#maybe we’re both just desperate in our own ways

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[loveandpeaceanddoughnuts]

To be perceived: Husband!Nanami x Reader

“I don’t feel good in anything!” Your clothes are strewn around the room, victims of your self-image. Nanami holds up a dress, raising an eyebrow in a silent offer. You shake your head. “That hasn’t fit in years!”

He sits down heavily on the bed, surveying the emptied drawers and your increasingly desperate face. He tries discreetly to check his watch. He’ll call and move the reservations back, no problem.

You take off the latest rejected outfit and sit down helplessly in the middle of the room. “Kento, I’m an ugly slug.” Your husband joins you on the floor, wrapping both arms around you.

“You’re a beautiful slug, dear.”

You laugh and lean your head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I know we’re running late…”

He kisses the top of your head. “Don’t worry about it. I just want you to feel good. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you, my love.”

“Sometimes I wish I didn’t have to be perceived, you know?”

Nanami nods thoughtfully. “I can’t make that happen, but maybe I could help distract people. Make it so you’re not the one they’re staring at.”

You turn to look up at him. “What do you mean? You’re wearing your scheming face…”

“Don’t worry, angel. You just finish getting ready and leave it to me, okay?” He disappears into the bathroom.

In a few minutes, you’re feeling a bit better. You’ve put on a comfortable outfit and done your makeup. Nanami’s voice is muffled from behind the door. “Are you ready, darling?”

“Yes, ready when you are!” You call back.

Your husband emerges from the bathroom, a confident smile on his chiseled face. Your mind short-circuits for a moment, not sure what to focus on first- the shock of blonde hair slipping over one eye, the expertly applied black eyeliner, or the skirt swaying around his muscled thighs. He looks beautiful.

“Kento, what is this?” You squint. “Is that my eyeliner?”

“No, it’s mine,” he says easily. “I’ve had it since high school.”

“And the hair? I’ve never seen you without it gelled up…”

He blushes a little at that. “Also high school.”

You shake your head in disbelief, your heart racing at the unexpected transformation. “Well I know that’s my skirt,” you giggle.

“Ah, yes. That’s correct. I found one with an elastic waist, so I could fit- but I’ll change if you mind me using it.”

“No, not at all!” You reassure quickly. He has a good eye for fashion, despite his usual insistence on a leopard-print tie. He’s paired the skirt with one of his own button-downs, sleeves rolled up over his ropy forearms. You step forward, cupping his cheek in your hand.

“You like it, then?” He asks softly.

“You’re beautiful,” you sigh. “But what’s this all about?”

He chuckles. “I figured that although you look stunning as ever, I might get a little more attention than you tonight. Help with the whole ‘being perceived’ bit.”

You laugh and lean up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek, careful not to muss his hair. “You’re an angel. A sexy, stylish angel.”

“As long as I’m yours,” he murmurs. “Now. I’ve moved our reservations once, let’s not be late for them again, hm?”

Nanami’s theory was correct. Every eye in the fancy restaurant is on him as the two of you are escorted to your table. Some stares are admiring, some judgmental, but he’s completely unbothered. He looks at you from across the table as if you’re the only other person in the world.

You clink your wine glasses together. “To my beautiful wife,” he smiles.

“To my beautiful husband,” you smile back.

[foldingfittedsheets]

A basic human skill that people usually lock down around the age of three or four is impulse control. To conceptualize an action and it’s consequences before taking it. Maybe considering how that action affects other people. We then refine it through most of our childhood.

When I was a teenager my hold on this ability became… tenuous. I became a volatile and dangerous creature.

It’s probably not unique to me, but I had a perfect storm in terms of mental upsets. I had just mastered enough basic social skills, so I finally had a strong group of friends when my dad suddenly needed to move for work. Ripped away from my support network, blooming with hormones, I was dragged to Arizona. I was always a child of forests and mist and suddenly everything was hot, dry, and extremely pointy and aggressive.

Additionally to being abruptly transplanted I found myself an object of affection in a way I’d never been before. Lonely and desperate to make friends the only people who wanted to spend time with me had romantic designs. I just wanted to figure out my shit but I had a baby lesbian flirting with increasing aggression in art, a soft boy making heart eyes at me in biology, a senior nerd asking if I wanted to play Halo at his house and could he hold my hand?

Reader, I snapped. I didn’t want this romantic attention but I also didn’t want to be alone. My brain coped the only way it knew how, by simply cutting out decision making. Any action was the right action to take.

It started with the boy in biology. I’d stolen his pencil out of mischief and to my overwhelming fury instead of trying to steal it back he just softened his eyes and chucked me gently under my chin, a gesture so overtly sweet and romantic that I saw red.

I stabbed him with his own pencil.

I honestly and truly have no memory of it. It happened as fast as a snake striking and I was instantly filled with terrified remorse. Unfortunately that manifested as psychotic giggling.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t- I don’t know why- I’m so sorry!” I said, while hysterically laughing. I ended up having lodged some graphite in his palm and had to tweeze it out with my nails while apologizing furiously. (It’s very important to note here that he forgave me and we’re still friends)

That was weird, I thought. Why didn’t I think before I stabbed someone?

The next event was equally catastrophic, and I had even less reason to do it. In gym with two girls I was tentatively befriending, we were warming up running laps. I started racing one of them. At breakneck speed we were sprinting around the gym.

This time, there was a blip of thought before I fucked up. I should get the other girl! I have no idea why or what the plan was but I turned on a swivel and body checked the other girl. We both fell down in immense pain. I think that’s the moment I broke my tailbone. Her knees were horribly bruised and she looked at me in bewildered pain. “Why did you do that?!”

I had no idea. I apologized and helped her up, both of us hobbling like newborn horses, bruised and hurting.

By this time there’d been enough social upheavals that I was reduced to spending time with some girls I had nothing in common with and low key disliked. Sat at a table listening to this girl talk about how she wanted to be a stripper when she grew up I thought, You’d better put the cap on before you throw it.

I then chucked my empty water bottle directly at her face. It bounced off her forehead with a bop! that would have made a sound mixer weep at its perfection.

All eyes turned to me is startlement. I stared back at her, stunned by my own action, just as confused as everyone else at the table as to why I’d done that. One of the girls to my right said, “Were you trying to hit that fly?”

“Yes!” I lied, “I’m sorry, I thought I could hit the fly!”

Everyone laughed at my antics and I joined in rather than admit I had just chucked something at her for no reason.

Things did start to improve after that. I solidified a friendship with the girl I’d raced (who I developed a massive crush on and ten years later would go on to date). My outbursts turned more whimsical rather than aggressive. Like accosting a girl leaving the cafeteria to look deeply into her eyes and say with great compassion, “It’s going to be alright.”

My new friend and I snuck into the van that delivered our cafeterias baked goods and lay giggling in the back. When I’d impulsively hopped in she’d joined me and made it a game.

After a year in Arizona I broke down crying to my mother, an act of great desperation, and we ended up moving back home. My impulse control returned to normal teenage levels and life resumed in a happier state of mind.

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ BACKSTAGE SHOW — LYNEY.

contents. fem! reader, minors and ageless blogs do not interact, fingering, handjobs, unprotected + semi public sex, creampie

lyney, as all his charisma and charm suggests, is a risk taker—it’s why he has you pinned against the wall like this, backstage right before a show.

he shouldn’t. you shouldn’t. you both shouldn’t—but you will.

“lyney,” you warn, pulling away from his lips as he kisses you, hungry, needy, desperate, “we can’t—not here.”

he smirks a little against your mouth, let’s that smooth chuckle of his fan against your lips as he pecks them lightly. he’s amused when his brows quirk up and he stares at you like he has you cornered—he technically does.

“oh? can’t we?” he muses, “i guess not everyone is a fan of big audiences like me—don’t worry,” he presses a kiss to your jaw, “the stage is all ours here.”

“but anyone could walk by—”

“if we’re quick, everyone will be preoccupied—just like i planned it,” he winks.

of course. of course he’d plan to have everyone occupied just long enough that he could fuck you right behind the stage of his own show. you shouldn’t be surprised, yet here you are, gaping at him like he’s insane.

maybe he is, you think, maybe that’s why his tricks are so impressive—he’s not afraid to make a dangerous decision here and there.

“but—”

“i’m awfully nervous for this show,” he pouts, head falling back theatrically as he sighs, “i wish there was a way for me to relax before such a big performance. just to help calm my nerves—oh! wait,” he pretends to light up with an idea, hand squeezing at your tit as he grins, “i suppose there is one way.”

“you’re too much,” you groan.

it’s too late, his victorious grin is already flashing at you as he tugs down your pants, pushing the fabric of your underwear to the side before his finger brushes against your slit. he smiles smugly at the way you’re dripping already, slipping two fingers past your folds and deep into your cunt.

he watches you intently, stares at every reaction, every flutter of your eyes and every part of your lips, taking in the soft gasps as he brushes against that tender spot deep into your walls.

“look at that,” he coos, “you sure know how to put on a show of your own—much better than me, in fact.”

“l-lyney,” you pant, rolling your hips to meet his fingers as they thrust into you. you whine when his palm rolls against your clit, coating his hand in your slicked arousal.

“this is my favorite show,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple as his fingers sink in and out of your dripping core, “it’s such a shame no one else gets to see this—you’d be more popular than me.”

“you’re shameless,” you gasp—but you cut yourself off with a whimper when he curls his digits just right as they bully into you. you can feel his erection poke through his shorts, pressing against your thigh as he leans closer.

“now now,” he mumbles, sucking soft marks into your neck, “you might want to hurry—otherwise we won’t have time for the main act.”

just like that, you fall apart, right there in the back of the stage, not far from a crowd of people waiting to see the same person who’s knuckles deep into your pussy. you gasp, choking on a broken wail of his name as he works you through your high, thrusting into you as you squeeze around his fingers.

you’re breath is erratic—harsh as you breathe and stare into his amused eyes.

and then you don’t waste a second—slipping his pants down just enough to free his strained cock, flushed and pink and swollen at the tip as it leaks with pre cum. you smear it along the head, taking your time to slowly stroke him as he lets out a breathy gasp, head falling into your shoulder as his hips buck into your touch.

“i’m honored you enjoyed my performance,” you hum, “but i think the real performer is always you.” you’re grinning, turning your head and kissing right over his braid.

he chuckles between pants, moans low against your ear and sends shivers through your heated body with every sound he makes. you can’t wait any longer—and something tells you he can’t either, not with the way his hand gently replaces yours, guiding his stiff cock so that his tip is grazing your slit.

“trust me,” he breathes softly, tone much gentler this time, “this isn’t like my performances. this is real—” and then he’s pushing into you, right past your folds and sinking deep into your cunt where his tip kisses that sweet spot at the back of your walls.

it feels real—it always does: the way he kisses you, the way his arms wrap around you, the way he breathes your name like it’s the most important thing he’s ever said. his hips pull back before they snap forward in a deep thrust, slamming his tip back to hit that spot that makes you curl your fingers and dig into his shoulder.

you can feel the drag of every vein against your walls, feel the friction burn pleasure through every nerve as his pelvis meets your clit and bumps against it. it’s good—he’s good, always knows just how to make you forget about your surroundings as all you feel is him.

“lyney,” you whimper, letting him press his mouth over yours to silence you, swallowing every sound you make as he rolls his hips and quivers over your body at the way you suck him in.

it’s a mess—your arousal smeared between your thighs, his glistening cock pulling out before sinking right back into you, filling the small room with the wet sound of him fucking you desperately. you pull him closer by his shirt, and he whines into your mouth as you clench around him after a particularly harsh roll of his hips.

“do you feel me?” he hums, groaning as his head pushes deeper into your neck, hiding into the crook of it as his lips press hot kisses into the skin, “‘cause i can feel you—feels good doesn’t it?”

“yes,” you mewl, fingers trailing to sink into his hair, pulling and making him whimper at the tug, “‘s good—so good.”

he’s close—you can tell from the first twitch of his cock, from the way his pace is sloppier and his body slumps more weight into you, soft whines and low gasps filling your ear as you near your own high. your hips snap up to meet his, pushing him deeper, harder against you and hitting your spot perfectly.

it’s enough to make you sob his name, enough to make you squeeze just tight enough as you cum to make him crash into his own orgasm too—hot, thick ropes of cum filling you to the brim, spilling down the sides of your thighs and being fucked right back into you as he works you both through your highs without stopping.

“c-cumming,” he chokes—lyney is always so perfect like this, so pretty and magnetic when he falls apart right there against your body, with strained whines and broken calls of your name pushing past his lips as pleasure takes over every inch of his body.

you’re not sure when his performance starts, or if anyone’s nearby to listen, or if they’ve already witnessed this show you’ve put on yourselves—but you don’t care. you’re too busy cumming around his cock to think about that at the moment.

he slumps over you as he finishes at the same time you do, panting, and out of breath. you whimper and he shudders when he pulls out, cum oozing down the side of your leg—and you think he might just be glowing at the sight, grinning before he looks up and meets your gaze.

“how perfect,” he hums, “now you have a token to know i’m thinking of you during my performance.”

it’s show-stopping—that wink of his, charming and enough to make you throb between your legs all over again as he presses a sweet peck to your lips before adjusting his clothes.

you roll your eyes, opening your mouth respond before—

“lyney,” you hear lynette’s voice call from the distance, “what’s taking you so long? you have to be on soon.”

“be right there,” he calls, twirling his hat before setting it on his head, as he looks at you smugly, “i was just getting over my nerves, is all.”

girl bye id let him fuck me on stage too why lie

[probablyintensemuses]

I Miss You, I’m Sorry.

Armando Aretas x black!female reader

🎧- I miss you, I’m sorry- Gracie Abram’s

summary: in an attempt to guard his heart, Armando pushes you away. But how far is too far? And will he ever have a chance to tell you his true feelings?

themes: angst and fluff.

warnings: gore and blood, kidnapping and murder mentioned.

authors note: I’m still obsessed with Armando. The more I think of him, the more I wonder how broken he must be and how confused and overwhelmed he might feel. I hope it can be explored more in future films <3

Hot and iced coffee was passed around to everyone in the compound, everyone but Armando.

You passed them out with a smile, never once looking his way.

The avoidance was purposeful, he could feel it in the way chills spread wide throughout his chest, desperate for the warmth of your gaze.

But you never gave it to him.

And maybe that had something to do with last night.

How he’d gone too far for the last time.

Last night, Armando was in a mood, working late at the compound. You’d found him crushing the weights, pressing out every dreading thought lingering in his head.

Like always, you’d been attempting to talk to him, let him see that he wasn’t alone.

