#man. i feel bad for being inactive

[dunmertwink]

.

[camelspit]

grrr hate art

[happy10thousandyears]

I feel like spending so much time thinking about 🪞 kinda made me immune to any disturbing media content (if it’s not visual). Like no matter the trauma depicted I’ve already spent enough time thinking about the marks it leaves on characters it’s like . Okay it can’t be worse than 🪞

[hwathinker]

"come on baby, show me what you got."

pairings ; soft dom!bf!wooyoung x fem!reader warnings ; pussy licking (kitten licks oh my god.), squirting, woo is a tease lol, getting called baby by woo is just,, so hot, just.. short smut because he's been wrecking these days smh.. wn ; sorry i've been so inactive lately, i got caught up with work. making those $$$ yk to buy those sweet albums waiting for me ;p (requests are open but it'll take time T_T)

"wooyoungie.." whimpers. "stop.. need you inside me right now.." whimpers. again. wooyoung, who's head buried to your wet cunt constantly leaving small giggles and heavy breathings to your core which makes you even more wet. giving you head as much, denying your orgasms for like.. two times now, going to three. "oh, baby you taste so sweet." he said as he stuffs his fingers into your tight pussy, still sucking on your clit. "ah, youngie.. please..? i need to cum, please.." you bit your lip, wanting to come on his face since he didn't want to give his dick. oh, his dick? he's grinding so hard on the mattress, though he's leaking out of his sweats right now, he can't stop sucking on your sweet little cunt.

"baby, be patient alright..? i thought you were a good girl hm? why are you forcing me to fuck you while i'm not even done with my meal?" wooyoung slid his fingers in between your folds as he listens to your soft quiet moans. "mmh, i'd love to hear those more but louder." he said, pushing his fingers deep inside you, making you moan loudly. "music to my ears, baby." he quicken his pace, eyes watching your expressions and listening to your cute moans. "don't you want this so bad, hm? come on baby, show me what you got." the squelching sounds of his wet fingers and your cunt makes you go crazy. without his big cock, you would still manage to cum, even if it means by him eye-fucking you. "youngie.. ah, wanna cum.." your moans mixing with you heavy breathings, as you grips on his hair.

"i know baby. i wanna see your pretty little pussy wet so that i can taste it." his never ending praises just makes you so high. rolling your eyes back, you released on his slender fingers, along with your squirts going up his abs to his chin. he flinched, but gave you a teasing smile and licked it off as he's satisfied that he made you feel pleasured. he licked the remaining of your cum on his fingers clean, going back down to your heated wet cunt once again. "hold on tight doll." he said, gripping on your thighs to not let you squish his head while he suck off every cum you released. you whined at the contact between his tongue and your clit, being sensitive after.

after wooyoung was done, he wipes his lips with the back of his hand, eyes still glued to you. he saw that your eyes was glistening with tears. he went to wipe them, kissing your cheeks as he whispers, "baby, we're not done yet you know that right?" well, you guessed his dick really need to be pleasured too afterall.

-

the daddiest amongst all, jung wooyoung i need his cock so bad man wth </3 anyways um?!?!?!? i hope you did like this one since its............ the laziest out of all. but ok !! leave some wooyoung reqs cus i'm hungry for him fr

[melancholyhigh]

sooo... i just read your "sunrise" fic and i'm obsessed. the plot was great and the way you narrated the feelings and the setting??? i'm in love. i live for your subby!leon. i don't know if you're taking requests right now but i would love to read more about him:)

MIDDAY.

ft. brother’s best friend!leon x afab!reader

synopsis. your mom thinks leon is a bad influence on your brother, but only if she knew how much of a good boy he is.

content. 0.6k words. smut. subby leon, handjob, begging, praise kink, thigh riding (?), edging, marking, sneaking around.

note. ty for the requests anon !! <33 it’s basically a 1.5 to sunrise. sorry for being so inactive :( tryna get through some requests <3 lmk if u guys would like a full sequel to sunrise tho!!

masterlist. reblogs & comments are appreciated :3

You couldn’t fathom how your mother could dislike Leon. He was one of your brother’s friends who didn’t actively try to be a nuisance to your neighbourhood, and it was shocking when they even became acquaintances – let alone best friends. 

She says he’s a bad influence on your brother, but he’s the kindest boy ever met. You must be biased because you think he’s a very good boy. He’s especially good when he’s beneath you, his blue eyes brimmed with tears, begging you to let him come, but, oh, doesn’t your perfect boy have such nice manners?

“Please, please, please, ‘m so close,” he’s sobbing as you continue to move your hand up and down his throbbing cock. Your digits are stained with tacky precum, thumbing the sensitive head. He was so gorgeous, rosy cheeks stained with tears, and his lips all swollen and slick with spit.

You told him a few minutes ago to quiet down — you’ll get caught, but he continues to whine and plead. You're beginning to think he wants to be seen at your mercy, crying for you. His soft whimpers and quiet moans get you aroused, soaking through your shorts, and Leon can feel you on his thighs where you’ve made yourself comfortable. It drove him mad when you rut against him, trying to soothe the ache between your legs that he caused.

He wants nothing more than for you to strip down and sit on his face for him to lap at your cunt like a starved man. Instead, you are entranced with him, admiring the cute expressions he makes when you give his dick a firm squeeze. He’d say it’s humiliating if it didn’t feel so good to be under you, panting and sobbing.

Arching his back, Leon feels his impending orgasm creep up on him, only to dissipate rather than crash when you cease your movements on his erection entirely. Head digging further into your pillow, he whines loudly, only to be muffled by your lips moving against his. Despite the seemingly delicate way in which you touch his body, your lips are hungry against his, tasting him as you stifle his moans.

Your lips trail from his to the sensitive skin of his neck, sucking red marks that were too difficult to hide, but that was the point. Your brother had congratulated him for finally getting some when he saw the purplish bruises on his fair skin. He chuckled at the irony of him fucking his sibling, boyishly rubbing the back of his neck.

“P- please, fuck, angel. Can I come?” he pleads. Leaning back on his thighs, you let your nails scrape the flesh on his chest and stomach, allowing red scratches to rise in its paths. He feels you shift on his thighs, subtly grinding your needy cunt on him as he begs for your attention on his cock. 

You had been denying his release for too long now, but you finally had time with him for yourself, so you wanted to abuse it to the best of your ability. When he peers up at you, gripping your hips so eagerly as moans slip past his parted lips, you want to give him to the moon and more. 

“You’ve been so good f’me, Leon. So pretty ‘nd obedient. I think you deserved to come,” you whisper back to him, gripping his length once more and pumping him slowly. Your words are almost enough to make him come undone into an incoherent mess, and when you squeeze the tip of his cock, his soft tummy clenches as ropes of his thick cum spurt out his overtly sensitive dick onto his chest.

Peppering his face with kisses, you mumble soft praises as you take care of him.

“You’re such a good boy for me, baby. I love you s’much.”

