kneeling and sitting back on your heels but his to take like this.

“That’s nice but not what I meant.” He tugged his loincloth and dropped it to the ground. You whimpered, afraid of the enormous size of his cock and ashamed at the lick of heat that flared in your core at the sight of him. He leaned down closer, put a hand at the back of your neck, and slapped the side of your face with his rigid length. “You are nothing but a toy for me to fuck, little lamb. Now open your mouth for me, or I will break your jaw opening it myself.”

This drew a handful of muted gasps from the onlookers. You saw a spark of something new in his eyes at this reaction.

He was pleased at their reaction.

You dropped your mouth open for him, nervous knowing you could not take all of him, embarrassed to be on such display in front of these strangers, but wanting to please him.

Wait, you thought, wanting to please him?

He shoved his cock into your wet mouth, shoving any other thoughts immediately out.

“Suck.”

You did.

“Just like that,” he said. The hand on your neck moved up to cradle and command the back of your head. He slowly began to fuck your mouth but with only a small motion, encouraging you to continue sucking just that first bit of cock as it was in your mouth. He still was in no rush. It felt like a power play – not wanting to show impatience or lack of restraint in the onset of this sacrificial claiming.

As he continued to speak now, his voice was low, intended for you. “Get ready for more.”

You looked up at him and tried to nod your head ever so slightly. He smirked, then he brought his other hand up under your jaw and to your throat, wanting to feel himself using you. He groaned and briefly closed his eyes. His tip hit the back of your mouth, and you spluttered. He pulled out slightly, giving you half a moment to recover, then forced the point again, holding himself there while you adjusted. He opened his eyes again, locking back onto yours, and a thrill of terror shot through you again. That was only the preliminary.

Now he would truly begin.

That look was all you got. Keeping the one hand at your throat, the provided the anchor to begin truly fucking your throat, not in a rush, but he picked up the pace. You placed your hands on his thighs to steady yourself. Your muscles initially gagged in protest, but he persisted, stroking your throat with his fingers as well, coaxing you to relax. Tears spilled down your cheeks. You concentrated on breathing through your nose and the steady gaze he kept trained on you. Soon you were taking more of him than you thought you could. He quickened his thrusts into your mouth. Your fingers stretched into the fur on his hips, mewling as he continued to use your mouth.

A few short grunts with the last thrusts were the only hint before he came, shooting his hot spend in your mouth with an unrestrained howl that shook the crowd to their core. There was no way for you to swallow everything, but, if anything, seeing his cum spilling down your chin made him grin.

Then he raised his head to address the villagers. “Remember that you gave this human to me. I will do with her as I please, and you will never see her again. Hope that you never see me again in your lifetime,” his voice carried, his power unquestioned in the clearing. “If you are lucky, the children you left home today will not see me in their lifetimes either. All of you go now. What happens next is not for your eyes.”

They followed his instructions without hesitation, all of them eager to be gone from this cursed place and their collective and ignored shame.

They left the torches – no desire for a souvenir.

And now you were alone with him, the light of the flames flickering over every inch of your exposed skin – which was almost all your skin, the lingerie only for show.

With the hand that was still anchored at the back of your head, he roughly angled you up sharply to look directly up at him, and tipping his own head forward he loomed in all his height above you, a truly searing heat in this look. “I meant what I said: you are mine, and I will never allow those vile villagers to see you again. You’re mine to do with as I please.”

He stooped down to claim your mouth in a kiss. His large thumb brushed the remaining spend from your chin and then moved down your throat to brush it over your collar bone, rubbing it in. He pushed his tongue between your lips, and you opened your mouth for him again. His tongue was too big for your mouth, too, but the more he subjected your body to the largeness of his being, the more you seemed to seep into him. He used his tongue to wrap around and tangle with yours, stroking it with his, now and then slipping it further down your throat, teasing, choking, mimicking the actions of his cock not long before.

When you were truly gasping, he chuckled darkly and pulled away, you leaned forward, lips chasing his, and then you shook your head, trying to restore some logic.

Failing.

Bucky easily tore away your bra with his brute strength. “Lay back for me, lamb.”

You shifted, legs aching from resting on them in that kneeling position for far too long. He noted the care you took in moving your limbs and rubbed the muscles up and down a few times. Then he pulled your hips to the end of the alter, flush against his cock, which was already semi-hard again. You hummed as he pushed against your still-clothed core.

His hands moved from your thighs up your sides, stoking the desire surging through your body, moving up your waist, thumbs brushing up against the underswell of your breasts, then flicking over the nipples, bringing them to little peaks before diving down to lave one of them with his tongue and suck, rolling, twisting, and pinching the other with his hand. Then he moved his mouth, and as he latched on to the other nipple, his hands worked the lace and silk panties off your hips and down your legs before tossing them away. He rutted up against you again, slow but persistent pressure against your core again, but now with no barrier he felt your arousal slicking up your entrance. When you began working your hips against him, seeking more friction, fisting your hands into his hair, he moved a hand between your legs, stroking over your labia and pushing one of his fingers right into your cunt, making you keen immediately from the force and fullness.

“Going to ruin you, lamb, but don’t want to hurt you.” He was brutal, but only because he was a monster by nature, not because he was heartless. “Gotta work your tiny pussy open so you can take me like you were meant to.”

As before, he was patient, making up for the impatience mounting inside you as he worked his fingers into you, circling, questing, stretching, twisting. When he pushed three fingers in he could tell it was a lot, but he knew he needed you to easily receive four if he was going to get to fuck you on his cock the way he wanted. All through it, he was relentless in overwhelming you in other ways, continuing to worship your breasts, but also murmuring praises against your skin, and threatening and promising filthy things that you couldn’t even respond to.

When you were thoroughly primed, aching for him, a mess with tears and begging for him, he finally realigned his hips between your legs, forcing your thighs wide to accommodate him. He bumped the head of his cock against your throbbing clit a couple of times, making your whimper repeatedly. You were lost as you lay splayed out above him, eyes tightly shut, hands reaching for him, desperately pleading his name over and over. He bent down to you again, relishing the feel of your breasts brushing against his chest for one more moment before sinking his cock into your cunt with a brutal thrust, pushing clear to the hilt, making you scream. It was wicked, and he knew it, but also knew how much he had worked up your body and your mind, and he was rewarded as you arched beneath him, and wrapped your arms around his neck, adjusted your hips, and then rocked against him, clearly seeking more.

Holding you at the precipice of pleasure for so long meant you crashed into your first orgasm very quickly as he pushed his cock in and out of your, “tight heat, little lamb, taking me so well,” he cooed. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, shuddering as he fucked your through it, groaning at the feel of your walls around him. “No one else will ever have this cunt now,” he vowed. “You’re mine.”

“Mine,” you echoed without thinking, not knowing it was exactly how he wanted his pet to feel about him. He pushed you over the edge into another orgasm and then spilled his hot seed inside you not long after. You were beyond spent, at that point, and less than a minute after he scooped you up, tucking your legs around his waist, you dropped out of consciousness, and went totally limp. He kissed the top of your head, then shifted you to sling you over his shoulder for the trek to his lair – your home. He’d secure you there, then go back to the get the wooden crate of the belongings you had shipped ahead of you and the bag you had traveled with – both were supposed to be deposited and waiting in a cave, the final part of his negotiations for acquiring his new human from that village and their foolish leader. Humans were delicate creatures with peculiar needs, after all, and he was determined to keep you content and fucked out until you were devoted to staying with him until the end of your days.

But the last hour had exceeded even his own expectations. He suspected he wouldn’t have to try very hard to keep his little lamb.

NEXT PART: Do You Remember

"haunting thoughts" on Sacrificial for the Dark Forest Fest

brief insight into what reader's life is like now

physical appearance of Minotaur!Bucky

easy and challenging parts of writing the fic

the writing of the story from concept to completion in one night

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[syoddeye]

ill-advised

simon x f! reader | 1165 words cw: simon being a gross creep, terrible advice, slimy internet culture, bad usernames, unsolicited nudes a/n: wrote this silly thing on my phone. lightly edited. been thinking about how simon would be the world's worst agony uncle. enjoy a few easter eggs.

Simon doesn’t have a God complex. No. He leaves that to the Simulation 5 streamers who build complicated dungeons beneath their character’s cottages, forcing others to labor on paintings or crochet projects to sell and support their captor’s livelihood. Not that he…watches those. No, no. He’s simply seen more than his fair share of depravity. Some of it at his expense, some at others, and more than a chunk of it dealt by his own two hands. He knows how the world works. How people work. He knows his shit, plain and simple.