You had approached him just as he was re-racking his weights and heading over to the treadmill.

With a small smile, you handed him a sweat towel. “What’s on your mind?” You asked, gently.

Armando wiped his face with the towel, tossing it to the side. “Nothing.” He grumbled.

You sighed, crossing your arms. “I know you’re lying. You only stay this late and train this hard when somethings bothering you.”

Armando eyed you, the fury of his troubles—his mothers lies and manipulation, all the innocence he’s lost as he killed for her, only for his life and legacy to amount up to nothing—glazing behind his eyes.

“Don’t try your psychologist bullshit on me.” He grumbled.

You swallow. “It is my job.”

“Not with me it’s not,’ he sizes you up with his shirtless frame.

“Armando, that’s not what I’m doing. I’m just checking on you, making sure you’re okay.”

“What do you even know about me?”

You place a hand on his chest, fingers caressing his heart. Armando tries not to melt at the touch, wishing he wasn’t so starved for this kind of affection all his life.

“I know your heart, and I know it’s heavy, because we’re friends.” You say.

Armando grabs your hand, removing it from his chest, before his body decides to suddenly combust.

He lets out a low, resentful chuckle. Armando didn’t have friends. He couldn’t even trust his own blood, let alone some stranger like you.

He didn’t know why you continuously tried to look for the good in him.

There wasn’t any.

He was a cold, hearted killer. And no amount of hugs, smiles, or coffee runs would change that. He wished you’d stop, because he would only hurt you with expectations in the end.

“Who ever said we were friends?” Armando says, coldly.

You frown. “I just thought—,”

Armando presses the treadmills start button, rubber fills the air with a stench.

“I’m surprised you can think, because if you could, you would have notice that our relationship is one sided.”

You frown, clutching at the bottom of your skirt. “Armando, you don’t mean the things you’re saying.” You croak. “I know you don’t.”

Armando takes a step forward, his rising anger pushing you back into a punching bag.

Cornered, Armando leans into. “I mean every, fucking, word.”

You slip past the punching bag, shaking your head. “No.”

Armando can see the tears building in your eyes. His heart burns, but a deep breath snuffs out the flames.

“Yes. Now leave me the fuck alone and get the fuck out before I say something we both regret.”

Armando points to the door.

You bite your lips, salty tears leaking one by one against your warm brown skin.

Armando’s fist shake at his sides, wishing he could punch himself as he watches you leave.

He thought, like many times before you’d be over the spat. But he was wrong, because you still haven’t looked his way.

And he’d kill just to have one last glance at your eyes.

By the time lunch roles around, you and Armando still haven’t talked.

The silence was killing him.

So the moment you hit the corner, walking back from your lunch break, Armando grabs you up, pulling you into a quiet room.

“What the hell,” you push away from him. “Did you just kidnap me?”

“Kidnapping would require me to take you to a second location.”

You roll your eyes, walking towards the door. “Please move. I’m leaving for my prison sessions soon.”

“You still working there part time?” Armando questions. “It’s dangerous.”

You roll your eyes. “Maybe you should come visit for a session one day, considering your mental deficiencies.”

You attempt to leave, but Armando’s hand sticks out, blocking your exit. “You’re not going anywhere, not until you tell me your issue. Are you still mad about what I said last night?”

You pause, folding your arms over your chest. “I thought you wanted me to leave you the fuck alone?”

“So this about last night.’ Armando smacks his lips. “That’s petty.”

“Petty?’ You throw your keys and purse down. “More like downright disrespectful, Armando.”

“Do you want an apology or something?” Armando scoffs.

“No, actually, I came to terms with some things after I left you last night.”

Armando’s eyebrows raise. “Yeah, and what’s that?”

Your smile is crooked, hurt, and so unlike you. “That you were right last night, we aren’t friends.�� You grab your belongings and brush past him. “So let’s continue to act like it, yeah?” You slam the door shut behind yourself, leaving Armando more hallow than before you two had even spoke.

Armando rubs a hand over his face, his hands eventually finding their way to his hips as he lets out a loud sigh.

Had he made the right choice? Had everything he’d said last night been the truth?

Or was he just afraid of the possibility that his mother wasn’t the only one who could betray him? Or that one day you’d go against your gut and see that there was no light in him, at all, and all he’d do is snuff yours out if you got to close.

It wasn’t clear, the truth muddied by desire and fear, but maybe the space was safer for you in the long run. Neither of you could be hurt that way, anyhow.

May he should take you up on your offer and go for a therapy session.

Armando finds his way back inside the compound where he sees the team gathered around one of the large plasma screams, watching a large, bloody fight play out.

“What’s going on?” He asks, catching everyone’s attention.

The footage pauses and everyone remains silent.

Mike swallows, consoling Kelly as she wipes at the tears on her face.

“A riot broke out at the prison.” Dorn swallows hard. “And there’s not doubt that she’s been taken hostage by a patient of hers.”

Armando blinks, shaking his head. “Hostage?” He swallows, his throat drying up. “What the hell do you mean, hostage?”

“I mean the guards can’t find her anywhere in the prison and her office looks like a struggles taken place.’ Dorn sighs, taking a seat. “We can’t even get in contact with her.”

Armando’s fist curl up as he stalks over to Dorn with a fury. “Well you better keep fucking trying geek squad.”

Dorn stands, sizing Armando up. “You don’t think I’m trying. The place is a fucking dead zone right now, no one can get into anything!”

Mike slips between the two, asserting his weight and presence. Armando pushes against him, flashes of what could be your fate play in his mind. “Well try harder, we need her exact location.’ He turns, heading to the armory. “We leave in thirty.”

Kelly stands. “Hold on, leave and go where? We don’t have clearance there.”

Armando slams his hands against the cages guarding the Armory, sending a shock wave through the compound. “Listen here, I don’t give a shit about clearance, and neither should any of y’all. If it was any one of us in that situation, she wouldn’t hesitate, so we should do the same.”

The group is quiet before they join Armando in the armory. They work in heavy silence as they suit up, cleaning and checking their guns.

Armando’s mind reels and slips, imagining what could happen to you. You had no combat or weapons training in the fiel, your specialties lied in communications as a liaison officer for the department. You also oversee some of AMMO’s operations along side Rita.

Going back to school for a PHD in psychology was merely prideful, as you didn’t need too, leading you to work on a thesis in regards to the psychology and reform of prisoners, which is exactly why you were missing now.

If anything happened to you, Armando didn’t think his heart could handle the massive guilt of pushing you away last night and letting you leave today. If someone could grant him one last wish to cling onto you and never let you loose, he’d take it in a heartbeat.

“Armando,’ Mike says, his voice crashing over Armando’s thoughts like a wave. “You ready?”

Armando clocks his gun, shoving a knife into his pants pocket.

“Yeah.” He says.

Mike pats his shoulders. “We’ll bring her home, okay.”

Adrenaline didn’t allow for Armando’s pride to take control, he just nodded, following behind the team as they stepped out and began the pursuit to the hospital.

As the van nears the prison, kelly moves toward the back with an iPad in hand.

“When we get inside, Mike and I will coordinate with the other officers on sight to try and gather as many prisoners as possible. Dorn you’ll be air support with the drowns, and Armando you’ll find—,”

The van comes to a stop and Armando slings his gun around his body, adjusting it in his grip. “I know what I need to do.” He kicks the door open, rushing inside.

Armando slammed through the prison doors, doing a quick sweep of the halls before perusing down them.

The prison smelt of sulfur, gas and water leaking from the ceilings and floors as he walked past. He couldn’t believe this was a place you’d actively chosen to go to, no woman like you deserved to be here.

Armando pushed past a lot of broken cell doors and hiding prisoners, he was just about to turn the corner when a scream erupts from behind him.

Your scream.

His blood freezes over and his fingers clutch and sweat against his guns trigger.

What if he was too late?

What if you were hurt…or worse?

Panic carries him as he bounds down the hall until he reachers the only door.

He sweeps into the room, a large stage front and center, pointing his rifle at the front of the room.

You’re being held hostage by a man whose eyes are darkened and lust field. This must have been your patient.

Armando’s eyes sweep your body. Your cheek is scraped and bleeding blood, along with your forehead, smooshing curls to your face along with sweat and tears.

Your once white pant suit is soiled and bloody and your heels are long gone.

Armando just wants to shoot the man holding you, but he can’t, not without risking your life. The man holds a knife to your neck, pressing in and drawing blood, seeing Armando’s gun, he uses you as a shield.

“Back the fuck up!” He shouts. “Or I slice her open and spray us fucking both with her blood.”

Armando’s heat skips a beat at the thought. His mouth opens, the closes, he knows better than to negotiate as he couldn’t, he was used to just killing for these kinds of threats. But right now this man held the upper hand by holding on to you.

“Armando,’ you said, voicing weak and unsteady. “Leave us, okay.”

Armando shakes his head. “I’m not leaving you, not again.”

You whimper and your eyes shut, leaving tears to spill from them. Your cries alone were enough for Armando to drop a few rounds in this man, but he needed to be strategic. Something like you. He needed to try to use his words because maybe if he had used them earlier or last night he wouldn’t have anything to regret if this was the last time he’d see you alive.

Armando took a few steps forward. “What would make you let her go?”

The man shook, looking around frantically. “A way out of this fucking hell pit.”

Armando shook his head. “What if I said I could you that, off the books.”

The man swallowed, loosening his grip on the knife against your neck. “How? How could you possibly do that when this place is swirling with fucking cops!”

“The way I came in, there’s no cops stationed over there, so let’s make a deal.’ Armando drops his gun, letting it hang at his side. “You let her go and I get you out of here.”

The man narrowed his eyes. “Give me your gun.”

Armando frowned. “Why?”

The knife presses back into your throat and you scream out in searing pain. “So you can’t shoot me fuck head! Now give it to me heart eyes, or I cut her open.”

“Armando! No!”

Armando takes off his gun, placing it on the floor. “It’s okay, el cariño .’ He says. “I’m gonna slide it over at the same time you let her go, okay?”

Armando slides the gun across the room and the man loosens his grip, giving you enough space slip out of his hold.

You limp across the room and fall into Armando’s arms, he catches you with ease, holding you steady.

“¿Estás bien bebé?’ He questions, frantically pushing your curls away from your forehead. “¿Dónde te duele?”

You don’t respond, instead you pass out on his arms. Armando lifts you up bridal style. Heat boils through him at the thought of this man hurting you.

There was no way he was going to let him go now.

“Let’s go,’ the man says, clocking Armando’s gun. “Or it’s her fucking head, then yours.”

Armando walks you and the man towards the exit he came from, hoping to not run into any cops on the way.

His ears were buzzing, he needed a way to dead this situation without jeopardizing your safety anymore than it already was. That’s when he felt something searing in his pocket.

The knife.

Armando sat you down, tucking you against the wall behind a cell door.

“The fuck you doing!” The man shouted, jutting the gun at Armando.

Armando kneels over, pretending to be out of breath. “She’s heavy and I’m tired. I need a break.”

“Nah, muscle-head,’ the man’s says, putting the guns cold muzzle against Armando’s back. “There’s no time to be tired. If she’s too heavy, leave her and come back once you get me out of here.”

Armando smirked.

He’s just where he needed him.

In quick, trained motion, Armando whips his knife out. He turns, slicing the man’s wrist.

The man screams out in paid, dropping the gun. Armando uses his leg and sweeps his feet from under him, casing him to land on his ass.

The man clutches his wrist, crying out in pain. Armando takes no sympathy when he picks up his gun and shoots him thrice in the chest.

Armando scoops you up once more, calling into his coms.

“I’ve got her,’ he breaths. “Get a kit together, she’s pretty bad.”

Armando holds you tight as he walks you down and out of the prison. The warmth of the sun hitting your skin, the glimmer reminding him of just what he’ll never let go of again.

###

A stir shifts Armando awake.

His eyes open, blurry from the nights sleep before sharpening and focusing on you.

You sit up in your bed, holding your torso and groaning in pain.

Armando sits up, grabbing your arm and helping you reposition.

“How are you?” He asks, stuffing your pillows behind your back.

“Where am I?” You mumble, holding your head. You reach up and touch the bandages on your forehead, feeling a sharp pain spread, causing you to hiss.

“The hospital, you were hurt yesterday in the riot.” Armando says, taking your small hand in his larger one.

You nod, and Armando’s heart sinks when he feels you pull your hand from his.

“So what are you doing here?” You ask.

“I’m here with you.”

“Why?” You turn, glaring at him. “I thought we weren’t friends.”

Armando sighs. “Bebita, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“How else could you mean it, Armando?”

His hearts pace quickens, last time he didn’t use his words, he nearly lost you. He didn’t want to risk it and waste anymore time with you. “I was scared.”

“What?” Your voice cracks.

Armando grabs your hand, squeezing it. “I was scared to loose you. I was afraid you’d see how fucked up I am, and just when I thought I had you, you’ll see the monster I am and push me away.”

You shake your head, squeezing Armando’s hand. “No, listen to me,’ you take his face in your hands. “You’re not a monster. You were lied to and you’re hurting.”

Armando melts into your touch as you stroke his cheeks with your thumbs. “I see the good in you, and I’ll always be there for you. I promise.”

A tear slips from Armando’s eyes, the truth of your words bleeding into him through the warmth of your touch. “I’m sorry,” he says, nuzzling into your touch and kissing your palms. “Cariño, lo siento mucho.”

“It’s okay,’ you sniffle. “Come here.” You pull him towards you.

Armando leans in, the hospital bed groaning under his weight as he takes you into his arms.

Armando takes your face into his hands, titling your head, placing his lips onto yours. You two melt into each other, kissing away the physical and mental pain you both harbor.

“I missed you,’ he moans against your lips, holding you tight. “Te extrañé mucho bebé.”

You slip your hands into his hair, pulling him down and on top of you.

“I missed you too.’ Breathlessly, Armando shivers, pressing himself into you. “So never push me away again.” You say.

Armando sucks in a breath, taking in how breathtaking you look underneath him. “Sí, mamá, lo prometo.”

