#so it is pointless to want for anything and it's pointless to pretend i don't... and i guess what i'm left with is just

[summertimesadnessirl]

Someone else broke my life.

They should have to fix it.

I have repaired the damage of my shitty childhood and my shitty economic system and built a life I wanted to live like 3 times already.

I'm not doing it again.

If someone wants me to not rot in bed until I find a way to kill myself that sticks and is permanent for once...

Idk if this is a real ancient Chinese thing or something they made up for a shitty movie, but if you save someone's life you are responsible for them.

I feel like I am not responsible for what happens to me. I am not in control of my life. I keep saving my life and "doing the work" and in return not receiving personal autonomy. I'm not saying personal autonomy like blah blah blah toxic hyper independence you suck I hate you blah.

I'm saying I should be able to do the work and live alone and not have sudden random drastic fluctuations in my income, I repaired my credit and saved a huge emergency fund and lost it and now I'm in debt worse that before. I should be able to make friends and romantic liasons and business relationships with people where they don't fuck me over on the way out and they just wish me the best of luck. I should be allowed to be easily able to afford the things that make it easier to live with my disability without having to justify them to anyone and I should be allowed to tell people to fuck off if they are mean to me, and I should be allowed to know that if something is wrong in a social setting that people put on their adult underwear and tell me in words what is wrong before retaliation against me, and that my disability won't be used against me, and that I can tell people details of my life when they ask for them without having to worry that later they will intentionally use them to humiliate me, and I should be allowed to live in a society where we normalize the idea that people who follow the rules but use them to fuck people over are to blame for their own actions and the people who are pretending to be so hamstrung by the rules that they can't help are actually just as bad and the people who tell you it's your responsibility to do better and share dubious advice with you are on thin fucking ice.

Literally I built myself a little tiny micro version of that in my own life.

And then someone came and violated me and took it. And they did it in such a way that they will never face consequences and I have to know that no matter what I do, they could do that to anyone.

Building anything is pointless.

Saving my life is pointless.

Living has no value if it's only your breath and your lungs.

I'm not saying I won't work, I worked on my business for years before I got a dime, I worked 6 to 7 days a week when I had it running well for the majority of the time. I'm saying I'm not going to run at some fucking football and pretend that I'll be able to kick it this time.

The only thing I am willing to put the bare minimum of effort into is paying my bills and trying to figure out how to die in one shot relatively easily alone in my home.

I don't want to take anyone with me or die in front of anyone. And I don't want to heal. I did that. It took years and years and every time I got close and once I did, people just came along and retraumatized me.

It didn't even take much time or effort on their part.

So what I am going to do is die.

All of you are going to watch.

That's what you wanted.

You wouldn't be satisfied with anything else.

People have been coming at me and attacking me and spiting me and backstabbing me and betraying me and liking to see my cry my whole life.

Offering them something else hasn't worked. Hiding hasn't worked. Compromise hasn't worked. Begging hasn't worked. Therapy hasn't worked. Drugs, legal and prescription. Friendship, love, philosophy, religion, witchcraft, meditation, hypnosis, vice, virtue. None of it has worked.

You wanna torture me to death?

Here ya go.

If you didn't want to torture me to death, this wouldn't have gone on for three goddamn years straight.

If you wanted to not hurt me, you would have stopped hurting me when I said you were hurting me.

This was never what I wanted ot what I agreed to or what I asked for.

“no one else can save you” ok cool well i don’t want to do it. i do not view myself as worth saving anyway. godspeed

[bluastro-yellow]

get it Kim has a lot to unpack do you get it

it's imperfect I'll never polish it just take it as it is I should have put aerostatics not airplanes...

[selfinflictedgunshotwound]

i don't think it would even feel good to be loved the way i am rn

[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

≡;-꒰ 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 & 𝑫𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒔 𝑻𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒀𝒐𝒖

── mdni sexual content ; how the boys would tease you in bed. inclusive of: pet name usage, dirty talk, praise, edging, heavy petting, slight mentions of: vaginal sex, fingering, nipple play, oral (f. receiving) ✨

⁺₊ / an: i am a big supporter of these 4 being absolutely infuriating !! xavier's has references to "pretty little mess" if you've caught it 🤭

caleb was impatient at heart. the way he teased you would never have you begging, but always buckling under the weight of his desires, always hiding your face in embarrassment, at every way he'd elicit sounds from you that you didn't even know you could make. you've known him for practically all your life; the mere thought that he could get you like this, see you like this, made you flush impossibly red with embarrassment... and he knew. he'd call you pipsqueak when he spoke, a testament of the closeness of your relationship, and you would barely retain your sanity. he'd praise you, too—relaying in your ears how good you feel and how pretty you look with his cock buried deep into you, telling you every fantasy he'd had in his head, going on about how he's addicted to your pussy and he'd never be the same without it. every dirty word from his mouth had you whimpering, clenching around his length—you hated it, but you loved it. "Oh, fuck, pipsqueak... Takin' me so well like that... fuck, you're just so, so good—"

rafayel would simply be so aggravating. the two of you are always teasing each other, and he'd always find a way to get on your nerves one way or another. so, in the bedroom... well. he'd be smirking at the way your hips would chase his whenever he pulled out of you, almost laughing at your expense, pure amusement written over every inch of his body. he loved you, yes—but he'd never let you cum. not when he was in control; not when he delighted in your whines and your whimpers, begging him for more. he'd simply rub on your arm, mocking coos into your ear about how needy you are—time and time again, whether it be from his fingers or his tongue or his cock, he would dare to leave you thrashing on his bed, your release slipping away from you slowly, slowly. it would render you sensitive to his every touch. closer and closer, reaching the peak of your high quicker every time he edged you... until just a kiss, just a nip against your skin, and you'd be shaking—coming undone, spilling over his sheets. only then would he proceed to fuck you senseless. "wow, so desperate for me! what a cutie~ you want to cum, don't you?"

xavier? sweet, innocent xavier, like you've always known him to be... not. xavier, the little shit, he's deliberate. he'd have fingers trailing all over your skin, barely-there touches that have your hair raising in response. he'd place light, feathery kisses, from your jawline, to your neck, to your collarbone... and he'd have the audacity to breathe so close to your ear, claiming he just wants to cuddle—he doesn't, obviously he doesn't. but he pretends. he pretends like he doesn't know what he's doing to you. and he'd never touch you any more than that until he got his fill, until you would rub your thighs and his ears would perk at the subtle sounds of your wetness. xavier knows exactly how to get you riled up, weak in his arms, mumbling about the unfairness of it all, whining to him how you just want him to fuck you already and skip all these pointless theatrics... but he won't stop. not until he wants to. it doesn't matter how many times you beg. if he wants to see you get even more desperate for him, then he will. "but, angel, why? i'm barely doing anything to you... are you already so wet...?"

zayne always knows what you want. of course he does, he's easily memorized every one of your expressions, every one of your reactions; what gets you clenching tight around his cock and how exactly to make you throw your head back moaning. but he won't do it. he won't do it unless you tell him to, unless he hears the words directly fall from you lips, dictating to him in detail exactly what you want him to do to you. it was never easy for you to do in the first place, so embarrassed of the filthy words coming from your mouth—but he'd make it even harder. be it the friction of his cock gliding in and out of your pussy, or the way his lips would swirl around your nipples, or maybe even just the way he'd look at you—intense, observant, waiting. you could barely form a coherent thought, let alone try to speak in words he could actually understand. "what's wrong, sweetheart? you know you have to tell me. come on, it's not too hard, is it? open your mouth. speak."

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[cherriegyuu]

back room | csc

pairing: seungcheol x f!reader genre: smut word count: 2.3k summary: while seungcheol is on a meeting you decide that it's a great moment to send him nudes. warnings: minors do not interact, kissing, stimulation, swearing, petnames, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don't do this) a/n: this is part of 1k event, it was requested @xcynthiaaa. i hope you like it. prompts: "Feeling a bit possessive, aren't we?" + “Can you stop sending me nudes, I’m at work.” lower case was intentional, not proofread

you anxiously watched the meeting room, you glanced at your phone every now and then to make sure that seungcheol had gotten your text. he was doing a good job of keeping a straight face, his eyes not even once going to his phone or to you, though you were sure that he knew that the new influx of texts was from you. 

without meaning to, your eyes went from him to the woman sitting right in front of him. since the beginning of the meeting she never stopped looking at seungcheol and if the nasty gossip that floated to your ears was any true, she had been hitting on him a long time before you showed up.

maybe you were feeling a little insecure about yourself, because the woman was stunning, with the kind of face and body one could easily find in a magazine, or maybe you just hated the fact that there was a woman throwing herself at your boyfriend. to his credit, seungcheol never looked at her, unless she directly called his name, and when she touched his leg with her pointy shoes he scooted his chair back.

you bit your lip, wanting to come up with an excuse to go into the meeting room and maybe end it. but you didn't have a good one and although if you did go in, no one would ever bat an eye, it just wasn't right. and, more than anything else, it could backfire and instead of being amused by your sudden jealousy, seungcheol would get angry because you could have potentially ruined an important moment for him. 

so you kept your butt on your chair, doing your very best to keep your focus on the work that needed to be done. it was pointless and you knew that. every couple of seconds your eyes moved to the meeting room. 

"who was the idiot that decided that a meeting room should have glass walls?" you asked no one in particular. 

"pretty sure it was the ceo" wonwoo said from the desk in front of you. 

it was a surprise that he even heard you in the first place. wonwoo was great at ignoring the people around him, you more than anyone else, and he usually had his earbuds in, blasting music loud enough that people near him could hear it too. you liked to pretend that he never answered because his hearing was getting progressively worse because of all the loud music. 

"almost certain your boyfriend agreed, saying it was a great idea," he said, not looking at you. 

you choked on your own saliva, eyes wide as you reached for the water bottle on your right. no one was supposed to know about your relationship with seungcheol, as it was against company rules. both of you thought that you had done a good job in hiding it, a fantastic one actually. 

you never arrived together, never left together, barely talked of things that weren't specific about work, and if there was a company dinner you never sat close to each other, always choosing opposite sides, but careful enough not to be facing each other. 

you were always careful, to the point most people thought you didn't like each other. 

"he's not..."

"you don't have to lie" he waved a hand in your direction, "i'm the only one who knows. and i only know because i saw you together a couple of weeks ago at a restaurant" 

you opened your mouth to say something when your phone suddenly lit up with an incoming text. it was pathetic how quickly you grabbed your phone, to the point wonwoo laughed at you. 

cheol feeling a bit possessive, aren't we?

you bit your lip trying to hide your smile but it was almost impossible. when you looked at the meeting room, seungcheol's eyes were focused on you. 

to the average person, he looked displeased, angry even. but you knew that the glint in his eyes was for a different reason.

you moved your attention back to your phone.

you just wanted to remind you that you have a girlfriend

you went through your gallery again, clicking on the picture you took a few days before and pressing send. seungcheol had to be away for a few days because of work and because you weren't part of his team, there was no reason for you to tag along. you had been feeling hornier than usual, needy even. so you decided that if you were missing your boyfriend to the point where your fingers could do nothing but make you even needier, he too could miss you a little bit. 

so you took pictures of yourself sprawled in his bed, wearing the red lingerie you knew he liked the most, and sent it to him. it took him a couple of hours to see it and it was so long that you started to think that maybe it had been a bad idea and that though he was someone who enjoyed foreplay there were things that he wasn't willing to do. 

to your surprise and delight, he was more into it than you expected. 

after that, if you were feeling pretty enough, you'd take pictures and randomly send them to him. 

cheol you know i love it but, can you stop sending me nudes? i'm at work  we're at work

you okay ;)

you send him a different picture, this time one he had taken the night before, of your reflection in the mirror while you rode him. 

you smiled at your phone before setting it down, happy with yourself. seungcheol looked almost pained as he turned his attention back to the meeting, nodding his head every now and then, but his eyes continued to move back to his phone. 

he couldn't really believe what you had done, though you weren't the shiest woman he had ever met, for you there had always been certain boundaries you refused to cross. he couldn't help but wonder if you had gotten jealous enough to do that, send him pictures while he was in a room filled with people. had the client had gone a little further you would have barged into the room ready for a fight? 

his hard on was a little uncomfortable, and yes he crossed his legs in order to hide it, but it was extremely hard to keep the smile away from his face.

"i'm sure we can make the adjustments for next week, can't we seungcheol?" his boss suddenly said.

seungcheol cleared his throat and adjusted himself on the chair. 

"yes, i can finish it by friday next week

"great!" the woman said in her high pitched tone. 

seungcheol took a discreet deep breath to keep himself from rolling his eyes. 

he didn't know how you even thought that he could be interested in her, or if anything at all even went through your brain. the client was objectively pretty but everything else about her didn't do much for him. and she crossed one too many lines during the meeting. seungcheol made it a point to keep quiet for the day but there was no way he would stand another meeting with the woman. he would still work on the project but the ceo could handle her by himself, something told him he would be happy to.