[hydriad81194]

WOOO RANDOM DEATH FAMILY HEADCANONS

Lmao sorry pissa and death family nation for being somewhat inactive, take these headcanons that probably don’t align with canon as compensation

THIS IS ABOUT THE CHARACTERS NOT CONTENT CREATORS BTW

Not a single person in the Death Family is warm to touch and can often be cold before bed, their houses and nests are always somehow really warm and blanket full

Missa and Phil built a small shelf in the kitchen in the house at old spawn, Missa and Chayanne have filled it with cookbooks

Tallulah knows how to make perfume and because Missa has been away for a while, Tallulah has been making perfumes for him for when he gets back

Adding onto the last one, there have been lots of ‘failed attempts’, ie Tallulah was being nit picky with the scents and trying to figure out exactly what he likes

Missa will like anything and everything given to him, so long as it’s made with love

Phil, on the other hand, will like everything and anything given to him even if it’s given with hate, because he assumes the other has a connection to it (assumes they might just like things like he does)

When Missa first left on the old spawn Phil used to make small dinners for him that wouldn’t go bad for a while just in case Missa came back when he came back

Overtime, they would get more complex and put in the fridge with a note left for him

Every single meal, regardless of what it is, will have toast cut in the shape of Phil’s had with avocado making the green stripes, and another toast cut like a skull with blueberries for the details

Chayanne used to stress bake when his parents were gone, and that improved his skills in cooking really quickly

Tallulah walks extremely quietly, Chayanne picked this up and it scares Phil every time

Despite his parents vibes and all that, Chayanne refuses to wear black sweaters specifically, shirts are on thin ice and black k shorts or pants are a coin flip, this is because he doesn’t like flour showing on them when he doesn’t want to use an apron

Tallulah used to pick at her nails when nervous, but started picking at flowers instead and now her nails hurt if she scratches you

It doesn’t matter who you are, if you become apart of the Death Family, the first thing you’re taught is how to paint your nails

When Phil doesn’t have a bookmark with him and when his wings had healed enough, he would pluck a feather out and use it as a bookmark

Either Phil or Missa doggy ears pages in a book and genuinely can’t tell who, I just think one of them does even if they have a bookmark available

There are a shit ton of keychains on Phil’s bag, you give him one, it could be of anything (besides anything fed related), it’s going on that bag

Phil sometimes wishes he could proper speak bird, I guess, this is only so he could also flirt with and compliment Missa in another language like he does

Chayanne has crocs

When Tallulah cut her hair, she asked for a photo of Missa and mimicked his hairstyle

Whenever Missa is awake/goes to sleep with Phil, the eggs silently rejoice because those two hug each other extremely closely when they sleep

Despite Missa being gone for the longest time, when Phil didn’t come back on Mexican Independence Day, he developed a fear of him leaving him, like physically being far away when he didn’t know where he is and if he was okay, he understands now what Phil feels when he’s gone

Missa, because he’s the tallest between a bird man and children, will pick them up and spin them, even if only for a bit lmao he’s not strong

Adding onto that one, whenever Phil is too excited or stress or just overwhelmed with any emotions, Missa spins him around to help and it works for some reason

Phil started to spin himself in circles when overwhelmed and when Missa was gone

After the birdhouse and when Phil was physically alone, he used to sit by a crafting table with rocks and ores and make little figures of Chayanne, Tallulah and Missa, they weren’t the best and didn’t the proportions weren’t amazing, but he spent weeks on each one and added little faces with a marker

He left the Chayanne and Tallulah statues on their respective beds, with Missa beside the flower pot, hoping they would be replaced with the real people when he woke up

They never were, but Phil put them in the window upstairs once the eggs were back

When the eggs first went missing, Phil took out some cookbooks, and every single meal that looked frequently used/visited was made, and always left out for Missa

If they weren’t eaten, Phil would eat half of it for his dinner the next day, the other half in a fridge

He actually made Missa a fridge to put all these meal in and painted it to suit his vibes

The trash cans used to always filled with sticky notes because everyday, Phil would write ‘Dinner for you’ with a silly little doodle on it for Missa if he returned while sleeping

Tallulah writes in cursive

When Missa was gone, Phil used to write his name like Misƨa (second s is backwards) and make the tops each s look like half a heart, so it made a heart in his name

Missa picked up on this and always wrote Philza instead of Phil so he could put a heart with the z and a

Im bad at explaining so this is what I mean by their names:

[flowersforchoso]

Back to you

summary: bi-han is going on a solo mission, but you don't want him to. husband!bi-han x reader. cw: angsty, slight hurt/comfort, established relationship, domesticity. nothing too serious

it was one of those nights were you found it hard to sleep because your thoughts raced a thousand miles per hour. bi-han was going on another one of his long missions, which wasn't surprising; only this time, there was a lingering dread you couldn't quite shake off.

you knew what you were getting into by being involved with him. you just didn't envision it would always be like this: that all of his days would be spent away from home, away from you.

but you couldn't fault him entirely; he was a busy man, with an entire clan to govern. still, deep in your heart, you wished he set consideration aside for you.

even during your honeymoon—what was supposed to be an intimate period, free from interferences—his duties still took precedence, effectively casting you aside; placing you on the backburner. and the worst part? he never once protested, his priorities were clear.

he doesn't belong to you, even though you're evidently bound to each other.

you once thought about asking him if the lin kuei needed more members that you'd like to join since it seemed to be the only way you'd get his undivided attention, but had an inkling your attempt at jest would be poorly received, so discarded the idea entirely

you tossed and turned, trying to ease your anxiety but it was no use; eyes landing on bi-han's back, who was no doubt fast asleep.

shifting your gaze to the ceiling above, you blankly counted sheep hoping you'd eventually tire out and succumb to sleep. when that proved to be ineffective, you resumed tossing and turning, which provoked a response from your husband.

finally

"what is it?" his voice is groggy when he calls you out for disrupting his sleep. there's a certain softness to it, and you bite your lip, seeing this as an opportunity to share your thoughts, even though you knew it would lead nowhere, as always. but what harm was there in trying?

"must you go?" you didn't expect the words to come out in a squeak, but you're certain he heard you loud and clear, his reply made that evident

"we've talked about this, i won't repeat myself." his tone is sharp this time, it's obvious he's irritated by your goading, but was it really a bad thing to show that you cared, that you needed him, that you prioritized his wellbeing above all else?

"i feel like it's a bad idea" you swallowed, not allowing his iciness deter you from speaking. "i've been having nightmares. my intuition tells me—"

"your prattling disturbs me. cease it and rest." and with that, silence fell, signaling that no further discussion was needed. there was nothing new to say; you knew that, so did he. getting bi-han to change his mind was an exercise in futility, no different from trying to teach a pig how to fly—it was simply impossible and yet, you persisted.

perhaps his stubbornness had begun to rub off on you. it is said that couples often mirror each other, though you weren't sure how true that was. but if it were, you wished he adopted your traits instead.

sighing, you resign yourself to fate. but not long after, a certain thought crops up in your mind, making your eyes twinkle at the opportunity to turn lemons into lemonade; despair into joy, if only for a moment.

"can you... can you hold me? i'm finding it difficult to sleep." you finally confessed your troubles, hoping he wouldn't deny you something as innocuous as cuddling. contrary to popular opinion, bi-han wasn't all that affectionately challenged. he had the capacity for romance, although his displays of tenderness were few and far in between and sometimes difficult to decipher.

seconds soon turned into minutes, and when silence accompanied inaction, you dejectedly muttered, "goodnight bi-han," as you curled into yourself under the covers.

the next morning, you awoke to the sounds of muted shuffling. bi-han was already up, nearly dressed in his familiar lin kuei getup. you yawned whilst rubbing your eyes, then got out of bed to make your way towards him.

"shall i brew tea?" his back was facing you when you asked, but then he turned to meet your eyes, brows slightly furrowed. "i'm not a child, i can fend for myself if need be."

you only shook your head, fully aware of his disposition and refusing to take his words to heart. "i'm well aware; i just want to help in some way, be useful to you"

"go back to sleep." his dismissiveness made you struggle to hold back tears, but a sob managed to escape your now quivering lips. "how can i, when my husband is leaving?"

