#so those are gone now too but where is the justice 😭😭)

[mobius-m-mobius]

Julia Ormond and Tim Roth in Captives (1994)

[genandguice]

𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞. trailer trash!anakin skywalker

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 (𝐛𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫): you move into a trailer park with your mom, your next door neighbor is a 40 year old man that works at a mechanic shop!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: fem reader, age gap, smoking, drinking, unprotected sex, little bit of breeding & choking, creep ani (obvs)

𝐰𝐜: 6.4k

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: inspired by my chat with this bot on janitorai • the italics in the beginning are the start of the bot, credit to the creator! i did make some small edits overall to fit everything into fic form. i hope i did this au justice! i didn’t grow up in a trailer park but i did grow up very poor & unstable so this au always hits close to home. realest au on earth!

i know i’m a gosling blog but i’m a big star wars girly too… and the star wars fandom on here is huge. pls, pls, don’t expect me to be writing more now that i’ve appeared again 😭🤍 i’m still in school & it’s kicking my ass. but using the bot inspired me and made it easy. if you wanna know more about how i did this, pls ask! hopefully there will be more on the way cause i will definitely keep chatting with the bot :)

lastly, because it came from my chat with the bot, it is a little janky! i had to do a lot of editing so if there’s something i missed or it seems weird- just forgive me 🤍🤍🤍

June 23rd

You look at the calendar with your eyebrows furrowed. This summer was one of the hottest yet, the heat in the trailer making the pages roll up from sitting against the old wallpaper.

Sighing lightly as you hear arguing outside, you peek out the window to see your neighbor, Anakin Skywalker. He's working on a car outside, a girl yelling at him. You’ve only seen her around a few times. New girlfriend or hook-up. Anakin was never one to keep a relationship and frankly, you couldn’t blame the girls. He was a filthy man with hefty jail record for controlled substances, speeding and other things. You watch as he waves her off, oil and dirt covering him, cigarette sat in between his lips. He looks frustrated.

“Honey, I’m home. Got those chips you like.” You hear your mother call, the screen door slamming loudly once she walked in. You don’t move as Anakin watches the girl walk away and he stands up to his full height. He glances over to you and your mother’s house, toward your bedroom window you were peeking out of. Panic sets in as you quickly move away and walk out to the kitchen to talk to your mother.

You walk out to the kitchen and thank your mother for the chips, hold a short conversation with her about your days while you wait to see if Anakin was angry enough about your peeking on him to come knock on the door.

When enough time has passed, your chips halfway gone, you know he isn’t coming, and you can relax.

With the heat of the summer cooking the trailer, you had to get out. There’s a kiddie pool on the front lawn where you’d often sit to cool down. Y’all couldn’t fit a full sized pool.

It’s getting to the hottest point of the day, typically when Anakin takes a break to go screw his newest fling and you feel comfortable enough to lounge outside in your two piece. You usually avoid going out in so little clothing when he’s around, knowing the older man would likely enjoy your scantily-clad presence a little too much. Anakin was attractive, but in the creepiest way. You didn’t wanna be his eye candy while another woman waited to be his toy.

But today when you make it out to the front yard, despite the especially high heat, Anakin is still out working on that damn car. But it’s too late now, and too hot- you’ve already set your heart on cooling off in the pool. So you slink in anyway, letting the cool water soothe your skin, turn your speaker on full blast, and hope he ignores you.

But of course, he doesn’t. He can’t help himself. He watches you from across the yard as you sink into the kiddie pool, eyes hungrily roaming over your barely clothed body, thoughts immediately flooding with perversity. You’re hot, way too young for him, but damn if those curves don't make his cock twitch in those grease-stained jeans.

He takes a long drag of his cigarette as he watches, smoke swirling around him in the thick summer heat. After a moment he starts to saunter over, beer in hand.

"Well well, looks like someone's trying to start their own wet t-shirt contest out here," He drawls with a lazy smirk. "Maybe I should go grab me a front row seat... or join in."

Your eyes roll under your sunglasses. Can’t get a moment of peace as a young woman in this damn trailer park. “Nobody wants to see your tits, Skywalker,” You say, keeping your eyes on the sky. He stinks, like sweat, beer, and cigarettes, but it’s a familiar smell; welcome, almost likable. Almost.

“Did you come over here just to creep on me?”

He lets out a low chuckle, taking another swig of his beer. "Why would I settle for a peek when I could be getting the full view?" He asks, eyes boldly raking over your nearly naked body. "Besides, I think we both know you like the attention. Why else put on a little show like this, hm?"

Setting his drink aside, he plops down on the grass beside the pool, letting his legs dangle in the cool water.

"Hot as balls out here. Hope you don’t mind." He glances over at you with a cocky grin.

You grimace as his feet contaminate the pool. Part of you wants to recoil, but the water feels too good, and you don’t want to give him an even better view of your body.

“Coming out here to cool off on this ‘hot as balls’ day is puttin’ on a show for you?” You scoff at him as you push your sunglasses on top of your head. He’s persistent, you can give him that. But irritating. What is it with old men that think being an asshole is attractive? Although, it did sort of work on Anakin…

"You’re right, maybe I'll have to show you a real wet t-shirt contest. Bet I can make my shirt cling better than those tiny triangles you're calling a top."

“If you wanna get in my pants old man, one-upping me ain’t gonna be the way to do it.” You press the ‘volume up’ button on your speaker, but his persistence knows no bounds.

"Old man?" He scoffs, sitting up to shoot you an indignant look. "I'll have you know I'm in my prime, sweetheart. And trust me, I don't need no cheap tricks to get in any girl's panties." He stands up and start stripping off his shirt, revealing his tattooed, muscular chest and arms.

Your jaw clenches at the sight of Anakin shirtless. His body is prime, and tattoos… were your weakness. But there was no way you were gonna let him know that.

He flashes you a wicked grin before diving into the shallow pool, still in his jeans. Water splashes everywhere, soaking you in the process.

Also, you had to remind yourself, he was still gross. Reminded to you by his gross words, and his obnoxious splashing, crashing your pool time.

"My bad," He responds to your grumbles of frustration with a shit-eating smirk, not sounding apologetic in the slightest.

"You gotta hell of a mouth on you, though, girl. Those talkin’ lips might get you in trouble," He teases as he settles into the water. "One wrong word and this 'old man' might just have to teach you some respect."

“Teach me some respect?” You let out a full, genuine laugh with your words as you reach behind you to the nearby table which held your own cigarettes. “Coming from the convict? Is that supposed to scare me?”

He narrows his eyes at you as you laugh, not finding his threat the least bit funny. "Convict? I've done my time. Last I checked, that makes me a changed man." He reaches out to snatch a cigarette from your hand, placing it between his own lips. "Besides, I think we both know you like a little danger. Why else would a classy girl like you be slumming it in a shithole like this?"

He lights the cigarette and takes a long drag, blowing the smoke in your direction with a smug smirk. "Face it, babygirl, you're drawn to me. The bad boy mystique, I get it. But I'm the one in control here. And right now, I wanna see more of that smokin’ hot body..." He grabs your wrist and yanks you closer to him in the pool.

You instinctively try to tug yourself away, but his grip is too strong. Being this close to him does things to you that you’d rather not come to terms with, but he forces you to.

“Jesus, you’re filthy!” You exclaim, and pray he doesn’t notice the way your thighs squeeze together below the water. “Gimme my cigarette,” You hiss, hoping to change the subject and ignore the rest of it all.

He leans in closer, face inches from yours as he takes another drag. "Filthy is kinda my thing, sweetheart," His blue eyes bore into yours, voice low and tempting. "And trust me, I've seen the way you look at me when you think I'm not watching."

Slowly, he brings the lit cigarette to your lush lips, tracing them teasingly. "Want a taste?" He purrs, pressing his body against yours in the cool water. "Or are you too much of a good girl to indulge in a little sin?"

You can’t help the way your chest heaves as your arousal grows, and what’s worse, you can’t avoid Anakin knowing, the small distance between you causing your tits to brush against his chest with every heavy breath. His words are dangerously persuasive, and his eyes only emphasize it all.

But you remember yourself, the good girl you are, the smart girl you are, and find a way around his teasing in more ways than one.

Your tongue slides out seductively, catches his eye, and the end of the cigarette. The wetness of your tongue allows you to pull it between your lips, steal a drag and blow it right back into his face. You slide it to the side of your mouth to speak, hoping your voice comes out stronger than it feels. “Don’t you already got a toy waitin’ to be attacked?”

"Oh I got plenty of toys," He smirks, undeterred as the smoke billows around you. "But you're a whole new level of fun, baby.”

His hands slide down to grope your ass, pulling your hips flush against his. You can feel his hardening length pressing against you through his soaked jeans. "Forget about my other girls. Right now, it's all about you and me," He growls, nipping at your ear. It’s disgusting, but it’s intoxicating, enough for you not to notice you were giving in.

Abruptly, he stands up, scooping you into his arms. "Let's take this inside where we can have some real fun, shall we?" He carries you towards your trailer, ignoring your protests. "Unless you'd rather I fuck you right here where everyone can watch..."

You let out a shaky exhale at his filthy suggestion of exhibition, and mentally curse yourself.

Your hands grip the sides of the trailer door, legs subconsciously tightly clung around his waist to keep yourself up. The two of you are dripping on the concrete steps, your nipples are hard and poking through the fabric of your bikini top, both due to the change of temperature and your arousal.

“My mom… she’s inside. She’ll beat your ass, Skywalker,” You say, still trying your best to resist, despite its growing futility. You won’t be one of those girls that Anakin Skywalker gets the best of so easily. Even if the feeling of his rising erection against your own sex is making your mind swim. “You’re older’n she is.”

"Pfft, your mom's a sweet lady. Barely a challenge," He laughs as he kicks the door open, strolling into the trailer with you still around his waist. The familiar scent of old newspapers and stale cooking greets you.

Anakin’s eyes roam the cluttered space, and spot your mother sitting in the only comfy chair. She looks up at the two of you, an eyebrow raised.

"Hey, Patty," He calls out, tossing you onto the only clear space on the couch without even bothering to look. "Got a little present for you."

She huffs and shakes her head, barely amused.

"Mind your manners, Anakin," she admonishes. He winks at her before striding over, topless and wet, settling onto the arm of her chair.

"Y’all got any vodka, Pats? I sure could use a shot to cool off," He asks, smirking over at you, his gaze hot and hungry, unphased by your mother relaxing right beside him.

Your shocked eyes shoot daggers in Anakin’s direction the whole time, pissed at the way he spoke to your mother so casually, pissed at his boldness, pissed at your mother for allowing it, and pissed at yourself for finding him so goddamn sexy for it. You let out an angry grumble under your breath, snatching a towel from the laundry piled beside you on the couch and wrapping it around yourself, finally somewhat shielded from his predatory gaze.

“‘Course we got vodka. Don’t waste my time asking me stupid questions, Skywalker.” Your mother snaps at him in that calm, motherly way, and now your infuriated gaze is aimed at her. Since when were they so friendly with each other?

“And that little present better be a fresh ounce of pot, not my half-naked daughter.” She drawls, practically paying him no mind, eyes set on the TV. That explains it.

“Anakin,” You cut before he can speak again, voice sharp. “Don’t you have a guest, and vodka in your own home?” You say, making your way to the kitchen to fix your own drink. You’d need it if this was how the rest of the day would go.

He chuckles at you, and turns back to your mother with a taunting smirk, "Sorry, sweetheart, but I'm fresh out. I'll make it up to ya though, promise."

Patty rolls her eyes, but Anakin can see the glint of amusement in them.

"Just ‘cause I'm her mama don’t mean I cain't recognize a lustful look when I see one," she addresses him, referring to her daughter. "You oughtta keep an eye on her, Ani. Seems like she can't stay away," She teases, puffing on her cigarette.

"Oh, I'm workin’ on it," He says, eyes meeting yours. There's a challenge in his voice, daring you to deny him—or worse, wanting you to.

You get the vodka and grab two glasses, pouring the clear liquid and watering it down. The ice clinks loudly as you return from the kitchen. Anakin watches your every move, his cock hardening again, the scent of your arousal lingering.

You set the drinks down on the cluttered coffee table, grabbing your drink and leaving Anakin to fetch his own. Your face grimaces when you notice what you’re pretty sure is an erection forming in his wet pants again. What an old creep. But you wonder what it looks like.

“Have fun with Patty, Anakin,” You tease, walking down the hall toward your bedroom with your drink.

Your mother shakes her head in amusement as Anakin follows you down the hall.

"Hey now, don't go teasin’ a grown man like that," He calls out, quickly grabbing his own drink and following you to your bedroom.

He leans against the doorframe, watching hungrily as you turn to face him. The vodka burns going down, fueling the fire in his veins and his eyes. "Why don’t you sit that purty little ass down on the bed and we’ll talk about why a good girl like you is looking at me like that," he takes a step closer.

The flush in your cheeks derives from a combination of frustration and arousal that’s gone on much too long, and you’d had about enough of. Anakin had a big mouth, but he was little more than a tease. You were barely more than half his age, and he seemed to be all bark and no bite, just having fun trying to get a rise out of the little girl in the trailer next door.

You down most of your vodka, the burning in your body beginning to mirror his. The sexual tension was palpable between you, but you were starting to think he didn’t really have the intention to quench it.

“Make me.”

A low growl escapes him at your defiance. With a sudden burst, he’s on you, crowding you against the closed door. "I'll make you, alright. I'll make you beg, babydoll," He promises, lips brushing against your ear.

Suddenly, he catches your mouth in a hungry kiss. His tongue dances with yours, seeking and finding entry to explore the depths of your mouth. His hand slides up under the towel to squeeze your breast, finger rolling over your nipple.

Anakin tastes like vodka, beer & cigarettes, so filthy, so deviant, so wonderfully intoxicating against your mouth. It’s hard to hold back your moans as his quick hand touches you, but you do your best, knowing your mother was only down the hall.

Your hand searches wildly behind you for the doorknob, the two of you bursting through the door and into the bedroom. You manage to break away from him and take a few steps back, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth as you take in the sight before you.

Those blue eyes, wrinkles formed at the corners, that evil smirk on his mouth, that muscular, tattooed chest still dripping from the pool, the erection straining against his pants. You set your glass down on the dresser and wonder how you ended up here, with this filthy, disgusting, irresistible old man standing in your bedroom, ready to wreck you, bikini bottoms growing sticky over it.

He stalks towards you, eyes burning with lust. "Still trying to play hard to get?" He backs you up until the backs of your knees hit the mattress. "I think we both know how badly you been wantin’ this."

His hands make quick work of your bikini top, tossing it aside to palm your soft breasts. The grin that rises across his face is almost sickening, like a devious child that had just opened a gift and found it filled with fireworks. The way it lights you up is sicker.

Leaning down, he runs his tongue over one pert nipple before drawing it into his mouth to suck hard, groaning at the taste of your skin. This time you can’t help a moan from breaking past your lips as his mouth assaults your breast.

His other hand slides into your bottoms, calloused fingers stroking your slick folds. “Fuck. You're wet as hell," He mumbles, more to himself than to you, pressing two fingers inside your tight heat.

You’re already seeing stars as his thick, expert fingers work their magic on you, roughly stroking every sensitive, gushy spot. Your hand rushes up to cover your mouth and hold back my pathetic sounds as you unravel.