"i was thinking that maybe we could all go for lunch," she started.

seungcheol stood up, shaking his head. he pulled the folder from the desk and held it in front of himself. the sight was ridiculous and he could picture you laughing in his head.

"i have a lot of work to catch up on, i'll have to pass on it"

the polite thing to do would be to shake her hand but seungcheol wanted to get away as fast as possible so once the ceo nodded at him, he turned on his heels and left the meeting room. 

he went straight to your desk. you smiled while looking down and at the mere sight of you, his cock twitched like he was a fucking teenager that had never seen a woman before. 

"yn, i need you at the archive room. now"

at the sound of his voice, you looked up. your smile melted away and you wore the usual serious face whenever seungcheol was around. 

he hated it, the fact that you had to hide your relationship. he wanted everyone to know that you were his, and then maybe all the stupid men in the office would stop trying to ask you out. 

"why?" you asked, your tone bored. 

"because you were the last one to go through the files and i need help" he matched your bored tone. 

wonwoo laughed, making seungcheol turn to him. he raised his eyebrows, a silent question thrown at the man sitting in front of you. wonwwo just shook his head, his smile suddenly gone. he turned to you, eyebrows still raised. 

you sighed and followed him. your heels clicking on the floor while you followed him three steps behind. 

was the archive room always that far away?

"what do you need?" you asked, tone still bored, when the room came into view. 

seungcheol opened the door for you and followed you inside, locking the door behind him. 

when you turned to look at him you smiled at him, your arms crossed over your chest. he threw the folder he used to cover himself to the side and put his hands on his waist. you watched in complete amazement and laughed when you noticed the bulge in his pants. 

"awn, did you like the pictures that much?" your voice was taunting. 

seungcheol took three steps closer to you and pulled your hand, putting it over his cock. just that was almost enough to get a moan out of him. 

the second he saw the picture of you over him, his dick deep inside your pussy, it was all he could think about. having you again, as fast as possible was his only concern. 

"there are cameras in here," you said, your eyes wide while you looked around, lightly pulling your hand away from his grasp. 

"there isn't"  

at his words, you opened the zipper of his pants just enough to push your hands into his boxers. you wrapped your hand around his cock and ran your thumbs over his tip, pumping him a couple of times. you smiled when a quick shudder ran over him. 

seungcheol grabbed your face and pulled you to him, his lips crashing over yours. he pushed his tongue through your lips, taking control. his hands moved down to your neck, squeezing it softly. 

"my little menace," he said "what did you think was going to happen, hm?"

he pulled your skirt up until it was pooled around your waist and pushed you until your back was pressed against the wall.

"you wanted me to walk out of that room and fuck you, over your desk?"

you moaned at the thought, though in your ideal world, none of your coworkers would be around to witness it. seungcheol turned you around and forced your legs apart with his feet while holding one of your arms behind your back. you used your free hand to steady yourself on the wall. 

"if you don't ask, i'm not going to fuck you, baby" 

it was something seungcheol often relished on, the fact that he could make you beg. you were so quiet, so shy, but he always made you say it, implore for it. 

"you're the one with a hard on, sweetheart" you teased. if he thought that you were going to beg this time too, he was wrong "i can go back to work as if nothing happened"

you really couldn't. if you did it was going to be the worst work day for you because the only thing you could possibly think about was the fact that your boyfriend had a hard on because of you and you said no when he wanted to fuck you. 

seungcheol shoved your panties aside and pushed himself into you. he groaned as your walls sucked him in. you moaned at the feeling of being full, at being stretched out to fit him. he moved relentlessly, his pace almost cruel as he searched for his release. 

"jesus, cheol..." a loud moan left your lips as you were suddenly pressed on the wall. 

"you have to be quiet, baby" you could feel his smirk on your neck "everyone will hear you"

seungcheol snaked his arm around your waist, and his fingers worked your clit with the same drive as his hips moved. he was a madman and you loved every single piece of him. you covered your mouth with your hand, your eyes shut close, in a pathetic attempt to be quiet. even if your moans couldn't be heard, there was no way people wouldn't hear the sound of his hips on your yours. 

"you’re going to be filled with cum" he whispered, his free hand grabbing your neck, tilting your head back "running down your thighs the entire day"

seungcheol pinched your clit and it was enough to throw you over the edge. this time you were able to swallow your moan. you pressed your hands on the wall, trying to steady yourself, as your legs shook. seungcheol was quick to follow, your walls clenching around him like a vice as he pounded into you again and again. 

he used your shoulder to quiet his own moan and heavy breath.

"just so you know, this wasn't my intention," you said once you were able to breathe again.

seungcheol laughed and took a step back as he adjusted his shirt and pants.

"no?"

you rolled your eyes and leaned on the wall.

"maybe later, at your place" you gave in

he laughed and pulled your skirt down while you buttoned his shirt. 

"well, it's only noon"

taglist: @wonwooz1, @mirtaspace, @feat-sun, @belladaises, @immabecreepin, @miriamxsworld, @aaniag, @byunparklimchoi, @k-drama-adict, @@maiamorrrrrrrrrrrr, @roguesthetic, @sofix-hc7, @moonlightgrleric, @mixling-blog, @haowonbins, @valgracia, @slut4donghyuck, @manutuankim, @shuabby1994, @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan, @sukiscones

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[villainousauthor]

Hero's hands clutched the bouquet of roses with a grip strong enough to snap the thorny stems as they opened the trashcan.

Without so much as a ceremonial look, they dumped the offending red flowers quickly, shoving them down.

This was the third bouquet to show up on their doorstep in the past week, even more elaborate than the last two. It seems Villain was trying every combination of flowers until they figured out Hero's favorite.

Hero's nose curls in disgust. People were dying and suffering in the streets because of Villain's tyranny, and yet they sent Hero petty gifts like a lover or admirer.

It must be another way to taunt them, to mess with their head. Another way to show that Villain knows where they live, could leave anything at their doorstep any time they want. There's no guarantee Hero won't come home to find Villain themselves on their door, lethal smile on their face, weapon behind their back.

Biting back the fear, Hero refuses to react to any of these displays. Each bouquet left at their home is quickly and methodically disposed of, as if without a thought.

Of course, this feigned indifference only spurs Villain on even more. Soon, the gifts are being left daily, as if begging for a reaction. Hero can feel the increasing agitation in Villain's actions. More flowers, jewels, trinkets, and baubles. All in the trash. It's only a matter of time before something has to give, but Hero refuses to give in.

More gifts, punctuated by more violence in the city. A pretty necklace that catches the light ever so, followed by an entire neighborhood reduced to ash. Different flowers this time, more pointless deaths.

After one particularly long day spent pulling more people out of rubble, they return home to see the front door completely bare. A first in weeks. For just a moment they feel hopeful that maybe Villain had gotten bored, hope that is quickly squashed when they enter their home.

Every surface, window, shelf, or tabletop in their home is lined with large blossoming flowers. Orchids this time. Hundreds of them, the room is filled with the fragrant smell. Villain is escalating, showing Hero there's no true barrier stopping Villain from coming after them whenever they choose.

Their phone rings, breaking Hero out of their stupor. It's an unknown number, but they already know who it is, a deep, uncomfortable feeling swirling in their gut, the hairs on their neck raised. Still, they find themselves answering anyways.

Villain's voice crackles through the screen, low and amused.

"So what do you think of my gift? Are orchids your flower of choice, or are these going into the trash as well?"

Hero forgets how to speak for a moment, floundering to come up with a response. Villain doesn't give them a moment, continuing to speak in that same saccharine tone.

"You know, the color of flowers holds meaning, red orchids in particular-"

"I don't give a shit about the meaning." Finally finding their voice, Hero cuts them off suddenly. "How'd you even get into my house?" They try to keep their voice steady, even.

Tsking through the other side, Villain completely ignores their question. "You should care. Do you think the gifts I send have no significance?"

"The significance is obviously to upset me." Hero rolls their eyes as they speak, despite the fear in their stomach. They wring their hands, wanting to hang up, but something stops them. "To scare me, threaten me."

Villain sighs, voice sounding particularly raspy through the line. "You really are so foolish if you think that's what this is about." They speak in a low rumble as they continue. "Have I not been ardent enough in my affections?"

Hero's stomach is a mess of warmth and anxiety. They feel a pinch of pain as they dig their fingernails into their palms. They take a steadying breath before speaking again.

"Stop pretending there's any point to this other than to intimidate. Stop pretending you're some lovesick admirer." They bite, ending the call before Villain can come up with another retort. Before they can cause more confusion in Hero's mind.

Moving with efficency, Hero begins to grab as many vases as possible, to shove them into the trash, as many will fit. They pause though, upon the largest bouquet on the table.

There's a note attached, wrapped around it with silky ribbon. With a shaking hand, Hero reaches for the note, opening with a sense of dread.

There, written in sickening, half dried blood, is simple line.

I love you.

[xamag-draws]

BBR thoughts 2024

Since I mentioned that I finally dusted off an old project of mine and was ruminating on how I'd remake it, I thought I'd elaborate a little, now that I've solidified some concepts. For funsies

This is gonna be a bit of a long and unfocused one, but I don't share my personal thoughts here often, especially the stuff about my projects I always marinate in. And for once it's something that people have existing context for, so hey why not

So for anyone who hasn't been following me for a gajillion years, The Black Brick Road of OZ was a webcomic that I posted around 2013-2015, back when I was in highschool going on college (which is kinda crazy to think about). It was sort of a darker twist on The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, although I definitely leaned a lot more into dark humor more than anything in those first few chapters

I don't think it's available to read anywhere anymore, and I know people have been asking me about it. So here's the full proper archive of BBR, as full as it can be with deceased Flash

I totally used it as an excuse to shamelessly and self-indulgently experiment. It had interactive pages and GIFs and was wayyy too overproduced for what I could handle or what was necessary, but I did have great fun making it while it lasted

Unfortunately, that excess and the fact that I've changed too much as a person by the time I was in college is what ultimately killed it. The direction I wanted to go in was practically unrecognizable from the original idea started back in 2011, so there were many old hold-ups that I felt ruined it

At the time I kinda wished I could start/rewrite it all over, but considering that I pretty much had the entire script done at that point, it felt like a pointless sisyphean task. So I just put it on a shelf and didn't look back for about 8 years, because I didn't know what else to do

Now to be fair, the nature of my art has always been iterative and cyclical; when I feel like my creative juices have run dry I prefer to leave a project to marinate and move on to something else; cycle through other old things and bring in new skills and perspectives into the mix when I'm ready again. Not very productive, but it is what makes me happy to work on my OCs; I'm doomed to hit a wall with them eventually and I need some time to be able to find a new direction

So that said, I'm glad that BBR was left to marinate for that long. I don't think I was prepared, emotionally or intellectually, to tackle it again until now. The Wizard of Oz book (and the entire series of them, really) has always been near and dear to my heart, but there's a lot of context around it that I'm only unpacking now that I'm older

I think I always inherently feel negatively about the stuff I've made in the past, like its faults always jump out to me more than the positives, especially the more time passes. I've never liked that, and I do really appreciate the kind things people have to say about BBR to this day. The fact that it still can be recognized and remembered is very sweet

When I left it, I already found it "kinda cringe", and that feeling only deepened with years. When I took my first look back at it, asking the question "how would I rewrite it now?", at first I took a very cynical approach, as in "everything would have to be torn down"

But the more I sat on it, the more I found that I still see some merit and charm in the ideas I was putting out; I just didn't know how to execute them at the time (not to pretend that I know what I'm doing now, but I certainly know more at least). Turns out a lot of my old concepts could be changed substantially with just a few small tweaks. So I'd say that's a nicer way to think about my previous work

If you haven't seen yet, I posted a first draft of my new designs for some of the characters (the main group, the Goods and the Wickeds). Definitely subject to change, but more or less how I see them now

I'm just playing with these concepts; by no means would I attempt to remake BBR right this moment. Call it a pipe dream among my other ones. But just for fun, this is the direction I'd like to take:

Nowadays I'd probably make it a visual novel, with more emphasis on the visual part than the novel because I'm no English prose writer by any means. It'd still let me play a little with the interactivity while helping cut some corners on the drawing part (only some, I imagine I'd go hog wild anyway)

I've always intended for some events inspired by the sequel books to take place in BBR's past. Stuff like Jinjur's revolt or Ozma's rule preceeds the main events here. So I think it would be fun to follow the past of a few key characters alongside the main story. One chapter focusing on the present quest to see the Wizard, then one focusing on the past events (that are maybe reflective thematically); rinse and repeat

I'm also sticking a little closer to the original text in some regards. Not everything that I enjoy from the books would be translated here, it's still just a very loose fantasy on the material; but I'd like to be closer in spirit at least

I like mature, wise and powerful Glinda, I like kind and vulnerable Tin Man, I like the Wizard being a pathetic yet loveable liar, so I'm sprinkling in more of that for example