[tcubunny]

switch!tzuyu x switch!fem!reader - “trying our best” (warnings: smut, praise, breast play, scissoring, clit stimulation, oral)

a/n: thank u to my pookie @soyeonsbabygirl for proof reading 🤗 first time writing for tzuyu, kinda nervy. i’ve had this idea in my head from the second i thought up this au. small issue that we’re going to fix with our imagination, as always: let’s pretend jyp is strict on hotel rooms and if the company placed/booked/whatever-the-balls two specific members in a room, they HAVE to the be ones who share it🙏idk if i’m lying ab the switch tags bc i think that’s what’s happening, but idk tbh. maybe if i feel generous in the future ill write a fic about how her and the reader ended up getting caught and what their punishment was. for now, much love and enjoy pookabutts😘

word count: 1.8k

“goodnight you two, don’t do anything you know you’re not supposed to.”

jeongyeon warns and gives you and tzuyu a kiss before walking to the door and shutting it behind her.

you and tzuyu are the best girls for your unnies, you never get in trouble. your notoriously great behavior has fully merited their trust, yet letting you two share a hotel room still seemed risky. everyone insisted that being alone with each other would be too tempting, but there was nothing they could do about it.

you both promised—specifically to jihyo that you would sleep on separate beds, and wouldn’t try anything, and you plan to follow through on that promise.

“are you tired?” tzuyu’s voice bellows throughout the room. “i guess.” you get up and lock the door before walking to the other bed. “well, goodnight.” tzuyu turns off her bedside lamp and lays down, draping the covers over herself.

“goodnight.” you do the same as her and get comfortable. you close your eyes, trying your best to clear your head, but you’re far too hyper-aware of the fact that she’s right next to you. you really wouldn’t dare disobey the others, but it’s all you can think about.

the minutes rush by and you still can’t manage to fall asleep, completely immersed in your less than holy thoughts about tzuyu. you toss and turn, but nothing works.

“y/n, are you asleep?” you hear a murmur in the dark and turn to face tzuyu’s bed. “no.” there’s a few seconds of awkward silence before tzuyu speaks up again.

“i know we said we wouldn’t, but do you want to sleep with me? i just feel so isolated.” you think about it for a second, you desperately want to say yes, but you know you can’t. “tzuyu…”

“please, they won’t find out. the door is locked and they have no other way of checking on us.” she is correct, there’s no way they can find out unless they enter the room, which they can’t do if the door is locked. and you always lock the door when you’re in a hotel; it wouldn’t raise any suspicion.

“okay…” you get up and walk to her bed, hesitantly joining her under the covers. you turn away from her, too scared that you won’t be able to control yourself if you face her. you both say goodnight again and the deafening silence returns.

falling asleep is significantly more difficult now that tzuyu is right next to you. you can feel the warmth emanating off her body and you want nothing more than to turn around and kiss her. you can also feel your own warmth stretching from your flustered cheeks to your aching core.

“i can’t sleep.” you’re jolted out of your trance of sorts by tzuyu turning on the light. you turn to look at her and she sits up against the headboard, so you do the same. “me neither.” you reply, trying to hide your reddened face.

“i’m bored.” she says, tucking her hair behind her ears. “me too.” you look around the room, trying to think of something else to continue the conversation. “you think the others are asleep?” she exhales before answering. “let’s think critically here, none of them can keep their hands off each other.” you look down at the floor. “yeah…”

you both sit without saying anything. having her so close but not being able to touch her how you want is absolute torture. you bite down on your thumb as a weak attempt to distract yourself, but it doesn’t work in the slightest.

you look over at her, head tossed back on the bed frame, eyes closed, and arms inside her shirt. you’ve never been one to make impulsive decisions, but your desire for her completely takes over.

“tzuyu…” you call out, inching closer to her. “wha-“

you crash your lips into hers, cutting off her sentence. the kiss is slow and sends heatwaves straight to your core. her lips feel amazing, you swear you’ll never be able to separate from them. you let your tongue wander inside her mouth and she gladly takes it in. you entangle it with hers, lifting your hand to cup her face.

she pulls away and you whine in frustration. “we can’t.” her actions greatly differ from her words; she tugs the collar of your shirt towards her and continues kissing you.

“why not?” you repeat the pattern of pulling away and going right back to the heated kiss every time either of you speaks. “we promised.” “they won’t find out,” you pause your sentence to keep tasting her “like you said, the door is locked.”

it appears you’ve fully convinced her as she pulls you closer and makes you straddle her. you let your hands get lost in her hair as she grabs your face.

you can already feel a pool of slick collecting on your underwear while you’re squirming on her lap. the air in the room suddenly feels hot and your clothes start feeling like a burden.

“take off your clothes.” you instruct, getting up to do the same. you toss your things to the side, not caring where it lands. you watch as tzuyu rips everything off and crawls to the edge of the bed to sit.

you admire her body with a smirk before pushing her down and getting on top of her. the truth is, neither of you has any experience with being in control, but you’ll have to make do.

“you’re so pretty.” you whisper in her ear, moving your mouth down to her neck. “you’re so pretty.” you kiss her chest, making sure not to leave any new marks that the others could notice.

you gradually move lower until you reach her tits. you take one of the into your mouth and she lets out a loud moan. you slap your hand over her mouth to shush her.

“nayeon and jeongyeon are right beside us, do you really want them to hear?” you take your hand off and she brings her own hand to her mouth, urging you to keep going.

your mouth goes back to her tit, sucking and biting it gently. her choked moans make your pussy drip, you can’t wait any longer. you replace your mouth with your hand and tap on her thigh. “can you spread your legs?” “mhm.”

she does so and you swing one of your own legs over one of hers so that your pussy is directly aligned with hers.

you look into her eyes waiting for approval to go on, but she just pushes your hips down instead, making your soaked cunt collide with hers. you almost scream out from the feeling, but bite down on your finger to stop yourself.

you gyrate your hips, twitching slightly every time your clits touch. “you’re so fucking hot.” tzuyu coos from beneath you and pulls you down to her lips. you moan and whine into her mouth, trying to remain as quiet as possible.

you no longer care in the slightest about how many rules you’re breaking, the only thing on your mind is how amazing tzuyu sounds.

“you feel so good, tzu.” your sentence comes out hurried and broken, the feeling of tzuyu’s pussy on yours messing with your senses. “hm, thank you.” an inebriating smile adorns her lips as she responds. one of her hands remains placed on your hip, pushing you down against herself. you lean back, resting your weight on your hands as you brush your hair back.

“faster.” she hums while digging her nails into your skin. you whine at the feeling and speed up, making tzuyu reflexively thrust her hips up.

“shit, don’t stop.” her back arches as she pleads with you. “i wouldn’t do that to us both.” you giggle and bend down to meet her lips.

you can feel your muscles beginning to contract and hold onto tzuyu’s hand against the mattress.

“i’m so close.” you cry out and squeeze your eyes shut. “hm—me too.” hearing her weak whimper is all you need to reach your climax. you fiercely hold tzuyu’s hand as your hips shake, silencing your moans with her lips. you don’t stop until you see her body tense and she lets out a string of profanities with her orgasm.

when she completely finishes, you let yourself fall down on her chest, completely slumped. you both lay there panting without moving until your heart rates settle and you regain your composures.

“you’re incredible.” she traces your lips with her fingers and you look up at her. “i pay attention.” she laughs at you, pushing you off of her to get on top of you.

“it’s my turn to show you how well i pay attention.”

your eyes widen at her remark, you didn’t think she could sound any hotter, but somehow she does. she kisses down your neck, going past your chest and all the way to your stomach. she plants a kiss right above your core and your hips jerk forward.

she stands up and pats down the edge of the bed for you to sit. she then kneels in front of you, opening your legs with her hands. you can feel the slick pouring out of you, she looks absolutely ravishing on her knees for you.

she kisses your thighs as you stroke her hair with a smile on your face, completely drowning in how beautiful she looks.

she looks up at you and dips her tongue between your folds, already earning desperate moans from you. her tongue moves with great agility, sucking your clit and pushing into your entrance every time she passes it.

you give her feedback in the form of hushed whines and whimpers, still very aware of the people on the other side of the wall.

“does that feel good?" she asks in a sweet, innocent voice, the contrast between her actions and her inflection adding to your arousal.

you whine and arch your back slightly, pushing tzuyu’s face further into you. she chuckles as she lets go of your clit with an audible ‘pop.’

“y/n, answer my question.” she begs with the same tone and you look down at her, a dangerous glint painted on her eyes.

“hm,” your attempt at answering comes out as a moan and your cheeks redden as you feel tzuyu’s laugh against your pussy.

"i think,” you whimper into your own hand as she pushes her fingers inside you. “i think you can tell, ah fuck.” she mercilessly pumps her fingers in and out of you while her lips wrap around your clit.

it doesn’t take long for the edges of your vision to glow white, you orgasm hitting you without warning. you grab a fistful of tzuyu’s hair, holding her in place. she eagerly swallows every bit of sticky white fluid pooling out of you, allowing you to fully come back from your high.

you let go of her hair when you realize how hard you were holding onto it and she stands up. “i think i won.” she teases, coming closer to sit on your lap.

“oh, it was a competition? in that case, i think i’d like a rematch.”

[delfiore]

—ONE OF YOUR GIRLS.

pairing: lucy bronze x reader, (alexia putellas x reader)

synopsis: the only reason is simply because you are both heartbroken, lonely, and desperate.

word count: 1.9k

a/n: i gave myself a 1k word limit on this and i failed miserably. literally why is it so hard for me to write a 1k essay for school but not this

You started to learn Lucy’s routine only a few weeks after she started coming around. Like clockwork, it didn’t matter how late you went to bed, she would always be up before eight. Sometimes, it would be to go downstairs for a swim in the freezing cold outdoor pool in her apartment complex. “Helps me wake up and think clearer”, she would explain. Sometimes, it would just be to sit in the living room with a coffee in hand, watching videos of the team you and her would be playing later in the day. Other times—and it was always a treat when she did—it would be to stay in bed with you, and watch you wake up.

Those were the times in which you felt like what you had with Lucy resembled most like a relationship, due to the sheer amount of domesticity of it. The way she would take time out of the day to lay a few extra minutes with you made it feel concrete like what you were doing was worth the time. But that wasn’t the goal—a relationship.

“I forgot to bring my stuff last night,” you whispered, suddenly remembering the lack of gear you brought over to Lucy’s apartment. You had hastily stuffed the necessities into a crossbody bag when she texted.

“It’s alright. We can drive by later and pick it up on our way to training.”

“We’re gonna arrive together? What if people see?”

Everyone else at Barcelona didn’t know, of course, because you couldn’t even begin to explain what the fuck transpired between you two. It was no relationship, but it was no ordinary friendship either. A special kind of friendship, maybe, but not entirely the kind people would think of if you described it as such . . .

Lucy’s lips pursed, and she contemplated for a moment. After a few seconds, she turned towards the window, the morning sun washed white behind the milky blinds.

“I don’t really care, to be honest,” her chest rose quickly with an exhale. “Why have we got to explain ourselves to people anyway? Kinda tired of it.”

You knew she meant having to deal with the looks her ex would give her. She had been chasing after Keira, trying to make amends for a long time. You knew that, she told you everything.

It made you think about your own situation. You were still very much in love with your own ex, but Alexia has since moved on with a mutual friend, and your conversations were reduced to strictly work nowadays. The way she started treating you after the breakup wasn’t dissimilar to how an older teenager treats her younger, annoying little sibling; with avoidance and an overly sense of self-importance. It made you despise her ten times more than you already did, but you also yearned for her attention, because it was what you have aligned your life with for a while.

But you supposed you had a type—older women with avoidance issues—which was why you were here with Lucy.

“Keira asked me about you the other day,” you said on the car ride to the training ground. You sat in Lucy’s passenger seat. “She was wondering how you were doing. Said you never talk to her anymore.”

Lucy scoffed and turned back to you. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Like what?”

“Like how you actually look so fit in my shirt.”

You let the snort escape your nose but leaned towards her in the passenger seat. “It’s literally a plain black T-shirt, Luce.”

“‘Xactly,” Her cheeks creased with a grin. “Makes me almost want to fancy you.”

“Almost.”

“Almost,” Lucy said.

Almost.

You and Lucy have always had a friendship filled with banter. Heart-to-hearts rarely happened—maybe before and after important matches, or international ones in which one of you had to be the loser—but you appreciated her easygoing nature and how it has shaped your relationship.

If you were a bit closer in age, if you weren’t already with Alexia, and she with Keira at the same time, you reckoned you would have gone for her. You’d always found her attractive.

“You’re too young for me, Y/N,” Lucy had told you once.

“I’m just saying,” you had put your hands up. “If you’re ever desperate enough, I could be like one of your girls.”

Lucy only laughed. Perhaps desperate was the wrong word to use. Lucy Bronze could never get that desperate so as to seek you out for company. No, everything would have to be on her terms.

You agreed with her, though. A nine-year age gap might have been a bit too much, but Lucy wasn’t just like any other 32-year-old.

But you were in love with Alexia. You still were, and your coupling with Lucy might have just been a ploy to piss her off, but your captain didn’t need to know that. Just seeing the not-so-subtle looks she sends your way whenever you are too touchy with Lucy was enough to satiate your grudge.

It seemed the joke wasn’t merely a joke, not to Lucy, because one night, she called you. You had never seen Lucy cry, at least not in person, and she was the type of person to let people see her cry only for her profession, never something in her personal life.

Every joke on your tongue died the moment you saw her blotchy, red face at your front door.

“I didn’t know who else to call.”

Really?

She could have called anyone on the team and they would happily offer her comfort. That was the charisma that Lucy wielded, and you were willing to bet there were other members of the team who were much better than you at comforting someone.

“I think I’m just unlovable.”

You led her inside and offered her a glass of water. I think I’m just unlovable. Her words echoed in your mind as you scrambled to find any words that would be comforting to her at that moment. How do you convince someone that they weren’t their flaws when you yourself struggled with the same insecurities? If Lucy even had those doubts about herself, how could you ever get out of it?

“I think I’m unlovable too.”

You didn’t know whether that was comforting or just rubbing salt in her wound, but Lucy exhaled shakily, for the first time looking at you in a way unlike that of teammates, or even friends.

Unlike a friend would, you lifted your hand and wiped away the tear on her cheek with the pad of your thumb, and unlike a friend would, you leaned in and kissed her slowly.

Kissing Lucy was exhilarating. She was eager and rough, and soft and gentle. It made you almost want to fall in love with her. She was tired, so you climbed on her lap and led the way, and all her burdens faded into oblivion, at least for the night.

When you both arrived at training, only a few of your teammates were there in the locker room, and most of them didn’t seem to notice you coming in together anyway. Pina, though, found you across the room.

“Did you hear?” She said quietly.

“What?”

“Alexia has been with the physios since like 9 this morning.”

“Why? What happened?” You tried not to sound too eager, or worried.

“I don’t know, but I walked past and I think she was crying.”

When you came into the rehab center, a physio greeted you with a smile. You returned it as your eyes quickly found the only person lying down on a bed, hiding her face in the crook of her arm.

