#meaning the roots were exposed to extreme cold

[officialbillhader]

What ive learned from my everlasting mulberry porch tree is that it can take a lot of abuse

[dr3amfyr-e]

brat. - j.v. ( w. 4.5k )

꒰ in which the boy you see every summer enrolls in the same university as you. ꒱ — modern!jacaerys velayron x reader

୨ ⎯ i cannot stress enough, football means ⚽️ not 🏈. childhood-friends-to-lovers, but you have to get through my 2000 word psychoanalysis and backstory first. light angst. mention of the death of a parent. lots and lots of talk about the velaryon-targaryen-hightower family dynamic. light make out action. reader's family is implied to be wealthy enough to have a summer home. almost everyone lives au. set in the uk, not westeros. omitted daemon rhaenyra marriage because there’s no way to to make it even semi-normal. realizing now i omitted daemon entirely erm sorry. pushing the laenor agenda bc he’s my favorite character. this is abhorently long. extreme overuse of the em-dash. uhh the perspective is wonky in a few places. will prob get a pt.2. ⎯ ୧

i had to write this twice. i'm offering this to you with shaking hands, like a peasent child begging for coins. i may write a part two because i have more to say, but i don't want to figure it out rn.

On the cold January morning that Jacaerys Velaryon-Targaryen was born, the media went into a frenzy. 

The Targaryens were old money, their fortune rooted a century back in good investments. Historically adept at finding their way into things, the empire had a string to pull in every industry. From art and law to technology and shipping, if business prospects looked good there would be a Targaryen investment.

And then there were the dogs — regal greyhounds, with long, thin bodies and sleek coats. The Targaryens bred them as far back as bloodline records went. The pups were never for sale; sometimes they were used as show dogs, and successful show dogs they were, but more often they were pets. It was a status symbol, to nonchalantly own such a coveted creature. 

The Targaryens were idolized in the public eye. They were all stunning, with sharp features and silver hair, and each member of the family seemed to possess a Midas touch. But, where Valyrian blood ran hot, so did the press. It was no surprise when magazines started to turn a profit from silver heads plastered across their glossy covers. It was the price that came with God-like aristocracy.

From editorials to gossip columns, people devoured the insider life of the untouchables. When Aemma Targaryen died, there was a four-page spread in nearly every magazine; complete with pictures and quotes. Business papers filled with opinion pieces about Rhaenyra’s inheritance claim to her family’s empire; magazines exploded with the announcement of her engagement to Laenor Velaryon, and subsequently Viserys’ marriage to Alicent Hightower, the daughter of his lawyer. 

When Jacaerys was born, reporters lined up outside of the hospital doors. There were cameras and microphones and crew trucks, and Rhaenyra hated it. It wasn’t the way she wished to welcome her child into the world — swarmed by people who didn’t know nor care for him.

Laenor had always been good at navigating the attention, and Rhaenyra was constantly grateful. So, when he pulled his gaze from the babe and steeled himself to deal with the onslaught of reporters outside, tears pricked at her eyes. Appreciation, exhaustion, adoration? She couldn’t be sure. 

Looking down at her son, she thought, he’s perfect. He had a smattering of dark hair, and he was quiet but not concerningly so. Wispy lashes fell upon his cherub cheeks, and when he eventually blinked up at her his eyes were dark. He looked nothing like her — she didn’t care. 

She refused to talk to anyone outside of her family, and had the curtains in her private room drawn. To expose her son, her heart, to the prying eyes of the bored masses with nary a care for his well-being was a nightmare. She wouldn’t have him exploited. 

At the time of Jacaerys’ birth, she and Laenor had been married for a little over a year. Laenor’s father, Corlys, managed the bulk of the import and export for Viserys’ company. Corlys was a good man, he hadn’t dreamed of marrying his son off. But Laenor and Rhaenyra were both in the same impossible situation: the wiles of youth mixed with the ever critical public. 

They had both fallen into scandalous relationships, both preyed on by paparazzi. If they married one another, it would save face for both of their families. Plus — both being the eldest and heir, this would clear the expectation of a dignified marriage. They agreed to leave each other to whatever youthful fun they wanted to have, as long as everything was discreet. 

Both the Velaryons and the Targaryens kept a summer home in Dragonstone, a private community in coastal Wales. It was the perfect place for Rhaenyra and Laenor to begin their life — far from her father, close to his parents, and out of the line of sight for any nosy journalist. 

The public eye had looked to other things by the time Lucerys was born, two years later. Again, Laenor dealt with the small gathering of reporters with the utmost grace, and Rhaenyra submitted a written statement. 

Alicent divorced Viserys that same year. 

As she watched her boys grow up, full of energy and life, Rhaenyra thought, there was no one better to parent with than her best friend — a title Laenor had rightfully earned. They hadn’t had much choice in knowing each other, and they certainly would never have chosen to be married, but he made a bearable roommate. They had things in common; they liked the same music, and the same men. They drank the same wine and frequented the same restaurants. And, they both loved their boys. 

As Jace and Luke grew up, they found the best company in each other — the school in Dragonstone was so small, though, that there were very few other options. They both played on the school’s small football team, and Jace took piano lessons while Luke learned to fence. Where Jace was driven by emotion, Luke was level-headed; where Luke was cautiously quiet, Jace spoke his mind. It was an ideal childhood, the Welsh coast was an idyllic backdrop to grow up upon, with the sea in their backyard. 

They were ten and eight when Joffrey was born, both excited for their new brother. Their mother brought him home, bundled in a soft red blanket. The boys sat on the couch beside Rhaenys and stared at him for upwards of an hour. 

Hardly a week had passed when Harwin Strong died. He was a family friend, a frequent presence in their home and life — Jace and Luke had been upset by this, of course. 

In time they came to understand the situation fully. Jacaerys first, fitting the pieces together with the evidence he found in the mirror. Neither Rhaenyra nor Laenor had dark hair, like he and his brothers. 

His matriline was uncontestable though, as he grew into himself. He possessed the same nose, jaw, brow, and high cheekbones that Rhaenyra wore. The comparisons between the two became more frequent as he grew older, and he found himself to be quite proud to look like her. 

Her attitude lived in him as well, the temperament she had been so notorious for as a girl festered in her eldest son. She had once been christened ‘The Princess of Dragonstone’ after flipping off a reporter at their summer home. Jacearys earned it for himself when he was fifteen, after loudly berating a reporter. He had been defending Luke, but no one seemed to care when they deigned him ‘The Prince of Dragonstone’. He took it with grace, claiming that he couldn’t help but be his mother’s child.

It instilled a sense of public propriety he strove to uphold. 

Rhaenyra remarried the same year — to Alicent Hightower — and moved her children from Wales to London. It took a while to adjust to the new life — Jace liked his new school, but he detested his step-brothers. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t come around to the idea of living with Aemond and Aegon, who took so much pleasure in making he and his brothers miserable. 

After the first month, Jacaerys fell in brilliantly. He performed well in school, quickly being enrolled in the advanced literature and history courses. He got on well with his peers, and made a number of friends. He joined the football team and spent his Sunday afternoons learning piano concertos. 

Living in London made him a more publicly prominent figure in his family's legacy. He knew how to play his role as heir; he carried himself perfectly — confident and charming and elegant. He didn’t particularly like being in the public eye, but there was a certain sense of satisfaction when he did something to receive positive public attention. 

King’s Landing, much like where he had grown up, was a community reserved for the upper echelon. Situated in Northwest London, and surrounded by wrought iron gates, it was regal and dignified. The house had high, vaulted ceilings, large stained glass windows, and more than enough bedrooms. It rained more, Jacaerys noticed in the first month. When it had rained in Dragonstone he would watch the droplets bounce off the sea, where it lapped at the sandy bay. Here the rain splattered unceremoniously upon the pavement. 

For as wonderful as life in London had turned out, Jacaerys found himself longing for what was left behind in Dragonstone. Laenor lived there still, and while he called often and visited as much as he could, it wasn’t the same. Jace’s childhood bedroom remained, along with all of the memories in the house he grew up in. And his friends. There was an assortment of people he only saw between late May and early September; the children of the other seasonal residents. The number had dwindled in years past, with fewer of them returning for break — favouring more interesting places, like Ibiza or Rome, as they got older. 

Far too few of his childhood friends he kept in contact with, especially after the move to London. You were the exception. 

He was grateful, on days when it stormed in London, to receive a silly text or too-long voice note. It made things feel less dull — you had a way of doing that. 

He took to reading theory around the time he turned seventeen. It’s queer theory, at the suggestion of his cousin Baela, who lent him his first Judith Butler book. He finished it that weekend. 

His aunt Laena and her two daughters lived in London, and Jace found a close comrade in Baela. She played competitive tennis and listened to riot grrrl, she was much cooler than him and he knew it. Her bedroom held two massive bookshelves, and she let him pillage her collection for De Bouvier and Didion and Gay. Hours were spent lying across the floor in Laena’s house, studying, or reading, or talking. He enjoyed Baela’s company more than any of his school friends, favouring anything with her over anything with the boys from his football team. 

His youngest sister, Visenya, turned one around the same time. Baela, staying with Jacaerys while he babysat one night, inducted him into the eldest daughter club. 

“You’re so keen on driving your siblings around, and taking care of them. Plus, aren’t you your mother’s closest confidant?” She asked. 

True, Jace supposed. He was the oldest of Rhaenyra’s children, and the most responsible of his brothers and step-siblings. His mums both worked full time, they were busy but as involved as possible. Jace just did the menial things. He made Joffrey breakfast, picked Luke up after school, and watched Visenya when necessary. He didn’t mind.

Baela argued that he should mind. 

He had been a sensitive child, more so than his brothers, but it made him incredibly emotionally adept as he aged. So many boys his age prided themselves on stoicism, but that was never something Jace felt connected to. He always felt things too deeply to bottle them up — it accounted for the occasional temper that flared up when he was upset, but also how empathetic and kind he was. 

Jacearys was set to graduate with honours in the first week of May. It was three months before when college acceptance letters began to appear in the mail. He had applied to a number of places, and been accepted everywhere. The University of the Vale was where his hopes hinged though. 

Just after Valentine's Day, it showed up. The envelope was wide and stuffed full, and sealed with a wax stamp. His acceptance letter was on the very top of the stack of papers — the thick paper heavy in his hands, as he admired the blue printed border and silver flocking. 

Rhaenrya sorted through the informational packets while Jace reread the letter. Part of him couldn’t believe it was real.

He sends you a picture of the letter, and you respond in kind with one of an identical nature. 

You hadn’t planned to go to the same university, but it certainly was a happy coincidence. 

After graduation, he was beyond excited for the reprieve that Dragonstone granted. The promise of early morning hikes, and evenings spent on the beach — the once empty house, full of life and bustling with bodies. 

You were the first thing Jacaerys thought to look for when he set his bags down in the summer home. 

It was late May, and you were guaranteed to be out of school. I’ll text after I unpack, he thought, pulling clothes and books from his suitcase. 

His room in Dragonstone had once been his childhood bedroom. The walls were a warm tone of white, and the small bed was still covered with his blue and white checkered duvet. Piano scales and pictures of his brothers and friends adorn the walls. There was a soccer trophy on the back edge of his desk, something he had won when he was eleven. It was stuffy from nine months of stagnance, but familiar all the same. 

He pushed the curtains back from the window to let sunlight filter into the dusty room, gazing down at the beach, when he spotted your figure. He was quick to rush downstairs, out the backdoor, and across the stone path that leads from the patio to the beach. He greets you with a call of your name and a tight hug, sunglasses perched atop his head and linen shirt half buttoned. 

It had been a year since he’d last seen you. You had kept in touch during the school year; Jace favoured Snapchat and FaceTime, delighted with the pleasure of seeing the mundane things you were up to. There was a nearly constant text thread, and voice memos passed back and forth. But, it all paled in comparison to physical company. 

He abandoned his housekeeping duties, keen to sit on the beach and talk. And you did so for hours, about everything and nothing. He tells you about his last year of school and listens as you do the same. When the sun dipped past the treeline, he leaned back on his elbows, watching the water crest on the sand. He felt more at ease than he had in a while, enraptured by the ease of your presence. The conversation flowed, there were no awkward lulls and no pressure to talk about something dignified. It was comforting to be so close to someone who didn’t see much of his life in London — you knew the best version of him. 

Your friendship had always felt like that, from a young age. On days that smelled of sunscreen and sea salt in his mind, you would meet in the mornings and depart past dark and then do it again the next day, never tiring of each other. Your parents knew his, so you had always been welcome in his home — invited or not. You had shared a bed during sleepovers, drunk from the same cup, and fallen asleep on the couch during movie nights countless times. Quick glances and imperceptible expressions were a language you communicated in, reading each other without words. In your presence, Jace was the most comfortable.

The summer slipped away as it always did, taking long nights and leaving memories of sand and sunshine. The days were ambled away in the water, on rocky hiking paths, or in the meadow that sat a mile away from all of the homes. 

Jace had started The Hobbit before school ended — most days he found himself sprawled out in the park or on the beach, reading. He had also taken to running with his dog, Vermax, in the mornings. He relied on the serotonin boost to start the day, and with no football to play a jog was a decent alternative. 

When the summer drew to a close, the typical melancholy that befell the return to the real world wasn’t present in Jace’s mind. He presumed it had everything to do with the fact that he would see you every day now

You have one college class together — a nine a.m. medieval literature discussion. 

Clinging to familiarity in the new environment, he glued himself to your side for the first week of classes. He memorized the way to your dorm, meeting you outside every morning to walk together to your first lessons. The meandering conversation was a good start to the day, and he silently relished in your tired eyes and quiet voice, not yet used to the early schedule. 

On Friday he all but begged you to come back to his dorm after the discussion; it was your only class that day so you had given in. You hadn’t seen his living quarters yet, and he wanted to spend time with you, worried for when your schedules would fill up and you would lose room for each other. 

The discussion had been mind-numbing. You reviewed the same syllabus as the lecture, and went over the same rules and policies as every other class. With the thirty-five minutes remaining, the teaching assistant made everyone watch an incredibly monotone video about the history of medieval England. 

Jace linked his arm into yours in the hallway after class, pulling you to the doors. The cool morning air was refreshing, waking you up more as you walked across campus. His dorm building was new and modern, seventeen floors with grey siding and big windows. It was private housing, clearly expensive. 

He had a single room with an adjoining bathroom and a small common space. The walls were typical dorm white, with laminate wood flooring. Joffrey’s school photo is hung on one wall, the frame clearly decorated by the child with glitter and string. Scattered across the other walls were photographs in thin silver frames, a large world map, a clock, and a cross-stitch of a rainbow stag beetle.

Sitting on the couch, you observed the unframed photos that lay across the coffee table, inspecting a leggy grey dog as you plucked it from the pile, “Who is this?”

Jace leaned into your side, gazing at the photo, “My mum’s dog, Syrax,” He reached over you to tap the picture, “Syrax is my dog’s mum.” 

He slipped his hand into yours as you walked with him to his second class of the day.

In the third week of school, Jace asks you to attend a mixer for a pre-law society with him. He doesn't know anyone, and doesn't want to be alone at the party. You meet at his dorm at a quarter-to-six so you can walk to the event together. 

The dress-code is emi-formal, and when he opens the door to you his hair is slicked back with water and he smells like his cologne — musk, sandalwood, and amber. 

“Are your clothes pressed?” You ask, grinning at his freshly ironed slacks and the three buttons undone on his shirt. 

He rolls his eyes, locking the door behind him as he escorts you down the hallway. The walls of the elevator in his dorm are mirrored, and you laugh at him when you catch him taking pictures of himself. He makes you take one with him, and sets it as his lock screen. 

The mixer was in the dean of law’s massive house, buzzing with young people in smart outfits. Jace abandons you about fifteen minutes in, spotting a group of poli sci majors from his social psychology class. 

From his childhood spent between galas and his mother’s business meetings, Jace was good at navigating these situations. He was charming, leveling the professors with charismatic smiles and confident posture. He was good at holding an intelligent conversation, discussing theory and strategy. 

You were on the patio, watching the stars, when he found you an hour later.

His arms brushed yours as he leaned against the railing, “Sorry for leaving you,” His voice was quiet, and he stared at your profile, watching the way the moonlight illuminated your skin. 

You wave his apology off and make him buy you coffee in recompense on the way home. 

You’re stood talking together on the quadrangle a few weeks later, a cup of hot chocolate warming your mitten-less hands, when you realise just how cold it’s gotten. It's just too cold for the thin jacket that you try to sink further into, hiding from the wind that bites at your delicate skin.

Jace watches you shiver, observing your lack of appropriate attire. 

“Are you cold?” He asks, reaching out to run his hands up and down your arms, half to warm you, half to gauge how thick your jacket is. Not very. 

You nod, “I didn’t check the weather this morning.” 

He sighs with exaggerated exasperation and slides his arms around you, careful of the paper cup you held. Of course, he’s worn the right coat, and you feel the downy material of his hood against your cheek as he rubs your back to generate some warmth. You smell the cologne on his collar and the expensive shampoo he uses; he grumbled something about taking better care of yourself. 

Then, one particularly cold Friday morning he has forgotten his coat. Dressed in a hoodie, he mirrors your excuse from the week prior, smiling sheepishly — face flushed from the chilly air, dark curls blowing around his head like a halo. You take pity on him, slipping your scarf off. You loop it around his neck, tucking the ends down into the collar of his sweater, and leave him with a fond peck on the cheek; his skin is cold. 

He's appreciative, though the scarf does little against the cold wind cutting through his sweater. Still, he doesn't give the scarf back. 

With the cold, comes midterms. You’re the first person Jace asks to study. 

Your dorm room is closer to the central part of campus, and thus a shorter walk in the bitter cold. Jace brushes snow out of his hair as you unlock your door, ushering him inside. It's small. Two twin-sized beds, one on each wall, with nary enough room for two bodies between them; a desk is crammed into the small space between your bed and the window. You let him take the desk, spreading your books and notes out across your bed.

Your dorm is old, and the room has very little ventilation. Despite the frigidity outside, the room is stuffy and almost hot with both of your bodies inside. An hour into studying Jace shrugs off his heavy, knit sweater and pushes his glasses up into his hair. 