"bi-han, please. for once in your life, acquiesce." your eyes squeezed shut in frustration as you pleaded with him to rethink his decisions. it was a pitiful sight, and you were on the brink of bursting into tears at this point—the culmination of your feelings regarding this situation, and perhaps your marriage with him.

as expected, he is unmoved by your outbursts and heads for the bedroom door. you blink away tears before following him into the living room

"i don't have the time and my patience is growing short." he gruffs, already standing near the doorway, about to make his exit. tears are streaming down your face now; you've tried. you've only got one appeal left.

"promise me..." you sniffle, "promise me you'll return home—right here, right back to me"

bi-han's expression softens at your crestfallen countenance. a sliver of guilt tugs at his heartstrings, although you'll never know. he'll never afford you that privilege

"be at ease," he calmly assures. "do you need constant reminders that i'm grandmaster of the lin kuei, not some third-rate lackey?"

this time, you let out a sorrowful chuckle. his bravado is so typical, ego larger than the size of two planets. you firmly rebuke him, showing your seriousness on the matter. "that's not the answer i want to hear. promise me you will return, bi-han"

those words prompted him to act. and act he did, moving closer to you and gently placing a hand on your cheek. you embrace his touch, silently praying for this moment to not end while the tears flowed, seemingly neverending

"i'll return to you. come hell or highwater, neither will prevent me because it is destiny to be with you. i solemnly promise you this."

his words, rather than comforting, were far from it. yet you believed him regardless, because what else could you do besides blind belief?

as if sensing your doubts, he seals his promise with a quick kiss on your forehead, leaving you longing to uncover and experience more of the warmth hidden beneath those frozen layers. but it's too late for that as he backs away and sets off on his mission, not once looking back at you.

you don't know why your heart is suddenly constricting, but his absence is already palpable and engulfing. both of you, unaware, chaos and all its conundrums awaits him while you remain, waiting and pondering, as a pulse continues to grow within you.

wallowing.

[luminouslywriting]

Bob headcannon being closed in a cabinet with them and ur both getting hot

Hello!! So sorry this has taken FOREVER!! I got promoted at work and have been working more haha! Thats the reason for my inactivity and I’m sorry :( but hopefully I’ll be able to get out a few requests this week! Happy 4th of July to everyone who celebrates! Cut for length, paragraph form, spice obviously included:

Dick Winters: Does it come as a surprise to anyone that this man is bashful about the entire thing? Like he’s very acutely aware of his own mortality at the moment but he’s not going to act on anything and put himself in a situation where he’s making decisions for the both of you. Bestie, you’re gonna have to make the first move.

Lewis Nixon: I can’t explain why but it’s giving thirteen year old boy at his first boy-girl party. This man is thrilled about the situation and definitely cracks a few jokes about the situation before making a move. It’s a hurried and in the dark makeout session that ends in rumpled clothing and swollen lips for sure. And he’s smug as a bug when he gets out of there too.

Ronald Speirs: Incredibly pleased about the entire situation anyway and is definitely going to make the most of the moment. He's unabashedly getting real (consensually) handsy in that closet with you. And this may or may not become a regular thing between the two of you.

Buck Compton: Only slightly bashful? He didn't mean to end up in this situation and he only feels slightly bad about getting hot in the circumstances. But if the two of you start making out, this man is NOT complaining and is going to probably assume you two are together after that.

Carwood Lipton: A bashful mess of a man who's just trying to get out of this situation as quickly as possible as he apologizes to you because it's such a small space and surely you're aware of his problem now. After being in said space though....if you kiss him, he's definitely emboldened and ready to be with you haha.

Joe Liebgott: All too pleased to be in the situation to begin with. He's probably getting into some dirty talk and acting as though YOU'RE the one who set the entire thing up. Get a little handsy and he becomes a whimpering mess of swears and heavy breathing though haha.

Donald Malarkey: Unassuming and also kinda bashful? He just doesn't want things to get weird between the two of you but he also can't stop talking and so if you shut him up with a kiss, I guarantee he'll simp for you forever.

Eugene Roe: Mumbling to himself about how this is NOT how he thought today was going to go. Also delightfully embarrassed about the fact that he's getting turned on at a moment like this with you. But also...he just shoots his shot? And if he so happens to show you just how talented he is with his hands, it's a win-win situation haha.

Bill Guarnere: Grumbling about how he's gonna kill whoever locked the two of you in here. But the minute he shuts up and actually pays attention to the non-verbal cues, he's in heaven with the way you two are caressing one another and just having a drop-dead amazing makeout sesh.

Joe Toye: Annoyed af at himself and at the situation. Might be a little rude at first, but only because he's just really trying to keep his thoughts to himself and his desires. Get handsy and let him know it's okay to touch you too—he'll be like a kid in a candy store haha.

George Luz: The two of you are hiding for pulling a prank and naturally, you choose the bahamas of hiding places (iykyk). And what starts as you two trying to be quiet then turns into trying to REALLY keep quiet as the two of you are pleasuring one another and trying not to get caught.

[celticcrossanon]

BRF Reading - 13th of July, 2024

This is speculation only

Cards drawn on the 13th of July, 2024

Question: Will Harry and Meghan divorce in the next 6 months (or is the talk about this just for PR)?

Interpretation: They are definitely very unhappy together, but I'm not seeing clear signs about a divorce.

Card One: The Hanged Man in reverse

The Hanged Man is a card of inaction, sacrifice, and gaining a different perspective. When it is in the reverse, you are down off the tree and the time for action has come, but in the reverse it can also signify stalling, not wanting to take action/apathy, and not wanting to make the necessary sacrifices so action can occur.

I'm getting mixed energy from this card. First of all, it is definitely time for action - there is a putting plans in motion, full steam ahead energy. By itself, this would indicate that actions leading to divorce (gathering evidence, hiring lawyers, filing papers, living apart etc) are already in motion, and we would hear about them in due course. However, there is a second energy here, and that is one of delay - an 'I don't want to' energy, a reluctance to make the sacrifice/s so that the divorce can go ahead. It is an 'I want it but without any consequences' energy, a 'wave a magic wand and make it go away' energy, and that is just not how things work in the real world. The two energies are pulling against each other - one saying yes, go now, this is the time for it and the other sulking and dragging its heels and saying 'this is going to hurt and I don't want to feel the pain'.

The Hanged Man is the card of Neptune, the planet of illusions, among them rose coloured glasses in the matter of love and relationships. In the reverse, it indicates that the rose coloured glasses are slowly starting to come off. No matter how much the person/people involved try to cling to their illusions. they are slowly melting away and the hard facts of reality are intruding through the rose coloured cloud.

Card Two: The Page of Cups in reverse

Pages are messages, they can be children, and Cups is the suit of emotions. Upright, the Page of Cups is a happy message that is about emotions or the affairs of the heart. It can indicate sensitivity, naivety, idealism, daydreaming (all part of the Neptunian rose-coloured glasses mindset that is slowly dispersing in the card above). In the reverse, these emotions become escaping reality, being insecure, emotional immaturity etc, while the message brought by the page is still about the emotions, but now it is an unhappy message.

The energy I am getting from this card is a very unhappy energy. This is my card for narcissist, self absorbed people, people who can't see beyond themselves and their reactions, (because it shows Narcissus gazing at his reflection). The energy of this card is of two such people (self absorbed, can't see beyond themselves, possibly narcissists) who are not getting their emotional needs met. They are not getting the adoring crowds and the applause and the admiration that they need to be happy. They are very unhappy and are unable to fulfil each other's emotional needs. However, like Narcissus gazing into the water until he wastes away, they don't want to part. I feel like they are not finished with each other even though they are only getting toxicity from the other person.

