#she would make them even more interesting

[split-spectrum]

YOU'VE GOT TO LEARN

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Tags: extremely dubious consent, non-con elements, explicit sexual content, exhibitionism, age gap, established relationship, jealousy, possessive!joel, softdom!joel, unprotected sex, alcohol, hair pulling

Length: 3.3K

Summary: At a client's house party, you catch yourself getting jealous of other eyes on Joel. Joel pulls you aside to show you exactly what he thinks of that.

This is my first time writing for Joel Miller, so please go easy on me <3

☆☆☆

What is it about Joel that makes him most attractive when he's stuck somewhere he doesn't want to be?

You tip back the last of your whiskey sour, gazing at the tight creases in the corners of his eyes as he nods along with the blond guy who's been talking for twenty painful minutes about the crypto market. Joel is leaning back, arms folded over his chest, his big shoulders pushing at the seams of his denim shirt.

He once told you that no one besides you could tell his emotions on his face. You'd laughed and called bullshit at the time, telling him every thought in that pretty head of his showed up plain as day on his face, but right now it doesn't seem to matter. He's been looking like he'd swallowed glass since this guy started talking, and it doesn't seem to make a bit of difference to him.

When Joel had asked if you wanted to come along to the holiday party one of his clients was having at his house, you'd said yes even after hearing that the guy was 'kind of an idiot' and you'd probably be 'bored to tears'. Joel would have skipped it, but unfortunately it was one of his biggest clients, and the invitation wasn't one he could politely decline.

Right now, though, you're sort of wishing you'd listened to him. The party stopped being fun somewhere around the second MLM scheme that had been pitched to you, and you're now counting the minutes until you'll hit the mark Joel set on the drive there: "Least a couple hours - then we can head out."

The guy takes a short pause, then launches into another tirade on bitcoin, and you realize you're going to need another drink to get through it. Joel's arm slips from around your waist as you pull away.

"Be right back, fellas. I'm going to get a refill."

Joel's brows lift as you leave him behind. "Now hold on there. Wouldn't be much of a gentleman if I let you get your own drink-"

You wave him off, trying to hold in a smirk. "No really, I need to take a lap. Stretch my legs."

He licks his lips, looks off to the side for a second before calling after you, "Grab me one on your way back, will ya?"

You smile innocently. "You got it."

After your host declines your offer to get him something, you head to the kitchen, making a little chit chat on your way to the well-stocked fridge. You decide to get Joel's beer before you return to the open bar to ask for another drink of your own. You hook your knuckles around the neck of a Modelo, no sooner closing the door to the fridge before you glance back in Joel's direction, seeing he's been joined by a few more people.

It isn't surprising. Joel's the type of guy who tends to draw attention, and not just because of his looks. He's the guy who's in charge, even when he's not in charge. People gravitate toward him; just something about his presence that makes him the most interesting thing in every room.

In spite of that, your attention isn't on him at the moment. It's on the girl making moon eyes beside him. She's tossing a long, shiny ponytail behind her shoulder and grinning ear to ear despite the fact that bitcoin boy hasn't stopped talking.

Picking up a bottle opener, you pop the cap off the beer in your hand by muscle memory, not able to tear your eyes off of them. Joel's attention is still on the host, but when she says something to him, you watch him pull his chin back to nod, holding her in the corner of his eye to give a quick smile.

Kelly, you remember. That's her name. She's the receptionist at the client's office, and she's probably seen more of Joel this month than you have.

You watch as she cranks up her smile another thousand watts, laughing at something one of the other guys in the group has said. Kelly, you think. No. Probably spells it with an i. Kelli. Probably dots it with a heart.

Your face is starting to warm up, and when someone on the other side of the kitchen counter gently asks if you're alright, you clear your throat, then reply that you're fine as you quickly open the fridge for a second Modelo. It's time for you to slow down on the whiskey.

As you make your way back to the group, you catch Kelly/Kelli's eyes and give her a subdued smile. She blinks and smiles back, suddenly looking very shy.

"Now what did I miss?" you ask, when the men dissolve into laughter.

Henry, one of the contractors under Joel, shakes his head. "It ain't worth repeating in the presence of a lady."

The host interjects, "So what do you call Kelly?"

Henry puts an arm around her shoulder. "Aw, she's heard it all before, haven'tcha?"

"That don't mean she wants to hear it from you!" one of the other men shouts, and there's another round of laughter while you bite your lip, watching Joel's eyes as they dip to Henry's arm.

You wrap your lips around the tip of the bottle in your hand, letting the taste of the beer give your mouth an excuse to look sour. Henry's hand is dropping from Kelly's shoulder down to her waist, and while the conversation carries on, Joel leans in close so that only Henry - and you - can hear.

"Cool it, Henry."

"Huh?" comes the slow reply, as he pretends not to have understood him.

Joel just lifts his brows, and that's all it takes for Henry to back off, looking a little sheepish as he unwinds himself from Kelly, who looks more than a little relieved.

Henry turns to you, suddenly trying to make small talk, to save face. "Have you two met? This's our girl Kelly. She takes good care of us, don'tcha, sweetheart?"

You give a polite smile. "We've met. Nice to see you, again. Both of you."

"Uh huh," Henry answers half-heartedly before he wanders off, perhaps to join another conversation, or just to find another drink.

Kelly gives you another polite smile, then as the host starts to back away, bringing the rest of the group with him, she goes along with the crowd. Before she leaves, though, she softly murmurs to Joel, "Thanks for that."

He answers with a stiff nod, but it's more than enough to put the stars back in her eyes as she walks away, leaving the two of you alone.

You're biting your lip again, practically chewing on it, as you dangle Joel's beer by the throat, handing it over to him.

"Thank you," he says, then tips it back immediately.

You don't reply, lost in thought, but pretending nonchalance as you watch the group leave.

"Meant what I said, though," Joel adds in your silence. "Shoulda let me get it. I don't like to have you wanderin' around on your own. Not with this bunch of degenerates."

You smirk. "What, like Henry?"

"For one, yeah," he says, turning to face you now that the sounds of the party are fading into the background. "Lookin' the way you do, won't be able to keep their eyes or their hands off ya."

You laugh him off, but can't pretend that his voice isn't settling right in the bottom of your stomach. He's standing a little closer, now, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath, mixed with the spice of his cologne. Something about him talking this way puts some boldness into you, and your words come out a bit more reckless than they should.

"Well, maybe you should have asked Kelly to get your drink, then."

He looks dumbfounded for a moment, and you widen your smile to show you're joking.

"I mean, I'm sure she would have," you go on, digging yourself deeper even as your heart kicks up faster. If you'd switched to beer two drinks ago, you probably would have explained yourself better. You would have insisted it was just a joke, because she so clearly has a crush on him. But your words are just swimming in all that whiskey.

"Cute little thing like that," you say, shrugging. "Probably don't mind her 'taking care of you', do ya?"

Joel's eyes are fixed on you, voice easing down into his chest when he asks softly, warningly, "What did you just say?"

He's turned all the way toward you, and all at once the room feels so much smaller, your face so much hotter. He's waiting for an answer, and your breath is caught high in your throat. "I-uh... it was just... nothing."

He's very slowly setting down his beer, looking down to a side table. "Wasn't nothing; I heard it." He looks back up at you, pinning you hard where you stand. "Now repeat it. Wanna make sure I heard you right."

You swallow, mouth dry. "I nn-nothing, I just said..." You force a crooked smile that you know he isn't buying for a second. "Y'know... she's- she's pretty cute, and maybe you... maybe she oughta... 'cause maybe you want her to..."

Your babbling doesn't impress him. He's just staring at you under a darkened brow. He opens his mouth to say something, but the motion of someone else entering the room catches your eye and you snap defensively before he can say anything.

"Joel, I didn't mean-"

He follows your gaze, then turns away and shuts you up with a wide, heavy palm sliding to the small of your back. "C'mere," he says. "C'mon." And the way he breathes it as he guides you out of the room and down the hall, you don't argue.

He finds a bathroom and pushes you inside. While you're looking over his shoulder to make sure no one sees you going in together, he's staring straight ahead, and he closes the door with one hand, still holding you with the other.

"I'm... sorry," you confess as soon as the door closes. "That was stupid. I don't know why I said it."

"Yeah," he grunts, crowding you up against the closed door. "You do."

The way he has you held close, arm around your waist and words warm against your mouth, you'd normally try to kiss him right about now. But looking into his eyes, you know there's no kiss waiting for you on his lips.

He's mad, and you're a little scared. Not scared of him, but scared of what he might do at a party where people might hear. People that he has to work with on Monday.

He isn't drunk, but he's had a few, and your fear ratchets up when his hand slides to your backside, gripping your ass and kneading it as he growls, "You think I give a goddamn about some teenager?"

Despite the way he's manhandling you through your dress, you can't help but roll your eyes. "She's not a teenager."

She isn't really that much younger than you are. And with Joel in his fifties, the thought has crossed your mind that he might just be keeping you around because he got a thing for younger women. You'd just never said anything out loud. Until tonight.

He stops, pulls back. "Alright, guess I'm not bein' clear enough."

He takes you by both arms, pushes you against the sink so you're looking at yourself in the mirror. Behind you, he starts unbuckling his belt.

"Joel..." you whisper, heat pulsing through you just from the sound of the metal clinking. You know you should ask him to stop - is the door even fucking locked? - but you can't get any other words out besides his name.

He slides a hand under your dress, pushing it up and over the swell of your ass. He doesn't slow down, doesn't even run his hand over your skin. He just pushes your panties to the side, pressing the head of his cock right up against your pussy, holding it there as he grits against your ear, "Guess I gotta show you where I want to be."

He pushes the thick head inside you, wrapping one arm around your stomach to keep you from falling forward. His other hand is flat on the sink, not playing with you, not easing anything. He doesn't give you any prep, just shoves in slowly, his cock stretching you all in one go.

You hiss, brow pinching. He didn't even let you get wet enough to take him. You can feel every damn move he makes inside you as he shifts his hips closer to pin you hard against the cold edge of the sink. When he's all the way in, you watch your mouth pop open in the mirror as you take a few panting breaths. The stretch is almost unbearable, but feeling so full of him, you don't want to stop.

He eases out, just a couple inches to coat himself in your slick, then presses back in even harder. You feel like your lungs are going to give out from how tight your gasps are getting.

"Fuck, Joel... hurts," you whine.

He slowly slides you off of him, then feeds it right back in.

"I know it does, honey," he breathes against your neck. "I know it does."

His deep voice makes you pulse around his cock and he drags his big, calloused hand down to the front of your dress, lifting it up just far enough to see your pussy, stuffed full of him. You're leaking down the sides of his cock, glistening in the dim light of the bathroom.

"See that?" he asks, unmoving. "That's where I wanna be. You hear me?"

Giving a shaky nod of your head, you whimper, "Yes."

He starts to piston in and out of you, and you can only watch. You close your eyes tight when he speeds up a little. "It's... mm- it's too much."

He doesn't change his pace. "Ain't about feelin' good. You've got to learn."

He groans when your pussy clenches around him, and you follow with an answering moan as the tension in your muscles starts to fade. You're soaking down both sides of your inner thighs as he opens you up further.

When you've dissolved into whimpering his name, he hooks one arm around your leg from behind, lifting it up so that you're spread wider. His other hand is still holding up your dress.

"Look at that," he grunts, making an obscene display of his cock fucking into your pussy. "Look how fucking hard you make me, baby."

You whine again, struck dumb by how good he feels with every snap of his hips. "God, feels so good... please..."

He's dragging his teeth against your neck when he replies, "Please?"

"Please, Joel. Feels so fucking good," you repeat, eyes closed.

You want him to fuck you properly, to bend you over and make you take him, to use his fingers - to let you use yours - anything; it doesn't matter. You're so worked up, you just need a little more.

"M'not gonna give you what you want, darlin'," he answers. "Don't work like that."

You can't help but loose a plaintive moan, even knowing you deserve it. "Baby, please-"

He drops your knee, letting your leg come down to the floor as he bends you over the sink. When he starts to fuck you for real, you can't hold it together anymore, softly pleading and whining for more, begging him not to stop, opening your eyes to watch him in the mirror as he starts to lose himself, too.

Until a knock at the door jars you right out of it.

"Is anybody in there?"

Joel doesn't even slow down. Just flattens his palm along your lower back to bend you back over after you jolt up.

"Joel-" you hiss. But he keeps giving you exactly what you need, and your eyes roll back.

"Hello?"

He slides a warm hand down the open neckline of your dress, kneading your breast as he looks at you in the mirror. His brown eyes are stern and steady. "Answer."

He keeps feeding you his cock, and you hiccup, legs shaking as you whisper, "I- I don't..."

"Go on and tell 'em. You're busy."

Fuck fuck fuck. "Uhh, s-someone's in here!"

Your voice comes out strained and airy, and you wait for the reply while Joel kisses the skin of your shoulder, sliding the front of your dress down.

"Joel, it's... somebody is..."

"Nothin' in here that I wanna hide," he growls, pushing his hips right up against your ass as he circles a thumb around one of your nipples.

"Fuck, Joel..." The silence outside has been long enough that the person is probably gone, but your pulse is still pounding, and he's making it so fucking hard to think. "Oh my god, yes..."

He's quietly panting, lifts his head long enough to say, "Understand now, pretty girl?"

"Mm..."

"This here's right where I wanna be. Nowhere else," he grunts, pressing his weight down on you, the squelching sounds between your bodies getting louder than your moans. Your eyes are drawn up to the mirror, watching the veins in his neck tighten as he fucks into you harder and harder. "You got it?"

You frantically nod, desperately near the edge of coming. "Fuck, yes, mhm..."

"Maybe I oughta fill you up right here, leave you with somethin' to think about."

"N-no," you stutter, almost sounding like you're sobbing your words. "P-please, I get it. I heard what you s-said."

He has to let you come. You don't care that you were acting up, making something out of nothing. You don't care what got him mad at you. All you can think about is how flushed his chest is beneath the open collar of his shirt, how tight his grip is, how stiff his jaw is set. You just want to listen to that throaty growl, feel him mercilessly fucking you a little while longer. That's all it would take. Just a little bit...

"Fuck-"

Joel pulls out, hand tightening into a fist around himself. You slump against the sink.

"Goddamn, baby. Almost got me, there."

You're on the verge of tears, shuddering with wild breaths. "No, fuck, Joel, please please please-"

He grips a handful of your ass, fingers brushing through your wetness and making you whimper.

"Told you, I ain't giving you what you want."

You hear him zip up his jeans, and then his hand is back at your ass, but this time he's pulling your panties back into place and tugging your dress down.

"Never gonna learn that way."

You whine pitifully, knowing you brought this on yourself, but still pleading under your breath, face drawn tight with frustration.

He helps you stand up properly, giving you his arm to steady yourself. You straighten your dress, cleaning up your appearance in the mirror, and eventually you're able to leave the bathroom, walking out on trembling legs.

He gives you a smirk as you leave the hallway, and something in you finally snaps. Maybe it's a little unfair, but you know exactly what to say to knock that smirk off his face.

You lean in and whisper in his ear, "Guess you didn't want me that bad after all, or you would have finished."

And all of ten minutes later, you're in the cab of his truck. You're screaming his name as you come all over his cock, hands fisted in his hair, tugging it hard while he pumps you full of his cum, cursing you the whole time.

Turns out, he's the one who's never gonna learn.

--

A/N: Thanks for reading! I don't have a taglist for Joel, but I'll add one if I ever write for him again. Hope you enjoyed! :)

Masterlist

[angelltheninth]

Arcane Characters Make Food for You

Pairing: Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Maddie, Ekko, Vander, Silco, Sevika, Viktor, Jayce, Mel x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, domestic fluff, kissing, making food, teasing

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters

A/N: I already wrote this on my old blog but now is a good time to re-write it.

Jinx knows how to cook pretty well, surprisingly enough. Or maybe not so surprisingly given how she's always the one making things and experimenting. However that also means she might make some really weird meals.

It's something you'll have to deal with if you're with her and might have to develop a strong stomach. She already has it because she grew up in Zaun and ate a lot of different things. For you she wouldn't recommend some of them yet and she will try her best to make something that you'll like. And she won't get too offended if you don't eat her cooking right away.

"I made ya some breakfast, ta-da! It's a little sticky but don't worry, eat your fill and I'll clean up the mess later. Don't look at it like that, it might not look pretty but I promise ya it's so good. I could eat this every day. I hope I'll get to eat it together it with ya every day, sugar."

Vi doesn't know how to cook because she never had the opportunity to learn. The first few dishes are bad, like really bad, almost burn the toast and eggs type of bad but Vi she isn't the kind of person to give up. She'll keep trying until she gets it right.

There have been times where she did burn things and she won't let you eat it since it's not right. She wants you to have the best of the best, even if she didn't. Might get a little distracted when you're in the kitchen with her so she prefers to cook by herself even if you're there with her. Regardless of how many times she gets it wrong she at least wants to learn to cook your favorite.