“What are you working on?” You ask, leaning forward. You’re bored, working on the same power point you started yesterday. You want to talk to him, though he doesn’t seem keen on the idea

He doesn’t look up from typing as he speaks, “Analysing The Art of War.” 

You shut your laptop, bent on distracting him, “The book?” 

He nods but doesn’t give a verbal response. 

“Who's that by?” You ask, fighting to suppress a grin

This time he does look up, glaring at you over his glasses, “Sun Tzu.” 

His tone is short, but it's amusing to annoy him so you grin, suppressing a giggle, “Sounds very interesting.” 

“What do you want?” He asks after a beat, still holding your gaze. 

You shrug, “Nothing. I’m bored,” 

The next time you study is even less productive, school work discarded on his floor in a matter of minutes. 

“We can’t be trusted to work together,” He tells you, watching as you calculate his astrological chart, geometry homework forgotten. 

You attend your first college party together in November. When you arrive at his dorm, he’s dressed much more casually than normal. 

You reach out to tug at the thin silver chain peeking out from his shirt collar, “This is fun,” You tease, giggling, “Aiming to impress tonight?”

He rolls his eyes in mock-offence, turning you around by the shoulders to shove you out of the doorframe. 

The lights in the house are dim, and they strobe slowly through different colours. It’s too dark and too bright all at once. The music is almost unbearably loud and people are packed in like sardines, it’s all incredibly overstimulating. 

When he senses your unease, Jace takes your hand, pulling you tight against your side to lead you through the throng of bodies. He’s looking for someone, but you’re unsure who, and he canvases the whole space before giving up on finding them.

The backyard of the house is quieter, but the ground still vibrates from the bass of the music. People are scattered about, smoking cigarettes and sipping from bottles of cheap beer. 

You both learn what Jell-O shots are, and make out in the bathroom back at his dorm. It’s not the first time you’d kissed each other, trying it a few times in your adolescence just to see what it was like. But this is different, tipsy and sloppy, as you giggle into his mouth. 

It's forgotten in the morning, when you wake up in his bed still dressed in your going-out clothes, head pounding.

But then it happens again, the week before finals.

You had stayed at the library far too late studying, leaving the pair of you to walk back to his dorm in the dark. It's positively frigid, cold December air whipping snow into your face. 

There are still snowflakes in your hair as you shed the thick coat you’re wearing, pulling off your gloves and hat. 

There's a bottle of wine in Jace’s freezer, left by Aegon the weekend before. It's expensive and rich and red, and Aegon would likely skin you if he found out you were drinking it — but, that's part of the fun. There's a baking show on the small television, and you’re curled into Jace’s side to steal some of the warmth from his body.

When the program lulls he brings his hand to your hair, combing through the tangled strands. You pay it little mind, leaning into his touch as you watch a contestant on-screen whip macaron batter. His fingers slide down to your jaw, turning your head so your eyes meet his. He’s studying your face, cheeks flushed from the wine or the cold. 

The attention is odd, and you giggle nervously under his gaze. His hands come to cradle your jaw as he leans towards you, nose brushing yours. The air is charged with an unusual tension, his mouth a breath away from yours. 

When he kisses you, he’s slow and gentle, his whole body angled into yours. Everything feels warm, a welcome contrast to the weather outside, and you chalk it up to the glasses of wine coursing through your bloodstream. 

It's pleasant, different from times past; this certainly doesn’t feel like an innocent, experimental kiss. It's heated, tinged with passion. He uses the placement of his hand to ease your jaw open, tongue sliding slowly into your mouth. 

There's a vibe, something you hadn’t felt before with him. It's communicated through the gentle touch of his hands, and how his breath hitches when you kiss him back with the same sort of force. 

The moment is broken by the announcement of a winner on the television. His hands slide down, resting on your shoulders, pulling your frame into his. 

You don’t talk about it afterwards. 

[matchagator]

Sheltered: Chapter 15

When one of the hybrids catch a cold, the other's are faced with jealousy from the undivided attention the youngest is getting from the girls. To make it worse? Jungkook is still dealing with his rut and isn't thrilled to find Rose talking to another man.

{Main Pairings:} Jeon Jungkook/Original Female Character, Choi Soobin/Original Female Character, Kim Taehyung/Original Female Character(s)

{Rating:} 18+

{Genre:} Alternate Universe - Hybrids

{Summary:} Realization finally dawned on Lily, knowing she now had the responsibility of three hybrids rather than three dogs. Her eyes grew wide while her eyebrows rose up in wonder before she turned her attention to her sister. The shocked expression of Rose had her smile sheepishly. “Well, at least we don’t have to name them.”

{Warnings:} Mature Language, Rut/Mating Behaviors, Sexual Content, Humping, Hybrid Behavior, Possessive Tendencies

{Taglist:} @chimsworldsstuff

Chapter 15

Lily sat quietly in the front office space of the house, her toes surrounded by a plush clump of fur that nestled at her feet as Soobin lay directly beneath her desk. She was busy finalizing a few papers for work, attempting to complete another presentation for the following week. She tapped her pen restlessly, raking her mind for any ideas to elevate the current state of her presentation, knowing it seemed quite lackluster compared to her previous one.

Her thoughts were soon distracted by a loud sneeze that echoed in from the living room, followed by a series of soft sniffles. She raised an eyebrow curiously, turning her attention to the informational displays of data spread before her.

Soobin’s ear twitched at the sound of yet another loud sneeze, lifting his head gently from his paws as he stared at the doorway. Lily didn’t pay it much mind, understanding that sneezes tended to come in a series of two or three. She didn’t become alarmed until she heard deep-rooted coughs echoing behind the fourth or fifth sneeze.

As she stood from her seat, Jungkook appeared in the doorway of her office, his hair a fluffy mess as he was still coping with the effects of the sudden oncoming of his rut. “Lily…Taehyun’s not feeling well.” He spoke, the slightest hint of concern for the youngest brother gleaming in his eyes as Lily nodded in response.

“Not feeling well? Is he sick?” She pushed by the human doberman, snaking her way through the hallway until she came across the open-spaced living area, finding Taehyun slumped over on the couch, his nose red from his evident sneezing. He was lying on his side, his arms hugging his legs as he curled into a ball, a blanket covering his shivering body as yet another sneeze escaped his nostrils.

Lily wasted no time, moving to hover over him and press the back of her hand to his forehead. She was expecting a warm temperature, however, became extremely concerned once his skin matched the sensation of something that had just been chilled in the refrigerator. “Oh my god.” There was worry in her tone as she moved around the couch to grab another blanket, quickly tossing it over his body, the young hybrid whining from the chill of the air meeting his cool skin.

“He’s ice cold.” She added, observing his pale expression as she moved into the kitchen to fix him some soup. That should warm him up from the inside out. “One of you sit next to him. You’ll warm him up.” She called as Soobin and Jungkook glared at each other, silently debating who it should be.

Soobin cracked a mischievous smile as he sensed Jungkook’s rut, glancing at Lily with every intention of exposing him. “JK has his rut! His body’s running hot anyways, he should do it.” Jungkook shot him a glare only to receive a wide-eyed expression from Lily. Rose informed her of Jungkook’s abnormal behaviors the night before, he was running hot and seemed disheveled, now Soobin just informed her that he hit his rut. She barely managed Soobin’s rut and now Jungkook was comfortable enough to let his start which only meant his sexual intentions towards her sister were from choosing who he wanted to mess with.

Despite the fact that Soobin knew Jungkook had an attraction to Rose, he still couldn’t help but feel extra protective of Lily during someone else’s rut. Jungkook let out a huff, moving to sit next to Taehyun as he let his body warm up the area around them. He knew exactly why Soobin exposed him, wanting to make sure he had Lily all to himself as he moved to join her in the kitchen.

Soobin placed a hand around Lily’s waist as she poured a prepackaged soup pouch into a pot of boiling water. While Soobin attempted to grab her attention with sweet kisses to the back of her nape, he was met with the cold wave of reality that Lily was completely uninvested with him, her attention fully on Taehyun and making his soup. Soobin’s lips pulled to a pout, a feeling of jealousy festering at the pit of his stomach. “Can I help you cook?” He offered, knowing that doing an act of service for her might catch her attention.

“Actually, can you go get a washcloth and run it under hot water for his forehead?” Soobin froze at her words, not expecting her to simply shoo him away to tend to Taehyun. He let out a sigh as he turned to fetch the item of her request.

While he felt bad for Taehyun, he couldn’t help but feel sour at the amount of attention he was receiving from the older brunette. As he walked past the living room, he was met with a smirk from Jungkook who was enjoying the sight of Soobin struggling for Lily’s attention just as he had for Rose’s.

At that moment, the sound of the garage door opening pulled everyone’s curiosity as Rose arrived home from a morning shift at the restaurant. Jungkook eagerly stood from the couch, her scent sparking his rut as lust coursed through his body. He moved to greet her, thankful for the smile she flashed in his direction as he approached the garage door. His mind flashed with vivid images of him taking her into her bedroom and finishing what they started the night before.

“Rose, Taehyun is sick.” Lily’s voice resonated from the kitchen, causing the youngest sister to pause, completely ignoring Jungkook as she set her bag down and moved around him to venture toward Taehyun.

“Are you feeling okay?’ Her voice was laced with sympathy as she observed the sweet young hybrid shivering on the couch as he awaited the warm soup. He smiled weakly at Rose, a slight whine escaping his lips as Rose melted before him. “Poor baby.” She sat down beside him, wrapping her arms around his torso as she pulled him into her and allowed his body to rest against hers. “He’s so cold.”

Jungkook’s jaw practically dropped, stunned that Rose had barely acknowledged him and simply sought out Taehyun. Sure he was sick, but he wasn’t dying. Soobin was back just in time to watch the scene unfold, flashing Jungkook the same expression of amusement he had shown him earlier, thrilled that he, too, was being ignored by the girls. It was even more amusing for Soobin to watch Jungkook since his rut was causing him to be more emotionally invested in the abandonment, observing as the eldest hybrid ran his hands through the ruffled hair atop his head in a desperate attempt to calm his emotions.

As the early afternoon progressed, Soobin and Jungkook found themselves sitting on one side of the sectional, glaring in the opposite direction as Taehyun was sandwiched between their two ladies. Their jealousy festered as they watched Rose and Lily wrap Taehyun in their arms, attending to his needs and providing him with specially cooked food and treats such as hot chocolate to try and make him feel better.

Jungkook seemed worse off, his rut causing him to be aggressively possessive as he craved to have Rose by his side. Unfortunately, his evening turned into a series of harsh glares, growls, and the pressing of his tongue against his cheek in aggravation as he stared her down.

Taehyun seemed to be zoning out from his exhaustion which only pulled the attention of the girls. “Let's get you to bed.” Lily shifted in her seat, standing to help Taehyun up as she glanced over at Soobin. “Think you could sleep on the couch tonight? I don’t want him to sleep on the edge of the bed when he’s not feeling well.” Soobin blinked, hearing a soft chuckle escape from Jungkook beside him.

He didn’t want to. He knew Taehyun would be way more comfortable resting in his human form which meant there wouldn’t be much room since he was so tall as a human and quite large as a husky. He sighed in defeat as Lily’s eyes pleaded with him, nodding in agreement despite the jealous rage burning in his chest.

Jungkook perked up in his spot, glancing back at Soobin with a look of victory as he placed his arms behind his head. “Sucks to be you.” He tutted arrogantly, thrilled that he’d be alone with Rose in bed later that night, his mind racing with all of the ways he could pull her body against his. His ear twitched at the sound of Rose leaving Lily and Taehyun to go to her room. He stood curiously, hearing her fingers type away on her computer keyboard as he moved to stalk her whereabouts.

—

After the incident with Taehyung’s visit, Rose was desperate to make amends before she had to face him at school. She reached out and convinced him to join her on a video call from her laptop, hoping to show him her sincerity and to take another look at their project board for final touches. She tucked a foot under her bottom as she gently pushed the swivel chair back and forth. She had her laptop resting on her simple desk table which faced her bed and the project was on stand-by as she pulled up the program.

She took a deep breath before clicking on Taehyung’s contact, initiating the video call. She sighed as she adjusted in her chair, hearing the electronic dial tone as she waited for him to answer. The tone died as the once black screen filled with a view of Taehyung’s handsome smile with a landscape of what she could only assume was his bedroom. “Hey!” They both said at the same time.

“Jinx! You owe me a coffee!” Rose claimed quickly before Taehyung could interject with a notion of his own.

He simply chuckled, “I thought it was supposed to be a soda?”

His deep laughter made Rose feel warm as she fought the girlish giggle that tried to escape through her smile. “Yeah, well I prefer Starbucks.”

Taehyung gasped dramatically, placing a hand on his chest as if he was stabbed by her words. “Starbucks? I'd rather pay your tuition.”

She rolled her eyes as he laughed at his own joke. “Be my guest.” His laughter calmed down and Rose began twiddling her thumbs, unaware that Jungkook had poked his head inside her room and could hear Taehyung’s voice through her headphones. “Seriously though, I’m really sorry about the other day. JK- I mean Kookie doesn’t take well to strangers and if I’m honest, that was the first time we brought a guy over.”

She thought about Jungkook’s behavior a lot and she remembered that he confessed that he felt jealous, but a part of her wondered if it was tied to his alpha male complex. “Oh, is that so?” Taehyung hummed, eyeing her through the screen with a playful smirk. “I bet that’s what you say to all the men you try to chase off.” He winked at her before a large smile plastered over his face.

“Oh my gosh, no! I swear!” She defended, heat rising to her cheeks. He was flirting with her, right? Or was she just imagining things? Jungkook narrowed his eyes as he stealthily came into the room before closing the door behind him. He descended to the floor, morphing into the doberman figure as he stalked toward the desk. He wasn’t even physically here and her heart was beating like a rabbit. Taehyung must be the reason she’s fighting her feelings. Well, he would fix that.

“Oh hey, speak of the devil…” Rose’s crush acknowledged, looking not at her but off the side. She turned her head to find her troublesome doberman staring up at her, hunched over as if he were on the prowl.

She brushed her nails across his scalp, “What’s wrong, Kookie?” She had a hunch, but only prayed he would behave during her video call. Jungkook sniffed her hand, following the length of her body until he began crawling under her desk. She tilted her head at him curiously as he poked around, on the hunt for something. “Okay…” She rejoined her classmate, trying her best to ignore the dog at her feet. “I guess he’s looking for food.”

“He ain’t nothing, but a hound dog…” He sang playfully, causing Rose to laugh and roll her eyes again. Jungkook transformed back into a human as she rolled forward, bringing herself closer to the screen. He pressed himself back against the wall so she wouldn’t notice he was naked until it was too late. He smirked as he waited for the opportune moment to strike, his pupils slowly dilating as he stared straight ahead to the junction between her legs.

“Anyway, I just want you to know, that I feel really bad about what happened. Can you forgive me?” She pouted her lips and fluttered her eyelashes obnoxiously, clasping her hands together as a plea.

Taehyung bit his lip, admiring how adorable she looked with her big blue eyes staring at him in such a way. He leaned into the camera, a smirk crawling in its appropriate place. “Well, someone mentioned coffee…” He was trying to be coy. “Maybe we can make it a date?”

Her features dropped as her heart seized in her chest. Was he asking her out? Or was it a friendly thing like before? What should she say? “A date? A coffee date?” She asked, helplessly. She suddenly felt numb; what if he said it was a real date? So many questions ran through her head, but ultimately, she was unnerved about how guilt weighed on her as she was reminded of Jungkook sitting just below her.

Jungkook held his breath as he digested the reactions of Rose’s body and placed context behind the word ‘date.’ He didn’t like where their conversation was going and it took everything in him not to ravage her. He waited for Taehyung’s response. “It can be if you want.” Wrong answer.

As Rose’s mind completely shut down from all her overthinking, Jungkook snatched her ankle and pulled it out from under her so that he could spread her legs. His touch startled her as she pushed back on the desk to see what he was doing, but gasped when she saw he was completely naked with his penis hard and angry for attention. “What-”

Before she could finish her question, Jungkook pulled the chair forward before he leaned up on his knees to bring her plush ass to sit on the edge of her seat. She tried to push away from his hold as her ribs hit the edge of her desk.

“Are you okay?” She looked up to see Taehyung staring at her curiously, unaware that Jungkook was pulling her pants off just out of his view. She straightened herself while swatting at Jungkook’s hands that squeezed her bare thighs.

She shuddered as his warm breath hit the entrance of her vagina, hovering just an inch from her labia. “Yeah, I’m fine. I-” Her body tensed as Jungkook firmly pressed his face into her pussy, pushing his tongue into her opening. “Fuck…” She pressed a hand to her mouth to muffle the moan that escaped her lips. She felt out of control and Taehyung innocently watched as she was defiled before him, waiting for her to answer. She needed to end this call. “I hit my toe.”

Taehyung cringed, “Oh yeah, that’s the worst.”

Jungkook pressed his tongue fully over her core and licked it all the way up to her clit before sucking the bud between his lips. Rose choked back the gasp tickling her throat. “I h-have to go. Talk to you s-soon.” Without hesitation she closed the call and slammed her laptop down as she fell back against the chair, relaxing as she let out the built-up moans.

She weakly crawled away from his mouth, the moisture of her arousal and his saliva creating a cold feeling as the air hit her intimacy. “What is wrong with you?” She asked, her frustration diminished by the pleasure that coursed through her body.

“Giving you a reminder.” He pushed the chair away, crawling out from underneath the desk to stand fully in front of her. His erection standing up proudly in her face would have been intimidating, but she was too turned on to care how it pointed aggressively at her. “Come here.” He bent down to pick her up with a strong grip on her rear. He moved around the chair and tossed her on the bed like a bag of potatoes.

She groaned as her body hit the mattress, letting her muscles relax from the tension he put her through just moments ago. She lifted her head to glance at Jungkook, who stood just at the edge of her bed looking down at her like a predator. “JK?”

“Fuck yes.” He hissed, crawling across the duvet and up over her body, stopping just below her belly button. He maneuvered her legs open again, diving his mouth back into pleasure her until all she thought about was him and no one else. The abrupt shock of desire caused Rose to throw her head back, desperate breaths dragging from her lungs as she tried to calm the overwhelming lust. It was commandeering her limbs, making them act on their own as her hands gripped his hair and pushed his head down.