I'd like to keep some whimsy, but make it more grounded and a bit more serious to be coherent in tone. I think the original TWWOOZ book was a more realistic fantasy in some ways, even for the standards of the time; I like its simple but vivid tactile descriptions and details like bringing attention that Dorothy needed to eat and sleep

I find it funny that Baum specifically was averse to making his books scary or unpleasant, finding that unnecessary for telling a compelling kids story, but they still can get pretty dark and disturbing, at least for our modern sensibilities. Let's just say that I intend to use the Evoldo and Chopfyt storylines for my purposes. In that way, I feel like a "darker" Wizard of Oz retelling can still mostly be tonally in line with the original and balance it with enough heart and occasional humor

I slowly grew to appreciate the quaint old-timey quality of the original series, as well. The first book is both timeless and very much a product of the 1900s. Originally I tried to give it a little modern or at least anachronistic spin, but it was moreso because it's what I knew best, so these days I'd rather intentionally lean into the time period. Still not fully historically accurate by any means, but at least directly acknowledging the influence

The events of the story span across 40 years of these characters' lives, so I'm drawing inspiration from the entire so-called La Belle Epoque: the time period around 1880s-1920s. Basically I'm cooking, and my soup is old Victorian fashion morphing into Edwardian fashion and slowly inching towards flappers

Some new Dolly outfits

Lots of crazy things, political changes and innovations were happening at the turn of the century, which I think is noted and reflected by Baum in the books as well; the character of Tik-Tok might not blow any minds now, but he was one of the first robot characters in literature at that point; and don't even get me started on Jinjur, etc. Plenty of really interesting stuff one could lightly ponder in an Oz adaptation these days

Aesthetically, art nouveau has always been a big artistic influence for me, and it'd definitely be its time to shine here. John R. Neill's illustrations of the Oz books often keep me company as well. Nouveau architecture in particular fits that fairytale whimsy extremely well imo

I'd allow myself a little bit of art deco here and there, but ultimately its intimidating geometrical splendor is an antithetical to the flowery nature of nouveau and I associate it with a completely different era. Definitely fitting some characters like my Wicked Witch of the West, but shouldn't be overused

One of my main problems with the original BBR was that eventually I lost track of what it was even about; and the original ending felt too mean and unfulfilling to be worth it. Now I'd like to stick to the theme of home and family as my main theme, but in a different, more bittersweet way than in the book

An interesting connection I made is that a lot of my aforementioned older key characters (the Witches, Jinjur, the Nome King, etc) all came from the same reformatory as kids, that's how they know each other. In my recent research I learned that in those reformatories it was usually frowned upon to release the children back to the families, which were seen as the original corrupting influence regardless of the circumstance. The reformatory did everything in its power to cut that connection and make itself the only family those wayward kids were supposed to know and love. That's an unexpected tie into the theme of home that I'd like to explore as well

So yeah that's the current state of it. I have a bunch of outfit concepts I'm slowly cooking, although I'm now sure whether I'd post them... But I do miss these funny guys, and I'm glad some people still do as well :)

[peppermintquartz]

stuck in an elevator

Someone with a sick sense of humor must be writing my life, because a benevolent God sure as hell would never plan this, Tommy thinks in his bitchiest mental tone. Then he snorts. As if anyone would be interested enough to write a single paragraph about him.

The other occupant of the elevator pointedly does not look at him. Evan Buck keeps his tone so neutral, it's almost robotic. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing. I mean, of all the places in Los Angeles to visit on a day off, we end up at LACMA together. And now we're stuck in the same elevator. What are the odds?" The ludicrously serendipitous nature of this encounter is keeping Tommy from other, less-pleasant thoughts, namely being trapped in a space without a view of the outside world. His pulse is starting to race.

They tried calling 911, but the signal in the elevator was poor. Thankfully the emergency intercom did connect to the museum's operations office, who has contacted emergency services.

"I should've taken the stairs," Tommy grumbles. His skin itches with the need to feel fresh air.

"With that boot on your ankle? Then you're dumber than I thought you were." Evan Buck finally glances over, his blue eyes scanning him from head to toe. "How did you injure yourself anyway?"

"Tripped when I was getting out of the bird," Tommy replies honestly.

Evan Buck scoffs and shakes his head, but his expression softens. "You doing okay otherwise?"

There are so many ways Tommy can answer. He can pretend he is perfectly okay. Somewhat okay. He can claim that he misses Evan Buck, but he wants to be friends, just friends. He can be flippant. Make it funny, keep things superficial.

But this is Evan asking him.

"I miss you like a heartbeat" is what comes out instead. And it's true - Tommy feels like an automaton, moving through time, his routines carrying him along from dawn till dusk.

Entire days going by without a single text from Evan Buck feel empty and pointless. The bedsheets need to be laundered but Tommy doesn't want to lose the final traces of the last time they slept in the same bed. There are books Evan Buck brought over to read when Tommy wants to watch a movie.

And now they are stuck together, in an enclosed metal box, and Tommy is trying not to think about that while also trying not to think about how much he wants to kiss Evan. So he vacillates between a bone-deep phobia and a bone-deep yearning.

"I'm sorry. That was too heavy to lay on you like that." His fingers are clammy where his palms are on the mirrored wall. Licking his lips, he says, "But I don't want to lie to you. Not about anything. But I'm good otherwise, Evan."

"I'm not." Evan inhales deeply and blows out his breath. "I'm... I'm baking every time I think about texting you or calling you. The loft smells like a goddamn bakery. And still, still I can't forget the way you smell, the way you sound, the way you fucking taste. I want - I want so badly - to turn back time, figure out what I said wrong that made you run from me. Maybe I wanna be mad at you. I don't know. But I'm not good, Tommy. I'm not gonna be good for a long time."

"I'm sorry," Tommy begins, but Evan cuts him off.

"I don't want you to be sorry," he snaps, and to Tommy's shame, his eyes well up with tears. "I want you to be mine. I want to be yours. I want... I want us, together. That's what I want. I don't wanna be good, I don't want you to be sorry, I want us to be happy together, that's all I fucking want!"

The silence that falls between them is thick as concrete.

His hands and feet are cold now, and he thinks he is a little dizzy. Gulping down a breath, Tommy says, "I shouldn't have run. It was... I was afraid. That... that you'd see me and everything I'm not."

This is when Evan sighs and turns to face him. "I should've chased after you. I was afraid too. I moved too fast, I know now. But you running away and ghosting me after was a dick move."

"I guess we both have a lot to work through." Tommy manages a tight smile. He is starting to feel lightheaded, and his breathing is picking up pace despite his best efforts to stay calm and distract himself with Evan's presence. His hands are clammy and he tries to wipe them dry on his jeans. "Evan?"

"Tommy?"

"How long before 911 arrives?" Tommy's mouth is dry. His vision sparks and he is valiantly trying to hold on to his composure, but he feels like he's boiling in his dark blue henley; he needs air, he needs the sky, he needs space to flee-

"Tommy!" Evan is right next to him, keeping him from collapsing and hurting himself. His touch grounds Tommy in the present moment, and his face this close blocks out the sight of the metal coffin they are stuck in. "They'll be here soon, okay? It's all good, they'll be here soon. Breathe for me, come on, inhale , two, three, four; hold, two. three, four..."

Evan talks him through the breathing exercises, holding him up and against himself, all the way even after the elevator lurches back to life and delivers them to the next floor safely.

After he's helped out of the elevator, Tommy wretches and vomits all over the floor, some of the sick getting on Evan's nice shoes.

"Sorry," says Tommy, eyes tearing from the force of the nausea, his big frame trembling.

"They're just shoes," says Evan, soothing a hand along his spine. To the attending paramedic, he says, "He has mild claustrophobia. Not usually a problem, but we were in there a while."

Tommy follows the paramedic - Jefferson - to a bench, accepting a quick look-over. To his surprise, Evan stays with him. Jefferson doesn't see anything wrong other than shock and leaves them with a blanket when another call comes in, about some old man and a broken hip.

Tommy finally recovers after about twenty minutes. He smiles wryly at Evan. "Sorry. You don't have to stick around, there's a lot to see in LACMA."

"Tough luck chasing me off," says Evan. There's a determined set to his jaw.

"Evan, I mean, Buck, surely you have other places to go."

"First of all, I hate hearing you call me Buck. Second of all, I'm not going anywhere. I know exactly what I want, and I'm pretty sure I know what you want."

"Yeah? What do I want?"

"To be my forever," says Evan. He looks Tommy in the eye. "And I know enough about myself and relationships, a-and love, to say that I want you to be my forever too. So. Hah. I'm sticking around. Sucks to be you."

Tommy huffs out an amused and exasperated breath. "Still a brat."

"Yeah? Well, you can either put up with me, or you can do something about it." But there's no hiding the curl of his lips.

[soft-beams]

hiii! i read your fic about reader x vi where the reader passes and omg it broke my heart so…for the sake of my sanity! can we have a pt 2 where it expands on the days afterwards and how vi grieves ! alsooo if you could maybe a time skip where vi either moves on (that girl would NEVER) or she stays single until she herself eventually passes :(( anyway thank u sm!

hello! first off, thank you for reading my fic, and i'm sorry to have broken your heart 🥺 i just had that idea rolling around in my head, and i couldn't help myself. ;-; but i'd be more than happy to do a pt 2 where we look into how vi copes (she Does Not Cope).

tw//mention of character death (reader), vi x f!reader

part 1

--------

Life instantly becomes meaningless after you die. It's as if the world is void of colour, leaving everything in shades of grey.

It's horribly depressing, but it makes sense. You were what gave her world meaning, you were what give her world beauty and now...you weren't there anymore.

So what was the point of anything?

She slips into drinking again, heavy liquors that numb the pain and made the grey world go away. She's angry, she's fury as she punches anyone who dares look at her for even a second too long. She's tired, exhausted and all she wants to do is sleep. But sleep isn't kind, it eludes her and when she's able to catch it, all she sees behind her eyes is you.

You laughing.

You smiling.

You holding her close and telling her everything is going to be alright.

You.

"You can't continue on like this," Caitlyn says, having appeared at Vi's door five minutes ago. She's a concerned friend, her brow furrowed with worry. "You...this isn't what she would want." She struggles for a second to find the right words. "She'd want you to heal and find some sort of peace and—"

"You think I don't know that, Cait?" Vi interrupts and she sounds exhausted. Her voice is hoarse, dry from thirst and sucking in too deep breaths when she cries. "You don't think I know she wouldn't want this for me?" She gestures around herself, at the mess of her small apartment and the mess that is herself. "I...try so hard to even get up in the morning but it feels so fucking pointless because she isn't here when I open my eyes."

Something akin to pity flickers through Caitlyn's eyes as she watches Vi slump down onto her bed, her head in her hands.

"I loved her for so long," Vi murmurs. "Since I was thirteen and didn't even know what love was." She lifts her head to stare at the ceiling. "And when I finally gathered up the courage to confess to her at sixteen, I was so happy when she returned my feelings." A weak smile curves her lips as she lowers her head, looking right at Caitlyn. "We had plans. We talked about how we were going to leave this place and explore the world. See what we could bring back to Zaun to make it better. We were going to take Powder so she could finally fly on one to those airships and..." Vi trails off, going quiet.

Caitlyn finds herself at a loss for words, unable to compile what she feels for Vi into speech. She knows how grief feels. She's more than aware of how it crushes and consumes you. When her mother died, she didn't know what she was going to do. How she was going to cope when someone so important to her was gone.

She can relate to Vi to some extent but to lose someone you loved with your entire heart, soul and mind...

Caitlyn very slowly makes her way over to Vi and sits beside her. Then she places a careful hand on her shoulder and says, "I'll never be able to fully grasp how you're feeling, and I won't pretend to even try. But...think of her and ask yourself if this is how she'd want you to waste your days."

Vi thinks about it, lets Caitlyn's words dance around in her head before you appear in her mind's eye.

"I'd be real pissed if you just laying about doing nothing," you say, frowning with your arms crossed. "I mean, I'm glad you love me enough to wallow so hard but fuck, Vi."

Vi laughs wetly, tears already forming in her eyes as she stares at you, wistful.

"Shut up," she mumbles before her chest is shuddering with heavy breaths, a thick sob leaving her throat. "I just...I just miss you so much. You weren't, fuck, you weren't supposed to leave."

Your frown turns into a sad smile, and you look away, as if trying to hide your own tears.

"I know, honey, I know," you reply, words thick on your tongue. "And I'm so sorry for leaving you, you know that, right?"

Vi nods, wiping away still falling tears.

"But I don't want you to live this way, sweetheart," you tell her. "Fighting every day and getting shitfaced. I thought we were past this after your pitfigher phase."

That pulls a genuine laugh from Vi, with a snort and all, as she cackles. That has you laughing too, your grin wide and toothy, and God, you're so beautiful.

Even in death.

"I'm losing my mind, aren't I?" Vi says as she looks up at you, and you move your head to the left and right before shrugging.

"Maybe a little bit, but that's fine," you reply before leaning in close, and Vi sighs desperately as your foreheads touch. "But you've never been truly sane."