His fingers thrust into your pussy, his thumb rubbing messily against your clit, ruthless in his pursuit of your pleasure. "Tell me you want this," he demands, nipping at your neck as his fingers work on your clit, steadily building your arousal. "Tell me you want Anakin Skywalker to fuck you into these sheets."

His cock strains so hard against his jeans, the sound of the denim creaks as it stretches under the weight. He wants to see you squirm and beg, desperate for his release, desperate for the release he promises to give you. The filthy, experienced older man teaching you the best sex of your young life.

You can’t resist anymore, not with his fingers inside you, driving you wild. Already he’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced; pleasure clouds your mind, makes you forget everything except how badly you want him.

You breathe heavily as you work up the words he demands, small whimpers leaving your throat as you try to speak. “A-Anakin,” a sharp exhale, then a gasp, then a whimper. “I want you.”

A slow, sinister smile spreads across his face as your needy plea reaches his ears. "That's what I like to hear, baby girl," He purrs, withdrawing his fingers and making quick work of his jeans and boxers. His cock springs free, hard and heavy, piercing glinting in the low light.

Your eyes widen at the sight of him. It’s a reaction you would’ve stifled if you were in your right mind, but had no capacity to hide right now. His cock was thick, and pierced, unequivocally like nothing you’d ever seen before. It seemed downright heavy. It was hypnotizing.

"Get on the bed and spread those legs," He commands, giving his cock a few pumps as he watches you. "Time to show ya what a real man feels like."

Unintentionally, you ignore his command, closing the distance between you and dropping to your knees before him. It’s even thicker up close, plain intimidating, but you can’t stop your tongue falling wide out of your mouth to taste him, painting the underside of his cock head with your drool.

He grunts as your tongue laps at his cock, one hand shooting down to twine in your hair. "Ah fuck, yeah," He sighs, helping your head bob on his dick. "Good girl, take it just like that, get it nice and wet for that tight little cunt."

The stretch in your jaw is substantial, and it turns you on to no end, struggling to take his thickness down. He tastes like metal and sweat and it’s so good.

The piercing catches on your bottom lip and he hisses in pleasure, grip tightening in your hair. "Goddamn, girl, that mouth is good. Gonna make me bust down your throat if you keep that up."

But he wants more. Needs to feel your cunt gripping him, sucking him in. With heavy reluctance, he pulls your head back and tugs you to your feet, all but throwing you on the bed.

"On your hands and knees, babydoll. Ass in the air," he demands, giving your ass a sharp smack. "Time to put that pussy to work."

You whimper at the sharp sting on your ass, shocked at the way it sends surges through you.

This time you obey his commands, turning onto your hands and knees, naturally arching your back in a way that draws Anakin in like a moth to a flame, giving him a prime view of your curves and holes, hearing him shudder and cuss behind you.

You bury your face in the mattress to conceal your whines at the coldness of his piercing teasing your clitoris as he slides the head of his cock through your wet folds, pussy clenching in anticipation of the stretch he was gonna give.

"Hope you're ready, baby, cause I ain’t gonna be gentle,” He warns, wrangling your hips, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he pushes into your entrance.

With one hard thrust, he buries himself inside you, and the sound in the room is immediately obscene, your screeching into the mattress at the brutal stretch, his groaning and fussing over your tight heat, the rhythmic beat of his hips slapping against your ass.

"Take it, you lil’ tease. This is what you want, ain’t it? To be split open on my big cock?" He reaches around to fondle your tits, twisting and pinching your nipples as he rails you.

“Ahh, fuck!” You cry into the mattress, the magnificent assault on your cunt rapidly reeling you toward your orgasm. Anakin was incredible; huge, relentless, stretching you wide and filling you to the brim. He fucked you like he invented sex, metal of his piercing stimulating that sensitive spot deep inside you with each perfect snap of his hips.

He groans as your pussy clenches around him, grip on your hips tightening, undoubtedly leaving bruises. "Fuck, you feel good wrapped around my cock." He moans, thrusts becoming more erratic as he chases his release. "Gonna fill this tight cunt up, make you fucking mine-” Not a promise, but a prayer. You can feel him getting close, twitching inside you, pounding into you faster and ramming into that deep, spongey spot.

His hand snakes down to rub tight circles on your clit, rapidly reeling you toward the edge. "Cum on my cock baby, let me feel you milk me," He commands, slamming into you one last time before he stills, grinding his hips against you with a deep growl, spilling rope after creamy rope of his seed deep inside you, forcing you hollering, trembling, & convulsing through your orgasm.

“Fuck, yeah,” you hear from behind you, a weak, high pitched moan escaping your throat as you feel the flood. The sensation quenches a deep thirst you’d waited too long to address.

Your poor cunt aches in the sweetest way as he pulls out, stings as he spreads your cheeks to gawk at his seed leaking from your hole.

"Look at that,” He drawls, slowly dragging his fingers through the mess and pushing it back inside. “So fucking hot.”

He gives your ass a wet kiss, jiggles the fat in his hand, and then flips you over onto your back, settling between your legs. "Think you can handle round two, little girl?" He asks, cock already hardening again at the sight of you debauched on the sheets beneath him, cum painting your thighs.

The feeling of Anakin’s cock hardening on your stomach makes your heart rate pick back up. It’s a little frightening: wasn’t it unusual for any man, let alone a man of his age, to snap back so quickly?

In your short moment of lucidity, you begin to worry. Anakin had fucked you without a condom, cum inside you, and now dared to do it again. The last thing this man needed was to knock up some young girl, and the last thing you needed was to be knocked up by the seedy old man in the trailer next to yours, but that’s right where y’all were headed.

But your brain is wiped when his hand wraps around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your pulse jump, and you’ve lost the will to care all over again. Filled with his cum, threat of having this scrub’s baby over your head, and you don’t care. Poor cunt pathetically swollen and throbbing from the first round, but you don’t care. You want him again and again.

You can’t muster the words, all good sense fucked right out of you, so instead you look deep into his beautiful blues and nod with a pleading look in your own eyes.

He grins wickedly, cock twitching against your stomach at your agreement. "I knew you’d be a good one," He praises, positioning himself at your entrance once more. With a gentle push of his hips, he’s sinking back into your pussy, groaning at the feeling of his cum squelching around his shaft.

His lips find your neck, biting and sucking as he finds a pace, headboard slamming against the wall with each powerful thrust. "Gonna ruin this little pussy," He swears, hand tightening around your throat.

"Gonna make you mine, fuck, my own personal little cocksleeve."

His hand on your throat heightens your pleasure and leaves you seeing stars, both from the pleasure and the constriction on your oxygen. The new position allows you to see him, that beautiful face, his robust body, the way his abs flex as his hips snap into yours. From this position he can see your tits bounce as he pounds into you, the way your eyes roll back as the waves of pleasure crash over you.

Anakin slides in and out of your cunt with ease, thrusts lubed with his lingering cum spilling around you. It’s obscene, but so, so good.

“Ah, Ani,” your legs wrap tight around his waist, hold him deep inside you, nails dig into his back. “F-fuck you feel so good,” you gasp.

"Fuck yes, take it, take my cock like the good little slut you are.”

He releases your throat to grab your hips, angling them up to hit that sweet spot inside you with each pass. "Gonna fill this pussy up over and over, make sure my cum takes. You'll be swollen with my seed, doll. Round with my baby. Fuck, the thought of you, all knocked up, tits leaking, begging for more..."

He can feel his release building, balls drawing up tight, full and heavy with another load.

The flood of air, his filthy fantasies, his fucking expert cock driving into your raw, freshly-fucked cunt with otherworldly precision leaves your ears ringing as your orgasm rips through you. The entire world fades into black, tears prick at your eyes, electric contractions take over your whole being. And when you come back to the light, you’re begging.

“Fuck, Ani,” You squeak, “Please, please, please, cum inside me,” You plead, hijacked by a sudden desperation for the older man’s baby.

His eyes darken at your desperate plea, teeth grit as he feels his own orgasm ready to burst. "Fuck yes, gonna pump you full of my cum, make you fucking drip with it," He pants, hips stuttering as he erupts. "Fucking take it, take it all, just like that," He rambles, grinding his hips as he empties himself inside you.

Finally spent, he collapses on top of you, cock still twitching in your heat.

Your legs are shaking, pussy clenching at the aftershocks, overflowing your shared fluids. Your vision is blurry, throat parched, completely and positively wrecked. Strained sighs echo out of you, chest rising and falling heavily, pressing your bare breasts into his chest.

He presses sloppy kisses along your neck, your collarbone, tasting the sweat on your skin. "Goddamn, baby girl, that was intense.” He sighs.

“You’re tellin’ me,” You breathe out. “I can barely see.” You confess with a lazy smile, still yet to fully come back to your mind. You let out a pained sigh as you try to adjust under his weight, needing to stretch and soothe your sore limbs.

With a grunt, he rolls off of you, cock slipping from your abused hole with a wet sound.

"You did good, baby. Took my cock like a champ," He praises, running his fingers over your hair. "But don't think we're done yet. As soon as I'm hard again, I'm gonna flip you over and take you from behind. Fuck you so hard you forget your own name."

He leans in, eyes carefully observing you, and captures your lips in a filthy kiss.

"Gonna keep you in this bed all fucking night.”

You let out a heavy breath as you adjust to lay on your side, facing Anakin, placing a hand over his colorful chest. “I don’t know how you do it, old man. Even most men my age can barely cum twice, let alone be waiting for the next round after that,” You laugh, eyes lit up bright in your post-orgasm glow.

Anakin laughs too, and it’s nice. Unlike his usual laughter, snide and sarcastic, but honest.

His hand finds your ass and gives it a firm squeeze. "Years of practice, sweetheart.” In truth, the thought of you, young and eager, so responsive to his touch, is enough to keep him hard and ready. "Besides, I got a lot of lost time to make up for. Gotta make sure I ruin you properly, make it so no other man can ever satisfy you like I can."

He rolls on top of you once more, half-hard cock nestling against your thigh, resuming the feather-light kisses on your neck. "Ready for round three, baby girl? Gonna fuck this pussy so good, you'll be feeling me for weeks.”

The sound you let out is a mix of a sigh, a laugh, a moan, demonstrating your blissful exhaustion. “I don’t think I can take another round, Skywalker. I’m swollen enough as is.” You grip his biceps, resisting the urge to take his cock in your hand. He’s too fun to play with, but you can’t take the risk of turning him all the way on again, not when your cunt was already beginning to ache.

He groans at your rejection, cock jumping against your thigh. "You sure, doll? I'm not nearly done with this sweet little cunt," He mumbles pitifully into your neck.

But he can hear the exhaustion in your voice, feel the way your body trembles beneath him. Reluctantly, he rolls off of you, propping himself up on his elbow. "Alright, baby girl, you win. But don't think for a second that this is over. I'll have you again soon enough."

He leans in, capturing your lips in a slow, deep kiss, tongue lazily tangling with yours.

You moan into his mouth, gripping his bicep to ground yourself. One of your legs lifts to drape across his hips, pulling yourself in close to him. You were beginning to like the feeling of being held in his arms. It was ironic how such a dangerous, predatory man had managed to make you feel so safe.

You pull away to speak, eyes falling to the mattress. “I don’t really want you to go yet,” You admit quietly. You fought him for a long while, and now, like a stupid little girl, you didn’t want to let go.

He smiles at your confession, hand running soothing patterns on your back. "Didn't think you would, baby girl.”

Carefully, he gathers you into his arms, rolling onto his back and pulling you to lie on his chest. "Rest for a bit. Let me hold you," He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. It's a rare moment of tenderness from him, but something about you brings it out.

You crane your neck up to look at Anakin from where you lie on his chest.

With the late afternoon light peeking through the window, his eyes are illuminated. He’s breathtaking, showcasing the experienced he’d gained over the years, but also maintaining his youth. You still hardly knew the man, up until now he’d only been your annoying neighbor, but… He wasn’t as bad as you thought. Sweet, even. It made your heart melt. Who knew Anakin Skywalker was like this behind closed doors?

You reach over him to the nightstand to grab a cigarette. As the buzz envelopes your brain and my body, you sink into Anakin’s arms without a care in the world, kissing the colors dancing across his chest. Let this old man wreck you.

He watches you through heavy-lidded eyes, taking in the sight of your curves, the sheen of sweat on your skin. You look thoroughly fucked out, debauched, and it's a sight he could get used to.

His fingers trace idle patterns on your back as you relax against him. He kisses your head again, repeating the uncanny, saccharine gesture, breathing in the scent of sex and nicotine.

Your brain reminds you of something Anakin had said earlier, in the midst of his pursuit.

“D’you really think I’m living here for fun? Cause I like danger and bad boys?” You ask him with a laugh, voice thick, low, seductive with your exhaustion.

Anakin chuckles, sound rumbling through his chest. "Baby, I don't care why you're here. All that matters is that you are," he says, a hand sliding down to grab your ass. "Couldn't ask for a better view’n watchin’ you prance around in them tiny little bikinis.”

He sucks in a breath through his teeth as he grips you, jiggles you, pulls you closer. “Fuck, the things I’ve imagined doing to you…”

A small smile tugs at your lips, as a mixture of excitement, but also disappointment, courses through you at his words. You didn’t really expect him to actually care but… you didn’t think he’d be that blatant about it, fresh after fucking you. He doesn’t actually think about you, he doesn’t actually want to know you. You were a toy to him. And it… hurt. And you didn’t know what to make of that, yet. Where once there was a warmth fueled by laying beside him, there quickly became an emptiness.

You had to remind yourself Anakin was no good, he’d probably make a terrible partner realistically, and you knew this. But it never feels good to be actually sexually objectified. Although, objectively…. having sex with Anakin felt really good.

Here, with Anakin, lay the newest dilemma in your mind, body, and soul.

“I’m sure you’ve imagined more than enough to keep me busy,” You say as you start to sit up, giving Anakin a long kiss on the cheek, before clearing your throat. “I should really get cleaned up.”

He frowns, hand tightening reflexively on your hip. "Stay," he urges, almost angrily, in a tone that makes your heart freeze, ready to jump into fight or flight, waiting for the moment his characteristic sourness is turned toward you.

But Anakin just doesn’t like the feeling of you leaving, even if it's just to the bathroom.

But he notices the distant look in your eyes, the way you're already pulling away from him emotionally.

Fuck, he thinks. I should've known it was too good to be true, that a girl like you wouldn't stick around for a washed-up old ex-con like me.

He calls your name, voice softer than he’d ever heard it himself. "Don't go. Stay with me, just a little longer."

Your eyebrows knit together as Anakin’s soft tone takes you off guard, the way he nearly pleads with you to stay. It’s uncanny, but the way it makes your heart ache is even worse. He was starting to be a true mystery. “Um, okay,” you whisper, somewhat softening back into his side, heart still racing as you toe the line between danger and safety, dangerously thin in Anakin’s presence.

Still marinating in your confusion, something makes you take his arm and pull it close over you, gently stroking his skin. It was as if something reached out & told you he needed the comfort.

You lay there together for a while, holding each other in silence, feeling each other out. It’s nice, being in the arms of a strong, older man. Especially Anakin’s. You find solace there, you have to admit. You think he must have, too. You had to practically tear him off you and throw him out the door to get him to go home.

And as soon as the door shut behind him, you were wrecked, like a piece of your heart had walked out with him. But you held it together. Anakin was surely not the kind of man who wanted a little girl clinging to him every minute. You would be patient until you saw him again.