"Yes, this is burned toast but this time it's not my fault, it's yours. Well you're the one who walked in here looking all cute and distracted me. One kiss is all it takes if it's from you, sweet stuff. Sit down and let me do this right and if you do you'll get something sweeter than this."

Caitlyn knows how to cook really well. She did grow up with people doing the cooking for her however she was curious and wanted to learn how to do it on her own. She's a very hand-on learner, now she can use some of her skills to make you happy.

She gets up really early anyways so she might as well make breakfast for the both of you. The first time she brings you breakfast in bed she thinks your reaction is cute, the way you stare at her, eyes wide and drooling over the food. For her it's not odd to have breakfast in bed. And if you stick with her you'll get used to her pampering you. Be sure to tell her how the food tastes.

"Good morning, darling, I brought you something. See, I didn't just brag about my cooking skills, this is me showing you I can cook. Showing off? Suppose I am a little bit, it's not my fault you didn't really think I would bring you breakfast in bed."

Maddie can cook some dishes but she can cook them well. Her skills aren't anything impressive but they don't need to be because she can get take out too. But she is more than happy to share what ever she makes with you.

She falls back on take out more often than she would like to admit. However not when she invites you over to her place, then she will put her best foot forward. A lot of that is because she wants to impress you hard, but it also gets her to work on her skills either way she wins. She keeps looking at you very intently while you take that first bite. Thankfully she doesn't seem to do a bad job if your smile is anything to go by.

"I'm not weird for watching you eat, it's called being smitten, gorgeous. Anything you do is interesting to me, you know that by now. This isn't empty flattery. I already got you to eat my cooking, I don't need to butter you up at this point."

Ekko isn't the best cook out there, he will be completely honest with you. While he does know the basic things you can't really expect anything fancy. If anything he focuses more on the dish being filling than tasty.

The thing about him cooking for the two of you is that he can only do it on his free time, which isn't a lot. Therefore he wants to make it a bonding activity. A cute date of sorts, mostly in the late evening when the rest of work is done. Sometimes he will try to surprise you but its hard when his living space isn't that big and everyone knows everything in the Firelights. The gesture counts.

"There wasn't much time so it's pretty simple, but at least it's your favorite, Firefly. No, I actually finished the new project, I had extra time to kill. Please, don't thank me! It seemed only right for me to make you something after you cheered me up this morning."

Vander knows how to cook really, really well. He kids to raise, and he was on his own for a very long time, he had to become a good cook. Plus he makes awesome drinks, being a good cook was a bonus skill for him.

He's always the first one to wake up and start the day in the Last Drop and he always makes breakfast for everyone. Not just breakfast but every meal, his kids need to eat a lot, there's always a little left over for later. Even if he feels a little sleepy himself he at least wants to put something on the table. It's the dad instincts in him. And husband instincts, hopefully.

"Don't ya even think about sneaking up on me right now, darlin'. I've got a pan full of sizzling hot oil in my hand, I don't want it all over us. Hugs are fine, I always love ya being close to me, but keep your hands to yourself. We both know ya get handsy in the morning."

Silco didn't know how to cook before he adopted Jinx, since then he's had to learn. It wasn't easy but now he does know a lot and he can impress the woman he's dating. Now when you stay over you can expect good for for your date, and good food when you wake up.

When the dating gets more serious he lets you help him cook, but until then he pretty much does it on his own. Jinx will go nowhere near the kitchen alone, not after that one explosion. He does have a list of recipes that he makes the most. And a few that he made up. Sometimes ingredients are hard to come by so he needs to improvise.

"Pass me the flour would you, love? This time I will follow the recipe, yes, the last time there was a bit too much sugar in there. I know you liked it but it's not the healthiest thing now is it? Fine, call me a worried dad, I know you think it's attractive."

Sevika isn't able too cook that well, she never was, she always liked others cooking for her though. However when you tease her about it she takes it as a challenge. And you know damn well that she doesn't back down from a challenge.

Curses a lot when she messes up, though you can bet that she's not gonna let food be the thing that beats her. When you walk into the kitchen it's a mess which will take a while to clean up. But at least she managed to make the dish this time and it's quite good. For her hard work you give her a very passionate kiss and that just makes her wanna work harder. That's the best reward she can ask for.

"One kiss for at that work, doll? I think I earned myself a little more than that, maybe you on the table instead of all this food. Yeah, I know it's gonna get cold, you're right. Can't let all this hard work go to waste, but when we're done we have to work all that food off."

Viktor doesn't have as much time to cook as he could if he worked a bit less. Not that his skills are award worthy but he can make a few things, at least in his opinion. Give his cooking a chance.

When he was a student in the academy he had to learn how to make quick meals and that is where most of his strength is. Just very simple dishes but he knows how to make them well. There are times when he himself forgets to eat so he makes sure he gets a good meal when he can. If you're part of that that's even better. Having you eat his cooking makes cooking more fun.

"If you think cooking this is so easy then you make it will you, beautiful? Ah so now you like it, I see how it is. I'm just kidding, I love making food for you when I can. But if you want to make it yourself please let me do a taste test first. I promise to be brutally honest, just like you are with me."

Jayce has absolutely no skills in the kitchen unless you need him to fix or build things in there. He knows this too and will admit it right away. Trust him he is much better in science than in cooking food.

That being said he will join you in the kitchen when you cook. He takes an interest in it because the way you cook makes his mouth water. When he learns about what your favorite food is he wants to lean how to cook it. However he does this in secret because he wants to surprise you. Sure enough he's able to get the biggest smile out of you when he presents you with your favorite meal.

"I learned it secretly, all for you, babe. Well I am quite good with my hands and I enjoy working, that was just another excuse to learn. Of course I don't have an ulterior motive for it! But if I did... and if it was kissing... would you kiss me for doing a good job?"

Mel is actually an amazing cook and knows a ton of recipes. Including your favorites of course. Do you really think she'd invite you over and offer you nothing to eat?

It's been a long time since she had to cook for anyone but herself but she's not bad at it at all. She has high standards when it comes to good food specifically because she holds herself to high standards. It doesn't matter how simple or complicated the meal is. When she invites you over and offers to make you food you better believe you're eating good that night. Not strictly food either.

"Beloved, slow down a little, the food isn't going anywhere and neither am I. We have all night. Every time I make food I do so because I want to enjoy a good meal, and you should too. And please be careful, I don't want you to choke, on the food that is."

[sterpernie]

Probably no one will read this, but I hope someone will. To my fellow Americans, it is absolutely fair to cut people off for beliefs you disagree with and may one day lead to you suffering harm, but if you have someone you love with these beliefs that you are thinking about cutting out of your life, please consider a few things first.

1. We are living in echo chambers, repeating our beliefs back at us. If we don't interact with people who believe differently, how are they ever going to hear a different perspective that is not completely twisted by the media they consume?

2. They often don't understand what they are asking for. There is a sizeable minority (1/3 of Americans per the NYT) that do not know Obamacare and the Affordable Care Act (ACA) are the same thing. They want to repeal Obamacare but keep the ACA. People want tariffs not realizing that they aren't the same as sanctions. They don't realize that China is not going to be paying the tariffs, they will. China is not going to eat the costs of the taxes (tariffs) levied against them for exporting to the US, China will just raise the prices of their goods and probably levy tariffs against US exports to China in retaliation like they did during Trump's last term, resulting in everything getting more expensive. It it pretty striking to look at the education demographics of who voted what party.

3. They don't get the whole story. There was an immigration bill that would give the Republicans basically everything they wanted in regard to the border. Trump killed it because he wanted immigration to remain an issue for him to run on. My dad, who listens exclusively to right wing media, heard nothing about it. He was shocked it didn't pass when he was told. When he hears about Palestinians, he only hears about them referred to as terrorists and Hamas, attacking Israel unprovoked. He has never heard about the Nakbas or about how terrible the conditions were in Gaza even prior to October 7th.

4. A scary amount of Americans have no damn clue how the US government works. They think, abortion protections were repealed under democrats, so it's their fault despite the extensive groundwork laid by Republicans ever since Roe v Wade was initially decided in the 1970s culminating in a Republican supermajority on the Supreme court that actually overturned the ruling. They think, why am I paying taxes to forgive someone else's student debt when I didn't go to college/payed off my college loans/worked my butt off for scholarships/made sacrifices so I could afford college/etc, not realizing that the debt forgiveness is really just making sure the programs that were already in place are actually implemented instead of allowing the loan servicers to continue milking these people for cash long after their debt should have been forgiven. They think the economy and how good/bad it's doing is solely up to the President despite the fact that the purse strings are held by Congress and the Federal Reserve, which controls interest rates, is an independent body not controlled by the President.

5. For the immigrants, they don't realize that all immigrants are persona non grata, not just people who came to the US illegally. My immigrant mother told me she votes for Trump because he's "gonna stop all the immigrants who are coming to take our jobs", not realizing that despite her naturalized citizenship, she will always be seen as one of those immigrants she talks about. She doesn't realize when he talks about chain migration, he's talking about the system she took advantage of to bring multiple members of her family to the US and allowed them much better quality of life than the relatives still in her home country. She thinks, because she lives in a large urban coastal area, that all parts of the US are just as accepting.

If you have a loved one with whom your only problem is politics (not abuse of any kind, but someone you love and care for), please consider staying in their lives. I am not saying make friends with people to try and change their beliefs, I am saying give your loved one a face to put to the "radical libs".

when people are like “oh so you’re just gonna judge someone for their political beliefs?” yes actually. I think someone’s values and opinions is a pretty reasonable thing to judge them for.

[00kittenz]

── homie hoppin’ ( lhs, pjs, sjy, psh ) ּ 𓂅⋆ 📙

๑ Heeseung never wanted to believe the rumors about you around campus, to him you could never do wrong and he sees you as nothing less than an angel. But when his friends begin telling him about their nightly escapades with some “mystery girl” that sounds awfully familiar, he grows more suspicious of your true intentions you’ve been hiding all along.

pair: hyung line ㅊ f!reader, college au | warnings: pwp, smut, angst (kinda ??), hook-up culture, yn is the biggest fuckgirl omg (but she’s sooo cuntyy), humour, slut-shaming (not from the boys), daddy kink, oral (m + f. rec), mentions of running a train but it doesn’t happen lol, lots of s.x flashbacks, yn is so unbothered by everything 😴, unprotected s.x (yikes !!!) | teaser wc: 857

thanks to @leeechin & @pshbites for enabling this idea LOL, couldn’t have done it without them frfr. also here’s a silly little preview of what’s to come (it gets real MESSY in this sfdsfsd)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

heeseung was never really the type to ever engage in gossip or drama going around campus. he’d rather simply mind his business and keep it moving, it was useless to entertain it anyway— most of the rumors held zero truth or any proof to back them up. what does seem to grab his attention however, is your name being constantly brought up in almost everyone’s mouths. you were the talk of the whole school and it wasn’t anything good that was being said about the girl he’s been sleeping around with on and off for the past few months or so.

“oh you know about y/n? isn’t she the one who’s always bouncing from one friend group to the next ? i wouldn’t trust her around my man even for a second..”

“didn’t she let leehan hit it at that party last night ? that girl needs to be stopped, she’s always messing around with different guys..”

“wasn’t she just with eunseok last week ? he was telling me all about how him and sungchan took turns on her.”

he couldn’t believe half the stuff that was being said about you. not only was it just plain disrespectful, but it was also disgusting how some people could spew such fabricated nonsense as if you weren’t a real human being with feelings. heeseung knew you two weren’t exclusive but you’ve been seeing each other more frequently, which made him think he might have a chance to make things official. at least he thought so, until he saw you talking with one of his close friends, jaeyun in the library. you both were way too close for comfort and the way you were giving him those same bedroom eyes that you’d always flash at heeseung, made his whole body fill up with an unimaginable amount of rage.

you were quite popular and well known around campus, your charming persona and pretty face was the perfect combo to get anyone to fall head over heels for you. everywhere you went you’d turn heads, all the boys would be breaking their necks just to get a glimpse of you. the tiny skirts you’d always wear had their eyes practically bulging out of their sockets, which only made the other girls seethe in utter jealousy. the way you could command an entire room without even trying was a superpower in itself, you didn’t need to put in the extra work to get all the attention on you because everyone gave it to you automatically.

it wasn’t until heeseung began hearing more about his friend’s sex lives that he’d grow more suspicious of what’s really going on. he usually zones out and doesn’t really listen much whenever they talked about it, but since the movie they were watching wasn’t all that interesting, he began shifting his attention to his friends. jaeyun and jongseong were always bragging about how much pussy they’d get but they seemed to hyperfocus on one particular girl that seems to get brought up a lot in their conversations. jaeyun would say how she gave him the ‘most life changing head’ he’s ever received, meanwhile jongseong was describing how some girl he fucked a few days ago rode his dick like a grade A pornstar.

heeseung wasn’t adding much of his input into the conversation, and neither was sunghoon as he tends to keep that part of his life more private. but, what made him suddenly wanna jump up in his seat was when jaeyun was telling them how hot the girl looked when he fucked her from behind, she had a back tattoo and he thought that was the sexiest shit ever. he never specified exactly what the tattoo was, but he remembers that you also had one too. maybe he’s just reading too much into it ? could it really be you they were talking about ? nah.. there’s no way. he’s sure there’s plenty other women with back tattoos walking around campus, it simply could be an eerie coincidence. he knows he isn’t the only one that you’re sleeping with, but to mess around with his friends would be a new low for him. he wouldn’t know what he’d do if he were to find out that happened..

his worries would only worsen when he catches sunghoon smiling and faintly giggling at his phone about something, to which jongseong asks him what’s so funny. sunghoon simply shrugs it off and says it’s nothing, quickly locking his phone before he lifts up from the couch to announce that he’s going back to his dorm. they all exchange their goodbyes and wish him a safe walk back to his place. but when he left, he was walking in the direction completely opposite of his dorm, he was heading the exact same way it took to get to your building instead. now he’s really starting to overthink at this point. there’s absolutely no way you’re actually fucking all of his friends and he doesn’t have a single clue about it. heeseung may be quite oblivious at times but he isn’t that stupid. he’s probably overreacting. again, could just be a very weird coincidence… right ?

just leave a comment if you wanna be added to the taglist ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ

[userautumn]

Please. Tommys helicopter crashing while him and Buck are still broken up? That would be such great drama.

You know what I want? I want Buck to get mad. He has yet to actually get mad at a love interest. He's been hurt and confused, but I want him to get angry. I want him to go out and fuck like he's getting revenge on Tommy, even though he's the one who got left behind again, and I want him to convince himself he's absolutely fine. Eddie can see it, of course. Bobby and Maddie and all the people who love him can see that he's not fine, but I want Buck to pretend he is like he'll die if he doesn't. He deletes Tommy's name from his contacts and dumps all his stuff in the trash and erases his existence from his life like he's nothing more than yesterday's news.

I want this to continue through the rest of the season, long enough that both the characters and the audience start to think that maybe Buck is fine after all. Maybe this whole thing with Tommy was just a mistake, a hiccup. Maybe Tommy was right and saw writing on the wall that Buck didn't. Maybe he was smart by getting out when he did because Buck doesn't cry. He doesn't vent to Eddie, or show up on his doorstep like a kicked puppy. He lives fast and vibrant, and shows up to work covered in hickeys and lipstick and other people's cologne, and if Tommy really was as transformative of a love as he believed he was, shouldn't he be devastated?

Anyway.

Fast forward to the season finale. Athena has been following a case of corporate corruption where an auto and aeronautics manufacturer has been exposed for using faulty parts in their vehicles that have resulted in auto collisions and deaths across the country. None of this really concerns or interests Buck at all, if he's being honest. He fixes his own car for the most part (Tommy showed him how) and that which he can't do, he takes to his usual mom-and-pop mechanic for them to work on. Which is to say that, his life consists of sex and work, so news reports of [Same Company] being responsible for a Cessna crashing in Northern California don't really filter through.

Not until the 118 is called to a helicopter crash just outside of Los Angeles.

Even then, Buck doesn't think about Tommy. Why would he? Tommy Kinard is barely even a memory at this point, just an idea on the edge of his brain, an almost that was quickly buried. Helicopters crash all the time, so he has no reason to believe there's anything out of the ordinary about this one. But then when they're en route, Maddie's voice comes over the radio, tight with emotion and forcibly professional in a way that makes him immediately nauseous: Captain Nash, please be advised that the helicopter in question is one of our own. It's an LAFD chopper. Then, Hen and Eddie and Chimney and Bobby all turn to look at him, and Buck has nowhere to run from their gaze. Even if he did, he couldn't, because he feels paralyzed. Bobby's voice asking if there are any survivors, and Maddie's voice saying she's unsure get lost to the thrum of his heartbeat in his ears. Every repressed emotion, every memory, every bit of desperate longing and grief and love and anger comes rushing back in full force and all Buck can do is sit there while the engine weaves through Los Angeles traffic.