Vi reaches for you and swears she can feel the warmth of your skin beneath her fingertips.

"I love you," Vi rasps, eyes closed tight as she holds you close.

"I love you too," you mumur, and Vi feels your hands smooth over her cheeks. "So do me a favour and try and be happy, okay? Go outside and do something that isn't reckless drinking and violence. And take a damn shower, you're gross."

Vi snorts, smiling. "No promises."

"Idiot." Your voice is loving and fond as it slowly disappears in an echo.

"...Vi?" Caitlyn's voice replaces yours and it's here that Vi smiles, albeit sad but a little bit happier.

"Yeah, this isn't how she'd want me to waste my days," Vi replies before slapping her knees and standing up from the bed. "I'm gonna take a shower and...maybe we can do something?"

Caitlyn stares at her for a second before smiling.

"Yeah, of course we can."

That's my girl, Vi hears in your voice as she goes to the bathroom, and that gives her the extra push she needs.

[cyberrose2001]

Can we pretty please have some angsty fluff?

Maybe Optimus Prime from TFP returning to Earth because he missed his s/o. (Let's pretend RID never existed. Please.) Maybe he left on a bad note and they told him that they'd never forgive him. And once he's back, she's completely ignoring him and she's trying her best to avoid him at all costs

You can choose what to do in the end. I want to see your mind wander :DD

Unforgiven Goodbyes

TFP Optimus x human! gn! reader

whoops

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of injury/blood, mental struggles, just straight-up angst.

Word count: 2,475

You're pissed off. No, you're more than pissed off. A tangle of emotions that would take a lifetime to detangle in your mind. You are pissed off, heartbroken, angry, yet excruciatingly relieved to see him.

But you can't bring yourself to face him again. That beautiful, other-worldly sculpted face seems to torment you whenever you close your eyes. That moment when he looked back at you before he plunged himself into the Well of Allsparks, the look of apologetic heroicness. It burned into your brain and left a nasty scab that you can't help but pick at. But the scar has healed. You've disciplined yourself to stop scratching it, but watching him walk through the hangar doors ripped it open once again.

You've distracted yourself as much as you can. Doing pointless chores around the new base the bots have made themselves at home with, going for long walks outside by yourself, hiding around every corner when you hear that rumbling voice. You tried everything to keep the wound closed, to pretend that he's still dead, to justify all the mourning you've gone through all these years.

Another reason not to face him was how you reacted when he told you his plan. You were the first to know, and you've never felt your heart sink so fast. It was like he had struck a dagger to your stomach and kissed you as you were bleeding out. You had exploded with anger you couldn't control and stormed out before he could do anything about it. You screamed at him as he collapsed onto his knees that you would never forgive him, and so far, you've kept that promise. The next time you saw him was before he made his great sacrifice, and you had nothing else to say to him. You couldn't say anything else.

And you won't for a long time, not when you have headphones on to block out the world. You stand at the sink in the human kitchen. It's semi-exposed to the main base, with a half-wall shielding the stove and sink. You're not sure why it's exposed; it must be concerning the lack of rooms in this old military bunker. You don't care anyway. You only care about scrubbing the dishes beyond clean and slamming them onto the drying rack before you break the delicate ceramic plates from gripping them too hard.

While cleaning the dishes, you don't realise how much of a racket you're making with your music blasting and capture the attention of the one bot you were trying to avoid.

Optimus.

He looks at you curiously, a hint of longing in his optics. Optimus knows you're avoiding him, and it's so blatantly obvious that everyone notices, too, creating tension through the base you could cut with a sharp enough knife. He wants to talk to you. He needs to talk to you. And so far, this is the only opportunity he's stumbled upon that could make it possible. Though, he doesn't want to frighten you and scare you away. He needs to be gentle and cautious in his actions, but it's difficult when you can't hear or see him.

Optimus reaches out, his servo twitching at how gentle he's trying to be. He touches your shoulder with a single digit but retracts his servo quickly when you jump out of your skin and drop a plate on the floor, shattering the ceramic in all different directions.

You scream then seethe, ripping your headphones off to face whoever dares to lay a finger on you, "Why the fuck would you-"

Frozen in your tracks, you stare at Optimus, the longest you've looked at him in a long time. Your heart snaps in two again, and the wound in your mind festers with flashbacks before you try to make a run for it. You don't get far, though, before you step on a piece of broken ceramic and cry out in pain.

"Ah!" You fall back on the ground, clutching your lower leg, "Fuck it-"

"Y/n, I am so sorr-"

"N-No!" You practically spit in his face. You let go of your leg and scramble backwards into a corner. With nowhere else to go, you turn to face him again and watch how his grip tightens on the railing before him. If looks could kill, Optimus would still be dead. Maybe you secretly hoped it was possible, "Get away from me."

"Please, you're hurt," Optimus looks down at your bare foot, now bleeding heavily onto the floor from a deep gash.

You furrow your eyebrows at him, not giving a damn that you're bleeding. You've been through worse, after all, "Oh, so now you care?"

Optimus tilts his helm, "What? I have always cared-"

"Oh really? You're really going to do this, Optimus?" You growl, grabbing the bench above you to pull yourself up, "You didn't seem to care about me when you sacrificed yourself! No, scratch that," You point a bloody finger at him, "When you fucking abandoned me!"

Optimus's shoulders sink, his grip on the railing relaxing as he feels like you've plunged a knife into him, "I did not-" He sighs heavily, like he cannot find the words, "Please... let us get you to Ratchet."

"I don't need his or- or your help," You hobble on one foot, hissing in pain as you make your way to anywhere else on the planet. The blood smears on the floor with every misguided step as you pass by him with a cold shoulder, "I've managed just fine on my own, Prime." You sneer at him.

Optimus watches you hop down the stairs, and he slumps his frame down on the railing. His vocaliser rumbles with regret and pain at how you're treating him. And it's not like he can blame you. Optimus would probably be stricken with the same grief if a lover of his decided to sacrifice themselves; he'd be absolutely distraught. And all that distraught just for them to return like it was a mere week-long vacation? Well, he wasn't sure what he'd do. He thought you would be overjoyed and run up to him with that beautiful smile on your lips, perhaps even beg for one of those joyrides he always loved taking you on through the desert. He thought you would've missed him, the bare minimum for someone who has lost a loved one.

Optimus sighs and lifts his helm from the railing before turning on his pedes to look for something else to distract him from you. He looks down before he takes a step and sees your trail of smeared blood on the concrete. His optic ridges furrow, a look of determination and apprehension as he steps to follow your crimson breadcrumbs out of the hangar doors.

Before he reaches the hangar doors, a soft touch plants itself on his shoulder, and he jolts slightly. Optimus turns his helm down to see a gloomy look on Ratchet's face, his servo squeezing his shoulder comfortingly.

"Let them go, Optimus," He speaks softly, "They need some space."

Space is the only thing he's given them so far.

-

"Stupid fucking dishes. Stupid me. Stupid him."

Your fingers tremble as you rip some of your shirt off to wrap around the gash in your foot. The minor hit of adrenaline quickly left you like a hit of nic as soon as you slumped down on the other side of the hangar outside. The dull throbbing turns into sharp pain as you tighten the fabric, causing a small whimper to leave your throat. You relax your head against the concrete wall behind you, wishing you could slam it against it instead. But anger slowly drains from your frame, and you bury your face into your dirty hands, and you sob—a heartbreaking sight to anyone that were to stumble upon you.

But you find that the tears weren't mourning from him, but for yourself.

How selfish are you? Are you so dense in the head that you're blindsighted to how much he loves you? How much Optimus missed you that even after facing the hereafter, he came back for you? How awful must the afterlife be for him to want to come back to you, of all people? These questions come flooding into your mind with every tear-jerking sob that wracks your body. But the one question at the forefront of your mind terrifies you, making you want to slump further into the self-deprecating aura you've swallowed yourself in.

Do you still love him?

You bite your lip hard. Do you still love him? That's a stupid question to ask yourself. Of course you still love him. You wouldn't be the person you are today if you never did.

Then why the fuck do you push him away?

You don't know. Maybe it was how you spoke to him before he took his own spark, being so ashamed of yourself that you could barely look at him. Or perhaps you've become too comfortable in your new adjustment to life without him, and for that to all come crumbling down so suddenly with no warning has shaken you to your core.

That's very selfish of you.

You know that. You've always known that.

Maybe you just weren't ready to let go.

A deep, trembling breath leaves your parted lips.

...

Yeah, you know.

-

Optimus stealthily follows the trail once again after Ratchet leaves. He just can't walk away after that encounter. And as much as it hurts him to see your reaction, he must ensure you're okay despite whatever you spit in his face. Optimus did not beg at the throne of Primus himself for another chance at nothing. He needs to make amends, no matter how much of a fight you put up at your wishes to be left alone.

Soft steps of his pedes lead him on a wild goose chase. It seemed as if you had stumbled around in circles for quite some time, the trail of blood looping around before overlapping itself to follow the edge of the hangar. Optimus become increasingly concerned about your welfare, worried you have lost too much blood. But he knows that you are tough if all these years on your own have anything to show for it.

His pace replaces stealth for hastiness as he continues on the trail, rounding the next corner of the hanger. He stops in his tracks when he sees you, and his eyes soften with pure broken-heartness. His servos clenching in regret.

He carefully approaches your slumped frame and stands before you. He first notices your foot, half bandaged and leaking slightly. You weren't wrong after all. You could take care of yourself. He smiles softly to himself at this.

Optimus carefully kneels in front of you, still a fair distance away. All he wants to do is pick you up and tell you that everything is alright, that he's here and not ready to leave again anytime soon.

He keeps his servos to himself for now.

"Y/n," Optimus begins softly, "I know you are upset," This seems like an all too familiar conversation, "And you have every right to be."

No reaction from you so far, a few sobs and hiccups. His spark clenches.

"I did not get a chance to tell you how truly thankful I am for you," Optimus continues, fidgeting with a digit in his lap, "How I still reminisce on our long-forgotten time together, even whilst I was merged with the All Spark."

Optimus takes a chance. He shuffles closer to you and gently pries your hands from your face like you were a pretty piece of wrapping paper he wanted to keep. His optics drag over your sodden face, how your eyes begin to focus on his. It wasn't the fiery look of anger he had seen just earlier but one that looked of surrender; you had given up a fight he wished he could've helped you with.

Optimus moves one servo from your hands to gently caress your face, a gentle digit brushing over your cheeks, "My, just look at you," He cups your chin softly, tilting your head to look up at him, "You are still as beautiful as ever."

He watches as the tears well in your eyes again, a small glimmer in your eyes that's more familiar to him than the dull. You grip his servo and pull it into a hug, resting your forehead on his wrist, and you cry.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry...I-I'm stupid... I shouldn't have..." You sob, clutching onto him with every fibre of your being, "Oh god..."

Optimus's spark fizzles and cracks at your heart-breaking apology and the tears dripping onto his servo. He gives you a sombre look before carefully pulling you into his servos, picking you up to press you against his chassis to return his long-awaited affections.

"Shh," He hushes your cries, pressing a gentle kiss to your head as he rocks you softly like a slumbering sparkling, "It is alright; nothing you say could ever make me resent you."

You sniffle, burying your head into his chassis. His familiar scent of motor oil and fumes fills your senses and relaxes you deeper into him. You try to speak, to say anything other than hiccuping pathetically.

"I-" You stutter, ripping your face away from his chassis to stare up at him. A shaky hand reaches up to touch him, a tiny 'tink' as your fingernail grazes against his face plate. He's real, he's here, and he's not mad at you. And the best thing is, he forgives you.

And you forgive him.

"I missed you," You take a sharp breath, "I miss you so much."

Optimus' sombre frown turns into a small smile; a weight lifts off his frame at your admission. The worry he put himself through all seems to melt away as he presses a soft kiss to your lips, hoping to melt away your grief with the kiss along with his.

You gasp softly. Far too much time has passed since you've felt those gentle dermas meld into yours, and as much as the past you wanted to forget how his touches felt, you find yourself kissing him back with as much need and passion. A few fleeting moments pass before you're forced to part for a much-needed breath. It feels like life has returned to you, like after all this time without him you were holding your breath in fear of drowning.

Optimus closes his optics, softly pressing his forehead against yours, leaning into the warm touch of your hands that he oh so craved. He knows you still love him, he never once doubted that deep down inside you always did, even after he had regretfully abandoned you.

"I miss you too."

Finally. He felt good to say that.

[alastors-antlers]

I think this has been in a good number of fanworks already so I'm not exactly covering new ground here, but the idea of Lucifer helping Alastor with his angelic wound on behalf of Charlie never gets old to me.

Alastor continues to pretend that nothing is wrong until he just can't pretend anymore - is it exhaustion? Is it the fact that his injury is so obvious to literally everyone else that it'd be pointless to keep it up? You decide, but either way, he's forced into an intervention.

And then when Lucifer offers healing — because we can't have you dying on us, you idiot, he says, or really anything of the sort — Alastor refuses.