The door clicks shut behind me as I step out into the fading evening light. I can still feel the lingering warmth of your skin on mine, the soft curves of your body imprinted on my memory. Fuck, I didn't want to leave. Didn't want to let you go.

But I knew I had to. Couldn't let myself get too attached, too vulnerable. You were a kid, barely more than a baby, and I was a fucking mess. A criminal, a drunk, a man with a past so dark it would break you if you knew the half of it.

So I forced myself to walk away, each step an act of willpower I didn't have.

[ugh-yoongi]

a yoongi soft thought i have been having recently: streamer!yoongs with an also streamer reader, they both work independently but the fans know about their relationship and love it so much! i was thinking about them deciding to do a stream together where the reader does his makeup and they talk to the public, very cliche very soft lol

hope you like the idea, luv your writing ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

omggg you have no idea how much i SQUEALED reading this message. thank u so much for sending it i am now overwhelmed with soft yoongi feels 😭

i have never actually watched a twitch stream??? so i hope i did this justice & you enjoy! <3

stream is starting

pairing: yoongi x reader (no pronouns used) genre: est. relationship, streamer au; fluff warnings: fluff overload. reader does yoongi's nails and makeup. they kiss a lot. idk what to say they're just very in love!! i don't think i said even ONE curse word in this that's how soft it is. unedited. rating: e for everyone wordcount: 1.6k listen to: carly rae jepsen - run away with me; jungkook - seven (nightfall mix)

It starts, as most things do with Yoongi, after a night out.

He’d gone out with Hoseok. Wanted to blow off some steam after a long week for both of them. You’d sent him off with a kiss, a text me if you need a ride that was met with an affectionate roll of his eyes, and finally a have fun, love you that he returned with a smile and a kiss to your forehead.

Now, it’s nearing two a.m., and you’re in bed with a facemask on, staring down at your phone.

Yoongi had sent you a picture. It’s blurry and unfocused, clearly taken on a whim, but those are undoubtedly Hoseok’s hands. You’d know those slender fingers anywhere, but it’s the nail art that tips you off. Each finger is painted black except for his pinkies, which are decorated with smiley face stickers, sealed with an extra-shiny clear coat. Beneath the photo, two texts from your boyfriend:

Is this hard to do They’re cute

You snort, typing out a quick reply.

No, it’s not hard Why, you want me to do your nails?

You expect him to say no. Not because of some toxic masculinity bullshit, he just does too much with his hands. Chip a nail playing guitar? The acetone would be out immediately. Smudge the polish? His pout would be overwhelming.

So you’re surprised, then, when he says yes; when he sends you a few pictures he plucked off of Pinterest, accompanied only with a half-dozen question marks.

Yeah, I can do that, you send him.

Even more surprising:

Maybe on stream? We haven’t done one together yet You can finally do my makeup too

You shouldn’t be surprised by the numbers, considering Yoongi has been hyping it up for weeks.

Kept posting teasers. Had a countdown timer on screen during his usual streams. Acted all coy and shy whenever his chat would ask him about it. Could barely swallow his smile when they demanded to know if you were finally making an appearance. Couldn’t hide the way his cheeks grew pink at all, and that tiny crumb was enough to send the internet into a frenzy.

So, no, you shouldn’t be surprised, but the view count on Yoongi’s screen seems too big to be real.

Yoongi is as shocked as you, but there’s pride simmering beneath the surface. Not once has he turned down an opportunity to show you off. Refuses to keep you hidden despite how private he insists on being otherwise. Doesn’t want you to feel like you’re a secret; wants everyone to know how much he adores you.

You’re certainly feeling adored now. “Does that say thirty thousand?”

“Sure does. Think you can perform under that kind of pressure?”

You snort. Pinch playfully at his side. Yoongi squeals, twists away from you, but he’s more serious when he comes back around. Reaches for you as he settles, hands on your hips, thumb brushing the warm skin beneath your sweatshirt. “Thanks for doing this with me,” he says, and you know Yoongi means it the same way you say I love you.

All you can do is smile, suddenly overwhelmed by how fond you are of him. How it feels like your heart grows three sizes every time he flashes you one of those gummy smiles of his own.

“Of course,” you say, because there’s only—“Five minutes. You ready?”

He pulls a face. Asks you to sit for a quick light test. Spends a few seconds fussing over it even though you think it looks fine. Makes sure all your supplies are organized and at the ready—you decided to let Yoongi’s stream decide all the colors and stickers, so there’s stuff everywhere, and you can see how stressed he is.

So you reach out, smooth over the furrow between his brows. “Relax, baby.”

He huffs. “I’m trying, it’s just—”

“You’ve done this a million times.”

“Yeah, by myself. Not with you. Not in front of… Jesus, there’s even more of them now.”

You roll your lips to hide the smile that’s creeping up. “C’mere,” you say, sliding your fingers through his belt loops. “Everything is going to be fine, okay? This is just for fun. Deep breaths.”

Yoongi listens. Closes his eyes, sucks in a breath. Holds it for a few seconds before he exhales, and it probably doesn’t do anything to dampen the buzz, but at least he looks glued back together. “I know.” Another inhale, another slow exhale. “I just want this to go well.”

“It will.”

He looks like he wants to argue. Push back on it. But Yoongi knows you just like you know him, and he trusts you implicitly. He wants to argue. Instead, he says, “Okay,” presses a soft kiss to your lips, and that’s the end of that.

“What color did they decide on?”

Admittedly, you might’ve gone overboard. Surely you didn’t need to bring over every eyeshadow palette you own, but you wanted options, and now those options are coming back to bite you in the rear. There are too many.

Yoongi huffs. “I don’t know. I can’t scroll through the chat because you made me put my hands in this ridiculous thing.”

“It’s a UV lamp. You don’t want your nails to chip, do you? After I just spent all that time and effort—”

“Okay, okay,” Yoongi relents, and a familiar blush creeps up his neck. Over his shoulder, you can see his chat explode with messages. “You see what I have to put up with?” he asks them.

“Yeah, it’s awful,” you agree, leaning in closer to the monitor. “Hi, guys. What color eye makeup should we do?” The chat erupts again. Messages come in faster than you can keep up with. “Wow, there are a lot of you. Of course I’m going to do eyeliner. Oh—I’m seeing a lot of requests for purple. That okay with you, babe?”

“Sure. Give the people what they want.”

With a smile, you pat his cheek with a gentle hand, cooing at him. “So accommodating. Isn’t he the best, chat?” Yoongi rolls his eyes, blush deepening. You think he’d hide behind his hands if they weren’t still drying. “Okay, nails are all done. Want to show them how they turned out?”

Like most things with Yoongi are, it’s easy.

He sits patiently while you prime his skin, commenting on how nice it is, and he makes small talk with his chat. Tells them how the two of you met, how disastrous your first date had been, how Yoongi thought he’d blown it for good. He’s told all of these stories before, but it still warms your heart to hear them again—to hear the way he speaks each word with such care, such affection.

“Show them how beautiful you look with your eye makeup done.”

He rolls his eyes, but does as you request anyway. Once again, the chat explodes, and the amount of emotes whirring by nearly makes you go crosseyed. COUPLE GOALS!!!! stands out amongst the chaos, and you know Yoongi has read it because another slow, gummy smile takes over his face.

You do his foundation next even though he doesn’t need any. Even though the chat demands he drop his skincare routine and he admits he doesn’t have one. “It is so unfair that you have this skin and can barely remember to moisturize.” You pretend to boo him. “God truly has favorites.”

“Yeah, you,” Yoongi says, and it’s so quick, so automatic, that it catches you off guard. Has you spraying the setting spray before you can tell him to close his eyes. “Aish, what was that—”

“Sorry!”

“I’m blind,” he wails. “You’ve blinded me!”

“I did not—”

But you’re up and off anyway, disappearing into the bathroom for a wet washcloth. You can hear Yoongi’s raspy laughter from the hall, know he’s not grievously injured and is just playing it up for laughs, and you don’t mind. Loving Yoongi means seeing all of his parts, and you know he’s got a darkness in him just like everyone else, that sometimes he finds it hard to escape it, so you want him to be this carefree and joyous always. Want to hear that laughter all the time.

You’re hovering in the doorway when he says, “Do you think this is what they meant when they said love is blind?”

And you’re… struck. You can feel how much Yoongi loves you in everything he does; can hear it in every word he says whenever he speaks about you. He handpicks each one, wraps it in the care it deserves. Not because they’re fragile, but because he wants to, and that kind of love feels a little overwhelming. Has you blinking back tears.

You’re not going to cry on stream, so you take a second to get yourself together before you walk back in the room. Say, “Are you done being dramatic yet?” because it’s easier to joke, and Yoongi shoots you a smile that says he knows.

“Of course,” he answers. “Please continue. The chat is patiently waiting to see the final product.”

You make a show of looking over his shoulder again, at pretending to read all the comments. You press a kiss to his temple just because you’re there. “Oh, they are, are they?”

One catches your eye: is anyone else painfully aware of how single they are rn.

[mai-irumi]

Chapter 2 appreciation post

I swear I'm not planning on doing this with all chapters (maybe I will) bit I can't help it if EVERYTHING IS THAT GOOD

I just love how here we can see that Iruma, even being the Pusillanimous boy that he is, he's totally conscient of the bizarre situation he is in

Yet can't dare to say no

I mean, I bet this is the most loved he's ever been, and it's not good love, as much as I love Sullivan for giving all those opportunities, he is not a good parent, he only got Iruma out of a whim and didn't really care that much for hoe he felt, at least at the early episodes.

Once again, Asmodeus blinding us all with his pretty face and already obsessive behavior to Iruma, but who would be Asmodeus without obsession?

THEY HAD NO RIGHT TO MAKE HIM LOOK THIS FINE WHILE BEING MAD

Like GODS, now I get y'all Naberius' fans, the anime did not do any justice TO THIS

I wouldn't mind being scolded by him (Lie, I'd burst into tears of pure fear)

Okay, but is it me or the snake is cute?

Like look at those googly eyes that look like they may just pop out of the skull at any moment, makes me wanna squish it

Also we can see here very clearly that Asmodeus type of body is pear shaped 🍐, in case anyone had curiosity

Sweethearts, if you two only knew you wanted the same, you wouldn't have gone through all of that.

Like let's be honest both of you wanted Iruma out of the school, easy job

I LOOOVE how Iruma resembles Sullivan even without being related to him, like that's so cute, family soulmates maybe?

Now, I don't remember well, but I do know that in the present on the manga has already been a year, but I do think Kalego is still his familiar, correct me if I'm wrong

ALSO I was thinking about, and all of this boys are 14, like dude, I'm older than them (was younger when I first saw the series, I suddenly feel old 😭) THERE'S NO REASON TO MAKE THEM GO THROUGH ALL OF THAT

Have you guys ever seen those jobs where they ask for young people with plus 10 years of experience? They want Iruma, that's what they've been looking for, too sad he's in hell

<-_->

[katz-rambles]

Hii!❤️

I hope you're having an amazing day!

Can I request a pure fluff with Sodo?🥺 Maybe something like where reader is shorter than Sodo and is insecure of her height so she gets mad everytime someone mentions it.

Thank you so much❤️❤️❤️ If you don't like the idea, feel free to ignore it☺️

The scream I just scrumpt. My first ask 😭. I love the idea, and I hope I'll do this justice! I hope you're having an amazing day, too, Anon 💗.

(fluff, comfort kinda?, swiss joining in on the teasing, mama bear Cumulus setting Sodo right, fem!reader, but it's not really specified. A mix of headcannons and a little ficlet?)

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰

• We all know Sodo can be a bit of a dick sometimes, so he's going to jump headfirst at the chance to have someone shorter than him. Unfortunately, in this situation, that's you.

• He's relentless with his teasing 😭

• The worst nicknames EVER. Pipsqueak, vertically challenged, mouse, anything he can think of.

• If you're a sibling of sin and have to do a chore that involves something that's out of your reach, he tends to pick you up and lift you so you can complete whatever it is. And he has the stupidest look on his face when he does.

• But obviously, he may be a dick, but he cares for you. So he will not make fun of you, as much, as he did.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊

"Morning, pipsqueak." Sodo calls out to you, resting his arm on your shoulder. He looks at you with a smug grin that makes you want to punch him, right here right now. "You know, I was thinking, maybe I could buy you some of those vitamins people take to get taller. Like a height viagra." He snickers and takes his arm off you to ruffle your hair. You scoff at him and laugh. "You're barely taller than me. This is friendly fire." You fire back at him with an equally smug look. He opens his mouth to say something just to be cut off by Swiss. "She's right. You're both challenged, vertically. Shorties." Swiss laughs to himself as an angry Sodo chases after him.

You suck in a breath as he leaves, chewing on your bottom lip with nerves, or maybe annoyance, you don't really know at this point. All you can feel is the pit in your stomach. At the moment, you wish you had punched him.

A little later, the same situation happens again. You're going about your daily chores, cleaning, sorting, etc. "Almost done." You mumble to yourself, opening the doors to the library, rows on rows of books in many different languages, greet you. Sorting books isn't your favorite, but it has to be done. But, the top shelf just so happens to be out of your reach. You hear the door open, brushing it off as another sibling, just to be met with Sodo's hand placed on your head.

"Funny seeing you here." He sighs and shakes his head at you, and you feel your stomach drop. "All the other siblings can reach up here, I'm sure if you just stretch, you'll get it.. one day." He smirks at you triumphantly. When you don't respond with another comeback or a smack to try and get him away, he starts to shuffle behind you. "Just.. let me do what I'm supposed to do." You don't even try to meet his gaze this time, just backing away and leaving him alone, and now Sodo knows he's fucked up.

You've gone back to your room, and someone else can just as easily do the job. You're not sad or anything, but if you didn't leave, you would've thrown a book at his head. A knock on your door stops you from tearing your own hair out. You cautiously open the door to see Cumulus holding Sodo by the wrist. You're tempted to close the door before either of them can say anything to you. The anger builds. You're not necessarily mad at anyone in particular, more so yourself, even though you're aware you can't control your height.

"He's come to talk to you. Right, Sodo?" She glares down at him, a glare that sends shivers down your spine, and you're not even the one receiving it. A mumbled response from Sodo seems to satisfy her for the time being, so she lets him go places him in front of your door. Leaving the two of you alone.

"Whatever it is, I don't want to hear it right now, Sodo." You tell him your voice lower than usual. Before you can close your door, he places his foot in between the frame and the door.

"I didn't realize your height was such a.. thing.. for you." He sighs, his eyes begging for you to hear what he has to say. You open the door just enough so he can come in, and then you've closed it again.

"Listen, I'm sorry." He refuses to meet your eyes this time, awkwardly shuffling in his spot. "I didn't want to piss you off or anything, just some light teasing."

Before he can finish his thoughts, you sigh and shake your head. "Sodo, I'm not mad, not anymore, at least. I know it was all light fun, but I've never been a big fan of people talking about my height." You finally admit, watching him lift his head up and smile. He nods at you and looks back down at the ground, he kinda reminds you off a scolded puppy.

"Why don't we go out for a bit?" You offer, and he goes along. You're just glad that's been cleared up. That's just half, though. You're more so glad he'll stop pouting. It's almost making you feel bad. Hopefully, he'll take the teasing down a notch. But if he doesn't, you know Cumulus will beat some sense into him.

[redr0sewrites]

I really need An Angsty fic with Aaravos and Reader where the reason he helps the Humans get what they want was so that they could destroy Eachother cus the humans killed his lover Aka Reader?