So when his schedule allows, he logs on after midnight. His username and password are two alphanumeric strings, but people recognize the cluster of digits and letters. Wait for his comments. Follow his account. Send him stupid digital gifts, some useless currency to dress up his default icon. The amount increases daily, as does his following. His own little cult.

He doesn’t care about the numbers. Not really. He just loves dishing out his honest opinion, and nobody’s safe.

AN [Advice Needed] Family forgot to invite me on a trip, expect me to go last minute Hi, it’s like the title says. I (25 M) live across the country from my parents, siblings (all all adults), nieces, and nephews. I am the only one who lives on this coast, but I try to visit twice a year. I recently reached out to my brother to see when he thinks I should come visit in June and suggested some dates. I know it’s only February, but I want to save money on airfare. He responded: “Isn’t that when we’re going to Hawaii???” It was the first I heard of it. It turns out my parents invited my siblings to Hawaii and planned a family vacation without me. I confronted my parents about it, they swore they invited me too then said I could send them my share of the bill for the resort and book a flight. Like it’s no big deal. I can’t afford to go and I don’t want to go, but I feel really pressured. And sad! They forgot me! Who am I, Kevin McAllister?

> 35J0G39GH6: Find out the resort name. Cancel the reservations. Cease contact.

Within seconds, a dozen upvotes. A minute later, a hundred. Up, up, up. And the replies? Oh, the replies. He smirks at the cracked phone screen.

>> michaelEthelcaine: Fucking brutal as always >> c0y0t3fug1y: LMAO it’s this simple OP - this dude is never wrong >> patcemetery79: I DID THIS BACK IN 2003 FOR A FAMILY REUNION. A REAL RIOT! HAVEN’T BEEN INVITED TO ONE SINCE@ HILARIOUS!!!!!! I LOVE YOU 35J

Simon receives a fair share of downvotes, too. Negative comments. He doesn’t give a shit, but some of them are fucking hilarious.

>> grasshopperwhirlpool: Not funny. Be better than this asshole, OP. I’m sure it was a simple mistake. >> thewildrumpussy: really mature advice. who shit in your coffee?

Every few weeks, a morally righteous do-gooder encourages people to mass-report him, and he gets a slap on the wrist. The idiots come out in droves after some of his more choice replies, like worms after a heavy rain. The most recent offense?

AN [Advice Needed] My husband (35 M) forgot my (33 F) birthday My husband of three years forgot my birthday. No flowers, cake, or gifts. When I came home from work he asked about dinner. I lost it, turned around, and left. I’m at my sister’s house now (and she started baking when I called and told her what happened!) but he won’t stop blowing up my phone. He says it’s because he’s been so busy but here’s the thing: he forgot last year too. I really love him but I’m tired of this treatment.

> 35J0G39GH6: Have your friend take you home between 3-4 AM. Cut his brake lines. Go back to her place. Wait for the inevitable.

>> 6polyesterbutthole9: i dont care if this is illegal its funny af >> passtheaggression: Hand to god, you need your own forum dude.  >> gordonramsme55: Where are the mods on this??? This shit is going to get someone killed. Report this psycho. >>> puffalo: Agreed I think this breaks Rules 3 & 5, reporting now >> austrianPrincess: not saying i did this but when my boyfriend’s brakes failed, i got a big check, OP!  >>> gordonramsme55: This is what I’m talking about!  >>> 6polyesterbutthole9: get that check >> tech60nyneme: WOW someone check this guy’s crawlspace. reported and blocked

That one earns him the most severe ‘punishment’ yet: A month-long commenting ban. No skin off his nose, he's deployed days later, anyway. If anything, the radio silence winds his followers up, their excitement a palpable thing when he gets out of forum jail. He rewards them with another series of blunt, to-the-point pieces of advice. 

His absence makes one particular fan particularly hungry, and a little desperate.

He’s no stranger to unsolicited dick and cleavage pics from his followers. They flood his inbox, giving him a side hobby of delivering pithy degradation the sick fucks seem to love. Saves the best for his private collection. 

But then he gets a picture from some cute thing with a comment about him being her favorite person on the Internet. Knelt all sweet in front of her mirror, haloed by a ring light, white lace barely hiding the goods. His eyes snap to her tits—where his ridiculous username is scrawled in sharpie. There’s nothing to critique except maybe the laundry in the background of the shot. Tugs his cock to it, then clicks her username to check her comment history, and wouldn’t you know. Her location is public on her profile. She’s a couple hours away from her idol and doesn’t even know it. 

>> 35J0G39GH6: Perfection. >> YN10282022: Oh my god, I didn’t think you’d reply. >> YN10282022: You know, a few months ago, you gave me good advice about my creepy boss. >> YN10282022: I posted about the stuff he’d say to me. >> YN10282022: It took some time, but I was able to record him. Sent it over to his wife on their anniversary. When he accused me, I told him HR was getting the next copy. >> YN10282022: I got a promotion and a raise, and sent the file anyway. >> 35J0G39GH6: Good girl. >> 35J0G39GH6: I’ll be in your neck of the woods in a week for work. >> YN10282022: Really?? I’d love to meet up! >> 35J0G39GH6: Probably shouldn’t. I’d advise you against meeting me. >> YN10282022: They do say you should never meet your heroes. :) >> 35J0G39GH6: Shouldn’t meet strangers off the Internet, either.

She still sends him the address of a cafe. It matches one he finds on her social media an hour later. She seems to be a frequent customer. Simon grins at his screen, the sole light source in his dark room. He taps back to her pretty picture.

She looks like an angel.

[r0entgen]

Every single day I come to this hellsite to confirm gringos see us as a fucking ideal. 30 million Venezuelans are nothing because the only valid Venezuelans are those who voted for Maduro, the rest of us are imperialist gusanos. Of course we should be worrying about what the US wants to do with our oil! It doesn't matter that people are disappearing, being detained, abused, killed, taken from their homes! After all they're just rich white elites. TRUE Venezuelans are starving because of US sanctions and hate the US.

I haven't slept in three fucking weeks. I can't work, I can't eat. I can't communicate with my parents because they lost electricity and their internet was cut off. Every single day I wake up to more news - videos of people being detained and beaten up on the streets. Someone died because they were assaulted in the protests after the elections. Maduro banned X. Maduro is threatening to ban WhatsApp. Dgcim officers are seizing airports. I'm constantly worried that we're gonna lose internet connection because I use the internet to work and what am I supposed to do if I can't work. I haven't left my home because I'm scared they'll take my phone and detain me for posting shit on the internet. I'm scared they'll do the same to my brother and I won't know because I can't communicate with him either. But all y'all can do is post a "draft" calling for more sanctions and say we're all imperialist fanboys and should apologize TO YOU? WE HAVE TO APOLOGIZE TO YOU?

I can't do this anymore. I feel like I'm losing it I'm genuinely losing it rn I don't even know what to do

[l1tw1ck]

Valentines Day

How yanderes spend their valentine's day with you

Bottom!FtM: Saiki, Diluc, Alex (Stardew Valley), Aizawa, Keishin Ukai, Pantalone x Top Masc Reader

↳ [Event]

General CW: Yandere, Mentions of Murder

Saiki

aphrodisiac

☆ His jealousy isn't too bad on normal days but on Valentine's Day? It's through the roof. God forbid anyone place a homemade chocolate on your desk, everyone would be able to feel his anger

☆ He'd open your locker and track down the sender of every gift inside. Let's just say, getting things done is easy when you have psychic powers

☆ He gets these irrational worries that you'll leave him one day, so a week or two before the 14th, he did some internet research

☆ Top ten ways to keep your partner, it read. It was a simple list but he had an idea to spice it up.

He prepared a candle lit dinner, your favorite foods on the table along with an inconspicuous glass of 'grape' juice. Half way through dinner, you lost it. You started breathing heavily and all you wanted to do was take the man across the table from you and fuck him.

Saiki erupted into verbal moans and whines, too fucked out to even think of using forced telepathy. Your hips snapped against his ass as his hair was wrapped around your fingers, threatening to rip it out. The best part about it was the way you were murmuring praises to him the whole time.

Diluc

daddy kink, squirting

☆ Diluc's pretty secure in the fact that you're never going to leave him, the bite marks on your body say enough to your admirers. No one dares to mess with the partner of Master Diluc. And if they do? They go missing for a few days before being pronounced dead.