No! Certainly not. No, thank you.

What do you mean? You don't want healing? Do you want to die again? Because you're going to.

Don't mock me. Why are you here? What do you want from me?

Then Lucifer has to convince Alastor that there is, in fact, no catch. It's not a concession Lucifer seeks to hold over Alastor's head forever (not that Luci isn't free to do a bit of gloating); not a way for Lucifer to harm him under the guise of aid; not a favour for a blank cheque to be cashed in at a later date.

Finally, with no small amount of frustration or needling or "will you please just let me do this holy hell this is taking forever" on Lucifer's part, Alastor agrees.

And maybe when it's over, maybe he hates Lucifer just a little bit less than he did. Maybe Alastor trusts just a tiny bit more.

Seriously, you could write this a hundred times and I would probably read all of that. I'm a sucker for the setup, what can I say?

[bugsbia]

ʚ NSFW Alphabet with Scaramouche

ʚ BEFORE READING: Fem reader, Scara is pretty rough in this one since it's focused on Fatui era Scaramouche. Will probably also do a Wanderer and Kabukimono era versions. Also, to anyone who has sent a request, I will be getting to those <3

ʚ WARNINGS: Scara is distant and mean!! Just don't read this if you can't handle rough kinks<3

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Scaramouche does not like his aftercare, he thinks it's another pointless human ritual that he see's no point in, human emotions are truly pointless to him, as is their comfort. He'd much rather just fuck your brains out then go back to do his own thing without a word being exchanged afterwards, truly you're just a toy for him to use when he can't hold back anymore, or at least that's what he tries to convince himself.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of your body)

He doesn't have a specific favourite, he just prefers whatever is most sensitive since he can use that to torture you. Whatever it is, your nipples, your thighs, even if it's your throat, he'll use it against you. He'll bite you, slap you, do whatever he can to watch you squirm beneath him.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

He avoids cumming inside of you, he's not sure if he can get you pregnant since he's a puppet but he doesn't want to risk it. he doesn't need some sort of pregnancy scandal because that would not only tie him to someone but it would also cause problems within his job. But he'll gladly cum on your face, he can't deny the satisfaction he feels when he see's your fucked out face covered in his cum.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

His dirty little secret is that he actually thinks your moans are like music to his ears, just so perfect that it drives him crazy, ESPEICALLY when you moan his name. It sends him reeling, he always ends up losing control and just pounding into you whenever you moan his name.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Experience is not something he has, he spent most of his life wandering around Teyvat as The Kabukimono which didn't exactly bring about a lot of chances for him to gain any experience. Truthfully you were his first, but he pretends you weren't, he doesn't want you to know something so vulnerable about him. So he'll continue on pretending you're just one of many girls just drooling over him, when in reality you're the only one he's willing to sleep with.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying.)

Nothing beats missionary to him, it's simple and not physically demanding but also gives him perfect access to you. He can easily reach down and choke you, tease your nipples or drive you crazy by tormenting your clit. Also means he gets to see all your reactions, every tear that may spill from your eyes, if you drool, he'll get to see it all.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Serious, he is dead serious. He won't catch him being goofy or silly, he's above such things.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Scaramouche is a puppet, he doesn't exactly grow body hair, nor does the hair on his head grow. It's all artificial, but if you expressed an interest in body hair then maybe he'd ask dottore about hair implants...

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Intimacy is not something he is willing to give, for now at least, sex is just sex. A way to release his frustrations and feel good after stressful days of working for the Fatui.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He doesn't really masturbate, why would he when he can always just drag you over? You're his well behaved slut, and he plans on taking advantage of that.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

One thing about Scaramouche is that he always wants to be above, above everyone, he wants to be a god afterall, and that doesn't change during sex. He will lose it whenever you worship him in any way, when you kneel before him and suck his cock like your life depends on it. He's your god, and you better act like it or else he'll find a way to punish you for sinning against him.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

His office, he likes railing you in his office. He doesn't really like the Fatui and see's it as some big "fuck you" to them, to be fucking your brains out during his work hours, on the desk or the chair they paid for. It's too fun for him.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

When you try act all defiant against him, act like you're not interested in having sex with him anymore. It just drives him to break you down, and he always does. He'll pin you down against the bed and pound you till you're a sobbing mess, begging for his forgiveness and confessing how much you enjoy having sex with him how good it feels when he fills you up.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Do not ever mutter an "I love you" to him during sex, unless you want him to stop mid session that is. He can't handle that level of intimacy yet, he's not sure he even fully understands love.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Giving and receiving, he doesn't care, either way works. When you suck him off he gets to watch you choke and drool all over his cock, gets to see you all messy and desperate. On the other hand he gets to drives you over the edge when he eats you out, he gets to lick and suck at your cunt till you're a sobbing mess. He loves the way you whine and cry when you're getting overstimulated.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast and rough all the time, he has no time for sensuality and slowness, he doesn't care for it if it's in an intimate way. He will go slow though if it means torturing you and making you beg, that's an opportunity he cannot skip.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He likes his quickies, but also enjoys spending hours driving you wild, it just depends on his schedule. If he has a busy day then he'll pull you into an alleyway and have his way, or maybe he'll make you suck his cock from under his desk while he's working. If he isn't busy then he'll take his time with it, he likes watching you get desperate when he's taking a long time,

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Scaramouche does not fuck with risky business very much, he refuses to put his reputation at risk after he worked so hard for it. The riskiest he'll get is fucking you in his office, knowing someone might hear as they walk past, but he'll always lock the door. Hearing is all they'll get.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

As a puppet he has an absolute ton of stamina and you really shouldn't test that, he'll easily push you past your limits if you push his buttons too much. He wouldn't mind fucking you till you pass out, and he easily could.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He didn't own toys originally, but he ended up buying a few after coming upon you. A few vibrators he'll use on you while he fucks you, maybe a dildo he'll use to fuck your ass. He'll never let you use anything on him though, even if he knows it'll make him feel good. He won't let you have any control over him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

If you look in the dictionary his name would written underneath unfair because he will tease you all he can, he loves how you react when he teases you. When he calls you a slut and you whine, or when he slows down and watches you get frustrated.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He's not very loud, but he's not silent. He'll groan and moan quietly, but he'll do his best to keep it quiet since he doesn't want to embarrass himself.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Scaramouche would, without a doubt, using his electro abilities during sex. Pushing his fingers your clit and sending small zaps of electro against it just to see you gasp and whine at the sensation, maybe he'll zap your nipples too just to see you jump slightly.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Blessed by the gods (aka given by dottore) about 7 inches long and good girth. He's hairless by default as mentioned earlier, but will talk to The Doctor about it if you like hair.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive is a high, it's a rare time in his life where he gets to feel pleasure so he finds himself constantly wanting to go back and have his way with you whenever he can. It's too good to not do.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He doesn't sleep afterwards, he won't be caught asleep by anyone since it's such a vulnerable position. He'll leave you to sleep in his bed and go do whatever he has to do.

[webslingingslasher]

love frat peter with all my heart but i literally think i would bash my head against the wall (not bf peter situationship peter)

*cleaning out my inbox.*

‘if i was my friend, i would be calling them an idiot for getting played and being pathetic. yet, here i am, swearing it’s different and no one gets him like i do.’

a deep sigh. ‘i’m a fucking joke.’

peter can find the bliss in being ignorant, but sometimes he forgets that you live in it too, and can pull him right out of his trance and into reality.

this was one of those times. it wasn’t meant for his ears, he was just at the right place at the wrong time.

there’s nothing blissful about being aware you’re just a bad decision. and what a corner he’s backed himself into, would it hurt more to end it before you start to resent him or hurt more to keep continuing the same path, even if it’ll end in what you want?

would you still want him? or is he just subconsciously showing you how bad of a boyfriend he’d really be?

peter’s a lot of things, and since he’s met you, he’s become one more.

selfish.

it's not lost on him, peter can pretend to be stupid but he's smart enough to know what's actually going on under the surface. it's just nice in the blanket of ignorance.

'hey, stop being so mean to yourself. peter likes you, a lot. even if he pretends he doesn't.' your roommate is fighting for him, he's about to bring her a "just because" gift card.

'no, no, no, no! don't cry! stop crying!' peter's heart lurches, he wants to break the door down and give you a hug, especially when he can hear how watery your voice is.

'that's the whole fucking point! i mean, where do i get off on thinking that? i get he doesn't want to sit around and have a feelings party, but it would be really fucking nice to hear him say he wants to date me. or anything really.'

'hey,' peter's heart races, he's not sure what your roommate is about to admit to. 'remember a few weeks ago the frat had the black and red party, you skipped cause you were sick? - right, well, peter got fucking wasted and kept talking about you.'

a sniffle, no more tears. 'really? what'd he say?'

her boyfriend was one of the guys he talked to all night long, no doubt she got all the same information second hand. she could spill or she could let it mean something and let peter get there first.

peter could put aside his ego for ten minutes. if only to make you feel better.

'well, he-' before he could get thrown under the bus, he knocks on your door. 'hold on-' your roommate answers, you offer no movement, staring at the floor with your back turned.

she's looking at him expectantly, peter tilts his head towards you. 'wanna let me handle this one?' it's instant, your head whips around, the look on his face lets you know he heard everything.

'no, go away.'

peter sighs, 'trouble.'

'no, cause i already know what you're going to say.'

'no, you don't know what i'm about to say.'

tears blot at your eyes, your roommate ditches you in a second. peter approaches slowly while you're crawling up your bed. 'don't-' you take a sharp breath, 'don't even say anything cause i know i won't wanna hear it.'

you stare at your roommates side when peter takes a seat next to you, he's inches away, you feel too vulnerable to face him. you already know what he's about to say, that he likes hanging out with you and it typically starts and ends there.

'hey, trouble. you wanna look at me?'

you shake your head, it's pointless because peter's already cupping your face pulling it towards his. 'ready?' you pull his hands off you by tugging at his wrists, a grouchy persona took over.

'for the same conversation? sure, peter.'

'i like you.'

you wait for the friendly twist he always likes to slide in. 'i like you, you're pretty cool, you know?' but it doesn't come. peter ended it on that, you peek back at him, he doesn't seem as scary as before.

'yeah? and?'

peter reaches out to brush his thumb across your cheek. 'that's what i said at the party. that i like you.' a flash of disappointment, he moves past it. 'and that's only because i wanted to save this next part just for you.'

attention caught, blown pupils look into his own.

'i want you to be my girlfriend,' he's quick to kill the light that roars in your eyes. 'wait, wait, wait, no, let me finish.' you feel like you're walking a tightrope.

'i like you and i want you to be my girlfriend, just... not yet. but that's what i want and that's kind of my end goal in this.'

a double ended sword, either you suffer in silence until he’s ready, or you suffer until you can’t stand it anymore and leave.

'that's it?' he couldn't have worded it in a way to get every single hope up, to make you feel weightless for an entire second before he pulled the rug?

'yeah, that's it.' what did you want? an i love you?

‘oh.’ you pull at the sleeves of your sweater to cover your hands. ‘oh?’ peter tries to catch your eyes, you sound more sad now than when you were crying.

‘i need time to think, i think.’

‘think about what?’

‘this.’ you gesture at the empty space between you. ‘us.’

peter’s turn, he understands. ‘oh.’ you nod, ‘yeah, oh.’ there’s an awkward pause in the room, neither of you quite sure what to say or where to go from there.

there was nothing peter could do, he���s just a person at your disposal. ‘um,’ think, peter, think. he wishes you weren’t hiding your eyes from him. ‘okay. that’s okay. we can…’ peter takes a big breath, he didn’t realize how much he didn’t want this until now. ‘… we can spend some time apart.’

‘okay.’ why weren’t you bothered? why weren’t you more upset? why were you so fucking indifferent?

peter feels selfish again, he just doesn’t know if he’ll get one again. ‘can i get a kiss before i go?’ you take a moment to make up your mind, peter wonders if you’re agreeing for the same reason. ‘yeah.’

no, it’s because he’s selfish. you don’t initiate anything, just frowning at your fingers as they curl and uncurl around the fabric of the sweatshirt he once owned.

‘i can’t kiss you if i can’t see you, trouble.’ a distant nod, ‘right.’ peter wishes he didn’t ask to look at you, he wishes he didn’t notice the blank look in your eyes. ‘are you okay, trouble?’

it’s soft, and delicate. he just wants to make you feel better, but he’s the one hurting you. it’s so utterly selfish, yet you want it too.

‘no.’ if you whisper it, it doesn’t hurt so bad. for either of you. you can both pretend it wasn’t said. ‘i’m sorry.’ there’s a lot to be sorry for, it’s just a blanket statement.

‘yeah.’ neither of you believe it. you just want him gone, you need to treat yourself like a friend. ‘kiss?’ peter wants to keep talking, but he can’t really find anything substantial to say.

it wasn’t very tender, or sweet. maybe it was the passion peter was missing, everything feels so sad. was this the answer before you said it? was this a goodbye kiss? if not, why did it feel like one?

peter pats your knee, ‘balls in your court, trouble. call me when you’re ready?’ you daintily nod, it’s like you’re in another world. ‘okay.’

you hold your eyes shut when peter kisses your forehead, it’s bullshit. ‘and if you need me, we can put this to the side, okay?’