The energy is of a deep unhappiness combined with a reluctance to move away from the other person, even though being with the other person is making them unhappy.

Card Three: The Page of Wands in reverse

Pages are messages, and Wands can be PR, and the energy I am getting from this card is about PR. In the reverse, this card indicates a bad PR image or message, and that is what the energy is saying. It would look bad for them PR-wise to divorce now. It would reflect poorly on their (already poor) PR images and brand. I think this is what is holding Meghan and Harry together - neither of them want the bad publicity that will come with a divorce, so they are staying together to avoid it.

Card Four: The Knight of Pentacles

This card represents a Virgo person, and here it is full of Harry's energy (Harry is a sun sign Virgo). Knights are action cards, and the knight in this card is facing away from the other cards about the relationship. This tells me that at this point in time, Harry will be the one to leave the relationship (this may change in the next 24 hours as that is what the Harkles are like). However, the Knight of Pentacles is the slowest moving knight of the tarot, so if Harry does make a move to leave the relationship, it will be a long time coming - he will move very slowly though all the steps necessary before he leaves his marriage (by slowly, I mean molasses slow, walking through mud slow, moving a mile by travelling an inch a day slow).

Underlying Energy: The Two of Cups in reverse

The Two of Cups is the card of relationships and of choosing to stay in or deepen a relationship. In the reverse, the relationship is over. The bonds between the couple are broken beyond repair. The energy from this card says that the relationship is over, dead, finished - the couple may try to blow life back into it but that will be the last flickering embers of a dying fire. This relationship is over. The question that is not answered, although the energies around it are shown in the above reading, is what will the couple do with their dead relationship?

Underlying Energy Two: The Eight of Swords

This is a card about feeling trapped, especially mentally, and not being able to see a way out. It can be the card of having a victim mentality or having negative thoughts about a situation. It is a card about feeling powerless and unable to help yourself escape.

This is how Harry and Meghan feel about their marriage. Both feel trapped by it, both feel like victims of the other person/family, and both feel that they can't escape from the marriage via divorce. The trapped and helpless and feeling like a victim energy is coming through strongly. Both of them blame the other person for the mess their relationship is in and neither of them were willing to change things to make the marriage work. The marriage is dead and all that is left is playing the victim and blaming each other while being trapped together (in their eyes).

Conclusion:

Harry and Meghan's marriage is dead. They each feel like a victim, they each feel trapped by the marriage and the other person, and neither of them is willing to make the step to cut themselves free. Neither of them are having their emotional needs met through the marriage and neither of them are willing to endure the pain/sacrifice/bad PR that will come with a divorce. The time for action to end the marriage is now, but neither of them is willing to take action to divorce. They prefer staying together in misery while each of them wallows in their view of themselves as a victim and drowns in self pity. Each of them is waiting for someone else to ride in and save them without any pain or effort on their behalf.

[xclowniex]

Little antisemitism story of antisemitism I experienced today irl.

It was raining and the closest thing to my office is macdonalds and I forgot lunch so I was like "welp, macdonalds it is then"

I walk to the macdonalds and it's packed as there is some international event happening where high-school ages kids from around the world are attending, with hoodies which have the event logo and the country they're from on it. I'm not going to specify the event so I don't doxx myself.

I order my food, and wait for it to be ready so I can take it back to the office to eat it. I stand near a table with some of the kids and go on my phone.

I hear snickering and laughing so I glance over and two French teenage boys are looking at me, laughing, and speaking French. I only know 3 things in French due to a friend taking French back in school, one of these words is "nose". I hear these French boys who are laughing at me and speaking in French say nose. I tense up but decided that I could have misheard them and there could potentially be something funny behind me.

They snicker and laugh some more, still looking at me, and say the word "kike". Now I truly know what is going on. I have no clue specifically what they said, but all I know is that these boys are saying some antisemitic shit about me in French.

Whilst I wish I had the balls to confront them, I was simply too shocked trying to process what happened, and the emotions that came with it. I've spoken before about how I've been harassed by strangers in town, and due to that, I have been avoided certain parts of town near my office, and macdonalds was a safe spot where I had not been harassed before. The feeling of "fuck I'm not safe anywhere" paralyzed me in the moment. I try to calm myself down, do so, and debate saying something again, but my food was ready so I ended up just getting it and leaving.

And honestly, whilst the event itself hasn't affected me much as I've been able to rationalize to my brain that the part of town the macdonalds is in is still safe as they are leaving once the event is over, my own inaction has affected me.

I normally call things out when it happens. I've stood and stared at a man who sexually harassed me at a supermarket and used a loud voice when repeating back what he said to me and how it made me feel uncomfortable so he would feel shame and embarrassment. I've called coworkers out for being bigoted, even coworkers who are more higher ranking than I am. I am not scared of confrontation when a bad thing has happened. However I was just paralyzed with fear of another area no longer being safe for me in that moment and it has shaken me to my core that I did not react how I expected myself to.

I don't know how to end this post in a meaningful way so just take this as the end

[threepandas]

Bad End, Eve: Part 2

Prev: <-

He had clothes for me. And It would not have been so unsettling, had they been less... precise. Less flattering. Fit less perfectly. But they DID. A sundress, in a flattering cut. A lovely color for my skin tone. The sort of thing a man who wore only variations of the same outfits? Day in and day out? Definitely researched.

At least I had fucking underwear now.

Even if I still couldn't move under my own power, farther then an inch or so.

He didn't even have the decency to dress me like a doll. Fondly but with some detachment. A bit of distance I could cling too. No, I was the paralyzed toddler, to be cradled and cooed over as he manhandled me. Praises as though I DONE anything. Kisses pressed to bio-gel wet hair and skin.

Weren't I SUCH a good girl? Letting him do as he pleases. Unable to stop him. Weak as the newborn I was. Fuck. The echoes of pain still howled along my near weeping nerve endings. Begging for rest. For the finest pain medication cocktails money can buy. Anything.

Instead I got this.

Clingy hands and the near bitter cold of a lab.

A lab coat was pulled onto me next. It didn't match my little dress up outfit. But? At least it was WARM. Thank god. Already, the goo was making my clothes stick to me. Sucking away my heat. Leaving my... my EVERYTHING feeling gross and sticky. I wanted a shower. Not to be dressed up.

But I had a feeling I wouldn't be getting what I wanted.

"There we are~ All nice and covered up. We'll get you cleaned up soon, sweetheart. Daddy promises." The madman who held me hummed. His face tucked against my gel filthy hair as his hand rubbed up and down my limp arm, as though trying to draw warmth to it. A mockery of caring. This was possession. "Now let's get out of here, hmm?"

Scooped up like a princess, I felt more like a toy too be carted around.

I was carried, for the first time, from the lab that had been all I'd known.

I wish he'd left me there. Forgotten I even existed. Instead, I got to see firsthand, EXACTLY what he had done. And... and I knew... KNEW that none of those dead around me were innocent. They all had hand in atrocities, either directly or by compliance. Inaction. But.... but did they deserve this? Indiscriminate execution?

He didn't even glance down, as he strolled through the carnage he had made.

Too the elevators, where he casually kicked the corpse blocking the door, out of the way, before steeping inside. We rode in near silence. Just me, him, and the corpses of three security gaurds and a scientist. He was humming. Soft but pleased, as though the day had turned out surprisingly well.

He had to rest me on a hood, when we reached the carpark. So he could dig out his keys. I was swept up again. Though not carried far. Fancy. Good to know being a morally bankrupt, weirdly clingy, DEEPLY fucking cracked, mad scientist pays well... I guess...