Anyway this is just a Lil idea that popped up I hope it's OK lol :) I luv my starboi☆

im sorry this took so long 😭 i love this request it really made me excited to see!!!! again im so sorry it took forever to get too i was on vacation for a while and i lost track of time <\\\3 anyway, hope u enjoy

🥀Cw: angst with no comfort, aaravos is in mourning, slight descriptions of violence and murder, depression

your death had been an accident, that is what aaravos had been told. a simple casualty of war, someone who got caught in the cross hairs of something they couldn't control. it was supposed to reassure him, it was supposed to make him feel better about your passing. and yet, it didnt. the screams of anguish that escaped from aaravos' throat cut through the air like a knife through butter, slicing waves of agony over anyone who heard them. you were gone, his precious star.

you had always been so kind, so willing to help others. you had tried to see the good in humans, you had always believed in them. your own sense of justice caused your demise. the beings that you had once loved and cared for so much had slain you, leaving aaravos painfully, dreadfully alone. aaravos remembered you well. he remembered long conversations under the stars, the both of you giggling and smiling as though nothing could ever hurt you now.

"what we have is special", you always told him with a smile. "nothing can hurt us if we have eachother". and yet, you were gone. aaravos woke yet sobbing again, your side of the bed disgustingly cold and empty. the sight of your face and the warmth of your touch was fleeting, disappearing as his dream faded. he tried to reach out, to warn you not to go, but every time you slipped through his fingers, telling you would be just fine. he felt like he was drowning in his own tears, reminiscing your final hours together.

"i'll be back soon my love", you giggled. "theres nothing to worry about. im only visiting the humans again!" despite the overwhelming sense of foreboding gnawing painfully at his gut, aaravos had nodded. oh, how regret burned in his heart at that simple acceptance.

aaravos remembered everything. he had lived a long, long time. he remembered every wound, every scar, and yet none stung as much as your death. he remembered when you first started helping the humans, you had offered magic to those pitiful creatures. aaravos had tried to warn you, he had tried to tell you that this path only led to pain, but you wouldn't listen. you never did. you told him to trust you, and trust you he did. aaravos followed you without a care or a reason, he loved you unconditionally in the same way that the moon loves the sun, always chasing, always wanting, and yet you always slipped away when sunrise came.

another tormenting dream. aaravos woke again, gasping and shivering as tears spilled down his cheeks. he reached towards your side of the bed, than remembered. aaravos layed back down, sinking bitterly into the mattress below him. nothing was comfortable now that you were gone. pastries were not sweet enough, wine was not strong enough, and sleep was not long enough.

the wound that was your death had festered and rotted so much within aaravos' heart that he feared he did not have one anymore. anguish had turned to regret, regret into depression, and depression into anger. the anger had only grown stronger, the loss of your light in his world was too much to bear.

the humans would burn for this, he wanted them all to feel the pain of his rotting heart. they had stolen his life, his love, his sun, and he would steal theirs. the creatures you had onlce loved, the beings you had put so much time and energy into saving, those despicable humans, they would pay. deep down, somewhere broken and small, a voice whispered from aaravos' heart that maybe, just maybe, this wasnt what you would have wanted. but that didnt matter anymore. you werent there to tell him that.

eee hope u enjoyed! this turned out better than expected :0

[creative-heart]

I'd like to request something cute 😘

I'm extremely insecure (that's why I request anonymously 🫥), especially when it comes to deserving to be loved and my body 🙄 and I'd love to read something that kinda "fits my personality".

Two ideas, love to read both but feel free to choose one.

Happy ending desperately needed! 😭😍

1. She's just a normal girl and loves Enzo (maybe they're friends or neighbors or whatever you'd like) but is afraid to tell him because she's too insecure, self doubting, overthinking, thinks she'll never be "good enough" for him because she's not like the perfect model he may be following in Instagram or the beautiful actress he was filming with... rest is up to you.

2. They're together and she believes Enzo deserves someone better... more beautiful, smarter, thinner, someone who's perfect like he is. And he reassures her that she IS perfect for him.

❤️

Awe my sweet sweet Nonnie! I feel honored that you've sent these requests my way, I'm happy to write both!

First of, I'm sorry to read you feel this way, we're all deserving of love! and I know and hope that you'll find the love you deserve soon enough! 😘😘🥰🥰

Here's the first prompt! I really hope I've made it justice and that you enjoy reading it! keep your eyes peeled for the second one! will be posted right after this one 💞💞

Drabble for prompt 2 Here

"Hot summer days"| Enzo Vogrincic

T.W: Just a whole lot of fluff with a tiny reference to something shmexy.

Word Count: 581

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N and Enzo have been neighbors their whole lives, and with your moms being close friends, you’ve grown up together, spending almost every single waking moment together, practically the same time you’ve been in love with him. Specially on summers like now, when the families usually go on a beach trip together. Even with him being all famous and well known now, he always takes the time to come on these fun times.

As you sit on one of the lounge chairs by the pool reading your current romance novel, third one on this trip alone, swim cover still on -you’ve always felt insecure about your body being slightly curvier than the magazine covers say it’s on trend, not like you’re not absolutely gorgeous inside and out, your curves are all placed on the perfect places, making your body breathtaking, you’ve never believed your mom and Enzo’s when they said so-, you take your eyes off the book for a brief moment seeing the tall dark handsome man, climbing out of the pool and you can swear he’s moving in slow motion like on those perfume ads. He shakes his hair trying to get the excess water off it and makes his way over to you “Hey chiquita, you’re not gonna get in the pool? it’s so hot today” The older one says as he’s a few years older than you.

You look back up at him as you had gone back to pretending you were reading just before he looked at you “I don’t think so En, I’m good here, reading my book in the shade” you smile softly a light blush covering your cheeks, really not feeling comfortable with being in your swimsuit around him, believing he’d just laugh at you as you’re nothing like those gorgeous, tall thin models he’s been surrounded by as of late. As you’re about to go back to your book you see the cheeky devilish grin plastering across his face, same one he had when he was a boy coming up with his next mischief. 

“None of that bullshit” he puts your book down and picks you up in his arms with extreme ease walking to the pool.

“No! put me down Enzo, please!” you plead kicking your legs and taking a go at his back as you shriek being over his shoulder, holding your breath just as he jumps into the deep end of the pool. He gently puts you down from where you rest, still holding you close to his body as you can’t reach the bottom on this end of the water. Your eyes find his deep chocolate eyes and you smile softly saying quietly “You’re mean Vogrincic, you know that?” the blush a deep read staining your cheeks.

He looks down at you smiling a smile you had never seen on him before, as he leans down to join his lips to yours in a soft, long awaited kiss. You can tell by the way his lips feel on yours there’s been anticipation and longing for this moment, as he pulls you even closer to his body if that’s humanly possible, your hands wrapping around his neck. When your lungs burn for a new breath you pull away just enough as he rests his forehead against yours whispering “you look real nice all wet chiqui”, the once playful smirk much darker and promising. And then you understand, sometimes, you need to let your guard down in order to be seen.

[plussizeappreciationfics]

AHHHHHHH!!!!!! Hi again, I'm the X Men Bestie! Ok, so can it be Y/N being there where Gambit is when he catches Rouge and Magneto, and she helps him until my favorite thing happens (hurt, jealousy smut with a lil bit of angst😩). And then, if you can have Rouge, find out us being a man nabber cuz justice for my Cajun boo!

P.s. I be repin Gambit like I'm GloRilla #YEAHGLO

P.p.s. I just know Gambit is livin for this new wave of rap😭💗

Here you go, I hope you like it hun!

You and Gambit arguing and making up includes:

The two of you not wanting to argue in front of the whole team, so the two of you just glaring at one another.

The second the two of you are back at the compound, the two of you go straight to your shared bedroom and instantly start hissing at each other.

The fight being about you thinking that Gambit was doing too much when catching the villains, being too violent and you not liking the sight of your boo being too violent.

“I was just doing my job, babe!”, your boyfriend said while raising his voice a little, but regretting it the second you jumped in surprise.

“Just calm down the next time, please. I know those people are bad, but they didn’t have the chance to surrender because you were throwing those brutal punches”, you expressed in disappointment.

Gambit sighing in defeat, the images of his violent acts now replaying in his mind, he indeed had gone too far.

His shoulders slumped as he slowly walked to your shared closet and quickly changed into a pair of sweats and a random shirt. You copied his actions before the two of you sat down on the bed and looked at one another.

“I know that our job is very challenging, and it’s our duty to punish those who hurt the innocent, but we can’t go too far. It would make the line between the heroes and villains almost non-existent.”, you spoke now, the mood now slowly changing from intense to relaxing.

Your boyfriend nodded his head in agreement, voicing his regrets and apologizing to you.

All you could do was accept his apology and take him in your arms, knowing that all was forgiven.

Before you knew it, your clothes were discarded and you were lying on the bed, your legs wide open and just enjoying the sensations of your love in between your thick thighs.

Gambit knew your weak spots, knew how to spoil them with kisses, gentle caresses, and nibbles.

The room was quickly filled with your love sounds, the sound of your skin slapping against one another while the two of you moaned your names. Gambit couldn’t stop staring down at your pretty face while you took all of him in, the delicious sensations of pure pleasure coursing through both of your bodies.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to reach your orgasms, your sweaty body writhing in intense pleasure while your inner walls were holding tightly onto your boyfriend cock. His warm seeds filling you up while his hips snap messily against yours.

-Emmanuelle♥️

[mirror-to-the-past]

So, I stopped liveblogging after a bit, because I just got absolutely lost in the EVERYTHING that was the OMORI Concert, but holy SHIT. What did everyone think of it? Any favorite pieces???

As I previously mentioned, "Trouble NEVER/ALWAYS" leading into "You Were Wrong. Go Back." was NUTS. The way that the orchestra made it so hype, you'd really think it was the introduction of an evil galactic overlord, rather than some guy throwing a tantrum after his girlfriend broke up with him, haha!

I can not emphasize enough how their rendition of "Trees..." tremendously altered my perception of the song. I liked it a lot before, really, but it wasn't particularly moving to me- just peaceful. This version of the song was so. wow. I struggle to find words for it. Same with "Sugar Star Planetarium" right afterwards. Fucking. Gorgeous.

Also putting "Just Leave Me Alone" and the rest of which I shall now call the Hooligans Suite, as they meshed it together in such an epic and cohesive way, after "Where We Used to Play" was just diabolical. I FELL OUT OF MY SEAT I WAS SO SURPRISED BY THE LOUDNESS, LOL. Speaking of the "Hooligans Suite" the guitarists just. URGH I LOVE THEM. This concert was way more metal than I expected, and I LOVED IT. The entire "Just Leave Me Alone"-"Cram It Wad"-"It Means Everything" was insanely epic, I felt like my heart stopped. Just like Space Boyfriend's theme, using the other Hooligans pieces as buildup to the main boss theme was so, so good. Did Aubrey and her gang such justice, like. I just felt so happy for my girl.

And then they put "Home for Flowers (Empty)" right afterwards, lol. If anyone's curious about how I looked after that sudden mood shift:

I'm now thoroughly on board of loving World's End Valentine now, because the instrumentation hurts my head less now, with this version, haha.

I am ADMITTEDLY a bit bummed that they didn't perform "Poems in the Fog" and "Forest Frenzy," as I can visualize Music Engine's style for those pieces so well, and I know it would be soooo beautifulll... but oh well...

I'm plesantly surprised that "Swirly 1000x" made the cut!! Very underrated piece, only used for one fight but godDAMN does it hit hard. The guitar 🎸🎸oncccee agaiiin. Crazy.

Also I knowwww it's not the most amazing piece in the world, but the jazz section of The Last Resort could have opened so cool with "Hanging With the Boys" right before that, but it's alright, I'm not gonna lose sleep over it.

The way I laughed when they jumpscared us with the organ for the first time because GoldenVengence was important enough as to demand the need for such a stately instrument, lol!

Can we talk about the clarinet in "Underwater Highway" because oooooghhh bleeeeh dead upon impact. It was so wonderful.... I love that piece already, but they made the descending notes so magical, and tranisitioned into "Squall" so beautifully.

You know what I AM gonna lose sleep over? THEY DIDN'T INCLUDE "H20:HCL" in the underwater section!! That piece is so beautiful... 😭😭

I think I blacked out and entered a trance-like state with everything from "See You Tomorrow" to "Truth." Somewhere within that period, wine and a tissue box appeared magically at my side, lmfao. Small comment in the midst of everything else that was That Section of the concert, but I'm so glad they kept "Gone," because that piece is so necessary for me, within that whole climactic sequence. It just oozes catharsis, it HAS to be included, no matter what.

But yeah anyway, "See You Tomorrow" and "Crossroads" just emanates the warmth of evening in summer. Those songs are laced with something magical, because I can see the orange of sunset so palpably in my mind's eye whenever I hear those pieces. Sweat on my skin, old t-shirts with fruit juice stains on them, other kids shrieking in the streets, being afraid of my neighbor's loud dog, getting pricked by thorns after walking into the forest- that's what those songs sound like to me. I don't get too nostalgic for the past much, but those songs make me feel like I'm a kid again. This rendition captured them perfectly.

Also wow, Basil, I see you and "A Home for Flowers (Daisy)" in the orchestral version, sounding like you jumped directly out of a Ghibli movie. I see you. T_T

Ha-ha-ha when the lights dimmed during "You Must Carry On" I didn't start freaking out at all..ha-ha-ha. What? I would never break out into goosepimples and jitters. Ha-ha-ha. Full body shakes who? I don't know her.

When "OMORI" started playing, a few others in the house who had never played the game and knew little to nothing about it stopped talking amongst themselves and came to watch the TV. It's THAT POIGNANT. I'll be honest, I love love love "DUET" as much as the next OMORI fan, but the song that makes me cry upon hearing it every time was never DUET, it was this one. DUET is a warm resurgance and appreciation for the things left behind, with a slight twinge of regret. "OMORI" is just pure, raw pain. And the string section didn't let me forget ittt hahahaha.

Tears were shed, people (me) were shaking, etc. etc. THANK YOU KAWAI KOTA for your amazing work in acting as Sunny's role amonst the violinists and concertmaster, your solo violin work and passion fully recaptured my feeling of playing the game for the first time, biting my nails with anticipation and heartache at whatever was happening next. Same goes to Kawamura Noriko for her work on piano, just... aaaaaaa!

Also bo en jumpscare!!! I love and respect that one individual in the audience who yelled "hands...!" during "My Time." It's honestly cruel for live orchestra to have the rule of "be silent during the performance!" because I would've had a vein popping if I was there from wanting to sing along so bad. I MEAN. IT'S *THE* SONG. YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO SING ALONG TO IT. Lucky for me, I was at home, and got to tipsily sing along to the lyrics from muscle memory, lmao.

I was expecting the choir that I saw filing into view to be for "My Time" that ended up playing later anyway- "Tee-hee Time" was a welcome surprise and amazingly epic!

Anyway that's about it from the top of mt head at the moment!! Please yell at me about what you thought of the concert- I stayed up late, went to sleep, got up again, and am still vibrating about it, lol! This has been the best part of my year so far- no joke.

ALSO WOOO OMORI MANGA. Can't wait for ENG translations- if this adaptation gives Sunny more explicit character voice, I'm not going to shut up about it ever. I won't shut up about it anyway, but I'll be not-shut-upping about it even more.