Tommy is fine, of course. He codes on the way to the hospital (Buck performing CPR on his boyfriend while begging him to stay alive is my drug), but once all is said and done, once he's come out of surgery with a little more metal in his body than he went in there with, he's okay. Buck isn't, not by a mile. He's full of too many emotions that he doesn't know how to sort through, chief among them being love, followed closely by anger, and then, guilt, of all things. But after Tommy opens his eyes, after Buck breaks down spectacularly, and after they finally confess that they love each other, Buck makes Tommy look him in the eyes:

"You don't get to run from this. Not again. I mean it. If you get scared, you talk to me. If you need to slow down, you talk to me. You don't make decisions for me, for us, and expect me to be okay with it. That's not how this works."

"Okay."

"I mean it, Tommy. I can't -"

"I mean it too. I promise. Okay?"

"Okay."

Anyways. Yeah. That's how I would do it.

[sasheemo]

Long day, huh?

Pairing: Detective!Agatha (Agnes O'Connor) x Reader

Summary: Your girlfriend Agnes Agatha, lost to the Scarlet Witch’s spell, has no memory of you or the life you shared. But tonight, you have a daring plan to bring her back.

Tags: Smut, Established Relationship, Strap-ons (Rr), Car Sex

Word count: 6.9k

A/N: So, first Agatha smut! Hope it doesn't suck that bad - would love to hear your thoughts if you’re up for it 💜

Read on AO3

It’s torture, seeing her like this. Agatha, your Agatha, right there yet completely out of reach, trapped under the Scarlet Witch’s spell. You’ve been together for centuries, standing side by side through battles and blood, through the kind of love that’s spanned lifetimes. 

You were there when she first sensed something off in Westview, when she decided to investigate what was happening, and you offered to come along. But everything went south, and now she’s here, roaming around the streets of Westview every day as a ghost of herself, believing she’s someone else entirely. Every moment you see her as this rough, almost bitter stranger, this ‘Detective Agnes’, it drives a wedge through your heart. But tonight, desperation gives birth to a reckless idea: if she can’t remember who she is maybe you can make her remember.

It’a a Friday night, and the most popular bar in Westview is pretty packed, humming with a low murmur and the occasional clink of glass. 

You step inside, searching, and your gaze falls on her almost immediately. She’s right there, Detective Agnes, a rougher, possibly even quirkier version of the woman you’ve loved for centuries, sitting alone at the bar, absently nursing her drink. In the dim light, she looks as alluring as ever, though that familiar playfulness you knew is buried under layers of frustration and some sort of hard-earned dominance. And yet, you have to admit, part of you doesn’t mind it. In fact, you find yourself… intrigued. 

There’s something thrilling about this version of Agatha. Agnes is rough, unapologetically bossy, carrying that particular brand of perpetual irritation that somehow only makes her more magnetic. Not that your Agatha didn’t have these traits, but this… adaptation of her takes them to a whole new level.

You’ve always loved the way she embodied both her feminine and masculine sides so seamlessly, owning every part of herself with that perfect blend of charm, ambiguity, and raw sensuality that defies any simple definition. Agnes though, leans heavily into her masculine side, and you’re definitely not complaining. Not one bit.

You smooth down the short black dress hugging your figure, fingers adjusting the purple gemstone at your collarbone. With slow, intentional steps, you close the distance, sliding onto the stool beside her. The heavy air around her feels electric, an unspoken charge palpable even through her indifference. She’s flipping idly through a small notebook, likely filled with dead ends from whatever “case” has been haunting her lately.

You lean in, letting the bar’s low light and smoky scent curl around you both. “Long day, huh?”

She doesn’t look up right away. She lets out a sigh, flipping another page in her notebook before her gaze shifts in your direction, mildly annoyed. The moment her eyes meet yours, you feel a spark, realizing those mesmerizing blue eyes will always have the same effect on you, no matter what. 

“Would’ve liked to have a quiet drink.” she mutters, lifting her glass as if to punctuate her point. “Not exactly in the mood for small talk.”

“Good thing I’m not here for small talk, then.” You smile, tipping your head slightly, and you see her interest flicker, even if her eyes narrow.

There’s a beat of silence, her gaze lingering a little longer than necessary. She radiates that annoyed, no-nonsense attitude, but there’s something in the way she holds herself tonight that makes you wonder if there isn’t some part of her that still recognizes you, that feels the pull between you. You watch her expression, the rough angles of her face, the way she leans back, sizing you up with all the caution of a predator who’s just discovered someone bold enough to trespass.

“I don’t think I know you.” she says finally, a challenge in her voice.

Your smile doesn’t falter and you lean in just a little closer, enough to catch a whiff of her. Agnes carries this scent of cold air and something darkly earthy, stark and distant. It’s a sharp contrast to Agatha’s usual rich, heady fragrance, the kind that clings to your clothes and fills the room long after she’s gone. But somehow, this raw, unfamiliar scent only adds to her allure, drawing you in deeper. 

“Guess that depends on what you think you know.” your voice drops to a low, almost mocking purr, a faint smirk playing at the corner of your mouth. You hold her gaze, letting the challenge hang in the air between you, your eyes glinting with just enough mystery to keep her guessing.

She lets out a quiet, humorless laugh, but something in her eyes shifts, something curious, as if you’ve stirred something in her she can’t quite place. She looks at you a beat too long before shaking her head and turning back to her drink, as if trying to ignore that spark.

You watch her for a moment, her fingers curling around the glass, her body language guarded, closed off. But there’s that trace of interest, the smallest crack in her armor. She’s intrigued, even if she won’t admit it.

She might be Agnes right now, but you still know how to push her buttons “Looks like you could use a distraction, Detective. I’ve heard it’s been nothing but dead ends for you lately.” you murmur with a sly smile.

Her hand pauses on the glass. The annoyed look is back, but this time it’s different, that reluctant curiosity now obvious on her face. She sets her glass down with a thud, meeting your gaze head-on. “Careful, doll. I don’t do well with strangers thinking they know more than they should.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” You raise your hand, as if in surrender. “I just happen to know that sometimes the best way to clear a clouded mind is a little… fun.”

At that last word you can see her tense up, her shoulders straightening, gaze sharpening. A hint of a smirk crosses her face, but she quickly tamps it down. Agnes may be all business, but there’s a flicker of something in her eyes that’s raw, hungry.

“Dance with me.” you say softly, your fingers reaching out to brush the cool glass of her drink. “Who knows, might be exactly what need…”

She lets out a soft snort, like she’s about to dismiss you, but then she pushes back from the bar. Standing, she adjusts her flannel shirt, slipping the small notebook into the inner pocket with a quick, practiced motion as her dark eyes stay trained on you with an intensity that makes the air thicken. She’s a predator through and through, and for a moment, you feel the weight of her gaze like a physical thing, binding you in place.

She holds out a hand, and you take it, feeling her strong fingers and the roughness of her skin against your own. She pulls you toward a crowded corner of the bar where people are already moving to the low, steady beat thrumming through the room. Dim lights cast a warm, hazy glow, bodies swaying close around you, amplifying the charged atmosphere.

Agnes holds you with a firmness that’s almost possessive, both hands at your waist. Her gaze locks onto yours, and in this moment, she’s both a stranger and achingly recognizable, the rough edge of Agnes mingling with the soul of Agatha beneath. Every inch of her exudes assertiveness, her energy powerful and magnetic as her hands rest on your body with unbreakable certainty.

The dance starts slow, a sway more than anything else, but as the tension grows, she pulls you a little closer. Her gaze flickers down to the necklace at your collarbone, the deep violet stone a stark contrast against your skin. You catch the faintest twitch in her expression, her eyes darkening as she lifts her gaze to meet yours again. There’s a hunger there, a dangerous, simmering intensity that speaks of possession and intrigue.

“You’ve got a strange way of introducing yourself.” she murmurs, her voice low, carrying an edge of danger. “Most people don’t… walk up to me like this.”

You lean in, your voice a whisper against her ear “I’m not ‘most people’, Detective.”. You let that last word linger, savoring the irony of it, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your mouth as you think of the illusion she’s wrapped up in.

She chuckles, a rough sound that vibrates through you, and her hold on your waist tightens, fingers pressing into your skin through the thin fabric. “Maybe you’re just a little too bold for your own good.”

You don’t bother to reply, feeling the intensity between you coil tighter as her hand slips around to the small of your back, pulling you firmly against her. Her gaze holds yours, dark and fierce, that rough, predatory edge simmering into something more primal. The dance transforms, becoming less about the music and entirely about the electrifying connection between you, every look and touch stoking the fire higher.

You press closer, letting your hips grind against hers in slow, deliberate circles, matching the pulsing rhythm that fills the room. Each movement is calculated, provocative, testing the limits of her restraint. You can feel the tension radiate through her hands as they grip your waist, and her breath seems to hitch every time your body sways against hers.

In the dim light, shadows fall across her face, but her eyes glint with a deepening hunger. You reach up, one arm slipping around her neck as your fingers trace along her skin before threading into her hair. The contact is intimate, possessive, and she leans into it, visibly captivated by the press of your body and the brush of your fingers. With a mischievous smile, you let your other hand glide up her face, fingertips trailing along the line of her jaw as you bite your lip, savoring the spark of control you have over her. 

In an instant, something snaps. Agnes moves with a swift, unrestrained urgency, her hands locking onto your hips as she spins you around, pulling your back against her with a possessive force that steals your breath. Her body presses flush against yours, fitting perfectly, her grip on you strong and unyielding.

The rhythm of the music seems to fade as she matches your movements from behind, grinding into you in time with your slow, rolling pace. The friction between you is scorching, each press of her hips intensifying the heat building between you. Her hands slide along your waist, her fingers digging in as if anchoring herself to you, claiming every inch of space between you.

With Agnes pressed firmly against your back, one of your hands finds its way behind her neck once again, fingers weaving into her hair as your bodies move together, grinding in sync to the steady beat. The desire simmering between you is overwhelming, each movement intensifying the tension coiling in your core.

But as her grip stays firm on your hips, you become aware of something else, something hard pressing insistently against you. The firm, unmistakable pressure against your ass makes your breath catch in your throat, the perfect trigger for a molten rush to spread through your veins.

You glance over your shoulder with a smirk, voice low and teasing. “Is that what I think it is, Detective?”

The smug grin spread across her face makes it clear she was waiting for your reaction, every inch of her expression dripping with satisfaction. The look only fueling the heat pooling between your thighs. Her fingers travel up your sides, leaving a trail of sparks across your skin. She grazes just beneath your breasts, her touch light but deliberate, the fabric of your dress doing little to dull the fire she ignites. 

“Behave.” she whispers, her lips brushing the shell of your ear. There’s an edge to her voice, rough and commanding. “And maybe I’ll reward you.” she continues, a low purr full of promise.

But you’re here on a mission, not to behave. Definitely not to behave.

Letting the music and her warmth embolden you, you reach back with your free hand, fingers slipping between your bodies to trace a slow, tantalizing path downward. She doesn’t stop you, if anything, she presses in closer, her breath hot against your neck.

Your movements halt for a split second as your fingertips brush the cool metal of her belt buckle, a shiver running through you at the sensation. Biting your lip, you continue your descent, fingers tracing slowly along the rigid line of her zipper, feeling the unyielding heat straining against it. When your palm finally presses against her, you can feel the hard, thick bulge beneath the fabric, and the sensation sends a surge of desire straight to your core. A low, breathless moan threatens to escape, and you barely hold it back, relishing the sensation as the need builds, leaving you aching for more.

Your fingers trail along her length teasingly, taking your time, and you feel her body tense behind you, hear the soft, low growl in her throat. She drops her forehead to your shoulder, her breath rough as you continue your movements.

You tilt your head back, allowing her see the satisfaction in your eyes, a look you know will get to her. Her breath catches as your fingers continue to tease her mercilessly. “Mmm” you hum with deliberate appreciation. “I knew you’d be… impressive.” you murmur, voice low and dripping with praise.

The effect is immediate, and exactly what you’d hoped for. Her nails dig into your waist, her restraint slipping further as a husky sigh escapes her. She presses into you and raises her head to meet your gaze, the challenge in her eyes flaring, daring you to push her further. 

You’ve always loved how, deep down, Agatha is so desperate for praise. She always had that little spark of pride that flares with each admiring touch, each appreciative word. But with Agnes, that need seems to linger closer to the surface, raw and unapologetic. In this form, she practically soaks up every word, every look of admiration you give her, like she’s reveling in the attention.

She’s holding herself back, barely, and you can feel the restraint beginning to crack, the thrill of it washing over you as she takes one grounding breath. “Keep that up…” she mutters, her tone both a warning and an invitation, “and you’ll see just how impressive I can be.”

With her words still in the air, she thrusts her hips forward, grinding firmly against your hand so you feel the full, hard length of her strap straining through the fabric of her pants. Simultaneously, one of her hands moves to your throat, fingers curling possessively around it in a strong, yet gentle, grip. Instinctively, you arch into her touch, pressing closer, wanting to feel every inch of her as she is pushing against you. The sensation sends a jolt of pleasure through you, and you can’t hold back the moan that slips from your lips. 

Her body freezes at the sound, and for a heartbeat, everything is still. Then, without a word, she grabs your hand, her grip firm and unyielding as she pulls you toward the exit. You can barely keep up with her long strides as she navigates through the bar, her silence and focus only heightening the anticipation that’s been building between you. The moment you step outside, the cool night air hits you, sharp and bracing, a stark contrast to the heat coursing through your veins.

Agnes doesn’t pause as she leads you across the dimly lit parking lot, her hold on your wrist commanding, purposeful. But just as you near the shadowy corner where her car is parked, she suddenly turns, and with a fierce intensity, she presses you against the rough brick wall of the bar. The shock of the cold surface behind you only fuels the fire inside, and before you can catch your breath, her mouth is on yours.

The kiss is raw, unrestrained, her lips claiming yours with an urgency that’s nothing short of devastating. Her tongue parts your lips, exploring with a fierce hunger that’s both intoxicating and overwhelming, each movement igniting something hotter, deeper. She moves against you with a possessive need, her hand tangling in your hair as she tilts your head back, deepening the kiss even further.

“Is this what you wanted, huh?” she mutters against your lips, voice thick and dripping with need. Her other hand moves down to grab your ass, pulling you against her, her grip rough and unapologetic. You can’t hold back the gasp that escapes you, the thrill of it leaving you breathless.

Your hands find their way to her waist, fingers digging into the fabric of her shirt as you pull her closer, every inch of her body pressed firmly against yours. She tastes like whiskey and something darker, something that only fuels your desire, making you want more, need more. 

“Teasing me like that all night… you knew exactly what you were doing.” her voice is almost a growl against your lips, her frustration and need laid bare, her words punctuated with another possessive press of her hips.

Your heart races, and you find yourself grinning through the haze of desire. “Maybe I did.” you whisper, a daring edge to your tone.

Her smirk deepens as she leans in, mouth brushing against your ear. “Good.” she breathes “Because now… you’re mine.”

The intensity of her words leaves you dizzy, every nerve lit up, aching, ready for more. She slides a leg between yours, pressing firmly against you in a way that makes your instantly whimper. The sudden pressure tugging at your last restraints, making it impossible to hold back. You pull her into a fierce, consuming kiss, your mouths crashing together, hot and unrestrained, her taste filling all of your senses.

With a deliberate move, you catch her bottom lip between your teeth, biting down just hard enough to pull a throaty moan from her. The sound makes something inside you snap, a fire igniting that feels like it’s burning you from the inside out. You let your tongue glide over the spot you just bit, slow and teasing, savoring the slight tremor that runs through her in response.

Your eyes meet hers, hooded and dark with lust, each breath mingling as you hold her gaze, refusing to look away. “I want you to ruin me.” your voice is barely a whisper against her lips, but every word is thick with hunger. You let the desire in your eyes say the rest, the intensity of your gaze leaves no room for doubt, a challenge and surrender all at once.

You watch the way her pupils dilate, her eyes flashing with something feral and ravenous. Without another word, she grabs your hand again, leading you the last few steps to her car, parked in the shadowed corner with only a few other cars nearby.

As you near the car, you instinctively move toward the passenger side, expecting her to get in and drive you to her place at speed light. But Agnes doesn’t head for the driver’s side. Instead, she stops just behind you, her presence looming as you reach for the passenger’s door handle.

“Other door, doll.” she murmurs, her voice dripping with intent. A shiver runs down your spine as the implication sinks in. You glance over your shoulder, finding her gaze steady, intense, and unmistakably clear. She’s not planning on taking you anywhere.

You release the handle, heart racing as you step to the rear door, her gaze burning into you with every move. Inside of the car, the familiar scent of leather mixed with something distinctly “her” fills the small, darkened space. Agnes follows, sliding in close beside you, shutting the door to enclose you both in a cocoon of shadows and anticipation.

The air is charged with an unspoken understanding as her hand finds your bare thigh, fingers pressing possessively as she leans close, breath warm against your cheek. There’s a pause, enough to let you savor what’s about to unfold, before she brings her mouth to yours, claiming you with the raw hunger that’s been simmering all night.