Placed down on another hood while he...

Are you kidding me?

With a near skip in his step, I watch as my "father" strolls to the trunk of his car. Pops it open. Pulls out a FUCKING KIT. An honest to God duffle bag. Several unopened plastic carseat covers. How... how LONG has he been PLANNING this?!

Numbly, I watch as he preps his front seat for me. Both protecting the upholstery while somehow making an honest to God nest of comfort for his little passenger princess. There are layers. The motions look practiced. I... I feel like I'm in a fever dream.

He does realize I'm technically a science experiment, right?

We are... for lack of a better plot device, absconding in the night? He's not PICKING ME UP FROM THE HOSPITAL. He's kidnapping me! Stealing me!! What the ACTUAL FUCK?!

I don't ask. Know BETTER then to ask. I remember that much. You don't argue with crazy. You smile, nod, and quietly get the FUCK out of there at the first possible chance. Placate don't escalate. If the madman wants to play "happy family"? Suuuuuure, "Daddy". Of COURSE.

That's EXACTLY what'll do...

You know, right up until I can fucking RUN again.

Then peace out, bitchcakes. You can take your nuttypuffs and SHOVE IT. I am sore, cold, and YOU are the one who kept pumping me full of drugs! They HURT. A LOT. I know for a FACT the world's probably gonna end. In that weirdly symbolic anime way, where there's giant hands and faces or whatever, so? Screw you!

Noooooot that I SAY that.

Because, again, we do not provoke the crazy man with a gun.

And a PLAN apparently. Dooooon't LIKE that he has "A Plan". In fact, would Prefer Not. But I'm not getting what I want today. I'm getting lifted and put, like a precious if sickly child, into the little car nest he's made for me and tucked in. Watching as he rounds the car to slide protectors over his own seat as well.

Well... at least he's self AWARE of all the blood.

He starts the car. Turns on the heater, a few taps of the console screen has music beginning to play and my seat leaning back. He leans over to grab my seat belt, as though this were all perfectly normal, pressing a soft kiss to my temple as he gets me situated.

There are straight jackets less containing.

I am trapped. Bundled by blankets, wrapped and pressed in on all sides, pillows and fancy little comforts I never wanted or asked for. All to then be strapped down by a seat belt I can't even REACH.

Great.

Just... Great.

He leaves the car running. Keys hanging, tormenting me really, in the ignition. If only I could FUCKING MOVE. I watch as he gets out. Walks back towards the elevator. He seems to think we apparently have all the time in the world. And really, according to time on the console? We kinda fucking DO.

It's barely mid-day.

Not... not even lunch.

Somehow that makes it worse. It shouldn't. I know it shouldn't. Death and massacre can happen at any time. But... the fact that he so cheerfully killed each and every one of his co-workers? Massacred everyone in the fucking building but me? In broad daylight? Makes it... worse.

It feels like the sort of horror that should only happen during dark, moonless, nights. Someplace dark. Where you expect the wickedness of man against man, the inhumanity of so called civilized people. Not... daylight. Beneath the cheerful rays under which children play and people fall in love, life bustles around. It should be for LIVING.

It's a bias.

A naive thought.

Foolish of me to hold...

And yet? I still had it. Still found myself shocked. Guess I can be glad? That my innocence has not been COMPLETELY lost to this place. That there is still good in me. I seem to still assume the best of people, foolish as that is. How very dangerous.

My "father" is back. Wheeling boxes and boxes of hard drives. Lock boxes of things unknown. First the trunk, then the back seat. The car is stuffed. Every secret this place ever held it seemed. He's talking them. His grin has teeth. Is giddy and MEAN.

Looting the corpses of his enemies agrees with him, it seems.

The last trip is for his briefcase. A small pile of file folders. He's nearly dancing. Does a little twirl as he passes the front of the car, a slide to reach the door. Humming a showtime I don't recognize.

"Ah~ I've waited for this moment for YEARS~! Ha Ha!" Teeth flash and catch the low light of the carpark's emergency lighting, his eyes practically glow with a manic schadenfreude. "Oh my sweet Eve, you have NO idea how much I've been looking forward to the day I get to steal you away~ BURN this cesspit to the ground. And best of all? Finally get my hands on all this research! Put it to actual USE for once! No more filthy Adams. No more trying to fix the worthless and damned! Just us. Just Eden."

Well THATS not fucking ominou-...

Wait.

WHAT.

Eden. As in EDEN Eden? End game Eden? Super mega doom project Eden? Seemly perfect garden of bliss build upon horrors, that you think have to face Plot Relevant, "get one of several endings", Moral Quandary EDEN??? THAT ONE!? Oh, MOTHER FUCKER. Please tell me Crazy Daddy Pants isn't one of the Architects of the apocalypse.

I do NOT want to be ground zero for that. NOR in the Protagonist's way!

He buckles up. Pulls out of his spot. Casual as anything. The world is blinding, after a life spent inside. A depressing cyberpunk hellcity crowds the world around us. Somehow both choking the world of all color, even as it splashes itself with gaudy and neon like some sort of radioactive oil spill.

Clambering over each other like a bucket of crabs, dragging everyone else down as they claw at what's left of the sky.

A full city of Babel.

Yet? Even as I remember, lay witness, to this oh so familiar set dressing? Limp in my creator's car, as he drives. Smoothly navigating chaotic traffic worse then anything I could ever remember? My mind was faster then it had been. Processed information FASTER then I could ever have imagined.

I... I experienced time differently, I think.

It was... flexible? Slowing and speeding, depending on if I... not "concentrated"? But "payed attention"? I guess? Wanted to know. It felt almost like flexing something, yet there was no... flexing? Feeling? It was strange.

Yet...

Yet, with it...

I SAW.

A food cart. Owner sneaking a bedraggled man a few extra peice when he glanced away. Young parents, swinging their child between them. He is the center of their world. A first date. They are both widows, old grief still clings, but cautiously... they are ready to try again. There is SO MUCH. Lives and lives and LIVES.

The city is ugly, cruel, but the people are not.

They are not props in someone else's play.

The traffic dies off, as we get closer and closer to opulence. As brutalism shifts to a blend of art nouveau and art deco. Bits of greenery, kept like trophies to be displayed. I am somehow... unsurprised, when my creator pulls us into the garage of one of the more expensive but barren looking houses.

It is the sort of place that makes show room's seem warm.

Because, at least, show rooms TRY to mimic hospitality and warmth. A lived in quality. They, at least, SUGGEST that the dwelling they represent could one day be a home. This? This place hold no such illusions. This house would prefer itself to be a lab. Be left alone. The walls somehow radiating a disgust of you.

It is unbearably cold.

Scooped up again. The blankets have dried against my skin in places. So he merely takes them with, rather then (apparently) risk my poor hyper durable yet still sensitive skin. He's made me a living tank. Through agony after agony, day by day, yet NOW? Now I am treated like spun glass.

Carried into the house... and God, in the GARAGE was bad? This is somehow worse. I feel like tracking in a single speck of dirt would somehow get me treated to a summary execution. Literally. That nothing resides here but nutrient paste and room temperature, triple filtered water. A place where the color beige is treading dangerously close to being "too much".

Isn't this a form of torture? I'm pretty sure this was a form of torture, locking people in rooms designed like this.

Up the stairs, down a near barren hallway. The paintings probably came the house. They scream "generic and inoffensive". Where are we..? WHY are we going to the master bedroom? I do not WANT to be alone in a bedroom with you, my dude. Shit. FUCK!

I wriggle. I can twitch my feet a bit more now, but not by much.