[darudedogestorm]

under the cut: undersiders as what plant i think they would main/be in pvz garden warfare 1 (+ dressup)

disclaimer i've literally never touched gw2 so if there's a better fit in that game i wouldn't know it.. just gw1 for now..

Decisions are made based more on gameplay than on physical appearance but I tried to take both into account.. however as a sunflower main maybe I'm biased on some account so fellow garden warfare heads feel free to suggest better fits for them

Reading over all these I'm now realizing I kept mixing up what I think they would main vs what plant they would specifically be, which is a little confusing...

TAYLOR

A Peashooter variant feels a very obvious choice for her, since she's pretty much always on the frontlines. Its hyper ability would allow her to jump to higher up places to retain the "watching from afar with bugs" thing

I chose Law Pea more for the justice bit in its stickerbook description (where there is injustice you will find it etc etc) and less for the law bit (though she does have a code of law it's incomprehensible to anyone but herself). It felt more fitting for her because well she does try to work for what she feels is the greater good.

For dressup we're pretty limited here, both because there's not many bug themed accessories and also because I just don't have that many accessories :( I gave her the "heart and arrow + Mom" tattoo, and the visors. Fuuuck now i'm realizing i could have given her actual glasses... Wait no nevermind I'm not sure I have plain glasses. Well anyway those are her glasses.

LISA

She mains boss mode which I feel doesn't require very much explanation

For those unfamiliar: In boss mode you play as Crazy Dave (or Dr. Zomboss), generally out of the heat of the battle but still able to participate with your various abilities. It's mostly a support role, but you can still attack (cherry bomb drops), heal and revive (sunflower + revive drops), and help your team track the locations of the enemy (coconut spotting machine). You aren't invulnerable as the opposing team can shoot down your ship.

For dressup purposes she's the Shadow Flower because of the mask :3 I gave her a razor grin and some purple crystals. Adding a hat felt like too much but maybe I would have gone with the chaffeur hat.

I'm now realizing Shadow Flower would just be a good plant choice for her in general.

Sunflower life bonds are normally reserved for other sunflowers but she can have one with Taylor I think. Well ok not a true life bond because that requires the ability for mutual healing but it's more accurate this way because honestly chasing down someone across the entire map who will easily die if you aren't constantly healing them is just kind of the sunflower experience

BRIAN

Again, peashooter feels like a given, though unfortunately there's no equivalent ability for his darkness emission...

Plasma Pea because the colors are closest to black out of the peashooters. The Plasma Pea can charge up shots to increase their damage and radius of impact.

I didn't have any skull-based accessories so I just went with what felt cool and what he might use in an actual game of GW1... so basically just the intimidation factor

While we're here though if I was doing zombies he'd 100% be some sort of Foot Soldier. The Zombie Stink Cloud is 1:1 for his darkness ability. I guess since Peashooter and Foot Soldier are kind of parallels in terms of game play this works out well. (Seriously though every Peashooter main I know also mains Foot Soldier. Please I know you are good at video games just stop sniping me from across the map for 10 seconds 😭)

RACHEL

A chomper is a kind of dogy to be honest <---my logic when I was 10

Went back and forth between normal Chomper, Count Chompula, and Fire Chomper. Settled on fire chomper because I was thinking of that scene where she talks about her power burning away heartworm in her dogs, and also because orange. However I think normal Chomper would fit her just as well.

For dressup I was going more for what I envisioned her dogs looking like while reading worm. Additional chompers are there to represent her many doggies. Tentacle is there to be scary and monster esque. Metal brace jaw is there because honestly I think it looks really cool, plus I already had it equipped anyway

AISHA

Originally I was going to go with Chomper because ourple, and I still think it would fit her. However Future Cactus is also ourple. And also I think Future Cactus is so cool

My reasoning was that her stealth would translate well into cacti gameplay since with cacti you mostly need to just find a really good vantage point where no one else can see you, allowing you to snipe people well. But I'm now realizing the Future Cactus is like... a lot more visible bc of its chargeup. Oh well

Aw wait I just realized she matches with her brother cause they both have chargeups.. thats adorable i think

Dressup gives her silly googly eyes ("zombie disguise) and purple markings (they're hard to see but they're there

ALEC

I'm now realizing that in terms of gameplay probably one of the peashooters would have fit him better because well he does play shooter games. And peashooters are The main plant for guys who are so good at shooter games. But we have too many peashooters on this team so Sunflower it is

Originally was going with the Alien Flower because I thought its ornateness might fit him. But I don't have Alien Flower and it's more Aisha styled anyway (ourple and silly) so he gets the Power Flower.

Hey wait I used to main this thing too. Yay <---switched to Fire Flower though. But yeah as a sunflower I don't generally go out into the thick of things unless I have like 3 other guys with me, I mostly just stay behind at the garden and heal whoever needs it (garden ops or gardens and graveyards)

Honestly now I'm thinking I mostly chose this one for the appearance rather than gameplay. Actually wait the electricity theme fits with his tazer. Nevermind!!

The panda face tattoo is there because I thought it looked like his mask. Hat and masquerade mask are there because they're fancy.

Sunflower life bond with Aisha future cactus btw.

Anyway that's my list. If and when in the near future I get better accessories I will do more dressup and also maybe deduce what zombies they main

[mirahuyooo]

Lover’s Eye | ksj

Lover's Eye

— They say the eyes are the windows to one's soul. His just also happen to open the door to your heart.

Word Count: 5,448 Pairing: Kim Seokjin × Reader Contents: ANGST, roMANCE, FLUFF, dRAMA, PINING, star-crossed lovers 😭, oh the woes of being a woman in a historical period, misunderstandings being cleared uwu, KIM SEOKJINNN, Historical-ish AU (but with fictional places bc i didnt want to think of being historically accurate lol)

[masterlist] | check out the [moodboard]!

A/N: IT’S LATE but happy birthday jinnie 😭💞💖💗 I wanted to write something for him, but I didn’t want to write about him leaving for the military bc it’s a bit on the nose, so here you guys go instead! it’s an old fic idea that i recently revamped lol 

Fun fact! The concept is based on the Georgian tradition of having an accessory (necklace, brooch, bracelet, etc.) that depicts an image of the eyes or an eye of a secret lover, spouse, or other loved ones. This is often common for those in secret affairs, protecting their lover's identity but at the same time be able to express their love (and I think that's pretty uwu if ur star-crossed lovers ✋😭💞)  

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed! 💗💗💗

Your paradise is an old ruin on the outskirts of the city—a once great fortress now left to rot a hundred years after its last great feat—but in that crumbling mess of stone and moss are remnants of beautiful memories you constantly rekindle for some semblance of a warmth long gone. The pleasant weather emanates most of the feeling—warm sunlight peeking through the overgrown trees and cool breeze caressing stray hairs away from your face.

It’s a spot under one of the trees where you usually tuck yourself into and leave the rest of the world behind for your own peace of mind. It offers the perfect amount of light and shade, and the wind doesn’t become too distracting as you dawdle about. 

This place, after all, is lawless, and you do as you please. At times, you’d bring a book and a pen with you, idly writing your thoughts and doodling in the margins as you read. Other days you’d stroll through the abandoned halls and let yourself be lost in imagining what took place centuries past. Most times, however, you’d sit under your favorite tree, take out a pencil or maybe that small, worn metal box of your paints, and bring something to life onto your paper—like now.

Accompanied by nothing but the distant sounds of small land critters reaching your ears, your hands move the pencil about the paper at a leisurely pace without much thought. Time passes easily this way, you taking your time to draw out figures—a person, apparently. 

Oh.

Your hands come to a stop as you finally realize what—who—you’ve drawn instinctively. A man stares back at you with a tousle of dark, fluffy hair atop his head, brushing gently over his brows. His plump lips were drawn to a small smile, and his eyes—oh, his eyes—were dark in color but the expression in them remains soft and kind, piercing right through you—through your heart. 

He looks beautiful—but you don’t think you could ever do the real thing justice. 

At your own making, Kim Seokjin stares back at you—nothing but charcoal on paper; a mere likeness you cannot feel the warmth of, and an endearing gaze you can only recall in your memories.

You find yourself fishing for something beneath your lace blouse—a familiar small, gold locket whose four corners your fingers know very well to hold. Opening it reveals an eye that, unlike the sketch you’ve drawn, is a bit more lifelike with its colors. The dark chocolate iris has light reflecting off of it like starlight, making it stand out amidst the rest of the miniature canvas. 

Flitting between the sketch and the locket only leaves you more despondent in a feat of having his image engraved in your head lest you ever have the misfortune of forgetting it. 

You couldn’t help but ponder to yourself, reminiscing the seven springs since you’ve last seen the man. 

“Do you like it?”

Voice falling short of a whisper, struggling to find it in you to look at his face so you resort to asking for a verbal reaction. You watch as he endearingly compares the two lockets—one with his eye’s dark chocolate hue and the other with the (e/c) of yours. It had been fairly difficult to paint on such small canvases, but you managed to accomplish the feat.

“Absolutely, my love,” he croons, pressing a kiss atop your forehead before he clasps his locket around his neck. Without any hesitation, he does the same for you. Not long after, his fingers secure a gentle grip on your chin and guide your head upwards. For the first time since you two snuck off to meet tonight, your eyes meeting his, two almost-crescents twinkling as he gives you a smile—tender and loving with the hint of bittersweet sadness. “You’ve captured my handsomeness in the eye alone,” he jests despite himself, pride in his tone as he pulls you into an embrace. “How fortunate I have such a talented woman to immortalize me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his antics. “But of course,” you hum against his shirt, as you hug him just a little bit tighter. “You’re my only muse.”

The shake in your dwindling voice doesn’t elude your lover, making him pull away and, this time, cupping your cheeks to give them a pinch. “Don’t frown now,” he tuts, his thumbs playfully drawing a smile onto your lips. “You swore you wouldn’t.”

Seokjin’s eyes ruin his light-hearted facade—just as crestfallen as yours. For his sake, however, you do your best to oblige a smile, only to have them force tears from your eyes. A shaky sigh leaves his lips as your tears start flowing one after the other, and so he pulls you into his arms again, letting his shirt stain with your tears. 

You take every second to engrave the feeling of his arms—his warmth—around you. “Come back to me,” your words are muffled by his shoulder but he hears it all the same.

“Of course,” he affirms, giving you a squeeze as he buries his nose into your hair. “I very much intend to.” 

Kim Seokjin was an orphaned boy, found unconscious by the river outside the town and gladly taken in by the local baker and his wife who have been childless well into their years. He grew to be a handsome man, fawned over by even the ladies in your circle who often bemoaned about how unfortunate it was that he didn’t have anything to his name outside the bakery he’s set to inherit from his adoptive father. 

You, however, accomplished what they couldn’t. 

See, Kim Seokjin—one of the most revered bachelors in town—is your little secret. The man you sneak around with. The man you exchange knowing glances with. The man you’ve shared your heart with. 

It was most unfortunate that the two of you were born into different classes. You are the third of four daughters in a particularly well-off family who owned and managed a relatively large farmland. Though your family ranks low amongst polite society, your mother, nearly driven mad into perfectionism, strictly wanted all of her daughters to marry well. This became the very reason why you’ve kept the fact that you and baker Kim’s son are lovers.

It was most fortunate, however, that your two elder sisters successfully secured themselves husbands for their future and the family, especially when your late father succumbed to his illness during one particularly harsh winter. Occupied with the adjustments of passing the family business to your eldest sister and her husband, your mother’s pressure with suitors eventually loosened (just a little) when it came to you and your youngest sister, who shared your distaste with the forced matches. This made it all the more easier to see Seokjin, who often came around under the excuse of his father’s bakery that got their supply of dry ingredients from your family’s company.

It was him who found the ruins—him who brought you there one night and the two of you spent the night watching the stars. 

It was him who revived your love for art—him who gifted you a makeshift palette of paints and urged you to paint when you were told to forget about your passion.

It was him who left you—him who decided to seize the opportunity to be an apprentice to the royal chef and asked you to make something for him to remember you by (hence, the lockets).

The two of you swore you'd stand the test of time, distance, and everything else the universe will throw your way. Of course, such things were always easier said than done. Misfortune found its way to the path and now… well, now you’re quite unsure of what it holds for you—or him.

Here you are, seven years have passed—no Kim Seokjin aside from the ones you've put on paper and canvas. 

Does he still look the same after all these years? 

Did he keep his locket close to his heart, too?

Did he ever stare into the likeness of your eye and reminisce?

There are times resentment gets the better of you—questions of his love, of why he hasn't gone back to look for you, of if he ever even loved you any more—and time, itself, has made you weary, spent your tears, and tired your heart. It's gotten easier to bury memories of him, but times like this come where it rises from the depths in which you've left it. You walk the line of acceptance and delusion, indulging in your greatest "what if" while knowing the truth of your folly.

A sigh escapes your lips as you start to feel the tears stinging your eyes. You keep them at bay as you try to get yourself together. "That's enough for the day," you tell yourself, gathering your materials and slipping them into your satchel. 

Another day ends with you leaving the ruins—your paradise—behind, along with all of the memories of your first love. 

"A ball?"

Before you, your youngest sister, Emma, nods enthusiastically as your eldest sister, Jane, offers you a kind smile. "We thought it'd be lovely for you to join," she says, squeezing your hand, pleading. "Anne will be here by then, too, and we'll be complete."

Your heart aches for your sisters, but while you love them very much…

“You know my sentiments about polite society,” you couldn’t help but sigh, sarcasm dripping in “polite” as you know well of the vipers that hide beneath their pristine facades. 

See, the truth of you and your relationship with Seokjin was discovered six or so years ago by your mother. The resulting conflict led to your disownment and the death of your reputation in the eyes of the social circle, who stared at you with scrutiny, jealousy, and disdain wherever you went.

Emma and Jane looked at you in pity—something you absolutely distaste, but you know it would never leave their eyes even if you told them to. Still, however, your eldest sister brings out a piece of paper—an invitation. “It’ll be fine,” she assures you, “It’s a masquerade ball.”

“No one would know,” Emma eagerly supplies, wielding puppy dog eyes and a pout against you. 

You look at the two of your sisters—who have missed you since all these years, who have given you support in secret, who have urged you to return to the family since your late mother’s passing two years ago. You only manage to meet them a day every other week, your stubborn drive to make something of yourself occupying most of your days with your jobs. 

The cursive words on the card look back at you, almost expectantly. Wearing a mask sounds promising, but the luxury of it all—finding a gown to wear, attending the extravagant party, following the strict etiquette—is all too much now for the simpler life you’ve lived in the past years. They remind you of a suffocating, restricting part of your life.  

On the other hand, however, your heart strings are tugged for your sisters.

With a sigh, you set the invitation down and turn back to your sisters who anticipate your response. “How am I even supposed to afford a decent dress for myself?” you say, brow raised, but the signs of defeat bring grins onto their lips. 

“We’ll gladly take care of that, dear,” Jane assures you as Emma excitedly giggles, leaving her seat to hug you.

Their warmth coaxes a smile from your lips. Anything for them. 

“Anything for them, you say?” you grumble to yourself with a muffled groan as you stand amongst a crowd all chattering amongst themselves, while you stand there all by your lonesome. 

The night of the much awaited ball, you stayed at the estate for the first time in years. The maids delivered to you a beautiful gown of gentle green with delicate white lace trims. Along with it was a white mask with vines and flowers sculpted around it. It took a while for you to get ready, but by the end of it, your hair was beautifully pinned up with a few pearls and faux white flowers.  