Her hand starts to move in a slow, tantalizing journey upward, fingers tracing your skin and slipping beneath the hem of your dress, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. A soft moan escapes you, muffled against her mouth as her touch becomes bolder.

As her fingers graze your inner thigh, both firm and unbearably light, a whimper slips out of your lips. She pulls back just enough, gaze momentarily dropping to where her hand is inching closer to where you need her most, her breathing heavy as she watches you unravel beneath her touch.

Each slow, deliberate movement seems meant to drive you wild, her smirk making it clear she’s relishing each shaky breath you take. Without breaking eye contact, her hand ventures further, until her fingertips reach your clothed core, brushing against the patch of wetness that is seeping through the fabric. Her touch sends a surge of pleasure through you, hips arching as you crave more. She lets out a low, pleased hum, leaning close as her mouth grazes your ear.

“You’ve been waiting for this all night, haven’t you?” she whispers, her voice dripping with mockery and satisfaction, every word laced with a condescending edge that leaves you trembling. One of your hands grips the leather seat beneath you, nails digging in as you brace yourself, as the other slips between your legs, pushing aside your panties in a bold, undeniable signal. Agnes’s gaze flickers with mischief, her lips curving in a smirk at your willingness, at the silent plea in your eyes.

“Look at you…” she murmurs in that low, almost scolding tone that makes you clench around nothing. “Such a needy pet.” Her fingers finally dip down to graze your drenched folds, now exposed to her touch. Her fingers glide up and down with ease, a deliberate slowness that leaves you panting, every movement igniting raw need within you.

“Mm, so wet for me.” she whispers to herself, pressing her fingers a little firmer, coaxing a soft moan from you. Your grip tightens on the seat as your breathing grows ragged, her touch leaving you helplessly craving more, every nerve under her control.

Her movements are teasingly, atrociously, slow. An impatient thrill rushes through you, impossible to ignore, and without a second thought you straddle her lap in one swift motion. As you settle onto her, your dress rides up around your hips, baring more skin as your legs fall on either side of hers, bracketing her firmly on the back seat. Agnes’s eyes widen in surprise, excitement unmistakable as her hands find your exposed thighs, fingers pressing into your skin as you begin to grind against her.

The angle presses her strap perfectly against your core, each movement sending a pulse of pleasure as you rock in her lap, the coil in your lower abdomen growing tighter and tighter with every roll of your hips. A low growl escapes her as she watches you take what you need, movements relentless and hungry.

Lost in the moment, you wrap your arms around her neck, pulling her into a kiss that’s messy, unrestrained, moans spilling shamelessly between your mouths. “Fuck… I need you.” you murmur, hips rolling harder in her lap, grinding with a desperate rhythm that has your heartbeat racing. You feel her cock press on your clit through her pants, and for a fleeting moment, you wonder if you might come just from this.

But Agnes has other plans.

Her hands slip from your waist, leaving you whining at the loss of contact as her fingers find the buckle of her belt. She undoes it with slow precision, followed by the button and zipper of her pants, her gaze locked with yours for the whole time, challenge flickering in her eyes as she smirks.

Her hand slips between your legs once more, sliding over your sensitive core, fingers teasing your hole as if to confirm just how ready you are for her. You bite your lip, completely unable to contain yourself. “Please.” you beg, voice low and trembling.

The smirk that crosses her face is dark, satisfied, as though she’s savoring every word, reveling in how desperate you are to have her inside of you. Desperation starts to kick in as your hand moves over hers, guiding her fingers between your folds, desperate for the friction she’s barely giving you. You grind against her hand, each movement sending sparks through your body as you cling to the delicious, aching need building inside you. Your breathing is ragged, and you can barely focus, until you catch sight of her other hand moving down to her waist.

With a fluid motion, Agnes reaches into her boxers, freeing her strap. The anticipation and the sheer intensity of the moment making your breath catch in your throat. As she draws it out, you take in every inch, noticing how it’s bigger than what Agatha would normally choose, yet not the biggest she’s ever ruined you with. But there’s something about the way she holds it, about the way it fills her hand, that has a rush of arousal pooling low in your stomach.

You swallow hard, desire flaring in your eyes as you let yourself imagine how it will feel inside of you, stretching you, abusing your needy hole. Agnes doesn’t miss your reaction, her smirk deepens, that predatory, knowing look in her eyes as she catches you staring. She shifts her hips, letting the strap press against your inner thigh, teasing you with what’s coming.

Her voice drops to a murmur, gravelly and low. “Think that pretty pussy of yours is ready to take it, doll?” she asks, tone both a tease and a command, daring you to say otherwise.

Without hesitation, you meet her gaze, biting your lip, eyes blazing with need. “Yes.” you whisper, breathless. “Fuck yes.”

A shiver runs through you as Agnes aligns herself, the tip of her cock pressing teasingly at your entrance, one of her hand resting firmly on your hip, grounding you. Slowly and deliberately, she begins to sink into you, stretching you inch by inch. A soft, breathy moan escapes you as the fullness sets in. Your fingers dig into her shoulders, clinging to her, every nerve ending lighting up with raw pleasure.

Agnes watches every reaction with a possessive gaze, clearly enjoying the way your body responds to her. She pauses, just for a second, letting you adjust. “Just like that. Mm, I wish I could feel that tight cunt wrapping around me. I bet it would feel so good.” she murmurs, voice thick with satisfaction.

And then, with an agonizing slowness, she presses further, filling you completely until there’s nowhere left to go and she’s buried deep inside. The feeling of fullness settles within you, every inch of her stretching you in a way that leaves you teetering on the edge of overwhelming pleasure. Your gaze drops instinctively to where your bodies connect, where her strap disappears into you, a sight that sends a deep, pulsing ache through your core.

But as you look down, your eyes catch on something else. The purple gemstone of your necklace, nestled against your skin, begins to glow, casting a soft, pulsing light in sync with the pounding rhythm of your heart. A slow smirk spreads across your lips, it’s almost time.

You teasingly wiggle your hips, signaling that you’re ready, craving the friction only she can provide. Agnes tightens her grip on your hips, nails digging into your skin. She meets your challenge, leaning forward just enough to capture your mouth in a deep, consuming kiss. In the heated clash of tongues and teeth, her hips begin to move, pulling back slowly before thrusting forward, filling you again.

Her pace is torturously unhurried, letting you feel every second, watching the way your face reflects each wave of pleasure. After a few measured thrusts, her hands slide down to grip your ass, fingers kneading your skin before delivering a sharp, satisfying spank that sends a shock of pleasure through you. A gasp slips from your lips but, before you know it, her hips have stilled and she’s watching you with a provocative glint in her eyes.

It dawns on you that she wants you to move, to put on a show just for her. You hesitate, breath catching, and her voice drops to a low, rough murmur as she smirks. “Come on doll, you gotta work for it. Let’s see how you bounce for me.”

Her words ignite a fresh wave of arousal and, taking a steadying breath, you start rolling your hips. You move slowly at first, savoring the stretch but it doesn’t take long before you start lifting and sinking your full weight down onto her, each movement drawing a low hum of approval from her lips.

Lost in the rhythm, you quicken your pace, each bounce bringing you down harder, making the base of the strap pressing firmly against her clit. Her hands guide you, watching you arch and take her deeper and deeper, her gaze full of admiration and raw desire. 

The car fills with the wet, needy sounds of your arousal as she fills you completely. Your breaths turn to soft, broken moans, mingling with curses spilling from your lips. “F-fuck… Aggie…” you stammer, the familiar nickname slipping out before you can catch it. “Feels so… so good.” you murmur, half-lost in the haze, voice thick with need as you ride her harder, body pressing into her with abandon.

Agnes’s eyes flash, and for a split second, you wonder if she’s even noticed the slip or if she’s choosing to ignore it, letting it pass without breaking the intensity of the moment. Her grip tightens, voice dropping to a rough whisper that sends a shiver down your spine “Good girl… you’re taking me so well.” One of her hand slides up your back, nails scratching your skin and leaving red marks under your dress. “This is exactly what you were made for, isn’t it?”

Her words ignite something deep inside of you, urging you on as pleasure builds with each movement, your head tipping forward as you release a shameless moan. Your steady, rhythmic bouncing sends waves of pleasure radiating through you, each one stronger than the last, the friction inside you maddeningly perfect. You can feel your own wetness slickening each movement and dripping down your thighs, the glide of her strap effortless as she pushes deeper, unrelenting.

Agnes is utterly captivated, her gaze darting between the raw expressions of pleasure on your face and the sight of her strap disappearing into you. She drinks in every movement, every tremble, barely able to restrain herself.

As if sensing her focus, you open your eyes. You catch her gaze and stare right into her as you bite your lip, slowly and purposefully sinking down onto her cock, daring her. And that’s all she needs.

One hand wraps firmly around your throat, grip strong and commanding, while the other moves to your hip, pressing you down on her lap. For a moment, everything is suspended, you’re pinned under her gaze as the intensity of both the pressure at your throat and the deep ache within makes you shudder, caught between pleasure and anticipation.

Then, without warning, her hips snap up, driving into you with a devastating shove that forces every ounce of breath out of your lungs. She thrusts hard and deep, filling you completely, each movement unrelenting and precise, striking that spot that has you gasping and moaning uncontrollably.

Your hands clutch at her shoulders, desperate for some anchor as she pound into you without mercy, driving you relentlessly toward the edge. Your eyes flutter shut in overwhelming pleasure, but her grip tightens on your throat, pulling you back. “Eyes on me, pet.” she growls, voice low and commanding. “You begged me to ruin you. Now, look at me while I give you exactly what you asked for.”.

You force your eyes open, and the instant they lock onto hers, her pace quickens. The smirk on her face is a mix of dominance and admiration as she keeps pushing you further with every movement. The feeling is all-consuming and, as she continues, you feel yourself surrender completely, helpless under her control, barely holding on as pleasure engulfs you.

Her hips are snapping forward with an intensity bordering on devastating, her feet planted firmly on the car floor, adding force to each thrust. Her hand finds its way between your legs once more, fingers moving in practiced circles over your sensitive clit, coaxing you to the brink.

The purple stone around your neck pulses brighter as your orgasm builds, filling the car with an otherworldly glow that syncs with the rhythm of Agnes’s relentless movements. 

“Mmm, I missed this… I missed you.” the confession slips out you in a raw whisper. For a second, Agnes’ expression falters, something flickering in her eyes that seems to recognize the truth. Before she can react, the light from the stone intensifies, flooding the space between you with a bright, shimmering glow. Her gaze drops to the gemstone blazing against your skin, entranced as though the light itself is unraveling something within her.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, you seize the moment and murmur the spell.

Ancient Latin words leave your lips like a quiet chant, each syllable carrying the force of longing and magic, woven with the raw passion building between you. The words wrap around you both, charging the moment, and as the final word slips from your mouth, she gasps like someone just knocked all the air out of her lungs. Agnes’s eyes meet yours, and in that instant, you know the veil has been lifted.

Agnes is gone and Agatha, your Agatha, is back. The full force of who she is, and who you are to her, rushes back all at once. For a moment, Agatha simply stares at you, the love of her life who broke her from that maddening spell… on her lap, strap buried deep inside you. The sight renders her speechless, her expression a mix of wonder and fierce devotion as she processes what’s happened.

Finally, her voice returns, smug and rough yet laden with emotion. “So, this is your idea of a rescue mission? Can’t say I mind, sweetheart.” She leans in, breath ghosting over your lips as her fingers trace your cheek, gaze softening though hunger remains.

You suppress a moan as her hips shift involuntarily, pushing deeper, and she gasps, realizing the full impact of the spell being lifted. She can feel you now, all of you. Every slick, heated movement as she fills you, every pulse of pleasure passing through you both in sync. The raw feeling of you, tight and warm, clenching around her cock, sends sudden jolts of pleasure through her. The boundary between you dissolved completely.

“Fuck… I can feel you again.” she murmurs, voice thick with awe and desire. Her voice drops, thick with satisfaction and yearning. “I’ve waited too long for this, and now… now you’re all mine again.”

Her breath catches, and her hands tighten on your hips, guiding you as she thrusts up with renewed purpose, as if proving to herself that this moment is real, savoring every second of this reconnection. Her eyes glint with pleasure as her nails dig into your skin, pulling you down harder with each thrust, her control slipping as she begins to feel herself approaching her own edge.

A ragged growl escapes her as she whispers against your ear, “You’re still so damn tight, sweetheart. Do you know what you’re doing to me?” Her breath shudders, and a smile plays on her lips as she admits, “I’m already close too… After all this time, I don’t think I can hold back.”

The rhythm between you intensifies as her hands roam over your body, holding you close as she loses herself in the feeling of being truly connected again. You’re nothing short of a moaning mess as her voice guides you closer to the edge with her, whispered praise and promises mingling with the tension building in both of you, pushing you both to the brink.

Agatha is fucking you at an unforgiving rhythm, the intensity blurring everything else. Her gaze never leaves you, watching you come undone as you both reach the edge, every sensation building to a breathtaking crescendo.

Soon, her rhythm turns erratic, her restraint fully unraveled. Her eyes bore into yours, dark and fierce, filled with desire and something deeper—a yearning that transcends this moment alone.

“Mm fuck baby… yes, just like that…” she murmurs, breathless, almost reverent.

Your thighs start to shake, each movement pushing you closer, and you can barely form words as the pleasure tightens, an unbearable ache. “Ah fuck Agatha… d-don’t stop.” you gasp, voice trembling. “Fuck fuck fuck…” you stammer with each of her relentless thrusts until your voice breaks, overcome by waves of sensation crashing through you.

The car is filled by the sound of your low, breathy moans, mixing with Agatha’s rough, primal groans, all blending together as her hands slide up your back, possessive, grounding, bracing you for what’s to come.

You’re so close, and you know she is right there with you, her body tensing as she growls, “Come with me, now.” Her voice thick, dripping with desire, her words pushing you over the edge.

Your body arches instinctively as you shudder, every nerve aflame as waves of pleasure wash over you. Your head tips back, unable to hold back the cries escaping your lips. Your thighs twitch uncontrollably, your hips moving wildly on Agatha’s lap as your walls clench around her cock, releasing all that built-up tension in one of the most powerful orgasms you’ve ever experienced.

Agatha’s hips snap up one last time, her breath catching as she reaches her own release, her hands pressing you close as she gasps. “Mine… all mine…” her words, raw and filled with emotion, resonate through you, pulling you even deeper into the moment.

Your bodies tremble together, chests heaving, hearts racing as you slowly come down from your high. She holds you there, her hand sliding up to cradle your face, her eyes softer but still burning as she meets your gaze. For a long moment, neither of you speaks, savoring the afterglow, feeling completely and utterly entwined.

Slowly, she leans in, capturing your lips in a deep, lingering kiss, one that holds all the love and longing she’s felt, buried beneath the spell, and everything you’ve both been waiting to express. Her mouth moves over yours with fervor, a silent promise in every brush of her lips. 

A tear rolls down your cheek as emotions overwhelm you, but Agatha notices, her thumb gently wiping it away as she smiles against your lips. Her expression is soft and filled with gratitude as she holds you close, her hands tracing over your skin as if trying to commit every inch of you to her memory.

“Thank you, my love.” she whispers, voice thick with feelings. Her hand cradles the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair as she finally, reluctantly, begins to pull out. The sudden emptiness leaves you gasping softly, a shiver running through you at the loss, but before you can fully react you’re wrapping your arms around her, holding her close, grounding yourself in her warmth and presence.

Agatha’s hand slides down your back, comforting, reassuring. She presses a soft kiss to your temple, murmuring “It’s okay. I’m here now.” She pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, her features gentle yet fiercely protective. “Let’s go home.” she says, her tone pure tenderness “I won’t ever let anything take me away from you again, I promise.”.

She holds you close for one last intimate moment, while her words linger, solid and true. With a soft smile, she shifts and tucks away her strap before buttoning up her pants and fastening her belt, her eyes never leaving yours, filled with affection and satisfaction.

Once she’s ready she turns toward you, her hands moving to adjust your dress, her touch both careful and intimate as she smooths the fabric sliding it back into place around your waist and hips. Her hands linger, brushing along your sides in a way that makes your heart flutter.

Agatha opens the car door, stepping out first, leaning back to help you out of the car. She guides you with a steady hand as she opens the passenger door and, once you’re settled in the seat, she closes the door gently, making her way around the car and slipping into the driver’s seat beside you.

Agatha reaches over, her hand resting on your thigh as she leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. With a final squeeze of your thigh, she starts the car, guiding you both into the night. In the quiet space between you, there’s a shared understanding that this is the beginning of a new chapter, together, with nothing left to keep you apart.

[ace-of-bass]

Also: Building community is not just an outreach tool. It is a tool of keeping ourselves safe and keeping resources available to all. Offering things on social media like rides to abortion clinics, or diy hrt, or anything else that is perhaps not-totally-legal in all places, is not a great strategy. For one, you shouldn't trust strangers on the internet with information that sensitive, so those you are offering those services to would do well not to trust you. If you want to meaningfully contribute to providing things such as the above, or even more legal-but-logistically-complex things like feeding a large number of people, handing out narcan, etc, you need to organize in person. How do you organize in person? By meeting people in person, aka building community.