"Shhhh, my perfection, I know. Being so filthy must be unbearable. But don't worry, Daddy's here. We're almost there." He croons at me, almost in the exact tone one uses to sooth a fussy toddler. I pray to God this isn't a sex thing. It's already weird, I don't know HOW weird I can tolerate before I snap. "Daddy's gonna get you all cleaned up, okay? Then you can take a nap while he pack everything to go. We're going on a little road trip to our new home. Growing girls need clean air and flowers, after all."

Oooooh fuck.

Fuck, he DOES plan to take me to Eden.

Ooooh ho hooo, I am gonna DIE die. Like... super mega death. Class A with sparkles Death. Eden is a seemingly utopian dream garden. A cottage core painting brought to life. Problem is? It's built on the back of endless suffering. Cruelty and blood, atrocity and hell itself made real.

You could like in heaven... so long as you ignored what it cost others.

Destroying Eden is what triggers the Apocalypse. Because it's BUILT INTO THE PLANET. Like a massive tumor. A parasite. Killing an already dying world even FASTER. But? Again. If you wanted to get YOURS and damn the rest? Beautiful beyond measure.

His bathroom is exactly the sort of rich person nonsense I expected from a house this size. Too much space. I get set down on a bench. Because THAT'S normal to just.. fucking have. How the hell does it not MOLD? No, wait, concentrate. I do NOT want this man bathing me! Yes, he's seen me naked. A lot. But that wasn't touching! No touchy!

He comes back with a pitcher.

And I discover that I am saved. Bio-gel is incredibly water soluble. He pours water over where the blankets stick to me to free me. Has removed his shoes and watch. Everything, really, that can't afford to get wet. I find out why? When he carries me straight into a walk in shower.

Fully dressed.

....at least he's respecting my boundaries?

Never VOICED them, though. So I have no idea what this is. Washing off the blood maybe? We don't stay long. Or, rather, I don't stay long. Just long enough to remove most of the gel. Then I am swept off to a fancy jacuzzi tub. Oooooh, bubbles. Warm water. Warm and comfy, massaging wat jet lined seat. Blergle....

I think my brain is melting out.

Waaaarm soup. Bubbles. Cook my muscles until I am noodle. Leave me, I wanna die here.

I am utterly blissed out. Boneless. No longer even TRYING to keep track of my surroundings. The indulgent chuckle from above me? Should probably worry about that. But on the OTHER hand... what if I just continued to doze off, here, in what is clearly heaven's water filled embrace? Hands gather my hair. Gently begin to work what smells like fancy shampoo into it.

Spa day?

My sleepy brain says it's probably spa day or something. This is nice~

By the time everything is done, my limbs are heavy and boneless. Relaxed. At least, I'm PRETTY sure that's why I can't move so good. Mmmm, sleepy. Warm now. I list to the side, only to be caught gently. The guy helping me, helps me change. Comfy new clothes. Hair ready for sleep. Even carries me to a big ol bed. Tucks me in. How nice...

I'm forgetting something...

Feels important. But I'm TIRED. I'll deal with it in the morning.

"Ah~ my perfect girl, I can't wait to give you EVERYTHING." Whispers a voice, like a confession, before a kiss is pressed to my temple. "You were made to be loved. Adored. The perfect child meant for a perfect world. I can not wait to finally bring you HOME. God's mistake was making Adam."

"All I need, is Eve."

[lilacevans]

𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞'𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐲

happy vals day babies!!!!<333 here's how you'd spend valentines day with each of the men from pete's place! this is just short and sweet, a little gift for being inactive these past couple weeks!! am finally feeling a little better- just dealing with some wisdom tooth painnn. anywaaaaaay, enjoy besties<33 let me know your favourite! mwah!<3

✧.*ೃ⁀➷ pete's place | the intro | opening night | the playlist ༊*·˚

*this is an 18+ space. minors are not welcome here.

*this is a dark au. there are no happy endings here.

✧˚ · .ೃ⁀➷ 𝐚𝐫𝐢

✧.*ೃ ari plans a night under the stars. a complete surprise. led out blindfolded, mouth wide at the sight. ✧.*ೃ handmade fort, soft pillows and blankets. picnic and wine. portable speaker playing your favourite music. ✧.*ೃ of course you spend time between his thighs in return, he wants to make sure you're not able to speak the following day (mainly so you can't rat him out on what a romantic he is)

✧˚ · .ೃ⁀➷ 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬

✧.*ೃ holy hell. the brute can cook. like, really cook. candlelight dinner, and everything is personally made by curtis. paired wine, matching outfits, fairy lights and roaring fireplace. ✧.*ೃ while dinner is spent mainly in silence, it's one of those times you welcome it. it's comfy. he makes it comfy. footsy under the table, soft smiles and bashful laughter. ✧.*ೃ but don't worry. you'll soon remember of why you fear him. a little chase after dinner? how could you possibly? and that's exactly why you're told to run, and may the good lord help you when he does.

✧˚ · .ೃ⁀➷ 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞

✧.*ೃ sweet stevie would plan a little book/painting date. he'd decorate the manor library, pick out some of your favourite books. gets your favourite drinks, snacks, pastries, etc. ✧.*ೃ the night spent giggling away while you read your book aloud while steve sketches/paints you, until you end up watching a sappy movie while cuddled on a fuzzy rug, snug under a blanket. ✧.*ೃ hands roam, finding their way under clothes. soft kisses turn into burning need.

✧˚ · .ೃ⁀➷ 𝐣𝐚𝐤𝐞

✧.*ೃ rock music, beer, pjs and games! it's a night filled of mario kart, mortal kombat, etc. knocking each others controllers, hurling insults and giggling like children. ✧.*ೃ pillow fights, play fighting that leads to you pinned on the couch, shrieking and laughing as jake tickles your sides, goading you to go back at him. ✧.*ೃ of course this leads to some fucking right there on the couch, jakes filthy mouth, your obscene moans mixed with the loading screen of a game and the music.

✧˚ · .ೃ⁀➷ 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞

✧.*ೃ in his sick little head, i think the man believes he's doing a nice thing by buying you a shit-ton of lingerie and asking you to model it for him while he gawks at you like an utter perv. damn the fact he's got a nice dick and knows how you use it bc damn it you're modelling your ass off to get it. ✧.*ೃ of course he wants a lapdance while you tell him what a perfect man he is, how grateful you are, how much you need him. ✧.*ೃ it's only when you're bouncing on his cock that he's spilling on the fact all he thinks and breathes is you. how lucky he is to have you, how much he adores you. kinda sad he'll deny it if you were to ask him about it the next day.

✧˚ · .ೃ⁀➷ 𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐝

✧.*ೃ if you thought you would be doing anything else other than knelt at this man's feet then you are a damn fool and you deserve it tbh. let's not pretend that's a bad way to spend vals day, anyway. ✧.*ೃ however, you're getting alllllll the pet names and praise. he's strangely lovey. more handsy, hits a little softer, sounds a little sweeter. biggest shock is when he thanks you for all the depravity you allow him to inflict on you. ✧.*ೃ you're helped in the shower, dressed comfy for bed and cuddled in his arms after a longgggggg session. it's nice.

[sirianasims]

Chapter 43.6

My mother taught me that sometimes it rains. Sometimes it pours, and you’re soaked through and miserable and it feels like it may never stop. But no matter how heavily the rain falls, no matter how drenched you get, you are not the rain.

Some day you will be dry again.