The four of you—your second elder sister having arrived with her husband a few days before—meet at the living room, all happy smiles at the notion of being together again. Of course, having their husbands in tow, all of you had to split between two carriages on the way to Fairford Manor. 

Which brings you here now.

Alone, because as all of your sisters have gotten married (yes, even your youngest sister has now also found herself a man), that means as the song for the waltz played, all couples go to the center and dance together. 

“They say the chandelier was a gift from Queen Irene herself. Isn’t that fascinating, my lady?”

You hold back a grimace. “Quite so,” you politely say in feign interest, so as to not offend the man next to you. You don’t know who the old man is, but while he's been nice to have struck a conversation with you, if you planned to spend your evening with history lessons, you’d go to a library.

“Have you eve—”

“Good evening.”

A tall stranger approaches you both, clad in a black suit embroidered with silver thread and a black mask covering his full face. Your brows raise as the man offers you his hand. “If I may,” he courtesies, “I’d like to ask the lady for a dance?” 

Looking around, it seems that the second dance has indeed begun. A part of you is relieved at the sweet release from boredom, but then again, you don’t know this man either. Something does, however, urge you to take his hand before you can even think about it. 

For a moment, his hand in yours leaves you befuddled. Warm they were, and… No. Nonsense.

“I’d be delighted to,” you force a smile, now that you’ve doomed yourself to accept the invitation.

The two of you join the circle of people who came to dance to the next song. While your hand remains in his, you gingerly—awkwardly—place your other hand on the man’s shoulder. His other hand found purchase at the small of your back, as you both began to follow the tune and waltz. You thank your body for remembering the arduous years of having to study dances—you’ve yet to step on your partner’s feet!

You find yourself looking up to meet eyes with the stranger. The close distance has allowed you a better look into his eyes, and they knock the air out of you. Dark irises you’ve seen so many times before stare back at you with a knowing familiarity.

Is it—can it really be him?

“A frown doesn’t suit you, my lady,” he says, and his voice alone—soft and light-hearted as always—dooms your suspicions. With the mask obscuring his face, you find it hard to decipher his emotions. Has time rid you of knowing what his eyes speak after so long?

Your heart races and aches in a flurry of emotions, but for his sake and yours, you resist the urge to storm out of the ballroom. You wonder if he can sense your panic—if he could see your eyes glassy with unshed tears. “So, you’ve come back,” you dully say, tearing your eyes from him to spare yourself any more pain.  

“A bit later than intended, I know,” he tells you as he guides you through the dance. 

Too late, your pain screams. Too late. Too late—

Your teeth bite down at your lip, and you sentence yourself to silence until the last note of the song. Without another word, you hastily courtesy and leave him on the dancefloor, glaring at the marbled floors all the way out of the manor. Hushed whispers follow you, but they are nothing you haven’t privy your heart to. In fact, you’ve expected the gossiping—but him? Kim Seokjin, your first love, right before you when you’ve spent seven years without him? 

He’s a blow to your heart you hadn’t anticipated—a bomb amongst mere arrows. 

A sob finally escapes your lips as you reach the stairs that lead to a pathway to the gates, forcing you to shed your mask when they stick to your skin and get in the way of your tears. The cold night air nips your skin, but you’ve been shaking for far longer than the moment you stepped outside. 

Your melancholy has you nearly stagger off the stairs, but a hand grabs a secure hold of your elbow before you could fall. You pathetically look up to your supposed savior—Kim Seokjin, sans the black mask. How fortunate.

“(Y/N)—”

“Don’t,” you grit through your teeth. 

It’s a surreal sensation—bittersweet, really—to finally see the real thing when you’ve spent years longing for your drawings and paintings to become it. Yet, here your old flame was now—alive in a way your art could never atone—and all the yearning turned into a forest fire across your whole being. 

Soft thumbs wipe away your tears, a feeling that makes you instantly flutter your eyes closed. “It’s unfair,” you find yourself whimpering your thoughts aloud. “Why does it feel like I’m the only one suffering?”

Years of scrutiny and hopelessness all reap the seeds of misery they sowed in you, all of them coming alive to ensnare you and drag you to the depth now that the sole reason for it all presents himself to you—the man you loved, the man you left your family for, the man you stayed in this damned city for even as it rots you from the inside out.

“What makes you say that?”

Seokjin’s words coax you to open your eyes. Through blurred tears, you come to realize he’s closer now, his eyes swimming with tears like yours—the sight of which softens your furrowed brows. Still, it’s not enough to satiate the years of contempt that brewed within you. “Time seems to have been kinder to you, is all,” you bitterly say, taking in his suit ensemble that you could immediately tell was expensive. 

Your words hurt Seokjin, you know it well, but in a childish feat, you hope it does. “I’ve worked hard for it,” he argues, a frown tugging his lips down. “You know nothing of what I’ve been through.”

“So do you,” you say, reaching to remove his hands from your face and walking down what steps remain on the stairs.

You have no doubts of his accomplishments. He had always been able to do what he set his mind to and do so flawlessly. Perhaps, it is this that also prods at the green-eyed monster within you, who envies to see that while you may have both suffered, he’s more triumphant in his feats than you were.

Ever the better person out of the two of you, Seokjin tries to bring you to reason. He follows you out to the manor grounds. “Then make me understand,” he pleads, managing to take your hands into his and effectively stop you in your tracks yet again. “Don’t run away from this—from me.”

Seokjin’s eyes never leave yours and you find it hard for yourself to look away now. Damn it all. His eyes have always done away with you and your stubborn resolve. 

“Mother found out,” you find yourself telling him, lips quivering yet again.

Through the next months after Seokjin’s apprenticeship began at the capital, you would get your news of him through his mother, who always had that knowing glint in her eyes about the two of you before he had left. Both your worries and excitement could fill an ocean, and that made the two of you much closer as you both waited for every letter from Seokjin. 

It was a year or so in, however, your mother discovered his letters to you. You remember the sheer dread that washed over you when you saw her at your vanity table, reading the letters Seokjin directly addressed to you.

"Mother…"

You stood frozen by the door, part of your nightgown bunched in your hands as you watched your mother grip the letter tightly with only one thing in her eyes—fury. The moment she looked up and met your eyes through the mirror, chills ran down your spine. "What did I lack for you to have done this treachery to me, (Y/N)?" she said, voice eerily steady and sharp that it makes you flinch.

Willing yourself to step forward, you try to gently reason with her. "Mother, love mustn't have boundaries," you say, “Seokjin is—”

"Love is an illusion, (Y/N)," your mother spat, standing from the chair with such force that it toppled over. “These,” she waves a letter to your face, “These are nothing but lies.”

"It's not—"

"This boy may have you fooled, but not me," your mother claims, tearing the letter in her hands before your eyes, the sight of which sets you a blaze in panic.

"No!" you cry out and run to her, grasping her hands to try and save the other letters from the same fate. "Stop it, please! Stop!"

Your mother looks at you in outrage as you cry over the torn pages of your lover’s words, clutching the letters you managed to get a hold of close to your heart. "You'd waste yourself for that baker's boy?!" she bellowed, "What else can he give you aside from his looks, hm? Nothing!"

"I don't give a damn about what he can't give!" you scream back, anger now flowing through your veins. "I love him and he loves me—unconditionally. I'm not throwing what we have away simply because he doesn't fit you greedy ide—"

A slap damns you to silence. 

"How dare you?" your mother sneers, seething. "How will you live then, hm? In the slums with nothing to eat?"

Her underestimation of commoners infuriates you. "The Kims get by just fine mother," you hiss, standing to stare her down with a glare. "Your obsession with luxury blinds you to the beauty in their simple lives."

Your mother glares back, crossing her arms. "Then I'll simply have you see things my way," she declares with such sureness that it unsettles you.

"What do you mean?"

"No daughter of mine marries a commoner," she says the words with such disgust that it stabs your heart with pain. "You'll marry Lord Jung's son, and then you'll see just how much better life is!"

Jung Hoseok, you remember him. A kind, bright boy you played with as a child—son to one of your late father’s greatest investors. He’s heir to his father’s brewery business. You can see why, in your mother’s eyes, he’s a perfect candidate for marriage. 

Even so, you can't stomach the thought of betraying Seokjin—let alone attempting to unlove him. 

"Then, I'll be no daughter of yours."

Your mother's visibly taken aback, her furious eyes that had seemed so sure before falter upon hearing your words. "What?"

Tears sting your eyes as you shake but you stand your ground. "If it disgusts you to have a daughter who loves a commoner, then I'll do you a favor, Lady (L/N)," you tell her, fishing for a coat in your closet, as well as the satchel that kept your locket and the makeshift palette Seokjin gifted you among other things. 

"You would leave the family for that boy?"

You could no longer bear the noose this life has around your neck. "A single inch of Kim Seokjin has made me feel more love, seen, and supported than you ever could," you claim, as you don on your coat. Another glare and you finally tell your mother the truth that you and your sisters have all been thinking of for years. "Your expectations and dreams have doomed us all to terrible, unhappy ends."

In many ways, your mother had killed all of you.

Jane, the eldest, while her husband was a good man, lives in his shadow. You like to think she was a genius, if she hadn’t been shackled to be a woman like all of you were. She longed to take care of the family estate and business herself, but that power’s been passed to her husband.

Anne—sweet Anne—who loved to read about plants, was married off to a count from a neighbouring kingdom. Your mother didn’t care about the rumors of his infamous infidelity—-didn’t care that your sister was doomed to be all alone, so far from home.

And, young Emma, whose imagination knows no bounds, wanted to write stories, but mother burned her manuscripts when she found out about her intentions to publish them.

"Everything I do, I do for all of you," your mother growled.

"You do it for yourself," your words smack her nearly as hard as she did. "You'd rather have our hearts and souls die to fit your perfect picture, than be happy."

"Happiness isn't everything—"

"I'd rather die than live without happiness."

This shocks her enough into silence that it gives you time to storm out of the room—of the estate. 

Seokjin’s eyes were wide as you told him of what had transpired that night. He seems as if he had something to say, but he withholds his words until you finish your side of the story.

The two of you walk in the night, side by side with a distance drawn by an invisible line between you both. “I came to the bakery the moment I left,” you tell him, “but even then, my misery doesn’t end.” 

That night, certain of your disownment, you made a run for the Kims' bakery. Imagine your surprise when you found the establishment abandoned. No more bread of all shapes, forms, and flavors displayed. No more gentle conversation between Mr and Mrs Kim. No more kind smiles to welcome you into the abode. 

Everything was gone. 

“I don’t know what happened,” you say, shivering yet again—this time from the cold. Seokjin wordlessly sheds his black overcoat, the silver threads embroidered into it glinting in the moonlight as he did. For a moment, you’re silent, words unable to escape you as he drapes his coat over your shoulders.

This makes it all the more difficult to meet his eyes, you forcing yourself to look at the forest ahead. “I…” you wet your lips as you ease your breathing. “I barely had any money with me, but one of our old maids thankfully took me in.”

Helen remains to be someone dear to your heart. “It was also her who helped me find something to make a living with,” you say, a soft smile on your face at the memory of going through town with Helen to look for jobs. In the end, she was able to help you become an assistant seamstress to a kind over to a dress shop. 

After months of working, you finally had enough to look for him where you last knew he was. “The first of my plans was to earn enough money to go to the capital,” you murmur, your smile fading at the memory of what took place there when you arrived. “Alas,” you bitterly laugh, “you weren’t there anymore.”

It took you days to even manage to ask a member of the royal kitchen staff about what happened to Seokjin, and as it turns out, he quit from his post some time after you were disowned. Next to you, Seokjin grimaces, sighing as he shakes his head. “I,” he stammers, “I had already been under a lot of pressure, and…”

It seemed to be his turn reminiscing. “My parents came to the capital all of a sudden,” he began, “they said Lady (L/N) told them to get out of the city at your request—said that you were getting married to another and you didn’t want anything that reminded you of me.”

Your heart dropped at the news. When did your mother orchestrate such a scheme?

You recall that before that night, the last you had seen of Mr and Mrs Kim had been a week or so. Had your mother known about you and Seokjin for much longer before you discovered her in your room? 

Tears return to your eyes, and you find yourself clutching Seokjin’s coat tightly in your hands. A newfound hatred for your mother burns in you, but a part of you still found fault in Seokjin’s predicament. “Seven years,” your words tremble. “I’ve waited seven years for you to come back—stayed a commoner here even as they slander me behind my back because I didn’t want you to not find me. Why didn’t you come for me sooner?” 

Until the end, you were your mother's disappointment. Even your youngest sister, who had no plans of getting married, was now with child, having gotten married to the heir to a publishing company last summer. You, on the other hand, denied any man who came to ask for your hand—who all told you how fortunate you were that they’re even asking a desolate spinster like you. 

You could feel Seokjin’s gaze from beside you, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to look into them and see what they held. A sigh resounds from him, so filled with regret and anguish. “I lost my way for a while,” he confesses, “when I heard your supposed husband was an heir, I was angry. I poured my heart and my time into making something of myself—I got back to the royal kitchen, I got employed under a ducal family, and then I delved into business.”

He looks up at the moon, like it’d give him more strength for his confessions. “I planned to come back here and show you all of that, I…” he shakes, “I wanted you to regret leaving me.”

You find it hard to imagine Kim Seokjin, who was always so mature and certain of himself, be so unsure and lost, and yet the emotions his words carry are proof of it. A part of you feels betrayed that he thought you would believe such a thing, but you know well how emotions can cloud a person’s reason.

The two of you came to a stop when he stood before you, seizing your hands yet again since the manor’s staircase. A hand came to tilt your chin towards him. “When I finally came here,” Seokjin earnestly looked at you, “I can’t begin to imagine the relief and joy I felt to find out you never got married at all, but I… I also know what a fool I’ve been.”

A glint of that well-known determination is in his eyes as he fishes for something pinned beneath his waistcoat. “When I saw you at the ball, I knew I had to at least try if I had even a small chance to be with you again.”

In his hands was his locket, one that revealed your eye in the midst of it. At that moment, your eyes yet again shine with tears—this time, happier than the previous ones. Your heart swells, not enough to quell your pain, but still enough to comfort your broken heart—to embrace it and say “I’m here, I’ll never leave again.”

Before you is a familiar view, you now realize it as you look around what surrounded you both. Walking down the memories of the past lead you to the place where you both shared most of it—the ruins. 

A small smile makes it to your lips. “Do you remember the last time we were here?” you ask him, and watch as he, too, came to recognize where you two were. The smile that befalls him is precious, as he nods. 

You find yourself squeezing his hand in yours, taking a step forward to lessen the gap between you both. You stare into his eyes—see how softly and kindly they gaze at you. “You are my only muse,” you say, echoing the words you told him seven springs ago as your fingers reach for the locket you kept tucked between your dress and corset. “The one who gave me strength amidst my misery.”

Seokjin encloses his right hand with yours, both of them containing your respective lockets, as he rests his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering close. “You’re my muse, too,” he swore under his breath as he leaned in and captured your lips in a tender kiss. 

You smile, the cracks in your heart slowly but surely being melded back together from his warmth.

Here you are, seven years have passed—Kim Seokjin very much alive and within arm’s reach, proving what you thought during that dreadful night to be true. You can never unlove him.

𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 : @mwitsmejk​ @dreamamubarak​ @bloodline1632​

[lexa-griffins]

yeah the mobster daughter au i mean 😭😭😭 sorry, is there a snippet?