‘okay,’ you push him back. ‘you can go now.’ peter has to swallow a lump in his throat, you’re eager to push him out and push him away. is this how you feel? is peter having a moment of clarity and empathy?

god, he’s a shitty human.

‘i don’t think im going to come over this week, so you can bring my laundry back.’ you were supposed to do it at his house, and you were supposed to wash your clothes with his, and you were supposed to fold them together.

you’re already thinking a week ahead? no, peter’s selfish, he’ll make you come back. ‘no problem. i’ll wash them for you, i’ll even clean out my second drawer to put ‘em in.’

he wants to do the thing you've been hinting at for weeks, now? is he really grasping at straws? what fucking happened? what changed? peter's not even going to give you a chance to fight it, you can't say no if he's not here.

'i'll talk to you later?' you nod. you can't even say it back? everything about this is wrong. but he can't fix it, not when you told him you needed to think about things, not when you're on the cusp of giving up on him.

peter can hear you sob into your pillow when he latches the door shut.

----

when you said you didn't plan on coming around this week, peter didn't think that meant speaking to him too. no texts, no snapchats, no dm's, no facetimes, no frat parties, nothing.

peter puked three times friday night, day six of the silent treatment. he swears it's because he was drinking too much but peter knows what anxiety feels like for him and how it comes out.

peter can also kiss the idea of sleep away. he's had four nightmares this week, two of them back to back. spider-man's been sluggish and now he has a nasty bruise across his jawline. nothing felt right.

since you last talked to him, peter's had a constant stomach ache and headache. not to mention how he's just not really hungry anymore and you've gotten really skilled at hiding from him.

peter knows he said the balls in your court, but what if you never pass it back?

day eight and all is saved.

'sleepover?'

peter swallowed his tongue at the text, you wanted to spend the night, that's a good thing, right? girls don't fuck and dump, right? peter's heart is drumming like it never has before, wagging his imaginary tail like a puppy dog he's never responded quicker.

'yes!' peter erases it. 'of course!!! i missed you so much i think i was dying and i really couldn't breathe and-' peter deletes that one too.

what's good enough to make you think you deserve this?

'you got it, trouble. wanna let me take you out to dinner for date night with your favorite frat boy?' maybe he's laying it on a little thick, but peter swears he's withering away without you next to him in bed.

'only if it's expensive.' peter will take out a loan if it means you'll have dinner with him, if all you want from him is a nice dinner, he'll do it. he'll do anything if it means you'll stay with him.

'only the best for my girl.' you read it, but didn't answer. peter took it a step further. 'i'll pick the place. i'll even borrow someone's car.' meaning, he was going somewhere nice. it did fine. 'just let me know what time to be ready, parker.' but it wasn't good enough.

peter may have been an asshole prior, because the way your face lit up with a ten dollar bouquet of flowers told him that he should've been doing this all along. if he had, he wouldn't have been here.

'for me?' you brought the cellophane to your nose, 'really?' they smell lovely, like they were actually picked out and not just the first thing he saw. 'of course. only the best for my baby.'

a flash in your eyes, but it doesn't work, not in the way it normally does. no, this time it seems to amuse you. he doesn't care, you look breathtaking and he's about to have his heart thump from his chest.

'i'm going to be the luckiest guy there tonight.' peter blurted it without thinking, but what's worse, or better, is that he truly believed it. he waited patiently when you set the flowers down, but couldn't hold it in the second you turned for him.

'can i have a hug?' touch starved and itching for your hold, you quirked a brow, were you waiting for a kiss? peter thinks kisses be damned, he'll pass out if he can't wrap you in his arms.

'sure-' before you could finish you're in his chest, his palms wash over your back, you're heated up in a second. you take a deep breath, he does the same.

there was a lot of reflecting, but a whole lot more missing. peter just couldn't hide his well. 'i'm sorry, but i missed you so fucking much.' your heart warms, you knew it.

'i did, too.' it's all that was needed, you felt peter match your breaths, one single unit, together. it's how peter thinks it should be, it's how it should be. he doesn't know how he could go back to not that.

you think he's about to kiss you, it's a different look in his eyes. instead, he brushes out your outfit and nods towards the door.

-----

peter feels like he's on the countdown, even more so when the bill came and you hadn't said a word about your week of recollection. you didn't bring it up on the way home, or when he stopped for dessert, or even when you got back to the chapter house.

but he still kept an arm around you when you chose to head for the kitchen instead of the stairs, peeking in and brightening up when you see your favorite brother at the island.

'ethan!' you were almost as happy when you got your flowers. almost. peter lightly pushed you forward, letting you get in a hug while he grabbed something to drink.

'you're looking very fancy tonight.' you curtsy and thank him, a gesture towards your date. 'peter's idea.' ethan reaches for a fist bump, peter gladly accepts.

you'd love to catch up but peter's antsy and you're not that mean. 'breakfast tomorrow?' you glance to peter, 'is that okay with you?' his tail starts wagging again, there's going to be a tomorrow. 'of course.'

ethan agrees, 'breakfast it is.' you share a look with him, a sly smile. looking around the kitchen, three other brothers. where does peter's loyalty lie? how much did he actually miss you? how much did he learn?

'kiss?' a cup clatters, four sets of eyes watching. 'huh?' you spin with your back to the crowd, 'kissy.' it's the first you've asked for all night, you're counting the hesitation in your mind. one, two, thr...

and it's a kiss. the kind that had you begging for more, even if he was already attached. one that had you melting into his chest while he held your back sturdy. one that said he really didn't give a fuck who was watching anymore.

peter's selfish and he needs to breathe. you hold him by the collar of his jacket, he peeks up to his brothers, a slight blush followed. he can hear the chirps in his mind.

'one more,' it's chaste. you mumble against his lips, 'last one.' peter knows your game, he doesn't have anything to lose but you. he'd put up with shit the rest of his life if he meant you kept asking him for kisses.

a slurry of pecks, you push him away at the sound of gagging from the audience. 'okay, okay!' you swipe at the corner of his lip, nothing's there but a distant memory. 'you taste like chocolate.'

'are my kisses that sweet?' another gag, 'take it upstairs, parker.' you pull on his hand, 'yeah, parker. let's take it upstairs.' you shake off the cheers and drag peter up the stairs behind you by the hand.

you peel your jacket off in his room, your shoes next. like he told you, clean and folded clothes in the second drawer down on his dresser. you pull out your own pajamas, peter watches intently.

'do you want me to turn around, or... nevermind.'

'you're very polite tonight, parker.' a slip of the tongue, you didn't mean it like that, but he took it as such. 'no. please stop calling me that. i'm trying, trouble. i'm really trying.'

'i know you are, you're cute when you're desperate.' peter holds his breath, 'what does that mean?'

'it means you have an ultimatum.' there's nothing good that can come of this, he knows it. you're going to tell him to either make it official or move on, you must have expected the latter. why else did it take so long to reach out?

peter can feel his hands shake, he hides them by crossing his arms. you don't look half as nervous, you're scaring him because he can't read you. it sinks in, it's because you're final in your decision.

'sit.' you pat the space next to you on his bed, you settle underneath the blankets and pull it over your knees. 'did you wash your sheets, too?'

'yeah,' you smile at peter. he's gnawing at his bottom lip. 'they smell clean.' you nudge peter's arm, he swallows thickly. 'ready?'

undivided attention. 'i don't want to break things off.' visible relief, you're not sure if peter is religious, but you think he just said a thank you to god.

'good. i really don't want you to break things off either.'

'but-'

'fuck.' you frown with a little sympathy, he couldn't have thought it was that easy.

'it can't go back to how it was, peter. you're not ready for the boyfriend title, fine. but i need more from you, if you can't give me that, this ends.'

anything, anything, anything.

'what do you need from me?'

this is where it gets tricky, for you and for him. 'i want you to be my boyfriend. you're not ready, but you want to be, right? you said that's how you see us ending, remember?'

'yeah, of course.' you've been thinking logically and this is the best solution for now. this is what you can handle for now. this is what's best for now.

'then treat me like that's the end game. take me out, kiss me in front of your friends, hold my hand on campus. commit to me, truly and fully commit to me. act like you want me to be and stay your girlfriend.'

is that it? he just has to treat you how he's always wanted to, but was scared to do so because he didn't want you to think it was more than it was?

'okay. i can do that, i promise i can do that.'

it's not that easy, it never is. 'yeah, but, this isn't forever, peter. there's not an infinite timeline on this, this is just for right now.'

peter's terrified to ask, but he still does. 'when does right now end?'

it's why you were so calm, how you were able to keep away from him and not show the same amount of craving he did. peter was right, your decision was final and you were serious.

peter was on borrowed time, but this time, you knew it too.

'when i say it does. because, right now, i could walk away at any second, and you'd let me because you'd have no one else to blame.' 

selfish, selfish, selfish. 

because all peter heard was, ‘but i’m not done, yet.’ 

[personasintro]

Mutual Help | #23

𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭: @kithtaehyung

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, mature content

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.2k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 

Sipping a cup of coffee, you savor the taste in your mouth before you swallow while a soft smile plays on your lips. No matter how many times you busy yourself, your mind keeps coming back to yesterday but most importantly, to Jungkook. Having sex with him yesterday felt different, so different that it scares you how much he affected you and your body during it. You felt so content and everything felt so much more intimate than ever. It was Jungkook's way of apology, another way which you welcomed with open arms. Overall, yesterday was amazing and just a simple thought of you two taking a shower together  makes you want to giggle.

Jungkook squirts a shower gel, the one he uses all the time, onto his palm before he starts rubbing your shoulders, washing you with tender and slow movements. Moving to your breasts, he cups them and gives them a proper squeeze that makes you giggle. 

"Don't you have enough?" you ask amusingly, still feeling him between your legs and the pressure his length left there. You're sensitive there and probably swollen as well. 

"Hm, I can't get enough of you." he murmurs, kissing you onto your neck as you find this moment so intimate and sweet. And maybe weird, because for some reason you feel like the two of you are crossing some boundaries. On the other hand, you're glad he doesn't just fuck you and goes straight to acting like none of that happened. 

"Liar," you snort, feeling him moving his hands down to your stomach as he starts washing it. When he's done, his hands hover over your lower stomach before his tattooed hand disappears between your legs. "Jungkook." you warn him, warm water hitting both of your bodies but mainly yours as you stand right beneath the shower head. 

"What? I'm washing you," he murmurs, starting to wash your heat as you gasp. "So swollen." he comments, causing you to blush and murmur his name in embarrassment. 

"Whose fault is that?" you murmur, hearing a low chuckle behind you. 

"Busted," he chuckles, circling your clit. "Too much?" he asks, a worry laced in his tone which makes you smile. 

"It feels good," you answer, tilting your head back against his chest. Your arms find their way behind you, wrapping around Jungkook's neck and gasping when you feel his soft length pressed against your ass. 

"Fuck," you moan, eyes rolling back when he enters you with his fingers. 

And all you can do is enjoy this before the food comes, but that's not on your mind at all despite your empty stomach. All you can focus is Jungkook's fingers and round two of pleasure and a fucking great orgasm ahead of you. 

"How's your boyfriend?"

Memories crash down at the sound of your colleague's monotonous voice that has a slight edge to it, which is recognized as teasing. You think.

"He's not my boyfriend," you roll your eyes, putting the cup down before you glance at Yoongi's amused eyes. "He's my best friend." you add, knowing it's pointless when you notice the quirk of his lips.

"You kiss all your friends?" he asks amusingly, but still remains a neutral facial expression that would probably make you laugh if he wasn't interrogating you.

Narrowing your eyes at him, you open your mouth; "He kissed me." you point out, causing him to snort as he shakes his head.

"From what I've seen, you enjoyed it..." he comments but before you can cuss him out, he adds; "So, you really are just friends?"

You almost want to joke about him being interested in your life. From what you've seen, he barely gets interested about anything and certainly not you, even though he's one of the easiest people to talk to here.

"Something like that." you murmur, reaching for your coffee that you'd like to finish before Junho barges into the break room and starts giving orders.

"Oh, so he's your fuck buddy?" he asks, causing you to choke on the coffee as you swallow it painfully before you start to cough. "You should've just said it." he shrugs innocently, walking away from you just like that but you notice the little smirk he tries to hide.

You'd yell at him, not wanting him to get away with this but you're not alone in a break room and the last thing you want is everyone to hear what you were about to say.

Your phone vibrates on the desk where you put it, causing you to unlock it and open a message.

Kook: what color is your underwear? ;))

Snorting, you start typing.

"I'm not doing this" 

Kook: :(( you're no fun 

"Aren't you working anyway?" 

Kook: I'm on my break, but I can always make some time for you ;) 

"I'm still not doing this" 

Kook: :(( disappointed but not surprised Kook: I'm gonna buy us some takeout on my way to pick you up, any requests? 