Things have been easier since I blocked Paul, the pain slowly fading to a dull ache, barely noticeable as long as I don’t dig too deep. I try to keep myself distracted, reading Lucky Girl for what must be the fifth time. It’s my comfort read, Evie reminds me a little of myself. I think we could have been friends, hanging out and agreeing that being in love is the absolute worst, actually, while we yearn for our respective idiots.

The memory of Paul is not the only thing I’m trying to escape. With all my channels inactive, even the haters have gone quiet and my views are dropping every week. I’ve toyed with the idea of simply abandoning everything and starting a new brand, but I don’t want to rebuild my follower count from scratch. I don’t have time for it. My bills are starting to pile up, and while I can still pay them for now, it won’t be long before I have to either crawl back to mom and dad and ask for help, or get one of those real jobs people keep talking about. I’m not even sure which option I would hate the most, so I hide in my book for now.

A sharp knock on the door jerks me away from Evie admiring Jude in an art gallery and back to reality.

I hesitate for a moment. I have no idea who it could be, and I don’t want to see anyone, especially not some smarmy salesperson – or worse, my landlord. With a sigh, I put my book face down on the armrest and shuffle to the door.

Miranda is leaning casually against the doorway, her high heels making her look almost as tall as Samara. At their feet, a couple of large shopping bags are threatening to fall over and spill their contents on my doormat.

“See, Samara? I told you she was still alive.”

“So you did. Then I sure hope she has a very good excuse for refusing to see her best friends for almost two months!“

I feel my cheeks get hot. “Uh, hi. I’m sorry I disappeared, I’ve just had a rough time since, you know. But I promise to call you, maybe we can make plans soon?”

“No need, we’re here now, so you won’t have to worry about that.” Samara’s smile is cheerful, but her tone is resolute. Even so, I try to object.

“Seriously, it’s not a good time, I haven’t even showered for like three days, and the place is a mess.”

“Girl, since when do we care about mess? We’re here because we love you – stinky or not.” She wrinkles her nose, making the freckles on her face dance.

“What is this, some sort of intervention?”

Miranda smirks. “Pretty much. Sorry, but someone’s gotta save you from yourself, and we’re not letting you waste any more time moping over a man who didn’t deserve you. We’ve got snacks and a box of rosé with your name on it, so you might as well get out of the way.”

“Fiiine, but no judging the absolute state of the place.” I roll my eyes and invite them in with a dramatic flourish of my arm, but I can’t help but smile. Samara bounces through the door despite the heavy shopping bags, and Miranda goes straight for my laptop.

“What’s your login?”

“It’s just my birthday, and before you come for me, yes, I know that’s bad.”

Miranda shakes her head as the laptop plays a jaunty tune and lets her in.

“You’ll get the full security lecture another day, right now it’s time to declare inbox bankruptcy. We’re getting rid of all this bullshit so you can get back to business.”

“Miranda, there are literally thousands of messages. It’ll take days to go through, maybe weeks.”

She doesn’t even look up, her perfectly manicured fingers a blur over the keyboard.

“Give me an hour. I’m going to delete anything that contains profanity, and then I’ll sort the rest into folders, so don’t worry, you won’t be losing anything permanently. But I’m going to mark everything as read and archive it so you can get a fresh start. If anyone wants something important from you, they’ll reach out again, trust me.”

I stop myself from protesting further. Miranda knows what she’s doing, and it really would be a relief not to worry about everything.

Behind me, Samara has stopped unpacking the groceries.

“Just let Miranda work her magic and get your smelly butt into a bath. And make it a nice one, soak for a bit and pretend you’re a mermaid or something. We’ll get everything set up in here while you scrub off the sadness.”

I feel a slight pang of embarrassment as I walk into the bathroom. The sunlight is creating little islands of warmth on the black tiles, but it also mercilessly illuminates the limescale in the shower and a couple of cotton swabs that missed the bin. The sink is decorated with a few dried clumps of toothpaste, each of them outlined in red from last time I dyed my hair.

How did I let it get this bad?

I turn on the taps and leave them running while I undress. Then, I lower myself awkwardly into the tub and let the water cascade through my fingers. It would be nice if it was this easy, washing away the sadness and frustration, the longing and the hurt.

The gentle sound of flowing water is mesmerising, and before I know it, the tub is full. I add a small handful of bath salts and swirl it around. A soothing scent of lavender rises with the steam.

When I lie down, the hot water envelops me like a hug. It feels like it’s thawing something in me that I didn’t even know was frozen. I close my eyes and listen to Samara and Miranda laughing about something. It’s almost like being home and hearing my parents talk softly in the other room. It always made me feel safe. Less alone.

As the water begins to cool, I scrub down, slowly, methodically, running soapy hands along every inch of my body. It feels good, like I’m massaging life back into my limbs. Tonight will be fun, I decide. We’re going to stuff our faces with junk food, get absolutely smashed on cheap wine, and pretend that my heart was never broken by some has-been actor from Tartosa.

I watch as the tub empties, imagining that all my sadness is flowing down the drain with the water and the tiny undissolved purple specks from the bath salt. Finally, I move to the shower to wash my hair and rinse off.

When I get out, I stop and examine myself in the mirror. I look a little tired and worn, like I’ve been sick. In a way, I guess I have. But the black tiles are radiating warmth under my feet and there are birds singing outside my window and I’m beginning to feel like everything is going to be fine.

Samara’s blue face glitters in the candlelight. The packaging from the masks we’ve applied is littered with adjectives like “rejuvenating” and “revitalising”, bold statements, but they do actually feel pretty good.

“Sorry, Julia, I know you love this crap, but I just can’t get over the cake tongue. Who decided cake would be the best bait for people? Are we really that obsessed with desserts?”

I look over my nails one last time and put down the file. “I’m actually more disturbed by the whole chin udder situation. I mean, who came up with that?”

Samara makes a disgusted face, but she’s not ready to change the subject. “Seriously though, even if you were absolutely starving and cake was your favourite thing in the whole world, would you really approach a plant shaped like a giant cow head with huge teeth? Really? And then try to grab what is obviously its tongue?”

Miranda giggles tipsily. “No, but can we talk about how Ned’s relationship with the cow plant is super toxic, though? I mean, it always starts out slow, right? Oh, so it eats meat, little bit of a red flag there, but it’s probably fine. And before you know it, you find yourself luring your neighbours to their deaths just to keep it happy.”

“Yeah, it’s classic, the way he keeps making excuses for her? She didn’t mean it, she’s just misunderstood! She only bites me because she loves me! I’m like, Ned, your girlfriend is eating people, you need professional help.”

Samara laughs. “I guess some men would literally rather feed their neighbours to a plant than go to therapy.”

My phone vibrates on the armrest behind me.

“Sorry, it’s Marten again, I better let him know I’ve got company. He’s been super busy with his exams so we haven’t had much time to play lately.”

Miranda raises an eyebrow.

“And he’s still fine just being your friend, is he?”

“Why wouldn’t he be? I mean, he was fine being my friend even though I was dating Paul. Besides, I haven’t even seen him in person since GeekCon, it’s been almost a year…”

I stop. Almost a year since I met Paul. It feels like a lifetime ago. I wonder what would have happened if I’d cosplayed as someone else, or if Paul hadn’t been there that day. Maybe I could have been dating Marten instead of having my heart trampled by some fickle celebrity. Nice, normal Marten with his mousy hair and his robot facts. I smile.

“Anyway, there’s nothing between me and Marten. Or anyone else, for that matter.”

Miranda sends me a mischievous grin. “That reminds me, you know that hot bartender from The Rooftop? Super flirty, cheekbones that could cut glass?”

“The one who gave us free refills on Samara’s birthday? Shane or something?”