Her hips moved against his tongue, letting the wet muscle run across her tender bud and stack her ecstasy, the tower ready to tumble at any given moment. Jungkook thrusted his cock into the duvet, stimulating his length with the creamy softness of the sheets as he imagined fucking the pussy he so greedily devoured. He leaned up just enough to bring a hand up and pushed a finger inside, sighing with satisfaction as her walls strangled his index.

He glanced up at her face, her mouth open in rapture, letting small moans dance from her windpipe as he dragged his finger deeper before pulling it back out. He almost had her right where he wanted her, just a little longer and he would know for sure that she was ready for him to take her. He licked his lips, catching her essence on his tongue. “Tell me how it feels.” He spoke dominantly.

Rose’s senses were hindered by her lustful haze so he repeated himself and paused his movements. He chuckled as her body chased his touch, begging for stimulation. “It feels good, so good. Please!”

He teased her entrance with the tip of his finger, grazing it along her opening and flicking her clit. “Who's making you feel so good?” He leaned down and blew air on her dripping center.

Rose reached down to grab his hair again, needy for release. “You are.” She cried, hoping he’d take mercy on her.

He blinked and his irises were completely black as a smirk flashed over his lips then he dove back in, sucking on her clit while he fucked her with his thick fingers. She forgot how to breathe as her hands gripped the nearest object to keep her grounded. Her thighs squeezed around his head as he feasted on her like his last meal. His mouth left her again, panting for air. “Say it again!” He demanded, feeling them both climbing to the top. “Who makes your pussy feel this good?”

“You do, you do! Jungkook!” Her spine was unnaturally curved off the bed as he aggressively pushed her over the edge, a strangled scream leaving her lips as she gushed over his fingers. Jungkook growled as he sped up the pace of his hand, working her through her orgasm as he drank up the sweet nectar. Her essence on his taste buds and infiltrating his lungs completely wrecked him as he pushed his throbbing member into the duvet, cumming all over the bedspread.

Their ragged breathing filled the room as he pulled his fingers from her warmth and rolled to the side to gather himself. Rose stared up at the ceiling as their circumstances fell upon her once again. She found herself at a loss for words as she lay there next to the hybrid that just rocked her world with only his hands and mouth. He sluggishly moved from the bed and headed for the bathroom, shooting her a smile before closing the door.

When she heard the shower, she sat up from the bed and gathered her discarded clothes from the floor to cover her legs again. She cringed from the moist feeling between her legs left from the remnants of his tongue and moved slowly to find her sister. She waddled past the living room and noticed Soobin looking at her with wide eyes like he knew her dirty secret.

She knocked on her sister’s bedroom door. She distantly heard a frustrated sigh and then footsteps. “Soobin, I-” Lily opened her bedroom door expecting the husky to be pouting at her, but instead found her little sister, looking disheveled and flushed. “Are you okay?”

Rose pressed her lips firmly together, feeling slightly ashamed to have this conversation. “Not really…I’m so confused.” She didn’t know what to think of Taehyung or Jungkook and it felt like they were playing tug of war on her heart, but the fight was far from fair. Jungkook played dirty and had an advantage since he lived with her. “We need to talk, but first, can I use your bathroom?”

Previous | Next

[corviisquire]

All of the colours and emojis for Ranne :3

damn my fingers gonna be hurtingggg

Pardon grammar mistakes.

Red ❤️ - What is a trait your OC has that those around them don't see very often? Is it seen by a rare few or completely overlooked?

Answered.

Orange 🧡 - What is a trait your OC hides about themself from others? Do they refuse to acknowledge it or begrudgingly accept it?

Ranne is extremely stubborn. They’re aware and they honestly don’t care. If their determined to, let’s say, kill a specific god, they will hunt them down until the are dead. Even if there’s consequences or harm is inflicted upon themselves.

Yellow 💛 - What is something your OC wants but knows they can never have? How does it feel to never get this specific desire?

They want to keep Milborough safe. TOO BAD HE EATS SHIT AND DIES AHAH LMFAOOOOO

Green 💚 - What is considered a weakness in your OC that is actually a strength? What is a strength in your character that can be twisted into a weakness?

Ranne’s stubbornness and violence is a double edged sword in the way that: It makes people fear them and therefore earns them respect but later in the story, their and easy target for being a scapegoat for a a lot of death surrounding the schism that happens in the god sphere.

Blue 💙🩵 - How would your OC spend a single day of interrupted peace? Where would they go or who would they be with?

Answered.

Purple 💜 - What is something that your OC could not live without? What keeps them grounded in the worst of times?

Solitude. They already have enough as it is but Ranne isolates themselves for good or for worse.

White 🤍 - When was a moment in your OC's life that they felt the most vulnerable and exposed? Were they alone or surrounded?

Probably when Milborough begins to seek out Ranne and take down their barriers. As much as Ranne secretly enjoys it, they also hate it. They hate the fact that they’re letting themselves be vulnerable and that they enjoy Milborough prying away Ranne’s exterior. Another time is when Milborough is killed and Ranne can’t save him.

Black 🖤 - When was a moment in your OC's life that they felt the most in control and secure? Was it gained through negative or positive means?

When Ranne gets their revenge on Lorelei. Still working out the kinks 🤷‍♂️

8 Ball 🎱 - What situation was your OC lucky to escape from or get out of? What or who helped them unexpectedly?

Honestly, idk. Maybe when Ranne challenges higher ranked gods during the schism war thing??

Crystal Ball 🔮 - What kind of future does your OC want to have? What would they do to make it real?

They want Lorelei dead and Milborough safe but sadly they don’t get that.

Disco Ball 🪩 - What was an achievement that your OC felt worthy of celebrating? Was it a personal victory or a big impact on everyone around them?

Answered.

Soccer Ball ⚽️ - Who is someone that your OC believes in and roots for? Are they private about their admiration or do they make it well known?

Loves Milborough and keeps it VERY private. Very cold towards everyone including Milborough. They keep it as secret as possible because the world isn’t happy and lovely and sunshine and rainbows because there are evil deities who like to cause pain!!!

[a-student-out-of-time]

If you want a more analytical take on ‘Queen of Despair’ from me, personally I feel like the reason LINUJ went ‘BTW these two are terrible people’ in the narration is because Iroha’s and Syobai’s actions fall into ‘Pay Evil unto Evil.’ territory. Like oh no they are scamming people that’s bad. But…they’re scamming Despairs who are basically demons incarnate so they basically deserved to get all their money stolen. I feel like he was trying to avoid people developing that mindset. (1/2)

//That’s a different take and one I can see working

//The thing is, while it’s a problem both have as writers, I think LINUJ is actually worse than Kodaka in that respect. While Kodaka doesn’t really present a nuanced view, he at least lets the events of the stories and actions of the characters largely stand on their own. He presents the conflict in extremely good vs. evil terms, to be sure, but that’s more of a lack of nuance

//LINUJ has the problem of being able to present a more nuanced view, then backpedaling and specifying who was wrong, that they’re bad people and that we shouldn’t agree with them.

Some examples:

Kizuna finds out that Yuki and Akane were the masterminds and tries to kill them despite both of them being amnesic of their identities...oh, but she’s a gold-digger and a bully, so we can’t say she was doing the right thing

Syobai was abandoned by his parents in another country, nearly sold into slavery and had to get by through selling whatever he could to survive. Despite becoming a cold-blooded survivor, he still has a sense of honor and takes a stand in favor of helping the others over saving himself...oh, but he’s still human garbage, so we can’t like him.

Kokoro is a genius with Alexithymia who wants to study human emotions, and while she has some darker qualities to her goal, she still has a caring and compassionate side and it was that lack of emotional understanding that sadly got her killed...oh but she’s also an abusive mother and nothing anyone did could’ve gotten her to change.

The Voids are a group of scared, lost, desperate children who are seeking out the power of Utsuro because it’s the only thing that’ll allow them to survive once their Divine Luck flips, and they’ll either return to their old lives or die...oh, but they’re still the masterminds of the game and thus deserve every bad thing that happens to them. They’re fated to die regardless of what anyone does.

//And that’s not even touching on the fact that he completely rewrote his plans for Kanade because of V3′s third chapter, and then talked about how her entire character now revolves around her her creepy obsession with her sister, and how nothing anybody did would’ve changed how she turns out

//I know LINUJ has a very different view on human nature from me, and I’m not gonna say he’s wrong. I’ll stick to my views on storytelling and just say that I don’t much care for stories or authors that feel the need to spell out who you should and shouldn’t be rooting for

//It almost feels disrespectful to fans of those characters if you tell them that they’re wrong for liking them and sympathizing with them, and it exposes a sort of narrative insecurity where you feel like people won’t grasp that what they did was wrong. Not to mention the idea that none of them would ever change, which...I mean, I don’t want to get into it, but that’s not a take on humanity I agree with either.

//Kodaka, for all his flaws as a writer, at least is willing to let people like villainous or morally ambiguous characters, and doesn’t go out of his way to tell you who’s right or wrong, or that they never would’ve changed no matter the circumstance.

//But most of all, it’s a disappointing case of show, don’t tell. If you want me to believe that these characters were bad people incapable of true growth or redemption as people, it’s up to you as the creator to make that abundantly clear in the story itself and not just their character sheet or a Q/A

//Some details can be left as author’s notes, but when it’s core to them as characters or the stories, you need to bring your A-game and make that obvious within the narrative

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Hey, i was wondering if you could make a Eddie Munson & a plus-size girl or reader ? Write everything you want, with smut or not :)

Yes. Love.

I hate swimming.

As a child, I never wanted to go to the beach or the local Hawkin's pool or even get remotely close to wearing anything revealing. I didn't want to wear something I was uncomfortable with or feel the pressure to wear something that I wasn't comfortable with but growing up, there was a sense of pressure always, especially in teen years.

With puberty, I gained weight, my hips got fuller especially but so did the rest of me. It was extremely hard to watch the other girls around me have such an easy time with growing up and filling out. They were all proportional and even if they did gain some weight like I did, they seemed to rock it better than anything. Then there were girls like Nancy Wheeler and Robin Buckley, both of who I'm close friends with, who were blessed with beautiful cheekbones and a high metabolism.

But swimming, yeah, I always hated swimming.

But diving into Lover's Lake after watching Steve slip under the surface and not come up left me no choice but to jump into the water without time to think. But now as I'm following along with the group, my hands wrapped around me anxiously as my clothes stick to my wet skin, I feel like crying.

"Hey, are you cold?" Eddie appears to my left with a soft smile on his lips, his eyes trailing over my body as I cringe. He's never known about my deep rooted body anxiety, only knowing how much he loves my curves and every stretch mark that lines my body.

"No, just hate being wet." I huff, pulling my shirt away from my body with a frown, wishing I had a change of clothes, a sweatshirt and sweatpants, something to hide under and not feel so exposed.

"I could argue that-"

"Shut it." My hand whacks against his arm as he chuckles, his bright smile soothing my anxious thoughts. Silently, he slips off his jacket, holding it out to me as my brows furrow. His eyes are knowing, almost as if he can and has been reading my mind since we've come out of the water.

"I can tell you're uncomfortable and I can see the looks you're throwing Wheeler and Robin." Helping me slip my arms into the warm jacket, I already feel ten times more comfortable as the jacket covers me down to my thighs. I let out a breath of relief as he wraps an arm around my shoulder, pressing a kiss to my temple as he whispers. "I see you, you don't have to explain." Tears prick at my eyes as I shake my head, feeling so stupid for worrying about something that seems so middle school, so childish. But Eddie made me feel real, he validated the worries and anxiety. "And if it means anything, I think you're beautiful and the sight of you makes me melt." My eyes close at his reassessment, feeling him so close to me, in such an unsettling environment with so much discomfort, it does help more than he'll ever realize.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the-heart @vampviolets@haylee-e@popehaywardssecretgf @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife @smoke-and-fire @officiallyunofficialperson@heyaitsklaudia@rosepetalsparks @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx @double-shot-of-tequila @1dluver13xx @colbysbrocks @iamasimpingh0e @smoke-and-fire386 @loveshineslikethesky @id-3-kbro @diorsitgirl @errorfound101-allideasburnedout @neverwillknowme18 @ellyskey @taylors-folk @loversjoy

[jenomark]

➔Pairing: Jeno x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: -.- ➔Genre: Smut (with a plot!) ➔Warnings: Sexual tension & Penetration. ➔Word count: 2,470

➔Summary: You haven't called your ex-boyfriend in two years, but he's the first person you call when you're in a bit of trouble. He comes when you call, thus sparking a night neither of you will be able to move on from.

Anon request #1: can I request an ex to lovers scenario with jeno where his ex and him decided to stay as friends and since always they had a huge tension and after 2 years they got really flirty or smth, thanks💖

Anon request #2: hi, I want to request a drabble about sex with jeno, thank you!!

Jeno looked at his buzzing cell phone and blinked lazily. He hadn't seen your number come up since you broke up with him, which had to have been two years ago. He had managed to stay friends with you over those two years, but you were never friendly enough to call each other at three in the morning. Still, Jeno picked up the call to hear static at the other end of the line, wondering if he would still feel the same when he heard the sound of your voice.

"Hello?"

There was more static. When he thought you might have pocket dialed him, and he was getting ready to hang up, he heard your voice. Time seemed to slow down in those moments.

"Jeno?" you said. "I don't have good service out here. I'm scared, Jeno."

Feeling his heart race, Jeno asked, "Where are you? What is going on?"

"Off the highway. My car broke down." you said. "Can you come get me?"

Jeno sprang out of bed immediately, tearing the covers from his naked body. He got dressed while keeping you on the phone with him, so that you weren't scared. He drove to where you were, pulling over to the side of the road. When you saw him, you got out of your car and stood awkwardly, wringing your hands together.

"I know I shouldn't have called you first," you started to say. "But i-"

"-It's okay." he said, meaning it.

Jeno was bone tired, but being in front of you made him more alert. Though you broke his heart, he was still so careful with yours. Jeno came over to your car to look at it, pulling up the hood like he had any idea what he was truly doing. You watched his muscles as he fiddled around with stuff, your eyes slightly glazing over.

"I don't know much about cars." he said, shutting the hood. "I'll call someone to come pick this up. Until then, I will drive you back home. It's too late for us to be waiting out here."

You nodded and followed him back to his car. He made the call quickly before setting his cell phone down in the cup holder. There was so much gratitude for him in the silence, but you couldn't seem to get any of your thoughts out. You were still thinking about his muscles, about how handsome he looked at nearly four in the morning.

"It's done," he said. "They'll pick your car up soon. You can figure out what to do about it tomorrow."

"Thank you." you said.

It had started to rain. A few droplets hit the front of his windshield before a whole sheet of rain came down, hitting the top of his roof as hard as rocks. He could barely see out of the windshield, so he decided to wait for the storm to pass. It was awkward inside of the car, and too quiet.

You cleared your throat. "Are you seeing anyone?"

Jeno looked over at you, his eyebrows raised in surprise. Seeing his expression, you realized what an invasive question it was. You tried backtracking, but you were sputtering your words enough to make Jeno laugh.

"Relax," he said. "I'm not seeing anyone."

You didn't know what you were thinking. Maybe you were too tired to think straight. Maybe it was the sound of the rain. Maybe it was the way he looked at you in the darkness of the car. You reached over and touched the hand that rested on the steering wheel until he looked you in your eyes.

"You got Lasik eye surgery." you said. "You used to look so cute in your glasses."

For Jeno, it was easy. There has always been sexual tension between you. Touching the top of your hand felt natural. He leaned over, grabbed your chin and kissed you. You made out, completely unaware that the rain had stopped. When everything slowed down, you were straddling Jeno in his seat, and his hands were on your ass. You parted, your eyes staying on his lips until he spoke.

"I should get you home." he said.

"You should come home with me." you said, surprising yourself more than him.

Jeno laughed and eased your body off of his. "I want that more than you know, but I don't think it's a good idea. I could never control myself around you. "

Jeno drove you home, the only sound in the car coming from the windshield wipers noisily wiping away droplets of rain. You followed the blades swiping left to right, your brain in a funk.

Breaking up with Jeno was one of your top ten mistakes. You weren't as wise as you are now. You didn't know what you had when you let it go. You had carried his hurt with you everywhere you went for two years. Though you remained as friends, there was always weird tension whenever you met up with each other. His group of friends didn't trust you, and your group of friends always took your side, even though each of them was in love with Jeno. Your shared friends didn't get into the middle of it, and you and Jeno spent 24 months skating around unspoken apologies.

"We never had a chance to talk alone." you said, finally getting the bravery to speak out. “There are a lot of things left unsaid.”

Jeno pulled up in front of your house. You weren't surprised he knew where you had moved to, because you had been dropping hints for months. You had always hoped Jeno would roll up one day and give you another chance you didn't quite think you deserved.

"We don't have to talk about it now. "It's early in the morning and we both could use some sleep," he said.

You hummed in agreement, looking out of the rain soaked window at your lonely, dark house. You looked up at the sky and wanted the sun to come up, to cast a pretty glow over you and soften the experience of sitting with your ex in his car.

"You're like my knight in shining armor." you said. "I owe you a lot."

You had your hand on the door handle. You wanted to lean over and kiss him the way he kissed you, but your bravery only went so far. Jeno seemed to be thinking a similar thing. His eyes fell to your lips. Before either of you could act, he unlocked his doors.

"Get some sleep." he said, rubbing his arms as if he were cold. "I'll check in tomorrow to see how you're doing. I don't want them overcharging you for their services. If you want, I can go with you to make sure they don't."

"Okay." was all you could say. You got out of the car, tapped on his window as a way to say thank you and walked up the pathway to your house. You touched your fingers to your lips and remembered the way he tasted.

Jeno stayed there idling while you put your lock into the door and turned the handle. Once you were safely inside, you didn't wait to see if he had driven away.

You walked into your home, not caring enough to flick lights on. You weren’t as tired as before. Making out with Jeno had felt like an IV of caffeine had slipped into your bloodstream. Your body felt swollen in places, your heart most of all. You walked through the rooms, taking off your bra underneath your t-shirt and flinging it across the back of your couch. Your foot was on the first step of your stairs when you heard a soft rapping sound on your front door. Backtracking, you walked back to the door and flung it open, crossing one of your arms against your chest to hide yourself.