If this is your goal, you can start with people who are very similar to you! You don't have to start by reaching out to Alt Right David or even Annoying Uncle Bill - you can start by going to a local show or a group that meets at the library or hanging out with your D&D group when you're not actively playing D&D. Then, you have friends that you can rely on to take care of you, and who you might be able to plan some cool mutual aid shit with. I've been working on building community for awhile, at first not intentionally and lately very intentionally, and here's how I met the group of friends I started a monthly free store with:

1. Met Friend A at a choir thing since I like to sing and was looking for friends after moving somewhere new. Friend A ultimately left choir but we stayed friends, and at one point I told Friend A I'm ace.

2. Friend A said, "oh you'd love my friend B, who's also ace! She's doing a comedy show, let's go see her perform together and then you can meet her!"

3. Friend B and I become friends, and start a local peer support group for aspec people, based mostly on Friend B's existing communities and our sheer determination.

4. Fast forward a year and a half, Friend C comes to our aspec peer support group and I become friends with her.

5. Friend C and I are talking about activism, and Friend C says a lot of the things I'm interested in aligns with what Friend D has talked to her about. Friend C introduces me to Friend D.

6. Independently, I have been building a community space on my street, in the rough neighborhood of where Friend C, Friend D, and I live.

7. Friend D and I want to create a solarpunk future but decide to start small. Friend D ropes in several of his friends, one of whom I happen to know from the community space mentioned in 6.

8. This group of friends runs a free store once a month in the community space, open for all to donate to and all to attend. As we find out about others who are doing/want to do similar things, we try to join forces. In this way we've expanded from just a free store to a free store + clothing swap, and we're only on our third time hosting it.

All of these friends are lefty, and all of them are queer in some way or another. The free store friends are explicitly anarchist, like me. I think OP's point is useful for deradicalization and for growing the movement, but if you are alone and you are scared, encouragement to build community is just as much about finding your people in person as it is about forming coalitions with those different in you.

Another important note is that finding people like you should be a starting point, not an ending point. The goal of this is not to find friends, though that's a good start. The goal is to build dual power, which is done by working together with others and having open doors to join the movement. Once you've found some friends or communities, work to ensure that they are open to all, that you are reaching the people who most need the work you are doing, and that you are not simply making yourself feel good or just having a good time with your friends.

Activism is not cold-calling.

Activism is not cold-calling, and this is critically important to understand.

I'm seeing a lot of posts on here about 'building bridges' and 'finding community,' and then (extremely valid) response posts saying "BUT HOW??" And I'm going to explain something that can be very counter-intuitive: there is strategy involved in community.

As a longtime volunteer labour organizer, I’ve taken and taught many trainings on the strategy of talking. Something that surprises a lot of people is the very first thing you do in a union campaign. You sit down with your organizing committee, take out pen and paper, and literally map it out. You draw a physical map of the workplace: where are the entrances, exits, break rooms, supervisor offices. Essentially, ‘where is it safe to have a union conversation.’ Then you draw another physical chart of your coworkers. You sort out who is union-friendly, openly hostile to unions, or somewhere in the middle, and then you plan out very deliberately and carefully who talks to whom and in what order.

Consider: If Vocally Leftist Jane walks up to Conservative David and says "hey what do you think about unions," David is going to shut down immediately. He's not inclined to listen to Jane. But if Jane talks to Moderate Jason and brings him into the fold, then Jason is a far more effective strategic choice to talk to David, and David may actually hear him out without an instant reaction.

IMPORTANT CAVEAT: If Conservative David turns out to be Alt-Right David, and could be dangerous to follow organizers, we write him off. We are not trying to reach Alt-Right David. We are trying to reach Conservative David, who may actually be persuaded to find solidarity with other employees as fellow workers. Jason is a safe scout to find out which one he is. It does no one any good if Leftist Jane (or even Moderate Jane who is a visible minority) talks to Alt-Right David and puts herself on his radar. Not only has she done nothing to convince Alt-Right David to join a union - she's probably actively turned him against the idea - but now she's also in danger and the entire campaign is at risk. NOBODY WANTS THIS. Jane was NOT a hero for doing this. The organizing committee was foolish and enacted a terrible strategy to everyone's detriment.

Where you can make a difference is with people who will listen to you. You having a conversation with your well-meaning but clueless Centrist Democrat Auntie, and maybe gently helping her understand some things the media has been glossing over, is way more strategically useful than you marching up to MAGA Neighbour You've Met Once and trying to "build community" or "understand" them. They don't care. They're impervious, dangerous, and cruel. But maybe your beloved auntie will think about what you said, and then talk to her friend Anna who IDs as "fiscally conservative" but didn't vote because she can't bring herself to get on board with Trump. Then perhaps Anna talks to her brother Nic who has MAGA leanings but isn't all the way there yet. Proto-MAGA Nic would not have listened to you, nor would he have listened to Centrist Democrat Auntie, but he might absorb some of what his sister is saying.

This is not a cop-out or an echo chamber. This is you spending your time and energy strategically and safely. You are not a useful activist to anyone if you’re dead. Anyone who is telling you to hurl yourself directly at MAGA assholes like cannon fodder has no understanding of the strategy behind community building, and you should feel comfortable writing them off.

Last point: If you are tired, emotionally devastated, and/or in danger: take a break. This post is for people who would feel better jumping into action, not for people who are too overwhelmed to even think about it right now. You are worth so much even if you’re not actively Doing Activism, and your rest is worth more than “a break period so you can recharge and Do More Activism.” We all deserve the individual dignity of being worthy of comfort, rest & safety just on the basis of being human, outside of whatever we're doing for others' benefit. To deny ourselves that dignity is to devalue ourselves, and that’s the absolute last thing any of us should be doing right now.

[cressidagrey]

It's a Love Story - Chapter 5

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible.

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

“Where’s Az?” Mor asked as Nesta and Cassian entered the dining room at the River House.

“Busy,” Cassian said with a shrug, as he pulled out the chair for his mate, greeting the rest of their family with a smile. 

Mor cocked her head, a small frown appearing on her face. "Busy?" she repeated, a note of curiosity in her voice. "What's he up to?"

Busy. That had been Azriel’s answer to nearly everything after Koshei. Busy.

Even quieter than usual. Keeping away from all of them…and Cassian still heard that one sentence echo in his head. Better me than you. Like somehow Cassians life was worth more than Azriel’s.

Azriel was just being noble and self-sacrificing as usual, right? Cassian knew that his brother didn't really think that way, didn't really believe that his life was worth less than anyone else's. But still, the words haunted him. He couldn't shake the feeling that somehow, somewhere, he had let Azriel down. That he hadn't been there when his brother had needed him the most.

Maybe he should have tried to talk to him...when it all went down… but then he hadn't realised what exactly was even going on, until Nesta had flatly laid it out for him one evening. Azriel had gotten over Mor only to fall in love with Elain...and that hadn't ended in his favour either.

Cassian grimaced just thinking about it. Azriel deserved to be happy. Azriel deserved a mate that loved him, a female that fucking adored him…and instead his brother had fallen not just for one, but two unavailable females. 

And Azriel hadn’t complained. Not once. He had never let it show.

He always kept his emotions hidden under that stoic mask of his, like he was afraid of letting anyone see how much he was hurting. Cassian knew that Azriel would never ask for help, that he would never admit that he needed someone to talk to. But that didn't mean that he didn't need it. 

Cassian just wished that he could find a way to get Azriel to open up, to let him in…that wouldn’t involve beating him to a bloody pulp. 

Azriel acted like everything was fine. Azriel acted like he didn't care. Cassian knew that it was a mask, knew that it wasn't the truth...but Azriel liked to pretend it was...and maybe it was better to let him pretend. 

It wasn't like he was hurting anybody with it, right? He was doing his work just as well as he always did...and if he wanted to spend his free time reading Sellyn Drake books, maybe they should just let him do that…maybe it made him feel better. 

"Maybe he's seeing his secret girlfriend," Cassian drawled.

Mor snorted at that suggestion. "Please," she said with a roll of her eyes. "As if Azriel would ever have time for a girlfriend, let alone a secret one."

"You would be surprised," Cassian muttered under his breath. Apparently Azriel had time for reading Sellyn Drake novels while locked into his room, after all. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mor wondered. "He has been...distant lately," she said with a pout.

Cassian could only stare at her. Mor couldn't be serious right now, could she?

Of course, Azriel was distant to her. Mor had fucking broken his heart and trampled on it to top it off. And Cassian had helped her with through the years. He probably owed Azriel an apology for that as well.

And still, Azriel hadn’t complained. Azriel hadn’t called them out. Azriel had taken it silently. Had even congratulated Mor when her Mating Bond with Emerie had snapped. Had been painfully polite, making painfully sure that he didn’t cross any lines, didn’t make Emerie uncomfortable in any way. 

"Just leave him be," Cassian said with a shrug. "He's reading Sellyn Drake novels, he'll be fine,” he waved her off. 

Rhys nearly spit his wine over the table and instead started coughing violently. "Azriel is reading Sellyn Drake novels?!" he asked Cassian with an incredious stare.

"Apparently he has trust in Nesta's taste of literature," Cassian answered easily.

Mor raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Sellyn Drake novels?" she repeated, eyeing Cassian like he had gone mad. "Since when does Azriel read those kinds of books? He's not exactly the...romantic type."

Or maybe there just never had been a single person that had appreciated that side of his brother. Who knew what Azriel actually was into. 

Elain and Mor weren’t similar in the slightest after all. 

Cassian shrugged. "Maybe he's expanding his horizons," he said with a grin. "Or maybe he just wants to see what the fuss is all about. After all, Sellyn Drake is...surprisingly good. Or so I've heard, anyway." He gave a sidelong glance to Nesta, who simply rolled her eyes at him.

Still, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rhys play absentmindedly with the stem of the wine glass. There was something there...between Rhys and Azriel that Cassian couldn't quite put his finger on. Some kind of tension...some kind of...something.

But lately, it had seemed like that tension had only been getting worse. Like they were both holding something back, like they were both waiting for the other shoe to drop. Cassian couldn't help wondering what would happen when that tension finally snapped.

***

"Winnowing or flying?" Azriel asked Sky as they stepped out into the icy early winter air.

"I...I can't...fly?" Sky answered haltingly, looking at him with these devastating blue eyes. They were beautiful. Not a light blue, not a teal, not bordering on violet…just beautiful near cobalt blue. She probably would match his siphons, he reflected weakly. 

"I'll fly, I'll carry you," he gave back with a chuckle. She stared at him like he was insane, her cheeks reddening.

"I...I...you...can...can't carry me. I am too...heavy," she mumbled. Now it was his turn to stare at her.

Azriel couldn't help but scoff at that. "Too heavy?" he repeated, shaking his head in disbelief. "I'm an Illyrian warrior,” he told her drily. “I could carry a full-grown male into battle if I had to,and I have dragged full-grown males off the battlefield…I can carry you.” 

Azriel couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. Was she...was she seriously trying to tell him that she was too heavy for him to carry? She just so reached the middle of his chest! She definitely wasn't thin...her body was covered with soft flesh and lush curves, every inch of it soft and inviting...but even if she weighed twice her weight, he would easily be able to carry her. She would probably weigh next to nothing to him.

And yet, he could sense the insecurity in her voice, the way she didn't quite believe that he could carry her.

He stepped closer to her, placing his hand gently under her chin and tilting her head up so that she was looking directly into his eyes. "You are beautiful," he said softly, his voice full of warmth and sincerity. "And I don't care how much you weigh, I can carry you. I want to carry you. Because you are mine and I will always protect you, no matter what."

Her breath hitched at that, and he could see the warmth spreading through her cheeks as her heart began to race. She looked up at him with those stunning blue eyes of hers, her lips parted slightly in surprise and wonder. "You...you really mean that?" she whispered, her voice soft and shaky. "You...you don't mind how big I am?"

Azriel chuckled softly, shaking his head. "No, sweetheart, I don't mind," he said gently. "I think you are absolutely perfect just the way you are. And if I have to carry you to prove it, then that is what I will do." And without another word, he scooped her up into his arms, cradling her against his chest as easily.

She squeaked as they shot up in the sky and then she laughed, the sound bright and beautiful

They soared through the sky together, the wind blowing through their hair and clothes as they flew. The City of Starlight sprawled out beneath them, a beautiful tapestry of color and light. Azriel held her close, feeling the warmth of her body against his, the sound of her heartbeat pulsing in rhythm with his own. He knew that he could never tire of this feeling, of having her in his arms like this.

Sky looked up at him with a smile, her eyes shining with happiness and excitement. "I love this," she breathed.

How very fitting it was for the female that called herself Sky to love flying.

"Good," Azriel said softly, his voice full of warmth. "Because we can do this anytime you want, sweetheart."

They soared higher and higher, until the city below them was nothing but a sparkling sea of lights. Azriel was in his element up here, his wings powerful and graceful as they sliced through the air. He could feel the wind whipping through his hair, the cold night air stinging his skin. But he didn't mind, not with her in his arms. In fact, he felt more alive than he had in months. Years, even.

He flew a loping circle over Velaris, towards the Lake House the shadows had purchased and he thanked them mentally for their foresight. He couldn't very well bring Sky home to the House of Wind...but here...he could take her. It was private and safe...and if the expression of her face was anything to go by, she loved it.

He angled his body towards the Lake House, gliding towards it with expert precision. As they approached, Azriel saw the soft glow of the lights in the windows, the gentle sway of the curtains in the breeze. The lake glittered in the moonlight, the surface of the water undisturbed and serene. It was the perfect place to bring her, a place that he felt she would love just as much as he did.

"You live here?" she wondered, wonder in her voice as she took in the sight.

Azriel felt a warm swell of pride in his chest as he landed smoothly on the deck of the house. "Yes," he said simply, his eyes fixed on her face, watching as she marveled at the house. "I wanted a private place," he admitted. "Somewhere quiet and peaceful, where I could escape from the chaos of my life for a little while.I haven't been there long though, it’s still a work in progress…" he warned her. More like 2 hours before he had met her. "But I love it."

He set her down gently, his hands lingering on her waist for a moment before he stepped back. "Come on," he said softly, holding out his hand to her. "Let me show you inside."

The shadows skittered inside as soon as he opened the door, like a bunch of little busybodies, rightening the curtains there, fluffing pillows on the couch...It seemed to amuse Sky though. "You must ne...never have to deal with a mes...messy kitchen," she teased him

Azriel chuckled at that. "No, the shadows don't like when things are out of place,”  he admitted.

It wasn't a lie. But then he didn't like it either. 

Like a moth pulled to the flame, Sky was pulled towards his bookcases, fingertips tripping over the spines as she hungrily read the titles.

Azriel suddenly hoped that the shadows had put something other than Sellyn Drake novels in the bookcase, because otherwise he was going to look like a fucking stalker.

He watched with a mix of amusement and apprehension as she examined the bookshelves, his heart pounding in his chest. *Please,* he silently pleaded to the shadows, *please tell me you didn't leave those Sellyn Drake novels on the shelf.* Because if she saw those, it would be disastrous.

The shadows seemed weirdly frozen in place.

"You read Sel...Sellyn Drake?" Sky asked him, sounding delighted and shocked at the same time.

Azriel groaned inwardly, feeling his face flush with embarrassment. "I...yes, I do," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I...There is...I...I need to tell you something."

"Te...Tell me som...something?" Sky asked, turning towards him, these big beautiful eyes staring at him.

"I...It wasn't a coincidence that I was in that bar tonight," he told her, watching as she stared at him. "The shadows told me to go."

"The...The shad...shadows?" she asked him, looking utterly shocked.

"I...I told them...a few weeks ago...to...find me somebody that....that I could love...somebody that I could make happy. A wife," Azriel admitted. "You were the one they picked."

She stared at him, her mouth falling open slightly. Azriel braced himself for her reaction, not sure what to expect. Would she be angry? Scandalized? Horrified that he had sent his shadows to find him a wife?

She stared at him wide-eyed. "You...You as…asked yo…your sha..shadows to fi…find you a wi…wife?!" she asked him, repeating his words back at him.

He could feel his cheeks reddening but nodded nonetheless. "...are you angry?" he asked her weakly.

Sky stared at him for a moment, but then she shook her head. "No, No...no, I'm not," she repeated again, her voice trembling slightly. "I'm...I'm flat…flattered, actually...Though...though I am cu..curious what it…what it was about me that...made…made them pick me," she admitted.

For the first time in his life, his shadows talked to somebody other than Azriel. *We thought you would treat Master like you treat your cat,* the shadows told her brightly.

She blinked at the bunch of shadows that had gathered in front of her.

"You...You...You want me to...treat Az..Azriel like...like a cat?" she asked them incrediously.