☆ At first, most assumed Diluc would be the one who wears the pants in all his relationships but contrary to that belief, you have him wrapped around your finger. He's your little guard dog and you know full well of what he does at night

☆ Of course Diluc wanted to do something special for you on the 14th, so he got himself two stamina potions from Albedo. Why not spend the day getting his brains fucked out?

Diluc, on all fours, rolls his eyes back, coming on your cock for the nth time. He would be a moaning mess if it weren't for the three thick fingers occupying his mouth. Your free hand pulling on his red hair and forcing his head back, you wish you were in front of mirror so you could see how fucked out he looks.

You slide your fingers out of his mouth, bringing your slick hand to spank his ass. He chokes out a gasp, a high pitched "Daddy~!" leaving his mouth before he squirts. You whisper degrading words into his ear while fucking him through his orgasm and finally overstimulating him, the stamina potion seemed to have worn off for him as his words convert into babbles and sobs.

Alex

☆ You'd been busy all Fall to prepare for Winter, leaving him to his own devices. You promised he'd have you all to himself by the 10th of Winter. He spent the time away from you secretly tormenting the men in town and keeping them far away from your farm. Other times he'd visit you on the farm, watching from afar as you got your farm cleaned up and ready for the cold. He loves when you're all sweaty and tired, it'd make him ache in his pants

☆ Due to some complications and extra tasks given to you by the Mayor, you took a little longer to get your long awaited vacation. Which happened to start on Valentine's Day, a holiday you introduced in the first year you came.

☆ Alex decided to come by that day and finally take you for himself. You didn't know it at first, but you were going to have a long few days

Alex bounced on your cock vigorously despite having come twice already, he missed you so much that he couldn't stop riding you. He just wanted to be in your warmth for as long as possible, you couldn't blame him.

You were too exhausted from working your ass off for a month and a half that Alex took over and fucked himself on your spent dick for hours. The only reason you stayed hard was because of how pretty he looks when he's pleasing himself, you can't be upset with such a pretty face.

Aizawa

consensual somnophilia, squirting, stockholm syndrome

☆ You've been living in Aizawa's house for years now, hidden from society, danger, and anyone who would try to pursue you.

☆ You're just so frail and weak to him, he can't bear to let you outside without his supervision. He just wants you to stay home like a good boy and be his cute little house husband

☆ It was hard at first, being isolated from the world thanks to someone you didn't even like romantically, but you got used to it. You're better with him than alone anyway

Aizawa stood over your sleeping body with a slight frown. It was Valentine's Day and he spent the whole school day thinking of you, he was going to have you whether you were awake or not. There wasn't much you could do regardless

He bounced on your fat length, using your body as if you're just a dildo. Touching his t-dick and squeezing your cock as he got closer and closer. You woke up just as he came, he squirted all over your abdomen and you couldn't help but come from that, spilling inside him raw.

Ukai

coach-player relationship, afab language used

☆ During practice, Coach Ukai would keep his eye on you and all those around you. He couldn't do much to those who were 'threats' but his sharp glare would get them to back away if they got too close

☆ When Valentine's Day came around, you received a lot of gifts. He'd thrown them all out before you could see them and it was all fine and dandy up until practice.

☆ Girls came to watch and cheer you on, screaming over you whenever you make a good play and even offering you water from their own bottles during breaks. Thanks to his jealousy, he ended practice early under the excuse of letting the team hang out with their dates. They bought it and hurried into the locker room.

☆ With a certain look from Ukai, you could tell that he wanted you to stay back. So you took more time in the locker room than everyone else, and when they left, Ukai entered.

After reassuring him that he's the only one for you, you spread his legs and stripped him from the waist down. You buried your head in between his legs, eating his pussy and letting him know how much you appreciated him over everyone else.

He had a smug grin on his face afterwards, knowing no one else will be able to experience the feeling of your tongue exploring their insides. You're his and his only.

Pantalone

kidnapping, non-con

☆ Pantalone is in love with you, and unbeknownst to you, you're also in love with him.

☆ You're not really friends with him either, he's merely your coworker. You go to him to apply for loans when you have an expensive project to work on, he always gives you the amount you need and more. He tells you not to worry about paying him back, that he loves to spoil you. It sent chills down your spine but you brushed it off, you need the money so you might as well deal with it

☆ Pantalone soon found out about the blind date you had scheduled for the 14th, feeling anger, sadness, and betrayal. How could you go on a date when you have a boyfriend? How dare you go out with some dumb broad who'll never love you the way he does?

☆ He offered to give you a ride home, since you take the train, and you reluctantly accepted. You wanted to get home early to get ready for your date. You didn't expect him to drug you though

You woke up on something soft, a bed, you realize. Your hands are chained to the bed and preventing you from moving. As you come to, you realize the room you're in is decorated with candles and flower petals of your favorite color. The last, yet most important thing, that you realize is that there's someone else in the room. You're not sure how you didn't feel or see it earlier but Pantalone is currently sucking you off, and seeing as there's small drops of cum beneath you, you've already come at least once before.

He looks up at you and reluctantly pulls away from your cock, grinning. "Happy Valentine's day, my love." He moves on top of you and sinks down onto your spent length. "Are you surprised?" He giggles.

[meraki-yao]

RWRB Movie Analysis: Henry's Seclusion and Perception-Part 1

“They used to call me the prince of England’s hearts, but now it feels like everyone hates me.”

“Hey, they still love you.”

“They love the idea of me. And now they are faced with the reality.”

These three lines stuck with me for some reason.

The time gap between the email leaks and Alex flying to London is significantly longer in the movie. In the book it was almost immediate, I think in the span of one or two days? But in the movie, it was a week.

In that week, Alex wasn't shielded away from media or news about the matter, seeing as he watched Miguel's interview on his laptop. We already know that his parents are ultimately incredibly supportive of both his sexuality and his relationship with Henry. The White House Staff, his team, are implied to be supportive as well, since I don't think the press conference and his speech was solely his effort, plus Zahra said she's proud of him. Him getting outted before he was ready was a terrible thing that happened to him, but amidst the chao and pain, he had a support system, and he wasn't limited to seeing a single side of the public's reaction.

Henry though? Henry and Bea, the only other person who supports him (I do think Shaan does care about and support Henry, but he's also a palace employee under orders), had all of their electronics, their tools to access the internet, outside information taken away from them. He was stuck with a brother who was endlessly berating him, a grandfather who was giving him the cold shoulder, and a neglectful, absent mother. Bea loves him, but when the rest of the family is crushing down on him there's only so much one person can do. Even in meetings, even if the situation is entirely about him, about his sexuality and relationship, he's not involved in discussions. There's a heartbreaking shot during Alex’s speech, where although he’s in the centre of the frame, although he's at the head of the table, the other people aren't facing him, they’re talking among themselves, not talking to him. And Henry looks like he desperately wants to be part of the conversation, but he can't cut in, and you can see his eyes drop and him giving up. I don't know if anyone has had that experience, of wanting to join in a discussion but constantly getting cut out or ignored, but I can tell you, it feels fucking awful.

So in that horrible, horrible week, Henry was forced into an information cocoon, where all the information he received was how bad this thing that was forced onto him was for the crown's image, how awful of a person he is for being gay and pursuing a relationship with Alex/ letting a “mad infatuation” ruin the image they made him create, and how others in the palace are dealing with this for him in a way he doesn't agree or have a say in. That's all he could see, and when that’s all you can see, it starts to feel like the definitive truth.

That's why it feels like everyone hates him. Because within the space he was confined in, save for Bea and Shaan, everyone did act like they hated him. No Alex, No Pez, No. Oscar, no public opinion. He was forbidden from seeing any support. That's why he feels so lost.

So when finally, he gets to see a sea of rainbow outside Buckingham Palace, he's so overwhelmingly glad and determined, as he realizes that he's still the Prince of England's heart, he is still loved by his people, perhaps even more so now, because he's one of them. He's their rainbow prince.

He's finally confident, as he takes his love's hand and steps out onto the balcony, greeted by howling cheers and applause, an ocean of support that he didn't get to see before, but was always there.

Alex was right all along.

"They still love you."