“Hi,” Jeno said.

He stood rooted to the spot, his eyes darting frantically around your face. You had no time to greet him back before he stepped over the threshold and took your lips against his. You moved your arm and let him smash his hard chest against your free breasts. Your nipples were aroused and you knew he could feel them against the thin material of his t-shirt. You threw your arms around his neck and clung to him, savoring the taste and feel of him.

“I know I said no but....” he said, between kisses. “It was very hard to watch you walk away from me just now.”

You kissed him and bit down on his lip, pulling it lightly with your teeth before letting go. “Take me to bed.” you said. “Or the floor...the couch..i don’t care, Jeno, just take me.”

Jeno picked you up into his arms. He shut your front door and locked it behind him without ever taking himself away from your lips. He was strong enough to carry you upstairs without struggling, which made you even more aroused than you already felt.

“To the left.” you whispered against his mouth.

It was strange having him in your new bedroom, yet, there was something familiar about seeing him amongst your possessions. He felt like he belonged. Jeno set you down on your bed and let out a groan of approval when you wouldn’t let go of his neck. You tried to trap him with your thighs, but he had pinned your arms above your head, which made you release him. Your body relaxed, half hanging off of your bed. Your stomach was bare where your shirt had ridden up, so Jeno leaned down to kiss it. He pushed it all the way up to expose your bare breasts and take them in your mouth one at a time. He was really going at it, feeling them and teasing them, when you put a stop to things and slipped out from underneath him.

“Can you give me a moment?” you asked, your face growing hot. “ I just need a second.”

Jeno sighed but agreed. He sat on the edge of your bed and watched you slink into your bathroom. You tried your best to freshen up, to get the 5 a.m stink off of you. Your mind was frantic and thinking of a million things that could go wrong. You realized that you were extremely nervous. The door to the bathroom slowly opened to reveal Jeno standing there with his hands in his pockets, and all of those thoughts faded like ghosts into the foreground.

“What are you doing?” he asked, crooking his finger. “Get over here.”

It was much easier than you thought it would be. It was like two friends getting together after a long time, friends that knew each other’s bodies inside and out. You tore off your shirt, not caring whether your armpits were sweating anymore. He met your breasts and moaned in appreciation as his mouth got back to business. On the bed, he rolled on top of you, laying kisses all down your body. You lifted your head up and let him nip at your neck. You took your hands and placed them underneath his t-shirt to touch his abs.

“Well,” you breathed. “This has changed.”

Jeno could only laugh. He took off his shirt and let you admire his body, which had definitely changed since the last time you took him to bed. You touched the hardness of his chest, down to the smoothness of tummy leading down to his cock, which you remembered in every detail. You sidled underneath him and let your tongue taste the salt on his skin. You bit down on his shoulder and looked him in the eyes.

Your body had changed, too. You were softer in a lot of places, which Jeno loved. He wanted to touch and savor all of you. There was an overeagerness to him that stifled any remaining awkwardness there could have been. He bit down on your shoulder in response, scraping his teeth against your skin before he met your mouth. His tongue wound its way around yours for a few seconds, just relishing the feeling of them together.

Once all the clothes were removed, a desperation started to change the atmosphere. Things were no longer silly. He didn’t laugh. You didn’t go anywhere but in his arms. The rain on the window was quiet but present. The sun was seeping into your skin where you lay underneath him. There was a moment where he grabbed your face between his hands and held you there, his thumb brushing across your cheek. He kissed you sweetly, his lips full.

When Jeno entered you, it was like all the memories of your sex life came flooding back. You would always miss him inside of you when he wasn’t there, miss the full feeling that came when he penetrated you for the very first time. You had missed the sounds his throat made whenever he concentrated on pleasuring you. You hadn’t forgotten how skilled his fingers were at fondling you, or how each stroke never failed to make you lose all thought. He fucked your body like it meant something in the morning glow. He didn’t slow down for anything, not even when he felt your fingernails digging into his back.

He had let you take control. You moved on top of him and sank down onto his cock, holding onto his arms as you did. With your hands pressed against his chest, you moved. You rode Jeno wildly, bucking against his pelvis with abandon. He tugged on your hair when you tilted your chin towards the ceiling. He gripped your waist. He smacked your ass. He did everything in his power to bring you back to him every time you slipped away. Your eyes eventually found him again. You moved lower and rode him, your sweaty body gliding against his. He held you, his thick arm around your neck as he felt your walls contract, as you came around his cock.

You wanted to cry out, wanted to bring the room down around you. You kept fucking him, wanting to coax the cum from his cock, to feel the warmth moving downwards with gravity. You wanted to keep it going forever, but it wasn’t meant to be. It had been a long time since you two had made love, and your bodies were too excited to hold back.

You knew there would be a talk somewhere in the future, when he was ready. As Jeno screwed up his face in orgasm, as you felt the warmth of his cum, you were a little too happy to prolong that conversation. You wanted him in your life for a long time but, for now, you would take him any way you could get him.

[damiano-mylove]

Paintings and Peach Juice

Pairing: Ethan Torchio x afab!reader (I'm so sorry)

Wc: 1.5k

Cw(s): SMUT, swearing, oral (reader receiving), lowkey praise kink, but pretty vanilla (tell me if it sucks)

Summary: You, the reader, work on a painting during the night, but Ethan wants to bring you back to bed.

Masterlist

Paint stroked across the canvas in perfect placement with your brush. It laid onto the stretched canvas like the softest butter on the warmest toast. Every stroke, every colour, the portrait was only enhanced and made that much more beautiful by your talent. The smell of the oil paints filled the room, vented out by the window across from you; the scent only relaxed you further. Your thoughts roamed to the most peaceful crevasse of your mind while your hands seemed to know just what to do.

By the corner of your eye, you caught your reflection in the mirror in your living room. You had a paint smear on your cheek, and the messiest hairstyle you'd ever seen. But you looked happy. In the bright moonlight from the window, your eyes glistened with thought and concentration. You smiled to your reflection before continuing your painting.

In just a few days, Ethan would finally be allowed to see the painting. He'd promised he hadn't seen it, and you had to trust that he hadn't ruined his birthday present, that you've been working so hard on, for himself. While Ethan was milling about and awake, you'd had to cover the canvas in a cloth, but when he was gone or asleep, you sat right on your cushioned stool, legs crossed, totally ensconced by the artwork at your fingertips.

Just as you began touching up the whites of Ethan's eyes, on the portrait, you heard his soft footsteps against the hardwood floor of your flat. You quickly but carefully covered the painting with your cloth, that once was white but now appeared yellow with a streak of blue paint. Languid and nimble were your movements, just as Ethan rounded the corner into the living room, where you were.

His perfectly sculpted lips pulled into a smile, only revealing to you that he was still partially asleep. You grinned right back at the man without any clothing, save for his boxers. Your gorgeous swain padded toward you, then wrapped his strong arms around your middle. His lips, that were still slick with lip balm, met with the most tender part of your neck.

"Bed's cold without you," Ethan whispered in your ear. You sighed with a small smile, turning your head to capture Ethan's lips with your own very chastely. Within the kiss, Ethan began to smile before he spun your stool around to place his hands on your thighs.

Once the kiss broke, you sighed, "Five more minutes?"

"Amorino." His tone was the perfect bridge between authoritative and begging, only enhanced by him removing his hands. Sweetly, you pulled Ethan toward you with your legs. His warm, rough hand traveled up your leg as he came forward, only to rest on the underside of your thigh, that wrapped around his waist.

Gently, your fingers touched to his jaw. They danced just every so slightly as your hand began to rest, cupping his jaw, with your fingertips touching the roots of his illustrious hair.  Ethan's other hand pulled you infinitely closer, with his fingers gripping your waist as if you were the most expensive glass in the world; not hard enough to break you, but not soft enough to drop you.

In a steady yet slow movement, both of your leaned forward just enough till your lips came together, softer than The Creation of Adam. Your other leg hooked around his waist, to join the first, and Ethan picked you up with ease. He'd never had any trouble picking you up, even in a sleep coated state.

The kiss continued with a warm passion that translated between both of your souls, that you could feel from the pit of your stomach to the tip of your brain. Warmth from Ethan's skin was absorbed by your own skin, only forcing your heart to ache, along with the sweet watermelon taste from his lip balm that he applied every night before bed.

His footsteps were very sure and steady as Ethan brought you to the couch. The room got warmer, despite the cool Autumn air coming in through the window. Your hands wandered Ethan's exposed body in calm and known movements, while Ethan's hands squeezed handfuls of your thigh, leading to your ass. Lightly, your nails drew small patterns and pictures on Ethan's warm back, his muscles rippling beneath your touch.

"Dolcezza mia, I love you, I love you with my entire being," Ethan mumbled against your lips. You smiled like you'd never smiled before. Without a word, your lips wandered to the corner of his mouth, down to his jawline.

Your own lips peppered kisses that were wet and sloppy, but full of love, followed a vein on his neck. Ethan hummed above you, but his breath caught when, between your teeth, was Ethan's earlobe. You chuckled lowly, grazing your teeth gently across it. Ethan captured your lips again, the passion raw yet still demure. You broke the kiss to remove Ethan's t-shirt, that you were wearing.

"I love you even more," you responded.

With the revelation of the words leaving your lips, Ethan's ferocity was renewed. His lips pressed into yours with gracious meaning, leaving your heartbeat to multiply as he grinded himself into your heat that was clothed in just a pair of thin underwear. Ethan's tongue slipped by your lips, then perused your mouth. He tasted of peach juice and mint, which went extremely nicely.

Just as you were enjoying the taste of Ethan's tongue, his mouth left yours, opting to kiss and nip at other parts of your skin. In a hot and wet trail, Ethan's mouth began to trail down your body. His eyes looked to you for consent, to which you adamantly nodded, your breathing already heavy and hot.

In a steady yet serene movement, Ethan broke the hold your legs had on him to pull your underwear off of your form. For a second, before returning, your boyfriend took a moment just to admire you in your natural, beauteous state. His smile returned with his body on yours.

His face was level with your dripping, wet heat, as Ethan looked up at you with dark eyes, clouded with lust and extremely dilated pupils. You bit the corner of your lip just as he licked up your slit, catching your juices on his tongue, then enjoying your taste. You'd both been drinking peach juice earlier.

Then, without warning, the sweetness turned to pure sex. You let out a gasp as his tongue entered your folds, your hands tangling in the roots of Ethan's long hair. Still with his tongue circling inside of you, Ethan moaned at the sensation of you pulling against his hair, which sent vibrations through your core that seemed to reach even your fingertips.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Ethan," you groaned as his thumb found your clit. Ethan circled the sensitive bundle of nerves with the pad of his finger, until his tongue and fingers switched roles.

It became his tongue that circled your clit, and Ethan's long, rough finger that entered your tight hole. You let out a pleasurable moan, which was only encouragement for the man between your thighs.

"You're absolutely fucking amazing." Who the fuck knew if your words were even intelligible? How could they be when the most gorgeous human being on the planet was taking you with his mouth, right on your couch, in the middle of the night?

That familiar pressure in your stomach began to form. It was a nucleus of sensation, your orgasm just ready to burst. Ethan noticed your breathing become more ragged, only to add another finger but keep the same pace. You began to shake, ready for what was to come, as your body began to coat in sweat. Against your clit, Ethan could be felt smiling, just before he delivered the final blow.

His lips completely captured your clit, sucking on it gently.

Orgasm hit you like the train at the end of Anna Karenina. Your legs shook around Ethan's head, your walls pulsing around his fingers, and total bliss overtaking every single one of your senses. Ethan only chuckled, lapping up the juices you produced for him. That only increased your pleasure tenfold.

"You're so gorgeous when you're getting fucked," Ethan commented after kissing your clit. You smiled, looking at him with slightly blurred vision. He laughed before picking you up in a bridal style, letting you rest against him.

Ethan brought you to the bedroom, where he then brought you a clean pair of underwear and a washcloth. You then asked, "What about you?"

"Oh, Amorino, you don't even have to touch me to make me come," Ethan laughed as he cleaned you off. You cast your eyes to his boxers, where an incredibly wet patch was visible. You felt a bit bad, but nothing could bring you off of this high. Ethan cast the washcloth away, to be dealt with when the sun rose, before changing his boxers out for clean ones.

As you both got back into the bed, Ethan pulled you close to his chest, where his lips connected with your forehead. "I really do love you," you whispered.

"And I love you."

Sleep came in a swift wind, making your senses shut down each by each. Last to go was the sound of Ethan's heart, beating in a deep rhythm, and his breathing that tickled your hair ever so slightly.

[bucky-at-bedtime]

Stucky Fic Recs

So basically I went through all of my ao3 bookmarks and collated a list of some of my favourites (I couldn't fit all of them on this list, so if anyone shows interest there might be a part two).

Please read tags and descriptions of the works before reading, some of them are pretty dark or extremely horny so just make sure you check that the fic is for you!!

Please please please send me your favourite fics in return! I am always happy to hear fic recs, headcanons and any other ideas/comments you all have!

Without any further ado, here are a few of my favourite Stucky fics:

‘Not Easily Conquered’ series by dropdeaddream, WhatAreFear

Rating: M, Words: 117,692

https://archiveofourown.org/series/115516

“I told you, you heard me: I told you never to follow me into Hell. Now I’m not vain enough to think that’s why you’re out here now — if there’s any person in what’s left of this God forsaken planet who’s part of a bigger picture, it’d be you. But I’ll keep saying it until it sticks. You got nothing to prove. I’m not worth much, I damn well know that, but I’ll ask you anyway: Stay for me. If you leave me alone in this world I’ll turn into something terrible. I’ll turn into the nasty creature that’s growing inside me. This war, it’ll swallow me whole”

[To me, this fic is like the classic Stucky 101 fanfic – if you're a Stucky fan and you haven't read this, I highly recommend it. The authors explore the Steve/Bucky relationship in such an interesting, tragic, emotive way and I cry every time I read it. I couldn't praise this work enough.]

‘Ain’t No Grave’ series by spitandvinegar

Rating: M-E, Words: 131,789

https://archiveofourown.org/series/426577

"Yeah, he never calls me by my name," Steve says. "It's always champ, ace, hotshot, that kinda thing."

"Man, that is flirting," Sam says. "That nicknames thing, he is flirting with you. He's just working his way up to calling you baby or something."

Steve goes redder than a damn coke can. Sam pumps his fist. "Yes, I am so right, I am wise as hell. He did, didn't he?"

"He called me sweetheart," Steve says grimly, "because he's a drug addict with brain damage."

"Or because he looooooves you," Sam says. Captain America throws a cookie at his head. Sam eats it, because he deserves a treat for being so damn wise.”

[I'm currently re-reading this fic and absolutely loving it. The way spitandvinegar writes Bucky's road towards recovery and Steve's entire characterisation – it's all just so good. It's another one that covers some pretty dark themes, so make sure you're checkin those tags!]

'Einherjar' by thecommodore_squid

Rating: M, Words: 71297

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7157024/chapters/16249814

But Steve was fine.

Sure, he hadn’t seen Bucky in months, and sometimes he was at the punching bag so long that his skin started to peel off to expose the bones of his fingers, and sometimes he couldn’t find the energy to drag himself out of bed, and sometimes he went weeks without sleeping, and sometimes he thought about throwing himself head-first off the nearest tall structure, but he was fine.

He was absolutely, perfectly, one-hundred percent, fucking fine.

AKA In which Steve learns how to deal with his shit, and Bucky learns how to stop leaving.

[basically the definition of a recovery fic, I absolutely adore it. This is tragic and amazing and makes me cry and smile. It’s got a bunch of fantastic cameos and It really just ticks so many of my boxes.]

‘Like real People do’ by 2bestfriends

Rating: E, Words: 67,775

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19887376/chapters/47103217

“"Ask me what?" demands Bucky. "I didn't hear a question."

Steve licks his lips. "Will you stay with me? Will you come back home, Buck?"

"Home," repeats Bucky in a small voice, and then he's crying for real.”

[Basically soft lumberjack!steve and lonely twink!bucky being horny and in love. This is a comfort fic for that’s really just about my favourite boys falling in love.]

‘This City Bleeds it’s Aching Heart’ by anonymous

Rating: E, Words: 34,537

https://archiveofourown.org/works/835829/chapters/1591736

“The one where Steve and Bucky pose as a happily married couple while on a mission for SHIELD, to catch an international arms dealer hiding in a suburban neighbourhood.”

[The plot in this one is just a good time and i think it’s just a really fun take on the fake relationship trope. Also some really great characterisation.]

‘Home is Wherever I’m With You’ by cydonic

Rating: E, Words: 88,570

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18868081/chapters/44783077

“Bucky kisses Steve and Emma goodbye before they leave for school, which is why – partway down the road – Amelia turns to him and asks, “why are you and Daddy kissing?”

Which is definitely a conversation Bucky’s been expecting since Steve just did it, but it still takes him by surprise. Again, he thinks he should wait for Steve, but Amelia’s not the sort of kid to let anything rest. Plus, Bucky’s taking her to school where she will undoubtedly share the story with anyone who’ll listen.

He also stops to think that Steve’s asked him to stay, which means Bucky must be trusted with their happiness and well-being, at least in some small capacity.

Bucky clears his throat and searches for some explanation that will help Amelia make sense of this sudden turn of events. “Because we love each other,” is all he comes up with.”

[Bear with me, this is a House Flipper!Bucky Au. And dad!Steve. I just love a found family trope I’m not gonna lie to you. Another comfort fic that warms my lil heart.]

‘Lucky Seven’ by BetteNoire (WeAreWolves)

Rating: E, Words: 94,364

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7033105/chapters/16002481

“Back from where--?” James says, the sentence ending in a distinctly undignified squawk as Steve sweeps him up in his arms, bridal-style, and starts carrying him upstairs.

James tenses momentarily then relaxes into Steve's arms and throws back his head and starts laughing. The laughter peals out of him, his body shaking, his amusement occasionally broken by little gasps of pain.

“What's so funny?” Steve frowns.