“Hey, capitana,” you said in Spanish. “You sleep here last night or something?”

You saw the way her jaw ticked, and looking down, noticed the bandages wrapped around her knee, the ACL one.

“You didn’t happen to bring any coffee in, did you?” She said groggily. “I could use a sip.”

“No coffee, sorry. I’m trying to wean myself off of it.”

“You said that a thousand times before.”

You put your hands in your pockets and leaned against the bed. “What’s wrong?”

She let out a sigh and removed her arm. “They’re making me sit out Saturday’s game. They’re scared I might mess something up.”

You nodded, because you understood exactly why. Another ACL problem would be detrimental to her career in ways that you didn’t want to think about. “It’s better to be sure,” you shrugged.

“I’ve fucked my knee, Y/N,” Alexia said, inhaling shakily. “That’s what it is.”

You couldn’t imagine having to live with the anxiety, tiptoeing around your own knees, afraid it might give out any second again. Even the smallest discomfort could spell trouble, and the slightest movement could trigger the injury to worsen.

You opted not tell Lucy about your conversation with Alexia, because you wanted to keep it to yourself. As useless as that might be, that was the first genuine conversation you’ve had with your ex in about a year. You’ve learned not to take it to heart, though, because you knew you’d disappoint yourself when Alexia eventually goes back to treating you like a kid.

You made a conscious effort not to think about her when you called Lucy over for a hookup, but when she was knuckles-deep inside you, you couldn’t think of anything else but the pleasure.

Laying back and staring at the ceiling, you drew deep breaths as you came down from your high.

“You okay?” Lucy asked.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Hold me?”

She smiled and gathered you in her arms before kissing you sweetly. “Did something happen with Alexia?”

“No.” Nothing happened, really, but maybe it was because nothing happened that made you so distraught. “Maybe in another universe, where you’re not you and I’m not me, I would take you on a date tomorrow, maybe we’d be happier.”

“Well, why won’t you do it in this universe?”

You shrugged and settled back against her chest. “Because I’m me and you’re you. But mostly, because I am me.”

Lucy didn’t answer. She knew as much as anyone that once you’ve made your mind up, there was no swaying it, and that she didn’t have the energy in her to either. Instead, she leaned down and planted a sweet kiss on your forehead, wishing you’d find it in you somewhere to see yourself the way she sees you.

It would take some time until then, though, as only a few weeks later, she saw you hand-in-hand with Alexia coming to practice. Apparently, Alexia’s girlfriend was no more and you got what you wanted. It was okay, though, because Lucy found comfort in Ona, about to go on a second date with her the next day. You might have almost gotten the love you’d always desired with her, but it was just that, an almost.

[rynwritesstuff]

Unknown - Part Two

Billy The Kid x Reader

Warnings: Smut (PIV sex, unprotected sex, brief dirty talk, no female orgasm), softness, TW: attempted assault (NOT by Billy), misogyny, murder, comfort/fluff, confessed feelings, happy ending <3

Word Count: 2.5k

Summary: You and Billy find yourselves in a dangerous situation, which causes feelings to surface.

Read part one here!

“Do you know I could break beneath the weight of the goodness, love, I still carry for you? That I’d walk so far just to take the injury of finally knowing you?” - Unknown/Nth, Hozier

Billy is, to say the least, annoyed with you. Traveling with someone for nearly two weeks will do that, you figure. You let him talk to you as you gather wood for a fire. You’re silent while he rants, going on and on about how his body aches, and how hungry he is, and how desperately he just wants to find another town. You don’t respond, and this only irritates him further. 

“Say something!” Billy says. You glance at him. He doesn’t often become angry like this, you’ve come to realize, but when something sets him off . . . He gets pissed. 

“Jesus, what the hell d’you want from me, Antrim? I’m just getting wood, minding my own damn business, and you–” 

“I don’t know! I don’t know, you’re the one who wanted to come this way! Why haven’t we found anything? We’re running out of food!” 

You shake your head. 

“We have at least two days’ worth.” 

“And when we go through that? Hm? What then?” 

“Then we hunt, Antrim. We adapt, we make do.” 

“You know that there’s not much to hunt out here. We both know that,” he says, following you around. You crouch down to start a fire. Sometimes his age shows during moments like this one. He’s still a kid, still so angry at the world and the cards he’s been dealt. You sigh. 

“Then, fuck, I don’t know,” you snap. “I don’t know, okay?”

He scoffs, pulling his hat off and tugging at his hair. 

“Fuck,” he huffs as he turns away. You get the fire going, then stand and turn to him. His eyes don’t meet yours. You pull on his suspenders. 

“Look at me,” you say firmly. He does. You sigh. “We’re gonna be fine. You need to pull yourself together. I know you’re mad, Antrim, I am too, but we can’t lose our heads. Got it?”

He swallows harshly. He likes it when you talk to him like this, when you re-ground him. You’re the anchor to his ship, the light that shines through the fog in his mind. He glances at your lips. You know what he needs, now. He needed to be snapped at, and now he needs to let go. 

It’s been a few days since the two of you were last sexually active, and when you look into Billy’s eyes, they are dark. You give his suspenders another tug, your chests nearly touching.  “I said, you got it?” you repeat. He nods. 

“Yes,” Billy says quietly. “I got it. ‘M sorry–” 

“Don’t be,” you say, shaking your head. “There’s no point.”

You let go of his suspenders and instead rest your hands on his firm chest. You can feel his heart racing, beating quickly, and you know it’s because of you. Maybe, if you’re lucky, it’s for you. 

His arms hang at his sides, and you take hold of his wrists and guide them to your hips. He holds you firmly as you reach back up to touch his shoulders and chest. 

“Tell me what you need,” you say, even though you already know. You want to hear him say it. 

“You,” Billy tells you. “Whatever you’ll give me.”

You smile softly. He’s handsome. Dreamy. 

“You know you’ve got me, Billy,” you say. He kisses you, then. It is firm, and his lips are chapped and rough. You sigh quietly, gripping his collar and pulling him closer. He knows how you like this: Rough, quick and dirty. Secretly, though, part of him hopes that he’ll one day get to make love to you, not just fuck you.  He wants to know you deeply. Not just your body, but your mind. He knows what kinds of things you like to eat, and he knows that you don’t like rising with the sun, and he knows that you’re unfathomably stubborn, but . . . It’s not enough. He needs to know what your dreams are. Do you want children? A house? A man? Will you long for freedom for the rest of your life, or would you one day settle for the right person? 

He needs to know where your parents were from, and what your favorite toys were when you were small, and how you like your tea. Small things. Big things. Well . . . He supposes that all things are ‘big things’ when it comes to the way he thinks of you . . .

You push his suspenders from his shoulders as the two of you kiss, then reach down to press your hand against his clothed erection. He grunts softly at the slight friction, and moves his hips forward. He says your name, quiet and desperate, and you nod. 

“Take me,” you tell him, taking a small step back to remove the clothes from the bottom half of your body. While you do this, Billy pulls his cock free from his trousers. You get down in the grass, and Billy easily gets on top of you, fitting himself between your legs. You cup his cheeks and kiss him, desperate for his touch. You tug on his hair. 

“Need you, Billy,” you breathe. And oh, how Billy loves to see you like this: Vulnerable and open and ready for him. He nods. 

“I know,” he says, pushing his leaky tip against your core. You groan as he eases himself inside of you. He stretches you perfectly. You’re so wet, and he’s got precum dribbling from his cockhead, and the feeling of it makes him grunt. He takes your hands in his and pins you down like that. He’s been doing this more and more often, you’ve noticed. You smile softly, the softness of the moment lasting only for a second before he begins to rock his hips back and forth. You cry out as his cock rubs the sweet spot deep inside of you, your grip on his hands tightening. 

“Billy!” you moan. “Ohhh f-fuck . . .”

Your body bounces beneath him, and he groans at the sight.

“Fuck . . . Such a good girl,” he breathes, voice shaky and quiet. His words go straight to your aching core, and you clench around him just to hear the choked sound that he makes. You smirk. 

“Y-Yeah? You needed this, didn’t you, Billy?” 

He nods. 

“Uh huh.” 

“How bad? H-How bad did ya n-need me?” 

“O-Oh, fuck . . .” he groans. “So b-bad . . . Mmm . . .”

You nod, tilting your head back. Billy takes the bait and leans down to suck and nibble at your throat. You sigh at the feeling. He continues to hold your hands, keeping you gently pinned to the ground. 

“Takin’ me so well,” Billy breathes. You hum. 

“You’re close already?” you ask shakily, the pleasure in your core building as he sucks at your skin. He grunts. 

“H-How did you–?” 

“You’re – mm – getting s-sloppy,” you breathe. You turn your head and capture his lips with yours. He chuckles against you, moving his hips faster. 

“G-God . . . Fuck . . .” Billy groans. You squeeze his hands. 

“Cum f’me, Billy,” you tell him softly. “C’mon . . . W-Wanna see it . . .” 

He nods, then quickly pulls his cock from your heat and jerks himself off above you. With a drawn-out moan, Billy cums, his seed covering your rising and falling stomach. You sigh at the sight, and when he finishes, he tilts his head back. You smile, leaning up on your elbows. 

“So handsome,” you tell him, gesturing for him to come closer. He does, and you put your hand on the back of his head to pull his lips against yours. You sigh as you kiss him. 

“Mm. That felt good,” you tell him. Billy smiles at the praise. 

“I’m glad,” he says. You wipe his seed from your stomach, then shakily get to your feet and re-dress while Billy tucks himself away and adjusts his clothing. You sigh once the two of you are both righted. 

“Feeling better?” you ask, stepping back towards the fire to warm your hands. He sits down beside you. 

“A bit,” he says. He sighs, then looks over at you. He admires you, taking in your features in the dim, flickering light. 

“Good,” you say. “If you need something like that, all you havta do is ask, you know.” 

Billy nods. 

“I know.”

Silence lingers between the two of you for a handful of minutes. 

“Do you want to eat?” Billy asks you. You shake your head. 

“I’m not really hungry.” You yawn. “I think I’m gonna rest.” 

Billy nods. 

“Alright.”

He watches you rise and pull the blanket from his saddle bag. You lay it down, then get comfortable on top of it. Billy looks away as you close your eyes to sleep. You’re so beautiful, he thinks. He’s never not going to think so. 

You fall asleep quickly, dozing off easily knowing that Billy is here to keep you safe and watch over you. 

***

The sound of skin hitting skin is what wakes you. A groan follows, and you hum softly as you sit up a bit, glancing around in confusion. 

Another hit, another groan. 

You look over, and your stomach drops when you see a strange man standing over Billy. Billy tries to fight back, tries to get swings in, but the man is bigger, stronger. Another man stands beside the first one, and as quietly as you can, you begin to reach down into your pocket where a small pocketknife sits. 

Adrenaline pumps through you. The second man notices you, and he nudges his friend, the one punching Billy. 

“Lookit,” he says, pointing at you. They both look over, and you let out a shaky breath. Billy is yanked to his feet as one of the men storms towards you. You scramble to get away, but he’s already on you, pulling you up. You struggle to get away, kicking and thrashing, but he wraps his arm around your throat and holds you in place. You gasp, your air suddenly being almost completely cut off. Billy watches in horror. 

“Don’t,” he says and blood drips from his nose. The man near Billy has a knife to his throat, which keeps Billy from moving or making an attempt to rescue you. “We have money, take that instead.” 

The man holding onto you hums, running his free hand over your chest as you claw at his arm, trying to breathe. 

“How could we pass up such a pretty little thing?” the man says, squeezing your breast. You hiss, trying to stomp on his foot. Billy tries to break away, but the knife is pressed harder against his throat, drawing a bit of blood. He yelps. 

“Stop!” Billy exclaims desperately. “Don’t touch her!” 

“Oh, I’ll do more than touch her,” the man says, suddenly shoving you to the ground. You groan, gasping for breath. He’s on you before you can try to run, and he yanks at your trousers. Without thinking, you shove your hand into your pocket and pull out your pocketknife. In a swift movement, you reach around and shove it into the man’s side. He cries out loudly, and you pull the knife out and plunge it back in again and again. 

Seconds after you do this, Billy catches the other man off-guard and pulls his gun on him. The man takes off without a word, knowing that a knife is nothing against a gun. You cry out as you stab the man repeatedly. He groans in agony, blood soaking his clothing and yours just the same. Billy rushes to you, grabbing your arms gently and pulling you away. 

You’re trembling, head spinning and heart pounding. You try to break away. 

“It’s me, it’s me,” Billy says quickly, pulling you into his arms as the man writhes on the ground. You turn, clinging to Billy’s shirt tightly.

“I-I . . .” 

“I know,” he breathes as you shake against him. He holds you, one hand between your shoulders and the other on the back of your head. Tears fill your eyes. 

“Billy,” you breathe. It’s all you can think to say. Billy’s head throbs, nose still gushing blood, but he can’t bring himself to care. He’s never seen you so afraid, so shaken, and it breaks his heart. You didn’t deserve this. 

“I’m so sorry,” he says. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?” 

You let out a soft cry. You can’t even bring yourself to answer. The man groans and shakes in front of you and Billy, and Billy shields your eyes. He has half a mind to shoot the bastard in order to shut him up, but his cries die out steadily. The life drains from his eyes as he loses more and more blood. 

You let out a shaky breath. 

“Are you alright?” Billy asks again softly, cupping your cheeks and tilting your head up. Your bottom lip quivers. 

“Yeah,” you breathe. “I . . . Yes. I think so.” 

He nods. 

“You’re alright,” he reassures you. “You’re safe.” 

Guilt is eating away at him. He should have done something. He should have shot the men right away, he should have fought his way out of it to protect you. His grip on you tightens slightly. You let out a shaky breath. 

“Are you okay?” you ask, wiping a bit of blood from his face. He nods even though he isn’t, not really.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” he tells you. You nod, then glance back at the dead man beside the fire. You look away, burying your face against Billy’s chest. 

“We should go,” you breathe. He nods. 

“I know.”

Neither of you move. Billy presses a kiss to the top of your head. God, he was so scared. He isn’t sure what he would have done with himself if the man had taken you. He’s glad he won’t have to know. You wrap your arms around Billy’s middle and let out a shaky breath. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t do more,” Billy says finally. You pull away slightly and look up at him. You shake your head. 

“He had you cornered, Antrim,” you say softly, shaking your head. “There wasn’t much you could’ve done.” 

You lean in and kiss his cheek. 

“It’s alright. We’re alright.” 

He nods, letting out a shaky breath. 