[werezmastarbucks]

kevin khatchadourian x female reader timeline of relationship pt 2

first part

warnings: mutual abuse, mentions of school shooting, folie a deux, mentions of stalking, mentions of suicidal thoughts, self-harm, living with trauma, otherwise it's fun! also, Kevin gets way more jail time while I'm captaining this ship

• Kevin got a reduced sentence, because at the time of the shooting he was just three days shy of sixteen

• that shows that he was calculating from the beginning to the end. Moreover, he calculated exactly how much time it would take him to fuck you, and he managed to do it even with some spare time left

• the headlines screamed of despair. You heard that Kevin had killed his father and his little sister - that angelic, innocent, happy girl, before going to school

• there were many times when you asked yourself why he spared you

• but there were now other things to think about. Like, how you were supposed to go on living now. Your own little grudge about that night at the party dissipated and became a minor failure even before the calendar year was out.

• you heard his mum sold the house and moved away on the outskirts of the city. She didn't leave the town though, because at first, Kevin was held at the local facility for minors.

• even you got your share of hatred, to say nothing about his mother.

• the police investigated you mildly, because you were the only survivor in the massacre. They quickly understood you hadn't conspired with Kevin. But people didn't care.

• very soon, you moved away and left the town, and school, behind you.

• five years of therapy, contemplation, heartache, spent with total lack of comprehension of what had transpired. Weeks turned into months as you went into a frenzy, sitting in your room, staring at the walls, trying to find your place in this story.

• you were recalling all of the moments you spent with him, one by one, trying to find the second he snapped. You remembered how you marveled at the beautiful stack of arrows on his wall. Just like Robin Hood's.

• five years of therapy, and self-reflexion. And then, when you were twenty years old, you decided to google his name for the first time in all that time.

• "I don't know why I did it: Kevin Khatchadourian, school shooter with a bow, has been transferred to the adult prison". An article from three years ago. There was a lot of news about him, a lot of pictures of Kevin. Him in his orange costume, hair cut short, and he looked like a disgraced puppy, lost. He was almost nothing without his magical poetic hair.

• one of the videos from court displayed him crying, hiding his face in his hands. You knew these tears were nothing but an act; just a thing everybody expected, or maybe, he wanted to try, and see if the reaction would be to his benefit.

• "The Robin Hood school shooter feels remorse, apologizes to families"

• there were even articles about you, though, in fewer numbers. Still, some theories that you helped Kevin to lock the hall; or that you were his sex toy that he had mercy on. As you went deeper on the internet, there were even accusations of satanism and demonology.

• through the news articles you watched Kevin grow. He turned seventeen, eighteen, then, his hair grew a little. Today, he was being fried in the adult prison. Very soon, there was another school shooting in the same state, so everybody forgot about Kevin Khatchadourian. Plus, he killed so few people; just seven. Weak. Reading this number, every time all these five years, you were taken aback. The whole ordeal felt like it lasted at least an hour. You were seeing everything in slow motion

• the truth was, every time you closed your eyes, for the longest time after, you started seeing Kevin's distorted face. As he grinned with hatred while he was killing your classmates. Little tiger cubs make that face when they learn to roar.

• the latest pictures of him were from the last year; he was a young man of twenty now. His black slick hair brushed back, bruises on his cheekbones. He was a broken man, the light dull in his eyes. Only in the corners of his mouth, there was the old Kevin. The Kevin who laughed at dumb people.

• sooner or later it was inevitable that you started asking yourself questions you couldn't answer. Could I have prevented it? To what degree has he been using me? Why did he spare me? Not like he cared about me? In his eyes, as he looked at me in the yard, there was nothing but resentment.

• you went to see him in prison, thinking about how you looked to someone who hadn't seen you in years. Thinking about your classmates who didn't get to be twenty, nineteen, throwing hats in the air, buying cars, traveling the world.

• all your unrequitted loving, and the dark undulgence, the sense of being the chosen one aside, you thought of those teenagers they used to be and stayed forever, and you wished to be in their place. Because then, you wouldn't have to see Kevin again.

• he looked worn out, but wild in a way, the same pitch-black hair, the same empty stare. Only, it became completely hollow now. His eyes only lit up for a secons when he saw you entering the room.

• you trembled with the realization that this person on front of you, behind the glass, killed seven people you knew, and was now smiling to you. A grown-up cougar. Unaffected, bored, like your coming was a matter-of-fact occurrence.

• his first question was what took you so long. He thought you'd run with lectures and commeuppances ages ago.

• his face sported a split eyebrow, there was a bruise on his forehead. His cheekbone was cut, it seemed, some time ago already, and a pink scar made his perfect fucking face asymmetrical.

• "Did you get beaten up?" you asked. He replied that he had got into a fight. His knuckles were torn to shreds almost, it was unpleasant to look at them; his skin was pale, pulled over his skull. Black circles around the eyes told you he didn't sleep well. He looked ever more like a vampire. The unpleasant kind, not like from the Vampire Diaries.

• he tried to ask you again, why you didn't visit him earlier. His mum was the only one, he said, who ever came, besides the lawyers and the journalists. You scoffed at it and left it without the answer. His eyes were palpating you, examining. His mouth slightly agape. He hasn't seen a woman, you thought, except his mother, for a very long time.

• "I came to ask you one question", you said, and Kevin made the face of annoyance. You went on anyway. "Why did you kill my friends?" He mocked you. Why did he do it. If only you knew how many people came here and sat in your place, and asked the same stupid question. Have you people no imagination nor consciousness to bore him with that? Like he knew. "Because I could", he spat out, "because I wanted to, and I had the means. Because I was annoyed with those people, and they made me irritated. What reasons do you want? I have no idea why I fucking did it; to piss you off? To make you spend five fucking selfish years thinking about why I fucking did it".

• you were not impressed. You didn't expect a fifteen year old narcissist to comprehend his own actions completely.

• "Why did you spare me then?" He shrugged.

• "Because you were nice to me".

• "I punched you in the face".

• he shrugged again like it didn't matter. But it did matter to him back then.

• you're like a robot, you said, you're not supposed to feel anything for a girl who you fucked and threw out like a sock with dry cum. You're a machine and you shouldn't feel anything. It irritated Kevin, this comparison with an inanimate object. Truth was, you were trying to get to his core, to hurt him as bad as you could, to see if he's still alive at all.

• "What's your point?" why didn't you kill me with the rest of them?

• he clutched the phone and rolled his eyes like you were asking the stupidest possible questions. His eyes then drifted down to your chest, where, propped against the glass, was your arm with an old, long scar from the razor.

• "Why, you have a death wish now?" he whispered. A familiar lustful smile was curling his lips. You noticed another scar on his lip, from someone's fist. It must be tough for the pretty boy here at prison. You wondered if the inmates were afraid of him.

• "I could organise it, you know". You realized he almost never, if ever, called you by your name. At all, as if it didn't exist. You wondered if he even knew your name at all.

• "You can't, you're in prison. You're a rat behind the glass. Do you understand, Kevin, that some of the parents of my dead friends, killed themselves years later?"

• he swayed his head with a question, like, what's he have to do with this information?

• "And", you panted now, "all because of one angry boy, and you're... it's the lack of grey matter in your brain poless, Kevin. You're a psychopath. And it's not good, do you understand, you're less than others. You're a little bit less of a human than the rest of us".

• finally, you saw the look of indignation on him. It was rage and disgust, but so quiet that his face just elongated, like a cat's. He was silent, burying you with his stare.

• "We all need one thing, Kevin. All of us. But you can't have it. It is inaccessible to you. That's why you did it".

• Kevin's nostrils were flaring. You put down the phone and stood up to leave. You could hear him scream through the glass. You caught him right by the balls. He was so smart, so, so intelligent unlike all these dumb people. But he couldn't guess what you meant. All these years he'd been searching for the answer, and it was just out of his reach.

• "What? What is it? What is it? What is it, Y/N?"

• he got fifteen years, actually. So, he was out when he was thirty. Still very young, all life to live. He pretended a lot in prison to get the appeal, but he was never granted it. Still, just fifteen years, and then he was out.

• you haven't seen him for ten years.

• the 8th of April was shifting further and further from you. Watching all the school shooting happening in the country was strange. Like almost each of them seemed a next chapter to you, like you were supposed to puzzle them all in, into one coherent picture. You changed jobs, you got in and out of relationships, none of which stuck. You didn't talk with your best friend from school, you drifted apart. You moved out and lived alone, acquiring lonely hobbies and observing people.

• the short visit to prison to see Kevin left a bleak impression of frustration. The memory of losing your virginity to him seemed like a minor failure still. You remembered that night very vividly, and now all of the time you were spending with him, was very clear to you.