“You are,” James says, still giggling. “You're ridiculous, Steve Rogers.”

“Behave. Or I will drop you,” Steve growls.

[The shrunkyclunks modern AU of my dreams featuring Mechanic!Bucky and cap!Steve and some really beautiful writing.]

'Dishonor On Your Cow' by mandarou

Rating: E, Words: 111695

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10659162/chapters/23589582

“Sergeant Barnes?”

“Oh, hell no, don’t call him that, man,” Sam warned.

“Captain Fuck Off!” Barnes shouted over him. “Fight me!”

Steve didn’t know whether to laugh or just slink away. He managed to combine the two by pacing two steps and snorting instead. Like a bull.

“I’m gonna need you to calm your ass, Barnes,” Sam said as he went limp again, obstructing Barnes’s struggling under him. “This is so undignified. That is Captain goddamn America.”

“Captain goddamn America!” Barnes repeated, louder. And angrier.

Steve cleared his throat again. “I’ve been looking for you,” he told Barnes.

“I hope you brought lube this time!” Barnes shouted.

[I’m not gonna lie it took me a minute to get into this one but by the end I was crying with them, laughing with them, and just really in my feels. Some very insane things happen so here’s a few of my favourite tags: ‘Seargent Barnes is done with your Shit Steve’, ‘blatant disrespect of a man’s motorcycle’, ‘Steve you ding dong’ and ‘PR nightmares in the form of Supersoldiers’.]

Propietary Information by Notlucy

Rating: E, Words: 85141

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11964402/chapters/27054777

“Okay, so Bucky Barnes has a crush on Steve Rogers. The guy's gorgeous, talented and, oh yeah, the Chief Design Officer of the biggest tech company in the world. In other words: he's so far out of Bucky's league that he might as well be in a different stratosphere.”

[We were never gonna get through this list without a Sugar Daddy!AU (I have a weakness). This one is… saucy and sexy and sweet and uh pretty kinky so read the tags and all. I’ve read it a few times, and I love the way the author has written Steve in this one, he just makes my heart go '!!!']

‘Roots Have Grown’ by AustinB

Rating: M, Words: 17280

https://archiveofourown.org/works/6912451/chapters/15767941

“Bucky is a mildly agoraphobic veteran with funds to spare, who becomes enamored with the cute blonde guy in his building.

So when Steve mentions needing a roommate to cut down on rent costs, Bucky decides it would be a good idea to volunteer.”

[Another weakness of mine is Roommate AUs, and this one is phenomenal. I tend to go for post serum!Steve stories more often, but this is a pre-serum Steve that I just adore.]

‘The Cold Never Bothered me Anyway’ by icoulddothisallday

Rating: E, Words:75562

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11728869/chapters/26425530

“Bucky Barnes has spent his whole life in a state of mild hypothermia. Steve Rogers has spent the last 70 years in the ice. The two things aren’t related until, suddenly, they are. Shrunkyclunks soulmate AU (AKA the awkward bb au).”

[I think this is the only soulmate AU in my bookmarks? I would totally be down to read more though! This one is really fun and really enjoy Bucky’s characterisation here!]

'War, Children' by Nonymos

Rating: E, Words: 106615

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5373050/chapters/12409394

“After Bucky was released from the hospital, it only took him a couple of weeks to give up on himself. Difficult to believe in any kind of future when the simple act of staying alive was almost too big an effort.

Out the frosted window, across the street, there was a tiny homeless guy burrowing under an awning.”

[An interesting exploration of Bucky’s PTSD with a trans!Steve which was a cool take on his character too!]

'The Company You Keep' by orbingarrow

Rating: G, Words: 51191

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3468605/chapters/7613072

“Hurt, hungry, and on the run, the Winter Soldier doesn’t have a lot of safe options to go to for help. Figuring that any friend of Captain Steve Rogers is unlikely to be HYDRA, Bucky takes a chance and reaches out to the first Avenger he can find.

It works out better than anyone could have expected. Eventually.”

[hurt/comfort, recovering Bucky, protective Steve, found family and domestic avengers, need I say more? I absolutely loved this one]

[seiyasabi]

きつね (Fox)

(I wanted to try something different and write a few Romaji (ローマ字) words in Hiragana (ひらがな)! I promise it won’t be throughout the fic, but I thought it would be fun for those learning Japanese to practice :)) 

Here’s a !DARK! Kitsune (きつね) Kakyoin (かきょいん) x Female Reader story! Please proceed with extreme caution! 

TW: !NONCON!, !Foul Dirty talk!, !breeding kink!, !knotting!, !Size kink!, use of pepper spray!, you’re in the forest!,!no prep!, !gagging!,  !predator/prey elements!, violence!, mentions of blood and small wounds!, !mentions of drug use and alcohol! (Not you or in detail),  etc.. 

I’m sorry if this is too OOC!) 

“Go to the forest, they said, it’ll be fun, they said,” You grumble to yourself, nearly tripping over a stray tree root. All you want to do is get out of this damn forest and pass out in your dormitory bed, but it seems like Mother Nature has another plan for you. 

Currently, you’re regretting going into the creepy woods near your college. You’d only gotten to this college a few months prior, having transferred from your college in (prefecture/country) to one in rural Japan, and you thought this would be a fun experience. Your new friends claimed that the parties at a certain campground were wild and entertaining, but so far, you’d only seen a few drunken fights, you watched a girl snort a line off of another girls’ chest, and were almost shoved into the bonfire. After all of this, and the fact that your friends left you alone, you decided it was time to head home. 

But, as it turns out, you walked in the opposite direction of the parking lot, getting yourself absolutely lost in the hauntingly beautiful forest. Cursing yourself for your stupidity, you tried to bring up google maps, only to be stopped by that godforsaken icon of ‘no service.’ 

So, you opted for your phone’s flashlight, trying in vain to figure out where was North and where was South. 

“Fucking hell, I know I didn’t walk too far from the campsite, how did I get so lost?” Stumbling once again, you almost fall flat on your face, only to be stopped by a pale hand. The slender, long fingered hand grips the fat of your forearm in a firm grasp, holding you up. Seeing this, a horrified scream leaves your lips before you can stop it, thinking that the thing in front of you was an Onryō. 

Looking up, you’re suddenly face to face with a large, breathtaking man in a red and white kimono. His long, red hair is twisted into an intricate updo, highlighting his sharp jawline. That, in turn, shows off his dangling earrings, which just barely brush his cheek. His purple eyes twinkle in your phone’s flashlight, a small smirk quirking his full lips. 

“Hello there,” The redhead's voice is smooth, sounding like whipped butter personified, “Are you lost?” 

Knowing better than to expose your vulnerability, you shake your head no, “O-oh, no, sir. I’m just heading back to the party. I’m sorry if I bothered you,” You try to wrench your arm from his grip, but he seemingly grabs on harder. 

“There’s no need to lie, I heard your grumblings a few moments ago. I’ve also watched your sorry attempts of hiking through the foliage, and I’d be happy to help,” You eye him suspiciously, not trusting him for a second. 

“No thank you. I’m not so sure I trust a weird man alone in the forest. I hope you understand,” He laughs at your words, sounding like wind chimes. You shift your feet in discomfort, wondering what is so funny about your cautious words. 

“Don’t be silly. There’s a temple near here that I upkeep, and I was walking to the parking lot to head to a 7/11 near here. I’m heading in the same direction as you, so-“ He continues to speak, but you don’t hear a word. You never mentioned the parking lot, and if he was heading there, you’re pretty sure he would’ve just used a path that you carelessly disregarded. Noticing your sudden change of discomfort to extreme fear, he tries to comfort you, “Why that look? I promise I won’t hurt you. Here, why don’t you come to the temple and-“ 

You don’t give him time to manipulate you, suddenly whipping out your gel pepper spray. Chucking the cap in a random direction, you check that the nozzle is facing him, before spraying at full blast. A loud bark-like scream echoes through the air, as you’re suddenly released by his iron grip. Shoving him over, you start to sprint in the direction you just came from.  

“Come back here!” The red haired man yells, a deep growl reverberating through his chest. That urges you to run faster. Flashlight aimed at the ground, you leap and hop over foliage and debris, trying your hardest to evade the freak of a man currently after you. You can hear his footsteps behind you, the forest suddenly silent. 

Your body runs cold at the realisation; just what is this man, and why are the critters so afraid of him? 

Not deciding to find out, you then run in a zigzag fashion, trying to get him off of your tail. The crunch of sticks and leaves are constant, the loudest ones being the hulking man behind you. 

“You can’t outrun me, Pretty Girl!” 

Your chase goes on for a while longer, until you see the unmistakable light of a fire. This causes you to go faster, the idea of safety appealing. 

But, unfortunately for you, you didn’t notice the undeniable silence ahead of you. When you left, the music was practically earth shattering, along with the chatter of inebriated college kids and the loud noise of their cars and motorcycles. 

When you reach the fire, you’re greeted with the sight of a dark wooden structure. It’s a temple, but it looks a lot bigger than a normal Shintō one. In fact, it looks straight out of the fantasy anime your roommate made you watch with her. 

Taking your chances with the forest, you turn to run back into the dark green foliage, only to be tackled back first onto the stick covered dirt below. The twigs stab into your uncovered covered skin, drawing blood, as the kimono clad man above you pants in both pain and anger. 

He brings his face close to yours, making you turn yours away from his with a whimper. His warm breath fans across your uncovered neck, his purple eyes practically glowing down at you. The white around his irises are bright red and teary, showing the effect your weapon has against him. In the lightly you notice two flattened ears on the top of his head, making you gasp in surprise and confusion. Was this a guardian of the Forest? Or was this a demon here to steal your soul? 

“Why must you hurt me? I haven’t done anything to you,” He sounds somewhat hurt that you maced him, but who could blame you? If some creep approaches you in the forest, you fight first, ask questions later. 

“Why are you coming after me? There’s no reason for you to chase after me,” One of his rough hands grips your chin, forcing you to look up at him. His mouth is parted slightly, his sharp teeth glinting in the fire light as his face twists into a smirk. 

“It’s always fun chasing after prey,” He leans in closer, lips just barely touching yours, “Especially when the prey is as adorable as you. Now, we can do this the hard way, or the easy way; if you let me have you, we can go at your pace. If you don’t, I’ll take you however I want.” 

To say you’re shocked is an understatement, “Wha-what do you mean, ‘take me’? Didn’t you just say that you’re going to eat me?” 

“Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. I’m still quite full from the meal I had earlier. I should thank those villagers; without them, I wouldn’t have been able to eat those delicious friends of yours,” All blood leaves your face, did he just say that he ate-

Looking at his kimono, you realise that the red isn’t a pattern at all; it’s blood splatter! 

“Oh my god,” You place a shaking hand on his chest, trying to push him away, “What the fuck? Holy shit- is that why the forest is so quiet? They know it’s your feeding time? Holy fuck-“ He silences you with a heated kiss, practically forcing his tongue down your throat. Lithe hands grope at your cropped tank top covered breasts, trying to squeeze the fat underneath, only to be blocked by your push up bra. Shoving with your entire weight, you’re still unable to force him off of you. Without thinking, you bite down on his tongue, drawing out another bark of pain from the ginger. 

That gives you enough time to breathe and regain your composure. Trying to wiggle out from underneath the muscular male, you’re quickly lifted and flipped onto your front, face pressed against the dirty ground. 

“My mother always told me that females are hard to get, but I never knew it would be this painful,” He spits a mouthful of blood out onto the ground near your head, making you cringe away from that spot, scraping your chest against a particularly sharp twig. A small yelp escapes your throat at the pain, trying in vain to use your arms as a barrier against the sticks and stones below you, “Awe, did my pretty girl hurt herself? That’s okay, I’ll still think that you’re pretty.” 

“Get off of me! What are you trying to do? If you’re going to eat me, get over with it already!” Finally being able to push yourself up onto your forearms, you try to buck him off of you, only to hear a high pitched whine echo out from behind you. Freezing in surprise, you peek at him from, only to be met with a ruby red face. 

“Did you know that foxes go through a mating season?” 

“What the hell does that have to do with any-?” You’re suddenly shoved back onto the floor, tits practically spilling out of your top. 

“I’m going to breed your empty womb, and there’s nothing you can do about it. You’re going to bear me many cute pups, and you’re going to stay here with me until the end of your days.” 

“Go find some female kitsune! I don’t want to have your babies!” Your stomach scrapes painfully against stones below you, dripping more blood onto the dirt. 

“But that’s the thing- you don’t get a choice, Pretty Pretty. You clearly can’t care for yourself! You got lost in the woods, for Gods’ sake! Now, obey your mate, and let me in,” He looks down at your cute mini-skirt, and flips it over your ass, exposing your emerald green thong. His cool fingers ghost over your unblemished ass cheeks, a hitched breath echoing through the Kitsune’s chest, “Oh, pretty girl, did you wear this for me? How did you know my favourite colour?” 

“Get off of me! I didn’t do any-“ He suddenly rips your panties from your cute cunt, before shoving them into your open mouth. You try to spit it out, but are unable to. Tears gather in your eyes, as you start to cry. This strange man is about to do the worst thing a person can do, and he doesn’t seem to care about your feelings. 

“Don’t cry, I’ll take care of you and our pups,” He spreads your legs open, giving him easier access to your soft pussy, “Ah, there’s your pretty cunt. Everything about you is so pretty, aren’t you lucky? If it weren’t for that and your perfect fertile womb, I would’ve eaten you.” 

He kneels on your shins, shoving down your front, arching your ass up into the air. 

“You smell amazing. It’s like your body is just calling for my thick seed. Don’t worry, Pretty Girl,

I’ll give it to you.” 

You hear his kimono shift, most likely pulling out his cock. This makes you choke on your sobs, as you try to pretend that this moment isn’t happening. That some monster of the forest isn’t about to breed you full of his-

A scream escapes your throat the moment you feel his wet cock head against your unprepared pussy. You thought he’d at least prepare your cunt, but it seems that he’s trying to go in dry. He grunts when he feels you starting to thrash, using the hand that once held his cock to smack your ass harshly. 

“Stop it. You can’t change my mind! Jotaro will be so jealous when he finds out I got the most beautiful, fertile, and resourceful mate. Now, hold still,” You don’t understand what he’s talking about, but you can’t help but feel shame. You know his friend’s name, but not his own! The least your rapist could do is tell you his name! As if sending this, he rubs one of your ass cheeks reassuringly, “I suppose you’d like to know your mate’s name, huh? I’m Noriaki Kakyoin. There’s no need for you to say your name, I heard you introduce yourself to those… disgusting humans earlier. But don’t worry, you won’t have to deal with them ever again.” 

He releases your ass in favour of gripping his cock once more, pushing its tip into you with some trouble. You scream through your makeshift gag, the pain of him pushing in feeling like he’s tearing your pussy apart. 

“Awe, are you a virgin? My mom always said a female’s first time is painful,” You want to shove a stick up his ass unlubed! Let’s see how he likes getting something forced inside of him without preparation! “But don’t worry, you should feel good once I’m fully inside.” 

With that, he forces himself in until he’s fully seated inside of you. Another scream escapes your throat, as you feel a small rivulet of blood dribble from your now torn cunt. By this point, you’re hyperventilating in pain, anxiety, and fear. This man is so thick, that you’re pretty sure your pussy will never go back to its original size ever again. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight. I knew you were the right one for me,” When he starts to move, that’s when one of your hands claws at one of his that’s resting on your hip. You feel his skin break under your nails, as you try in vain to make him stop. It feels like he’s splitting you in two! “Does my pretty girl feel good?” You shake your head rapidly, drowning in your pained sobs, “Don’t lie, I feel you getting wet.” 

Can’t he smell that that’s blood? 

You hiccup and wheeze, tears and snot dripping down your pretty face into the dirt. When he starts to buck his hips, you feel like you’re going to throw up. His cock is so heavy inside you, that you feel like he’s rearranging your guts. 

“I feel the opening of your womb on my tip, it’s almost like you’re trying to suck my cock into it!” Kakyoin starts to move his hips faster, making your body go limp. It’s almost like your body is going into shock at the severe pain you’re in, “You sure want my pups, even if you claim you don’t. I’m so close to filling you with my seed, so you won’t have to wait any longer to be filled!” 

He bucks into you at top speed, his own hips crashing into yours harshly. His heavy sack smacks against your ignored clit, sending small jolts of pleasure through your body. But, it’s not enough to make this easier for you. Your pussy is barely producing any slick, making this a lot harder for you to handle. The next time this happens, you know there’s going to be a next time, you should probably explain to him how to prepare you for his horse cock. 

“Shit, shit, I’m gonna fill you up, Pretty Girl. I’m going to make you heavy with five pups, hell, maybe even fifteen! Then once you have them, I’ll fill you up with even more! Doesn’t that sound nice? Your womb will never be lonely again!” 

He thrusts into you with three more powerful thrusts, before slamming his entire length inside of you at once. The head of his cock is right up against your womb, so when his entire length starts to swell, you can practically feel it prying at your cervix. More fat tears rain down your face in this rivulets, your fingers digging into the dirt, cutting up your nimble hands. Kakyoin grunts and growls in a deep voice, savouring the way your walls throw around him in pain. 

Whilst his cock is fully swollen, he releases all the cum he has into you. The large amount of seed isn’t all able to force its way into your cervix, causing it to pool in the canal of your cunt, bloating your stomach out slightly. 

“I can practically smell my seed taking. Your perfect body is accepting me very well, Pretty Pretty. I told you that we’re mates, and this just proves it,” he strokes your head softly, trying to console you as you continue to cry. At this point, he starts to become concerned, why haven’t you stopped crying? “What’s wrong? Didn’t you cum?” 

When you don’t shake or nod your head, he releases one of your hips, in favour of yanking your panties out of your mouth, allowing you to breathe with ease and finally speak. 

“You’re such a Monster,” You sob, face pressed against the cool packed dirt below you, “I-I can’t believe you-if you were going to rape me why didn’t you prepare me?” He makes a small whimpering noise, not quite understanding your gripe. 

“What do you mean?” You start to cry even harder, almost making yourself sick. 

“My pussy is torn open! I’m bleeding! The only one who felt nice is you!” You start to gag, unable to catch your breath properly without somewhat choking on your spit and snot, “Now I’m pregnant with your rape babies, and-and it hurts so bad! Get out of me!” 