“Yeah, him! He asked about you last time, wondered why you hadn’t come with us for like three weeks in a row.”

“How does he even know my name?”

“He didn’t, he just asked about our red-haired friend but you’ve clearly made an impression.” Miranda winks. “Maybe he’d be willing to help you get over Paul.”

I shake my head. “No thanks, I’m pretty sure he’s slept with like half the regulars. And I’m not looking for hook-ups, not now. I need to get my so-called career back on track, but I want to do something… different.”

I think of Paul, of late nights in hotel rooms, laughing at the most ridiculous b-movies before having amazing sex and falling asleep with his arms around me. “I don’t want to do cosplay again, absolutely nothing with movies or comics or superheroes.”

Miranda looks thoughtful. “What about just fashion stuff? I started out with just my shoe reviews and now it’s more general style advice and outfits to match your heels, but you have an eye for it and you know a lot about cuts and materials and design.”

“I guess? I don’t really know a lot about classic fashion, though, like couture and such. And it’s a really tough business to get into, plus I’d kinda like to keep the expenses down for now.”

“You could always just jump on one of the big trends. I bet you’d make bank as one of those clean girl aesthetic influencers or something.”

“That’s actually a good idea. I mean, I can probably get pretty far with just the makeup and clothes I already have. And I could move my sewing machine and rearrange the room, set up my camera and the lights…”

Miranda laughs. “We can start right now as long as it means we don’t have to watch any more terrible movies tonight.”

I reach for the remote. “Not a chance.”

beginning / previous / next

[jennaajoseph]

ㅤㅤㅤ ❛ The beginnings. ❜ ⸻ David Loki x F!Reader.

── ﹙౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ MASTERLIST&INFO.﹚. ☆

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ SUMMARY. ⸻ You and David remembered your sweet beginnings together.

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ PAIRING. ⸻ david loki x fem!reader.

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ CONTENTS. ⸻ none, mostly fluff, female reader.

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ A/N. ⸻ amazing request from anon!! (I'm so sorry it took so long) I tried a bit of a different style this time, I hope it doesn't look too bad?? I've tried to make Loki more brightful/flirty person in this. I need this man to be happy for once lol.

Work is kicking my ass lately lol, sorry for being inactive with fics, I'm still working on a few requests!! I have a few fics in my drafts I wanted to post for a long time so stay turned.

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ CREDITS. ⸻ photos - pinterest (cropped by me) , divider - @/cafekitsune.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ﹙©jennaajoseph﹚

You laughed at another funny memory with David that you remembered. "Oh, c'mon, that was embarrassing." He covered his face with both hands, feeling embarrassed.

"What?! It was adorable!" You chuckled softly.

He gently shook his head. A small smile appeared on his face at the memory of him wearing a pink shirt to one of your dates because you once said that pink is pretty. Later, he found out that it wasn't even your favourite color at all. "Do you know how stupid I felt after?"

"I was actually amazed that you were paying attention to little things like that." You leaned a bit closer to his face.

"I just wanted to do my best." He smiled as you leaned closer to him, looking into your eyes. "Impress you, you know?"

"You impressed me a lot, just like the first time we met." You gave him a toothy grin and he raised an eyebrow.

"Was there something wrong with our first meeting?"

"You don't remember? You were so eager to keep talking to me."

"I wanted to keep the conversation going! You really interested me that day." He tried defended himself.

You chuckled shaking your head gently at the memory.

⭑⭒⭒

David was sitting quietly at his table, drinking coffee. His eyes occasionally landed on you from time to time. You were peacefully typing on your computer, trying to finish the work that needed to be done for tomorrow morning.

The cafe was empty, there was no one besides you and him. A few small drops of rain were softly hitting the glass windows, making it not too uncomfortably quiet.

"Anything else?" The server looked at David, holding a coffee pot.

His gaze quickly dropped off you when he heard the waitress. "Oh, no, not really, thank you."

"If you need something, I will be behind the counter." She said softly, smiling. David returned a small smile. When the waitress walked in the opposite direction, his eyes landed on you again.

Your gaze accidentally met his, you quickly turned to look back into your computer, furrowing your eyebrows. His eyes dropped to look at his half-empty cup of coffee.

Despite everything, you could still feel his gaze on you, his eyes were basically burned into you, and you felt it. Your mind was telling you that he was just another creep that wanted to say some nasty joke when the time is right, and that was the last thing that you wanted to hear today.

"Could you stop staring at me, please?" You finally spoke, and his gaze met yours again.

"I'm sorry." He said a bit ashamed, his eyes dropped down again. "I just thought that you look really good today." He added awkwardly.

"Thanks, but you don't need to burn your eyes into me." You chuckled, looking at your computer again.

"It's hard not to look at you." He gave you a small, flirty grin. You rolled your eyes.

"I didn't know I was that pretty for some random stranger." You looked back at him. A small, almost unnoticable blush appeared on his cheeks.

"What are you writing?" He took a sip of his warm drink.

"I have some work due tomorrow."

"I'm probably distracting you, don't I?"

"A little bit." You gave him a playfull smile. "I could feel you staring at me like a creep, and I couldn't focus."

He placed the cup back on the table, chuckling awkwardly. "Sorry."

You rolled your eyes, smiling and started typing on your computer again. "Next time when you stare at some random girl, don't make it that obvious or scary."

He chuckled quietly, shaking his head. David wanted to keep the conversation going, but also didn't want too sound pushy or needy. You intrigued him, and he couldn't just let you slip past his fingers. "Thanks for the advice."

You gave him a quick wink and kept writing. Despite your comments, Loki kept staring at you. There was something about you that was different, unique. Something that intrigued him.

He decided to take another shot, and kept talking, even if it was something that would make you annoyed again. "I've never seen you here before."

"Because I've never been here before." You stopped typing, and looked at him again.

"You just moved in?"

"You are trying so hard, aren't you?" You closed your computer.

"Isn't what people do when they are interested in someone?" He gave you a cheeky grin.

"What if I told you that I have a boyfriend?" You returned the grin.

He shrugged softly. "I don't know, you have one?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe?"

⭑⭒⭒

"You were playing so hard to get, y/n, that's all I can remember." He said suddenly, getting you out of your thoughts.

"You were creepy."

"I was just showing interest in you." He put his arm around you, and pulled you closer.

"In a very creepy way." You smiled, laying your head on his chest.

"What exactly was creepy in my behavior?"

"The way you were staring at me, almost all the damn time."

David couldn't help but chuckle. "But in the end, you agreed for a coffee with me, don't you?" He smiled gently as you looked up at him.

"I think in the end, you intrigued me too."

⭑⭒⭒

"What do you think?" You leaned in your seat.

"If you had someone, you wouldn't talk to me."

"Smart."

"I think there's only one way to find out." He started, and you raised your eyebrow. "Would you go out for a coffee with me sometime?"

You smiled gently, he returned a smile. "When?"

"Same place at 8 tomorrow? I can pick you up."

"You are very forward, aren't you?" You stood up from your seat, and packed the device into your bag. "I will get here by myself, but thank you."

"As you wish then."

You took a few steps towards him and held your hand out. "It was nice to meet you..."

His eyes sparkled a bit, unnoticeable for you to see.

"David, David Loki." His hand squeezed yours.

"Y/n L/n."

"It was also nice to meet you, y/n."

⭑⭒⭒

"I hated the coffee you bought for me the next day." You blurred out suddenly, chuckling.

He sighed, rolling his eyes playfully.

"But I had a very nice time, you know?" You looked up at him. "I'm really glad that you tried to keep the conversation going."

"I'm very glad about that too." He leaned softly to kiss your forehead.