“I’m always gonna do my best to protect you,” he says. “I’m sorry that I–” 

“Stop apologizing,” you say quietly. “Please. It’s alright. I’m alive, you’re alive, we’re okay–”

“I care about you," Billy says quickly. You pause. “I . . . I care about you. I’d die if somethin’ happened to you.”

You search his face. He means it. Oh, god . . . He means it. 

“Billy . . .” He swallows harshly and looks away. You cup his cheek and tilt his head up so he’s looking at you again. “I care about you, too.” 

A small, barely-there smile tugs at the corner of Billy’s mouth. 

“You mean it?” he asks. You nod. 

“You know me, Billy. I wouldn’t lie.” 

His smile widens, and he kisses you gently. You hum against his mouth.  “I know.” 

[daydreams-after-dark]

You are dressed up in your short, tight, stretchy black dress and the sluttiest shoes you own. As you finish your makeup in the bathroom of your shared apartment, you decide last minute to shimmy your panties off. You step out of them, kick them to the side and then smooth your dress down over your bare ass. You want to give Minsung easy access because you are in a mood - a horny mood.

Actually, you realise you don’t really feel like going out. You’d rather have yourself and your two lovers stay home and fuck. But the boys had insisted, apparently it is going to be an important social occasion, or something.

You try your hardest to be a “good girl” and bite your tongue and not nag to go home, but you just can’t help it. You complain about your shoes hurting. You complain that they aren’t trying to feel you up like they normally do. You complain that they keep looking at other women too much.

“Will you just fucking give it a break?” Minho hisses, tugging your hair to bring your ear close to his mouth.

Later on, when you are sitting next to Han at a table, he slides a hand up between your legs, discovering you aren’t wearing any underwear. He is livid. “Baby! Where the fuck are your panties?How many people have you let see up your skirt tonight, hmm?” He growls.

You shrug “I don’t know. Maybe they’ll give me some attention if they catch a glimpse, instead of pretending I’m not here, like you and MInho have been doing.” You pout.

That’s it. You’ve gone too far. They are fucking PISSED! They can’t you out of there quick enough. You sit in the back of the car as they drive home wordlessly. You can feel your wetness sticking to your inner thighs in anticipation.

They pull you into the apartment and drag you into the bedroom.

“On your knees. Leave your slutty shoes on.” Minho says sternly.

You drop to your knees as the men unbuckle their belts and remove their clothes entirely.

“You just couldn’t shut the fuck up tonight, could you, baby?” Han sneers as he tilts your chin up. “I think we need to make sure you can’t speak for the rest of the night, don’t you agree, Minho?” He adds.

“Yep! She needs her mouth stuffed with cock. That’s what she needs.”

They both move in towards you, their fully erect cocks aimed at your face, and you can hardly wait.

“You know, MInho,” Han whispers. “Our little slut isn’t wearing panties. She thinks we’re gonna fuck her desperate little hole.” He laughs.

Minho looks amused. “Really?” He raises and eyebrow. “Show us.”

You slowly hike your dress up so it resembles some sort of tank top, exposing your lower half.

“Fuck, you’re a needy brat.” He shakes his head.

Han prods your lips with the tip of his dick. “Open up for me, baby.” He sucks a breath through his teeth as you take him into your mouth. He doesn’t let you adjust to him, he just grabs the back of your head to hold you still as he fucks into your mouth. You splutter and gag. He is moving too rough and too deep. You love it though. He pushes all the way into your throat, holding your head against his pelvis. When he can sense you need to catch your breath, he pulls out just enough for you to take another breath and then he slams right into your throat again. But Han being Han, he starts to lose himself to the moment and starts to fuck your face erratically, almost manically.

“Yeah, fucking take it baby….You sound so sexy choking on me like this… Look at all that drool running down your chin…. Your mascara looks so fucking slutty running down your cheeks like that. Such a filthy mess.” He throws his head back as he shoots his cum down your throat.

“Show us the cum on your tongue.” Minho instructs. You open your mouth showing them all of Han’s cum.

“Don’t swallow it.” Minho adds as he pushes his cock into your mouth now. “Fuck!” He cries out as his dick slides so smoothly in your wet mouth where your saliva and Han’s cum have mixed together to make a sloppy mess.

“That’s it, kitten…You’re gonna fucking take everything we give you tonight…This is what your mouth is made for, not fucking complaining like you have all night long.” Minho’s pace is brutal and harsh. You are not sure how you are taking his entire cock like this. He pulls it out almost the whole way and slams it back in. Over and over. Your pussy is just as wet and messy as your mouth and you wish one of them would fuck you already.

You feel Han’s cock against your cheek now, and you reach up and stroke it with your hand. He’s hard again and ready to go.

Minho pulls out and makes you open your mouth so he can milk himself onto your waiting tongue. “Okay. Swallow everything.” You do and then open up so they can see your empty mouth.

“Good, she’s ready to start again.” Han says excitedly.

They move you around now, laying you on your back with your head hanging off the edge of the bed. In this position they can get even deeper into your throat. You feel a pair of hands around your neck, squeezing so they can feel your throat working around their cock.

It’s now you start to lose track of time and who’s cock is in your mouth. They keep taking turns, sometimes swapping before they cum, other times they coat your mouth with their semen. Even once or twice, you feel one of them blow their load on your tits.

Your face is an absolute mess. The sounds coming from your mouth are obscene. Your pussy aches to be touched. They haven’t even touched you. The agony makes you whine.

“Aww baby, you really want your other holes filled don’t you?” Han taunts.

“She can’t answer you now, her mouth is too full of cock…Doesn’t it sound good when she can’t nag?”

Eventually, they can’t get their dicks up anymore, and they carefully lift you up and take you to the shower. They gently wash your body and your face, then lay you on the bed, where they each take turns going down on you.

They slowly eat you out and fuck you with their fingers, making you come five times (Han is pleased with himself that he got one more out of you than Minho). They caress and worship your body for what feels like hours, and snuggle you until you drift off to sleep.

@noellllslut I’ve moved your ask over to this blog because, well… I think it fits the theme.

@weareapackofstrays @channieandhisgoonsquad

[stormysprite]

My first fanfic! I wanted to start out with a fluffy (and maybe a little crack-y?) oneshot featuring the lu boys. Link to the AO3 coming once my account gets approved later this week!

✨Magical Placeholder for Title Until I Figure It Out✨

Warriors stared down the strategy map, rubbing the pebble that represented him between his fingers. He’d battled unlikely odds before, but this was a whole new level of hopeless.

He had to try. For the sake of his brothers, he had to try.

“Captain?” Sky asked, fiddling with his sailcloth. “Are you sure we shouldn’t get the old man?”

“He’s compromised. Always has been for missions like this, he’s just better at hiding it now. We’re certain Hyrule can’t swim?”

“He shrieked when Wild went waist deep into the lake a few months ago,” Four said from Warriors’s other side. “I don’t think anyone in Hyrule’s world knows how to swim.”

That complicated things. Hyrule would be one of the most resistant to their plan, and they couldn’t just throw him in. Warriors considered using Legend to coax Hyrule into the water, but the veteran seemed to have a thing against water. Probably another secret. Legend seemed to have a lot of those.

Warriors rubbed between his brows. He sighed and looked up at the pine trees surrounding their campsite. He’d convinced everyone except Sky and Four—the only Heroes who would accept his desperate plan—to forage or collect firewood elsewhere. That had been an hour ago. They were out of time for finding other solutions.

“All right,” he said. “We’ll have to keep Hyrule in the shallows, then. Four?”

Four grinned, teeth glinting in the sunlight.

“Way ahead of you, Captain.”

Warriors nodded and turned to Sky. The Chosen Hero had already grabbed his gust bellows and gave him a grim nod.

“Good,” Warriors said. “There’s just one other part of our problem to solve.”

He placed his own pebble next to the river on the map and picked up the miniature wolf Sky had carved the other day.

“Not it,” Four and Sky said at the same time.

“I didn’t even—” Warriors turned from the map. Both his brothers had their fingers on their noses. The captain huffed. 

“Fine. I’ll wrestle the wolf. But you both are on laundry duty for this.”

“Small price to pay,” Four said.

“Yeah, I like my fingers right where they are.” Sky drummed his digits on the bellows with an apologetic smile. Warriors shook his head.

“Just get into position. Remember, quick and precise. We can’t afford mistakes.”

Four nodded. Coming from anyone else, Sky’s salute would have been sarcastic, but Warriors knew his fellow knight meant it. They both left, and the operation was on. Warriors took a deep breath, rolled up the map, and got his supplies from his pack.

He crept to the stream near their campsite, past the spot where Four had laid out everyone’s armor under the guise of repairing it later tonight. Good. Nothing would rust this way.

He crouched behind a bush near the shore and laid out his supplies. Three brushes for different hair textures, a pile of rags, a larger pile of fluffy towels, and the largest bottle of soap he’d ever seen. They hadn’t stayed in his world long enough to drag everyone to a bathhouse last week, but at least he’d had time to stock up. He lined up a smaller bottle of conditioner next to the brushes. Far as he knew, he’d be the only one interested in it.

A shout echoed across the forest. Phase One had begun.

Warriors grabbed the soap and squeezed a thick thread into the almost-still water. He wished he had one of Wild’s Korok leaves to stir, but a large stick he found near shore would have to do. He frothed the soap until a thick layer of foam sat on the water. Good thing Sky had offered to build a dam downstream so the soap wouldn’t wash away.

The lavender and eucalyptus soap floated into Warriors’s nose, making him relax. Another shout—no, that was a howl—jerked him into action. Four’s part of the plan must have worked. How the smithy knew what would provoke Twilight into transforming, Warriors had no idea. He didn’t want to know. Plausible deniability in case Twilight got mad. Warriors shuddered and returned to the bush.

Another howl. Footsteps racing.

Closer.

Closer.

Wheezing, Sky tore into the clearing. He spotted Warriors, nodded, and lined up with his back to a tree. Sky pointed his gust bellows at the water. No one approaching the stream would see him.

“Cheatin’ bilge rat!” Wind sprinted into the clearing after Sky, Legend and Hyrule just behind. “You’re shark bai—”

Sky turned on his gust bellows.

Wind screeched and flailed headfirst into the stream. Hyrule tumbled after him. Legend figured out what was going on and activated his pegasus boots, running against the gust. Sky’s bellows blew stronger. Legend lost his footing and splashed into the stream.

Warriors covered his mouth to hold back a snicker.

Three heads popped up from the water. Hyrule looked panicked. Legend looked torn between holding up Hyrule and dragging Sky in with them. Wind looked murderous.

The sailor lunged up to grab Sky’s ankle, but Sky gusted until Wind fell back into the stream.

“You yellow-bellied, lily-livered, octo-brained seagull splat!” Wind yelled, but Warriors could hear him covering up a laugh.

“I have no idea what any of those words mean,” Sky said with a grin and an extra puff of air in Wind’s face.

Wind sucked in a breath, probably to ‘educate’ Sky. Another howl and a high-pitched, unheroic scream cut him off.

“Sky!”

Four tore into view and tossed Wild’s Sheikah Slate to Sky before jumping into the water. Wild burst from the bushes and dove after Four with a splash. Wolfie raced after them, skidding to a stop before the shore. He took a step back and looked around.

Come on, Twilight. Just a little closer.

Four burst above the surface, only for Wild to tackle him deeper into the stream. Warriors had only seen that look on Wild’s face once—right before disintegrating the iron knuckle that had downed Twilight.

Maybe Warriors had miscalculated his plan.

“Wild! Wild, stop—” Four spluttered, treading water while stopping Wild from dragging him to the bottom. “The Slate’s fine. Sky has it, look.”

Sky flinched as Wild turned his glare onto him, but the Chosen Hero waved the Sheikah Slate to prove Four’s point. Grumbling, Wild swam back to the edge and made grabby hands for his prized item.

“Give it.”

Sky held the Slate out of reach, putting it at the base of a tree.

“You can have it back after your bath. The Captain can’t stand our smell anymore.”

Caught in the moment, Warriors stood up from his hiding place to argue how that wasn’t what he’d said—he’d thought it, but hadn’t said it—before realizing he’d blown his cover. Warriors caught Wolfie’s eye. Wolfie bolted.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Warriors lunged for Wolfie and shoved his shapeshifting brother toward the water. Wolfie stumbled, but didn’t fall in.

How was Twilight heavier in this form?

A burst of wind from Sky pounded against Warriors’s back, pushing the wrestling captain and wolf closer to the stream. Wolfie dug in his claws and growled. Warriors pushed against the wretched-smelling mound of dog with all his strength, but Wolfie didn’t budge.

A splash was all the warning he got before five sets of hands shot out of the water, grabbed Wolfie, and pulled him in. Warriors sailed through the air and hit the stream, water and bubbles shooting up his nose. He broke the surface, coughing and spluttering. Eucalyptus burnedthrough his sinuses.

When he could finally see and breathe again, he cackled at the sight in front of him.

Wolfie squirmed as Wild and Legend kept him from swimming to shore. A cloud of mud surrounded the rest of the Heroes, mostly coming from the wolf. Wind scrubbed soap into the fur. Four rubbed Wolfie’s paws, freeing wads of muck jammed between the pads. Hyrule clung to Wolfie’s back and made bubble hats for the wolf. 

Warriors had never seen the mighty beast so undignified.

Wolfie whimpered. A chime sounded and black flecks started to swarm around him.

“Oh, no you don’t.” Legend bopped Wolfie on the nose. The black flecks disappeared, and Wolfie growled. Hyrule added a pompom to Wolfie’s bubble hat. “Your smell’s going to attract monsters if you don’t clean up this version of yourself. Honestly, your fur crackles.”

“And it reduces the risk of us getting sick,” Warriors said as he waded toward the group. He shot a dirty look at Sky, dry and giggling on the shore. “Which is the real reason I organized this.”

“Did you have to throw us in?” Wild asked.

Warriors shrugged and rubbed soap into Wild’s hair. If his brothers were going to focus solely on scrubbing Twilight, Warriors could make sure everyone else got clean, too. Wild melted under the touch and almost lost hold of Wolfie.

“We needed to do laundry, too. This hits two ChuChus with one arrow. Besides, would you have taken a bath if I’d asked nicely?”

Wild shook his head, but caught sight of something on shore and grinned. Warriors followed his gaze and felt his eyes grow wide.

Time loomed behind Sky, who hadn’t noticed him yet. Sky squeaked as Time picked him up and hurled him at the other Heroes. All eight of them plunged under, legs, arms, and one tail tangling together. They finally surfaced, Hyrule still using Wolfie as a raft. Everyone piled on Sky to make sure he got as drenched as the rest of them.