You try to yank yourself off of his inflated cock, but he quickly stops you, trying not to hurt you even more. Looking down, he sees a large pool of blood below the place the both of you are connected. He gasps in shock. Sure, he knew that some girls bleed their first time, but this doesn’t look right! 

“What-why are you bleeding so much?” 

“Because you tore me open! I hate you! I hate you! I wish you just killed me!” 

Whilst he’s still stuck inside you, you continue to cry, which makes him feel even worse. He can’t believe that he hurt you so severely. This was never his intention, after all, both parties are supposed to feel good, are they not? 

But now, he’ll never be able to make you love him. 

How could you love someone as monstrous as him? 

[scriptflorist]

What are some plants that will grow and flourish in my character's garden in Vancouver when planted in spring but would die quickly in winters? Why do I constantly find conflicting care info and I also how far outside parameters it takes for a flower to die rather than just in poor condition?

Sounds like you’re looking for plants your character can grow outside, for which a rule of thumb is that flowering plants don’t like the cold. I’d say none of them but that wouldn’t be fair to Christmas roses which do require a certain amount of cold to grow properly, this however still required proper rooting prior to the cold as well as specific parameters of cold. Usually I’d say use humans as an example, if it’s too cold for people to be outside without a jacket in winter it’s too cold for plants as well. However Canada is pretty cold, colder than Germany and I have no idea when Canadian’s start wearing jackets in winter, so to avoid misunderstandings let’s try to say this in clearer terms.

Below zero °C is too cold for 90% of plants. A good chunk of trees and shrubbery can usually withstand it, and conifers tend to keep her green exterior almost regardless of temperatures, but most other hardy plants are usually reduced to exposed bark, which protects from the cold and anything beneath the grown (protected by the surrounding soil) – anything soft and green and flowery is prone to die.

Tufted pansies are an odd exception which are pretty good at handling the occasional cold night during late winter/early spring and somehow don’t droop immediately. Christmas roses could too, however prolonged exposure to extreme freezing temperatures are guaranteed to kill any plant over long or short. So the good news is pretty much anything that isn’t hardy won’t make it into the next year, and what your character specifically is looking for might be annual plants which don’t live longer than a year to begin with.

Not that hardy plants can’t die in winter, but chances are if they were planted in spring they had a chance to take root properly and your character managed to bring them through several months before that without any bigger issues, so the culprit in this case really would only be the cult. That all being said, your character can plant almost anything they have the space and ability to care for them. The key points for care are generally pot size (think shoes, if the roots are sticking out the pot is too small), sunlight (how much is needed, full, half or as little as possible?), temperature (for most plants that starts at around 10-12°C with a tendency towards room temperature of around 20°C, if this cannot be given naturally then a greenhouse is fine, although this would defeat the purpose of having the plants die in winter).

Your character could also plant bulbs, like tulips and hyacinths, although these are exclusive to spring and don’t come back after that until next spring.

Alright so what does that mean for Vancouver?

Vancouver is pretty far south for Canada (right near the border) and it's also right on the Pacific coast. So it's very wet, and not as cold as the interior of Canada gets. Vancouver is listed as hardiness zone 8b mostly, so most plants would probably do decent there until a freeze if they were not winterized (dormant, covered, brought inside, etc) but maybe some zone 9a plants would be hit or miss. There's some pockets of zone 9a around Vancouver, so it could be one of those "why are their azaleas flourishing and mine keep dying?" sorts of things.

– Mod Jana

Disclaimer

This blog is intended as writing advice only. This blog and its mods are not responsible for accidents, injuries or other consequences of using this advice for real world situations or in any way that said advice was not intended.

[blacksunscorpio]

Hello! I saw your post about elevated planets, is there also any explanation about the planets opposite/bottom of the Zenith/Mc? Thank you!

Good Question

Nadir In Astrology

The Nadir, or Imum Coeli (IC), Latin for “south/bottom of the sky,” or “lowest point” is one of the four major angles in an astrological birth chart [the other 3 are the [Rising, Descendant, and Midheaven] and definitely the least talked about. The Midheaven and Nadir points lie at opposite ends of your Natal Chart. The Midheaven is at the very top [where your most elevated will be nearest]. It is where the Sun was at its highest peak during midday. Using this, we calculate the Nadir, or where the Sun was at its very lowest point during midnight. Like the Ascendant and Descendent Axis, the Midheaven and Nadir are opposites, with one side exposed and other other deeply hidden. It lies opposite the Midheaven—a point on our chart that represents our public life and persona, which gets a lot of attention.

What it Means

Since the Midheaven is our brightest, most open, well-light part of your personality, adversely the Nadir is the dead of night in your chart [quite literally], the IC is the deepest, darkest, quietest, most personal place in your chart. It  houses the Private Persona. This is how your mind operates in secret, how you feel, and how you act, when you are completely alone, with no one else watching. Our Nadir (IC) signifies our most profound depths and needs, a part of us that we often don’t share with others. While the rising and descendant axis of our charts navigate the relationship between self and others. The Midheaven and Nadir showcase the polarity of our outer and inner worlds. The IC sits on the cusp of the fourth house, ruled by the moon/cancer associated with family lineage, home environment, and family influences. Similarly to the moon, our nadir shows us our needs and emotional tendencies, though it's much more than that. When you looking at your birth chart, the nadir is below the horizon line of the ascendant and is the lowest place in our chart, therefore representing our foundation and roots. In this way, the IC also reveals the type of environment best for our physical well-being. Make sense? Now, I want to mention that many often think of the MC as a fake, constructed persona, and the Nadir is as our real, authentic selves. This couldn't be further from the truth. Fake news. This way of thinking hinges on the idea that we are fundamentally one type of person, forced act unlike ourselves in different situations. But the truth is, all of your choices and actions come together to create a portrait of who you really are, regardless of what made you act that way. The way you act when you are in front of people, trying to make your best impression - that is the real you. And the way you act when you are alone, with nobody to judge you - that is the real you, too ;). Humans are dichotomous and complex and astrology allows for that because it, as a study, is complex as well.

Nadir By Sign

Aries: [Libra MC] Need for independence and freedom. Reputation is built on the finer aspects of your personality. People know you by your good looks, first and foremost. They see you as elegant, yet strong; rational and logical. Inwardly, can be prone to dramatic displays of anger, loud demands, bossy, and sharp, biting humor and immense stores of sexual drive or drive in general. Family was very active or extremely ambitious. Learned early on how to be independent. Growing up, might have witnessed a lot of conflict in your family, some of it serious and some of it not. You saw problems with alcoholism, drug addiction, and anger. Unconsciously aggressive or combative.

Taurus: [Scorpio MC] Need for security or physical pleasures. Come off as intense, passionate, mysterious or dark. Family was stable or materialistic. As a child you were always well fed and secure. Parents/guardians gave you a taste for the finer things in life by caring so much about the look and quality of the things in their home. On a darker note they could also be quite controlling in a lot of ways, both over their house and family. Nothing could be done, or touched, or moved, or planned without them having a hand in what was going on. Native can be unconsciously inflexible or possessive.

Gemini: [Sagittarius MC] Need for understanding themselves and world around them. Outwardly can be very philosophical, blunt, straightforward and/or outspoken. When you find yourself alone with your thoughts, you spend a lot of time enjoying your own inner dialogue. And when you are with those few people you are close to, you enjoy a lot of stimulating conversations.  Family is a literal mosaic. Different colors and personalities. Home life was changing constantly. Family was growing and shrinking, moving around, breaking apart and then putting/fitting new pieces together. Childhood was self-expressive or hyper-intellectually focused. Unconsciously erratic, anxious or cunning that can display itself as duplicitousness.

Cancer: [Capricorn MC] Need to seek and give nurturance. Can come off as  determined, hard working, goal-oriented, and very good at what you do. You have a very professional public image that exudes confidence and experience. Family was co-dependent or critical. Growing up your mother was the central figure of your family home, either because she was a single mother or your father was away from home a lot. As a child, you were given more than enough praise and attention. When alone, you take on an almost maternal role in your house, cooking and cleaning and taking care of chores. Often, you will retreat into your bedroom, den or personal workshop and spend a lot of time working on things by solo.  Unconsciously co-dependent or guarded.

Leo: [Aquarius MC] Need for creative self-expression. intelligent, detached connections with other people. Can come off as detached or have this kind “dry intensity” that radiates off of you – you seem to be quietly aloof, cold. When alone, can be quite friendly or show big displays of love to those close to them. An eternal child that will always love fairly tales no matter how old they are. Family was self-involved or warm-hearted. The kid who was told they were special all the time. Everybody in your family (especially your mother) fawned over all the things you did, praising you for every accomplishment and exaggerating all your best qualities. You got everything you wanted. Unconsciously may have a lot of self-doubt.

Virgo: [Pisces MC] Need for efficiency. Comes off as a creative, kind, spiritual, almost ethereal person. People will notice the far-away look, the quiet contentment that hangs around you like a miasma. Draws in both saints and sinners. Though they may present a misty outward appearance, inwardly they keep detailed inventory of everything. Likes work and routine. Family or parent was hyper-critical. Some kind of negativity surrounding you when you were growing up, like fighting, substance abuse, depression, anxiety, or a poor home life. Whether or not you were aware of what your family members were going though, you looked for an escape. May have control freak tendencies.

Libra: [Aries MC] Need for harmony, though possibly difficulty in knowing needs with too much vacillation. Outwardly brave, perhaps a tad bossy, driven, commanding and leader-like with touches of aggression or authoritarianism. inwardly, peace loving, diplomatic, utterly polite, cooperative and friendly to the point of people pleasing. Family could have been quite social or superficial. When you are out interacting with the world you are confrontational and/or competitive. Growing up, you had to share your parent’s attention with other people. You might have had other siblings that got more than you, or they might have had other obligations that took up their time. Unconsciously coy.

Scorpio: [Taurus MC] Need for emotional depth and understanding. Outwardly laid back and grounded. Astonishing work-ethic. Security minded and practical. Inwardly there is a deep well of emotion. Can dwell or obsess. Powerful drive and silently aggressive. Family was secretive or powerful. Unconscious forces outside may have influenced them. Involved in power dynamics. Subconsciously,  memories of the past are littered with alcoholism, abuse, death, trauma, sex, various kinds of manipulation and betrayal.

Sagittarius: [Gemini MC] Need to discover their own truth. Comes off as intelligent, sociable, highly optimistic. Social butterfly. Inwardly may act out personal and grandiose dramas. Family was hyper-ethical or adventurous. Sought to learn and understand other people’s cultures and perspectives. In your childhood, when you were living at home with your family, you were thought of as a very bright child. Energetic, enthusiastic about learning, and always exploring the outside world, you met every new subject with curiosity and an open mind. Teachers and classmates labelled you as the “smart kid”. Unconsciously can seek status, attention or might be prone to judgment.

Capricorn: [Cancer MC] Need for reliability and order. reputation for being determined, hard working, goal-oriented. Family was traditional or repressed emotions. Might feel like you have to “fight for respect.” Family was very restrictive and controlling. Tried to make you into what they wanted you to be rather than accepting you for how you were. When alone in the privacy of your own home, you are emotional, sensitive, and very attached to your belongings and loved ones. Unconsciously self-repressing or pessimistic.

Aquarius: [Leo MC] Need for unconventional and individual stance. Comes off as bubbly, friendly, happy, and attracts attention easily. Inwardly, a loner, detached, intelligent, the furthest thing from a people pleaser. Likes to be left alone to their own devices to study or research. Family was non-traditional or unavailable. Home life might have been chaotic or tumultuous. As a kid you had little control over your life’s direction and had to follow your parents wherever they went. This could mean you were uprooted a lot, maybe a military kid or simply forced into their religion or belief system. Unconsciously somewhat detached from others. Accept anybody for anything, you support them 100%. Not interested in people or affairs/things that do not concern you. Father might have been absent. Unconsciously weird/ unusual.

Pisces: [Virgo MC] Need for wandering or mysticism. Comes off as organized, dissecting, routine-loving and very well-put together. Inwardly, can be emotional, messy, lazy, gullible, but also sensitive, compassionate, empathetic, and completely selfless. Family roots of unclear boundaries. Growing up there was a lot going on between your parents that you didn’t understand. Perhaps born on the verge of some kind of upheaval. Something happened that caused the family break apart before you were born and now they were dealing with the aftermath. Unconsciously over-sensitive or non-committal.

Bruja note:

The key to understanding the patterns and energy of the IC brings balance and equilibrium to our lives as it teaches us how to embrace our past and move forward into our future. How to really grasp and harness the midheaven gifts and promises. There is an inevitable sense of karma and destiny associated with the angles of our charts, and the IC is no exception. Knowing the patterns of the nadir brings consciousness to our underworld. More understanding. It is considered by many astrologers one of, if not THE most important part of our entire chart—because of the depth of understanding it gives us when we really commit to comprehending it. By utilizing the skills and difficulties of our family/ancestors/origins, we are thrusted into our personal journey’s and ultimately our north node or most elevated destinies.  

What sign is your Nadir in? Dissecting and understanding it can bring healing and growth to you and those you’re closely connected with.

[loser-writings]

Kazuichi Souda Headcanons

{@sally-wonders​} (┛◉Д◉)┛彡┻━┻ I JUST SAW THE DANGANRONPA STUFF AND I AM SCREAMING! dlsfhlfhksg I dont even know where to start, so, at first I was wondering if you have any headcanons for my man Kazuichi, I love him so much! I always wondered how he would be into an actually relationship, because the inflatuation he had with Sonia was a thing, but also serving to compensate in his low self steam, even if he was an ultimate, he also has the historic of abuse and bully by their piers and all  with the sharp teeth and pink hair to try and look cool and all that as well, also he would have to deal with all that happened in dispair island (what wouldnt i give to know how they dealt with that man :'3), especially acepting the fact that Sônia does not like him. Because of the whole dream girl with blonde hair and he kinda projects this idea of her instead of herself. Jqrjjgwrj sorry I babble a lot hehe

I hope you enjoy this long list of a variety of headcanons. These may not hit all of the points you were asking, but I hope this is satisfactory!

・・・・✪General Headcanons✪ ・・・・

Kazuichi is a very anxious person so he is constantly fiddling with something. Little electronics, his wrench or tools he has on hands, or his fingers. If he can’t mess with something, his anxiety goes through the roof.

He can read in English! He taught himself how to read English so he could read American comic books before they’re officially translated. He also can understand English since he watched so many English action movies. He can speak it, but it can be broken and his accent is very strong.

He can actually sew. Since he learned by watching his mom, he can fix and alter clothing. He can also sew and throw together blankets and stuffed animals. He actually owns a small sewing machine. It isn’t expensive or amazing by any means, but it can get the job done.

He spends a large chunk of his money on keeping up with his hair and keeping his contacts in check. His hair grows extremely fast so his roots show, and he has a horrible habit of sleeping in his contacts since he can’t stand his glasses. 

When you catch him off guard, he just lies about what he is doing. He doesn’t mean to, but it is just a natural reaction since his dad would get mad at him no matter what his answer was. Because of this, you have to give him a moment to calm down and go through the 3 different answers he has before he can actually say what’s going on. This also happens if he is on his computer or his phone. He naturally hides the screen, even if he is just looking at car parts or how to fix a certain thing.

He can be a bit perverted and oblivious to somebody's flaws if he finds himself becoming attracted to them. Despite this, he is honestly quite the sweetheart and would have a heart attack if somebody were to return his feelings. 

He has pretty bad trust issues and this can cause tension between him and others. This also causes him to believe things that aren’t always true based off of his distrust alone.

He doesn’t actually like his appearance, even after he changed it. He originally changed it to keep away bullies and get the attention of women, but when he looks in the mirror, he doesn’t exactly like it. He didn’t mind his black hair or his normal eye color, he just hated his glasses.

Will flinch if someone raises their hand at him because of his fathers past abuse. He can’t help but flinch, and this is horrible with men who are taller than him. Safe to say that Gundhams mannerisms and weird poses aren't appreciated.

・・・・✪Relationship Headcanons✪ ・・・・

As stated before if someone were to return his feelings, he would be so lost on what to do. He never had anybody treat him with much kindness and the fact that someone he admires likes him back is just mind boggling to him.

I headcanon him personally to be Bisexual. He may have a physical lea for women, but he does find himself genuinely attracted to men as well (@Hajime) I think the big thing that decides if he likes you or not is if he thinks he can trust you.

Due to the past abuse and issues regarding friends and classmates, he would need constant reassurance. He will have sudden doubts and will become extremely anxious at the idea of you leaving him for a variety of reasons. He will ask if you want him to change his appearance or something about his personality, and it never fails that he is shocked if you say you love how he is.

He can sometimes get lost in his childlike fantasies. He will change his personality at times and make himself believe things that aren’t true. The best thing to do when this happens is to just give him a quick kiss on the cheek and remind him that you are you, and not some fantasy. He will apologize and snap out of it (For the most part)

He isn’t the best at initiating things. He would do better with someone who is more willing to make the first move. Be the one to grab his hand to hold it, Open your arms so he can snuggle against your chest, Cup his cheeks to pull him into a sweet kiss, Open the door for him and press your hand against his lower back in public areas so he feels more calm. He really would appreciate it.

Some of his favorite dates are the ones that result in tons of affection. Building blanket forts before having an action movie marathon is his favorite thing. It always results in the two of you tangled impossibly close to each other. If he is the one being held, having you play with the messily chopped locks instantly has him weak. He will rest against your chest while watching the movies, looking up to steal kisses and nip at your exposed skin in an attempt to steal your attention away from the screen. If he is the one holding you, your hair will be played with and expect him to caress your body a lot. If he gets distracted from the movie, he will let his eyes and hands wonder. It’s not in a perverse way, but more curious. 

He actually studies how your body moves and how you feel. He is the kind of guy who is very interested in seeing how your “Parts” move and how things work. It’s not perverted (Usually) but instead it’s very sweet in an unusual way. He will find out unusual things he loves about you by watching how you move. Like how you stretch to reach things on a tall shelf, or how your body curls up into itself when your cold. Just how you move and your body language is something that always has Kazuichi staring. 