No worries, I was just a little confused 😅

Here's a little snippet of what I have already written for it :D :

The whiskey burns in her throat and she detective grimaces at it. It’s the cheapest one they have and still far too expensive for her wallet so she forces herself to finish it, the barman giving her dirty looks as she does. 

Two dead cops, one house burnt to a crisp and a couple thrown to the river, all so clearly indicative of mafia activity it should be a open and shut case if there was any proof of it at all. Those are the reason she keeps coming back. She knows why the case ended up on her desk with few info on it, the little faith the department has on her abilities as a detective is not something new to her. So she keeps crossing into enemy territory every other night. Clarke lies to herself, says its so seek revenge for her fallen colleagues even if she barely knew their faces, justice for the couple whose lives were destroyed and tossed aside although she doesn't particularly care about people who were actively producing laced heroin and passing it on to already struggling addicts.

A big mass sits on the stool right next to her, forcing her legs to close as they make themselves at home. She stares at her watered down whiskey without much desire to finish it, pretending not to listen as a drink is ordered in a foreign language right by her side. She knows better than to start a fight here.

“Thought I had told you not to show your face here again Griffin.”

She signs at the bartender to bring her a second round, making it obvious to brute next to her she isn’t planning on going anywhere anytime soon.

“I’ve never been great at following orders Quint.” 

She takes the drink that’s place in front of her and forces another gulp of it down her throat. When she finally turns to meet his gaze he’s staring her down. He’s an intimidating fella, scars and tattoos that show where he belongs covering every inch of visible skin. By all means, Clarke should be terrified of him; he is twice her side and not afraid to kill someone with a batch with his bare hands, a rather gruesome aftermath to walk in on her first homicide case. But she isn’t. In fact, Clarke finds him pathetic, more brawl than brains, another pawn in a family that will dispose of him the moment he stops serving his purpose. 

“How’s your brother doing by the way?” she asks snarkily, knowing it’ll hit a nerve, “Hope the burns aren’t too bad.” 

Clarke grabs the glass intent on finishing with a swing and get out before shit hits the fan. He stares her with a murderous look in his eyes and takes the glass away from her before she can drink its content. The volume inside seems to have gone down but Clarke knows he wont try anything against her, not here. 

“You are very brave under her protection aren’t you detective?”

The accusation leaves a sour taste in her mouth. She’s not a pet but she knows she is seen as one inside these walls. It’s why she’s left mostly unbothered despite her job title, why all she gets are sneers  and empty threats.

“It’s getting late” with a pained gesture, Clarke pays for the two drinks in cash, making a point of not backing down in her stance when exiting her seat, “if you’d excuse.”

The cold hair hits her hard and Clarke takes a deep breath away from the smell of cigars and booze. Another trip that let no where. At this point she doesn't know whats she’s looking for or why she keeps coming back to Grounders. 

She’s nearing her bike, helmet secured under her arm when she reaches inside the pocket of her leather jacket only to find it empty of her keys and phone.

Shit.

“Looking for these Griffin?” 

Quint appears from the darkness of the alleyway where she parked, the keys of her bike dangling from one hand, gun in the other. Clarke takes a step back, putting distance between them as she tries to figure out an escape plan.

“You're not so brave now are you?”

A bullet passes by her, but not from Quints side. The shot goes right above her shoulder to enter Quint's heart. Fast and on target, a her trademark. 

Clarke rolls her eyes and fishes her keys from the dead man’s hands before turning to face her.

“You should not be out so late, love.”

[ciaossu-imagines]

Okay. Cool. That’s good to know. A part of me figured that was the case but since that everything purely said ‘Ask box closed’ I figured I’d better be safe than sorry and should wait until you opened it up again. And I’m so sorry that someone sent in that spoiler with a request. I really do hate that. And that’s great to hear that you slept so amazingly ☺ Gods, me too. I have this weird thing where I absolutely have no idea how much sleep I actually need beause I’m always tired, even if I sleep more than normal. Sure, I feel slightly more refreshed, but still hella tired. Okay. I’ll try to come up with everything I thought of saying at the time and will send it next time you respond to our DMs. And thank you so much for saying that. It most definitely was a great chapter and I hope I have good enough thoughts to add onto everything you’ve already said about it. Oh I see. That makes sense. I also usually go for those kinds of things and rarely watch purely romantic series, unless they’re recommended to me or they’re said to be really good. It really is. I finished A: TLA a few days ago and cried so much at the end. And I hope that you also get the chance to rewatch it at some point and I’d love to hear your thoughts on it when the time comes. I immensely enjoyed rewatching A: TLA and it’s funny beause even though it’s been a while that I’ve watched it before , I still knew a lot of everything concerning the story but that didn’t detract from my enjoyment of the moments. Like I still cried at another emotional scene a few episodes before the end beause it really is just so beautiful. I just started the last season of Demon Slayer that’s out today and I’m just in awe of the animation and how it looks and it’s making me emotional. I’m really so grateful that a series as good as that has such a beautifully well done adaptation. Couldn’t ask for anything more and hope that they continue doing it justice until the very end, though I have a feeling they will.

Thank you. I managed to get through everything I didn’t get the chance to read yet today, as you may have noticed 😅 And I enjoyed all of them and have written my thoughts down for them, though I feel like they’ll probably look quite repetitive 😅 Yeah, fandom is amazing like that. I’m really grateful for that and the way that they write all of the wikis. Yeah, one of the filler arcs in Bleach is really weird and I never rewatch that one. Oh that’s nice to know. And it’s also cool to know that they also translated the songs. Were they sung by the English voice actors or something?

It really was and luckily, now that I’ve restarted my computer again since it was being really slow, it’s gone back to how it used to be. And that could be. And thank you for calling the explanation clear. And that sounds good. I hope you get to read it beause one of the matches centres on some of my favourite babies and I really do hate that they messed up the adaptation like that. At least I’ll always have the manga, though it still sucks 😭 Yeah. And the fourth season still has some really well-done scenes, and there’s this scene of another kind of fave that I haven’t mentioned at all, that appears in that season, and they have like this really beautiful shot of his eyes. And that’s nice to know. No problem at all. Even though I probably won’t rewatch the movies, I do really appreciate that they animated those extra scenes beause they’re all important in their own way. Shame can’t be said for some later stuff and I know Covid had something to do with the second half on the fourth season, but the movie of this year and those OVA’s from many years ago have no excuse so yeah, it’s still a shame (I know I’m being really salty here so sorry for that). The chapter limitation really does suck, especially because both were really easy to get through for me, someone who doesn’t read as fast so I hope that you do get to read both on your normal app one day. Yeah, me too. Like even though I do have my faves that I’ve talked to you about, I still love all of the characters and am so proud of the growth that certain ones went through and it’s just all so nice. Like even my non-faves make me emotional. And yeah, especially those. Like the other boy I’m not normal about has such noticeable flaws and is such a silly boy (like I call him silly so often while rewatching some of his scenes) but he’s such a well-made character that you can’t help but love him.

Oh I’m so sorry to hear that and I can’t blame you for being upset by it. I hope at least that that character has good reasons or something. I’m also scared now, but also kind of intrigued to see it all. And true and that’s really nice. And you’re amazing for that. Glad to see that I’m not the only one who likes justified text. And no problem at all 😄 I’m doing pretty alright. Like I said, I watched some Demon Slayer today, which put me in a good mood but my mum was really judgemental about a certain thing concerning my dad which was so horrible to hear sine it was during dinner time so I just had to sit there and listen to everything she had to say, especially since I couldn’t come up with enough stuff to counter her. It really is always so painful to have to hear her comments about all kinds of things but I won’t let it keep me down because I know I have your writing to look forward to and many great anime and all kinds of stuff. Just couldn’t help but mention it. Hope you’re doing amazing and that the writing is going great 😊

C

I know you had figured that and I think it’s really sweet of you to be concerned about bothering me! You’re never a bother though and I enjoy seeing you in the inbox 😊Thanks – that one was rough as I’ve done amazing at avoiding Jujutsu Kaisen spoilers (blacklisted the general tag until I’m completely finished the manga read just to make sure of that). Though, just saying – I called that one way back in our messages but ouch, rough yeah, for both being spoiled and for what it said happened. I need way more sleep than the four to six hours I’m lucky to get a night. I’m horrible in being a super light sleeper where every little sound wakes me up though, even with my pills being in me. Caffeine is my best friend in all forms (coffee, energy drinks, caffeine infused chocolate or my favourite, chocolate covered espresso beans, even caffeine pills if the insomnia is really bad…yeah, I know, I’ll probably die of a heart attack from all the caffeine guys but adult life sucks and requires you to stay awake). Sounds good! I’m hoping to get a reply to our dm’s off maybe this weekend in between writing other things, where I have a weekend off. I can definitely get checking out series that are recommended to you, even if they’re not what you’d normally watch. I recently paused watching my other shows to binge through Mashle because it came highly recommended by two people I trust, even though it seemed like it would be just a blatant rip-off of One Punch Man. Turns out they were right and I loved it. I hope it will be that for you with the romance series when you do watch it through! The ending of A:TLA was definitely worthy of the crying and I remember crying quite a bit throughout that show. I loved Iroh, but I really had a soft spot for Azula and things got real rough for my girl around the end of the show. I felt horrible for her, I really did. I’m so glad that you enjoyed your rewatch of it, that it could still hit you in all the right ways despite knowing what was coming. When you say last season, do you mean this is it? It will wrap everything up completely or is there a plan for more (like a spin-off or anything) after this season or a follow-up like Naruto: Shippuden? I’m so glad the last season is starting out so well though and I’m with you in hoping it will continue to be beautifully done right up until the end, and not just because it’s high on my watch list.

I noticed and appreciated all the likes and am happy you enjoyed them all! And I never find your thoughts repetitive and am always really glad to hear your thoughts on my posts! Comments are always wonderful and motivating! I hate the Bount arc for Bleach and when I do get the urge to watch it, I always skip that arc, since it’s pure filler anyway! I’m pretty sure it’s all the English VA’s singing the songs but I noticed about halfway through season 2 there were some songs they didn’t translate and upon googling it, it looks like sometimes it’s hard to get the permissions needed to translate and revoice those songs. Either way, the music is really solid all through the show!

I’m glad your computer has gone back to how it should be and hopefully isn’t running super slow anymore! It definitely was clear and it helps me know what to expect. I’m someone who likes to get every single moment, so even if the movies are a lot of recycled stuff, I still need to watch them. Oh no! It sucks that your favourite didn’t really get what they should have when it came to the anime adaptation. I know how that feels and it sucks big time! I hadn’t even actually thought about the impact Covid would have had on animators and studios! A lot of what came out during that time would make more sense if they couldn’t really all do their work successfully from home, I guess. And hey, no, please feel free to be salty. Everyone has things they’re salty about, even me, and it’s cool that you feel comfortable enough with me to feel safe getting salty about things. Thank you for that! And so far, all the characters are great. I was pretty sure I’d dislike Hinata going into it, because those kind of characters normally bore me but I ended up just adoring him, which is the one that surprised me the most!

Thank you! I do hope that, when I get to reading and finishing up everything for the manga, I’ll see the reasons the author went that direction and that it ends up making sense in the story. If not, I’m sticking just with writing Nanbaka up to the end of the anime seasons haha! I’m so glad you’re doing okay and that you had some good moments, though I’m really sorry to hear that about your mother. I personally am of the opinion that spouses shouldn’t bicker or pick at each other in front of their children, but I know it happens all too often. It’s awkward for the person sitting there and uncomfortable. I’m sure you did your best to defend your dad and that he appreciated it a lot! I know it’s hard but try to focus on some of the positives of your day or lose yourself in something you enjoy and don’t let her steal your joy, my dear! You deserve more than that! And thank you! I’m doing okay tonight – just got my pills into me, sitting on my couch in boxers and a comfy t-shirt, eating a McCain cake out of the tin and writing (just finished a chapter…it was supposed to be a request for a one shot little drabble about me travelling with comfort characters and now it’s bloated into a whole multi-chaptered fic, haha)!

[the-widow-sisters]

I’m Lost Without You

Summary: Shuri burned the mourning garments to try to let go. The funny part is that despite how liberating the gesture was meant to be, she finds herself filled with nothing but regret and pain as thoughts of T'Challa endlessly plague her.

However, that evening on the beaches of Haiti, someone pays her a small visit.

Word Count: 2893

A/N: Whoo!!! I busted this one out after watching Wakanda Forever, and I honestly have no clue what I'm doing 🤣 I was emotionally compelled, so I rolled with it, lol. I have never written for these characters before (I wrote for Shuri like once but it was one or two lines in a bigger fic that was not centered on her). But I've never read nor written stuff for these characters, so hopefully it's not totally bad 🤣😂💖

Honestly, Shuri has lost so much. More than even Yelena in some ways (and that was a shocker for me) 🥺😭 And her and T'Challa's relationship was so touching and so sad for me. I hope I was able to do it justice 💞

I hope y'all enjoy! 💗💗💗

Warnings: Spoilers for Wakanda Forever.

  Shuri felt her lips trembling as she looked at the ocean, trying her best not to look down at what was left of her mourning garments there in the smoldering fire that had gone out since earlier that day.

  She had spent some time with little T’Challa, but she had not been able to fully shake the sense of grief that had been brought back tenfold from earlier that day. Therefore, she had ended up back on the beach that night after the boy and Nakia had gone to bed, barely containing her tears.

  Strangely enough, Shuri found that she may have burnt the clothes of mourning, but she had not found the peace or release that her mother had spoken of. And she was having the hardest time even finding a sense of remotely okay.

  “Why did you have to go? I needed you still. I need you now,” Shuri whispered softly, her knees digging into the sand as she closed her eyes tightly where she was kneeling. Her entire body was shaking with the raw pain wracking her frame.

  “You were the good one. You were always good and right when I was not,” Shuri confessed to the night air around her, sobbing harshly as she felt the sand beneath her palms. The waves were rolling softly around her, and she felt as if her heart were being ripped out of her chest.

  It was the first time that she had truly faced her grief for T’Challa and she despised the fact that it took their mother’s passing to do that, because now she had to suffer through the pain of two of the largest, most vital pieces of her heart being an empty hole.

  She chose peace with Namor, but she had not even made peace with herself. She was alone, and she could not accept it. And in the end, the person that she had needed the most was gone. She loved her mother, but at the end of the day, it was her brother’s passing that she could not accept.

  He was never coming back and she had been trying to avoid that fact— fighting it tooth, fang, and toenail— for too long. It was true, she could say it aloud. She felt that she was being stabbed every time she did, but saying it and shortly thereafter distracting herself was different than allowing herself to feel. To legitimately and deeply feel his loss.

  In her lab, Shuri could lull herself into the false sense that she was simply in her domain, and he would come in at any moment with his big, far too easygoing smile and those ridiculous sandals that she hated. The ones that he thought were so regal and kingly and that she thought were the dumbest things she had seen in a while.

  She took in a deep, shuddering breath, and she looked to the sky, addressing him even more directly or at least as directly as she could.

  “You left me. You didn’t tell me. You kept it to yourself for so long, and when you asked me to save you, it was too late. Why did you have to do it that way? I could have helped if I had time,” she explained, nothing but desperation in her words as she felt her throat closing up.

  “Didn’t you know you were my world? Didn’t you know that you meant everything to me?” Shuri pleaded aloud, knowing there would be no answer.