“Stop,” Sky said between giggling and failing to push them away. “That—that tickles!”

Which was the worst thing to tell a group of Links, Warriors thought. Chaos and mayhem were vital parts of the Hero’s Spirit. Even Warriors splashed suds on Sky after that comment. After all, Sky had a great laugh.

A shadow blocked out the sun, too sudden and dark to be a cloud. Warriors looked up.

Oh.

Oh, no.

He’d definitely miscalculated.

Time cannonballed straight for them.

Later that night, while they dried off and teased each other over dinner, Warriors admitted he screamed like a little girl. If only because his seven other brothers did the exact same thing. 

[weaselle]

@biggyb I wanted to answer you and then it became so much that i felt it needed to be it's own post.

So, if it was enacted on a large or ubiquitous scale, that is absolutely a concern, that if everybody had more money prices would just increase, rendering the UBI useless.

what would we do about that?

One the one hand that is basically already what happens anyway, which is why cost of living increases etc are a thing. And on the other hand there are a few mechanisms that can curb that, things like rent control laws.

But ultimately, personally, i believe the real answer is to remove the money aspect and provide the basic necessities directly.

When we say UBI we’re basically talking about the government giving us money (which has to come from somewhere, and that probably means some kind of progressive wealth tax, which is really just wealth redistribution at that point but whatever)

Anyway I believe it would be more effective for the government to provide those things directly (but not exclusively). I believe the baseline for society is everybody has free access to:

HEALTHCARE

All forms of healthcare (this is an important one, the very best we can do should be available to anyone who needs it, with no conditions, no barriers to entry like complicated paperwork, if you need health care you should get it, period.

INFORMATION

This means a free press, and education, true, but i also mean internet access, which at this point in our society i think is necessary for equality

NUTRITION

So, not just food, but a complete diet. This can still be very basic, little more than rice and beans, with medical exemption options of course, but it can be enough that it is the bare minimum food types, maybe rice beans and a couple types of dark green veggie and a couple types of vitamin C fruit. Possibly eggs or peanuts or something. Nothing fancy, just good quality ingredients that contain enough nutrition to keep you not only alive but fully healthy. And i think this should be provided in both raw ingredient form and cooked form.

CLOTHING

This one gets overlooked a lot, but kids need shoes, and struggling people need blankets and jackets, and everybody needs access to clothes, actually. Again, can be very basic, maybe government issued overalls, socks, jackets, blankets, and some kind of cheap tennis shoes would be most of it, but everybody needs access to clothes.

And finally HOUSING

So for example, the government would build apartment complexes that were just freely available to the public, first come first serve, you sign for it and the apartment is yours until you give it up or take another apartment.

We already have our government building and running public schools and libraries, we just need to upgrade those a bit. We already have governments building and running hospitals, we just need to do a lot more of that a lot better and get these private insurance companies to fuck off.

And then we just need to provide the clothes, open the Food Distribution Centers and build the housing.

Because then it won’t be money, so you don’t have to worry about the prices of everything going up because everybody has more income, which you are correct, is a concern. So just provide those things directly.

This is much less like taking money from the super wealthy and putting it into the bank accounts of everyone else, and much more the way taxes are supposed to work taking money from those that can spare it and using it to build a society that is better for everyone - even improving things for those super wealthy people (who now at the very least get to walk around safer from the sick and the homeless and the desperate - i mean violent crime alone would probably do whatever the opposite of sky-rocket is. Ground-dive.)

And people will still get jobs and spend money! Like, just because you provide government overalls, doesn’t mean people will stop wanting fashion brands. But now nobody will die of exposure from not having clothes. Same with everything, for example, the government school system is extremely developed, but there are still private schools, right?

That would be true of all this. If you gave everyone access to basic nutrition, there would still be steak houses and sushi restaurants and stuff. But now you could actually have the public boycott foods they felt were sourced unethically, or you could, say, regulate the fishing industry into sustainability even if that meant fish became so expensive that the average person could only eat fish once a year or whatever. Businesses might die from it, but no people would. Not even the people who used to own those businesses.

For my money, no money is where it’s at. But UBI would be a nice stepping stone.

What UBI experiments show us is that when you give people money and they DON’T get a job, but just exist at the minimum level, they are usually only doing so to accomplish something like go back to school for a degree or take care of a disabled or elderly loved one.

And the same would be true if we just provided everyone with the basics (except healthcare, everybody must get the best we have when it comes to healthcare, anything else is a moral failing that doesn’t bear contemplating)

but yeah, there would be people who would only wear government issued overalls, only live in government barracks, and only eat government rice and beans… but UBI experiments show us that it would be a small percentage of the population, and they'd only be doing it either to accomplish something worthy, or because they were in some way impaired. 90% of everyone else would still be out there getting jobs so they could move into a nice house and eat fish, but now with the security to quit if those jobs didn’t treat them well!

imo, THAT’s how you fix the economic issues surrounding UBI, you take the “income” out of the equation and you just straight up provide the Universal Basics themselves.

"but how would we build all these apartments and run these food distribution centers?"

well, this dovetails into my other favorite solution for the united states.

See, we spend a FUCKTON on the military, and we're just never going to make that stop happening, apparently.

So I say, we INCREASE the military. I say double it even.

And then we use them here, keeping them sharp and employed and trained etc by doing public works.

The military is already full of engineers and cooks and doctors and electricians and forklift operators and everything else.

So get them building apartments and running food distribution and supplementing hospital staffs etc.

All that stuff involves, logistics, and teamwork, and knowing how to run projects and accomplish missions, it's all good training even for the combat personnel, which is only 15% of the people in the military btw.

The rest are those other jobs i mentioned. So hire and train even more of them, and then deploy them here, repairing bridges and building hospitals and managing clothing warehouses and stuff.

anyway. Food for thought.

[accio-victuuri]

Bojunyixiao’s Weibo night 2023/2024 🎉🎉

can you believe we’re here again. no matter how problematic sina weibo is as a platform, their awards night is a day cpfs look forward to because our boys will be attending. even if we know they won’t interact or anything, the fact that they get to attend the same event is enough for us.

i will just include the recap for the past years on here, the 2019/2020 being very short cause i feel like that has been widely speculated and talked about already. then 2021 and 2022. this post will discuss the event and stuff that happened + some commentary + cpn clownery. enjoy!!!!!

I. CPFs team building and showing strength

It would not be fair to exclude this feat that cpfs achieved with the free tickets for Weibo night. Even if we had no idea if both of them will attend, cpfs tried to grab tickets just in case it happens so we will be prepared. In the first round, we surprised all other fan groups with how we dominated and it set the rhythm for the next rounds. Trust cpfs to set the trend and make other fandoms “wake up”. lol. They can say what they want about cpfs but we all know that part of the hate is because they do not understand why we’re still here. They don’t get why we are this strong and a happy group.

My favorite thing that happened was when the top profile photos spelled out BJYXSZD + heart with a mole. It doesn’t stop there tho, the next week/round, we still dominated so Sina Weibo tried to save face by doing some tactics to suppress us. Nevertheless, every week, more of us got tickets because of the help of our little turtle fandom.

There were also efforts to get top comments on Weibo Night posts but I won’t get into that anymore cause we usually do that. But the thought of showing strength “online” as what the boys advertised is sweet.

Years later, we are still as strong as ever and shall remain that way. and that’s all thanks to each and every turtle out there who chooses positivity & makes sure our community remains a safe space.

II. The anticipation and announcements

It’s safe to say that this year, XZ is a sure attendee cause he always tops the voting at this event. However, some were still not sure cause he did not attend other public events last year like 10c starlight or NYE events cause he is busy with filming his projects. On 1/10 evening tho, a rather unsavory rumor made it on HS which was a signal that weibo night was getting desperate and wanted some noise for their event. lol. maybe there are other parties involved, but the intent is the same. I will also just mention the issue that happened on 1/9 with Chunzhen and them withdrawing lottery tickets supposedly won by certain fans. But the next day, Weibo lottery decided to honor the win and gave the tickets. I have no reaction to this tbh, and that’s why i didn’t talk about this separately and at length on my blog. It’s the brand / fandom that i have nothing to do with’s issue. As a turtle, we all know how CZ is with certain things so i’m not surprised that this happened. LOL.

I honestly feel for XZ, he is out there working hard and minding his own business but people and circumstances keep dragging him into irrelevant incidents.

As for WYB, everyone thought he wasn’t gonna attend. This is the same energy as last year. People are busier with grabbing tickets for his SDC6 finals and completely ignored weibo night ( as they should ). There was still some hope tho, cause if you think about it, he attended a lot of platform events. Tencent, IQIYI, GQ MOTY and 2 NYE shows. So why not Weibo Night? I have said it before, but one thing that I loved about WYB attending multiple events by the end of last year was it’s a show of his position and professionalism in the industry. He can go anywhere and be welcomed — he has good relations with almost everyone and that is important in their industry.

I know he is not fond of public events, but i’d like to think he says yes because of his professional relationship with these platforms/companies. I was never a fan of when people flex that their fave “will not go to xx because they did something to him etc.” LOL. That’s not how any industry works. You can’t burn bridges and I’m happy that WYB doesn’t do that. It’s also a testament of how much of a good boy he is 🤍

Anyway, back to the timeline. On 1/10, Weibo announced some winners and the boys are on there. I guess One & Only winning was a clue that WYB will go. Then a so/o account gave a tip that WYB will announce his attendance to an event on 1/11 @ 13:00. So by the evening of 1/10, it was mostly confirmed that WYB will be going.

The next day, 1/11, Weibo Night account started posting emoji clues for the remaining celebrities to be added in their guest lineup. A few hours later, both the boys announced their attendance. What’s different this time tho is aside from the usual copy-paste caption, there is a reminder for everyone to not do any fan activities at the venue. more details was also added in the comment. I guess they don’t want a repeat of what happened last year with the crowds. It caused a delay & cancellation of the red carpet. Both XZS and YBO reposted with more guidelines to follow like no gatherings and light signs etc.

i know weibo dictated the posting time but the 13 kadian is sending me! yizhan! 🫶🏼

The BJYX ST mods also sent out a message to not do any offline support.

There are more fandom drama after the announcement with other groups but i won’t add that here anymore cause it will only rot our brain. && it’s so much better to focus on the boys!

III. Pre show discussion

On the eve of Weibo Night, GG attended an awards show and it gave us some sweet candy. The most interesting to me is the choice of Alexander McQueen and the first two celebrities tagged by the brand on their weibo in 2024. This is giving me Dsquared vibes. Also how it almost mirrors the wedding-ish vibes they had last Weibo night. I know we as cpfs are somehow programmed to seeing connections but honestly, they don’t make it hard.

Late at night too, Weibo started showing opening screens of attendees and of course they didn’t put them in the same group/frame. This is understandable cause they wouldn’t put the top male celebrities together and knowing how both their fandoms hate each other. Also, how the grouping went, WYB’s was more of the “movie group”. That won’t stop me from being a bit better tho. lol. Cause if they can’t put them in the same frame like that, there is just no way they will be on the same stage or even sat remotely close to each other.

A photo from inside the venue also showed the projected commercial on stage is WYB & Chunzhen 😂😂😂😂😂

I can just imagine XZ smiling when he sees.

There were also talks of the both of them being on the second row. XZ was already seated way before the ceremony started, and their names are so close but cpfs were anticipating since WYB was not inside yet. We were all waiting to see if it will happen. WYB is supposedly next to YZ but then we see that Jackson sat there. We joked that he should stay there so WYB’s place will be taken and he will have no choice but to sit next to XZ 😂😂😂

IV. Red Carpet shenanigans

🟢 WYB’s red carpet walk

I honestly didn’t get the whole look tho when some people pointed out that it’s the glam version of what he wears when he plays golf — i kinda got it. For his past platform events like GQ, IQIYI & 10C, his red carpet were really casual. I guess that’s what he wants — to be comfortable walking the carpet. There were also some praising him for going against the norm. Well, I have to say tho that his face really stood out. Minimal to no make up look. He was so handsome! 🫶🏼

🔴 XZ’s red carpet walk

I love his outfit! It’s black but still got that something special to make him stand out. &&& I honestly love the hair! I thought I would cry because of how short it is now but it suits him. I mean, he looks gorgeous in anything but you know what I mean ☺️

CPN: XZ signed his name beside/very close to WYB. granted, there are so many signatures there but i’m wondering if he recognized his husband’s signature. lol. In this simple way, they can be next to each other!

V. Weibo night links

XIAO ZHAN

Photoshoot for red carpet look

Photoshoot for second outfit

Xiao Zhan winning Outstanding Actor of the Year

WANG YIBO

Photoshoot for red carpet look // Photoshoot BTS video

Yibo winning popular filmmaker of the year

Yibo-Official post for Weibo Night

* This is incomplete cause we still don’t have ( at the moment of posting ), the BTS for XZS photoshoot + their photos while receiving the awards.

VI. THE SUGAR RUSH 🍭🍬

• WYB’s personal post of him and the caption. The freakin caption. Look, i know that WYB’s brand is all about being the “cool guy” so maybe that’s why he said in the caption that he likes the HS about him. But the thing is, it’s totally out of character. How many events did he attend with him going so high up the HS with much more interesting tags but he chose this? Also, he really needed to do so that he used his own account??? For a couple of years now, yibo-official is the one that posts for him when he is at an event. So the speculation is this one is personal and amused him so much, seeing that their HS for the same event they are both at matched! Also, when WYB posted that, CPFs flooded the top comments! Understandably so. 💛

• The signed photos which i’m not sure about. I actually saw someone post that earlier and people were clowning about how it can’t be real.

But then, an account posted a giveaway with all the other attendees and it included the couple photo. I’m putting this down as clownery, cause on their end there will always be deniability. The autographed photo was also deleted by the account a bit later, which is actually expected cause it will bring trouble. lol.

• XZS and YBO matching again! Look at how they arranged the photos. How a few of the snaps are not in theme with the rest. Nothing new here!

• The same song and dance of them missing to see each other. As soon as XZ was gone, WYB came in to sit down. Good thing he had Jackson to talk too a bit and he was gone again after 10 mins! Hopefully they could spend time together backstage away from the cameras. 📷

People are pointing out that XZ was checking his phone lol. probably checking if WYB is giving him a signal to leave so they can do their usual operation. These two! Honestly!