If he can’t be with you physically, expect many phone calls and video calls. He calls you every time he misses your voice or feels himself starting to get anxious. The most common phone calls become the ones that happen before bed. Kazuichi gets extremely anxious when he is alone or at his house with his dad. Because of this, it becomes a routine where he calls you before bed and falls asleep on the phone with you. If you love to sing, sing and play instruments on the phone to soothe him. If you like to read, read to him until you hear his soft snores on the other line. If you like to ramble, ramble to him as he hums along til he is asleep. 

Also don’t hang up. Seriously, he will hang up in the morning. If he has a nightmare, or something happens, he finds comfort knowing that you are right there when he needs you most. 

He doesn’t mind chasing after you, but please let him have something so he knows that all of the chasing is worth it. This is the man you go to if you want somebody to control. He just wants your love and attention, even if you are just using him. If he falls for you during the killing game, he won’t hesitate to kill for you.

・・・・✪NSFW Headcanons✪ ・・・・

Aged 18+ and Kink discussion below this post

Souda loves to leave hickeys and love bites. He thinks they’re so sexy and attractive, and will leave them all over you if you let him. He also ADORES having you mark all over him and will whine if you tease him by pulling away before a mark can be made. If you really want to make him feel loved, make heart shaped hickeys all over him. He will cry because he feels so loved.

He is a switch with a more submissive lean, but he does have his more dominant moments. If he is being submissive, expect him to whine and cry about things a lot. He can be a total brat, but its so worth it when you get to hear him moan and beg for more. He may not scream, but he is quite loud.. If he is being dominant, he growls and groans a lot. He doesn’t mean to, he just gets so caught up in the moment that he doesn’t even notice the noises he makes.

He has ended up with you in his lap in his car a few times. He just can’t help it. The most memorable time was at the drive in theater. You both were in the back and it just ended up with your hands being bound by a seat belt as he sat between your legs until he couldn’t handle waiting anymore. 

He CLEARLY is into body worship. He loves watching how you react as his hands sit and press themselves against your body. He will compliment absolutely everything about you, kissing your skin as much as possible, and let his hands and eyes do all of the work.

He is so into oral, both giving and receiving. He can sit between your legs pleasing you until you are shaking and can’t handle anymore. Just how you taste is so intoxicating with him, and he always is trying to get more. If you are sucking him off, he will pant and moan and whine the whole time. His hand is tangled in your hair or the sheets until he can’t take it any more and cums. If you swallow, he will be so turned on, but he also loves cumming on you

Kazuichi will hump and grind against anything. Your ass, your thighs, a pillow, clothing, the bed, anything. He has a high sex drive, so he has to take care of it often. Even when he is sleeping, he will grind against you if he is having a dirty dream. Hopefully you don’t mind, because he is actually quite embarrassed when this happens.

He has a fantasy of you waking him up with oral. He has quite a few dirty dreams, so the idea of you helping him out while he wakes up is a dream for him.

Praise kink. Seriously. Praise this man. He will CRY if you constantly praise him during sex. He was completely unaware of how much it would effect him during sex.

[heyheydidjaknow]

I do not have a decent title for this. I’m also not even going to bother with an image (even though I know it would generate more traffic) because I’m not going to steal someone’s shit. It’s about 3500 words, so have fun with that.

Chapter 1

Dying is not fun.

I do not know if you knew that until last night. Maybe you figured that since it was romanticized so much that it would not suck as much as it so clearly and obviously did. Maybe you dreamed of dying relatively peacefully, surrounded by your loved ones. Alas, those dreams were dashed last night when you, oh so wise Y/N, decided that you were going to try baking and forgot the most essential step; taking the thing out of the oven. You remember that night so clearly, the screams of your family begging for their lives still bouncing around in your ears like a torturous golf ball that made a habit of forcing itself into your throat, the feeling of your hair catching alight as your skin bubbled and charred, and rational thought became a foreign concept. You do not remember if you had died from a heart attack or hyperthermia or smoke inhalation, but you had a general idea that, yes, that night had been your last on Earth.

So, where the fuck are you?

You pull yourself into a sitting position, your back pressed against something hard as your eyes struggle to adjust to the darkness. The air smells like rotten food and exhaust engines as you pull yourself off the concrete, looking around the alleyway that you had found yourself in. It’s small, narrow, unremarkable in every way, with graffiti covered dumpsters near the entrance. Dazed, confused, generally out of sorts, you make your way to the entrance, patting yourself down for injuries you did not seem to have.

You rub the side of your face with your hand. ‘My head is killing me.’ You slip your hand into your jacket pocket, feeling a key and a piece of paper. ‘God damn it is cold in this alley.’ You zip up your jacket, walking out into the open as you pull the note out, beginning to read.

“Dear Y/N,” you mumble as you read, “we are pleased to inform you of your acceptance into our transference program, yadda yadda yadda, whoopdeedoo…” You skim ahead of some introductory jargon before getting near to the point of the note. “From this point forward, enjoy your permanent residence at ten West.. fifteenth street… apartment number six two two… New York, New York?” You blink. ‘I… that’s not my address.’ You pull out the key. ‘Wait, hold on.’ Your eyebrows furrowed. ‘New York? Wait, I was dead, wasn’t I?’ Your eyes become unfocused. ‘I don’t live anywhere near NYC. Where am I?’ You look around for some sort of landmark, street name, anything to give you some idea of where you are.

You hear a car squeal to a stop on the street corner in front of you, snapping you out of your stupor. As identical men start climbing out of the back of the vehicle, all marching deliberately towards you, a fifteen-year-old girl, your immediate reaction is to run like hell. Unfortunately for you, apparently your speed was not comparable to that of the men who quickly apprehend you, scooping you up and dragging you kicking and screaming into a van. You hear vaguely familiar voices outside, but your focus is less on the mayhem and more on the more pressing matter of getting yourself out of the van. You pound at the door, feel for any sort of locks on the inside, something, anything to get you out of the van, still screaming your head off as you hope whoever was outside had the common sense to call nine one one. You feel your eyelids droop as your breathing slows, your voice dying as your pounding becomes less intense. You slide to you knees, eyes closing even as you mentally scream at yourself to get up, keep at it. You passed out.

--

You wake up laid on the floor this time, the pulsing of electricity above your head almost soothing as you open your eyes. You stagger to your feet, looking around your well-lit enclosure, pink florescent lights lining the ceiling and walls like arteries. After taking note of your new bruises and checking to see if you still have your few personal belongings—you do—you ran over to the door, eyes fixated on the mind boggling, ridiculous scene taking place in front of you.

‘Oh, for fuck’s sake.’ You back away from the slot in the door, trying to process the blatant larping headassery. You had not thought that you would honestly be able to say that, apparently, you were kidnapped by the mother fucking Kraang, yet, in some stroke of tomfuckery on behalf of whatever deity controls your universe, you have, obviously, been kidnapped by some seriously hardcore cosplayers. If nothing else, you must admire the obviously advanced set up.

You run your fingers through your hair, chuckling almost manically. “So,” you say to yourself aloud, “I got kidnapped by TMNT fanboys. Great. Fantastic, even!” You pace around the room, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “I guess this makes me April O'Neil, then? Cool.” Your voice is extremely tight as you shake with intense, mostly negative emotions. “So, I’m somewhere in New York, kidnapped by the Kraang in the worst convention ever. Let me guess,” you laugh, losing your mind a little as you speak to nobody. “I’m gonna have a run in with the Teenage Fucking Ninja Turtles next, right?”

As if on que, you hear laser blasts and shinking metal. The high pitched beeping on an alarm sounded as you heard people—‘Male, teenagers… fuck my life,’— talking about power or something as their footsteps approach your room. You pound on the door. “Hey! Over here!”

You see a brown set of eyes look in through the window. Your suspicions are confirmed; ‘Definitely TMNT larping.’

“We found her,” the owner of said eyes, the one cosplaying as Donatello, calls to the others. Lasers shoot by his head as he turns to stare death in the eyes.

“We’ll hold them off. You pick the lock.” ‘Leonardo.’ You breathe a soft sigh of relief; if nothing else, you are apparently on the side of the people trying to get you out in this game. You hear footsteps going towards the firing.

“Don’t worry,” “Donatello” reassures you, voice tight with apparent anxiety, “I’ll have you out of there in a second!”

“Thanks, Donnie.” You give him a half-hearted thumbs up, trying to see what he was doing through the window. “Take your time.”

His eyebrows furrow. “Wait, how do you know my name?”

You sigh. “Look, man, I don’t know the script for the first episode by heart. You’re gonna have to cut me some slack for not being off-book.”

“Off—what?” He stares at you blankly.

You purse your lips. “I’ll explain if you let me out,” you promise. “Just pick the lock before the blue one gives you shit.”

“Oh, right! The lock!” He nods, grasping onto the logical thing you say and leaning down to start working on the alien technology. He pulls the cover off a control panel by your door, starting to fiddle with the wires.

You lean against the door, watching him work curiously. You hear the battle cries of “Michelangelo” and the toppling of robots as he works, clearly focused on his task. You zone out again. “This is some serious shit,” you mumble.

He mutters in frustration. The one dressed as Raph marches over, more impatient. “Oh for the love of—get out of my way,” he snarls, proceeding to take a very real looking sai out and stabbing the panel with a very in-character ferocity. You almost feel the urge to applaud the acting, and you might if this weren’t such a high stakes situation.

The door in front of you and behind you open at the same time and, deciding against getting captured again—you remember something about hanging from a helicopter in that scenario and you want nothing to do with that—you run alongside the turtles like your life depends on it, stumbling to a halt once you reach outside and slamming the doors closed behind you, blocking it with your back.

Your feet scramble to gain some traction on the cement. “Donnie,” you snap, almost impressed by the force used to pound against the doors, “put your staff in the handles of the door. We gotta go ASAP.”

“Wait, hold up.” The one dressed as Raph jabs his thumb towards you. “How do you know his name?”

You groan. “For fucks- it’s Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, not fucking Happy Sugar Life. Get the thing in the thing before the vine thing kills us!”

“The what?” Donnie and Raph seem much more confused than before, staring at you inquisitively and angrily respectively.

“Uh, guys?” Mikey pointed. “I think she means that vine thing.”

From the shadows emerges a towering creature made of plant life, its vinelike limbs draping across the ground like roots as it rears its ugly head. Its exposed, pulsating heart pressed against what remains of the creature’s ribcage. “You did this to me,” It growls. “Now you’re going to pay!”

“It’s-“

You cut Leo off. “Snake guy. Mutated into a weed. If you wanna kill it, go for the heart.”

He looked back at you, joining the other two pairs of piercing stares. “Cut that out.”

“Then don’t monologue and kill it before it has mobility!”

“On it.” Raph charges at its lumbering form, and within moments, it falls to the ground in a heap.

The pounding against the door is getting more intense. “Donnie! Staff!”

“Right!” He runs over, sliding his staff in between the door handles.

You stumble forward, the pounding already starting to crack the wood. “Alright, now we can leave.” Without waiting for the others, you sprint away from the building like your life depends on it. The others, clearly confused, follow.

You got a fair few city blocks away before you slow down, breathing heavy and palms stamped with the outline of the key you were holding desperately onto. “You run really fast for cosplayers,” you pant, “with all the- the paint and all.”

“Yeah, about that.” Donatello stops next to you, a thousand questions apparently swimming around in his head. “How do you know our names?” His mouth moves a mile a minute. “How did you know the weakness of that vine creature? What do you mean, cosplay? Who are you? Who were they?”

You cut him off. “One question at a time, hot stuff. Deep breathes.”

His pupils dilate. “H-hot stuff?”

Leo cuts in. “How did you know what we were—uh—cosplaying?” he asks tentatively.

“Odd time to cut the act, but alright.” Your heart rate lowers to a decent pace as your mind still struggles to comprehend what had just happened. You slow your breathing. “I mean,” you explain, gesturing with your hands, “it’s TMNT. It’s iconic.”

“Iconic?” He nods. “Well, since you know so much about it, then why don’t we test your knowledge? To see if you’re a real fan..”

“Y-you think I’m hot?”

“I don’t see the point, but I’m down.” You shrug, deciding to ignore the melting turtle for a second. “Shoot.”

He thinks for a moment. “Who’s the main character?”

You shrug. “You four, I guess.”

Mikey jumped in. “What’s the theme song?”

“Gonna have to be more specific there, buddy.”

“Is it really a great idea to just talk out here in the open?” Raph crossed his arms across his front.

“Probably not.” You look around. “Unless you have a map on you, I’d suggest we go back to your lair.”

“Our—what kind of stalker—”

“Look, honey,” you sigh, “if we’re going to go over every aspect of their lives that I know about we’re going to be here for a long time. For our purposes, just assume I know everything I need to know, and if you’re curious about specifics, we’ll go on a case-by-case basis.” You start walking down the sidewalk. “I’m guessing you guys hang out in the sewer, right?” You feel almost tempted to say that they’re just flat out psychotic, their blatant conviction in their own characters almost frightening. ‘I’ve heard of kinning,’ you think, pulling up a manhole cover you see at the end of an alley and wincing at the smell, ‘but this is ridiculous.’ You blink at the surprising lack of weight.

“Yeah.” Mikey—no, the Michelangelo cosplayer—walked over, already hopping in. “Our show must be super popular, right? Who’s the favorite character? How long have we been running?”

“Oh, you guys are—” You stop talking. “Wait, what year is it?” You start climbing down.

“Two thousand and twelve. Why?”

You step off the ladder, starting to walk behind him as he lead the way. “Well, it’s not tweny twelve where I’m from. It’s twenty twenty.”

“Wait, hold up.” He turns around to face you as he walks. “You’re from the future? That is so freakin awesome!”

You rub the back of your neck, trying to ignore the smell. “I mean,” you confess, “being from the future would be cooler if I was from a better time, I think.” ‘I wonder where they—’ You shake your head. “But, If we were running on the same time, I’d only be seven, I think, so it’s pretty cool I get to be here, I guess.”

“Dude, totally!” He turns a corner. “Our first day up top and we meet a time traveler?”

“Technically,” a voice from behind you makes you jump, “if what she’s saying is true, she somehow also knows interdimensional travel as well.”

‘Mother fucking ninj—cosplayers, focus. Don’t let them pull you in too.’ “Well, I really wouldn’t say—”

“Guys, is there not a clearly bigger concern on our hands?” You were already getting sick of not hearing footsteps. “Like, say, I don’t know, the fact she’s claiming we’re fictional characters?”

“Look, man,” you roll your eyes, “I already said I’m more than happy to answer any questions I can. In fact,” you continued, stopping in your tracks as you stared the red—clad turtle in the eye, “I’ll even stay put until we sort this whole situation out.”

“Fine by me.” Leo and Raph both face you, eyes boring into your soul as you stand there awkwardly.

“Let’s start off with the basics.” Leo’s tone is awfully light compared to his blatant skepticism. “What is everyone’s name?”

You force yourself not to roll your eyes again. “You’re all Hamatos.” You point at the tall one with the gap in his teeth. “That one’s Donatello, the yellow one next to him is Michelangelo, you,” you point at the red one with the broader shoulders, “are Raphael, and the sensei appointed leader is Leonardo. Easy.”

Leonardo nods. “Okay, you got the easy one.” It is at times like these when you wish you could read people. “What are we?”

“Teenage mutant ninja turtles.” You don’t have to hesitate.

“How did we become the way we are?”

“Splinter had a Kraang run in and you got ooze on you. Last thing you touched before you transformed was a person, so you became turtle/human hybrids.” You rest a hand on your hip. “Oh, happy birthday, by the way.”

A sea of blank faces face you. “Wait, you know who those things are?” Donatello is the first to speak after a pregnant pause.

“Well, yeah.” You shrug, the reality of the situation not yet dawning on you. “They almost take over the world in at least two season finales.

“They what?”

“Yeah.” You stick your hands in your pockets, fingering the key and note, confused by their apparent horror. “I mean, I’m still on the season three finale, but alien invasion is this show’s bread and butter for the most part.”

“I- what?” Raphael appears to be having a stroke. “What- bre- I- huh? What the-“

“Is he okay?” You look, completely unconcerned, at Donatello, who is swaying on his feet.

“Alien.. invasion…”

You blink, walking over to him and placing your hand on his cheek. You were surprised at the feeling of skin under your palm. ‘Not face paint..’ You look his incredibly pale face over curiously. ‘Not a mask…’ “Oh.” Your fingers slide down and off his jaw, falling slackly. “You weren’t joking, were you?”

If nothing else, he seems less concerned than he did a second ago.

Leonardo—‘The actual—hold on a minute.’—grabs your shoulder. “This isn’t a joke.” His face is stone. “You’re being serious, right?”

You felt blood drain out of your face. “Sadly? Yes.” You force yourself to take deep breaths so as to not pass out. “But, on the bright side,” you smiled weakly, “I can guarantee your survival for at least a few months.”

“What do you mean a few months?” Raphael is shaking as he yells, his voice roar echoing in the enclosed space. “How is it only—what the hell?”

“The show only ran over the course of an in-universe year.” You fight to keep your voice steady as dread seizes your throat. “I don’t know what happens after the year is up, or if it even lasts the whole year.”

“So we have less than twelve months to live?”

“This is so not cool.” Michelangelo is having a bit of a mental breakdown. “So, so not cool.”

“Hey, it’s not a guarantee!” You put your hands up reassuringly. “That’s just how long the show runs. Besides, it’s a kid’s show. There’s no way they’d kill off the main characters.”

“The hell they—who the hell is they?”

“Nickelodeon.”

“What the fuck is Nickelodeon?”

You groan. “Look, I’m just saying that you four are definitely going to survive the next few months!” Your voice rises easily to his volume. “I don’t know what happens after those months are up! I haven’t gotten to that point!”

“Why the hell not?”

You ran your fingers through your hair, laughing incredulously. “What, do you think I knew I was going to meet the IRL Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and had a chance to plan accordingly? No!” You throw your hands up in the air. “I died last night and now I’m here! Hell, I don’t even know where the fuck I’m going to go, fuck knowing who’s going to get the fucking axe between now and the series finale!”

“Will you two both cut it out?” Leo snapped, shutting you two up.

You put your hands up, still fuming and glaring at Raphael. He responds in kind.