• looking back, you saw the manipulation and hot and cold approach he practiced on you. You were something of a practice dummy for him. You could travel back in time and stand there next to yourself on the porch of someone's house and watch yourself kiss him for the first time. You could see him now, from a great angle, how he trapped you in his cobweb. How his eyes were never warm or loving, or even interested, but always calculating, measuring. He always looked at you, you realized, as if he was trying to guess your height for a coffin.

• you've never thought of the life 'after'. In your mind, the fifteen years of prison were eternal. You thought it was the period of time during which you would kill yourself

• you tried to learn everything about ASPD as if it could help you in anyway to deal with what had happened.

• the year when he got released, you only learned about it from the news.

• "Kevin Khatchadourian, the Robin Hood shooter, to be released this May". The article reminisced of the tragedy, and speculated on whether fifteen years have shaken Kevin enough for him to become a good boy. Kevin, it said, had gotten a pretty good rehabilitation back in the minor facility, and very rarely was in trouble at prison. He was an excellent inmate, obedient, friendly and very active at the workshops. He worked at the hospital wing and cared for other inmates. You wondered how many people he made die slowly and painfully, getting high on the power he had over them.

• not immediately did it shake you to reality: Kevin was now about to be free in two months. You tried not to stress about it too much. He didn't give a shit about you. Not then, not now. The therapy groups organized specifically for his victims and the families gathered that spring more often than usual. You weren't accepted there, weren't welcome. They couldn't forgive you for surviving.

• a week after his release you noticed Kevin on the other side of the street as you left for work in the morning. You didn't much care and ignored him. But the sight of him was something to think about. His hair was now long, almost to his shoulders. He was broad-shouldered, tall, and even from across the street you could see his warning eyes.

• you were careful not to get any pets or close friends. It wasn't a problem before, and it wasn't now.

• you cut yourself sometimes, and now started to do it more often - every time you caught yourself thinking, finally he's out.

• you've never gone to a proper doctor, only had therapy for five years, which you quit after visiting him in prison. It was all useless, you thought, because I still want him, and even more now. Everything that's happened to you shaped you into this creature of guilt and need.

• but also rage.

• he once held you by the throat and aimed an arrow at you, and since then, you barely felt fear, like someoned switched it off.

• Kevin came to your place. You tried to shut the door into his face, but he caught it. Close up, you could see his face, thin and pale with the lack of sun.

• he wanted to talk to you. Like adults.

• he said that no, you were never that special, but you actively chose him, again and again, and he was interested to find why. When it appeared so easy to make you have sex with him, he lost interest, but then, at the night of the massacre, for some reason, he just didn't feel like killing you

• you were nobody, to each other, he hasn't even thought about you the first five years, before you came to visit.

• then the thought of you became somewhat of obsession

• he probably idealized you

• you asked where he lived now, and he said that his mum bought a flat in the city and had a room for him. You called him pathetic. At first, he didn't react; he looked broken.

• but there was still the same sense of grandeur in him; you, a feeble creature, thought you could outpower him with only your fury and jealousy, indignation at what he'd done

• but, as Kevin once told you, the world was so unfair to little, pretty girls like you

• he threw you on the floor of your kitchen

• you laughed with relief, saying, "Finally! I thought just fifteen years of prison broke you like a dry twig".

• the look of recognition sparked in his eyes; he kneeled over you as if to say something, and you got his nose with your fist

• one would say it was a happy (in the most infernal way) reunion

• you fought, and laughed, and kicked each other, and kissed with the blood dripping heavily in between your mouths. Only there, in the isolated square of your apartment, you could finally confess to yourself that you didn't give a shit about anything; you haven't for some time.

• the blood was smeared on the floor, on the table, on the cupboards of the kitchen from how much you fought and punched each other

• he left you half dead, and redeemed, it felt

• he said that he'd return soon, and he expected you to be there waiting for him. He didn't want you to go to work or see anybody.

• you laughed at this suggestion and got up to tell him something to his face.

• he was in the bathroom, washing his face. The blood was dripping from his nose onto his t-shirt; he looked like a painting

• and paintings are objects you could own.

• you said "Make me"

• and his smile was almost happy; Kevin could only master so much, that it looked like a deranged grin. The time he spent on the bottom of helplessnes in prison, with nothing but his own self, changed the way he smiled. There was nothing behind his eyes when he smiled now.

• he promised he would go out and fuck whoever he wanted, and then return to you, smelling like other women, and there was nothing you could do about it

• you clenched your fists, but you were now so weak you could barely stand. Your whole body ached.

• he helped you shower and washed your hair, tugging on it, giving you instructions, like an idiot, expecting that he had the same control over you

• after work, you go straight home, you don't text with your parents, don't see your friends, every time you leave your house, you tell him where

• you laughed like crazy at these words.

• Kevin, Kevin. His name was like melody. The pain in your body, bruises, were the first thing you felt in a long time, and, coincidentally, they were connected with the feeling of elation you had now, that his hands were on your neck and your shoulders.

• you could fuck whoever you wanted, Kevin, but it would only happen one time, because if you do, I'll cut your balls off

• and to make him sure that you weren't bluffing, you tried to stab him with manicure scissors from the bathroom mirror.

• his reactions were fast, and he caught your hand inches from his face.

• as he looked down at you, sitting in your bathroom in the pool of pink blood, blood on your forehead, your eyes rolling, he thought about the time he finally started paying attention at school. The girl who loved frogs so much she couldn't look at dead ones. Weak-gutted.

• he now almost admired how deranged you have become. At the moment of epiphany he realized he was the one who made you like this. He was so, so happy. Or what he thought was happiness.

• you pulled on his collar, biting your lip, and put his face very close to yours

• "Don't fuck with me". He saw all the fun coming and he didn't have any desire to disobey.

• Look, what was that damn thing you were talking about when you visited?

• you watched his sculpted face and his sharp bones, the tilt of the head and the vampiric malevolence in his eyes. What was love anymore? Would it have made any difference, morally, if you two had met in normal circumstances, and, more importantly, if he was normal? Would you even have fallen for him if he was a good boy?

• this life was a vortex that became tighter and tighter every year. Next to your memories of school, was this confined bathroom, like you existed on all of the planes at the same time. You laughed at your own naive young self that was looking for excuses for Kevin. uwu, his mum didn't want him. He's too pretty to be that bad. He didn't need excuses, he was always the villain. The good people are never that striking, that vivid and suffocating.

• nevermind, Kevin, it doesn't matter. I didn't know what the fuck I was talking about.

[asoulwithadream]

Shoscombe Old Place / Part 2 - Sherlock & Co From the diary of ASoulWithADream…

I'm so excited that we're getting a three-parter after three-parter. They're brilliant and as the production quality increases exponentially, these drawn out adventures holding more content are so important to me.

Live Soul Reaction (my little on-the-spot commentary):

The episode sub-title just makes me think of Fast Car by Tracy Chapman. "🎵 You've got a fast car, I want a ticket to anywhere,"

John explaining the stupid social hierarchy, state-till-8's, the little 'I dunno's' of doubt, as if he still feels a bit confused or insecure about the whole situation with Carrie and him. The way he phrases it makes me think of superficiality.

"Like some big slobbery traitor!" I like how the roles have switched to Sherlock defending Archie from John.

Again with the card references!

Gary Lineker's mate. That's the second time HE's been mention. There's been an awful lot of emphasis on repeating motifs. Makes me wonder what else from last week's episode will feature today.

"You're invaluable, Watson!" "Awh." "Cheers!" <33333333

"Ah! Goodness! Hello Bob- UH, Robert Knob- Robert Norbertson! Ugh, spit it out, John."

"Just what she needs. Just… what she needs." Bobby you are not making yourself look more innocent you smoldering drama queen.

Sherlock swallowing a fly 😭

Lineker again!

Jump in the river. Jumping into a body of water. This is the third time. For fuck's sake.

"World's colliding. New friends, meeting old friends."

Who's calling John a twat on the internet???

Ash. Ash on the leaves, on the nettles, on the bark of the trees. Didn't Sherlock mention smoke? From the house, Shoscombe? Last week, he said it very explicitly. Smoke.

"It's a house for the dead." "A mausoleum." "Yes, a very tired one."

I SEE DEAD PEOPLE.

"Sherlock." "Yes, Watson." "Quick question." "Fire away!" "Are we… trapped? In a… four-hundred year old mausoleum?" "Trapped is a rather subjective term. We did CHOOSE to enter." "Sherlock." "Yes actually, I think we are."