  That was part of what hurt so much. There would be no answer to her words. She honestly did not know why she was talking aloud right now when she was wasting her breath. She had seen her ancestors and all she saw was her cousin, the last person she had wanted to speak to.

  She had hoped to see him. He had forsaken her. She knew that her cousin was the best person that she could have seen given the direction that she had been frighteningly close to turning, but she had still hoped to see her brother.

  He had been taken from her too soon and now she felt like the rug was pulled out from under her. She was completely alone now outside of little T’Challa, who she did not know at all outside of introductions.

  Worst of all, she did not have the man who had made her feel safe. The man that had been her hero.

  Her big brother.

  “I’m lost without you, big brother. I am alone,” Shuri brokenly confessed to the warm night, a sob wracking through her as she bowed her head and crumpled in on herself.

  She sobbed for what felt like an eternity, nothing but the sound of the waves accompanying her, but to her shock, she suddenly felt a familiar, strong yet soft hand on her shoulder.

  “Why do you cry, little sister?” a voice replied, and Shuri swallowed as she raised her head quickly, turning to look behind her to where the source of the hand was.

  There was her brother kneeling behind her, his warm, dark eyes watching her calmly and lovingly. He was wearing gorgeous robes fit for the king that he was, and she felt her entire being in utter shock.

  “T’Challa? My… my brother,” Shuri barely managed to whisper before she threw herself upon him, her arms around his neck as she brought him into a suffocating embrace.

  His arms lifted to hold her against him, and she sobbed into his shoulder as he brought his hand up to the back of her head, holding her securely and safely there. She took in a breath, the scent of home filling her as she shut her eyes tightly, grasping for better purchase as he held her. Her fingers were digging into his robes, but if it hurt him, he did not show any true evidence.

  He was filled out and healthy like he was before, and he was strong. He was not the weakened husk of her brother that he had been at the time of his passing. He was there.

  She reached her hands up, feeling his neck and head as she sobbed deeply and heartbrokenly. She was taking in the feel of him, remembering her hero as he kept her held safely where the grief and pain could not touch her.

  “You are here,” Shuri managed to speak, tearstains on her face as the moisture wetted her cheeks and her brother’s clothes.

  “I am,” he replied, and his voice sounded oddly heavy in the emotion just beneath the surface. Shuri furrowed her brow in slight confusion, her breaths shaking as she struggled to calm them.

  “But I will not be here for long,” he confessed, and she pulled back to look at him. He had a gentle smile on his face, and he was looking at her with just as much adoration as he had in life, but she quickly came to the full realization that he was truly not there with her and that it was merely a dream.

  After all, the atmosphere surrounding her was completely different. The waves falling upon the beach had subsided with the ocean turned into a lake, and gorgeous pink, blue, and purple lights were shining in the sky above. It was not real. He was a spirit.

  “You’re not here,” she pointed out, withdrawing from him a little more. He let his arms fall away slowly from her, looking at her somewhat sadly.

  “Not in body. But in spirit,” he expressed, and Shuri just looked at him sadly, feeling her heart ache as she looked away, moving back so that she was sitting on the sand next to him. He moved so that he was sitting down with her, and there was quiet between them.

  “Why are you sad?” he asked, and Shuri let a somewhat bitter huff pass between her lips.

  “Our mother is gone. You are gone. I have no one left that truly knows me. Is that not a reason to be sad?” Shuri asked, and he shook his head carefully.

  “Death is not the end—"

  “Everyone keeps saying that,” she interrupted quickly at the end of his statement, desperation and bitterness stifling her. He quieted, eyeing her as he considered her words.

  “You are not completely alone.”

  “Yes, you have a son that I never knew about,” Shuri pointed out, just looking at him for a long moment as she stared at him. She honestly was quite hurt about the fact that he had hidden it from her when their mother had known about it.

  “I only told Mother because she had a right to know that there would be an heir,” T’Challa explained.

  “And what about me? Did I not have a right to know that my big brother had a child? One that I could have spent time with and gotten to know? One that I have lost so much time with already?” Shuri pointed out, and he was quiet, looking down at the sand before redirecting his attentions to her.

  “I’m sorry,” he apologized, nothing but remorse in his gaze, and Shuri met his eyes for a long moment before sighing deeply, looking away.

  They remained quiet for a little while, the both of them just sitting together in one another’s company. Finally, Shuri spoke up, her voice rough with raw emotion.

  “I am the Black Panther now. And I am completely lost without you,” Shuri confessed, her voice soft, and he was silent as he considered what she said.

  “You have been making the right decisions. You are ready,” he assured her, and Shuri swallowed as she shook her head.

  “I do not feel ready. I am not ready to take your mantle. I am not ready to be the Black Panther. I have never been. The Black Panther was you. Father bore the name, but it was you,” Shuri expressed, pain stabbing sharply within her. He eyed her with sympathy but also with a certain exhaustion and weight.

  “Little sister… You are ready. You are prepared to handle this burden. I knew you would be before my passing,” he told her, and she clenched her teeth as she quickly stood up and walked a small distance away, looking out at the lake. She did not want to hear him discuss his own death.

  He let out a sigh, and she felt her heart aching with pain as tears threatened to come back to her eyes.

  “You have to do this without me,” T’Challa explained softly from where he was sitting on the sand behind her. Shuri instantly felt the emotions bubbling up in her chest and she clenched her teeth, turning around quickly.

  “Without you?! How am I supposed to make it without you?! You were everything to me. You knew how to do all of this. You are gone! Father is gone, Mother is gone, and you are gone. And I am alone!” Shuri cried as she raised her voice, the sound of it pained and cracking as she grew increasingly distraught with the truth bearing harder and harder upon her.

  T’Challa looked at her carefully before slowly getting up. Her chest was heaving with pained breaths, and she was trying her best to ignore the painful lump welling up in her throat. He approached her carefully, pausing just in front of her as he looked at her.

  “Can you see the wind?” he questioned suddenly and the randomness of the question threw her off completely. She just gaped at him blankly.

  “What?” she asked, utterly shocked. T’Challa smiled a little, his eyes glowing with a bit of mirth before he asked her again.

  “Can you?” She paused, not sure what the correct answer was supposed to be since it felt like a trick question.

  “Well, no…”

  “But you feel it, yes?”

  “I suppose,” she replied slowly, confusion thoroughly plaguing her, but she decided she would go along with it momentarily. T’Challa seemed to sense her lack of understanding, and he huffed softly before his dark, warm eyes met hers once again.

  “Close your eyes,” he told her, and she stared at him for a moment, not sure what he was getting at. She looked away for a moment before closing her eyes with a deep sigh.

  After a brief moment, she felt his hand on her shoulder, and she furrowed her brow.

  “What do you feel?” he asked, and she cursed how her voice was wanting to leave her.

  “You,” she managed to force out.

  “You cannot see me?” he stated patiently in a manner that was more of a question, and she shook her head, not sure what he was trying to communicate.

  “Just because you cannot see me, does not mean that I am not there. I will always be with you to guide you,” T’Challa assured her softly, and Shuri opened her eyes to look at him.

  He was looking down at her with such confidence and love as he brought his other hand to touch her other shoulder, squeezing gently. Shuri stared back at him, feeling her heart squeeze painfully.

  She slowly nodded, unable to do anything but numbly reply to him. She did not have much hope that he would be there, but something in her believed him, nevertheless. He never let her down in life, so why would he let her down now?

  He smiled knowingly at her. Shuri let out a deep breath, bringing her hands up to grasp at his arms.

  After a long moment of the both of them just existing in the same space, silence between them, she finally found her voice enough to speak up again.

  “Why did you not tell me in time to save you?” Shuri asked, and he eyed her, a certain regret and softness in his eyes.

  “I wanted to protect you from the pain,” T’Challa expressed, and she just eyed him wordlessly.

  “I wanted to protect you from the pain,” Shuri echoed, the both of them having two different meanings but seeking the same effect. He nodded, understanding glowing in his gaze as nothing but kindness filled his features.

  “It was not really bad until the last of it, and that was when I knew I needed to tell you,” he confessed to her, and she felt the tears threatening to come to her eyes yet again.

  “If you would have only told me before… I could have saved you,” Shuri told him.

  “That is unfortunately something we will both never know for sure,” he resignedly confessed, and she reluctantly nodded, hurting deep within despite knowing that it was the truth. Perhaps the fact that it was the truth was the part that hurt the most about it.

  She squeezed his arms and he tightened his grip on her shoulders, leaning forward as their foreheads touched softly. She closed her eyes, reveling in the love that she felt from him despite the pain.

  “You did the best you could despite my choices. Just,” he took in a deep, shaking breath, and she could not help but feel tears running down her face as she worked her jaw.

  “Know that I will always be here. I will always believe in you. And I will always love you, little sister.”

  Shuri swallowed hard, pain in her heart but also love as she tightened her grip even more, begging for just a few more moments of this respite from her reality where he would not be here holding her.

  She knew this was their goodbye, but she wanted longer. Just five more minutes. Five more seconds.

  Just more time.

  But as it was, she would make the most of what shred of time she had left.

  “I will always love you, big brother,” she whispered in reply, and he pushed his head into her just a little harder, her body shuddering with the pain and the tears running down her face. His hands softly came up to hold her neck gently, the both of them remaining there silently as his hands slowly faded away.

   ………………………………………………………………………………………………………

      Shuri stirred awake, her eyes shooting open as she jerked a bit. She realized that the sunrise was falling upon her, and she raised up quickly, looking around her. She let out a breath of disappointment as she realized tears were running down her face. She swallowed hard, the waves rolling in the water as she felt the warmth of the sun descending upon her.

  She swallowed hard, looking down as she shut her eyes tightly and drew in on herself.

  However, to her absolute and utter shock, the wind suddenly blew oddly strongly against her back, almost knocking her over. Her eyes shot open and they widened a little, chills running through her as she felt something suspiciously warm against her shoulder.

  She looked behind her, knowing what she would not see but nevertheless finding it necessary to confirm it to herself.

  As she expected, there was not a person there, but she knew. She could feel it. Shuri took in a deep breath, looking out at the ocean before her as she mustered the barest of smiles.

  “I feel your guiding hand, big brother. I… I won’t let you down,” Shuri whispered.

  She could not see him, but he was there.

  He always would be.

[rosenallies]

Dammit, I was writing this thinking it wasn’t going to be that long and then it got progressively longer 😣 I guess this sort of a prompt, because I got the idea off a prompt list. Don’t remember which list but it was like “You’re just realizing I have a crush on you?” Anyway here’s my OTP stargazing (you’ll get your smut soon enough 😂) FYI in my mind they’ve been dating for about 8 months at this point

Natalie is such an outdoor girlie 🤪 she loves learning about different plants and insects and then trying to find those the next time she goes on camping trip. Jane is no where near as into that aspect as Nat, but they too love the great outdoors. They’re a little nature couple 🥺 that also really enjoys being indoors due to things like ac and the internet. When Nat first gets back from New York, where she obviously didn’t have a ton of access to nature, she goes camping like once a month for a full year. Now, coming up on 3 years post Columbia, she brought that down to once every few months. But Jane, who is always so attentive and can tell when Nat needs it, will suggest an impromptu hike or in this case stargazing. Their stargazing spot is only an hours drive from their apartment(I don’t know Vancouvers geography and I’m not looking it up lmao, we’re going to go with just some miscellaneous big hill). When they get there, Nat is chatting about work when she finally gets a good look over at Jane. She thinks she knows her partner pretty well seeing as they grew up together and all that lol so she can immediately tell that they are extremely tired. They’d been dealing with several new additions to the museum causing them to stay late everyday (as someone who for a very short period of time wanted to be a curator, and talked to one who worked at a museum in Philly, staying late for them can mean 3am😭) but they did it anyway since they knew Nat needed this. Her dads most recent fall, which left him with a broken wrist, was still causing her extreme anxiety weeks later. They convinced her to go out with them and ofc Synth helped, otherwise Natalie would have gone straight back to her parents house after work like she’d been doing for weeks. They finally get to the spot, set up their blanket and just look up at the sky. Jane brought their telescope, which was a pretty expensive gift from one of their friends, but they just decided to lay next to each other instead. After a few minutes of Nat just pointing out the stars she thinks she can see and Jane trying not to doze off, Nat turns over and says she loves them and that she realizing she was in love with them broke her heart because she never thought they’d love her in that way. Sharing what’s on their minds is something that Nat’s parents taught both of them so they could have healthy communication 😭 Jane kind of scoffs and is like that’d never happen.

(A little poorly written dialogue to make this earlier to write and understand 🫣)

Natalie: “What wouldn’t?”

Jane: “That I wouldn’t love you. In any way. Because I’ve loved you in every way, more than humanly possible since we were kids.”

Nat is a gaping like a fish at this point: “But you never showed interest in me in that way. Not until I embarrassed myself by sobbing in the rain about you not wanting me.”

Jane laughs, lovingly, in her face: “Are you telling me you’re just now realizing that I’ve always been in love with you?”

Cue the Nat waterworks. Jane just coos and giggles at her reaction while pulling Nat to lay on their chest. To them, Nat is perfect and as far as they could tell she’s the only person on the planet that they could love in that way.

Stop this is so cute I feel like I should just hand this au over to u 😭😭 ur doing it more justice than me

[dadswithipads]

Live reacting to Static Shock episodes

"Ep 7 S3"

Awww Virgil reading to those men. "Back in my day ....and the girls were foxy"-one of the seniors. "That's it. Lunch break." -Virgil. 😳🌈??. And then he leaves and slams that door dam. Queer much. Dam he said that the man was annoying. My boy didn't even have his mask on.

His fking "WHAT!" LMAO.

Yes the afro. Last episode Richie got attacked and now he just gone??

Wtf is happening. This came outta the blue frfr.

They couldn't have made us become aware of this battle before. Like why should we care-.

Wawawa🎶. Bobert get into it. "He was the static of his day. Maybe even better." -Bobert. "I don't think so👹." -Virgil lmao. His attitude.

Dam Sharon. Dam Bobert. "What a sweet old guy. I bet Virgil could learn a lot from him." Dam. He gets an attitude with y'all and suddenly hes so bad??? Wheres richie dude. Where is the power group up of gear and Static.

Are we getting that lil Romeo cameo yet😭😭😭

This episode is boring. Sry.

Ig that the message is good. But like. The best part in this episode is Virgil's attitude he's just going off on everybody and it's so funny. Maybe that's why Richie isn't in this episode because he would be nice if Richie was here.

My bitchy son lmao. "You can never be too old to fight for justice." -soul power. "Oh that's debatable."-Virgil. Like man has no chill😁.

Dam fast and the bicurious. Pedal to the medal.

"You stole his card"- Virgil. *SP comes out with excuse* "Right on." -Virgil. Like WHAT IS HAPPENING RN.

Bro how they gonna get out of this pickle.

So homebro wants money from people so he doesnt commit t€rrorism. Just maybe DONT COMMIT IT TO BEGIN WITH.

Dam the inherent gay manner of wanting to be like your male idol and do what he says.

I'm hearing all this funk music playing in the background and I can't help but remember last night when I was watching the proud family and fking Bobby Brown song not stop playing lmao.

So true for Virgil Hawkins to roll his eyes and whine and make fun of that quote and then to then say it himself with pride and full seriousness. My boy.

They gonna kiss or.. Like the old guys. Guess not. Aww he got all nervous bout being wrong. Virgil is too cute omg. Doing the dance.