Azriel spluttered, his cheeks burning with mortification. He hadn't expected the shadows to be so blunt, and the idea of her treating him like a cat was...well, it was absurd, to say the least. He wanted her to be his mate, his equal, not to treat him as if he were some kind of pet.

"No, no," he quickly interjected, trying to salvage the situation. "They...they don't mean it like that, Sky. The shadows have their own...unique way of looking at things. Please just...just forget they ever said that."

Sky fixed him with a look. "What do you mean?" she asked the shadows.

*You love your cat,* the shadows said quickly. *You buy him ridiculous overpriced Tuna, and you let him sleep in your bed and you scratch him behind the ears. You even knitted him a sweater!*

Azriel winced, feeling his embarrassment and mortification rising even further. 

"That...thats not important," he mumbled, feeling like he was on the verge of spontaneously combusting from embarrassment. "The shadows...they have a habit of exaggerating things. Just...please, don't take them too seriously. I'm not expecting you to treat me like a cat, I swear."

Sky looked at him, then at the Shadows, then at Azriel again. She seemed to be lost in thought, clearly trying to decipher what the shadows meant.

"You..You want your mas…master to be tre…treated...well?" Sky finally asked the shadows, her tone of voice serious. "You pick…picked me because I...be..because I was nice to my cat?" she asked them curiously.

*You are so kind,* the shadows said softly. And so pretty. And we knew you would treat Master well and wouldn't judge him.*

Sky blushed at the compliment.

Azriel felt a sense of relief wash over him as the conversation shifted away from the whole "cat" thing. He had to admit, the shadows were right. Sky had been nothing but kind and considerate towards him since they met, and he was grateful for that. Still, he couldn't help but feel a bit embarrassed by the whole situation.

"Look...I apologize for the shadows' behavior," he said to Sky, his voice soft. "They can be a bit...blunt, sometimes."

"I…I un…understand where they are com…coming from," she said nearly thoughtfully. "They just...want to see you hap…happy?" she said carefully and he nodded.

"Yes."

"Though they…they don't seem to have much of a sense of boun…boundaries," Sky said with a laugh. "You hid in my apartment didn't you?" she asked the shadows.

Azriel cringed as the shadows seemed to twirl in agreement. He had hoped that particular detail would have gone unnoticed, but he should have known better. Sky was too observant for her own good.

"Yes, they did," he admitted reluctantly. "I'm sorry about that. They...they have a tendency to go where they please."

Sky still mustered the shadows that were twitching in front of her

"I…I prom…promise to t…treat your ma…master well." Sky said seriously. "He's my mate."

Azriel felt his heart skip a beat at her words. The sound of that word coming from her lips made his knees weak.

He stepped forward, closing the distance between them and taking her hands in his. "And I promise to treat you well too," he swore fervently. 

"And I'll…I’ll even knit him a swea…sweater," Sky continued, looking at the shadows.. "I…I don't know if he likes Tu…tuna, but I'll…buy him some… sweets."

He couldn’t help but laugh at her words, feeling a surge of affection for her that was almost overwhelming. "Sky," he said softly, looking into her eyes. "You don't have to do any of that for me. Just being with you is more than I could ever ask for.But...if you are willing to knit me a sweater, I surely won't say no to it," he added with a laugh. "And maybe you could try scratching me behind the ears too, just in case the shadows are right."

He meant it as a joke, but there was a part of him that was secretly delighted by the idea of her spoiling and doting on him. Maybe, just maybe, the shadows were onto something after all.

"And...who knows, maybe I'll develop a taste for Tuna," he added, grinning playfully. "As long as it's the fancy kind, that is."

He kissed her forehead gently, holding her close for a moment longer before finally pulling away. "But Sky…you don’t have to do all of that…Just being with you is enough."

She smiled up at him, beautiful and blinding and he couldn't help but kiss her.

As his lips met hers, Azriel felt a wave of warmth and tenderness wash over him. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as he deepened the kiss. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the shadows, not the world outside, nothing but her.

He broke the kiss reluctantly, resting his forehead against hers as he caught his breath. 

"You…You can absolutely sleep in my bed with me," she whispered. "Or I'll sleep in yours," she offered, a grin on her face... and that was all he needed to hear, as he picked her up again.

[nanenna]

Meeting the Mayor

Sleepy King Master Post

Mayor Masters had left their little group waiting for far too long. It was clearly a power move, something Batman expected of someone like Lex Luthor, not the mayor of a small town that had been all but swallowed up by the nearby larger city. It was so predictable that he even started a mental countdown on when they would be allowed to meet Masters. He was, of course, right.

On entering the mayor’s office, Masters was sitting behind his desk, an oily smile spread across his face. He didn’t even stand to greet them. “Good afternoon, it’s not every day…” Masters trailed off as his face scrunched up. “Strawberry shortcake! Did some youths play a prank on you?”

Batman glanced briefly towards his fellow League members, they looked just as confused as he was. Diana squared her shoulders, “What do you mean?”

“You don’t…” Masters frowned as he looked them over, “Nevermind, my mistake. What did you want to discuss?” The man smiled brightly as he leaned over and pressed a button on a small desk fan, the blades whirred to life.

Diana smiled just as brightly and just as fakely as she sat down in front of his desk. “We’re here to make sure you’re aware of the resources the Justice League has made available to any municipal body.”

Constantine took his cue and lounged in the chair next to Diana while Batman chose to loom over her shoulder.

“Resources?” Masters asked with a raised brow.

“Yes, we understand that attacks on a “super villain” level can leave a lot of collateral damage that smaller cities may struggle to repair, especially those that haven’t had to deal with such things before. The Justice League provides aid to anyone who applies.”

“Ah, how generous!” Masters gave a smile that made Batman’s skin crawl. “But I’m sure even you have limited funds, would not they be better left to those truly in need? As you’ve seen, our little town is doing just fine without your help.”

“And how is that?” Batman asked. “There’ve been reports of numerous attacks over the last two years, where is Amity Park getting the resources to repair the damage?”

“Believe it or not, ghosts are incorporeal and thus don’t cause as much collateral damage. Also, the appearance of ghosts has caused a spike in tourists, which has been quite the boost to our economy. And lastly, as the mayor is it not my civic duty to support my town, which I love so dearly? Of course I’ve been supplementing Amity’s budget, and I’ve been making sure to hire only local businesses to keep Amity Park’s money inside Amity Park.”

Batman narrowed his eyes. He chose not to mention that Vlad had only moved to Amity Park shortly before running for mayor, or that he had bought and combined a few local construction companies and has been using them exclusively. Certainly everything about the man was suspicious, but that wasn’t what they were here to talk about. Instead he pulled several pamphlets from his utility belt. “While you’ve been lucky so far, it would be in your best interests to be fully aware of the resources available to you and your fine town in case something larger scale happens.” Not that it hadn’t already, he couldn’t imagine anything larger scale than the entire town and neighboring city getting pulled into another dimension by an undead tyrant king.

While Batman and Diana painstakingly went over the pamphlets with Masters, who’s smile wilted more and more the longer they took, Constantine kept muttering under his breath and making motions with his hands where Masters couldn’t see them, staring intensely at the mayor the whole time. Batman was curious what he was seeing.

The wall suddenly burst, small bits of plaster and wood showering over Masters and the cape Batman had used to shield himself and his fellow League members.

“Vladdie!” A familiar voice called boisterously, “You won’t believe what happened! Oh, I didn’t know you had guests.”

Masters was brushing debris from his person as he spoke with clear disdain, “Yes, well, if you would use the door as. I’ve. Asked! Numerous time. This whole situation could be avoided.”

“Hello again,” Dr. Jack Fenton said cheerfully with a little wave. “What are you doing visiting Vladdie?”

“We were just ensuring Mayor Masters was aware of all the JL resources available to him,” Batman said as he let his cap fall back around his body.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Diana said brightly. “We also have support available for minors doing hero work, you wouldn’t happen to be able to get in contact with Phantom, would you?”

Dr. Madeline Fenton, along with both their children, approached as Diana asked her question. Masters’s eyes trailed over to the group before focusing back on the League members. “No, I’m afraid not. He’s a ghost, you know. Likely he spends most of his time in the Ghost Zone, only comes here to play around with his ghost friends and cause collateral damage.”

“Hey!” Danny said indignantly. “Phantom is a hero who’s working really hard to keep the town safe!”

“Yes yes,” Masters said while waving his hand at the family. “I know you and all your little friends think Phantom hung the moon and stars. Wait, shouldn’t you two be at school?”

“There was an incident,” Jack said proudly.

Masters sighed, “It wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with these fine people, would it?” He waved at the League members as he spoke.

“Good guess, Vladdie!”

“I thought so.” Masters swept the pamphlets into his desk drawer. “Well thank you very much for your concern, I shall make sure to keep these in case we ever do need assistance. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to contact someone about repairing my wall. Have a lovely day.” Masters stood and simply walked through the busted wall with the Fenton family.

Batman watched them leave through narrowed eyes.

“Not the oddest town I’ve been in,” Diana remarked thoughtfully.

Batman simply turned to look in Constantine’s direction.

“The mayor is also dead as a doornail, but fully alive.”

“He also clearly smelled your demon blood,” Batman added.

Constantine nodded. “I'm getting all kinds of odd readings off the mayor, no I'm not explaining it. Just know he's weird, but still not as weird as the kid, though he's close."

"Should we not follow them?" Diana asked.

"I put trackers and bugs on all of them," Batman replied.

"'Course you did, mate."

[auclairedetoru]

More of this.

"y/n ?”

Sukuna calls out for his roommate. They're currently lounging in the living room, each one doing their own thing. This is typical for them, especially after dinner since they both eat earlier than most people. One would be watching something on TV and the other would be reading or on their phone, occasionally talking but for the most part they sit in comfortable silence.

“Yes, Kuna?”

He holds back from grinning at the new nickname she gave him. Surprisingly, no one in Sukuna's life has ever called him that, but he quite likes it, especially since it came from her.

“Gojo's hosting a party at his and Suguru's place and they're inviting you. Do you wanna go together?”

She didn't hesitate to agree but warned him that it's her first time going to a college party and she might cling to him the whole time they're there because she's probably not going to know a lot of people. He promises her that he will not separate from her and that she'll have a great time, and he offers her solutions for when she gets overwhelmed, which she appreciates greatly.

Sukuna's excited for her to be at the party. He'll get to show her off, have fun with her and his friends, and most importantly, protect her from any unwanted attention. He wants to show that he's strong and capable of protecting her when needed. For what reason? Well, he hasn't figured that part out yet, but he knows for sure that he wants to do that.

Yeah... He definitely doesn't know the reason.

Things are not going as planned for Sukuna... For the most part anyways.

His roommate is having a blast. Satoru and Suguru are amazing hosts because they provided everything for her to be comfortable. Satoru offered her his room in case it all got too much for her and she needs a break, Suguru went out and got her non-alcoholic drinks in the middle of the party because she told him she doesn't drink. All three of them are trying their best to include her in conversations and games so she wouldn't feel pushed aside.

Thankfully, all their efforts are working. She has told them she's having a lot of fun multiple times. No one has bothered her yet, something Sukuna didn't expect because she gets hit on every time they're out together, and don't get him started on the amount of men that approach her at the gym asking for her number.

What he also didn't expect was for him to be hit on. It never usually happens, people are way too intimidated by him. The only time he gets flirted with is at a bar when they're both drunk. But this time, it's different.

If he's honest, he's getting quite annoyed. This girl wouldn't leave him alone. He's been trying to reject her gently all night long, but she seems to not understand what he's trying to say.

At first, she sent her friend who asked him if he was single, he gave them a simple "yes and not looking." answer before going back to playing beer pong.

Then, she approached him herself, talking about "sorry about my friend haha, they're crazy!". He knows that it's all bullshit, he saw them talking to each other in the corner of the room before each one talked to him. He sent her a forced smile and didn't say a word to her but she still wouldn't leave him alone.

And even now, as he sits in a circle with some of the people at the party playing an intense game of Uno, in which she is not participating, she's still trying to squeeze between him and the person to his right, telling him what cards to play and acting like they're a team against everyone else.

He doesn't want to be mean or rude and snap at her, people are just figuring out that he's not an asshole like his looks might give off, but god is it hard to hold back. He wants to tell her to fuck off and that he's not - and will not be - interested in her, but he can't and it's making him even more annoyed.

Y/n on his left has started noticing his annoyed huffs and how he's scooting closer and closer to her every time she hears that girl talk. One quick glance at his face and body language told her everything she needs to know.

Oh how the turn tables... Or whatever the saying is, because Sukuna's plans are about to flip around.

“hey, girl in the sequin top,” y/n calls out just as her turn started, making everyone look at her and the girl breathing down his neck, “can't you get a hint? You're clearly making him uncomfortable.”

The girl huffs and looks y/n up and down, as if she's trying to intimidate her but clearly it didn't work, “who are you to say whether he's uncomfortable or not? He can speak for himself, right Suki?” her voice becomes sickly sweet at the end, almost squeaking in his ear. He wants to vomit at that ugly nickname coming out of her mouth. He doesn't like it, in fact, it's the worst thing he has ever been called, and people have called him way worse offensive things.

He's about to speak up, but y/n quickly (and without realising) interprets him, “Are you dumb on purpose? He's about to sit on my lap trying to get away from you,” she mentions to the nonexisting empty space between them, “you're annoying everyone, leave before you embarrass yourself further.”

The girl scoffs and rises to her feet, her gaze sharpens with a glare as she places a hand on her hip, “if you're looking for a fight then bring it on now!” she declares, her voice laced with almost too much confidence.

Without any hesitation, y/n shrugs off her jacket and rises to her full height. It's clear as day who would win if things got physical. Sequin top girl is shorter than her, even in heels, and it’s obvious that y/n has spent far more time with a punching bag than she ever has.

Y/n raises an eyebrow as the girl swallows hard, her eyes flickering up to meet hers. The shift in her demeanor is unmistakable, her confidence replaced with intimidation. “you're gonna leave now or what?” y/n asks, her tone steady and unbothered.

With a huff, sequin top girl grabs her friend and disappears between the crowd of people, hopefully leaving the house entirely. Y/n sits back down and puts on her jacket, ignoring how everyone is staring at her so her cheeks wouldn't burn any further. Her heart is hammering against her chest, not being used to confrontation, but she is proud to stand up for her roommate.

She quickly plays her turn and thankfully everyone in the circle understood that she doesn't want to keep the attention on what happened and continued the game. She can feel Sukuna staring at her, so she turns to him, hoping he won't notice how flustered she feels, “what are you staring at?”

Sukuna knows that she's not the type to do what she did, she doesn't even like correcting the servers when they get her order wrong, but she stepped out of her comfort zone to defend him when he couldn't do it for himself. He's feeling something in his heart, something he can't describe, but he doesn't hate the feeling, it's nice actually, like a warm blanket wrapped around him on a cold night.

He planned on protecting her, on turning away anyone who would ruin her night, but instead she protected him and stood up for him. If he was lying down his feet would be kicking.

“that was kinda hot.”

“shut up,” she mumbles and looks away from him and towards the ongoing game, clearly too shy to accept his teasing compliment. He chuckles and does the same, not wanting to fluster her more than she's clearly feeling.

One day, he'll return the favour.

Something quick for roomie!sukuna 🤭

[clini-calia]

It's tough. It is.

I'm a 30-year-old transgender man. From ages 16 to 23-ish, I was stuck in the alt-right pipeline, as well. I watched all that stupid bullshit with "feminists getting owned!!!1!" and what the fuck ever else. I think what pushed me towards it was how people on Tumblr used to be upset over EVERYTHING and would belittle me for my masculinity. I remember seeing a post that had a gif of a scene from some anime, I dunno which one, and it was of a naked girl laying down. People were complaining about her breasts not being realistic - it wasn't the size, it was that they weren't sagging or drooping, and that men need to be portrayed with rock hard dicks that never soften or whatever. But I was just sitting there thinking, "She's laying down... lol. Gravity is literally pushing her breasts against her chest, not pulling them down."

Anyway. Posts like that, but they got worse. I've had a lot of people on the left question my gender. "Why would you want to be a man? Women are the better choice." "I don't know why you'd want to do that, why give up your femininity?" I got into a small argument with a woman once on it, basically saying that it felt like trans men weren't really counted much and were largely ignored in the trans community, along with non binary people, who are usually just treated as "Women Lite." She got so angry that she told me, "You probably just wanna be a guy because you're too ugly to get one for yourself."

That's what tipped me over to the right for a bit. Until I realized they cared even less about me and that if given the chance, well. What happened on November 5th would happen, and they'd look for any excuse to strip me of my rights.

For cis, straight, white men it's not so easy to get out of. They're welcomed with open arms, there's no looming threat of having their rights taken away. So the pull of some "brotherhood" is more enticing. I was groomed and sexually assaulted by a man, but I was also sexually assaulted and groomed by a woman. I'll always believe that, no matter what, humans are just humans. White, black, gay, straight, trans, cis, man, woman - humans. And humans can be good, and they can also fucking suck. So I'll never say "all men are trash" or "all women are garbage" or anything like it ever again.