Pick a tomb, mate! COS' I AM GOING TO KILL YOU >:(

"Brings a certain perspective, doesn't it? Being in here, with the long dead."

The way John realises that he's snapped just immediately forgives and dismisses Sherlock as the cause of their predicament really goes to show the bond they share, how they're able to adapt and just remain sane in their situation.

"What… feels like home?" "Baker Street." <3333333333333

"Rivers are just as doubtful, Watson. Just as unsure. They take the course they find easy, through the soft earth. That's why their paths are winding and splintered. They look for the easy way. Only the most determined bore through the hardest rock. Overtime, much, much time." More water, which could mean nothing. But seriously speaking, I love Sherlock's perspective on things, and how he reassures Watson with these beautiful metaphors, connecting their surroundings and the information he has consumed to describe his dear friend. <3

"Even the torrents that seem so wondrous to us will reach their end in a sea, a lake… a waterfall." HE SAID IT. Before I thought I was being delusional! Anything could be water, but the hesitation, the torrent he speaks of being a metaphor for both himself through John's perspective and the adventure that Moriarty will pose for them both, but especially for Sherlock Holmes!! I'm freaking out!!

"Shout out to Pro- ooh, Professor!" I AM DEAD. I HAVE TO PAUSE. IT CAN'T BE. WHAT I WAS JUST JOKING BEFORE. I'M BEING DELUSIONAL.

PROFESSOR JAMES MORIARTY.

JAMES MORIARTY.

MORIARTY.

WHO IS LISTENING INTENTLY, TO EVER WORD.

WHOEVER THAT ONE TUMBLR POSTER WAS WHO SAID "haha what if he got a shoutout" YOU WERE RIGHT. I'VE TRIED TO TAG YOU BUT I CAN'T FIND THE POST, BUT YOU WERE RIGHT. FUUUUUUUUUU-

"I can hear the corpses from the seventeenth century crying into the mic! I've lost my mind!" I doubt you're as much in shock as I am right now.

I was trying to appreciate their little pre-crypt banter and pep-talk, but I can not stop thinking about the ballistic missile which was the waterfall-shoutout section. Absolutely bonkers, and balls to the fucking walls. The balls are everywhere.

I better not see "42 - The Final Problem - Part One" on my Spotify on the 16th of July in the Year of our Lord 2024.

[piratefalls]

once again the number of fics on these lists has escaped containment.

list one. list two. list three. list four. list five. list six.

No Nut November by TuppingLiberty

The Super Six make a bet to see who can 'win' No Nut November. Alex is determined to win, but discovers something about his roommate Henry in the process. Aka, a simple college roommate au pwp grew some plot.

Feel your hands in my hair and you whisper my name by kiwiana

And, like, Alex is a smooth guy, okay? He’s charming and witty and has a killer smile. Generally speaking, he flirts well and it almost always works out for him. Even when it doesn’t, he usually ends up making a new friend. There’s all sorts of things he could say in response. ‘You could help me by letting me buy you a drink’, that’s a classic. Sometimes a well-placed cheesy pickup line about being distracted by someone’s beauty can break the ice. ‘No, but you can feel free to help yourself’ is a good one if the vibe is more hookup than date. These are all options he has. What actually comes out of his mouth is “Can I suck your dick?”

Henry's an Asshole (I Want to Kiss Him) by anarchyat4am

They hoist themselves up onto the counters, Alex on the island and Henry opposite him, tucked into the corner with his knees pulled to his chest. Henry can feel Alex watching him, but he’s not sure he wants to face whatever’s playing out in Alex’s expression. He gets through half of his ice cream before giving in and meeting Alex’s eyes, and he cannot for the life of him read what he sees in them. “Can I tell you a secret?” Alex says. Henry hums and lifts an eyebrow. “Is it a good one?” “Maybe?” Alex says. He pokes at his ice cream and eats another spoonful, looking carefully at Henry. “I was gonna kiss you at midnight.” * At the NYE Gala, Henry starts feeling the hazy edges of anxiety and an uncomfortable tightness in his chest. It takes him longer than it should to take notice of the feeling, and even longer to realise that the cause is likely the binder he’s been wearing all day. He escapes the party, Alex gets him upstairs to his room to change, and the rest of the night goes far differently than Henry could have expected.

Uncut not Uncultured by inexplicablymine

“Excuse me? Have I dealt with Uncircumcised Dick? Are you at a hookup or something right now and a little lost?” “Yes, have you dealt with uncircumcised dick, no I’m not at a hookup, I am having an existential crisis and I need support okay Liam!” Alex’s voice pitches up at the end showing that he really is worried about something to do with foreskin. __________________ One Trader Joe’s Pride themed phallic treat, one existential crisis with your ex and his current lover, one hot and steamy night to work it all out.

The Key to Home by MoonCheeseRavioli

Henry isn't like that at all. He's not cold and robotic, he's just nervous. He's just a boy. Maybe they can just be boys tonight. No fucking titles or parts to play. Just people in a room in a house, doing something for themselves for once.

You'll Be Glowing, Chasing Shadows Away by Mags (sparklepocalypse)

In the weeks leading up to Alex’s eighteenth birthday, he spends hours meticulously crafting a list of things that adults are legally permitted to do, and minors are not. It takes nearly twice as long to decide which items to sidebar, so he can narrow the list down to a manageable number. Finally, he’s left with four: 1. register to vote; 2. buy a lottery ticket; 3. get a tattoo; 4. go to the adult novelty shop. (Or, five times Alex tries something he's seen on the internet, and one time he involves Henry.)

The Better Part by dorian_burberrycanary

Henry has no reason to be in New York, no acceptable public excuse, just a three-day gap in his schedule and a boyfriend he hasn’t seen in six weeks. Six weeks and two days, his mind supplies. For a moment he considers blaming that knowledge on how the American election is an easy date to remember. Instead, he texts Alex: We’re apart for weeks but my body misses you in days, in minutes.

warm from the inside out by cricketnationrise

“Can I pull you away from what I’m sure is fascinating research for a bit of a break?” “Mmm, depends on what kind of break,” Alex teases. “Tax law is pretty captivating.” “I was thinking,” Henry begins slowly, smudging kisses from Alex’s shoulder and up his neck, “that the break could go something like this.”

(lord, save me) my drug is my baby by coffeecatsme

Henry isn’t home when Alex returns from his weeklong trip to his father’s lakehouse in Texas. There is, however, a bat hanging from their fan, wings curled around its little body, a drop of drool clinging to his lips. Sleeping. “Huh,” Alex says, tilting his head. “I didn’t know vampires could actually turn into bats.” Or, 5 times Alex learns something new about Henry and 1 time Henry learns something new about Alex.

Celebration by Anonymous

It’s foolish, to do this now instead of later when they have time, but Henry wants it too much to resist. He always wants, always. Henry and Alex celebrate the election victory.

So No One Told You Life Was Gonna Be This Way by DracoWillHearAboutThis

Alex froze in his tracks, the abrupt movement causing him to drop his freshly bought cup of coffee right onto his new white sneakers. At the sound, Pez and Bea both turned to stare at him, eyes wide and slightly panicked. “Please tell me you didn’t hear that,” Pez whispered, with a note of desperation in his voice. “What do you mean, Henry is in love with me?!” Alex asked, his own voice high-pitched. “Well,” Nora said, grinning as she leaned back in her own seat. “This should be interesting.”

A Long Way From the Playground by allmylovesatonce

Henry and Alex were best friends growing up until they went to separate colleges and they grew apart. When they see each other again as adults, against the odds, both living in the same city again, will it be a joyful reunion or will the pain of the years apart get in the way? How do you become friends again when there is so much of the past in the way?

and I see forever in your eyes by viciouslyqueer

“What went wrong, love?” Henry asks quietly, anxiety curling around him and weighing on his stomach at the thought of having hurt Alex in any way. To his surprise, Alex lets out a little laugh. “Nothing, actually.” Henry frowns. “But… you safeworded. Something was obviously wrong.” Alex stays silent for a few moments. He seems to hesitate before speaking. “I just… didn’t want you to open that drawer.” — A brief misunderstanding and a ruined surprise turn out better than expected.

Toe the Line by OrchidScript

Henry plays piano while Alex studies. Alex gets caught live-streaming. Henry has a response handy.