“What’s your name?” He looked at you.

“Y/N. Y/N L/N.” Your breathing slows slightly.

“Alright. Y/N, you said you’ve seen up to season three, right?”

“Yeah.” You nod.

“Meaning you know what’s going to happen in the next few months, right?”

You nod at the leader.

He thinks for a moment. “Then we need to stay in contact. If what you’re saying is true, your knowledge of our show could be extremely valuable to us.”

You rub your eyes with your hands, sighing, trying to cool down. “I can do that.” You put your hands down. “If nothing else, I’m more than happy to offer up emotional support. The next few months are going to be extremely physically and emotionally difficult for you guys.”

Donnie pipes up. “Do you have a place to stay?”

You pull out the piece of paper. “I have an address and key, but I don’t know my way around NYC.” You smile slightly at the unintentional rhyme. “Do you guys know where ten west fifteenth street—wait, it’s your guys’ first day.” You nod. “I forgot.”

“It’s alright.” Donatello is oddly quick saying that. “I-if you want, I—we can help you find it.”

You rub your arm, your previous indignance replaced with extreme embarrassment at your previous actions. “Nah, it’s alright,” you reassure him. “I’m sure I can find a map or something.”

“It’s really not safe to just wander around New York so late.”

You pause at that. “That is an extremely good point.” You nod. “Alright. But I owe you guys dinner or something for trusting me this far. Also,” you smile teasingly, “what you’re currently eating is legitimately revolting.”

“Amen to that.” Raphael, if nothing else, seems to have calmed down.

Mikey hopped in. “Oh, we just found this crazy awesome food—”

“I can order pizza,” you reassure him.

He punches the air excitedly. “Let’s go!”

“If you want, you can sleep on the couch for tonight,” Leonardo offers. “It’s going to get light pretty soon, and we really shouldn’t be seen.”

You shrug. “Works for me.

As you follow the teenagers down the sewer, conversating as you walk, you take a moment to reflect on all that has happened so far. A part of you, oddly enough, is almost excited by the prospect of spending time with these guys. But a stronger, darker part reminds you sweetly of the dangers you knew lay ahead.

You close your eyes. ‘I’m never going to see my family again, am I?’

How that is the least of your worries, you don’t know.

Table Of Contents

Chapter 2

[yelenasdog]

hurricane (brian may x fem reader)

request by the wonderful @speciallyred w prompts 45 and 58 from this prompt list! i was super nervous to write this bc i love her writing but i hope u enjoy!!

genre: per request of anna, angsty! but it ends w some fluff to mend ur broken heart hehe

summary: he’s never home, and neither is she. he can’t communicate, and she just wants to be loved.

words: 1.5k this was supposed to b a drabble OOPS

warnings: crying, sadness, mentions of marriage+kids, mentions and accusations of cheating, i think that’s it but as always, lmk if i missed any!

a/n: ok so a. y/n wasn’t used so if u wanted this do bri x some other female or oc that would work, and b. i also didn’t use anything that would keep this from being able to be read as a gwil!bri fic :) mwah (also i just realized this but this could totally be a song fic for i want love by elton john ok bye luv u)

 ⭑ 🎸

It was deathly silent in the spacious former home of Brian and his beloved, that had now been reduced to only a house. The ticking of the grandfather clock he had insisted that they had to have when they moved in could be heard ringing out and echoing, pestering the girl to no end.

It was always quiet in their house, even when they fought. There was never a rushed bustle of children you had to get out the door to school, and not even a cat or dog to create a disruptive chaos as they ran about, muddy paws leaving marks on the floor.

There would be the occasional record playing lowly, the notes floating about the house, and sometimes if she couldn’t sleep, she would have Bri play her a soft tune on his old acoustic, his voice having no issue bringing her to rest.

But even now, during one of the most heart wrenching fights that the pair had gone through, it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop on the hardwood flooring.

As Brian was a soft and gentle man, never yelling or raising his voice in the slightest. He wasn’t mean or cruel, in fact, his entire aura calmed her to no end, which is why she supposed she hated this so much.

She scanned with careful eyes over his silhouette, watching as stray curls rustled from the draft coming in from the open window, goosebumps raising on both of their exposed arms.

“What are you looking at?”

“Just you, Bri.”

He rolled his eyes from where he sat on the white sofa, moving his fist under his chin. A scoff fell from his rosy lips as he turned his head to look out the window, not actually paying any mind to the green hills, a light frost covering the entire landscape.

“So are you just going to ignore me?”

“I’m not ignoring you.”

A salty tear rolled down her face, the incoming breeze hitting her dampened face. She inhaled sharply, her chilled skin becoming slimy and cold to the touch.

Brian wouldn’t know that, though, he hadn’t touched her in days. Weeks, even.

She had wanted to say that his words were malicious, with venom dripping from his tone, like some sort of acid was coating his vocal cords.

But they weren’t. His voice never raised a damn octave, staying completely neutral. And it was driving her mad.

“Then what is this, Brian?”

“I’m collecting my thoughts.”

She laughed, the sound lacking its usual melodic intonation that the guitarist adored so much. He was the reasoning behind the dry chuckle, that much he knew, and he hated it. God, how he despised it. But, he would never let it show. How could he, when he was the initiator of the (extremely childish, now that he thought over it) conflict to begin with? He knew his accusation was emptier than the large building they resided in, and he knew that the results would be horrendous.

But jealousy was an ugly green parasite that had rooted itself in Brian May’s heart, slowly consuming him from the inside out. It was like a devil that rested on his left shoulder, insisting that she was unfaithful, taking advantage of his extended leaves. He foolishly acted on the devil’s words, which led to where they were now.

“Well, how long do you need to ‘collect your thoughts’?” She folded her leg under her opposite thigh, leaning towards him, the distance of only a few feet feeling like worlds away to her broken heart. She would always be drawn to him like some sort of magnet, no matter how badly he hurt her.

“I’m not sure, would you like me to do so elsewhere?”

A beat passed.

“Why, so you can go shag someone else, just like I apparently have been?”

Again, silence.

“You were gone for 3 hours every night on every Tuesday the past month-“

“You kept track? You’re out of your damn mind.” She raised her voice, sitting up, suddenly enraged with his obsessive distrust rather than saddened.

“That’s not important-“

“What’s important is that you’re gone on tour for 10 times as long as that, leaving me here completely alone to my own devices! I trust you enough to believe that you remain mine while you’re away, but for some unknown reason, you can’t manage to think the same about me.”

His flippancy on the issue at hand agitated her (or his lack thereof in general, she supposed) to no end. She wanted him to scream and cry, to throw something, to loudly shout, to shed fury fueled tears as she had. She knew it was wrong, but quite frankly she didn’t care.

He tried to speak up for himself, stuttering out something about how he did in fact trust her, but all to no avail. She would have none of it, not now.

“What’s important, Brian, is that every Tuesday, I’m staying 3 hours after work to try to make it so that I don’t have to rely on you for money, because I don’t want you to think even for a moment I’m with you just because you’re some incredibly famous rockstar who happens to be loaded!”

She was standing now, although she couldn't quite remember bringing her body from the comforts of the soft chair by the mantle to her feet. The roaring fire beside her had died down into a flurry of golden embers, heat still radiating from the pile of charred logs, Brian failing to provide even a fraction of the same warmth.

“Because I love you, and as of late, I’m starting to wonder if you love me too.”

He stood, walking over to where she was in a timely manner, his long legs carrying him quickly. Her breath hitched at their sudden proximity, her surprise only growing when he gripped his hands on either side of her face, pulling her forward and capturing her lips in a long awaited union.

She loathed that her stiff figure was melting into him faster than she would like to admit, and she even more, she loathed the fact she knew she always would.

He was able to taste her tears that hadn’t ceased to roll down her face, the bitter droplets seeping onto the tip of his tongue. He pulled away, his right hand caressing her cheekbone while his forehead rested upon hers. His bottom lip quivered, a wave of emotions hitting him like a hurricane in full force.

His eyes become glassy, and all at once, tears flood his eyesight, pouring down his flushed features. He looked down, shutting his eyes and shaking his head. The bawling didn’t stop as he had hoped, though, it just slowed, the liquid dropping onto her shirt.

“I love you, I love you so much that it hurts. And ’m sorry, I’m so incredibly sorry, darling.”

She smiled softly, lightly massaging the top of his scalp, his locks growing frizzy.

“I know. But it’s just so hard- It seems everyone is getting married, and settling down. Hell, even Fred has his cats.”

They both laughed, and she chewed her bottom lip, a habit of hers that Bri had picked up on in the time he’d known her.

“I just get lonely, Bri, and it feels like you never let me know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours. That’s all, honest to God.”

They moved to sit down, and he pulled closer than they had been in ages.

“I’ll support you in any way shape or form, no matter what, yeah?”

She simply nodded, leaning onto his shoulder.

“Yeah. I know.”

Raising his eyebrows, he cocked his head, choosing his next words carefully.

“And if you’re serious about, y’know, having a family and ‘settling down’ and everything, I’ll do it.”

She met his eyes, her smile growing wider.

“Really?”

He hummed, nodding his head. “I love you, and this house is far too quiet.”

She giggled, tossing her arms around his neck and throwing herself on him.

“I must say I agree.”

After the grins had retreated into soft smiles, and the two had come to a much more stolid point, she sat up, patting her lap.

Brian understood immediately, laying his tired head down and allowing her to play with his hair. She moved her hands to oh so lightly trace the crook of his nose and the bags under his eyes (from the late nights he spent performing, wishing he was in the exact position he was in now), the ticklish feeling making him nuzzle into her hand with a whine.

She couldn’t help but smile at the beautiful boy beneath her, as even with all the work that there was to be done between them, she felt confident that he was in it for the long haul.

🦔⭑ 🎸

me @ u for reading that

ty for reading, like and rb if u wanna :) go drink some water and eat some protein if u can!

as always, xx hj <3

[b0rista]

Oh my god, oh my GOD you gave me the most ridiculous brainrot with those hcs of the Titan trio in a gloomy city, I literally haven’t stopped thinking about it all day. If you’re still open for requests, could you maybe write something similar, but with the reader having a crush on bertholdt, or being his s/o in that au? Thank you so much if you do, I hope you have a lovely day! 🥰

— ❝︎ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 & 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐎 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍! 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐀𝐔 𝐏𝐓. 𝐓𝐖𝐎 ; 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐗 𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐓. ·˚ ༘

♡︎ : PLEASE I'M SO GLAD THAT YOU LIKED ITDK I LOWKEY FELL OFF AT THE END BUT TYTY 🥺 and tbh i was THIS CLOSE 🤏 to turning it into a bert x reader post so you like read my mind PLSKD. and i hope you have a lovely day, too!! 🥺

reader x bertholdt version of this! i suggest reading those headcanons first because i absolutely refuSe to attempt to explain the atmosphere again because i'm illiterate gegsgdgh

if you'd like a music recommendation for when you're reading this, literally just play the band cigarettes after sex and you'll get the vibe i'm tryna put off 😭

also this is long and dragged out and im SORRYYFHF

because there isn't a whole lot to change (other than bertholt's feelings for annie; he's older, so in this version, he's over it entirely), everything will be the same as it was in the first part. the four of you, all living in extremely gloomy territory. you're only close with eachother, and it's the sour scent of cigarette smoke and green tea keeping the lot of you sane. that, and the rain. the sweet, senseless rain.

as before, bertholdt's in his twenties, and currently working as a philosophy professor's assistant. his workplace is at a local community college, where you and the other two occasionally visit.

the same goes for the others, as well— while annie's a policy analyst, reiner's taken up certified training. again, not much is different from the first version, if anything at all. what you do for a living is entirely up to you. as for lodging, you're still sharing an apartment with annie, and the boys still visit far too often than remotely necessary. for such a big city, the four of you don't really get out much. really, if you ever do, it's with eachother. you're a very, very tight-knit posse.

back during your college campus days, you're liking toward bertholdt was merely platonic. after all, not only were the bunch of you focused on your academia, but he was always the quieter sort. back then, you were more close to reiner, and even annie, who's worse. still, that didn't mean the two of you didn't interact quite a bit. whenever you were struggling with your studies, he was always offering to help. if we're being entirely honest, there were quite a few exams that you'd have likely failed if it weren't for his assistance.

now, the two of you have grown far more comfortable with one another. of course, college was years ago. as time went on, you'd managed to get closer to him, and vice versa. all four of you are close, despite you having turned their trio into a quartet only a mere matter of years ago. somehow, it felt as they were waiting for you to join them.

if you read the part before this one, you read the instance of which you were hassled on the subway, ultimately leading to an actual buddy system in your favor. well, your friends claim that it's in your favor, anyway. really, it feels like babysitting. they don't like whenever you board the underground train by yourself, and you've been caught trying once or twice. the first time, it was by reiner, who nearly bit your head off. the second time, it was by bert, who was mildly displeased.

instead of scolding you, though, he only boarded the same train as you, offering to see you home. unlike reiner, bertholdt isn't aggressive, especially towards you. if anything, he's protective. he doesn't like it whenever the lingering eyes of a stranger land on you, and he sure as hell isn't fond of the thought of another man taking you home. if you're the more flamboyant sort, and you're unafraid of a fling or two, he'll be quietly bitter. of course, he'll never tell you what to do with your life. he'll tell you to be careful with who you trust, and to stay safe. he's only one call away.

back to your feelings, though. currently, your quiet crush on bertholdt is rising with every given day. it's a struggle, bearing feelings for a man so closed off. nevertheless, it's uncontrollable. fortunately, your pining towards him is more subtle than it is obvious, so he's yet to actually realize. that, and he's fucking oblivious. annie and reiner, however? they're as observing as they come. they know about it, and while they don't tease you, they do root for you. reiner more than annie, because annie's horrible at that sort of thing. still, 10/10 friends.

as of right now, you have three pieces of bertholdt's clothing in your closet. a sweater, a scarf, and a t-shirt. he hasn't asked for any of them back, so they're practically yours. they were all loaned to you on seperate occasions. and although he'll never tell you, there's an actual reason for why he hasn't asked for them back— one time, while you were wearing his sweatshirt, he caught a brief glimpse of you from afar: you were bringing the collar to your nose, inhaling the bittersweet scent of his cologne, his scent. you looked so pleased, and it fucking melted him. he can't bring himself to take anything back that he gives to you.

cuddling. all of you cuddle, though it's a bit subtle. whenever the four of you gather at you and annie's apartment after a rough week, you all have this moment where for hours, you simply sit in silence, watching the rain pour atop the cityscape from the other side of the balcony. the television is lowly drumming in the background, and glasses of tea mixed with pure whiskey sit ontop of the coffee table behind you. you do this as a group, and it's weirdly cinematic. when annie's head isn't rested against your shoulder, you like to press the bottom of your chin onto the top of bertholdt's head. from behind him, your arms lazily wrap around his shoulders, and he sinks into you. this is such a weekly occurrence, neither of you even think much of it. after all, reiner and annie are falling asleep ontop of one another beside you. when they do, you and bertholdt often have a quiet conversation. it's sweet, and exactly what the two of you need.

one time, he took you to an ice sculpture festival. it was the midst of winter, and there was one showcasing in the city. of course, the other two were invited. however, they both claimed to be "busy," when really, they went out to see a movie so the two of you could actually do something together. that being said, you went as a pair.

it was actually fun, to your surprise. not because of the sculptures themselves, but because of how much bertholdt actually liked them. for being so closed off, he showed quite a bit of interest in them. y'all know he's artsy. you couldn't help yourself— as he was silently gawking over a ten foot sculpture of a roaring tiger, you called him cute.

of course, knowing him, he immediately started to flush. due to the weather, he easily pinned the redness of his cheeks to the cold. you, of course, were smarter than that.

speaking of the cold, you were freezing. while you made sure to bundle up, you didn't think to bring a scarf. the blisteringly cold wind tickled at your exposed neck, earning itself a shiver from you. you may not have thought much of it, but he certainly did.

from directly behind you, you felt a hand move to hold your hair out of the way as a large, burgundy fabric coiled itself around your neck, immediately encasing you in its warmth. glancing both behind and above you, you saw bertholdt, snugly tying his own scarf around you. from the looks of it, he thought nothing of it. you were cold, and he wanted to fix that. still, the brief collision of his palm against your bare skin was enough to make you melt.

cigarette sharing. this is just,, a thing. the entire group does it, you and bertholdt especially. there have been plenty of instances where you've snatched a dart from in between his lips, bringing it to your own. vice versa, as well— he's a bit more gentle with it, though. when he reaches for your lips, he's careful, and his knuckles ever so slightly graze against your face as he tugs the cigarette from out of your mouth. to this day, you debate surprising him with a quick kiss to his hand.

speaking of kisses, several have been placed on your forehead. despite not being an item, after a particular rough moment, bertholdt's incredibly tender whilst comforting you. by your shoulders, you'll be pulled into an embrace, where he'll bury his nose within your hair while quietly reassuring you. using your chin to raise your face, he'll place a soft, sweet kiss on the center of your forehead. it's short, but effective.

this man is your personal umbrella. if it's pouring rain—which it usually is— and you're without coverage, he is your coverage. he'll either pull off his jacket and use it to cover your head from the rain, or you'll be sheepishly pulled into his chest, where he sacrifices his back to keep you dry.

if the two of you ever exchanged your feelings toward one another, it would be through a dramatic, rainy confession.

you likely went first, blurting out what you felt through a flash of frustrated impulse; it was pouring down rain, and somehow, the two of you had gotten into a conflict in the parking lot of bertholdt's apartment complex. now, you were shouting at him, "perhaps it's because i love you, you goddamn imbecile!"

and he just,, stared. you stared in horror, he stared in utter shock. now, the two of you were drenched, and you were absolutely mortified.

after a couple of moments, you would falter. digging into the left pocket of your coat, you would pull out your pack of marlboros— despite the rain, you moved to get a smoke. "fuck this," you said, "i need a cigarette."

however, right as you flipped the top of the pack open, it would be abruptly smacked out of your grasp, rendering you speechless. and before you could even regain those words of yours back, they were quickly halted by the lips of another, shutting you up for good.

with multiple year's worth of pent up emotions, you and bertholdt kiss beneath the weeping sky.