I see men's issues with mental health. I wish they would understand that it's the patriarchy that ultimately fuels those issues, and I wish some women would see how they also contribute to it. I see a lot of younger women these days placing men's entire values on their income, their careers, their appearances, what they can buy for them... I've seen a tweet of dudes just chilling and playing video games, showing off Pokemon cards or some shit and a woman quote retweeted it and said, "Men used to fight in wars. 🙄" Yeah. That'll stop toxic masculinity - tell men they're not real men unless they go to war and give up what makes them happy. Nice...

The patriarchy hurts women by enforcing the idea that they are to submit to men's wishes, stay at home, clean, cook, have babies. That's all women are allowed to experience.

The patriarchy hurts men by enforcing the idea that they are to overwork themselves, abandon any non traditional masculine interests and basic human emotions in favor of that work, and go to fight and possibly die in wars.

These ideals were put into place as soon as different tribes, races, countries and so on realized that, "Oh. There's OTHER types of people, and I want to be the most powerful and rich so they don't take what I have. Hmm. Better make sure women can only spit out plenty of babies and that plenty of those babies are men to be my soldiers and workforce."

If you're a man that supports any of those ideas, fuck you. If you're a woman that supports any of those ideas, fuck you, too. I'm sick and tired of generalizing people. I'm sick and tired of having to give up pieces of ourselves in order to put more money in billionaire's pockets. I'm sick and tired of men being told they're "too feminine" to be a man over being into stuff like sewing, baking, dolls, fashion, cozy games and I'm tired of seeing women being told they're "too masculine" to be a woman for being into coding, mechanical work, FPS games, science and I'm tired of seeing non binary people being told they're too much of one or the other to be non binary.

I'm tired of seeing men put down other men for having a fucking emotion other than anger or goddamn numbness. I'm tired of seeing women put down other women for being more attractive or not attractive enough. Just... stupid, petty bullshit that should have been over and done with decades ago, why the fuck are we STILL here?

It's tough. Because I love men and care deeply about men. But I also don't think we need to baby them and pat them on the back and say, "It's OK that you joined a fascist group of people that openly and proudly call themselves Nazis." And if a man ever tells me or any woman or AFAB person that it's "your body, my choice," I will grab the nearest blunt object I can get my hands on and beat the snot, shit, and blood out of them.

But I do think we need to work harder at not alienating our CIS, straight, white, male allies. We need to stop generalizing everybody and correct our language when talking about people. And we especially need to make it clear that the alt-right only seeks to divide for their own benefit, not for anyone else's. It's money and power that they want. Men, unless you are wealthy, you are just a vote and a pawn to them, nothing else. We need Democrats in the USA to stop rolling over and blowing kisses to Republicans in the hopes that they'll play nice and cut us some slack. It's not going to happen, not in meaningful numbers. And we NEED to crack down harder on alt-right online spaces. I don't give a fuck no more, get rid of that shit, I don't care if it's seen as too extreme or censorship, if you give these dangerous people a place to commune and feel safe with their harmful ideologies, then it WILL spill over into other spaces. And parents of young children: you need to BE BETTER at monitoring what your kids are seeing and doing online. Take it from someone who no-lifes online games: they are going into these spaces and saying heinous, horrible shit. They are being groomed, they are saying slurs and sexually harassing women, they are even seeking sexual attention and guidance from adults and strangers, and some of those adults are sick enough to take them up on their offers. One little trip into a few public instances of games like VRChat will be all the proof you need. I love the Internet, I really do, but I also see how its anonymity has done harm to us and has severely damaged how young people interact with each other, online and offline.

Anyway, sorry that was so long. I've been pissed the fuck off since I saw that Trump "won" the election and this shit has been on my mind for years, just even more so now.

I couldn't have said it better myself.

[prettypinkeel]

I made some icons for my megoplita au, so here's some explanation of the relationship between the characters in this AU + icons without text in the end. (this is inspired by other tf universes and various shows, etc., it's not tied to any canon)

Relationship chart:

1)Megoplita family

Optimus and Elita are married here. The two were dating since high school and their relationship only grew stronger through years, eventually leading to their marriage.

Both OP&Elita are having feelings/dating for D-16 (and this is mutual).

Rodimus is a distant family member from OP's side but he visits his family a lot, giving that "cool uncle" energy towards Bee.

Arcee and Roddy are besties, and based on comics, I made her adopted by Ultra Magnus, with Magnus mentoring Arcee.

2) Skystar/Jetstar family

Starscream and Jetfire were also high school sweethearts but they were more "friends to lovers" troupe. Both Star and Jet wanting to become researchers in the future. Eventually, they achived their dreams ⭐.

One day Twitch and Spitfire appeared in their lives, the twins were the important life for the two. Despite being a young parents, they always there for each other.

But after one accident, Jetfire was declared missing/dead and that had a big impact on Starscream, so he had to abandon his dreams and focus on raising Twitch and Spitfire, who are still very young.

3)Megastar family

Somehow, D-16 appears in Starscream's life when he needed someone the most. Their relationship were nice at first, D-16 helped with raising Twitch and Spitfire.

Spitfire didn't really like her new dad, so she still clang to Starscream more. Meanwhile Twitch grew really close to D-16, her friendly personality is irresistible!

But D-16 and Starscream relationship doesn't last long. I see them dealing with their own problems separately, they struggle with something «simple» like just sit down and talk, since none of them wants to bother the other. One is growing distant due to trauma of his soulmate leaving him all alone in this world, the other has no idea how to fix this, in a fit of frustration it all ends in break up. They still think of each other as the reason of it.

4) Colleagues:

I think 13 Primes are alive here, and they trust Sentinel very much to deal with the company.

Elita-One is mostly closed with D-16 since they work together, with Elita being his boss. There are some admiration D-16 feels towards Elita which grows into deeper feelings.

Starscream and Elita dislike Sentinel due to his smug personality. Sentinel makes it his personal goal to mess with Starscream throughout the day, and Elita just gets very protective over D-16.

Sentinel and Arachnid are dating here, but they're free to explore the other options. Airachnid listens to him gossiping about the others or just rambling his thoughts to her, both don't really mind it. They're just that duo who tell each other "exaaaaaactly" lol.

I also like the idea of Shockwave having that tiny crush on Elita but he would never admit it, even though it is very obvious. They're co workers but work in different department.

Airachnid and Elita rarely talk to each other unless it's about business, there's something in Elita that makes Airachnid to take interest in her. Silently staring at Elita from the corner of the room as definition of love language, aaaaaaa :p

[ashasdiary]

Bodyguard

Pairing: Geto Suguru x reader Synopsis: Geto finds out you’re being harassed at work. CW: harassment, established relationship, protective!geto, angry!geto, Geto beats him up, a little angst, fluff, brief suggestiveness WC: 1.9k A/N: no one look at me I’m trying to cope 😵‍💫

It started very innocently. Just small chats here and there, in the work kitchen, passing by through the hallways, in the elevators. Then the chats became a bit longer. You initially thought your coworker Daniel was just being attentive, asking about you, showing genuine interest in what you had to say. To be sometimes expected from a work colleague. 

But you realised his intentions early on. So you made it a point each time he asked your plans to mention your boyfriend, Geto, just to make sure he was aware that you were not interested. 

That didn’t stop him. 

Every time he passed by your desk, he’d pat your shoulder and mouth a small ‘hi’. Initially, it wasn’t concerning, because it was minor, just him saying hi in greeting. But the more time passed, the longer his touches on your shoulder, and the more agitated you got. 

He’d join you, uninvited, while you had your lunch. Offering him a polite smile, you wouldn’t say anything as he’d sit near to you in the work kitchen. 

“Whatcha got?” He asked once. 

“Just a sandwich,” you reply, mouth full, not caring about manners in that moment. Because he had eyes. Why ask stupid questions? 

“Oh, nice. Healthy,” he nods, opening up his food container, “You always have healthy stuff.”

You blink a few times, thinking what the hell, keeping tabs on my lunch? He begins to eat and you hum, kind of dismissively, “Yeah.”

You continue to eat your sandwich in silence, looking at your phone, hoping he’ll leave you in peace. Ha! Why would he? 

“What did you get up to on the weekend?” He asks and you glance up at him, giving a tight lipped smile. 

“Had a day out with my boyfriend, we did a hike and then saw a new movie…not much else,” you say. 

“Ah, hikes are great. I hope it was a good movie. It’s nice having a companion, but I’m so particular about who I keep around…it’s why I can’t find anyone decent,” he responds, and you chew on your lip, feeling a bit unnerved by the trajectory of the conversation. 

His phone rings then, and you thank the stars for the interruption. You stand up then as he takes it and you say something about your lunch break finishing before you dash out of there. 

Geto had noticed you’d been a bit down recently, but he didn’t want to push you to talk about it because he knew that there wasn’t always a reason for being down. Moods fluctuate, something he could personally understand completely. Instead, he ups his affection to you, making sure you feel loved, and seen, and safe. Which you always do. 

That week, it continued. 

Fucking hell, was he persistent. More touches; the shoulder taps had become shoulder squeezes. More questions. More attention.

At the very least you were thankful you weren’t working in the same team or even in the same department. But still, it was starting to affect you. You’d feel anxious as it approached the time that he’d come into work. You’d feel anxious when you heard his footsteps. 

Your coworker who sat beside you noticed it too. “He’s so weird…what’s his problem?” She comments, then her voice softens when she looks at you being tense, “hey…you okay?”

“Not really…” you whisper to her, voice wavering. 

She looks concerned, “Tell HR. I’ve seen what he’s been doing, every day, it’s creepy.”

“But I don’t want to cause trouble,” you find yourself saying, and you trail off as you hear yourself. It sounds ridiculous and you know it. 

Your colleague says your name, “Come on. It’s not. Do not sacrifice your comfort. Go tell them…or do you want me to?” She asks. 

Deliberating for a moment, you then shake your head and inhale deeply, “I will.”

After having a conversation with HR, it all happens very fast. Within 3 hours, Daniel is being escorted out of the building having been fired. 

You feel sick to your stomach, because you hadn’t wanted to cause such a drastic consequence. But as the day goes on, you are reassured that it was a completely justified decision. 

It’s when you’re on the way home that you get a text from an unknown number, angrily asking what he’d done to deserve that and that you should watch your back. 

When you go home to Geto that day, you walk through the door and burst into tears, all of your built up emotions being let out. He’s quick to envelope you in his arms tightly and hold you against the warmth of his chest. 

“Hey, sweetheart…shh…I’ve got you, it’s okay…come sit down,” he says to you, in a soft, hushed voice as he guides you to the couch. You sit on his lap, face buried in his neck as you sniffle, tears rolling down your cheeks. 

“Tell me what’s going on, honey,” he prompts, rubbing your back in soothing circles, “talk to me.”

So you tell him everything. Every instance, every encounter, every inappropriate conversation. And then the text. You notice that as you’d been explaining, he’d stiffened, his gaze had turned ice cold. 

He utters your name, gently pushing your hair behind your ear as you look at him, “You should have told me the minute this began…” he sighs softly, “Maybe take some time off work. And if you don’t want to do that, I’m going to take you to and from there. Okay? Nothing is going to happen to you, I promise.” 

The conviction in his tone is a safety blanket to you and you bury yourself against him, whispering a thank you and an I love you. 

“I love you too, sweetheart. You’re safe, always,” he kisses your hair and holds you for the rest of the evening. 

You’d debated taking time off, but you knew that would only postpone your fear. So you go to work as usual, but with the safety of Geto’s company. 

He had suggested driving you to and from, but you knew the traffic in the city was awful which would be quite long. So he commutes with you. Four trips he makes each day, just to ensure that you are safe. 

His presence alone was enough but knowing that he’d never let anything happen to you, that he was there only to protect you, makes you feel very much at ease. 

You’re pressed up against each other on the train a couple of weeks later and he grins at you, snaking his arm around your waist. “Up close and personal, huh,” you murmur to him. 

“Not close enough,” he teases you with a wink and you flick his chin with a laugh. 

“Sugu, you might as well just come and work at the same company with all these trips you’re making,” you say as you walk hand in hand from the station to your work building. 

He chuckles, “While that would be fun, working in the same place as you, I think that they might end up firing me too for inappropriate touching,” he jokes and you laugh at this. 

He smiles to himself at the sound of your laugh, happy to see that you’re not feeling so anxious or sensitive anymore and can laugh at jokes about it.

“You’d always want to get me alone,” you tease.

“Oh, yeah. Every chance I get,” he squeezes your hand as you approach the building. 

You head inside together and you let go of his hand, readying your keycard to swipe through the security gate several meters away, and you’re about to bid each other goodbye when you stop in your tracks. Geto looks to you in question and he follows your gaze to where Daniel is stood outside the security gate, waiting. 

He didn’t know what Daniel looked like of course, but he is quick to put two and two together. At the same time, Daniel sees you. You tremble slightly as you see the look on his face as he storms over, somehow not making note of the giant 6’3 man stood beside you. 

Geto quickly approaches, and he grabs Daniel by the collar, lifting him easily off the floor. “You have some nerve coming here again…I ought to teach you a fucking lesson,” Geto seethes. 

Daniel is completely taken aback, turning into a spluttering mess as he grabs onto Geto’s arm that was holding him up, “I— I didn’t do anything! I don’t even know you! Put me down!”

Geto’s brows furrowed deeply, his blood boiling, “You sly piece of shit, you deserve what’s coming,” Geto says through clenched teeth, and throws Daniel across the shiny floor. He slides a few yards before coming to a stop. He curls into a ball as Geto angrily approaches him, crouching down and pulling his head back by his hair. 

“You think this is funny? Showing up to your old workplace just to harass someone again?” Geto raises his voice. 

“N-no, I didn’t—” Daniel quivers, but Geto’s not hearing it. 

“Like hell you didn’t,” Geto bites back, then performs a jujutsu technique that has the man being catapulted against the wall so forcefully that it cracks.  

Daniel is knocked out cold. You cover your mouth in shock before you rush over to Geto’s side and hold onto his arm, “Sugu…”

At the same time, security guards rush over to both Geto and Daniel and police had been called as well. The security guard recognises you but says to Geto, “Sir, police have been called. We ask for your cooperation.”

“You don’t want me to leave the premises?” Geto asks coolly, swiping some sweat off his cheek with his thumb. 

“No, sir,” the security guard gestures for Geto to follow him and waits for him to do so. 

You look at Geto helplessly. “Sugu, I’m sorry—” you begin and he frowns. 

“Why’re you sorry? This isn’t your fault. I acted in your defence. He was clearly coming at you,” he says, his eyes searching yours, placing his hands on your arms and caressing them gently. You relax a little bit. He’s right, of course. 

“They can charge me but if any, it’s likely they’ll be dropped. There’s CCTV here, and the security guards,” he looks over to the security guard stood waiting beside you both and speaks directly to him, “were clearly negligent in carrying out their jobs to allow someone who’d been fired for harassment back into the building again.”

The guard swallows thickly. You try to hide your smile at how Geto’s handling this, it’s admirable to see. 

“There’s no problem for me, I’ll happily cooperate and give my statement to the police. The evidence is right there,” Geto says to you and nods his head to the CCTV cameras overhead. 

“Can I come with you?” You ask, and he outstretches his arm. 

“They’ll probably want a statement from you too. It’s best if you did,” he says and you both walk with the security guard to the side. 

Police arrive, take statements, and evidence of the CCTV. They determine there’s no charges. You head back home with Suguru and take the day off. 

He’d made your favourite meal for lunch, and as you’re curled up together on the couch eating and watching TV, you kiss his cheek. “It’s sweet having you as my bodyguard.”

“I like being it too,” he replies and glances over to you with a tender gaze, feeling content that he’s the one to protect you and keep you safe. 

“Does this mean we can do bodyguard role play in the bedroom?” You say and he coughs, almost choking on his food. 

You laugh quietly and pat his back as he says your name, “Now that, I didn’t expect.”

“Is that a yes?” You grin as he sips on his drink, eyeing you over the rim.

He sets his glass down and smirks, “It certainly is.”

Do not copy or translate my work. © ashasdiary, all rights reserved. Divider by cafekitsune

[really-fanny-longbottom]

a big question

summary: the inner circle is faced with an important question from reader.

warnings: none, just endless fluff

words: 2.5k

cassian glanced up when he heard you step into the room, and he gave you a big smile "there she is!"

rhysand looked up too, his eyes lighting up with warmth as he saw you.

you stopped in the center of the room, making a little and shy twirl as you showed your family your new dress.

mor looked over and immediately exclaimed "oh my god, you look so cute!"

amren didn't even look up, but you could hear the smile in her voice as she chimed in "she certainly does."

azriel remained quiet, sending only a genuine smile as his response.

you could feel your cheeks turning pink from all the attention you were receiving.