Tickling the Ivories by bleedingballroomfloor

"What is it, baby?" Alex asks with a lick of his lips, one hand squeezing Henry's thigh and the other cupping his face. Henry growls. "You know what it is, you wanker," he whispers. They're so close that their lips brush with each word they speak. "Now are you going to continue to tease me like the arse you are, or are you going to drag me to the bedroom and actually fuck me?" "The bedroom?" Alex chuckles, sliding up his hand to thread his fingers through Henry's hair. He moves his mouth to Henry's ear and says, "Remember when you wouldn't let me fuck you on that piano back in Kensington? Well, this one isn't an old antique, babe."

Teach Me, Teach Me, Teach Me (How to Love) by politics_and_prose

“The beauty of love is that you can fall into it with the most unexpected person at the most unexpected time.” - Ritu Ghatourey Henry expects the coming school year to be much the same as the previous ones. He couldn't be more wrong.

tiny pretty things by shinebackbaby

Having completely gotten lost in his thoughts, he must've been staring, because Nora's saying, "Earth to Henry. What are you staring at, babe? Would you like to try?" From the tone of her voice it's obvious she's mostly joking, but Henry, not knowing what's gotten into him, actually considers. He remembers wondering how it all feels. Sure, he's had concealer put on his dark circles about a million times, and blush on his cheeks to give his face just the slightest warmth instead of the pale and hollowed-out look he privately sported for many years after his father's passing. But it just never felt the same as the things they did to Bea, the things June and Nora are doing to themselves right now. He thinks. Wonders. Considers. And he nods. He nods his head and says, in a bit of a small voice, "Er. Yeah, actually. I'd like that, I think." Or in which Henry tries out makeup with the help of Nora and June, and Alex is positively in love with it.

First Time for Everything by Celaestis

“I love that you love it.” He moves, gesturing for Henry to sit, and then straddles Henry's lap. His smile is as sharp as a knife when he kisses Henry. “I love everything about it – the way you look, the noises you make. How fucking amazing you feel around me, sweetheart.” He grinds slowly against Henry as he talks. "I wanna feel that too."

In the teeth of strong opposition by clottedcreamfudge

"You know what?" Henry says loudly, annoyed beyond belief that he has to hear for the millionth time how fucking cool Alex is with Henry's sexuality. "If you're such a good ally, why don't you suck me off? Since you're so insistent, why not get on your knees, Alex?" He regrets the words as soon as he says them, but it's not like he can shove them back into his mouth; he can't take them back. He closes his eyes so he doesn't have to see the shocked expression on Alex's face and takes a few deep breaths. "Sorry," he says tightly a moment later, eyes still closed. "That was uncalled for." "Do you want me to?"

would you wait for me? by smc_27

Henry Fox has made Alex nervous from the second they met. Now it’s different. Now Alex has to try and find a shirt to wear to a party where he’ll inevitably see Henry for the first time in a year. For the first time since Alex’s heart was broken and he’d made what felt like the brave and smart decision and left. Coming back might be a mistake.

Little Matters by pridepages

Henry Fox never expected to have children. As the black—or rainbow—sheep of the family, he accepted that long ago. But tragedy takes the lives of his brother and sister-in-law. Suddenly, Henry finds himself the guardian of his precocious little niece, turning his life upside down! Alex Claremont-Diaz is just fine, thank you very much. Freshly graduated from NYU Law, he’s ready to kick off his career. One day, he runs into a handsome man with his little girl. Sometimes we have to find each other before we can find ourselves.

jump in with your heart first by stutteringpeach

Pez sets it up. Some guy from work, he says. Gorgeous, too smart for his own good, a mouth that will get him into trouble. Henry raises an eyebrow. “Whatever you’re thinking,” Pez sings, wearing a smirk, “the answer is yes.”

Who Will I Become Tonight? by athousandrooms, ifyoustay

Attending their ten-year high school reunion isn't among Henry's ideal weekend plans, but Alex makes a really strong case for them to go together and have some spiteful fun. The problem is, Henry's in love with his straight best friend, and Alex thinks it's a brilliant idea to fake date. Best laid plans, they say.

Love, Pyramus by SprigsofViolets

Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor has always been different, and he spends his life finding himself in the pages of a book, connecting with queer people through literature. “To every person in search of somewhere to belong who happened to pick up this book, I hope you found a place in here, even if just for a few pages. You are loved. I wrote this for you. Keep fighting, keep making history, keep looking after one another.” —Casey McQuiston; Red, White, and Royal Blue

five times alex and henry tried something kinky (and one time they didn't) by cmere

Alex knew Henry loved his stupid fucking dirty talk, but if he were pressed to admit it, he loved it too, especially knowing that they were doing something they very much weren't supposed to—and that even though it wouldn't be the same scandal it once was, it would still be a fucking shock to someone's delicate sensibilities and most likely get them in a lot of trouble. What Alex loved most was that Henry got off on this shit as much as he did, too. OR five times Alex and Henry tried something kinky, and one time they didn't

Stars and Stripes by lucy_in_the_sky

Alex and Henry’s Fourth of July celebrations ft. an oh-so patriotic pair of star spangled boxers.

Hope and Glory by everwitch

Any moment now, that door will open again and another man will enter, another stranger will bare himself and quietly slot himself into the hole in the wooden panel. And Henry will swallow him down, willingly, greedily. He will use his mouth and his tongue and both of his hands, and he will lose himself in every little sound, every low groan and trembling whimper, every sharp intake of breath. He will bring the stranger to the brink and then over it, will smile faintly as feels the man pulsing in between his hands, will brush a chaste kiss against the tip before he lets go. Henry joins an exclusive, members only sex club and lives out an impossible fantasy. Along the way, he forms a connection with an enigmatic lover.

Gay Panic Button by Void_senpai

In which Alex is Alex and Henry's little gay heart cannot survive his bullshit. Or Chapters from the book and offscreen scenes from Henry's POV

AirBnB My Baby by indomitablelove

Alex grips his hand on the poker again. “Who the fuck are you?” he asks through gritted, chattering teeth. “And why do you have a key?” His mind is spinning a thousand miles an hour. What if this guy is a former guest who had his own key cut? What if he’s been waiting to pounce after seeing Alex arrive alone? What if he actually was working with Shaan?  "Oh, fuck," he says. The word sounds different in his mouth, like it’s something new, crisp and barely used, not like it does coming from Alex’s mouth – well-worn, with an alarming frequency. Something seems to dawn on the man. Alex really, really wishes that he’d bring him up to speed. “Right,” he says, “yes. My name is Henry, this is… well, my house and I think I’ve monumentally cocked up.” -- After June and Nora's flight gets grounded in the snow, Alex ends up at the holiday cottage they booked alone. He gets an unexpected visitor in the night. Then they get snowed in together.

my little dove by dearestalez

“Kinda cliché,” Alex says, looking up at the mural. “It’s Bea’s favourite piece,” Henry says. Alex looks at him, “that makes sense.” They travel through a plethora of shops. Henry picks up a hat, Alex holds a jumper to his chest and twirls until Henry is giggling into his fingers. “Why do they never have my size?” Alex laments, holding a nice pair of shoes that don’t come in seven and a half. Only seven or eight. Henry doesn’t mean to laugh, he didn’t really think that was something he did. Laugh at people’s expense. But he isn’t doing that. Alex is pouting over a pair of shoes, with wide brown eyes and slumped shoulders, and Henry is laughing at the absurdity of it all. He never thought that the man across the building cradling a beer to his chest was the type to pout and whine when a shop didn’t carry his size. He never thought he’d find that out. He never thought that stranger from that bar would turn into someone he knows. “You’re a dick,” Alex says, but he’s grinning and Henry is weak.

Pump The Volume by absoluteaudacity

Zahra, sitting across the table from Alex, gives him a stony glare. “Aids?” she signs and he shakes his head obstinately. His hearing aids make his ears itch and he isn’t wearing them in his own house, even if that house is The White House.

you're leaving (now i'm left amongst the living) by peppermintpatties

Six years since they've been together, Alex and Henry were now a far cry from the lovestruck couple they once were when their history began. If you ask Alex, all of it was Henry’s fault. If you ask Henry, he’d agree and say that Alex was right. But before Alex could ever find out why Henry does not seem like the man he once decided to spend the rest of his life with, he already walked away from it all. Now, Henry was alone, left to deal with whatever shattered remains he could salvage from his life. Or, the one where Henry’s sick and Alex only finds out two years after they've broken up.

shaken, not stirred by annesbonny

It starts when Henry orders a vodka martini, shaken not stirred. Or, the one where Alex has a little bit of a Thing for Bond, and Henry, after a very small amount of convincing, indulges him.