• Not really CPN, but a similarity. In the red carpet, both of them didn’t do the “activities” that others were supposed to. If you watched the red carpet, there is a point where they have to choose something from a wall with numbers. there is also a choice to take a photo from one of the “themes” by they both bypassed it. I was rolling my eyes cause a WYB anti was trying to make a big deal out of it, but then XZ did the exact same thing. Some people just don’t understand how celebrities like them operate. Not to say that they are above everyone else, it’s just that they do things differently.

• ZSWW fake rumor account posted at 19:21. At this time the red carpet was already finished. It doesn’t say who is saying which line. I’m interpreting this incident to be something that happened today backstage 🤡🤡🤡

"A kiss, a kiss...

"Oh, okay, let's talk about it later when we get back.”

"There will be a surprise when I go back 😏”

"What?"

“You'll know when you go back”

Then they posted again, at 21:05 with a much longer one but it doesn’t seem be pertaining to today’s events.

• There is a photo/video of XZ talking to Huang Bo! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! and now we’re thinking about how they haven’t cooperated with each other but seem familiar. Yes, we don’t know all their relationship and friends off camera but my mind immediately went to the SDC 3 clowning. That’s most likely when they became close. lol.

• Heaven’s choice cause WYB was sat at #23 ( Love Zhan )

• This time, both of them left the venue after they received their awards. XZ didn’t stay like he did the previous years. Good for them! It’s better to spend time together 🤍 I know that most of us expected what happened today, them not being in the same place at the same time. Tho some may see that in a negative way, I actually see this as an example of trying to keep their private life separate from the public. Tho a big part of their lives are on camera and that’s how they met. I think what they are doing is really to reserve the time they have & are seen together in private. Maybe some can’t see it that way and will be frustrated but at the end of the day, we have to respect their choice.

• XZ’s 2nd outfit is by Balmain! He tends to wear this at events that they both attend 🥹🥹🥹

• It’s now XZ’s turn to see the cpf headband light signs! Lol. I hope he saw it. We all know that he is near sighted sooooo….

====

If there are post event CPNs, i will do a separate discussion. See you in the next Weibo Night! ✌🏼

[quack-quack-snacks]

Time Will Tell - Chapter 9

My Time Will Tell Masterlist

My Cha Hyun-su Masterlist

My Navigation and Masterlist

The Time Will Tell Glossary

Warnings: Hyun-su being sweet with the kids, Hyun-su having a monster episode. Word Count: 1,113

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“Where’s appa? And noona?” Yeong-su questioned his older sister tearfully. His nose sniffled every few seconds as the tears refused to stop. “I’m scared. Su-yeong, it’s too dark in here.”

“It’s okay,” Su-yeong tried to console her brother. “We’re gonna be alright. Unnie will come and save us.”

“And appa?” Yeong-su asked again. Both kids were too young to truly understand how fatal the fall of their father was, Yeong-su only recently even learning what death was. Su-yeong had hope for her father’s safety, one that was born of childhood innocence and a need for guidance. 

“Yeah, he’ll be back soon,” she reassured. Her own tears soaked her cheeks and she cried quietly, trying to stay strong for her younger brother but only being able to do so for so long. She was only nine. She wasn’t supposed to be doing all of this at such a young age. 

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Both kids flinched and stayed quiet. Su-yeong pointed her flightlight at the door when it knocked again. She could just barely see the silhouette of a man through the glass but didn’t want to risk it. Not until she heard him speak. 

“Kids. I’m here to help you. I know you’re scared but I’m not a monster. I’ll get you to safety,” he promised. Su-yeong got up and walked to open the door, cautiously at first but then opening it fully for the stranger to enter. 

He walked in, looking at the two kids and sighing in relief when he saw they were unharmed. He helped set up some candles to start with before the three of them sat around the wax fires on the floor. 

“Please, sir,” Yeong-su was the first to interrupt the silence that had settled over them like a blanket. “Do you think you can save our dad?” He asked. His voice was devoid of any hope but he still desperately needed the answer to be a yes. 

“What?” Hyun-su asked them, momentarily forgetting how their father fell from out their window on the 12th floor. 

“Our dad fell down the building and hit the ground,” the young boy explained. 

Hyun-su looked down at his lap, wishing he didn’t have to be the bearer of bad news for these two kids. “I know.”

“Maybe he’s still-” Su-yeong said hopefully only for that hope to be crushed by his next words. 

“I’m afraid nobody can survive a fall from the 12th floor,” he confessed. Both kids started to sob softly, mourning the loss of their father. Hyun-su took a moment before trying to lighten their spirits with some good news, no matter how small that news was in comparison to everything else. “There’s a man on the 14th floor that has a lot of food for both of you. You’re hungry, aren’t you?” Both kids nodded in agreement and he continued. “You don’t want to stay here by yourselves, am I right?” 

“But what about noona?” Yeong-su asked quickly, his voice wobbly from the tears he continued to shed. 

“What?” Hyun-su asked.

“What about our sister? What if she comes back here?” Su-yeong elaborated. Hyun-su took a moment before coming up with an idea. 

“What if we left her a note to tell her where we went? That way she can head there too if she comes back,” he offered. Both kids looked content with that idea and he smiled softly, trying to reassure them. 

“In order to get there, we’ll have to go into the hallway. There might be monsters,” he continued with the explanation of his plan. “How old are the two of you?”

“I’m nine…” Su-yeong started. “And my brother is six years old.”

He looked between the two of them before smiling softly again. “You know, those are perfect ages to fight monsters,” he assured. Another moment of silence went by as he looked between the two of them before reaching over to gently squeeze the younger boy’s shoulder since he was still sobbing. “Don’t worry, okay? I’m gonna protect you, I promise.”

He ignored how his hands shook when he promised them that. He wasn’t lying about that promise, he would protect them no matter what. No matter what it took, he wouldn’t let any harm come to them. 

That didn’t mean he wasn’t scared though. 

After placing a sticky note on the wall directly next to the front door of the apartment, Hyun-su led them out of their home, down the hallway, and to the entrance of the stairs. After opening the door and letting them go through first, he took a step to join them until he felt his legs freeze in place. A jolt of pain rushed through his body but the one he focused on the most was the one on his right forearm, right over his scars. His eyes widened and his breath staggered when he saw a hand - that had to be his but was not one of the two attached to his body - run over his arm. 

‘Protect them?’ He heard his own voice question him. The voice sounded like it was spoken directly into his ear, as if a clone of himself was standing behind him and whispering it like a secret. ‘Is that what you want to do?’

He stumbled, dropping his weapon and falling against the wall. The same type of nosebleed he had gotten hours ago in his apartment happened again. Blood streamed out in an almost comically exorbitant amount. It stained his skin and his clothes, soaking everything within its path. His eyes squeezed shut, images flashing through his mind without his consent and making his head pound. 

He knew what this meant. 

He knew this meant he was infected.

He just wished it came after he had saved the two kids in front of him. 

“Are you okay?” Su-yeong asked cautiously when she didn’t hear or see him following them.

“Get away from me,” he warned, his voice strained. “Leave, now!” And he slammed the door to the stairs shut, separating them from him. 

“You always liked to act cool in front of the weak, didn’t you? Now look what happened,” the other version of himself asked. Other voices, ones he knew from the past, bounced around and echoed through his head. 

“It was my fault…”

“Fucking dumbass! Haha!”

“Come out!”

“Hyun-su? I’m not related to him! Who told you that?”

“Just let it go, please Hyun-su?”

“It was my fault.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“Bastard!”

“It was your fault!”

“Just let it go, please Hyun-su?”

“You’re a sad case. It was unfair.”

“Just die already.”

“It was unfair.”

“It was unfair.”

“It was unfair.”

[poppitron360]

Ok so in another post I talked about all the reasons why Valzhang is better than Caleo, and I wanted to do one on Valgrace as well (lmk if this should become a series).

Bear in mind I am only on HoH- I haven’t read all of the Caleo bits yet, but I know she ain’t gonna treat him right.

I was originally SUPER sceptical about Valgrace (“I ship them platonically” “Jason is the Token Straight Friend”) and while I don’t think it was ever cannon I 100% THINK IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN.

Seriously, my eyes have been opened to Valgrace, to the point where the fanfic I’m writing about them currently clocks in at around 5,934 words.

I am OBSESSED. It is a PROBLEM.

And some of the fanarts/fanfics of them are SO CUTE I COULD DIE- it was hard NOT to ship them after reading some of y’all’s stuff. Keep up the good work.

Anyway buckle up ‘cause I’m ‘bouta write a whole dam essay on this.

1. The whole appeal of Jason Grace’s character is that he sees through your insecurities and lifts you up because he is too pure for this world. So narratively speaking, why is he with the most stable character? Yeah, Piper’s got issues, but compared to the others? She’s doing pretty well for herself. I mean, her parents are ALIVE!! Wouldn’t it just make more sense, narratively speaking, to put Jason with the MOST insecure character??? He can support Leo, help him in his arc, and it would give Jason a time to shine by highlighting his best qualities.

2. Throughout most of the books, Jason is the ONLY ONE who actually consistently sees through Leo’s mask. Everyone else’s POV of Leo is “Haha Leo said something funny and goofy and we’re all trying to be serious here, Leo. Gods, he’s soooo annoying!”, whereas Jason’s POV is like “Jason could see that Leo was desperately trying to keep it together for the good of the group, and he thought that was noble and brave and good and kind and awesome.” Like I said above, he’s able to lift Leo up because he sees him, and knows him. Something Calypso never did. There are several interactions, during TLH particularly, where Jason is just like “Hey, Leo? You are great. You are awesome. You have saved our lives multiple times. Whatever just went wrong, it wasn’t your fault. Stop beating yourself up about everything. You are a valued and respected member of this team. I love and appreciate you.” And Leo still puts up those walls with the jokes and the sarcastic remarks, and Jason is nothing but patient with him. Calypso was never like that.

3. I can’t find the line in the book, but there’s a bit in HoH where Jason’s worrying about the “To Storm or Fire, the World must fall” line in the prophecy, and he says words to the effect of “I like living, but I’d rather I die than Leo, anyway horses-” and seriously?? Rick missed a trick by not making them a couple. There is WAY more potential for angst if there’s that romantic feeling involved, knowing one of them is going to die, and both being willing to sacrifice themselves for one another like this is “Merchant of Venice” or something (I will explain the obscure Shakespeare reference in the comments). Calypso would never give up her LIFE for Leo, and Leo would only give up his because she’s hot.

4. Okay, most of this is copy-pasted from my post about Valzhang, but it still applies, and it applies to them maybe more so. They get so much more time together to establish a meaningful relationship. Their arc carries over all five books, and we get to form connections as a reader to them both, so the payoff is a lot more satisfying. Unlike Calypso, Jason is his own character separately, and not just an add-on to Leo’s arc. Their friendship is a key focus in their chapters, and a key point in their character development, as Jason is the first person Leo ever opens up to about his mom. When Calypso showed up, Leo had already gone through that journey of letting down those walls, so it was a lot less meaningful. They had little to no time to develop a relationship, and we never get a chance to care about Calypso as a person. She’s just kind of a plot point for Leo/Percy’s own development, and never her own character.

5. What separates Leo and Calypso from the other relationships in the series is that they were not written for each other. Frank and Hazel? Written for each other. Jason and Piper? Written for each other. Percy and Annabeth? FUCKING WRITTEN TO BE TOGETHER FOREVER. Cal was brought in during BoTL to cockblock Percabeth, and then Rick realised Leo “needed” a girlfriend, so picked her. But you know what two characters were written to be best friends right from the get-go? Like literally it’s established in the first couple pages of the first book? Jason and Leo. Much like how Valzhang were always meant to be rivals, Jason and Leo were always meant to be best friends.

6. Like I said in the last post, Leo doesn’t NEED a girlfriend. He can heal his trauma with friends and found family, learning to love and accept himself, learning that he doesn’t actually need the attention of a hot girl to be valid. Jason is the best person to help him on that journey, seeing as how his character thrives in uplifting others. The only person who ever loved Leo unconditionally died when he was eight. His blood relatives abandoned him, and he clearly wasn’t treated very well in the foster homes. He constantly feels like he has to work to prove he’s earned his place among the Seven because for him, family has never been a guarantee. Jason cares for Leo even when he’s fucked up, even when he’s a crying mess on the floor, even when he feels most like he doesn’t deserve to be cared for. Leo thinks he needs the attention of a hot girl to give him validation. What he really needs is to find a place among his brethren- and Jason offers him that place.

So, kids, that was it for today’s edition of “Why Literally Any Ship Is Better Than Caleo”. Tune in next time for our fav ✨trauma twinsies✨ Valdangelo!

[saphira-approves]

Something something professional artist jargon something something insert art knowledge here—whatever I want to talk about the book covers

So you’ve got Eragon, with a 3/4 portrait of Saphira; she’s giving a benevolent side eye with almost a Mona Lisa smile, she’s got that gleam in her eye, she’s looking at you but not head on—listen, this was the whole reason I picked up the book in the first place when I was eleven, she was so clearly full of life and personality and I just really wanted to meet her. It’s a really good glimpse of her character before even opening the book. She’s engaging you, but also maybe judging you a little bit, and she has a lot of thoughts but she’s going to keep them to herself for right now, thank you.

We’re skipping Eldest for right now because I have a point to make. Shush.

For Brisingr, we get a perfect side portrait of Glaedr, the grumpy old man. He’s not even side-eyeing the viewer like Saphira does; he is eyes forward, goal-oriented, noble and regal and, unless you’re worth his time, not really going to bother with you because he has Important Business to attend to. He is The Last of the pre-Fall dragons, his Rider is The Last of the pre-Fall Riders, he represents a bygone era that will never fully be resurrected, but can still inspire the present to fight for the future; he is no longer fully his own dragon, but a Relic, a Memory, a Symbol. He’s not anxious about it the way Eragon or Saphira might be; he has grieved for a century, he couldn’t be anxious about it if he tried. But he knows that keeping his integrity intact is important, and so this is how he presents himself: Noble. Regal. The Survivor. The Last.

Fírnen graces the cover of Inheritance, bookending the original series by almost perfectly mirroring Saphira—and seriously, it is so satisfying to line the books up with these two at the ends. Though he’s got a 3/4 profile like Saphira, Fírnen is much more reserved. No Mona Lisa smile, no mischievous gleam in his eye; he simply looks at you, and you look back, and you wonder what he’s thinking. He is, in fact, a lot like Arya—anyone who’s read the previous three books up to that point and hasn’t been spoiled for the ending might be able to guess, just from this portrait, who the final egg would hatch for. It’s also a perfect expression for the Final Book, with the fate of Alagaësia and the dragons hanging in the balance: what world does this mysterious dragon emerge into? A war-torn apocalypse? A hard-won victory? What does his future entail, and thus, what do the futures of our favorite characters entail? You ask him so many questions, but all he will ever do is stare deep into your soul with his somber, too-knowing gaze.