"thank you," you said, smiling as you walked towards the group and sat down on the floor next to the coffee table.

cassian set down his glass of wine and watched you as you settled. 

he leaned down and ruffled your hair, giving you a cheeky grin. "you do look cute as hell," he said.

"i think i'm going to wear this dress for my thirteen birthday, what do you think, brother?" you asked, even though it was a silly question, you always valued their opinions.

cassian stopped messing with your hair and considered you for a moment. he tilted his head and studied you, his eyes flickering over your dress.

"i think you could wear a paper sack and still look beautiful," he said with a playful smile.

rhysand, who was sitting in the lounge chair behind you, rolled his eyes at his comment. 

"don't listen to him," he said, his tone serious. "you look lovely. just be careful, people will start paying attention to how grown up you are."

at his response, a hint of mischief took its place in your eyes. turning back to face your other brother, you made sure to give him the most amusing smile. 

"you mean, like boys, dear brother?"

rhysand sighed and leaned back into the chair, crossing one leg over the other.

"exactly like boys," he said, giving you a half-smile, "it'll start with the boys noticing how sweet and pretty you are, then they'll start asking you out, and then all of a sudden you're sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night just to meet one of them."

cassian snorted and elbowed rhys, making the high lord chuckle.

you feigned a sign of relief "i'm glad you know that's exactly what's going to happen, brother." and with that, you turned around, back to the table where you retreated a slice of chocolate cake.

rhys laughed and shook his head, his violet eyes glimmering with amusement. "i know you far too well, little star," he said affectionately.

cassian chimed in, "you're going to be having boy drama and heartbreaks before we know it."

"so, does that mean that i'm allowed to date?" you crawl over to the other couch where you leaned your back against it, so this way, you had a view of your two brothers and the rest of your family. 

rhys raised an eyebrow at your question and looked over at cassian and morrigan, who suddenly found their glasses of wine very interesting. 

a feline smile made its way in amren's face, the ancient one never taking her eyes out of her book.

azriel leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest, amusement in his eyes at the sight of rhys reaction — oh, he was going to love this.

your brother stayed quiet for a moment. he didn't want to think about you growing up and start dating. he wished he had a superpower where he could keep you this young forever, but he knew that the time would eventually come.

not wanting you to see him being overprotective, he was quick to replace his frown for a smile "absolutely not. let's not forget you are only twelve, darling sister. you're going to have to wait a few more years for that."

cassian, who had gotten up to refill his glass of wine, took a seat next to you on the couch you were leaning against. "rhys is right, little star. you're still a baby."

you, sat up straight, looking at cassian outraged "a baby?!"

cassian chuckled and poked your nose lightly, a mischievous grin coming to his face, "yes, a baby."

rhys smirked and nodded "he's right, y/n. you're always going to be our little baby, regardless of how much you grow."

"excuse me?" you look at your brother, not believing what he was actually saying. 

in the need for an ally, you turned to the most unpredictable person, "amren, back me up in here, please."

amren glanced up from the book in her hands and looked at you amused.

for a split second, hope invaded you, making you believe that she would agree with you, but as always, the tiny ancient one surprised you.

"i have to agree with the boys here," she said with a smile, "you'll always be the baby."

one of your eyes twisted in disbelief, "you've got to be kidding me."

pulling a laugh from the shadowsinger, he found himself enjoying the conversation and took a seat on the couch in front of you.

cassian's large hand returned to your hair and ruffled it a little more, "don't worry, baby sister. you're still adorable."

rhysand smirked, and his eyes were filled with affection when he looked directly at you, "indeed and that's not changing anytime soon."

smacking cassian's hand away from your hair, you decide to give another try, "az, a little help, please?"

his smile grew and his eyes softened, "don't give me that look, y/n" he mentioned, referring to your puppies eyes that you always used when you wanted to get your way.

"ugh, traitor" you murmured with a roll of your eyes. feeling defeated, you turned to your last hope, "hi, mor." you tell her with the sweetest smile.

"hi, little star." she returned with amusement in her eyes, knowing very well what you were doing.

"we're best friends, right?" you say, making everyone in the room laugh, and with a nod from the blond, you proceed, "so, what's your opinion?"

morrigan chuckled and grabbed her glass of wine from the small coffee table, "sorry, sweetheart. you're the baby."

"i am not! i'll be thirteen in two weeks. you guys are ridiculous." you cross your arms over your chest.

the group chuckled at your persistence with rhys being the first to speak "ah, yes. thirteen, the age where you became a fully grown adult."

cassian bend slightly over and dropped an arm around your shoulders, making your eyes lock with his, "give up, little star. in our eyes, you'll always be the baby."

you get up from the floor and put your hands on your hips, "seriously? it's not my fault if you guys are almost as old as pryhtian."

you leaned over the table and grabbed another slice of chocolate cake before sitting on the couch this time and crossed your legs.

when you were about to take the first bite, your heart almost jumped out of your chest when cassian took the plate from you.

you gasped but didn't have the time to protest.

"hey, watch it, little star" his smile turned playful when he saw the desperation on your face for your cake.

rhysand chuckled, enjoying the entertainment you and cassian were providing, "oh, and we're not old, okay? we're just well-seasoned."

a big laugh erupted from you, making you forget your precious cake for a few seconds, "well-seasoned," several giggles came from you, "that's a good one, rhys."

rhysand chuckled and shook his head. "hey, watch the attitude, darling sister. i'm the high lord, remember."

cassian teased, "yeah, show some respect, baby sister."

you huffed in annoyance, "oh, this is just getting pathetic."

rhysand and cassian exchanged grins, loving how easy it's to get under your skin.

"careful, y/n. we might end up grounding you." rhysand said.

you took your plate from cassian's hand and started eating your cake "please, i'm an angel." you said with a mouth full of chocolate.

morrigan barked out a laugh, nearly spilling her wine. "an angel, really?"

amren smiled, never taking her eyes off her book. "oh, you clearly have no idea of how much of a mischievous little creature you can be."

you looked away with a big smile on your face when you replied "i don't know what you're talking about."

rhysand chuckled and leaned forward, supporting his arms on his thighs and looking directly at you, "oh, i think you know exactly what we're talking about."

rhys extended his arm and tried to poke your side, but you swat his hand before he could, pulling a smile from him.

"anyways," you interrupted the group's laughter, "back to the important question."

"and what question is that, sweetheart?" mor asked you, clearly amused with the show you were putting on.

you cleared your throat, sitting up straighter and pushing your hair behind your shoulder.

your family laughed at your gesture.

"when can i date?" you asked.

the room went silent for a moment, and then chaos ensued.

“when you're thirty.” cassian replied.

“forty.” morrigan said playful.

“fity.” rhysand added.

"you guys are impossible. amren, make them stop" you protested.

amren, who had discharged her book, too intrigued in the conversation to keep reading, looked at you with a hint of tenderness in her eyes.

everyone knew she had a weak spot for you, even if she would never admit such a thing.

"how about we compromise?" she said amused, "when you're twenty?"

"what? but that's in six years!"

another round of laughter filled the living room. the family was having the best afternoon due to someone being too persistent and stubborn.

"that's the point, little star." morrigan said before taking a sip of her wine.

rhysand stood up and occupied the place next to you on the couch. he brought you into a side hug, tucking you on his left side. 

you took the opportunity to lay your head on his shoulder. 

still with a smile on his face but a more serious tone, he told you, "you're still very young, darling. and as your family, it's our obligation to make sure you're safe when that happens."

you tilted your head up to meet the violet eyes of your big brother "you only say that because it's me. i have no doubt that you guys did unholy things when you were teenagers."

the group exchanged knowing glances at your comment.

rhysand chuckled, "unholy things? darling, we were absolutely innocent during our youth."

you barked out a laugh, "yeah, right."

rhys laughed and shook his head, "alright, you do have a point there."

cassian raised his hands in surrender, "guilty as charged."

mor smirked and let out a laugh. "oh, we definitely engaged in some. . .sinful activities when we were teenagers."

you shake your hand in feigned disappointment. you turned your eyes to the shadowsinger, "azriel, care to join the circle of shame?"

the male smiled slightly, "i'm afraid i'll have to plead guilty as well" he finished with a shrug of his shoulders.

mor and cassian smiled at azriel's admission, clearly entertained by the male's answer.

"i knew it." you said as you tried to reach for cassian's wine glass.

cassian was quick to swat your hand at the same time rhys grabbed your wrist gently.

"don't even think about it, little star."

"wha-" you looked at every member of your family frustrated "i can't date, i can't drink. what can i do?"

your family laughed at your frustration, it was amusing to them how easily you get riled up.

azriel intervened, "there's plenty you can do while you wait a few more years to start dating."

cassian added, "yeah, like studying and training."

your head turned immediately to cassian at mention of training.

"training? oh, no, no, no, no more training. i am not waking up at six in the morning ever again."

cassian chuckled and ruffled your hair again. "oh, come on now. you know training is important."

rhysand smiled and tried to help, "i remember some of your first training lessons. it wasn't that bad."

"not that bad?!" you said a little too loud, "azriel kicked my ass! like literally!"

azriel, chuckled at your statement, "hey, i always held back with you," he protested.

cassian and mor giggled, no doubt remembering that day.

rhysand smirked, "yeah, even azriel knows not to go too hard on the baby."

at the mention of the word 'baby' again, you rolled your eyes. 

"you guys are ridiculous."

cassian let out a loud gasp, feigning offense, "ridiculous? how dare you insult our amazing judgment and parenting skills?"

rhys chuckled, amused at your choice of words, "oh, we’re simply looking out for your best interests, little star. it’s our job to protect you and make sure of your well-being."

you shot daggers at the shadowsinger, who still had a smile on his lips, "you hear that, azriel? no pushing me off the rooftop because i was being annoying" you quoted with your hands. 

azriel chuckled, his tone teasing, "hey, you were practically begging for it, y/n."

cassian snickered and nodded, clearly enjoying this.

rhysand smiled and said, "ah, yes. don't test the limits, darling. azriel has his own ways of dealing with your attitude."

"yeah, no shit."

several protests were heard out loud.

"language."

"watch your mouth, young lady."

"oh, look who's getting bold."

"manners."

your family chuckled, amused by your antics. something they always liked — it kept them on their toes.

you just shrugged your shoulders "i heard you guys saying things a lot worse then that."

a second round of protests gained form.

"what?"

"we would never do that."

"i think you're imagining things."

"absolutely not."

you giggled at their responses, filling the room with your laughter. it was impossible for your family not to follow. 

with your head still on your brother's shoulder, you gave one last try. "so, when i'm twenty?"

rhysand and cassian exchanged looks, letting their protective side showing a little while they contemplated your question.

your eyes traveled between a pair of violet eyes and brown ones. 

upon seeing your brothers gaze, you couldn't help the surge to roll your eyes — again.

"ugh, stop being like that," you said as you hit them both in their legs gently, "just give me an answer."

cassian nodded his head, a silent agreement made between the two of them.

rhys's eyes turn to you, only to see you already looking at him with your sweet and innocent doe eyes.

seriously, how was he supposed to say 'no' to you when you looked at him like that?

a defeated sigh revealed his answer even before speaking it, "fine. you can start dating when you're twenty."

a big smile appeared on your lips, "hell yeah!"

the room was filled with laughter and smiles, you really had all of them wrapped around your little finger.

"but not before that!" cassian cut in, giving you a stern look, "you're going to have to wait until you're twenty and that's it."

your smile spread and you patted him on the arm slightly, "that's okay, brother. i can wait."

much to your brothers dismay, you ended up having your first boyfriend at the age of sixteen. 

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*if you asked to be tagged and you weren't, it's because I couldn't find your blog.

the beautiful dividers belong to @cafekitsune

[brain-damage-culture]

So, this. I was homeschooled, and I will say. I did meet people who had legitimate reasons that homeschooling was better for them. Many had been in public school and were severely bullied, most due to disabilities. I myself was bullied relentlessly and my mom cites that as her reason for pulling me and my siblings out of school. (She was also enamored with the idea of downsizing into a trailer and traveling the country. Yes, with a newborn baby, two audhd kids, a dog, and her crumbling marriage) Here's how that went:

The thing is, I didn't stop being bullied when I was pulled out, I just didn't have any escape from the bullying happening in my home. I went from having a small group of friends and acquaintances and teachers to talk with to only my abusive mother, absent father, struggling little brother, and the baby I was raising in place of my mom. (She slept in the same bed as me for the first 6 years, I fed, bathed, changed, and entertained her)

Occasionally, we would fall in with homeschooling co-ops, but inevitably, drama would happen, and I learned not to get attached. I don't think I could name one single person I met during that time period if you held a gun to my head. The whole traveling the country thing didn't work out, and we went from having a house to camping or renting in small spaces. I was 12 when I started homeschooling, and I stayed at a 5th grade education level for the most part until I was 16. My mom soon stopped having any interest or ability to teach me, so I mostly just read and fucked around all day. It was boring and frustrating, I didn't have consistent access to the internet, and I fought with my family all the time.

My state doesn't require homeschoolers to submit a report card or have the children see a counselor once a year, or really anything. In 2015, my mom gave up on educating me and put me in a dual enrollment program at a community college for high schoolers, and that was what got me finally to something approaching my peers on an education level. It also finally put me in contact with adults who cared about me and wanted me to succeed, professors who checked on my progress and listened to my concerns. A library with an internet connection and nobody watching what books I was reading.

That school saved my life, and I don't say that lightly.

In 2017, a fellow homeschooler in my state was not so lucky. Matthew Tirado was a 17 year old nonverbal autistic kid who was enrolled in public school. His parents were repeatedly reported for child abuse, especially by his sister, until they took his sister out of school completely. Two months later, Matthew died. His sister didn't have any way of contacting outside help anymore, and her brother died because their parents knew that nobody could speak up for him any more.

I remember everyone else's horror, and outrage, and I remember my mom. The woman who had abused me when she knew I had nobody to go. She was scared. Because she still had my younger siblings, and she did not want to face consequences. So many homeschooling parents in my state did the same, and they fought hard to defend their right to abuse their kids. And they won.

To this day, in my state 36% of parents who pulled their child from public school in order to homeschool them did so *after* a Department of Child and Family Services (DCF) investigation revealed that they were abusing their children. That's more than one fourth. Once a child is pulled out of school in my state, there are no requirements accommodations, no therapy, no supports, and no accountability. Homeschool parents willfully practice 'unschooling' or buy curriculums from shady organizations that purport to provide an education that will turn their children into whatever parents want them to be.

Public schools aren't great. We all know this. Neither are private schools, in a different, equally fucked way. But homeschooling with no checks or balances, nobody even making sure the kids are still alive after they're out of the system? It's a level of nightmare I dearly wish nobody had to experience. And I got off so lightly.

Anyway enough lame gifted kid discourse we are in our 20s. Let's talk about how homeschooling in america should be fucking illegal it's insane lol

[read-write-thrive]

there are all of 6 fics on ao3 that come up when you search the word “disabled” in the dead boy detectives fandom. I’m dealing with a fibromyalgia flare up rn so I’ve decided to come up with some (potential!) disability/condition/syndrome/etc. headcanons. enjoy!

(oh and just to note: I stayed away from conditions with obvious facial / appearance difference as no actors with facial / appearance difference were cast in the show and I was unsure if it would be appropriate. while I have experience with a lot of the following diagnoses, I do not claim to be an expert on any of them and do not intend for this to be used as a diagnostic tool. if you feel any of these are offensive/inappropriate, please message me and I’m happy to talk about it :) this is more just to encourage broader disability representation within the fandom!)

Edwin: autistic, PTSD (from hell), chronic pain/fibromyalgia (from his death/hell), minor visual impairment (not enough to need the hard-to-come-by testing needed for glasses when he was alive and so assumed the various limits/effects were normal. was told otherwise by Niko), would’ve had shingles if lived long enough

Charles: ADHD, PTSD (from his father/growing up in an abusive household), dyslexia, Reynaud’s syndrome (either already born with it or as a result of his death—both angsty), was in the beginning stages of an ED prior to his death, post-concussion syndrome, near-sightedness (never given glasses bc he wasn’t about to tell his dad the board looked a little blurry sometimes)

Crystal: cPTSD (reminder that neglect is also abuse :), bipolar 1, IBS, endometriosis

Niko: autism, depression, POTS, hEDS, anxiety, sprite-induced agoraphobia, epilepsy, lactose intolerance

Monty: Depersonalization-derealization disorder, selective amnesia (this is not the first times Esther has messed with his form/killed and revived him, but the experience is traumatic and so his brain decides not to remember it), recurrent arrhythmia, synesthesia

Jenny: OCD, BPD, ED recovered, Celiac’s disease, diabetes type 1, anemia

TCK: autism, NPD, lactose intolerance, colourblind

Esther: chronic pain (I’m choosing to believe that the cane isn’t just for show!!), NPD, endometriosis

Tragic Mick: cPTSD, depression, HoH, arthritis, diabetes

(The Night Nurse , the Dandelion Sprites, and various other characters felt either too supernatural and/or not developed enough to assign anything to lmao)