You smile, already excited about the food. Jungkook is taking you home today, but you still have to go to his place to get your groceries and the two of you agreed this morning to have dinner together before he takes you home.

"Surprise me :)"

Kook: I will ;)

"Thanks for the food, it was delicious." you tell Jungkook, patting your lips with a napkin as he cleans up containers where the food had been.

"No problem," he signs out, washing his hands before he turns around and leans against the kitchen counter, eyes already set on you.

He has a weird smirk spreading all over his lips which makes you stare at him confusingly, wondering what's his intention.

"I've got something else for you." he muses, tongue poking his inner cheek as if he's nervous and excited to bring up this topic.

Who knows what's going on inside his head, and you don't have time to try finding out when you're confused and nervous. He got you something?

"What?" you ask curiously, head tilting to a side as he straightens himself and nods his head towards his bedroom.

"Come." Is all he says, already walking there and you've nothing else to do than just follow him and wondering what the hell is this all about.

You're not going to lie, you're curious especially when he reaches for a box that's sitting on his bed. You're definitely confused, you were supposed to have dinner and then he should've driven you home, but here he is. Handing you some kind of white box with nothing on it, not even a bow or something that boxes always have when they're given as a present.

"If something's gonna jump at me, I'm gonna kill you." you threaten, already scared of what's in there.

"Nothing's gonna jump at you," he chuckles, rolling his eyes at you. "Open it." he says, biting his lower lip in anticipation while you eye the box with wary eyes.

Sighing, there's nothing heavy or moving inside of it, so you decide to open it. Your curiosity gets the best of you and you open it, tossing the thin paper away to reveal Jungkook's present to you. Gasping, you almost drop the box when you're staring at one thing that you'd never expect to be there. You'd never expect Jungkook to get you something like that. In other situations, you'd probably die of laughter but all you can do is eye the pink vibrator with a mortified look. Mouth open, eyes slowly averting to Jungkook who seems to be enjoying your reaction. Arms crossed over his chest, he's biting his lip to prevent himself from grinning and all you can do is stutter over your words, before you find a courage to talk properly.

"What the hell? Why would you buy this?" you ask, eyes dropping back to the box.

You can't believe there's a fucking vibrator.

"Well, you've never talked about anything you'd like to try. So I wanted to make this more interesting for you and this looked like a great idea," he explains, watching you as you slowly sit up on the edge of his bed with a puzzled look.

That's true. You wanted him to fulfill your desires, although you're not sure if using vibrator is one of them. You've been so pleased with Jungkook, only him, that you've never thought about other options. Sure, you've tried spanking, throat fucking but that's about all.

Oh my god. Does he think you're boring in bed? Is he tired of you, so he bought you a freaking dildo?

"Please don't overthink this. I thought we could try it, but if you're not comfortable with this we don't have to do anything." he speaks up before you can voice your thoughts, even though you weren't planning on it. Not anytime soon anyway. You're so shocked that you can't even react or talk properly.

"We? You want us to try this?" you ask slowly, looking back at your best friend that gives you a short nod.

"You can try it alone, it's totally up to you."

"What? No! That's not what I meant... I thought you bought this because-- never mind." you shake your head, not wanting him to think that you're just overthinking prick.

"Because what? Come on, talk to me." he says, already walking up to you as he gets on his knees and gently places his hands over yours, trying to look into your eyes.

There's no reason in avoiding him, or his big doe eyes, so you look at him. "I thought... maybe you find me boring, so you bought this."

"What?" he lets out a chuckle, your brows pinching together. "You're not boring. You think that I think sex with you is boring?" he raises his brows, staring at you as if you just said the most stupid thing ever.

"Yeah?" you answer unsurely, lifting your brows. "Argh, I don't know. I certainly didn't think you bought it because you want us to try it." you exclaim, finding it easier to talk to him. Maybe it's his hands that are caressing your knees and the soft gaze he's giving you.

"That's if you want this," he reminds you, "You're helping me so much, and I want to do the same for you. I want you to enjoy this. Although, don't get me wrong, our sex is fucking amazing." He's quick to explain, eyes not budging as he's talking and you listen to him.

Our sex is fucking amazing. It sure is. And the thought that it's going to end soon makes you sad for some reason. Fuck, Y/N. It's just sex, you're going to find someone else. Not just for sex, but someone who's going to love you and you're going to love that person too.

"Is this something you want to try?" you ask him curiously, and you see him relax when he notices your interest and that you're no longer overthinking his present.

"If you want to," he answers diplomatically, which causes you to glare at him. You really want to know if he wants it as well.

The thought of him using this just makes you curious and kind of excited. It's something new. Your sex life used to be boring and you had only one partner in your life, Haechan. And you've never had the balls to buy something like this, not even when you wanted to pleasure yourself. Your fingers could do only so little, that you often ended up more frustrated with no orgasm.

"Fuck yeah, I wanna try this with you but not when we're not on the same page." he tells you, assuring you that you don't have to feel obligated to do this because he wants to.

Good thing is that he knows your personality and you in general, knowing that you wouldn't do something you don't want to. But his own personality has the need to emphasize that this is totally up to you. He doesn't want to pressure you into anything and meanwhile you've been enjoying your sex, just like he's been, he's been thinking about how to make this more memorable for you as well. He knows you're a real freak somewhere inside of you and that you're much more naughty than he thought. You manage to surprise him every time you two are intimate.

"Actually, I'm quite intrigued by this," you tell him, pursing your lips to hide a smile of embarrassment.

Of course, you know there's no reason for you to feel embarrassed because Jungkook always makes sure you're comfortable with everything, but you can't help it. You're still in shock that he bought something like this for you.

"When did you even buy this?"

He chuckles, taking your hand as he laces his fingers with your own. "I ordered it two days ago and it came today." he answers, watching you as you grab the vibrator with your free hand and examine the silicone object.

It's soft, it certainly doesn't feel like a real dick but it feels nice to touch. It looks pretty flexible as well. "Why pink?"

"Is that your question?" he snorts, but seeing your curiosity he answers you anyway. "I don't know, I thought it'd look pretty inside you and it matches with your pussy."

"Jungkook!" you shriek, cheeks burning red.

"What? I'm just honest." he laughs, pecking the back of your hand as he keeps stroking it with his fingers.

"It looks expensive." you point out, eyeing the vibrator's tip.

It looks like a real dick, well minus the pink color and the fact it's fake and made out of silicone, and even the size isn't horrendously big. It kind of matches with Jungkook's size and you wonder if he picked it up purposely.

"It was," he nods, causing your eyes to snap at him. "I'm not telling you the price." he says immediately, knowing that look you give him.

"Why would you buy something so expensive then? I'm sure they had cheaper options." you murmur, hearing him laugh because you didn't tell him he should've bought anything. You said cheaper instead.

He finds it very amusingly, his nose scrunching as his shoulders shake in laughter. He calms down, licking his lips while a soft amusing smile decorates them.

"Just the best for my baby." he tells you simply, your eyes almost bulging out but you control yourself.

Fuck, did your heart just jump?

"Don't say stuff like that." you murmur again, avoiding his eyes as you pretend you're eyeing the sex toy instead.

"Why not? It's true." he tells you simply, placing another kiss on your hand which makes you sigh.

True, what? That you're his baby or he wants just the best for you?

He's starting messing up with your head, not intentionally at least, you know that much. And you're also not stupid to notice that the relationship the two of you have is different. It's not just sex. You're aware of Jungkook's caring and sweet personality, and now that you think of it this attitude and behavior suits him. But you hadn't expected him to be like this with you. He's so sweet, constantly kissing you and calling you all these nice names that makes you want to kiss him and just let him fuck you senselessly. None of you have voiced these thoughts and you wonder if Jungkook noticed it as well. It happened naturally, just like everything in your friendship, and those thoughts just occurred to your mind all of a sudden. You were so focused on Jungkook and how amazingly he makes you feel, that you completely didn't notice how the two of you act around each other. He's always been affectionate with you, but morning kisses and his tender and caring actions could be mistaken as romantic and an act of love.

Love. How stupid.

But this is just sex. And you're going to enjoy it while it lasts. You both settled onto something after all. You pretend to be his girlfriend and he'll help you with your desires. Mutual Help. Yes, that's how he called it and that's what this is.

"Let's try it." you speak up, slowly putting the dildo back into the box as Jungkook's eyes widen in shock.

"Right now? Are you sure? You looked very shocked." he asks, eyes filled with worry but also a hidden lust behind them.

"I did look shocked," you agree, "But I want this." you assure him, giving him a slight smile he returns.

Giving you a little nod, he straightens himself, still on his knees but enough to reach your lips which he kisses. He gives a few pecks to them, before he stands up and hovers over you. Reaching for his shirt and clutching it in a fist, you pull him towards you which surprises him and causes him to stumble.

"Easy tiger," he muses, letting out a soft chuckle while he holds himself in his hands, careful not to crash you.

You giggle, hands too preoccupied to unbuckling his belt. "I should be the one calling you tiger, you bought me a freaking dildo." you joke, causing him to snicker.

"Don't act like you don't like my present." he teases you, pecking your nose while you struggle to take off his jeans which stays underneath his bum.

You start stroking him through his boxers, noticing how he clenches his jaw and tries to control his reactions which to be fair, amuses you.

"Ah, is this present supposed to be a replacement for my ripped stockings?" you raise your brow, mischief sparkling in your eyes when he stares at you through hooded eyes.

"Let's be honest, dildo is much better than any stockings." he snorts, causing you to do the same before you scoff.

"Says who? You?"

Jungkook nods teasingly, nibbling on his bottom lip as you keep stroking him, feeling his length hardening under your touch.

"To answer your question," he gulps when you squeeze him, your lips curving to a slight smirk. "No, it's not a replacement for your stockings. I'll buy them for you. I just can't believe you're still thinking about some stockings." he chuckles, hissing when you squeeze him a little bit too hard.

Intentionally, of course.

"Of course, I am. I'm a woman, I love my clothes." you sneer, wiggling your brows that makes him laugh.

"I'll buy you anything you want, just forget it already." he jokes, your brow raising.

"Careful, Jeon. Don't promise something you can't keep." you tease him.

The corner of his lips quirks up as he starts kissing down your neck, almost shifting your focus but you won't let him distract you.

"All this for some stupid stockings," he mutters against your lips, causing you to giggle. "You're gonna be the death of me."

Pulling his hardening length, he groans quietly as you circle your thumb over his tip that leaks with pre-cum. Pushing against his chest, he seems confused but follows your hands as you switch your position and push him on the bed. He opens his mouth in a mere shock, but licks his pink lips when he sees you smirking down at him. All his attention is on you, eyes watching your every move, drinking you in especially when you spit into your hand before you grip him and start stroking his length. The tip is red, skin velvet and strained wanting some attention. And you give him that.

So far, Jungkook seems to be controlling himself and barely reacting to your touch, which to be honest, quite annoys you. You take it as a challenge, wanting to get some reaction from him except his occasional silenced groans that seem to get out of his mouth unintentionally. The first touch of your lips is when you kiss the reddened tip, tasting his pre-cum and almost rolling your eyes at the sweet musky taste. You've never been so turned on about getting head. But this is not just someone, he's not even your real boyfriend and here you're, almost salivating all over his cock when you barely put him in your mouth. It's everything about him. How hot he looks laying there, almost fully clothed with his boxers resting underneath his cock and exposing that intimate part of him. Or how sharper his jawline looks from below where you're seated between his legs. How his tattooed arm rests over his stomach, those veins popping out of his beautiful skin. And lastly, how eager you're to please him because that arouses you even more to the point your underwear is sticking to your core.

Opening your mouth, you let his cock head inside just to swirl your tongue over it which makes his breath hitch but other than that, he barely reacts. Frowning with a challenge in your mind, you take him deeper and start sucking him off. Going back to his tip, just to go deeper with each time and repeating that process all over again. You always go back to his tip, sucking it and swirling your tongue against it like your life depends on it. Jungkook is not a vocal person during sex, of course he knows his way around words to make the whole enjoyment of sex even more memorable and pleasing. And during that time, you can hear him groaning and growling from time to time, especially when he's about to cum but apart from that, he's not extremely vocal. You're definitely winning in this category, which probably strokes his male ego and embarrasses you when you think about your vocals after sex.

Was I being too loud? Did someone hear me? 

These kinds of questions occur in your mind, not really bothering you or something like that. It's just a simple thought of curiosity and maybe a little bit of embarrassment. There are thin walls everywhere, you wonder if your or Jungkook's neighbors heard you. You drift away during sex so often that sometimes, you don't even realize what you say most of the time during it.

When you pull away, causing his cock slip from your mouth, you lick your lips and watch him slowly open his eyes to meet your dark and lustful gaze. "Was that good?" you almost purr, wanting to hear a praise or something at this point.

You watch his tongue slowly sliding across his bottom lip, cheeks slightly flushed as he gives you a tiny smirk. "Perfect."