And now for the main event:

My beautiful precious son, the red-scaled Thorn, staring you down from the covers of both Eldest and Murtagh. I have loved the cover of the second book ever since I first picked it up, and my appreciation has only grown with time; needless to say I was very excited when the Murtagh cover dropped, and I got to see both of my favorite characters in one place. For both of these, Thorn takes the same stance: a full-frontal combative position, looking You, The Viewer directly in the eye, daring you to judge him, daring you to get in his way. I’ve always had my own opinions about what lay behind this show of force, and the context we get in Murtagh does not disappoint. He may be terrifying, he may be the scourge of the war, but underneath all that, Thorn is terrified. He’s traumatized, he’s claustrophobic, his body is too big for his age; he is painfully young still, and yet treated like a dragon ten times his age because that’s how he looks. He’s also sweet, and playful, and cares so much about his Rider, and wants desperately to keep Murtagh safe and happy. Just like Murtagh, he hides all of that—the fear and the softness both—behind a visage of ferocity, playing into the fears and preconceived notions people have of him, warning enemies away so they can’t get too close to what will actually hurt him. He dares you to try. He’s terrified you will try. He will fight tooth and nail if you do try.

[itstheoneshot]

Tokyo Nights

request

Summary: A wild night out, with an even wilder man. Could anything get any better?

Word Count: 3k

Pairing: Yuta x Reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Alcohol Use, Oral, Unprotected Sex.

Yuta was hot, and boy, did he know it.

He oozed arrogance and dominance in the best way, and you were addicted to him, besotted and drawn in with every word he said, your eyes never leaving him, forever caught in that terrifying gaze.

“Where are we going?” You ask, as Yuta intertwines your fingers to lead you out of the hotel lobby.

You look up at the neon-lit streets of the central Shinjuku area, breathing in the air that you had missed so badly. It had taken a lot to convince your company to send you on another business trip to Japan, having only been here a few months ago, but you were desperate to see the man that you met at a dingy bar one night after a painful meeting on your last trip.

Nakamoto Yuta. A corporate top dog, though you wouldn’t pick it at first glance. He dressed immaculately, but didn’t flaunt his wealth with big emblazoned designer wear, everything he did was subtle. Except for flirt, and give orders, and oh god, did he have you fucking kneeling.

“We’re going to get a drink, kitten,” He replies, “You want a drink, don’t you?”

Your heartbeat is racing in your chest, and you know as much from last time that when he asks you a question like this, it isn’t really up for debate, but a suggestion, both in broken English and in his need to be in charge, you nod meekly at him, playing into the kitten nickname just a little.

“I’d love a drink,” You murmur, “Will you order for me too?”

Yuta looks at you, playfully rolling his eyes as he squeezes your hand gently. Turning to walk you down a dimly lit street, he pauses for a moment in between the streetlights to pull you closer to him.

“Of course I will,” He answers, leaning down to kiss you, a short kiss but it still leaves you breathless, “I’m gonna have so much fun with you tonight.”

It takes all of your strength to stop yourself from crying out as he pulls away, though you whine just loud enough for him to hear, pouting cutely at him as he turns to walk away. You hold his hand tightly, with a skip in your step you only walk a little further before Yuta stops in front of a secluded little bar.

“Our first stop,” He smiles at you, gesturing for you to enter before him, though he doesn’t let go of your hand, “You’ll like it here, it’s intimate.”

Yuta greets the bartender as you walk inside, and you glance around to take everything in. It is smaller than you had expected, with maybe 6 bar stools, and a singular man working behind the bar. You walk to the furthest one, sitting down as Yuta sits beside you, and the bartender looks over just as Yuta lights a cigarette up, holding the pack out for you to take one too.

You do so and he lights it for you as the smoke from his own cigarette filters out from between his lips. The bartender is standing in front of you when you exhale your first drag, and you listen as Yuta orders you each a beer, at least that much you can understand without a second pause for internal translation.

As your drinks are poured, Yuta lets his hand settle on your bare thigh, gripping slightly, though of course you notice. You had not forgotten just how big his hands are, but this was a pleasant reminder, a throwback to the last time you were here, the first time that you met.

The grip he holds to you gets tighter as you both feel the buzz, several drinks in now, twice as many cigarettes when Yuta turns to you suddenly, leaning in for another lingering kiss before pulling away, leaving that same sense of impatience, desire.

“Let’s go now, kitten,” He says, “The night is young, we have so much left to do.”

You have no idea what he means by that, though in seconds you are on your feet, a little woozy but not in a bad way, following him out of the bar and back out into the streets. The alleyway is busier now, more people enjoying the fresh air, and the main streets are even busier. The neon lights feel brighter than before, but the sky is pitch black, so it must just be the contrast.

You aren’t outside for long, soon pulled into a tall building and directed up an escalator to the third floor. You could recognise the sounds from a mile away, and you aren’t afraid to hide the smile on your face as you enter the arcade, the experience is so different with a little booze in your system.

“Show me what you want to win,” Yuta asks you, “I’m a pro, I promise.”

It takes a few minutes, walking up and down the aisles of claw and ufo machines to find something perfect. You know that this won’t be your last stop, so a giant plush toy is out of the question, though you could have screamed when you saw the Gengar one… but you make it to the machines with smaller plush keyrings, and after glancing down at your handbag, decide that would be the best choice for you.

“That one,” You mumble, pointing in front of you at the Hello Kitty toy, “Please, she’s so cute!”

Yuta nods approvingly, not waiting another moment before inserting the required coins, and scoring it on the first go with a skill that you truly could not believe.

“That had to have been a fluke!” You tease him, though you are quietened with another kiss, this time a little deeper, more forceful, yet still not enough.

“You should say thank you,” He warns you, but there is a softness in his gaze that tells you that you aren’t really in trouble, he glances down at the keyring before looking again at you, “And she’s cute, but you are cuter.”

You feel your cheeks burn with a flustered blush, which only deepens as without a second thought, Yuta drops to his knees to clip the key ring onto your bag. It is intimate, far too intimate for the location, and the way that your body reacts has you almost in tears.

Yuta glances up at you expectantly, but is confronted with an expression that he can’t place quite yet.

“Are you okay?” He asks, “What’s on your mind?”

Your mind is racing, one thought over and over again, one thought that may get you in trouble, or drive this beautiful man insane. You aren’t often brave, but maybe it’s the alcohol, or being in a foreign country, but you muster up the courage to reply.

“I thought I’d end up on my knees first tonight,” You smirk at him playfully, watching him bite his lip, his eyes widening as you sentence yourself, “But we still have time for that, don’t we senpai?”

Yuta stands up slowly, his gaze unwavering as he interlocks your fingers with his, and turns with an expectation of you to follow him toward the exit.

“We have plenty of time, kitten,” He replies, his tone far too casual for what he is insinuating, “But I think I’d like to get started early.”

“I’d like that,” You nod eagerly, though you are not quite certain what you are agreeing to, you know that Yuta requires your consent before making any move, “Yes, please.”

After a detour into a convenience store, where Yuta keeps you close as he purchases several alcoholic drinks, all with labels you can hardly read, and soon again you are walking up a backstreet towards an area that you have not been through before. A little lost at first, you soon realise, reading the signs above you as you trail up another street.

Love Hotel.

A new experience for you, on your last trip, Yuta came to your hotel, and you to his apartment, but the desperation calls for a much quicker, easier option than to travel back to where either of you are staying. You are sure that Yuta has one in mind, and you fully give in to follow him toward a dimly lit, but very inviting hotel just ahead.

It takes no time at all to check in, the functions are anonymous, it is so surreal not speaking to a single person at all, but in minutes you have a keycard and a room number and Yuta has you pressed against the wall of the elevator as you travel up to the 8th floor.

“Fuck,” Yuta groans against your lips, “I shouldn’t have waited so long to bring you here, I think I’m going crazy.”

His words, and the deep guttural tone of them, have the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and goosebumps raise on your skin. He is scary when he is desperate, but the fear only makes your wanting grow, the lack of control that you have over the situation now that you have consented is such a turn on for you.

You whimper as the elevator stops, and Yuta quickly pulls away to drag you down the hallway with an ease that tells you he has frequented this hotel many times before tonight, but that does not surprise you in the slightest.

The door is opened and just as quickly shut with you pressed up against it. Yuta’s hand on the door handle, double and triple checking the lock, although of course it doesn’t open without a key, he just needs to be sure. The plastic bag with your cans of drink falls to the floor, all but forgotten as Yuta races to kiss you as if his life depended on it. You don’t even get a chance to look at the room before all of your attention and focus is stolen by the man in front of you.

It is hot, and messy, fumbling hands quick to pull at buttons and fabric, making quick work of undressing the other. The feeling of Yuta’s hands on your skin is electric, his perfectly manicured black nails look so pretty as he lifts a hand to your throat to keep you still, though you wouldn’t dare to move anyway.

“Yuta~” You whine, your words trailing off as his free hand roughly guides your legs apart, you are leaning up on the tips of your toes to make this easier for him, “Oh, fuck.”

One long, slender finger breaches you for the first time, as his other hand tightens slightly around your neck, muffling the moan that escapes you. It takes you back to your last meeting, god, you had missed the way he felt, the way that he worked your body as if it was made for him.

Yuta breaks away from the kiss to lean back and watch you as one finger moves to two, and you try your hardest to match his gaze, though your vision is blurry, and your focus is all over the place with so many things to take in.

The moans that escape you are pitiful, his fingers curl at just the right angle, and you remember just how easily he was able to get you there last time, and pray that tonight will be much the same. You try to pull him closer, chasing the way that his kisses make you feel, but he is so much stronger than you, all he does is laugh at your attempt.

“Oh, kitten,” He murmurs, as you let out a particularly loud cry, and your vision begins to blur, “Are you close? You look like you’re about to cry.”

You whimper pathetically, as your thighs begin to shake, only able to nod, knowing that he won’t be done with you, this is only the beginning. He nods approval only seconds before your high washes over you, with an euphoric buzz that has you reeling, breathing staggered and all a mess.

“Good girl,” Yuta purrs, pulling his fingers out without warning, leaving you bare, “Now I want you on your knees, after your little comment at the arcade.”

Always eager to please, you follow Yuta with wobbly steps as he crosses the room to the bed, noting that he stopped to pick up the bag of drinks, and he places the bag down next to him once he reaches the mattress, where you obediently drop to your knees. You stare up at him wide-eyed, smiling softly as you see the outline of his cock through his slacks. Your hands trail up his thighs to his waistband, nimble fingers making quick work to pull his pants down, exposing the body you fell so damn hard for, and that feeling is only tenfold now.

“You’re so beautiful, Yuta,” You praise him as he moves to sit down on the bed, and you guide his legs apart so you can fit between them, “I’m lucky to serve you tonight.”

Yuta combs his fingers through your hair, guiding you to move closer, his other hand on his cock, stroking slowly to satiate a little bit of his desire before you close your mouth over the tip. You remember how he likes it, messy and deep, and you don’t struggle at all, even when his hips buck and force you to take him in deep enough to make you gag on him.

“Good kitten,” He purrs, “You feel so good.”

Spit pools around the base of his cock as he fucks into your throat, you hollow your cheeks to take him deeper, loving the way that he uses your mouth, knowing what it will get you after this.

You look up as you hear a noise, and see that Yuta has cracked open one of the cans of drink. He takes a sip from it, and then roughly grabs you by the hair to pull you off his cock but keep you still in your position on the floor. He tugs your head back, and you gasp, which gives him the opportunity to do what he had planned, pouring the drink down your throat, overflowing it goes down your neck and your chest. He laughs at you as you cough a little, trying your hardest to swallow before he drags you down onto his cock again. You feel sticky, eyes watering as you try to find that same rhythm that you just had before he gave you the alcohol top-up, fuck, that was hot.

You feel his cock twitch, and know that you have him close, but he pulls you off him before he reaches climax, muttering an I am not done yet as he pulls you on top of him, moving back up the bed to make it more comfortable for you both.

Straddling his hips, you feel his cock, hard and throbbing against you, and you desperately grind on him, wanting to relieve some of the pressure building deep inside your stomach. Yuta chuckles at you out of pity, “Such a slut, you can’t wait to have me inside you, can you?”

You whimper and whine, but don’t hesitate to lift onto your knees to give him the space to line his cock up with your hole. You use all your strength to drop down onto him, taking him all in one swift motion. The sting is harsh at first, but you were more than ready, and needed your fill more than any pain could stop you.

“Fuck, Yuta senpai,” You moan, knowing damn well how much he loves the name, it is what got you here in the first place, “You stretch me out so well.”

He holds your hips to keep you steady as he helps you ride him, slow and sensual, allowing yourself to feel every inch of his cock as you take him in deep, filling you completely, plugging you up just the way you like it.

Yuta grabs you by the throat to pull you down and kiss him, giving him the opportunity to thrust into you from underneath. The new angle has you spiralling, his strength and speed so much more than your own. Your moans mix with his and all you can hear is that and the sound of your bodies connecting over and over again.

Your vision begins to blur when Yuta rolls you over onto your back, making space between your legs to thrust back in only a moment later, not leaving you bare for long enough to slow your orgasm down, you are close, oh god, you are so fucking close.

“Please,” You cry, “Help me, let me cum, please!”

Yuta begins to laugh, but is cut off to moan as your body begins to shake, clenching to him unable to hold back anymore, he moves his hand down to rub circles on your clit, thrusting harshly to help you get there.

Your orgasm breaks through with desperate cries, gasping for air while you see stars. You are not sure at what point Yuta reaches peak too, but you feel his rhythm go off-beat and a warmth spreads as he paints your insides white. You realise now that he didn’t wear a condom, but you’re on the pill, and checked regularly for STDs, so you couldn’t care less as the sex is better than you had even remembered.

“My kitten,” He murmurs as he kisses you, slowing down to a stop, and pulling out of you in a swift movement, “I needed that, needed you.”

You kiss him back, whining softly as you feel his cum drip down between your legs, dying to clean yourself up, but not knowing what the rest of the night is going to entail. You could do with a shower, after having three quarters of a can of alcohol poured over you, and you hope that Yuta wants to, too. The room has a bath in the corner, and Yuta catches you eyeing it off.

“You don’t need to ask,” Yuta chuckles, “Let’s bath, and then we can go out again. I still have to take you clubbing, don’t I, kitten?”