Rome, By All Means by schmulte

After five years away from home, His Royal Highness Prince Henry is finally returning to Europe to embark on a royal tour. After a particularly rough night filled with anxiety and homesickness, Henry sneaks out of his hotel to explore Rome and winds up asleep on a park bench. He's taken in by Alex, the son of a former US president trying to lay low after too much time spent in the press, and spends the night on his couch. From there, Alex is determined to show Henry a good time for at least one day of freedom, and the two become unlikely friends, and maybe something more.

Aftercare by whimsymanaged

When Alex has an intense hookup without aftercare, he finds himself on his best friend Henry’s doorstep in desperate need of looking after.

you're so gorgeous (it actually hurts) by vibrantsaturn

He's planning on mindlessly scrolling through his timeline while he waits for Henry to join the red carpet, but he feels an amused huff leave him when he sees 'alex can you fight,' is trending. His lip quirks up as he clicks on the screen to see what all of this is about, and he feels his breath leave him instantly. What the fuck. So. Henry has made it to the red carpet. And he looks fucking ethereal. Shit, he can't believe he gets to marry this man. How is his life real? or, People are thirsting over Henry on Twitter, and you know what? Valid. Alex can fight.

love is blind(folded) by weather_stained

“Baby,” he says, “you know I love what you can do with your gorgeous mouth, but I don't think even you could make me concentrate long enough to actually come amidst all this." He waves his hand in the general direction of the street where it sounds like they're repeatedly putting pieces of concrete in a blender and then throwing the whole blender in the garbage disposal. "Hm." Henry cocks his head to the side, letting his messy morning hair flop in his eyes. He purses his lips. "I might have an idea. If you trust me." There's loud construction outside the brownstone, but Henry helps Alex escape the noise.

The Witching Hours by RadioFriday

Henry drowned today in the waters of Lake LBJ. Henry also drowned yesterday. Alex was there. He remembers. June is certain she is breaking some kind of witching law but can't bring herself to care. Death of the Endless is a good sport even though she's far too busy for this Groundhog Day bullshit.

until next week! if you want to be tagged in future lists, let me know!

[turtletaubwrites]

Turtletaub Blog, WIP, & Health Update

I wanted to put this out there so no one freaks out! My daily queue is going to run out in a few days. I initially used the queue for my adhd, so I wouldn’t spam you for three weeks and then forget to reblog things for months, and I didn’t tag it before since I was on here everyday. Now that it’s going to run out, I’ll be adding to it and I’ll tag it as #turtlequeb

Things have still been unfun over here lately, but I’m okay, and health things are hopefully looking up. There's a health/life update/ramble below the cut if you're interested.

Part 32 is almost done, and I’m going bonkers waiting for y’all to read it. The current life situations have taken up a lot of my free time and energy, but it’s soo close! 😭

I’m also working on a brief dossier for our suitors since I’ve done way too much research on these guys, and I know how hard it is to keep track of all of these characters in this giant One Piece world!

I miss y’all so much. I feel extra yucky that in my current struggles I’m having such a hard time focusing and connecting, especially since this community has helped me get through such difficult times. I’m really hoping that I can get back to the things I enjoy soon, especially interacting with my favorite internet fiends! 🥰

Health/life update below the cut: (cw health, mental health, medications, side effects, depression, bipolar disorder, doctors)

It’s wild just how much medication can help people.

Without the Lamictal that I took for three years, I have reverted into severe depression, and it has been debilitating.

It’s like I WAS an adult with full control (lol, mostly) over my mental and physical capacities, but now that I'm off the medication, I have reverted to a child, a preteen, a helpless human with no ability to regulate my own emotions, or even influence my own behaviors.

For the last three years, I was finally able to utilize my intellect, my experience, and my wisdom, while dealing with stressful situations.

Now I feel like I'm 13 again, lost, desperately clinging to distractions to keep from dying inside, from falling apart, or disappearing.

But it turns out that the whole reason for going off of the medication might have been avoided.

During these treasured three years of mental stability, I experienced symptoms that negatively impacted my physical, and mental health. I went to doctor after doctor for this unusual issue, only to be told that there was nothing to be done.

Until I finally got the referral to a specialist last week, and they immediately diagnosed the actual issue, and said that the other concern was false.

So all of this suffering could have been avoided if one of the 10+ primary care or ER doctors I've begged for help these last 3 years would have said "you know what, this is an unusual and persistent situation, why don't I refer you to a specialist," instead of "this condition you're describing is incurable, take these pills, there's nothing else we can do" (even though it is NOT NORMAL to have these issues consistently for 3 years).

The new specialist caught me dissociating after diagnosing the issue in under five minutes. When I asked about the new med they were prescribing, they apologized that I hadn't been given the opportunity to take it before.

I now have to wait 3 months on this (non psychiatric) med to see if those symptoms will be finally be helped, but now that means I have to/get to retry the mood stabilizer, or something else since Lithium, Concerta, and Hydroxyzine are clearly not enough to keep me functioning.

I fucking advocate for myself y'all, but I was misdiagnosed, and kept getting sent away in tears. Now I'm spacey, dissociated. Still too scared and hurt to hope that this new thing will help.

I'm tired.

All I want to do is write. I will literally take whatever pill lets me get back to my preferred writing schedule. Gimme.

I'm trying not to let guilt pile up about not connecting, about not being able to write like I could when I wasn't severely depressed. Logic brain and depresso brain don't mix though, and my pile of unanswered comments and unread fics here and on Ao3 have been making me sad.

But it's just because I love this lil world, and I WANT to be here. I plan to try Lamictal again, or something else in about a month since I want to give the new med some time to observe any side effects.

For now, my mood stabilizer of choice is endless reaction videos of therapists and rappers reacting to Hi Ren, The Hunger, and Chalk Outlines. Ren's music fucking gets into me when nothing else can, and I'm trying TRYING to remember the lines that sit me down when I start to spiral.

It's helping me write to see him use his pain and trauma to create absolute beauty.

This is a giant ramble, but one more thing, I swear!

When I began writing for our Numbers Girl, and even when we got into her backstory, and trauma things started coming up, I didn't think about it like this. Since I've been diagnosed and medicated for 3 years, my ability to manage most of my psychological symptoms felt amazing. Those conditions went from being disabling to manageable and it was freeing. Writing about dissociation and trauma was easy because I know it all too well, it was satisfying because I wish I had found media to relate to when I was deep in it, and it was healing, because I was on the other side of it.

Now I'm back there. I did not mean to write a reader character dealing with mental health trauma while in the middle of it myself.

Hopefully I can hop back on some meds in a few weeks, and have the physical and mental symptoms I've been struggling with ease up.

I'm a trying.

It just made me sad laugh a couple of times while writing our Numbers Girl going through it recently, because I am now right there with her instead of reaching my hand down the deep, dark hole to help her climb into the light.

But we'll get through it together, and having such wonderful, supportive people cheering on my healing and writing is incredible. I can't begin to describe how grateful I am to all of you, and how excited I am to get back into this amazing community.

Just gotta go easy. Soften. Relax.

Thank you for reading 🙏🏼

Lynna 💜✨

[hryniewiecki]

sorry to ramble, but something I've been waiting for for three years is only a week away? and I need to say something

didn't expect anything like it from a league of legends show (in fact I had to watch it twice, because the first time I put it on just to have something to eat soup to and didn't pay much attention), but it ended up being the first thing to help me resurface a bit from six years of anhedonia and I can't express how good it felt to be interested and engaged in something again after so much time; I was a bit ashamed of it at first (even though I wasn't sharing it with anyone), but then I started mercilessly using this "obsession" to trick me into making some art again (with varying results) and try to put myself out there on the internet just a tiny bit

it also aired when I was going through what I thought was the most difficult time of my life (turns out the following years brought moments even worse), and having to wait three years then felt so impossible I didn't even consider it - and it's even more surreal now, when it's just behind the corner, because I somehow made it to this point

can't wrap my head around it, but my eyes are ready to experience the beauty again, because (having watched the Ambessa wideo) I think fortiche somehow managed to step up their game

have a day and try not to cry over the overpriced and/or inaccessible merch (fuck riot) (I almost lost it with the dice, but luckily the rest is not even close to being as good) ..wait a minute, can we talk about how they made a show centered around social injustice and then the merch is.. ahh whatever, rich get richer while the poor make stuff out of scraps and cardboard again