But you don't have to be done with him, you'd do anything to feel him cumming inside your mouth again. Just the thought of it makes you clench around nothing and almost forces you to let out a needy whimper.

"You want me to—"

"No," he says immediately, rising from his lying position and suddenly hovering over you even from his sitting position, mimicking your own. "It's your turn."

And before you can protest, because he hasn't cum yet and you'd really want to make that happen, he's already standing up tucking his cock back into his boxers. Smirking, his lips quirk up in amused curl at the way your shoulders drop in disappointment but you don't care how easily he can tell. You're not trying to hide it anyway.

However, you watch him undress his jeans which he drops onto the floor and reaches for the box. Pulling out the pink vibrator, that you've already acquainted yourself with, before he tosses the box onto the floor as well and places the sex toy next to you. Slowly, like a snake that's eyeing its prey, he pins you down with his darkened eyes meanwhile a satisfied grin appears on those appealing lips as your back meets the mattress.

When his lips press against your jaw, neck and slowly move at the top of your breasts, you feel yourself arching from the bed in a desperate need to feel him more and closer. While his lips are preoccupied with your exposed skin that is available to his mouth, Jungkook's hands are too busy gripping your hips, ass and thighs.

"Jungkook," you breathe out, "Please." you whimper, clutching his shirt in your hand as you pull at the fabric.

He pulls away, slowly licking his lips as he starts working on your clothes, undressing you like you wanted him to. When you start tugging his shirt again, he gets the message and takes it off, giving your eyes another worthy sight of his toned abs.

You're momentarily distracted by none other than Jungkook himself, too busy salivating over your best friend to fully focus on his hands that work on your clothes until you're completely bare in front of him. There's not an ounce of shame or embarrassment, it's not the first time he sees you naked and when he drinks you in with those dark orbs, you grow even more needy and confident.

"You're beautiful," he says softly, eyes shifting at your breasts that are perked up just for him. "So beautiful."

"Stop," you whisper, avoiding his mere confusion that settles on those eyes before he shakes it off.

"Why? It's true." he tells you, fingers pinching your nipple that makes you groan at the sudden pressure he puts there.

"You shouldn't," you try to tell him, voice strained while you're having trouble fully focusing on your own words. Again. It's just what Jungkook does. He's completely messing up with your head. "You can't." you add, whimpering when he envelopes your nipple with his mouth and starts sucking your sensitive bud.

"I should," he says, twirling his tongue around your nipple before he adds; "And I can."

You want to protest, tell him that he shouldn't be telling you all that stuff. You know he'd just question it and you'd have to tell him how weird it makes you feel. On the other hand, you're completely giddy all inside whenever he compliments you, you can feel your heart beating so fast that it almost hurts. But he shouldn't be saying this to you, he's not your real boyfriend. He should say those things to someone he loves. Loves differently than you as his best friend. Someone whom he's romantically involved with.

But you can't bring yourself to tell him that, not in the middle of this and especially not when he gives the same attention to your other nipple making your thoughts go away in seconds. He spreads your legs with his hand that slowly palms your heat, humming against your nipple when your wetness coats his fingers.

"You like this, don't you?" he chuckles deeply, still palming your heat while circling his finger around your opening just to tease you.

All you can do is melt under his touch, incomprehensible words in a form of pleading leave your mouth. You can't bear all this teasing, you need to feel something more. You need him and you don't care how desperate you look or sound.

You're too distracted to notice him grabbing the vibrator, until you feel it being pressed against your clit. It's colder than Jungkook's hands and it pries your eyes open, seeing him pressing the pink toy against you. As soon as your eyes meet, the corner of his mouth quirks up in a slightest teasing smirk before your whole body jerks with surprise. The toy comes to life, sending vibrations straight to your clit that makes you arch yourself.

"Fuck," you gasp, not expecting that to happen. "You didn't tell me--"

"What? That it can do this?" he says, pressing the toy even more into your clit that makes you moan. "Oh, baby. It can do so much more."

With that, the vibration gets more intense and faster, your clit throbbing almost painfully while Jungkook starts rubbing the toy at your most sensitive spot. It's different – you've never felt this kind of pleasure. You suddenly understand Jungkook's idea of trying something new and exploring a new field of something you never thought you'd do. He's truthful to his words, doing his part of helping you with your desires that you didn't expect to have and want.

The new pleasant feeling makes your whole body shiver, or maybe it's Jungkook hovering over you almost naked with dark hair falling onto his face, or it's a simple combination of both that takes you over the edge before you can even realize it. With another rub and skilful twist of his wrist, you're cumming undone just from the set of vibration. Jungkook rides you through it, slowing down the vibration until he fully turns it off when you're done breathless.

"How was it?" he asks in a hushed tone, eyes watching you as your own open slowly, meeting his gaze.

He kisses down your jaw, sucking your skin there and you're too fucked out to tell him to be careful about possible marks. You can't be showing up at work with hickeys covering your skin, Yoongi would never let you live and you don't need unnecessary attention from your colleagues anyway.

"Amazing." you manage to let out, still feeling your heart hammering against your chest.

"You ready for more?" he asks against your skin, sending a few rounds of shivers down your whole body as your breath hitches.

"More?" you ask breathlessly, wondering what he's got planned for tonight.

Surely, this is not the end of your night and pleasure. Jungkook's cock is still fully hard and yearning for that attention which makes your eyes widen in realization that he still hadn't cum. You were so fully focused on your pleasure that you completely forgot about Jungkook's for a few minutes.

"You didn't think I'm done with you, right?" he chuckles, pecking your lips as he sits up and takes off his boxers, fully exposing his cock to your hungered gaze.

Smirking, he starts pumping himself and the single sight is enough to make lust clouding your mind all over again. You feel yourself clenching and needing that pleasure all over again, despite that you just came. It wasn't enough, you need to feel him inside and just that thought makes you shiver with excitement. Slowly sitting up, you let his dark eyes watch you as you get closer to him, just to put him closer by the back of his neck. You kiss him, letting your lips linger on his own just for a few more seconds before you pull away.

"I want to be on top tonight," you tell him, met with a tiny smirk as he nods.

He reaches for the nightstand, pulling out a condom that you rip from his hands and urge him to lay down. He listens to you, still smirking down at you even from his position as he makes himself comfortable. You open the condom, eyes locked on his while he plops his arms behind his head, laying in his full glory. With cock slapped against his stomach, you grab him and put on the condom before you give him a few pumps. He bites his lip, still smirking at you which causes you to roll your eyes.

"Why the hell are you smirking?" you murmur, hovering over him while you straddle him, not fully sitting onto him.

"Nah, I'm just enjoying this." he muses.

"What? Me being on top?" you chuckle, grabbing his length as you let him run up and down your slit.

"You being so... dominant," he decides to say, eyes closing for a mere moment as you put more pressure onto his length. "Use me, baby. Make yourself cum."

Fuck, he's killing you.

"You ready?" you ask him, looking deeply into his eyes as he grins, poking his inner cheek with a tongue, a habit of his (extremely hot habit), before he opens his mouth;

"Like never before."

[ddarker-dreams]

omg i love your yandere giorno series!! I was wondering if you could write a little thing where giorno witnesses his darling having a lowkey mental breakdown/epiphany because she realizes she’s in love with him? sorta like expanding on the little moments in the other fics where reader questions her feelings for him. and she just confesses to him that it’s so hard to accept what he’s done but she can’t help but love him

i'd recently been wanting to expand on the scarlet ribbons yandere bad endings and this meshes well with a christmas-y idea i had 👁👁

This time of year packs your schedule to the brim.

Being the wife of Don Giovanna comes with its unique obligations, which you once stumbled through with the naïveté of a newborn doe. Time and difficult lessons sanded away your inexperience. These trials weren't unlike those he'd undergone since ousting Diavolo, reality proving itself a stubborn foe against youthful idealism.

After what felt like ages apart, he reunites with you in the evening, where he notes some unusual behavior.

For starters, you're eerily silent. While he's no stranger to you giving him the cold shoulder, it's never without reason, like when he restricts your travel for citing security concerns. He can't recall doing anything to earn your ire. If anything, you'd been uncharacteristically amicable recently, regarding him as a collaborator rather than your warden.

Natale was almost like an armistice. You get to engage in charitable pursuits, while he oversees their seedy underbelly. Ultimately, everything is about business, image, and prestige. He doesn't insult your intelligence by pretending otherwise.

It's when you (and your conspicuous Stand) sneak a glance his way for the third time that he speaks up.

"Is something troubling you?"

He could whittle away at your defenses over an extensive campaign, but, feeling the day's exhaustion weigh him down, he opts for a direct approach. You consider him, your Stand peering over your shoulder with suspicious eyes.

"... Your meeting went long," you comment.

He nods, sensing that you're getting at something. When you refuse to elaborate, he offers to show his hand.

"There were some mild disagreements," Giorno replies. "They've been put to rest."

"If what I suggested is causing tension—"

You cut yourself off when he sits beside you on the loveseat, leaving little room between your persons. It's an unusual line for him to cross. He rarely infringes upon your physical space, owing to a courteous code of conduct that you struggled to comprehend. He thinks you want him to be terrible; a cartoonish villain that you could pour all your energy into resisting.

"I'll see it through," he reassures, the tenderness in his voice reserved solely for your ears. "I think the scholarship program is an admirable idea. The funds are there, it's simply a matter of ironing out the details."

You shuffle around. "It's not a lucrative venture."

"That's inconsequential."

"I'm sure your Capos feel otherwise."

"They can be shortsighted," Giorno argues. "And they don't have the final say — I do."

"That's..." you trail off, gnawing your bottom lip, "Why are you so...?"

Giorno, realizing that he's approaching the heart of the issue, can't let this chance go. He sees you contemplating retreat, as you cross your arms over your chest and squeeze your lips shut. If he were a fully benevolent man, he'd grant you your reprieve. Maybe he'll come to regret pushing you too far. Nonetheless, you are his vice, and even he can't always suppress his selfish yearning.

"So...?" he encourages, nearly crooning the word.

You shake your head. "I never know how to feel about you. Hating you used to come easy, now it's just... pointless. Impossible. I don't know. Sometimes, I think I might even lo—"

Aghast, you slap your hand over your mouth, cutting yourself off.

For his part, Giorno wasn't expecting such a vulnerable admission to nearly slip out. Not wanting to push his luck, he leans back, allowing you some space. You appear to be in deep thought. Your Stand has since dissipated, leaving you truly alone.

It's then that he recalls one of the final requests Bucciarati made of him:

"Please ensure her safety and happiness in my stead."

In the years that have followed, the latter has proven trickier than the former.

His hand finds yours. You jump, snapping your head in his direction, shock rippling across your countenance. He responds by giving your hand a firm squeeze. You don't reciprocate, nor do you pull away. Instead, you stare at where your bodies are joined, almost in a trance.

Giorno feels the cool band of your wedding ring flush against his skin. You made efforts in the past to be rid of it, though his Stand's ability ensured it'd always find its way back to you. He wonders at what point you decided to abandon that little rebellion.

Perhaps the revelations surfacing tonight have something to do with it.

Eventually, you exhale a shaky breath. "All this planning has me worn out. I'm not thinking straight. So please... forget I said anything."

And because he cares for you above all else, he nods, prolonging the farce you've both been cast the leads in.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for discussing my friend's sexuality with a completely different friend group?

my best friend of 10 years (we're both 25) told me several months ago they're gray-ace. i'll be completely honest: i think microlabels are stupid and pointless, since they really only describe personal preferences that have nothing to do with sexuality. i'm not interested in debates or discourse, so save your essays.

being friends with them for a decade, i obviously know them extremely well, and i'm positive that they're not gray-ace, they just have a history of dating ugly, toxic people (one of whom i know for a fact pressured them into sex at least once). i'm pretty confident i'm right, since recently they were telling me about a woman they met at a bar, and how upon seeing her immediately wanted to hook up bc she's so sexy. now, i'm not ace but finding strangers sexy and wanting to have sex with them doesn't strike me as ace behavior. especially considering they were only ever luke-warm about sex and attraction when it came to men, and haven't mentioned feeling the same way since they realized they were a lesbian.

i would never ever tell them what i really think. this is their journey to make, i'll see them on the other side. i'm also not going to share my opinion with any of our mutual friends, bc our friend group doesn't gossip about each other or talk behind others' backs, and i don't want to put anyone in the position of hearing me vent about how i think our friend is using asexuality to avoid processing their trauma.

all that being said, i'm in a discord server with people who share similar views and beliefs (about most things, not just microlabels lol), none of whom are in any way affiliated with my irl friend group. so i vented to them about this situation, they agreed with me, we made some lighthearted jokes about it. like i said, i'm never going to say anything to my friend, but it feels dishonest to smile and nod when they talk about being gray-ace, then later roll my eyes and laugh about it on discord (for what it's worth, they haven't mentioned being gray-ace since they started dating the woman from the bar).

so, AITA for pretending to believe them, then talking about them in an unrelated discord server?